Category: English

One minute after my childhood sweetheart broke up with me, he publicly announced his relationship with a student from a low-income background on social media. He claimed that Eleanor suffered from depression, and once he helped her become as bright as I was, he would reconcile with me. Eleanor used his phone to assert her dominance: “Thanks for taking care of my boyfriend before. We need to keep our distance from now on.” I scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping me. It took me only thirty seconds to get my mom to cut off her financial support. 1 My mom informed the school she would be discontinuing Eleanor’s scholarship. She immediately notified Adam’s father. The engagement between our families was off. At the same time, Eleanor’s best friend sent me a video of Adam and Eleanor getting intimate. In the video, Adam, visibly tipsy, was kissing a flushed Eleanor, his arm around her. Someone nearby, enjoying the spectacle, called out: “Adam, aren’t you worried about Alice getting upset?” Adam cupped Eleanor’s face, licking her lips with an undeniable desire. “Nah, she’s easy to appease.” “We grew up together; I know her inside and out.” “She’s also just… so inconsiderate, always coming first, costing Eleanor her scholarship. I’m just teaching her a lesson.” I let out a cold laugh. So that’s what he really thought of me. Adam continued: “Besides, I’m bored. Goody-two-shoes, so old-fashioned, wouldn’t even let me hold her hand. It’s honestly so dull.” “The thought of getting engaged to her after graduation, being tied down, makes me sick to my stomach.” Adam made a disgusted face. Eleanor quickly snuggled against his chest. “I’m not like her. You can touch me anywhere, but only you, darling.” Adam burst into laughter, tightening his arm around Eleanor’s waist. “I like a girl with some spice, like Eleanor.” “As for Alice, whoever wants her can have her. I certainly don’t!” I could barely suppress the nausea churning in my gut. Then, from the video, a lazy voice spoke up. “Well, in that case, I’m going to pursue her.” It was Jerry Voss. Our class president, who had always shared the top spot with me. 2 Adam’s face instantly darkened. Eleanor blinked her eyes, tugging his hand. Adam let out a strange, dismissive snort. “Go ahead, but she’s been in love with me for over ten years, been desperate for me countless times. I’m utterly sick of it.” “She’s a loyal woman, guarding her purity for me.” Jerry Voss chuckled noncommittally. He picked up his school jacket, revealing a clean, long hand with an expensive watch on his wrist. “I’m leaving.” His gaze swept over Adam and Eleanor, who were tightly embracing, with a hint of disdain. “Adam, remember what you just said. Don’t regret it later.” “I won’t back down.” Adam’s face was grim, the desire that Eleanor had stirred in his eyes now completely gone. “I’ve said it before, Alice loves me to death. I just have to snap my fingers, and she’ll come crawling back.” Eleanor’s eyes instantly welled up, and Adam quickly added, “But, I’m happy to let you have a go. She’s just a lapdog, and I have plenty of those.” At this, his friends roared with laughter. “Adam’s not wrong, Alice is totally a lapdog.” “Which game did she not excitedly bring a case of water to? Which party did she not rush to pay for?” “The more girls are like that, the cheaper they are.” The video ended there, showing only a faint shadow of Jerry Voss raising his foot towards Adam. 3 Lost in thought, my phone vibrated. It was a message from Eleanor’s best friend. [Feeling very sad and angry, aren’t you? I advise you to give up on Adam as soon as possible. For a lapdog like you, men will only find you cheap.] [Jerry Voss seems to like you quite a bit. You two are both bookworms, quite a good match.] I suspected Eleanor herself had sent this from her best friend’s phone. She often did things like that. She used to send me messages from Adam’s phone. Sometimes, she’d deliberately send ambiguous messages to make Adam and I argue, then feign illness so Adam would go comfort her. But now, none of that mattered to me. I’m very open to advice. A man who’s been soiled, might as well be thrown away. I also thought Jerry and I were a perfect match, both in intelligence and family background. [Why aren’t you replying, Alice? Are you mad to death? (Hand over mouth emoji)] Uh, not really. I was pretty angry at first. I mean, extremely angry. Because my family is old money, really old money. I don’t have autonomy in dating. I can only choose a future spouse from families of equal standing. But I’m not particularly stunning in appearance. Especially compared to other daughters from similar backgrounds. Honestly, the competition is brutal. Adam was one of the better-looking ones among my choices. But! Compared to Jerry Voss. There was absolutely no comparison. Jerry Voss was taller, handsomer, and smarter than him. He was a triple threat. With a better option now, what did I have to be sad about? Sadness only comes from not getting the best! 4 After showing my mom the video Eleanor’s best friend sent me, my mom was furious, wanting to confront Adam’s family, but I stopped her. I pointed at Jerry Voss in the video, my eyes sparkling. “I like him.” My mom was silent for a moment, looking at my unremarkable features behind my thick-rimmed glasses. “He’s too… captivating. While his family matches, you—” I raised my hands in surrender, asserting indignantly. “A toad that doesn’t want to eat swan is not a good toad!” “But on the other hand, he’s still young, hasn’t seen the world yet. This is your chance.” My mom patted my shoulder. “To improve the next generation’s genes, you have to work hard.” “All your mom can do is improve our family status.” I recalled my dad’s somewhat plain face. Silence… 5 I stayed up all night, memorizing everything I’d paid a high price to find out about Jerry Voss. For a straight-A student like me, being able to recite it backwards after two reads was basic. The next morning, for the first time, I didn’t wait for Adam to go to school together. Through the security camera, I saw Adam frowning, waiting outside my front door. Impatiently, he spoke into the video doorbell. “Alice, you have three minutes. If you’re not ready, don’t bother coming out.” Speechless. I ignored him. Now that the engagement between our families was off, my housekeeper and the maids didn’t have much patience for him either. “Alice has already left.” Adam’s face instantly darkened. He threw the breakfast he had brought for Eleanor onto the ground. The milk bottle smashed with a thunk, spilling milk everywhere. Why didn’t I think it was for me? Because he never brought me anything; I always brought things to him. Our maid was furious. “I just swept this floor, what’s wrong with you?!” “How dare you speak to me like that? Believe it or not, I’ll have Alice fire you!” The maid rolled her eyes. “Your engagement is off, and the collaboration between the Summer and Evans families has ended. You should leave.” “This is just Alice throwing a tantrum. I’ll smooth things over, and our engagement will never be called off.” Adam walked away with a dark expression. Adam and I were desk partners. When I arrived at school, Eleanor was sitting in my seat. My books were all placed on the teacher’s desk. She smiled at me. “Alice, I want to sit with Adam. We’re in the honeymoon phase right now.” “Didn’t godmother say to let me have my way a bit? Please, sister, grant Adam and me our private world.” “You don’t want people to call you a third wheel, do you?” It seemed she didn’t know yet that my mom had stopped funding her. I had originally intended to lose my temper and yell at her. But then I caught a glimpse of Jerry Voss behind me. The seat next to him had been empty for years. Instantly, I became a drama queen. Showtime! 6 My eyes were red-rimmed, and I stood there in a daze, not knowing what to do. Jerry Voss walked in, picked up my books from the teacher’s desk, and told me, “Alice, come here.” I followed behind him, watching as he placed my books next to him. My heart instantly fluttered. Manga plot come to life. So thrilling… I shouldn’t have watched so much anime. It’s making my brain a little scrambled… I suppressed my shyness and said, choked with emotion, “Class President, thank you.” “I didn’t eat breakfast. If you really want to thank me, bring me some breakfast when you go get yours.” “I stayed up all night doing practice tests, so I’m really sleepy now and want to catch some Z’s.” Huh??? So he’s not the shy type, but the jealous type. He must have seen that I used to go get breakfast every morning and bring some back for Adam, and now he wants that too. I nodded repeatedly. “Okay, okay!” I’ll definitely spread my favors equally. No! Given that he’s more than a little better looking than Adam. I’ll definitely favor him more. It wasn’t until I got to the breakfast spot that I realized I hadn’t asked Jerry what he wanted. I found his contact information in the class group chat and added him. I wrote in the note: [Class President, what would you like to eat?] Then, while slurping my noodles, I waited for him to accept my request. I’m a genius. This was truly an excellent and not at all awkward reason to get his contact information. Jerry Voss quickly accepted my friend request and replied. I looked at his message, a little puzzled. Why were all his choices things Adam disliked? And each one was precisely a “landmine” for Adam. Things Adam had repeatedly warned me not to buy for him, and even forbade me from eating. Though I never listened to him, always indulging myself. On my way back after buying Jerry’s breakfast, I ran into Adam’s best friend, the one who had mocked me as a lapdog in the video. He was overly enthusiastic, greeting me with a big grin. “Hey, Alice, is that for Adam?” He pulled out his phone, quickly took a picture, and sent it to Adam’s group chat. I didn’t need to imagine how they would mock me. But I had no intention of stopping him. I desperately needed these cannon fodder to act as a catalyst, igniting Jerry Voss’s protective instincts and making him take the initiative with me. I gave the cannon fodder a smile in return and walked on. At the classroom door, Adam was already there, chatting and laughing with Eleanor in his seat. He seemed to be in a very good mood. A completely different person from when he walked out of my house, as seen on the security footage. He saw me, leaned back in his chair, and smirked at me idly. “You bought it back. I’m hungry too.” Jerry Voss, who had been napping at his desk, also sat up. His seat was diagonally behind Adam’s. I bit my lip, deliberately avoiding Adam’s gaze, and walked silently with my head down. As I passed Adam, he reached out to take the breakfast from my hand. I suddenly quickened my pace, went and sat down next to Jerry Voss. I placed the breakfast on his desk, and even pulled out a warm carton of milk from my pocket. “Eat it while it’s hot. I really like these too.” “Our tastes are surprisingly similar, Class President.” Jerry Voss smiled, while Adam froze, the smile on his lips stiffening. His fair-weather friends, who had been watching the show, also looked rigid. “Alice, that’s not for Adam, is it?” I said softly but firmly. “He has a girlfriend. Why would I bring him anything? And our engagement is off; we cut ties a long time ago.” This was an elite private school. Aside from those sent abroad by their families, all the heirs and heiresses from our social circles attended this school. Some were low-key about their status, others high-profile. But the impending marriage alliance between the Summer and Evans families was widely known. As my words fell, I noticed Jerry Voss’s lips curving into a pleased smile in my peripheral vision. Adam, however, looked terrifyingly pale. He glared at me coldly. “Alice, don’t you dare regret this.” “I, Adam Evans, don’t take back dogs who betray their masters. Even if you come begging, we’re over.” I snapped back. “You’re the dog, a dog in heat chasing after everyone.”

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My best friend was a bohemian soul, a girl who claimed to breathe only for freedom. After getting pregnant by a billionaire CEO, she insisted on running away to hide the baby. I urged her to stay. Her tone was ice-cold. “I refuse to be a man’s plaything. Give me liberty, or give me death.” But she had no idea how brutal life was for a single mother. She didn’t know that in the real world, ruthless billionaires don’t drop to their knees to grovel for a runaway lover. In our last life, I couldn’t bear to see her suffer. I talked until my throat bled, convincing her to stay. The CEO didn’t hesitate to put a ring on her finger. Yet, even draped in diamonds, she still acted like a tragic bird in a gilded cage. She threw constant tantrums. She staged elaborate suicide attempts to test his love. Eventually, she set the mansion on fire. As the flames roared, she was carried out safely. I was the collateral damage left behind to burn. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day she decided to run away. 1 “Riley, stop trying to talk me out of it. I’ve made up my mind.” “I won’t be Victor’s little canary. There’s no freedom in that house.” “I’m going to Europe. I’ll raise this baby on my own.” Standing outside the private clinic, my best friend Daphne faced me. She looked down, gently resting a hand on her perfectly flat stomach. Her eyes were distant, carrying that signature aloofness she wore like a crown. The doctor had just confirmed she was three months pregnant. The father was my boss. She could have easily used this child to secure her place in high society. Instead, her very first instinct was to run. In my past life and this one, I could never wrap my head around her logic. Was a life of absolute luxury by a billionaire’s side really that terrible? Why was she so desperate to go starve in a foreign country? She was soft, incapable of heavy lifting, and completely unequipped for the real world. Surviving alone abroad would be a nightmare. More importantly, she had no passport, no visa, and couldn’t speak a word of a foreign language. Even buying groceries would be a struggle. In my last life, I laid all these harsh truths out for her. It only fueled her stubbornness. “I’ll find a way. I know people who can get me across the border unnoticed.” “Once I’m there, I’ll wash dishes. I’ll support myself.” “You care too much about money, Riley. You’ll never understand. Even if I die in the gutters of a foreign street, I will never be his caged pet. Give me liberty, or give me death!” Back then, my head throbbed watching her play the misunderstood heroine. I begged and pleaded until she finally agreed to stay with Victor Sinclair. Victor didn’t want the mother of his child to suffer any indignity. He married her immediately. After she gave birth, he even stepped back from his empire, spending months solely focused on her and the baby. To the outside world, she was living a fairy tale. But it was never enough for her. She spent her days weeping by the window, complaining to anyone who would listen that she had no freedom. When she got bored, she started playing with death. Slashing her wrists. Swallowing pills. Threatening to jump from the balcony. She was saved every single time. Until one evening, she insisted I cook her favorite meal. While I was in the third floor prep kitchen preparing her specialized dietary plan, she set the house ablaze. The rescue team arrived and pulled her out immediately. I was trapped. A burning beam from the ceiling collapsed, crushing my skull. I blacked out. Later, as a ghost hovering in the smoke filled air, I saw Daphne sitting safely on the grass, looking utterly bored with the world. When the firefighters asked if anyone else was inside, she kept her mouth shut. She stared blankly ahead as if she had no earthly tethers left. She knew exactly where I was. One word from her, and they would have rushed up to save me. But she said nothing. She just watched the crew spray water onto the inferno, layer by layer. By the time they found me, I was nothing but ash. Now, the smell of suffocating smoke still felt raw in my throat as I blinked and stared at her face. “Riley? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Daphne waved a hand in front of my eyes, waiting for my usual panicked response. I took a deep, shaky breath, forcing the violent tremors in my hands to stop. Since she loved freedom so much, fine. This time, I wouldn’t stand in her way. I looked her dead in the eye and spoke slowly. “It’s your life. You have to make your own choices. I can’t decide for you.” “I knew you wouldn’t understand… wait, what?” Daphne choked on her words. A flash of genuine shock broke through her icy facade. The self righteous speech she had prepared died in her throat. “You aren’t going to try and stop me?” I couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh. “Why would I waste my breath? You’re an adult. If you want to leave, who am I to tie you down?” Go ahead, Daphne. I really wanted to see how a girl who hadn’t even finished high school was going to conquer the world abroad. 2 “So, when are you leaving?” I asked. Victor was due back from his business trip in three days. If she didn’t run now, she’d miss her window. She tilted her chin up, her gaze drifting to the sky. “There is no rush. I need to make some preparations.” Daphne’s idea of “preparations” was packing up every single item she owned in the mansion. Well, almost everything. She deliberately left behind a few pieces of her most intimate lingerie. A silk nightgown tucked into the corner of his study. A lace bralette draped near the dressing room door. A delicate slip left in the private gym. Places where Victor’s hands would naturally graze. It was a calculated setup, designed to make him ache with longing every time he saw them. “I’ve sorted everything. I might have left a few things behind. Victor will probably just throw them away when he sees them.” She feigned complete indifference, shrugging her shoulders. Finally, the day before Victor’s return, Daphne headed to the docks. Her grand plan to go abroad was paying a shady fixer to sneak her onto an unregistered cargo ship. When I found out, I was speechless. She stood by the pier holding a tiny, vintage leather suitcase, wearing a pristine white floral dress, waving goodbye to me as the sea breeze caught her hair. It looked like a beautifully framed shot from a romance movie. A second later, a massive, sweaty dockworker shoved his way into the frame, glaring at her. “You’re wearing that fancy crap to squeeze into a shipping container? It smells like rotting fish and piss in there. A fragile little thing like you won’t last a day.” Daphne raised her chin even higher. Her voice was crystal clear. “For the sake of my soul’s freedom, physical hardship means nothing.” The worker rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. “Sneaking out on a freighter for freedom. Chick’s got rocks in her head.” He was right. By choosing this dark, illegal route, she was condemning herself to live like a rat in the shadows. But she clearly had no concept of the brutal reality awaiting her. Just before boarding, she played her final dramatic card. “Take this black card back to Victor for me. Make sure you tell him that a free spirit can never be bought with money…” Before she could finish her monologue, I snatched the sleek metal card right out of her fingers. “The ship is leaving. Text me if you have anything else to say.” Daphne’s hand froze mid air. She stared at her empty fingers, then up at me. Her expression cracked, looking genuinely bewildered for a split second. She definitely didn’t expect me to take the card so easily. In the past, terrified she would starve, I would have begged her to keep it. She forced a stiff smile. “I guess… I really am leaving now.” She kept looking back over her shoulder as she walked up the ramp. I ignored her theatrical lingering. I turned on my heel and walked away fast, terrified she might actually change her mind and chase after me. The next day, Victor returned from his trip. I prepared his customized nutritional dinner, just like always. Casually, I mentioned that Daphne had packed up and left. Victor sliced his steak. His expression didn’t even flicker. In my previous life, once he knew about the pregnancy, he instantly dragged her to meet his parents and gave her his name. This time, hearing she had abandoned him, he didn’t lift a finger to chase her. That was Victor Sinclair. If you were his woman, he would drown you in wealth and luxury. But the moment you decided to walk away, he wouldn’t even blink. As his private nutritionist for the past five years, I knew exactly how he operated. Daphne was just too blind to see it. 3 The intimate items Daphne left behind were found by the housekeeper within two days. They went straight into the trash. The limited edition silk slip was the only exception. The housekeeper was too afraid to toss something so expensive and brought it to Victor for instructions. Victor was reviewing a stack of contracts. He didn’t even look up. “If it’s garbage, throw it out.” There was zero lingering affection. Zero heartache. Daphne’s pathetic little mind games were tossed out with yesterday’s trash. A few days later, a new face appeared at the estate. Her name was Stella. She was vibrant, radiant, and the exact opposite of Daphne. She loved to talk. Wherever Victor went, she followed, chattering away with a bright smile. And Victor, a man notoriously obsessed with absolute silence, never once looked annoyed. He never had this much patience with Daphne in my last life. I couldn’t help but root for them. That was when Daphne made her first overseas call. “Riley, how is Victor holding up? Is he going crazy looking for me?” “You have to swear you won’t tell him where I am. Promise me.” I glanced toward the living room, where Victor was chuckling at something Stella said. I decided to be honest. “You don’t need to worry. He’s busy entertaining a new woman. He doesn’t have time to look for you.” Dead silence on the other end. Then, a soft, dismissive scoff. “Heh. I’ve only been gone a week, and he’s already desperately searching for a replacement?” Before I could speak, she kept going. “Does she look like me? Is it the eyes? Or the way she smiles?” “Victor is just trying to distract himself. Give it three days. He’ll be sick of her.” I didn’t have the energy to argue. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say.” Satisfied, she hung up. But three days passed, and then another three. Stella was still practically living at the mansion. Even the heavy curtains in the master suite were swapped out for a bright, sunny fabric she preferred. Every last trace of Daphne was being systematically scrubbed clean, replaced by vibrant colors. When Daphne called again, I was preparing afternoon tea for Victor and Stella. Stella’s infectious laughter echoed clearly through the phone’s receiver. Daphne paused. Her voice carried a faint, barely disguised edge of panic. “That replacement is still there?” My stomach tightened. Was Daphne going to change her mind and come back to fight for her spot? “Victor is so childish. Does he really think parading another woman around will force me back?” “I am a wild hawk. I belong to the sky. I won’t clip my own wings just to orbit a man like those pathetic girls.” Exhale. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. For a second there, I thought she had actually grown a brain. Luckily, she was still choking on her own ego. I relaxed completely. I had zero intention of telling her that Stella wasn’t a replacement at all. She was Victor’s first love. I had only just found out myself. Victor and Stella had dated in college but were forced apart because their family backgrounds didn’t match at the time. Stella was sent abroad to study by the Sinclair family. They had been separated for seven years. In the previous life, by the time Stella returned, Victor was already married to Daphne. Because of his sense of duty, he kept his distance. Stella, having fierce boundaries of her own, never crossed the line. There wasn’t a hint of infidelity. But this time, there was no Daphne in the way. I knew it was only a matter of time before they rekindled the flame. Blissfully unaware, Daphne remained convinced that Victor couldn’t breathe without her. Her tone shifted back to that annoying, airy arrogance. “Tell that poor girl not to get her hopes up.” “I don’t mean any harm. As a fellow woman, I just pity her. What’s the point of being someone’s shadow? She should leave before she gets her heart broken.” 4 I reached out to Brooke, an old friend who ran a restaurant in Europe, and asked her to keep tabs on Daphne. Daphne was an undocumented immigrant with no working papers. With her complete lack of skills, the only job she could possibly land was scrubbing dishes in an underground kitchen. The expat community is small. As long as Daphne walked into a restaurant in that district, word would reach me. Until Victor and Stella were officially locked in, I needed to make sure Daphne stayed far, far away. For the next few days, Daphne didn’t call. Instead, she was busy curating her social media feed, posting aesthetic collages of her new European life. She always idolized everything foreign, convinced the air overseas was somehow purer. Mutual friends flooded the comments with envy. [Wow! Did you move abroad for work?] [Just starting a new chapter, nothing major.] [What kind of work?] [Oh, just diving into the culinary industry.] [That’s amazing! You must be managing a high end bistro! I have to visit you!] [Stop, it’s just a little passion project.] She deflected the questions flawlessly, keeping up her humble, artsy persona. But reading those replies now, the suffocating stench of her vanity was overwhelming. Not long after, Brooke called with an update. She sounded entirely baffled. “Riley, did you really grow up in the same foster home as this girl?” “She is completely useless. She shatters plates, leaves grease on the pans, and complains about the water ruining her hands. She’s been fired from three different places in under a month.” “No one in the district wants to hire her anymore.” Exactly as expected. We did grow up in the foster system together, but she always acted like a deposed princess. She refused to lift a finger, playing the delicate flower while I fought our battles and handled the dirty work. Her entire life had been shielded from consequence. She was basically a spoiled aristocrat without the trust fund. That was why I fought so hard to stop her in our last life. I knew she couldn’t handle the grind. Without Victor’s money and my constant care, she would drown. And here she was, sinking fast. Brooke had a soft heart. She couldn’t stomach the thought of a pregnant woman sleeping on the streets, so she offered Daphne a lifeline. “I took her in as a waitress. She’s over six months pregnant. If I don’t give her a shot, she won’t survive the winter here.” Waitressing was miles better than slaving away in a dish pit, and she could actually earn tips. I didn’t object, but I gave Brooke a strict warning. “Do not tell her we know each other.” Dying and coming back to life had opened my eyes. Daphne was a parasite who only drained the people closest to her. If she knew Brooke was my friend, she would milk her dry. Meanwhile, back at the estate, Victor and Stella’s romance was brewing. But it was agonizingly slow. It had been over a month, and they were still in the hand holding phase. Neither wanted to cross the line first. If they weren’t in a rush, I was! So, on a perfectly quiet evening, I orchestrated a breathtakingly romantic candlelight dinner on the terrace. Maybe it was the expensive vintage wine. Maybe the moonlight was just right. That night, Stella pulled Victor into the master bedroom by his tie, and the door didn’t open until late the next morning. The ship had finally sailed!

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Five years into our marriage, my wife’s assistant, Evan, posted a screenshot on social media of a transfer of 521,314 dollars. The caption read: “Having a CEO big sister like this makes work so sweet!” I had just commented, “Work hard,” when I realized my account had been blocked by him. My wife called, launching into a furious tirade. “I just advanced an employee a bonus for his birthday, why would you message him and yell at him? My leniency isn’t a license for your unreasonable behavior!” Through the phone, I clearly heard the entire company comforting Evan and his feigned strong sigh. Before I could explain, the call was cut off and I was blocked. Immediately after, the assistant ostentatiously posted another photo of a million-dollar transfer. I knew that was Willow’s compensation to him. But this time, I didn’t care anymore. 1. When Willow stepped through the door, I had just tossed out the empty container of cheap takeout. After the removal of a malignant tumor in my stomach, the doctor said I needed to eat bland food this month, but I hadn’t listened to the advice. Simply because it was our fifth wedding anniversary, I had checked out of the hospital early to come home. I had even booked a hotel, intending to have a candlelight dinner with her. I had waited all day for her to reply to my messages. If I hadn’t seen Evan’s social media post and received that phone call just before leaving, I would probably still be sitting in the hotel like an idiot. Willow glanced at the empty dining table as she entered, her brows furrowing with displeasure. “Not cooking tonight?” I nodded calmly, my fingers scrolling on my phone screen. “You already ate out.” In the past, no matter how busy I was with work, I would always come home early to prepare dinner for her. If her brow so much as creased, I felt like the sky was falling. A humble posture inevitably fails to win equal love, a truth I unfortunately only understood now. Willow didn’t even notice my unusual behavior. She walked directly up to me and opened the packaged cake in her hand. “I specifically brought this for you. It’s almost our anniversary, right? You don’t even like sweets, so this is just a gesture.” Soon, a cake that had clearly been picked over appeared before me. Its indentations and small holes showed where several pieces of fruit had once been, now scooped out. She never knew that I disliked sweets. Yet, I cherished the small cakes for each of our anniversaries, because they symbolized our happiness. The cakes she would taste and then declare unfit to eat for the past few years had all ended up in my stomach. But this time, I merely glanced at it before my attention returned to my phone. She was surprised by my cold attitude, and her brows furrowed impatiently. “Chris, what is your problem? I went all that way to bring this back for you, and now you’re starting another fuss? Is this never going to end?” “I don’t want things others have touched. I find them dirty.” As I spoke, her phone chimed with a message notification. Willow looked down, a barely perceptible smile playing on her lips. I didn’t need to guess who the message was from. When she looked up, her expression was cold, yet her eyes held a hint of delight. “Fine, fine, I’ll go buy you a new one, okay? You don’t even like sweets, what’s there to be picky about? I’m so busy with work, and I come home to your cold face. I must owe you something!” With that, she turned to leave the house. I remembered I had been too hasty checking out of the hospital today and hadn’t picked up my medication yet. So I also stood up to change my shoes and followed her out. Meeting Willow’s subtly irritated gaze, I said in a low voice: “You go buy things, drop me off at the pharmacy along the way. I need to pick up some medicine.” At this, she bristled like a porcupine, instantly becoming wary. “You’re following me to buy a cake? Are you sick? Why don’t you just tie a leash around my neck?” I understood her annoyance. In the past, whenever she went out at night, I would always ask endless questions, uneasy. But this time, she was really overthinking it. I sighed and explained, “There’s a pharmacy just a block from the apartment. You can just drop me off there; I have no interest in stalking you.” As soon as I got in the car, I saw her hastily ordering a blueberry cake online. Perhaps she had forgotten that, initially, she was the one who loved rituals, saying every anniversary needed cake and candles. I fulfilled her requests every year, but in the end, it became a burden for her. At the pharmacy entrance, I got out directly. Behind me, her eyes showed a hint of surprise. When she spoke, her earlier rage was gone. “Wait for me here after you’re done, I’ll pick you up.” As she finished speaking, her car sped past me, splashing mud on my legs. I irritably wiped it off twice and walked into the pharmacy. After buying my medicine, I waited outside for two hours. My body gradually stiffened, but I didn’t see a trace of her. A sudden clap of thunder in the night sky startled me awake. Before I could even hail a taxi, a downpour drenched me completely. Remembering the doctor’s warnings, the incision in my abdomen throbbed faintly. I quickened my pace, running into a convenience store to buy an umbrella. But it was still too late. A cramping pain in my stomach made me involuntarily crouch on the ground, utterly pathetic. If not for a passing car spotting me and kindly taking me back to the apartment, I would probably have ended up in an ambulance. Back home, I had just dried myself and disinfected the incision. After taking my medicine, Willow slammed the door shut, making a deafening sound. “Why didn’t you tell me you were back? Do you know how many times I circled in the downpour? I looked for you for a whole hour! Is it fun to mess with me?” 2. The movement of me putting down my water glass halted. My face was utterly perplexed. She had blocked my number; now she was blaming me for not contacting her? I had waited two hours, and I had just gotten home, yet she claimed to have looked for me for an hour? I couldn’t be bothered to expose her lie. My face darkened, and I said coldly, “For me to contact you, you’d have to unblock me first.” At that, she pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath to quell her anger. She walked into the living room and placed the cake, soaked by the rain and stripped of its packaging, in front of me. “It’s too late; they didn’t have any packaging left. I had to go to quite a few shops to find this.” My gaze fell upon the matcha cake, and I felt only exhaustion from her string of clumsy lies. Forget it, I don’t even like sweets anyway. Stripped of its meaning, the cake’s cloying sweetness was nauseating. On my phone screen was Evan’s latest social media post, a photo of a blueberry cake. The caption read: “I don’t like sweets, but I like sweet you.” I felt a sarcastic laugh bubble up, but I had no strength to pull back my lips. A mouthful of words reached my tongue, only to be reduced to: “Hmm, thanks for the trouble. Throw it away.” Her features abruptly contorted, her eyes red with rage. “Are you sick?! I ran all over the place for you, and you tell me to throw it away?” “Are you playing me like a dog? Is this because I advanced an employee’s salary today? How long are you going to keep this up? I’m the boss, don’t I have that right? I haven’t even settled the score with you for privately messaging him and yelling at him, and now you’re getting all high and mighty!” I reached up and pressed my throbbing head, dulled and aching from the rain. I spoke weakly, “You’re overthinking it. I truly didn’t mean that, nor was there any need, nor did I have the time. At that moment, I was—” Mid-sentence, she interrupted furiously: “Enough! Stop talking! You’re always like this. I’ve never seen a man so jealous. Can’t you spend this time focusing on your career? Your heart is as small as a needle’s eye, it’s disgusting! Marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life!” In the past, I had countless arguments with her over such trivial matters. Humble and desperate, I longed to hear her say she would only love me. But now, I no longer thought that way. We were both adults; if love needed constant questioning, did it still have a purpose? I knew she wouldn’t believe me if I said I wasn’t making a fuss, so I simply said, “If that’s what you want to believe, there’s nothing I can do.” This was the first time in five years that I chose to deal with things coldly. With that, I stood up and walked directly towards the bedroom. She ignored me, throwing the cake on the table into the trash can before sitting down to scroll on her phone. From time to time, stifled laughter escaped her. Then she went to the bathroom, seemingly busy on the phone. I rearranged a set of bedding and moved it to the second bedroom, bumping directly into Willow as she emerged from the bathroom. Her impatient gaze fell on my hands, her lips tightly pressed. After enduring for a while, she finally said angrily, “What do you mean? You want to sleep in separate beds?” “I haven’t even complained about you looking greasy in middle age, what are you fussing about with me? Do you still think you’re Chris Zhang, the campus heartthrob from your early twenties? There are tons of young, fresh faces out there!” “If you can’t sleep, don’t send me messages!” I didn’t reply to her, walking into the second bedroom on my own. The act of moving the bedding pulled at my surgical wound, twisting my face in pain. Every night in the past, when she didn’t come home, I would toss and turn, unable to sleep. I’d call her, send her messages, only for her to slam a bottle of sleeping pills in front of me the next day. Later, I got used to taking medication to sleep. But I never expected that this time, fearing drug interactions might affect wound recovery, I would fall asleep naturally and soundly. What I once thought was insurmountable now seemed not so difficult when I looked back. After searching all day, I finally contacted a reliable divorce lawyer. Meanwhile, Willow’s company account posted a celebration video. In the video, someone raised a champagne bottle. As the liquid sprayed into the air, Willow was firmly shielded behind Evan, the man’s back soaked. Evan’s jacket looked remarkably familiar; upon closer inspection, I realized it was a gift she had given me last year for our wedding anniversary. Now, the gift no longer belonged to me, and neither did she. 3. Just as I was about to turn off my phone, Willow called. “I sent you the address. I’ll pick you up in a bit; there’s a surprise.” A sarcastic smile played on my lips; she had given me enough surprises already. Before I could refuse, she hung up. I didn’t expect to be unblocked by her before the divorce. While I took some medicine and disinfected my wound, Willow’s car had already pulled up downstairs. I received her message and went out wearing casual sportswear. Willow’s smiling gaze unexpectedly fell on my unshaven face, and instantly turned cold. “Aren’t you going to clean yourself up or change clothes? Are you deliberately trying to embarrass me? Look in the mirror, what’s the difference between you and a homeless man right now?” As she spoke, Evan in the passenger seat, wearing the suit Willow had once custom-made for me, rolled down the window. A youthful, flamboyant face appeared. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Willow, I forgot to inform Chris… I couldn’t reach him.” Remembering my blocked account, I smiled nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Given our relationship, I don’t think my appearance affects you anymore.” “Besides, having such a young and handsome assistant is proof enough of your capabilities.” Willow’s scolding words were choked back in her throat. I glanced at Evan in the passenger seat. Seeing no intention of him moving, I simply got into the back. Along the way, Evan enthusiastically chatted with me, constantly talking about the birthday celebration the company employees held for him. His tone was full of regret. “Chris, if only you had been there, I really wanted you to see how much Ms. Willow dotes on her employees! I’m so envious of you!” Willow’s face was grim. She tried to speak to me several times, but I simply ignored her. At the hotel, Evan got out of the car and walked directly to Willow’s side. I glanced at them, then followed behind. The waitstaff all assumed they were a couple. Willow started to explain, then her gaze fell on my weary face behind her, and she ultimately remained silent. Her expression was comically amusing. The company employees were all crowded at the elevator entrance, waiting. When the elevator doors opened, seeing Willow and Evan standing in front, everyone’s expressions froze. A hint of awkwardness flashed across their faces. Old Mr. Wang, a company shareholder and my close college friend, quickly spoke up when he saw the situation: “Mr. Zhang, you’re finally here! If it weren’t for you brokering this project, it wouldn’t have been signed! Today, our entire company owes you a big thank you!” I knew he was trying to save face for me. So I smiled gratefully, “What ‘Mr. So-and-so’? Who knows what position I’ll be in when I come back from overseas.” At that, Willow, who had been walking ahead, suddenly stopped. She turned, her brows furrowed, her gaze full of questions. “Overseas? You’re going abroad? How come I don’t know? When did I agree to this?”

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At my father’s funeral, my fiancé proposed to my father’s illegitimate daughter, projecting a video of their passionate affair for all to see. I became a laughingstock, a disgrace to the city’s entire elite circle. In the midst of my fury, my fiancé’s older brother, Sebastian Beaumont, appeared. He had them both removed from the grounds, then knelt before me on one knee. He proposed, promising to be my rock, to shield me from the world. I said yes. Three years after my father passed, just one week before our wedding, I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his lawyer. “Mr. Beaumont, there are other ways to acquire the Ashford assets. Is it not too risky to marry Adelaide Ashford just to reclaim her inheritance for Miss Isla? Why sacrifice yourself?” “Marriage is the only way Adelaide will let her guard down. All Isla wants is to inherit the Ashford legacy rightfully. It’s a small price to pay. For her, I’d do anything.” So, what I thought was my salvation was just an elaborate trap. The marriage I had anticipated for three years was just another tomb. If that’s what they wanted, then I would be the one to give it to them. 1 In the study, Sebastian was smiling at a stack of share transfer agreements, his expression one of pure devotion. “Mrs. Ashford is gravely ill. Isla will certainly want her to be at the wedding before she passes. Once she’s gone, the Ashford family will crumble. That’s when Adelaide will beg for my help, and that will be my moment to step in.” “Are all the agreements ready? There can be no mistakes. I need the entire Ashford Corporation in my hands. Once I’ve cleared all the obstacles, I’ll hand the company over to Isla.” The lawyer beside him looked at the mountain of paperwork, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “Isla is just the illegitimate daughter. Isn’t this too cruel to Miss Ashford? She has fallen in love with you over these three years. If she finds out you’re only marrying her to seize the family business for her half-sister, you two—” Sebastian cut him off, his voice cold. “Enough. I’ve told you, Isla is the second daughter of the Ashford family. If I hear you call her an illegitimate daughter again, you’re fired.” He continued, “Marrying Adelaide is also a form of compensation. Without the Ashford fortune, she’ll still have me. Her life won’t be difficult.” “My little brother… he’s always liked to compete with me for everything. Since Isla chose him, I’ll pave the way for them. As long as they’re happy, I don’t care what happens to me.” The lawyer sighed and nodded reluctantly. “Very well. I’ll double-check the agreements. I just hope… you don’t regret this.” “Oh, and that video you had me play at the funeral three years ago? Remember to delete it. Don’t let Miss Ashford find out.” Footsteps approached. I fled back to my room in a daze. The hot tea in my hands sloshed over my skin, but a profound chill seeped into my bones, colder than any ice. So, the video at my father’s funeral wasn’t my fiancé, Finn’s, doing at all. It was orchestrated by his brother, the man who had masqueraded as my savior. When Finn abandoned me, making me a public spectacle at my own father’s memorial, Sebastian’s arrival wasn’t to bring me happiness. It was to drive the final knife in. I remembered my mother, on her sickbed, entrusting me to him. He had beaten his chest, swearing to protect me. What a performance. All these years, he’d “helped” me manage my company, but it was all part of his scheme to hand it to Isla on a silver platter. And I, like a fool, had paraded his pathetic, feigned affection everywhere, boasting about my happiness. How utterly laughable. The front door clicked shut; the lawyer had left. Sebastian rushed to my room, cupping my face in his hands and pressing a kiss to my forehead. His eyes, hazy with drink, were filled with a manufactured concern. “Why are you just standing here in the doorway?” “It’s nothing. I was going to bring you some tea, but I spilled it.” “You should let the maids handle that. You’re already exhausted from taking care of your mother at the hospital. I’d be heartbroken if you wore yourself out.” With that, he kissed my lips. His touch was as gentle and loving as it had always been. But I couldn’t feel any warmth from him anymore. To think a person could go to such lengths for someone else. As I closed my eyes, a tear escaped and slid down my cheek. I helped him to the bed and tucked him in. He was already drunk and fell asleep quickly. I sat on the edge of the bed and quietly picked up his phone. I only had to try the password once. It unlocked immediately. It was my sister Isla’s birthday. I opened his chat with her. The screen was a dense, unending scroll of confidential company files. He had been sending them since the day my father died three years ago, without missing a single day. Every project he oversaw, he sent the files to Isla for her to “familiarize” herself. Every deal he closed, he sent her the client information to pave her way. He’d even had the company transfer contracts drafted three years ago, just waiting for my mother to die so I would hand over control to him. My hand trembled as I opened his private photo album. Every single picture was of Isla smiling. Isla attending events as the wife of the younger Mr. Beaumont. Isla celebrating a successful project with Finn. Finn looked so much like his brother; you could almost mistake him for Sebastian in the photos. There were also records of countless jewelry purchases from high-end auctions. He bought them all in his name, as her brother-in-law, and sent them to her as “gifts from an elder.” His hidden love was both subtle and ostentatious, tucked into every detail. It was a dagger twisting in my heart. I recognized some of those jewelry brands. They were the cheap promotional items the auction houses handed out as freebies. He had given them to me, calling them “presents.” I let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh and stopped scrolling. I sent a single message to the company’s board members, calling for an emergency meeting in three days to announce my official takeover as CEO. It was time for him to repay the debt he had amassed over the last three years. I didn’t sleep a wink. At dawn, I went to wash up. A notification pinged from the work group chat on my phone. Sebastian saw it and his face paled with panic. “Adelaide? Since when are you interested in company business? Your mother isn’t well. Didn’t we agree I’d manage things for you? Don’t worry about it. If you get worn out, she’ll blame me for not taking good care of you.” I took the phone from his hand, a cool smile playing on my lips. “It’s nothing. I must have accidentally turned on notifications. I’ll turn it off.” “Don’t you have a meeting for that new project today? You should get going.” He didn’t question it further, visibly relieved. He pulled me into a lingering embrace. “Thank you for being so understanding, my love. I need to push these projects forward so we can focus on the wedding.” I said nothing, just looked down and silenced my phone. “On your way to the hospital, could you pick up the catering I ordered from the hotel? You’ve gotten so thin lately.” “Of course. I’ll bring some for Mom to try.” My mother had been in the hospital for a year. He had hired a team of professional nurses, claiming he didn’t want me to overwork myself. I once thought it was a sign of his love. Now I saw it for the dereliction it was. If he truly cared, how could he have only visited twice in an entire year? All her care and treatment were delegated to others. He had truly put in a monumental effort to keep me from bothering his precious Isla. This three-year charade was about to end. I rushed to the hospital. Before I even reached my mother’s room, I heard the nurses whispering in the hallway. “The Ashfords are one of the city’s top families, right? How come Mrs. Ashford has been here for a year and still hasn’t had surgery? When I changed her drip, she looked like she was fading fast. You’d think the family would be more concerned…” “Shh, don’t ask questions you shouldn’t. The Beaumonts gave the order. Even the hospital director has to keep quiet. It looks like they don’t want to save her, just drag it out. They swapped her actual medication for a glucose drip. She’s not going to make it.” “Probably won’t last another couple of days, right? This family is ruthless. All that money and they won’t even save one of their own…” Tears streamed down my face as I burst into my mother’s room. Her once healthy complexion had turned waxen and pale in just a few days. How had I, who saw her every day, not noticed until now? The monitors beside her bed were beeping frantically. Her breathing grew faint. Even on the brink of death, she was still thinking about my wedding. She gripped my hand, her voice barely a whisper. “Adelaide… I don’t think I’ll be able to see your wedding.” “Sebastian is a good man. After I’m gone, he’ll take care of you. Could you… could you call him for me? I want to say a few words to him…” I sobbed as I pulled the blanket over her. I ran out to find a doctor. But when the doctor came, he just shook his head helplessly. He said my mother’s condition had deteriorated too much, that her body was too weak for surgery now. He told me to start preparing for her funeral. Swallowing my rage, I drove to Sebastian’s office. Before I even entered, I heard Isla’s voice from inside. “Sebastian, you’ve helped me so much these past three years. But Mrs. Ashford is still alive. If you put me in charge of this project, Adelaide will surely be angry.” Sebastian’s voice was heavy with a sorrowful, repressed tone. “You’re my sister-in-law. It’s my duty to help you. Just sign it. You need to get used to the business sooner or later. As for Mrs. Ashford… she probably doesn’t have much time left. Don’t worry about her.” A flash of triumph crossed Isla’s eyes before she replaced it with a look of concern. “Mom’s not doing well? Then I’ll go see her at the hospital today. Even though she never acknowledged me as her daughter, I still want to earn her forgiveness.” I could no longer contain the fury burning in my chest. I threw the door open. “You can keep your fake sympathy. My mother doesn’t want to see you.” Panic flickered across Sebastian’s face. He shot up and came to me. “What are you doing here? Don’t misunderstand. I was just discussing the new project with Isla, that’s all. She was just speaking casually, don’t overthink it.” Isla stood up, waving at me with a smile. “Sister, long time no see.” I didn’t spare her another glance. I turned and walked away. Sebastian chased after me, desperately trying to explain. Looking at his frantic expression, I felt a wave of derision. He had humiliated me at my father’s funeral to clear a path for Isla. Now, he had my mother’s life on his hands. He had gotten everything he wanted. Who was this act for? “Don’t worry,” I said coolly. “I’m not so petty as to meddle in the Beaumont family business. I was on my way to the hospital and just stopped by to see you. Since you’re busy, I’ll be on my way.” He let out a sigh of relief and personally escorted me downstairs. On the way to the hospital, I got a call from the doctor. He told me my mother had just passed away. I slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt on the side of the road. Anger and despair churned within me. After a long struggle, I turned the car around and went back to the Ashford estate to pack up my mother’s belongings. I had just finished filling a box when Isla suddenly appeared before me. She kicked the box over with her foot. My mother’s keepsakes scattered across the floor. Her smile was wild and triumphant. “Adelaide, after all these years, you’re still as useless as ever. You couldn’t protect your mother, you can’t protect your family’s company, and even the two men you’ve loved have paved the way for me. You’re a joke!” A fire ignited in my chest. I couldn’t hold back any longer and slapped her across the face. I hadn’t used much force, but she went tumbling down the steps dramatically. The lunchbox she was holding clattered against her, its contents spilling all over her. I stood frozen, unable to process what had happened. Suddenly, a figure rushed past me and shoved me violently to the ground. Sebastian scooped Isla into his arms, his eyes blazing with fury as he looked at me. “What are you doing? Are you insane? Isla was just trying to bring your mother some soup out of kindness! Why would you attack her? She’s your sister!” His eyes were filled with a rage that completely eclipsed any trace of the love he once pretended to have. I smiled, a cold, sharp curve of my lips, and slowly got to my feet. “My sister? Does she deserve that title?” “Why did my mother’s health decline so suddenly? What was that video at the funeral all about? Sebastian, don’t you two owe me an explanation? What right do you have to question me?” He frowned, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Your mother was already in poor health. I arranged for her hospitalization, and I was the one who deleted the video. What is there to explain? You already know all this.” “But none of that gives you the right to attack your sister!” “Adelaide, apologize! Or I will call the hospital right now and cancel all of your mother’s remaining treatments!” His shouting drew the attention of neighbors. This was a wealthy neighborhood, a hotspot for the city’s elite. I laughed, but tears streamed down my face against my will. “Cancel her treatments? Fine. Go ahead. I don’t need your fake kindness anymore. Not now, not ever!” As I spoke, Isla’s hand crept up to his shoulder. “Sister, no matter how angry you are, you can’t joke about Mom’s health!” “I know you blame me for the scene at the funeral, and I’m sorry. But I was only here today to apologize to her. I meant no harm. Why would you be so cruel to me?” she sobbed. “Sebastian, since my sister hates me so much, maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore. I don’t want to make things difficult for you…” My nails dug into my palms, drawing blood. Watching them walk away, wrapped in each other’s arms, I knew. We were finished. Three years of love turned to ash in that single moment. I took out my phone and sent him a message: The wedding is off. Five hours later, he finally replied with an explanation. “Isla is my sister-in-law, and many of the company’s projects are in her hands. Hurting her in public was bad for the Ashford family’s image. Asking you to apologize was just a strategic move, an act for outsiders. Don’t read too much into it.”

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My boyfriend was a corporate executive’s secretary. Our greatest daily pleasure was dissecting the dramatic love-hate saga between the CEO and his “canary”—his latest trophy girlfriend. Gradually, my boyfriend’s way of referring to the “canary” changed. From “canary” to “Ms. Jane,” then simply “Lily.” The spiced sunflower seeds in my hand suddenly lost their flavor. The next day, I swiftly ordered a fluorescent green baseball cap and personally delivered it to the “Crown Prince.” “Bro, I specially picked this out for you. I’m really not implying anything.” 1. Reid was almost home. I wondered what juicy gossip I’d hear today. Just thinking about it made me happy. Reid handed me his briefcase, looking utterly drained. “Minnie,” he collapsed onto the sofa, “Mr. Thorne is getting engaged.” Whoa! The notorious playboy of the city, Aaron Thorne, who went through internet celebrities like water, was finally settling down? “To whom?!” My eyes lit up. “The ‘canary’? Or that old suitable match, Ms. Brooks?” He frowned, his tone sharp as if he’d just swallowed a firecracker. “How many times have I told you, she’s not a ‘canary.’ She has her own career, a name, a surname. She’s Lily Stevens—Lily!” I froze. Not because he yelled at me. But because—when did he change the way he addressed her? When we gossiped, we always used code names. For instance, Aaron Thorne was “Crown Prince,” and his girlfriend would be “canary,” “nightingale,” or “little fox.” This “Lily, Lily” of his—it sounded a bit intimate, didn’t it? Were they close? His words made me reflect. Gossip is inherently immoral, especially using derogatory nicknames. It was indeed inappropriate. I nodded vigorously. “You’re right. I deeply regret it and apologize to Ms. Lily Stevens.” I picked up a handful of sunflower seeds. “However, ‘Lily’ won’t do. Too easy to expose!” “It should be ‘Seven’!” He looked at me, confused. “Is there any connection?” “Lily Stevens has two names, like that boy band, like seven words in a phrase, so ‘Seven.’ Got it?” Reid rolled his eyes and said I was crazy. I chuckled. Weren’t we partners in crime precisely because we were both so chatty and loved to spin tales? “Quick, tell me, tell me,” I urged, gently shaking his arm. He abruptly pulled his hand away. “What’s there to tell? All you ever do is gossip. Why don’t you choke on it?” The air fell silent for two seconds. He never got angry with me, especially not about gossiping. Because we both agreed that gossiping was sacred. United against outsiders, never internal squabbles. He probably realized his tone was off, awkwardly adding, “I’m tired,” before heading into the bedroom. I didn’t follow. Reid was acting strangely, but I didn’t dwell on it. My inner gossip fiend was roaring. I quickly called my backup gossip partner, Reid’s subordinate and my classmate, Chloe. “Honey! Guess what? Mr. Thorne is getting engaged to Ms. Brooks!” It wasn’t Lily? “But Mr. Thorne showed his affection with 999 drones and declared his love with 9,999 Fenja roses! How could it not be her?” Mr. Thorne, also known as the “Heartbreaker of the City,” never had a girlfriend for more than three months. Yet, he had dated Lily for a full two years. Everyone thought Mr. Thorne had found true love. To my surprise, he was still going down the old path of an arranged marriage. Chloe lowered her voice, using the highest-level opening for gossip. “You absolutely, positively can’t tell anyone, I’m only telling you—” I immediately covered the phone, my heart racing. “—I heard Mr. Thorne found out Lily was cheating on him.” 2. “How is that possible!!” Chloe’s eardrums must have burst from my shout. “Right?! I didn’t believe it either!” Lily must have some serious nerve to cheat on the Crown Prince. “How did he find out she was cheating? It couldn’t just be a misunderstanding, could it?” Chloe sighed. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask your Reid? He’s the executive assistant, he’d know everything.” At that, I remembered Reid’s unusual behavior today. After hanging up, I put on my dinosaur pajamas, intending to cheer Reid up. He was showering. His phone, placed on the bedside table, chimed with notifications. I hadn’t intended to look. The trouble was, I had also set up facial recognition. And the feature was too sensitive. The screen lit up. Only one person was pinned at the top—not me. The name was “My Sweet Lily” with a heart emoji. “Lily, please don’t cry. It’s all my fault.” “I’ll keep an eye on Mr. Thorne for you. I’ll put in a good word for you.” “Lily, please don’t leave me… I truly love you.” A reply came instantly. “What about Minnie, though? Do you like her more or me?” Reid answered. “How can she compare to you? She’s just a broke freelancer who spends all her time digging into other people’s privacy for fun.” The other side sent a cute emoji. “You’re the best, Reid. Kisses.” Lily. Jane Lily. My mind went blank for a few seconds. Lily’s secret lover was my boyfriend? I instinctively reached for my phone, wanting to share this breaking news with Chloe. Then it hit me—I was the subject of the gossip! Before I could even process this twist, the bathroom door opened. Reid saw the still-glowing screen in my hand, and his face instantly drained of color. “You went through my phone?” I imagined myself throwing the phone, slapping him, exposing his secrets, breaking up on the spot—all in one swift motion. But in reality, I just meekly flipped the screen face down on the bed, forcing out a smile uglier than a cry. “I couldn’t find my phone… borrowed yours to make a call.” His expression softened slightly. He grunted, then lay down to scroll through short videos. I stared at the back of his head. The back of the head that, just days ago, had stayed up late with me, dissecting the Crown Prince’s love life, cursing Alex as inhuman while munching on sunflower seeds. The back of the head of the man I had dated for two years, believing I had finally found my soulmate in gossip. Turns out, he had long since moved to another gossip circle. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I had never initiated a call to before. It rang twice, then someone answered. “Bro,” I said, “I found a really nice hat. I’ll personally bring it to you, okay?” There was silence on the other end for two seconds. Then a lazy, playful voice replied, “What color hat?” I looked at the fluorescent green dinosaur pajamas on my bed and answered with genuine emotion: “Green. Very green. So green it glows.” 3. Reid and I met during a particularly juicy gossip event. That day, I was walking back to my dorm with a few bags of spiced sunflower seeds. Suddenly, a commotion of people appeared ahead. My radar instantly went off. That wasn’t just ordinary gawking—that was the centripetal force of a crowd, the restless gossip particles in the air, that was— That was juicy gossip! I pushed through the crowd with the speed of someone rushing for food during military training. Claiming the best vantage point in the front row. “What’s going on? I don’t get it,” someone next to me scratched their head. I glanced at the scene: a red-haired guy, face flushed, being dragged by the arm by a middle-aged woman, with a meek-looking man in glasses standing nearby, head bowed. Got it. An old, ripe scandal. I explained while munching on sunflower seeds. “The two men are roommates. This lady is the red-haired guy’s mother.” A guy beside me very naturally picked up the thread. “The mother and the glasses guy are having an affair. Their rendezvous point is the son’s bedroom.” My classmate went from wide-eyed to utterly stunned. Reid and I locked eyes. In each other’s gaze, we saw the appreciation for a fellow connoisseur. I extended my hand. “Hi, Minnie Qin, Pediatrics.” “Hi, Reid Harrison, Computer Science.” With that handshake, the medical world lost a future pediatric expert, and the internet lost a soon-to-be bald programmer. And the world of gossip, from then on, saw the rise of a formidable duo. We treated gossiping as a mandatory course. He’d write web scrapers, and I’d do the analysis. With absolute rational logical thinking. We’d dig into gossip to the very end. When a male celebrity was exposed for cheating, and the entire internet was still consuming secondhand gossip, we had already produced a complete timeline, relationship chart, and itinerary comparison. The post went up for three hours, and read count surpassed five million. The comment section was filled with: “Are you living under their bed?” “Suggest checking the IP. Reasonable suspicion it’s the person themselves.” “Such analytical skills, a shame they’re not with national security.” The account gained 300,000 followers overnight. And the account continued to update, now boasting over a million followers. Besides gossiping, we clicked on other things too. We watched shows together, complained together, cursed at clients together. Our tacit understanding was so strong, it was as if we were lovers in a past life. I thought this was how my life would be. Munching on sunflower seeds, dissecting gossip, and dating along the way. Only now did I realize. He wasn’t without a “canary” of his own. He was just raising someone else’s “canary.” 4. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I found myself hesitating when I thought about “breaking up.” My brain raced, compiling a detailed “Relationship Incident Review Report.” Was I too busy with work lately, no time to munch on sunflower seeds with him? Did I hurt his feelings when I used his precious limited-edition keyboard cover as a mat for my instant noodles last time? Did my constant requests for him to pick up takeout make his love grow cold, like those chilled braised chickens—chilling little by little? I sat on the sofa, clutching the tail of my dinosaur pajamas, seriously reflecting on myself. Then I slapped myself. Minnie Qin, are you insane? He cheated. He emotionally cheated. He pinned another woman, with a heart emoji in her contact name. What are you reflecting on here? Reflecting on whether you didn’t roll out the red carpet for this relationship? In the dead of night, my tired mind emptied. Some overlooked details, however, began to unfold one by one. He said, “Today I drove the canary home; found out she has a puppy, very cute.” He said, “Today I drove Ms. Jane home; she talked a lot about jewelry design, very interesting.” He said, “Today I drove Lily home; Mr. Thorne said hurtful things again, she cried, and I felt bad too.” What was I doing then? I was eating sunflower seeds. I kept nodding and munching, “Oh, oh, and then? What did Mr. Thorne do then?” Thinking about it now, where was the problem? The problem was Mr. Thorne. You damn well keep making your secretary drive your girlfriend home every day. Is this dating? This is group team-building. I looked at the freshly arrived package in my hand—two fluorescent green baseball caps, every stitch glowing with mocking green light. I had originally planned to give one to Mr. Thorne and keep one for myself. Now I’ve changed my mind. I’ll give both to him. 5. Aaron Thorne is my stepbrother. For certain reasons, not many people know this. We usually pretend not to know each other. But things are different now. My boyfriend cheated with his girlfriend. This mess, who else would I go to but him? He chose the restaurant. Three hundred eighty dollars per person, a bottle of sparkling water priced at $999. I held the bubbling liquid in my hand and whispered, “The evil capitalist.” As soon as the words left my lips, a wave of Dior Sauvage hit me. I looked up. Aaron sat opposite me, clad in a custom black overcoat, his hair meticulously gelled into place. He glanced at me, a standard, irritating smirk playing on his lips. “Long time no see.” He paused. “You look as disheveled as ever.” I looked down at myself—a pilling hoodie, faded jeans, a ten-dollar canvas bag. He was right. But I wouldn’t admit it. “How heartbreaking,” he added. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his tone. Aaron had always been like a peacock since childhood. Constantly displaying his plumage. The difference was, others displayed theirs to attract a mate, he displayed his to provoke a beating. I couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. “My boyfriend seems to have cheated on me.” He raised an eyebrow, and a spark of schadenfreude instantly ignited in his eyes. “Well, congratulations then.” “The other woman is Lily Stevens.” His smirk dropped faster than the stock market. I pulled something out and slowly slid it across the table. A fluorescent green baseball cap. The threads were still visible, boldly, shamelessly green. “Try it on,” I said. “I think it suits you.” Aaron slammed the hat on the floor with a “smack”. “Are you insane?” I crossed my arms. “If you hadn’t kept sending Reid to drive Lily home every day, would he have cheated?” “Don’t you, a CEO, have a driver? Do you have to use your secretary to chauffeur your girlfriend? Can’t you afford a designated driver or a taxi?” “Anyway, it’s all your fault.” I paused, adopting a negotiating stance: “What do you plan to do about it?” Aaron stared at me, as if looking at a case file that had escaped from a mental institution. He opened his mouth, his eyes half-rolled— “Mr. Thorne, don’t listen to her nonsense!” A woman’s voice cut in from the side. “Reid and I really have nothing going on!” I turned my head. Lily stood about ten feet away, her eyes slightly red, looking utterly pitiful. Reid stood beside her. He was carrying her bag. Hermès. Limited edition. My anniversary gift to him was a Logitech keyboard. He was carrying a Hermès for someone else. I suddenly felt that green hat— Was given to the wrong person. 6. Tears clung to Lily’s eyelashes, rolling down one by one. The tears fell with practiced precision, just enough to teeter on the verge of spilling, making her appear both wronged and strong. She looked at me, her voice as soft as bloomed silver ear mushrooms. “Minnie, have you misunderstood something about me? Can we please clear things up today?” “Reid and I are truly just friends. Please don’t ruin my relationship with Mr. Thorne, okay?” After speaking, she began to sob again. Her shoulders trembled. Like a pear blossom in the spring breeze. Next to the pear blossom stood Reid. Holding her Hermès bag, his face filled with concern. Before I could even speak. The table next to us erupted. “Oh my god, isn’t that Mr. Thorne’s girl? Who in the city doesn’t know Lily is the Crown Prince’s darling?” “Who’s this woman? She looks like that and dares to try and steal him?” “Exactly, exactly! Are mistresses so shameless these days? Publicly confronting the rightful partner?” “Look at her, she must be ten years older than Lily, right? How could Mr. Thorne possibly be interested in her?” I froze. Ten years older? Me? I pulled out my phone, opened the front camera, and scrutinized my reflection. This was a face worn out for the future of our nation’s children! The glorious mark of the pediatric emergency room at 3 AM! …Alright, I admit I was triggered. I glanced at Aaron out of the corner of my eye. He was stifling a laugh, enjoying the show. Then I looked at Reid. He was looking down at Lily, his brow furrowed, his eyes so soft they could melt. As if he longed to wipe away her tears himself. He didn’t even spare me a glance. 7. So this is what it feels like to be the subject of gossip. As a grandmistress in the art of gossip, I knew gossipmongers too well. These people are like weather vanes, turning wherever the wind blows. They don’t care about the truth; they only care if there’s new material today. Since you want gossip— Then I’ll serve you a hearty dish. I slowly shuffled over to Aaron. Then, I gently placed my hand on my stomach. “I’m sorry, older sister.” I lowered my head, my voice carrying three parts shyness, three parts guilt, and three parts reckless abandon— “Actually, I’m pregnant with Mr. Thorne’s child.” The surroundings fell silent. It was no different from the atmosphere of a morgue. The Australian wagyu steak I had just eaten in my stomach appropriately squirmed. I looked up, a look of surprise on my face: “Oh, the baby moved! He must have sensed his father is here, so happy!” Thump. Someone at the next table dropped their fork. Someone at the table next to that spilled their coffee. I heard someone gasp, someone else forgot to put away their phone, the camera still on. Lily’s face instantly went white. Not a pear blossom white, but a drywall white. “Impossible…” Her voice trembled. “You, weren’t you Reid’s girlfriend? How could you be pregnant with Mr. Thorne’s child?” Reid finally looked at me. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it hurt. “Stop messing around, Minnie.” He lowered his voice, thinking I was going crazy. “I know you’re jealous. Let’s go home first, we can talk there.” I ignored him. I turned my head, gazing at Aaron with feigned affection. I even managed to squeeze out a tear from the corner of my eye. Aaron met my gaze. His expression was complicated. Like he’d swallowed a whole lemon, or accidentally eaten expired yogurt. Then, he slowly conjured an incredibly fake smile. “Yes,” he said. “It’s mine.” The entire room fell silent. 8. Mount Fuji erupted. “Holy cow, holy cow, holy cow, this isn’t the mistress, this is the main wife!!” “Wait, did I hear that right? The main wife is Reid’s girlfriend?! Mr. Thorne is really playing the field, stealing his subordinate’s partner?” “Drama of the year! I witnessed it firsthand! I’m going to submit this! I’m sending it to ‘Gossip King’! Let a million netizens feast their eyes!” My smile froze. It felt like I’d lifted a rock only to drop it on my own foot. Subtle, too subtle. Lily could no longer maintain her composure. That perpetually gentle face now resembled wet tissue paper. She stepped forward, almost kneeling. “Mr. Thorne… no… I, Reid and I truly have nothing going on…” Her voice trembled badly, and the tears on her eyelashes finally fell, smudging her face. Aaron didn’t look at her. He put his arm around my shoulder and walked through the crowd. Like an emperor on parade. Like a peacock displaying its feathers. Like he was acting in some CEO romance novel but had picked up the wrong script. Reid chased after us for two steps. “Minnie—” He called my name. I turned back. “When did you… and him…” He choked, as if afraid to continue. “Why would you do this to me?” I looked at him. Looking at the Hermès scarf still clutched in his hand. Looking at his familiar face, the one I had once munched on sunflower seeds with, laughing and cursing countless other faces. I wanted to say: Why? Because you were the dog first. But I didn’t speak. Aaron had already ushered me into the backseat. The car door closed, and the world fell silent. He got into the driver’s seat and looked at me through the rearview mirror. “It’s been twelve years since I’ve been back,” he said. His tone was unusually serious. I turned to look out the window. The road to the Thorne family’s old estate was lined with plane trees. When I was seven, my mother brought me here after she married into the family. I sat in the backseat, just like this, peering out the window. Aaron was fourteen then, standing at the door, like a peacock forced into service. Later, after my mother died, I never came back. Twelve years had passed in a blink. 9. The room was still the same. The curtains were the pale yellow my mother had chosen, and a thin layer of dust covered the bookshelf. Aaron came in with a duvet and didn’t let me help. I sat on the bay window, watching him bend over to tuck the four corners of the duvet into its cover. “How did you find out Lily was cheating?” He didn’t stop his movements. “Saw it with my own eyes.” “Well, congratulations then.” I was sincere. “It wasn’t Reid.” … I was silent for three seconds. Lily, a role model for our generation. Daring to cheat on the Crown Prince, and also two-timing— “How many others?” I asked. “Didn’t count.” He was expressionless. I couldn’t help but be curious. “Then why aren’t you sad at all? She was with you for two years, at least.” Aaron didn’t answer. He stuffed a pillow into its case and patted it hard twice. Slap, slap, slap. I felt my face sting a little. He finally looked up and met my gaze. “You, on the other hand, seem quite happy.” I lowered my eyes. In my hand, I fiddled with a strawberry, bright red and sickly sweet. I took a bite. The sweetest part of the fruit, yet as I chewed, I tasted saltiness. Four years. How could I not be sad? I just didn’t dare to stop and think. Afraid that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stand. Past midnight. Thunder began to rumble outside the window. A deep, dull roar, like someone pushing a giant boulder across the sky. It had been a long time since I slept alone. Thunderstorm night. These three words were like a curse, instantly pulling me back to that dusk ten years ago. Roses. Blood. My mother collapsed in the flowerbed, her hand reaching towards the sky, her lips moving. I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I only remembered that patch of red—indistinguishable between petals and blood. She said, Minnie. She said, come be with Mama. Boom— Another clap of thunder. I curled into a ball, my back drenched in cold sweat. My pajamas clung to my skin, cold as if just pulled from water. Reid. That thought was like a drowning person grasping at driftwood. Every time it happened, he would hold me tight, embracing me firmly, repeating over and over. “Minnie, I’m here.” “Minnie, don’t be afraid.” He’d scour the entire internet for gossip, from celebrity scandals to a neighbor’s lost dog, telling me every single story until dawn. Until I stopped shaking. Until I could breathe again. Tonight, there was no one. And in the future, there would be no one either. My heart felt clutched by an invisible hand, squeezed tighter and tighter. I gasped, but no oxygen seemed to enter my lungs. Boom— The door crashed open with a bang.

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I’m a clinger. I was doing it again, wrapping myself around my boyfriend, Alex, begging for one more goodnight kiss. That’s when the comments popped into my vision, floating in the air like ghostly text messages. [Can the side character get a clue? He’s obviously trying to pull away.] [He’s got an avoidant attachment style, duh. He hates physical contact, and she’s walking right into the line of fire.] [FYI, what he needs is a partner who can guide him, like the main female lead.] [Don’t worry, the female lead is about to show up. This clingy, useless girl is gonna get dumped hard!] I froze for a second, then slowly unwound my arms from around his neck. A moment later, Alex’s head shot up. A flicker of annoyance darkened his eyes, and his voice was a low rasp. “Why’d you stop?” 1 My heart stuttered. My gaze darted away, suddenly unable to meet his. Under that sharp, intense stare, I secretly clutched the bedsheets and mumbled, “I’m just tired.” Alex stared at me for two silent seconds. He must not have seen anything unusual in my expression. A moment later, he rolled over, his voice flat. “Then sleep.” I looked at the cold, rigid line of his back, a bitter taste filling my mouth. I got up, switched off the lights, and climbed back into bed. The comments echoed in my mind, so I huddled at the very edge of the mattress, putting as much space between us as possible. I wouldn’t bother him by pressing against him anymore. Maybe then… he’d hate me a little less. Lying in the dark, listening to the sound of his deep, steady breathing, my thoughts began to drift. Deep down, I think I always knew. Alex didn’t really love me. Since we started dating, he’d always been lukewarm, keeping me at arm’s length and resisting any real intimacy. But I’m a clinger. I wanted to be with him every second of every day. He never said anything, but the slight furrow of his brow, the tension in his jaw—it was all there, screaming his reluctance. I just never let myself see it. I even lied to him, telling him I was scared to live alone, just so I could wear him down and move into his place. Then I pushed it further, ending up in his bed, in his room. Every night, I’d cling to him like an octopus, my limbs tangled with his. He allowed it, but now that I think about it, his first instinct was always to refuse. I just wanted to be near him so badly that I ignored all the signs. So the comments I saw… they were probably right. A heavy weight settled in my chest. The more I thought about it, the more it hurt, and it was long past midnight before I finally fell asleep. 2 When I woke up, I was back in Alex’s arms, my right hand wrapped tightly around his waist. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. After a moment of disorientation, a wave of frustration washed over me. I’d gotten so used to sleeping like this, I must have reached for him in my sleep. If Alex woke up and saw this, he’d be so annoyed. Slowly, carefully, I began to retract my arm, trying to slip away without him noticing. I was almost free. But then, his hand shot out and clamped around my wrist. I looked up, my eyes meeting his. They were dark and deep. He must have just woken up, too. His voice was still rough with sleep. “What are you doing?” I yanked my hand back in a panic, bracing my arms against his chest to push him away. “It’s—it’s getting late,” I stammered. “We have to get to work.” Alex didn’t say anything, just stared at me with a blank expression. But even without looking at him, I could feel a low-pressure storm gathering around him. [He’s definitely in a bad mood because she was cuddling him again.] [Seriously, who likes being held while they sleep? It’s so uncomfortable.] [Right? She’s a grown woman. Can’t she have a little self-awareness?] [I wouldn’t be able to stand a clinger like that either. No wonder he’s pissed.] I looked down, my eyelashes fluttering. The comments made my cheeks burn with shame. As I stood there, frozen with uncertainty, Alex’s deep, magnetic voice came from above me again, impossible to read. “About that goodnight kiss from last night… want to make up for it now?” Before, whenever Alex went on a business trip and missed our good morning or goodnight kisses, I’d make him pay them back. I was like a loan shark about affection—if he missed one, he owed me ten. The first time I’d told him that, he’d almost laughed in disbelief. “Sophie, don’t you think that’s a little much?” I’d just blinked, completely oblivious, and cupped his face in my hands, planting kiss after kiss on him until I was satisfied. I guess it happened so often that he just got used to it and stopped showing his resistance so openly. But remembering how he’d subtly dodged me last night, I knew he didn’t really want to. So I waved my hands frantically. “No, it’s okay!” I said, then looked down at the floor, adding in a small, unconfident voice, “We don’t have to do the good morning and goodnight kisses anymore.” Alex watched me, his gaze hardening. After a long moment, he said flatly, with what sounded like a hint of defiance, “Whatever you want.” I quietly let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. But at the same time, a familiar ache spread through my chest. He really did see it as a burden. 3 After a quick shower, I found Alex had already made breakfast. He was always faster than me. By the time I sat down, he was already finished, his eyes fixed on me as I ate. I started eating faster. “No rush,” he said, his brow furrowed. I nodded, my cheeks full. Ten minutes later, Alex was ready to drive me to work, just like always. But we were running late. The comments flared to life again, practically buzzing with excitement. [If I remember right, today’s the day he meets the female lead, isn’t it?] [Yep! She starts at his company today. She’s super competent, great with people, and most importantly, she has a sense of personal space.] [See? That’s why he won’t feel pressured around her.] [Once he gets a taste of what a real partner is like, he’ll dump this clinger in a heartbeat.] My vision blurred. So today was the day he’d meet her. My heart felt heavy, and the air around me suddenly seemed thin. Seeing me just standing there, Alex prompted, “Get in the car.” I didn’t move. “You can go ahead. I’ll get to the office myself.” He got out of the car, his long legs closing the distance between us in a few strides. His gaze was sharp, analytical. “You’re angry,” he stated, not a question. “It’s because I dodged your kiss last night, isn’t it?” I looked up at him, bewildered. “No, of course not.” How could I be angry? The comments just made me realize what a clingy person I was. I was just trying to fix it. Alex obviously didn’t believe me. He stepped closer. “Then why won’t you let me drive you?” My eyes flickered away. I couldn’t tell him the real reason. “I just think… we should give each other a little more personal space,” I said, my voice laced with guilt. He paused, clearly not expecting that. He didn’t press any further. “…Fine. I’ll pick you up after work.” He didn’t wait for my answer, just left me with those words, got back in his car, and sped off. I was distracted all day. The comments said Alex was going to drive the female lead home, that he wouldn’t be coming for me. They mocked me for being delusional. When I stepped out of my office building, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation, his car wasn’t there. Normally, he’d be here ten minutes early. I stared at the empty spot on the curb for a while, lost in thought. Suddenly, a bright voice called out from behind me. “Sophie? What are you doing just standing here? Can’t get a ride?” I turned around. It was a young guy with a stylish flair, a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm. He’d just started a few days ago and was full of energy. “It’s rush hour,” he continued. “Don’t even try the subway. I can give you a lift on my bike.” My first instinct was to say no, but the sky was already growing dark. I nodded. “Thanks.” Jax was a good head taller than me and easily slipped the helmet over my head. “No problem.” But in the next second, a long, insistent car horn blared behind us. Before I could react, Alex was out of his car. He walked right up to me, laced his fingers through mine, and lifted the helmet off my head. He handed it back to Jax with a casual air. “Hey,” he said, his voice deceptively light. “I’m Sophie’s boyfriend. Alex.” Jax blinked, then a mischievous grin spread across his face. “You’re not doing a very good job as a boyfriend, are you? We’ve been off work for a while now.” 4 Alex’s eyes narrowed dangerously. The air grew thick with tension. I gently squeezed his hand, trying to break the stalemate. “Alex, let’s go home.” Then I waved to Jax. “We’re gonna head out. See you tomorrow! Ride safe!” On the way to the car, Alex’s mood was dark. He walked so fast, his long legs eating up the pavement, that I had to jog to keep up. Once we were inside, I looked at his cold, chiseled profile, about to explain. But the words died in my throat. My eyes had drifted to the dashboard, and there, nestled behind the windshield, was a cute little cat plushie. Alex hated cats. And that plushie wasn’t there yesterday. [Hehe, that adorable little thing? Obviously a gift from the female lead.] [Look at the side character’s face. She totally knows what’s up.] [Just break up with him already. Save yourself the humiliation.] [And she probably thinks he was being jealous back there. As if. No guy wants to look like his girlfriend is cheating on him, that’s all.] I blinked slowly, forcing down the stinging sensation in my nose. The comments were right. He really did drive the new girl home. And he even let her put that cat plushie—a reminder of something he disliked—right in his line of sight. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before Alex asked me to leave. I sniffled, quietly scooting a little farther away from him. 5 If we were going to break up, I didn’t want it to be a complete mess. So that evening, after eating the dinner Alex had cooked, I waited until he was busy in his study. Then, I secretly started moving my things from his bedroom into the guest room. I didn’t bother him while he worked, didn’t pester him to come to bed early to keep me company like I used to. After my shower, I climbed into the guest bed alone and pulled the covers up over my head. My feet were cold. Maybe from now on, there would be no one to warm them for me. As my mind wandered, there was a knock on the door. I shot up, startled. Opening the door, I hid my body behind it, poking just my head out. “Alex? Do you need something?” He blocked the door with his foot, his gaze unreadable and intense. He did not look happy. “Why did you move in here?” I avoided his eyes and mumbled, “I wanted to sleep by myself.” Alex’s brow lowered, his stare pinning me to the spot. The temperature in the hallway seemed to drop a few degrees. “Why?” he asked, his voice cool. I knew moving rooms so suddenly was strange. Staring at the floor, I recited the excuse I’d prepared. “Well… you said before that I’m a restless sleeper. I was afraid I was bothering you, so I thought I’d move out for a bit and try to fix the habit.” “We’ll sleep together,” he said instantly. “I’ll help you fix it.” His words made the tips of my ears burn. It was such a simple sentence, but coming from his deep, clear voice, it felt incredibly intimate. My mind flashed back to all those nights we’d spent tangled together. He never wore a shirt to bed, and I loved the heat of his bare chest against my back as he held me. But I was the one who forced him to do that. I was always the one demanding he hold me from behind as we slept. He probably hated it. A wave of guilt washed over me. But before I could answer, he reached out and took my hand. I flinched back as if I’d been shocked, pulling my hand away. His expression darkened. I steadied myself, my lips pressed into a nervous line, and quietly refused. “No, it’s okay. I think I’m fine sleeping alone. I… I just want some personal space.” Alex watched me for a long moment, then nodded. “…Fine. As long as you don’t regret it.” 6 It was the weekend, so both Alex and I were home. He did something he never did: he invited me to the media room to watch a movie. A thriller. I hesitated. If I was in the same room with him, I knew my fear and old habits would kick in. I’d end up trying to burrow into his arms. But Alex hated that kind of physical contact. Whenever we watched movies before, I always had to beg and plead for ages before he’d finally let me curl up against him. And even then, he’d sit ramrod straight. If there was a kissing scene, he’d gently push me away. “It’s… getting a little warm in here,” he’d murmur. Once, I reached up to touch his face, and he flinched away like he’d been burned. Before I could ask what was wrong, he was making an excuse to go to the bathroom, desperate to get away from me. Love is in the details. So is the lack of it. Remembering all that, I shook my head, my heart aching as I turned him down. “Maybe not…” Just then, the doorbell rang. I seized the opportunity to escape, scrambling to answer it. Standing on the doorstep was a girl I’d never seen before. Her hands were behind her back, and she gave me a bright, sunny smile. “Hi! I’m looking for Alex.” I blinked. [Aaaah, it’s our female lead!] [She’s so pretty when she smiles! She has so much life in her. Her and Alex are a perfect match.] [She came all the way here to put the side character in her place, right?] Reading the comments, I instinctively took a step back and called into the house, my voice a little shaky. “A-Alex, someone’s here for you.” A moment later, Alex appeared at the door, dressed in lounge clothes. The girl, Grace, brought her hands forward, revealing a soft, fluffy white pillow. A pair of adorable dimples appeared in her cheeks as she spoke, her voice gentle. “I heard you weren’t sleeping well, so I picked out one that’s supposed to help with sleep.” Alex took it, his face unreadable. “Thanks.” They chatted for another minute. I just stood there, my legs feeling like they were filled with lead. [Does anyone else get the subtle genius of her gift? A pillow is intimate, but not too forward, and it hits his exact problem!] [Our girl is so thoughtful and knows her boundaries.] [If I remember correctly, the pillow he’s using now is one the side character bought him, right? It’s about to be replaced.] [That’s how it’s done! First, you replace her things, then you replace her.] I lowered my eyes, about to slip away unnoticed. But then, Grace called out to me, her eyes curving into a smile. “You must be Alex’s girlfriend, right? You’re so beautiful. By the way, my name is Grace. I love cats, too.” I was confused. Before I could say anything, Alex was already ushering her out the door. He disappeared into the bedroom and came back out holding another pillow—the one I had bought him. He handed it to me, his expression neutral. “You don’t have a pillow in your room, do you? Use this one.” He paused, then added, “This one’s more comfortable.” I stared at it for a moment before my hand moved to take it. A bitter taste filled my mouth as I forced the word out. “…Okay.” The comments were right again. He’d chosen the pillow Grace gave him and returned mine. He even came up with a ready-made excuse, probably afraid I’d make a scene. I knew this was just the beginning. I practically fled back to my room. 7 I stayed in my room all day. Alex knocked a few times, asking what was wrong, but I just brushed him off with excuses. Later, the doorbell rang again. It was Jax, dropping off a contract for me from our boss. But when the door opened, he was met with Alex’s thunderous expression. Alex was in the middle of making dinner, his sleeves rolled up. “Sophie’s busy. You can give it to me.” Then he added dismissively, “You can go now if you’re done. I’m a busy man. After all, not every guy knows his way around a kitchen like I do.” Jax scratched his head, peering past Alex into the house. “You need cooking skills to heat up takeout?” Alex’s face got even darker. He was practically shoving Jax out the door. “Sophie and I have some… private things to take care of.” In reality, the “private thing” he was talking about was just him rubbing my stomach because I’d eaten too much. After dinner, I don’t remember when I fell asleep. When I woke up again, I knew what I had to do. I found Alex in the laundry room, washing my underwear. A pink scrap of lace was being gently kneaded between his fingers. My face instantly flushed crimson. Pushing down the flutter in my chest, I walked over to him and spoke slowly. “Alex, I want to move out.” His hands stopped. He was silent for a long moment. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed like he started scrubbing with more force. “Weren’t you scared of living alone?” “Is it because of…” He didn’t lift his head, his voice low and raspy. He never finished the sentence. I couldn’t admit I’d lied to him before. “I can learn to get over it,” I mumbled. He kept his focus on washing my things, saying nothing. I followed him as he moved to hang them up, a nervous knot in my stomach. I couldn’t tell what I wanted more—for him to agree, or for him to say no. So I asked again. “Can I?” After hanging the last piece, Alex finally turned to look at me. His dark eyes were like bottomless pits. He ground his teeth, and his voice was cold. “If you’re already planning to leave, what do you need a boyfriend for? We might as well just break up.” I froze on the spot. The comments, however, exploded with joy. [This is what he’s really been thinking, isn’t it? He’s wanted to break up with her for ages.] [About time she got the hint.] [Go, go, go! Make room for our female lead!]

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My mother’s heart disease relapsed, and she desperately needed money for life-saving treatment. I summoned every ounce of courage to go to my secret boyfriend of ten years, a man worth over a hundred million, to borrow money. However, before I could even open my mouth, he coldly reprimanded me. His efficient female secretary immediately escorted me out of the conference room to wait. I waited for a grueling eight hours. Until the hospital called with the news of my mother’s death. My boyfriend seemed to remember my existence only then, instructing his secretary to usher me into his office. “Alright, tell me, what did you come here for?” A bitter, desolate laugh escaped my lips. “Nothing much. I just wanted to waste a bit of your time… and break up with you.” 1 “I just ended a ten-year relationship. Are you really sure you want to marry me?” The man sitting opposite me paused for a moment, then solemnly replied, “Eliza, I’ve waited for you for ten years.” My heart clenched sharply. “Okay, we’ll get married in seven days.” With our agreement made, I grabbed my bag and left the coffee shop, heading for the train station. This was the third day after my mother’s passing. For these three days, I had cried inconsolably every single day. The entire world knew my mother was gone. Yet, my boyfriend of ten years, Alex, remained utterly oblivious. We never shared our social circles. He never introduced me to his friends, nor did he ever care to meet mine. On top of that, Alex was a billionaire, every minute of his time calculated in thousands. So, he never bothered to stoop down and check my social media. Not only did he not know my mother had died, he didn’t even know she died because there wasn’t enough money for her surgery. So, as my mother’s ashes were laid into the earth, I decided to cut all ties with Alex and marry another man. A cold, drizzling rain began to fall, and my phone chimed right on cue. The message was from Alex’s secretary, Olivia. “Ms. Eliza, Mr. Alex is traveling tomorrow. Please prepare two pairs of leather shoes and three suits for him.” Reading Olivia’s commanding message, despite my firm resolve to break up with Alex, my heart still ached. For a significant part of my ten-year relationship with Alex, Olivia’s presence loomed large. I’d send Alex a playful message, and Olivia would be the one to reply. “Apologies, Ms. Eliza, Mr. Alex is in a meeting. I will relay your message.” Even mundane aspects of my and Alex’s daily life—buying contraceptives, groceries, clothes, everyday wear—were almost exclusively handled by Olivia. I disliked it immensely and had confronted Alex countless times. But each time, Alex would merely look at me calmly. “Eliza, you have no taste, no discernment. I’m having the more capable Olivia help you with these things. What’s the fuss about?” In the past, Alex’s words would always leave me speechless. But now, I had simply resigned myself. Indeed, how could a graduate from a regular university like me compare to Olivia, a postgraduate from a prestigious overseas institution? She was worldly, capable of dealing with clients externally, and could meticulously manage Alex’s daily life internally. Unlike me, who, after ten years at Alex’s company, was still an insignificant employee in the operations department. But now, a sneer simply played on my lips. If Alex valued Olivia so much, then I would just give him to her. I promptly replied to Olivia: “Secretary Olivia, I don’t have time to prepare clothes for Alex. If you don’t mind, you can personally go to the house and prepare them for your Mr. Alex.” 2 Olivia’s message was an instant reply: “Understood, Ms. Eliza, I will inform Mr. Alex.” A sharp, piercing pain once again shot through my heart. If not for the timely arrival of the ride-share, tears would have surely streamed down my face in the rain. This feeling of hitting a wall of cotton, utterly ineffective, had long since become utterly detestable. But thankfully, after a seven-hour train ride, my mood had significantly calmed by the time I arrived back at Alex’s villa. As soon as I entered, I saw Alex sitting on the sofa. His hair was still damp, and drops of water beaded on his skin beneath his open V-neck robe. This used to be the Alex I adored most. I instinctively pursed my lips, about to walk towards him. A seductive yet clear voice drifted from the bathroom. “Mr. Alex, may I dry your hair for you now?” As the words finished, a crimson figure emerged from the bathroom. I turned my head sideways, and my eyes met Olivia’s. Especially when my gaze fell upon her bright red nightgown, the mockery on my lips became impossible to suppress. You see, the nightgown Olivia was wearing was the only gift Alex had ever bought me with his own money. Because I cherished it so much, I had only worn it once since purchasing it. But now, it was draped across Olivia’s body. I took a deep breath. “Excuse me, I seem to have interrupted your evening. It appears I’ve returned at an inconvenient time.” With that, I picked up my suitcase and turned to leave. Alex, however, suddenly walked over and angrily grabbed me. “Eliza, what are you doing now? Olivia and I were drenched when we went on a site visit in the heavy rain, so we came back to the villa to change.” Honestly, I truly wanted to just endure it. After all, I was getting married to another man in four days. My only reason for returning was to resign and break up with Alex. But I didn’t care what Alex and Olivia did “improperly” outside. What I absolutely could not tolerate was Alex letting Olivia wear my nightgown and act like this in what I once considered our home, all while he and I were still technically together. “So you’re saying the hickeys on her body aren’t from you?” Yes, because this nightgown was a lingerie style—it was not only sheer but also quite revealing. So I instantly spotted the hickeys subtly hidden beneath the delicate fabric on Olivia’s skin. A flicker of panic crossed Alex’s face. Olivia, however, spoke up promptly, “Ms. Eliza, the hickeys on my body are my private business and have nothing to do with you. You have no right to question them. If you feel my presence is affecting you, I can avoid coming to this villa. But I hope you won’t always threaten to run away. Do you realize how busy Mr. Alex is? Constantly upsetting him like this, he’s only human, he gets tired too.” Olivia truly was a graduate from a prestigious university. In just a few sentences, she had branded me as unreasonable. Suppressing the surging pain in my heart, I was about to retort to Olivia. Alex then spoke with a cold face, “Eliza, you apologize to Olivia right now! Olivia is my assistant, not your emotional punching bag. I hope you won’t challenge my patience repeatedly.” My face pale, I met Alex’s gaze, not with anger, but with a bitter laugh. “Alex, you want me to apologize? Dream on!” 3 With that, I grabbed my suitcase and stormed back to my room in a fit of anger. As if to punish me, Alex did not come to my room that night. A bitter smile played on my lips as I thought about it. Though I was Alex’s girlfriend, I was more like his mistress. He could enter my room whenever he pleased. But if I wanted to find him, I had to knock and wait for his permission to enter. If he was in a bad mood, he wouldn’t even bother to reply with a simple “busy.” But now, it was actually quite convenient. With only four days left until my wedding, I didn’t want any more contact with him. When I woke up the next morning, Alex was already seated at the dining table. He gestured to the milk on the table. “Don’t you have a sensitive stomach? I had Esther warm up some milk for you.” This was Alex’s usual way of making peace. In the past, to give him an out, I would typically drink the milk down in one go, even though I detested it. Instead of taking the milk cup from his hand as usual, I called for Esther. “Esther, please bring me a bowl of porridge.” Alex, however, pushed the milk back into my hand. “I merely asked you to apologize to Olivia last night. Why are you suddenly so delicate? Olivia is my right-hand woman; you know I can’t lose her. If I upset her and she leaves, how will I manage my work?” Looking at his eyes, which held a gentle gaze, my heart instinctively tightened. Alex and I met during our internship. He was the boss, and I was a fresh intern. Since I didn’t know who the boss was when I first started, one time while buying coffee for my department, I asked him to press the elevator button for my floor. After that, I started receiving flowers every now and then, until a month later Alex called to invite me to dinner. At our first formal meeting in a five-star hotel, he was a gentleman, knowledgeable, and charming. I was smitten by him that very first night. Six months later, I moved into his villa. In the first year of our relationship, we were truly happy. He would personally bake all sorts of pastries for me. If I caught a cold or fell ill, he would abandon meetings to rush home and care for me. Because we wanted to keep our relationship private, when I worked late, he would also stay late in his office. Then, like thieves, we would secretly have late-night snacks and share kisses in his office. I was certain that the old Alex was madly in love with me. But ever since Olivia became his secretary, even a tender glance from him had become a luxury. I pulled at the corner of my mouth, stating lightly: “If you can’t do without Olivia, why don’t you just marry her? Tie her down in a marriage certificate; wouldn’t that be the safest option?” Alex’s impatience was evident. Even without guessing, I knew he would once again utter words about me being unreasonable. So I decided to speak first. “Alex, we’re brea—” Before I could finish, Olivia walked in from outside the villa. “Mr. Alex, it’s eight o’clock. We need to leave for the office now.” Alex immediately stood up with a cold face, grabbed his suit jacket, and followed her out. My punch landed on cotton once again. It didn’t hurt, but it was suffocating enough. 4 Soon after Alex and Olivia left, I also packed my bag and headed to the office. As soon as I arrived, my boss called me into his office. He looked at me helplessly and pushed a performance review across the desk. “Eliza, I’m really sorry. I truly did my best. I originally thought that after I left, this position would surely be yours, but to my surprise, the higher-ups rejected my recommendation with a unanimous vote.” Looking at the remorse in the department manager’s eyes, I calmly pulled out my resignation letter. “Mr. Chen, it’s alright. I’ve already decided to resign.” Mr. Chen looked at me in surprise. “Are you really going to resign? You’ve worked diligently at this company for ten years, solving so many problems. And now you’re leaving?” A bitter smile played on my lips. But it was precisely because I had worked diligently for ten years at the company, yet hadn’t achieved anything I truly desired, that I had to leave. Alex had once made a promise to me: as soon as I reached the position of Operations Manager, he would take me home to meet his parents, and we would get married. I believed his vow. I worked tirelessly, striving for performance. But no matter how hard I pushed myself, even if I had the best performance and evaluation in the company, the Operations Manager position changed hands again and again, but it was never mine. I had confronted Alex countless times, but each time he would just look at me coldly. “Eliza, if you can’t get that position, it means you’re not capable enough. You should reflect on where you need to improve, instead of making a scene and expecting me to use pillow talk for you.” That was the first time I felt a profound chill. Because besides desperately wanting to marry Alex, I also longed for recognition for my hard work. Perhaps the pain in my heart was too intense, and the tears in my eyes welled up uncontrollably. Fearing that I would expose my vulnerability in front of Mr. Chen, I hurriedly stood up: “Excuse me, Mr. Chen, I need to go to the restroom.” 5 Sobs mingled with the sound of the flushing toilet in the restroom. It was only then that I realized how much pain and resentment I had harbored during my ten years with Alex. And just as I was sobbing in the restroom, I heard voices outside the door. “I heard Mr. Chen from operations is leaving, and he recommended Eliza for the operations manager position.” “Secretary Olivia, others might not know, but we in the secretarial office all know that Mr. Alex once promised Eliza he would marry her if she became operations manager.” Olivia let out a cold laugh. “That fool Eliza, does she really deserve to marry Mr. Alex? Don’t worry, I stopped her from becoming operations manager before, and I’ll stop her again this time.” “That idiot Eliza, she’s really persistent. I’ve been subtly docking her year-end bonuses, trying to force her out of the company, but she’s just gritted her teeth and stayed.” A wave of intense hatred surged into my heart. Over the years at the company, all employees who achieved results received generous year-end bonuses. All long-term employees could get performance raises based on their tenure, but I was stuck at the entry-level salary. This was why I had to desperately beg Alex for money to pay for my mother’s medical treatment. I never imagined that Olivia was behind all of it. I furiously flung open the restroom door and stormed out. “Olivia, it was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been withholding my salary all these years!” “If you like Alex, why didn’t you just tell me? I would have let you have him! Why did you have to play these dirty tricks behind my back?” With that, I angrily lunged forward and slapped Olivia squarely across the face. Olivia’s face instantly contorted with fury. Just as I braced myself for her to slap me back. She suddenly knelt before me. “Ms. Eliza, I know you’re Mr. Alex’s girlfriend. I can’t provoke you, but can’t I at least avoid you? I’ll resign today. I just beg you, please don’t bully or hit me anymore. I know I was wrong, just let me off the hook.” Seeing Olivia’s actions, I froze for a moment. The next instant, a cold voice came from outside the restroom. “Eliza, what are you doing? This is a company, not your personal arena for acting like a shrew! Apologize to Olivia right this instant!” With that, Alex walked over and, with a face full of concern, helped Olivia up. “Are you alright? Where did she hit you? I’ll take you to the hospital immediately.” Olivia, however, cried and flung herself into Alex’s arms. “Mr. Alex… I’m fine… It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have rejected Ms. Eliza’s application for Operations Manager. It’s only natural for her to resent me.” “I just couldn’t stand her using her seniority to throw her weight around in the company all these years, to the point where even Mr. Chen had to defer to her. Didn’t Mr. Chen even leave the company because he couldn’t take her anymore?” “But she actually threatened Mr. Chen to endorse her for Operations Manager. I truly didn’t want the company to be thrown into chaos because of her, so I was forced to reject her application for the position.” “But I never imagined Ms. Eliza would find out and then rush into the restroom to hit me!” Alex’s face darkened further. He gently patted Olivia’s back, then turned to me, his face alight with anger. “Eliza, do you really think I would marry you just because you became Operations Manager? Take a look at your social standing, do you even deserve me?” “For these ten years, I’ve fed you, clothed you. Do you genuinely believe you’re some high society lady? Go to HR right now, process your resignation, and get out of my company!” A sneer played on my lips. So, this was Alex’s true inner thought? So, from beginning to end, Alex only saw me as a mistress, not a girlfriend. In truth, I had known the answer long ago; I just wasn’t willing to admit it. Tears slipped from my eyes. I calmly wiped them away and pulled out my resignation letter. “No need for you, Mr. Alex, to personally escort me out. I’ll leave on my own. Here’s my resignation letter.” 6 I had never called Alex “Mr. Alex” before. So when the distant “Mr. Alex” left my lips, it stung Alex, causing him to involuntarily furrow his brow. He was about to say something when Olivia’s whimpering began. “Mr. Alex, I’m feeling a bit dizzy. Could you please take me to the hospital?” He then reverted to his cold demeanor. I scoffed and shook my head, turning to walk out of the restroom. Ten years of love, finally reaching its curtain call. I went straight back to Alex’s villa, pulled out my suitcase, and started packing my clothes. But as I packed, I realized that my personal belongings only filled two suitcases. Everything else—bags, jewelry—had been purchased by Olivia, reflecting her taste. Especially when I saw the men’s ring I had hidden in the corner of my dressing table. I couldn’t help but shed tears. This ring was my father’s heirloom, and I had once given it to Alex. Alex had accepted the ring at the time. Yet, I never saw him wear it. Until one day, I accidentally went to his study and saw the ring discarded in the trash can. That’s when I knew Alex and I wouldn’t last. With my belongings packed, I hauled my suitcases downstairs. As I reached the villa’s entrance, I bumped into Alex returning home. He looked at me with a slight frown. “Are you running away from home again? You just ran off two days ago and came back with your tail between your legs. Aren’t you tired of this game yet?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. So, for those three days I was gone after my mother passed, Alex thought I was just throwing a tantrum. No wonder he didn’t call to ask about me. No wonder the sneer on Alex’s face was so evident when I returned. I looked at him calmly. “Alex, let’s break up.” Just then, the ride-share arrived. I didn’t care how clouded his expression was. I put my suitcase in the trunk and opened the car door. Before I left, Alex stopped me, his voice cold. “Eliza, if you leave this time, I won’t let you come back to me. I won’t tolerate you challenging my patience again and again.” I scoffed, looking at him. “Alex, rest assured, I, Eliza, wouldn’t come back even if it meant my death.” With that, I got into the ride-share and drove away. Watching the fleeting trees outside the window, I knew my ten-year Cinderella dream was utterly shattered.

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Three years after we broke up. Dante and I met again in the glittering lobby of a five-star hotel. I was working the front desk. He was checking into the presidential suite with a woman on his arm. That night, I received three calls from his room. The first time, he said, “The sheets need changing.” I had housekeeping handle it. Two hours later, he called again, demanding another change of sheets. I complied. At two in the morning, his third call came through. I cut him off before he could speak, my voice a mask of polite refusal. “I’m sorry, sir, but housekeeping has gone home for the night.” A low chuckle came through the line, lazy and careless. “Then you come change them.” 1 I didn’t grace him with a response. I just hung up. My job was at the front desk, not cleaning rooms. My colleague sidled over, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Was that the guy in the presidential suite again?” When I nodded, she smothered a giggle behind her hand. “Making housekeeping change the sheets three times in one night… that man has some serious stamina.” She leaned closer. “So what did he say when you told him they were off duty?” “He told me to go up and do it,” I said flatly. Her eyes widened for a second, then she let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Does he think renting the presidential suite makes him king of the world? So disrespectful. It’s not like he owns the place, treating us like his 24/7 personal maids…” Her rant was cut short by the trill of her desk phone. She cleared her throat and answered it professionally. A moment later, her voice was laced with deference. “Yes, Mr. Henderson.” I couldn’t hear what the manager said on the other end, but my colleague’s eyes shot to me, wide with disbelief. “You want Ava to go to the presidential suite… to change the sheets? Right now?” 2 Fifteen minutes later, I stood outside the presidential suite, steeling myself before pressing the doorbell. The door opened to reveal Dante, clad in nothing but a plush hotel bathrobe. His eyes met mine, and he stepped aside, a silent invitation to enter. From the bathroom, I could hear the faint sound of a running shower. He led me into the bedroom and then sank onto a nearby sofa. He casually plucked a cigarette, placed it between his lips, and lit it, the picture of cool indifference. I moved to the bed in silence and pulled back the duvet. The damp stain on the sheets hit me like a physical blow. A dull, heavy ache bloomed in my chest. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, his voice a lazy drawl, tinged with the weariness of a man utterly satisfied. “Sorry for the trouble. My girlfriend gets a little… carried away. Can’t sleep on them like this.” He gestured with his cigarette. “Be quick about it, would you? She’s exhausted.” “It will only take five minutes,” I managed, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. My hands moved with practiced efficiency, stripping the soiled linens and replacing them with fresh, crisp ones. I gathered the dirty sheets into a bundle and turned to leave. But he was suddenly there, blocking my path, closing the distance until my back was pressed against the edge of the bed. He leaned in, and I stumbled backward, falling onto the mattress. In the next second, he was over me, his weight pinning me down, his body an unmovable force. The shower was still running. My hands clenched, pushing against the mattress as I tried to sit up, but it was useless. He was too strong. I pushed against his chest, my voice a frantic whisper. “Your girlfriend will see. Get off me.” His eyes were cold, his breath a sharp mix of alcohol and something else, something dangerous, as he leaned close to my ear. “All these years, Ava,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. “I’ve never understood.” “Why him? Of all people, why did you have to cheat on me with him?” 3 The sound of the shower cut off abruptly. But he didn’t move. Panic clawed at my throat, and I did the only thing I could think of. I bit down hard on his forearm. He let out a muffled grunt, his brow furrowed in pain, and his grip loosened just enough. I shoved him away, scrambling off the bed and grabbing the bundle of linens. I fled like my life depended on it. Just as the heavy door clicked shut behind me, I heard a woman’s soft, cloying voice drift from the room. “Honey, if you make them change the sheets again, I’ll be too embarrassed to show my face tomorrow.” His reply was lost to me as I hurried down the silent, carpeted hallway, my heart hammering against my ribs. The wild thumping only began to slow as the distance between us grew. It’s not like I hadn’t wondered what it would be like to see him again. But I had never, not in my darkest imaginings, pictured this. Three years, and his hatred for me was still this raw. It would have been better if our paths had never crossed again. 4 Back at the front desk, my colleague was buzzing, ready to gossip. “Do you have any idea who that guy in the presidential suite is?” It was late, and I was exhausted, in no mood for chatter. But she was too wound up to notice. “I just looked him up. He’s Dante Jennings! The heir to the Crestview Jennings fortune.” “It’s against policy to look up guest information,” I said, my voice tired. “I was curious! No wonder our manager jumped when he called at two in the morning.” She leaned in, her voice dropping. “I did a quick search, and it’s all over the internet—that multi-billion-dollar inheritance war their family had three years ago. Apparently, Dante got seriously ill at the worst possible time and almost lost his claim as the heir.” She rattled on, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. “He had a girlfriend back then, his first love, they said. She was a real piece of work. The second she saw he was on his way out, she cheated on him. While he was lying in the ICU, she just up and left him for another man. It almost killed him! But he pulled through, thank God.” “People online still trash her. They call her the worst kind of gold-digger. She must be kicking herself now, throwing away her chance to be Mrs. Jennings.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Oh, but you haven’t heard the craziest part. Do you know who she cheated on him with?” Her voice was a relentless buzz in my ears. “Yes,” I said quietly. “I know.” She raised her voice slightly. “You know? You’ve read the stories too?” I slowly turned to face her, my expression calm as I met her wide, curious eyes. “I don’t need to read the stories.” My voice was even, devoid of emotion. “I’m that girlfriend. The one who cheated on him.” Her face froze, the gossipy smile wiped clean, leaving only stunned silence. 5 Meeting Dante was the most beautiful accident of my life. It started when I saw a man harassing a girl on the street. I didn’t think; I just acted, kicking the creep right where it counts. I dragged him to the police station, and Dante, amused, followed me the whole way. He was leaning against the entrance when I came out and asked for my number. One thing led to another, and soon enough, we were inseparable. The day he told me he loved me, I asked him why. He just smiled, a playful glint in his eye. After a long moment, he took my hand. “I think I fell for you the second I saw you kick that guy in the balls.” He was such a tease, always messing with me. We were together for a long time. He bought an apartment near campus, and we fell into the easy, sweet rhythm of any normal couple in love. My parents divorced when I was young, and I was raised by my grandmother. One day, while we were video-chatting, she mentioned she was having trouble eating because she’d lost some teeth. The very next day, Dante took her to the best dentist in the city and paid for a full set of dental implants. Later, I hesitantly brought up the cost. It was tens of thousands of dollars. He’d signed the check without blinking, but I had no idea how I could ever repay him. He saw the worry on my face. “Don’t worry about the money, Ava. It’s on me.” I looked at him, my voice small. “What if… what if we break up someday? You won’t make my grandma give them back, will you?” He burst out laughing. Back then, I knew he was wealthy, but I had no idea of the scale. Not until I was complaining about my university scholarship being delayed. The very next day, the entire process for the Jennings Corporation scholarship was streamlined. The announcements were made, and the funds were distributed that same afternoon. That was when I learned he was that Jennings. The one from Crestview. 6 Then his father passed away. The battle for the Jennings fortune was the story of the year. It turned out Dante wasn’t the only son. His father had a handful of illegitimate children scattered around. Right when the fight was at its most vicious, Dante was hospitalized. Acute kidney failure. He spent more than ten days in the ICU. Two rounds of dialysis did nothing. His kidney function was gone. The doctors, left with no other choice, recommended a transplant. But we waited and waited, and no suitable donor could be found. I went to his half-siblings, one by one, and begged them to get tested. But none of them would. Why would they? With Dante out of the picture, their slice of the inheritance pie would be that much bigger. They were hoping he would die; they certainly weren’t going to lift a finger to save him. I was lost in a fog of despair, with no way out. Dante must have sensed it. He had his lawyer transfer all his personal assets to me. He lay in that hospital bed, his hand, pale and weak, stroking my face, patiently wiping away my endless tears. He told me that meeting me was the one thing in his life he didn’t regret. But then, in a move that shocked everyone… One day I accepted his fortune. The next, I was in the arms of another man. I didn’t stay by his side. I didn’t comfort him through his final days. I betrayed him, jumping ship to a man who had a better chance of winning. And that man was his father’s favorite illegitimate son. 7 The rumors spread like wildfire. Everyone pointed their fingers at me. Dante’s friends cursed me out on sight. “What did you expect? Girls like her don’t have a loyal bone in their body.” “She saw Dante was dying, that he was going to lose the inheritance, and she immediately latched onto the next best thing. Noah Jennings. Damn, she’s a cold-hearted strategist. I really underestimated her.” “Bitches have no loyalty. My dad was right. Play with them, sure, but marry a girl from your own world.” The gossip was everywhere. Dante, hearing it, begged to see me. His friends, despite hating me, came and pleaded with me to go. When I saw him again, he looked even more fragile than before. He grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, and his voice trembled. “They’re saying you’re with him. I don’t believe it. I need to hear it from you.” He looked at me, his eyes pleading. “It’s a misunderstanding, right? I know you wouldn’t do this to me.” I pulled my hand from his grasp, my gaze cold and distant. “Dante, I don’t love you anymore.” He flinched as if I’d struck him. His eyes instantly turned red. The proud, untouchable man I knew seemed to crumble right before my eyes, all his arrogance stripped away. To this day, I can still see his face, wet with tears. He clung to my hand, his voice breaking as he begged me not to go. He cried, promising he would fight for the inheritance, for me. He would win it all if I just stayed. But I just stood there, watching him fall apart. Finally, one of his friends couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled Dante away and shoved me out of the room. “Get out! Go run back to your new boy toy and get the hell out of here!” he roared. “Don’t you ever show your face again! If Dante doesn’t make it through this, we will come for you! I swear on my life!” 8 I finally got off my night shift at 8 a.m. I’d been asleep for less than four hours when my phone rang. It was my colleague, telling me to get back to the hotel immediately. The guest in the presidential suite had reported a valuable item missing. All sleepiness vanished. I threw on my clothes and rushed back. When I walked into the hotel’s meeting room, the first person I saw was Dante, lounging on the sofa. His girlfriend was nestled against him. My manager stood off to the side, a strained, apologetic smile on his face. Dante’s girlfriend had discovered this morning that a pair of diamond earrings, valued at half a million dollars, were missing from her room. The only people who had been inside their suite last night were me and the housekeeper. The housekeeper had already been questioned and searched, with nothing found. The woman pointed a perfectly manicured finger at me, her voice dripping with disdain. “Strip. Let’s see what you’re hiding.” 9 My eyes instinctively flickered to Dante. He had watched my every move last night. How could I have possibly stolen anything right under his nose? But he showed no intention of defending me. He just sat there, one leg crossed over the other, a cold, detached observer to my humiliation. My manager scurried over, whispering, “We can’t afford to offend him, Ava. Just… play along. It’s just for show.” I clutched my shoulder bag tighter, lifting my chin in defiance. “If you suspect me of theft, then call the police. You have no right to search me yourselves.” At that, the woman shot to her feet, her tone becoming sharp and aggressive. “My boyfriend is a very busy man. We don’t have time to waste at a police station. Those earrings are worth over half a million dollars. They were a birthday present from him.” She glared at me. “I knew there was something off about you last night. I step out of the shower and you’re practically sprinting out the door. If you weren’t guilty, why were you in such a hurry to run away?” Before I could react, she lunged forward and snatched my bag. I held on tight, refusing to let go, but she was surprisingly strong. With a final, vicious tug, she ripped it from my grasp. The zipper screeched open as she turned the bag upside down, shaking its contents onto the floor. A small, crystal moon hit the polished wood and shattered into a dozen pieces. Dante’s gaze fell on the broken shards. For the first time, a crack appeared in his stoic facade. He swallowed hard, his voice low and gravelly. “That’s enough. Stop it.” He turned to his girlfriend. “I’ll buy you a new pair tomorrow. Pick whatever you want.”

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The day before my global piano master competition, intruders stormed into my home. They brutally murdered my parents and grievously harmed my sister, leaving her irrevocably traumatized. It was my childhood friend who bravely came to my rescue, apprehending the assailants and bringing them to justice. She also tenderly handled all the funeral arrangements for my family, as I was too distraught to leave the house. Though I was left with a persistent tremor in my hands, making it impossible to play the piano again, she remained steadfastly by my side. She even defied her parents’ objections to marry me. Five days before our wedding, I overheard her unexpected phone call with her private doctor from outside the door: “Ms. Sullivan, five years ago you hired someone to cause an accident to the Baker family. You’ve already ruined Mr. Baker once. Are you really going to be so cruel as to ruin him a second time?” “I promised Lucas I would help him achieve his dream.” “Only if Everett Baker was out of the picture could Lucas stand on that stage to receive the World Piano Master award.” “Lucas is my reason for being, my everything. For Lucas, I’m willing to bear any burden…” Outside the door, tears silently streamed down my face. My heartbroken eyes shattered, consumed by a fierce hatred. So, her so-called love for me was nothing but a lie. 1 “Investigate the truth behind the Baker family tragedy.” Only after making that call to the private investigator did I wipe the dry tears from my face. It seemed there were no more tears left to shed. Inside the room, Willow Sullivan’s voice resonated. “As long as Lucas is happy, I have no regrets.” The private doctor on the other end reluctantly asked, “But Mr. Baker’s hands have finally fully recovered. Are you sure you want to…” Willow’s answer was instantaneous, without a moment of hesitation. “Only by completely extinguishing his desire to play the piano can Lucas remain the most brilliant piano master.” The private doctor nervously pressed, “What if he finds out you orchestrated the accident for his parents and sister, all for Lucas to win an award?!” Willow fell silent for a moment, tracing the wedding ring on her finger. After a long pause, she spoke, her voice hoarse: “As long as I’m always good to him, he’ll never suspect me…” “I’ve already married him. Repaying him with my entire life, that should be enough.” Just a door away. Hearing these words, my heart, betrayed in that instant, nearly cried out in pain. My lips were bitten until they bled, my nails practically embedded in my flesh. I somehow maintained my composure, quietly returning to the room. In our wedding chamber, I gazed absently at our wedding photo hanging on the wall. In the picture, her eyes, filled with tenderness, now struck me as sinister and terrifying. On a nearby table sat our family photo. My father, mother, and sister, surrounding me, cherishing me. I still remembered that day when the intruders broke into our home. My father, trying to buy us time to escape, rushed forward to fight them but was tragically overcome and silenced. My mother, attempting to shield my sister and me, desperately blocked the door, only to be gravely injured. My sister, though physically unharmed by the intruders, was deeply scarred and traumatized by the horrific events. Had Willow not arrived in time to save me, I too would have perished. Yet, everyone whispered that I had led my family to their fate, that I had only survived by using their lives to buy time. I was powerless to defend myself. My adopted brother, Lucas Baker, seemed to share this belief. My reputation was ruined, my life plunged into an abyss. Under immense pressure, my mental health deteriorated, leaving me with a persistent tremor in my hands, making it impossible to play the piano, unable even to hold a fork steady. I truly believed I had abandoned my family and selfishly clung to life. When I was on the verge of jumping from the thirtieth floor, consumed by despair, it was Willow who pulled me back. Under her meticulous care, my condition gradually improved. I even accepted her proposal, despite the malicious rumors surrounding me. I never imagined that her love, which had melted my heart and soul, was the meticulously crafted product of endless malice. It was more chilling than poison disguised with honey. My hands, which hadn’t trembled in a long time, violently shook, sending our family photo crashing to the floor. Hearing the noise, Willow immediately rushed in. “Everett, what’s wrong…” Seeing me standing amidst sharp shards on the floor, clutching the broken family photo, my eyes red-rimmed, her breath hitched. She quickly walked over and pulled me into her embrace. The scent of wisteria perfume, one I’d smelled countless times, wafted over me. It was my favorite. Her voice was soft as she comforted me: “Don’t cry… Uncle and Auntie will be happy seeing you happy up in heaven.” I gently pushed her away, creating some distance. “I’m fine, it’s just my hand tremor acting up again.” Hearing my reply, Willow seemed to relax slightly. She gently felt my wrist bones, her touch so delicate, as if afraid to break them. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll go pick out the wedding dress.” I couldn’t distinguish her feelings for me. How much was genuine, how much was false? I had been countless times captivated by the subtle affection she showed, lost in it beyond recovery. Her pity for me seemed real. But her deception and manipulation were also real. Now, seeing that tender expression, I only felt disgust. I nodded, but didn’t tell her. Once I uncovered the truth of that year, it would be over between us. 2 Early the next morning, we drove to the city’s most renowned bridal boutique. With only four days left until the wedding, our outfits were still undecided. Willow had said she was hand-making a dress for me, a unique, one-of-a-kind gown. At the boutique, the assistant asked me to wait on the sofa. Willow smiled, pulling me down beside her. “You’ll love it.” In the past, I would have eagerly awaited the surprise she had prepared. But now, I only felt cynical. My phone rang. It was a message from the private investigator. Mr. Baker, I’ve found some past information about Willow Sullivan and Lucas Baker. I watched the messages pop up on my phone, unable to control my trembling hands. Seeing this, Willow quickly took my hand, asking worriedly, “What’s wrong?” I subtly withdrew my hand, suddenly feeling she was a complete stranger. It turned out her profound love, meticulous in its details, all carried Lucas Baker’s shadow. Under his influence, I had gradually grown to love wisteria perfume. It was a unique blend she had personally created for Lucas, his exclusive scent. That’s why she would spray it all over herself before we became intimate. I used to think it was a sign of her love for me. It was, in fact, proof that her heart belonged to someone else. Even the soft kiss she’d give me under the covers before sleep each night, was a habit Lucas had indulged in with her, a childish plea for affection. Willow looked at my withdrawn hand, momentarily stunned. Just then, the assistant brought out the suit she had designed for me. The moment I saw it, my heart seemed to stop beating. It was the most opulent attire I had ever seen. Beside it hung a pure white wedding dress, perfectly matched. Willow, smiling, looked at me expectantly, as if awaiting praise: “Everett, are you happy?” She said she had traveled to various countries, sought countless masters, and poured her heart and soul into designing this suit. But the video on my phone showed Lucas Baker wearing an identical suit, the very same “one-of-a-kind” suit right before my eyes. In the video, the two of them, dressed in a wedding gown and suit, spoke their vows with deep affection, swearing to dedicate their entire lives to each other. Every word was devoid of evasion or jest, utterly sincere. A wave of sorrow washed over me. I began to doubt if the fleeting pain in her eyes yesterday was truly due to concern for me, or if it was the guilt buried deep in her heart, taking root. 3 That day at the bridal shop, I didn’t give Willow Sullivan an answer. She was called away by a phone call and then vanished. She claimed it was a company emergency, but I knew it was for Lucas Baker. With only two days left until the wedding, I decided to visit my parents and my sister. I needed to tell them my decision. When I arrived at the cemetery, I saw the two people who least should have been there. Willow and Lucas Baker, dressed formally, stood before the graves of my parents and sister. Lucas held a trophy, representing the World Piano Master award, sobbing uncontrollably. “Dad, Mom, sis, your son wishes you could have witnessed this, seen that I haven’t disgraced you…” With that, Lucas placed the trophy at the grave and gently brushed dust from the photos. Willow reached out, as if to embrace his arm. My appearance instantly changed their expressions. Willow’s hand, about to reach Lucas, froze for a moment, then quickly dropped. She explained to me, “Everett, it’s not what you think. Lucas and I…” Her eyes held a nervous tension, her slender fingers unconsciously clenching. She seemed genuinely afraid I would misunderstand. I glanced at her, saying nothing. I just looked at Lucas and spoke softly: “Brother, when did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me before visiting Mom and Dad, and sis?” Lucas wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up again. “Your most unworthy son has finally achieved something. I wanted Mom and Dad to praise me.” He paused, his voice catching. “I hope you can forgive my selfishness…” Lucas broke down in tears again. Willow’s eyes were filled with complex emotions. Her hand rose several times but ultimately did not reach for his arm. “Brother, Everett is marrying Willow. He must have something to say. I borrowed Willow for a while; it’s time to give her back to Everett.” After Lucas left, Willow came over to me. Her anxiety escalated, her lips pressed into a thin line: “Lucas and I, it’s not what you think.” Seeing my silence, she seemed to panic, reaching out to grasp my hand. Suddenly, her phone vibrated with a distinctive ringtone. Her outstretched hand froze mid-air. I silently watched her struggle for a moment, then reach for her phone. In the past, whenever we were together, whether on a date, at dinner, or during more intimate moments, she had left me countless times because of that specific ringtone. She’d claimed it was an urgent work matter that couldn’t be postponed. But now I knew it was her exclusive ringtone for Lucas. She looked at me with guilt. “Lucas and I really have nothing going on. I have work to handle now. Please be careful going home alone.” With that, she hurried away. Watching her retreating figure, I felt neither sorrow nor joy. I simply looked at my family’s gravestones, the memory of that night replaying in my mind. My phone buzzed again with a new lead from the detective. All of this, finally, was coming to an end. 4 The final day before the wedding. The private investigator sent more clues. Mr. Baker, I’ve found some leads regarding the mastermind, but I hope you’re mentally prepared. I clicked on the video he sent. It was the same dimly lit, damp rental room. I noticed a shattered trophy on the floor. It was the second-place trophy from the national piano competition when I was fifteen. The first place had gone to me, after only a month of playing piano. In the video, Lucas Baker was crying hysterically in Willow Sullivan’s arms, his face contorted with a resentment I’d never seen before. “Why, why after ten years of hard practice am I still not as good as him…?” “I hate it so much, I can’t accept it… Why does he even exist? If he disappeared, if he died, the championship would be mine!” “The championship should have been mine all along!” Listening to the beast-like roar from his throat, listening to him curse me, damn me, wishing for my death, I watched the pain in Willow’s eyes harden into ice, as if she was making a grim decision. “I will help you achieve your dream, even if I have to bear everything…” My already fractured heart shattered completely. After calming down, I called Lucas Baker. He seemed to have been waiting a long time. “I thought you’d never come looking for me.” I pursed my lips and asked him, “Shall we meet?”

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

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