Category: English

Under the spotlight, Ethan Wyatt gave away what should have been my endorsement deal to his first love, treating it as a reunion gift. “Hailey, Serena needs this title more than you do.” Eight years of secret love, four years of a hidden relationship. I spent my youth helping him build his empire, yet he casually handed away the project I’d poured three months of blood, sweat, and tears into. On that rainy night when stomach cramps left me writhing in pain, I called him, only to hear him tenderly coaxing someone else. To me, he had just one cold sentence. “Get lost. Don’t bother me.” That moment, I finally understood. In his heart, I wasn’t even qualified to compete for his affection. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I burned every memory of him and canceled my phone number. Ethan Wyatt, I’m done playing the fool for love. Hailey POV The Starlight Awards venue was ablaze with intersecting spotlights and bustling energy. I sat in the VIP section of the front row, my flawless makeup glowing under the lights. As a top beauty influencer with over thirty million followers, I deserved this attention. But at that moment, my racing heart was because of another man. Ethan Wyatt, CEO of Wyatt Corporation. Today marked the fourth anniversary of our secret relationship and the eighth year I’d loved him in silence. Before coming here, Ethan’s assistant had hinted that tonight, Wyatt Corporation’s luxury cosmetics brand “Mystique” would announce me as their first global ambassador. This wasn’t just the ultimate validation of my career. It was Ethan’s special promise to me. On stage, Ethan stood in his custom-tailored suit, noble and aloof, his features radiating decisive coldness. He gripped the microphone, his deep voice resonating throughout the venue. “Tonight, I will announce Mystique’s global ambassador.” I took a deep breath, unable to suppress the slight curve of my lips. “She is… Serena Mitchell.” A crash echoed in my mind as the taut string inside me snapped instantly, the smile freezing on my face. The venue erupted in applause, but I couldn’t hear anything anymore. Serena Mitchell? That ex-girlfriend who’d occupied a corner of Ethan’s heart for years but had decisively left for abroad four years ago? The spotlight instantly swung to the other side of the audience. Serena, in a white dress like a pure swan, rose amid gasps from the crowd, lifted her skirt hem, and walked onto the stage. Her eyes reddened as she threw herself into Ethan’s arms. And that man who always had a severe case of mysophobia and maintained cold distance. He didn’t push her away. Instead, he naturally wrapped his arm around her waist, his eyes showing a tenderness I’d never seen in four years. “Serena just came back. This endorsement is my gift to her.” Ethan spoke into the microphone, his tone dripping with affection. The crowd below erupted. Media flashbulbs went crazy. Everyone marveled at Mr. Wyatt’s devotion, but no one noticed that I, sitting in the front row, had lost all color in my face. My pride in staying composed shattered in that instant. For this endorsement, I’d worked nonstop for three months, turned down all other brand collaborations, and even created countless free promotional reviews for “Mystique.” Ethan knew exactly how important this endorsement was to me. But the moment Serena returned, all my efforts became a joke. After the event ended, I don’t know how I made it to the VIP lounge backstage. I pushed open the door to find Ethan bent over, adjusting the hem of Serena’s dress. Hearing the sound, Ethan straightened up, his expression instantly reverting to its usual coldness. “Hailey? Perfect timing. Serena just got back and isn’t familiar with the beauty industry here yet. Half of those top-tier resources you have. Transfer them to her team first.” His tone was flat, as if discussing the weather. My fingernails dug into my palms as I fought to keep my voice from trembling. “Mr. Wyatt, we already signed a letter of intent for the Mystique endorsement.” Ethan frowned slightly, seemingly displeased by my lack of understanding. “Serena needs this title more than you to break into the market. You’re already top-tier. One less endorsement won’t affect you much. Be good. Don’t make a fuss.” Be good. Don’t make a fuss. Those words were like a dull knife, sawing back and forth across my heart. Looking at Ethan’s matter-of-fact expression, I suddenly found these eight years of feelings absurdly laughable.

Hailey POV “Ethan, this is my career.” I looked directly at him, my voice not loud but carrying a stubborn resolve. “I can give up the endorsement, but the resources my team worked hard to negotiate. Why should I hand them over?” The moment I finished speaking, Serena, hiding behind Ethan, gently tugged his sleeve, her voice extremely soft. “Ethan, forget it. Hailey might have misunderstood me. I don’t want to affect your working relationship because of me. I don’t need the resources. I’ll just work my way up slowly.” “You just got back. How are you going to build your career?” Ethan gripped Serena’s hand in return, and when he turned to look at me, his eyes had completely frozen over. “Hailey, since when did you become so petty? Don’t forget. You only got where you are because of the company’s platform. Now the company needs to reallocate resources, and as a contracted influencer, you must follow the company’s arrangements.” My heart turned completely cold. So in his eyes, all my achievements from four years of endless makeup testing, script writing, and late-night livestreams were just handouts from Ethan Wyatt. I took a deep breath, suppressing the sourness in my eyes, straightening my spine. “Fine. I’ll follow company arrangements.” With that, I turned and pulled open the door, leaving without a trace of lingering attachment. The moment the door closed, I heard Serena’s saccharine voice. “Ethan, is Hailey angry? The way she looked at me was so scary.” “Don’t mind her. She’s always been sensible. She’ll be fine in a couple days.” Ethan’s voice was still so confident. I stopped in the empty hallway, tilted my head back, and blinked back my tears. Yes, I was so sensible that he thought I had no heart and felt no pain. Over the next few days, I truly experienced what “resource reallocation” meant. The international luxury magazine cover I’d already booked was suddenly switched to Serena. The prime position at the annual beauty awards my team had spent half a month planning was forcibly given to Serena. Even my exclusive top-tier photography studio was commandeered by Serena under the pretext of “needing to shoot makeup test photos.” My assistant cried in the studio. “Hailey, they’re going too far! You stayed up three nights straight perfecting that lighting, and she takes it with one word?” I sat in front of the makeup mirror, looking at my slightly haggard reflection, and calmly handed my assistant a tissue. “Let her use it.” I wasn’t unwilling to fight. I just knew I couldn’t win. In this industry, money makes the rules, and Ethan Wyatt was the biggest money of all. With him favoring Serena, I didn’t even have room to resist. That evening, Ethan unexpectedly returned to the luxury penthouse we shared. He seemed to have forgotten the conflict from days earlier, hugging me from behind as I removed my makeup, resting his chin in the crook of my neck, his tone carrying a trace of patronizing warmth. “Had a rough few days? Tomorrow I’ll take you to pick out a bag as compensation.” I looked at our overlapping figures in the mirror, my heart filled with endless desolation. “No need.” I gently pulled away from his embrace. “I don’t need it.” Ethan’s hand froze in midair, his brow furrowing. “Hailey, enough is enough. I’ve already given your resources to Serena. Compensating you is only fair. Why do you have to act all cold like this? Who are you trying to show?”

Hailey POV “I’m not putting on an act. I’m just tired.” I turned to face him, looking directly into Ethan’s eyes. Those eyes that had captivated me for eight years now only felt strange. Ethan looked at my calm expression, his brow slightly furrowed, seeming irritated. In the past, the slightest kindness from him would make my eyes light up like stars. This current distant attitude seemed to make him feel like he’d lost control. “If you’re tired, rest for a few days.” His tone was stiff. “You don’t need to do tomorrow night’s Starry Night livestream. Give your prime time slot to Serena. She just took on the Mystique endorsement and needs a wave of major traffic exposure.” I clenched the makeup remover cotton in my hand. “Starry Night” was my annual fan appreciation special. Fans had been posting countdown anticipation on social media for two weeks. Now he wanted me to cancel last minute and redirect millions of viewers to Serena? “Ethan, this is my promise to my fans. I can’t give it up.” For the first time, I refused him with such a firm tone. Ethan’s expression darkened. “Hailey, don’t make me repeat myself. Serena’s livestream debut can’t have any mishaps. You have a strong fan base and the best traffic conversion. Think of the bigger picture. Do you understand?” “The bigger picture? Your bigger picture is using my hard work to pave her path?” My eyes reddened, but my voice turned ice-cold. “Enough!” Ethan cut me off sharply, his eyes as cold as if looking at an unreasonable stranger. “Serena is the person I want to promote. As a company employee, cooperation is your job. If you don’t even have this much generosity, you don’t need to be an influencer with millions of followers either.” With that, he grabbed his coat and slammed the door. The loud bang of the door echoed through the empty apartment as I collapsed into the chair, drained. Wave after wave of sharp pain hit my chest, making it impossible to breathe. The next evening, my livestream went live as scheduled, but the person sitting in front of the camera wasn’t me. It was Serena. I was forced to work behind the scenes as on-site management. Watching Serena on screen use my carefully prepared script to act cute and flirty with my fans, the comments section filled with questions and criticism. “Why isn’t it Hailey? Who is this woman?” “Give us back Hailey! We refuse to watch someone who got in through connections!” “Her skills are terrible. She can’t even get the lipstick shade numbers right!” Looking at the comments, Serena’s eyes instantly reddened as she pitifully addressed the camera. “I’m sorry everyone. This is my first livestream, so I might not be doing well. Hailey wasn’t feeling well, so Ethan asked me to fill in for her…” That one word, “Ethan,” instantly dragged Ethan into the center of controversy while confirming her close relationship with him. After the livestream ended, Serena cried backstage, her face covered in tears. Ethan rushed over upon hearing the news, pulled her into his arms, then turned to look at me with ice-cold, sharp eyes. “I told you to give her the time slot, not to get trolls to attack her in the comments!” Ethan’s voice was freezing cold. I looked at him in disbelief. “You think I hired them?” “Who else would do something like this out of jealousy?” Ethan accused me mercilessly. “Hailey, I never realized how vicious you were.”

Hailey POV “Vicious?” I repeated the word, a cold smile curving my lips. Eight years of wholehearted devotion, four years of silent companionship. In his eyes, they couldn’t compare to a few tears from Serena. My pride, my professionalism, my sincerity. He trampled them all mercilessly underfoot. “Ethan, if I were truly vicious, she wouldn’t have been able to sit in that livestream room today.” My gaze swept coldly over Serena hiding in his arms playing the victim, my tone completely calm. “Those comments were genuine reactions from my fans. If the person you value has poor professional skills, don’t blame the audience for not buying it.” BANG! Ethan violently slammed the documents in his hand onto the table, the enormous crash instantly silencing the entire backstage area. “Hailey, watch your attitude!” He was furious, as if his authority had been challenged. “Post a statement immediately clarifying that you were absent for personal reasons and publicly support Serena. Otherwise, all your commercial partnerships will be indefinitely suspended.” Threatening me with my career? Looking at this man I’d loved for eight years, the last glimmer of light in my eyes finally extinguished completely. “Fine. I’ll post it.” I didn’t yell or cry. I just very calmly took out my phone and, right in front of him, posted an update. No support, no clarification. Just one simple sentence: “As you wish.” After posting, I tossed my phone on the table and turned to walk out of the backstage area. From the corner of my eye, Ethan’s brow seemed deeply furrowed, his expression flashing with what looked like panic, but it was quickly interrupted by Serena’s sobbing. Half a month later, the annual Fashion Gala was held as scheduled. As a prominent beauty influencer, I originally had an exclusive custom starry sky gown from the brand. This dress took two months of communication with the designer to finalize and represented my highest fashion resource of the year. However, two hours before the red carpet began, someone from the brand awkwardly came to my dressing room and handed me an ordinary off-season ready-to-wear piece. “Hailey, we’re terribly sorry. Mr. Wyatt just instructed us to transfer that custom starry sky gown… to Miss Mitchell.” My hand, which had been drawing my eyebrows, jerked to a halt, the eyebrow pencil leaving a glaring red mark at my temple. “He says transfer and you transfer?” My assistant trembled with rage. “That dress was custom-made to Hailey’s measurements. Can Serena even fit in it?” “Mr. Wyatt said if the measurements don’t fit, we can alter it, but Miss Mitchell must be the center of attention tonight.” The brand representative wiped cold sweat, not daring to meet my eyes. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and when I opened them again, my eyes held only deathly silence. Center of attention? By stripping away my dignity to create Serena’s moment of glory? “Hailey, let’s not go! We won’t attend this event!” my assistant pleaded, eyes red. “Attend. Why wouldn’t we attend?” I stood up and took the off-season outfit, my tone devoid of any fluctuation. “It’s just a dress. I didn’t get where I am today because of clothes.” That night on the red carpet, Serena wore that ill-fitting starry sky gown on Ethan Wyatt’s arm, making a grand entrance as the finale. Media cameras captured them like the perfect couple. And I, wearing that plain off-season outfit, walked alone in the cold wind. Around me were undisguised mockery and gossip from industry peers. “So what if she’s top-tier? Offend Mr. Wyatt and she can’t even borrow a decent dress.” I didn’t lower my head. I kept my spine straight, each step resolute. But in the corners where cameras couldn’t reach, watching Ethan thoughtfully shield Serena from the wind, something inside my heart completely collapsed.

Hailey POV Late that night after the Fashion Gala, New York was hit by a torrential downpour. I dragged my exhausted body back to the penthouse I shared with Ethan. The place was pitch black, cold and silent without a trace of life. Between continuous high-intensity work and catching a chill on the red carpet, my chronic stomach condition flared up without warning. The stabbing pain felt like an invisible hand ruthlessly clutching my stomach. I broke out in cold sweat, my whole body curling up on the cold floor. My trembling hands fumbled for my phone, and out of habit, I dialed Ethan’s number. Over these four years, no matter how independent I was, when sick I would instinctively depend on him. Even though he was always busy, even though he would only coldly have his assistant send medicine, I was still willing. The phone rang for a long time before being answered. “What is it?” Ethan’s voice carried a trace of impatience. “Ethan, my stomach hurts… could you… call a doctor for me…” My voice trembled with pain. The other end went silent for a second, then Serena’s sweet voice came through. “Ethan, it’s thundering outside. I’m so scared. Can you please not leave…” My breathing stopped instantly. “It’s just thunder. Don’t be scared, I’m here with you.” Ethan’s voice held a tenderness I’d never heard before. Then he coldly said into the phone, “If your stomach hurts, take medicine yourself. I’m not a doctor. Hailey, stop using these pathetic tactics to compete for my attention and bother me.” The dial tone after he hung up sounded particularly harsh in the silent room. I held the phone and suddenly let out a low laugh. As I laughed, tears uncontrollably fell onto the back of my hand. Competing for attention? So when I was in unbearable pain, he only thought I was competing with Serena for his attention. In that moment, I suddenly felt very tired. Eight years of pursuit, four years of humiliation. I’d lowered myself to the dirt, yet hadn’t earned even a trace of his concern. The stabbing pain in my stomach continued, but the pain in my heart had gone numb. I forced myself to crawl up, not taking medicine or calling a doctor, but instead dragged a suitcase from the closet. This penthouse was huge, filled everywhere with traces of my careful decorating. Matching mugs, matching slippers, curtains I’d personally selected… but now it all seemed like one enormous joke. I didn’t take a single thing Ethan had bought. I only packed a few of my old clothes and essential work items. Makeup brushes and my camera. When I arrived, I was full of joy, thinking I’d finally entered his world. When I left, I was utterly alone, not wanting to take even a trace of memory with me. As the suitcase wheels rolled across the wooden floor with dull thuds, I took one last look at this place I’d lived for four years. “Ethan Wyatt, we’re even now.” I pushed open the door and walked into the raging storm outside. Ice-cold rain hit my face, yet it made me feel more clear-headed than ever before. Later I learned that the next morning, Ethan received a call from his assistant. The assistant told him I’d mailed back my studio keys and access cards to the company and unilaterally submitted a contract termination request to the company’s legal department. I heard that Ethan only gave a cold laugh at the time, thinking I was crazy and couldn’t afford the penalty fee. He was certain I was just throwing a tantrum to make him give in, and even ordered all my resources cut off, wanting to see how long I could stay stubborn.

Hailey POV Ethan probably thought I was playing hard to get, but he underestimated how resolute I could be. Three days after submitting my termination request, the company’s most important publication, “Elite Fashion” magazine, was shooting their annual cover. The original star was supposed to be me, but with one word from Ethan, the star became Serena. That wasn’t all. Ethan even had his assistant deliver an ultimatum: if I wanted a smooth termination, I had to serve as “Lead Makeup Artist” and personally create the cover makeup look for Serena. He wanted me to do styling for the woman who’d stolen my resources and even stolen my boyfriend. This wasn’t just workplace suppression. It was the ultimate trampling on my professional dignity. In the studio, my assistant was so angry she threw things. “Hailey, you can’t go! What does Ethan Wyatt think you are? Your hands create commercial value. They’re not for serving that scheming woman!” I looked at my calm reflection in the mirror, my eyes holding not a trace of emotion. “I’ll go. Why not?” I organized my makeup kit. “This is my last assignment at this company. Once it’s done, I’ll be completely free.” At the shoot location, Serena sat in front of the makeup mirror radiating superiority. Seeing me walk in carrying my makeup kit, triumph flashed in her eyes. “Oh my, Hailey, I’m so sorry. Ethan insisted your skills were the best and made you come do my makeup. How inconvenient for you.” Serena covered her mouth, her tone full of showing off. I didn’t even glance at her, professionally opening my makeup kit. “Miss Mitchell, your skin condition is very poor. The foundation needs to be applied thicker. Close your eyes.” Serena was stung by my cold attitude. She bit her lip and let me apply makeup to her face. For two full hours, I relied on my professional skills to transform Serena’s ordinary face into one with an advanced, cool elegance. Even the photographer beside us couldn’t help but praise it repeatedly. However, halfway through the shoot, Serena suddenly screamed and covered her face. “It hurts so much! My face hurts so much!” The entire venue erupted in chaos. Ethan, hearing the commotion, rushed over from the adjacent conference room and quickly approached Serena. “What happened?” He pushed aside the staff blocking his way and pulled Serena into his arms. Serena looked up. Her face, which had been carefully made up moments ago, was now covered in large patches of red rashes that looked extremely serious. She cried, her whole body trembling, pointing at me standing to the side. “Ethan, it was her… the foundation Hailey used on me has a problem. My face hurts so much. Am I going to be disfigured…” Ethan’s gaze shot toward me, his eyes full of disgust and disbelief. “Hailey, what the hell are you doing?!” he roared, his voice echoing through the photography studio. I stood calmly in place, still holding the foundation bottle. “I only used products from the company’s own line. The batch number and ingredients are all fine. If she’s allergic, it’s her own skin sensitivity, or…” “Enough!” Ethan didn’t listen to my explanation at all, cutting me off directly. “I thought you were just being willful. I didn’t expect that for revenge, you’d abandon even professional ethics! Serena’s work depends entirely on her appearance. You’ve ruined her face. That’s going too far!” Looking at this furious man before me, I suddenly felt strangely unfamiliar. This was the man I’d loved for eight years. Without any evidence, based solely on one sentence from Serena, he’d found me guilty. “Ethan, do you believe that anything Serena says must be true?” My voice was soft but carried bone-chilling coldness. “The facts are right in front of us. You still want to make excuses?” Ethan looked at me coldly. “Apologize to Serena immediately! Otherwise, I’ll have the entire industry blacklist you so you can never work in this field again!”

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My childhood sweetheart Alpha Logan promised to mark me after my first shift at eighteen. But on the day of the First Shift Ceremony, he marked my stepsister Serena’s neck in front of everyone. And Alpha Cain, the most powerful Alpha from the neighboring territory, walked up to me while the crowd was still in shock, dropped to one knee, and asked if I’d be his Luna. For three years after the mating, he treated me like I was everything. I thought it was the Moon Goddess’s way of making it up to me. Until I opened his safe. Inside were over a thousand photos of Serena. And a letter in his handwriting— “Serena, since I can’t make you my Luna, I’ll protect you for the rest of my life.” So that’s why he’d kept me away from herbal research for three years. It wasn’t because he was worried about me overworking myself. He was afraid my talent would overshadow Serena and threaten her position as chief healer. So I planned a fake death. If you love her that much, then let’s never see each other again. But when he saw my “body”—why did he lose his mind?

I pressed the end-call button. On the other end was my contact from the Rogues. Every detail was confirmed—the night after tomorrow, our mating anniversary, the Rogues would stage a fake attack. I’d swallow an herbal concoction I’d brewed myself, one that would sever the mate bond between me and Cain completely. He’d feel me die. Then the Rogues would pick me up at the meeting point, and I’d vanish. Two more days, and it would all be over. The door clicked. Cain walked in, tossed his car keys on the entryway counter, and noticed the phone still in my hand. “Who were you calling?” “Checking on an herbal formula. There’s a new strain I want to try.” He didn’t push it. He came up behind me, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll take you shopping tomorrow. Get whatever you like. The day after is our mating anniversary—I booked an island getaway. We’ll spend a couple of days there.” I leaned into his arms and said nothing. Three years. This was how he always came to me. Gentle. Attentive. Like a husband no one could find fault with. But I already knew. It was nothing more than a routine he repeated every day. The next morning, Cain got dressed and stood at the bedroom door to tell me shopping was off. “A few Packs’ Alphas organized a healer symposium. Someone’s presenting a new antidote for silver poisoning—supposedly revolutionary for battlefield treatment. I have to be there.” “I want to go too.” He frowned. “You haven’t been sleeping well lately. It’ll be loud and crowded—not good for you. Stay home and rest.” I didn’t say anything else. For three years, every time the Pack needed healers to show up for something, he’d blocked me out. When I applied to set up an herbal lab in the Pack, he said, “No need—Serena already has one.” When I wanted to register for the regional healer certification, he said, “You’re not strong enough. Healing takes too much out of you.” At first, I actually believed him. I thought he was being protective. Looking back now, he just couldn’t let me show up anywhere Serena would be. If anyone saw my talent, her path to chief healer wouldn’t be so smooth. Cain grabbed his jacket, walked to the door, then turned back. “On our anniversary—nowhere else. Just the two of us.” I nodded. After he left, I started packing the things I’d take with me. Passing the study, I noticed the safe in the corner. I stared at it for a few seconds, then crouched down and tried a passcode. Cain’s birthday. Wrong. My birthday. Also wrong. My hands trembling, I tried Serena’s birthday. The lock popped open. Inside, stacked in neat piles, were photos—all of Serena. Some were taken without her knowing. Others looked like she’d sent them to him herself. Beneath the photos was an old phone. I opened it. The gallery was full of videos of Serena. In that moment, something inside me died for good.

I put the letter and the phone back exactly as they were and closed the safe. My hands were still shaking, but my mind was perfectly clear. I grabbed the car keys and drove to the symposium. By the time I got there, the hall was packed. The stage lights were on, and Serena stood at the center, rows of herbal samples and a projection screen laid out in front of her. Five or six Alphas from different Packs sat in the audience, along with healers from every territory—at least a few dozen people. She was presenting a silver poisoning antidote. Starting from the base herbal ratios, she built it up step by step—which herbs formed the foundation, how to purify moonflower extract, what temperature range to maintain, and how to administer the dosage in stages. I sat in the last row, and the more I listened, the more familiar it sounded. Not “similar.” Identical. The herb ratios were mine. The purification process was mine. The staged-dosage method was mine. Then Serena said something: “Moonflower must be harvested on the night of the new moon. Miss that window, and the potency drops by at least half.” That line doesn’t appear in any textbook. It was a conclusion I’d reached after three rounds of experiments, written only in my private notebook. I’d never told a soul. The entire audience rose to their feet, applauding. Several Alphas stood up on the spot and invited Serena to serve as a guest healer in their territories. Someone said this formula would revolutionize battlefield treatment across the entire werewolf world. Someone else called Serena the most promising healer of her generation. Before the applause even died down, Serena spotted me. She came down from the stage, walked straight toward me, grabbed my hand in front of everyone, her voice dripping with concern: “What are you doing here? Cain told me you haven’t been feeling well. You drove all this way by yourself?” I pulled my hand free. The next second, she stumbled backward, staggered two steps, and collapsed to the ground. The crowd erupted. Cain appeared out of nowhere, crouched down to help Serena up, then looked up at me with a stare cold enough to cut. “She was just worried about you. Was that really necessary?” Serena leaned against his arm and shook her head, her voice soft and fragile: “Don’t blame her. I just lost my footing.” I didn’t explain. I knew this act by heart. She’d pulled it countless times over the past three years—always the same playbook. Show kindness first, then fall, and suddenly everyone thinks I’m the problem. The applause started up again, but this time it wasn’t for the formula. An Elder from the Alliance took the stage and announced that, in recognition of Serena’s outstanding contributions to the field of healing, she would be formally awarded the title of Alliance Chief Healer Consultant. The moment those words landed, the Elder added with a smile: “And one more piece of good news—Serena is pregnant. Alpha Logan is about to have an heir.” The whole room exploded. Cheers, whistles, clinking glasses—all blurred together. I didn’t look at Serena. I didn’t look at Logan. I looked at Cain. He was standing at the edge of the crowd, wearing a perfectly calibrated smile of congratulation, a glass of wine in his hand. But when the Elder said “Serena is pregnant,” his fingers tightened around the glass for just a fraction of a second. His smile froze for less than a heartbeat. Too brief. No one else in the room caught it. But I did. I’d spent three years with this man, and never once had he shown that kind of slip over anything related to me. Not even for a second. On the drive back, the car was silent. I spoke first. “The silver poisoning formula Serena presented today is exactly the same as the research I was doing.” Cain kept his eyes on the road. Two seconds passed before he answered. “Healing’s a small field. It’s normal for research to overlap.” “Even the detail about harvesting moonflower on the night of the new moon?” “Then it means you both reached the same conclusion.” I didn’t ask again. The photos in the safe. The videos on the phone. The notes that had vanished from my study at some point. And the words that came out of Serena’s mouth—words I’d only ever written down myself. Every piece of the puzzle was in place. I didn’t need him to admit it. Trees slid past the window. The sky was almost dark. I leaned against the glass and said it like an afterthought. “Let’s skip the island for our anniversary.” He glanced at me. “Take me to Moonfall Lake.” “Moonfall Lake?” “Where you first marked me.” I looked at him. “Just the two of us. I want to spend a night by the lake.” Cain was quiet for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll arrange it.” He had no idea Moonfall Lake was the rendezvous point I’d arranged with the Rogues.

On the evening of our anniversary, I finished packing everything I needed. An hour before we were supposed to leave, Cain’s phone rang. He picked up, listened for less than thirty seconds, and his expression changed. He hung up and told me Serena wasn’t feeling well—probably a pregnancy symptom. He needed to go check on her. He’d be right back. “Go,” I said. “I’ll drive to the lake myself. Meet me there when you’re done.” “An hour. At most.” I nodded. I drove to Moonfall Lake alone. The sky wasn’t fully dark yet when I arrived. I sat on a rock by the shore and took out my phone. Someone had just shared a photo in the Pack group chat. Serena lying on a couch, someone behind her pulling a blanket over her shoulders. The photo only caught one of his hands—but the tattoo on his wrist was the totem that only the Alpha of Blackthorn Pack carried. The caption was from Serena: “When you’re not feeling well, having someone by your side makes everything okay.” I called Cain. It rang three times. Then the call was cut off. I called again. This time Serena answered, her voice languid: “Cain just fell asleep. Is it urgent? I can pass along a message.” I hung up. He didn’t come. Not all night. The lake was quiet. The wind came off the water, cutting straight to the bone. At four in the morning, I called Cain one last time. Powered off. I stood up, opened my phone, and set the file package I’d prepared to send on a three-hour delay—straight to Blackthorn Pack’s public communication channel. The package contained three things. First, scans of every page of my handwritten herbal research notes, each one bearing my handwriting and dates. Second, a side-by-side comparison of every “breakthrough” Serena had published over the years, matched line by line against my notes. Third, the photos from the safe. At the end, I’d attached a message— “I was Cain’s fated mate for three years. In those three years, he handed my research to another woman, erased my name from my own work, and told me to stay home and rest. Today is our mating anniversary. He promised to be here. He didn’t come. This is the last time.” I pulled the herbal concoction from my pocket, tilted my head back, and swallowed it. In fifteen minutes, the bond between me and Cain would be forcibly severed. He would feel the tearing agony of a mate’s death. The Rogues were already nearby. I sent a message: Move in. Then I sat back down on the rock and waited for the herbs to take effect. On the other side. Cain jolted awake in Serena’s apartment, seized by a bolt of searing pain. His chest felt like something was ripping it apart from the center. The pain doubled him over. The bond was severed. His Beta’s call came through, voice trembling. “Alpha—Luna was attacked by rogues at Moonfall Lake. She’s been… she’s been torn apart.”

It was still dark when Cain burst out of Serena’s apartment. He started the car and tore toward Moonfall Lake, one hand on the wheel, the other dialing my number over and over. Every time, the same automated message—powered off. His Beta called in, voice tight: “Alpha, the patrol team is at the lake. All they found was Luna’s jacket and her phone. The water’s too deep—they can’t see anything.” “Did she contact anyone in the Pack before this?” “She tried calling you multiple times last night. None of them went through. The patrol tried to reach you too—no answer on your end either.” Cain glanced at his phone. The screen was lined with over twenty missed calls—mine, his Beta’s, the patrol team’s. All from after he’d fallen asleep at Serena’s place. The phone hadn’t been turned off. It had been switched to silent, and it wasn’t on him—it was on the coffee table in the living room. He was certain he hadn’t put it on silent. He dialed Serena’s number. Her voice came through, tinged with hurt: “I didn’t touch your phone. Maybe you bumped it when you set it down. How could you accuse me over something like this?” Cain didn’t respond. He hung up and floored the gas. By the time he reached Moonfall Lake, the sun was up. A perimeter of caution tape surrounded the shore. The patrol team and several Elders were standing by the water. The Gamma came over and reported in a low voice: my jacket had been folded neatly, placed on a rock at the water’s edge, my phone tucked beneath it, screen unlocked. The patrol had swept the entire perimeter of the lake. At the edge of the cliff, they’d found footprints—facing the water. An underground river ran beneath the lake. The current was deep and fast. Anyone who fell in wouldn’t come back up. An Elder walked over and asked Cain: “Has your Luna been acting unusual lately?” Cain shook his head. “She was fine. Nothing out of the ordinary.” The Gamma looked at him but said nothing. Cain was still standing by the lake when his phone buzzed. His Beta again. Something off in his tone: “Alpha, you need to check the Pack communication channel.” Cain opened the channel. My timed message had gone out. The first post was my notes. Dozens of pages of handwritten herbal research, every page in my handwriting, dates marked in the bottom right corner—the earliest entries going back three years. The complete derivation of the silver poisoning antidote filled an entire chapter—from initial hypothesis, through rounds of revision, to the final version. “Moonflower must be harvested on the night of the new moon”—that line was written in the margin of page three, with an arrow drawn beside it. The second post was a comparison. My original notes on the left. Screenshots from the slides Serena had used at the healer symposium on the right. Not similar in direction—identical, down to the punctuation. The third post was the safe. The input log on the combination lock screen, showing the last successful code was Serena’s birthday. Photos taken after the door was opened—piled with pictures of Serena, along with video screenshots. The last post was a message. “I was Cain’s fated mate for three years. In those three years, he handed my research to another woman, erased my name from my own work, and told me to stay home and rest. Today is our mating anniversary. He promised to be here. He didn’t come. This is the last time.” Cain’s hand was shaking as he held his phone. He scrolled back through the photos of my notes, page by page. He’d seen those notebooks before. They’d always been on the shelf in my study. He’d catch a glimpse of them when he walked past. But he’d never once opened a single page. The Pack communication channel had erupted. Everyone was sharing, everyone was talking. The news spread from Blackthorn Pack to the neighboring Packs, then to the Alliance. In under three hours, the entire community knew—the Alpha of Blackthorn Pack’s Luna was the true creator of that formula, and the woman who’d been awarded the title of Alliance Chief Healer Consultant had built her reputation on stolen work.

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“Ethan, if she takes this medicine, she won’t live past next month, right?” “When she’s dead, that huge insurance payout will be our baby’s formula money.” I stared at the smart fish tank’s surveillance feed on my phone, listening to my husband Ethan Carter and his “good friend” Mandy’s conversation, my whole body going cold. He was pouring my anti-cancer targeted therapy medication down the drain, replacing it with cheap vitamin pills. And I had just received my follow-up report from the hospital—misdiagnosis. I never had cancer at all. “Summer, how are you feeling today? Did you take your medicine on time?” Ethan Carter pushed open the bedroom door, holding a glass of warm water in his hand, his face wearing an impeccably gentle smile. Summer Lynn looked at the white pills in his hand, her stomach churning. “I feel a bit nauseous. I’ll take them later.” Summer Lynn turned her head away, avoiding his outstretched hand. “That won’t do. The doctor said you can’t skip this targeted therapy for even a single day.” Ethan Carter sat down on the edge of the bed, his tone carrying an undeniable firmness. He sighed and reached out to feel Summer Lynn’s forehead. “Summer, I know you’re suffering, but these pills cost thirty thousand dollars a bottle.” “I went to three different cities to get them for you. You can’t waste my efforts like this.” Summer Lynn looked at those eyes filled with deep affection, but in her mind replayed the surveillance footage from ten minutes ago. He had poured the thirty-thousand-dollar life-saving medication down the drain without hesitation. Then replaced it with vitamin pills that cost just a few dollars a bottle. “What’s wrong? Why are you spacing out?” Ethan Carter pushed the glass of water forward. “Take them quickly. Be good.” “Ethan Carter, do you really want me to take these?” Summer Lynn stared into his eyes, her voice hoarse. Ethan Carter’s gaze flickered briefly, but he quickly put on a hurt expression. “What do you mean by that?” “I’ve sold everything I own to pay for your treatment, and now you’re doubting me?” He stood up abruptly, the glass hitting the nightstand heavily. Water splashed out, wetting the copy of the diagnosis on the table. “Summer Lynn, why have you become so unreasonable since you got sick?” “I work myself to death at the company every day, then come home to take care of you. Have some conscience!” This was his usual trick. Whenever Summer Lynn showed even the slightest disobedience, he would immediately take the moral high ground. Using guilt to manipulate her, forcing her to submit. “I’m just asking. Why are you so worked up?” Summer Lynn let out a cold laugh, her gaze sweeping over his slightly trembling fingertips. “How can I not be worked up! Watching you suffer, I’m in more pain than anyone!” Ethan Carter raised his voice, trying to mask his guilty conscience with anger. Just then, Ethan Carter’s phone rang. He picked it up and glanced at it, the anger on his face instantly disappearing. Replaced by a hint of barely perceptible panic. “Something urgent came up at work. I need to take this call.” He hurriedly turned and walked to the balcony, deliberately sliding the glass door shut. Summer Lynn didn’t move. She simply picked up the tablet from the nightstand. She opened the smart fish tank’s listening function. The voice from the balcony came through clearly. “Mandy, what’s wrong? Is the baby kicking you?” Ethan Carter’s voice was so gentle it could drip honey. “Ethan, I’m so scared. The doctor just said my progesterone is a bit low.” Mandy’s coquettish voice rang out. “Can you come keep me company?” “Don’t be scared, don’t be scared. I’ll be right there.” Ethan Carter lowered his voice, his tone urgent. “Don’t move around, okay? Wait for me.” “But what about Summer…” “Who cares about her! A woman who’s about to die—how can she be more important than our son?” “I just fed her those vitamins. Once she kicks the bucket, this penthouse will be our wedding home.” Summer Lynn’s fingers gripping the tablet turned white at the knuckles. Her nails dug deep into her palm, drawing blood without her even noticing. She didn’t have cancer. This afternoon, the hospital had called to say the previous biopsy report had been mixed up. She only had a common stomach ulcer. She had wanted to tell Ethan Carter this good news, but instead stumbled upon this premeditated murder. Ethan Carter pushed open the balcony door and walked in, his face once again wearing that false apologetic expression. “Summer, there’s an urgent problem with a project at work. I need to go deal with it right away.” “Are you going to the office, or to see Mandy?” Summer Lynn looked at him coldly, not missing any change in his expression. Ethan Carter froze for a moment, then frowned. His eyes filled with impatience and disgust. “What are you imagining now?” “Mandy is my buddy’s widow. What’s wrong with me taking care of her?” “Taking care of her in bed?” Summer Lynn didn’t back down, staring directly into his eyes. “Summer Lynn! You’re being completely unreasonable!” Ethan Carter pointed at her nose, cursing. “Have you lost your mind from being sick?” “I grovel outside every day to pay for your medical bills, and you accuse me of cheating?” He let out a cold laugh, his eyes full of contempt and malice. “Look at yourself in the mirror.” “Your hair’s all fallen out, you’re thin as a skeleton. What would I want with you?” “Are you useful because you’re dying soon!” These words were like a rusty dull knife, stabbing viciously into Summer Lynn’s heart, cutting back and forth. But she didn’t cry. She just calmly looked at the man before her. Looked at this man she had loved for five years, whom she had given everything to support. “Take the medicine. I’ll try to come back early tonight.” Ethan Carter seemed to think he’d gone too far, so he softened his tone slightly. But his eyes remained cold, without a trace of warmth. “What if I don’t take it?” Summer Lynn asked back, her tone carrying a hint of mockery. “Don’t take it?” Ethan Carter let out a cold laugh and reached out to grab Summer Lynn’s chin. The force was so strong it nearly crushed her jawbone. “Summer Lynn, I’m warning you, don’t be ungrateful.” “Whether you want to or not, you’re taking this medicine today!” He grabbed the vitamin pills and roughly shoved them toward Summer Lynn’s mouth. Summer Lynn struggled desperately and swatted his hand away. The white pills scattered across the floor, as if mocking this absurd marriage. Ethan Carter looked at the pills on the ground, his expression turning completely dark. “Fine. Very good.” “Since you want to die so badly, suffer on your own then.” “Let’s see how long you can keep up this attitude!” He turned and strode toward the door without looking back. “Ethan Carter, if you walk out that door, don’t regret it.” Summer Lynn said to his retreating back, enunciating each word. Ethan Carter gripped the door handle, turned his head, and his lips curved into a mocking arc. “Regret? That word doesn’t exist in Ethan Carter’s dictionary. You’d better worry about whether you’ll survive tonight first.”

“Summer, you don’t mind if I come over for a meal, do you?” Mandy pushed open the door and strutted in. She carried several designer shopping bags in her hands and wore overpowering perfume. Completely disregarding that Summer Lynn was supposed to be a “critically ill patient.” “This is my home. You’re not welcome here.” Summer Lynn leaned against the sofa, looking coldly at this woman who had taken over her nest. “Oh my, Summer, why are you so petty?” Mandy sat down on the sofa uninvited, tossing the shopping bags onto the coffee table. “Ethan said you were bored at home alone, so he specially asked me to keep you company.” “He’s just too kind. He always feels like he’s wronged you.” Mandy covered her mouth and giggled, but her eyes were full of provocation. “After all, your illness can’t be cured anyway. He just wants to let you go peacefully.” Summer Lynn looked at her smug expression, her stomach churning again. “Mandy, do you think you’ve already won?” Summer Lynn picked up the water glass from the table and took a leisurely sip. “I don’t know if I’ve won, but you’ve definitely lost completely.” Mandy leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “Ethan told me last night that he gets nauseous just looking at your sickly appearance.” “He said he doesn’t even want to touch you now.” Summer Lynn’s fingers tightened slightly, but her expression remained unchanged. “Really? Then why doesn’t he divorce me?” Summer Lynn shot back, hitting Mandy’s sore spot. “It’s because of those worthless shares under your name!” Mandy got agitated and blurted it out. “Once he gets your shares, do you think he’ll keep you around?” “Summer, I advise you to be smart and sign the papers early.” “Otherwise you’ll end up with nothing, not even enough money to buy a burial plot.” Just then, the front door was pushed open again. Ethan Carter walked in carrying bags of groceries. As soon as he saw Mandy, the fatigue on his face instantly vanished. “Mandy, what are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to rest at home?” Ethan Carter hurried over, fussing over her. Completely ignoring Summer Lynn sitting nearby. “Ethan, I missed you.” Mandy immediately put on a wronged expression, her eyes reddening. “And Summer doesn’t seem very welcoming. She just tried to make me leave.” Hearing this, Ethan Carter’s expression immediately darkened. He turned to look at Summer Lynn, his eyes full of reproach. “Summer Lynn, what’s wrong with you now?” “Mandy came to see you out of kindness. What kind of attitude is this!” “Came to see me? She came to see if I’m dead yet.” Summer Lynn let out a cold laugh, mercilessly exposing the truth. “What nonsense are you spouting!” Ethan Carter slammed the groceries he was holding onto the floor. “Mandy is pregnant. Can you show some decency!” “Pregnant? Whose baby is it?” Summer Lynn raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting between the two of them. Ethan Carter’s face instantly turned pale, panic flashing through his eyes. “You… what are you making a fuss about!” “Mandy is carrying my dead buddy’s child. It’s my duty to take care of her!” Ethan Carter tried to remain calm, defending himself loudly. “Really? Then this baby better not look like you.” Summer Lynn looked at him with a half-smile. Seeing this, Mandy quickly grabbed Ethan Carter’s arm. “Ethan, don’t be angry at Summer. She’s just in so much pain from her illness, she’s unhappy.” “I’m not wronged. As long as I can be by your side, a little grievance is nothing.” Mandy’s retreating-to-advance words completely ignited Ethan Carter’s protective instinct. He patted Mandy’s hand affectionately. “Mandy, you’re just too kind.” Then he turned and glared viciously at Summer Lynn. “Summer Lynn, apologize to Mandy right now!” “Apologize? Why should I?” Summer Lynn found it somewhat amusing. These two really were a perfect match. “Because you just insulted her!” Ethan Carter pointed at Summer Lynn’s nose, his attitude arrogant. “If you don’t apologize today, you can figure out your own medical bills!” He was threatening her with medical expenses again. Summer Lynn looked at this despicable man before her, feeling only sadness in her heart. “Fine, then I won’t get treatment.” Summer Lynn stood up and walked toward the bedroom without any hesitation. “Stop right there!” Ethan Carter grabbed her wrist, his gaze suddenly falling on her wrist. There was a jade bracelet of excellent quality. It was a keepsake from Summer Lynn’s mother. “Mandy mentioned yesterday that she likes jade. Take off that bracelet and give it to her.” Ethan Carter commanded matter-of-factly. “In your dreams!” Summer Lynn violently shook off his hand, her eyes cold to the extreme. “A woman who’s about to die has no use for such nice things anyway.” Ethan Carter snorted coldly and reached out to snatch it again. “Ethan, forget it. If Summer can’t bear to part with it, just let it go.” Mandy pretended to dissuade him, but her eyes were fixed on the bracelet. “No way! This bracelet must go to you today!” To show off in front of Mandy, Ethan Carter used more and more force. Summer Lynn desperately protected her wrist as the two struggled in the living room. A crisp “crack” sounded. The bracelet hit the edge of the coffee table during the struggle and broke in half. The clear sound of breaking echoed through the living room. Summer Lynn looked at the broken jade on the floor, her eyes instantly reddening. That was the only keepsake her mother had left her. “So it broke. What’s the big deal?” Ethan Carter glanced at the fragments on the floor, dismissively curling his lip. “At worst I’ll buy you a fake one to wear.” He turned to look at Mandy, his tone immediately becoming gentle. “Mandy, you weren’t scared, were you? Come on, let’s go out for a nice meal.” “But what about Summer?” Mandy looked at Summer Lynn with feigned concern. “Let her die! Come on, let’s go pick out a diamond ring.” “But Ethan, what if she reports us for robbery?” “Report us? She’s a useless invalid who can barely get out of bed. How’s she going to report anything!”

“It’s just a dog. How can it be more important than Mandy’s feelings?” Ethan Carter kicked aside the litter box blocking his path, his face full of disgust. Dumpling, the Ragdoll cat Summer Lynn had raised for three years, was now cowering in a corner, trembling. Its hind leg had a deep bite wound, blood staining its white fur. And the culprit—the unleashed bully breed dog Mandy had brought—was barking arrogantly. “Ethan Carter, are you blind! It was her dog that bit my cat!” Summer Lynn held Dumpling in her arms, her voice trembling with distress. “Stop yelling!” Not only did Ethan Carter show no remorse, he shouted at her instead. “Mandy is pregnant now. She can’t handle being startled.” “Your cat sheds everywhere anyway. What if Mandy has an allergic reaction?” He stepped forward and snatched Dumpling from Summer Lynn’s arms. “What are you doing! Give her back!” Summer Lynn desperately tried to grab the cat back, but Ethan Carter shoved her onto the sofa. “This damn cat can’t stay. I’m throwing it out right now.” Ethan Carter grabbed Dumpling by the scruff of its neck and strode toward the door. “Ethan Carter! Don’t you dare!” Summer Lynn struggled to get up and chased after him to the door. But Ethan Carter had already mercilessly thrown the cat near the trash can in the hallway. With a “bang,” the security door slammed shut. “Ethan, don’t be angry. Getting upset isn’t worth it.” Mandy walked up and pressed herself against Ethan Carter’s chest, her voice syrupy sweet. “Mandy’s the understanding one.” Ethan Carter wrapped his arm around her waist, looking at Summer Lynn with a challenging gaze. “Summer Lynn, I’m warning you. From now on in this house, Mandy’s rules are the rules.” Summer Lynn looked at the dark hallway outside the door, her heart breaking. Her stomach suddenly sent waves of sharp pain, cold sweat instantly soaking through her back. Although she didn’t have cancer, a severe stomach ulcer flare-up was still life-threatening. “My stomach hurts. Take me to the hospital.” Summer Lynn clutched her stomach, barely managing to speak. “What hospital? You have a terminal illness. Going would just be a waste of money.” Ethan Carter glanced at her coldly, completely unmoved. “Ethan, my dog seems to have diarrhea. Can you take me to the vet?” Mandy suddenly picked up the bully breed, putting on an anxious expression. “Okay, let’s go right now.” Ethan Carter immediately grabbed the car keys, not sparing Summer Lynn another glance. “Ethan Carter! I’m in too much pain to walk. Leave me the car!” Summer Lynn held onto the wall, gritting her teeth as she called out. “The car keys are in my hand. Why should I leave them for you?” Ethan Carter let out a cold laugh. “Call yourself a cab. Don’t delay getting Mandy’s dog treated.” He helped Mandy out the door and locked the security door behind him. Summer Lynn endured the severe pain and pulled out her phone to call a car. But she discovered that not only had Ethan Carter locked the door, he had also unplugged the home Wi-Fi. Her phone couldn’t make calls because it had been cut off for unpaid bills. The sound of a car engine starting came from outside. Summer Lynn dragged her heavy steps to the window. She watched helplessly as Ethan Carter drove away in the Porsche that had originally belonged to her, carrying that woman. Raindrops began hitting the window glass, falling harder and harder. Summer Lynn collapsed to the floor in pain, curling into a ball. She fumbled for the spare key and struggled to open the door. The hallway was empty. Dumpling had disappeared somewhere. “Dumpling… Dumpling…” Summer Lynn held onto the stair railing, moving down step by step. The rain outside was pouring down. Cold wind mixed with rain beat against her body. She finally found the barely alive Dumpling in the bushes of the community garden. Summer Lynn took off her jacket to wrap the cat tightly and stumbled toward the community entrance. A taxi stopped in front of her. “Driver, to the nearest vet hospital, then to the downtown hospital.” Summer Lynn pulled open the car door, her voice so weak it was barely audible. The driver looked at her soaking wet body and deathly pale face, startled. “Miss, are you… okay?” “I’m fine. Just drive.” Summer Lynn leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. Cold rainwater slid down her cheeks. It was impossible to tell whether it was rain or tears. The next morning. Ethan Carter returned home with Mandy, only to find the house empty. “Where did that bitch go?” Ethan Carter frowned and dialed Summer Lynn’s number. The phone rang for a long time before being answered. “Summer Lynn, where the hell are you! Get back here and make breakfast for Mandy!” Summer Lynn’s icy voice came through the phone. “Ethan Carter, you open the door!” “Freeze outside for a night to clear your head. If the cat’s still alive tomorrow morning, I’ll be merciful and let you in.”

“Sign this voluntary waiver of property statement, and I’ll continue buying your medication.” Ethan Carter slammed a thick document onto the dining table, looking down at Summer Lynn from above. Summer Lynn had just returned from getting an IV at the hospital, her face still pale. She glanced at the document on the table but didn’t move. “Ethan Carter, you won’t even spare my property after I die?” Summer Lynn’s voice was soft but carried bone-chilling coldness. “How can you say that? I’m doing this for your own good.” Ethan Carter pulled out a chair and sat down, lighting a cigarette. “You know what kind of person your brother is—lazy and good-for-nothing all day.” “If something happens to you, those shares under your name will definitely be snatched away by your family.” He blew out a smoke ring, his eyes full of calculation. “Might as well transfer them to my name. I’ll keep them safe for you. At least since we were married, I can buy you a decent burial plot.” “Keep them safe for me?” Summer Lynn laughed coldly. “Keep them safe for me, or use them to buy Mandy bags and cars?” “Summer Lynn, don’t be ungrateful!” Ethan Carter slammed the table, furious. “I’m being merciful enough to continue your treatment. You should be grateful!” Mandy walked out of the bedroom at this moment. She wore Summer Lynn’s silk pajamas and held a glass of warm milk. “Summer, Ethan is right.” Mandy walked to Ethan Carter’s side and leaned intimately against his shoulder. “Your illness can’t be cured anyway. What use is keeping that money?” “Why not leave it to Ethan? Consider it repayment for his care over these years.” She looked at Summer Lynn, her eyes full of greed and satisfaction. “Besides, my baby with Ethan is about to be born. We need money everywhere.” “Just consider it accumulating good karma for the baby in my belly.” Summer Lynn looked at this pair of despicable lovers, feeling only disgust. “Accumulating karma? Aren’t you afraid of retribution?” “Retribution? I, Ethan Carter, only believe in money!” Ethan Carter impatiently threw the pen in front of Summer Lynn. “Stop wasting time. Sign it!” Summer Lynn picked up the document and flipped through it page by page. Her gaze scanned the densely packed clauses. Ethan Carter not only wanted all the shares under her name, but also the two properties under her name. He even wanted to transfer the Porsche she had bought before marriage to himself. “You’ve calculated this quite thoroughly.” Summer Lynn closed the document and looked at him coldly. “What if I don’t sign?” “Don’t sign?” Ethan Carter let out a cold laugh, stood up, and walked in front of her. “If you don’t sign, you’re not leaving this house today!” He grabbed Summer Lynn by the collar, threatening viciously. “You really think I have no way to deal with you?” “I’m telling you, even if you don’t sign, when you die, these things will still be mine!” “I just don’t want to deal with unnecessary trouble.” Summer Lynn was forced to tilt her head back, looking at his twisted face. “Ethan Carter, aren’t you afraid I’ll call the police?” “Call the police? Go ahead!” Ethan Carter laughed fearlessly. “Will the police handle property disputes between spouses?” “Besides, with your half-dead appearance, the police will just think you’re mentally unstable!” He forcefully threw Summer Lynn back into the chair. “I’m giving you one last chance. Sign or not!” Summer Lynn took a deep breath, suppressing the rage in her heart. She picked up the pen and spun it twice in her hand. “Fine. I’ll sign.” Ethan Carter and Mandy exchanged glances, both seeing wild joy in each other’s eyes. “Smart choice.” Ethan Carter eagerly flipped the document to the last page. Summer Lynn uncapped the pen, the tip hovering over the signature line. She looked up at Ethan Carter’s impatient face, a strange smile curving at the corners of her mouth. “But Ethan Carter, don’t you know that once this agreement takes effect…” “Takes effect what? Stop playing games!” “Once it takes effect, that hole from your embezzlement can never be filled.”

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After I got out of prison, my brother and I opened an auto repair shop together. He put up the money, I provided the technical skills, and we agreed on a seventy-thirty profit split. With my exceptional car modification abilities, I made waves in the local rich kids’ circle in the first year alone, netting eight million in pure profit. But when I went to collect my dividend at year-end, he only gave me a hundred thousand. “Business is so good because I became friends with those rich kids. Anyone can modify cars—do you really think you’re somebody special?” “Other repair shops pay mechanics six thousand at most. I’m paying you ten thousand a month—I’m already doing you a favor.” I was shocked and furious. I never expected my sincerity to be repaid with betrayal. I quit on the spot and opened a new auto repair shop right across the street from his. Six months later, my brother came begging: “Just come back, and I’ll give you five hundred thousand a year. Can we keep working together now?”

Before going to see Ethan, I received a phone call. “Mr. Hayes, have you thought about what we discussed?” I refused without hesitation. “Mr. Parker, thank you for thinking so highly of me, but as I’ve already made very clear, I won’t be leaving Starlight Auto Repair.” The person on the other end was the owner of the largest auto repair shop in our area. What he wanted me to consider was switching jobs. Three years ago, when I got out of prison, I couldn’t find any work because of my criminal record. That’s when my childhood friend Ethan called me, asking if I’d be willing to come work at his repair shop. I studied aerospace engineering in college and worked at a research institute after graduation. If I hadn’t injured someone while defending my parents, I never would have ended up in prison. Ethan’s reasoning for hiring me was simple—he figured if I could fix rockets, fixing cars would be child’s play. He said many mechanics stole parts from the shop to sell, and his small operation couldn’t handle those kinds of losses. If I was willing, he’d let me join as a technical partner. After thinking it over for a few days, I agreed. After answering Mr. Parker, I was about to hang up when he seemed to sense something and asked me to wait. “Mr. Hayes, I’ve looked into it. Ethan pays you ten thousand a month with thirty percent of annual profits. Come work for me, and I’ll give you an annual salary of five hundred thousand with fifty percent of the profits. I guarantee…” Before he could finish, Ethan’s call came through, asking if I’d arrived at the shop yet and if I had time to come to his office. After hanging up, I got excited. Because yesterday I’d heard that our shop had made eight million in profit this year, and according to our original seventy-thirty agreement, I should get two million four hundred thousand. Two million four hundred thousand. Even back when I worked at the research institute, I’d never seen that much money. But when I entered Ethan’s office and received my dividend, I was stunned. Ethan sat in his oversized executive chair and tossed a bank card onto the desk. “Mason, you worked hard this year. There’s a hundred thousand in this card—your dividend for the year.” For a moment I thought I’d misheard. “A hundred thousand? Did you calculate wrong? The shop made eight million in profit this year. According to our original seventy-thirty agreement, I should get two million four hundred thousand.” Ethan acted like he’d heard the funniest joke and snorted. “Two million four hundred thousand? Mason, do you really think you deserve that?” Those words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I froze in place. “Ethan, what do you mean?” My voice rose involuntarily. “We agreed on technical partnership and a seventy-thirty split. It was spelled out clearly in black and white. Now you’re telling me you won’t honor it?” “Black and white?” Ethan’s smile was meaningful. “That was just talk. It’s not in the contract. Your employment contract says a monthly salary of ten thousand, plus I’m giving you a hundred thousand dividend. That’s nearly a full year’s salary extra. Look at the entire auto repair industry—which boss is as generous as me?” Anger shot straight to my head. “Ethan, don’t go too far. You know damn well what this shop was like when we started. You could barely get ten jobs a month and were about to close down. Who kept it afloat?” I pointed at the yard outside the window filled with luxury cars. “Every single owner of those cars out there comes here for my technical skills. Even Harrison Parker wanted to poach me, offering five hundred thousand a year plus fifty percent profit share. I didn’t even consider it before turning him down, and this is how you treat me!” Ethan’s smile finally faded. He stared straight at me. “You think I don’t know about Harrison Parker trying to poach you? Mason, you really think you’re hot shit.”

“You think business is booming because of your little car modification skills? Don’t kid yourself. Anyone can modify cars. There are repair shops everywhere with mechanics who have real skills. Why would those rich kids come to our little hole-in-the-wall?” “It’s because of me. This past year I’ve been drinking, playing ball, and singing karaoke with those rich kids. We’re friends now. They come here out of respect for me, Ethan. You’re just some grease monkey who fixes cars, and you actually think you’re somebody special.” Hearing these words made me want to punch him right in the face. I’m not bragging, but there are only a handful of people in the country who can match my skill level. The reason those rich kids choose our shop over the big chains for modifications, and why Harrison Parker wanted to poach me, is all because of my technical abilities. I can not only meet all their requirements but also save them money. After all, some of these cars would have to be sent overseas if they didn’t come to me for modifications. Without me, Ethan could drink with those rich kids ten thousand times and they still wouldn’t bring a multi-million dollar sports car to this dump. Seeing my displeasure, Ethan stood up from his executive chair and patted my shoulder. “Mason, I know you’re upset, but I’ve got my own difficulties. This shop doesn’t just have you as a mechanic—there are several others who’ve worked here longer than you and done more work than you. They don’t get dividends, but you do. People will have opinions about that.” “How about this—I’ll raise your salary by another thousand, and I guarantee you a hundred thousand bonus every year. That’s pretty generous, right?” Seeing him act like he was doing me some huge favor made me laugh with anger. Three years ago when I first came to this shop, there were only three interns and not a single proper mechanic. Every day we just patched tires and changed oil, bringing in less than twenty thousand a month in revenue. I paid out of my own pocket to study abroad for six months. During that half year, I didn’t take a cent in salary from the shop, and I paid all my tuition and living expenses myself. After returning home, I pulled several layers of connections before finding a rich kid willing to let me try my hand. I modified an M4 for him. The day after he drove it out, he brought back a group of friends. From then on, the shop really came to life. This past year, I was the first one at the shop at seven every morning and the last one to leave at eleven at night. Three hundred sixty-five days—I didn’t dare take a single day off, afraid of delaying any customer’s deadline. During that time, I injured my back and had to be sent to the hospital for surgery. The doctor told me my back couldn’t handle high-intensity labor anymore, so Ethan found me a young apprentice. Even so, after getting out of the hospital, I was still the last one to leave. When I couldn’t bend over for heavy work, I’d squat or kneel. If that didn’t work, I’d have my apprentice help support the parts. Those other mechanics only came to apply after business picked up. Even if they had more seniority than me, which one of them hadn’t been trained hands-on by me? Thinking of this, my heart went completely cold. “Ethan, if you don’t want to honor your commitment, just say so directly. If you want to fire me, you can say that too. Why go in such a big circle, using ‘other people will have opinions’ as an excuse? Do you think I’m stupid?” Ethan waved his hand. “Mason, you’re really misunderstanding me. We’re brothers—how could I fire you? It’s just that even brothers need to keep clear accounts. If you want that big of a dividend, you need to prove your value, right?” I almost laughed out loud. My value needed proving? The custom modification parts piled up in the workshop—I negotiated with every single overseas supplier to get them. The dozens of modification cases hanging on the wall were all my work. Ethan dismissed all of this with a single sentence, then said I had no value. I suddenly thought about suing him.

But the next second I remembered that because of our friendship, all our agreements had been verbal—I didn’t even have text message records. If I really sued him, I wouldn’t have enough evidence to even file the case. “Fine, Ethan. Since you’ve said as much.” I took several deep breaths. “Then I quit. I’m resigning.” I thought when I mentioned quitting, Ethan would at least panic a little. Who knew he’d pull out a resignation form directly from his drawer. “Sure, Mason. I won’t try to keep you then. Go to accounting to collect your wages.” Looking at that paper, I suddenly understood—Ethan had planned this all along. I let out a cold laugh, picked up that hundred-thousand-dollar bank card, and left. I went back to the workshop to collect my things. Many people saw me and rushed over to ask what happened. I usually managed all the repair work and got along pretty well with the guys, so I told them about Ethan. For a moment, everyone was cursing him out. “Isn’t this just using someone and throwing them away? Everyone knows you’re the one who built this shop up, Mason.” “Exactly. Mason, everyone sees how much you’ve sacrificed for this place. If it wasn’t for the profit share, just for that little salary, who would work themselves to death for him like this?” “Just wait—he’ll regret this sooner or later.” They were all working people who could empathize. But they still had to work here, so all they could do was say a few words on my behalf. I thanked everyone, then called over Kyle and asked if he’d be willing to leave with me. Kyle’s family wasn’t well off, so he’d dropped out early to work. I felt for him, constantly giving him spending money and teaching him a lot. If I took him with me, in probably less than two years he could learn all my skills. I told him my plan, thinking he’d agree, but Kyle actually refused. “Master, I’m doing fine here. I don’t want to leave.” I said, “You only make three thousand here. Come with me and I guarantee I’ll double your salary.” Seeing my insistence, Kyle just came clean. “Master, Ethan already raised me to eight thousand. I don’t want to leave.” Hearing that number shocked me. “That’s what experienced mechanics make. Why would he give you that much?” Seeing Kyle hem and haw, combined with Ethan’s attitude today, I suddenly understood. “Did you tell Ethan you’ve already learned all my techniques?” Kyle’s reaction confirmed exactly what I thought. He had a habit of saying things like that. I’d caught him at it several times. He was indeed smart and had real talent for car modification, but he also had obvious flaws—he was sloppy in his work. The cars we usually handled were all luxury vehicles, worth at least several hundred thousand, with parts that were hard to source. The slightest mistake could ruin an entire car. So normally when he worked, it was only because I was watching that he didn’t make mistakes. Out of goodwill, I told him all this and asked him to clarify things with Ethan. Ethan had fired even me without hesitation. If something went wrong in the future, Kyle’s fate would definitely be worse than mine. Kyle’s expression immediately changed. “Mason, I call you ‘master’ out of respect, but you really think you’re all that? You’re saying all this because you’re bitter I took your job.” “What’s so special about your techniques anyway? It’s just the same few things over and over. I learned it all long ago! You think the world stops spinning without you?” “And you know who I am? I’m Ethan’s wife’s cousin. He’d fire anyone before he’d fire me. Stop worrying about me and worry about yourself.” My head buzzed like someone had hit me with a club. Kyle was Ethan’s wife’s cousin. No wonder Ethan insisted on making Kyle my apprentice. No wonder Ethan never said anything when Kyle made several mistakes. No wonder Ethan dared to turn on me today. From the very first day I started teaching Kyle, Ethan had already been preparing for today.

There was nothing more to say at this point. I turned and went to accounting. After collecting my things and reaching the workshop entrance to leave, someone grabbed my arm. “Mr. Hayes! Finally! You’re here!” A young guy with silver-gray dyed hair blocked my path. “What about that car you were supposed to modify for me? Why are you having some apprentice kid blow me off? He doesn’t even know what model my car is!” The person in front of me was Derek. The most extreme rich kid locally, absolutely crazy about cars. His Porsche 935—there weren’t more than five in the entire country. He’d been on the waiting list for half a year and specifically requested I personally handle it. “Mr. Shaw, I’m sorry.” I told him. “I’ve been fired. I can’t modify your car anymore.” “Fired?” Derek’s voice shot up. “Is your boss crazy? I waited half a year—half a year! Now you’re telling me it can’t be done?” His shout drew everyone nearby. Several mechanics who’d been working stopped and looked over. Ethan quickly walked over from his office, his face full of smiles. “Mr. Shaw, what’s going on? Why so angry?” Derek pointed at me and asked, “Ethan, why was Mr. Hayes fired? I said half a year ago that I wanted him to personally modify this car. What’s the deal with swapping in some apprentice now?” Ethan glanced at me with a warning look, then smiled at Derek. “Mr. Shaw, please calm down. Mr. Hayes resigned on his own. We’re very sorry too, but rest assured—Kyle is his personally trained apprentice. His skills are no worse than Mr. Hayes’. Your car will be in excellent hands with him.” Kyle sidled up at this point. “Mr. Shaw, don’t worry. I’ve learned everything my master knows. I guarantee I’ll modify it beautifully for you.” Derek looked skeptically at Kyle, then at me. I didn’t want to say another word, but my peripheral vision caught that 935. The full carbon fiber body kit alone was worth seven figures from the factory, with parts air-shipped from Germany. Any mistake at all would mean hundreds of thousands in losses. I sighed and turned to Derek. “Mr. Shaw, take my advice—find another shop to do the modification.” Ethan’s expression changed instantly. He pointed at my nose and cursed. “Mason! You’ve already resigned! What are you saying here? If you keep messing with my business, don’t blame me for forgetting our friendship!” Then he pulled Derek aside and whispered something in his ear. A moment later, Derek looked at me differently, muttering under his breath, “Really? How could that be?” Then Derek walked over to Kyle and handed him the car keys. “I’ll leave it in your hands then, Kyle.” During the entire process, Derek never looked at me again, but his body language couldn’t hide his disgust. I wanted to try persuading him again. Then I thought, forget it. It wasn’t my car anyway. Let them do whatever they wanted with it. I knew Ethan hadn’t said anything good in Derek’s ear that day. But I didn’t expect the news to spread so fast. A few days after leaving Ethan’s place, I contacted Mr. Parker to ask if he was still willing to have me. Mr. Parker hemmed and hawed for a long time before finally being honest. “Mr. Hayes, did you… serve time in prison?” I froze. “Did Ethan tell you? Mr. Parker, I can explain. Back then my parents were being bullied…” “Of course I believe you had your reasons.” Mr. Parker interrupted me. “But I’m not the only one who has a say in my shop. The other shareholders don’t agree to bringing in someone with a criminal record. They say it affects the company image.” Not only that, but Mr. Parker also told me that news of my prison time had already spread throughout the circle. It would be impossible for me to continue working in this industry. Mr. Parker asked if I’d be willing to go to another city. He could introduce me to a repair shop elsewhere. Hearing this, I felt like I’d fallen into an ice cave. I’d been brothers with Ethan for so many years. I never thought he’d be this ruthless.

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Two months after my boyfriend went missing, I suddenly received a transfer of two hundred thousand dollars. That night, Asher Ford called me from an unknown number. “You’re just a fish seller. Two hundred grand is more than enough. Summer, we’re even now.” The next day, Asher Ford’s romance with the rising starlet Natalie James hit the trending searches. While the whole internet celebrated them, I started a livestream. In front of the camera, I held a fish-gutting knife. With one swift motion, I raised it and brought it down. “The first toast to myself—for dating a celebrity and only getting a secret relationship.” “The second toast to myself—for spending money and resources on him, only to have him cut me down the moment he made it big.” “The third toast to myself—for seeing my ex-boyfriend’s new romance trending the day after our brutal breakup.” Asher Ford and his management company called me frantically, cursing non-stop: “Why won’t this livestream shut down?” I laughed coldly. Who said I was only selling one fish?

I wiped the water off my hands and picked up my phone expressionlessly. Asher Ford had removed me from his blacklist and was now bombarding me with messages on SnapChat. [Summer, are you out of your mind? What the hell are you talking about?] [Turn off that livestream right now, do you hear me?] [Are you trying to destroy me and Natalie?!] I didn’t reply. I exited his chat window. I noticed the pinned chats at the top that I hadn’t deleted yet. I had always kept only two people pinned—one was Asher Ford, the other was Natalie James. My chat history with Natalie James was still stuck three months ago: [Don’t worry, Summer! I’ll keep an eye on Asher for you once we’re on set~] I closed my screen and glanced at the comments flooding my livestream, picking one to respond to. “Is there a fourth toast? Yes. The fourth toast is to myself—for putting my best friend in my boyfriend’s production, only to have them announce their relationship. Turns out I was the clown all along.” My words were too pointed to ignore. Combined with today’s trending celebrity news, people in the comments had already started typing out Asher Ford and Natalie James’s names. When I first started the stream, there wasn’t a single viewer. But money talks. Even two hundred thousand dollars could make a splash loud enough to attract a crowd. Random viewers entered the stream, confused. [Random person here—what’s going on? Why does a fish-selling stream have so many people?] [But the fish seller is so pretty! Girl, stop gutting fish and gut me instead!] Soon, someone filled them in. [You’re late, sis. Looks like we’re front row for some major tea.] [I knew this was my weekday blessing. Not sleepy at all now!] Of course, there was also a batch of fans spamming the chat to defend them, insisting I was just clout-chasing off “Asher and Natalie Forever.” I let out a cold laugh and kindly replied, “Dear fan, don’t you know the golden rule of entertainment? Ask for receipts and you’ll get receipts.” Back when we were dating, Asher Ford was a complete nobody—an E-list actor buried six feet under—but he had the self-awareness of an A-lister. He rarely showed his face in photos, probably to prevent exactly this kind of situation. Too bad he underestimated his own fans. They were the type to follow their idols with 18x magnification microscopes, never missing a single clue. Sure enough, the next moment, hashtags like #AsherFordGirlfriend, #AsherFordCheating, and #NatalieJamesHomewrecker exploded onto the trending searches. Fans analyzed the photos and videos I provided frame by frame. I marveled internally while casually throwing money at the post to boost it to the top. The comments in my livestream became polarized. Some praised me for handling it beautifully, saying cheaters deserved to be exposed. Others recognized the farmers market in my stream background was near Asher Ford’s filming location and thought I was a crazy stalker. I simply grabbed the last fish from the tank and gutted it cleanly. The next second, Asher Ford appeared in front of me, fully disguised. He finally couldn’t sit still anymore. Though his mask and hat covered most of his face, I could still read the fury in his eyes. The livestream comments spiked the moment his figure appeared. [Holy shit, is that actually Asher Ford?] [Still defending him, fans? Your idol just showed up in person.] Asher Ford’s face darkened as he pulled me away from my stall. A large hand appeared in front of the camera, forcibly cutting off the stream. In the second before it ended, I smiled at the camera. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”

In the hotel suite, Asher Ford’s manager, Kyle, sat vigilantly nearby, glaring at me with undisguised resentment. Yet just six months ago, we’d been drinking together at a roadside barbecue stand. He’d sighed drunkenly, “Real love is rare in the entertainment industry. Bro, I’m rooting for you two.” Back then, Asher Ford’s eyes were full of tenderness and affection. “I’m not looking to be a superstar. As long as I can support Summer, that’s enough. I don’t want her to work so hard.” This summer, one of his shows became a hit. He skyrocketed to fame overnight. After that, we saw each other less and less, until two months ago when contact completely stopped. I never expected our reunion would be under these circumstances. Kyle lit a cigarette and said leisurely, “Summer, I wanted to sign you along with him back then, but you refused. You insisted on keeping your fish stall. So don’t blame us now. People always climb higher.” “You’re not satisfied with two hundred grand? Name your price.” I scoffed. Once upon a time, we were so poor we could only afford one flavor of crawfish. Now that they’d made it big, their tone had certainly changed. Asher Ford hadn’t said a word. He kept his head down, not daring to look at me. I couldn’t tell if it was resentment or a hint of guilt in his heart. Seeing my silence, Kyle thought he had a chance. “But I have conditions. You must publicly apologize to Asher and Natalie, and never contact them again.” I didn’t look at him. I stared straight at Asher Ford. “Where’s Natalie James? Why didn’t she come to see me? Too ashamed?” Asher Ford looked guilty, mumbling, “After your livestream, fans went crazy attacking her. Natalie’s been hurt. She cried all night.” I let out a cold laugh. “So it’s not a publicity stunt? You two are really together?” Asher Ford gave an almost imperceptible nod, his voice dry. “Summer, don’t blame Natalie. It’s me…” “You can’t stop us from living better lives, can you? I can’t stay with a fish seller forever.” I looked at his face. It had only been two months, yet he felt like a complete stranger. Now he kept calling me “fish seller,” but he never thought about how he got to where he is today. I nodded and stood up. “The nerve to do it but not own up to it? I really look down on you both. You want me to shut up? Dream on.” Kyle’s expression changed. He waved his hand, and several security guards in black rushed in. They quickly restrained me, gripping me so hard my face went pale. Asher Ford looked panicked. “Kyle, tell them to go easy…” Kyle was noncommittal. “Summer, since you won’t take the easy way, don’t blame us. Until the scandal dies down, you’re not going anywhere.” With that, he glared at Asher Ford, and the two left directly, locking me completely inside the hotel suite with two security guards stationed at the door. Half an hour later, I rubbed my wrists and opened my phone. Sure enough, my streaming platform and all my social media accounts had been controlled through their connections. I opened Twitter again and saw Asher Ford’s deeply emotional apology letter and essay. At the same time, Skyline Entertainment issued a stern statement. The gist of it was: Asher Ford did briefly date Summer, but they had already broken up. During their relationship, his relationship with Natalie James was purely friendship—no cheating or infidelity occurred. Natalie James immediately followed up with a post: [The innocent will be proven innocent] The attached photo was a weak selfie of her lying in a hospital bed. They both apologized for taking up public resources. My gaze grew colder. Apologizing to the public—but the person who deserved an apology the most still hadn’t heard a single “I’m sorry.” So I said nothing and made a phone call.

On a weekday afternoon, everyone seemed quite free. The controversy continued to ferment. With the entertainment company fanning the flames, many marketing accounts started steering the narrative. [Gotta say, this apology is pretty sincere] [Asher Ford and Natalie James are actors, not idols. What’s wrong with dating? Celebrities have the right to date freely] [Between Natalie James and a fish seller, anyone would know who to choose, right?] Next, someone leaked that I’d taken money. The screenshot of the two-hundred-thousand-dollar transfer was posted. The comments exploded again, everyone cursing me out. [Took the money and still making trouble? The fish seller’s desperate for fame, huh?] [Definitely rival companies stirring things up. Can’t stand our “Asher and Natalie Forever” trending] [LMAO, now that my baby’s famous, every random nobody wants clout] My livestream account was completely suspended. The official reason: False information. Asher Ford and Natalie James struck while the iron was hot, attending an event together. The two gazed sweetly at each other, Asher Ford’s love practically overflowing. [Let’s see who still says our “Asher and Natalie Forever” is fake!] [Asher really loves her so much. Ex-girlfriend, stop clout-chasing] They marketed these two as a couple who’d finally made it through hardship. Naturally, I became the evil witch trying to destroy them. Fans from both sides united like never before, directing all their anger at me. My accounts were doxxed, and old photos where I’d accidentally appeared in the background were dug up. They viciously attacked everything about me. My DMs were filled with toxic insults, and people even photoshopped funeral portraits of me. Asher Ford didn’t say another word. Instead, late that night, Natalie James, who I hadn’t heard from in ages, sent me a message. [Summer, did you ever think you’d have a day like this?] I stared at that message for a long moment. Back when Asher Ford was still running errands at the film studio, sometimes the assistant directors would give him odd jobs, like buying fish from me. Over time, we became familiar faces. Later, on a snowy day, I was cooking fish soup at my stall when I saw Asher Ford licking his lips nearby. Feeling sympathetic, I invited him in to escape the snow. That’s when I learned he hadn’t worked with any production crew for a week and had lost his source of income. I took him in. During the day, he’d still work as an extra. In his spare time, he’d help me gut fish. Love came naturally. As for Natalie James, she was the daughter of the pork seller next to my stall. People around the film studio all had dreams to some degree. Natalie James was no exception. Unfortunately, neither of them had much luck. Ironically, manager Kyle happened to pass by one day and took one look at me, insisting on signing me as a talent. Under the envious gazes of Asher Ford and Natalie James, I calmly refused. Kyle settled for second best and signed Asher Ford instead. On another snowy day, I saw Natalie James with her face red from cold, being scolded and beaten by her parents. I felt sympathy again. I asked Asher Ford to make connections and pulled some other strings, finally getting Natalie James into the industry too. Back then, neither of them was famous yet. They felt bad for me and wouldn’t let me work, competing to gut fish for me. They were quite skilled. Now, I really wanted to ask them about it again, but it seemed pointless. For me, it was a warm memory. For them, it was probably just a humiliating past. I deleted her from my contacts and clicked on another person’s profile. [Send me that invitation.]

Once the heat died down, Kyle finally mercifully let me go. He condescendingly tossed me a card. “There’s another hundred grand here. Asher still values the old times. Don’t let him down.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “Of course, if you change your mind and want to enter the industry, you can still contact me. We can negotiate all the terms.” I scoffed, too lazy to deal with him, and left directly. Three days later, I appeared at the SW Gala. This gala was broadcast globally. Countless celebrities fought tooth and nail for an invitation. So when I entered the camera’s view wearing a casual shirt, the comments froze for a moment. [Did I see that right? Was that the fish seller from a few days ago?] [Is security insane? How did they let just anyone in at such a major event?] [FYI, I’m here in person. I saw the fish seller come in with an invitation] [What?? The gala has scalpers now?] “Asher and Natalie Forever,” who’d been holding hands, stiffened when they saw me. Asher Ford quickly walked over, lowering his voice. “Summer, what are you doing here? Are you crazy?” He seemed anxious, trying to shield me from the cameras. “Leave before anyone notices. I’ll take you to the back exit.” Natalie James’s expression changed. Dressed in haute couture and enhanced by exquisite makeup, she’d shed her former innocence. By comparison, I looked rather shabby. She grabbed Asher Ford’s arm. “Do you know what your position is? Do you have to stay entangled with her?” Then she linked arms with Asher Ford, as if claiming ownership, and smiled sweetly at me. “Long time no see, Summer.” “I didn’t expect that after just a few months, your methods would become so sophisticated. You even managed to squeeze into the gala. Is today’s security guard one of your admirers?” She was deliberately provoking. Asher Ford’s expression didn’t look good. More and more people gathered around. Natalie James’s smile grew brighter. She deliberately pinched her nose. “Ugh, what a strong fishy smell. Summer, I’m not trying to criticize you, but couldn’t you at least change clothes before coming?” I shrugged indifferently and looked at her skin, reddened by the wind. I asked very sincerely, “Aren’t you cold?” Natalie James’s face stiffened. Just then, several security guards walked over quickly. They politely asked to see my invitation, then exchanged glances. “Ms. Summer’s invitation is valid.” Everyone’s expressions changed. “Her identity is… screenwriter?” I finally smiled. “I wanted to write a script with a fish seller as the protagonist, so I went to experience that life. I didn’t tell you in advance—sorry about that.” Natalie James’s face turned iron blue. She called Kyle over. Even though she lowered her voice, the argument still reached my ears. “She’s just a third-rate screenwriter. Can’t you handle this? Do you believe I won’t film next month’s dating reality show!” “Asher and Natalie Forever” was currently riding high. Kyle couldn’t bear to let this cash cow go. I don’t know how he worked it out, but two more security guards came over politely to escort me out. The livestream comments were updating rapidly. [What’s happening now? Is the fish seller getting kicked out?] [I really want to see the fish seller cause a scene at the gala. That would be exciting] [Hey, but how do I put this… Natalie James’s fans could paper a wall, but the fish seller with no makeup standing next to her is actually holding her own!] [Support “Asher and Natalie Forever!” Please remove unrelated people, organizers] I looked at the smug Natalie James and the silent Asher Ford. Probing gazes landed on me one after another. I suddenly smiled. “Are you sure you want to remove me?” Natalie James shouted, “Of course. Stop embarrassing yourself, Summer.” Someone playing the neutral party nearby also said I really didn’t fit the gala. I nodded. “Then this gala doesn’t need to happen, does it?” Everyone froze, then burst into laughter. Natalie James laughed so hard she swayed. “Summer, have you lost your mind?” The next second, the gala doors were pushed open. Camera flashes went crazy, and the livestream immediately crashed. [Holy shit! It’s Ethan Knight! Who invited this ancient god out?!] If the domestic entertainment industry could only have one top-tier celebrity, no one would question it—it would definitely be Ethan Knight. His gaze swept across the venue, then he walked straight toward me. Under everyone’s gaze, he stopped in front of me. “Miss, what are you doing here?”

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My son had just turned seven months old when my wife and my brother died together in a lovers’ suicide. They leaped from a high mountain, their bodies never recovered. Just as I was reeling in shock, several lines of text suddenly floated before my eyes. “This Ethan is really pitiful. Sophia and Liam faked their deaths, but he has to raise the baby and take care of both sets of parents all alone. He ended up dying from exhaustion before he even turned thirty-five.” “His son is an ungrateful wretch too. He acknowledged Liam as his father, and didn’t even visit Ethan’s grave on the anniversary of his death. Weeds have grown all over Ethan’s tombstone!” “And he doesn’t know—the child he worked himself to death raising for seven years isn’t even his biological son!” “Sophia is so rich, but Ethan didn’t inherit a single penny. Those two bastards, Sophia’s parents, took everything!” “They even pretended to be paralyzed and made Ethan serve them hand and foot, treating him like he wasn’t even human!” Seeing all this, my tears stopped flowing instantly, like a dam had been shut.

The floating messages continued. “Next up will be Ethan working alone to raise the baby while serving two disabled elderly people. It’s going to be a tragic storyline.” “God, I can’t bear to watch this. After Ethan dies, Sophia and Liam will come back. Sophia’s parents won’t be paralyzed anymore, Ethan’s parents won’t resent him anymore, and the whole big happy family will start their beautiful life of raising the baby and making money.” My mother suddenly shoved me hard. “This is all your fault! If you’d divorced Sophia earlier and let Liam have her, they wouldn’t have died!” My father slapped me across the face. “You’re a walking disaster! Your brother was cursed to death by you!” I stood there stunned, wondering if I was hallucinating from excessive grief. Then more messages appeared. “It’s one thing for the in-laws to blame him, but even his own parents don’t understand. It was clearly Liam and Sophia having an affair, but they were afraid of being criticized by society, so they staged this whole thing. Now Ethan is taking all the blame.” I was shocked for three seconds, but it only took me three minutes to accept this reality. Then I numbly handled the funeral arrangements for Sophia and Liam, and had both of them officially declared dead. The moment I finished these tasks, my mother-in-law called. “Ethan, get over here right now! Something terrible has happened to your father and me!” I quickly hid the death certificates, then rushed to my in-laws’ house. When I entered, I found both my father-in-law and mother-in-law lying in bed. My mother-in-law immediately started crying when she saw me. She shakily handed me two diagnosis certificates. The word “paralyzed” was particularly glaring. “Ethan, your father and I can’t accept the fact that Sophia is gone. We’re so grief-stricken that we’ve lost all bodily function.” “From now on, we’ll have to rely on you to take care of us!” At that moment, more messages flooded my vision. “These two old bastards are healthier than I am, yet they’re pretending to be paralyzed to make Ethan serve them.” “Ethan has to feed them, bathe them, and handle their excrement and urine every day. They curse at him daily, calling him a walking disaster and saying he’s not taking good enough care of them.” “Ethan collapsed from exhaustion several times. The baby had no one to care for him and nearly died.” “It would’ve been better if that ungrateful brat had died. Otherwise, Ethan had to work three jobs to support him and serve these two old bastards, and he ended up dying of overwork while delivering food!” My father-in-law shouted impatiently, “Your mother is talking to you! Did you hear her or not? My daughter died because of you, and now we’re like this—you have to take responsibility!” The messages kept floating. “Ethan, please don’t feel guilty! It’s not your fault! Give the baby to these two old bastards and run!” “Sophia still has a company and two villas under her name. After she faked her death, her parents secretly inherited everything and didn’t give Ethan a single penny!” Seeing all this, I took a deep breath. “Mom, Dad, don’t worry. I’ll definitely take good care of you!”

My father-in-law demanded, “Go make dinner right now, and when you’re done, clean the whole house! Don’t even think about being lazy and ordering takeout. I don’t eat takeout!” My mother-in-law chimed in, “After dinner, first give us both a sponge bath, then do the housework. Oh, and wash our dirty clothes too.” I looked at them coldly. “The baby seems a bit unwell. I’m going to take him to the hospital for a checkup first.” My father-in-law got agitated. “The kid is seven months old—what could be wrong with him? I think you just don’t want to take care of us!” My mother-in-law added, “Ethan, if you won’t take care of us, I’ll start a livestream and let the internet drown you in criticism!” “Mom, Dad, I won’t abandon you. I’ll come back right after I get the baby checked. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to Sophia’s child, would you?” Without waiting for their agreement, I left immediately. Then I headed straight to the electronics market and bought two hidden cameras. Messages flooded past frantically. “Oh my God, Ethan is waking up! He’s starting to suspect these two old bastards!” “Ethan, hurry home! The property deeds for Sophia’s two villas are hidden inside the big teddy bear at home! If you don’t get them now, those two old bastards will take them!” I rushed home and immediately spotted the human-sized teddy bear in the living room. It was a gift I’d given Sophia when she found out she was pregnant. I quickly unzipped the back of the bear and reached inside, feeling around for a long time until I finally touched two property deeds. After getting the two deeds, my heart pounded wildly. Both villas were in excellent locations with great square footage—worth over twenty million dollars combined! “Ethan cried every day because he couldn’t pay his son’s two-hundred-dollar school fee. He wouldn’t even buy himself a bun to eat and fainted from hunger. But that bitch had this much money and didn’t leave any of it for her husband and child. She deserves to die!” “Sophia and Liam are having a great time at a hot spring resort abroad right now.” I pulled out my phone and called a realtor. “Hello, real estate sales? I want to sell some property!” Right after I listed the two villas with the agency, my mother-in-law called again. “Ethan, it’s getting dark—why aren’t you back yet! Your father and I can’t take care of ourselves. Get back here and serve us.” “Okay, Mom. I’m coming back now.” I returned home with the two hidden cameras. When my in-laws heard me opening the door, they immediately went back to lie in bed. This gave me the perfect opportunity to install the camera in the living room. My father-in-law shouted, “Hurry up and make dinner! Are you trying to starve us to death?” I quickly responded and went to the kitchen to cook. After I finished, I brought the food into the room and struggled to help both of them sit up. My mother-in-law told me to feed her. Just as I brought the spoon to her mouth, she shrieked. “Are you trying to scald me to death?” She flung her hand out and knocked the bowl over, spilling food all over my head and face. The floor was covered in soup. As I cleaned it up, I took the opportunity to install the hidden camera in the bedroom. My father-in-law tapped his fork against the plate. “This dish is too salty, this one has too much oil. Pay attention next time!” “And when we eat, there must be both meat and vegetables—four dishes and a soup. You’re serving us with these two lousy vegetable dishes? Have you no conscience?” My mother-in-law huffed, “Don’t think you’re being wronged. My daughter died because of you. Everything you’re doing now is atonement!” “Hurry up and clean up the dishes, then wash the sheets and clothes. Mop the floor too. There’s still a pile of work to be done!” I obediently replied, “Mom, Dad, I’ll try my best to satisfy you.” After they finished eating, I was cleaning up in the living room. Suddenly I heard my father-in-law shout, “Ethan, get in here! I need to take a dump!”

I dropped the mop and ran in immediately, but it was too late. A foul stench filled the bedroom. “Ethan, can’t you move faster! I’ve already soiled my pants. Clean me up right now!” I suppressed my anger and maintained my patience. “Dad, I’m sorry. I’m trying to take care of both of you while looking after the baby. I got here as fast as I could.” “So you’re blaming me for not being able to hold it in!” He grabbed the cup from the nightstand and threw it hard at me. The cup hit me right in the forehead. Blood instantly streamed down my face. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and clean this mess! A little cut on your head won’t kill you!” I swallowed my rage and cleaned up the disgusting mess while fighting my nausea. My mother-in-law called from the room, “Wash your father’s pants and sheets by hand! Don’t use the washing machine—it’s unsanitary!” By the time I finally finished cleaning up, the moment my butt touched the sofa, my mother-in-law spoke up. “Ethan, it’s so late—you should head home now. Your father and I need to rest. Come back early tomorrow!” My in-laws’ house had two bedrooms, but they clearly had no intention of letting me stay overnight. I opened the door and left. The messages started floating before my eyes again. “These two old bastards deliberately soiled themselves to disgust Ethan. It’s so late and they still won’t let him stay. They’re just tormenting him!” “There are no buses running at this hour. If Ethan wants to get home, he has to take a cab. But to save money, Ethan chose to walk home carrying the baby. It took him two hours to get there.” “Later Ethan bought a little electric scooter to deliver food and get around, but these two old bastards deliberately punctured the tires.” “Marrying into their family was eight generations of bad luck for Ethan. These two old devils clearly knew Sophia wasn’t dead, yet they deliberately tortured Ethan! They’re not even human! Why don’t they just die!” I sneered coldly. You two old bastards, go ahead and be arrogant. Everything you’re doing now will come back like a boomerang and stab you right in the back! The next morning at four o’clock, my mother-in-law called again. “Ethan, are you here yet? Your father and I are waiting for you to handle our bathroom needs. Hurry up and get here. If we can’t hold it and soil the bed, don’t blame us!” I used my phone to connect to the surveillance cameras at their house. Both of them were wandering around the living room—not looking paralyzed at all. No choice. For now, I still had to play along with their act. I served my in-laws tirelessly for a week. Finally, that afternoon, I received news that buyers had been found for the villas. Taking advantage of the two old bastards’ afternoon nap, I snuck out to meet the buyers. I’d already priced the villas below market value, so the transaction went smoothly. The moment I received the twenty million dollar payment, my anxious heart finally settled. That afternoon, my in-laws called my phone over a dozen times. I just turned it off. When I went back that evening, I brought someone with me. As soon as I entered, I heard the sound of things being smashed. “You worthless man, where did you go? Why did you turn off your phone? Do you know what kind of afternoon your father and I had!” Of course I knew. Those two had a wonderful time—they ordered takeout and watched TV. It was all recorded by the surveillance cameras. “Mom, Dad, this is the live-in caregiver I found for you. From now on, Mrs. Miller will take care of you full-time.”

My father-in-law immediately threw a fit. “No way! How can an outsider take care of us properly! We don’t want a stranger. We want you to take care of us!” My mother-in-law cried, “Ethan, my daughter died because of you, and now you don’t want to take care of us old folks! You have no conscience! How did our Anderson family end up with a curse like you!” “Mom, Dad, these past few days taking care of you have made my heart feel really uncomfortable, and the baby caught a cold. If you insist that I take care of you, I’ll have no choice but to send the baby away and let someone else care for him.” My father-in-law wouldn’t give in. “Nonsense! Back in our day, which man didn’t have to take care of kids and elderly parents at the same time? I never saw their kids have problems! I think you just don’t want to take care of us and you’re making excuses!” “That’s right! You’re absolutely right, honey. The kid is seven months old—a little illness won’t matter!” “Mom, Dad, no matter what you say, this child is what Sophia left behind, and he’s my life. I have to protect him.” With that, I turned and walked away, not looking back no matter how much they called after me. That night, the full-time caregiver I hired called me. “Mr. Morgan, your in-laws are forcing me to leave. They said if I don’t go, they’ll bite their tongues and kill themselves.” “Don’t worry, they’re not willing to die. Just do your job well. If they give you trouble, please bear with them. I’ll pay you triple the salary.” These two old bastards were determined to drive away the caregiver because with her there, they’d have to keep pretending to be paralyzed. If I was taking care of them, after I left at night, they could still get up and move around. Well, now they could just lie there. I went and got a paternity test done. Sure enough, the child wasn’t mine. I sent him to an orphanage. After that, I rushed to the company under Sophia’s name and called a board meeting in my capacity as Sophia’s husband. “Distinguished shareholders, I am Ethan Morgan, Sophia’s legal husband. I will inherit all of her shares. I majored in finance at Princeton. I believe we can all work together pleasantly in the future.” Sophia’s right-hand woman immediately objected. “As far as I know, Ms. Anderson still has parents. How can you inherit all of her equity!” I pulled out my in-laws’ paralysis certificates. “My father-in-law and mother-in-law have lost full capacity for civil conduct. If we hand the company over to them, how can it continue operating?” “Besides, I’m a top graduate from Princeton, while my in-laws only have middle school educations. It’s very clear who should inherit the company.” The confidante still objected. “What do you mean they’ve lost capacity? That’s just your one-sided claim!” I directly projected the surveillance footage from home onto the screen. In the video, I was tirelessly serving two disabled elderly people, dutifully and responsibly. The confidante’s face turned green. In the end, I gained the support of more than half the shareholders and obtained all of Sophia’s shares. Then I went to every bank to check if there were any other bank cards under her name. Wherever I found one, I directly presented the death certificate and marriage certificate, transferred all the money in her cards to my account, then canceled her cards. After completing this whole process, my account had grown by another thirty million dollars. Thinking about the expression on Sophia’s face when she tried to use her cards abroad and discovered they’d all been canceled made me laugh out loud.

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1 The day I was supposed to take the bench as Chief Judge, I got myself arrested for a DUI on purpose. Sitting behind bars for three days, I perfectly missed the murder trial of my wife’s childhood sweetheart. Everyone who knew me shook their heads. They pitied me for throwing my brilliant career straight into the gutter. But sitting on that freezing iron cot, all I felt was absolute relief. In my past life, my wife forced me to use my authority to acquit her bastard of a childhood friend. I refused and sentenced the scumbag to death according to the law. My wife hated my guts for it. After the divorce, she pulled every string she had, whipping up a frenzy online and framing me for abusing my power for personal revenge. Overnight, I went from a rising star in the justice system to a rat crossing the street. Countless ignorant netizens doxed me. Death threats stuffed my mailbox. The abuse bled into my real life, suffocating me until my mental defenses completely shattered. I was driven to a dead end and jumped off a building. I opened my eyes, sucking in a lungful of rust-scented air. I had actually returned to the day before the trial. “Is that him? The high and mighty Chief Judge? A drunk driver?” “Breaking the law he’s sworn to uphold. Throw the book at him!” “Scum like him doesn’t deserve the robe. Sickening.” Accusations and curses washed over me like a tidal wave. I looked at the furious faces behind the police tape, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. If I hadn’t been pushed to the absolute brink, who would willingly smash the career they spent a decade building? In my last life, my principles got me killed. This time, I had run the chessboard through my mind a thousand times. This was the only way out of a dead end. It would be a lie to say my heart didn’t ache for what I was losing. Before I could process the heavy emotions, two uniformed officers slapped cold handcuffs onto my wrists with a sharp click. One of them roughly shoved my shoulder, preparing to force me into the back of the cruiser. Right at that moment, a middle-aged woman in a red coat broke through the crowd like a madwoman. She pointed a trembling finger right at my nose and screamed. “You heartless animal! My son was killed by a drunk driver like you!” “You’re a judge and you dare to drink and drive? Why don’t you rot in hell with my boy!” Her voice cracked and tore. Driven to the edge of grief, she lunged forward, her nails aiming straight for my face. Looking at her twisted, tear-stained features, my vision blurred for a second. A few years ago, I was the one who presided over her son’s tragic hit-and-run case. What a cruel joke of fate. The wheel turned, and now I was the one wearing the handcuffs. Seeing her claws about to reach my eyes, the younger cop quickly stepped in front of me. “Ma’am, please step back. You need to calm down.” “Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down!” Her shrieks pierced my eardrums. “Why does a piece of trash like him get to wear that robe? What gives him the right to sit up high and decide who lives and dies!” The crowd immediately echoed her anger. People shouted that someone so filthy had no right to judge others. The cops were overwhelmed by the boiling outrage. They finally managed to pull the despairing mother aside. Taking advantage of the gap, the other officer shoved me hard into the police car. The heavy door slammed shut with a thud. The chaos outside was instantly muted. The young cop climbed into the driver’s seat. He glanced at the angry mob outside, still shaken, then glared at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes were full of frustrated disappointment. He shook his head in disgust. “What the hell were you thinking? A Chief Judge, holding the biggest case of the year, and you go out and drive drunk? Is your brain rotted?” “Anyone who didn’t know better would think you did this on purpose to dodge the trial.” A sharp ache hit my chest. I had bled for this profession for ten years. Every bone in my body carried a deep reverence for the law. Who would actually throw that away? But I had no choice. I had to burn it all down to survive. Seeing me sitting there like a mute statue, the cop wisely shut his mouth. I leaned back against the leather seat and closed my eyes, but my mind ran wild, dragging me back to my previous life. My wife was Meredith. The man who caused the fatal crash was her childhood best friend, Blake. That night, the rain poured down in sheets. Visibility was zero. Blake was dead drunk. He slammed the gas pedal, ran a red light, and hit a pregnant woman, sending her flying across the intersection. Her husband was standing only a few feet away, forced to watch his beloved wife smash onto the asphalt like a broken doll. Bright crimson blood mixed with the rain, pooling rapidly under the pale streetlights. She died on impact. The eight-month-old baby, fully formed and ready to see the world, died right along with her. The tragedy detonated across the internet. Public fury boiled over, and every lawyer in the city was placing bets on how long Blake would rot in a cell. Fate played a sick joke, and the gavel was placed in my hands. The second the news broke, Meredith called me. She felt zero sympathy for the dead. She simply demanded I use my authority to get Blake off the hook. Those were two innocent lives. And Blake didn’t show a single ounce of remorse in court. He even smirked at the grieving husband. My bottom line as a judge made me reject Meredith’s insane demands without a second thought. Taking all the brutal evidence into account, I brought the gavel down and sentenced Blake to death. The day of the verdict, Meredith was eerily quiet. But that very night, she packed her bags and left. The next morning, a cold divorce agreement was slapped onto my desk. I was completely stunned. She looked at me like I was garbage. A venomous sneer curled her lips as she told me I didn’t deserve to be her husband. “Blake and I grew up together, and you actually dared to sentence him to death. You’re a cold-blooded monster!” “I asked you for one tiny favor and you pushed back. What’s next? Are you going to throw me in a cell too!” Her beautiful eyes were swimming with raw, unfiltered hatred. I almost laughed at her twisted logic. If I didn’t sentence him to death, how could I face the public? How could I face those two murdered souls? She refused to listen to a single word of my defense. She just spun on her heels and slammed the door behind her. I tried to salvage things, but she was a block of solid ice. Exhausted to my core, I signed the papers. I thought the nightmare was over and we would just go our separate ways. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The day after the divorce, a massive smear campaign buried me alive. Hordes of internet trolls came out of nowhere, spinning a narrative that I was jealous of Blake and Meredith’s relationship, claiming I handed down the death penalty out of pure spite. The killing blow was an audio clip leaked online. In it, my voice used the most vulgar words imaginable to curse Blake, threatening to kill him sooner or later. It was a masterful AI deepfake. Meredith was a top-tier visual and audio designer. She had plenty of connections with people who could fabricate reality perfectly. I tried to clear my name. A few rational voices actually took my side. But that afternoon, my trusted assistant posted a massive essay online. He tearfully accused me of abusing my power and accepting massive bribes. When my own right-hand man threw me to the wolves, the narrative completely spiraled out of control. Not a single person believed my innocence anymore. I naively thought the internet’s memory was short. I thought time would wash it away. But the hatred escalated into real-world violence. Bricks smashed through my windows at midnight. Dead rats were left on my windshield. The death threats seeped into every corner of my existence. My sanity finally snapped. On a quiet, early morning, I stepped off the edge of a thirty-story building. The agony of my bones shattering and my organs tearing from the sheer force of the impact was still burned into my soul. Opening my eyes again, only ice remained in my veins. Since God gave me a second chance, I would never let anyone use me as a stepping stone again. Three days later, I finally walked out of the precinct doors. The desk officer handed me my belongings in a clear plastic bag. I nodded in thanks. The second I turned on my phone, it vibrated like a cornered hornet. Over a hundred unread messages flooded the screen. I skimmed through them. Most were from Meredith. Every single word reeked of arrogant rage. “Where the hell are you playing dead? Text me back!” “You have three hours, or I’m dragging you to sign divorce papers!” “You think you’re so tough now? Ignoring my calls and my texts?” Because I hadn’t replied, her final messages softened just a fraction. “Today is Blake’s trial. You better remember what I said and make sure he walks free.” Seeing that last line, I couldn’t hold back a cold laugh. I had spent three peaceful days behind bars, and she was out here writing a whole script for my life. I ignored her garbage texts. Glancing at my Rolex, I saw the time was just about right. I hailed a cab and headed straight for the courthouse. Green lights all the way. Half an hour later, the cab pulled up across the street from the towering courthouse. I looked out the window. Blake’s crime was so brutal that the court had barred public entry to the trial. But that didn’t stop the outrage. The plaza in front of the building was packed tight with angry protesters, and reporters had their cameras lined up like a firing squad. My eyes scanned the chaotic crowd and locked onto two very familiar figures. Meredith and my son, Toby. They were standing on their tiptoes, craning their necks toward the heavy doors, panic written all over their faces. This was getting interesting. I pushed the car door open, a mocking smile playing on my lips. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stood on the sidewalk, quietly admiring their little performance. A few minutes passed. Maybe she felt my unapologetic stare, because Meredith suddenly whipped her head around. Our eyes clashed in the air. The moment she recognized my face, Meredith looked like someone had hit pause on a remote control. Pure, unfiltered shock flashed across her perfect face. She let go of Toby’s hand and practically sprinted across the pavement toward me in her heels. “What are you doing here?” A subtle tremor of panic laced her voice. Her eyes darted between the closed courthouse doors and my calm expression. Her throat tightened. “At this time, you should be sitting in…” She forced the rest of the sentence back down her throat. I looked down at her, my voice dead flat. “Where should I be?” She bit her lower lip hard, her face draining of color. The mockery on my face deepened. I dragged out the syllables, asking her the exact same question again. Her mask completely shattered. Her voice grew sharp and erratic. “You should be on the bench! Why are you sneaking around out here? Did you abandon your post again!” Her volume was loud, laced with a preemptive, defensive fury. A few curious heads were already turning our way. I didn’t care if anyone recognized me as the disgraced Chief Judge who got busted for drunk driving three days ago. Meeting Meredith’s furious, panicked gaze, I let out a slow, clear laugh. “What trial?” “Three days ago, I was locked up for a DUI. I just walked out of the precinct ten minutes ago.”

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1 I woke up inside an angsty, toxic romance novel. Worse, I was the tragic female lead destined to suffer. But the moment I opened my eyes, I realized I had gained a bizarre power: I could modify any number in the text of this story. With a mental flick of my wrist, I decided to play God. The manipulative mistress in the original story bragged about weighing ninety pounds with the appetite of a tiny bird. I changed her weight to three hundred pounds, making her so massive she broke her chair and sent the male lead’s jaw dropping to the floor. In the original plot, she pushed me from a seventh-floor balcony, causing me to miscarry and shattering every bone in my body. I changed the number to the first floor. I fell, brushed the dirt off my jeans, and walked right back inside. While I lay dying in the original script, she and my husband took off for a ten-day tropical island getaway. I added some zeros, turning their quick vacation into a ten-year survival nightmare. By the time they returned, I had manipulated the numbers in my bank account to become the wealthiest tycoon on the East Coast. As for them? They had spent a decade playing a real-life version of Castaway, reduced to shivering, dirt-caked cave people. It all started when I opened my eyes to find myself trapped in this cliché nightmare. The mistress was named Tiffany, and my husband was Gavin. Tiffany was the newly hired secretary at Gavin’s corporate headquarters, a master manipulator who knew exactly how to play the victim. I, Vivian, had spent years building a life with Gavin. We were childhood sweethearts. I supported him through his grueling startup years, cooking his meals and keeping his home, only to become a boring, neglected ornament in his eyes once he made his fortune. He began cheating on me, letting his toxic mistress torment me until I lost my baby, ended up paralyzed in a hospital bed, and was finally dragged off to an asylum. After endless torment, the original Vivian became a vegetative shell. Only then did Gavin realize his mistakes and begin his pathetic, desperate chase to win her back. But I was here now, and I had no intention of playing the victim. When the system notified me that I could edit the story’s numbers, I grinned. I did not need to be greedy. A few strategically placed digits would do just fine. Sitting at the dining table, I watched Tiffany pick at her food. Knowing what was about to happen, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. In this scene, Tiffany had come to our house to provoke me. She pretended to be drunk, draping herself over Gavin. He brought her home to stay in our guest room, but in the middle of the night, she wailed that she was starving. Gavin ordered me to get out of bed and cook a three-course meal for her. The original Vivian complied, only for Tiffany to take one bite and sneer. “Gavin, I have the stomach of a bird, I barely weigh ninety pounds. I am completely full after one bite. I really envy Vivian. You can tell she has a wonderful appetite just by looking at her figure.” Then she pushed the plate away with a look of disgust. “Gavin, now that I am full, the smell of this grease makes me want to throw up.” Gavin immediately ordered me to throw all the food in the trash and scrub the kitchen so Tiffany would not have to smell it. As I slaved away, he watched me with cold disdain. “Vivian, you should learn some self-discipline from Tiffany. Look at your body, you have completely let yourself go.” The original Vivian wept silently in the kitchen. She only gained weight because she had been taking heavy hormone injections for years, desperately trying to get pregnant because Gavin said he wanted a family. Now, facing the exact same scene, I pulled up the system panel. I targeted the number ninety in Tiffany’s dialogue and changed it to three hundred. The effect was instantaneous. Tiffany’s silk blouse buttons violently popped off. One button shot through the air and landed with a splash directly in the soup bowl. Her body expanded so rapidly that the delicate wooden dining chair splintered beneath her. She crashed onto the hardwood floor with a heavy, flesh-shaking thud. Gavin stared at her newly acquired rolls of fat, his eyes wide with horror and disgust. I rested my chin on my hand, looking her up and down. “Well, sweetheart, you do not look like you have the stomach of a bird to me.” Tiffany tried to stomp her foot in anger, but her massive weight sent a violent shudder through the entire dining room floor. Gavin, like most superficial men, was entirely driven by looks. The disgust in his eyes was impossible to hide. “Tiffany, help Vivian clean up the table. Walking around will be good for your weight loss.” He was bound by the novel’s plot to cheat, but his eyes betrayed his sheer confusion. He could not understand why on earth he was falling for a loud, overbearing, three-hundred-pound woman. Later that night, the original plot dictated that Gavin would sneak into the guest room for some intense, skin-to-skin intimacy. I did not care about the betrayal, but I refused to listen to their noisy antics keeping me awake. So, I pulled up the system and changed their seven inches of intimacy to zero. Gavin spent the entire night huffing and puffing, completely blocked by Tiffany’s massive, three-hundred-pound stomach. 2 Despite their lack of physical success, the novel’s plot still forced a pregnancy onto Tiffany. Gavin moved her into our home permanently and demanded that I serve her three meals a day. In the original timeline, Vivian worked day and night, cooking gourmet meals to cater to Tiffany’s endless demands. Tiffany treated her like a servant, throwing tantrums and flipping the dining table whenever a dish was not to her liking. But I was not the submissive wife. I did not feel like cooking at all. I opened the system panel and changed the phrase “three meals a day” to “one meal every three days.” When Gavin opened his mouth to give his daily order, his voice sounded strained as the plot rewrite took hold. “Vivian, you will prepare one meal every three days to serve Tiffany.” I smiled brightly. “As you wish, darling.” Tiffany’s nightmare began. Waiting seventy-two hours for a single meal left her absolutely ravenous. Every time I placed a plate in front of her, she devoured it like a feral animal, practically licking the porcelain clean. She was too busy starving to complain about the quality, let alone flip any tables. Once, she looked at the bowl of plain instant noodles I set down and let out a soft groan of disgust. I immediately grabbed the edge of the table and flipped it over, sending the noodles splashing across the floor. “Let me help you with that, Tiffany. I just realized I made this meal two hours too early. We still have time to wait before your three-day mark.” Tiffany shrieked in anger. But half an hour later, I found her on her knees, weeping as she scooped the stray noodles off the floor to eat them. From that day on, she treated my cooking with absolute reverence. She looked at every plate as if it were a sacred offering, terrified I would flip the table again. Ten months later, Tiffany gave birth to a baby boy. Shortly after, I discovered I was pregnant as well. In the original story, this pregnancy was the result of seven long years of medical treatments. Vivian cherished the baby, believing it would mend her broken marriage. But Tiffany saw the child as a threat to her position and decided to get rid of it. She began slipping high doses of toxic herbal extracts into my daily soups, causing me to suffer severe cramps and bleeding. When I was rushed to the hospital, she secretly swapped my pregnancy-safe medication with useless vitamins. After my third emergency room visit, Gavin slapped me across the face. “Stop putting on a show, Vivian. Do you really think this pregnancy makes you special? You think you can use a baby to tie me down? Tiffany has already given me a son. I only keep you around out of pity. If you try to use this baby for attention one more time, I will personally drag you to an abortion clinic.” That slap shattered the last of Vivian’s hope. She decided to survive just long enough to have her baby and leave him. But she never got the chance. Tiffany cornered her on the seventh-floor balcony and pushed her over the railing. Now, I stood on that same balcony, looking down at the ground. I felt a phantom ache in my bones, but I remained calm. I opened the panel and changed the number seven to one. As Tiffany crept up behind me, I turned, gave her a cheerful wave, and jumped over the railing myself. Amid her panicked screams, I landed softly in the manicured bushes of the first-floor garden. I crawled out, brushed the dirt off my knees, and walked back to the front door to ring the bell. 3 Because Tiffany had already poisoned my system with so many toxins, the minor fall was still enough to end the fragile pregnancy. But my bones were perfectly intact. As I lay in my hospital bed, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Best of all, Gavin and Tiffany had completely vanished from my sight since the incident. Just as I was enjoying the peace, my phone buzzed. It was Gavin. My finger slipped, and I accidentally answered the call. “Vivian, I am sorry,” Gavin’s voice sounded tight. “Tiffany has been feeling depressed lately and needs a change of scenery. I am taking her to a private island resort. I won’t be able to look after you for a while.” I squeezed my eyes shut, pretending to be heartbroken. “For how long, Gavin?” As I spoke, I opened the system panel and edited the text. Gavin’s voice faltered on the other end, sounding dazed and confused. “For… ten… years.” He cleared his throat, sounding utterly bewildered by his own words. “I am sorry, Vivian. I do not know why I said ten years. My original plan was just a quick trip to clear our heads, but…” I cut him off before he could recover. “Enjoy your decade, darling. Do not worry about a thing. I will take care of the company while you are away.” I hung up immediately, ready to enjoy my ten years of freedom. In the original timeline, Gavin left for his vacation without even paying my hospital bills. Meanwhile, Tiffany filled her social media with posts boasting about his generosity. She had shared photos of her bank account showing a five-hundred-thousand-dollar balance, alongside Gavin’s thirty-million-dollar account. Her posts featured designer bags scattered across a luxury hotel bed. Meanwhile, my own account had held a pathetic fifty dollars, a random handout Gavin had tossed to me weeks prior. Because I could not pay the hospital fees, I was discharged early. I had walked through a freezing rainstorm all night, clutching my aching stomach. That was the night the original Vivian finally lost her mind, sinking into a permanent state of paranoia until Gavin returned and committed her to an asylum. Now, I unlocked my phone and scrolled to Tiffany’s old boastful post. I changed her five hundred thousand dollars to five dollars. Then I turned Gavin’s thirty million dollars into three dollars. They were stuck on a remote island for the next ten years. I smiled, feeling like a benevolent savior. Adversity builds character, after all. I was simply giving them a wonderful opportunity to test the strength of their true love. Next, I opened my own banking app, stared at my fifty-dollar balance, and began typing zeros behind it until my thumb grew sore. I decided to take a nap and add some more tomorrow. In the original story, Vivian had called Gavin dozens of times a day during his absence until he finally blocked her number. I, on the other hand, was far too busy adding digits to my bank account to care about where he was. On the sixth day of his trip, Gavin called me. His tone was uncharacteristically polite, almost nervous. “Vivian, how have you been?” I was in the middle of typing another row of zeros and answered distractedly. “I am doing great.” Gavin hesitated, his voice tight with embarrassment. “Vivian, could you wire me some money? Or perhaps you could authorize an early release of my monthly salary of one million dollars? I was certain I brought enough funds, but for some reason, all my cards are being declined.” My eyes lit up at the mention of corporate authorization. “Gavin, you still have nine years, eleven months, and twenty-three days left on your island vacation. The company cannot run without a leader. Transfer all administrative rights to me, and I will handle your salary.” Gavin snapped, telling me I did not have the brains for business, but he quickly shut his mouth. He knew that if he abandoned the company for ten years without a trusted proxy, there would be nothing left when he returned. He had no choice but to sign the digital transfer forms. The moment the corporate power of attorney cleared, I did two things. First, I blocked Gavin’s number. Second, I adjusted his monthly corporate salary from one million dollars to one cent. For a husband who was entirely absent, a penny a month was more than generous. Ten years flew by. By constantly manipulating the numbers of my investments, I transformed myself into the most powerful financial tycoon on the East Coast. I was no longer the weeping housewife. I was a brilliant corporate force, running a massive business empire. Over the decade, handsome bachelors and elite suitors constantly sought my attention, and my life was filled with excitement. I had completely forgotten about Gavin and Tiffany. One afternoon, during a ribbon-cutting ceremony for my new shipping port, a loud gasp rippled through the crowd. “Look out there!” Everyone turned their eyes toward the ocean. A battered, makeshift raft was tossing and turning in the rough harbor waves. Two figures clung to the wooden logs. It was impossible to tell their gender at first. They were covered in layers of dirt, dressed only in woven leaves, with matted hair that dragged along the deck. I squinted at the two wild figures paddling desperately toward the dock. They looked strangely familiar. My jaw tightened as recognition set in. It was Gavin and Tiffany. I had been so absorbed in my multi-billion-dollar acquisitions that I had completely lost track of the timeline. Ten years had actually passed. Before I could process it, a massive wave flipped their fragile raft, dumping them both into the shallow, murky water near the shore.

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In the biting, howling wind, a sixteen-year-old lone soldier stared at the steaming cup of chicken noodle soup I had just made. Hugging his arms, he shivered at my door and swallowed hard. “I won’t betray my platoon. This has to be an enemy trap.” I pushed open the supermarket door and shouted, “Hey kid, I’ll trade you five hot beef hand pies for a pack of those frozen field rations. Do we have a deal?” 1. After a lot of coaxing, the young soldier finally stepped inside. Under the warm blast of the heater, the heavy winter uniform that had been frozen solid in the snow began to thaw, the fabric turning damp and heavy. Afraid he would catch a chill in wet clothes, I quickly ordered the System to front me a modern, heavily insulated Gore-Tex parka from the back inventory. The System grumbled in dissatisfaction, “I thought we were going to open a supermarket in a high-tech galaxy. Bonding with you is going to bankrupt me.” I didn’t have time to entertain its complaints. I handed the jacket to the soldier. “I’ve been researching the durability of old fabrics lately. Could you do me a favor and trade the coat you’re wearing for this one?” I pointed to the steaming cup of soup next to me. “This soup is your payment.” Though his eyes were still full of caution, his stomach let out a loud, rumbling growl. I tossed him a clean towel. “Change into this. Call me when you’re done, and I’ll come grab the old coat.” 2. I hid in the back room, my hands trembling with sheer excitement. This was actually happening. I had truly traveled seventy years back in time, and I was actually looking at my great-uncle. Last night, while I was asleep in bed, a buzzing electronic voice echoed in my ears: “Beep. System detects this individual meets the criteria for time-space traversal.” “Beep. Gender: Female. Name: Daisy Miller. Age: 26.” “Are you willing to inherit the Universal Supermarket? You may choose to open this supermarket at any time, in any location.” “Our goal is: For the gold coins. Please designate the time and location for this deployment.” I thought of the stories my grandfather used to tell me when I was little. He talked about his older brother who went off to fight in the brutal winter war at sixteen, only to vanish into the freezing mountains without a trace. Whenever my grandfather mentioned his older brother, tears would stream down his weathered face. Without a second thought, I said, “Bind. Open it seventy years ago, right next to my great-uncle Arthur Miller’s platoon.” The System wailed, “I’m doomed! I’m going to lose everything on this run!” 3. Five minutes later, a voice called out from the storefront, “I’m changed, ma’am. You can come out now.” I walked out to see my great-uncle wearing the brand-new, modern winter parka. He looked so awkward in it, unsure of where to put his hands. I waved my hand and tossed his old, ragged coat to the System. Weeping virtual tears, the System listed it on the Universal Supermarket network: “One heavily worn winter field jacket. Starting price: 1 gold coin.” I looked at my great-uncle, thoroughly satisfied with his warm new look, and picked up the bowl of chicken noodle soup. I was about to heat it up for him. He stared at me nervously, terrified I was going back on my word. “The soup got cold,” I explained. “I’m going to heat it up for you. Eating cold food will give you a stomachache.” He snatched it right out of my hands, not even bothering with a fork. In one massive gulp, he drained the broth, then sucked down the noodles in three massive bites. My heart ached. It was obvious he had been starving for days. Knowing he wouldn’t be full, I had preemptively soaked four extra blocks of noodles in the broth. When he finished, he licked his lips, unable to help himself. “No need to heat it, it was still warm. That was incredible. I bet even our Captain has never tasted soup that good.” He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “What you said earlier… trading a pack of frozen field rations for five big hot beef pies. Was that real, or were you just tricking me?” I nodded earnestly. “It’s real. However much you have, I’ll trade for it.” He lowered his head, avoiding my eyes. He dug into his torn canvas rucksack for a long time before pulling out a block of frozen, rock-hard C-rations that barely weighed half a pound. The rations were completely frozen by the snow. He looked hesitant, unable to speak. I knew my great-uncle felt like he was ripping me off, but he desperately wanted to trade for the pies to save his freezing comrades. I snatched the block from his hands and weighed it in my palm. “Looks like about a pound to me. I’ll take a little loss today and give you fifty hot beef pies.” In my head, I quietly yelled, System, bring out the giant meat pies! The System: “…” I grabbed a massive, heavy-duty hiking backpack from a store shelf and stuffed all fifty steaming beef pies inside. I helped my great-uncle strap the backpack onto his shoulders. “Money and goods exchanged, we’re all clear. Come find me next time you want to do business. No matter where you are, just walk 400 yards south and yell ‘Daisy Miller’.” My great-uncle looked at me with deep curiosity. “Are you an angel? Or a forest spirit? Did God send you to save us?” I shook my head. “Neither. If you don’t leave now, you won’t be able to catch up to your platoon.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at me for a long moment. “You’re a good lady. I’ll remember you.” Just as he stepped out the door, he turned back and shouted, “My last name is Miller too! I’m Arthur Miller. We took advantage of your kindness today, but if I get the chance, we will repay you!” My nose stung. I nodded. Not only do I know your last name is Miller… I know you are the ultimate pride of our entire family. 4. After my great-uncle left, I tossed the frozen block of rations to the System. “System, we need to wholesale a massive batch of food and medical supplies.” The System sneered. “Does wholesale not cost money? You still owe me two gold coins for that parka you fronted.” I scratched my head and smiled apologetically. “Don’t you guys have a ‘Beginner’s Starter Pack’? Doesn’t every System have one?” System: “I’ve lost four packs of noodles, fifty meat pies, and a high-end parka in a single morning, and you’re asking me for a starter pack?” “Wait a minute!” Suddenly, both the System and I heard an electronic chime: “‘One heavily worn winter field jacket’ has been purchased. Transaction amount: 10,000 gold coins.” ??? I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. “System… did you glitch out?” After repeatedly confirming there was no bug, the System skeptically listed the frozen block of rations: “‘One block of snow-soaked field rations (possibly edible?)’, Starting price: 1 gold coin.” The very next second, the mechanical voice chimed again: “‘One block of snow-soaked field rations (possibly edible?)’ has been purchased. Transaction amount: 10,000 gold coins.” The System let out an ear-piercing shriek. “Wholesale food and medicine! We MUST wholesale! I’m going to trade for every single ragged coat and frozen ration those soldiers have!” It muttered feverishly, “We’re rich… we’re so rich!” I was completely bewildered. Who had so much money and nowhere to spend it? Ten thousand gold coins for a torn jacket and a block of hardtack? Now that we were making money, the System’s attitude toward me pulled a complete 180. It used to call me “Host,” but now it affectionately called me “Boss Daisy.” I stayed in the supermarket for a few days, growing more anxious by the hour. My great-uncle had been gone for a while. Why wasn’t he coming back to find me? The temporal location I bound to was anchored to my great-uncle’s physical coordinates, so I had the System scout out his small platoon. The entire unit had about two hundred people. The vast majority were heavily wounded, moving at a grueling, crawling pace through the snow. My great-uncle’s mission back then was specifically to protect this convoy of wounded soldiers. 5. In the blinding blizzard, Arthur Miller pulled his last half-ration from his canvas bag. That girl named Daisy had given him an incredibly high-quality backpack. He couldn’t bear to use it himself, so he gave it to Nurse Clara Hayes. Nurse Clara was an eighteen-year-old medic carrying the unit’s rapidly depleting medical supplies. When Arthur returned, he noticed her medical bag had been shredded by tree branches, so he offered the trade. That day, when he pulled fifty steaming hot pies out in the freezing snow, Captain James Sterling’s eyes almost popped out of his skull. The Captain dragged him aside and demanded to know what happened. Arthur told him everything, word for word. Captain Sterling’s expression was grim. “What if this is an enemy trick? We don’t know if these pies are poisoned. We cannot drop our guard for a single second!” Arthur thought of Daisy’s kind, gentle face. The moment he met her, he felt an inexplicable, deep sense of family. But he couldn’t disobey his Captain. The two of them stared at the bag of glorious, white, steaming beef pies in a tense deadlock. After a while, Sterling looked out at the starving, dying men clinging to their last breath. He sighed, randomly grabbed a pie, and took a massive bite. Arthur’s eyes widened in horror. “Captain!” Sterling steeled his resolve, chewing the pie aggressively and swallowing hard. “If I’m not dead in an hour, distribute the pies to the men outside.” “If I die, Corporal Danny Evans takes command. The convoy does not stop moving.” It was a premium, hot, flaky crust. The inside was packed with rich, savory ground beef and gravy. The taste exploded in his mouth. Just one pie made him feel halfway full. For Arthur, that hour felt like an eternity. Finally, Captain Sterling let out a long, deep breath. “Take ten pies. Dig up some clean snow, boil it, and make a rich beef stew for everyone. Give the rest of the pies to Nurse Clara for safekeeping. No one eats a crumb without permission!” “Also, I just ate a whole pie. Don’t count me in for rations for the next two days.” Arthur quickly chimed in. “I ate a huge bowl of noodle soup at that girl’s place. I won’t eat for the next two days either.” Sterling patted his shoulder. “Why are you comparing yourself to me? I’m an old man with meat on my bones. You’re a growing kid. You need to eat!” Fifty meat pies sounded like a lot, but there were over two hundred starving mouths in the platoon. Yet, that warm, rich beef stew gave every single person the hope they needed to keep walking.

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To marry into the Manhattan elite, I fabricated my entire existence. I scrubbed away the stench of being a degenerate gambler’s son and molded myself into an Oxford-educated prodigy. But even liars have real hearts. I shed my old skin for one reason alone. I wanted the right to stand beside Victoria Sinclair. I finally breached the gates of high society. I touched the untouchable upper crust. I thought if I worked hard enough, if I became elegant and refined enough, I could stay by her side forever. That was until the always-composed Victoria Sinclair threw a physical fit over a high-school dropout who worked at a hostess club, nearly coming to blows with a major business partner. She bled millions in lost contracts and didn’t even blink. To clean up her mess, I arranged a peace-making dinner with that partner. By pure chance, I heard a familiar voice drifting from the adjacent private dining room. “Victoria, your Mr. Perfect is probably busy wiping your ass right now, isn’t he? Tsk, what a devoted little housewife. Watching him try so hard to play the elite corporate shark just to smooth things over for you almost brings a tear to my eye.” “If you weren’t trying to dodge your family’s arranged marriage, there is no way you would have married a fraud like him.” “He’s a street rat who crawled out of a trailer park. Did he really think putting on a bespoke suit and dropping a few French phrases would actually change his bloodline?” A soft chuckle escaped Victoria’s lips. It was dripping with mockery. She knew. She knew I was faking it this whole time. And she had been faking it, too. 1 Standing outside that mahogany door, my chest felt like it had been hollowed out with a shotgun blast. “I heard his deadbeat dad just got out of prison. Want to make a bet? I give it three months before his old man comes knocking for cash. When that happens, our dear Kyle’s painstakingly crafted elite persona is going to shatter into a million pieces.” “I give it one month.” The voice belonged to Carter, Victoria’s childhood friend. “The whole Oxford backstory was a nice touch, but you just can’t hide that deep-rooted poverty. Have you seen the way he cuts his steak? He grips the knife like he’s murdering a personal enemy, terrified his etiquette isn’t textbook perfect. It is absolutely hilarious.” Victoria let out a low laugh. Her tone was completely indifferent. “I bet on a year. His ego is massive. To protect his little lie, he will probably figure out a way to exile his father back to the rust belt. He won’t let him show his face anytime soon.” She paused, letting out a soft sigh. “When my mother tried to force me to marry that braindead heir from the Gallagher family, I obviously refused.” “Kyle just happened to serve himself up on a silver platter. He might be a peasant, but he is clever. I needed a clever pawn to distract my parents. With them constantly warring with him, they naturally didn’t have the energy to micromanage me.” “Besides, watching him try so desperately to mimic old-money elegance every single day is actually quite entertaining.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. Victoria had known from the very beginning. All my late nights, all my grueling efforts, were nothing but a circus act for her amusement. A chorus of laughter erupted inside the room. Victoria suddenly hushed them. Through the crack in the door, I saw a young boy. He was curled up on the leather sofa behind them, fast asleep. He was draped in Victoria’s custom-tailored trench coat. He shifted slightly, and Victoria immediately ordered the room to silence. “Keep it down. Do not wake him up. He pulled a double shift at the club last night. He is exhausted.” Carter clicked his tongue, teasing her. “Come on, Victoria. He is a literal hillbilly. He’s as unrefined as it gets. What do you even see in him?” Victoria rested her chin on her hand, gazing quietly at the sleeping boy. “Compared to Kyle’s manufactured elegance, I prefer authenticity. A twenty-dollar thrift store shirt looks incredibly charming on him. He doesn’t bow down, and he doesn’t grovel. That is what attracts me.” Just as she spoke, the boy rolled over and woke up. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and clumsily sat up. “How did I fall asleep…” He carefully handed the coat back to Victoria. “Ms. Sinclair, thank you for covering my little brother’s medical bills. I swear I will pay you back every single cent…” “You do not need to pay me back.” “No, I have to. I refuse to owe anyone.” He bit his lower lip. His eyes were shining with a stubborn, fierce pride. Victoria’s lips curled into a smile. She tapped the tip of his nose. It was a gesture full of absolute adoration. “Alright, alright. I can never win an argument with you. How about this. Come work as my executive assistant. I will pay you ten thousand a month.” Oliver’s eyes lit up. “But I didn’t even finish high school. I don’t know the first thing about business…” “Degrees do not matter. You are a smart boy. You will learn.” He hesitated for a second, then nodded eagerly. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a sewing needle. A sharp, radiating pain filled my chest. That assistant position belonged to me. The official job posting for her executive assistant strictly required a Master’s degree from an Ivy League university. My family background was a fabrication. But my academic degrees were completely real. To earn that position, I had prepared for years. Victoria’s company had a major branch in Paris. She traveled there constantly. Terrified that she would find me unprofessional, I spent every waking hour mastering French and studying high-society etiquette. I lived my entire life in transit between tutors and classes. It turned out none of that mattered to her. Not in the slightest. For the first time, I realized you didn’t need to be brilliant to stand by her side. Victoria gently ruffled the boy’s hair. “For my assistant, a high school education is more than enough.” Oliver smiled shyly. Standing in the hallway, my hands and feet went completely numb. I could barely hold myself upright. I dragged my hollow body back to my own private dining room. 2 The business partner was still trying to humiliate me. He poured cheap vodka straight into a glass of expensive scotch. “If Mr. Kyle downs this glass right now, whatever bad blood Ms. Sinclair and I have will be wiped clean.” He flashed me a sleazy, arrogant smirk. Once, to secure a contract for Victoria, I drank until my stomach hemorrhaged. I nearly died on an operating table. This time, I was done being a fool. I took the glass from his hand and poured the liquor straight onto the carpet. “Mr. Gallagher, you and Ms. Sinclair can settle your own disputes. I have other matters to attend to. Excuse me.” Like a walking corpse, I returned to the Sinclair estate. My mother-in-law was sitting rigidly on the parlor sofa, her eyes closed in meditation. Hearing the door open, she did not even bother to look up. “Have you finalized the seating chart for tomorrow’s charity luncheon with the foundation directors?” “Also, for the family heritage gala next month, I had the butler email you the flight itineraries for the senior board members. Make sure you personally arrange their airport transfers.” “We allowed you to marry into the Sinclair family so you could maintain our public image. You must execute these duties flawlessly. Otherwise, what is the difference between marrying you and plucking a filthy illiterate beggar off the streets?” A filthy beggar. My chest throbbed again. I stood quietly in the foyer. I didn’t say a single word. I just turned and walked toward the grand staircase. “Halt! Are you deaf? Or was your basic breeding fed to the dogs?” I paused at the foot of the stairs. For the first time in five years, I did not turn around to face her. “Find someone else to do it. I am tired.” Behind me, Eleanor unleashed a torrent of vicious insults, but I tuned them all out. I slammed the bedroom door shut, sealing away the noise. Memories flooded my mind. I suddenly remembered the very first time I laid eyes on Victoria Sinclair. I was a broke college student working as a banquet waiter to pay my tuition. It was my first time stepping into the glittering world of the ultra-rich. I was terrified. I was trembling. I accidentally knocked over a guest’s glass, spilling champagne all over their suit. The man flew into a violent rage. He grabbed me by the throat, slammed me into the marble floor, and kicked me hard in the ribs. I was shaking from the agonizing pain. “You filthy street rat! Do you have any idea how much this suit costs? It is custom Italian couture! It costs seven figures! It is money a bottom-feeder like you couldn’t earn in three lifetimes!” I kneeled on the floor like a beaten dog, pressing my hands together, begging for forgiveness. My face was bleeding from his slaps. The blood mixed with my tears, turning my vision red. It was Victoria who stepped out of the crowd and saved me. “It is just a piece of fabric. There is no need to torture the poor boy over it.” Her tone was light, effortless, almost bored. The way her slender, beautiful fingers held the pen as she wrote a blank check for the man. I still remember it vividly. My heart pounded violently in my chest. It was the first time I truly understood the crushing weight of class disparity. I was a top-tier university student, yet just because I was born poor, they could grind me into the dirt like an insignificant ant. But I refused to be an ant. I wanted to be the master of my own fate. I wanted a beautiful life, and I wanted the woman standing in front of me. In that moment, a twisted mixture of lust and ambition gave birth to an absurd, desperate plan. I forged my origins. I spun a web of lies. All just to earn a ticket into her world. Just to stand as her equal. I eventually made it happen. But looking back now, I finally understood that I was nothing more than a game to Victoria. She did not love my hard-earned brilliance. Yet she was completely captivated by a high-school dropout from a nightclub. Just because he was authentic. Because he refused to bow down. It was hilariously tragic. I dialed my lawyer’s number and instructed him to draft a divorce settlement. I knew it was time to end this. I lay in bed, tossing and turning in the dark. 3 It was nearly midnight when Victoria finally came home. I heard Eleanor’s muffled complaints from the living room before Victoria walked upstairs. She carried the faint scent of sweet citrus. It must have been that boy’s cologne. She kicked off her heels and unbuttoned her blouse. “My mother said you gave her an attitude today. Go down and apologize to her later.” I lay there without moving. She gently patted my shoulder. “What is wrong, baby? You look like you’re in a terrible mood.” She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. It was her usual gentle touch, yet I couldn’t feel a single trace of warmth. I forced myself to breathe evenly and replied, “It is nothing. I just don’t feel well.” “By the way, how did the dinner with Gallagher go?” “I didn’t fix it.” Victoria paused for a second. “That is fine. Drop it. We can just scrap the deal. I do not want you swallowing your pride for them.” A bitter laugh almost escaped my throat. I wanted to ask her, whose pride was she really trying to protect? But the words died on my tongue. “Alright.” I didn’t sleep a wink that night. When I walked into the corporate office the next morning, the boy had already started his first day. His name was Oliver. Up close, he was even more handsome and youthful than he looked in that dim private room. But he was an absolute idiot. During the board meeting, he couldn’t even figure out how to project the presentation slides. His meeting minutes were an illegible disaster. Victoria was notoriously ruthless with her employees. Yet toward Oliver, she possessed an infinite well of patience. I endured the farce until the meeting ended. I followed Victoria into her private office to discuss a new project rollout. Oliver hovered nearby, pouring tea. With a clumsy twist of his wrist, boiling hot tea splashed directly onto my arm. Blisters instantly erupted on my skin. All the documents on the desk were ruined. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “How do you mess up pouring water?” He slammed the teapot onto the table. He didn’t say a word, but his face was a mask of sheer defiance and resentment. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to me?” I asked him calmly, but my tone only made him defensive. “I didn’t do it on purpose! Why do you have to be so aggressive? Don’t think just because you have money you can bully me.” Standing beside us, Victoria looked at him with unmistakable admiration. Was this the fierce independence she loved so much? I was about to reprimand him, but she immediately grabbed my hand, stepping in to shield him. “He is young. He doesn’t have any corporate experience. Let me apologize on his behalf, okay?” My heart gave a violent tremor. I pulled my hand out of her grip. The incident was swept under the rug. After finishing our work discussion, I packed up to leave. Victoria suddenly cleared her throat. “I have a networking dinner tonight. Head home without me. Don’t wait up.” I knew her too well. She always cleared her throat right before she lied. “Okay.” Back in my own office, I pulled Oliver’s contact info from HR and added him on Instagram. Sure enough, just past eight o’clock, Oliver posted a new story. Victoria was sitting right there in his photo. They were eating at a dirty street-food stall. The table was covered in aggressively spicy greasy food. Next to their plates sat two cheap, sugary lemonades from a corner bodega. This was a woman who refused to drink coffee unless the beans were flown in from Yemen. Now, she was happily sipping a three-dollar lemonade. It was pathetic. I clicked onto Oliver’s profile. His sparse feed was suddenly dedicated entirely to Victoria. [My twentieth birthday. Ms. Sinclair bought me my first pair of Italian leather shoes! But I still prefer my worn-out sneakers haha.] [The CEO experiences a dive bar for the first time. She frowned the entire time but still peeled my crawfish for me!] The more I read, the tighter my chest became. Right then, my phone vibrated loudly. It was a text message from an unknown number. I glanced at the preview, and my stomach plummeted. …It was my father. He had just been released from prison. [Kyle, help your old man out. Did you really think you could strike it rich and cut me off?] [I am rotting in the gutter, and I will drag you down into the mud with me!] [Do not forget how you crawled your way into the Sinclair family. Give me half a million dollars, and I will keep my mouth shut.] I didn’t reply. My hands shook as I deleted the message. 4 I suddenly remembered the bet Victoria and her friends made in that private room. They placed bets on exactly when my facade would crumble. My father was a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later, that bomb was going to detonate. But I was exhausted. I was done living in constant, suffocating fear. If this lie was going to shatter, I wanted to be the one holding the hammer. Victoria didn’t come home until dawn the next day. She brushed it off, claiming she was stuck negotiating with clients all night. But I had already seen Oliver’s social media. There were no clients. She had hiked up a public trail with Oliver to watch the meteor shower. They spent the whole night looking at the stars, waiting for the sunrise. At the breakfast table, Eleanor spoke up. “The annual family gala is approaching. Kyle, you need to start the preparations.” The Sinclair family hosted a massive heritage gala every year. Every direct heir, distant cousin, and board member of the Sinclair dynasty attended. It was the single most important event on their social calendar. I listened to Eleanor and asked, “What is the exact date of the gala?” “The twentieth.” My phone buzzed relentlessly in my pocket. The blackmail texts were pouring in one after another. [You ungrateful brat! If you don’t reply right now, I am marching straight to your mansion!] I hesitated for a few seconds, then typed my response. [You want money? On the twentieth of this month, come find me at the Sinclair ancestral estate.] The days dragged on. The twentieth was rapidly approaching. Some people were stressed, while others were living a fantasy. Oliver’s Instagram updated daily. It was a meticulous diary of his romance with Victoria. Victoria skipped executive board meetings to drive him out to the suburbs to visit his sick grandmother. She spent her weekends experiencing the “working-class struggle” with him, wearing a ridiculous mascot costume to hand out flyers on the sidewalk. The two of them squatted on the curb, eating cheap hotdogs from a cart. Every photo, every caption was a poisoned needle driving straight into my heart. My father’s threatening texts continued to flood my phone. The messages grew increasingly vile. He called me a cheap whore, a sewer rat trying to feast with the royals. He told me I was born to die in the mud. The locked doors of my trauma were kicked wide open. I remembered his drunken rages. The way he beat me until my skin split open. He used to pin me to the dirty floor and force me to bark like a dog. He tied me up with extension cords and hung me from the ceiling pipes. My head felt like it was going to split open. The emotional pain made my physical body violently shake. I had to dig my fingernails into my palms until they bled, biting down on my teeth so hard they nearly cracked, just to maintain a blank expression. The twentieth was almost here. Money couldn’t save me anymore. This glamorous, glittering illusion couldn’t save me either. I had to crawl my own way out of this swamp. I had to save myself. The day of the gala finally arrived. The entire family was required to gather at the Sinclair ancestral estate in the Hamptons. Victoria’s Bentley was idling in the driveway. When I pulled open the passenger door, I froze. Oliver was sitting in the front seat. Victoria quickly explained, “I brought him along today to let him experience high society.” She turned to Oliver. “Move to the back seat. The front is for my husband.” Oliver bit his lip and tugged pitifully at Victoria’s silk sleeve. “Ms. Sinclair, I get terrible motion sickness. If I sit in the back, I’ll throw up…” Victoria’s heart melted instantly. “Kyle, why don’t you…” I didn’t say a word. I quietly closed the door and got into the back seat. The ride was dead silent. We finally arrived at the estate. Oliver looked exactly like I did when I first stumbled into this world. His eyes darted everywhere, terrified and shrinking into himself. But he was much luckier than I ever was. Victoria hovered over him like a protective hawk, shielding him from every judgmental stare. When a younger female cousin tried to flirt and offer Oliver a glass of champagne, Victoria silenced her with a lethal glare. “What are you doing? You already have a boyfriend. Trying to take my little assistant home as a side piece?” The cousin rolled her eyes. “Why not? Is that a problem?” Victoria instantly snapped her head back to look at me. She was checking to see if I had heard the exchange. Honestly, I was past the point of caring. I stared blankly at the antique grandfather clock against the wall, silently counting down the minutes. Finally, the estate manager rushed into the ballroom, looking frantic. He announced that an uninvited guest was causing a scene at the front gates. 5 As he spoke, his eyes kept darting nervously in my direction. “The man claims… he is here looking for the master of the house.” I spoke up, my voice perfectly flat. “Let him in.” The man who walked through the heavy oak doors was my father. His face was weathered and deeply lined. A cheap, unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. He was wearing a stained, torn flannel shirt. The soles of his work boots were peeling off. Victoria had run background checks on me. She instantly recognized his face from the private investigator’s files. She immediately flagged down the estate security. “Throw this man out!” “That won’t be necessary,” I said, stepping in front of the guards. “…What exactly do you think you are doing?” I looked Victoria dead in the eyes. “I told him to come today. I want to confess everything to your family.” Victoria’s face drained of color. She lunged forward to stop me. But it was too late. “My entire identity is a lie.” “My parents are not university professors. I am not an Oxford graduate. I am the son of a degenerate gambling addict. I have never even set foot in Europe. Every single thing I told you was a fabrication.” The grand ballroom erupted into absolute chaos. Eleanor looked like she had been struck by lightning. She was trembling violently, screaming at me, “Are you having a psychotic break?” “Eleanor, every word I am saying is the truth. If you don’t believe me, ask Victoria. She knows everything about me.” “From the very beginning, she knew I was a fraud. She sat back and watched me put on a show. She watched me play the elite prodigy, bleeding myself dry just to climb the ranks of your family.” I looked at Victoria and forced a smile. It probably looked more like a grimace. “Victoria, I lied to you, and you played me for a fool. I would say we are finally even.” Before the silence could settle, my father lost his patience. He spat on the polished marble floor. “Kyle, are you done running your damn mouth? You people can sort out your rich drama later! Give me my money!” I slowly turned my head and locked eyes with him. I spoke slowly, emphasizing every single syllable. “I don’t have your money. You are not getting a single cent.” “I just confessed everything to the Sinclair family. You no longer have any secrets to hold over my head.” “I have nothing left to lose. I am not afraid of you anymore. If you push me one more inch, I will drag us both to hell!” I pulled a pocket knife from my jacket and pointed the blade directly at him. The crowd shrieked in horror. Panic swept through the room. It was absolute pandemonium. But for the very first time in my life, I saw genuine fear flash in my father’s eyes. His lips quivered. He muttered curses under his breath, but he didn’t dare raise his voice. Right on cue, the estate security swarmed in. They grabbed him by the arms and dragged him out of the ballroom without another word. The remaining guests stared at each other in shock. The whispers grew louder, echoing off the high ceilings. “Everyone, please quiet down!” Victoria barked, her expression dark and dangerous. She glared at me. She looked like a lioness preparing to tear my throat out. “Kyle, you planned this. Pulling a stunt like this today… what exactly is your endgame?” I twirled the small pocket knife in my fingers. The blade was sharp. It slipped, slicing a shallow cut across my palm. Bright red blood welled up instantly. “I used to worship the life you people lived. I was willing to lie, cheat, and steal just to experience it for one second. Now that I have lived it, I realize it is entirely hollow. It is incredibly boring.” “When a person lives in a world that doesn’t belong to them, they will never find peace.” “I am exhausted. The illusion is broken. I just want it to be over.” “Let’s get a divorce, Victoria. I am done being a pet in your gilded terrarium.” I pulled off the blood-stained diamond wedding band and dropped it onto the marble floor. It let out a sharp, echoing clink. Her jaw locked tight. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. “A divorce? You conned me for years, and now you want out? If we divorce, you get absolutely nothing. You will walk away with the clothes on your back. I highly suggest you reconsider!” “My mind is made up.” I pulled the prepared divorce settlement from my inner pocket and handed it to her. Victoria was breathing heavily. Blinded by rage, she snatched the documents and ripped them in half. “You are not thinking straight. Once you sober up and calm down, we will talk.” “I am perfectly sober. I am divorcing you.” I looked at Victoria, my voice unwavering. “No matter what it takes, we are done.”

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