Category: English

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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In my previous life, my mother suffered a massive hemorrhage after a car accident. I desperately pleaded with my brother to bring my adopted sister to the hospital for a blood transfusion to save her since they both had the rare blood type. But after the transfusion, my sister slipped away in the night and drowned herself in the sea. She left a note accusing our family of treating her like a human blood bank. My brother managed her funeral with an unsettling calm and assured me not to feel guilty. However, on my birthday, he forcibly took me to the hospital rooftop. “You’re so cruel. You caused her depression and even convinced Mom to go along with your act.” “You killed Bella. You should die to make amends for her.” Then he pushed me off the rooftop. I died with unresolved regrets. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day of the car accident. The loud crash brought my drifting consciousness back. I opened my eyes to see my mother shielding me with her body. My eyes immediately welled up with tears. This scene was so heartbreakingly familiar. In my last life, my mom protected me the same way, leading to her severe blood loss. “Mom, are you okay?” “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” But I could clearly see the blood gushing from her abdomen. How could she be okay? I held back my tears, pulled out my phone, and called for an ambulance. Then I pressed on my mom’s wound with trembling hands, trying to slow the bleeding. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my reflection in the shattered car window, a face full of determination. This was unlike the helpless me from before. In my last life, I was so scared and lost, only thinking to call my brother for help. He didn’t believe me at first and took a long time to come and take my mom to the hospital, causing her to miss the optimal rescue time. Although she survived, she was paralyzed from the waist down and had to rely on a wheelchair. The ambulance arrived quickly, and I went with my mom to the hospital. At the hospital, doctors rushed her into surgery. I waited outside, staring intently at the closed door. Before the doctor could say anything, I hurriedly posted a help request online, asking those with the rare blood type to come forward. I couldn’t rely on my brother and adopted sister anymore. The more avenues, the more hope. I still called my brother. “Mom had a car accident. She urgently needs the rare blood type. Bring sister…” “Are you still pretending? Are you so vicious that you can’t let her have a peaceful birthday?” My heart sank. “No, it’s true, Mom, she…” “Shut up! Mom is not seriously injured, and the hospital isn’t short of blood.” His voice was cold on the other end. “This time, I will protect Bella. I won’t let you bully her anymore!” At this moment, the doctor came out. He told me the blood bank’s rare blood type stock was insufficient and the situation was critical. My brother heard it too. He sneered. “Oh, you got other actors to join your show?” I was frantic. “Mom is in a massive hemorrhage now. It’s critical. She urgently needs the rare blood type. Bring sister to the hospital!” My voice was sharp with urgency, almost crying. “Sister, do you like bullying me so much? Can’t you let me have a good birthday?” I heard my adopted sister’s voice on the phone, full of doubt and feigned innocence. My heart sank further. “Still using Mom as an excuse? You just have to stir things up on her birthday.” My brother’s tone was cold and certain, convinced I was deliberately causing trouble. “Brother, I’m really not lying to you.” I was so anxious that tears welled up in my eyes, my voice trembling. “Enough!” my brother roared. “Do you think I’ll be fooled by you like before? You’re always like this, jealous of Bella, trying every way to trouble her. I’ll tell you, I won’t let you succeed again.” He hung up, leaving me holding the phone, listening to the cold busy tone, tears streaming down my face.

I leaned against the hospital wall, overwhelmed by a mixture of despair and anger. Just as I was about to lose hope, a message appeared in our support group chat. “Is it the city hospital? I have a rare blood type, and I’m nearby.” I wiped my tears and quickly responded. “Yes, yes.” “All right, I’m heading over now.” But five minutes later, I received several voice messages. When I listened to them, I heard the furious voice of a middle-aged man. “Are you kidding? Sending out false information just to compete with your sister?” “Do you think people have time for this nonsense? It’s insane.” “…” The rest of the messages were harsh criticisms aimed at me. I felt like I had been plunged into a deep freeze. How could this happen? Why would he… It must be my brother! It has to be him! Then came the scorn and ridicule from others in the group. “What kind of person jokes in a hospital support group?” “Kick her out immediately.” My body trembled uncontrollably. Anger, despair, and helplessness swirled within me, threatening to consume me. I stared at the phone screen, watching the relentless flow of accusations. My nails dug into my palms, yet I felt no pain. I hurriedly replied. “No, the patient is truly experiencing massive hemorrhage.” I also sent the hospital’s medical report. “It’s the city hospital; please believe me.” “I’m begging you, please come and save my mom.” For a moment, the group fell silent. Then different voices began to emerge. “Is anyone near the hospital? Can someone check it out? What if it’s true?” “Yeah, the medical report doesn’t look fake.” The middle-aged man with the rare blood type messaged again. “I’ll head over once more, hoping it’s not a trick.” I finally breathed a sigh of relief and thanked them repeatedly. While waiting for the middle-aged man, I kept searching my contacts for anyone who might help. Even if there’s just a sliver of hope, I wouldn’t give up. But after a series of calls, all I got were disappointing responses. Either they didn’t have the rare blood type, or they were too far away. I could only place my hopes on that middle-aged man. Who would’ve thought, hope would shatter again. He sent another barrage of voice messages. “I swear, I really want to kill someone. Is it fun to deceive me this many times?” I quickly replied, “No, I’m right at the emergency room door. If you don’t believe me, you can ask the doctor. It happened on Wall Street.” “You’re still lying. I just asked the doctor.” The man’s voice grew more agitated. “The doctor told me the Wall Street accident was minor, just superficial injuries, no need for a transfusion.” “No, that doctor is lying to you; he’s deceiving you.” As soon as I sent that message, I was kicked out of the group. I kept trying to rejoin, but the admin denied my requests. I tried several times, all denied. I couldn’t bear it anymore and collapsed, sobbing. That’s when Dr. Blair called. He’s a friend of my brother’s. “Stop causing trouble. I already asked the admin to kick you out.” “Your brother was right; you’ve been spoiled by your mom, resorting to such underhanded tactics just for jealousy.” “Your adopted sister is pitiful; please stop targeting her and let her have a nice birthday.” All my words caught in my throat, and I cried silently.

I was completely in despair until Dr. Blair hung up. Yet, my brother couldn’t let it go. “Alice Johnson, you never change, do you? Still spreading lies in the help group?” “If something happens to Mom, I won’t forgive you or Bella.” My voice, hoarse with resentment, barely managed to come out. On the other end, my brother paused for a moment before letting out a mocking laugh. “Really? After Bella’s birthday, I’ll take her back. This time, I’ll make sure Mom sets you straight.” “You’re so jealous; you should just move out. I don’t feel safe with Bella living under the same roof as you.” I listened numbly, unsure if the voice on the other end was truly my brother’s or some demon wearing his skin. He used to care so deeply for me, his little sister. But everything changed when Bella was adopted. Mom was always busy, jetting around the world for work. My brother took on the role of looking after both me and Bella. Whenever Bella shed a tear, he assumed I was the one bullying her. It happened so often that he began to dislike me more and more. Initially, I tried hard to explain myself. But my efforts only led to harsher scoldings and increased protection for my adopted sister. Now, with Mom’s life hanging in the balance in the operating room, my brother’s thoughts are on Bella’s birthday and pushing me out of the house. My hatred grew stronger. I hated my brother’s inability to see the truth, Bella’s deceitful nature, and my own past weakness… The light in the operating room remained on, each passing second pounding heavily on my heart. Just as I was about to succumb to despair, a call from an unknown number came through. I hesitated but answered it. “Hello, are you looking for someone with a rare blood type to save your mother? I’m a nurse at the city hospital and just saw your message in the group.” “Yes, yes, I’m looking for someone.” My voice was tearful. “Don’t cry, little sister. I found a former patient in the hospital records with a rare blood type. I’ll give you his contact info. Try reaching out to him.” Hearing this was like grabbing a lifeline. I quickly thanked the nurse and dialed the number she gave me. When the call connected, I urgently explained the situation through my tears. The person on the other end was silent for a moment before saying, “I can donate blood, but I need some compensation. After all, donating blood isn’t a small matter.” “I need a million dollars.” I agreed to his demand without hesitation. As long as it saved Mom, I would accept any condition. Ten minutes later, the person willing to donate blood showed up. I hurried with him to find the doctor, only to be suddenly stopped by Dr. Blair. “What are you up to now? Why are you causing a scene in the hospital?” The donor looked at me, confused. I told him to go to the blood center first, “The patient is Eliza. Tell the doctor you’re donating for her.” He nodded, a bit skeptical, and turned to leave. But Dr. Blair tried to stop him again. I wouldn’t let him block my way to saving Mom. Driven by desperation, I lunged at Dr. Blair, hitting him. Like my brother, he was used to hearing only one side. If it weren’t for his interference, Mom could have been saved by now. I hated him. My hateful gaze made Dr. Blair pause, momentarily forgetting to fight back until hospital security guards came to pull me away. More and more people gathered, including the hospital director. “What’s going on?” “Director, she’s the sister of a friend of mine. She’s just throwing a fit at the hospital to spite her family.” I wanted to punch him again, but the guards held me back. “Cora, you’re such a fool. If I wanted to spite them, why wouldn’t I crash Bella’s birthday party instead?”

Cora was momentarily taken aback but then continued with a defiant tone. “Your brother said your aunt had a car accident, and you used that opportunity to bring Bella over for a blood transfusion.” “It’s like you’re making Bella think she’s just a walking blood bank for the family.” “She’s already struggling with depression, and you’re trying to push her over the edge.” I let out a bitter laugh, tears forming in my eyes. I turned to the director and said, “You heard it yourselves. Dr. Blair at your hospital has been endangering patients’ lives and repeatedly obstructing my efforts to save someone.” “My mom was in a car accident and urgently needs a rare blood type, yet he misled the willing donors and even got the group admin to kick me out.” Dr. Blair insisted, “You’re a fraud. It’s not like I just met you yesterday. I’ve been to your house several times, and each time you were mistreating Bella.” The director was more composed. He quickly consulted with other doctors and nurses. A nurse quietly explained, “Director, this young lady’s mom indeed had a car accident with significant blood loss and needs a rare blood type. She’s currently in the emergency room.” Cora turned pale, murmuring, “Impossible, impossible…” The director stopped listening to his excuses and led the way to the emergency room. Cora followed behind. … The red light outside the operating room was still on, a stark reminder that this battle for life wasn’t over yet. I sat on the bench, finally able to catch my breath. Cora was so shocked that he was trembling, looking at me in disbelief. “How could this be… but your brother and Bella…” I ignored him, keeping my eyes fixed on the emergency room door. Cora, overwhelmed and in pain, kicked the trash can and kept trying to call his brother. After a long wait, the call finally connected. “What’s going on?” “Danielle, your mom is really in trouble.” “Heh, so even you were manipulated by Alice Johnson?” Cora punched the wall in frustration, “I’m in big trouble because of you. You’re celebrating your birthday at a time like this.” “Alright, I’m done talking. I’m going to cut Bella’s cake.” “You…” The call ended abruptly. Cora turned to me, looking defeated. His eyes were filled with regret. “Alice, I’m sorry. I was misled by your brother.” “I’ll add you back to the support group, and I’ll help clear your name.” I stared at him intently, “It’s too late. No matter what you do, I will see this through to the end. Your career is over.” “Cora, you’re a disgrace to the medical profession.” Cora froze, his face drained of color. In the past life, Cora wasn’t innocent either. He liked Bella and often aided her in hurting me. It was partly due to his help that my brother lured me to the hospital rooftop in the previous life. Just before I was pushed off, the hospital security happened to pass by. It was Cora who sent the guard away. I want them to face the consequences of their actions. I also want Mom to see the true nature of my brother and Bella. Two hours later, the operating room doors opened. “Congratulations, the surgery was a great success.” I finally smiled through my tears. Mom was moved to a private room, and she slowly woke up around nine in the evening. “Mom.” “Don’t cry, my daughter, as long as you’re okay.” “Mom, about my brother and them…” Mom raised her hand and gently caressed my cheek. “Don’t worry, this time, Mom will protect you.” “I’m sorry, my daughter, for not taking good care of you and letting you suffer for so many years.”

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I sprained my ankle while helping my friend Eloise, who runs a store that sells contraceptives. I agreed to deliver a package for her since it was on my way home. Little did I know, I was delivering condoms that my husband would later use while cheating with another woman. I was still grappling with the shock of discovering my usually gentle and loving husband was unfaithful, when I unearthed another secret. My husband wasn’t just some guy barely scraping by on a $4500 monthly salary, struggling to pay rent. The company he works for is actually a branch of his family’s business. He’s a legitimate rich heir! On New Year’s Day, Eloise called, saying she twisted her ankle and needed me to deliver a package for her. The delivery address was in a luxury neighborhood not far from my home, conveniently on my route. As I was about to leave, I hesitated, looking at the shelves filled with products. Eloise noticed my hesitation and quickly grabbed a few boxes, stuffing them into my bag. “Consider it a reward for helping me out.” Life with Oliver was financially tight. After covering the mortgage, car loan, and utilities, there wasn’t much leftover. We’ve only been married for half a year, and we’re still very much in love, so we go through these quickly. To save money, we usually buy discounted brands. Cheap products aren’t great; they make me uncomfortable. Last night, I realized we were running low. Eloise’s gift was just what I needed. But admitting to a friend that I’m struggling to afford something as basic as condoms was a bit embarrassing. Then Eloise said something that made me uneasy: “This house regularly orders from me, but this time they changed the delivery phone number. When I checked, guess what?” Still embarrassed, I stayed silent, and Eloise lowered her voice, “It’s Oliver’s! Last time I delivered, I saw Oliver’s car downstairs! I thought he was there for business, so I didn’t mention it. But now, thinking about it, you should be cautious. I hope it’s just my imagination.” I checked the order phone number several times. It was indeed my husband’s. But Oliver comes home four nights a week; how could he have the energy to see someone else? Besides, this is a luxury neighborhood, five times the price of ours. How could Oliver, with his $4500 monthly salary, be involved with someone here? I wanted to believe it was a mistake, but when I knocked on the door, I was stunned. I saw a very familiar face—Oliver’s childhood friend, Juniper. But Oliver had told me she went abroad and didn’t know when she’d return. Through the open door, I could see that Juniper’s home was clearly lived in for some time. My mind was racing again, and then I heard a familiar, impatient voice from inside. “Juniper, haven’t you got it yet? Come in, I’ll show you a special trick I just learned. You’ll love it.” The voice was very similar to Oliver’s when he’s being intimate with me. Juniper gave me a knowing smile. “I know who you are.” “But I’m busy now, so if you have questions, save them for next time.” Then she closed the door, shutting out the sounds of intimacy inside. I had no proof, so I couldn’t just burst in. I had to wait for Oliver to come home and keep a close eye on him.

On the way back, I was in a daze, thinking my husband was just an ordinary employee who couldn’t afford such a house. He couldn’t possibly be cheating. But as soon as I reached the entrance of the luxury neighborhood, Oliver’s younger brother, Liam, pulled up in a luxury car right in front of me. He still had that playful grin. “Sister-in-law? Have you finally realized my brother is a rich heir and decided to spend his money to move out of that old place?” Rich heir? The term felt foreign when it hit my ears. To me, Oliver was the kind of guy who compared prices on toilet paper just to save a few cents. Being with him, we stretched every dollar, exhausted after work, yet still set an alarm to rush to the store for discounted groceries. Now someone in a luxury car tells me he’s a rich heir. It feels like a huge joke to me. I met Oliver through a blind date. He was honest, reliable, and caring, so I happily married him. I didn’t think life was hard; buying a house was our shared goal, just like our life together. Besides, Oliver’s passion and affection in bed made me feel he couldn’t do without me. But with everything happening today, I couldn’t help but wonder if his gentleness was real or a facade. Liam, seeing me silent, laughed heartily. “Judging by your look, my brother hasn’t told you the truth, huh?” “But I heard someone was living in the house he bought here. I thought you two talked it out, so I came to congratulate you on the move. Since you didn’t know, who is living in that house?” Liam seemed to know everything, watching me with that playful look. I knew he and Oliver didn’t get along. They almost fought at our wedding. Later, Oliver refused any contact between us, and now Liam had a chance to embarrass him, he wouldn’t let it go. He wanted me to fight with Oliver and make a big scene. But honestly, I could endure hardship with Oliver and work to improve our life. But I can’t tolerate his deceit and cheating. Delivering the condoms for my husband and his mistress myself is ridiculous! I clenched my fists. Liam wasn’t much better, waiting for this moment! I didn’t know how he tracked me down, but I knew causing a scene wouldn’t help. Liam is more cunning and dangerous. I held back my anger and went home, then searched the house for anything about Oliver.

He hid things well, like he was preventing me from discovering he was wealthy. I couldn’t find any evidence! Oliver came home three hours later. He seemed in a good mood, smiling as he hugged me on the couch. “After a year of work, we can finally take a break. Did you buy condoms? We can have a good time. The company was busy at year’s end, we haven’t been intimate. Let’s make up for it today.” My stomach churned, finding his behavior disgusting. I pushed him away and sarcastically asked, “Oliver, you’re probably drained, right? How does it feel cheating with Juniper behind my back?” Oliver’s pupils dilated instantly, then he forced a laugh, “Honey, what are you talking about?” I raised my voice, “I want a divorce! You went to great lengths to pretend to be someone else, making me suffer here while you’re keeping a mistress in a luxury neighborhood. Aren’t you disgusting?” Oliver, frustrated, said, “I did it for you! When we met, you wanted $30 bubble tea. You’re a gold digger! I hid my identity to help you change your ways!” “You being frugal and a good wife is thanks to me! You should be grateful!” “And I wasn’t planning to hide it forever. But you can’t stick to a budget every month. How can I trust you?” “Enough!” I couldn’t listen anymore and shouted, cutting him off, “I was fooled by your facade! Once exposed, you showed your true self?” “Fine, let’s divorce, before City Hall closes for the holidays.” Oliver paced the small living room; he was really angry, a far cry from his usual self. He liked controlling me in bed, guiding me by day, but things had spiraled beyond his control. He couldn’t handle it and said, “Fine! We can divorce! But don’t think of taking any of my money! I’ll generously give you this house.” Generous? I paid most of the down payment, and I’m paying most of the mortgage! I couldn’t believe he said that with a straight face! He expected me to beg, “If a gold digger like you enters my home, who knows what trouble you’d cause? I’ll divorce you eventually!” “Really going through with it?” Eloise sat in front of me, looking awkward. After a night of thinking, I calmed down. “You asked me to deliver the package not just because of your twisted ankle or it being on my way, right?” “What else do you know? Can you tell me now?” Eloise, a friend since childhood, felt guilty as things escalated. “Actually, a few days ago, Liam came to see me.” “Are you really going to get a divorce?” Eloise sat across from me, visibly uncomfortable and unsure. After a night of reflection, I was able to calm myself. “You asked me to help deliver something, but it wasn’t just because of your sprained ankle or because it was on my way, right?” “What else do you know? Can you tell me now?” Eloise, my childhood friend, looked guilty. “Actually, a few days ago, Liam came to see me.” “He told me about Oliver’s infidelity, but I knew with your personality, you wouldn’t believe it without seeing it yourself. So, I helped him stage the scene.” “But I really didn’t know he was a wealthy heir! I only knew he was cheating!” At this point, whether he was cheating or hiding his wealthy background from me no longer matters. Both prove he didn’t truly love me. He was full of deceit. This marriage has to end! I suppressed my anger. “What else do you know? You can tell me everything now.” Eloise shook her head. “That’s all. I’m not really familiar with either of them.” “But Liam coming around suddenly, who knows what he’s up to. You should be careful.” I nodded to show I understood. I have no desire to return to the house Oliver and I bought. I plan to sell it before the divorce and split the proceeds evenly. I won’t take a penny more than what’s mine. Whatever he takes, I can easily get back by visiting home. I’m not bothered at all! Having seen his true colors, I just want to cut ties quickly. No more contact! I’ve decided to stay at Eloise’s place until the divorce is finalized. After reclaiming his rich heir identity, Oliver ditched his beat-up van and flea market clothes. On the day of the divorce, he arrived in luxury attire, driving an extravagant car. In the passenger seat was his childhood sweetheart, Juniper. When Oliver wasn’t looking, Juniper wore a smug expression. I think she’s been waiting for this day for a long time. Oliver is truly blind, having a gold digger like her by his side and not realizing it. From deep within, I genuinely wish them well. May they stay together forever and not harm others. After getting out of the car, he leaned against the door, speaking in a sarcastic tone, “Leaving me will be the biggest mistake of your life. If you could have endured my test, a year later, you’d be enjoying this luxurious life too.” “Blame yourself for being too greedy and impatient. Seeing your recent behavior, I’m more convinced that keeping secrets from you and testing you was the right decision!” I have no idea where his sense of superiority comes from! I rolled my eyes at him, inadvertently revealing my Cartier limited edition earrings. “Who is this country bumpkin?” 4. He noticed them too. “There’s no need to pretend in front of me. I know exactly how much money you have. Wearing fake flea market goods to save face is just embarrassing.” “But for the sake of our marriage, I’ll split the house 60-40 after the divorce.” The house isn’t worth much. In the end, he’s essentially giving me an extra $70,000. Yet, he acts like he’s offering me the world. I’m more disgusted with Oliver than ever! I don’t want to stay with him any longer. “If we’re divorcing, let’s hurry up. I’m in a rush.” My disdain for him was obvious, but he thought I was just being irrational. To prevent him from continuing his act, I didn’t hesitate to turn and walk into City Hall. In less than half an hour, Oliver and I came out again. Juniper couldn’t help but approach us, holding Oliver’s hand and cautiously asking, “Did you get divorced?” After being deceived by Oliver for so long, I had no intention of letting him off easily. So, before he could answer, I quickly said, “No, we didn’t.” Juniper panicked instantly. She went from a delicate flower to furious. “How come you aren’t divorced?! Didn’t you always say you would divorce?!” “Oliver! Are you lying to me? Didn’t you say that after divorcing her, you’d be with me? You even called her a gold digger! Why aren’t you divorced now?!” Then she suddenly thought of something, her voice sharp with disbelief, “You’re not still hung up on this gold digger, are you?!” Oliver, frustrated by her shouting, couldn’t help but raise his voice, “Divorce cooling-off period!” Only then did Juniper calm down, quickly regaining her demure demeanor. She snuggled into Oliver’s arms. “I knew it. How could you still be hung up on her?” “You promised me you’d be with me. You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” She spoke softly, but her eyes were full of desire for possession. This kind of woman is ruthless, but Oliver, the miser, insists she’s the one who can endure hardships with him and withstand tests. If anything happens in the future, it’s no one’s fault but his own. It’s his just desserts! Oliver deliberately flaunted his affection for her in front of me. “That’s right. I’ll give you a grand wedding.” I chuckled coldly. Oliver thought I was jealous and was about to mock me when he saw me get into a luxury car. It’s a limited edition. Just one of its tires could probably buy him a car. Oliver’s eyes sparkled as he rushed over, angrily questioning me, “Where did this come from? You haven’t even properly divorced yet, and you’re already clinging to someone else’s leg!” “You just love sleeping with older men, don’t you? How did I not see that you’re such a cheap gold digger before?” I pried his hand off. “Please show some respect. Do you think everyone is like you, a worthless cheater?” “This car is mine. Don’t think your family is the only wealthy one in the world. It’s utterly ridiculous!” The driver, seeing him blocking me, couldn’t stand it any longer and got out to pull him aside, then escorted me into the car. Under the bewildered gaze of Oliver and Juniper, the car drove me away from there. If Oliver likes to pick fights, then I’ll play along. I am not afraid of trouble. Whatever harm Oliver does to me, I’ll make sure to pay it back! As soon as I got back from City Hall to Eloise’s place, my brother showed up. He had always tried to stop me from marrying Oliver, but I stubbornly believed Oliver was a good person. Though poor, he was hardworking and kind to me. He always acted like he couldn’t live without me. So I was willing to endure hardships with him, willing to leave everything behind and start from scratch with him. Now, with my brother suddenly showing up, I didn’t know how to face him. The person I believed in, the one I chose, deceived me so terribly. If only I had listened to him. I thought my brother would lecture me as before, but he only glanced at the designer bag I was carrying. “Finally willing to use the stuff I bought for you.” I felt awkward. Today, to keep up appearances, I used a lot of the gifts my brother had given me. When I got divorced, I was confidently saying that I could build a big company from scratch on my own. But now, I still have nothing behind me. Yet, he didn’t blame me at all. He just came in and looked around the room. Then he said, “If you don’t want to go home yet, go to the house I bought for you. This place is too small and uncomfortable.” He gave me a way out, and there was no reason to refuse. I agreed, quickly packed my things, sent Eloise a message, and moved out. Who would’ve thought, passing by a luxury neighborhood, I’d see Oliver and Juniper all lovey-dovey at the corner. Juniper sat in front of the car, with Oliver’s arm around her waist, kissing her passionately. My brother, who knew Oliver, impatiently honked several times to urge him. Oliver was startled and probably deflated instantly. Then, with a face full of anger, he looked up and locked eyes with me. Seeing my face, Oliver sneered. “Is this the sugar daddy you’re clinging to?”

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The father and his two sons, originally antagonistic figures, were destined to destroy each other over the heroine. But I intervened and altered their fate. In the end, the elder son took over the family business, while the younger son gained admission to a top university. Yet, at the company’s annual meeting, both brothers implored the Chairman to let their father marry the widowed heroine and make her the family’s Heiress. “Dad and Sister Lydia have already missed over ten years together. Mom, you need to be understanding and generous.” On the day of my husband’s wedding, I didn’t cause a scene. Instead, I summoned the long-silent System. “Confirm departure from this wretched place.” I stood in the rain, the bridge already collapsed, with old love songs playing from the speakers by the roadside until the final note faded away. I leaned forward, letting myself fall into the icy, bone-chilling river. I was a strategist, tasked with saving the antagonist and his family from tearing themselves apart over the heroine. What was tragic was that once the original male lead was gone, my husband and sons were eager to bring the widowed heroine into our home. The System’s voice chimed in: [Master, the mission has failed. Once your physical body in this alternate universe perishes, your real-world body will awaken. However, your time there is running short. Are you sure you want to leave here?] I nodded slightly. With the little time remaining, I just wanted to spend it with my family and friends. But the expected suffocation didn’t come. A strong hand grabbed my arm from behind and pulled me up. “What are you doing? Today is Sister Lydia’s special day, and you’re pulling this stunt?” I turned around to see my stepson, Jasper, panting heavily, his bright eyes aflame with anger. He was one of my targets in this world and later became the most fervent antagonist in the story. He would become obsessed with the heroine, turn against his family, and ultimately become someone everyone shunned. When I became Nolan’s second wife, Jasper was just six years old. His birth mother had passed away, and his father was always busy with work. As a child, he caused trouble in the streets, seeking attention but often ending up bullied. I brought him home, cleaned him up, and planned his future. Jasper wasn’t interested in studying, so I encouraged him, saying a man could achieve great things in business. For the first time, young Jasper had a dream. His eyes reddened, and he asked, “Can I call you Mom? They all laugh at me for not having a Mom, saying I’m a wild child…” With my permission, he hugged me gently. “Mom, when I grow up and make a lot of money, the first thing I’ll do is buy you a big house and give you a good life.” But when he actually achieved his dream, his first request was to make Lydia his new mom. He stopped calling me Mom. He even hated me because Lydia said it was my fault she got kidnapped by bad people and couldn’t come back to see him. The handsome young man in front of me overlapped with the child who used to call me Mom, but his eyes were now filled with coldness. “Stop pretending. You’re just trying to get our attention, right? If you really wanted to die, why choose the road where I’d be coming home from work, perfectly timed?” I was speechless. I just wanted to find a not-too-ugly way to leave, in a place with a nice view. I never expected to run into Jasper. Seeing that I didn’t reply, Jasper mocked, “If you really want to die, find a place further away. Sister Lydia loves this river. She takes walks here when the weather’s nice, so don’t…” He suddenly stopped. I quickly dashed to the other end of the broken bridge and jumped off. Lydia likes this river, right? Then I hope she never comes here again. Every time she does, I hate it more.

My body grew heavier, and in a daze, I heard the instruments ticking in the hospital room. Dad, Mom, wait for me! Your daughter will be home soon! Just when I thought I would succeed, a powerful force dragged me back to the shore. Jasper was soaked, his eyes misty with tears or water, I couldn’t tell. Looking at Jasper, I jokingly teased him, “You don’t want me dead, huh?” Jasper’s face twisted awkwardly, “You’re overthinking it. Whether you live or die has nothing to do with me. Even if you want to die, I wouldn’t stop you, but not today! I don’t want Sister Lydia thinking of you and being unhappy on her anniversary!” Of course, it was for Lydia. Seeing I didn’t respond, Jasper dragged me home. “Let’s go back. Today, you can’t die. If you really want to, find a place further away, at least where I won’t see you!” Jasper was strong, and I couldn’t break free. When we reached the Nolan Family’s door, we ran into my biological son, Declan, in this world. He wore a neat suit, looking incredibly handsome. He had rushed back from school, and upon seeing Jasper and me drenched, he gave me a quick glance but greeted Jasper, “Big Brother.” Jasper nodded in response. Declan then remarked, “Why are your clothes wet? Be careful not to catch a cold. Big Brother, change your clothes quickly. Sister Lydia and Dad’s wedding is about to start.” Throughout, he didn’t look at me once, as if I wasn’t his real mom but a stranger on the street. In the original story, Declan was lost by the original character at birth and grew up in an orphanage, developing an extremely gloomy personality. The heroine would be the only light in his life. But now that I’m here, I gave birth to him myself, and I have high hopes for him. In my vision, he and I were connected by blood, not merely characters in a story. He didn’t need me to “strategize” him, he would naturally be on my side. I cherished Declan like my own eyes, afraid he might get lost like in the book. I did everything myself to ensure his safe upbringing. Declan indeed grew up to be a cultured gentleman, unlike the delinquent in the book. He was humble, respectful to his parents, cared for his brothers, and even became a school leader. I never doubted I could handle my own son. But once Lydia appeared, my always considerate Declan turned into a different person. He began doing all the things I disapproved of to show his dissatisfaction and rebellion against me. “Why does Mom always have to go against Sister Lydia? Clearly, Mom is in the wrong!” I never expected that after reading so many books with Declan, all those principles would become weapons he used against me. “Mom is jealous of Sister Lydia, so she let her be kidnapped by bad people, showing no kindness. How can you be my Mom?” At the time, I stood there holding the nourishing soup I had gotten up early to make for him, feeling like I didn’t recognize the son I raised. He knocked the soup from my hands, saying he’d never eat anything I made again. My heart ached beyond words, and I slapped him. His eyes turned on me with hatred. Since then, we haven’t spoken a word to each other. Hearing Declan’s question, Jasper looked uncomfortable. “Just now… she really jumped.” Declan’s handsome brow furrowed slightly, his cold voice devoid of emotion. “Big Brother, don’t be fooled by her. With you there, how could she die? She’s just using women’s tricks, seeking death because Sister Lydia is entering the family. Do you think she could really give up the wealth and prosperity here…” Before Declan finished, I slammed my head against the doorpost. I sighed inwardly, hoping to die with some dignity, but these two boys were too noisy. Hot blood ran down my cheek, and the world went black. Before my consciousness completely faded, I seemed to hear someone scream “Mom” in agony.

When I opened my eyes again, my forehead throbbed. Above me was a modern and luxurious chandelier. I realized I had once again failed to leave this world. Every night, I teetered on the brink of death. This meant my time with my family in the original world was growing shorter. Time was incredibly precious to me. I stared at the chandelier, wondering if I could use it to end everything. Just as I moved, a hand tightly gripped mine. “Cora, stop fooling around, okay? Luckily, you’re weak, so you didn’t hit too hard. Otherwise, you’d have scared the two kids to death.” The speaker was my husband in this world, the company CEO, Nolan. At this moment, his brow was furrowed, his eyes locked on the bandage wrapped around my forehead. His gaze was deep, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking. In the original story, Nolan was the heroine’s most passionate admirer. Unable to attain his love, he eventually turned dark, even betraying the company and harming others to get closer to the heroine. When I first arrived, I drugged Nolan to prevent him from pursuing the heroine, cutting off the source of his later crimes. Nolan woke up wishing he could end me right there. I knew the story inside out, so I was sure the heroine wouldn’t be harmed. In the original story, Nolan was the heroine’s most ardent admirer. Unable to win her love, he eventually succumbed to darkness, even betraying the company and harming others just to be near her. The first thing I did upon entering this world was to incapacitate Nolan with a drug, preventing him from pursuing the heroine and cutting off the source of future crimes. When Nolan woke up, he was furious, wishing he could end me on the spot. I knew the plot of the book inside and out and was confident the heroine would not be harmed. It wasn’t until he saw the heroine and the male lead happily together that Nolan began to let go of his resentment towards me. He tried to understand me, cared for me, and even stood up for me during a difficult time when he mistakenly thought I was being bullied. During those challenging days, our hearts quietly drew closer. Later, I softened my demeanor, managed household affairs for Nolan, cared for the family, and raised the children. Nolan, like any ordinary husband who loves his wife, stayed by my side, promising to be together in the next life. The system informed me that the strategist’s favorability was steadily increasing and that my mission was nearing completion. At that time, my terminal illness in the real world would be cured, and I could choose to pause time in the real world to accompany the Nolan family through this happy life. However, an unexpected change came without warning. One stormy night, the heroine returned alone. She threw herself into Nolan’s arms, weeping and recounting the inhuman torment she had suffered over the years. Usually calm and composed, Nolan was moved to tears. When he learned of my actions that had maliciously hindered him, pushing her into a predicament, the Nolan family was furious. They carefully tended to Lydia at home and ignored me. On Declan’s birthday, I prepared a table full of dishes that the family loved, but no one returned even late into the night. It turned out they were out entertaining a despondent Lydia, just to cheer her up. When I gave birth to Declan, I endured pain all night before delivering. At that time, Nolan promised to celebrate with the children every year because I hadn’t left them. But now, they’ve all broken their promises. When the Nolan family returned, they merely said, “Lydia doesn’t like the dishes you made, so there’s no need to make them again.” Recalling these events, I coldly withdrew my hand from Nolan’s grip and calmly said, “I’m not being unreasonable. I just don’t want to live anymore…” Nolan suddenly became somewhat annoyed, leaning over to hold me tightly. I couldn’t break free, so I just let him. After a moment, he finally spoke, his tone tinged with helplessness. “Cora, stop saying things like that, and don’t use death to threaten me and the kids. Our feelings won’t change, and I’ll discipline the boys. You’re forever the mistress of this house.” Nolan’s words sounded sincere, as if he still loved me as before. But then he cautiously observed my expression and mentioned Lydia. “I’ve already promised, Lydia won’t take your place. You were unfair to her before; now she just wants a place to stay… So, where did you hide her? Tell me, and we can pretend nothing happened and continue living our simple life, okay?” I laughed coldly inside. Lydia has disappeared again? Nolan still thinks I did it? Seeing me laugh, Nolan could no longer feign indifference, his tone becoming urgent. “Cora, stop pretending. I’ve searched, and Lydia’s jewelry is clearly hidden in your room’s closet. Both of you disappeared early this morning… Tell me, where did you hide Lydia?” It seems Lydia can’t wait to drive me away, even using her wedding as a ploy. After all, as the heroine, she craves attention and can’t share a man with another woman. What she wants is to be the only one in the hearts of the Nolan family. I suddenly burst into laughter, “Ha, yes, I did it. Lydia is dead! I’m just jealous of her, so I killed her. Do you want to avenge her? Then kill me unless you can’t bear to.” Nolan would do anything for Lydia. As long as he kills me, I can go home. Nolan was clearly enraged and lost his mind, gripping my neck with his hands. “Cora! How did you become like this… Lydia has suffered enough, why do you keep tormenting her?” In reality, it wasn’t me who changed, but them, the father and sons. I didn’t resist, letting my breath gradually weaken. Finally, everything will end. The door was suddenly pushed open, and Jasper and Declan helped Lydia inside.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295616”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic

On the day I turned eighteen, I was kidnapped. The kidnappers called Theo, demanding 60 million as ransom. “The notable second son of the Taylor family, surely you wouldn’t hesitate to spare 60 million for a young girlfriend? Such a pretty girl, it’d be a shame if she were to end up a mess!” I lay there with a dislocated shoulder, crying and begging Theo on the phone to save me. But he just asked the kidnappers with chilling indifference, “What makes her worth 60 million?” Enraged, the kidnappers broke three of my fingers. I could never play the piano I loved again. When I saw him again later, I addressed him politely and distantly as “Mr. Theo.” He cornered me in a room, gently caressed my face, and softly coaxed, “Sound, be good. Call me Third Brother like before, okay?” “Sound, we’re in Seaside City now.” As the plane landed with a slight jolt, the nightmare dragged me into an even darker abyss. Thankfully, my assistant woke me up just in time. I seemed to have dreamt about what happened six years ago again. That feeling of fear, helplessness, and despair brought tears to my eyes once more. Seaside City. A place of decadence, filled with schemes and devoid of warmth. If it weren’t for helping Asher secure resources for his new movie, I wouldn’t have returned here. After leaving the airport, the car my assistant arranged hadn’t arrived yet. Just as I was about to hail a taxi, I heard a hesitant voice behind me, “Miss Fiona?” I turned around, freezing in place. It was Uncle Nolan, Theo’s driver since he was fifteen. Behind him was a Phantom. I immediately noticed the familiar license plate: 1108, November 8th, Theo’s birthday. My heart gave a slight tremor. As the car window slowly lowered, that familiar face appeared before me. “Sound?” Theo sat inside, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a perfectly sculpted collarbone. He no longer had the sharp arrogance from six years ago but seemed more cool and reserved. Under his slanting brows were deep, captivating eyes. Six years had passed, yet he still looked like a delicate ink painting, sending chills through my body. I never expected to run into him on such an ordinary afternoon. “You’re back?” His expression was appropriate and natural, as if I had just been on a trip. He seemed to forget that six years ago, I was in that cold, damp, filthy room, my arms dislocated, crying and begging him to save me. He used the same indifferent tone to tell those kidnappers, “What makes her worth 60 million?” “Little girlfriend? You’re overthinking it. I, Theo, wouldn’t bother to spend 60 million on someone irrelevant. If you want it, ask the Lewis family.” He knew perfectly well how difficult my situation was with the Lewis family. I yelled into the phone, “Third Brother! Consider this 60 million a loan from you. I’ll pay it back! Please, don’t abandon me!” A few seconds later, I heard him sneer, “You’ve been calling me Third Brother for years, and you really think of yourself as part of the Taylor family? Know your place. Stop bothering me, do as you wish.” The last sentence was directed at the kidnappers. I stared blankly as the call ended. It was my only hope. Theo personally snuffed it out. Later, the furious kidnappers broke three of my finger bones. They even considered assaulting me and sending the video to Theo. Fortunately, the leader remembered Theo mentioning I was from the Lewis family. They hesitated, not daring to offend both the Taylor and Lewis families. In the end, it was Phoebe, whom I always looked down on, who, under Mr. Lewis’s orders, paid to have me released. She untied me, then slapped me hard. “Fiona! You’re such a curse!” In the past, I would’ve hit back. Theo would always stand behind me, calmly telling me to retaliate against anyone who bullied me. He was always my biggest support. But now, I owed the Lewis family 60 million. The person who once said he’d be my support for life didn’t even show up. Phoebe mocked me then, “Just an abandoned child the Lewis family doesn’t want, yet you dare to think you can have the Taylor family’s prince? Who gave you the face?!” I calmly retorted, “Just because I can call him Third Brother, and you can’t.” But Phoebe sneered, “You’re just a diversion in Theo’s boring life. Do you really think you’re that important?” She didn’t know that someone as proud as Theo once knelt on one knee to massage my sprained ankle. Thinking back, the confidence I had then only made me feel more ridiculous now.

“Where to? I’ll take you.” Theo’s cool voice pulled me back to the present. The cold, dull pain from my right hand’s three fingers returned. I hid my trembling hand in my pocket, stepping back to increase the distance from him. “Thank you, Mr. Theo, but there’s no need. I’ve called for a car.” He chuckled softly, his voice resonating like a cello. Theo spoke with some helpless reproach, “Been wild for a few years, and you don’t even call me Third Brother anymore?” My nose tingled. I couldn’t help but mock, “How could I dare to call you Third Brother? Mr. Theo, did you forget six years ago when you told me to know my place? I might not have many skills, but my memory is good. One lesson and I’ll never forget. I even have to thank Mr. Theo for such a vivid lesson. Truly benefited greatly.” I regretted it immediately after saying it. I’d held onto that for years, and he knew it as soon as he heard it. Theo looked up at me, a storm brewing in his eyes. After a while, as my palms began to sweat, he finally spoke softly, “…You sly girl, sharp-tongued.” Then he tapped on the car window, “Uncle Nolan, let’s go.” Watching the car drive away, I finally exhaled. Six years. Over two thousand days and nights, and when he appeared before me again, I was utterly defeated. My assistant cautiously watched my expression, hesitantly asking, “Fiona, I heard you call him Mr. Theo? In Seaside City, with the surname Taylor, could it be…?” Seeing me nod, the assistant’s eyes widened. “I heard that Theo’s investing in Asher’s new movie. Since you know Mr. Theo, why go through the trouble of meeting Nolan?” “I’ll never ask Theo for help!” I sharply interrupted the assistant. She shrank back, “I understand.” The car finally arrived. I composed myself, picking up my suitcase. “Call Mr. Nolan’s secretary and tell her we’ve arrived. Please arrange a meeting with Mr. Nolan.” After instructing the assistant, I leaned back in the car’s rear seat, closing my eyes to rest. Our first confrontation left me exhausted. And of course, someone had to add fuel to the fire. Zane’s call was relentless, like a haunting curse. I sighed, admitting defeat. “Hello? You better have a good reason for calling. I just sat through a four-hour flight and I’m very tired.” She laughed. “More tired than dealing with my Third Brother?” “Where are you hiding, watching the show?” Zane “tsk”ed several times, speaking mysteriously. “Today’s a high-level meeting at Quinn Enterprises. My uncle, father, second brother, and fourth brother are all present. It’s the most important meeting of the year for Third Brother, but he’s constantly checking his watch, distracted. As the head of the group, he was eager to leave halfway. Guess why?” I wouldn’t be naive enough to think it was because of me. “Zane, you know I’m not very curious. I have things to do, see you.” Zane shouted anxiously over the phone, “Hey! Sound! My Third Brother…” I decisively hung up the call. With Zane knowing I was back in Seaside City, there’d be no peace. I had a headache. Things needed to move quickly. If this negotiation went well, Asher could achieve significant career advancement with this movie. Although he always said he didn’t mind staying in the second tier, I felt indebted. Asher had helped me so much over the years. I just wanted to repay him. This time, I finally managed to get a chance to talk to Nolan from StarSource Productions. I had to seize this opportunity. In the end, my assistant and Mr. Nolan’s secretary arranged for us to meet for dinner the day after tomorrow. After placing my luggage at the hotel, I decided to visit the Lewis family. Nolan wasn’t someone easy to fool. To get resources from him, I needed something from the Lewis family to boost my worth.

My name is Fiona Lin. I’ve always known my “Lin” comes from the renowned prominent family in Seaside City. But they’ve never acknowledged me. Until I was ten. The Lewis family suddenly came to Oakridge to find Grandma and take me back. I held Grandma’s hand, crying and refusing to go. Grandma, tears flowing, held me tight with her frail hands. “Sound, go! The Lewis family can give you the best education and let you continue piano lessons. Grandma’s useless, can’t give you anything.” I was taken into the Lewis family’s car, my cries echoing against the window. In the back seat, an older man spoke calmly. “Doesn’t your Grandma have kidney disease and can’t afford dialysis? If you come back with me, I’ll ensure she gets it every week.” Later, I found out he was my grandfather, the head of the Lewis family, a man who thrived on manipulating people’s lives. And I was just a ten-year-old child. I returned with him to the Lewis household. As I stood in the grand hall, people around me pointed and mocked with disdain. “Did she pick that outfit from the trash? Goodness, it even has patches!” “Her shoes are filthy. I can smell the stench from here.” “Born from filth, what else would you expect from the likes of her?” The harshest words came from Phoebe’s mother. She despised me. My mother, a bar pianist, fell in love with my father at first sight, and soon after, I was born. But a family like the Lewis’s would never accept her. My father loved her deeply, so much that he renounced his status as a Lewis to be with her in Oakridge. If only the story ended there. But life is never that serene. Grandpa threatened my father with my mother’s safety, forcing him back to the Lewis family to marry Phoebe’s mother. My mother fell into a deep depression and died shortly after giving birth to me. When my father heard of her passing, he went to her grave in Oakridge and took his own life. At that time, Phoebe’s mother was six months pregnant. In his farewell note, he wrote that he had fulfilled his obligations to the Lewis family. That poor woman went mad, transforming from a graceful lady to a bitter, spiteful woman. She hated my father, hated my mother, and hated me. But they were gone, so she unleashed her hatred on me. Someone had to bear her torment and share her pain. Hatred needs an outlet. Otherwise, how could she combat the solitude that crept into her bones at night? But what was my fault? I was just an infant, my mother gone, my father choosing death over raising me. Where could I vent my grievances? Moreover, she knew full well that my father had my mother and me before her. She also knew my father didn’t love her, yet she followed her family’s arrangement to marry him for an alliance. Life is about choices. No one else is to blame. When Grandpa declared that I would stay with the Lewis family, she lost her last shred of dignity. “Dad! You promised me you’d never give this wretched child a single dime! And now you’re bringing her into our home, isn’t that a slap in the face?” Grandpa coughed heavily, “Declan is at a critical juncture. If it’s discovered that we abandoned our own flesh and blood, how would Declan continue his path?” That’s my Grandpa for you. Every step he takes is calculated and strategic. “Declan, Declan! He’s all you care about! I’ve been a widow in this house for almost ten years! Ten years!” Watching the hysterical woman before me, I quietly picked up my luggage and stood aside. I’m not foolish. Grandma’s dialysis costs depended on the Lewis family. Ten years of hardship taught me to be adaptable. What does it matter if I’m scolded or hated? Grandma’s illness is the most important. In Oakridge, each dialysis session costs five hundred. She needs at least two sessions a week. I don’t have the luxury to turn away from harsh words with flair. In this world, everything has a price. Including pride and dignity. And that’s when Theo entered my life.

Phoebe’s mom hurled the vilest insults at me, calling me a lowly tramp like my mom, saying I should have died with my parents, rotting in the mud. Grandpa couldn’t stop her. I pretended not to hear. Go on, curse all you want. I’m staying with the Lewis family anyway. The more you curse, the longer Grandma lives. Until someone chuckled from the corner of the sofa. Everyone’s eyes turned to him. He stood up lazily, straightening his wrinkled shirt. “Mr. Lewis, your house is quite lively today. I see you have a lot to handle, let’s reschedule our meeting about the land in East City.” Grandpa was startled, having forgotten there was an outsider in the mansion. “Theo, sorry for the oversight. You should head back today; I’ll invite you to the garden for tea another day.” He strode over to me. “Excuse me, your bag is in my way.” Oh, sorry. I obediently moved my luggage aside. He gave me a meaningful look, muttering softly, “Let’s see how long you can keep this up…” Then he turned to Grandpa with a smile, “I heard Declan is about to get promoted. Congratulations in advance. A scandal wouldn’t be good right now. Mr. Lewis, you should keep an eye on your backyard.” Grandpa’s face turned dark as he saw him out. Turning back, he slammed his tiger-head cane on the ground and pointed at Phoebe’s mom, scolding her. “You’re a disgrace! Embarrassing us in front of the Taylor family, get inside!” She wanted to retort but was silenced by Grandpa’s fierce glare, reluctantly taking Phoebe with her. “Wait,” Grandpa stopped her, rubbing his temples tiredly. “I know this is hard on you, but we can’t let anything jeopardize Declan. Haven’t you always wanted that Rongxi Jewelry under my name? I’ll transfer it to you the day after tomorrow.” Her expression softened. “Thank you, Dad.” I secretly rolled my eyes. See, in this world, everything has a price. With that jewelry store, Phoebe’s mom was appeased and would mostly ignore me. But Phoebe never knew when to quit. Even at a young age, she had a knack for making people’s lives difficult. She’d pour water on my bedding, dump my tests in the toilet, and let the Lewis family dog drink from my cup. Once, she tossed an expensive hairpin into my coat pocket and then told Grandpa it was stolen. When they found it in my coat, her face was smug and arrogant. Everyone could see her framing me, but no one would blame her. She told everyone I was a thief. People in their circle all hated me. Except Theo. When Phoebe tried to slander me, he’d laugh, “If I were her, I’d steal money instead of some worthless hairpin. That’d be brainless.” The Taylor and Lewis families had a long-standing relationship. He was very respected in their circle. Phoebe always clung to Theo, but he found her too young to hang out with. His defense of me fueled her resentment. Grandpa enrolled me in top-notch piano lessons, and the teacher was very strict about punctuality. If a student was late, they wouldn’t be accepted, no matter who vouched for them. So when Phoebe got my schedule, she deliberately sabotaged all the car tires at home when I had class. The Lewis mansion was over ten kilometers from the piano teacher’s studio in the city center. I bit my lip, ready to run the distance. Just then, Theo, finishing his business at the Lewis’s, saw me. He called out to me. “You’ll be late even if you run till your legs give out. My car’s by the riverside, I’ll take you.” I turned back, surprised. Phoebe cried, “Third Brother, why do you always help her?” Theo glanced at her, his tone cold, “Third Brother? Who said you could call me that?” She was startled, sobbing quietly. He walked over to me, frowning, “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.” His presence was intimidating; I shrank back, quickly following, thanking him as I went. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor.” “…Stop babbling.” He suddenly spoke from the back seat. “The softest fruit gets squeezed first. Do you want to be trampled forever?” I saw his disapproving eyes in the rearview mirror. Only then did I realize his annoyance was because I didn’t fight back. “Thank you, Mr. Theo.” “…Stop rambling.” Even though he’s only twenty, he’s already experienced in negotiations alongside his father. That’s why I address him as Mr. Theo. It seems like a respectful title, but he still looks displeased. Feeling defeated, I opened the passenger door and got in. From the back seat, he unexpectedly said, “The weakest get trampled on first. Do you want to be walked over your whole life?” I caught his frustrated expression in the rearview mirror. It dawned on me that his annoyance was because I hadn’t stood up for myself earlier.

Once I got involved with Theo, Cora began to dislike me even more. She would deliberately stop the staff from saving me dinner when I practiced piano and would secretly take or tear up my homework. At school, she teamed up with other wealthy kids to bully me, splashing dirty mop water on me and then strutting past with their noses in the air. I complained to Grandpa. But he just shrugged it off, saying, “It’s just Cora being playful. You’re older, you should let her.” He forgot that I’m only a year older. Besides, she has friends to share with, a mother to spoil her, and a grandpa to back her up. I have nothing here. I could only endure it and hope she’d tire of her pranks soon. But continually giving in only encourages a bully. At thirteen, I signed up for the Seaside City Piano Competition. The night before the contest, she shredded the dress I was supposed to wear and poured laxatives into my milk. I caught her in the act. For this competition, I’d practiced until 1 or 2 AM every night. The gold prize came with a reward of 30,000 yuan. I wanted to give it to Grandma. When I saw Cora showing no shame despite being caught, I lost my temper for the first time. I pushed her hard and scolded her, “The Lewis family has raised you with such poor manners!” She was shocked that I dared to retaliate and lunged at me, trying to pull my hair. I grabbed her hands, turned my back, and threw her over my shoulder, slamming her to the ground. In Oakridge, I used to carry dozens of pounds of waste, so dealing with a pampered girl was no challenge. “Cora, is bullying the weak your idea of pride? Do you think I won’t hit you back? I don’t punish you because I pity you for not having a father, just like me! Remember, I owe nothing to your mom or you! From today, I won’t tolerate you anymore. You better behave!” Cora noticed the cup of milk on the table. Milk splashed all over her head and face, leaving her in a mess. She froze for a moment, then covered her face and started crying. I turned to leave. When I looked back, Theo was watching me with interest. “Oh, the new little wildcat finally showed her claws? Pretty sharp ones too.” He’s known for being rebellious and unpredictable. Although he had hinted I should fight back, he’s known Cora for years. Surely, he wouldn’t hit me for her sake. I stiffened and walked past him without looking, trying to keep my face calm. I hoped my composure would intimidate him a bit. As I passed, he chuckled and called out, “Hey, your walk is off.” “…” He crossed his arms and said from behind, “Well done. That’s how you do it. Fight back if someone bullies you.” In the Lewis family, rare acts of kindness came from him. A fleeting sadness crossed his face, disappearing almost instantly. Later, I learned he had a similar childhood. With no one to protect him, he stumbled and grew into someone nobody dared to mess with. “You have to stand tall so everyone looks up to you rather than looking down.” Watching him walk away, it felt like something hit my chest. That night, a brand-new dress appeared in my room. The card read: [Good luck tomorrow, wildcat with the funny walk.] I pressed the card to my heart and had the sweetest sleep. The next day, after the competition, I stood on stage with the gold trophy, enviously watching other winners receive flowers and blessings from family and friends, feeling a sense of loneliness. As I exited the venue, Theo stood at the bottom of the long stairs, smiling and waving at me. “Fiona, come over here to your third brother.” His words left me dazed. Theo was third in the Taylor family. Everyone knew only those he approved of could call him “third brother.” The trunk of his car was filled with flowers. Among them was a small cake. On top, it read [TO: Fiona]. The cake was small, the words scrawled crookedly. Yet, my eyes welled up, and I hugged my trophy, sobbing.

Later, Theo told me back then, he was at a loss. The little wildcat’s sharp claws were intriguing, but when she hid them and showed vulnerability, it made his heart inexplicably nervous. When I received the prize money, Theo took me back to Oakridge. I placed the newspaper-wrapped 30,000 yuan in front of Grandma. She was shocked at the amount, then stuffed it back into my school bag. “Fiona, Grandma has money. You need it more at the Lewis family.” “Grandma, keep it! I’ll earn more in the future! Right, third brother?” Theo smiled warmly. “Yes, Grandma, it’s Fiona’s hard-earned reward from winning the piano competition.” On the way back, I was in high spirits. I hopped all the way from the Seaside City riverside to the Lewis family mansion because I realized I could earn money without relying on them. I’d really grown some skills. A whole 30,000 yuan! If I participated in more competitions, I could soon save enough for Grandma’s kidney transplant. After I taught Cora a lesson, she never troubled me again. She even awkwardly asked if I had piano lessons and if I needed dinner saved for me. The young girl entering puberty started showing some softness. The future held a bit of hope. Lost in my happy thoughts, I didn’t notice and missed a step. Theo caught me. His angelic face was only eight inches away from mine. My heart pounded wildly in my chest. The unfamiliar sensation scared me, and I pushed him away. But as soon as my foot hit the ground, a sharp pain shot through me. I fell. Theo frowned, lifted my ankle, and said, “How old are you? How can you sprain your foot on a road like this?” He knelt, scolding me while carefully removing my sock and gently massaging my ankle. “Bear with it, don’t cry, it will get better.” The skin on my ankle inexplicably heated. I stared blankly at the top of his head and his slightly red ears. A girl’s heart fluttered like cherry blossoms in March, disturbing the spring water. Before I could think, the confession slipped out. “Third brother, I like you.” He rolled his eyes. “Young girl, what do you know about liking?” Liking doesn’t have an age limit. I was certain of my feelings at that moment. I’m not a reserved girl. If I like someone, I’ll say it. At first, he treated it as a joke. Later, he looked at me helplessly. “Fiona, I’m eight years older than you. You’re young and don’t understand real liking.” Again with the age thing. I began to compete with him over this. That year on my birthday, Theo asked what I wished for. I lay on the table, grinning at him. “I wish the third brother would like me too.” He facepalmed speechlessly. Every birthday after that, I would ask him, “Third brother, I’m a year older now. Can you like me?” His silence grew longer each year, but his refusal remained unchanged. “Fiona, you’re still young.” I didn’t mind and blew out the candles, going about my business. I’d grow up someday. By the sixth year, I no longer needed to confess.

I still remember my 18th birthday was a perfectly clear day. Seaside City in June was unbearably hot. The cicadas’ cries marked the start of the SATs. Over the years, thanks to Theo’s special treatment, I slowly became accepted in their circle. His cousin Zane even became a good friend. Except for Cora. Our relationship, which had improved slightly, fractured again as Theo and I grew closer. I knew she had liked Theo since childhood. She scolded me for being so high-profile, saying I’d end up crying one day. I didn’t take it seriously, thinking it was just jealous talk from a girl unable to get what she wanted. But I forgot she’d been in this circle much longer than me. She saw the looming crisis more clearly. Theo had mentioned he’d give me an unforgettable birthday this year. I already had a vague idea of what he planned to do. I’ve known since childhood that she’s had a crush on Theo. She scolded me, saying that someone with my status shouldn’t make such a big deal out of a confession. “Fiona Lin, nobody in our circle dares to treat Theo like that. With your high-profile antics, you’re bound to end up crying one day!” I didn’t pay it any mind, thinking it was just jealousy from a girl who couldn’t have what she wanted. But I forgot that she’d been part of this world much longer than I had and could see the hidden dangers more clearly. Theo had already told me that this year, he was going to make my birthday unforgettable. I had a hunch about what he was planning. Last year, when I confessed, he turned me down with “You’re still young,” but now it had shifted to “Let’s talk when you’re older.” When people mentioned me in his presence, they’d tease him with, “Your Fiona.” He would just smile without further explanation. His behavior seemed to announce one thing: I was no longer just admiring him from afar. So, this year, I started looking forward to my birthday days in advance. On that day, I wore the brightest yellow sundress in my wardrobe, applied a bit of lipstick, and left home in high spirits. Theo had been busy with a deal for his company, Jing’an International, so I didn’t ask him to pick me up. Instead, the Lewis family driver took me to our meeting place. But as soon as the car got onto the Seaside City Bridge, two vans blocked us. The driver slammed on the brakes, nearly throwing me forward. Before I could grasp what was happening, five or six men rushed out of the vans, yanked open my car door, and dragged me out. They looked fierce and menacing, and fear gripped my heart. Then, a handkerchief with a strong medicinal smell covered my face. I heard one of them say, “Grab this girl’s phone and call Theo. See if he wants this gift.” My heart sank. I knew the acquisition he was working on was challenging, and the other party had even roped in some shady characters to deal with him. If my guess was right, they planned to use me to force Theo to abandon the acquisition. “Hey, Fiona—” I managed to call out “third brother” before I completely lost consciousness. When I woke up, it was pitch dark. Several unfamiliar faces were smirking at me. I struggled wildly, my wrists chafed painfully by the ropes. One of them cursed, walked over, pinned me to the ground, and twisted my shoulders harshly. My screams echoed in the dilapidated house. My dislocated arms hung limply, and I lost the strength to struggle. The kidnappers picked up my phone and called Theo again, demanding 60 million in ransom. If he chose to save me, the 60 million shortfall would force him to abandon the acquisition, affecting Jing’an’s future and his business empire. I was lost in thought when I heard a response on the other end of the line. Theo’s voice was distant and cold, “60 million?” Then there was a long, dead silence. My heart turned cold inch by inch. “Third brother…” I murmured. Did I overestimate my importance? Would he really exchange part of his business empire for me? The kidnappers lost patience. “I heard this girl is a piano prodigy? Heh, Mr. Theo, what do you say if a pianist loses her hands?” I saw him press down on my hand and raise a hammer high. It hurt so much. It really did. I curled up, convulsing in pain. The sound of bones breaking and flesh being crushed echoed in my ears. Cold sweat soaked my dress. I screamed in agony. The kidnapper laughed into the phone, “Mr. Theo, does it sound good? If you don’t speak, I’ll hit again!” I cried to Theo on the phone, “Third brother, I beg you to save me! They’ll really cripple my hands!” The kidnapper taunted, “Come on, the prominent second son of the Taylor family, won’t you even spare 60 million for your little girlfriend?” Theo laughed. “Little girlfriend? You’re thinking too much. Everyone knows that we Taylors always marry into the Carter family. If my fiancée hears this, I’ll be in trouble.”

The three kidnappers were stunned. “Boss, did we grab the wrong person?” The leader scowled, “Impossible! I saw the photo. It’s this girl!” “But didn’t Theo just say he’s marrying into the Carter family?” “The Taylors are masters at playing with people’s hearts. You believe him? Theo, if you don’t pay, this girl’s other fingers won’t be safe!” I lay on the ground, waves of excruciating pain washing over me. I couldn’t help but beg him again. “Third brother, consider this 60 million a loan from you. I’ll definitely pay you back! Please, don’t leave me!” Theo was silent for a few seconds, then chuckled. “You’ve been calling me third brother for years, and you really think you’re a Taylor? You don’t even know your place. You’re just a plaything I use to amuse myself when I’m bored, no different from a cat or a dog. 60 million? Are you worth it? Alright, everyone, I have things to do. Do as you please. If you want money, go to the Lewis family. Don’t bother me again.” Listening to the busy tone on the phone, I felt utterly hopeless. After hanging up, the enraged kidnappers broke two more of my finger bones. I curled up in agony, my dress bunched up to my waist. One of them leered, tossing aside the hammer and moving to undress me. “Since this girl isn’t Theo’s woman, I might as well have some fun!” The sound of ripping fabric was clear. His rough fingers trailed across my chest. I was completely desperate. I glared at the man in front of me. Even if I were to die, I would take one down with me! He buried his face in my neck, biting randomly. I turned my head and bit his ear hard. “Ah! You bitch! You want to die!” He punched my chest and stomach, making my vision go dark, but I kept my bite until his ear bled profusely. He finally broke free, then kicked my ribs hard. I heard a crisp crack. The man raised the hammer high, aiming at my head. I closed my eyes. The leader suddenly stopped him. “Wait! What did Theo just say? Go to the Lewis family for money? What does this girl have to do with the Lewis family? We caught her near the Seaside City Bridge, by the Lewis mansion! Girl, are you from the Lewis family?” I spat out blood, my voice faint, “Didn’t you… do any research before kidnapping someone? My grandfather is Mr. Lewis. Can you really afford to offend both the Taylors and the Lewis family?” The kidnapper leader stared at me darkly. After a while, he said, “Keep an eye on her. I’ll make a call.” I breathed a sigh of relief. At least my life was spared for now. I never imagined that, in Theo’s heart, I meant nothing. My hands, my life, he didn’t care at all. I had been in Seaside City for eight years, and he was the one who had given me the most warmth and protection. I trusted him too much. For many years after, I couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if Theo had chosen to save me. I would have been eternally grateful to him. My simple affection would have turned into a god-like dependence and love. With the power of the Lewis and Taylor families, they could have found the best doctors in the world to heal my fingers. I would still be the dazzling Fiona Lin. But Theo abandoned me. Once, Phoebe told me I was just a surprise, an interlude in Theo’s otherwise monotonous life. Vibrant, lively, interesting. But that was all. I foolishly hoped he would love me. This was the punishment given by fate. Three broken fingers taught me a harsh truth.

Later, I didn’t know how the kidnappers contacted the Lewis family. When I woke up again, Phoebe had brought several bodyguards to rescue me. The kidnappers were nowhere to be seen. As soon as she saw me, she slapped me hard. “Fiona Lin! You’re such a disaster! Didn’t I warn you not to be so high-profile in this circle? Did you listen?!” She untied my ropes, her tears falling onto me. “I don’t want to be picking up your body next time!” I smiled at Phoebe from the back of a bodyguard. “I owe you my life, sister.” Blood is thicker than water, after all. However, when I returned to the Lewis family, Grandpa just gave me a cold glance and sent me back to Oakridge. “Fiona, everyone knows you’ve been kidnapped for three days. You’re a girl, you know what people will think. Your third uncle has already drawn enough attention because of this case, and it’s not good for the Lewis family. Our family is already in turmoil and can’t afford any more gossip.” Even Phoebe couldn’t stand it. “Grandpa! What gossip could be more important than family health and safety? Besides, sending her away now only confirms those nasty rumors!” “Fiona, everyone knows you were held captive for three days. As a young woman, you’re aware of the assumptions people will make.” “Your uncle has already been under intense scrutiny because of this incident. This is not beneficial for the Lewis family. Our family is already on shaky ground, and we cannot withstand any more rumors.” Phoebe finally couldn’t stay silent. “Grandpa! What rumors could be more important than the safety and well-being of our own family? Plus, sending her away now would only validate those terrible rumors!” His response was a stern reprimand. “What do you kids know? I have my own arrangements. Focus on your studies; that’s what truly matters!” He took a deep breath and turned to me. “Return to Oakridge. With your grandma looking after you, I’ll be more at ease.” I let out a bitter chuckle. I was well aware of Grandpa’s indifference. What I didn’t foresee was that he wouldn’t even bother to help treat my dislocated finger. My belongings were hastily packed and placed by the front gate. Grandpa arranged for two bodyguards to escort me back to Oakridge overnight. I didn’t go straight home. In this condition, I would frighten Grandma. I borrowed a phone from one of the bodyguards and called Asher. Even though he immediately took me to the best hospital in Oakridge, my finger was not treated in time due to the delay. Now, it shakes uncontrollably. It doesn’t significantly impact my daily activities, but it’s not as agile as before. I know that from now on, I can no longer play the piano.

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My best friend and I married into the same wealthy family, becoming sisters-in-law. Shortly after, we both became pregnant. Our in-laws announced a million-dollar reward for whoever gave birth to a son. On the day I delivered, my friend, who had just undergone a C-section, came to my bedside and switched my son with her daughter. Twenty years later, after her son had caused a major scandal, she proudly declared in front of everyone, pointing at my academically excellent daughter: “Actually, this is my biological child!” I smiled and replied, “They say children often resemble their uncles. If your son shaved his head, he’d look exactly like your brother!” “Indeed, he is your biological son…” At the hospital room door, I saw a woman in a patient gown, hunched over and carrying a thick bundle. I quickly closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. She entered, just as I expected. Even while enduring the pain from her C-section, she had come to switch our babies for the million-dollar reward. After she left, I looked at my fair-skinned daughter with love. Caressing her face, I whispered, “That scrawny, premature boy can go to whoever wants him.” Two hours later, my husband and in-laws arrived. My room was quiet, with only my husband, the nurse, and me present. Olivia’s room, on the other hand, was bustling with our in-laws, sister-in-law, and a crowd of relatives. My husband looked uncomfortable and tried to comfort me, “It’s okay, Emma. Our little princess has us, and that’s enough.” I patted his hand and said, “The surgery has left me weak. Since Olivia has the energy, let her entertain the guests.” That night, after running around switching babies and greeting visitors, Olivia suffered severe bleeding and was rushed back to surgery.

A year ago, shortly after I married into the wealthy family, Olivia would cry in front of me every day. She accused me of forgetting our promise to “stay friends even in wealth and success.” Seeing her strange, heavy makeup and exaggerated expressions, I remembered how she had cut ties with all our old classmates after marrying a nouveau riche man five or six years ago. I could only laugh it off and deny her accusations. To my surprise, within two weeks, she had hooked up with my gambling-addicted brother-in-law. When our in-laws disapproved, she got pregnant and forced a shotgun wedding. Her baby was due just a month after mine. Our in-laws were thrilled to have two pregnant daughters-in-law and announced the million-dollar reward for a grandson. I didn’t care much, as I hadn’t married my husband for his family’s wealth. I would be happy with either a son or a daughter. Olivia, however, was obsessed. She consulted fortune tellers who all said she was carrying a girl. She spent a fortune on rituals to change her luck, but to no avail. All this stress led to her being hospitalized for a month to protect the pregnancy. As my due date approached, I noticed Olivia constantly staring at my belly. My maternal instincts kicked in, and I became wary. Sure enough, on the day my water broke, Olivia arrived at the hospital right after me. She insisted on having a C-section that day, claiming it was an auspicious date. After my daughter was born, I took the opportunity to switch her son with my daughter when no one was looking. So, the baby Olivia took was actually her own son.

On the babies’ one-month birthday celebration, the family mansion was decorated lavishly, with luxury cars lining the driveway and guests filling the halls. Olivia’s “little prince” wore a bright yellow traditional outfit, which only made his complexion look darker. My daughter wore a simple pink dress, prioritizing comfort. Our in-laws had arranged stacks of cash totaling a million dollars on a long table. Olivia’s family hovered around it, as if afraid someone might steal a bundle. I rolled my eyes. How petty, I thought. Everyone here is wealthy; no one cares about your measly sum. When my mother-in-law placed a palm-sized solid gold charm necklace around Olivia’s son’s neck, Olivia immediately removed it and insisted on putting it on my daughter. “Boys are tough; this charm would be better for Sophia,” she said, taking the hollow gold charm from my daughter’s neck. Everyone praised her for being so considerate. I played along, saying, “You’re so good to Sophia, someone might think she’s your own daughter!” Olivia hesitated for a moment, then looked at my daughter with affection. “Of course, we’re best friends and sisters-in-law now. I just adore Sophia.” I blocked her hand as she reached out to touch my daughter. “Olivia, your son is crying. You should check on him.”

When the children were two years old, they were playing in the courtyard. Hearing a commotion, Olivia and I rushed downstairs. Seeing my daughter’s face scratched and bleeding, I held her silently, my face grim. Olivia went berserk, slapping her son Tyler hard across the face multiple times. His face swelled up immediately, and he cried uncontrollably. Despite the beating, he reached out to Olivia, sobbing, “Mommy, hug me.” Olivia kicked him away, “You little bastard! How dare you hurt Sophia? I’ll cut off your hands!” Hearing this, my daughter started crying in fear. Olivia glanced at her and became even angrier. She grabbed Tyler’s head and shoved it into the swimming pool. “You worthless piece of shit! You deserve to be punished! If Sophia’s face scars, I’ll kill you!” She only let go when the boy’s little hands stopped flailing. Seeing him sink to the bottom of the pool, I quickly pulled him out. The child coughed and sputtered water after being rescued. Olivia held my daughter, comforting her softly. I snorted coldly. Was she trying to kill a two-year-old child for making a mistake? She thought this was my son, which is why she treated him this way. If my daughter had been in her care, she might have suffered an even worse fate. “Olivia, no matter what Tyler did wrong, he’s still your own son. You almost killed him,” I said. She didn’t even look up. “If he dies, it’s his bad luck. We can always have another one.” Her words proved true. She got pregnant again, this time with a boy.

Our in-laws were overjoyed, saying they’d give her a million dollars for every son she bore. “The more children, the more blessings,” they said. “Have ten if you want!” Because of this, she treated Tyler even worse. After all, she had already spent the first million dollars. She had used the money to pay off her brother’s gambling debts, but he had since accumulated more. Her mother frequently came asking for money, insisting that her brother was even dearer than her own son. Years ago, when she was dating rich men to buy her brother phones and computers, I had warned her. Being excessively devoted to her brother would only lead to loss. She accused me of trying to ruin her relationship with her brother and cut off contact with me. Now, she came crying to me about her family bleeding her dry to support her brother. I advised her, “He’s your brother. If you don’t take care of him, who will? I’ve heard debt collectors use brutal methods these days. If they come to your in-laws, they’ll be very unhappy.” Olivia’s monthly allowance was only a few thousand dollars, far from enough to cover her brother’s expenses. So she set her sights on having more children for the rewards.

When Sophia was eight and starting elementary school, she suddenly had to be hospitalized. The doctor said it was a severe allergic reaction. Olivia arrived at the hospital before me. When I got there, she was arguing with the doctor: “She’s allergic to mangoes! How can it be this severe? You incompetent doctors! Use the most expensive medicine!” “If she suffers any more, I’ll shut down this entire hospital!” A nurse tried to calm her down, “Ma’am, please don’t worry. We’ve already treated her. She’ll be fine soon.” Olivia shouted, “It’s easy for you to say! What if it was your daughter lying there?” The doctors and nurses fell silent, not wanting to argue further. I ran over, caught my breath, and patted the nurse’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m the child’s mother. Thank you for your help. Please, go attend to your other patients.” The doctor who had been yelled at looked confused. “Then who is this lady?” I forced a smile, “She’s the child’s aunt.” The doctor and nurse looked at Olivia, then left with expressions that suggested they thought she was mentally unstable. As he was leaving, the doctor said, “Ma’am, our hospital has an excellent psychiatric department. If you’re often overly anxious or stressed, you might want to consider a consultation.”

After Sophia was discharged, she stayed home from school for a few days to recover. During this time, Olivia nearly turned the school upside down. She reported the principal and teachers to the education bureau, accusing them of allowing students to poison others at school. She even hired tabloid reporters to interview people at the school. Banners were hung all over the school grounds: “Unethical school endangers my daughter’s life!” “Corrupt principal allows poisoning and protects the culprit!” “Immoral teachers abuse students!” To fabricate evidence against the teachers, she beat Tyler until he was black and blue. She forced Tyler to tell reporters on camera that the teachers had beaten him. The incident, involving school food safety, caused a huge uproar. Tyler, covered in new and old bruises, was dragged by Olivia to kneel at the school gate every day. He looked completely dejected. Onlookers began to speak up: “The child looks so ill, why isn’t he in the hospital?” “These injuries are clearly fresh. How could the teachers have beaten him at home?” “Rich people are so dramatic. Instead of going to the police, they put on heavy makeup and block the school entrance in luxury cars.” More and more people accused Olivia of putting on an act. The situation only ended when I brought Sophia to the school gate. I had also called reporters to explain the whole story. Sophia was allergic to mangoes, and her classmates, unaware of this, had shared some mango candy with her. I admitted that we, as parents, should have been more vigilant and asked everyone to stop discussing the incident. I apologized for the trouble Olivia had caused the school. We also withdrew the lawsuit against the classmate and their parents, hoping everyone would let the children return to their studies in peace.

Our in-laws cared deeply about their reputation. After my husband told them about this incident, they showed no mercy to Olivia, despite her having given them four grandsons. During a family gathering, they made her kneel down and apologize for her behavior in front of everyone. Olivia was humiliated, and my husband was worried. “Will Olivia take out her anger on Sophia? After all, she did all this for our daughter,” he said. I assured him, “She won’t. Olivia loves Sophia too much to blame her.” She would be too busy worrying about Sophia to be angry with her. If anyone would face her wrath, it would be her own son. That night, we heard screaming and crying as she punished her child. Tyler cried the loudest, “Mom, I’m your son! Why do you always hit me because of my sister? I feel pain too!” “Shut up! Cry again and I’ll sew your mouth shut! You don’t deserve to say Sophia’s name!” Finally, our in-laws couldn’t bear it anymore and took Tyler away. They also canceled Olivia’s credit cards and forbade Daniel from giving her money. Olivia endured a couple of years of financial hardship. She harbored resentment and pestered Daniel constantly. When she gave birth to her fifth son, she was overjoyed, expecting another million-dollar reward. Our in-laws only gave her $200,000. “$200,000 is more than enough for having a child. From now on, you’ll have to pay for baby formula yourselves,” they said.

With less money per child, Olivia decided to focus on quantity. Over the next few years, she had three more children. The toll of multiple pregnancies and raising eight children left Olivia’s face wrinkled. She looked nearly ten years older than me. What little money she received went to support her family. Daniel had taken up with a woman in her twenties and rarely came home. Even if Olivia wanted to have more children, she couldn’t find anyone to help her. Everyone thought she would become depressed and bitter, sighing all day like a wronged woman. But surprisingly, she remained energetic and upbeat, even though she had raised her sons to be good-for-nothing. They were uneducated and spent their days either playing video games at home or causing trouble outside, living off the allowance from their grandparents. Some had even dropped out of school, and Olivia indulged them. People were confused by her attitude, but only I knew the truth. Sophia was now twenty years old and pursuing a graduate degree at a top university. Whether the family fortune went to the grandsons or the most accomplished grandchild, Olivia thought she would be the winner either way.

During the New Year’s Eve family gathering, Tyler burst in, panicked and out of breath. He had been drinking at a bar and took an intoxicated girl to a hotel. Now she had called the police, and he had rushed home. He knelt before his grandfather, begging the family patriarch to save his eldest grandson. “Grandpa, please save me! When I helped that girl out of the bar, she didn’t resist at all!” “Grandpa, don’t you have friends in the police department? This girl is falsely accusing me. Can’t you have her arrested instead?” His father, seeing his father-in-law’s face turning purple with rage, smashed his wine glass on Tyler’s head. Blood trickled down Tyler’s forehead as he crawled towards his mother, his 300-pound body barely moving. “Mom, save me! I’m your own son!” His brothers stood by with their arms crossed, watching the scene unfold as if their kneeling brother were an enemy rather than family. Olivia crouched down to wipe the blood from his face. “Tyler, you’ve caused such big trouble. Even I can’t help you now. With a criminal record… I hope it won’t affect your sister’s chances of becoming a civil servant.” Tyler looked at her in disbelief. “I might go to jail, and all you care about is Sophia?” Their grandfather exploded in anger. “Enough! Olivia, look at the son you’ve raised! Take him to turn himself in right now. As far as we’re concerned, we never saw him today!” “And you, we don’t want a daughter-in-law like you in our family anymore. When you get back, divorce Daniel and leave with nothing!” Olivia panicked. She grabbed Sophia, who was sitting next to her grandparents, and before anyone could react, she blurted out: “Dad, I’m not the one who should leave. Tyler is Michael and Emma’s son. Sophia is my real daughter!”

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I financially supported the person I’d secretly been in love with for years. But her heart belonged to someone else—a man who had been dead for years. When she was happy, she went to his grave. When she was sad, she went to his grave. No matter how big or small the occasion, if I couldn’t find her, I knew she was at the cemetery. I tolerated it all because she said yes to my proposal. But on the day of our engagement party, she ran. I found her again at the cemetery, crying her heart out in front of his grave. “I’m sorry, Alex,” she sobbed. “He forced me to say yes. Whether you’re alive or dead, I’ll always love you and only you.” I stood there, empty and defeated. My hand loosened, and the engagement ring slipped from my grasp, disappearing into the grass. When she returned to the villa that evening, her things were already packed and waiting by the door. The butler greeted her coldly, his expression devoid of sympathy. “Mr. Hayes said you should leave by tonight.” The engagement party began, but one of the main characters was conspicuously absent. A bodyguard hurried over to my side and leaned in to whisper, “Sir, Miss White is at the Bayside Cemetery again.” Five years ago, the White family went bankrupt, and I stepped in to clean up the mess. The once-untouchable socialite, Sophia White, became my kept lover. She hated me for it. She hated me for ruining her pride. Hated me for tarnishing her purity. Hated me for tearing her apart from the man she called her “one true love,” even though he had been gone for years. In the years we’d been together, I’d lost count of how many times I had found her at that cemetery. And there she was again, drunk and sprawled over Alex’s tombstone. “I’m sorry, Alex… I’m so sorry. I don’t want to get married…” “But what can I do? My parents begged me, forced me. They made me say yes to him. I’m sorry, Alex. I love you. I’ve only ever loved you. I’ve never felt anything for him. Please don’t hate me.” I walked up behind her, my footsteps quiet on the damp grass. “Not even a little?” I asked softly, my voice almost drowned out by the wind. Sophia froze. Slowly, she turned to face me, her tear-streaked face twisting with anger. “This is all your fault!” she yelled. “It’s your fault I betrayed him!” She threw herself at me, pounding her fists against my chest in a weak, drunken rage. I grunted, grabbing her wrists tightly as my vision blurred with emotion. “Tell me you don’t mean it,” I demanded, my voice hoarse. “Five years together—day and night. Not once? Not even for a moment?” She looked up at me, her eyes sharp and defiant, her voice unwavering. “I hate you. Every time you touch me, I feel disgusted.” “I’ve never loved you—not even for a second.”

Her words were like a blade, slicing through the fantasies I’d built over five long years. I thought it didn’t matter that she had her ghost. After all, he was dead. I thought that time would change things. That if I treated her well enough, if I gave her everything she wanted, she’d eventually fall for me. Over the years, I gave her everything. When she wanted to break into the entertainment industry, I handed her the best resources. When she offended a powerful director, I personally smoothed things over. When the White family fell from grace and she was mocked at parties, I stood by her side and promised her no one would ever hurt her again. But none of it mattered. All my love, my devotion—it had earned me nothing but her hatred and contempt. I stared at her face, twisted in anger, and finally realized how pathetic I was. My so-called love was a joke. I let out a soft, bitter laugh as the engagement ring slipped from my fingers, vanishing into the grass. The party went on without her, and by the time she returned to the scene, the bride had already been replaced. That night, Sophia called me. “Darling, I drank too much at the club,” she said sweetly, her voice soft and sugary. “Come pick me up, okay?” She spoke as though nothing had happened, as though she hadn’t just escaped from our engagement party. As though she hadn’t cried over another man that same morning. I paused, the phone cold against my ear. For the first time, I didn’t immediately agree. “I’ll send a driver,” I said flatly. “I don’t want a driver!” she snapped, her voice suddenly sharp. Then, after a beat of silence, she chuckled softly, her tone shifting back to a playful purr. “Please, darling? I don’t want anyone else. If you don’t come, I won’t leave.” “Come on,” she whispered, her voice dripping with drunken seduction. “Please?” I stayed silent for a long moment before finally relenting. When I arrived at the club, the scene was all too familiar. Sophia was draped across the lap of some fresh-faced boy, her arms looped around his neck like a scarf. When she saw me, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, her eyes locking onto mine with a smirk. Her gaze seemed to say, What are you going to do about it? In the past, I might’ve dragged her out of there, warned her not to pull a stunt like that again. But tonight, I simply looked at her, my expression calm. “Are you coming or not?” I asked. Sophia blinked, momentarily caught off guard by my lack of reaction. Then she laughed and stumbled to her feet, her movements unsteady in her high heels. “Of course I’m coming,” she said, her words slurring slightly. “My husband came all this way to get me.” She took two steps before tripping, and I caught her easily, steadying her against my chest. She wrapped her arms around my neck, nuzzling against me like a cat finally returning to its owner. “You caught me,” she murmured. “You still love me.” She laughed softly, her voice light and carefree, as though she hadn’t just torn my heart to pieces.

Sophia White had lived a life of luxury—until her family went bankrupt. She’d never experienced hardship before, which is probably why she couldn’t understand or care about anyone else’s struggles. After a drunken night out, I brought her back to the apartment I’d put under her name. In the elevator, she leaned her entire body against me, her balance gone. I steadied her with a firm grip on her waist. “Stand up straight,” I told her. But she didn’t move, her warm fingers tracing the line of my jaw as she leaned in closer. The elevator doors slid open, and in that split second, I made a decision. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her off the ground, carrying her out with hurried steps. She laughed softly, her breath warm against my neck. She knew. She always knew. I could never resist her. Sophia had mastered the art of manipulation—push me away with one hand, then pull me back with the other. She wielded it like a weapon, and I fell for it every time. Later that night, I woke up to find her lying peacefully beside me. I didn’t wake her. Instead, I quietly got dressed and left the bedroom. This apartment was the first gift I’d ever given her. After her family sold off everything they owned to pay off debts, this was the first property under her name. She loved it. She’d personally hired the designer and overseen every detail of the renovation, refusing to let anyone else interfere. There were four rooms in total: a bedroom, a study, a dance studio, and one last room across from the master bedroom. That door had always been off-limits. Out of respect, I’d never tried to enter it. But tonight, standing in front of that door, something inside me snapped. I placed my hand on the doorknob, turned it, and pushed it open. The room was filled with photos. Everywhere I looked, there were pictures of Sophia and Alex—her “true love.” Memories of their time together, pieces of a life they’d shared, remnants of a man who had been dead for years. I stared at it all, and then I laughed. How foolish I had been to think I could ever replace Alex in her heart. Sophia had always been cruel in the way only the privileged could be. Raised in comfort, she took everyone’s kindness for granted, as if it were her birthright. She never cared about the sacrifices I made for her. But here, in this room, she had preserved every tiny thing Alex had ever done for her—every memory, no matter how small. Even the time he’d picked up her pencil in high school had been enshrined in her mind. She remembered everything about him. But everything I had done? None of it mattered. Because I wasn’t Alex. Sophia wasn’t the biggest name in the entertainment industry, but after years of me backing her, she had carved out a place for herself. When I walked into my office the next morning, the head of PR handed me a draft of an article that hadn’t yet gone viral. It was gossip about a rising star who had been publicly dumped at her engagement party. The piece didn’t name names, but anyone with a brain could tell it was about Sophia. The article twisted the truth, making it seem like she had been humiliated when, in reality, she was the one who ran away. The head of PR hesitated. “Sir, should we issue a warning to the press?” Before I could answer, my phone buzzed with a message from Sophia. “Why did you leave without saying anything?” “Are you still mad at me?” “I’m sorry, okay? I know I was too impulsive this time.” “I’m heading out of town for a shoot. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” I turned off my phone and looked at the PR director. “Leave it,” I said coldly. “Don’t bother with her anymore.” That night, I returned to the villa. The butler greeted me at the door. When I started heading upstairs, a thought struck me, and I turned back. “Pack up all of Miss White’s belongings and move them out,” I said. The butler hesitated. “Did you two have another argument?” Sophia and I fought often enough that it wasn’t unusual. Sometimes it was over her drinking, other times because I’d caught her sneaking off to the cemetery again. Whenever we fought, she’d storm off to the apartment I’d given her, only to come back a few days later once she’d cooled down. But this time was different. I didn’t look back as I climbed the stairs. “Don’t let her into the villa again,” I said. For the next four or five days, Sophia bombarded me with messages. This had never happened before. In the past, I was always the one to apologize first. Always the one to give in, because I loved her and couldn’t bear to lose her. But this time, she must have sensed something had changed. She called me several times, but I didn’t pick up. On the eighth day after Sophia left, a typhoon hit the region, bringing heavy rain and chaos. That afternoon, I received a call from Sophia’s assistant. “Mr. Hayes,” she said, her voice trembling. “Miss White went into the mountains with the crew to film, but there was a landslide. Her car got separated from the others, and we haven’t been able to contact her.” “When did this happen?” I demanded. “They entered the mountains yesterday, and now…” The assistant’s voice broke into sobs. I hung up and immediately called my aide, asking him to book me a flight. I knew Sophia had been filming in a nearby city, closer to the coast. My hands shook as I gripped my phone, dread pooling in my chest. “Sir,” my aide said, returning with bad news. “All flights have been grounded because of the typhoon.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “Contact the local rescue team,” I said. “We’ll drive there.” After four hours on the road, we arrived in the middle of the night. With no time to rest, I joined the rescue team immediately. The rain was relentless, turning the mountain roads into dangerous pits of mud. At one point, our vehicle got stuck, and I climbed out, drenched in rain, to help push it free. By the time we reached the landslide site, it was nearly impossible to see anything. The rain and darkness made the search almost futile. We searched until dawn, but there was no sign of Sophia. At 8 a.m., the rain finally stopped. Exhausted, I sat on a boulder overlooking the mud-covered slope. The thought of Sophia buried beneath all that debris was like a knife to my chest. As rescue crews prepared to bring in excavation equipment, a man approached me and tapped my shoulder. “Someone has been trying to call you,” he said. “Your phone’s been off.” My phone had died the night before. I borrowed his and called my aide immediately. “Sir,” my aide said, his voice urgent, “Miss White has been found!” “The crew canceled the shoot after checking the weather forecast. She’s been at the hotel with her assistant the whole time.” I hung up, my grip tightening on the phone. The mountain was silent except for the distant sound of digging. And I stood there, drenched and exhausted, feeling like the biggest fool in the world. 5 I spent two days in the hospital after coming down from the mountain. During that time, Sophia White lingered outside my room, demanding to see me. My aide, Jack, made sure she didn’t get in. But on the day of my discharge, she slipped past him and barged in. Jack glanced at me with a helpless expression, unsure of what to do. “It’s fine,” I said. “Leave us.” Sophia smugly tilted her chin at him as if she’d won some great victory. The door closed behind him, and the second we were alone, her demeanor changed completely. She threw herself into my lap, her voice soft and pleading. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to lie to you.” “I just missed you so much,” she continued, looking up at me with wide, tearful eyes. “You wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, and I didn’t know what else to do. That’s why I lied. I was desperate.” She reached out to touch my face, her voice trembling. “Please forgive me this once, okay? I promise I’ll never lie to you again. I’ll listen to everything you say from now on. Don’t stay mad at me, okay?” I sighed and pressed my fingers to my temple, the exhaustion weighing heavily on me. “Are you done?” I asked flatly. Sophia froze, her big, beautiful eyes suddenly filled with panic. “Go back,” I said, looking away from her. “Don’t you have a shoot today?” “But you—” She reached out, her hand trembling as she tried to touch my face again. Smack. Her pale hand turned red where I’d slapped it away. Sophia stared at me in shock, her eyes immediately welling up with tears. She’d never been treated like this before. “You still haven’t forgiven me!” she cried, her voice breaking. I leaned back against the couch, my energy completely drained. “Does it even matter?” I asked, my voice hollow. “Does my forgiveness mean anything to you?” “You only care about Alex,” I continued bitterly. “Nothing else matters. Nothing I do matters. So what difference does it make if I forgive you or not?” Her expression shifted from confusion to disbelief, as though she were looking at a stranger. After a long silence, she suddenly stood up, a bitter smile curling her lips. “Of course nothing else matters,” she said, her tone sharp and cold. “You think I’d be with you if Alex were still alive?” she spat, her eyes blazing with fury. “No one in this world can compare to him. Not you, not anyone. You’re not even worthy of saying his name!” Her face twisted with rage, her eyes bloodshot. This was the real Sophia—the one who emerged every time Alex was mentioned. The sweet, playful Sophia who called me “husband” and acted coy was just a mask. But when it came to Alex, she’d rip herself apart, exposing the raw, ugly truth beneath. I couldn’t take it anymore. “Get out,” I said, my voice rising. She flinched, startled by the force of my tone. “I said get out! Right now!” I’d never yelled at her like that before. Never once raised my voice, no matter what she did. For a moment, she seemed too stunned to react. Then, as the reality of my words sank in, tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, hugging herself as she sank to the floor. “I didn’t mean to say those things. I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” She looked up at me, her face streaked with tears, and crawled forward on her knees. “Please,” she begged, grabbing my hand with trembling fingers. “I’ll change. I promise I’ll change. Just give me one more chance.” I slowly pulled my hand away, closing my eyes as a wave of bitterness washed over me. “It’s over,” I said softly. She froze, her sobs cutting off mid-breath. I opened my eyes and repeated, “We’re done. I don’t want you anymore.”

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On Christmas Eve, my parents once again left me alone at home for triple overtime pay. Thinking of the past twenty years when they always did this, I no longer wanted to spend the holiday alone and cold. So I packed some dumplings and went to find them. Unexpectedly, my parents, who always talked about earning more money, stepped out of a luxury car, arm in arm with a boy about my age, laughing as they entered a five-star restaurant. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Sarah alone at home?” I heard someone ask. My mother casually replied, “It’s fine, she’s used to it.” My father dismissively added, “She can’t compare to you. You’re our precious child!” I turned and left. They had deceived me by pretending to be poor. This time, I didn’t care for their company either! Back home, I dumped all the food on the table. In the past, I would never have wasted food. From as early as I can remember, I knew our family wasn’t well off. All my food and clothes came from my parents’ frugal savings. Even my clothes were rarely new. Every season, my mother would bring home a bag of second-hand clothes, saying, “These are from your mother’s colleague’s older sister. They’ve been washed clean, so we don’t need to buy new ones.” I don’t know where she got these old clothes from, but throughout my childhood, I hardly ever wore new clothes. I always wore ill-fitting clothes, and my classmates would make fun of me, saying I was a ragpicker. I could only study hard, thinking that one day I would be able to buy new clothes with my own efforts. During holidays, I would hand over all the money relatives gave me to my parents, just to ease their burden. But who knew they had no burden at all? I checked, and that luxury car belonged to the wealthy Johnson family in town. The Johnson’s son had once driven that car, showing off with a celebrity girlfriend. I had seen that gossip news too, and the face of that rich young man was the same as the boy I saw tonight. So, it turns out I’m actually from a wealthy family! I found it amusing, sniffed, and went back to search my parents’ room. Perhaps they were too careless to keep the contract at home. When I saw my father’s name signed on a contract worth hundreds of millions, with a Mont Blanc pen tucked in the documents, my suspended heart finally died. I put everything back as it was and quietly returned to my room, covering myself with the blanket to sleep. I only hoped that when I woke up, everything would be a dream. Early the next morning, my parents were already busy in the kitchen. Looking at the breakfast on the table, I suddenly realized, who eats seafood porridge early in the morning? The taste of this porridge was exactly the same as the seafood feast the professor treated us to last time. I glanced at the garbage bag by the door, and sure enough. “Mom, Dad, has our family suddenly become rich?” I asked, sitting at the table watching them. My mother looked surprised, “Sarah, what are you talking about?” “Then how can we afford such expensive seafood porridge?” I pointed at the garbage bag by the door, and my mother’s face immediately changed. My father chuckled lightly, “That’s from when I worked overtime with the boss last night. He packed it for me, but I couldn’t bear to eat it, so I brought it back.” “With our meager salaries, how could we afford seafood porridge?” So that’s it. I nodded, drinking the porridge, inwardly laughing coldly. Seafood porridge, $80 a serving. Last night’s dinner probably cost thousands! If they were truly poor, I would have found this porridge delicious. Now, it just tasted like chewing wax. I only took two bites before getting up. “I’m full.” “Sarah, why are you eating so little? Are you not feeling well?” My mother looked worried, her gaze not seeming fake. I shook my head and smiled, “No, aren’t we going to Grandpa’s house today? I’m saving room to eat something good at lunch!” Hearing this, my mother sighed in relief. My father looked guilty and was about to say something when his phone rang. I glanced at the screen, the contact was saved as “Precious son Jack.” Jack Johnson was his precious son, so what was I? My father hurried to the balcony, and my mother followed. I vaguely heard him saying things like “be sensible” and “don’t let Sarah find out.” My heart turned completely cold. So, they had known all along, just conspiring to keep it from me. I even wondered if the world I lived in was like The Truman Show. But they seemed so real.

After hanging up the phone, my father came to me and took out a red envelope, “Sarah, something urgent came up at Dad’s company, I have to go!” Mom comforted me: “It’s okay, Mom will go with you.” I nodded, took the red envelope, and put it in my pocket. I got ready with Mom to go to Grandpa’s house. When we arrived, Grandpa saw me and pulled me in, “Sarah’s here, come in quickly, it’s cold outside!” His palm was smooth and delicate, not at all like an old worker’s hands. This apartment building belonged to the steel mill. Supposedly, Grandpa was a retired old worker from the factory. Looking at his pampered appearance, he didn’t seem like it at all. Grandma saw me and quickly gave me a red envelope. I took it and said, “Thank you, Grandma.” Then I directly put it in my pocket. Mom looked a bit stunned beside me because according to the usual routine, I would give her the money right after receiving it. At those times, Mom would always say, “Sarah is so sensible.” But today was different, even Grandma was a bit surprised, then smiled and said, “Our Sarah now knows how to save her Christmas money!” I raised an eyebrow and smiled, “I’m not hiding it. Mom said the Christmas should have new changes, so I want to keep some pocket money for myself.” “That’s right, Sarah is so sensible now. She earns her own tuition and living expenses!” Mom chimed in. Without being told, I knew Grandma had given me at most $50. Compared to tuition fees, this $50 was nothing! They’re so rich now, yet still squeezing me at every turn. I don’t understand. This harsh education, aimed only at me, what exactly do they mean? Grandma didn’t say anything, but went into the kitchen and started bustling about. The food she brought out, I lost my appetite after just two bites. This food was exactly the same as what I saw at the five-star restaurant last night. Now I can finally be sure, the whole family is wealthy, and my parents are just pretending to be poor. Even Grandpa and Grandma are playing along with the act. After the meal, Mom received a phone call and hurriedly left, citing work. Grandpa and Grandma yawned, looking sleepy, so I couldn’t stay any longer and had to leave. But I didn’t go far, instead hiding around the corner to watch quietly. Sure enough, not 20 minutes after I left, a stretched Lincoln car drove up, and Grandma and Grandpa got in, surrounded by a group of people, leaving without looking back. I took a deep breath, put on my mask, and walked up. I saw several cleaning ladies tidying up. One of them sighed, “I don’t know what this family is thinking, coming to live here for just one day a year, cooking one meal, and then leaving!” “At least they pay well for the cleaning!” “You don’t know, this family does this every year, it’s been going on for over 20 years. They have a villa in the south of the city, this is just rich people experiencing life!” Hearing them say this, my heart turned completely cold. The Johnson family, the richest in the south of the city, had their villa in Hillside Garden. I cycled over to find it. Seeing that magnificent villa perched on the hillside, with bodyguards outside, I couldn’t even imagine living in such a place. When they saw me approach, a bodyguard immediately barked, “Who are you? Get lost!” I took a deep breath, and just as I was about to turn and leave, a motorcycle roared past from outside. I had seen it online, this motorcycle cost about $300,000. The rider was none other than Jack.

He saw me too, clearly surprised. He stopped and looked me up and down, a sneer on his face, “Not so stupid after all, you knew to come here!” I was stunned. So, he knew about my existence too! “Why? Why is it like this!” “Jack, am I their adopted daughter? Or are you doing some project, and I’m just a subject in your observation experiment?” Jack seemed to see through my confusion. He raised an eyebrow and shook a finger, “No, you’re a Johnson too. A biological daughter.” “As for why you were raised poor, there’s only one reason. Because I am the sole heir to the Johnson family!” “Sarah, you were born just one minute before me. What right do you have to compete with me?” “This is not a place for you to come. Get lost!” “Poor thing, don’t look at me like that. Mom and Dad put a lot of effort into raising you!” “Oh, and don’t go visit Grandpa and Grandma for Christmas’s anymore. They’re old and don’t have the energy to act for you!” Jack accelerated into the estate. I stood outside for a long time, understanding. My birth with Jack seemed to be related to the inheritance of the family fortune. But what did I do wrong? I just wanted to receive the most sincere love from my parents. They lied to me for so many years, but their kindness to me was also real. But now, looking at the villa and that motorcycle, I began to doubt how much of their kindness to me was genuine. I turned to leave. Before leaving, I called my father: “Dad, are you coming home for dinner tonight?” “Not coming back, Sarah. Working overtime tonight, triple pay for these three days of the Christmas!” “Oh, and your mom’s the same!” But I clearly heard the roar of a motorcycle from his phone. I softly responded “Mm,” having made a decision deep in my heart. Back home, I started packing my things while signing up for a special research project announced by the university. This project was in the western region, lasting three years, isolated from the world, with no one to disturb me. After packing, I developed the photo I had taken of Jack’s back and placed it on the bedside table at home. That day, they didn’t come back. I was alone at home. I called my father again, but no one answered. Meanwhile, the Johnson family’s Jade Corporation started distributing red envelopes. An employee thanked the boss on social media. She was just an ordinary employee, but her red envelope contained $300! Many employees showed off the company benefits. My parents were clearly on stage, one in a suit and the other holding a glass of wine. My mom was wearing exquisite makeup, looking every bit the wealthy lady. Below the stage, Jack was surrounded by people like a star, and there was even a family photo. My parents seemed certain that I was only focused on making money and had no time to pay attention to online gossip. They forgot that I’m just an ordinary girl, raised poor by them. How could I not pay attention? A reporter interviewed them, asking about their Christmas plans. My father faced the camera, “This year my son Jack is twenty-two. We arrange a trip every year, and we’re leaving today!” My heart suddenly sank. I’m twenty-two too. If the farthest place I’ve been is the local zoo for a school spring tour in elementary school. I sneered, picked up my household registration book, and rubbed it. It’s laughable. After I went to college, my parents transferred my household registration to the school. They said I was an adult now and should be responsible for myself. Now is the perfect time to leave. I picked up my luggage and left without hesitation. Dad, Mom, goodbye forever!

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I was diagnosed with acute leukemia the moment I found out York was dating another girl Winnie. My world shattered, and just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, his uncle appeared. On their wedding day, Winnie whispered something strange to me. After the wedding, York’s true face emerged. Yet, the truth ignited something fierce within me. I couldn’t stand by, not even at the cost of my life. I would fight, using every ounce of strength to save him from his own lies. And in my final moments, I realized—York had always been there, hidden in the shadows, loving me in his own twisted way. Even as I bled out, I knew—he had always been there. In my quest for revenge, I married my boyfriend’s uncle. I’m Zenobia Smith, and I met York Wales five years ago. It was a typical college day when I first saw him—standing under the sun in a crisp white shirt. His clean, perfect image struck me, but it was his eyes—so clear and untainted—that held me. His family was wealthy, and they had already arranged a marriage for him. But York, in defiance, ran away from his world and chose me. We struggled after college. No jobs, no money. But we always had each other. Then, things started to change. A company hired us, and York, after a year and a half, left to start his own business. Despite the hardships, we made it. For five years, we were inseparable. I believed we’d walk down the aisle one day. Then came the diagnosis. Acute leukemia. “I can’t afford the treatment, York. My family… they can’t help. I’m… I’m too far gone,” my voice breaking. York’s face twisted in agony. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Zenobia. I’m not losing you. I’ll find the money, I swear.” But nothing was enough. The bills piled up, and we were drowning. Then came the anonymous envelope, the one with money. I read the handwritten note over and over again, desperately clinging to it like it was my lifeline. As the pain from treatment consumed me, York stayed by my side. He was my rock. But soon, I started noticing the change in him. His phone would ring, and he’d quickly shove it away, muttering about spam. “York, who was that?” I asked one evening, my voice fragile. “It’s nothing, Zenobia. Just… just some junk mail,” he replied, forcing a smile. I could feel it in my bones. Something was off. One day, when he stepped out of the room. I unlocked his phone. The message was clear. “Tonight at 8, Doya Hotel, Room 203, waiting for you.” My heart stopped. The name on the message sent a chill through me—Winnie. His ex-fiancée. The woman his family had chosen for him. I could hardly breathe. My entire world was crashing down around me. “York… How could you?” York had never turned his back on me during my sickness, but maybe the pressure was too much for him. Maybe he needed an outlet—or maybe he just had normal human needs? I tried to rationalize it, to make excuses for him. But as the days passed, my mood soured. My treatment stopped going as smoothly, and I couldn’t hide my anger every time he glanced at his phone. Finally, one day, I exploded. He didn’t argue with me. He just calmly walked out of the room—and he never came back.

I began to resist treatment on purpose, refusing to take my medicine. My former doctors and nurses were at their wit’s end. At that moment, I just wanted to wait for death. Then, my new doctor—Woodruff Jenkins—walked into my world. “Hello, I’m your new doctor, Woodruff Jenkins. Forty-two years old, Cancer sign, no bad habits, I own a house and a car, and after work, I just go home,” he introduced himself, his voice casual yet confident. I thought, What is he doing, giving me his personal details like we’re on a blind date? But I couldn’t help but notice that his introduction caught my attention. “I’ve reviewed your case. There’s hope for you. Don’t worry, no patient of mine has ever given up on themselves,” he said with a reassuring smile like a ray of light cutting through the darkness of my life. I stared at him, and something about his smile—his eyes—reminded me of York. They were just as clear, just as innocent. “Medicine is great, but nothing beats the sunshine. Let’s go for a walk,” his tone gentle but unyielding. “I’m tired,” Before I could respond, he signaled the nurse to bring over a wheelchair. Then, without warning, he swept me into his arms in a princess carry and placed me in the wheelchair. I was stunned by his suddenness but didn’t push him away. I couldn’t help it—there was something about him that reminded me of York. I began cooperating with my treatment. Dr. Jenkins would accompany me on walks whenever he had time, and soon, I found myself eagerly awaiting his rounds. My health improved, and as our bond grew beyond the doctor-patient relationship. One day, as we sat together, he took my hand and said softly, “I think it’s time we take things to the next level. Next week, there’s a family gathering. I want to bring you along.” I froze. Is this happening so fast? Five years with York, and he never once took me to meet his family. But with Woodruff, just three months in, and I was going to meet his parents? The day of the gathering, Woodruff took me shopping for a red dress. The moment I put it on, I felt like a new person—healthier, more alive. I was worried about what his family would think if they knew I was sick, but Woodruff had once said, “A firm choice is more important than any romance.” I wasn’t sure if I believed in fate, but in that moment, I understood what he meant. When we arrived at Woodruff’s home, my anxiety only grew. The large garden, the mansion, the servants—everything screamed wealth. I walked in with him, my heart pounding. “The others aren’t here yet, we’ve arrived first. Let’s wait for them,” Woodruff said, his hand gently guiding me. “Okay,” I whispered, trying to steady myself. “Sit here. I’ll go grab you some fresh juice,” he walked toward the kitchen. As I waited, I noticed the family photos on the mantle above the fireplace. I ran my fingers over them, one by one, until I reached a photo of Woodruff as a child. He looked so innocent. But then, my eyes froze on one particular picture. It was a photo of Woodruff with someone else. York. My heart skipped a beat. Before I could process the shock, Woodruff came back with the juice. He saw the blood on my hands, and panic flashed across his face. “Zenobia! You’re bleeding,” . He rushed me to the car and sped back to the hospital. On the way there,my mind racing. How could I have missed this? Woodruff glanced at me, concern written all over his face. “We’ll be at the hospital soon. Where are you hurting?” “Pull over,” I ordered suddenly. “Zenobia, what’s wrong?” “Stop the car,” Woodruff pulled over and reached out to touch my head. “What’s happening?” “Why… why do you have a picture with York?” “He’s my nephew. I’m his uncle.” I was stunned. “You knew about York and me all along?” “No, not at first,” his brow furrowed. “I didn’t know, but then his father mentioned you to me. I felt for you and wanted to help, but I never expected to fall for you. I’m so sorry, Zenobia. I never meant to hide it from you.” He pulled me into an embrace. “And York… I’m sure you’ve figured out what happened. He and Winnie, they’ve been in contact for a while. They were still meeting, going to hotels together…” His words sliced through me like a knife. They’d been together all along. My heart broke into a thousand pieces. But at that moment, I could feel Woodruff’s arms around me—comforting, gentle. He wasn’t York. He never would be. Yet, even in his warmth, I could still see York’s face, his eyes, his smile. I wanted to confess my feelings to Woodruff, but every time I saw the care he gave me, my words got stuck. He was the light in my life now, and I couldn’t bear to hurt him.

It was valentine day, and a nurse walked in with a bouquet of flowers, smiling brightly. “Dr. White is in surgery, but the flowers he ordered for you have arrived.” Yes, he was always so thoughtful. I placed the flowers in a vase and gazed out at the cars passing below the hospital, each car seemingly carrying a pair of lovers. Last year’s Valentine was spent with York, but this year, everything had changed. “Do you like the flowers?” Suddenly, a pair of large hands wrapped around my waist from behind. It was Woodruff. “I do,” “How about we go out for dinner tonight? I’ve reserved a table at a fancy restaurant,” Woodruff whispered, nibbling at my neck. “Sounds good,” At 8 PM, I changed out of my hospital gown and joined Woodruff at the restaurant. As expected, it was a high-end place. The decor suggested the food might be expensive, though I couldn’t tell if it was any good, but I could already taste the wealth in the air. Sure enough, the dishes that arrived were Michelin-level. Woodruff clearly paid great attention to me. Amid our light conversation, a familiar voice suddenly called from behind. “Uncle.” I turned, and my heart nearly shattered. It was York. “York, Winnie is here too,” Woodruff responded. I quickly turned away, not wanting to meet his gaze, though I could tell York was equally stunned. “I was just checking in on my patient,” Woodruff tried to lighten the awkward atmosphere. “Well, since Uncle’s friend is here, we won’t stay. Let’s go, York,” Winnie said, pulling York away. York walked slowly, struggling, probably because he couldn’t understand the situation—his uncle was sitting across from his ex, who hadn’t officially broken up with him yet. As York and Winnie sat down nearby, I lowered my head and tried to eat, but the food had lost all its taste. A wave of resentment and jealousy surged inside me. “Marry me,” Woodruff suddenly said. My mind was still reeling from the shock of seeing York, the man who had betrayed me and left me when I was sick. I stared at Woodruff for a moment and then answered, “Yes.” Woodruff’s excitement was palpable. “What? You said yes?” “Mm,” “Wait here,” Woodruff stood and walked toward the front desk, speaking briefly with the manager before returning to my side, grabbing my hand. The manager approached, pushing a cart with wine and flowers, followed by a violinist. Woodruff knelt beside me, pulling a ring from his pocket. As the violinist began to play, we became the center of attention. In front of everyone, Woodruff slipped the ring onto my finger. The room erupted in applause, offering us their blessings. But York, seated nearby, wore a shocked and worried expression. Less than a year after breaking up with York, I was marrying his uncle. Woodruff rushed to plan our wedding as if afraid I would disappear if we slowed down. We began writing invitations, and since Woodruff was York’s uncle, I knew he would come. I quickly wrote York’s name on the invitation, imagining how he would regret his actions when he saw me on my wedding day. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was York. I froze for a second, thinking, Could he already regret it? “Hello, what’s up?” There was a brief silence on the other end before he spoke. “Don’t marry my uncle.” Does he regret it already? “Don’t you want me to live long?” “No, you can hate me, but don’t marry my uncle. You have to trust me. We were together for five years. Have I ever lied to you?” His voice shook. “Did you lie to me? What about you and Winnie?” “It’s not what you think. We didn’t do anything,” he hurriedly explained. “I saw your phone.” I cut him off. There was silence on the other end. “No one stays a fool forever. I have to finish writing wedding invitations. Goodbye.” Before he could say more, I hung up. The more he suffered, the better I felt. It felt like all the pain from the past was finally being repaid. I deleted York’s contact information and blocked him. “You deserve it. This is the price of betrayal.” “Are you done?” Woodruff’s voice startled me. I hadn’t realized he was standing behind me. “Almost,” I quickly closed my phone. “Who was that?” Woodruff asked, noticing my unease. “Telemarketer,” I lied. Woodruff paused, “Let’s go to the marriage registration office today.” “I thought we were doing that after the wedding?” I asked, surprised. We had previously agreed to register after the ceremony. “Maybe I just want you so much. I’m afraid someone might steal you away,” “Okay, let’s go to the registration office this afternoon,” I replied.

In the afternoon, we left the civil affairs bureau and took a car back to Woodruff’s house. Along the way, Woodruff suddenly became much quieter than usua. To break the silence, I spoke first, “My condition is much more stable now.” Normally, if I mentioned my illness before, he would go into a detailed analysis, but today he only replied with a cold “mm.” Perhaps he was tired from juggling work and wedding preparations. I decided not to push for a conversation and let the silence linger. But then I noticed we weren’t heading to the hospital or his house; instead, we were going to a resort in the suburbs. “The house is a bit chaotic with the wedding preparations, so you’ll stay here for now,” Woodruff said. His thoughtfulness moved me, and for a moment, I thought I had found the right person. But once again, reality shattered my hopeful dreams … Soon, the wedding day arrived. We had decided to hold the ceremony in Woodruff’s small villa. To keep things simple and not tire me out, we only invited family and close friends. York and Winnie were also present. winnie approached me to congratulate me and gave me a gift. York didn’t speak to me; he went straight to Woodruff, and I caught a glimpse of their expressions. Woodruff wore his professional, fake smile, while York looked visibly displeased.”If I had known it would be like this, I wouldn’t have left first.” Woodruff glanced over at me, and when he saw Winnie and I talking, he ignored York and came over to us. Winnie, upon seeing him, suddenly hugged me and whispered “York asked me to tell you not to sign any papers Woodruff gives you, and don’t let him know what I told you.” Before I could ask her what she meant, she quickly greeted Woodruff. “Uncle, congratulations.” Woodruff gave her a quick glance before turning to me, “Not tired, are you?” I nodded. Just then, Woodruff’s boss arrived, and he quickly took me away from Winnie to greet him. As the wedding party carried on, a frail, disheveled old woman, around 70 years old, burst into the room, grabbing Woodruff by the collar and shouting like a madwoman, “Give me back my daughter, you killed her…” Everyone was shocked, but only Winnie and York remained calm. At first, Woodruff was a bit stunned, but he quickly composed himself, silently instructing the servants to remove the woman. He adjusted his tie and glanced deeply at York, then ordered the servants to call the police. Was this York’s revenge? Sending an old woman to disrupt my most important moment? It was his betrayal that started this, and now he was trying to ruin my wedding. Five years of my life wasted. I stormed up to York and slapped him across the face. I hated this man in front of me with all my heart. Winnie gasped and immediately pushed me away. I then slapped her, the mistress in my relationship, leaving her stunned. She screamed, “Are you crazy?” Yes, I was crazy. These two had driven me mad. York didn’t try to explain himself; he just looked at me with sad eyes. “Please leave. You’re not welcome here,” As they were leaving, Winnie said, “Zenobia, all the suffering you’ll endure from now on, you deserve it.” All the pain I’ve suffered has come from these two people.

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### My sister, radiant and mesmerizing, never stopped being the center of attention—even when she was pregnant. Our parents worked tirelessly to find men for her, never complaining, never resting. I watched as one scrawny, pale man after another left our house with glowing faces and renewed energy. The villagers called her the luck of the town, the one who brought fortune to anyone who shared her bed. But one day, I followed her to the river in the hills and saw something moving beneath the water where she bathed. My sister, Clara, was the jewel of Pearl Creek Village. She was known far and wide for her beauty, her alluring charm, and the way she did… absolutely nothing all day but lie in bed. Even pregnancy didn’t slow her down. Strange muffled sounds often came from her room—moans, groans, and the occasional gasp. People said Clara was the “Pearl of Fortune.” Sleep with her, they claimed, and your luck would change overnight. Our parents didn’t mind the rumors. In fact, they encouraged it, happily taking the money that inevitably followed. A few days ago, however, Clara had slipped and miscarried. Our parents were devastated. They doted on her even more, cooking meat broth every day to “restore her health.” “Still in bed, you lazy brat? Get up and make soup for your sister!” I barely had time to register the sound of my mother’s broom swishing through the air before it smacked down on my back, sending a sharp sting through me. I bolted upright, all traces of sleep gone, and scrambled to the kitchen under her harsh glare. Unlike Clara, who was pale, flawless, and angelic, I was a walking nightmare. My face was a disaster. A twisted nose, a crooked mouth, and an uneven patch of scars covered my left cheek. The right side was even worse—a dark birthmark stretched across it, thick with coarse black hair. The villagers called me “Toad,” saying I was uglier than the slimiest creature in the swamp. When I was born, my parents had wanted to drown me in a chamber pot, but they’d decided to keep me around because I was healthy enough to work. Now, I stood on a stool, stirring a pot of meat broth until the rich, savory aroma filled the air. My stomach growled loudly—I hadn’t eaten all day. But when I was done, my mother snatched the pot away, not sparing me a single drop. “Take this to your sister,” she barked. When I entered Clara’s room, she was sprawled across the bed, her eyes closed, her body writhing slightly as if she were in a dream. The moment she smelled the broth, her eyes snapped open, and she lunged for the bowl. She drank greedily, swallowing mouthful after mouthful, the oil glistening on her lips as it slid down her chin. Watching her eat, I couldn’t help but gulp, my stomach twisting with hunger. Halfway through the bowl, Clara paused and looked at me with a strange smile. “Want some?” she asked sweetly, a rare show of generosity. I nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!” For once, she handed me the bowl. “Here,” she said, smirking. “You look so pitiful—I’ll let you have a taste.” My hands trembled as I brought the bowl to my lips, taking a deep sip of the broth. And then I froze. The broth, which smelled so rich and delicious, tasted like rot—thick with an overwhelming stench of decay. Before I could even understand what was happening, Clara let out a piercing scream. “Mom! Toad stole my broth! She drank it!” My mother stormed in before I could explain, her hand flying across my face with a force that sent me reeling. “That broth is for your sister! You think you deserve it? Get outside and do your chores!” Clara laughed hysterically, her slender waist twisting as she clutched her stomach in mock pain. “Mom,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet, “when are you bringing me my next man? I’m feeling better, you know.” My mother stroked her hair lovingly. “Don’t worry, dear. Once you’re pregnant again, the men will come flocking back.” I clutched my stinging cheek, tears streaming down my face, and stumbled outside to pull weeds. It was nearly sunset by the time I finished my chores. Exhausted, I dragged myself back to the house, only to find my father squatting in the backyard, gnawing on bones. The bones were leftovers from Clara’s broth. Nearby, my mother was scrubbing clothes, muttering to herself. “Good thing this baby didn’t go to waste,” she sighed. “Clara’s body is recovering so well—she’ll be ready to conceive again in no time.” “Clara’s a blessing,” my father agreed, cracking another bone between his teeth. “Even if she’s just our little fortune pearl, she’s worth her weight in money.” Once they went inside, curiosity got the better of me. I crept toward the pile of discarded bones. At first, I didn’t see anything unusual. But then my eyes landed on something that made my stomach drop. Lying among the scraps was a skull—not fully formed, but unmistakably human. I staggered back, my heart hammering in my chest. It was the remains of Clara’s unborn child. 2 My parents always made me cook the meat, never letting me look too closely at it. But now, the thought of that broth—its nauseating stench—made me shiver. That night, I couldn’t sleep. My parents’ words kept replaying in my mind, and my cheek, still swollen from the slap, throbbed painfully. Unable to bear it, I got up in the dark to find some ointment. That’s when I noticed something strange: my sister, Clara, who never left her bed, was gone. Curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to follow her. I crept through the shadows, watching as Clara made her way to the river behind the hills. She slipped out of her clothes and stepped into the water. Holding my breath, I crouched low and peeked through the bushes. Clara was waist-deep in the river, her bare back partially exposed above the surface. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest rising and falling heavily. She looked… in pain, but there was something else too—a strange, almost blissful expression on her face. My eyes widened in horror. Something thick and eel-like, as large as a man’s arm, was writhing in her lap, coiling and twisting against her body. “Ah!” Clara let out a sharp gasp, her voice breaking through the quiet night. I froze, my mind racing. I knew there were eels in the river. They liked dark, murky places, preferring the shadows and filth. But this—this was something else entirely. A chill ran down my spine as I instinctively rubbed my arms, feeling as though I’d been in that water myself. I couldn’t watch any longer. Shaking, I crouched lower and began to sneak away. But just as I thought I was safe, a hand clamped down hard on my shoulder. I screamed, spinning around, only to find my father standing behind me. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it sent a shiver through me. “Little Lizzy,” he said, his tone eerily calm, “what did you see?” My heart thudded in my chest as I stammered out a lie, saying I’d gone to use the outhouse and noticed Clara’s door was open, so I went to look for her. “She’s at the river,” I added. “She looked like she wasn’t feeling well…” My father’s expression turned strange, his lips curling into a half-smile. “You’re too young to understand,” he said, his voice almost condescending. “What your sister’s going through… it’s just part of growing up. It’s what makes her a woman.” He patted my head, his words heavy with meaning I didn’t understand, and sent me back toward the house. But instead of going inside, I doubled back. Something wasn’t right. Hiding in the shadows once again, I watched as my father crouched in the bushes by the river, his eyes fixed on Clara. His gaze was intense, hungry. That night, I didn’t dare sleep. I lay in bed, feigning rest, my ears straining for any sound. And then I heard it. The soft creak of footsteps, careful and quiet. My father was sneaking into Clara’s room. A month later, Clara started vomiting. She was showing all the signs of pregnancy. My mother wasted no time calling the town’s only healer, Dr. Samuel, to check her. Sure enough, Clara was pregnant again. My parents were overjoyed. “Thank the heavens,” my mother exclaimed, practically glowing with pride. “We’ve got another one on the way!” Clara, too, couldn’t stop smiling. She leaned against the bedpost, her voice saccharine and teasing. “Mom, does that mean I’ll get a man tonight? It’s been over a month, and I’m starving.” “Of course, sweetheart,” my mother cooed. “I’ll let them know right away. The Pearl of Fortune is ready again.” Their laughter filled the house, but I couldn’t stay. My chest felt tight, and I needed to get away from their sickening celebration. Dr. Samuel was the only person in Hollow Creek who had ever been kind to me. He wasn’t like the others. Young, clean-cut, and soft-spoken, he didn’t treat me like a monster. He’d even taught me how to read and write when no one else would bother. As he was leaving, he caught my arm. “Lizzy,” he said in a low, urgent voice, his usual calm replaced with tension. “Let me check something.” He took my wrist and pressed his fingers to it, feeling my pulse. His brow furrowed deeply. “Lizzy,” he said again, his voice more serious this time, “you need to listen to me carefully.” I nodded, my heart pounding. “They’ve been lying to you. All of them,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “When you… when you come of age, when your body changes, don’t tell anyone. Don’t let them know.” My eyes widened, confusion and fear swirling in my chest. “Why?” “Because they’ll give you something to drink. They’ll say it’s medicine, but it’s not. Whatever you do, don’t drink it. If you do, something terrible will happen.” 3 I didn’t understand Dr. Samuel’s warning, but the fear in his voice made me shiver. “What… what do you mean?” I asked, my voice trembling. He opened his mouth to explain, but before he could say another word, my mother’s sharp voice called me from inside the house. Samuel hesitated, then sighed and left quickly. After Clara got pregnant again, she became even lazier, leaving every chore to me. She didn’t lift a finger, not even to pour herself a glass of water. Every morning, I had to cook her meat broth and wash her, while at night, her room filled with those strange, lilting sounds again. But tonight, the noises were different. The usual soft, drawn-out hums turned into something lower, guttural—almost like the whimpering of a wounded animal. The village chief came by that night. He was well past sixty, but when he left, his face was ruddy, his step light, as though years had been lifted from his shoulders. In the yard, I overheard him whispering with a few other men. “That was the last night. I’ll miss her, though. My wife’s never been so… lively.” “True,” another man said with a chuckle. “But we have to think about the future. The entire village depends on her.” Their words sent a chill through me. Something was wrong. What were they planning? Did Clara know? The next morning, when I brought Clara her broth, I finally worked up the courage to warn her. “Clara,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “stop bringing men into your room. They’re going to hurt you. I think—” Before I could finish, she snatched the bowl from my hands and slammed it against my face. The scalding liquid splashed across my skin, and the bowl left a red, swollen mark where it hit me. “You jealous little toad,” she sneered, laughing as I stumbled back, clutching my burning cheek. “What do you know? You don’t even have a man. You just can’t stand that they all want me.” She clapped her hands, laughing so hard she doubled over, her snake-like waist twisting with glee. I swallowed my anger, my voice low and cold. “Fine. I’ll go tell Mom to bring you another man.” For three months, my parents kept collecting money from the men who came to Clara’s room. But instead of looking happy, their expressions grew heavier each day, darkened by something they wouldn’t talk about. And Clara… something wasn’t right with her either. At only four months pregnant, her belly was already as large as if she were full-term. Veins, dark and swollen, twisted under her pale, thin skin, writhing like worms. One morning, I was jolted awake by screams from Clara’s room. She was in labor. It didn’t make sense—normal women carried their babies for nine months, maybe eight at the least. But Clara was only four months in. The entire village had gathered outside our house, their faces tense with anticipation. “God bless her,” someone whispered. “May she bring fortune to us all.” “We’ve waited so long,” another murmured. “This has to be it.” Hours dragged on, and Clara’s screams grew weaker and weaker. Finally, my mother emerged, her face drenched in sweat, her hands covered in blood. She carried a heavy basket in her arms. She looked down at it and spat. “Another useless one.” The villagers craned their necks for a look. But when they saw what was inside, their faces fell, and they quickly dispersed, muttering under their breath. Curiosity got the better of me. Once everyone was gone, I crept closer to the basket. Inside, wrapped in a thin, translucent membrane, was a creature that wasn’t human. It had no arms or legs, just a stubby, misshapen body. Two pitch-black eyes, slitted and unblinking, stared out from its face, with no eyelids to close them. Gills flared on its sides, opening and closing with each shallow breath. I froze, my blood running cold. It wasn’t a baby. It was a monster. Clara bled out later that day. No matter what my mother did, the bleeding wouldn’t stop. She died before sunset. But what shocked me most wasn’t her death—it was the village’s reaction. The same people who once called her their “Pearl of Fortune” now acted as though she’d never existed. They didn’t mourn her. They didn’t even come to pay their respects. The next morning, smoke rose from every chimney, carrying the mouthwatering scent of roasted meat. Only the village chief came to our house. “Such a shame,” he said, standing before Clara’s altar. He even squeezed out a few tears. “She was one of a kind.” As he turned to leave, his gaze landed on me, crouched in the corner, burning paper for the dead. His eyes narrowed, a slow, calculating smile spreading across his face. “Lizzy’s sixteen now, isn’t she?” I didn’t dare lie. I nodded stiffly. The chief’s smile widened. Later that evening, I saw him talking to my parents in hushed tones. “She’ll do just fine,” I heard him say through the thin wooden door. “Better than the last one. She’ll bring us everything we need.” They talked until dusk. After Clara’s death, my parents’ attitude toward me shifted. They were… kind. For the first time in my life, they treated me with warmth, as though I were something precious. But I didn’t trust it. A few weeks later, I was washing clothes by the river when I felt a sudden heat between my legs. Looking down, I saw a smear of sticky, red liquid staining my underclothes. Panic surged through me. “Mom! Mom, what’s happening to me?” When my mother saw the blood, her face lit up with joy. “Don’t be scared, Lizzy,” she said, beaming. “You’re a woman now.” I felt sick, my stomach cramping as she carried me home on her back. That night, she made me a bowl of thick, bitter-smelling broth and brought it to my bedside. For the first time, she was gentle with me, her voice soft and sweet as she coaxed me to drink. “Be a good girl, Lizzy. Drink this, and the pain will go away.” Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to me like this. I reached for the bowl, my hands trembling. But just as I was about to take a sip, Dr. Samuel’s voice echoed in my mind: “Whatever you do, don’t drink it. If you do, something terrible will happen.” I froze, the bowl inches from my lips. 4 I turned my head away, refusing to drink the bitter concoction. My teeth clenched as I shook my head in defiance. But my mother wasn’t having it. Her expression darkened, and she grabbed my jaw with surprising strength, forcing my mouth open. She poured the hot, thick liquid down my throat, ignoring my muffled protests. “Be a good girl,” she said, her voice sickly sweet. “By tomorrow morning, you’ll be a grown woman.” When she finally left, I scrambled to the corner and tried to gag myself, desperate to throw it all up. But no matter how hard I tried, the medicine refused to come back up. Terror gripped me, and I spent the entire night curled up in my bed, trembling as I waited for the unspeakable horror Dr. Samuel had warned me about. But nothing happened. The next morning, I cautiously approached the mirror—and froze. The scars that had marred my face for as long as I could remember were gone. The dark, hairy birthmark that had covered the right side of my face? Vanished. In its place was smooth, porcelain skin—soft, flawless, and glowing. My cheeks looked so delicate, they seemed like they might bruise if touched too hard. I was… beautiful. Even more beautiful than Clara had been. I stood in stunned silence, pulling off my clothes. The tight, restricting bandages I’d always worn fell to the floor, revealing my figure. My chest, once flattened beneath layers of cloth, was now full, pale, and unrestrained. For the first time in my sixteen years, I saw my true self. When I finally stepped out of my room, my parents were cooking breakfast. The moment my father saw me, he couldn’t help himself—his hand reached out and pinched my arm, as though testing if I was real. I flinched away, but my mother’s reaction was far different. Her face lit up with joy. “See? Didn’t I tell you?” she cried, clapping her hands. “Look at you now—you’re the most beautiful girl in the whole village!” My heart pounded as her words sank in. The most beautiful girl in the village. For the first time, I wouldn’t have to hear people call me “Toad.” With my newfound beauty, everything changed. The villagers, who used to mock and avoid me, treated me with reverence. Even my parents seemed to see me in a new light. “Lizzy’s got that good fortune about her,” someone said. “She’s even better than Clara was!” “She’ll make a fine Pearl of Fortune,” another villager added. “She’ll bring blessings to all of us!” But every time someone said those words, Clara’s screams echoed in my mind. I couldn’t forget the way she’d died, and the thought of following in her footsteps filled me with dread. My mother must have sensed my fear because she pulled me aside one afternoon. “Don’t worry,” she said, her tone soft and reassuring. “Your sister just wasn’t as lucky as you. You’re different. You’re our family’s only hope now.” For three days, my mother personally supervised me as I drank the herbal medicine. By the fourth day, she seemed satisfied that I was obedient and left me alone with the steaming bowl. “Finish it all,” she said, patting my head before heading out to do chores. But this time, I couldn’t bring myself to drink it. I stared at the bowl in my hands, the bitter aroma filling my nose. All my life, I’d dreamed of shedding my ugly skin, of finally being seen as something other than a monster. But now that I had it… Was this really a blessing? That afternoon, Dr. Samuel found me by the river, washing clothes. When he saw me, he froze, his eyes widening in shock. “You…” he whispered. “What have they done to you?” I avoided his gaze, my heart heavy with doubt. Grabbing my bucket, I tried to walk away. “You lied to me!” I shot back over my shoulder. “You said something terrible would happen, but nothing has! I’m fine!” “Lizzy, stop!” he called after me, his voice filled with urgency. I paused, my fists tightening around the bucket handle. “You’re not fine,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “What you’re experiencing… it’s all a lie. A trap to pull you in.” I turned to face him, my chest tight with frustration. “What are you talking about?” Samuel hesitated, his expression pained. “If you drink the medicine for seven days, you’ll lose control of yourself completely. Your mind, your will—it’ll all be gone. You’ll become nothing more than a tool for the men in this village.” His voice dropped lower. “Do you remember the river behind the hills? The thing you saw there? That’s what killed your sister.” The memory hit me like a punch to the gut. Clara, half-submerged in the water. The massive eel-like creature writhing against her body. The strange mix of pain and ecstasy on her face. I shuddered, my skin crawling. But who was telling the truth—Samuel or my parents? That night, I decided to test it for myself. When my mother gave me the fourth bowl of medicine, I pretended to drink it but secretly poured it out. By morning, I noticed something strange: a faint shadow of the birthmark had reappeared on my cheek. That evening, I crept down the hallway, pressing myself against the wall as I approached my parents’ room. The light was still on, and their voices drifted through the thin wooden door. “…The full moon’s almost here,” my father was saying, excitement clear in his tone. “It’s time to offer Lizzy to the River God.”

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