Category: English

My Roommate’s Sinister Secret Every night, my roommate would spike the milk I drank with a sedative. Then she would secretly let different men into our apartment. I remained completely oblivious to what was happening. Until one day, feeling unwell, I went for a check-up and discovered I had contracted an STD. When I returned home, I overheard my roommate on the phone with someone. “So, how was my roommate? An Ivy League graduate, and at that price – I’d say you got quite a bargain.” I was utterly heartbroken. In the ensuing argument, my roommate pushed me down the stairs, and I died on the spot. When I regained consciousness, my roommate was standing in front of me, offering that same drugged glass of milk. “Lily, haven’t you been having trouble sleeping lately? Here, have some warm milk,” my roommate Yvonne said with a smile as she handed me a mug. As I saw the milk, my mind started racing. In my previous life, I had been fooled by Yvonne’s fake kindness and unknowingly drank this drugged milk. In the days that followed, my sleep indeed improved significantly. However, every time I woke up, I felt strange, as if something was off with my body. Despite thorough self-examinations, I couldn’t find anything wrong. It wasn’t until two weeks later when I experienced itching and swelling in my private area that I realized something was seriously wrong. When the hospital diagnosis came back, my world shattered. I had contracted an STD! But how was this possible? I hadn’t been in a relationship for three years. How could I have gotten such a disease? Feeling dejected, I returned home. As I approached our apartment, I overheard Yvonne on the balcony, talking on the phone: “So, how was it? My roommate is an Ivy League graduate, a good girl from a respectable family. The price I gave you is a steal. Want to come again? Alright, tonight at midnight. Same rules apply: no visible injuries, and clean up thoroughly when you’re done.” I burst into tears and confronted her. “I saw you didn’t have a boyfriend for so long. I was just being kind, worried you might be lonely. You should be thanking me. Who knows where you got that nasty disease from anyway,” Yvonne said with a look of contempt. Enraged, I started to fight with her. But Yvonne was stronger than me. She pushed me from the tenth floor, and I died on the spot. Afterward, Yvonne spread rumors that I had committed suicide by jumping off the building because I got an STD from sleeping around. My parents were subjected to gossip and judgment. Now that I’ve been given a second chance, I must make her pay for her sins!

Coming back to my senses, I pretended to stand up casually. “Oh no!” I exclaimed as I deliberately bumped into Yvonne’s arm. The hot milk spilled all over her face and hair. “Oh, Yvonne, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that,” I apologized frantically, grabbing a rag I had just used to clean the floor and started wiping her face with it. “Lily! What are you doing with that filthy rag? It’s disgusting!” Yvonne screamed, dodging away from me. I put on an apologetic face. “I’m so sorry, Yvonne. I’ve been overworked lately, and I’m not in the best state of mind.” Yvonne glared at me, gritting her teeth. But thinking about what she had planned for later, she swallowed her anger. “It’s okay, Lily. I’ll go get you another glass,” Yvonne said, turning back to the kitchen. Soon, she came out with another glass of milk. “Here, Lily. Drink it while it’s warm,” Yvonne said, watching me expectantly. I calmly took the milk but didn’t drink it. “Why aren’t you drinking it?” Yvonne asked, starting to get anxious. “Yvonne, why don’t you have some too? I feel bad drinking alone,” I said, shaking my head and putting the glass down. “Oh, alright, I’ll drink too,” Yvonne said hurriedly, rushing back to the kitchen to make another glass of milk. “Let’s drink together, okay?” Yvonne urged me again. I smiled and brought the milk to my lips. Yvonne watched me nervously. But just as the milk touched my lips, I stopped. “What’s wrong now?” Yvonne asked, her tone tinged with impatience. I smiled sheepishly. “Yvonne, I prefer my milk a bit sweeter. Could you get me some honey?” Yvonne’s cheeks puffed up in frustration, but she finally gave in and went to the kitchen to fetch the honey jar. With lightning speed, I switched the positions of the two glasses.

“Is this good enough, princess?” Yvonne said sarcastically. I made a face at her, then slowly drank the milk under Yvonne’s watchful gaze. Yvonne let out a subtle sigh of relief. “You watch some TV. I’ll go wash the dishes,” Yvonne said, humming a tune as she quickly cleared away the milk glasses. When Yvonne came back, I pretended to be drowsy. “Yvonne, your milk really works wonders. I’m feeling sleepy already. I think I’ll head to bed now,” I said, yawning as I walked towards my room. Yvonne’s eyes lit up immediately. “Of course, of course! You go right ahead. I’ll make you milk every night from now on,” she said enthusiastically. Looking at her scheming face, I laughed coldly to myself. Soon, she’d learn who would truly suffer the consequences of her actions.

Back in my room, I quickly got under the covers and closed my eyes. Soon, I started making soft snoring sounds. Yvonne listened at my door, trying to gauge if I was asleep. Hearing no movement, she called out tentatively, “Lily, are you asleep?” I didn’t answer. Finally, Yvonne showed her true colors. “Slut, you’re in for a treat tonight,” Yvonne cursed under her breath. She immediately sent a voice message: “Everything’s ready on my end. Just follow the instructions I gave you, got it?” After sending the message, Yvonne yawned. “This really wore me out. I need to get some good sleep too.” As Yvonne’s door closed, my eyes snapped open.

Yvonne hadn’t closed her door properly. I pushed it open a crack. Yvonne was sleeping deeply; the noise of me opening the door didn’t wake her. “Yvonne,” I called, shaking her gently. Yvonne didn’t respond at all. I had to admit, the sleeping drug was potent. I unlocked Yvonne’s phone using her fingerprint. What I found shocked me to my core. Yvonne was part of a group chat called “Lost Forest” with over a hundred members. Scrolling through the chat history, cold sweat broke out on my back. This group was dedicated to providing unconscious girls for perverts to abuse. Yvonne was one of the perpetrators. Her target, naturally, was me, her roommate. She mixed sleeping drugs into my milk, making me fall into a deep sleep. Then she would let people in. Afterward, they would leave cash in the living room. No one would ever know. The more I read, the colder my heart became. The Yvonne online was vastly different from the seemingly innocent and lively girl in real life. She was vicious and cunning. Today, she had found the first “client” for me. She had left the key under the doormat for the person to let themselves in. I was shaking with anger. I created a new account, used Yvonne’s account to add myself to the group, then deleted each other as friends. Then I found the chat with that person and sent a message: “I’m sorry, I made a mistake. It’s the room on the east side. Don’t go to the wrong one, okay?”

After receiving the person’s reply, I deleted these two messages and put the phone back exactly where I found it next to Yvonne’s pillow. As I left the room, I looked at Yvonne’s oblivious face and felt a surge of emotions. You never truly know someone, even if you live with them. Who would have thought I was sharing a room with a wolf in sheep’s clothing! I had to get my revenge! I went to the kitchen and started searching for clues. Soon, I found two cans of milk powder in the food cabinet. The only difference was that one can had my name taped to it. It seemed Yvonne was afraid of mixing them up, ensuring I would always drink the drugged milk powder. I let out a cold laugh, then switched the labels on the cans and swapped their positions. To gather more evidence, I took out the hidden cameras I had bought online last month. Coincidentally, my makeup had been mysteriously disappearing. To get to the bottom of it, I had bought two mini cameras that I hadn’t used yet. I went back to Yvonne’s room and hid one of the cameras in the eye of the teddy bear facing her bed.

I locked my door and quietly waited for the person to arrive. Just after 10 PM, I heard the sound of the front door opening. My heart immediately started racing. The person tiptoed towards our bedrooms. After a moment’s hesitation, they pushed open Yvonne’s door. My heart was pounding. After the door closed, I turned on the surveillance feed. The man was burly. When he saw Yvonne sleeping on the bed, he couldn’t help but swallow hard. “Damn, she’s so young and fresh,” he muttered. Without wasting any more time, the man eagerly pounced on her. What followed was an extremely disturbing scene. I turned off the camera in disgust. Half an hour later, I heard the door opening and closing again. Soon after, the person left our apartment. I finally let out a sigh of relief. I gently opened my door and saw a stack of cash on the coffee table in the living room. Through the slightly open door, I could see Yvonne still sleeping soundly. Her clothes and bedding had been tidied up, looking no different from when she went to sleep. I felt relieved. Now, it was time for Yvonne to get a taste of what I had experienced in my previous life.

Early the next morning, Yvonne saw the cash on the coffee table and started counting it with satisfaction. “Yvonne, where did this money come from?” I asked curiously. Yvonne turned to look at me with a cryptic smile. “Oh, this is from my part-time job,” Yvonne said, her tone containing a barely noticeable hint of amusement. I nodded, rubbing my sore neck. “Yvonne, I woke up this morning feeling achy all over. I wonder if I had sleep paralysis or something. I’m a bit scared. When the lease is up next month, I’m thinking about moving out.” “No way!” Yvonne exclaimed urgently. Realizing her reaction was off, Yvonne quickly put on a smile. “Lily, aren’t we good living together? Besides, I’d be scared living alone.” Yvonne clung to my arm, acting coy. “But,” I furrowed my brow in concern, “our company is still behind on our wages. I was thinking of moving to a cheaper place.” Naturally, Yvonne didn’t want to lose her cash cow. “Come on, Lily, please stay with me. How about I help you with the rent?” Yvonne suggested, clearly calculating. Compared to her daily illicit income, the thousand-dollar rent seemed trivial. This was perfect, allowing me to save up more money to move out sooner. “Alright then, thank you, Yvonne,” I said, hugging her with a smile. A flash of mockery and triumph crossed Yvonne’s face. The corners of my mouth turned up in a wild grin. Soon, Yvonne would receive her just punishment.

n the days that followed, Yvonne made me a cup of hot milk every night. To allay my suspicions, she would drink with me each time. After drinking the milk, Yvonne always slept exceptionally well. Sometimes she would grow suspicious, but I always managed to brush it off. Plus, with the cash appearing on the coffee table every morning as promised, Yvonne couldn’t be bothered to think too much about it. Meanwhile, in Yvonne’s evil group chat, many people were sharing their success stories. Including Yvonne. “My roommate is as dumb as a pig. I give her drugged milk, and she drinks it happily, lying there making money for me without a clue,” Yvonne boasted proudly. The group members praised her cleverness. Thanks to Yvonne’s promotion, more and more people came to her for “business.” Yvonne’s pockets grew increasingly full. Her attitude towards me became even worse. After all, in her mind, I was nothing but a cheap slut. I didn’t care at all. I lurked in the group chat, saving all the incriminating evidence. I was just waiting for the day when everything would come crashing down, ready to destroy all these vermin in one fell swoop. And it seemed Yvonne’s downfall was coming sooner than expected.

“What are you looking at? Have you no shame?” Yvonne started arguing with Butcher Bill at the farmers’ market. It all began because Butcher Bill kept leering at Yvonne. Yvonne couldn’t stand it anymore and started a fight with him in the middle of the market. “You old pervert, haven’t you ever seen a woman before? What are you staring at?” Yvonne yelled, hands on her hips, pointing her finger right in Butcher Bill’s face. Butcher Bill, in his forties and built like a tank, flushed red with anger at being berated by a young girl in public. “Young lady, watch your mouth,” Butcher Bill said, his face darkening. Yvonne, never one to back down when she thought she was right, got even more fired up seeing the crowd gathering around them. “I thought you looked like an honest man, but you’re actually so disgusting. I’m young enough to be your daughter, you old lecher. Stop staring or you’ll go blind!” Yvonne’s tone was particularly harsh. Butcher Bill was feeling embarrassed under the crowd’s scrutiny. “Get on your knees and apologize!” Yvonne demanded, ignoring Butcher Bill’s murderous glare. “You slut, you think you’re still a pure virgin? Who knows how many men have had you, and you still have the nerve to act like an innocent little flower!” Butcher Bill exploded, pointing at Yvonne and letting loose. Hearing such humiliating words, Yvonne became even more enraged. “Are you spreading dirty rumors about me?” Yvonne glared, threatening to call the police. Butcher Bill sneered, “Rumors? You have a red birthmark below your belly button, right? And three moles on your butt.” At these words, Yvonne was stunned. These were indeed marks on her body. “You… how the hell do you know that?” Yvonne was shocked. Butcher Bill just smiled meaningfully. The crowd around them grew even more excited hearing such juicy gossip. They all thought it was some scandalous affair. Yvonne fell silent. I stood by, quietly observing. Suddenly, Yvonne jerked her head up, glaring fiercely at Butcher Bill: “You fucking old pervert, have you been peeping on me in the shower?!”

At these words, not only Butcher Bill but even I was stunned. After thinking for so long, this was the conclusion Yvonne had come to. Butcher Bill opened his mouth, but before he could defend himself, Yvonne exploded. “You shameless creep! No wonder you can’t have a son! You scumbag!” Yvonne grabbed a chunk of pork from the chopping board and hurled it at Butcher Bill. In an instant, the entire farmers’ market was in chaos, with pork flying everywhere. Butcher Bill dodged the flying meat while glaring viciously at Yvonne. But Yvonne, completely oblivious to the murderous intent in Butcher Bill’s eyes, continued throwing meat and cursing. Seeing the situation getting out of hand, I grabbed Yvonne’s arm. “Yvonne, stop fighting here. It’s embarrassing. Let’s go home,” I said, trying to persuade Yvonne while dragging her out of the crowd. Yvonne kept cursing as we left, while Butcher Bill’s eyes grew colder by the second. Back home, Yvonne was still fuming. “Damn it, ran into a ghost when I went out. What rotten luck!” Yvonne angrily swept the cups off the coffee table. I watched silently as she raged. Why was Butcher Bill leering at Yvonne? Why did he know about the birthmarks on Yvonne’s body? That’s because Butcher Bill was one of Yvonne’s “clients.” The information in the group chat was confidential, so Yvonne didn’t know that the person she had arranged was Butcher Bill. But Butcher Bill had seen everything clearly. After being humiliated by Yvonne today, would he just let it go? Just after dinner, that evil group chat started buzzing with activity. A user named “Rainy Night Butcher” openly tagged Yvonne: “I’m coming to your place again tonight.”

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I followed James for seven years, living frugally, and finally saved our first million dollars. In this vast New York City, we could finally have a place to call our own. But on the day we were supposed to pay the deposit, James withdrew all the money from our joint account. I called him repeatedly: “Where’s the money? Why did you take out all of our savings?” He replied, “I can’t ignore Lily’s situation. You know she’s like a sister to me.” “She needs this money more than we do.” I looked at the woman in front of me, wearing a silk nightgown, every hair in place. Then I glanced at myself, worn out after seven years, wearing a wrinkled old sweater. Suddenly, I woke up. The determination to end this seven-year relationship filled me at that moment. “James, where’s the money? Why did you withdraw all of it without saying a word?” I shouted as soon as I entered the apartment, filled with anger. James got up from the couch and brought a cake to me: “Emma, I bought your favorite chestnut cake. Have a slice and calm down.” I stared into his eyes and asked again: “I’m asking you where the money went?” He avoided my gaze: “You know, Lily was scammed recently and got into online debt.” James lowered his voice and continued: “She even… sent her nude photos to someone as collateral.” “They said if she doesn’t pay back soon, they’ll send the photos to her friends and family.” “You’re a woman too, you should understand what this means for a girl, right?” I felt weak all over: “Did you give her everything?” I pounded on James’s chest: “You knew very well that was our seven-year savings for buying a house!” At this moment, Lily came out of the bathroom. Fresh out of the shower, Lily’s skin was fair and radiant. Her bare face looked clean and beautiful, with large innocent eyes that made her look particularly pitiful. Not just James, even I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her when I saw her. She spoke with a hint of tears, looking at me: “It’s all my fault. Sister, please don’t fight with James. He was just trying to help me.” “I only borrowed a few thousand dollars, but in just two months, they’re asking me to pay back hundreds of thousands. Where would I get that kind of money?” I looked at her, wearing a silk nightgown that made her look very refined. Then I looked at myself, wearing a sweater I’d had for five years, wrinkled like a cleaning rag, looking more like sleepwear than her actual nightgown. I took deep breaths, trying to expel the anger building up in my chest. But I still felt extremely frustrated. Seeing me like this, James wanted to say something more but didn’t dare. After hesitating several times, he finally spoke: “By the way, Emma, there’s something I want to discuss with you.” “Lily hasn’t paid rent for two months and was kicked out by her landlord.” “She’s a girl, and she has nowhere to go.” “Can we… can we let her stay with us for a few days?” I looked around and noticed several suitcases in the living room that weren’t there before. I didn’t respond, just walked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut. Discuss? He took all our money to pay off Lily’s loan and directly brought her to our home. Which of these things did he actually discuss with me? 0

James and I had been together for seven years. When I was interviewing for my first job in New York City, I almost arrived late because the subway system was so confusing with all its twists and turns. I wandered around for ages without finding the right exit. In desperation, I grabbed a random person on the street to ask for directions. As it turned out, this person worked at the company where I was interviewing and directly took me there. Later, we became colleagues, and then we became a couple. New York City can feel like a cold place, but because of him, these seven years have had a bit of warmth. He wasn’t just my boyfriend; he was also my dining companion, movie buddy, and travel partner. After getting together, like many people in New York, we started saving money, eagerly anticipating the day when we could have our own little nest among the city’s dazzling lights. To save up for a down payment on a house, we lived frugally for seven years, leaving early and returning late every day, never missing a day of work, not even taking a single sick day. On rainy days in the run-down neighborhood, the narrow alleys would be filled with muddy water, making my shoes dirty. Walking through it so often, even my obsession with cleanliness seemed to have worn away. On social media, people our age were traveling to various places, seeing beautiful sights, and eating all kinds of delicious food. During holidays, we only dared to stay in our damp, dark little room, sharing a single portion of cheap takeout between the two of us. During these seven years, James would often stroke my head and say with concern in his eyes: “Emma, I’m sorry you have to struggle like this with me.” “Once we buy a house, we’ll get married right away, and I promise I’ll treat you well.” Every time I saw the sincerity in his eyes, I felt it was all worth it. But now that all the money had been given to Lily to pay off her debt, we couldn’t buy the house anymore. Would we still get married? A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. James came in with a cup of hot chocolate: “I’m sorry, please don’t be angry, okay?” He put the hot drink on the table and tried to hug me. Seeing the apologetic look in his eyes, in the past, I might have softened. But this time, I found the person in front of me repulsive. Being with James for so many years, his good qualities were obvious. He wasn’t flirtatious and was quite family-oriented. He was good to me and my family too. When my dad suddenly had a heart attack, if it wasn’t for him, I might have just panicked helplessly. But all his maturity and rationality seemed to disappear when it came to Lily. Thinking about how he had repeatedly favored Lily in the past, I felt anger rising inside me. I avoided him and crawled into bed. He seemed a bit helpless: “Don’t always be like this.” “That money… I’ll find a way to earn it back. If I have to, I’ll drive for Uber or deliver food after work.” “You know, Lily grew up with me. When we were poor, her parents helped our family a lot. When her dad passed away, he asked me to take good care of her. Now that she’s in such big trouble, how can I just stand by and do nothing?” “You can understand that, right?” James cared for his childhood friend, but where did he put me when he was protecting her? Lily ate and dressed well every day. If she had borrowed money to save a life or do something meaningful, I could still understand. But she only borrowed money to satisfy her vanity, buying luxury bags and traveling everywhere. How could I understand that? I looked into James’s eyes, tears welling up: “What about me?” “I struggled with you for seven years, and now we have nothing left. Did you think about me?” We stood in silent confrontation. Suddenly, I felt utterly exhausted. I grabbed my pajamas and ran to the bathroom, hoping a shower would help alleviate the frustration in my chest. After showering and returning to the room, I found Lily sitting on my bed watching a TV series, occasionally bursting into laughter. For me, today felt like the sky had fallen. For her, it seemed like nothing had happened. Her laughter was grating, as if mocking me for being a fool all these years. I walked straight up to her and said only two words: “Get out.” 0

Lily looked up in shock, giving me an innocent look. James, hearing the commotion, came in from the living room. Seeing James, Lily’s eyes welled up with tears: “I’m sorry, sister. I thought James had told you I’d be sleeping with you tonight.” “If you don’t want me to sleep here, I’ll leave right away.” James pressed his lips together: “Didn’t Lily always sleep with you when she came over before?” “Besides, we only have one bedroom, there’s no other option.” “You two squeeze in for tonight, and first thing tomorrow morning, I’ll take a day off to help Lily find a place.” I coldly repeated: “Get out.” “Both of you, get out.” I’ve always been mild-mannered, so when James saw me like this, he knew I was truly angry. He signaled to Lily with his eyes, indicating that they should leave. Seeing this, Lily started gathering her bedding while sobbing. As they left and closed the door, my tears finally fell uncontrollably down my cheeks. These tears were so bitter. Half for finally seeing my place in James’s heart, half for my seven years of youth. I don’t know what time I fell asleep, but as soon as the alarm went off, I habitually got up. After so many years, I had been trained into a qualified corporate slave, and a qualified corporate slave goes to work no matter what happens, no matter how upset they are. Opening the bedroom door, I saw Lily and James also getting ready for work. Today’s weather matched my mood – pouring rain. Lily looked out the window and whined to James, “Let’s take a cab today, okay?” “Our offices are on the same route anyway, it won’t cost much. Fifty dollars should be enough to get there.” James’s eyes were full of indulgence as he took out his phone and called a cab without hesitation. James looked at my puffy and swollen eyes, a flash of concern crossing his face: “Emma, come with us. It’s raining heavily today.” I shook my head and went to wash up. For the past seven years, to save money, I never took a cab, whether it was raining or even during a typhoon. Several times I had already opened the ride-hailing app and entered the starting location, but seeing the fare displayed on my phone, I would steel myself, grab an umbrella, and walk a mile to take the bus instead. Thinking back now, although James always said he felt sorry for me, he never actively offered to call a car for me. As I reached the ground floor, I seemed to see my past self wearing rain boots, carefully holding an umbrella, but still getting splashed all over by passing cars, looking utterly miserable. The rain was getting heavier, fine droplets landing on my body, adding a chill to my heart. This time, I called a car for myself. 0

For the next few days, not wanting to see them, I left early and returned late every day. On Saturday, while I was still thinking about how to avoid them, I woke up to find they had already gone out. In the evening, James sent me a message: “No need to cook tonight, I’ll bring food back for you.” Since I didn’t feel like cooking anyway, I didn’t refuse. Around 8 PM, James and Lily returned with several bags. Their laughter could be heard even before they entered the apartment. James put the takeout on the dining table: “Emma, I brought you some Japanese food. Come and eat.” These past few days, James had been trying to please me, either consciously or unconsciously. I didn’t know if he genuinely felt he had done something wrong, or if he was just placating me, hoping I would end the cold war quickly. I glanced at the bags they brought back. The orange Louis Vuitton shopping bag was particularly eye-catching. Lily took out the LV handbag from the bag, showing it off in front of me: “Sister, isn’t this bag beautiful?” “James bought it for me, saying it’s to celebrate my escape from the threats of those loan sharks.” James noticed my gaze and said sheepishly: “You didn’t go today, so another day I’ll take you shopping and buy you one too.” I looked at the bag hanging on the back of the door, which I had bought from a second-hand platform and had been using for five years, and suddenly found it somewhat amusing. One year on my birthday, James said he wanted to buy me a luxury handbag as a birthday gift. His regular salary was mostly deposited into our joint account, leaving him with little money for himself. The money he said he would use to buy me a bag was his overtime pay for half a year. I felt sorry for him and thought that for a handbag, a second-hand one would be fine. So I told him to buy one from a second-hand website. Now that I think about it, I was wrong. In all these years with James, I had placed myself too low. Because I loved him, I always thought more about him, always felt that being together meant working hard towards a common goal. I always thought James felt the same way. I always thought he couldn’t bear to take me to nice restaurants, couldn’t bear to give me expensive things, couldn’t bear to go out and play with me, because he wanted to save money to give me a home. But I was terribly mistaken. As time went on, he only came to think that I didn’t deserve these things, that there was no need to spend money or effort buying these things for me, and that I would always stay by his side anyway. At this moment, it was as if I suddenly woke up. No longer hysterical, no longer trying to evoke his love through the cold war. I quietly walked to the dining table and put the scattered pieces of sushi, which looked like their leftovers, into my mouth. The determination to end this seven-year relationship filled me at this moment. After eating, I slowly spoke: “Weren’t you supposed to be looking for an apartment? When are you moving out?” 0

Lily’s tears came on cue: “Sister, I’m sorry for disturbing you two.” “We haven’t found a place yet.” “If you really don’t want me to stay here, I can go crash at a friend’s place for a few days starting tomorrow.” Although Lily seemed to be talking to me, her eyes were on James. I reminded her: “Okay, remember to pack all your things.” Lily glanced at James and started packing. Her sobbing sounded particularly loud in the quiet room. James grabbed Lily’s hand: “Don’t mind her.” Then he turned to look at me, frowning: “Emma, haven’t you had enough?” “It’s been days, and you’re still walking around with that sour face. Who are you trying to impress?” “Why are you being so petty?” “I’ve already explained everything to you nicely. Lily is like a sister to me. She just escaped from danger, can’t she stay here for a few days until we find her a place? It’s dangerous for a girl to be out there alone, who knows if she might get scammed again.” “Do you have to make everyone so uncomfortable?” Originally, I just wanted to quietly sort out everything between us and then part ways gracefully. But since James insisted on laying it all out like this, I’d play along. I glared at James: “Sister, you say sister, right?” “Giving her all the money we saved for seven years, being at her beck and call anytime, even running to her when I was sick, that kind of sister?” “You two clearly have something going on, yet you hide behind the facade of being siblings, flirting ambiguously.” “Am I your backup plan? Or am I here to highlight how well-matched you two are, how in sync, how good your relationship is?” Guilt, nervousness, and awkwardness intertwined on James’s face. He transformed these unmanageable emotions into a slap across my face. It also completely shattered our seven years of relationship.

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In those years when I had been constantly pursuing my uncle, Samuel Whitman, he tried his best to avoid me. It was not until shortly before my death that I learned he was an immortal being who could live for a thousand years. When I died in despair in the fire, he was holding a grand wedding with his beloved. After being reborn, I treated Samuel with great respect everywhere. I restrained my feelings and even took the initiative to match him with the person who was said to be his beloved. However, Samuel seemed possessed. This time, he became the one who pestered me relentlessly. He asked, “Why are you avoiding me?” When the fire completely engulfed me, I despairingly thought that if I had a chance to start over, I would never fall in love with Samuel Whitman again. Perhaps my obsession had been too deep. After my death, my soul hadn’t dissipated immediately. Instead, I had been reluctant to leave the mortal world, or rather, I hadn’t wanted to leave Samuel. Chasing after Samuel had been my habit for more than ten years. I coldly watched as Samuel married his long-time lover the day I died. When the two of them toasted hand in hand at the wedding, anyone who saw them would have praised them as a perfect match. But I was not one of them. I had thought I wouldn’t feel anything after death. But seeing Samuel and Janet Hall smiling and chatting merrily, my heart still ached. When Samuel was handling my funeral, I followed right behind him. Samuel had been an immortal who could live for a thousand years. More than ten years passed, and Samuel’s face remained the same as ever. However, when he looked at my tombstone indifferently, it was as if he was looking at a stranger. I finally realized that Samuel and I were destined to be strangers. Before my soul wholly dissipated, I made a wish that I would never meet Samuel again. However, things hadn’t gone as I wished. Unexpectedly, when I opened my eyes again, I was back at the time when the Scholastic Assessment Test had just ended. Looking around the familiar room, I covered my face and couldn’t stop crying. I had never thought that God really gave me a chance to start over. At this time, my relationship with Samuel hadn’t been too bad yet. It was not long after I confessed my love to Samuel that our relationship deteriorated utterly. But this time, I didn’t make the same mistake again. “Cynthia.” Samuel’s voice sounded, and I instinctively took two steps back. I asked, “What’s the matter, Uncle Samuel?” Samuel opened the door of my room, and there seemed to be complex emotions in his eyes that I couldn’t understand. “What’s the matter, Uncle Samuel?” I felt creepy being stared at by Samuel’s complicated eyes. Could he tell that I was reborn? No, that was impossible. Samuel seemed to wake up from a dream. He touched his nose a little awkwardly. “It’s time for dinner, Cynthia.” I replied, “Oh, I see. I will go right away.” The meal was eerily quiet. In my past life, I had always been worried about losing things. When Samuel first adopted me, I was afraid of being abandoned by him, so I always unconsciously tried to please him. Later, after I fell in love with Samuel, I wanted to stick to him and be by his side all the time. For this reason, I got a lot of disgust from Samuel. Keeping a distance from Samuel like that was the first time in both my past and present lives. Samuel said, “Cynthia.” My hand holding the fork tightened instinctively. “Uncle Samuel, you taught me that we shouldn’t talk while eating.” Samuel smiled, just like the first time I saw him in my past life. At that time, a handsome and elegant young man gently reached out his hand to me and asked if I would like to go home with him. “Cynthia, why are you so distant from me now?” There seemed to be a bit of pain in Samuel’s eyes. I almost thought I was hallucinating. In my past life, Samuel had hated it the most when I interfered in his life under the pretext of being family. Why was he showing this attitude now? I said, “I’m not.” Samuel reached out and touched my head. “Cynthia, no matter what, I will always be with you and always by your side.” I lowered my head, and tears fell uncontrollably. Samuel was such a big liar. I would never believe a word Samuel said again.

I keenly sensed that Samuel’s attitude towards me seemed to have changed. In my past life, Samuel always kept a distance from me and lectured me in the manner of an elder. But now, something was off about Samuel. However, before I could figure it out, an unexpected guest arrived at our house. I silently poured coffee for Janet, not wanting to get too involved with her. “Uncle Samuel is having a meeting in the study. Ms. Hall, please wait for a while.” Janet sized me up and down, and her gaze made me feel highly uncomfortable. She said, “Cynthia, the Scholastic Assessment Test is over, right? You’re an adult now. You should keep a distance from your uncle. By the way, which university are you planning to apply to?” “I’ll take care of such matters for Cynthia. It’s none of an outsider’s concern,” said Samuel with a sullen face and an unfriendly tone. Janet’s expression immediately turned unpleasant. She forced a smile and said, “Samuel, how could I be an outsider? Anyway, I’m her elder.” I stood aside, remaining silent. Logically speaking, Samuel shouldn’t have been so cold towards Janet. At this time in my past life, Samuel and Janet had even reached the stage of discussing the details of their wedding. I stole a glance at Samuel, only to meet his eyes directly. “Cynthia has only me as her elder,” Samuel said in a calm voice. “I’ll take care of her affairs for a lifetime.” Janet’s expression froze, and she gave me a fierce glare. “Of course.” I bit my lip, feeling awkward in this strange atmosphere. I said, “Uncle Samuel, Ms. Hall is right. I’m already an adult, but you still haven’t gotten married. Ms. Hall is very nice. You two…” My voice grew lower because the way Samuel was staring at me was as if he would devour me. I was very confused. Sensing that the atmosphere was weird, Janet left quickly, leaving only me and Samuel in the living room. I rubbed my fingers, trying to keep my tone calm. “Uncle Samuel, if there’s nothing else, I’ll go back to my room.” Samuel nodded. Then, as if he had thought of something, he asked, “Cynthia, do you really want me to get married?” I stopped in my tracks. Of course, I didn’t want Samuel to get married. But did my opinion matter? I said helplessly, “Of course. Uncle Samuel, you’ve taken care of me for so long. I want you to be happy.” The next second, Samuel’s breath came from above my head, instantly enveloping me. “Is this your true feeling?” Samuel grabbed my wrist and rubbed it, forcing me to look up and meet his gaze. “Cynthia, tell me. Is this your true feeling?” I looked away guiltily. “Uncle Samuel, you’re hurting me.” Samuel seemed to wake up from a dream and suddenly let go of my hand. “I’m sorry, Cynthia. But you never used to be so distant from me before.” Perhaps because the sense of desolation in Samuel’s tone was too obvious, I couldn’t help but look at him. In both my past and present lives, I had never seen such an expression on Samuel’s face, as if he had lost something dear to him and was heartbroken. I shivered. Could Samuel have known that I was reborn?

The mere thought of this possibility sent a chill through my body. If it were true, what was Samuel up to with this attitude? Didn’t he dislike me and was eager to get rid of me to be with Janet as soon as possible? Memories of my past life came crashing down on me like a tidal wave, and a sharp pain shot through my head. Just then, Samuel happened to bring me a glass of milk. Seeing my state, he rushed to my side in a panic. “What’s wrong, Cynthia?” I leaned weakly against Samuel. “Uncle Samuel, my head hurts…” Samuel looked extremely worried. “Are you okay? I’ll take you to the hospital.” A flood of memories was rampaging through my mind, and all I wanted to do was rest. “Don’t.” Perhaps the memories of my past life overlapped with the Samuel in front of me, and my tone was rather willful. “Samuel, I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Samuel seemed a bit taken aback. But then, he smiled, “Why aren’t you calling me Uncle Samuel anymore? Silly girl, if you don’t want to go to the hospital, we won’t go.” Samuel touched my forehead to check my temperature and then held my hand. The warmth of Samuel spread from his palm into my body. It was the warmth I had been longing for. I closed my eyes, and the pain was pressing down on my eyelids. “I’ll be fine after lying down for a while.” “Cynthia, were the words you said today sincere?” Samuel’s soft voice reached my ears, almost like a bewitchment. He continued, “Cynthia is so naughty. As soon as you become an adult, you can’t wait to push me away.” In a daze, I shook my head vigorously to deny it. I wanted to say, “I didn’t. Samuel, it was you who didn’t want me. From the beginning to the end, it was you who pushed me away.” Samuel said, “Cynthia, Janet isn’t a good person. Trust me. Don’t have too much contact with her. If you have anything, just tell me.” I seemed to be trapped in the nightmare of my past life. I could only hear Samuel’s voice but couldn’t make any response. The fire was licking every inch of my skin, filling me with despair. I shouted in my heart, “Samuel, save me! Save me!” “Cynthia? Are you listening to me? Cynthia?” Samuel’s anxious voice sounded. Like a drowning person, I suddenly opened my eyes and gasped for air. The next second, Samuel hugged me tightly, stroking my back as if confirming something precious. He said, “Cynthia, are you okay? Don’t scare me, Cynthia.” I stiffened all over under Samuel’s touch. His scorching warmth seemed to spread through every inch of my body from my back, awakening my longing for Samuel. I took a deep breath and pushed Samuel away. “I’m fine. Uncle Samuel, please behave yourself.” Samuel’s hand froze in mid-air. After a long time, he reached out and pulled me back into his arms. He said, “Cynthia, be good. Let me hold you a little longer. I don’t know why, but I feel like I haven’t seen you for a long time.” I was a bit stunned. The warmth belonging to Samuel seeped into my body bit by bit. Samuel smiled self-deprecatingly, “I never thought about it before, but I just want to hold you tight now.” Staring into my eyes, Samuel said, “Cynthia, did I ever tell you? I don’t like Janet.” I seemed to be bewitched by his intense eyes and slowly shook my head. Samuel continued, “Aren’t you going to ask me who I like? Cynthia…” I suddenly came to my senses. “Uncle Samuel, how would I know who you like?” Samuel gently stroked my hair, his voice low. “You.”

Even long after Samuel left, I still couldn’t snap out of it and stared blankly at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. By now, I was almost certain that Samuel knew I had been reborn. The Samuel from my past life would never have been so affectionate towards me. But this time, I didn’t want to chase after Samuel anymore. In my past life, I had clung to Samuel, pestering him relentlessly. When I was in college, I often interned at Samuel’s company. It was both to see Samuel and to keep an eye on other women around him. The first time I saw Janet in Samuel’s office, I almost went crazy. I cornered Samuel in his office and tearfully demanded to know who Janet was. He just stared at me blankly and asked, “What does this have to do with you?” The tears in the corners of my eyes instantly turned into a joke, and I could still remember the feeling of humiliation I felt at that moment. I asked, “What do you mean? Samuel, don’t play dumb. I don’t believe you don’t know that I like you.” Like a madwoman, I pressed Samuel’s hand against my heart, letting him feel every beat for him. I said, “Samuel, my heart has belonged to you for a long time. You can’t treat me like this.” Samuel just pushed me away and said coldly, “I’m your uncle.” That day, I didn’t know how I stumbled out of the company in a daze. Later, news spread that Samuel and Janet were engaged, and I was the last one to find out. Looking at Janet’s Instagram, I was almost consumed by jealousy and even privately sought out Janet to threaten her. The flames of jealousy burned through my heart, blinding me to how Janet fell and how Samuel rushed her to the hospital. I could only remember the look of disgust and hatred Samuel gave me as he picked Janet up. He said, “Cynthia, you make me sick.” These words later became a recurring nightmare that haunted me in my dreams, tormenting me over and over again. I hugged myself, trying to control my trembling body. In a daze, I recalled that Samuel still couldn’t get rid of me. I became the fastest-promoted employee in his company. Even though everyone knew my relationship with Samuel, they couldn’t fault my performance. But later… Things got a bit blurry in my memory. Later, I stayed up for weeks on end and secured a big deal for the company. At the celebration party, I was almost drunk out of my mind. I took the contract and threw it at Samuel, saying, “Samuel, look! I’m not a child. I’m capable. Look at me. I’m no worse than Janet.” I stared at Samuel’s face, the man who had haunted my dreams for so many years. “Can’t you love me a little bit?” That day, everything fell apart. I bit Samuel’s lips fiercely as if trying to release all the grievances of these years. Samuel also lost control and kissed me back even more furiously, with a hint of punishment. That night, my love was shattered into pieces. But when I woke up the next day, I was happy and didn’t regret it. However, I never expected that Samuel still didn’t cancel his engagement to Janet. “Why?” I asked, my eyes filled with unwillingness. “Samuel, why?” Samuel sneered coldly and looked at me with a gaze that sent shivers down my spine. He said, “Cynthia, do you really think that I’ll marry you just because we slept together for one night? Using such despicable means only makes me loathe you even more.”

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After my daughter’s death, I accidentally discovered that Luke Harrison already had another family. The man who could barely bring himself to smile in front of our daughter was warm and affectionate toward another child—a boy. In fact, on the day my daughter was kidnapped, Luke was out shopping and playing with his son. The teacher’s calls went unanswered, and it wasn’t until days later that the police found her lifeless body. Before we divorced, I confronted Luke in tears, demanding answers. It was only then, after a long silence, that he finally spoke. “Faye,” he said, his voice low, “I’ve already lost one child. I can’t lose another.” I found out about Luke’s other child the day I picked up my daughter’s ashes from the crematorium. Driving home, I passed through a park and saw him—Luke, who was supposed to be at work. He was holding hands with a little boy, a smile on his face so unfamiliar, so alien to me, that I almost didn’t recognize him. I pulled over, watching from a distance as they walked toward a parked car. And then, Luke lifted the boy into his arms. The child laughed sweetly, calling him “Dad.” The sound snapped me out of my daze. I straightened my back, clutching the photo of my daughter in my hands. The phone on the seat beside me lit up, then dimmed again. I stared at it, my fingers hovering over the screen, my mind frozen on the number I knew by heart. I didn’t press call. Through the window, I watched them embrace—a picture-perfect pair of father and son, so ordinary it made my chest ache. A wave of frustration and bitterness rose inside me, sharp and suffocating. I tossed the phone aside and stared at my hands, memories flooding my mind. Luke had always been absent. He’d missed so many of our daughter’s birthdays, barely smiled in her presence, and rarely came home. Even the day she was taken, it was because he had forgotten to pick her up. That morning, knowing I had to leave for work, I’d reminded Luke over and over to pick up our daughter from preschool. I even sent him a message before leaving, just to be sure. But when I returned home that evening, the message was still marked unread. The teacher’s calls had gone unanswered. Our daughter had been left waiting alone, and in that moment of vulnerability, someone had taken her. I didn’t know where Luke had been that day or what he was doing. All I knew was that when I tried calling him that night, he didn’t answer. My messages went ignored. The next morning, the police called to tell me that my daughter had been found—but it was too late. In just one night, my little girl had been taken from me forever. When I rushed home, the house was empty. Luke hadn’t even come back. Desperate and seething with grief, I went to his office, screaming at him, demanding answers. He frowned, annoyed, and tried to deflect the blame. “I told you I’ve been busy with work,” he said coldly. “I didn’t have time to pick her up.” At the funeral, he seemed sad for a moment—just a moment. Then he went back to being the distant, indifferent man he’d always been. He stopped coming home altogether after that, spending more nights away than at the house. And yet, today, I had seen him playing with that little boy, his patience infinite, his smile soft and genuine. The memory of my daughter’s shy voice echoed in my mind. Just days before she was taken, she’d asked him hesitantly, “Daddy, can we have dinner together?” Luke had barely looked at her. His phone buzzed with a message, and his expression softened as he read it. “Sorry,” he said, his tone firm but distant. “Daddy’s too busy. Maybe next time.” But his “next times” had piled up, one after another, until they became never. I sat in my car, watching them until their figures disappeared around the corner. Finally, I started the engine and drove home.

That night, Luke didn’t come home. It was just like always. I didn’t call him. Instead, I drove to his office, parking outside. I waited for hours. The lights in the building eventually went out one by one. The security guard locked the doors, and the street fell into darkness. The cold night air seeped into my skin, leaving me numb. My mind was blank. I glanced at my phone. The last message from Luke was still sitting there, unread. “I’m working late tonight. Don’t wait up.” The same excuse, over and over again. I didn’t want to think about where he was or who he was with. But I couldn’t stop remembering the way my daughter used to wait for him at night, her little face lighting up every time the door opened. I couldn’t stop thinking about the cold, clinical texts he used to send, and the way his voice had sounded earlier that day when he spoke to that other child. The memories played on a loop in my mind until they blurred into one clear image: Luke, smiling as he held someone else’s child. My phone was in my hand before I even realized it. I called him. He answered after a few rings, his voice muffled by background noise. “Are you still at work?” I asked quietly, staring up at the dark office building. There was a pause, then silence. In the background, I heard it: a child’s voice, calling him “Dad.” The sound was like a knife to my chest, sharp and unforgiving. “Faye…” he began, but his voice trailed off. The empty street was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. And in that silence, memories came flooding back—memories I had tried so hard to suppress. I thought of the college years, when Luke had barely spoken to anyone, and I had foolishly chased after him, thinking I could warm his cold heart. I thought of our wedding day, when I cried tears of joy while he remained silent, distant. I’d told myself he was just reserved, that he didn’t know how to express his feelings. But now, the truth was impossible to ignore. Luke had never loved me. And he had never loved our daughter. He had been indifferent all along, taking everything for granted while I clung to my delusions. I’d turned myself into the heroine of some tragic love story, ignoring every red flag, every warning from friends. “Faye, are you still there?” His voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “How old is he?” I asked, my voice trembling. The line went silent. When Luke finally answered, his voice was low, hesitant. “Five,” he said. Five. A year younger than my daughter. My throat tightened, the cold air stinging my lungs as I struggled to breathe. I wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers. But instead, I forced myself to speak calmly, my voice steady despite the tears streaming down my face. “Come home tomorrow,” I said. “We need to finalize the divorce.” There was a long pause. “Faye—” “I’m letting you go, Luke,” I interrupted, my voice breaking. And then I hung up.

By The Time I Got Home, It Was Already Past Midnight As I opened the door, I was greeted by the sight of Luke Harrison standing in the entryway. He had clearly been home for a while. The floor around him was littered with cigarette butts, and the sharp, acrid smell of smoke clung to his clothes. Luke used to smoke a lot when he was first building his business, a way to cope with the stress. But after we had our daughter, he swore he quit. He’d even said it was for her. Occasionally, he’d do things like that—small, thoughtful actions that felt like sugar after a slap. Little gestures to make me forget how cold and distant he could be. I opened my mouth, ready to bring up the divorce, but before I could say a word, Luke did something unexpected. “Are you hungry?” he asked. From behind his back, he pulled out a box of pastries—from my favorite bakery, no less. I shook my head, but he didn’t stop. He rushed to pour me a glass of water, fussing around the kitchen like he was too busy to stop and talk. By the time he was done, I’d lost my nerve. It hit me, then, that Luke wasn’t just stalling—he was avoiding the topic entirely. And for a fleeting moment, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years: hope. Maybe he didn’t want this marriage to end after all. But then my eyes drifted to the urn containing our daughter’s ashes, sitting quietly on the table. And that flicker of hope died as quickly as it had come. “Luke,” I began, my voice steady, “I want a div—” Before I could finish, his phone rang. The sound shattered the moment, and Luke eagerly grabbed it, relief flooding his face. At first, it seemed like he just wanted an excuse to leave the room. But after hearing something on the other end, his expression shifted to genuine concern. He quickly grabbed his coat, shrugging it on in a hurry. On instinct, I reached out and grabbed his hand. For a moment, he stopped. He looked at me, guilt flickering in his eyes, before gently pulling away. “Mason’s sick,” he said, his tone full of urgency. “It’s just a fever, but I need to go check on him. I’ll be back soon.” It was the first time in years he’d offered me an explanation for his absence. But instead of softening, my heart hardened. I couldn’t stop myself. “What about when our daughter was sick?” I shouted, my voice breaking. “What were you doing then, Luke? Where were you when I was calling you?” Years of resentment, frustration, and heartbreak erupted all at once, like a volcano that had been dormant for far too long. To my surprise, he didn’t slam the door and leave. Instead, he turned back and looked at me, his expression torn, as if he were weighing something in his mind. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the silence. “Faye,” he said quietly, “I’ve already lost one child. I can’t lose another.” And with that, the door clicked shut behind him. I collapsed onto the floor, the strength draining from my body. His words echoed in my mind, ripping open old wounds that had barely begun to scab over. It was always like this. Every time I thought I was close to reaching him, to understanding him, he would pull away, leaving me further behind than before. For the first time, I began to question everything—the years we’d spent together, the love I thought we had. Had I been living a lie all along? As I sat there, numb, my hand brushed against a glass on the table. It tipped over and shattered on the floor. Instinctively, I stepped forward, barefoot, and the sharp sting of broken glass cutting into my skin jolted me back to reality. Pain has a way of clearing your mind. I didn’t pull out the divorce papers I had prepared. Instead, I picked up my phone and made a call. “Hello? I’d like to file a lawsuit against my husband—for infidelity.”

I Sat in the Living Room Until Sunrise By the time the first rays of sunlight spilled through the window onto the coffee table, I finally got up from the couch. Luke still hadn’t come home. It was impossible to count how many days it had been since I’d eaten properly. The gnawing hunger twisted my stomach, a relentless protest I could no longer ignore. I went into the kitchen, boiled some water, and pulled a bag of frozen dumplings from the freezer. The routine was automatic—dropping them into the pot, stirring, waiting—like muscle memory. When they were ready, I ate in silence, shoving the dumplings into my mouth, chewing mechanically, swallowing without tasting. The thought of following my daughter into death had crossed my mind once, but only for an instant. Because while the idea of escaping it all seemed tempting, the hatred burning inside me was stronger. The person who had taken her was still out there, free. If I gave up now, how could I ever face her again? After I washed the dishes, I did something I hadn’t done in years—I cleaned the entire house, top to bottom, every corner. When I was done, I found myself standing in front of Luke’s office door. He always locked it when he left, but today, in his rush, he’d forgotten. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The first thing I saw was the desk, scattered with photos, and a package sitting in the corner. My mind flashed back to a few days ago, when Luke had come home unexpectedly, carrying a delivery. I’d thought it was mine and reached for it, only for him to snatch it away, his movements uncharacteristically frantic. The sender’s note said it was from a photography studio. I’d assumed it was something for our daughter, maybe a surprise. Her birthday had been coming up, and I’d been pestering him to help me make a photo album for her. When I saw how nervous he looked, I didn’t think much of it. I even felt touched, convinced he was finally making an effort. I’d patted his shoulder with a smile, grateful. But now, the truth hit me like a slap to the face. The photos scattered on the desk told a story I hadn’t been ready to see. Every single one of them was of Luke and the boy. In the top photo, the boy was just a baby, and Luke was holding him awkwardly, wonder and joy written all over his face. I thought back to when our daughter was born. Luke hadn’t even made it to the hospital until hours later, long after she’d arrived. It had been just me and my parents in the delivery room. Even the doctor had commented on how absent he was, calling him an unfit father. When Luke finally showed up that night, he stood silently at the edge of the room, his expression blank, his presence cold. From the moment she was born, he had never once voluntarily held her. I always had to push her into his arms. Now, I looked through photo after photo of Luke and the boy—smiling, laughing, close. Each image felt like a twist of the knife. At first, I felt overwhelming sadness. But as I flipped through the stack, that sadness gave way to numbness. Luke had never taken a single picture with our daughter. Not one. Every time she’d begged him to take a photo with her, he’d brush her off, awkwardly changing the subject. But in these photos, he looked so different. His initial awkwardness gave way to pure joy, his face lighting up with pride as the years passed. There were so many pictures—an entire stack documenting his life with the boy. They weren’t just photos. They were evidence. Proof of the life he’d been living behind my back. In that moment, I realized how blind I’d been. Luke’s betrayal hadn’t been subtle. He wasn’t even good at hiding it. I’d just been too willing to believe him, too desperate to ignore the cracks in our marriage. But once I let myself see the truth, it was everywhere—undeniable and damning. I gathered the photos and the package, clutching them tightly as I left the room. The evidence had always been there. I’d just refused to look. And now, finally, I couldn’t look away.

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The night my son had a high fever, I overheard Jack flirting with his secretary, Scarlett, in Spanish on the phone. Jack’s lips curved into a smirk as he said, “Emma’s had a kid. She’s not as tight as you are. Don’t worry, she’s busy taking care of Tommy’s fever. She won’t notice I’m gone.” Scarlett’s coquettish voice came through the speakerphone, “Where should I wait for you, Mr. Harrison?” Jack glanced at me, “The usual hotel. I’ll make sure you’re satisfied tonight.” I held my son close, my fingers trembling with heartache. Jack didn’t know that I had minored in Spanish in college. I understood every word he said to his secretary tonight. Jack put on his coat, turning to leave. I stroked Tommy’s feverish little face, looking at Jack anxiously, “Jack, could you please take Tommy and me to the hospital first?” Jack frowned, “There’s an urgent matter at the company. I can’t delay.” Urgent matter? Urgent to have an affair with Scarlett in bed? I held back my anger, “Tommy’s fever is so high. He could have a seizure at any moment. What urgent matter could be more important than our son’s life?” Before I could finish, he had already slammed the door shut. Looking at my son who had fallen unconscious from the fever, I hesitated for a moment before calling Jack’s brother, “Daniel, Tommy has a high fever that won’t break. Jack said he has an urgent matter at the company tonight. Could you take us to the hospital?” A steady male voice came from the other end of the line, “Of course, I’ll be right there.” I hung up the phone, tears welling in my eyes. I was once the daughter of a wealthy family in New York, growing up alongside the two brothers of the city’s wealthiest family. Both brothers had deep feelings for me. Jack was lively and outgoing, while Daniel was calm and reserved. In my youth, I was captivated by Jack’s sweet talk and went on a private island vacation with him. I often wonder now, if I hadn’t drunk that spiked wine he gave me, would my life be completely different from what it is now? In less than twenty minutes, Daniel arrived. The headlights of his Bentley cut through the thick darkness of the night. He drove steadily, and I could smell the familiar scent of his cologne, a fragrance both silent and domineering. When Tommy’s fever finally broke after receiving IV fluids in a private hospital room, I felt relieved at last. I went out to the corridor and gratefully looked at Daniel, “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.” He replied softly, “It’s my duty to take care of my nephew. I’ve sent a message to my brother. He’ll be here soon to take you both home.” Under the dim light, his cold, handsome features softened with a touch of tenderness. Suddenly, my eyes welled up with tears. “Why are you crying?” Daniel raised his hand to wipe away the tears on my face, but then, as if realizing something, he quickly withdrew his hand. I shook my head, covering my face. Suddenly, a cold laugh came from behind us. Jack strode towards us, “Emma, Tommy’s fever has broken. Instead of taking our son home to rest, you’re here getting cozy with my brother in the hallway. Hm? What’s this about? Tired of the younger brother and want to play with the older one now?” My face turned pale. Daniel frowned deeply, “Jack, what nonsense are you talking about? Tommy was burning up so badly he passed out. Instead of taking your son to the hospital first, you rushed off to the company. What could possibly be more important than your child?” Scarlett, following behind Jack, her face still flushed with passion, chimed in, “Mr. Harrison recently closed a big deal with Spanish clients. He’s been busy with the contract signing these past few days. Isn’t Mr. Harrison working hard to provide a better life for Tommy and you, Emma?” No one responded to her. Jack pulled me into his arms, looking at Daniel provocatively, “Brother, thank you for tonight. I’m taking my wife and son home now. In the future, unless it’s absolutely necessary, you shouldn’t meet Emma alone. You understand the concept of avoiding suspicion, don’t you?” I struggled out of his grip, my eyes red, “Jack, the doctor said if we had brought Tommy in any later, the fever could have damaged his brain. Can you stop throwing dirt on your brother and me?” Scarlett blinked and giggled. Jack suddenly glared at her, “What are you laughing at? Go home now. Don’t be late for work tomorrow morning, or I’ll dock your attendance bonus.” Scarlett smiled seductively, “Yes, yes, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Mr. Harrison.” As she brushed past me, I caught a whiff of her strong rose perfume. My face immediately changed.

When I was two months pregnant, I had smelled this same scent on Jack’s shirt. Perhaps it was a woman’s keen sixth sense, but even then, I felt that Jack might be having an affair. But Jack was extremely attentive to me at that time. He always informed me about his business dinners, never stayed out all night, and frequently gave me expensive gifts. During his vacations, he would turn off his phone to spend time with me wholeheartedly. He even hired a specialist to give prenatal education classes for our baby. So apart from that perfume, I couldn’t find any evidence of Jack’s infidelity. Looking back now, Jack had mastered the art of “counter-surveillance,” keeping everything perfectly hidden. If it weren’t for overhearing him flirting with Scarlett in Spanish tonight, I might have continued to be deceived, constantly reflecting on what I had done wrong, wondering if my postpartum recovery wasn’t good enough, unable to give him ultimate pleasure at night, causing his mood swings! After returning home, I looked at Tommy’s adorable sleeping face, tears streaming down uncontrollably. Tommy is only three years old this year. I don’t want him to grow up in a broken family at such a young age, nor do I want his childhood to lack a father’s companionship. I’m really afraid that when he grows up, he might say something like, “I don’t need a lot of money, I just want a lot of love.” In wealthy families, pearls and gold may be plentiful, but love and companionship are especially precious. So even though I knew Jack had betrayed me and was having an affair with his young and beautiful secretary Scarlett, I didn’t bring up divorce. But I never expected that my forbearance wouldn’t awaken Jack’s conscience. Instead, it invited Scarlett’s provocation. On Sunday night, Jack actually had Scarlett move into our villa. This was our marital home, where he once stood at the front door, smiling and vowing to love only me for the rest of his life. But now, for another woman, he had forgotten all those vows. As he helped Scarlett carry her suitcase into the guest room, he said to our housekeeper, “Mrs. Johnson, please make some Sichuan dishes tonight. My secretary loves spicy food.” I stood on the second floor, coldly watching them, “Tommy just recovered from his illness. He can’t eat spicy food.” Jack’s eyes flashed with guilt, “Oh right, my son was sick recently. Mrs. Johnson, could you also make some seafood porridge?” Perhaps he knew this situation was inappropriate. That night, he came to my bedroom to explain, “Emma, listen to me. The reason I let Scarlett stay at our house is because this Spanish business is urgent. It’s not unprecedented for a personal secretary to temporarily stay at the CEO’s home. Please understand, this is all for work.” I smiled faintly, “Mm, I understand. Work is important.” Seeing that I wasn’t arguing or making a fuss, Jack kissed my forehead with satisfaction, “Emma, you’re so good. Once I’m done with this busy period, I’ll take you and Tommy to Lake Tahoe for a few days.” I watched his back as he left, then took out a tissue to wipe the spot he had kissed. The kiss of an unfaithful person is truly dirty.

Early the next morning, Scarlett was busy in the kitchen, wearing a tight-fitting nightgown that accentuated her slim waist and shapely buttocks. Moments later, she brought milk and sandwiches to the dining table. Jack’s eyes kept lingering on Scarlett. He took a bite of the sandwich, “This is really good. The cheese is melted perfectly.” I looked at the sandwich, feeling no appetite at all. “Tommy, try Aunt Scarlett’s cooking. Is it good?” Scarlett smiled, pointing at the sandwich in front of Tommy. Before I could stop him, Tommy had already grabbed the sandwich and taken a big bite. Suddenly, he started coughing violently, his cheeks turning bright red. “Baby, what’s wrong!” I panicked, picking Tommy up and patting his back to help him breathe. His coughing got worse. I grabbed the sandwich he had eaten and looked at it, only to find it was spread with a large amount of peanut butter! I couldn’t help but scream, “Call 911 quick! Tommy is allergic to peanuts! He can’t eat anything with peanuts in it! He’ll have an anaphylactic reaction!” Standing in front of the emergency room, Jack’s face was grim. Scarlett’s face was pale, her eyes red. She said softly, “Emma, I… I really didn’t know Tommy was allergic to peanuts.” I sighed, “From now on, let’s leave the cooking to Mrs. Johnson.” Scarlett’s tears fell, “It’s all my fault. Emma must be angry with me. Mr. Harrison, I should move back to my apartment.” Jack frowned, “Move back? What for? This wasn’t intentional. You didn’t mean to harm Tommy. Just stay here.” I stared at him in disbelief. Two weeks after the sandwich incident, Jack suddenly called me into his study. Scarlett was there, wiping her tears pitifully. Jack looked at me unhappily, “Emma, can you stop making things difficult for Scarlett?” I laughed bitterly, “When did I ever make things difficult for her?” Jack tapped the desk, “You and Mrs. Smith cleaned the guest room where Scarlett is staying, right?” I nodded. His eyes were full of anger, “The window in Scarlett’s room won’t close properly, and the draft is giving her headaches. She likes spicy food, but when I’m not home, you always have Mrs. Johnson make such bland dishes. She’s not used to it and has lost weight. And can you stop letting Tommy bother her all the time? We don’t want another incident like last time where he ends up in the emergency room!” The truth was, Scarlett had specifically requested a well-ventilated room. The truth was, I had asked Mrs. Johnson to prepare two different flavors for each meal. The truth was, Scarlett often wanted to play with Tommy, and I was afraid she might unintentionally harm him, so I kept Tommy away from her. Now she had turned everything around and blamed me! I silently looked at Jack, not defending myself at all. After all, no matter what “grievances” Scarlett suffered, Jack was willing to stand up for her. No matter what mistakes she made, Jack was happy to find excuses and cover for her. My expression darkened. Suddenly, Scarlett looked at me timidly, “Emma, I’d like to speak with you alone.” The study door was closed, and Scarlett sat on the desk, her eyes seductive, “Emma, let’s be frank. I’m pregnant with Jack’s child.” My expression remained calm, “What do you want?” Scarlett smiled charmingly, “I want the position of the mistress of the house. I hope my child will be an only child, with no one to compete for the family fortune. I want Jack to stop hiding me under the guise of a secretary. Emma, are you willing to give him to me?” So everything had been her machination behind the scenes. For this wealth and status, she had repeatedly distorted facts, played mind games, pretended to be pitiful, and even tried to harm my son with peanut butter. Looking at her confident smile, I felt both ironic and pitiful. Men love the feeling of “stealing”. Having an affair with a mistress under the pressure of the original wife is an intense stimulation for men. If the original wife lets go, the man will quickly lose interest. By then, even a passionate rose-like mistress will become a boring mosquito bite. That night, I prepared two copies of divorce papers, slipping one into the documents Jack was to sign the next day. Early the next morning, I took Tommy on a flight back to my parents’ home in New York. As I left, I smiled at Jack and Scarlett. By the time he discovers the signed divorce papers, I should have already arrived at the New York airport.

“Emma? Why didn’t you tell me you and Tommy were coming back? I could have asked our housekeeper to prepare a table of your favorite dishes,” my mother said with a surprised look as she saw Tommy and me. Our housekeeper, Mrs. Wilson, took Tommy back to the bedroom. I sat down next to my mother, tears suddenly streaming down my face, “Mom, I’m divorcing Jack.” My mother’s expression changed slightly, “He wronged you, didn’t he? Your father and I never approved of Jack. When you insisted on going on that island vacation with him alone, I tried to persuade you for so long, but you wouldn’t listen. You even snuck out with fake IDs. Sigh, we wanted you to marry his brother Daniel back then, but then Tommy came along…” I sniffled and interrupted her, “If it weren’t for Tommy, I would have cut ties with him long ago.” My mother sighed, lovingly patting my head. “He and his secretary…” I choked up, unable to continue. “Emma, men who crave novelty never end up well,” my mother said with a cold smile. At 10 PM, I lay in my childhood bedroom, lost in thought. In our teenage years, Jack was always the one with witty words to make people laugh, while Daniel was like a gentle and silent shadow. I was too young then, always captivated by Jack’s grand promises and sweet talk, forgetting to pay attention to the one who consistently took action. I remember one snowy night in New York when I was playing chess with the two brothers at their house until late. Jack looked at the dancing snowflakes outside the window and yawned, “It’s snowing heavily today, so cold outside — Emma, since our houses are close, could you just wrap your scarf tightly and go home by yourself?” Before I could respond, Daniel silently stood up, put on his coat, ready to brave the snow to send me home. Under the dim streetlight shrouded by wind and snow, Daniel stood there looking at me, his eyes full of endless cherishment and tenderness. My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively avoided Daniel’s gaze, rushing towards the gate of my family’s house in a few quick steps. I also recalled the incident during the island vacation with Jack. Unknowingly, I drank the glass of spiked wine Jack handed me, falling drunk into his arms, leading to a night of passion. Afterwards, he apologized pitifully, “Emma, I love you so much that I resorted to this. I just wanted to make you mine before anyone else could. I know my brother has feelings for you too, and I was so afraid he would steal you away.” When the doctor diagnosed me as one month pregnant, Jack caressed my belly with a joyful expression, “That night’s effort wasn’t in vain after all. Now that you’re carrying my child, I can rightfully marry you.” I lowered my gaze, hesitating for a long time before deciding not to tell him about my application to study oil painting abroad. The next day, I quietly canceled that application. After all, at that time, the aunts and sisters around me were all women who sacrificed themselves for love and family. I thought my sacrifice was also necessary. Later, when I married Jack while carrying our one-month-old child, everyone was smiling and applauding in congratulations. Only Daniel stood in the crowd, his expression solemn as he gazed at me from afar. After that, Daniel never got involved with any other woman. He immersed himself in his archaeology career, using his skilled hands to restore many precious and rare artifacts. I took a deep breath and covered my face with my hands. Perhaps, I had loved the wrong person from the very beginning? When I woke up again, I found that Jack had called me twenty-six times. What was he in such a hurry for? I rubbed my temples and called him back, “Hmm?” Jack quickly picked up the phone, his voice hoarse, “Emma, you want to divorce me?!”

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On the day of our divorce, my wife and I were in the same car when we met with an accident. In her final moments, she didn’t whisper my name. Instead, she expressed regret. “If I could do it all over again, I’d choose Ryan Curtis. With him, I felt truly alive…” When we opened our eyes again, we had both been reborn. We found ourselves back on the day I had proposed to her. She glanced at me, quickly pulled her hand away, and ran towards Ryan Curtis. I silently let her go, wanting her to be happy. But later, she came back, begging me for another chance. The moment I was reborn, I found myself back on that Valentine’s Day when I had planned to propose to Emma White. The campus lawn was a sea of flowers, the lights were dazzling, everything was set up like a dream. I looked around, searching for that familiar figure—Emma White. I watched as her eyes gradually changed from confusion to clarity, and then to realization. I knew then that she had been reborn too, with memories of our past life. Including the car accident that took our lives, and her last words to me, “If I could do it all over again…” She glanced at me, her eyes cold as they swept over my face. With a fake smile, she said, “Jack, thank you for everything you’ve prepared, but…” Her gaze fixed on someone in the crowd. I followed her line of sight. There stood Ryan Curtis, dressed in a crisp black suit, his tie perfectly knotted, holding a bouquet of vibrant roses that seemed even more dazzling under the lights. He stood there, as if waiting for an important moment. Although I had a premonition, facing it in reality still felt like a stab to the heart. “Emma…” I called out softly. Just then, Emma did something I never expected. She pulled her hand away from mine and walked towards Ryan without hesitation. At that moment, I felt as if I could hear my own heart breaking, but I also clearly saw the urgency on her face. “Jack, I’m sorry,” Emma’s voice came, cold and determined. “I… I’ve realized that Ryan is the one I truly love. I hope you can understand and let me go.” She held Ryan’s hand tightly. Ryan was stunned at first, then his face lit up with joy. He hugged Emma tightly, “Emma, you’ve finally faced your true feelings. I’ve been waiting for you for so long.”

At that moment, I stood in the center of the proposal scene, surrounded by whispers. Emma’s voice was clear and firm. The look in her eyes as she gazed at Ryan was full of tenderness and expectation, a light that once belonged to me. I took a deep breath, “Emma, I respect your decision. From now on, let’s go our separate ways and wish each other well.” As I said these words, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief, as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Ryan smiled smugly, putting his arm around Emma’s shoulders as if declaring his victory to the world. “Emma, I’ll make you happy. In the future, I want to see you cheering for me at every concert; and all those romantic trips, I want to experience them with you.” Emma smiled like a little girl, her eyes sparkling with happiness, “Ryan, as long as I’m with you, I’m willing to do anything.” I turned and left without looking back. The lights in the bar were dim and warm. I had invited my roommates to join me there. “Jack, are you okay?” My roommate Andy patted me on the shoulder, asking with concern. I raised my glass, drained it in one go, and laughed, “I’m fine, really. Don’t look at me like that, I’m actually happy. I finally don’t have to comfort Emma every day.” My roommates exchanged glances, seemingly not quite believing my words. But I knew it was true. Leaving Emma was a relief for me. Thinking back to our past life, Emma and I had been inseparable since childhood. Our parents always joked that we were a match made in heaven, and they had even planned our future for us. We did dream about it too, dating after graduation and then walking down the aisle. “Jack, what do you think our future home will be like?” Back then, her eyes were full of hope for the future. “No matter what it’s like, as long as you’re there, it’s home,” I answered with a smile, fully believing that would be our forever. But what about after marriage? Days passed like flowing water, so bland it was unsettling. She started complaining, saying life lacked color. And I, busy with my career, ignored her changes. Until Ryan Curtis became famous, he shone brightly on stage, easily stealing her heart. She started coming home late, sometimes not coming home at all. When I questioned her, she casually said, “Jack, let’s just do our own thing, that way everyone’s happy.” My heart felt like it was being pricked by needles. “Emma, we have a home,” I tried to salvage things, but she wasn’t listening anymore. “No, we’re just doing our own thing, you don’t need to interfere with my freedom,” she coldly replied. Finally, I proposed divorce, the hardest decision I’ve ever made in my life. She was surprised at first, then angry, but finally she laughed, a laugh so sarcastic. “Jack Miller, do you know? Every day with Ryan is happier than all the happiness in the first half of my life combined.” At that moment, I completely gave up. It turned out that our marriage, to her, was nothing but a constraint. And I finally understood that letting go was the greatest salvation for myself.

The bar lights were hazy and dim, alcohol slowly flowing through my veins, bringing waves of dizziness. I stood up, intending to go to the bathroom to sober up, but my feet unconsciously drifted towards the deep end of the corridor. Just then, from the crack of a not-quite-closed private room door, came a familiar yet strange voice. “That Jack Miller guy is so boring, all he knows is work, he has no zest for life at all.” It was Emma’s voice, filled with disdain and disgust. “You understand me, Emma. Compared to him, I’m the one who can truly make you happy.” Ryan’s voice was full of pride. My heart suddenly tightened, and my footsteps involuntarily stopped. How could they be here? And how could they talk about me so recklessly? Out of curiosity, I gently pushed open the half-open door, only to see the room filled with smoke, a group of people sitting around the table, with Emma and Ryan at the center, both wearing ambiguous smiles. Seeing me, the atmosphere in the room instantly froze, all eyes focused on me. Emma’s face turned ugly, she stood up and questioned, “Jack Miller, what are you doing here? Didn’t we break up already? Why are you still here to disturb us?” Seeing this, Ryan’s lips curled into a provocative smile, he stood up, trying to assert his dominance with a kiss. I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm, “I was just passing by, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Besides, I’ve already said, from now on, we go our separate ways.” With that, I turned to leave without lingering. Just then, a figure suddenly crashed into my arms. It was Lily Greene, the daughter of the Greene family from the north side of town, someone I never thought I’d meet here. She was wearing a red spaghetti strap dress, her skin looking even fairer under the bar lights, her eyes hazy with a hint of drunkenness. She looked up at me, a half-smile playing on her lips, “Jack Miller? Did you really break up with Emma White?” I nodded, not saying much. Lily didn’t seem to mind my coldness. She leaned in closer to me and said in a low voice, “Actually, I’ve always liked you. It’s just that you were with Emma before, so I didn’t dare say anything.” I was shocked, but quickly regained my composure. Now, I no longer had the mood to consider these emotional entanglements. I gently pushed her away, saying coolly, “Lily, thank you for your kindness, but right now I just want to be alone.” However, just as I turned to leave, Lily suddenly lost her balance and fell forward. I quickly reached out to steady her, but it was too late. She collapsed onto me, followed by the sound of urgent vomiting. I sighed helplessly, having to temporarily abandon my thoughts of leaving. After thinking for a moment, I realized it wouldn’t be right to leave a girl alone in the bar. I called a driver to take us to a hotel, got a room for Lily, and was about to leave. “Jack, don’t go,” her voice was unclear, but I could hear she was calling me. I looked at her small face, flushed from alcohol, and suddenly felt a strange emotion welling up inside me. I knew her confession now was just an impulse under the influence of alcohol. I should stay calm and not let myself get caught up in it. But when I saw those hazy eyes, that look of closeness and dependence, my heart involuntarily softened. As she tugged at me, I sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at her, my heart full of conflicting emotions. “Jack, I like you,” she mumbled again, then grabbed my hand and placed it on her face. “Don’t go, stay with me, please?” At that moment, I really couldn’t resist her innocent yet slightly coquettish tone.

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My husband’s mistress deliberately burned my daughter to death. Fearing I’d make trouble, he sent me to a mental hospital. On Christmas Eve, Antonio Carlson’s secretary’s daughter, Miria Carlson, set off fireworks and intentionally burned my daughter, Amy Carlson, to death. I tried to call the police, but he smashed my phone. Then he scolded me, “Julia didn’t do it on purpose, why pick on a child?” Afraid I would cause trouble for Evelyn and Julia; Antonio forcefully sent me to the mental hospital. Later, when Julia fell seriously ill and was hospitalized, Antonio worried so much that he turned gray overnight. With no other choice, he finally let me out. “Amy is dead, don’t keep dwelling on the past. “You’re good at medicine, I trust your skill.” I didn’t speak, but a trace of hatred flickered in my eyes. His mistake was thinking he could reason with a mentally ill person. I didn’t like Julia. At such a young age, she lied all the time, was hypocritical and jealous, and often bullied Amy behind my back. Whenever I complained to Antonio, he would always lecture me in return. “You’re too shallow. You look down on Julia because she’s from a single-parent family. “Her mother may be my secretary, but everyone is equal. No one is more important than anyone else, so stop bullying her.” I was furious and frustrated, feeling helpless. Every time Julia bullied Amy, she would always be the first to play the victim. Before Amy even cried, Julia and Evelyn were already acting like they were wronged. This made Antonio feel so sorry for them. He’d even give anything to Evelyn and Julia. Even though Antonio believed Julia was innocent, I still tried to keep Amy away from her. But on Christmas Eve, when I came back from my shift at the hospital, Amy had an accident. Holding Amy’s burnt, disfigured body, I wanted to rip Julia apart. “Miria, Antonio, it wasn’t me. “I warned Amy about playing with fire, but she didn’t listen and even pushed me.” Julia hid behind Evelyn, looking innocent, showing us a scratch on her hand. Her tearful eyes almost broke Antonio’s heart. “Mrs. Carlson, Amy was your precious child, but Julia is my treasure too. “She has no father, she’s naturally timid, and she couldn’t have intentionally set fire to kill.” Evelyn kept Amy hidden behind her. Her shoulders trembled slightly, making it hard not to feel sorry for her. Something in her words must’ve been triggered, Antonio. He immediately grabbed the first-aid kit to treat Julia’s injury. And without missing a beat, he scolded me. “Don’t make baseless accusations. Didn’t you see that Julia was scared by you?” I slammed on the table in anger. I pulled up the footage from the security camera at the door. To prevent Julia from doing something like this again, I had secretly installed a tiny camera outside a few days ago. The footage showed Julia’s actions clearly. Antonio froze. Julia panicked, pinching her own thigh, tears streaming down her face. “It’s not my fault. Amy said her clothes looked better than mine and even called me a kid with no dad. I just wanted to burn her clothes, I never meant to kill her.” “Poor child, I believe you.” Antonio softened his expression, quickly picking her up and comforting her. But when Julia noticed Evelyn’s subtle glance, she understood and pushed him away. She smiled, pretending to be obedient and understanding. “Antonio, I won’t blame Miria. She’s only so heartbroken because of Amy’s death. “Miria, don’t be sad.” Suddenly, Julia turned and jogged over to hug me. A strange smile appeared on her youthful face as she whispered in my ear. “Too bad your surveillance can’t pick up sound. Amy cried so pitifully when she died. From now on, I’m going to take Amy’s place as Antonio’s daughter and enjoy everything she had, including the shares Antonio left for her.” “You wish! “I’ll call the police and have you arrested for your dirty tricks, brat!” Furious, I pushed her away and slapped her hard. “Julia!” Evelyn, holding Julia, screamed in agony. Her eyes burned with resentment as she glared at me. “Mrs. Carlson, I know you look down on us. You blame everything on Julia whenever something happens, but she’s still just a child. You can’t bully her just because we have no one to rely on. “Since Amy’s death, Julia has been feeling guilty and terrified. Didn’t you see how scared she was? Her heart disease almost came back.” I glanced coldly at Julia’s pale face. I sneered and took out my phone to call the police. The next second, Antonio knocked the phone from my hand. He looked at Julia with deep concern. His expression turned dark as he looked at me. “Enough. Amy is already dead. Holding Julia accountable, what’s the point? Will it bring her back? “Besides, Julia didn’t mean to do this. Let it go, show some mercy.”

“She did not mean it? So, Amy deserved to die? “Antonio, Amy was burned to death by her. How could you say such heartless words?” I had never hated him more than at that moment. Ignoring his objections, I picked up the phone and called the police. When the police arrived, I knew it wouldn’t matter. The officer in charge was one of Antonio’s friends. They didn’t give me a chance to speak. After a brief conversation with Antonio, the police left. I completely lost control and began punching and kicking him in frustration. “How could you? Amy is dead, and you’re protecting the real culprit. Amy is watching from heaven; how can you live with peace?” Antonio, knowing he was in the wrong, let me vent my anger. When I finally exhausted myself, he patted me on the shoulder and tried to comfort me. “The mortuary van is here. You should handle Amy’s funeral. Julia’s frightened, so I’ll take her to the hospital for a check-up.” He didn’t hesitate for a second. He walked past Amy’s body, holding Julia, stopping only briefly before walking away with long strides. I stared at his retreating figure in disbelief. Julia and Evelyn turned back to smirk at me. I gritted my teeth in hatred, wanting nothing more than to rush over and take them down with me. But right now, I had to make sure Amy was laid to rest properly. As for the rest, I would deal with them later! By the third day, Amy’s body was about to be cremated. Antonio hadn’t shown up at all, nor did he even call. I held back my anger and called him. “Sorry, babe, Julia’s heart condition is worsening, and Evelyn can’t handle it alone. You’ll have to take care of Amy’s arrangements on your own.” I hung up the phone immediately. I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. After burying Amy’s ashes, I came home. I noticed Amy’s room had been rummaged through. My anger flared up, and I stormed into the living room, grabbing Julia and demanding loudly, “Did you go into Amy’s room? Did you take her necklace?” As I spoke, I noticed the gemstone bracelet on her wrist. A bad feeling immediately crept into my chest. “Miria, you scared me! Antonio, help!” Julia panicked and tried to cover the bracelet. But my grip on her wrist was firm, and all she could do was helplessly scream. Antonio and Evelyn rushed out of the study, still looking a bit disheveled. When they saw my dark expression, Antonio quickly pulled Julia behind him and started shouting at me. “Miria Carlson, that’s enough! You haven’t even figured out what’s going on, and you’re acting like a madwoman, accusing her. “Amy’s room isn’t even being used. What’s the big deal if Julia went in and played with some things? “You scared her! The fortune-teller said that would harm Amy’s luck, so I had a bracelet made for Julia using Amy’s necklace. It’s for Amy’s own good, to help her gather good fortune for her next life.” Antonio spoke as though it was the most reasonable thing in the world as if I was the one being unreasonable. “That’s nonsense! No one can take Amy’s things!” I snapped. I let my emotions take over, yanking the bracelet off Julia’s wrist in a frenzy. Her wrist turned bright red from my grip. “It hurts, Miria, please stop hitting me!” Julia’s acting was nowhere near as convincing as Evelyn’s. She cried and screamed for a long time, but no tears came. Evelyn, on the other hand, was much more skilled. In front of Antonio, she threw herself against the wall. “I can’t live like this. Mrs. Carlson, if you want someone to pay for Amy’s death, take my life instead.” “Evelyn, don’t do this!” Antonio’s eyes widened in shock. His face turned pale, and he rushed over to hold her. The house was filled with wailing, and all I could feel was my anger burning hotter. “Stop pretending! If you’re going to die, just do it already!” I grabbed a vase, ready to smash it at them. Evelyn and Julia huddled together, clearly terrified. Antonio was quicker than me. He snatched the vase from my hands and swung a wooden chair at my head. “You are crazy!” The last thing I saw before losing consciousness was Antonio’s furious face, his teeth gritted as he cursed at me. When I woke up, I found myself strapped to a bed in a psychiatric hospital. The gemstone bracelet was gone. He looked down at me, sighing in helpless resignation. “The only way to ensure Evelyn and Julia’s safety is to lock you up here. Don’t blame me.” I didn’t look at him again until his figure disappeared through the door. I smirked inwardly. I knew he would come back to beg me to get out.

During my time in the psychiatric hospital, I obediently followed all the rules. But secretly, I would spit out my medication. Not only did I avoid suffering, but I also ended up with some unexpected gains. Finally, by the second month, Antonio came. It had been a while since we last saw each other. His hair had turned completely gray, and his face was lined with fine wrinkles and exhaustion. For the first time, he lowered his usual proud stance in front of me, his voice carrying a tone of pleading. “Miria, Julia’s heart disease has worsened. The doctor says she needs open-heart surgery. The risks are extremely high, but you’re the only one who can perform it. “Saving her will bring good fortune. Please, let go of any personal grudges and think of it as helping Amy accumulate some blessings for her next life.” I stayed silent for a long time. Just as Antonio thought I wouldn’t agree and was about to try again, the nurse came in with the medication. This was the moment I had been waiting for. I immediately started trembling, pretending to be terrified and hid behind Antonio. “I agree. Please, tell them to leave. I don’t want to take the medication.” Antonio’s eyes flickered, and a satisfied smile spread across his face. He had no suspicions about me. That same day, he arranged for my discharge. When I got back home, Amy’s room had been redecorated. Everything in it was Julia’s. I suppressed the hatred in my heart, hesitating before speaking. “But I have a psychiatric record. I can’t do the operation right now.” “That’s easy. I’ll have someone get you a new ID. You can use that to operate on Julia. “Just send your personal details to this person, and they’ll handle it.” Seeing that I wasn’t causing a scene, Antonio confidently sent me the contact information for the person who would help me get the new ID. He didn’t know that this would become the biggest regret of his life. In the days leading up to the surgery, I noticed that Antonio had started openly appearing with Evelyn at work. Everyone could see it clearly now. Evelyn had already taken on the role of the company’s lady boss. She used to act like she didn’t, but now, she didn’t bother pretending anymore. Right in front of me, she whispered in Antonio’s ear. “Antonio, I’m still worried. Miria wants Julia dead. Do you really think she will do that for her?” Antonio looked at me thoughtfully when he heard this. On the day of the surgery, not only did he put on his surgical scrubs to watch the procedure, but he also hired several experts to supervise me. Their concerns weren’t unfounded. After all, I hated Julia and wouldn’t think twice about letting her die. But with my psychiatric record, I wasn’t afraid of anything, even if it went all the way to the police. So, I secretly hid a scalpel in my sleeve. When the surgery reached its most critical point, I stabbed Julia’s still-beating heart with all my might… Antonio and the experts froze in shock at my sudden move. But I only made a feint, then continued with the surgery as if nothing had happened. The surgery went smoothly after that. Antonio let out a sigh of relief and smiled at me gratefully. But when it came time to stitch up the wound, Julia died from a heart rupture. “Miria, you must have held a grudge and deliberately killed Julia! I’m calling the police!” As soon as we left the operating room, Evelyn lunged at me with a fierce expression. I quickly grabbed her, pointed to Antonio behind me, and smiled coldly. “It wasn’t me. If you don’t believe me, you can ask him. “I may have wanted Julia dead, but I never had the chance to actually do it, right?” Antonio held Julia’s lifeless body, tears falling from his eyes. He stared at me with a complicated look for a long time, but in the end, he called the police himself. The police set up a special investigation team. Although they found the scalpel in my sleeve, it had no blood on it. And Julia’s autopsy confirmed that the heart rupture wasn’t caused by the scalpel. In the end, I was released without charge. The moment I left the police station, I went straight to the crematorium. Evelyn was sitting alone on a stone bench. Her delicate makeup couldn’t hide the sorrow on her face. I slowly walked over to her and smiled. “Do you know that when Amy died, the anesthesia had just worn off? She even frowned before her heart ruptured. Tell me, how much pain do you think she was in?” “Is it really you?” Evelyn snapped back to reality, her eyes filled with rage and hatred as if they could pierce me. At the same time, Antonio rushed over in a panic. “Something’s wrong. Julia’s body is missing.” When he saw me, he froze for a moment. Then, he grabbed my throat, squeezing tightly. “Miria, it was you, wasn’t it?” “No, it wasn’t me.” I struggled to break free from his grip. Taking deep breaths, I smiled provocatively. “It wasn’t me, but if you don’t look for her, you won’t be able to keep her body anymore.” “What?” At my words, their faces went pale, their eyes widening in fear. Free Point

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## Ever since my wife took over as CEO of the company, she’s been parading around like a boss babe straight out of a Netflix drama. I went along with everything she wanted. She said every boss lady needs a supportive husband, so I quit my job to be a stay-at-home partner. I agreed. She said every CEO needs a right-hand assistant, so she hired her male best friend as her personal secretary. I didn’t object. But then, she decided to take her “boss lady” persona to the next level, playing out those ridiculous tropes from TV dramas—flirting with her male secretary like it was some kind of game. At her birthday party, she even kissed him passionately in front of all her friends. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, she capped the night with a “loyalty test,” making me catch her cigarette ashes with my bare hands. When I refused to let her sell off company assets for her boy toy’s approval, she called me a leech—living off her success. What she forgot, though, is that the company she’s so proud of? It’s mine. And being CEO? I can do that too.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” At the birthday party I planned for her, my wife, Elena, drew the card for “Truth or Dare.” Her friends immediately started chanting, demanding she French kiss her male secretary. I, her actual husband, was obviously not okay with this. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop messing around,” I said firmly, trying to keep my tone calm. Her secretary, Liam, wore his usual innocent, harmless expression, but his words were sharp enough to cut. “Aw, come on, Ben. Don’t be such a buzzkill. It’s just a game!” “If you’re such a good sport, why don’t you kiss someone else instead? Maybe her!” I snapped, pointing at a muscular girl with acne who’d been sitting quietly in the corner. The air grew tense. The awkward silence was palpable. Sensing the shift, Liam leaned in and whispered to Elena, “Elena, maybe we should drop it. I don’t want to come between you two.” The moment he said that, my stomach dropped. Ever since she became CEO, Elena couldn’t stand being told she was too soft or easily influenced. Sure enough, in the next moment, she grabbed Liam by the collar and pulled him into a full-on French kiss. For five excruciating minutes. “Woo-hoo!” Her friends cheered, circling them with their phones out, snapping pictures and posting videos to social media. “Look at them! A power couple—beauty and brains!” They didn’t even give me a chance to step in. When Elena and Liam finally pulled apart, their faces were flushed, their lips red and swollen. A string of saliva glistened between them. I shouldered my way through the crowd, grabbed Elena’s arm, and yanked her away. “I told you not to do it! Do you even care about what this looks like for me? What am I to you?” My voice cracked, and I could feel my hands trembling. “Oh, come on, babe. It’s just a silly party game. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” Elena said dismissively, her tone dripping with condescension. “I’m the CEO. If I listen to my ‘little husband’ all the time, where’s my authority?” She patted my cheek, trying to placate me like I was some sulking child. Then, she went right back to Liam, her face lighting up as they huddled together to play another round of games. I wanted to scream. But in front of all her friends, I swallowed my pride and stayed silent. Someone called out, “Elena, we’ve all heard how good you are at keeping your husband in line. Show us a demonstration!” “Yeah, let’s see the famous ‘CEO husband-management skills!’” I desperately tried to signal to her with my eyes, begging her to stop, but she was way too drunk to notice—or care. “Not to brag,” Elena slurred, “but my Ben always does exactly what I say. If I tell him to go east, he wouldn’t dare go west.” She turned to me, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Ben, kneel down and be Liam’s ashtray!” The room erupted in laughter. “Elena,” I whispered, mortified. “Please, don’t do this.” “Come on, babe. You’re not going to embarrass me in front of everyone, are you?” Her pleading eyes were my undoing. I could never say no to her, no matter how cruel she was. So, I knelt. Liam flicked his ashes into my hands, and everyone howled with delight. But Elena wasn’t done. She swirled wine in her mouth, then leaned down and spit it directly into mine. “Drink it, babe,” she commanded. The crowd roared with laughter, some filming, others clapping drunkenly. I swallowed my humiliation along with the wine. After the party, an old friend pulled me aside. “Ben, what happened to you? You used to have some self-respect. Why do you let her treat you like this?” I smiled bitterly. “Because she promised me she only loves me. Everything else is just an act.” I guess, as the husband of a CEO, I need to learn how to be… generous.

The birthday party had finally ended, and Elena was completely wasted, barely able to sit upright. I drove her home, but the entire ride was filled with her slurring Liam’s name, calling him her “sweet little baby.” Watching her flushed, drunken face in the rearview mirror, I couldn’t help but think back to how things used to be. Once upon a time, it was Elena who had chased after me. I’d never believed in love. How could I? My parents were the perfect cautionary tale. They’d claimed to “love each other to death,” but when either of them found their so-called true love, they divorced faster than anyone could blink. I, their so-called “love child,” became nothing more than a mistake they were desperate to leave behind. After dumping me with the housekeeper, they fled overseas, as if I were some kind of burden holding them back. Ironically, they ended up on the same flight, which tragically crashed en route. They were consumed by fire together, finally achieving their “till death do us part” fantasy. And me? The unwanted stain of their love story? I inherited their billion-dollar fortune. Suddenly, I became the target of every gold digger imaginable. Women swarmed me, hoping to climb their way up to my level. When Elena confessed her feelings to me back then, I didn’t even spare her a glance. She must’ve been out of her mind because, despite my complete indifference, she wouldn’t give up on me. While I wasted my days smoking, drinking, skipping class, and partying, she was always chasing after me, saying she’d save me. When I pretended to be broke, she worked multiple part-time jobs to buy me clothes and cook me meals. When I lied about being sick, she wouldn’t even let me touch cold water, scrubbing my shoes and washing my clothes by hand in the freezing winter. For four years of college, she stood outside my dorm every morning with breakfast, insisting it was for my “sensitive stomach.” After graduation, she saved three months’ worth of wages to buy flowers and a diamond ring, then got down on one knee to propose to me. Little by little, the ice inside me melted. I started to believe in happiness. For the first time, I felt like I could have a family of my own. I thought Elena was my reward from the universe—a gift to heal the scars of my childhood. I told myself that as long as I loved her with all my heart, we’d build a beautiful life together. But reality has a cruel way of pulling the rug out from under you. The moment I transferred the smallest of my companies into her name, she changed. I don’t know when it started, but the diamond necklace I’d given her was replaced by a cheap red heart-shaped pendant. I didn’t think much of it until one day, I noticed Liam wearing the exact same pendant. When I confronted her, she laughed it off, calling me jealous and childish. “Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?” she’d said. A soft groan pulled me back to the present. Elena had woken up, rubbing her temples and whining about her headache. I shook off my thoughts and immediately got up to make her some hangover soup. I even blew on it to cool it down before handing it to her, worried it might burn her. Instead of gratitude, she spat it right in my face. “Ugh! Are you trying to poison me with this bitter crap?” “Babe, it’s supposed to be bitter—it’s a family recipe. Just one sip, and you’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.” I tried coaxing her, but she pushed the bowl away, sending it flying. The soup splattered all over me, soaking my chest. “Ugh, you’re so useless! Can’t even make a decent bowl of soup. Liam would never do something so pathetic!” Her words cut deep, but I didn’t argue. Fighting with a drunk person never ends well. I cleaned up the mess and watched as she walked out of the bathroom, her cheeks flushed and her skin glowing from the steam. For a moment, I forgot everything—her insults, her indifference, even Liam. All I could think about was how much I wanted us to start a family. I walked over and reached for her, but she shoved me so hard I stumbled back. “Get lost, Ben. Go sleep on the couch.” Defeated, I grabbed a blanket and headed for the living room. Just as I was about to leave, her phone slipped out from under the covers and hit the floor with a soft thud. I bent down to pick it up, and that’s when I saw it. The screen was still lit, open to a text from Liam: “Baby, promise me you’ll stay pure for me, okay?” Before I could say a word, Elena snatched the phone out of my hand, her face pale and panicked. She shoved me out of the bedroom, slamming the door in my face. I stood there in the dark, gripping the blanket tightly, my mind racing.

When I went to confront Elena, I found the bedroom door had been locked from the inside. Frustrated, I banged on the door repeatedly, but all I got in return was her yelling, “It’s the middle of the night! Go to bed already, will you?” No matter how long I stood there, she refused to open the door. I gave up eventually, dragging myself to the couch. Wrapping the blanket over my head, I stared at the ceiling, wondering how my life had ended up like this. Ever since Liam joined the company, Elena had been looking down on me more and more. She mocked me for being weak, for being slow, for not being as handsome as Liam. I tossed and turned for hours before I finally passed out. Before the sun even rose, I was jolted awake by Elena’s piercing scream. “Liam’s been kidnapped! Get up! We need to rescue him!” I sat up on the couch, still groggy, my brain struggling to keep up. Seeing me sitting there like an idiot, Elena grabbed a glass of water and threw it in my face. “Useless! Why did I even marry you?” she snapped before storming off to grab her phone. “Hey, Jane,” she barked at her accountant. “I need you to pull together the company’s finances—how much cash do we have on hand? Wire me $2 million immediately.” I crossed my arms and didn’t bother reminding her that the company definitely didn’t have $2 million. Ever since Elena took over, she’d been playing the role of a “boss lady” straight out of a TV drama. She’d driven out most of the company’s top talent, calling them ugly, outdated, or just plain incompetent. She’d rejected deals because they were “too risky,” “too small,” or “too far away.” One by one, the company’s major projects fell apart, and its reputation in the industry was in shambles. Sure enough, it didn’t take long before Jane called back to report the company’s dire financial situation. Elena flew into a rage. “Where the hell has all the money gone? What am I even paying you people for?!” After chewing out Jane, she immediately started selling off luxury cars, designer watches, even her own stocks. Something about all this didn’t sit right with me. Liam’s family wasn’t poor—if he really had been kidnapped, why weren’t they calling his father instead of Elena? I quietly sent a message to my butler, asking him to investigate. At first, Elena seemed guilty about selling off pieces of my collection, promising to buy me something even better later. But the moment I suggested she think twice before selling the stocks, her expression darkened. “You just want Liam to die, don’t you? What did he ever do to you? Why do you hate him so much?” Her voice was shrill, almost hysterical. She refused to listen to reason. Fine, I thought. Let her do whatever she wants. After all, this company was just a minor piece of my portfolio. While she scrambled to gather the money, I secretly had my people buy back the stocks at half their value. I couldn’t let Elena go alone with that much cash, so despite her glares and protests, I followed her. As soon as I started my car, my phone buzzed. It was the butler, calling to report his findings.

“Liam wasn’t kidnapped,” he said bluntly. “He’s setting her up to scam her out of her money. It’s all a ploy.” I felt a wave of cold anger wash over me. I tried calling Elena, but she wasn’t picking up. I sent a message instead, then floored the gas pedal to catch up to her. When I arrived at the casino, Elena was about to hand over the money. “Wait!” I shouted, running toward her. “Elena, he’s lying to you! Liam was never kidnapped!” I yelled, trying to stop her. The fake kidnappers froze, unsure of what to do. I quickly added, “I’ve already called the police. If you idiots try anything, none of you are getting out of here.” Liam’s expression shifted, but only for a moment. Then, with a smirk, he signaled the “kidnappers” to untie him. “Well, looks like the jig is up,” he said casually, brushing off his clothes like nothing had happened. Turning to Elena, he grinned. “Elena, I wasn’t really kidnapped. Last night, during a game of Truth or Dare, my dare was to stage this whole thing and see if you’d be willing to raise $2 million to save me.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing around the room as the “kidnappers” pulled down the curtains to reveal balloons, flowers, and a giant banner. “Elena, you’ve proven how much you care about me. Now it’s my turn.” Liam dropped to one knee, pulling out a diamond ring the size of a golf ball. “Elena, will you marry me? I promise to love you forever.”

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I suspected my husband might be having an affair. I hired a private investigator to look into it. A week later, the investigator sent me numerous photos. In the pictures, my husband was intimately close with his female secretary. There was even a real-time photo of them in a hotel bed, with the secretary’s long hair entwined around his arm and her red-painted nails clutching my husband’s neck. I picked up my phone and dialed my husband’s number. As the gathering drew to a close, guests gradually departed, leaving me standing alone in the empty living room. Outside, snow was falling heavily and the wind was bitterly cold, while my body felt unusually weak from prolonged fatigue and emotional distress. I picked up my phone and called Jack. “Hey, Jack, the party’s over. Could you come pick me up? The snow’s too heavy for me to drive,” I tried to keep my voice calm. On the other end of the line, Jack’s voice sounded a bit flustered, “Emily, I… I’m a bit tied up right now. I might not be able to make it.” “What’s going on? Didn’t you say you were checking on the progress at the project site today?” I asked deliberately, already knowing the answer but still clinging to a shred of hope. “Ah… yes, there’s an unexpected situation at the site that needs my immediate attention,” he stammered in response. “Alright then, be careful,” I hung up, a self-mocking smile tugging at my lips. The private investigator’s photos were right in front of me. How could he still be at the project site? This was just another lie he had fabricated. I set myself a one-hour time limit. If Jack could make it to pick me up within this time, I’d give him one more chance; if not, I’d end this marriage for good. I sat on the couch, staring blankly at the heavy snow outside the window. One hour passed, then two hours, and even after three hours, Jack still hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t even called to check on me. My heart turned completely cold.

I picked up my phone and dialed that familiar number. After ringing for a long time, Jack’s sleepy voice finally came through. “Hello?” His voice carried a hint of impatience. “Jack, where are you right now?” I tried to keep my tone calm, but the anger inside me was about to consume me. “I’m… I’m still busy. What’s wrong?” His answer was clearly a lie. “Is that so? I’ve been waiting for you for three hours. What exactly are you so busy with?” I asked point-blank, my voice suppressing anger. There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then he said irritably, “The company has some issues right now. Can’t you understand and just go home by yourself…” I didn’t bother listening to his baseless accusations and hung up. I stood up, grabbed my coat and car keys, deciding to drive home myself. After getting home, when I reopened my phone, a thought flashed through my mind. I registered a new account and quietly infiltrated Sophia and Jack’s social media circles. My fingertips slid across the screen, revealing post after post. Sophia’s timeline was full of sweet moments between her and Jack. Photo after photo showed them smiling so brightly, as if flaunting their happiness to me. The photos of exquisite gifts, with captions brimming with love, made me sick to my stomach. “Darling, this gift is so thoughtful. Thank you for always being there for me,” Sophia posted a picture of a designer handbag. I clicked into the comments section, and sure enough, Jack’s comment was right there: “As long as you like it, I’m willing to buy you the whole world.” Seeing this sentence, I was stunned, my hand involuntarily gripping the phone tightly. This was also a sweet nothing he had once said to me, but now he easily said it to another woman. A wave of indescribable nausea and hurt washed over me. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my emotions. I took screenshots of their posts and saved them on my phone as evidence of his betrayal of our marriage.

I managed to rest for a night, but woke up the next day feeling headachy and weak. I wanted to rest a bit more, but was awakened by Jack’s rough knocking on the door. “Emily, are you up? Get up and make me something to eat, and while you’re at it, make some hot soup for Sophia. I’ll take it to her later.” His voice came through the door crack, carrying an unquestionable command. I struggled to sit up, fuming, my voice hoarse from the cold: “Jack, can’t you see I’m sick? Why should I cook for you and her?” He clearly hadn’t expected me to refuse. He pushed open the door and stood in front of me with a displeased look: “What’s wrong with you today? Can’t you even do this small thing? Don’t forget, today is our wedding anniversary!” I laughed coldly. This so-called “anniversary” was probably just another excuse for him to show off his harmonious family life. “Anniversary? You must have gotten the date wrong, or maybe you just don’t care about this day at all. And you want me to serve you and your mistress? Jack, you’ve gone too far!” His face darkened as he angrily walked over: “What nonsense are you talking about? Sophia is just a colleague. She worked late today, so I’m just giving her a ride home. Don’t make a fuss!” “Making a fuss?” I pointed at myself, feeling a wave of sadness, “I’m making a fuss? Look at the ‘surprise’ you gave me!” Saying this, I grabbed the small box he had thrown on the bedside table and smashed it in front of him. He was stunned for a moment, then bent down to pick up the box. When he opened it, his expression became complex. Inside the box lay the pendant I had once loved dearly. “This is… the pendant you’ve always wanted. I bought it especially for you,” he tried to explain, but his voice lacked conviction. “Yes, I’ve always wanted it, but what you bought is the cheap imitation that Sophia wears!” I pointed at the identical pendant around Sophia’s neck in the social media photos. “You think I don’t know? You gave her the real one and gave me a fake! Jack, you’re so calculating!” His face turned ashen as he tried to defend himself. “Enough, Jack,” I cut off his words before he could speak. “You’ve lied to me many times.” I looked straight at him. He was stunned.

Jack hesitated for a moment, then suddenly came over to feel my forehead, trying to change the subject: “Emily, let’s not talk about this now. You’re not well, I’ll take you to the hospital.” I shook my head, trying to resist this sudden “care,” “I don’t need you to worry about me!” But he obviously didn’t heed my refusal, pulling me out of bed with one swift motion. “Listen to me, we’re going now,” his tone was uncompromising, as if I were a puppet in his hands, only able to move according to his will. Sitting in the car, I leaned back in my seat, my gaze inadvertently falling on the leather cushion in the back seat. That cushion used to be my favorite, but now it had an eye-catching cross drawn on it by Sophia. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice calm: “This cushion…” Jack glanced at me through the rearview mirror, a flash of embarrassment crossing his face, “Oh, that? Sophia accidentally drew on it. She said she’d get you a new one.” I sneered, “Accidentally? More like intentionally.” I didn’t say anything more. I was already tired of this marriage. At the hospital, the process of registration, consultation, and examination… I went through all these procedures in a half-awake state. Just as I was about to leave, Jack’s phone rang. It was his so-called “company call.” I clearly saw the name on the screen – Sophia. He answered the call, deliberately walking to the side and lowering his voice, but even so, I could vaguely hear the words “miss you.” A few minutes later, he hung up and came over to me, saying, “Emily, there’s an urgent matter at the company. I have to go now. You take a cab home, okay? Be careful.” I nodded, neither trying to keep him nor questioning him. Because I knew all of this was just his excuse. He was only going to meet Sophia. Back home, I lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Until the next morning, when a sudden burst of phone ringing broke the silence of the room. It was Jack, inviting me to attend a gathering, saying it was to celebrate the success of a project. I knew this was just another way for him to show off his “successful man” image in front of me. “I don’t want to go,” I refused him directly. “Emily, you must come,” his tone suddenly became firm. “Ryan and Chris will be there. You’re my wife, it’s your responsibility to attend such occasions.” I was silent for a moment, recalling that unpleasant gathering experience. Back then, I was like an outsider, watching them chat and laugh, feeling out of place myself. But this time, it didn’t matter anymore. I was going to get a divorce anyway, so I decided not to back down. The gathering was at a high-end restaurant. As soon as I entered, I saw Jack and Sophia standing together, their smiles so glaring. Seeing me, Sophia immediately came over enthusiastically, but her eyes flashed with provocation. “Oh, sister Emily is here too,” she deliberately raised her voice, as if wanting everyone to know of my presence. “Long time no see, you and Jack are still so in love.” I looked at her coldly, ignoring her provocation. The gathering began, but I was isolated. Sophia and her friends deliberately excluded me, and no one prepared a seat for me. “What’s wrong, no one arranged a seat for you?” A sarcastic female voice rang out. It was one of Sophia’s friends, deliberately raising her voice so that everyone around could hear. I snorted, “Yeah, I don’t know who planned this gathering. They can’t even handle the most basic tasks.” Sophia’s friend’s face stiffened, about to say something more. Ryan, a usually friendly acquaintance, walked over with a hint of apology on his face. “Emily, I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you didn’t have a seat. Come, sit with me.” I looked at him, about to follow Ryan to his seat, when Sophia stopped me. “Ryan, what’s wrong with you? There are empty seats over there, why squeeze in here?” Sophia deliberately raised her voice, drawing the attention of those around. Ryan looked troubled. He glanced at Sophia, then at me, and finally chose to remain silent. I was fed up inside, thinking I might as well go all out.

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The morning after our wedding, I woke up to the sight of my mother-in-law, Tiara, standing at the foot of our marital bed, looking down at me with unmistakable disdain. “Layla, this house was only loaned to you two for the wedding,” she said, stressing the word “loaned” as though it were some great favors. Groggy and disoriented, I blinked at her, wondering if I’d misheard. Didn’t this house belong to Zac and me? What did she mean by “loaned”? Pushing myself up from the bed, I grabbed my phone and called Zac, who had disappeared early in the morning without a word. At first, Zac hemmed and hawed, his tone evasive. But under my persistent questioning, he finally spilled the truth. “Layla, the house is in my mom’s name. It’s meant for my little brother in the future. I only managed to convince her to let us use it for the wedding by giving her a thousand dollars. “Now that the wedding’s done, it’s time for us to move back to the countryside and live a simple, happy life.” As soon as Zac heard I wanted a divorce, he rushed back to try and talk me out of it. “Don’t be impulsive, Layla. We just got married yesterday. How can you be talking about divorce today?” I was furious, glaring at him as I snapped, “You mean you already showed your true colors the day after the wedding? “Before the wedding, you lied and told me this was your house. Fine, I let that slide. But now you’re telling me it’s actually for Marcus, and you had to pay your mom a thousand dollars just to borrow it for a day?” It wasn’t like I was desperate for Zac to have a house. I had always been financially independent and had a decent job. But I wanted to build a stable family, and if my husband had better financial standing, it would make raising kids easier in the future. Now, however, it was clear that things were different. This house was in Tiara’s name, and technically, both Zac and Marcus should have equal inheritance rights. But Tiara blatantly favored Marcus, and Zac didn’t put up any fight. He was more than willing to hand over everything that should have been his. This wasn’t just about not owning property; Zac was clearly a textbook “submissive to his younger sibling” type. If today they charged a thousand dollars for a day’s use of the house, what’s next? Would Zac have to pay for Marcus’ wedding, car, and future kids? I got married to start a life, not to sell myself as a servant to their family! Zac tried to guilt-trip me, “Layla, you know how hard it was for Mom to raise both me and Marcus on her own. “Marcus didn’t get to enjoy much growing up. It’s just one house. Isn’t it fair to give it to him? “Please don’t make a fuss. The moment I met you, I knew you were a good person, not someone materialistic.” He dared to accuse me of being the one making a fuss? Of being materialistic? Was I supposed to swallow the lies and pretend nothing happened? Wanting fairness and what was rightfully mine made me greedy? I gave Zac one last chance. “Can’t Tiara at least split the house equally between you two?” Before Zac could answer, Tiara, who had been quietly enjoying the show, jumped up and spewed a stream of insults. “Split the house? Dream on! You want my house? Over my dead body!” She continued, “What kind of wife did you marry? I’m still alive, and she’s already eyeing your brother’s things! “If I die, who knows how she’ll bully Marcus! Why don’t you get control of this shameless woman already?” Zac turned purple with embarrassment. After stammering for a moment, he finally went to stand behind Tiara, patting her back to calm her down. “Mom, don’t worry. I’ll talk to Layla. She’ll understand!” Watching how they handled things, I knew it was pointless to keep talking. “No need to waste any more time. It’s still early. Let’s head to the city hall.” I was done with the drama. If we couldn’t reach an agreement, there was no point dragging it out. When Zac saw I was serious about the divorce, he dropped the act. “You think you can just leave like that? If you want a divorce, fine, but only if you pay back the wedding gift! Otherwise, I’ll sue you!” Tiara’s eyes lit up. “Exactly! Do you think you can just waltz in and out of our family? Pay back the money!” I couldn’t believe their audacity. “The fifty thousand dollars was all spent on the wedding, wasn’t it? Our messages clearly show that. If you want to sue, go ahead. I’m not afraid!” I wasn’t about to be intimidated. When I agreed to marry Zac after a whirlwind romance, it was only to shed the stigma of being a “leftover woman.” The fifty thousand dollars wasn’t why I said yes, so I hadn’t been paying close attention to the money. When Zac said he was short on cash for the wedding, I had generously transferred the money to him, not bothering to oversee the details. Who would’ve thought they’d have the nerve to turn around and accuse me?

When I brought up the bank transfer records, Zac fell silent instantly. Tiara, however, kept barking. “You greedy little gold digger! The moment you see my son doesn’t own a house, you’re ready to divorce him. Don’t you have any compassion for your husband?” I let out a cold laugh. “The house isn’t in my name, and the fifty-thousand-dollar wedding gift was entirely transferred to Zac. That’s me being greedy?” Tiara wasn’t one to admit defeat, even when she was wrong. She straightened her neck and shouted, “What have you even contributed? And you want the house in your name? Let’s face it. You’re only here because we have a house in the city!” I scoffed. Fine. If they wanted to accuse me of being calculating, I’d show them what it really looked like. “So, I was the bride, right? Where’s the guest ledger? Let’s take a look at the accounts.” The wedding was held in the countryside, with plenty of relatives and friends attending. While the monetary gifts weren’t substantial, they should have totaled at least thirty or forty thousand dollars. And Tiara had kept every penny of it firmly in her grasp. I worked myself to the bone all day during the wedding, only to be kicked out after one night in the city. I didn’t even get to see a dime, and now I’m the one being labeled as greedy? What kind of luck did I have to marry into this family? Zac glared at me with bulging eyes. “Layla! All you talk about is money or a house. Did you marry me just for that?” What else? Did I marry him for being almost forty, without a house or a car? Or was it to follow him back to the countryside and struggle? We couldn’t find common ground, so I immediately packed my bags and called a cab to go back to my parents’ house. But as soon as I got there, I was greeted with looks of disdain from my parents. “What are you doing back here? There’s no place for you in this house!” I expected this. At thirty-five years old, I had been the “problem” child in their eyes, the daughter who couldn’t get married. If not for their relentless pressure to find a husband, I wouldn’t have rushed into this ill-advised, hasty marriage. Suppressing my anger, I recounted everything Zac and his family had done. Instead of siding with me, my parents berated me for not being a good wife. “You’re already at this age. You should be grateful a man even wants you. You can’t be so demanding!” “It’s just a house, isn’t it? You’ve been working for ten years. You and your husband can pool your savings for a down payment and pay off the mortgage gradually,” my mom said, glaring at me in frustration, her finger tapping against my forehead. My dad extinguished his cigarette and chimed in, “I told you a long time ago that women shouldn’t work so hard. But you wouldn’t listen, always chasing your career. “Now you’re thirty-five. All the good men are taken. You’re lucky to find someone who’s never been married. “Listen to me, go back to Zac’s place this afternoon, apologize to Tiara, and stop making trouble.” A wave of despair swept over me. Neither my in-laws nor my own parents considered me family. Dragging my suitcase back to my old room, I discovered my bedding and pillows had already been packed away. I had only been gone for a day… Before I could even argue with my parents, there was a rapid knock on the door. “Oh, Zac, you’re here. Layla just got home too. Young couples have little tiffs all the time. Sit down, talk it out, and everything will be fine!” My mom practically tripped over herself welcoming him, guiding him to the couch, pouring him coffee, and putting on her best hospitable smile. But Zac wasn’t having it. His face was dark as he growled, “There’s nothing to talk about. Your daughter looks down on me. Fine, I can take it. “But that wedding gift? That was borrowed from relatives. If Layla wants a divorce, you must pay it back!” The moment my mom heard it, her demeanor changed. “That wedding gift didn’t come to us! It all went with Layla! How can you expect us to pay it back?” She stormed to my door, banging on it furiously. “Layla, you ungrateful burden! You’re the bane of my existence. Get out here and explain yourself right now!”

When I opened the door, Zac stood there with a smug expression plastered on his face. I knew he wasn’t serious about wanting me to return the wedding gift. He just wanted to use the debt as leverage, keeping me tied to him, obediently playing the role of a dutiful wife-slash-servant for his family. But I wasn’t some helpless lamb ready for slaughter. If he wanted to play dirty, I’d gladly up the ante. Taking my time, I said, “The wedding was held in your hometown, right? If I’m not mistaken, the catering was done by Fabian’s family at the edge of the village?” Zac, confused by my calm response, hesitated. He clearly expected yelling and accusations, not a casual reference to wedding logistics. “What does that have to do with anything?” he snapped, feigning confidence. “Either pay back the money or come home with me!” “You…” Before I could respond, my father chimed in, siding with Zac and scolding me. “Layla! I raised you better than to argue with your husband’s family!” I stared at my father, incredulous, as he turned to Zac and handed him a cigarette. “Zac, take Layla back with you. If she misbehaves, discipline her however you see fit. Hit her, scold her, whatever you need. We won’t interfere.” Buoyed by my father’s support, Zac accepted the cigarette, speaking to me with even more audacity. “You hear that? Even your own parents can’t stand you!” I closed my eyes briefly, then nodded. “Fine. I’ll go back with you.” If my own family wouldn’t back me up and would only hold me back, I’d rather fight this battle alone. As soon as we got out of the car, Zac reached over, trying to wrap his arm around my waist. Disgusted, I dodged. Zac chuckled, brushing off my reaction. “Still shy, huh? If it weren’t for being so tired yesterday, last night would’ve been our wedding night!” Clearly, Zac assumed that my agreeing to return meant I had resigned myself to this life. His tone made that abundantly clear. I glanced at him and asked, “Where’s the expense report for the wedding?” His expression darkened, and he barked, “Why keep bringing that up? It’s over and done with. We’ll pay back the money together and focus on building our future!” Rubbing my neck, I sighed, “Well, if you won’t tell me, I’ll just go to your hometown and investigate myself. “Fabian’s family handled the catering, didn’t they? It wouldn’t take much effort to ask them how much they charged.” The food at the wedding had been mediocre at best. The beef and lamb didn’t even seem fresh. It couldn’t have cost much. As for other wedding expenses, there hadn’t even been a proper emcee. I refused to believe Zac’s modest wedding had burned through the full fifty thousand dollars. Zac stormed off, too angry to keep arguing. Of course, I never expected him to hand over any records. My point wasn’t to make Zac confess; it was to establish a reason for staying in the city. Zac, pushing forty, was floundering at work and eager to retreat to the countryside for a quieter life. But I wasn’t about to throw away my career in the city for his sake. Whenever Zac suggested I move to the countryside with him, no matter how much he tried to romanticize rural life, I’d bring up the finances. That was all it took for Zac and Tiara to glare at me in silent frustration. Eventually, they stopped bringing it up altogether. But I stayed put, waiting for the perfect moment. Zac’s brother’s upcoming wedding. A month later, I made a call to Marcus. “Hey, Marcus, just thought I’d give you a heads-up. Mom might be planning to transfer the house to Zac. “I’m serious. Zac’s mentioned it a few times already. Originally, we were just supposed to borrow the house for the wedding and move back to the countryside. “But it’s been a month now, and Mom’s starting to think she’s been too hard on Zac over the years. She might be trying to make it up to him!”

I was deliberately misleading Marcus. Tiara treated him like the apple of her eye; there was no way she would ever hand over the house to Zac. “Once your wedding is over next month, they might officially transfer the house. You’d better keep an eye on it!” Marcus panicked immediately. He had grown accustomed to everything in this family being his. “I knew it! Zac may seem honest on the surface, but he’s definitely plotting something!” From his tone on the phone, it sounded like Marcus was about to stomp his feet in frustration. I smiled. Look at that. This brother, whom Zac cherished and defended so much, thought so poorly of him. Marcus had dropped out of vocational school and gone to work out of town. With his wedding scheduled for just before the New Year, he wouldn’t be back until then. He was ready to call Tiara and Zac right away to demand an explanation, but I couldn’t let him ruin the fun just yet. “The moment you ask,” I cautioned him, “your mom will just brush you off. If she truly wanted you to have the house, she would’ve transferred it to you as soon as you turned eighteen instead of dragging it out until both of you were married.” “But don’t worry,” I continued with feigned sincerity, “I would never try to take something that rightfully belongs to you. You’re still young, and I feel bad for you.” I quickly sent him a photo of a draft I’d prepared—a voluntary waiver of any claim to the house. “Here, look at this. It’s legally binding. I absolutely won’t try to take the house from you!” Marcus, spoiled and with little understanding of legalities, was quickly duped. “Layla, you’re amazing! My brother’s so lucky to have married such a kind and understanding woman!” Sure. A “good wife” who was willing to sacrifice herself for them? That was how they see me. If I so much as hinted at claiming a share of the house, they’d probably curse me to high heaven. I chuckled sweetly and said, “Oh, stop it. You’re about to get married. What matters most is living a happy life with your wife!” Hearing Marcus’ cheerful laugh on the other end of the line, I smoothly changed the subject. “By the way, have you decided who’ll host your wedding? These days, brides care so much about having a proper ceremony. Zac and I just had a small family gathering with no vows, no ring exchange, none of that special stuff.” I sighed dramatically, “Thinking back, it all feels like something was missing.” Marcus, still trying to process what I’d said, started to get anxious. “I’m not very educated, Layla, and I’m not familiar with all that. Do you think it’s too late to arrange something now? If you don’t mind, could you help me out?”

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