Category: English

My brother came to my apartment to force me to donate bone marrow to our mother. My landlord told him, “Chloe is already dead.” My brother sneered. “Chloe really never changes! To get attention, she’ll make up any excuse. She’s just rotten to the core, not even a fraction as good as Harper. You tell her to stop playing games and be a good girl and donate that bone marrow. Otherwise, I’ll make her regret it!” The white-haired landlady was furious. She grabbed a broom and chased my brother out. “I said, Chloe is dead! You and your toxic family killed her! “Chloe has been dead for six months! How exactly are you going to make her regret it? “Chloe had the worst luck in the world to be born into a family like yours!” Realizing I was truly dead, my brother’s face turned ash-white, and he fled in a panic. 1 I have been dead for six months, but I haven’t moved on to the afterlife. My soul uncontrollably followed the Sterling family. Day after day, I watched the four members of the Sterling family live in perfect, happy harmony. Harper and Liam were getting married. The wedding date and venue were all booked. It was only then that the family finally remembered me. “Is my sister still mad? Will she come when Liam and I get married?” “If she doesn’t come, I won’t acknowledge her as my daughter anymore.” “Just goes to show, if you didn’t raise them from birth, you can’t trust them.” “I said from the beginning we shouldn’t have brought her back. We should have just let the mistake be.” My father, my mother, and my brother sat there, listing all my faults. I watched Harper, tears in her eyes, secretly curl the corner of her lips into a smile. She won. I, the true biological daughter, had nothing. I didn’t even have my life anymore. The family took turns calling me, but it wouldn’t connect. It had been six months; my phone battery had died and shut off ages ago. After failing to reach me, they cursed me out together, then tossed me aside and forgot about me again. Even when I occasionally crossed their minds, it was quickly paved over with an insult. My mother went with Harper to try on wedding dresses. Harper spotted a gown displayed in a glass case. “Mom, look! That dress is so beautiful.” I looked at the dress too, and for a moment, I was dazed. Meanwhile, my mother had already called an employee over to bring the dress out. “I’m very sorry, but that dress is custom-made for a private client.” Harper really loved the dress and kept asking for information about the client who ordered it. Finally, the employee checked their records. “The design sketches were provided by Ms. Chloe Sterling herself. Our company just handled the tailoring.” Harper immediately covered her mouth, her voice choking with sobs. “My sister must still not be over Liam. I should just give him back to her.” Give him back to me? I smiled bitterly. Liam and I were childhood sweethearts. We used to be the couple everyone envied. But then I was found by the Sterling family and met Harper. Everyone loved Harper. My childhood sweetheart loved her too. That wedding dress was indeed designed by me, for me. Once, filled with overflowing love, I designed that dress. I thought I would wear it to marry Liam. But now, that dress was something I could never touch. 2 There was never anything Harper wanted that she didn’t get. “I’m making the decision. This dress is yours now. We’ll consider it her wedding gift to you.” Harper hypocritically declined. “Will my sister be upset?” “Why should she be upset? Matters of the heart can’t be forced. It’s her own fault for having such a terrible, vicious personality. Liam not liking her is her own doing; what does that have to do with you? She always bullied you before; compensating you with a dress is the least she can do.” Harper happily put on the dress, spinning blissfully in front of the mirror. My mother watched her with a face full of pride and comfort. That was a look I could only ever dream of. When it came to Harper, my mother always handled everything personally. She said she wanted her precious daughter’s big day to be absolutely perfect, without a single regret. But me? After being stolen away as a baby, I was just an unnecessary extra. I watched my mother work day and night to alter the dress for Harper. Harper was slightly curvier than me, but she refused to pick a different dress. My mother, who loved her daughter more than her own life, ignored her health and insisted on altering it herself. My mother was a highly sought-after fashion designer. All year round, Harper practically only wore clothes designed by our mother. I never had that honor. Later, I became a designer myself. I designed my own clothes. Since no one loved me, I had to love myself. The night my mother finished altering the dress, she collapsed. After being rushed to the hospital, the situation was severe. “The patient’s leukemia has relapsed.” 3 My father swayed, almost losing his footing. “How is that possible? Didn’t you say her recovery was going well?” “Has the patient experienced any unusual physical strain lately?” “Well, our daughter is getting married, so my wife has been running around non-stop. She might be a bit exhausted. And lately, to alter our daughter’s wedding dress, she pulled two all-nighters.” “Foolish! Does she have a death wish? Her body just recovered; how could it handle that kind of exhaustion?” “Doctor, what do we do now? Please, you have to save my wife.” Harper looked at the doctor with tear-filled eyes. The doctor’s expression turned grave. “Prepare for a second bone marrow transplant.” “Quick, call Chloe and tell her to get here.” Instantly, the family remembered me again. They called me non-stop. “We’re sorry, the number you have reached cannot be completed as dialed…” Hearing the automated message, everyone’s faces turned ugly. Harper cried and said, “My sister must still be mad at me. I’ll go beg her. As long as she’s willing to save Mom, I’ll leave Liam. I’ll leave the Sterling family.” “Chloe is such a bitch! Mom is in critical condition, and she’s actually ignoring our calls. She really is a malicious, toxic bitch!” I looked at my brother. The brother who shared my blood. So, in your eyes, I was just a bitch. My father sneered coldly. “She thinks she has leverage over us now. She’s waiting for us to go beg her.” “I don’t need her bone marrow, that unfilial brat. Since she doesn’t care if I live or die, from now on, I’ll pretend I never had this daughter.” My mother woke from her coma, joining in the disgusted condemnation of me. My brother slammed his fist angrily against the wall. “I’m going to find her.” 4 I followed my brother to the apartment I used to rent. Bang! Bang! Bang! My brother pounded violently on the door, his face full of disgust and impatience. He banged for a long time, but no one answered. Just as he was about to leave, the elderly landlady came over. She lived right across the hall. She must have heard the noise and come out to check. “Where did Chloe go?” The old lady paused. “Chloe? Such a sweet, good girl. But she had a tragic fate. Died so young.” “Dead? How is that possible! “You’re making a sick joke, old lady.” My brother laughed outright, completely refusing to believe it. Right. In his eyes, I was a menace. They say the bad ones live a thousand years. How could I die so easily? But this time, I really was dead. “Who makes jokes like that! Chloe really passed away.” My brother continued to sneer. “Chloe really never changes! To get attention, she’ll make up any excuse. I’m her brother, I know exactly what kind of person she is. “She’s just rotten to the core, not even a fraction as good as Harper. You tell her to stop playing games and be a good girl and donate that bone marrow. Otherwise, I’ll make her regret it!” The white-haired landlady was furious. She grabbed a broom and chased my brother out. “I said, Chloe is dead! You and your toxic family killed her! “Chloe has been dead for six months! How exactly are you going to make her regret it? “Chloe had the worst luck in the world to be born into a family like yours!” My brother’s body stiffened as he dodged the broom. “You’re not joking? Chloe is really dead? How is that possible?” “Get out! Get out! You heartless animal!” My brother fled in a panic. 5 I followed my brother into his car. He lit a cigarette. Through the swirling smoke, I saw his face was dark and unreadable. Knowing I was dead, did my brother feel even a tiny bit sad? In the glow of the cigarette ember, my brother’s phone rang. He looked down at it. The contact name read: My Sweet Harper. Heh. Harper was My Sweet Harper. And me? Oh, I was The Debt Collector. That was how the whole family saved my contact. Surprisingly unanimous. My brother answered the phone. Harper’s slightly choked, raspy voice came through. “Brother, what did my sister say? Is she still mad? Don’t argue with her. I’ll go over and apologize. She’s stubborn. After she donated marrow the first time, she said she’d never acknowledge us again, that even if she died on the streets, it had nothing to do with us. I’m so scared she might do something foolish.” Hearing this, my brother’s originally heavy expression instantly cleared up. “Hah! Chloe is really pulling out all the stops now. She’s actually faking her own death!” I froze. My brother thought I was faking my death. No investigation. No asking for proof. Right. Because they fundamentally didn’t care about me. They always relied on their own subjective assumptions. “Then what do we do? Mom’s body can’t wait.” “I don’t believe it. Without Chloe, you’re telling me we can’t find another suitable marrow donor?” Right. I was always the one who shouldn’t exist. 6 When my brother got back, he embellished the story of me “faking my death.” The whole family instantly launched a crusade against me. “Just as I thought. A selfish, ungrateful wolf who only cares about herself.” “How did I give birth to something with no heart?” “My sister must still be mad at me. I’ll go apologize. I’ll beg for forgiveness.” The condemnation reached its peak amidst Harper’s crying. While comforting Harper, they used even more vicious words to curse me. Liam half-embraced Harper, gently patting her back to soothe her. “Harper, it’s not your fault. Kindness isn’t an excuse for Chloe to bully you. Someone as malicious as her is destined to be unloved.” Harper sobbed softly against Liam’s chest. But I remembered things from the past. Back then, Harper’s biological mother stole me and threw me into a dumpster. I was picked up by human traffickers, who sold me to a couple that hadn’t been able to have a child for years. Less than a year after adopting me, the couple had twins—a boy and a girl. After that, my originally ordinary life turned into a living hell. At only three years old, I had to start doing chores. I had to take care of my younger brother and sister. The slightest mistake earned me a heavy slap from my adoptive father. Simply having enough to eat and staying warm was a luxury for me. In those bitter days, Liam was one of the very few lights in my life. He would secretly slip me an egg on the way to school. He would treat my wounds after my adoptive father beat me. We got into a top university together, and naturally, we became a couple. Just when I was wholeheartedly looking forward to spending the rest of my life with him, he got together with Harper. “I shouldn’t have pitied her back then. She’s just a heartless, ungrateful monster.” Liam’s cruel words snapped me back to reality. So, being with me was just out of pity? When I was tutoring Liam, he once praised me: “Chloe, you are truly the most wonderful girl in the world.” After we got into university together, there was an opportunity for a three-month study abroad program. The university intended to send me. But Liam really wanted to go. He held me and begged me to give the opportunity to him. When I nodded, he happily picked me up and spun me around. “Chloe, don’t worry. I’m working this hard so I can give you a better life in the future. I want you to have the most beautiful wedding when you marry me.” Those promises from back then, Liam discarded like garbage. I was the only one gripping them tightly, refusing to let go. Even when what I was holding rotted away in my hands, I still clung to it like a lifeline. And Liam? He had forgotten long ago. 7 My father and brother used all their connections, trying to find another suitable bone marrow match for my mother. But a suitable match wasn’t that easy to find. Within half a month, the doctor issued an ultimatum. They had to find a match as soon as possible. Otherwise, my mother was in critical danger. So, the family started calling me again. Still unreachable. They looked at each other and realized that besides calling me, they had absolutely no other way to contact me. My father coughed. “Do any of you have phone numbers for Chloe’s friends or classmates?” Everyone’s eyes turned to Liam. Liam pulled out his phone and called a few classmates and friends he remembered me being close to. “Chloe? I haven’t talked to her in almost a year.” My brother’s face darkened. “This Chloe is a total freak. She doesn’t even have a single close friend or classmate. Who knows where she ran off to hide, not caring about anything. She deserves to be hated.” My mouth tasted bitter. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t want to stay here either. I didn’t want to be hated either. I wanted to be loved by everyone, just like Harper. 8 “Why don’t we try this?” Harper showed everyone the screen on her phone. It was a local emotional mediation TV show that was currently very popular. At that moment, an ad for the show was playing on the screen. “Love at 8:30, let’s meet in love. If you have any emotional problems, family conflicts, or need help finding relatives or friends, you can come to us.” My father hesitated a bit. “This is on television… will it look bad?” After all, the Sterling family was a prominent name locally. If this got on TV, and things went wrong, they’d become a laughingstock in their social circles. Harper bit her lip. “But we can’t reach my sister. We’re doing this to save Mom. As long as we can contact my sister, we should try any method.” My brother also thought it made sense. “Yeah. It’s not our fault anyway; we’re the victims here. If that evil Chloe isn’t afraid of losing face by abandoning her own biological mother, why should we care?” My father hesitated no longer. He immediately contacted the TV station, first promising a three-million-dollar sponsorship. Half an hour later, the station sent a crew over to interview and film. I couldn’t help but want to laugh. My family. Really hilarious. I was already dead. Were you going to put on a show for the whole city, or even the whole country? 9 “Chloe, come back. Mom doesn’t need you to donate bone marrow. Mom is just afraid she doesn’t have much time left and wants to see you one last time.” “Sister, please come back. It’s all my fault. You can hit me or scold me, I promise I won’t complain. Just come back. Dad, Mom, and Brother miss you so much.” “Chloe, come back. I didn’t treat you well before and made you unhappy. I’ll treat you better from now on.” “Chloe, come back. Mom and Dad miss you.” “Chloe, as long as you come back, Harper and I will cancel the wedding.” The family that cursed me out in the hospital completely changed their tune in front of the camera. A family that looked forward to my return like this… that was what I had always desperately hoped for. Except, this was all fake. It was just to get me to come back and donate bone marrow to my mother. Even though it was fake, I embarrassingly watched it all. If only this was all real. From the moment I could remember, my life had been dark. How I longed for light to shine in. I thought Liam was the light, but just as he was about to pull me out, he shoved me away, letting me fall into an even deeper abyss. Later, I thought the Sterling family was my salvation. Turns out, the Sterling family was just another abyss. My existence seemed to have never been wanted.

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I threw myself in front of a speeding truck to save him. For three years, I was a ghost in my own skin—a “vegetable” in a hospital bed. When I finally woke up, he was already at the altar with someone else. Broken and discarded, I ended my life by jumping from a rooftop. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. I was standing on that street corner, one second before the truck hit. This time, I didn’t move an inch to save him. Chapter 1 I spent over a year in grueling physical therapy. Alone. Finally, I could eat by myself, dress myself, and walk without a brace. To most people, these are the mundane basics of life. To me, they were as difficult as reaching for the stars. Even my doctors called it a medical miracle. After all, that accident had left me in a deep coma for three long years. Everyone thought I’d never wake up. They thought if I did, I’d be a hollow shell—paralyzed or brain-damaged. But I didn’t just wake up. Through a year of agonizing rehab, I got stronger. Now, if I don’t stand for too long, I look just like anyone else. I endured a level of pain most people can’t imagine. I suffered through countless mental breakdowns. And finally, the day arrived. I couldn’t wait any longer. I packed my bags and headed home, planning to surprise Caleb. He didn’t even know I was awake. But when I dragged my suitcase into our—his—apartment, my heart stopped. The place was covered in white lace and ivory ribbons. “Save the Date” cards were scattered on the counter. The house had been completely renovated. The floor-to-ceiling cat tree I had designed myself was gone. In its place stood a sleek, pink designer cabinet. My old friends were there, blowing up gold balloons. My former classmates were hanging floral garlands. My Aunt Sarah was meticulously arranging personalized party favors on a velvet-covered bed, her face lit with a celebratory glow. And my boyfriend? He was standing there in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, looking like a high-end department store mannequin. On the wall hung a massive, new wedding portrait. The girl in the photo was smiling. She looked incredibly sweet. Just then, a server carrying hot tea accidentally bumped into my arm. The scalding water splashed onto me, instantly blooming into a painful red welt. The server gasped. In an instant, every head in the room turned toward me. The air sucked out of the room. I saw shock, a flicker of joy, but mostly… intense, suffocating awkwardness. My aunt dropped the favor she was holding. It rolled across the hardwood floor in the dead silence. Caleb’s pupils shrunk. His face went ghostly pale. “Elara?” he whispered, his voice trembling as if he were seeing a ghost. I forced a smile that felt more like a jagged wound. I didn’t know how to answer. My body acted on instinct. I took two steps back, turned, and bolted out the door. It was autumn in the city. The wind was biting, and dead leaves were piled along the sidewalk. As I ran, they crunched under my feet—a brittle, harsh sound. Because of the lingering effects of the coma, I wasn’t fast. That short distance cost me every ounce of my strength. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me into a hard chest. Caleb held me, his entire body shaking. “You’re back,” he choked out. “Elara, God… I missed you so much.” My tears fell onto his expensive suit. I was back. But it felt like everything was gone. Chapter 2 Caleb went to his fiancée’s house to break off the engagement. The wedding was scheduled to happen in eighteen hours. My Aunt Sarah sat on the edge of my bed, stroking my hair, her eyes red from crying. “Don’t be too hard on Caleb, honey. These four years… he suffered so much.” “If it wasn’t for that girl, he might not have made it through.” I felt a lump in my throat. My eyes drifted to the corsage pinned to her dress. A vibrant red rose with a ribbon that read: Matron of Honor. She quickly covered it with her hand, a look of deep shame crossing her face. “Elara, I didn’t mean to betray you. I just…” “I just never thought you’d wake up.” Her voice trailed off until it was barely a whisper. I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Just as the tears threatened to spill over, I forced out a sentence. “I just got back. I’m jet-lagged. I need to sleep.” I pulled my hand away from hers and crawled under the covers. I pulled the duvet over my head and curled into a ball, shaking. This pain… it was a hundred times worse than the physical therapy. I found myself praying it was a nightmare. Just like the dreams I had in the early days of rehab—dreams where I was still a “vegetable,” unable to hold a spoon, drooling, unable to even use the bathroom… Hours passed before the bed dipped. I knew Caleb was back. The silence was deafening. Finally, I sat up to face him. Two buttons were missing from his shirt. His tie was shredded. His face was bruised and bloodied at the corner of his mouth. “Did they hit you?” I asked. “It’s fine. I deserved it.” I understood. The invitations were out. The venue was paid for. To bail the night before the wedding—the bride’s family wasn’t going to let him walk away unscathed. If I hadn’t come back, tomorrow they would have stood before God, exchanged rings, and started a life. The thought made me dig my nails into my palms. I asked the question that had been burning a hole in my heart. “Caleb, did you think I was never coming back, too?” He bit his lip, his eyes downcast. After a long pause, he whispered, “Elara, I’m here now. I’m never leaving you again.” He didn’t answer the question. And that promise—so full of pity—hurt more than the truth. Suddenly, Caleb’s phone buzzed. The lock screen popped up: a photo of him and that girl. The caller ID read—My Princess. He had even set the font to a cute, bubbly script. My Princess… What a sweet name. Once upon a time, that’s what he called me. Noticing my gaze, Caleb quickly hit ‘Ignore.’ But the person on the other end didn’t give up. The phone buzzed again and again. Caleb finally shut the phone off entirely. He looked at me, full of guilt. “I’m sorry. She… she just needs time to process.” He paused, then added, “But don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” “How long were you together?” I asked. The question caught him off guard. He gripped his phone tightly. “A year,” he rasped. I closed my eyes. A year. While I was hiding the news of my recovery because I was afraid my “broken” self would scare him… While I was falling and bleeding as I re-learned how to walk… while I was biting my tongue raw trying to speak… while I was crying in a bathroom because I couldn’t undo my own buttons… While I was pushing through the darkness, thinking only of the day I could be whole for him… He was falling in love with someone else. Chapter 3 Caleb’s promise to stay forever lasted exactly one day. He left in a hurry because Chloe—the girl—had fallen ill. Before he left, he swore he was just going to check on her, make sure she was okay, and then end it for good. One week passed. He didn’t come back. Cold and hollow, I began packing up every gift and trinket he had ever given me. I was going to send it all back. I wasn’t pathetic. I wasn’t going to beg for a man’s love. And I wasn’t stupid. If he had really cared, he would have found out I was awake. Nathan, my foster brother, tried to hide the news at my request, but a year is a long time. If Caleb had looked for me, he would have known. I had spent years making excuses for him. He’s busy. Flights are expensive. The distance is too far. He has his parents to care for… I was tired of making excuses. I was done with him. As I was carrying a box out to the mail, his “fiancée” showed up at my door. Chloe was wearing a loose sundress and holding a folder from a women’s health clinic. She saw me staring at the folder. She gently stroked her stomach and smiled. “Caleb and I were hours away from being husband and wife, Elara. You didn’t think we were just holding hands this whole year, did you?” Her smug look triggered a memory. I recognized her now. She was the “little sister” from our college days who always hung around him—Chloe. No wonder my aunt was the Matron of Honor. She and Chloe’s father had been high school sweethearts. “Are you trying to guilt him into staying with you?” Chloe asked, tilting her head with a look of fake innocence. She reached into my box and pulled out a soda tab. It was the “promise ring” Caleb gave me in college. He told me one day he’d replace it with a real diamond. Ironically, the real diamond was now on her finger. “Don’t be delusional,” she whispered. “He knows he’s going to be a father. He’s thrilled.” She tossed the soda tab onto the ground like trash and leaned into my ear. “Let me tell you a secret. Caleb and I have had a thing for a long time. Four years ago, the day of your accident? He was actually on his way to break up with you.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. I remembered his stuttering that day. I remembered his silence over the last four years. The “heroism” I thought I had displayed… it was all a joke. As I turned to walk away, Chloe intentionally bumped into me. The box in my arms fell, spilling my memories across the pavement. She looked at me with pure triumph. She had won. But as she stepped back, she slipped on a crystal bracelet that had fallen from the box. She lost her balance and tumbled down the porch steps. Blood began to pool under her dress. She screamed, calling me a murderer. Caleb appeared out of nowhere, rushing to her side. He shoved me back so hard I nearly fell. “Elara! How could you be so cruel?” My heart was dead, but I wasn’t a doormat. I stepped forward and slapped Caleb across the face. “I’m not the one who’s disgusting here,” I spat. Chloe’s family called the police. They wanted me in jail. My aunt looked at me as if I were a stranger, desperate to distance herself from me. My old friends whispered that I was a psycho. But then, the evidence came out. Nathan had installed a Ring camera at my front door. It caught everything—Chloe’s smug face, her confession, and her own clumsy fall. She had tripped on her own greed. The day Caleb came to apologize, I was standing on the edge of the apartment building’s roof. The stars I used to love were blocked out by the city smog. “Elara, I was wrong! I should have trusted you. Please, come down. I’m begging you!” My aunt was there, too. “Elara, I’m so sorry! Don’t do anything stupid!” It’s funny. When you decide to leave the world, the world suddenly decides to love you. I stood on the ledge, a leaf ready to drop. Caleb fell to his knees, sobbing, saying he loved me. I was just so tired. Between the rehab and the heartbreak, my mental health had shattered. I needed pills just to close my eyes. I thought Caleb would be my salvation, but he was the one who pushed me into the abyss. I had lost four years of my youth. I had lost my health. I had lost the ability to love. I wasn’t ever going to be okay again. I opened my arms, letting the cold wind whip through my hair. As I tipped backward into the air, I looked at Caleb and whispered: “I curse you to never find a single soul who truly loves you.” Chapter 4 I didn’t expect to wake up. But when I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the day of the accident, four years ago. A younger Caleb stood before me, looking at his shoes. “Elara, look… I actually…” “You want to break up, right?” The familiar scene played out, and I couldn’t help but finish his sentence for him. He snapped his head up, looking at me in total shock. “You’re seeing Chloe. You’ve been cheating on me for at least three months.” I took a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of relief. “I agree. We’re done.” I said it so casually, as if I were talking about the weather. Caleb panicked. “I wasn’t cheating! I don’t know who told you that, but I’d never betray you! I just…” His voice dropped. “I just don’t think we’re right for each other.” Hilarious. He chased me for a year. We were together for four. And only now did he decide we weren’t “right.” I scoffed. In the distance, the clock tower struck eight. Snow began to fall. The traffic light at the intersection flickered and went out. Everything was exactly like the first time. “Caleb, I was going to give you a chance. If you had just been man enough to admit you liked someone else, I would have respected that.” “But you don’t even have the courage to admit your own mistakes.” I took a step back, looking at him with pity. At twenty, Caleb was handsome and full of life. But inside, he was hollow. It took me two lifetimes to see it. Just then, the screech of tires echoed through the street. Two blinding headlights cut through the snow. A massive truck was careening toward the curb—straight toward me. In my first life, I had lunged forward to push Caleb out of the way. This time, I saw Caleb’s first instinct. He turned and scrambled back, desperate to save himself. But the truck hit a stone pillar, swerved violently, and fishtailed—straight toward Caleb. CRASH. The world went silent. The pristine white snow was suddenly stained a deep, shocking crimson. A single tear escaped my eye. If Caleb had run toward me—like I had run toward him in my first life—the truck would have hit the brick wall behind us. We both would have been fine. But he didn’t. The boy I had loved since I was sixteen didn’t even look back at me. As they loaded Caleb into the ambulance, I picked up his phone from the snow. A notification popped up. Exactly one minute ago, Chloe had posted a photo of them kissing. The caption: Finally, you’re all mine. The comments were full of “congrats” from Caleb’s friends—the same ones who called me “sister-in-law” yesterday. Only one comment stood out. It was from Nathan, my foster brother: In this day and age, do people really have no shame? The comment was deleted seconds later. My parents died when I was young. My aunt took most of the insurance money. Nathan was the one who raised me. He dropped out of college and worked two jobs just to pay for my tuition. In my first life, he was the one who stayed by my hospital bed for four years. I dialed Nathan’s number. The background was noisy—he was likely at the warehouse where he worked. Nathan wasn’t a tech mogul yet. He was just a guy trying to survive. “Nate,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I miss you.” Chapter 5 Nathan borrowed a beat-up pickup truck and drove halfway across the state through a blizzard to get to me. The first thing he said was: “Don’t cry, Elara. If you still want Caleb, I’ll find a way to make him leave that girl.” His eyes were fierce. He looked ready to throw hands with the world for me. My heart warmed. In my first life, he was the first person I saw when I woke up from the coma. He taught me to eat, to speak, to walk. He never cared if I made a mess. He never judged me. The hospital staff used to whisper that I was a burden, that I’d never get married. Nathan had shouted at them, saying if I never married, he’d take care of me forever. He was my true salvation. Why had I been so obsessed with Caleb? At least in this life, I was healthy. “I don’t want him anymore,” I said, climbing into the truck. “Let’s go to his place. I’m moving out.” I needed a clean break. We went to the apartment Caleb and I shared. An entire wall was filled with my dance trophies. I remembered how excited I was when we moved in. I had picked out the plants, the rugs, the furniture. I thought this was my “forever” home. Slowly, I packed it all into boxes, erasing every trace of myself. I left the keys with the super. When I finished, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Cutting my losses early was a lesson that cost me a lifetime to learn. Just then, I got a text from one of Caleb’s friends. Elara, Caleb was in a wreck. They had to amputate his right leg below the knee. He’s at Mercy Hospital… I didn’t even finish reading. I blocked the number. Chapter 6 A month passed. I was back at school, excelling in my classes and winning a major scholarship. The campus was buzzing with two stories. First, that Caleb had cheated on me with Chloe. Second, that Caleb was now an amputee. “There’s a third story,” my roommate Maya whispered as we sat in the dining hall. Maya knew everything. “Chloe went to see him in the hospital. When she found out about the leg, she almost fainted. As soon as he woke up, she dumped him. She told him she was too young to spend her life with a ‘cripple.’” “Talk about karma. They went public and broke up on the same day.” Maya looked at me. “Seriously, Elara, you dodged a bullet. That guy would have dragged you down with him.” I stared at my shoes. Losing a limb, being dumped by the “love of his life,” seeing his future crumble… Now he knew how it felt. A few weeks later, Caleb was discharged. His friends tried to throw a “Welcome Home” party to cheer him up. They actually had the nerve to tag me in the group chat. Elara, Caleb’s been in the hospital for a month and you haven’t visited once. You have to show up for the homecoming! They even sent a location pin. Did they forget how they cheered when Chloe posted that picture? I was about to reply when Maya beat me to it. You guys are tagging the wrong person. Elara is the ex-girlfriend he cheated on. She doesn’t owe him a damn thing. The chat went silent for a minute. Then someone replied: He’s disabled now. Can’t she let the past go? Are you kidding? Maya recorded a voice memo. Caleb only lost a leg. Elara lost her heart! I hugged her. She was the best “internet bodyguard” I could ask for.

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After transferring from a small-town public school in Montana to an elite private academy on the East Coast, I accidentally took the number one spot in the senior rankings. The principal’s daughter accused me of cheating. She said a “flyover state nobody” like me didn’t belong in the same zip code as her, let alone breath the same air as the school’s star athlete. “Let me tell you something, Ava Sterling,” she hissed. “Ryder Black and I are endgame. A country bumpkin like you shouldn’t even dream about him.” I just blinked. I’d spent years living in a multi-million dollar ranch my dad built just for my recovery, inherited my mother’s genius-level IQ, and as it turns out, the “school star” is the boy I’ve been practically engaged to since we were in diapers. None of this is exactly my fault, is it? If she hates going to school with me that much, maybe I should just give her what she wants. 1 When the results of the first senior midterms were posted, the hallway at Saint Jude’s Prep exploded. “The top spot went to the transfer student? I thought for sure it would be Britney Crawford.” “Unbelievable. Isn’t Ava Sterling from some tiny town in the middle of nowhere? How is she this smart?” I kept my head down, focusing on my practice problems, acting like I couldn’t hear the whispers. Spending my life in rural Montana hadn’t made me a “hardworking farm girl,” but it had given me a very chill, zen-like personality. I’d been sickly since birth. My parents had flown in every specialist in the country, but nothing worked. Finally, a spiritual advisor told them I was “carrying a storm.” If I wanted to survive, I had to live away from the city’s chaos, in a place with clean air and open water, to let my body heal. He gave me a silver heirloom bracelet and said, “When this silver snaps on its own without force, the storm has passed. She can return to her true life.” My parents, desperate, bought a massive ranch in a quiet Montana valley and built a sanctuary for me to live in peace. Amazingly, away from the smog and stress, I got better. And recently, the silver bracelet just… snapped. The moment they heard, my parents couldn’t wait to bring me home. That’s how I ended up at this elite prep school. My mom wanted me here because my uncle is on the Board of Trustees. She figured he could look after me while she worked. My mom is a force of nature. A child prodigy who skipped four grades, the youngest postdoc in the country’s history, and currently a senior fellow at an Ivy League institution. She’s basically an academic deity. Fortunately, I got her brain. I’m not as legendary as she is, but I’m no slouch. I pick up everything instantly. So, even though my old public school didn’t have much funding, I was always at the top of the charts. Even here, at a school for the one percent, these “Ivy-track” midterm questions were a walk in the park for me. But Britney Crawford wasn’t buying it. She marched up to my desk, slamming her manicured hand down. “Ava Sterling, you really think you can cheat your way to the top and not get caught? It’s pathetic.” I looked up, raising an eyebrow at her confidence. On my first day, my desk mate had warned me about her. Britney was the Principal’s daughter. Wealthy, “brilliant,” and the undisputed queen of the grade. She was arrogant and treated everyone like they were beneath her. My desk mate told me to stay out of her way. I’m a zen person. I don’t like drama. But zen doesn’t mean I’m a doormat. If Britney is going to get in my face, it would be rude not to respond. I let out a soft laugh. “You saw the curve, Britney. Only one person in the entire grade broke a 1580 on the practice SATs, and I beat your score by nearly a hundred points. If I cheated, tell me—who did I copy from?” Britney stammered for a second, then hissed, “Everyone knows the proctors in the back overflow room are lazy. You obviously had your phone out!” Because I was a transfer, I didn’t have a previous rank, so they sat me in the last room with the strugglers. I crossed my arms. “You sound so sure. What, were you sitting next to me watching?” “I don’t need to see it!” Britney snapped. “There is no way a flyover state nobody like you could outscore me.” Ah, I got it. The “perpetual number one” lost her crown and was throwing a tantrum. I leaned back in my chair. “A lot of words, Britney. Zero evidence.” Even in the overflow room, there are cameras and teachers. You can’t just Google the answers to a specialized physics exam. I had thirty witnesses. What did she have? 2 Britney had nothing. But she’d made a scene, and the whole class was watching. If she backed down now, she’d lose her “Queen Bee” status. She gritted her teeth. “Fine. If you’re so ‘innocent,’ prove it. Come to the faculty lounge. We’ll get a teacher to print a fresh set of Advanced Olympiad problems. You do them right in front of us.” “Deal,” I said, nodding instantly. “But on one condition. When I finish, you apologize to me in front of the entire senior class.” Seeing how fast I agreed, Britney’s face paled slightly. I glanced at her. “What’s the matter? Scared?” “In your dreams!” she barked, her face turning red. “Fine. Let’s go.” As the principal’s daughter, the teachers did whatever she asked. Within ten minutes, they had a packet of Ivy-level competitive math and logic problems ready. During the long break, Britney brought the papers to the common area. She moved the tables, surrounding me with eight of her “guards” to watch my every move. No phones, no notes, just me and the pen. She slapped the paper in front of me. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Montana.” I yawned, bored of the chatter, and started writing. By the time I finished the first page, Britney’s smug expression began to crumble. By the second page, she was biting her lip so hard it almost bled. By the third, a cold sweat had broken out on her forehead. When I set the pen down after the final question, Britney actually stumbled back. She stared at me like I was a monster. The students surrounding us started cheering. “Holy crap, Ava! You nailed those! Those are Putnam-level problems!” “Is she a human calculator?” “Britney, just admit it. Ava is the real deal.” The doubts Britney had planted were gone, replaced by pure awe. I looked at her. “I finished. Your turn to keep your end of the deal.” Britney stared at me, silent. The whispers started. “Why isn’t she saying anything? She lost the bet.” “Typical. The principal’s daughter thinks she’s above the rules.” Britney’s face turned a deep, bruised purple. Finally, she choked out, “Fine! I lost. I’m sorry!” I gave a casual “Cool” and went back to my book. Britney lost it. “Don’t get cocky, Ava! So you can solve some math problems. You’re still just a flyover state nerd. You’ll never have the status or the life we have here.” “Right. I’m a nerd,” I replied calmly. “But you live in the heart of the world’s best education system and you still got smoked by a ‘flyover state nerd.’ Doesn’t that make you the embarrassing one?” “You—!” Britney turned a shade of green I’d never seen on a human before. She stomped her foot, turned around, and ran out of the room. I didn’t care. I had more practice problems to solve. 3 After the “cheating” scandal, Britney and I were officially at war. Somehow, my reputation as a “Genius Transfer” spread. Even the freshmen and sophomores knew my name. People started coming to my desk during lunch just to “pay their respects.” The teachers loved me, too. “Ava got a perfect score on the mock AP Bio.” “Ava found a shortcut to the calculus proof.” “Everyone should look at Ava’s essay for inspiration.” They were even saying I could get into any Ivy I wanted with my eyes closed. Honestly, it was a bit much. But it was driving Britney insane, which made me feel great. Whenever she got the chance, she’d throw shade. She called me “basic,” “uncultured,” and “poor.” I ignored her. Arguing with a narcissist is a waste of my study time. I also didn’t feel like telling her that my last name is Sterling—as in William Sterling, the guy who owns half the tech infrastructure in this country. Two weeks passed. I was coming back from lunch when I heard a group of girls gossiping in the lounge. “Did you hear? Ryder Black is coming back today.” “Oh god, finally. The school has been so boring without him.” I perked up. Ryder Black. My age. My “childhood friend,” if you want to be technical. Our moms were best friends. When they were both pregnant, they made a joke about us getting married one day. Every summer, he’d fly out to my ranch in Montana. Ryder was a spoiled brat growing up—a total terror to everyone else, but he always behaved for me. He’d gone behind his parents’ back to join a pro-esports team, and he actually became a legend. Last year, his team won the World Championship. He was the MVP, the “golden boy” of the gaming world. He’d been missing school to compete in Europe. Last time we talked, he said he wouldn’t be back until after finals. I guess he finished early. “Look at Britney,” one girl whispered. “She’s glowing.” “Well, her ‘God’ is coming back. Of course she’s happy.” I looked over. Britney was holding a compact mirror, fixing her hair, looking like a shy, blooming flower. It was the polar opposite of the mean girl she usually was. I felt a shiver of pure cringe. No way. Ryder is Britney’s “God”? This is going to be hilarious. Britney already hates me. If she finds out Ryder is my “family-arranged” fiancé, she might actually explode. I almost felt bad for her. Almost. 4 The day Ryder returned, he was trending on Twitter for his championship win. The whole school went into a frenzy. A crowd gathered at the front gates. People from the upper floors were hanging out the windows, trying to get a glimpse of him. The teachers tried to stop them, but eventually, they just gave up. Girls were screaming, “Ryder, I love you!” I walked past on my way to the library, looking completely bored. A guy standing next to me suddenly yelled, “Ryder, marry me!” I stopped. Okay, I was impressed. The esports fandom is truly built different. My desk mate saw me and pulled me over. “Ava, come here! I saved you a spot at the front!” Britney was nearby, sneering at me. “I thought you were too ‘zen’ for this, Ava. Yet here you are, thirsty for Ryder like everyone else.” I glanced at her. “Your Ryder?” Britney lifted her chin. “Damn right. Ryder and I are meant to be. Don’t even think about trying your ‘smart girl’ act on him. He likes girls with class.” She laughed dismissively. “Not that he’d ever notice a country bumpkin like you anyway.” I shrugged. “Whatever you say, Britney.” I was curious to see who he’d notice. Arguing with her was like trying to teach a brick wall to read. “He’s here!” someone yelled. A black SUV pulled up to the curb. Ryder stepped out, still wearing his blue and white team jersey. He moved with that effortless, wealthy confidence. Messy black hair, clear eyes, and that “golden boy” energy. My verdict: He’d definitely gotten hotter since the summer. Ryder stood by the car, scanning the crowd. The moment his eyes landed on me, he broke into a massive, toothy grin and waved. I gave him a small, polite smile back. The girls around me started losing it. “Did Ryder just wave at Britney? He smiled at her!” “Wait, are they official now?” “Britney’s been chasing him since freshman year. He finally gave in?” I looked at Britney. She was blushing, covering her face with her hands, making a big show of being “modest.” “Oh, Ryder,” she giggled in a high-pitched voice. “I told him not to be so public about it!” I had so many questions. This girl was a professional at self-delusion. The bell rang, and the crowd dispersed. Ryder was in the class next to mine. To get to his room, he had to walk past my window. Half my class was leaning toward the glass, hearts practically fluttering as they waited for him to pass. I stayed in my seat, taking notes. Go ahead, I thought. Stare all you want. I’m going to out-study all of you. A whistle sounded from the window. I looked up. Ryder was standing there, flashing his white teeth at me. Then he saw the teacher’s glare, shrugged, and jogged away. “Ooooh!” the class started murmuring. Everyone was looking at… Britney, who sat behind me. Britney was bright red, hiding her face on her desk, grinning like an idiot. They really thought he was flirting with her. And Britney was 100% convinced of it. God, this was a mess. The next period was with the Dean of Students. She adjusted her glasses and looked at us sternly. “You are here to study. If I catch any of you in a ‘distraction,’ I don’t care who your parents are. There will be consequences.” I nodded in agreement. My thing with Ryder wasn’t a “distraction.” Even though we were “engaged” by family tradition, our parents had an agreement: No dating until we were out of school. Focus on the future first. So, the only person about to get hurt here was Britney. She looked like she was on the verge of happy tears. After class, the teacher kept us for five extra minutes. The second she left, Ryder was at our door. Before I could move, Britney shot out of her seat like a coiled spring and ran to him. Even Ryder looked startled. Britney tried to grab his arm, but he flinched back, looking genuinely confused. “Uh, do I know you?” 5 Ryder’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough for the front half of the class to hear. The silence was deafening. “Wait, what? He’s not here for Britney?” “I thought they were a thing!” “Then what was she doing just now?” “Yikes. That’s embarrassing.” Britney looked like she’d just swallowed a fly. She grit her teeth, her voice trembling. “Didn’t you just wave at me? You were smiling at me at the gate!” Ryder frowned. “I was waving at Ava Sterling. When was I smiling at you?” The gossip mill shifted into high gear. “Did I miss a chapter? When did Ryder and Ava meet?” “He just got back, she just moved here… wait, did they know each other before?” “But Ava’s from a ranch in Montana, right?” Britney turned around and glared at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. I kept my face neutral. Totally innocent. Ryder, still oblivious to the social hierarchy he’d just nuked, waved me over. I sighed. Under Britney’s death-stare, I walked out of the classroom. If looks could kill, I’d be on my 99th reincarnation by now. Ryder pulled me aside. “Is that girl okay? Does she have some kind of… condition?” I looked at him, half-smirking. “I heard she’s been ‘in love’ with you for years. You really didn’t notice?” Ryder looked genuinely baffled. “Ava, girls are always ‘in love’ with me. If I cared about every single one, I’d be exhausted.” I laughed. “Fair point.” Suddenly, Ryder reached behind his back like a magician and pulled out a small, elegant box. He held it out to me with both hands. “Here. For you.” “What is it?” I opened it. Inside was his gold MVP medal from the world championship. I looked up in shock. Ryder grinned. “Success is only fun if you share it with the person who matters.” I was stunned. “But… I didn’t get you a ‘welcome back’ gift.” He patted my head. “Seeing you the second I got back is the only gift I wanted.” I finally understood. That’s why he flew back from Europe so fast. He came back for me. The bell rang. Ryder walked me back to my door. As I walked in, I heard him laugh behind me. “You grew, Ava.” I turned back. Ryder was leaning against the wall, winking at me in the sunlight. He looked soft. Gentle. The second class ended, a mob surrounded my desk. Everyone wanted to know the deal between me and Ryder. Even my desk mate asked, “Ava, seriously, are you guys dating?” I looked her in the eye and said, “I promise you, we are not ‘dating’ in high school.” Whether she believed me or not was her problem. When the rumors were about Britney and Ryder, the other girls stayed quiet. But now that it was the “Montana nobody,” the jealousy was coming out in full force. “Why even ask? She’s obviously not his type. She’s not in his league.” “Exactly. So she’s smart. She’s still just a bookworm. A girl like that will never have the family background to match a guy like Ryder.” “And honestly, she’s not even that pretty. Just average.” Salty. So salty. Most of the class had been neutral during my first spat with Britney. But seeing me “close” to Ryder pushed them into Britney’s camp. Britney made sure to announce to the room: “Don’t think catching Ryder’s attention for five minutes makes you special, Ava. You’re still a flyover state loser. I’m going to make sure everyone knows you don’t belong at Saint Jude’s.” 6 I didn’t care. I focused on my SAT prep. But some people don’t let you stay zen. With the School Anniversary coming up, everyone was talking about the gala. Seniors aren’t usually supposed to participate in the performances, but because our grade had record-breaking test scores, the Dean gave us a “night off” to celebrate. They even set aside slots for senior speeches and performances. And that’s how I found out—without my knowledge—that I had been signed up for a solo vocal performance. The song: Starlight. If the homeroom teacher hadn’t mentioned it during announcements, I never would have known. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Britney was behind it. Her best friend is the Class President, who was in charge of the sign-up sheet. I’d been set up. The whole class was looking at me with weird expressions. “Isn’t Starlight the lead single from Logan Sterling’s new album?” “Yeah. It’s got those insane high notes and runs. Nobody dares to cover it.” “Covering that song is a death sentence. Even pros struggle with it. Why is Ava trying to sing it? Is she crazy?” “Wait, I heard rumors that Saint Jude’s invited Logan Sterling himself to headline the gala. If he sings Starlight and then Ava sings it… isn’t that just a public execution?” “Is he really coming? I didn’t see it on his official tour dates.” “My dad is on the board. It’s a private ‘alumni’ visit. It’s 100% happening.” The conversation shifted from me to the mega-star Logan Sterling. I sat there, listening to the gossip, and blinked. Wait. My brother is coming to my school? Why didn’t he tell me? Yes, the superstar Logan Sterling is my big brother. He debuted at twenty on a reality show and became an overnight sensation because of his looks, his voice, and his songwriting. Within six months, he was a global icon. But he’s private. He doesn’t do many interviews. He only shows up for major awards or charity. The fact that he’d come back to his old prep school for a small gig was a huge deal. While the girls were screaming about Logan, I stood up and walked over to the Class President and Britney. “Take my name off the list.” I was brief. I didn’t have time for their games. The Class President looked away guiltily. “The list is already submitted to the Dean. If you want to cancel, tell her yourself.” I expected this, but I still frowned. “You signed me up without asking. Why is it my job to fix your ‘mistake’?” Britney didn’t look guilty at all. She looked triumphant. “What? I thought you liked the spotlight. This is your chance to shine. You should be thanking us.” With Britney backing her, the President got bold. “Exactly. You’re basically performing on the same stage as Logan Sterling. People would kill for that. Stop acting like a victim and enjoy the opportunity.” I almost laughed. Performing with Logan Sterling? I’ve heard that guy sing in the shower. I’ve heard every draft of every song he’s ever written. I am his first audience for everything. I really didn’t need the “opportunity.”

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As an intern, I accidentally spilled a lunchbox because of the office “mean girl” (let’s call her a “green tea”). She demanded I clean it up, telling me that someone with my lack of money and background was only fit to be a janitor. I agreed with her. Then, right in front of her, I called the boss to inform him that the rent for the office space would be increasing by 20% next month. When I first started this internship, I didn’t even have time to be happy about running into an alum before she gave me a harsh lesson. On my very first day, she used her “senior intern” status to dump all her work on me. Ladies, is this even allowed? 1 In my senior year of college, I applied for an internship at a random company in my family’s office building just to get the required internship certificate. I never expected to run into an office “mean girl” on my very first day. I thought my first day would be filled with welcoming colleagues and friendly managers. At the very least, a regular employee should have shown me the ropes. Instead, what awaited me was a thick stack of bidding documents. The person handing them to me was Chloe, the “it girl” of our department at college. She seemed to have started her internship here before me. At this moment, she lifted her chin, her lips curling into a condescending smile. “Mia, these bidding documents need to be done before you leave today. Make sure you finish them.” I was stunned. Since when do interns have the authority to assign work to other interns? So, I went to the manager in charge of our department to ask about the feasibility of giving a brand-new intern such an urgent bidding document on her first day, and whether an intern even had the right to delegate tasks to another intern. I thought the manager would handle it reasonably. To my surprise, he barely glanced at me, looking annoyed. “If she asked you to do it, just do it. Interns need to prove themselves. Chloe is giving you an opportunity; you should be thanking her.” I was completely speechless. I even started wondering if this company was actually viable. Will they even be able to pay the rent next month? But right now, I wasn’t the landlord; I was an intern. I could only grit my teeth and leave the manager’s office. As I walked past Chloe’s desk, she was looking at me with a smug, gloating smile. I ignored her, hugged the documents, and hurried back to my desk to start working, terrified that if I was even a little slow, I wouldn’t finish by the end of the day. “Why bother fighting with her? She’s only been here a couple of weeks, and she’s been throwing her weight around the whole time. The General Manager is her uncle. She’s a nepo baby; we can’t afford to mess with her,” my colleague Jessica whispered, tugging at my sleeve. “We’re all just here to earn a paycheck. There’s no need to go up against management.” I paused for a second. That’s it? That’s what counts as “management”? I didn’t answer Jessica. I continued studying the bidding documents. Because it was my first time, there were many things I didn’t understand. Fortunately, when I asked my other colleagues, they patiently explained things to me. “Wow, aren’t you supposed to be top three in our major? You have the nerve to ask for help with such basic problems?” Chloe said sarcastically, filing her nails at her desk. I didn’t hold back either. “Well, I should thank you for giving me this ‘opportunity,’ right?” Chloe clearly hesitated for a moment but quickly regained her smug expression. “Then you better work hard.” I was so busy that day I didn’t even have time for lunch. I barely managed to finish the bidding documents before quitting time. But when I handed them to Chloe, she casually tossed them aside and said flatly, “Just leave them there. I’ll look at them tomorrow.” With that, she grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and sashayed out of the office. 2 “Just bear with it. Since she got here, she’s already pushed out three other interns,” Jessica sighed, standing behind me. “Did you see her outfit? That’s worth several months of our salary.” I watched Chloe’s slender figure disappear and then looked down at my own custom-tailored, logo-less clothes. I strongly disagreed with Jessica’s assessment. I expected Chloe to keep finding ways to make my life difficult in the following days. I even made up my mind that if she provoked me one more time, I would just throw my stuff down and quit. Surprisingly, she was very quiet over the next few days. Aside from occasionally making passive-aggressive comments about me being poor, she didn’t do much else. One afternoon, I ordered takeout with some colleagues. I have a pretty big appetite, and one portion of rice wasn’t enough. A few of the female colleagues who were dieting practically fought to give me the extra rice from their lunchboxes. I happily accepted, not wanting to waste food. “Lower-class people are really something else. Even for lunch, they have to scrounge for scraps from everyone else,” Chloe sneered as she opened her expensive bento box, looking at me like I was something disgusting. “Lower-class? What, does that make you upper-class?” I put down my chopsticks and retorted with a cold smile. “At least I’m higher class than someone who has to beg for food from others. You’re so young, yet you’re always trying to take advantage. Are you really that desperate for a bite of rice?” Chloe’s words were so harsh that the colleagues eating with us in the breakroom looked uncomfortable. Someone tried to stand up for me, but after a colleague tugged at their shirt, they stayed quiet. “It’s a blessing to be able to eat food shared by others. Some people couldn’t get it even if they wanted to. Would anyone even offer it to you?” I picked up a piece of radish, popped it into my mouth, and ate it with relish. I even hummed in satisfaction, praising how good the shared food tasted. “You’re acting like a beggar, and you’re proud of it,” Chloe sneered, her nose practically wrinkling in disgust. She threw down that harsh remark, picked up her food, and left. Because of Chloe’s blatant bullying, my colleagues started distancing themselves from me. Fewer and fewer people were willing to eat with me. Even Jessica, after Chloe dropped a vague hint—”Hanging out with someone as poor as Mia might ruin your career prospects”—stopped talking to me. But none of this bothered me much. I just wanted my internship certificate. I only needed to stick it out for a month to get it and leave this toxic environment, so I could endure it. I just didn’t expect her to go so far as to sabotage the company just to mess with me. When the results of the bidding came out, the General Manager called me and my department manager into his office. The General Manager looked to be in his forties. He wore a suit but lacked the sharp look of a professional; instead, he had the classic paunch of a stereotypical boss. Standing next to him was Chloe. As soon as we walked in, we saw Chloe quickly straightening up from a bent position. The sound of us opening the door seemed to have flustered her. My eyes flickered. I wasn’t entirely sure what I saw, but had the General Manager just moved his hand away from Chloe’s waist? Weren’t they supposed to be uncle and niece? Did I imagine it? “Why are the numbers in this bidding document wrong?” Before I could think further, the General Manager threw a bound document at my feet. I frowned and picked it up. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing because I had personally double-checked every single number in that document. It was impossible for there to be an error. But strangely, when I flipped through it, the numbers were wrong. “Mr. Davis, Mia is new. It’s inevitable she’d be a little careless. Please don’t be too hard on her. If she loses this job, she probably won’t even be able to afford food.” Chloe smiled playfully, patting Mr. Davis on the shoulder. Her soft fingers lightly brushed against his suit collar in a way that felt strangely intimate. I kept frowning and didn’t reply, trying to recall everything I did after finishing the document. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Do you know how big of a mess you’ve made?” Mr. Davis slammed his hand on the desk and yelled, pointing right at my nose. “Our company was guaranteed to win this project! Because of the errors in your document, we lost the bid to a competitor. Do you have any idea how much money you just cost us?” “Mr. Davis, this isn’t my document,” I said calmly, placing the binder back on his desk. “Not yours? Then whose is it? Don’t try to shift the blame.” Mr. Davis narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in them. I let out a cold laugh. “I prepared the document, but the numbers in the one I made were correct. As for why this version has the wrong numbers, you’ll have to ask Chloe.” “Mia, what are you talking about? The whole company knows you made this document. How can you have the nerve to blame me? And after I just pleaded for you!” Chloe glared at me, raising her voice. “Pleaded for me? I don’t need it. This isn’t even the version I gave you. You changed the numbers.” “You… you must be joking. Why on earth would I change the numbers?” “That’s a question for you. Why did you change my numbers?” Perhaps seeing that I wasn’t intimidated, Chloe became increasingly agitated. “You’re accusing me of changing the numbers. What proof do you have? You printed this document yourself and handed it to me.” I scoffed. “It’s true I printed it and gave it to you, but the next day, didn’t you ask me for the digital copy?” “You did send me the digital copy, but I checked it today, and the numbers match the printed version. So, you made the mistake.” Chloe put on a hurt, victimized expression. “Mia, I always thought you were a good person. I never expected you to falsely accuse me just to avoid responsibility.” Hearing this, I actually laughed. I looked at Mr. Davis again. “So, she’s claiming I got the numbers wrong, is that right?” “Mia, a mistake is a mistake. Don’t try to blame your colleagues. Do you know the company could sue you for the losses you’ve caused?” Mr. Davis lowered his voice, adding a threatening tone. “Mr. Davis, you don’t need to scare me. Let’s set aside whether we lost the bid solely because of this document. Just the fact that you entrusted a crucial bidding document to an intern on her first day—do you think a judge would even entertain a lawsuit against me?” “Furthermore, she insists both the digital and printed versions I gave her had the wrong numbers. So, Chloe, did you actually read the email? When I sent you the document, I CC’d the department manager and the CEO.” Mr. Davis seemed to have forgotten about this detail. He hurriedly opened his email and, sure enough, found the email I had sent ten days ago. “Who gave you permission to CC the CEO?” Mr. Davis seemed furious, his eyes bulging with anger. I smiled, a bright, cheerful smile. “Is there a rule against CC’ing the CEO? Mr. Davis, you might want to spend some time figuring out how you’re going to explain to the CEO why the wrong version of the document was submitted.” 3 When I left the General Manager’s office, I wore a victorious smile, completely ignoring the venomous glares from the people behind me. In reality, regardless of whether that email existed or not, they had no legal grounds to pin the blame on a brand-new intern. However, the email’s existence changed the dynamic entirely. Of course, I also knew I had severely offended those three. I really didn’t understand where Chloe’s malice toward me came from. I had heard she pushed out other interns, but her actions toward me seemed far more targeted than simple hazing. If someone more timid had faced this today, they probably would have panicked completely. I didn’t have time to dwell on it and threw myself into my next tasks. With this incident as a warning, I knew I had to be much more careful. After lunch, Mrs. Jenkins, the cleaning lady, placed a container of fruit on my desk. “Eat up. You’ve been working so hard these past two days, you’ve lost weight.” Before I could even thank her, Chloe’s shrill voice came from behind me. “What is that smell? Did you dig that out of the trash?” I frowned and turned around. She had resumed her arrogant posture, dramatically pinching her nose. “Have you never seen grapes before? Does your family have to dig through the trash to find them?” I picked up a grape from the container and popped it into my mouth. It was sweet and crisp—my favorite, Shine Muscat grapes. “Who hasn’t seen grapes? It’s just funny that someone who begs for lunch scraps is suddenly acting high and mighty. You have to rely on a cleaning lady for handouts. Stuff from a cleaning lady obviously belongs in the trash.” Chloe waved her hand in disgust. “Chloe, watch your mouth. Stop associating the cleaning staff with the trash,” I said, my anger finally boiling over. I slammed the container down on the desk, the loud noise catching the attention of everyone in the office. “Am I wrong? Cleaners pick up trash. What’s the problem? Of course, someone like you is only fit to associate with cleaners.” As she spoke, she fanned the air around her and squeezed past us, swaying her hips. Could I hit her? Just as I couldn’t resist the urge to step forward and pull her hair, Mrs. Jenkins grabbed my hand and shook her head. Knowing she didn’t want me to cause trouble, I sighed, picked up the grapes, and decided to ignore that woman. “Come over to your great-aunt’s house for dinner after work today. Your cousin is back; I’ll have him pick you up,” Mrs. Jenkins whispered, patting my head. That’s right. The company’s cleaning lady was my great-aunt. She was used to working hard when she was younger and couldn’t stand being idle. So, she found a cleaning job in our family’s office building. Not for the paycheck, but just to have something to do. Actually, the office building next door also belonged to our family, but because people there recognized her, she didn’t work there and applied to this company instead. I chose this company specifically because she worked here. I nodded to show I understood. That afternoon, Chloe was either demanding we open the windows for ventilation or fanning herself, complaining that the office smelled like a dumpster. I just pretended I couldn’t hear her and ignored her. But I didn’t expect that the colleagues who were usually oppressed by her—and too afraid to fight back—would turn their frustration toward me. Some started slamming their mice impatiently. Others echoed Chloe: “Yeah, aren’t you afraid of getting sick eating grapes from the trash?” “Exactly. That kind of stuff should be thrown away.” Chloe smiled smugly. “Someone like her could never bear to throw anything away.” Normally, their relationship with my great-aunt wasn’t bad, but faced with Chloe’s targeted attacks, they became bitter and mean. I gritted my teeth and put the grapes in my drawer. When it was time to leave, my colleagues didn’t even want to share an elevator with me. Having the whole elevator to myself, I didn’t care at all. I just felt the air in the elevator was much fresher than in the office. Downstairs, I immediately spotted Liam’s Jaguar. He seemed to see me too and stepped out of the car. Just as I was about to walk over, I heard rushed footsteps behind me, followed by a hard bump against my shoulder. Chloe dashed past me, the impact not slowing her down at all. Her target was Liam. I raised an eyebrow and slowed my pace. “Liam! When did you get back?!” She smiled brightly, tilting her head up to look at him with a picture-perfect expression of serene adoration. The sight of the handsome guy and the pretty girl was actually quite pleasant. “Just got back.” Liam frowned slightly, offering a curt three-word reply. “Oh! It’s been so long. Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” She seemed completely oblivious to the rejection radiating from Liam, her smile remaining sweet as she took a step closer. “No, I’m here to pick up Mia.” His gaze bypassed Chloe and landed on me, carrying a hint of reproach. I chuckled inwardly. So Chloe had a crush on him. Ignoring Chloe’s resentful glare, I opened the passenger door and got in. Liam gave a distant “Excuse me,” got in the car, and drove us away. “You guys know each other?” I asked, amused, looking at my cousin who was driving with a wooden expression. He seemed to search his memory before replying, “She confessed to me before I went abroad.” My cousin is only two months older than me. He was the campus heartthrob at our university. Half a year ago, for some reason, he decided to do a study abroad program, and now he was back. We had always been close, and he looked out for me in college. But to avoid disrupting my peaceful college life, we never publicly disclosed our relationship. It was obvious he didn’t have a good impression of Chloe. His lips were pressed into a tight line, and a slight crease formed between his brows. I pursed my lips and didn’t ask any more questions about Chloe, instead asking him about his time abroad. The next day at work, the way my colleagues looked at me was a bit strange. Jessica even covertly tugged at my shirt and asked, “Was the guy who picked you up yesterday your boyfriend?” I shook my head. “That’s my…” “Don’t be ridiculous. How could Liam like her? Is Mia even in his league?” Chloe spoke up before me, her tone full of disdain but her eyes screaming jealousy. I was speechless. It’s true he wasn’t my boyfriend, but it definitely wasn’t because I wasn’t “in his league.” “Oh, really? If I’m not in his league, who is? You?” I finally couldn’t hold back my anger and let out a sarcastic laugh. To my surprise, the woman rolled her eyes at me. “I’m certainly a better match than you. Do you know what Liam’s family does? Do you know that one of his outfits costs more than your entire four years of college tuition? Do you think a family like his would ever accept someone with your background? I’m different. My uncle is the General Manager here. Any random purse I own costs more than everything you’re wearing combined, multiplied by ten. Who do you think is a better match for him?” Looking at her, decked out like a walking billboard for designer logos, I just found her ridiculous. “Right, you’re a perfect match. It’s just a shame you can’t even get a ride in his car.” “You… who knows what dirty tricks you used to get into Liam’s car. Girls should have some self-respect. Aren’t you afraid of being dumped and humiliated after scheming your way into a man’s car?” Chloe gritted her teeth, her voice carrying across the room. The entire office heard her little speech. As a result, the looks my colleagues gave me were tinged with contempt. I took a deep breath, suppressing the fury in my heart and the urge to shove her head into the trash can. Finally, I let out a cold laugh, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear: “Do you know why the monk Fo Yin saw Buddha when he looked at Su Dongpo, but Su Dongpo saw a pile of dung when he looked at Fo Yin?” Chloe froze, not understanding the reference at all. However, a few other colleagues almost burst out laughing. I ignored her and went back to work. About ten minutes later, I heard someone yelling from the direction of the restroom: “Mia, you are dead meat!” Looks like… she finally figured it out. 4 That evening as we were getting off work, Chloe suddenly stood up and announced she was treating everyone to dinner. Everyone had to go; refusing meant disrespecting her. A few female colleagues with children had to pick them up after work. Being suddenly told they had to go to dinner put them in a difficult position, their faces showing their stress. I didn’t want to go anyway, so I spoke up before they could. “I’m not going. I have plans.” “Mia, you’re already anti-social enough at work. I’m giving you a chance to bond with everyone, and you’re refusing? Are you just unwilling to hang out with us? What, you’re poor but still a snob?” I honestly didn’t know how she concluded I was poor, or why she kept emphasizing it. I figured any girl with an average income, if told she was poor often enough, would probably start believing it herself. “I’m not going because I have plans. What does that have to do with being a snob?” I frowned, already very annoyed. “Are you the only one with plans? Look at Sarah and the others, they have kids at home. Did they make excuses?” Chloe’s self-righteous attitude was truly obnoxious. “Yeah, Mia, you’re being too aloof. If those of us with kids can make it, why can’t you?” Sarah chimed in, trying to persuade me. I had only spoken up because I saw they were uncomfortable refusing. Since they were now acting like they genuinely wanted to go, I didn’t have any strong objections. The place Chloe took us to was an upscale restaurant near the office, the kind that costs hundreds of dollars per person. For regular employees at our company, it was definitely a place they’d be reluctant to spend their own money on. Let alone the fact that we were seated directly in a private dining room. Everyone bent over backward praising Chloe, saying how it truly showed she was wealthy to eat at a place like this. “She’s not just regular wealthy. Do you guys know this restaurant? Normal people can’t even get a private room; you have to be a VIP. And to become a VIP here, you have to load at least ten thousand dollars onto a membership card upfront.” Sarah’s eyes sparkled as she looked around, reading aloud the information she had just Googled about the restaurant. Instantly, the admiration for Chloe in the room skyrocketed. Chloe’s smile was exceptionally radiant. “It’s just a VIP card, it’s not that big of a deal.” As if she truly didn’t care about the ten thousand dollars. I sat in the corner, not saying a word, just hoping we’d finish eating soon so I could go home and rest. The waiter came in to take our order. Chloe casually ordered a few dishes, then passed the menu to the person next to her, telling everyone to order whatever they liked. They looked at the menu and, seeing the prices, were hesitant to order anything. Finally, a few of the male colleagues stepped up and ordered two dishes. Chloe eventually placed the menu in my hands. “Mia, don’t say I didn’t treat you right. Order whatever you want. After all, this might be the only time in your life you’ll ever eat at a place like this.” I took the menu but didn’t open it. I just looked up at the waiter and said, “I’ll have the hot and sour shredded potatoes. Hold the vinegar.” Everyone in the room froze, their eyes even carrying a hint of mockery. Chloe burst out laughing. “Mia, do you think this is some cheap takeout joint? We don’t have something as low-class as hot and sour shredded potatoes on this menu.” I shrugged. “If that’s the case, never mind. I’m good.” She sneered and flipped open the drink menu. “What do you want to drink?” Everyone knew the drinks here were expensive, so they declined, saying whatever she ordered was fine. Chloe raised an eyebrow triumphantly and shot another malicious look my way. “Mia, since you couldn’t find anything to eat earlier, why don’t you pick the drinks?” “I’ll just take a Budweiser,” I said without batting an eye, not even reaching for the drink menu she held out. This time, my colleagues finally couldn’t hold back their laughter. The one laughing the loudest was, naturally, Chloe. She clutched her stomach, practically bent over. “Mia, you’ve never been to a high-end restaurant, so you probably don’t know. Places like this don’t sell Budweiser. Forget it, you wouldn’t know what to order anyway. I’ll do it.” I didn’t care at all. “Is that so? Well, thank you for showing me the world.” The waiter glanced at me but said nothing. After taking Chloe’s drink order, he left the room. The food came out quickly here, and soon the waiters were filling the table with delicacies. My colleagues kept marveling at how different the food at high-end restaurants was, snapping photos non-stop. Even the male colleagues couldn’t resist pulling out their phones. I was the only one not doing anything. Until a waiter walked in holding a plate of hot and sour shredded potatoes and a bottle of Budweiser, respectfully placing them right in front of me. Everyone was stunned. The room fell completely silent. I could even hear someone gasp. “This… we didn’t order this,” Chloe said in a panic. She hadn’t seen these items on the food or drink menus! “This is complimentary from the house for this lady,” the waiter replied, looking up with a professional smile. Without waiting for Chloe’s reaction, he turned and left the room. I sighed inwardly. It seemed I had been recognized. This restaurant belonged to my uncle, and my family often had gatherings here. I thought keeping a low profile would keep me unrecognized, but the waiter had a sharp eye. Because of these two items, an eerie silence settled over the room, the atmosphere incredibly awkward. I was the only one casually eating my hot and sour shredded potatoes. “Mia, you… what’s your relationship with this restaurant?” Sarah cleared her throat, asking on behalf of everyone. I swallowed my food and took a slow sip of the ice-cold Budweiser. It was refreshing. “I don’t have any relationship with this restaurant.” I just have a relationship with the owner. Then, I smiled brightly at Chloe. “I really thought they didn’t have shredded potatoes and Budweiser here, but it turns out they do!” Chloe’s face visibly darkened, and eventually, she could only force an awkward laugh and invite everyone to eat. I smiled and didn’t continue the topic, instead quietly eating my food. At the table, everyone was still very enthusiastic toward Chloe, but their attitude toward me had noticeably softened. This made Chloe’s expression increasingly sour; she barely made it to the end of the dinner. Leaving the restaurant, Chloe maintained a polite smile, but her initial smugness was gone. Some colleagues called designated drivers, others hailed Ubers. I looked around, spotted a public bike, and prepared to ride it back, since I lived close by. As I pushed the bike in front of everyone to say goodbye. I clearly saw Chloe’s eyes light up. “Mia, you… you’re riding a public bike home?” She purposefully raised her voice, acting like she had just witnessed something scandalous. “Can you really not even afford an Uber?” I nodded. “I live close by; there’s no need for an Uber.” “Close by? Mia, if you’re going to lie, shouldn’t you at least do some research first? This isn’t the slums. How could you possibly afford to live around here?” At this, my colleagues all looked at me, their eyes clearly agreeing with Chloe. “Actually, there are some residential areas nearby. Maybe Mia really does live close,” Jessica chimed in, probably feeling awkward for me and speaking up in my defense for once. “Ha, the residential areas nearby? Jessica, you’re as poor as Mia, so you probably don’t know, but do you have any idea how expensive the housing is around here? It’s not a place someone who rides a public bike can afford.” Chloe sneered dismissively and casually unlocked her BMW. “Does anyone need a ride?” Immediately, a few of the younger girls behind her raised their hands. “That would be great, thank you, Chloe. You’re the best.” As the BMW drove away, I clearly saw the contemptuous look Chloe shot me through the window. I was speechless that one sentence from me could elicit such disgust from her. “Mia, are you… are you really going to ride that bike home? It’ll take forever, won’t it?” Jessica looked at me with concern. “Why don’t we split an Uber?” “No thanks, I really don’t live far. I don’t need a ride.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “413031”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My boyfriend called me to break up. I froze for a second, then replied: “Wait, haven’t we always just been friends?” The other end went silent for a heartbeat before exploding: “The Queen is savage!” “Boss, you’ve been simping for her for years and you still haven’t closed the deal?” Leo Blackwood cleared his throat on the line: “Excuse me, everyone. I need to handle a private family matter.” 01 Leo hit the words “private family matter” with heavy emphasis. He was definitely pissed. I hung up before he could say another word and shut off my phone. I spent the rest of the day in class, heart racing. The old professor called on me to answer a question, and for once, I answered with total seriousness. No jokes, no sarcasm. The professor pushed up his reading glasses. “Riley Brooks? Have you been possessed by a studious ghost?” I gave a sheepish grin. “Not at all, Professor. This is my New Year, New Me era. Quiet and studious.” The classroom erupted in laughter, breaking the stuffy atmosphere. The professor nodded. “Okay, there she is. That’s the Riley we know.” After evening classes, I kept my head down and bolted toward the dorms. Suddenly, my roommates caught up to me, nudging me with their shoulders. “Whoa, look at that Porsche Cayenne at the gate. That looks like serious money.” “I don’t know cars, but the guy standing in front of it is a total ten.” I looked up. The silver-haired boy they were gushing about was walking straight toward us. With a sun-drenched smile, he spoke with total confidence: “Hey! Sister-in—I mean, Riley!” My roommates had one talent: they knew when to disappear. They gave me a sharp shove forward and vanished into the crowd. I lost my balance and nearly face-planted into Tyler Hudson’s chest. Tyler looked like he was about to have a panic attack. He closed his eyes and took a frantic half-step back. “You little…” The insult died in the air. Someone had caught me by the waist. When did Leo Blackwood get out of the car? Before I could think, I stood up straight and acted like a perfect angel. Tyler let out a massive breath of relief, patting his chest. “Thank god the Boss’s girl is okay.” I shot him a look. He offered a pleading smile. “Riley, don’t be mad. We were just playing Truth or Dare with the Boss!” I raised an eyebrow. “And?” “The Boss lost. He had to do a dare. The breakup call was my idea. Don’t take it out on him, okay?” Leo’s hand reached out and swatted Tyler’s arm away. “Fine. You can go now.” So, he brought Tyler along just to explain that to me? 02 “Achoo!” The AC in the car was blasting. I sneezed. Leo glanced at me and wordlessly turned the temperature up two degrees. But even with the heat rising, the atmosphere in the car was ice-cold. After a long silence, he finally spoke. His voice was deep and low. “What did you mean by ‘haven’t we always just been friends’?” Ah, that. “No, look, I can explain… or make something up…” “Riley Brooks, don’t forget. We are literally married.” I deflated, adjusted the seat to its most comfortable setting, kicked off my shoes, and curled up. “You were the one who said ‘break up’ first…” I muttered in protest. Leo’s hand on the steering wheel tightened for a split second. He tossed a small blanket onto my lap. “Fine. We aren’t saying that word again.” He paused. “And don’t sit like that in other people’s cars.” Like what? I looked down. Oh, right. I was wearing a short skirt today. I quickly pulled the blanket over me. “Did you see anything?” I hissed. “No.” “What color?” “White…” Hah. I knew it. He saw it and wouldn’t admit it. Blushing, I stole a glance at Leo. He had a high bridge to his nose, a sharp jawline, and a perfectly defined Cupid’s bow. The setting sun hit his face through the window, softening his features. His profile was stunning. I noticed the tips of his ears were turning a faint shade of pink. I whipped out my phone. Snap! Leo’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “What are you doing?” “You look good! I’m admiring my composition,” I said. “This photo could sell for a lot. Your fans would go feral for it.” Leo let out a frustrated laugh. “What, the money I give you isn’t enough?” It was enough. More than enough. Being Leo Blackwood’s secret wife in exchange for a $50,000 monthly allowance was the best deal I’d ever made. 03 Leo was the highest-ranked pro gamer in the country. His hands were steady as a rock, especially when he drove. Usually, I fell asleep the second I got into his car. But maybe because I’d been staring at his photo for too long, I fell into a strange dream. In the dream, my fingers were tracing his brow, his nose, his lips… And just as things were getting heated, I leaned in to kiss him. “Mmph!” I snapped my eyes open to see Leo’s face hovering inches from mine, his skin flushed. This was not a dream! “Breathe,” he whispered. I finally found some oxygen. Leo let out a soft chuckle. “Fix yourself up. We’re here.” I looked in the mirror. My eyes were watery, and my lips were swollen and red. I took several deep breaths, cursing him in my head. Leo Blackwood, you predator! I looked out the window. It was the private bistro I’d mentioned I liked. Leo was a regular here. The owner greeted him with a knowing smile. But today, the owner seemed a bit too enthusiastic—until he saw me standing behind Leo. The owner’s expression faltered. He rubbed his hands together awkwardly. Then I saw Sienna Montgomery sitting by the window. I understood the owner’s awkwardness. Sienna Montgomery. The youngest Oscar winner in history. And Leo Blackwood’s “White Moonlight” ex-girlfriend. “What a coincidence,” Sienna said, smiling. She really was a movie star. Even without makeup, she was breathtaking. Leo froze for a few seconds, then gave a curt nod. He reached back and pulled me from behind him to his side. Gee, thanks, Leo! Sienna saw me, and a flicker of genuine surprise crossed her face before she masked it with a smile. “I didn’t know you liked this place too.” Is it too late to say I hate it now? Sienna bit her lip, her eyes shimmering with a faint redness as she gazed longingly at Leo. A classic case of the exes meeting again. Since the place was a private kitchen and everyone was a regular, Sienna suggested we eat together. She sat across from Leo, and the two of them started making small talk about their lives. “Congratulations on the new club. I heard it’s the top in the country.” “Thanks.” “Leo, I’m planning to move back to the States permanently to focus on my career here…” I was losing my appetite being the third wheel. You guys talk; I’ll just eat. I looked out the window, thinking that I probably wouldn’t be able to stay by Leo’s side much longer. The waiter came over. “Ice in your drinks, or room temp?” Leo and Sienna said “Room temp” at the exact same time. I was the lone voice shouting, “Ice!” Sienna gave a coy smile. “I’m surprised you still remember…” Leo wordlessly swapped my iced soda for a warm water. He looked at me intently. “You know you shouldn’t have ice for the next two days.” Faced with his sudden concern, I instinctively glanced at Sienna. Her coy smile hadn’t even faded yet, but her fingers were gripping her glass so hard her knuckles were white. “Hiccup.” The tension was so thick I literally started to hiccup. 04 Love is like a hiccup; you can’t hide it. Apparently, awkwardness works the same way. By my tenth hiccup, Leo finally lost it and laughed out loud. I glared at him, chugging water and stuffing my face with food, but it wouldn’t stop. Help. Why am I hiccupping in front of my romantic rival? Watching Sienna sit there so elegantly across from us, I wanted to cry. Leo gave me a fond look and patted my back. He took the water glass out of my hand. “That won’t work. I have a trick. Want to try it?” I nodded like a bobblehead, still hiccupping. “Look over there!” Huh? I followed his finger. In the next second, his large hand cupped the back of my head, and he pressed his lips hard against mine! “You… you… what are you doing?” My face exploded in heat. I scrambled to push him away. He looked unsatisfied, licking his lower lip. “What? The hiccups are gone, but you’ve developed a stutter?” I stammered for a full minute, unable to form a sentence. Clatter. The glass in Sienna’s hand hit the floor. Her eyes were red, and her voice trembled. “Sorry. It slipped.” She stood up and walked toward the restroom, trying to look strong but failing. I stole a look at Leo. He didn’t even flinch; he just went back to eating. Something was off. Did he just kiss me to spite Sienna? Is this composure all an act? A facade? I didn’t want to eat anymore. Sienna came back, looking like a wilted flower. It was obvious she’d been crying. Truly a sight to behold. I pulled out my phone and opened a ride-share app. “Uh, I’ll just Uber back to campus. Leo, why don’t you drive her home?” Leo snatched the phone out of my hand and threw an arm around my shoulder, leading me out. “Ms. Montgomery doesn’t need my help getting home. I’m driving you.” 05 Back in the car, I started fuming. “Little brother, what is wrong with you? I gave you an opening and you didn’t take it!” Leo glanced at me, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. His voice was lazy. “Whether I take an opening or not… you’ll have to wait and see.” !!! I froze. Since when did the straight-laced Leo Blackwood start talking dirty? I scoffed instinctively. “All talk and no game. Who knows?” Leo heard the sarcasm and laughed. He suddenly pulled a sharp U-turn. The GPS voice rang out: “Recalculating. You have left the planned route.” I watched the red dot on the map get further and further from my school. I whispered, “Where are we going?” “Home.” “Is… isn’t that a bit much?” My big mouth. Why can’t I stop the “all-talk” habit? The night wind was cool. I looked at Leo’s long, elegant fingers on the wheel and remembered how we ended up married. All because of my big mouth. Our families were old friends, but he was six years older than me. Because he was gorgeous, I’d been following him around since I was a toddler. I loved photography, and Leo’s first viral photo was one I took. Back then, Leo was a rising star in the gaming world, and Sienna was just an unknown tournament host. Handsome guy, beautiful girl—it wasn’t a surprise when they got together. Even when I took photos of them together and thought they looked perfect… it still hurt a little. Sienna, being career-driven, refused to go public. After they started dating, Leo’s performance tanked. He choked in several major tournaments. Meanwhile, Sienna’s career skyrocketed after a director saw her hosting. One was falling; the other was climbing. Arguments were inevitable. After Sienna went abroad, Leo was a wreck. I created dozens of burner accounts to leave him supportive comments. I promoted him on every platform I could find. 06 The truth was, I’d chased Leo for years with zero results. But my pride was a monster. I told everyone who would listen that Leo had been “simping” for me for years and I just hadn’t said yes. No one believed me—except my mom and his mom. “You brat! Leo’s been doing so poorly lately, and it was because of you?” Me: … When our parents confronted Leo, his secret relationship with Sienna had just been leaked, and he was drowning in scandal. Leo pulled me into his arms in front of the reporters and said: “I’ve been chasing this girl for years. Today, I finally got my wish.” “Marry me,” I heard him say. Is there any PR move more powerful than getting married to silence a scandal? I couldn’t think of one. Engaged in the morning, married by the afternoon. When I held the marriage certificate, it felt like it was burning my hands. On our wedding night, I peeked at him guiltily. “So… I can explain…” “I’m sorry.” Before I could find the words, Leo apologized first. “I’m sorry for using you.” Looking at his depressed face, my heart felt like it had been stabbed. Years of built-up courage vanished like a popped balloon. I swallowed my confession and slapped him on the shoulder like a “bro.” “No big deal! Just win the championship and pay me a $50k monthly allowance!” Leo actually smiled. “50k? You trying to rob me?” “Hey, I’m giving up my first marriage for this! Don’t be a cheapskate.” “You’re that sure I’ll win the championship?” “Obviously!” Because you’re Leo Blackwood. He ruffled my hair. “Fine. I’ll bring home the trophy for you.” After the wedding, Leo became a different person. He worked like a man possessed. He lived at the club and almost never came home. Late at night, I’d wonder: is he avoiding the house because of me? So, I moved into the dorms with my roommates. 07 The following year, Leo actually won the World Championship. He ran toward me with the trophy, and we both sobbed. I didn’t want to know why he was crying; I was just “crying” because of the $50k that was about to start hitting my bank account. After the tournament, Leo founded his own elite club. I went from being his personal photographer to the team photographer. Through the lens, I could watch him openly. I captured his frustration, his competitive fire, and the empty exhaustion that followed a win. I recorded every major moment of his life. Sadly, I was never in the frame. Aside from that one public proposal, Leo never introduced me to anyone. When people asked, he’d say: “A friend.” “The girl next door.” “Just a kid who likes cameras.” At least he didn’t hide me. Because I took photos of the players, I got along well with the younger guys at the club. Leo hadn’t been seen with another woman for years. On holidays, I’d wait at the club to drive home with him. The players assumed we were dating and started calling me “Sister-in-law.” I secretly loved it. Even better, Leo never corrected them. Driving home for the holidays, I was humming a tune, feeling great. “What are you so happy about?” I reached over to straighten his collar and smiled. “Nothing. Just a tiny, tiny thing not worth mentioning.” My happiness didn’t even last through one red light. Leo’s phone rang. Contact: Sienna Montgomery. Leo saw the name and slammed on the brakes. I never wore my seatbelt, and I smacked my head on the dash. “Does it hurt?” Leo’s eyes were full of guilt. “It doesn’t! Not at all!” Leo laughed. “Then why are you crying?” I realized I was actually sobbing. To prove it didn’t hurt, I started laughing. Crying and laughing at the same time—Leo thought I had a concussion and rushed me to the hospital. But I couldn’t explain. I couldn’t say, Leo, my head is fine. It’s my heart. That would be too embarrassing. I’d rather he think I was an idiot than know I was heartbroken. 08 That was the first New Year we spent at home as a “married couple.” There weren’t enough rooms, so we were forced to share a bed. While Leo was showering, his phone lit up. My heart dropped as I looked at the screen. “Leo, I miss you…” That night, Leo spent a long time on the balcony on the phone. When he came back, he smelled of the cold night air and a faint hint of cigarettes. It wasn’t a bad smell. The bed dipped, and Leo pulled me into his arms. Brrr, so cold. Damn you, Leo. Using me as a human heater. But the warmth grew. There’s nothing better than a bed in winter. I snuggled into his chest, finding a comfortable spot. In a daze, I asked him: “Leo, do you know who I am?” He was stunned by the question. “I know.” “Then who am I?” “Riley Brooks.” Hearing my name, I felt a sense of peace. “Leo?” “Yeah.” “If you ever want a divorce… just tell me. I’ll handle the parents.” A long time passed. I was drifting off when Leo said something. I didn’t hear it. I didn’t want to. A warm touch on my forehead woke me. Leo was looking at me with concern. “Nightmare? Your brow is furrowed.” I didn’t want to answer. I stretched and looked out the window. “Did I fall asleep again?” Leo ruffled my hair. “Yeah. Slept like a little pig.” Our marital home was still “new.” The wedding decorations were still up, but the house felt empty. A maid came to clean regularly, so it wasn’t dirty, but it didn’t feel lived in. There were no traces of me there. When we first got married, I had fantasies about “our home.” I went a bit crazy buying things. Matching toothbrushes, matching mugs, matching slippers… I used to wait for him to come home, full of hope. But he didn’t seem to like it. I remember him holding a cartoon toothbrush cup, smiling awkwardly. “You didn’t have to go this far.” I laughed and said: “It’s just in case the parents do a surprise inspection!” 09 After that, Leo stopped coming home. I felt like I was holding a long, grand funeral for my feelings. Every day he didn’t come home, I threw away one of the “couples” items I’d carefully picked out. The day the last item was gone, I moved back to the dorms. The “More than friends, less than lovers” zone was my uncomfortable comfort zone. Now, the room only held Leo’s things and a few of my clothes. He paced around the room like he was looking for something. “Riley.” “Yeah?” Whenever he used my full name, it was never good news. Sure enough, his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What happened here?” “What do you mean?” I played dumb. Leo let out a frustrated laugh and loosened his tie. “Fine, Riley. You’ve grown some teeth.” I pouted. What did he think I was? A bunny that didn’t know how to fight back? Just a girl who blindly loved him? Normally, I wouldn’t dare pull these stunts with him. But today? His “White Moonlight” Sienna was back. The divorce was probably coming anyway. I decided to stop pretending! Leo suddenly pinned me against the wall in the entryway, his eyes darkening. “Wife—” He whispered into my neck: “I just realized… we never actually had our wedding night.” So close! Every hair on my body stood up. I was surrounded by his scent. I felt more lightheaded than if I were drunk. Using my last bit of logic, I pointed out the window. “Look! Oxygen!” While he was distracted, I bolted into the bathroom. Safe. For now. After my shower, I realized I’d celebrated too soon. I hadn’t planned on staying here; I had zero clothes to change into. I knocked on the bathroom door. “Leo?” “Yeah.” “Could you… could you get me one of your long shirts?” “Say ‘please, Big Brother.’” This opportunistic jerk! I clenched and unclenched my fists. But I was at his mercy. “Bi… Big… Big Brother Leo…” God! I hadn’t called him that since I was a kid. I wanted to die of embarrassment. “What? Speak up! Can’t hear you!” “I said, Big Brother Leo~ Riley wants some clothes~” 10 “See? Was that so hard?” Leo handed me a shirt. It was a short one. Even though he was much taller than me, it barely covered my thighs. Since when was Leo Blackwood this inappropriate? Or are all “Jungle” players secretly perverts? Leo was in the living room watching TV. When I walked out, his gaze swept over me. My face went beet red. I ran back to the bedroom, not daring to look at him. I’d been feeling heavy and exhausted lately. When Leo walked into the room, I thought I was dreaming. Wait… that damp touch of hair on my skin… that wasn’t a dream! I sat up, clutching the duvet. “You… why are you in here?” Leo looked at me like I was the crazy one. “This is my house. Why wouldn’t I be in here?” “But you always sleep on the couch, or in the study, or the guest room…” Fine. If you won’t leave, I will. I tried to shuffle toward the door, wrapped in the blanket. Suddenly, Leo scooped me up and tossed me back onto the bed. He pinned me down. Looking at the bridge of his nose, I heard myself say: “Leo, this is going to cost extra.” “Heh. Since when did you become such a gold-digger?” There’s a saying: “I want a lot of love. If I can’t have that, I want a lot of money.” Leo, I really, really love you… I pressed my hand against his lips, looking into his eyes. “Leo, let’s get a divorce.” The smirk on his face faltered. He looked at me suspiciously. “What did you say?” “I said, let’s get a divorce! “Then you can be with Sienna openly. You don’t need to use me to make her jealous. “Don’t be an idiot. Girls need to be winned over. You’re only pushing her away with these games…” 11 Leo brushed the hair back from his forehead, looking agitated. He gave a smile that was actually terrifying. I’d seen that look during his tournaments when his opponents taunted him. I shivered. Anger aside, he reached over and pulled the duvet up higher around me. He asked through gritted teeth: “So you think I’m doing all this just to spite Sienna and get back with her?” I whispered, “Isn’t it obvious? “As soon as she gets back, you take me to that restaurant. “And you’re suddenly… acting like this…” The more I spoke, the more upset I got. Tears started rolling down my face. “Leo, I don’t want to be a pawn in your game with Sienna anymore. Waaaaah!” I don’t know what was wrong with me. I wasn’t usually a crybaby. Leo gritted his teeth. “Riley Brooks, what the hell do you think I am?” Eh? Seeing me sob, he rubbed his temples and let out a long sigh. He handed me a tissue and said gruffly: “Stop crying!” I pouted and nodded, but the tears kept coming. “Don’t pout!” I was gasping for air between sobs. When I opened my mouth to breathe, Leo kissed me. I froze, letting him take whatever he wanted. Suddenly, a sharp cramp hit my stomach. It felt like a drill was going off inside me. I looked down. My period had started. I knew it! No wonder I was exhausted and emotional. It was the period’s fault! I always had terrible cramps. I started sweating and rolling around the bed in pain. Leo forgot his anger. He boiled water, filled a bottle, and wrapped it in a towel to act as a heating pad. After settling me, he threw on his jacket and went out to buy supplies. I was in too much pain to move. Sleep was the only escape. In my sleep, I felt a larger, warmer “heating pad.” I hugged it and fell into a deep slumber. When I woke up, I saw Leo’s beautiful eyes staring straight at me. “Finally awake, little pig?” 12 Crap! I was in too much pain yesterday and didn’t clean up before falling asleep. I threw back the duvet. Thank god. The duvet was fine. There was only a tiny spot on the sheet. But Leo’s shirt was a disaster… Wait! When did I change into these period panties? I hid under the covers in total shame. The more I hid, the more Leo teased me. “Oh, now you’re shy? I used to help you go to the bathroom when you were a toddler!” I threw a pillow at him. “Shut up!” Leo brought over a cup of warm brown sugar water. “Stop being shy. Drink this.” It was sweet and hot. My heart felt warm. “Why are you suddenly being so nice to me?” Leo paused. “Didn’t you say it? Girls need to be winned over.” Then he remembered something and gave me an order. “Don’t ever mention divorce again. You hear me?” What… what did that mean? Terrified of overthinking it, I didn’t ask. Sometimes, not knowing the answer is better than the truth. As a junior in college, I didn’t have many classes left—mostly just internships. My professor had a star student who worked in the entertainment industry. They were starting a celebrity interview show. The professor recommended me to do the photography and filming. Before I left, the professor warned me: “Riley, I’m only giving this chance to you. Don’t embarrass me!” I gave him a deep bow. “Salute!” The professor rolled his eyes. “Respect!” I stared at him. “Professor, you’re so trendy?” “Enough talk! Get going!” 13 The original interviewee was supposed to be a rising young actor. My roommates even asked for his autograph. But in the middle of the night, he was caught in a massive scandal, and his career imploded. The show had to find a last-minute replacement. When Sienna Montgomery walked in with a smile, the whole crew gasped. “My god! She’s even more beautiful in person!” “And so kind! She agreed to do this on such short notice… what an angel!” the director nudged me. “What are you staring at? Hurry up, we’re starting!” “Oh! Right!” I found my focus. I set up the cameras and gear. The interview began. Since it was last-minute, the questions were standard. When asked why she moved back to the States, Sienna paused. She looked out the window and gave a bittersweet smile. That tiny movement made everyone feel for her. She looked at the camera with eyes full of regret and hope. “For someone.” For a moment, I couldn’t tell if she was talking to Leo through the lens… or to me. During the break, my senior came over to check the footage. He patted my shoulder, impressed. “Good job, Riley! You captured her expressions perfectly!” “Obviously! Look who my teacher was!” That shut him up. Sienna walked over to look at the material. “These are beautiful!” She spoke with such sincerity I felt awkward. “You’re beautiful, Ms. Montgomery. It’s hard to take a bad photo of you.” The awkwardness was broken by an assistant yelling that boba had arrived. “Someone sent treats for everyone!” Everyone teased Sienna, who just stood there smiling silently. As they say, only an idiot passes up free food! I grabbed a cup and heard some people gossiping. “Hey, do you know who sent this?” “Leo Blackwood, the gaming god!” “The guy she was rumored to be with?” “Yep! He’s chasing her already. I smell a reunion!” The boba suddenly tasted like ash. 14 I ran into Sienna in the restroom. She smiled at my reflection in the mirror. “Is the boba good?” Maybe it’s female intuition. Sienna was someone I disliked the moment I saw her. After she moved back, that feeling only intensified. Despite her being perfect in every way, everything she did felt calculated and fake. “It’s okay.” Sienna raised an eyebrow, drying her hands as she looked me over. “You’ve changed a lot, Riley. But—I still prefer the way we were in the past. Leo does too.” “Oh. Well, enjoy your memories. Excuse me.” The interview continued. I cleared my head. After the wrap, my senior invited everyone to dinner. “Ms. Montgomery, would you like to join us?” he asked politely. “Don’t be silly, she’s way too busy for us,” someone joked. “I’d love to,” Sienna replied with a smile. The crew was stunned. Someone patted the senior on the shoulder. “We’re taking an Oscar winner to dinner! You better pick a good spot!” I started packing my gear. “Uh, I have a project due. I’ll head back to the dorms!” Before I could reach the door, my senior grabbed me by the collar. “What project? I’ll call the professor myself. You’re coming!” Thanks a lot, man. The bar was dark and loud. At first, everyone was a bit stiff. Sienna stood up with a glass. “A toast to all of you. Thank you for the hard work today!” She was always so poised. After a few drinks, the staff realized she wasn’t stuck-up and started relaxing. Halfway through, Sienna checked her phone and asked shyly: “Can I bring a friend?” The “friend” who walked in was Leo Blackwood.

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I’ve read countless stories about cheating husbands eventually crawling back, begging for forgiveness. I never thought I’d end up starring in one. Except, my story didn’t have the part where he begs. Just the part where everything burns. Because I actually died. I became a ghost, watching the man who betrayed me. Seven days after I passed, it was like a delayed reaction finally crushed him. Inside the house I could never go back to, he howled and wept, utterly broken. You ask me how that felt? I just stood there, blankly, savoring every inch of agony on his face. I listened intently to his desperate desolation over my departure. Beneath the grim satisfaction and the heartbreak, a massive wave of schadenfreude surged within me. Joyful, ecstatic vindication. It was a sharp, liberating thrill. I covered my mouth to stifled a laugh. 1 After dying, I became entirely certain that Julian had never truly loved me. When the police called him to identify my body at the morgue, he actually thought I was pulling a sick prank with my friends. He thought it was my desperate way of forcing him to talk. Because just minutes before, our final conversation had ended in disaster. I had screamed, I had raged, I had begged on my knees, and I had used the foulest language I knew to curse him. By the end, we were both drained. With bloodshot eyes, I sat on the balcony railing, my legs dangling over the edge. “Are you really going through with this divorce?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. He looked at me calmly. The first time I used suicide to threaten him, he had panicked. Now, his face held nothing but exhaustion. “Are you done with the drama?” he asked. I said quietly, “If you walk out that door today, I’m jumping.” He gave me one long, deep look, turned, and walked away. The front door slammed with a deafening thud, shaking the apartment. Then, I heard the chime of the elevator. I had staged many suicides. The first time was three months after he initially asked for a divorce. It was our third wedding anniversary, which also happened to be his mistress’s birthday. He wouldn’t answer my calls. Finally, I sent him a photo of an empty bottle of sleeping pills and turned off my phone. He rushed back, looking frantic and disheveled. When he pushed the door open, I was sitting at the dining table in the dark. A lavish feast was laid out, a huge bouquet of roses between two flickering candles. I smiled at him across the table. “Happy anniversary, Julian.” He was livid. He screamed that I was insane. He grabbed my arm, dragged me into the bathroom, and pinned me down, brutally ramming a toothbrush down my throat to make me purge. I huddled over the sink, retching, while he kept cursing at me. “Where are the pills? How many did you take?” I was a mess, but I started laughing. My voice was raw and raspy. “I lied,” I told him, looking up through my hair. “I didn’t take anything.” I grabbed his sleeve, gripping it tightly. “Happy anniversary. I bought you a gift. Don’t you want to see what it is?” He looked down at me, his expression unreadable. Finally, looking utterly depleted, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t love you anymore, Sarah. Can’t we just let each other go?” Why should it be that easy? We met in college. Fell in love. A seven-year romantic marathon, followed by three years of marriage. All my youth, all my love, was invested in this man. Now he tells me to “let go”? Over my dead body. I was going to waste his life. I wanted that woman on the outside to remain a mistress, illegitimate and shameful, for the rest of her life. So I looked at him tenderly and said the cruelest thing I could think of. “Let you go? In your dreams.” He stared at me, unblinking. After that night, I could never track him down again. 2 Calls and texts went unanswered, lost in a sea of silence. I talked to his subordinates, but they were a brick wall, smooth and impenetrable. I even went to his office. The receptionist looked at me with an awkward, sympathetic expression, blocking my path. “Mr. Hayes isn’t in,” she said. I really wanted to force my way in. But I didn’t want to make a scene. I had some dignity left. So, I forced a smile, pretending to be unbothered. “When he gets back, just let him know I stopped by.” She relaxed visibly, looking relieved, though she couldn’t hide the pity in her eyes. “Of course, Mrs. Hayes. Will do.” I pretended not to see his silhouette behind the glass wall of his corner office. That night, I went home and drank a bottle of bourbon. I sipped it slowly, sitting on the balcony, watching the sunset bleed orange across the skyline. My mind drifted back to college. We were lab partners junior year. My grades were good, but I was failing statistics. Our advisor suggested he tutor me. I don’t remember much about junior year, except for that humid summer. The slow whir of the ceiling fans in the library. The smelling of old books. And Julian’s fingers, constantly spinning a black pen. I remember late-night study sessions, him leaning in slightly, his warm breath fanning my cheek. His hand, with its defined knuckles, pressed down on the textbook. His voice was low, creating a tender illusion. “Which problem are you stuck on now?” It was an innocent, naive fluttering of the heart, drowned out by months of studying for exams. Actually, Julian and I started dating senior year. Getting into the same law school gave us a sense of camaraderie. He took care of me. During orientation week, I joined the Student Bar Association. The chair of the social committee was always being inappropriate with me, touching me, getting in my space. One night, after a bar crawl, I wanted to go back to my dorm. He insisted on walking me. In a dark alleyway off campus, he suddenly pinned me against a brick wall, pinning my shoulders with his hands. He was slurring, rambling about how I had to be his girlfriend, trying to force a kiss on me. I panicked, screaming for help. The next second, he was ripped off me. Julian was there, swinging his gym bag. He beat the guy up badly. He didn’t seem to care if he killed him. Every punch was vicious. I tried to pull him off, screaming his name, but it was useless. Finally, standing behind him, frantic and not knowing what else to do, I yelled, “Julian, stop! I’m going to cry!” His eyes were red, but he stopped. He turned to look at me, his handsome face tense with lingering rage. The moment he saw me, his expression softened instantly. “Don’t cry,” he cooed. He stood up, walked over, and clumsily used the jacket from his bag to wipe the tears from my face. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. He looked at me, looking a little frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry. I just… I’ve had a crush on you for so long, and I never dared to touch you. Now this total asshole tries to force himself on you… Did I scare you? I’m sorry.” He looked down at me, his gaze earnest, his expression tender. “I didn’t want to scare you. I wanted to wait until the time was right. Sarah, I like you. Do you like me?” The memories were so vivid, like they happened yesterday. The young man who had nervously asked me that question had turned into a stranger. Now, he only said things like: “Are you done annoying me? Can you just not, for five minutes?” “Stop calling me.” “I’m not at the office, stop looking for me.” “Please, let’s just end this cleanly. Let me go, okay?” Tears streamed down my face. I finished the bottle of bourbon. This was my second suicide attempt. 3 I woke up in the hospital. My best friend, Chloe, was by my bedside, watching the IV drip. When she saw me open my eyes, she burst into tears, hitting my shoulder, asking me why I did something so stupid. I had just had my stomach pumped. I was incredibly weak, and my throat was too raw to make a sound. I scanned the room. Then I turned my head, stubbornly looking at Chloe, silently asking with my eyes. Where is he? She understood. She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She grabbed my hand, sobbing like a child, trying to comfort me. “Sarah, honey, can we just not force this? I called Julian. He didn’t come. Don’t you get it yet? Forget him. He’s not worth your life…” I closed my eyes. A single tear slid down my cheek. Julian hated being threatened. Senior year of college, we had been together for three years. There was a girl who really liked him, but he always coldly rejected her. Finally, her roommate told Julian that if he didn’t go see her, she was going to cut her wrists. Julian was with me at the movies. I still remember his expression when he got the call. He let out a cold laugh. “If she wants to cut her wrists, tell her to hurry up. Otherwise, if I go today, she won’t do it. But tomorrow, if I don’t go, she’ll threaten it again. Do I look like a charity?” He was holding my ice cream cone when he said that. It was winter, but I really wanted ice cream. He was worried I’d get too cold, but he couldn’t bear to say no. So he compromised: he bought it, but he insisted on holding it, only letting me have a few licks before pulling it away. It was strange. Cruelty and tenderness existed within him, side by side, without contradiction. Back then, I couldn’t let it go. I dragged him to the hospital to see that girl. He stood at the door of her room, frowning, looking annoyed. “I’m going to say this one last time,” he told her. “I love my girlfriend very much. Suicide threats don’t work on me. You can slice yourself into stir-fry for all I care. Don’t manipulate me with guilt, and don’t manipulate the people around me.” I was afraid my presence would upset her, so I stayed by the door. Through the window, I saw her lying in bed, tears streaming down her face as she listened to him. At the time, I was confused. Why would a woman want to die just because a man doesn’t love her? I didn’t understand. I always believed a woman should be an independent entity, with independent thoughts, not relying on someone else’s affection to exist. Why commit suicide over a man who doesn’t love you? Life is the most important thing. You should be resilient and dignified. Besides a man, you have family and friends who love you. You shouldn’t toy with your life. I told myself I would never do such a thing. But you don’t know how bad it hurts until the knife cuts your own skin. Many years later, that boomerang hit me. I became the woman using suicide to threaten Julian. And his attitude toward that threat hadn’t changed at all in all those years. 4 Honestly, I don’t know how Julian and I became what we are now. Before he confessed about the mistress, I hadn’t doubted him for a single second. We had too many years of history. I trusted him completely. I never checked his phones, his social media. When he traveled for work, came home late, or had business dinners, I never questioned him. Even when he first told me he had someone else and wanted a divorce, I thought something was wrong with him. Was he sick? Terminal cancer? Was the company bankrupt? IRS trouble? Had he broken the law? I spent two months systematically ruling things out. Only then did I have to accept the truth: he was just a regular guy who cheated. A guy who simply didn’t love me anymore. He just… wanted to leave me. After we initially confessed our feelings in college, he still pursued me for a long time. Even though we both knew I would say yes, when he finally formally asked me out, his voice was shaking. I rarely saw him anxious. But that young man, standing in front of me, trying so hard to be cool while asking me to be his girlfriend, his hands sweating with nerves—that Julian was the perfect image of love in my mind. When I blushed, smiled, and nodded, he lunged forward to hug me. He was so excited he was babbling. “This is great, Sarah. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this day.” He said it was love at first sight. He had waited three years to finally be with me. Back then, we were just broke students. He spent half his monthly allowance treating my entire dorm to dinner to celebrate. At the table, he draped his arm over the back of my chair, looking at me with total adoration, smiling non-stop. Finally, he solemnly asked my roommates to look out for me, because I was clumsy and he worried when he wasn’t around. My roommates giggled and agreed, their eyes full of envy and blessings. Everyone said we were a match made in heaven. We had walked together for so long. Now he tells me he loves someone else and wants a divorce. How could I be resilient? How could I be dignified? Using my life to threaten a man who doesn’t love me only makes him disgusted, but I had no other options. I was in absolute agony. I couldn’t sleep, day or night. I kept wondering what went wrong. I wasn’t ugly, I was educated, my body hadn’t fallen apart over the years. Men at the office still hit on me. I became mentally drained, weeping without realizing it. Julian and I had one calm conversation. I remember sitting at the dining table, trying my best to look composed. I had spent countless days and nights psyching myself up to say these words. “I don’t blame you, Julian,” I said. “I forgive you.” He just looked at me coldly. Very, very coldly. “Don’t you get it yet, Sarah? I don’t need your forgiveness. I love someone else. I want to take responsibility. The reason I’m telling you this is because I want a divorce so I can marry her. Whether you forgive me or not means absolutely nothing. Let’s divorce.” I screamed. I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and hurled it at him. I rarely lost control like that. My upbringing was strict; I was taught to be a lady, demure and polite. Since I was a child, the compliment I heard most was how sweet and gentle I was. But when a heart is cut over and over again with a blunt knife, any gentle, polite woman will turn hysterical and hideous. Julian would never understand why I was so crazy. In his mind, I had nothing to lose in the divorce. He readily admitted he was the at-fault party. He was giving me everything: the house, the cars, all the marital assets, except for his own newly formed company. We didn’t have kids. In his mind, he felt bad, but he had compensated me financially. It was a massive fortune. So why couldn’t I just be a good girl and let him go? Why did I have to cling on like this? I didn’t know either. Maybe because thirteen years is too long. From high school to now. He occupied over half my life. Our love was fused into every inch of my being, like a seed planted in my veins, rooted deep. Thirteen years—any seed would grow into a massive tree. I couldn’t just walk away smiling like everyone advised me to. That would require me to rip out those roots and branches, bit by bit, from my own body. But it was part of me now. Ripping it out would kill me. In the dark of night, I curled up in bed, hugging myself tightly. The pain was unbearable. Chloe tried to convince me to let go. She said Julian was a man who chased emotional highs. A hedonist. He had been with me for over a decade—for a man like him, that was his limit. He followed his desires. He wasn’t producing dopamine for our love anymore. He was bored. 5 But I couldn’t let go. This divorce drama dragged on so long that everyone around us was exhausted. Julian’s patience finally ran out. We were like two wild beasts tearing at each other, ripping all our beautiful memories to shreds. Even Chloe sighed, “How did you guys end up like this?” We were like bitter enemies with a blood feud. As if we had never shared a bed, never held each other close, never loved each other deeply and truly. We left no room for dignity. But now, I was really tired. Congratulations, Julian. You finally got your wish. Listening to the sound of the elevator doors closing outside, I planned my third and final suicide. I sat on the balcony, humming a tune to myself. “Goodbye to yesterday’s love, maybe I shouldn’t have cared so much. Now there’s no more obsession left in me. Fate has its own plans, why try to settle the score…” Then I closed my eyes and, with a smile, stepped off. Like I said, I timed it. By the time Julian walked out of the elevator, I should land right in front of him. From the 28th floor, my body would shatter, blood spattering everywhere. It would be a horrific death. A sight that would haunt a person for a lifetime. Before I fell, I kept my eyes locked stubbornly on the building entrance. Finally, I saw Julian walk out. His face was a mask of shock and terror. He froze, looking at me. His first instinct was to run over and try to catch me, but how could he? I held a tiny smile, gentle as I used to be, right until I hit the pavement with a sickening crash. Through the excruciating pain, I died with my eyes wide open, smiling fixedly at him. I wanted him to never forget me. I wanted him to be plagued by his conscience for the rest of his life. I wanted him to live with the overwhelming guilt of what he did to me. I wanted him to never, ever know a day of peace or happiness for the rest of his life. He destroyed me. So I destroyed him. Before Julian and I fell apart, I had done something that crossed a line for him. Before that, he had always maintained a subtle level of guilt toward me. About a month ago, I finally relented. I told Julian I agreed to the divorce. But I had one condition: I wanted to meet the other woman. Julian had protected her well, just like he protected me back in college. From the moment he brought up divorce until our six-month stalemate, I had no idea who she was. I told him I’d agree to the divorce, but I needed to see this girl. I wanted to know what my thirteen years of devotion had lost to. Julian was furious. He thought I was screwing with him. He looked at me in disbelief. “How can you be so manipulative?” He actually thought I was doing it maliciously. Because after meeting her, I changed my mind. By then, I didn’t want to explain anymore. It didn’t matter what he believed. Actually, I had planned to let go. I really had tried to convince myself to walk away. I wanted to end this undignified marriage that had become a laughingstock. I wanted to set myself free, and set him free. I intended to bless them. But when I met that girl, I changed my mind. She was the polar opposite of me. Lively. Very beautiful. When she looked up, her long eyelashes gave her the fragile, timid look of a startled deer. Seeing me, she was visibly nervous, apologizing over and over again, completely flustered. I sent Julian away. Then I leaned back in my chair and told her, “Convince me. You have the whole afternoon. Convince me to agree to the divorce.” Then, she proceeded to meticulously list all the details of her romance with Julian. She was a marketing coordinator at Julian’s new company. They met at a joint company happy hour. Later, they went to an escape room with a group. She was scared, screamed, and ran right into Julian’s arms. For the rest of the game, she didn’t dare leave his side. Finally, getting annoyed by her jumping every two seconds, Julian无奈ly let her hold onto the hem of his jacket until the game ended. Naturally, she offered to treat Julian to dinner to apologize. Over dinner, they discovered they had common interests. After that, they played a video game together online. She was actually good at games, and Julian admired that. Then there were many, many more details of their interactions. She told me about their internal conflict and guilt in the beginning. She told me about a time Julian was distant and cold toward her. She told me about the happiness of their first hand-hold, their first kiss, the first time they slept together. She told me that after they established their relationship, on a rainy afternoon, Julian lay on the couch, she curled up in his arms, Julian rested his chin on the top of her head, and they played a game together on their phones. She said a lot of things. Finally, with tears in her eyes, looking utterly pitiful, she said, “Sarah, I know I’ve done you wrong. But we truly love each other.” I covered my mouth, ran to the bathroom, and retched for a long time. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Gentle eyes, pale face, which made my dark pupils look even more hollow, tragic, and desperate. I was shaking all over. I had never felt so disgusted. Wave after wave of dizziness hit me. My mind was blank, my vision spinning. I almost couldn’t control my own body. But at that exact, inappropriate moment, I thought of when Julian and I got married.

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The top-tier billionaire heir unprecedentedly posted a sexy abs photo that went viral, captioned: “Waiting for you in bed.” A currently trending pop starlet responded across the internet: “I’ll come home early tonight.” Overnight, the entire internet went crazy shipping them: “So sweet, this must be their official announcement.” But, if she is his official girlfriend, then who am I? 01 I am a notorious, love-to-hate actress in the entertainment industry. Lately, my luck had been pretty terrible. Several hit TV shows I starred in were banned one after another because other actors in them got into legal trouble. I was in a bad mood and had no desire to film anything. My manager took the opportunity to sign me up for a live-streamed variety show. Besides me, the other invited guest star was the currently trending “it girl,” Mia Sterling. She was the new rumored girlfriend of the top-tier billionaire heir, Nathaniel Blackwood, and also my nemesis. After the live stream officially started, the host asked us to greet the audience. Mia spoke first. Wearing a light blue dress, her voice was sickly sweet: “Hi everyone, it’s your girl Mia.” The host smirked and added, “Maybe in a little while, we’ll have to change how we address her and call her Mrs. Blackwood.” Amidst the teasing, Mia lowered her head and smiled shyly. “It’s still too early for that.” I couldn’t help but frown. But out of politeness, I didn’t interrupt her. The live chat boiled over: “Hahaha, so Mia is admitting to her relationship with Nate! I just saw a psychic reading two days ago saying our baby Mia has the face of a billionaire’s wife. Who knew she’d become the crown princess of New York high society so fast.” “Mia is too cute. No wonder the notoriously cold and untouchable billionaire heir fell for her. So sweet!!!” “Did you guys see the Instagram photo? OMG, Nate’s body is insane. Looking at it makes me blush. I can’t even imagine how ‘happy’ Mia’s night life is.” At this moment, someone noticed me in the corner: “Wait, what is with Scarlett’s expression? Is this green tea bitch jealous seeing our baby Mia and Nate together? So scary.” “Our Mia is more popular than her, more well-liked, and her boyfriend is a billionaire heir. She’ll enjoy endless wealth for the rest of her life. Hah, Scarlett must be dying of jealousy inside.” Seeing these malicious comments, I froze for a second. I wasn’t jealous of Mia; I was just a bit confused. Three days ago, because that stubborn, old-fashioned man Nathaniel refused to try a new position, we got into a huge fight and started a cold war. I blocked all his social media and contact info. I didn’t expect that when the dog couldn’t reach me, he would actually, for the first time ever, update his Instagram account that he hadn’t touched in a century. In the photo, the man had just stepped out of the shower, lying on the bed. A few crystal-clear water droplets perfectly highlighted his chiseled abs. His long, slender fingers grasped the dark-colored bedsheets in a mess. It was indescribably sexy and seductive. The caption: “Waiting for you in bed.” It pushed that ambiguous atmosphere to the absolute limit. A few minutes later, Mia reposted this photo, shyly shouting out across the web: “I’ll come home early tonight.” That night, the hype around Mia and Nathaniel’s ship rushed to the number one trending spot. It spread like wildfire, as if it were the absolute truth. The top comment from a shipper: “So sweet, this has to be the official announcement.” I read it with a face full of question marks. If Mia is Nathaniel’s official girlfriend, then who am I? Did this dog really find a new flame just three days into our cold war? Fine. Great. When we were together, he acted like his life depended on being modest. Even holding hands in public made his heart race and face turn red. I exhausted myself finally training him well, and as a result, he runs off to make a high-profile declaration of love to my nemesis??! 02 After the self-introduction segment passed, the host began arranging the first warm-up game. A cliché game of Truth or Dare. In the first round, Mia lost. The host got excited: “Will our Mia choose Truth or Dare?” Mia thought for a moment. “Truth.” Seeing there was gossip to dig up, the host’s pitch went up excitedly, “Oh, can we ask anything?” Hearing this, Mia shyly covered her face, “As long as it’s not too overboard. That person is quite low-profile.” The chat went into another sugar-craze frenzy: “Hahaha, Nate: Stop calling me ‘that person’, just read out my social security number already.” “Who gets it? After officially announcing it, are the lovebirds not even hiding anymore? The sweetness is severely exceeding limits.” “Scarlett’s face is green, she’s even rolling her eyes. She’s been fighting with our Mia for resources for so many years. Now that our Mia has someone backing her, she’s dumbfounded.” No… I was just bored out of my mind and adjusting the position of my color contacts. How did that turn into rolling my eyes? After getting Mia’s permission, the host wore an auntie-like smile: “Okay, our question is, can you describe the process of how you met that person?” Mia pursed her lips into a smile, as if reminiscing: “Last winter, as the spokesperson for the Blackwood Group, after finishing the commercial shoot, Nathaniel specifically bought a cup of hot cocoa and gave it to me. We strolled together in the garden…” The more Mia spoke, the redder her face got, finally lowering her eyes shyly. “Wow~ So romantic.” The host and other guests gave appropriate reactions, seemingly intoxicated by the story too. But as the background extra in the corner, the more I listened, the more I felt something was wrong. I put down the orange I was halfway through eating and couldn’t help but ask: “Are you sure that cup of hot cocoa was bought specifically for you by Nathaniel?” Mia paused for a second, raised her signature smile, and her voice sounded a bit wronged: “Yes, does Scarlett think I’m lying?” I advised her tactfully: “You might want to think back a little more carefully…” I had an impression of the shoot Mia was talking about. But I clearly remembered that day, due to some shameful reasons, Nathaniel didn’t even go to the company at all. Instead, he messed around with me in the bedroom for the entire afternoon. From the bed to the floor-to-ceiling windows to the vanity… When he left that night, his belt was snapped. The hot cocoa was a winter perk sent by the company executives to all employees. Even the cleaning ladies got a cup. As for strolling in the garden, that was even more ridiculous. That day it was hailing ice chunks the size of pigeon eggs… Mia probably didn’t expect to be questioned. Her sweet smile stiffened on her face, and her tone carried a trace of imperceptible anger: “Scarlett, you doubting me like this… are you very close with Nathaniel?” Due to professional reasons, I didn’t want to expose my relationship with Nathaniel, plus we were still in a cold war, so I gave a vague answer: “We’re alright.” Just at the level of having negative-distance interactions four or five times a week. Mia put on an innocent look: “Oh, is that so. But, Scarlett, why have I never heard Nathaniel mention you…” The chat exploded: “Hahaha, the face-slap came as fast as a tornado! Scarlett, this try-hard, is going to kill me with laughter. She actually dared to question the relationship between Mia and Nate. I bet she hasn’t even seen Nate’s face.” “Weakly asking, am I the only one who feels that Scarlett’s dodging eyes make it look like she really has a history with Nate? What if Mia is actually lying…” “Upstairs, where did you get this psychotic delusion? How could Nate have any history with this clout-chasing chick? It’s bad enough she competes with Mia for everything normally, but now she even dares to try to steal Nate. Her thick skin knows no bounds.” 03 After the Truth or Dare game ended. It was nearing noon. The show had an established tradition since it first aired. Every guest star had to randomly draw a friend from their contacts list live on the show and invite them over. This would determine whether the guests would eat a feast or dark cuisine for lunch. This was also the show’s glaringly obvious little scheme: by only paying the fee for two people, they could get the buzz of four celebrities. The assistant returned the phones that were collected at the start of the recording to me and Mia. The host spoke mysteriously: “Today’s invitation segment is a bit different from before. You need to cast your phone screen to the big screen, and the fans will pick who you invite.” Mia obligingly agreed and opened her iMessage. The big screen displayed her contact list. The pinned chat was named “My Nate”. The number of viewers on the live stream practically doubled, everyone spamming “Nathaniel Blackwood”, causing the popularity to skyrocket. The host looked at Mia with a face full of anticipation: “It seems the fans and I are very much looking forward to Mrs. Blackwood and Mr. Blackwood uniting on screen.” Amidst the crowd’s teasing, Mia slowly typed in the chat box: “Nathaniel, do you have time at noon?” The chat was boiling: “Yo yo yo, dating really turns people into kids, and our aloof Nate is no exception. Who is this cute nickname trying to kill with sweetness? Looking forward to the lovebirds in the same frame. Let’s see if Scarlett still dares to be so arrogant.” “I heard the Blackwood family has strict rules and a low-profile nature. They never allow descendants to participate in entertainment activities unrelated to the business. Is Nate going to break the rules for Mia? Wow, what an idol drama plot.” Time ticked by, minute by second, and the chat box for “My Nate” remained completely silent. Mia had to exit the screen casting first. A few seconds later, she suddenly widened her eyes in surprise, her tone acting coquettish: “Nathaniel replied! He said he was just in a meeting. He’s very busy today and can’t make it this afternoon.” “He also said he wants to buy me a few Hermes bags to make up for it. Hmph, how are a few bags enough? I want a hundred from him. I’ll keep one, and give the rest to the host and the fans.” Hearing that Nathaniel couldn’t come, the fans in the chat were visibly disappointed, but the next second they got very excited to eat the sugar: “Wow, Nate spoils Mia so much. A hundred designer bags, just like that. He really is inhumanly rich. Can Mia let me possess her body for two days?” “Really have to thank Mia for bringing us such great perks. Can’t believe how precious the bags bought by the billionaire heir will be.” “Is this the domineering wealth of the richest man in the city? No wonder Scarlett is so jealous of Mia. She must be dying of red-eyed envy right now.” The host’s eyes lit up, her tone very exaggerated: “Then let me thank Mia in advance! I guess I’m bathing in Mrs. Blackwood’s good fortune.” In this atmosphere of peace and harmony, I couldn’t hold it back and let out a laugh. Because Mia had already exited the screen casting, everyone couldn’t see her chat box. But I knew, this was absolutely impossible to be a message Nathaniel sent her. Unsurprisingly, my laughter triggered another climax in the chat, everyone flaming me for “sour grapes.” Only a few rational fans raised doubts: “How is it so coincidental? The moment she exits screen casting, Nate replies? Could Mia have made it up?” But very quickly, they were attacked back by the swarming netizens: “You must be a Scarlett fan. Like idol, like fan. Acting like rats in the gutter, universally hated and can’t stand to see others do well.” “…” After hearing the laugh, the host finally noticed my existence and casually asked without much care: “Scarlett, are you ready to cast your screen?” I was just about to nod when I suddenly remembered something and subconsciously gripped my phone tight: “Can we wait a second?” Mia comforted me gently, but a trace of mockery flashed through her eyes: “Scarlett, don’t feel pressured. Even if you just invite a small actor, we’ll be very happy.” Seeing my delayed movement, the host got a bit annoyed: “Is Scarlett too tired from playing games just now? It’s fine, I’ll help you.” The host snatched the phone from my hand. On the big screen, the first thing that caught everyone’s eye was the sexy, chiseled contours of a man’s silhouette, his pale pink lips slightly pursed. The man was kneeling on the wooden floor, his head tilted up slightly. Muscles were packed under a well-tailored suit, his tie casually being pulled by a woman’s hand painted with red nail polish. Cold and dripping with sexual tension. Even though only the lower half of his face was exposed, someone in the chat recognized him at a glance: “Isn’t this Nate? Why is Scarlett using Nate’s picture as her wallpaper?” “Good lord, so Scarlett, the green tea bitch, is a delusional fan of Nate. No wonder she has so much hostility towards our Mia. Sure enough, solo fans only have mental breakdowns when the real sister-in-law appears.” “But wait, this photo can’t be searched anywhere on the entire internet. Why does Scarlett have it? I’m increasingly feeling like there might actually be something between these two…” “Bullsht, this is obviously photoshopped at first glance. If you ask me, just let Scarlett invite Nate too. Mia is too kind. Let Nate come over in person and extinguish her arrogance.” “Hahaha, the person upstairs is a fcking genius! Why didn’t I think of such a savage move? Yes, let her invite him! The woman who bullied Nate and even dared to photoshop pictures to disgust him—I can’t wait to see this green tea’s reputation ruined.” “Support Scarlett inviting Nate!” Comments flooded the screen. 04 The host and other guests wore expressions waiting to watch a joke. Only Mia proactively leaned in. She had just faced a setback with her invitation and was eager to get her pride back from me: “Scarlett, the audience has made their choice. Why haven’t you messaged Nathaniel yet?” A few seconds later, she suddenly seemed to realize something and whispered an apology: “I’m sorry, Scarlett. You said before that you knew Nathaniel very well, so I assumed you definitely had each other’s contact info. I didn’t expect that you wouldn’t even have his number…” The chat scrolled crazily, maxing out the mockery: “Hahaha, the bluff got too big and now she can’t wrap it up. If I were Scarlett, I’d pack my things and roll out of the show right now to save myself the embarrassment. I feel awkward for her.” “No, but seriously, doesn’t anyone else feel like Mia is acting a bit like a green tea bitch? She clearly knows Nate is busy, yet she still tells Scarlett to invite him. Isn’t she intentionally trying to make her look like a fool?” “How is that green tea? Our Mia is the main chick. Seeing a vixen coveting her own husband and not cussing her out already shows our Mia has high class.” Seeing me remain unmoved, the host voiced the injustice for Mia: “Scarlett, Mia is talking to you. Out of politeness, shouldn’t you at least reply?” I looked at Mia and spoke flatly: “With such good acting skills, it’d be great if you used them when filming.” The host’s lips twitched in anger, but Mia stopped her, looking pitiful and fragile: “Scarlett, I understand you’re in a bad mood right now.” “How about this? I’ll send you Nathaniel’s contact info. But whether he’s willing to add you, I can’t guarantee…” I interrupted Mia carelessly: “No need. I have Nathaniel’s number, I just blocked him.” Mia’s expression looked a bit shocked. She pouted, adopting a tone as if she were thinking of my best interests: “Scarlett, I know you have a strong personality and don’t like being compared to others, but you really shouldn’t make these kinds of jokes. It’s really not funny…” The chat laughed: “People rack their brains trying to add Nate and can’t even get in. She, on the other hand, just blocks him? Who is she kidding, a three-year-old?” “Damn, I hate people who act tough the most. Especially when they pretend so poorly. Our little angel Mia already nicely advised her several times, and even offered to give her Nate’s number. She’s not only ungrateful but also has this arrogant attitude.” “Filming a show with such a toxic person… really feel bad for our Mia.” The host looked like she was gloating over a disaster: “Scarlett, since you said you have Nate’s contact, then invite him now.” The guests all cast their gazes, waiting to see me make a fool of myself. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, I slowly pulled out the contact named “Nate the Puppy” from my block list: “Giving you face. Come over at noon and cook.” The other side replied instantly: “Baby, you finally remembered me.” “Cooking together this afternoon? Let’s use the position you picked last time, okay? I’ve already practiced it many times.” “Baby, don’t ignore me. I promise I absolutely won’t refuse any of your demands in bed from now on…” I was already using my fastest speed to try and end the screen casting, but alas, Nathaniel’s messages came in too fast. A few still got exposed to the public eye. Nathaniel’s rapid-fire message bombing and R-rated texting style hard-cc’d the entire room for over ten seconds. 05 The host was stunned. “Scarlett, who are you messaging?” I secretly cursed this dog of a man for blurting out everything while busy explaining to her that cooking just meant normal cooking, answering without looking up: “Nathaniel Blackwood.” “Nathaniel Blackwood from the Blackwood Group?” I asked coldly: “Could it be Nathaniel Blackwood from the Smith Group?” The host spent the entire show deliberately agreeing with Mia to belittle and smear me. Using me as an antagonist to prop up Mia, and conveniently increasing the show’s ratings. This was probably their true purpose for inviting me. The chat: “HOLY SHT, HOLY SHT, HOLY SH*T! Massive plot twist! Scarlett actually blocked Nate! And the relationship between these two is way too ambiguous! Can I really watch this for free?” “What’s going on, getting pinched by Scarlett’s cuteness. This host is an old slicker. She’s been reported by many artists before for stepping on others to praise someone else. She should have been roasted long ago. Sister Scarlett is so badass.” “I should be under the car, I shouldn’t be in the car.” “…” The host shut her mouth resentfully, her face full of shock and disbelief, and looked at Mia beside her. Mia rushed in front of me, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “Scarlett, I don’t know where I offended you, but you definitely have it out for me today.” I lifted my eyelids, not knowing what kind of crazy fit she was throwing again. “Scarlett, whatever you do to me doesn’t matter. But finding someone to pretend to be Nathaniel to ruin his image is really going too far. No matter what, lying is wrong.” At this moment, the host slowly realized what was going on. “Scarlett, the avatar of the guy who just replied to you is completely different from the pinned contact on Mia’s phone. You actually say he’s Nate? Are you playing us for fools?” The chat flooded the screen: “666, it twisted, it really twisted, a 360-degree twist. That was close, almost got tricked by Scarlett.” “Scarlett is too scheming. If Mia hadn’t pointed it out, I might have really believed that was Nate’s message and even wondered if they were boyfriend and girlfriend.” “I actually very seriously doubted for a second just now if our baby Mia was lying to people. Ah, I really deserve to die.” “Boohoo, Scarlett, that jealous dream girl. Eager to be the other woman. Look at how wronged she made our Mia. When the time comes, Nate will definitely make her kneel and apologize to our Mia.” I knew that once my relationship with Nathaniel was exposed, it would be impossible to hide it anymore. Facing the host’s questioning, I simply explained truthfully: “This is Nathaniel’s private account. Only close people have it.” The host snorted disdainfully. “You mean to say, the account our Mia added is the official one, and the one you added is Nate’s real private account.” I nodded, too lazy to waste my breath: “Pretty much.” In reality, Nathaniel’s dedicated work account was also very hard to add. The people in it were generally executives and board members of major companies. I didn’t know how Mia managed to add it. The chat: “Hiss, don’t you guys think what Scarlett said makes a lot of sense? Big shots usually have one public and one private account. Plus, looking at her expression, so breezy and calm, she really doesn’t look like she’s lying.” “Upstairs, can’t you see all the flaws? Who is Nathaniel? A billionaire heir. How could he reply to messages in such a brothel-like style? And ‘Nate the Puppy’? Does Scarlett really have the guts to call him that?” “Hmph, this might just be a male model Scarlett hired somewhere. Don’t you guys know? Her private life is super messy. Smoking and drinking. How could Nate possibly look at someone like her.” “Ah, poor our Nate, actually having a male model impersonate him one day. Scarlett’s guts are really not ordinarily big. Is she really not afraid of being blacklisted.” 06 On the phone, Nathaniel was still continuously sending messages: “Sorry baby, I was practicing new positions all morning. Didn’t have time to notice you were recording a show, and didn’t pay attention to Twitter. My bad.” “Baby, I didn’t intentionally expose our relationship to the public eye. I promised you, I absolutely won’t interfere with your career, and I absolutely won’t ask for an official title.” “But baby, if I go to the show, you have to give me an identity, right? Boyfriend or Husband?” “If that really doesn’t work… simp is fine too.” I was just about to reply when I heard the host’s voice: “Mia, did Nate tell you what time he’s coming?” Mia shook her head. “Nathaniel is very busy, he probably can’t make it. Scarlett, let’s select someone else to invite together.” I raised my eyebrows in confusion. Mia consoled me: “Scarlett, I know you were just making everyone laugh earlier. However, even though Nathaniel has a good temper, if he’s constantly joked about, he’ll be unhappy too…” “Yeah,” the host chimed in sourly. “Scarlett, we can’t keep waiting with you all the time. Everyone is hungry. Let Liam draw first.” I responded calmly: “Nathaniel will arrive at 12:30.” Seeing my firm attitude, the host could only let it go, cueing the process and asking Mia to reselect. Actually, Mia said one thing wrong just now. Even though Nathaniel was an innocent puppy in front of me, his temper was one of the worst in the business world. His methods were ruthless, and he sought revenge for the smallest grievance. By clout-chasing this time, she really kicked a steel plate…

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I was on a reality dating show with the reigning Best Actor of Hollywood. To make sure I didn’t ruin his heavily-PR’d “showmance” with the current It Girl, I actively avoided him like the plague. But I underestimated the contrarian nature of modern netizens. After the show aired, the It Girl and the Best Actor were relentlessly mocked for their “artificial, focus-group-tested romance.” Meanwhile, the Best Actor and I—the “Anti-Showmance Duo”—accidentally went viral and broke the internet. Viewers: “They dodge eye contact but look at that chemistry! If they aren’t real, my entire life is a lie!” 1 I was notoriously known as the most problematic actress in my age group. My reputation was built on aggressively “shipping” myself with male co-stars to leach off their fame. Despite having a face sharp enough to cut glass and a killer, sultry vibe, my agency insisted I play the role of the fragile, innocent girl-next-door. Naturally, the internet despised me. They called me fake, manipulative, and a “green tea bitch.” While filming, the male leads’ PR teams would aggressively push for a fake romance. But once the project wrapped, they’d immediately pivot to playing the victim. I took the hate; they took the engagement. Seeing my reputation circle the drain, my agent threw me a lifeline: a live-streamed reality dating show. The strategy? Use my status as the internet’s punching bag to serve as the ultimate background character, thereby highlighting the sincerity and sweetness of the current It Girl, Chloe Vance. But just days before shooting began, news dropped that Silas Vance, an Oscar-winning Best Actor (and absolutely no relation to Chloe), was joining the cast. During my reckless college years, leaning heavily on my status as an upperclassman, I had a brief, embarrassing… incident with the impossibly beautiful, newly-minted star. We were definitely not meant to cross paths again. Thankfully, the producers had already established the show’s tone. Simply put, the entire show was a vehicle to serve the fabricated romance between Silas and Chloe. The rest of us were just props. Which meant I’d have zero interaction with Silas. My only job was to be a good piece of scenery, stay out of the spotlight, and clear the stage for him and Chloe. It was basically a paid vacation. I was thrilled. Getting paid to do absolutely nothing? Sign me up. On the first day of filming, Chloe arrived looking immaculate in a flowing white dress. The moment she stepped out of the car, the live chat exploded. “So THIS is why our Silas lowered himself to do a reality show! The high school sweetheart trope is real!” “Chloe is stunning. Such elegant goddess vibes.” I followed closely behind, makeup-free, wearing a faded t-shirt and shorts, and gave a lazy wave to the camera. The chat took a hard left. “Why is SHE here? So unlucky. Trailing right behind Chloe, trying to steal her thunder.” “But seriously, what is she wearing?! Nursing home chic?” “Reject female rivalry! Vote April Hayes off the island.” Heh. I was far too lazy to compete with them anyway. That would require a pay bump. Until Silas made his entrance, I diligently played the background character, watching the beautiful men and women vie for screen time. The second Silas appeared, I physically maneuvered myself completely out of the frame. I wasn’t even a background character anymore; I was off-screen. When it came to avoiding suspicion, I was a seasoned professional. Silas was the biggest name among us. He had kept a low profile for years, focusing strictly on acting, with zero scandals and almost no variety show appearances. Rumor had it that when the dating show producers first approached him, he flat-out refused. No one knew why he suddenly changed his mind. An A-list Best Actor dropping down to a reality show instantly sparked intense online debate. Everyone assumed he came specifically for Chloe. After all, when Chloe debuted, it was revealed that she and Silas had attended the same high school and college. There were even rumors that Chloe was the “one who got away,” the unattainable first love Silas had carried a torch for, remaining single to this day just waiting for her to look back. In Hollywood, star power is king. The moment Silas stepped out, the entire cast swarmed him, excitedly introducing themselves. When the camera panned to me, I was zoned out, staring at a bowl of sunflower seeds, trying to figure out if they were real or just props. The live chat was buzzing. “Look at her acting all aloof, ignoring our Silas! Doing anything for attention, she’s so pathetic.” “Okay, but honestly… I’m kind of getting her vibe? Even without makeup, she looks good. Effortlessly cool.” “Girl, are you crazy? You think April the Green Tea is cool? Who knows what toxic schemes she’s plotting.” Chloe seamlessly claimed the seat next to Silas. They were wearing complementary colors, looking very much like a couple. The chat was flooded with “A match made in heaven” and “Destined lovers.” I sat far away, cracking sunflower seeds, quietly observing Silas. It had been years. He was even more handsome now, practically oozing a detached, untouchable aura. He looked cold and distant. None of that soft, puppy-dog cuteness from before. The chat went wild. “The Vance-Thorne ship is sailing! Just one frame together and it’s raining pink bubbles. I’m dying!” Chloe casually flipped her hair and covered her mouth with a delicate laugh, sending the chat into a frenzy. “Chloe has so much class. She’s the only pure jasmine flower in the industry. How does April, that cheap knockoff, even dare to compare?” 2 Right at that moment, Silas suddenly looked over at me. I was mid-bite, a sunflower seed halfway to my mouth, and didn’t have time to look away. Our eyes locked. I immediately shifted my gaze to the nearest guy, a cute indie musician, and shot him a dramatic, exaggerated wink. The light in Silas’s eyes instantly darkened. An eagle-eyed viewer immediately commented: “Am I crazy, or did Silas just look… hurt? What did he just see?” “He was definitely looking at April.” “Girl, spit it out, knock on wood! Do not let Silas’s name be in the same sentence as April the Green Tea!” I wholeheartedly agreed with that hater. I didn’t want even a sliver of a connection to Silas. I just wanted to slack off for three months, collect my massive paycheck, and go home. That evening, before the anonymous “heartbeat letters” segment, the producers introduced a mixer. In a bizarre twist, they blindfolded all of us, put us in a confined room, and told us to walk around randomly. Whoever you grabbed was your date for the night. They even gave this ridiculous game a ridiculous name: “Cupid’s Blind Man’s Bluff.” I felt my sanity actively draining. Some netizens were equally unhappy. “This isn’t fair! April the Clout Chaser is definitely going to use this to grope the guys.” “Exactly! No other man is allowed to touch our Chloe! Chloe belongs to Silas.” Without sight, my other senses went into overdrive. In the small room, the sound of breathing overlapped. The accidental brushes of skin made the atmosphere heat up rapidly. I tensed up, frantically trying to parse through the chaos of various perfumes and colognes to identify Silas’s distinct body wash. And then, I actively walked in the opposite direction. The live chat was losing its mind. “The producers are messy for this! Too spicy!” “Chloe, go right! Silas is on the right! Ahhh, they almost bumped into each other!” “Wait, is anyone else noticing April’s pathing? It’s so weird. Holy crap, did she just kick a guy away?!” “Girl, I see it too. April is literally dodging everyone, especially Silas. It’s like she has a radar. This is wild.” “But what’s even crazier is that Silas keeps moving TOWARD April! Everyone else is stumbling around like headless chickens, but those two look like they have X-ray vision!” “She runs, he chases. There is no escape.” “Help, the comment above me is sending me!” Ten minutes later, the director blew the whistle. The pairings were set. Everyone else had tried their hardest to bump into someone else to manufacture some romantic tension. I, however, stuck to my strict “Don’t Touch Me” policy. One kick here, one dodge there, and I successfully avoided every single guy in the room. Which meant I also avoided Silas. However, when the blindfolds came off… Everyone else was paired up, holding hands. Only Silas and I were left, standing on opposite ends of the room, staring at each other. Chloe’s face dropped instantly. She ripped her hand away from the guy next to her. This had… backfired spectacularly. Chloe forced a sugary-sweet smile. “Director, we didn’t really understand the rules just now. Can we do a do-over?” I immediately stepped forward to support her. The chat scrolled furiously. “Ha, Green Tea April is definitely going to argue with Chloe. Let’s watch her terrible acting.” “She got lucky and ended up with Silas. She’s probably dying of happiness inside.” 3 I sprinted right up to the director. “She’s absolutely right! I agree! Do-over! We MUST do it over!” If I had known this would happen, I would have grabbed a random guy earlier! The rapper from this morning wasn’t bad, or the older action star… Literally anyone was better than Silas. Chloe probably hadn’t expected me to back her up so aggressively. She froze in place. Silas spoke, his tone flat. “It’s getting late. A do-over is a waste of time.” The director wasn’t about to argue with an A-lister like Silas, so that was that. Chloe walked slowly over to Silas, her eyes soft and pleading. “Silas, it’s okay. I’ll wait for you to get back.” The camera zoomed in for a tight close-up on the two of them. Chloe walked away, looking back over her shoulder three times, her eyes red as if she were marching off to war. The live chat erupted. “My heart breaks for Chloe. It’s all April’s fault. That bitch ruins everything. She’s doing this on purpose to mess with our girl.” “Speechless. If you don’t use your eyes, donate them. I’m just a casual viewer, and it’s obvious April didn’t do anything.” “Sisters, Green Tea April is definitely faking this ‘I don’t care’ attitude. Don’t be fooled! She’s going to show her true colors soon and throw herself at Silas. Just watch.” The date roster was locked in. I shot Silas a look of extreme reluctance and maintained a strict three-foot distance from him at all times. The live chat stalled for a moment before someone quietly commented: “Am I going crazy, or does April look like she’s genuinely disgusted by Silas?” “She’s not even trying to get close? Is this still Green Tea April? Did she get a personality transplant?” “LMAO, Silas keeps looking back to check if April is still there. What, is he afraid she’s going to run away?” “I mean, it really looks like April wants to run.” The date was set up on the beach. Dim lighting, candles on the table, rose petals scattered everywhere. It gave me a headache. I took the initiative. “What temperature do you keep your AC at?” Silas: “78.” Me: “I like 62. We’re not compatible.” A long silence. Silas spoke softly, “I can do 62.” What… is his deal? I pressed on. “Do you lick the foil lid on your yogurt cups?” Silas: “No.” Me: “I do. We’re not compatible.” Silas: “I…” I waved my hand. “I go to bed at exactly 8 PM every night, and I fall asleep listening to heavy metal. I’m heading back.” The chat was an avalanche of text. “QUICK, EVERYONE WATCH APRIL’S FEED! I’M LAUGHING MY HEAD OFF!” “Look how pitiful our Best Actor looks! He’s so wounded!” “The vibe between these two is so weird, but I’m kind of… shipping it?” “A ship can be rare, but it shouldn’t be cursed! This is a dangerous path. The Vance-Thorne ship is the only true path.” 4 I had just gotten back to the communal living room and was about to fire up a mobile game to cool down when Chloe walked in. Seeing me, she feigned shock. “April! You’re back so soon? What about your date?” I was leaning lazily against the doorframe, chewing on a piece of toast. “It’s dead.” A flash of triumph crossed Chloe’s eyes. It was fleeting, but I caught it. Given my terrible reputation and my history of aggressive showmances, the male cast members were avoiding me like the plague. Silas was A-list, known for being aloof and unapproachable. Chloe had definitely assumed Silas had kicked me out. She covered her mouth, her big eyes widening innocently, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Please don’t be mad, April. I apologize on Silas’s behalf.” Tsk. Her acting was so amateur. It was like watching someone try to fake an asthma attack. I suddenly felt a little bad for her fans. The chat: “Does April know how to talk? If you can’t speak nicely, keep your mouth shut. She’s just bullying our kind-hearted Chloe. She stole someone else’s date, and she has the nerve to be mad?” “Who started the drama on purpose? And where exactly did April look mad?” “Our girl was just checking in on her! How is that starting drama?” “Did she mention you? Stop catching strays!” The chat was a warzone. Silas pushed the door open and walked in. The camera immediately framed Chloe and Silas together, effectively pushing me out of the shot. I couldn’t help but give the cameraman a mental thumbs-up. Chloe hurried over, looking at Silas with deep, soulful eyes, taking on the tone of a protective girlfriend. “Silas, you shouldn’t have abandoned April like that. She’s a girl, she’s going to be heartbroken.” Silas’s gaze landed on me. It was dark, unreadable, like he had a million things to say but couldn’t. Right at that moment, a loud, cheerful “Victory!” blared from my phone. I frantically muted it and smiled at the two of them. “Sorry! My bad. Don’t mind me. Please, continue.” The chat lost it. “April is a legend.” “Redefining ‘Heartbroken’.” “April is carrying the comedy for this entire episode.” “What do I do? I suddenly feel like the vibe between Chloe and Silas is super awkward when they’re in the same frame. And they’re in the same frame A LOT! It feels forced.” “Sister above me, they’re in the same frame a lot because they like each other! Look at April and Silas—they’re always a mile apart. Of course they’re never in the same shot.” That night, out of the five male cast members, Chloe received four anonymous “heartbeat letters.” She had pre-applied waterproof makeup and cried uncontrollably in front of the camera. She said she was so grateful for their affection and deeply moved. But, she claimed, her heart already belonged to a bright moon, and there was no room for anyone else. The chat spammed: “Vance-Thorne is so sweet!” “Chloe is so poetic!” “Don’t cry, baby, you deserve the world!” Everyone was guessing which of the four letters was from Silas. The camera cut to me. I shuffled out in my slippers. I had only received one letter, and the producers had hidden it. When I asked why, they explained it was probably sent by mistake and didn’t count. Honestly, I understood. The producers needed drama. They were using me as a contrast to Chloe to manufacture conflict and views. Because I received zero letters, ranking dead last, I had to accept a punishment. Not only did I have to move into the worst room, but I also lost the right to choose a male guest for the next activity. Surprisingly, the hate comments died down a bit. A lot of people were actually leaving positive comments, trying to comfort me. Joke’s on them, I wasn’t sad at all. This wasn’t a punishment; it was a reward. Filming is exhausting. God knows how badly I just wanted to pass out in my room. The next day, everyone else picked their dates. Some were being sickeningly sweet, some were baking, some were having deep life chats, and some were stirring up drama. I slept until 9 AM, then sat in the corner farthest from Silas, playing mobile games. It was pure bliss. A little while later, Silas walked over to get water. His tall frame blocked my light. I silently got up and moved to the other side of the room. Soon after, Silas walked over to where I was sitting now to grab a peach. I thought he’d just grab it and leave. Instead, he stood there staring at the peach like it was a museum artifact, not moving an inch. I couldn’t take it anymore and stood up again. When I looked up, I accidentally locked eyes with him. His raven-black eyelashes fluttered slightly. His dark pupils were like bottomless pits. His thin lips were pressed together. Just looking at him made me feel a little flushed. After all these years, Silas was still ridiculously gorgeous. I turned to leave, but a flash of panic crossed his eyes, and he almost instinctively stepped in front of me to block my path. I stared at him calmly, showing no emotion, while my brain was a chaotic mess of question marks. What… does he want? Silas looked down, his voice cool but tinged with an undeniable sweetness: “Want a peach?” The chat exploded. “What the hell does ‘Want a peach’ mean?!” “Why does the usually aloof and arrogant Silas turn into a literal puppy the second he’s near April! I don’t understand, but I am shook.” “Hahahaha, April’s face: Back! Back! Back away!” “These two have the least amount of screentime together, and they’re avoiding each other the hardest, but they’re the ones making my heart flutter! This is insane.” I flat-out refused. “No.” The moment I said it, I remembered this was a livestream. Silas was an A-lister. Rejecting him like that felt like I wasn’t giving him enough face. So I changed my tune. “Give it to me.” The corners of Silas’s mouth twitched upward. “I’ll go wash it for you.” Me: “…” Bro, do you remember I’m supposed to be the background character? The chat peaked. “Holy shit, is this the first time Silas has smiled on this show?! And it’s directed at April?” “Before April paid attention to him, Silas (Aloof mode): I don’t smile. I was born not to smile. After April acknowledged him, Silas: Hehehehehe.” I furrowed my brows. When I took the washed peach from Silas, my hand accidentally brushed against his. His skin was cool, but the brief contact felt like a spark of fire. We both pulled our hands back almost simultaneously. Silas slowly curled his long fingers inward. The tips of his fingers were flushed pink. I coughed twice, grabbed the peach, and walked away without looking back. In less than two minutes of screen time, the chat was a blur of text. “Ahhhh! The way he looks at her! I’m dead.” “I’ve already mentally outlined a 100,000-word angst-filled romance. The whole world thinks we have nothing to do with each other, that we even hate each other. But only I know how badly I crave you in the dead of night. My desire, my obsession, my… (the rest can’t be broadcast).” “Keep going! Write more for your premium subscribers! Don’t leave out any details, movements, expressions, or sounds!” “Damn, they are intoxicating. Just brushing hands makes me want to scream. Is anyone else shipping this? Because if no one else is, I’m going in.” 6 “Hey, wake up! Chloe is right there! Stop shipping them blindly and ruining the Vance-Thorne romance. You ‘fans’ are making the comment section toxic.” “Oh, look who thinks they have a superiority complex over shipping. Newsflash: Chloe and Silas have the most screen time, but has he ever actually looked at her?” “Anyone with eyes can see the show only pushes Vance-Thorne. Why are you guys forcing it? Does April even deserve him?” “Are we really force-feeding couples now? The show’s manufactured romance is so fake it gives me a stomachache. I refuse to eat it. I’m a contrarian ostrich, and I love the Anti-Showmance duo! Stay mad! Stay mad!” “Anti-Showmance? LMAO. That perfectly fits April’s vibe.” After eating Silas’s peach, I lost three games in a row. It was definitely because my teammates sucked. It had absolutely nothing to do with me being flustered. Yep. Definitely. Over the next few weeks, Chloe suddenly became overly friendly with me. When I woke up in the morning, she’d greet me: “Our little sleepyhead April is finally awake!” It’s fine. Even if you didn’t point it out, the internet already knew I was lazy. While I was gaming, Chloe was doing yoga next door, smiling at the camera: “We girls need to cultivate elegant hobbies. I’ve been reading a lot of classic literature lately. I’ll share some with you guys when I have time.” Yeah, I saw it. The Billionaire’s Runaway Bride. I wonder if she ever managed to run away. One time, everyone was gathered around discussing Silas’s movies. When his film premiered, he sent exclusive merch to a lot of people in the industry. Chloe suddenly asked me, “April, which character’s merch did you receive?” Silas and I were notoriously unconnected in the industry; our teams never interacted. I replied flatly, “I didn’t get any.” Chloe looked pitiful. “I’m so sorry, April. I shouldn’t have asked. I wasn’t trying to open an old wound.” I nodded dismissively. “Okay. I forgive you.” Chloe froze. The chat was a wall of “HAHAHAHAHA.” “Guys, I can’t. I’m going to have a six-pack from laughing so hard.” Silas walked past Chloe and stopped beside me, lowering his voice. “I sent you a ton back then, but you rejected all of them. I thought you didn’t like them. Which one do you want? I’ll have them ship it now.” I looked away. “No thanks. I have no space for it.” In a corner off-camera, Chloe glared daggers at me and stormed off. I don’t know what got into her, but she kept making passive-aggressive remarks and treating me like her imaginary rival, which ended up forcing my screentime way up. I wonder if the producers will give me a bonus for this. Probably feeling that things had been too peaceful, the producers decided to stir the pot again. They announced a “Pajama Beach Party.” Everyone was supposed to gather, prepare their own dinner ingredients, and play games designed by the show. The losers would have to draw random cards provided by the producers and complete the punishments listed on them. The contents of the cards were a mystery. The stakes were a mystery. The teaser for the pajama party trended immediately, drawing in a ton of casual viewers. Netizens grabbed their popcorn and waited for the drama. That night, everyone coincidentally chose outfits that perfectly showed off their figures. Men and women gathered together, the waves crashing in the background, voices buzzing, skin flashing everywhere—it was a testosterone-fueled scene. The producers had set up a temporary outdoor kitchen. I was hiding in it, wearing a standard, shapeless blue cotton pajama set, grilling meat. Chat: “Trying to find April on camera is actually difficult. If anyone ever says she’s an attention hog again, I will fight them.” “I’m slowly getting used to April’s bizarre fashion choices. It’s giving ‘I know I’m pretty, so I do what I want’.” “Well, look who it is! That’s the woman who falls asleep listening to heavy metal.” 7 Just as the meat finished grilling, the rapper kid sidled up to me. “Smells amazing. Can I have some?” I replied politely, “Sure, I can’t finish it all by myself.” He wasn’t wearing a shirt, just a pair of floral swim trunks, with a slightly roguish look in his eyes. In the recent voting rounds for “Heartbeat Guests,” he had received the fewest votes, and his screentime had plummeted. He was probably trying to team up with me, a fellow bottom-tier contestant, to create some buzz. Unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong person. I was praying for less screentime. After eating the meat, he leaned in closer, gave me a wink, and forced out a raspy, “vocal fry” voice: “To repay you, let me peel an apple for you, April.” Me: “…” Kid, you’re trying way too hard. I was just about to decline when Silas navigated through the crowd and walked over. The rapper quickly tried to suck up to him. “Hey, Silas. Looking for Chloe? She’s not over here.” Silas completely ignored him, carefully sat down next to me, and said flatly, “I want an apple. I’ll peel it.” The chat went feral. “The Best Actor is being so pouty! I’m laughing so loud!” “Silas looks like a giant dog competing for affection. What do I do? I think I’m shifting from a fan to a protective mom.” “Things are getting spicy! The pressure is on April.” Why wasn’t Silas performing for the cameras properly? What was he doing causing trouble over here? Could he really have held a grudge from high school all the way until now? No way, right? A revered Best Actor couldn’t be that petty. I frowned at the rapper. “He doesn’t know how. You do it.” Silas didn’t say a word. He just grabbed an apple and started peeling. The knife glinted. Silas’s cold gaze swept over the rapper’s bare torso, his hand peeling the apple with aggressive force. The rapper looked dumbfounded. He swallowed hard, looked at me, looked at Silas, dropped his apple, made an excuse, and bolted. The chat exploded with laughter: “In just a few seconds, Silas completely fried that kid’s brain.” “Silas: It doesn’t matter. I will intervene.” “TBH, when I first started shipping the Anti-Showmance duo, my expression was exactly the same as that half-naked guy with the cowlick.” “Luke: Do I not deserve to have my name mentioned?” Once Luke (the rapper) left, I wanted to leave too. “Hss—” The knife in Silas’s hand dropped to the table with a dull thud. I pulled back the leg I had just extended. Silas opened his hand. A bead of blood was blooming on his pale, long finger, like a red rose blooming in the snow. I hesitated for a second, but couldn’t resist grabbing a Band-Aid. I was just being a good Samaritan. I didn’t feel bad for him at all. Yep, definitely not. Silas obediently held his hand out to me, his brow slightly furrowed, the corners of his eyes tinged red. He looked incredibly pitiful. The chat: “And now, please enjoy the blockbuster film starring Best Actor Silas Thorne: So What If I’m Manipulative? Also known as Look How Desperate I Am.” “Silas’s inner monologue: April, look at me. I’m hurt. Comfort me. If you wait any longer, the wound will heal itself.” “Silas, do you remember that you’re the tough guy who broke two ribs during filming and didn’t even make a sound?” “I’m poisoned! I can actually see a hint of fondness in April’s disgusted actions.” After I applied the Band-Aid, the game over there was about to start. They were reading the rules. I got up and walked over. Silas followed silently behind me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “413017”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

While waiting in line at the hospital for my follow-up appointment, the massive TV screen in the lobby was broadcasting the live feed of an international film festival. During the acceptance speech, he didn’t say a single word. Instead, in front of the entire world, he made a phone call. And then, my phone rang… 1 I clutched my appointment slip, shivering slightly under the blast of the air conditioning. My lower abdomen still ached with a dull throb. It had been three months since I was discharged, and I was back for a check-up. But I didn’t expect to see him everywhere I went. I stared blankly at the large screen. It was broadcasting a prestigious film festival in Europe, and the camera was zoomed in on the young American filmmaker holding the gold trophy. His features were so familiar, yet so foreign. Elias Thorne. The visionary director. He had reached the peak of the industry the moment he debuted. Over the last two years, his masterpiece Spring Awakening had swept every domestic award, and now, he had just taken home Best Director on the international stage. It had been years since someone so young had stood on that stage. Even the hospital’s waiting room TV had been switched to the live broadcast ten minutes ago. The whole country was watching, bursting with pride. Elias was exactly how I remembered him—radiant, blinding, and utterly mesmerizing. “Our movies are finally taking the world by storm! I’m so proud I could die. I don’t even feel my sickness anymore,” a patient nearby whispered. “It’s unfair enough that Elias is a genius, but does he also have to look better than Hollywood’s top leading men?” “Shh, be quiet. He’s about to give his speech.” The people around me were practically vibrating with excitement, holding their breath to hear his acceptance speech. I tilted my head back, looking at the screen. Under the spotlight, Elias didn’t say a word. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and pressed it to his ear. I could hardly believe it. In front of the whole world, he was making a phone call. During his acceptance speech. And then, the phone resting on my lap began to ring. An unknown international number flashed beautifully across the screen. A ridiculous, absurd thought rose in my chest. The people around me turned to look, their expressions a mix of disbelief and weirdness. They muttered, “What a coincidence,” and turned back to the screen. It really was a coincidence. A coincidence so perfect I almost deluded myself into thinking Elias was actually calling me. I picked up my phone, my fingertips trembling. Suddenly, the kid in the seat next to me swung his arm, and smack—my phone went flying across the floor. The ringing had already annoyed a few people, who shot me irritated glares. I bit my lip and hurriedly bent down to pick it up. Just as my fingers brushed the screen, the kid suddenly yanked on my beanie. A cold draft hit my scalp. The ringing stopped at that exact moment. The screen lit up with a missed call. The kid spoke with the cruel innocence only children possess: “Lady, why don’t you have any hair? You look scary.” The polished hospital floor reflected my pale, bald scalp. Yes, I didn’t have any hair. Yes, I looked scary. I looked up again. On the big screen, the young man had already finished his silent “speech,” his expression slightly cold. Starlight, glamour, the center of the world. That was Elias’s life. The intercom finally called my name. “Number eighty-six, April Hayes. Clinic Room Three.” I answered. This was my life. 2 The check-up results were decent, which was the only good news I’d had lately. I lay on my couch, scrolling through social media. Ever since Elias won the award, every platform had been flooded with his name for half a month straight. Reporters ambushed him at the airport, throwing questions at him that he refused to answer. “Director Thorne, who exactly was that highly-anticipated phone call for?” Escorted by bodyguards in black, he finally turned his head and answered the only question he would entertain. He was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn’t see his eyes, but the smile on his lips was dripping with sarcasm. Elias said, “The person I hate the most.” Calling the person you hate the most during your acceptance speech. Anyone could tell there was some serious baggage there. Soon enough, Hollywood insiders started leaking rumors. The person Elias loved and hated so deeply was supposedly the rising B-list starlet, Vivian Vance. The two had known each other since college, and their dramatic history could fill an eighty-episode soap opera. I opened my call log and stared at that missed international call. The day I walked out of the clinic, I tried calling that number back. Over and over again. No one ever answered. It was probably just a spam call. Whatever. 3 “Vivian Vance really hit the jackpot. Tying her name to Elias Thorne? She’s going to have so many scripts thrown at her she won’t be able to carry them.” Maggie, my manager, indignantly yanked the curtains open, letting the sunlight spill right into my eyes. Another trending topic had just hit Twitter: #VivianVanceAprilHayes. Clicking on it revealed a sea of pure hatred directed at me. Vivian had climbed the ladder by stepping on my neck. She debuted in college doing teen dramas, but somehow, her career stalled, and she stumbled her way into becoming a rom-com sidekick. Meanwhile, I used to be “America’s Sweetheart.” The kind of actress people couldn’t help but smile at when they saw my picture. That was until I saved a drugged Vivian at a Hollywood industry mixer. The security footage was leaked and selectively edited to make it look like I was the one offering up a junior actress to a powerful studio executive. People used to call me the Girl Next Door. After that incident, they called me the Hollywood Fixer. Throughout the entire scandal, Vivian didn’t say a single word. Not one word to clear my name. Instead, she played the role of the perfect victim. She booked several major roles out of the sympathy wave and skyrocketed from a nobody to a household name. Right around that time, I was diagnosed with cancer. I quietly stepped away from the industry, only to have people send funeral wreaths to my front door telling me to die. Maggie, my manager, was heartbroken for me. She cursed the netizens for being vile, but I just laughed and joked, “It’s fine, the wreaths will save us money on my funeral.” I genuinely thought I was going to die back then. I never expected to somehow survive until today. My hair fell out, my body wasted away, and I completely forgot how to smile genuinely. But I was still alive. With Vivian’s popularity surging again, her PR team dragged my name out to beat a dead horse. “Does April Hayes think hiding from the industry makes it okay? Come out and apologize!” “April the Fixer bullied our innocent girl. Disgusting.” “Is April Hayes even still alive?” That was the rhetoric in her fan groups. The hashtag with my name was climbing the charts when suddenly, a bright red “BREAKING” tag parachuted into the number one spot: #EliasThorneRealityShow. 4 The Real You was a highly anticipated reality show that had been in the works since last year. It was trending because rumors said Elias Thorne was joining the cast. Elias was notoriously private. Even though his popularity had peaked over the last two days, the press still couldn’t dig up any new information on him. Rumor had it that not only was he joining the show, but he would also be choosing the lead for his next film from among the cast members. Suddenly, getting a spot on that show became a bloodbath. Maggie looked at the rumor mill and sighed wistfully. “If you could just get on this show, I bet you could clear your name and make a comeback.” We both laughed. I was trying to make a comeback now, but I couldn’t even book a commercial, let alone a spot on a premium reality show. Pennies don’t just fall from heaven. And capitalists don’t run charities. 5 But this time, a penny really did fall from heaven. Standing in front of the Malibu beach house where The Real You was filming, I still couldn’t quite believe it. I was wearing a high-quality wig and a full face of makeup. I just looked like a much thinner version of my old self. Before I left, Maggie told me this was my chance to turn things around. Honestly, whether I cleared my name or not wasn’t that important to me. I just wanted to live for one more day, and bring the audience a little joy for one more day. Facing the familiar camera lenses, I pulled out my signature “America’s Sweetheart” smile. Suddenly, the cameraman pivoted, pointing the lens right behind me. I turned around, and the smile froze on my face. Elias and Vivian were walking up together, the ocean breeze catching their clothes. Elias had fully grown into his features—he looked absolutely striking. “Eli…” I managed to get the first syllable out before my throat closed up. He and Vivian brushed right past me. He didn’t spare me a single glance. I kept my head down, staring at my shoes, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. I was glad he was still shining, still mesmerizing. It made my own gray, fading existence feel a little less pathetic. “You.” Vivian suddenly turned around, pointing at the suitcase behind her, addressing me. “Carry this to my room.” I looked around. Vivian curled her lips into a smirk, pointing straight at me. “Yes, you. April Hayes.” It was incredibly jarring. She had been playing the innocent, sweet girl-next-door for two years, but in front of me, she dropped the act completely. “Vivian, we’re livestreaming,” I said quietly. The color drained from her face. She instantly switched back to her usual sweet smile, her lips turning pale as she frantically tried to think of a way to salvage the situation. I took my time and added, “Just kidding.” The emotional rollercoaster was too much for her. Realizing she’d been played, she choked on her anger. She looked back and saw that Elias hadn’t waited for her at all and was already far ahead. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed her own suitcase and chased after him. The producers had obviously invited me because the bad blood between Vivian and me was guaranteed drama and ratings. Hitting back at her like that was exactly what they wanted. 6 After unpacking in my assigned room, I walked out and bumped right into Elias. His room was directly across from mine. He must have just showered; his bangs were slightly damp. They say fame nourishes a person, and Elias looked more aristocratic than ever. Only the cold distance radiating from him matched the brooding, eccentric boy I once knew. When I tried to call his name earlier, it was pure muscle memory. Now, my rationality had returned. I remembered that he probably didn’t want to talk to me, so I lowered my eyes and waited for him to pass. Instead, a mocking voice floated down from above me. “Did your billionaire boyfriend stop feeding you?” I looked up. Elias’s eyes were cold, his gaze landing on my protruding collarbones. I instinctively pulled my sleeves down to cover my frail wrists and said softly, “I’m on a diet.” He scoffed. “Working hard to marry into money, huh. Dedication.” It was humiliating and incredibly blunt. I opened my mouth to speak. But Elias had already walked downstairs. 7 The Real You had cast some serious heavy hitters. During introductions, everyone rattled off a massive list of blockbuster credits. I had a few hits under my belt too—luckily, the comedies I filmed back in the day had been massive box office successes. But when I finished my introduction, unlike with the others, no one chimed in. The room went dead silent. I was the outlier on this show. Everyone else was either a powerhouse actor or someone with massive backing like Vivian. And then there was me: out of the industry for two years, carrying the weight of a massive, career-ending scandal. No one knew how to handle me, so these industry veterans simply chose silence. A crisp voice broke the tension. Vivian looked at me and said, “Those movies are from years ago. April, what exactly have you been doing for the last two years?” It sounded like genuine curiosity, but her fans had spent two years harassing me, demanding to know why I couldn’t even write an apology letter. Rumors claimed I had vanished to marry a billionaire. A viral Reddit thread had “analyzed” the evidence so convincingly that even I almost believed it. Elias, who hated socializing and had kept his eyes lowered the whole time, suddenly looked up at me. The words I was about to say died in my throat. “I went to experience life and hone my acting skills,” I said, resting my chin on my hand and smiling carelessly. “If someone gives me the role of a dying patient right now, I bet I could go to the Oscars with Director Thorne next time.” It was shameless and arrogant. The room erupted into laughter, easing the awkward tension. Even the tight lines around Elias’s eyes relaxed for a fraction of a second. But only for a fraction of a second. The producers announced a new activity: going out to explore the local town to break the ice. The area had some beautiful scenery. But there was a catch: someone had to stay at the beach house to cook dinner. Compared to going out and exploring, cooking was not only boring but also highly likely to be cut from the final edit. It was a thankless job. The cast members all made excuses about not knowing how to cook, dodging the bullet like the plague. “April knows how.” I looked up in bewilderment, meeting Elias’s dark, heavy eyes. I really didn’t realize he hated me this much—he wouldn’t even give me a chance to get screen time. I actually did know how to cook, and I was pretty good at it. Back in the day, if I made a bowl of noodles, Elias would drink every last drop of the broth. But I couldn’t do it now. My sense of taste was practically gone from the chemo. “I don’t know how—” I instinctively started to refuse, but then I noticed the looks from the other cast members. I swallowed the words, put on a bright smile, and said, “Even if I don’t, I have to learn now. If Director Thorne asks, I must deliver.” A mocking smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Elias was at the top of the world now; his word was law. Even if I really didn’t know how, I’d have to learn on the spot. My mouth tasted bitter. Only now, faced with this reality, did I feel a tiny pang of regret. If only I had never met Elias Thorne. 8 To my surprise, someone volunteered to stay behind and help me. It was Lily, a former child star who had grown into a talented actress, clearly here to vie for the lead in Elias’s new movie. “Don’t take it to heart. He’s just letting Vivian blow off some steam. Director Thorne won’t make things too hard for you,” Lily whispered to me, turning her back to the cameras while washing vegetables. I nodded. Everyone knew Elias and I had no history together (or so they thought). For him to target me out of nowhere, it could only be to avenge Vivian. I stir-fried some greens and asked Lily to taste it. Her face contorted into an expression of pure agony. “April… you really don’t know how to cook, do you?” I gave an awkward laugh and handed the spatula over. I settled for being her sous-chef, washing veggies and carrying plates. Just as dinner was almost ready, a loud, cheerful commotion echoed from the living room. It sounded like they had a great time outside. I poked my head out, ready to call everyone to dinner, only to lock eyes with a pair of incredibly happy ones. Vivian was tugging on Elias’s sleeve, laughing radiantly. The sight burned me. I immediately spun around. Lily looked at me in confusion. I shook my head, signaling I was fine, and silently carried the plates to the dining table. The cast sat down. The food was delicious, and everyone showered Lily with praise. Everyone except Elias. He took one bite, lowered his eyes, and a cold aura settled over him. The moment I saw that look on His Majesty’s face, I had a bad feeling. Sure enough. Elias wiped his mouth with a napkin, his narrow eyes freezing cold. “April Hayes, did you make this?” My face flushed crimson. He was being stubborn, relentless, and deliberately humiliating me. When Elias acted like this, it was just… exhausting. 9 After that incident at the dinner table, everyone got the message loud and clear. In Elias’s eyes, I was blacklisted. The entertainment industry is full of opportunists, and very quickly, I found myself completely isolated. Even Lily, who had kindly lent a hand, was put in an awkward position. I didn’t want to drag her down, so I voluntarily distanced myself from her. That night, after taking a shower, I took off my wig. Fine, dark fuzz had started to grow on my scalp, like new grass in spring. Give it a few more months, and maybe I wouldn’t even need the wig anymore. There were port marks on my collarbone from the treatments, and a surgical scar slashing across my stomach. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was painfully thin, but my eyes were bright. I pulled at my cheeks and forced a smile. “Hey, April.” “Leave them with something better to remember you by.” I took my medication, but I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I threw on a jacket and went out to the hallway balcony to get some air. The distant ocean shimmered under the moonlight, and the breeze carried the sharp scent of saltwater. My tense nerves finally relaxed. I was just about to head back to my room when I heard voices behind me. “Elias, it’s been so many years. Why can’t you let it go? What did I do wrong?” Vivian was crying. My hand tightened on the railing. I instantly knew who she was begging so pitifully. Eavesdropping was wrong, and I was here first, but I was hidden behind a sheer white curtain, so they hadn’t seen me. If I walked out now, I’d bump right into them, which would be impossible to explain. The person on the other side was silent for a long time before replying with two words: “I’m sorry.” I had no idea what Vivian had done to trigger this dramatic saga of love and hate, but it wasn’t my business anyway. Once I heard the sound of retreating footsteps, I waited a little longer. When everything was quiet, I tiptoed out, ready to leave. I turned around and walked right into Elias’s gaze. He was leaning against the wall, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, the cherry glowing like a tiny spark in the dark. He was looking right at me. He had known I was there the whole time. But the first words that blurted out of my mouth were, “You’re smoking?” He used to hate people who smoked and drank. “People change.” He smirked, though I couldn’t tell who he was mocking. 10 People change. But from the very first time I saw Elias, I believed he would always be pure and uncorrupted. It was an inexplicable, aching intuition. Elias transferred to our high school in sophomore year. The moment he walked through the gates, the news spread like wildfire: a ridiculously gorgeous guy had arrived. Back then, I loved to laugh and got along with everyone. I was perpetually cheerful, and bad luck never seemed to touch me. The teacher randomly pointed a finger and entrusted the new student to my care. “April.” I looked up, crashing right into the new kid’s pitch-black eyes. Monolids, looking tired and lazy. “This is your new desk partner. Take good care of him.” I jumped out of my seat with excitement. The teacher had mentioned Elias was a bit “withdrawn.” Later, I realized the teacher was being extremely generous with her words. It was way more than “a bit.” With a face like that—lean, striking, with pale skin—I figured there was no way people would isolate him. I thought his life would be surrounded by friends and noise. I was wrong. It wasn’t that people isolated Elias; it was that he isolated himself from the rest of the world. But in every world, there’s always someone who takes an inch of sunshine and runs a mile with it. Like me. Back then, Elias was covered in thorns; anyone who got close bled. But I had thick skin. He gave me the cold shoulder for an entire year, but he just couldn’t freeze me out. He probably never expected to meet someone like April Hayes, someone who completely ignored social cues. I didn’t want anything from him, really. I just wanted him to be a little happier. I treated everyone around me like that. I wanted everyone to be happy every day. But Elias… was special. I was too young to understand where that “specialness” came from. Until one day, some classmates made a bet on how many eyelashes Elias had. While he was napping at his desk, I leaned in to count them. They were long and thick, framing the elegant slope of his nose. One, two, three. Four, five, six. I counted slowly, kept losing track, and had to start over. The sleeping Elias suddenly raised a hand and covered my eyes. “Stop counting. Go to sleep.” His voice was husky, his palm burning hot against my skin. Thump, thump, thump. Four, five, six. It took me a delayed moment to realize that was the sound of my own violently pounding heart. From then on, there was no going back.

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I transmigrated into a redemption novel as the mafia heiress. The male lead was the adopted son I had bullied in every possible way. The illegitimate daughter—the original female lead—stood before me, aggressive and self-righteous: “You bitch, I won’t let you hurt him again!” But in the very next second, she was violently grabbed by the throat by the usually silent, brooding male lead. My eyes curved into a smile, though my expression remained perfectly innocent. “Don’t provoke me. When he goes crazy, he might actually kill you.” 01 The timing of my transmigration into this book was impeccable. The male lead had just been assigned by my father to be “my” bodyguard. Though he agreed in silence, having read the whole book, I knew he was far from submissive. He believed only in the strong. And he despised “me,” a fragile, spoiled mob princess. Moreover, “my” original personality was arrogant and cruel. I took pleasure in tormenting him, making him loathe “me” to the core. But out of a sense of duty to repay his debt to my family, he swallowed all the bitterness, his personality growing increasingly dark and withdrawn. And that was exactly what gave the illegitimate daughter, the female lead, the chance to “redeem” him. Earning his absolute, undivided loyalty in return. But now that I was here, I naturally wouldn’t let her succeed. I went straight to my father and proposed a sparring match between the male lead and me. Whoever landed the first solid hit won, and the winner would be the boss. In the sparring ring, I stared blankly at the handsome boy across from me, speaking loudly: “Show me everything you’ve got. I won’t hold back.” The boy narrowed his eyes slightly and silently dropped into an offensive stance. “Begin!” At the command, the match started. At first, his attitude was dismissive, but as my attacks grew relentless, he had to take it seriously. Eventually, I found an opening and landed a solid punch squarely on his left cheek. He let out a muffled groan, stumbling back a few steps and crashing into the ropes. He stared at me in shock. “You—” I raised an eyebrow, my tone freezing cold: “Declan, you lose.” 02 From then on, I became Declan’s undisputed boss. He challenged me frequently after that, even encouraging other guys in the syndicate to spar with me, but they all ended in failure. After all, in my past life, I was a top-tier martial artist. This result wasn’t a surprise to me. But when Declan got accidentally injured during one of our bouts, he couldn’t help but ask: “Why do you push yourself so hard every time…?” I glanced at him, my expression dead serious. “I know you’ve always looked down on me. Actually, it’s not just you. A lot of people think I’m just a spoiled heiress who only knows how to spend money. I went all out today not just for you, but to prove to everyone that my father’s daughter is not useless.” His expression shifted, a flash of guilt crossing his face. After a moment of silence, he spoke with genuine sincerity: “I’m sorry. I misjudged you before.” I waved it off. “I don’t need your apology. I need your loyalty.” Declan froze. I locked eyes with him, enunciating every word: “Declan, I want you to swear that you will never betray me.” The moment the words left my mouth, Declan didn’t hesitate. He dropped to one knee at my feet, his expression devout: “I, Declan, swear that in this life, I will never betray my Lady, Harper Vance.” Looking at him, the smile on my lips deepened. Declan was a man of his word. Once he made a promise, he would never go back on it. How many steps does it take to conquer a man? First, become a tiger, then become a cat. I subdued him with force first, then moved him with my attitude. Father this, father that—I didn’t care about any of that. I was just really curious. Now that I had taken the upper hand, what was the female lead going to do? 03 In the blink of an eye, five years passed. I was a junior in college today, but I had already taken over parts of my father’s legitimate businesses and moved into an apartment closer to campus. But today, I received a sudden phone call from my father summoning me back home. Sitting in the car heading back to the estate, I curled the corner of my mouth: “Declan, I think something interesting is going to happen today.” Declan’s deep eyes landed on my face, his voice low: “I will keep you safe, Miss.” I raised an eyebrow, a smile as sweet as honey on my face. Male lead, your female lead is about to make her entrance today. I wanted to see if the plot could still force its way back on track. If it couldn’t, I’d just have to kill you. After all, even though my identity was technically stolen, I had worked hard for my achievements these past years. I wasn’t about to hand them over to anyone. Walking into the mansion, I immediately spotted the girl sitting next to my father. She was wearing a pink dress, her eyes watery, clinging to my father’s arm looking timid and helpless. My father held her hand gently, but the look he gave me carried a warning. He said coldly, “Harper, this is your sister, Mia. From now on, she is the second daughter of this house. You need to take good care of her.” Mia. Like a delicate jewel. It seemed my father truly doted on her. I smiled faintly, walked right up to Mia, raised my hand, and slapped her hard across the face. Everyone in the room paled. My father immediately shielded Mia, roaring in fury, “Harper Vance, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Mia covered her face, tears sliding down her cheeks like a tragic heroine, making anyone want to pity her. It truly was pathetic. If I hadn’t known the wild ambition hidden inside this woman, I might have been fooled too. I raised my eyes, staring back at my father fearlessly, my voice cold: “Father, it’s one thing to hide a bastard child away, but bringing her into our home? Are you trying to humiliate me?” My father was enraged, slamming his hand on the table. “Harper, are you trying to start a war?! How dare you speak to me like that!” Declan instantly stepped in front of me. Seeing this, my father’s face turned completely livid. I smiled and waved my hand, and only then did Declan carefully step back behind me. I continued, “Besides, if you brought the kid back, how could you just leave the mother out on the streets?” As I spoke, I slowly approached Uncle Arthur, a founding member of the syndicate and my father’s right-hand man. I tossed a stack of photos right into a woman’s face nearby and flashed a brilliant smile. “Aunt Evelyn, you’ve been having an affair with my father for all these years, and the kid is already this old. Tell me, did Uncle Arthur know about this?” 04 The photos scattered across the floor, showing a man and a woman in various intimate positions, leaving everyone dumbfounded. Aunt Evelyn’s face went deathly pale. She stumbled backward, lost her footing, and fell to the floor. In the very next second, Uncle Arthur grabbed her by the hair and slapped her three times across the face. Her face immediately swelled up, but she was still trying to defend herself: “These are fake! It’s not real!” But seeing her get hit, Mia panicked and instinctively screamed, “Mom!” The final nail in the coffin. I burst out laughing, reckless and loud. “Oh my, your daughter just admitted it.” Seeing that the situation was unsalvageable, my father tried to step in to stop the chaos. But Uncle Arthur, consumed by rage, started brawling with my father. The entire grand hall descended into absolute chaos. I watched the scene coldly, but a smile touched my lips. “Declan, it’s time for us to go.” Declan nodded. But just as we reached the door, we were blocked. Mia glared at me, her eyes practically shooting fire. “You crazy bitch, you orchestrated all of this!” Then, she looked at Declan, her eyes shining, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Declan, she’s a terrible woman! I’m here to save you!” But the moment the words left her mouth, Declan grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air. She looked shocked, her face draining of color. She stared wide-eyed in terror, completely unable to comprehend what was happening. I looked straight into her eyes, my smile innocent and naive, but my gaze as cold as an ice pick: “Be a good girl and don’t provoke me. When he goes crazy, he might actually kill you.” I never thought Mia would be stupid enough to try and turn him against me right to my face. Did she really think Declan would just leave with her? Besides, I hadn’t abused Declan once in all these years. What was there to “save” him from? Unless she was still operating on the plot of the original timeline. At that thought, a glint of malice flashed in my eyes. This game just got a lot more interesting. 05 In the end, the incident was swept under the rug. I don’t know what my father promised Uncle Arthur, but Arthur actually swallowed the humiliation of being cuckolded. My father even threw a lavish banquet to officially announce Mia’s identity. As for Evelyn, my father obviously wasn’t stupid enough to marry her. He might have liked her, but he loved his reputation more. He wouldn’t let everyone know he was the kind of scum who slept with his subordinate’s wife for years. Furthermore, since Uncle Arthur forgave my father out of self-interest, he could only take all his anger out on Evelyn. Declan handed me a few photos, speaking softly: “The Boss sent her abroad.” In the photos, Evelyn was tearfully saying goodbye to my father. She was bundled up heavily, but you could still see horrifying bruises on her skin. She even needed someone to support her just to walk. “Looks like Uncle Arthur didn’t hold back.” I gently swirled the red wine in my glass, saying nonchalantly, “Those in power tolerate things for profit. Those at the bottom act without consequence.” Tsk, the inherent flaws of men. I took a sip of wine and asked, “Her daughter is now an official Vance, which makes her a legitimate heir. She plotted for years for this exact outcome. Why would she leave so easily? What did my father promise her?” Declan pulled out a tissue and gently wiped a drop of wine from the corner of my mouth before replying, “The Boss promised her he’d bring her back in a few years. But privately, he gave orders that she is never allowed to return.” After making sure I was clean, he didn’t throw the tissue away; instead, he slipped it into his pocket. I looked up at him, but he met my gaze with total composure, looking as innocent as if he hadn’t done anything weird at all. Of course, it would have been more convincing if the tips of his ears weren’t burning red. I smiled faintly. Just then, a soft voice came from behind. “Sister, Declan, what are you two talking about? You look so happy.” I turned to see my father and Mia, dressed in an elaborate evening gown. Her eyes landed on Declan, a blush of awe spreading across her cheeks. Having someone covet what was mine displeased me, but outwardly I smiled and said, “We were just talking about Aunt Evelyn.” Seeing her face stiffen, my gaze bounced between her and my father. My voice carried a hint of mock regret: “Sister, did you know Aunt Evelyn was sent away? And she’s never coming back.” Mia forced a smile, her expression remaining submissive. “That was Father’s decision. I wouldn’t know.” I raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Declan. It seemed Mia did know about my father’s order banning Evelyn from returning. The bond between mother and daughter was apparently quite shallow. Mia’s gaze returned to Declan. She said pitifully, “Father, I just got home, and I’m so scared. I’d only feel safe if I had someone as strong as Declan to protect me.” The smile instantly vanished from my face, my expression darkening. 06 My father clearly doted on her, and he probably wanted to dilute my power anyway, so he readily commanded, “Then from now on, Declan will protect you.” Mia was ecstatic. “Really? That’s wonderful—” Saying that, she stepped forward, reaching out to grab Declan’s arm. I caught her wrist, my voice ice-cold: “I don’t agree.” My father froze. “What?” I stared coldly at my father, my voice even colder: “Declan is my man.” My father’s face darkened, his brows furrowing as he barked angrily, “Harper! Declan hasn’t been your personal guard for years. You don’t need him to protect you anymore! Your sister is new here. As her older sister, shouldn’t you be a little more accommodating?” “On this matter, there is no negotiation.” I refused to yield an inch. I spent years training him; I wasn’t about to hand him over to someone else. Besides, after working together for years, Declan was like my right arm. Losing him wouldn’t kill me, but it would hurt, and I didn’t like that. Especially giving him to Mia. Even setting that aside, if I handed Declan over to her now, the outside world would think I was weak and easy to bully. Then everyone would think they could walk all over me. I had no interest in letting that happen. Seeing my father furious, Mia tearfully supported his arm and said, “Sister, I know you can’t accept me, but Father makes the rules in this house. How can you be so unreasonable! Furthermore,” her gaze fell on Declan, and she continued, “even if you look down on Declan, he’s still a person. He’s not your property. We should respect his wishes.” Look down on Declan? I glanced at Declan, who was completely expressionless, and suddenly laughed. “Alright.” Mia didn’t expect me to concede. She shot me a look, then eagerly walked up to Declan, asking softly, “Declan, are you willing to follow me? I will definitely treat you well and won’t let anyone bully you.” She looked at him with eyes full of expectation, as if she were looking at her lover. Unfortunately, Declan took a resistant step back and said in a deep voice, “I only wish to follow the Young Lady.” Mia hadn’t expected to be rejected by Declan either. Her expression instantly froze on her face. Seeing this, my father glared furiously. “Declan! You dare disobey my orders?! Have you forgotten who saved you?!” But Declan didn’t hesitate, repeating his words clearly, syllable by syllable: “I, Declan, only wish to follow the Young Lady!” My father exploded in rage, smashing his wine glass violently onto the floor. “Declan—!” The glass shattered instantly, shards flying everywhere. Declan’s expression changed, and he quickly pulled me into his arms. I was completely unharmed, but Mia got cut, leaving several red lines across her pale arm. She was angry and in pain, but she didn’t dare lash out. I looked at the scratch on Declan’s cheek, my eyes churning with anger. I pushed Declan away, walked up to my father, and seeing his cold face, I was entirely unmoved. “Don’t push it too far.” My father was so angry his face twisted, his trembling finger pointing at me. “You… are you trying to stage a coup?! This is MY family!” I let out a cold laugh. My father really was getting old. He had completely lost the ability to read the room. From the affair being exposed to throwing this ridiculous banquet, he had already caused a lot of dissatisfaction. Furthermore, compared to an aging, confused boss, the syndicate wanted a sharp, capable leader. Otherwise, why would I be so fearless? I smiled faintly. “How could I? I’m your most dutiful daughter.” Saying that, I glanced up at him and sighed lightly. “Unless, of course, you piss me off.” 07 My father looked around, only to realize that my subordinates were just watching them coldly, with no intention of helping him. His face turned a mix of purple and green. Furious and humiliated, he stomped upstairs. Leaving Mia and the others behind at the banquet. I looked at her with a smile. Her eyes shot daggers of hatred and jealousy, looking like she wanted to eat me alive. Declan stepped forward, blocking her line of sight. Mia’s expression twisted slightly, and she eventually turned and left. In the car ride home, Declan frowned slightly, looking down and saying, “Miss, she’s very strange.” I was resting my head on his lap with my eyes closed. Hearing this, I opened my eyes and looked up. “Oh?” Seeing me open my eyes, Declan’s body stiffened for a second before he casually explained, “She’s very certain that you treat me terribly. And she’s approached me privately many times, telling me to leave you.” I smiled sweetly, not surprised by his sharp intuition. “Maybe she really does know something.” I closed my eyes again, enjoying his massage, thinking to myself: How interesting. It seems Mia really is the female lead from the book I read. So, was she reborn? Or did she transmigrate too? That question was answered very quickly. Mia came to find me herself. She looked at me with absolute certainty, her voice cold: “I know you’re not from this world. Let me tell you, I am the real female lead. Declan belongs to me. No matter what you do, it’s useless. And you’re definitely not my match!” “Your match?” I set down my coffee cup and said nonchalantly, “You’re not even qualified to be my opponent.” Mia’s expression shifted, and she said through gritted teeth, “Harper Vance, don’t get too arrogant! You just got here first and took the advantage. But now that I’m here, I will definitely put everything back on track! Do you really think you can change the ending?!” I looked at her coldly, not saying a word. Seeing how little I cared about her, a look of vicious hatred surfaced in Mia’s eyes. “Just you wait! Everything I’ve lost, I will take back!” I blinked and smiled faintly: “I’ll be waiting.” It seemed Mia had transmigrated too. At first, she probably thought she had the ultimate plot armor and didn’t take me seriously. But now, she was rushing over to threaten me. It seemed she realized the plot had changed, and my power wasn’t something she could easily shake. So what was she going to do? I was really looking forward to it. 08 The year I graduated, I successfully entered the corporation and became the General Manager. But in reality, I had been the one pulling the strings for a long time. The underworld. That hadn’t been sustainable in the US for years. I spent years planning the transition, legitimizing the syndicate’s operations and turning it into a publicly traded company. Now, the corporation was booming. The old gang bosses had transformed into shareholders, making a fortune every year, all legally. They didn’t have to live in constant fear like in the old days. Naturally, they supported me. As for my father, although he was still the CEO, he was a spent force. At the general shareholders’ meeting, they proposed a transfer of power for the fifth time. I looked at my father’s ashen face and smirked. As expected, right after the meeting, he came knocking. With Mia following close behind. He said in a low voice, “Harper, I’m willing to step down from the corporation, but I have one condition.” Without even looking up, I said flatly, “If it’s about making arrangements for Mia, the answer is no.” He glared at me, growling, “Do you have to back her into a corner? She’s your sister!” I stopped writing and looked up. The two of them were huddled together, leaning on each other like a pathetic pair. I smiled brilliantly. “You must be joking, Father. I barely acknowledge you, let alone a bastard child.” “Harper Vance—” My father grew even more furious. I slammed my pen onto the desk, cutting him off. “Father, I’m willing to call you Father because I don’t want to make things ugly and ruin the Vance family’s image. But,” I stared at them coldly, a hint of anger flashing in my eyes, “you should know better than anyone that when you sent hitmen to assassinate me multiple times over the past few years, whatever bond we had died.” Both of their faces changed. Mia looked at me in horror. “How did you know…” I ignored her, staring dead at my father, my voice sharp: “Father, the Vance family is no longer your absolute dictatorship. You can choose to leave with dignity, or you can be forcefully kicked out. I’m only giving you this choice once.” My father looked at me with a mix of shock and rage. I stared back without yielding an inch. After a long moment, his face turned grey, and he silently backed out of the office. Mia quickly chased after him. After they left, Declan’s eyes narrowed slightly, flashing with a dangerous, cold light: “I should have killed him! “I should kill them both!” I stood up and gently touched his face. Seeing him blush slightly, my expression softened, completely devoid of the harshness from moments ago. “Death is too easy for them. That’s not what I want.” If people don’t mess with me, I don’t mess with them. Since my father and Mia dared to provoke me repeatedly and tried to have me killed… Then they needed to be prepared to be crushed. 09 After that day, my father didn’t step down from the corporation. And I wasn’t in a hurry. Because something much more interesting was happening. “BREAKING! The Oracle Mia Invests in Shusha Pharmaceuticals! Retail Investors Follow Suit!” “Shusha Pharmaceuticals Stock Skyrockets by Hundreds of Millions in 10 Hours! Experts Warn of Risks, Advise Against Blind Following!” Mia’s name hung high on the Twitter trending page. Over the past six months, Mia had been popping up all over the internet. She frequently placed bets on the stock market, and every single time it was a massive success. The word spread quickly, and she became known as the infallible “Oracle of Wall Street.” She was now the most anticipated stock guru among retail investors. Many financial experts advised against blindly following her, but with little success. I opened the comment sections. As expected, it was full of worship for Mia and insults directed at the experts. “What garbage experts! Last time they said not to follow, and guess what? My friend made tens of millions overnight!” “These trash experts probably secretly bought the stock themselves.” “The Oracle Mia is amazing. 100% win rate. I’d be an idiot to listen to these fake experts.” Many reporters rushed over, fighting to interview Mia. “Ms. Vance, we heard you invested in Shusha Pharmaceuticals this time, and a massive number of investors have followed your lead. Do you have anything to say?” Mia curled her lips, brimming with confidence. “Thank you to the investors for their trust. The outcome this time will definitely make everyone even more satisfied.” Her absolute certainty sparked even more frantic discussion among her rabid fans. I turned off the TV, smiling comfortably. “I like her confidence.” “Shusha Pharmaceuticals does have a lot of room for growth. It’s a guaranteed win this time.” Declan scrolled through the live stock market feed on his tablet, looking up at me. “Miss, should we release the information we’ve gathered?” I waved my hand. “Wait a little longer.” Wait until it gets really fun. 10 Unsurprisingly, after one cycle, Shusha Pharmaceuticals’ stock skyrocketed, becoming a massive dark horse. The investors who followed Mia made a killing, while those who didn’t were beating their chests in regret. The Oracle Mia’s reputation reached its zenith overnight, even surpassing A-list celebrities. Many interviews and reports scrambled to invite her on. On a reality TV show, Mia looked like she was about to cry, whispering pitifully, “My sister asked me before who I was going to invest in next. She looked so scary at the time, I didn’t dare say it. I didn’t expect her to threaten me into only telling her my investment picks. I didn’t want to leave my father…” Overnight, the entire internet was flooded with attacks against the Vance Corporation and me: “SHOCKING! Vance Family Scandal Exposed: Eldest Daughter Usurps CEO For Years!” “Harper Vance Threatens The Oracle, Forcing Her Out Of The Family Unless She Stops Publicly Sharing Stock Tips!” I didn’t have the PR department suppress the information. Instead, I sat back and watched the rumors spread. I even voluntarily accepted an interview with a reporter. “Ms. Vance, do you have anything to say about the situation online? Did you threaten The Oracle into not sharing her investment information?” I nodded. “Yes, I did say that.” “Are you trying to keep the profits all to yourself?” “Keep the profits to myself?” I shot the reporter a sideways glance, sneering disdainfully. “What a joke. Since when has the Vance family ever cared about pocket change?” The reporter froze, his face flushing with embarrassment. The Vance Corporation was a massive publicly traded company. Why would they care about a few million dollars in minor assets? I looked around, my expression serious. “The stock market is unstable. Investments require caution. Once retail investors flood frantically into a single stock, it inevitably destroys the market’s equilibrium. In extreme cases, it can cause the market to crash. Do you all really want to experience another economic bubble?” “This…” The financial reporters present looked at each other, unable to find words to argue back. I continued, “In my opinion, blindly following trends is stupid. Being so certain about winning in the stock market that it causes mass herding is even more stupid. I merely warned her as her older sister and as a participant in the market. You can listen if you want, or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me.” With that, I prepared to leave. But an entertainment reporter blocked me, asking urgently, “What about the rumors of you usurping power? Why doesn’t the second daughter have a position in the corporation? Wasn’t she maliciously driven out by you?” I turned back, facing the camera, and smiled contemptuously. “Does an illegitimate child deserve to enter the corporation?” With one sentence, I completely exposed Mia’s identity. But it enraged Mia’s rabid fans in the crowd. They charged at me, brandishing knives. “Don’t you dare slander our Oracle! Go to hell!” Declan’s eyes flashed. With one kick, he sent the attacker flying several feet away. The bodyguards instantly swarmed in, pinning the attackers to the ground. I didn’t even spare them a glance, turning and leaving with Declan.

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