Category: English

I stared at the marriage certificate in front of me, as excited as if I’d struck gold. Not because I loved my new husband, but because if we stayed married for a year, he’d give me a million dollars! As soon as we left the registry office, I received a $200,000 deposit – more than I could earn in a year writing novels. Ryan walked quickly ahead of me, clearly wishing he could grow two extra legs to leave me far behind. I jogged to catch up and get in the car. As soon as the door closed, he started lecturing me: “Wear a mask in public from now on. Don’t let the paparazzi photograph you.” “Your clothes are too plain. Learn how to dress properly.” “Wear makeup every day. You look awful without it.” I clenched my fists, reminding myself not to jeopardize my million dollars. Ha! Some people market him as the “Ice King” actor, but he’s really just a jerk who can’t keep his mouth shut. “Anything else I need to improve? I’m all ears,” I said sarcastically. “Keep up that humble attitude.” … The car pulled into an underground garage. Ryan suddenly put on sunglasses and a mask, even pulling up his hoodie. Poor guy, having to bundle up like that in July. I was about to get out when he grabbed my arm, forcibly disguising me as well. “There’s a paparazzo behind that pillar. I don’t want to make headlines.” He walked ahead to draw attention, suddenly acting every bit the aloof celebrity with his hands in his pockets, strolling casually. I watched him get in the elevator. Sure enough, a figure crouching low scurried in that direction. Celebrities really do have a sixth sense for cameras! I waited until the coast was clear before opening the car door. But I was caught red-handed – a camera was suddenly shoved in my face, snapping away. Thinking quickly, I shoved the photographer aside and smashed the camera on the ground. Back home, I immediately told Ryan what happened. He actually asked if the camera was expensive. I snapped back, “Is that the point? You kept stressing how I need to be prepared when going out and not let my full face be seen. Now you’re worried about a camera?” The more I thought about it, the more suspicious I became. “Unless… you set this up?!” A chill ran down my spine. This guy was too crafty. Ryan gave me an approving look. “Your method wasn’t very smart, but you accidentally passed the test.” He went to the computer desk and opened a set of photos, gesturing for me to come look. Sure enough, there were the close-up shots from earlier. I tried to delete them, but he took the laptop away. Marrying him was like being a secret agent. I felt I more than earned this money – he could even pay me more.

Speaking of marriage, our arrangement was more dramatic than an online novel. At first I thought it would be the classic “arrogant celebrity falls for ordinary girl” plot. He took me to an upscale restaurant, even booking a private room. Then he slapped down a contract. “Sign this. The payment is one million dollars.” I was overjoyed. This kind of windfall finally happened to me! I asked why he chose me. He took off his sunglasses, revealing those soulful eyes that could melt any woman’s heart. But his words were far from romantic: “Because you’re my anti-fan. That way you won’t fall in love with me.” “I don’t want any messy emotional entanglements when we divorce.” His arrogant attitude quickly killed any fantasies I had. It was true – I was his infamous anti-fan, even trending on social media once for criticizing him. He’d have to be crazy to actually fall for me. At 10 PM, when I’d normally be watching soap operas, I was instead cramming information from a stack of documents, feeling overwhelmed. They were about my “assignment” – Ryan’s love interests. I wondered why he didn’t just pick a wife from the entertainment industry. There were plenty of beautiful, well-connected women to choose from. But what the young master wanted to do was none of my business. I was just here to do a job and get paid. He needed a wife who could keep up appearances in public. I needed a large sum of money urgently. We both got what we wanted and reached an agreement happily. I had just opened the refrigerator when suddenly a hand slammed it shut, pressing firmly. The billion-dollar box office star was being stingy at home. Not only did he not eat properly himself, he wouldn’t let others eat either. I tried to reason with him: “The contract didn’t say I can’t eat after 10 PM, did it?” “You need to maintain your figure. Eating like this, you’ll gain at least 4 pounds in a month.” “Do you want me to explain to people why I suddenly have a different wife in 6 months?” After a week of interaction, my impression of Ryan as a man of few words who kept people at arm’s length was completely shattered. In private, this man was insufferable. His cold, lofty image was all an act. He was afraid I’d sneak food in my room, so he dragged me to rehearse our script. One minute he’d pick me up and spin me around, the next he’d put me down and shake me. My brain felt scrambled. By the 10,086th time I cursed him in my mind, he finally put me down. Then he started quizzing me seriously. “Let me test you. Who is Olivia?” “The daughter of your mom’s classmate. She likes to call you ‘big brother’ on set to stir up rumors.” “She’ll be on set tomorrow. Be prepared.” … Before bed, I habitually scrolled through my phone and was shocked to find I was trending again – at #1 no less! The last time I trended was for criticizing Ryan. I had a bad feeling about this…

I clicked on the trending topic and saw it was full of people criticizing me. “She’s so calculating, riding coattails again.” “Wasn’t she his anti-fan before? Did Ryan get brainwashed or something?” “Acting so much, is she trying to use Ryan to break into showbiz?” “That face must have cost a pretty penny!” The internet moves so fast. Ryan and I just got our marriage certificate today and it’s already been exposed, with my face clearly visible. But we specifically chose a time when there would be few people around. How did we get photographed? I scrolled down and saw Ryan’s pinned Weibo post: “Let me introduce you all to my wife @FlowerFairy” Below was a photo of our marriage certificate with my ID photo clearly visible, no blurring. Damn it, backstabbed by my own teammate again. Ryan really can’t stand to see me have it too easy. I ran to pound on his bedroom door. After a few minutes he leisurely opened it, the picture of calm compared to my agitation. He even looked a bit smug. “Of course I had to announce my marriage. Otherwise wouldn’t I be deceiving my fans?” “I’m helping you. Didn’t you see you gained 100,000 followers?” I understood the logic, but did he realize how powerful his fanbase was? I’d be torn to shreds. I had been worried about how to face off against Olivia while keeping the marriage secret. Now I didn’t need to worry – I was already dead and buried. I tossed and turned all night. At breakfast I kept yawning, exhausted. This million dollars was really hard-earned. In contrast, Ryan looked refreshed and in a great mood. He even peeled an egg for me. I had to admit, there was a reason he had so many fangirls. Putting aside his acting skills, he was handsome with a great body. When he kept his mouth shut, he was quite pleasing to look at. As soon as we arrived at the filming location, I saw a group of fans waiting outside holding Ryan’s banners. I had to say, these fans had incredible mental fortitude. Just yesterday there was a huge uproar, but today they still came to support him. Maybe they only hated me, and were even more enamored with Ryan for being a “responsible man.” We reached Ryan’s rest area on set. I had just sat down when I saw someone walking towards me in the distance. An assistant carrying bags followed behind her. She had the aura of the main wife confronting the mistress. The female lead had finally arrived.

Olivia plopped down in the seat next to me and immediately launched into a tirade before I could say anything. “Ryan is just playing with you. He’ll come back to me eventually.” “He hasn’t introduced you to his parents yet, has he? His mom has always seen me as her daughter-in-law.” “If you want money, I can give it to you. Just leave him.” What an unoriginal opening. She really was a pampered young miss. I latched onto her last sentence, looking at her expectantly. “How much can you give me?” She was clearly taken aback, probably expecting me to nobly refuse and say love conquers all or some nonsense. The next moment she disdainfully tossed out a card. “There’s 500,000 on this.” I laughed. So even rich people could be stingy. I glanced to the side and saw Ryan, who should have been filming, standing not far away. He must have come to check on things during a break. I put on my brightest smile, went over to link arms with him, and called out loudly on purpose: “Honey, did you come looking for me after being apart for just a little while?” Ryan stared at me blankly, probably not expecting to have to act too. I directly dragged him in front of Olivia. “I’m so sorry, Miss Olivia. Our Ryan is quite clingy.” I looked up into his eyes. “Can you give me 500,000?” He handed me his phone. “Transfer however much you want yourself.” Olivia’s face turned pale after watching this scene. I handed her back the card on the table, patted her shoulder, and whispered in her ear: “Did you see? He’ll give me however much money I want.” “You want to be the other woman for love, but Ryan’s not interested in you.” Olivia stormed off, bumping into me resentfully as she left. First battle, victory! It wasn’t in vain that I’d watched so many idol dramas. Rich girls really do like to humiliate people with money. If she’d offered more, I might have accepted. After this incident, rumors spread that I had made Olivia cry. I successfully gained the label of “Ryan’s wife.”

After the marriage announcement, Ryan received many variety show invitations for married couples. He refused them all. I had ulterior motives – I wanted to use variety shows to improve my image, since in the public’s mind I was still his anti-fan. When we divorced in the future, wouldn’t I be cyberbullied by his fans? After he rejected the 8th olive branch, I carefully considered how to phrase it in a way he’d accept. “Actually, I think we could accept. You’ve never been on variety shows before – your first appearance would gain a lot of fans.” “People always see you in dramas. They must be curious what you’re like in private.” “Creating a loving husband image would increase your value even more.” After my coaxing, he signed a contract with a travel show. The show was called “A Different Journey” and featured 5 celebrity couples traveling together, with 24-hour footage of the guests’ lives. While promoting tourism, it also revealed how celebrity couples interacted. When the lineup was announced, it caused a stir online. I took this show very seriously – it was my chance for redemption. I watched many similar variety shows in advance to ensure I wouldn’t mess up. Ryan seemed much more relaxed. Although it was his variety show debut, he didn’t seem to care at all. After wrapping up his last drama, he spent every day at home eating and drinking as usual. On the day of filming, the show’s car came to pick us up at home. Apparently they wanted to start capturing footage from the moment we left. I got in the car and took a deep breath with my eyes closed. When I opened them, I found a plastic bag in front of me. I looked at Ryan’s outstretched hand in confusion. “Don’t you get carsick easily? Take this.” This guy had done his research. But I was too embarrassed to say it was just nerves, so I silently tucked the bag in my pocket.

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On Christmas Eve, I was forced to brave the bitter cold to deliver food, all in an attempt to earn money for my father’s medical treatment. As I handed the delivery to a customer around my age, he suddenly tipped the cake over. “What kind of delivery service is this? Do you know this cake was specially made for me by my mom?” he snapped. I was about to retort when two familiar figures appeared in the luxurious house behind him. It was my parents! My usually frugal father was now exuding an air of extravagance. “It’s just a cake. Our Jack is so outstanding, I’m giving him this house as a reward.” My typically modest mother, now dressed in high-end designer clothes seen on TV, gently held his hand. “It’s our precious only son’s birthday. We can’t let some dirty delivery girl ruin his mood. Here’s the watch you’ve always wanted, don’t be upset.” Jack threw the cake at me, giving me a meaningful look. “You can have it. Consider it dog food.” I was about to speak, still holding the cake, when my phone buzzed with a negative review notification. Looking at my frostbitten hands and the holes in my shoes, I felt a wave of desolation wash over me.

Because of Jack’s complaint, I had to compensate him for the four-figure cake. That was equivalent to my wages for delivering 300 orders! But at that moment, I couldn’t dwell on these details. The hallway of the mansion was so warm, yet why did I feel ice in my heart? The door opened again, and Jack threw out a gold necklace. I immediately recognized it as the birthday gift I had bought for my mom. Jack looked at me provocatively, “My mom didn’t know where to throw this trash. I think it suits a dog like you perfectly. Come on, bark for me.” He crossed his arms, laughing arrogantly. Seeing my silence, he continued: “You’re just an abandoned child. Born but not raised by your parents.” Faced with his repeated provocations, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I clenched my fist and rushed towards him, only to be met with the sound of a slamming door. Unwilling to end things so pathetically, I stood at the door, knocking repeatedly, trying to get my parents’ attention. But what came instead were several burly security guards. “The owners inside are my parents, you can’t kick me out,” I pleaded. The security guard looked me up and down with disdain, “In this community, houses start at eight figures. You don’t look like you’re worth more than 800 bucks. If you want to dream, do it at home.” With that, they all burst into laughter. One of the guards approached me with a taser, “I advise you to get lost. This isn’t a place where you can cause trouble as you please.” I had no choice but to pick up the broken necklace from the ground and flee. The cold wind cut through my delivery uniform like a knife. Just then, someone collapsed on the road ahead. To avoid causing further injury to the fallen person, I chose to fall deliberately. The cake rolled out, smearing my face. Lying on the ground, looking at the snowflakes falling from the sky, I could no longer hold back my tears. At that moment, a familiar ringtone sounded. It was the special ringtone I had set for my parents in case they needed to reach me urgently. My mom anxiously asked, “Why did it take you so long to answer the phone, son? I thought something had happened to you. It’s our fault for making you deliver food on Christmas Eve. We’re so sorry.” I tightened my grip on the phone, wanting to ask them why they had lied to me, but all that came out was a choked sob. My dad’s cough came through the line, “It’s all dad’s fault for being useless and burdening you.” On any other day, I would have immediately refuted this, patiently comforting them. But now, I didn’t want to bother. Hearing my silence, dad thought I was tired. “Child, tomorrow’s Christmas Day. Take a break, and let’s have a good holiday together as a family.” Mom added mysteriously, “I have a surprise for you tomorrow.” I managed to squeeze out a “Okay” through my sobs. A passerby, seeing me motionless, was about to call for an ambulance. Hearing that it would cost money, I instinctively got up. “I’m fine, no need to call 911. But she might need help,” I said, pointing to a figure not far away. Under the hat was an elderly woman with white hair. “You’re young, so we dared to help. But her? That’s probably too much. You’re just a delivery girl, better not get involved,” the passerby advised. The snow was falling heavier, and out-of-control vehicles were becoming more frequent. Looking at the lonely old woman lying on the ground, I thought of how no one cared about me either. Without hesitation, I helped the conscious but immobile old woman to safety and called for an ambulance. It was already 4 AM when I got home. Looking at myself covered in cake and dirt, I quietly said, “Happy birthday.” Today was my 22nd birthday. And my parents were spending it with love and money on someone who wasn’t even related to them.

I shivered through a quick shower and hurried back under the thick but ineffective blanket. Because we were poor, we rented a house in a remote suburb, and to save money, we hadn’t paid for heating. I used to wonder why my dad would always fall seriously ill every winter, and my mom would use the excuse of taking care of him to go with him. Now I understood they were just afraid of the cold and had hidden away in a luxurious house, living like royalty. When I was little and got sick, they would brave wind and rain to carry me to the hospital. Mom would try her best to keep the umbrella over me, not caring if she got wet herself. And dad, even when he tripped over a tree branch and fell into a puddle, would still protect me wholeheartedly. They only cared if I was hurt, not themselves at all. But how could these parents who loved me so much now bear to deceive me with fake illnesses, pretending to be poor and making me give up my studies to support them? I covered my eyes and suddenly laughed out loud. I was so presumptuous. The house they were in now was in the most upscale community in the city center. I couldn’t even afford the property management fees, let alone claim to support them. I was nothing more than their plaything. Their real son must be that Jack they doted on. Light gradually filtered through the rag-covered window. The alarm went off. It was 5 AM, time to start delivering food. Although the bed was cold, I indulged in a rare lie-in. This was the first time I had rested in the four years since I started delivering food at 18. The 8 AM alarm went off. Usually, this was when I would check on my dad’s condition. Looking at the alarm note: “I’d trade my life for dad’s health,” I suddenly found it laughable. It wasn’t until the sun was high that I finally felt some warmth. At 10 AM, my parents called. “Son, why didn’t you call today? Did something happen? Are you sick? You didn’t fall, did you?” Their anxious voices echoed in my ears, but I couldn’t feel any warmth. I didn’t know their acting skills were so good, performing their “concern” for their son so convincingly that I had always believed they truly loved me. “Lucy, Lucy, why aren’t you saying anything?” Faced with their constant calls, I sighed deeply, “I’m tired.” My parents were stunned, anxiously asking, “What’s wrong? Is work too hard?” But all they got in response was my heavy breathing. Since I started delivering food when I came of age, I had never once complained of being tired in front of them. After a moment, their voices sounded again. “Son, it’s dad’s fault for being useless. You’ve worked so hard. It’s too cold, don’t go out delivering today. If you get hurt, we’ll be heartbroken.” Mom immediately chimed in, “That’s right, today’s Christmas Day. Let’s have a good family reunion. Didn’t you always want to eat at that fancy steakhouse? My friend gave me some coupons, let’s go there today to celebrate your birthday!” “We’ve brought a cake for you too.” Their joyful tone couldn’t touch me. But I still obediently agreed, “Mm.” I wanted to see how long they could keep up this act, how real they could make it seem. I put on my best clothes and arrived at the agreed mall. This was my first time stepping into such a high-end place. Just as I was about to cross the road, a sports car suddenly stopped in front of me. I immediately recognized the person in the driver’s seat. Jack lowered his sunglasses and smirked at me, “Well, if it isn’t yesterday’s dog?” He patted his car, “My mom’s coming-of-age gift for me. Not bad, right?” He then flashed his wrist, the diamonds on his watch dazzling in the sunlight. “Huh? How come your mom didn’t give you a watch? Oh, I forgot, your parents don’t love you. This watch is worth seven figures. You couldn’t afford it even if you delivered food for a lifetime.” “Oh right, my parents specially stayed up with me until midnight yesterday. Mom even cooked a big feast for me herself. I remember we have the same birthday. I wonder what your parents prepared for you?” With that, he deliberately sped off in front of me, leaving me covered in dust. Watching his arrogant and unrestrained behavior, my heart sank even further. When I turned eighteen, my parents personally handed me the delivery kit, saying, “Our son is grown up now, he can earn money for the family.” Arriving at the steakhouse, my parents looked at me with tears in their eyes, hoping to see joy on my face. After all, this was the first time in my 22 years that I was eating at the fancy steakhouse I had always dreamed of. “Happy birthday, son. Make a wish and blow out the candles.” On the table was half of the cake that Jack had left over yesterday.

My mom followed my gaze to the cake, her expression a bit awkward. “Your dad is still undergoing treatment, but we still wanted to give you some sense of ceremony. The cake might be small, but it’s enough to carry your wishes. Tell us what gift you want, and we’ll get it for you.” Perhaps feeling guilty about giving Jack a mansion and an expensive watch yesterday, they were unusually generous to me today. “Really?” I asked. My parents nodded, “Of course. You’re our only child. If we’re not good to you, who else would we be good to?” Looking at the old clothes they had deliberately put on, I couldn’t help but laugh. Remembering Jack’s words, I looked intently at my mom and slowly opened my mouth. “I want to eat a meal you cook yourself.” My mom was taken aback. She clearly hadn’t expected that I, who had always been understanding and independent, would make such a request. As far as I could remember, she had never cooked a meal for me. I thought she didn’t know how to cook, so from the age of seven, I took on the responsibility of cooking, never complaining even when my hands were scalded or cut. Now I knew that her culinary skills were actually excellent; she just wasn’t willing to cook for me. She avoided my gaze and mumbled, “Son, mom wants to cook for you too, but mom has never cooked before. I’m afraid it won’t taste good. Choose another gift, okay?” “Then can you buy me a watch?” I pointed at the watch worn by someone at the next table. With these words, my parents fell silent. They exchanged a glance, and dad coughed a few times, covering his mouth. “Son, you have a phone, why do you need a watch? You know our current situation doesn’t allow for that. Look…” Mom immediately chimed in, “Lucy, we know you’re the most obedient. We don’t need to compare ourselves with others. Being together as a family is more important than anything. Such an expensive watch, we can’t afford it. Your dad’s illness, who knows how much more it will cost.” She wiped away a tear, her face full of sorrow. “You work so hard delivering food, you shouldn’t waste money like this.” My internal contempt reached its peak. It was just a watch worth a few hundred dollars, yet they thought it was expensive. But when they bought gifts worth millions for Jack, they didn’t hesitate at all. Seeing my silence, my parents immediately pulled me to sit down, putting the only chicken leg on the table into my bowl. “Son, eat up. You need to eat well to grow. You’re too thin now.” I forced a smile. How could I not be thin when I only ate one meal a day? If they really cared for me, why did they deceive me? Why did they say dad had cancer and needed treatment? Why did they say the family was so poor we could barely make ends meet? And why did they make me give up my studies to deliver food when they knew I wanted to study? “Mom, Dad, I want to go to college.” They instinctively exchanged a glance, their eyes revealing contempt. “Lucy, you’re not cut out for studying,” Mom said hesitantly. “Don’t you remember how low your SAT score was?” They even dared to mention the SAT. After I finished the math section, they put on an act of a relapse of an old illness. I had to give up the test and rush home. But what I faced was an empty room. They said they were already in the hospital, but when I rushed there, they said they had been transferred. By the time I finally found them, the test was long over. And all they said was a casual, “We’ve already been treated.” My dream was so easily destroyed by them. “Lucy, eat up.” The taste of the steak in my mouth was so bitter. Seeing my low spirits, my parents actively put food on my plate. After just half an hour, mom’s phone rang again. A flash of guilt crossed her eyes, and she immediately hung up. “These telemarketing calls are really frequent nowadays.” But as soon as she hung up, it rang again and again. She laughed dryly and stepped aside to answer the phone. A few minutes later, she returned, her face pale, and exchanged a glance with dad. “The hospital needs to do an urgent check-up. I need to take your dad there first.” I pretended to be anxious, “Mom, let me go with you.” They were startled and quickly waved their hands, “You’re tired from delivering food. Just go home and rest. I’ll take care of your dad. Someone in the family needs to earn money.” “This is my only day off in four years. Can’t you let me stay by your side?” I finally couldn’t suppress my grievance. With tears in my eyes, I looked at them stubbornly, begging them. My humble request seemed to make them waver. “Well… let’s sit for a bit longer.” But before they could sit down, their phones rang again. Dad showed the phone to mom, and their faces grew more anxious. “Lucy, you’re an adult now. Don’t be childish. You need to know what’s important. Your dad’s attending physician just messaged us to come over immediately.” I grabbed her hand, begging like a dog wagging its tail. “Can’t you stay to finish my last birthday before leaving?” Mom frowned, very impatient. “You have birthdays every year. What’s so important about one stupid birthday? Lucy Thompson, you’re being very inconsiderate.” She forcefully pulled her hand away, her nails leaving a long scratch on the back of my hand. Am I really that annoying? They’re not even willing to stay a bit longer. I’m supposed to be their biological child. Why can’t they spare even a little love for me? Why did they have to deceive me? I could no longer suppress the fact that my parents didn’t love me and buried my face in my hands, crying. Just as I was about to leave, someone suddenly sat down in the chair in front of me. “If you want to continue your studies, I can sponsor you. However, my team needs a semi-closed research period of ten years. I hope you’ll think it through before making a decision.” Suddenly, my phone received a message from an unknown number. [I just said I sprained my ankle, and your parents abandoned you to come to me. What does it matter if you’re blood-related? In your parents’ hearts, you’ll never measure up to me!] I tightened my grip on my phone, suddenly wanting to be willful for once. [Mom, I’ve been in a car accident.] The next second, my phone immediately rang. “Son, are you okay? Where are you? Mom and Dad will come right away.” I was about to speak when I faintly heard Jack’s exclamation, “My foot hurts so much! Is it broken? How am I going to attend Harvard if it’s broken?” Mom’s tone became even more urgent, but not for me. She casually brushed me off with a sentence, “If you’re hurt, go to the hospital quickly. Your dad’s condition is more critical, I have to go there first. I’ll come see you later. Mom knows you’re tough, you’ll be fine.” The black screen of my phone now seemed to be mocking me for how foolish I was. How dare I try to compete for affection with their beloved son? I looked at the person in front of me and finally made up my mind. “Alright, I agree. I’ll join your team.”

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The Beginning of a Nightmare ## The news of Christopher Gray, CEO of Gray Group, proposing to Evelyn Reed on a global live broadcast had taken the world by storm. As I walked home, I couldn’t avoid the massive billboard across the street showing the two of them locked in an embrace, their kiss frozen in time for everyone to admire. People were envious of Evelyn’s seemingly perfect life. But I knew the truth—if Evelyn ever fell in love with Christopher Gray, it would mark the beginning of her nightmare. Because no matter how much she dreamed, she could never become Mrs. Gray. Her moment in the spotlight would end with this grand proposal, no matter how dazzling it seemed. I had just stepped out of the grocery store with a bag of everyday essentials and a few ingredients for dinner. Cooking had become my way of passing time, a small distraction from the monotony of life. As I lifted my head, the giant screen on the skyscraper across the street caught my eye. Christopher Gray and a young woman were shown in a close embrace, their chemistry practically leaping off the screen. Even through a screen, their gazes lingered on each other, electric and intimate. He was tall, sharp-featured, and impossibly handsome. She was delicate and breathtakingly beautiful. They looked like the perfect couple, a match seemingly made in heaven. I recognized her immediately—Evelyn Reed. By now, everyone knew her name. She seemed to be one of those rare people blessed by the universe itself: stunning good looks, a petite, graceful figure, and eyes that could captivate anyone. It was said that from the moment Christopher Gray first saw her, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Love at first sight, they called it. And from that moment on, he poured his heart and soul into pursuing her. He orchestrated grand romantic gestures—naming his latest jewelry line after her, dedicating new luxury apartment buildings to her, even naming an amusement park after her. Everywhere Evelyn went, there were traces of Christopher Gray’s devotion. Standing on the sidewalk, I overheard two girls sipping bubble tea as they stared at the screen. “I’m so jealous of Evelyn,” one sighed. “Imagine having someone love you that much.” “Forget love,” the other replied. “Do you know how rich Christopher Gray is? That’s the real dream.” “She must’ve saved the entire galaxy in her past life to deserve this,” the first one added wistfully. I lowered my gaze and smiled faintly. If Evelyn didn’t love Christopher, maybe she could enjoy the life he was offering her. But most women would fall for a man like him, especially one who created a world of romance just for them. And Evelyn? An orphan who’d grown up with nothing? She didn’t stand a chance. My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen: “Hannah, I know who you are.” Two days ago, Evelyn Reed had added me on WhatsApp after getting my contact information through Christopher. I hesitated at first but ended up accepting her friend request. Now she’d sent me another message: “I’m getting engaged to Christopher soon. If you know what’s good for you, stay away from him.” I didn’t bother replying. Instead, I grabbed my groceries and made my way to the apartment complex across the street. When I reached my building, I noticed a sleek Porsche parked outside, gleaming under the streetlights. It was Christopher’s car. Dealing with Christopher Gray had always been a headache. He loved surrounding himself with beautiful women, which was his business. But for some reason, he never seemed willing to leave me alone.

I took the elevator up to my floor, and the moment I opened the door, Christopher greeted me. He took the grocery bag from my hands and grabbed a pair of slippers from the rack. “You’re back?” he asked casually. “What’s for dinner tonight?” He spoke like we were an old married couple, his tone natural and familiar, as if he belonged here. I sighed, took the slippers from him, and sat down on the bench to change shoes. Meanwhile, he carried the groceries into the kitchen like he owned the place. “How about braised pork?” he asked, glancing at me as he tied the bunny-print apron hanging by the wall around his waist. The sight was almost comically domestic. I leaned against the kitchen doorframe, watching as the exhaust fan hummed in the background, drowning out the quiet tension in the room. Christopher moved around the kitchen with ease, as if he’d done this a hundred times before. “Braised pork sounds fine,” I said finally. “But what are you doing here? Don’t you have work?” “Nothing urgent at the office,” he replied with a smile. “Oh, by the way, the pink diamond necklace you wanted has been set. I brought it over for you.” “Christopher,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “We need to talk.” “Sure,” he said easily, tilting his head and flashing me a boyish grin. He had a face that seemed to have been crafted with care—handsome, charismatic, and utterly disarming. “Evelyn Reed,” I began, meeting his gaze. “You proposed to her on a global live broadcast. You arranged a citywide light show for her birthday. You even filled the sky with fireworks for her.” “And earlier this year, when she was in a car accident and needed a blood transfusion, you made a big public scene about it.” “Christopher, with your resources, you could’ve handled all of those things quietly. But you didn’t. You wanted the whole world to know how much you love her.” Christopher chuckled lightly as he sliced the meat. “Exactly,” he said. “When you’re trying to win someone over, you have to go all out. A little showmanship never hurts.” “Girls love this kind of thing.” The meat went into the pot, and the blue flame flickered beneath it. I sighed. “So, are you planning to marry her?” I asked. Christopher turned to look at me, his smile as charming as ever. “Hannah,” he said smoothly, “how could I possibly marry her?” “She’s just a bit of fun. Life’s too long not to enjoy a little romance along the way.” “I’m young. Why not indulge in a few fleeting adventures while I can?” I had expected this answer. But I tried to reason with him anyway. “Christopher, you could marry her. I’ll talk to my family, convince them to support the idea. We can finalize our divorce. Yes, splitting the assets would be tricky, but—” Before I could finish, Christopher waved me off, laughing. “Hannah, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for some young boy,” he teased. “Who is it? Some hotshot actor? A college kid?” “Let me meet him first. I’ll judge if he’s worthy of you.” The words I wanted to say caught in my throat.

Christopher glanced at me, his smile calm and unshaken. “If there’s no one else,” he said lightly, “then let’s drop this subject altogether.” “Everyone needs a legally recognized partner in life. If I have to choose, I want it to be you—now and forever.” I sighed deeply. There was no reasoning with him. “You’re toying with Evelyn’s feelings,” I said bluntly, unable to hide my frustration. “When have I ever toyed with anyone’s feelings?” Christopher’s tone remained even. “She came from nothing, and I gave her wealth, security, and everything she could ever dream of.” “I even created the kind of romance she wanted.” “In this relationship, I’ve given my time, my energy, and my sincerity.” “Every time, I’ve been serious.” “As for the rest, if she’s smart, she’ll understand.” I understood. But that didn’t mean everyone else would. My childhood was spent abroad, watching my father surrounded by countless lovers—both men and women. It became normal for me to see relationships tangled and messy. I hated it. I longed for the kind of love I read about in books: two people, committed to each other for life, growing old hand in hand. But I knew that wasn’t realistic. My older brother had once jokingly said something crude: “If a rich man isn’t cheating, it’s because he’s either ugly or broke.” In elite families like ours, the idea of staying loyal to one person forever was laughable. I met Christopher Gray when I was seventeen. By eighteen, my family had arranged for us to marry, signing a contract that tied our fates together. I didn’t object. After all, if I had to marry for the sake of family alliances, wasn’t it a blessing that my match happened to be someone as devastatingly handsome as Christopher? Later, I returned to this city to attend college and started living a quiet, almost reclusive life. I avoided parties, social events, and all the performative aspects of being a public figure. I hated being in the spotlight, hated the empty conversations of charity galas and the superficial smiles that came with them. Instead, I spent my time watching TV shows, reading novels, and working on my art. Christopher would visit me occasionally. We’d cook together, share meals, and talk about mundane things. Sometimes, he’d stay overnight, but he always slept in the guest room while I stayed in the master bedroom. It was a peaceful, uneventful existence. But tonight’s dinner didn’t go the way it usually did. Just as we set the food on the table, a loud knock echoed through the apartment. I thought it might be the building manager, but when I opened the door, Evelyn stood there, her face pale and stormy. The woman who had become the envy of everyone—rumored to have it all, both love and money—looked anything but glamorous now. The moment she saw me, she raised her hand to slap me. I caught her wrist mid-air. I’d trained in self-defense and taekwondo; dealing with someone like her was hardly a challenge. “Are you here to see Christopher?” I asked calmly. Her eyes immediately filled with tears, and her voice trembled as she pointed at me, shouting: “Hannah, do you have no shame? Stealing someone else’s boyfriend?” Her anger was so intense she could barely form a coherent sentence. I reached into the shoe cabinet, pulling out a pair of spare slippers. “If you’re here, you might as well join us for dinner,” I said with a small smile. “Christopher’s braised pork is pretty good.” Before she could respond, Christopher grabbed the slippers from my hand and tossed them back into the cabinet. Instantly, his expression hardened, his charming demeanor vanishing. “What are you doing here?” he demanded coldly, his voice sharp and unyielding. “Go home,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Don’t make me say it again.” Evelyn’s beautiful eyes brimmed with tears, glistening so heartbreakingly that even I felt a pang of discomfort just looking at her. So, I turned to Christopher and said, “You should take Miss Reed home and explain everything to her.” Then, worried Evelyn might get the wrong idea, I added with a light smile, “Miss Reed, I’m not Mr. Gray’s lover.” Because I wasn’t. I was merely his wife in name only. Christopher would never love me. He couldn’t. All his grand displays of affection were for Evelyn—or perhaps shared among others. Maybe that’s why I never let myself fall for him. Because when I looked at Christopher and Evelyn, I could stay detached, calm, and unaffected. Like watching a TV drama. No matter how gripping the plot was, I was just an outsider. Christopher’s expression darkened slightly. I guessed he hadn’t expected Evelyn, the naïve girl he’d pampered for over a year, to storm in like this, catching him off guard. If anything, I should’ve felt awkward, embarrassed, maybe even ashamed. After all, I was the one caught in the middle of this mess. But Evelyn wasn’t ready to leave. For the past year and a half, Christopher had chased her relentlessly, making her believe she was his one and only. To Evelyn, she wasn’t just his priority—she was irreplaceable, the center of his world. And now, discovering that the man who worshipped her might care about someone else? It shattered everything. “Chris,” Evelyn choked out, pointing at me in anger. “Tell me, who is she to you?” “Do you think I don’t know?” “She’s just your little pet, isn’t she? A goldfinch you keep in a cage.” Her voice cracked as she continued, “You said you loved me. You said I was the only one for you.” The situation was getting awkward, so I stepped back, giving them space to argue. Christopher grabbed her arm and dragged her out into the hallway, his face cold. I quietly shut the door. I didn’t pay for VIP access to this drama, so I had no interest in hearing or seeing what came next. I assumed Christopher would leave with Evelyn. After all, everyone said he loved her desperately, passionately, with the kind of devotion that could move mountains. But about thirty minutes later, Christopher returned. He walked in to find me sitting cross-legged on the couch, eating dinner and laughing at some sitcom on TV. His expression darkened as he scolded, “Hannah, can’t you be a little more careful?” I blinked at him, confused. “Careful about what?” He ignored me, grabbed a bottle of red wine, and poured himself a glass. I shook my head. That particular bottle of wine was one my brother had brought me from a French vineyard. I’d kept it on the shelf because the bottle looked nice and added a touch of elegance to the apartment. Now Christopher was drinking it like it was tap water. “Someone knocked on your door, and you didn’t even check who it was first,” he said, his tone accusatory. “What if it had been someone dangerous?” “Hannah, listen to me,” he continued. “You shouldn’t stay here anymore. This building’s security is a joke. I’ve already prepared a place for you at Pear Ridge Estate. You can move there in a few days.” I shook my head. Pear Ridge Estate was a luxury villa complex, a playground for the wealthy. The grounds were meticulously maintained, but everything felt artificial—too polished, too calculated. The place lacked warmth, like wearing a mask all the time. Here, in this modest apartment complex, you could hear neighbors arguing, kids laughing, dogs barking. It was messy and alive, full of humanity. Even if I didn’t fully belong here, I felt more human being surrounded by it. “Even if I’d asked who was at the door, and Evelyn said her name, do you think I wouldn’t have opened it?” I asked with a smile. Christopher didn’t reply. Instead, he casually added a piece of braised pork to mine. “You’re too thin,” he said, his tone softening. “Eat more.” For a moment, the scene felt familiar, comfortable. Like we’d been married forever, with no need for formalities or polite distance. He didn’t seem like the CEO of a massive corporation, and I—well, I was still just me. His phone buzzed, pulling him out of the moment. He glanced down at the screen, and from where I was sitting, I caught a glimpse of his reaction. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his expression shifted into something… different. Curiosity got the better of me, and I leaned over to peek at his phone. A photo filled the screen. A young woman dressed in a maid costume, complete with bunny ears, black stockings, and impossibly long legs.

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I opened my email to check the exhibition details that the gallery assistant had organized for me. Just then, a Facebook Messenger window popped up in the top right corner. The avatar was of Theo Carr, from years ago. [Natasha, I miss you.] [For all these years, I’ve been waiting for a chance to walk back into your life.] My heart skipped a beat. These were the exact words Theo had confessed to me when we were 20. But since we moved abroad, his Messenger account had been deactivated. I was stunned. After a moment, I replied: [Walk back in? Are you sure it’s not just to hurt me again?] He responded quickly: [Who are you?] 1 [You’re not Natasha. She went to a painting lecture.] [Who are you? Why are you saying these things?] [Is there some misunderstanding?] The messages kept flashing on the screen. Just then, the studio door creaked open, and Theo walked in, carrying the faint scent of ink. It was the smell I used to know so well. Today was the day before the exhibition we’d been preparing for together. But just yesterday, at an art event, I saw him acting closely with the daughter of a famous art critic. As I looked at him, memories of all those late nights we spent creating art together rushed back. I wanted to ask him about the girl, but the words wouldn’t come out. Maybe I was just overthinking it. I’d dressed carefully, wearing an elegant dress, hoping he’d explain things on his own. I wanted to give him and us a chance. He quickly looked away and walked past me toward the easel, picking up a painting to inspect. He said, “I’m just checking this painting to get ready for tomorrow’s setup.” He didn’t notice my outfit or the way I’d styled my hair. Meanwhile, the messages kept flashing. [Do you know Natasha? You have to keep this a secret.] The sound of him adjusting the easel echoed through the studio, and it pierced my heart. I lowered my head to hide my disappointment. A month ago, I’d found a delicate box in his desk drawer. Inside was a unique necklace, with a card that said: [To my Muse.] For five years, I’d put my artistic dreams aside to support his career, barely buying myself any expensive jewelry. He’d kept it hidden so carefully that I thought it was a surprise for me. I’d carefully returned the box to its place and made sure everything was tidied up, not leaving a trace. Since then, I hadn’t mentioned anything about special occasions, afraid to ruin whatever he had planned. But he never acted like he was preparing a surprise. Theo set the easel down and started to leave. I instinctively called out, “Theo.” “Hm?” He turned, looking impatient. “Today…” I started. He cut me off, “I’m taking Kate to pick out decorations for the exhibition. She’s better at this kind of thing.” The door slammed shut behind him. It was like the final blow to any hope I had left. He didn’t care about us at all. I walked into the studio, opened the drawer, and saw the necklace box was gone. The messages kept coming. [You want Natasha to be happy too, right? I’m going to love her for the rest of my life and give her all the good things.] I thought back to the time when we were 20. Back then, Theo would go all over the city’s museums and galleries to help me find inspiration, and when I was feeling down, he’d sit with me by the Lake all night. I had once been loved so purely. But now, everything had changed. I watched him drive away from the window. Kate Hardy sat in the passenger seat, holding a bouquet and smiling brightly. Another message popped up. [I want to surprise Natasha. You understand, don’t you?] The sky darkened, and clouds gathered, almost like a bad omen. In a hopeless daze, I typed on the keyboard: [Natasha is already heartbroken. Theo doesn’t love her anymore. Nothing can go back.] [No way.] [Who are you?] I closed Messenger, and tears flooded my eyes. Then my phone buzzed with a gossip notification from the art world. [Famous artist Theo seen with Kate, an art critic’s daughter, suspected romance.] [Theo’s new relationship sparks debate. Could it be related to art resources?] [Is the five-year relationship between Natasha and Theo about to end?] The photos showed Theo and Kate interacting intimately at the art event. In one picture, she was wearing the bracelet that Theo had promised to give me last year for my birthday. I scrolled through the messages numbly. Each photo and each comment felt like a needle stabbing my heart. I stayed in the studio until late, watching the city’s lights go out one by one. Then I got a photo from a friend on WhatsApp. In it, Theo and Kate were asleep in each other’s arms in a luxurious hotel suite.

I gave a bitter smile. I had always thought the necklace was for me, but it was meant for Kate. The bracelet he promised me was now on her wrist. I signed the statement about withdrawing from the art exhibition, took off the pendant Theo had given me, and placed it on top. It was from our first year together. He sold his first painting and used the money to buy me the pendant. Back then, we both had dreams of becoming artists. Life was tough, but we were hopeful. I practiced drawing day and night to improve my skills. Theo would grind away at his work beside me, encouraging me. He ran around submitting his work everywhere, facing rejection after rejection, but never giving up. Finally, a small gallery selected one of his paintings for display. When it sold, he was so excited that he bought me the pendant. Tired but thrilled, he placed it in my hand. “Natasha,” he said, “this pendant is like our love. It’s warm and lasting. Things will get better and better.” I nodded, tears welling up. He hugged me tightly, his voice firm. “Natasha, I’ll love you forever. We’ll achieve our dreams together.” “Password incorrect.” “Natasha, open the door,” Theo called out, interrupting my thoughts. I opened the door and he staggered in, reeking of alcohol. He muttered, “Natasha, the art exhibition is going great. We’re going to make it. I’m going to buy you a huge studio so you can create freely.” I helped him to the sofa, watching him mumble. “Natasha, are you happy?” A bitter feeling rose in me. He already had resources and fame, but our relationship had long since changed. Since he met Kate, he’d been attending higher-end events and meeting more influential people. He’d go to art gatherings with her, creating special works just for her, while I was left alone in the studio. I dealt with creative blocks alone, faced criticism from peers myself, and spent countless nights waiting for him to come home. I was tired. No matter how much love I had, I couldn’t handle this anymore. “Natasha, I feel terrible,” Theo mumbled, tugging at his collar. I reached to undo the button for him. Suddenly, I saw a tattoo on the inside of his wrist. My name was on it. But Theo had never gotten a tattoo. A strange memory rushed in. Back in college, a classmate had whispered to me, “Theo went to a tattoo shop. Guess what he got? He tattooed your name on his wrist. He said he wanted everyone to know how much he loves you and that his love for you is unique.” The two memories tangled in my mind. I suddenly dropped his hand and rushed back to my computer. I opened Messenger and saw a message: [Theo will never stop loving Natasha. I’ll prove it to you.] There was a picture of him getting a tattoo. The timestamp was from last night. The one typing on the other end seemed to be the 20-year-old Theo. And he could change things in the present. I slumped in the chair, my heart a mix of emotions.

The person on the other side was really the 20-year-old Theo, the boy who once loved me with his whole heart. [Who are you really, and why are you saying this? I’ll get to the bottom of this.] I could almost picture him frowning. Tears blurred my vision, and my mind drifted back to those days when we were 20. Back then, Theo would scrimp and save for months just to buy me a set of limited-edition paints. He would watch me anxiously from the sidelines at art competitions, more excited than I was. For my birthday, he’d carefully planned a solo exhibition just for the two of us, showing only the paintings he’d made for me. The boy was passionate and sincere, loving me with everything he had. But now, he had hurt me deeply. My hands shook as I typed: [I’m Natasha, 25-year-old Natasha.] There was silence from the other side. I knew he probably didn’t believe it. [I know you don’t believe me. This afternoon, Natasha will faint in the studio from overwork.] He didn’t reply. After I passed out, Theo would take good care of me. He’d make nourishing soups, encourage me to rest, and tell me not to give up on painting. I sat up in the studio, not having slept a wink all night. The morning came, and I got ready to go back to work. But suddenly, dizziness overwhelmed me, and I collapsed to the ground. I hadn’t been resting properly for the exhibition, and my body had finally given out. In the bedroom, Theo’s phone rang. His soft voice came over. “Babe, how was the meeting yesterday? What do you want to eat today? I’ll have it delivered to you. Don’t overwork yourself. Take care. Okay, I’ll come find you after I’m done here.” I saw a candy on the floor, the one Caleb Burke had left when he came to visit. I struggled to reach it and popped it in my mouth, tasting the sweetness mixed with a hint of sourness. A little while later, I regained some strength, sitting up. My hair was messy, and I looked a mess. Theo walked out of the bedroom. He asked, “Natasha, what’s going on? You’re being so careless.” Before I could respond, he continued, “Kate wants a painting related to the exhibition theme. Can you make time to do it today? I’ll pick it up tonight.” I stared at him, incredulous. “I almost passed out just now, and all you care about is Kate’s painting?” Theo sighed impatiently, “Don’t overreact. It’s not the first time you’ve fainted. Get to work and don’t waste time.” His words hit me like a knife. I said, “Theo, we’re done.”

Theo frowned. “What are you talking about? Just because I asked you to draw a picture?” I picked up the resignation statement on the table and handed it to him. I said, “Sign it. Once you do, you can be with Kate without any worries.” He retorted, “When did I say I wanted to be with Kate? We’re just work partners. Stop being unreasonable.” Theo snatched the statement, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it to the ground. He huffed, “Can you grow up a little and stop overthinking everything? Kate has been a huge help in promoting our art exhibition. You should understand that.” I looked at him, feeling nothing but cold sorrow. I countered, “Understand? Should I understand you attending events with her and giving her all the care that was supposed to be mine? I gave up my creative work for our exhibition, and this is how you treat me.” Theo averted his gaze. His phone beeped with a text message. He glanced at it, his expression shifting. He said, “I have something to do. We’ll talk about this later.” With that, he hurried out. As the door closed, it felt like my heart closed too. I opened WhatsApp and sent a message to the gallery owner. [Mr. Ross, I’m sorry, but I can’t continue with the exhibition preparation. Sorry for the trouble.] After handling that, I went home, lay on my bed, and let silent tears fall. Just then, the Messenger notification sounded. [Are you really Natasha, the Natasha from the future?] I sat up, staring at the computer screen. [Yes.] He began to type: [In the future, do I really hurt you?] I could feel his pain and disbelief. [Yes.] He typed again: [I’m sorry.] Tears streamed down my face. I: [No need to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong yet.] Theo: [Can you tell me what I did? Or is there anything I can do for you?] I stared at the screen, a thought forming. I wondered if the 20-year-old Theo could change everything. I remembered the accident that caused me to lose my unborn child, leaving me unable to have children. With trembling fingers, I typed: [There is.] [Stay away from me. Don’t appear in my life again.]

There was a long silence. I thought he wouldn’t reply anymore. “Natasha.” The door burst open suddenly, and Theo stormed in angrily. “You really want to quit the exhibition preparation? And you told Mr. Ross about it?” He grabbed my shoulders tightly, his eyes full of fury. I noticed the tattoo on his wrist had faded a lot, clearly from removal treatment. “You got rid of the tattoo?” I asked in surprise. Theo released me, looking uncomfortable. “Tattoos are childish. Besides, Kate might misunderstand.” “Misunderstand? In your eyes, I’m that insignificant?” I sneered. “I just thought the tattoo wasn’t appropriate. Don’t overthink it,” Theo tried to explain. I shouted, “Enough! Theo, you attended events with Kate, gave her gifts, and even spent our anniversary with her. And you think I’m overthinking? When I lost the baby, where were you? At an art gala with her.” Theo’s face turned pale. He was lost for words. His phone rang again. He glanced at it and grew anxious. He said, “Natasha, I have an emergency. We’ll talk when I get back.” He hurried out again. I watched him leave, feeling nothing but despair. On Messenger, 20-year-old Theo sent a message. [Natasha, I can’t forgive the future me. Don’t forgive him either. I’ll find a way to make things right.] I started packing my things, ready to leave this place filled with memories. Just then, my phone buzzed with a text from Caleb. [Natasha, I’m back in the country. Can we meet?] I hesitated, then replied: [Okay.] We arranged to meet at a coffee shop. The moment I walked in, the fragrance of coffee beans filled the air. The café was adorned with wooden furniture and paintings. Caleb still had that artistic vibe, though his eyes held more maturity now. “Natasha, I’ve always been thinking of you, knowing you weren’t doing well,” he said with concern. “It’s all in the past,” I smiled bitterly. “Actually, I’ve always had feelings for you. That hasn’t changed,” Caleb said sincerely. I was taken aback, looking at him with mixed emotions. Memories of the time we spent together discussing art flooded back. He had always offered unique insights that inspired me, but my eyes had only been on Theo. “I know I realized too late that you weren’t happy. But I still hope you’ll give me a chance to take care of you.” Caleb held my hand. I looked at him, feeling a slight warmth in my heart. Just then, the Messenger notification sounded. I opened it to see a message from the 20-year-old Theo. [Natasha, I did it. I’ve changed everything.]

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To save my girlfriend Irene Kemp, who was injured in a car accident, I, Antonio Henson, ended up blind and hospitalized. Irene bought me a watch worth over a hundred million dollars, but her old flame, Jason Evans, replaced it with a fake right in front of me. He even mouthed to Irene. “After all, he’s blind and can’t see. What’s the difference between real and fake?” Irene, who had always loved me deeply, didn’t stop him. She personally put the cheap fake watch on my wrist and comforted me, saying. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you. On the 15th of next month, we’ll get married. I’ve invited the media. The whole world will witness our happiness.” I smiled without saying a word. What she didn’t know was that I had already restored my sight with the help of a system and had applied for a way back. At the wedding next month, what she would be waiting for would be nothing but my cold, lifeless body. “Mr. Henson, you’re truly fortunate to have such a loving wife.” In the hospital room, the nurse, who had witnessed everything, was insincerely flattering me. But I stayed silent. The whole world knew that my wife, Irene, loved me deeply. As the heiress to a wealthy family, she humbled herself to be with me. She had openly pursued me for seven years before finally winning my heart. Our love story was well-known and envied by many. I still remember that one time I had fallen into a deep sleep and missed her call. She got so frantic that she mobilized the entire national media to find me, making a huge scene that everyone knew about. When she found me, she rushed into my arms, crying and panicking, ordering me not to leave her sight or else she would go crazy. Everyone said that the Kemp family’s heiress was a woman of deep love. At the time, I believed the same and was deeply moved by her affection. To repay her, as someone who had crossed over from another world, I chose not to take the reward and go home after completing my mission. Instead, I stayed by her side, helping her take control of her family’s fortune and rise to the top. I even became her personal bodyguard, stepping in whenever she faced danger. Even after I went blind, I didn’t care. But to better care for and protect her, I made a deal with the system, exchanging twenty years of my life for my sight. Before I could even tell her this good news, I saw Jason, whom she once loved, standing right next to her. During the three months I couldn’t see, he had been by Irene’s side every day, even swapping out the gift in front of me. What I couldn’t understand even more was that Irene, who had witnessed everything, actually allowed his actions… As I was lost in thought, Irene’s best friend pushed open the door, glanced at me lying in bed, and said with a smile. “Irene really loves you. She’s already asked me to hurry up and transfer the shares to you.” She tossed the documents in my direction casually, but then her expression changed as she exchanged words with Irene through lip reading, her face filled with disdain. “Irene, you don’t really want to marry this blind man, do you?” “Everyone in the circle knows that you’ve been chasing after him so hard just to make Jason come back to you. “Now that Jason is back by your side, how long do you plan to play this game? Are you planning to have your cake and eat it too?” Upon hearing this, Irene’s face turned a little pale, and she mouthed back angrily. “A missed opportunity is gone for good. I’ve really fallen in love with Antonio, and he is the only man I will ever consider my husband. “Don’t bring up this nonsense again. If you do and he finds out the truth, you, the Hardin family, will be out of the picture.” Her friend fell silent, too afraid to say anything more. The Kemp family was powerful, and with my help, Irene had taken control of the family business. Her best friend’s family was nothing more than a beggar, relying on the Kemp family for scraps. They didn’t dare to act out of line. Jason, standing to the side, glanced at us with a flicker of regret in his eyes, then quickly tried to change the subject. “Enough. If it stays too quiet, Antonio might catch on. What should we do then?” Irene paused for a moment, gathering her emotions. She squeezed my hand and, as always, spoke softly. “Antonio, do you like the gift?” The 5% equity transfer document was something I had received when I was being transferred to a new hospital. Irene had promised it in front of the media during an interview. At the time, I was confused. She had given me many things over the years, but the one thing she never dared to give me was money. When I asked her about it, she simply smiled and said she was afraid that if I had money, I might change. When she promised me the shares, I teased her, asking. “Are you not afraid I’ll turn bad now, Ms. Kemp?” Irene pulled me closer, hugged me tightly, and whispered, “Silly, you’d be willing to give up your life for me. What could I possibly be afraid of?” At that moment, my heart raced, full of excitement and happiness. I thought Irene’s love for me had grown deeper, and I was determined to stay by her side forever. But now, as I opened the contract, I saw that while it did indeed transfer 5% of the Kemp Group’s shares, the beneficiary listed at the bottom was Jason’s name. I let go of the contract with a bitter smile. It turned out that the perfect love I thought I had was nothing but a lie. The money was a lie, and so was her love. Seeing my lack of interest, Irene assumed it was because I couldn’t accept the unseen truth. As usual, she pinched my cheek and softly comforted me. “Don’t be sad. You’ll be discharged today, and I’ll take you to try on your wedding dress. “At the wedding in fifteen days, I’ll make sure you become famous.” For the first time, I didn’t respond enthusiastically. Instead, I calmly took off my fake watch. I silently submitted a request to the system to return home.

The system quickly came online with a reply. “Dear host, since you’ve missed the best time to leave this world, if you wish to leave now, you must die a tragic death to do so.” Without hesitation, I agreed. Even though there was nothing in this world worth staying for, I didn’t want to face Irene’s fake smile again. The system notified me that I could return in fifteen days. I couldn’t help but reflect on the coincidence of the timing. Just then, Irene spoke anxiously. “If you don’t like the watch, I can get you something else.” Something else fake, perhaps? I shook my head and politely declined. “No, I don’t need anything.” Irene’s heart skipped a beat, and she had a strange, uneasy feeling that what I said was about the watch, but maybe not. She anxiously pulled me into her arms, greedily seeking my warmth. Jason watched the scene, his eyes turning red with envy. He spoke up to remind her. “Ms. Kemp, the staff has been waiting for a while. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late.” Reluctantly, Irene let me go and started packing up to take me out of the hospital. But as she comforted me and chatted, she managed to hold Jason’s hand with one free hand. I turned numbly toward the window. It turned out that Irene’s heart was big enough to divide between two people. The car ride was silent. Because of my eyesight, Irene had to arrange for the wedding to take place downstairs in her villa. Though the wedding setup was still in its early stages, it was clear that Irene had put a lot of thought into it. The staff was waiting, ready to guide us through the process. Irene led me onto the stage, with Jason standing between us, holding the microphone as the emcee. “Mr. Henson, do you take Ms. Kemp to be your wife, for richer or for poorer…” He passionately finished reading the vows and, along with everyone else in the audience, waited for me to say the words. “I do.” But I didn’t speak. Irene tugged at my sleeve, and even the staff was about to step in to hurry me. Then, the stage suddenly collapsed. “Watch out!” Irene shouted and pushed me toward the area where the stage was falling while she rushed to shield Jason. I was hit on the head, blood spilling everywhere, while Jason was unharmed. Jason stared at Irene, who had risked her life to protect him in that dangerous moment. Emotions surged in his eyes, and he could no longer hold back. He shouted at her. “You clearly love me more, so why won’t you give me another chance?”

The loud shout snapped Irene back to reality. She quickly shook off Jason’s hand and rushed to my side, her face full of worry as she asked, “Antonio, are you okay? I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” She helped the staff lift me up, and when she saw the wound on my head, she angrily scolded them, making them look down in shame. Once she was done scolding, Irene held me tightly, her voice trembling as she said, “It’s okay now. I’ll never let you get hurt again.” If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would’ve believed through her voice that she held nothing but concern for me. But now, seeing her hypocritical face, I just felt disgusted. I would’ve died for her, yet she pushed me, the blind one, into danger to save Jason. There was indeed a safety hazard on stage, but if Irene hadn’t pushed me, I wouldn’t have been injured. Thankfully, the frame wasn’t heavy. I only scraped my skin a little, so there was no major harm. Irene took me inside and grabbed the first aid kit. Her gaze stayed fixed on me, and when she saw I hadn’t brought up Jason’s words, she awkwardly smiled faintly and explained, “Someone must have forgotten to turn off their phone during the short play. That line was really embarrassing.” I silently watched her lie, too tired to expose it. She quickly cleaned my wound and apologized, “It’s all my fault for not taking better care of you. You just got out of the hospital, and now you’re hurt again. I’ll go make you some nourishing soup.” She left, and not long after, a dark shadow loomed over me. I looked up and met Jason’s troubled eyes. He stared into my eyes for a long time. Finally, he spoke. “Antonio… your eyes aren’t really blind, are they?” I froze for a moment, instinctively looking at him again, a hint of confusion in my gaze. Jason let out a cold laugh as if he’d figured it out. “You’ve been showing me a lot of clues that you can see. For example, when you received the fake watch, your eyes dimmed. When you saw my name on the contract, I saw a flash of hurt in your eyes. When the stage collapsed, you instinctively raised your hand to block… “All of that didn’t escape me.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. The truth was, I hadn’t even tried to hide it. But Irene, who always claimed to love me deeply, never noticed. Instead, it was Jason, someone who didn’t know me well, who saw through it first. I didn’t respond. Yet Jason kept murmuring to himself, confusion written all over his face. “Wait… Irene deliberately staged this accident just to have your corneas transplanted to me. “I really regained my sight because of it, but how can you see?” I stood there, stunned, a chill creeping down my spine. No wonder… I remembered only faintly injuring myself and losing consciousness, never damaging my eyeball. So why couldn’t I see? It turned out that Irene, the one I trusted most, had secretly given my eyes to Jason. Even though my heart had already grown numb, the pain still hit me all at once. All the love I had poured out, in the end, was wasted. Jason hadn’t stopped there. He kept saying. “Antonio, since you’ve seen it all, you know Irene has always loved me. “Don’t be fooled by her pretending to care about you. It’s all just to make me turn back to her. “I only said I needed a cornea, and she gave you up for me. “If you know what’s good for you, stay out of the way. She isn’t someone a guy like you can ever match.” He said his cruel words and left, smugly satisfied. What he didn’t know was that the recorder in my pocket had been running the whole time, capturing everything he said.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, fifteen days passed. The wedding day arrived. Many guests had gathered. Both Irene’s and my parents had passed away, so her relatives were the ones hosting the ceremony. She pulled me to the entrance to greet the guests. But everyone could see that Irene and Jason were dressed in matching wedding outfits, while I was only wearing a plain suit. The guests gave me scornful looks yet still spoke their blessings. “Congratulations, wishing you a lifetime of happiness and many children.” Before I could say a word, Jason walked right past me to thank them. “Thank you, please come in.” The atmosphere froze. Irene turned to glare at him, silently mouthing words. “Jason, I already agreed to have a wedding with you first. If you push your luck any further, get out now.” Jason quickly apologized, claiming he had made a mistake and wouldn’t do it again. But he cast a smug glance my way, flaunting how Irene was tolerating him. I stayed silent. Irene, worried I wasn’t feeling well, asked someone to help me upstairs to rest. I lay down for only a short while. The music changed to a more festive tune. The caregiver, who should have been by my side, had gone off to join the excitement. I got up, walked to the window, and looked down at the grand wedding banquet below. The venue was decorated beautifully, with flower girls scattering petals as the stunning bride walked down the aisle. A helicopter hovered above, dropping a huge, eye-catching banner that made the crowd below scream in excitement. The banner displayed Irene and Jason’s wedding photo, with their names clearly written underneath. The emcee didn’t even take the microphone but simply pointed to a giant screen on the side. Everyone turned to look, and the screen showed a slideshow of their sweet and happy photos together. Once the photos ended, their wedding vows silently scrolled across the screen, and the ceremony continued. Irene, with tears in her eyes, silently responded, “I do.” She extended her hand, and Jason slid the wedding ring onto her finger. They exchanged a brief, light kiss. The guests below erupted in applause, their faces all beaming with joy, though not a single sound came from them. Even though I had expected this, I still couldn’t help but clench my fists. The woman who once claimed to love me the most married another man right in front of me. When their wedding ceremony finally came to an end, Jason, still clearly enjoying himself, took the microphone and assumed the role of the host. He spotted me watching from the window and, with a teasing smile, shouted loudly, “Please welcome the groom!” At that moment, everyone suddenly looked up and realized that I had witnessed the entire scene. Irene froze for a moment, her heart racing, but quickly remembered that I couldn’t possibly see her. She sighed in relief, then scolded, “Where did everyone go? How could they leave the groom standing by the window alone? It’s dangerous! Go help him!” The servants, who had been watching the show, immediately rushed over to me. I stepped forward, feeling the breeze, spread my arms wide, and leaped from the top of the building, about 32 feet high. Just then, my head hit the ground with a sickening thud.

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I stumbled upon a message from another woman on his phone: “I got a new dress. Want to come over tonight and see it?” The photo attached showed a skimpy piece of black lace, barely covering anything. Enraged, I confronted him. He brushed it off as a joke with a coworker, even turning it on me, suggesting I was making something out of nothing. Worse, he insinuated I had something going on with his brother. So, I actually turned to his brother. His brother is 6’2″, muscular, handsome, wealthy, and influential. I wasn’t really at a loss. **Chapter 1** The black lace in the photo was ridiculously small, delicately held between two fingers with red nail polish. Due to the angle, a hint of cleavage was visible in the photo. Evan emerged from the bathroom. “I have a party tonight. I’ll probably be back late, so don’t wait up.” “You know you don’t enjoy these parties; otherwise, I’d have taken you with me,” he said while getting dressed. “I want to go today.” His hands paused while tying his tie, but he quickly resumed as if nothing had happened. Maybe my tone was a bit harsh, and he sensed something was off. He chuckled lightly, his back to me. “You don’t like these parties, right? It’s just a bunch of guys; you wouldn’t enjoy it.” “What kind of party only has two people?” He spun around, his scrutinizing gaze shifting from my face to the phone on the table. “You checked my phone!” He unlocked it with his fingerprint, glanced at the new message, and then stuffed it back into his pocket. I hadn’t even started questioning him, but he was already on the offensive, looking fierce. “Coco, you never used to check my phone. You’ve changed!” “Evan, who really changed here? You haven’t even explained yourself. After all these years, how could you do this to us?” I was furious, my fists pounding the sofa. He irritably loosened his tie. “I told you, she’s just a colleague. If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do.” His eyes darted around as he slumped on the sofa armrest. I stood before him. “A colleague showing you lingerie, huh?” He pursed his lips, impatient, eyes red, looking up at me. “I haven’t even mentioned how you and Mike were sketchy last time. Who knows what you two were up to?” That was just a department dinner that ended late. I happened to run into Mike, so we came back together. Suddenly, I wanted to laugh. It was just like the videos I’d seen, where men raise their voices and counterattack when feeling guilty or exposed. “You two have been together all along, right? You look down on me, couldn’t handle being alone, so you went for my brother.” Desperate? It was the first time I realized he had this side. My hands shook at my sides, but I held back the tears. “Yeah, you’re right. I do like your brother. He’s better than you in every way.” He stared at me, incredulous. “Say that again!” “I like your brother. We’ve been together for a while now. Satisfied?” Evan’s fiery gaze moved from my face to the doorway, where Mike, his brother, stood. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, a dark suit, hands in his pockets, standing tall. His cold gaze through the lenses landed on me, making my cheeks burn. I sobered up a bit, unsure how much he’d heard. His leather shoes clacked on the floor, and a shadow loomed over me, making my heart race. Evan spoke first, pointing at me. “Big brother, she’s lying, right?” I frowned, about to speak, but his actions stopped me. Mike walked up to me, reaching out his hand, a ring on his left index finger. Under his calm gaze, I inexplicably placed my hand in his. **Chapter 2** Evan stormed downstairs. Rain pounded on the car roof, the engine roared, and he drove off. Rain surrounded the balcony, enclosing it in a tight space. I wrapped a shawl over my silver silk pajamas and sank into the sofa. Before this, he showed no signs of anything unusual. I always thought we were the happiest. Even if we might never have kids together. He was busy with work but called me every day. If he was coming home late, he’d let me know in advance, so I wouldn’t wait up. He’d tuck me in at night, always prepared surprises for holidays. When he had time, he’d cook for me, even if his skills weren’t great. He said he wanted to make it for me. So, when I saw the message from that woman, I couldn’t believe it. I thought it was a misunderstanding. To confirm my suspicions, I scrolled far up, hoping to find it was sent to the wrong person or that Evan had rejected her advances. Clearly, I was disappointed. They chatted every day. I couldn’t reach the top of their messages, which meant they’d been together for a long time. It was all real, not a misunderstanding. When the lies were exposed, and the truth was out, he showed his ugly side. It felt like all the past tenderness was an illusion. He was furious and made wild accusations, so different from the Evan I remembered. Memories flooded back, the sound of my phone hitting the floor snapped me back. Looking up, I saw him on the third-floor balcony—Mike, Evan’s brother. Black trousers, black shirt. Holding a glass of red wine, his expression indifferent, as if he always was like this, showing no emotion. Maybe because he was the head of the Johnson Corporation, years of business ups and downs had given him such a calm demeanor. I wanted to apologize, but he was gone from the balcony. Since Evan left, he hadn’t come home for days. Today, his assistant helped him back. “Ma’am, the young master drank too much today. I’ll leave him to you.” He was sprawled on the sofa, his face flushed and reeking of alcohol. He rarely drank this much. If he occasionally drank too much during social events, I’d help clean him up. I felt sorry for him, drinking so much to socialize. Now, seeing him like this, I stared at him for a long time, though my heart was already in turmoil. Countless raindrops fell on my heart, cold enveloping me, making it hard to breathe. After all, we were once so perfect. Together since sophomore year, it’s been six years now. I wanted to take a knife and cut open his chest, to see what’s inside. What kind of person can maintain a calm and beautiful life with me, while having another family outside? I don’t understand. I don’t understand why there are such people in the world. Lying in bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. I was a child left behind by parents who worked away from home, sometimes not returning for a year. Later, they died in a car accident, and my grandmother passed too. I had too little love. Compared to other children left behind, I was even more hesitant to believe in others’ sincerity. I was afraid of gaining something only to lose it again. But I was cautious. Why did it end like this? Back then, he was the famous rich kid on campus. I was the well-rounded school beauty. His pursuit was intense, but I was unmoved. I didn’t believe someone like him could be sincere. Besides, I was busy with studies and work, had no time for such thoughts. But after a class-organized event, I was moved. It had rained the night before, and we walked along the winding mountain road. When I got in the car, the only seat left was the front passenger seat, and Evan was driving. It was our first outing, everyone was excited, discussing what to play when we arrived, unaware of the impending danger. A landslide blocked the road. Evan was about to get out to check, classmates in the back were craning their necks to look out the window. “Be careful, Evan…” Before the words were out, a rock rolled down and hit the hood hard. By the time we reacted, it was too late. Mud and rocks flowed down. It was too late to reverse. In panic, he pulled me into his arms. He let out a few grunts and then went silent. In the hospital, I accepted his confession. He took out a simple ring and put it on my ring finger. He wore an identical one. Tears fell down my temples, soaking the pillow. A loud knocking at the door pulled me from my memories. The knocking sounded like it would break the door down. **Chapter 3** “Mom, what are you doing here?” She stormed in, glanced at the bed behind me, then at Evan sprawled on the sofa. “Mom? You still remember I’m your mom? Is this how you treat your husband?” “He hasn’t been home for days, and now he’s back, you don’t even clean him up and let him sleep on the sofa while you sleep comfortably in bed.” I didn’t want to explain. She never liked me anyway. She started lecturing me again, about how a husband is like the sky, and a mother-in-law’s words are the rules. I used to endure because of Evan, but not anymore. “Someone else can clean him outside; I don’t need to.” The door swung open and someone stormed in with an air of hostility, casting a glance at the bed behind me before looking over at Evan, who was sprawled out on the sofa. “Mother? So you do remember I’m your mother. Is this how you treat your husband?” “He’s been gone for days, and when he finally returns, you don’t even bother to clean him up. You let him lie on the sofa while you sleep comfortably in bed.” I had no desire to explain anything to her; we’ve never really gotten along. She started on the usual lecture about how a husband is everything and a mother-in-law’s word is law. I used to put up with her for Evan’s sake, but not anymore. “Someone else can deal with him outside; I don’t need to.” She was dressed in opulent attire, carrying herself with the air of a wealthy lady, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she pointed at me. “That’s because you’re useless. All this time and you haven’t even managed to bear a child. Maybe you should look into your own shortcomings.” So she knew all along about her son’s affair. “Just as I thought, you should always consider a man’s parents. With a mother like you, it’s no wonder he lacks any moral direction.” I’m usually quite mild-mannered, but this was the first time I spoke so disrespectfully to her. She pointed at me, her finger trembling. “This is unbelievable! How did my Evan end up with such an unworthy woman?” “What era are we in? Still harping on about being ‘virtuous’?” She had the nanny help Evan clean up, and amidst her curses, I turned my back on her and returned to my room. Lately, I’ve been out of sorts at work. My colleagues commented that I looked worn out. This wasn’t some trivial spat that would blow over in a few days. It was years of trust collapsing in an instant. Warm memories shattered by the bitterness of mutual hurt. A woman, dressed to the nines, blocked my path. Her face was full of arrogant disdain. I knew who she was. Lily, the woman sending Evan messages on WhatsApp. “Coco, I assume you know who I am by now? Let’s not beat around the bush.” “Evan has agreed to marry me, so you’d better get the message and step aside. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I smirked slightly. “Are you sure he’ll actually marry you?” She rolled her eyes at me. “Of course. Do you know how much he likes me? He’s been with me for so long, and he hasn’t even touched me.” I laughed out loud. She was furious. “Have you lost your mind? What’s so funny?” I moved a little closer. “I just want to tell you, if a man and a woman are in bed together, and he’s not interested, then he’s just—” Before I could finish, a slap landed on my face, ringing in my ears. It was Evan, standing there while Lily laughed mockingly beside him. My face burned, and he dragged me a few steps away. “What nonsense are you spouting?” With a slap, I returned the favor. Chapter 4 He stared at me in disbelief, his expression one of shock. To him, I had always been gentle and understanding. But hadn’t I always seen him as a considerate family man too? Now, everything was different. He pulled me into the car, and my legs, encumbered by my dress, banged against the door frame. Before I could even fasten my seatbelt, the car lurched forward. It screeched to a stop suddenly, and he dragged me up to the second floor. I was powerless against his strength. “Coco, admit it, you look down on me! So why did you marry me?” “You women are all the same, right? Just after money. If I had none, you’d have left long ago!” I couldn’t help but cry—was it the pain in my knee or the hurt in my heart? “Evan, you were the one who pursued me first. Have you lost your conscience?” He picked up a cup from the table and smashed it on the floor. The flying glass cut both of us. I touched the cut near my eye, and it stung sharply. His eyes narrowed, a flash of danger in them. “I have my issues, but didn’t you know that before we married? What now, can’t handle being alone?” “If you want a man, find one outside, not at home, Coco. You’ve got some nerve.” His words were harsh, as if he were the victim. I’m not good at arguing, and at this point, there was nothing left to say. I pulled out the divorce papers from my bag. Half a month ago, I never imagined we’d end up here, after five years of sharing a bed and whispering to each other every night. Seeing the words “divorce agreement,” he rushed over and tore it in half. A cool breeze swept in from the balcony, and at some point, it had started raining outside. The rain splattered on his black leather shoes, and the droplets pounded on the umbrella, sliding down, surrounding us in a curtain of rain. “What are you doing? Divorce would be good for both of us, right?” His eyes were bloodshot, truly looking like a victim: “Divorce? Not a chance!”

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I grew up as the daughter of the CEO of a renowned fashion group in New York, living in a luxurious Manhattan apartment and enjoying a privileged lifestyle. However, when there was a call for young people to support the development of the Midwest, I chose to volunteer in a small town with tough conditions for five years. Five years later, I returned to New York, excited to attend the launch of a new family fashion brand, only to be blindsided. At the event, my mother, who had always been so loving, announced that Amy, the adopted daughter, was the true heir to the family business. I was stunned to learn that I was merely a child they had picked up from the streets. To make matters worse, Jack, my childhood friend and now the general manager of the fashion group, publicly proposed to Amy, abandoning me without a second thought. Humiliated and laughed at by everyone, I was dragged out by security, left in despair on the cold streets, and ultimately drowned in an accident. But fate gave me another chance. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of the brand’s launch. Seeing Amy about to cut the ribbon, fury surged within me, and I rushed forward, striking her down. “How dare you, a mere beggar, try to steal my spotlight!” I shouted.

The room erupted in chaos. My mother rushed over, giving me a hard shove. Yet, I stood my ground, unfazed. “Lucy, how have you become so savage after five years? Hitting your sister like this?” Mother yelled, her eyes blazing with anger. “You really are an uncultured child. Apologize to Amy immediately, or don’t even think about coming back home!” I picked up the scissors from the ground, sneering, “Mom, what are you saying? Dad only had me when he started the business. Is this sister of mine someone else’s child?” Mother turned red with rage, about to explode, but Amy held her back. “Mom, please don’t be angry with my sister on my account. If she likes the scissors, let her have them. After all, she suffered on my behalf in the Midwest. I owe her.” Amy said, feigning innocence. “If it weren’t for my poor health, Dad wouldn’t have adopted her, as a charity for me. In the end, I should thank her.” As Amy finished speaking, guests around us gave me disdainful looks. “So, she’s just an adopted stray, acting so arrogantly, she really doesn’t know her place!” “Exactly, I would have kicked her out long ago.” Mother pointed at the scissors in my hand and instructed Dad’s secretary, “Give the scissors to Miss Amy.” The secretary rushed over, snatching the scissors from me and handing them obsequiously to Amy. “Miss Amy, please continue with the ribbon-cutting. I’ll handle this crazy woman for you.” I couldn’t believe my eyes, looking at Uncle Leo, who had watched me grow up, acting as if he didn’t know me at all. But I quickly regained my composure, sneering, “Uncle Leo, if you want to give her the scissors, fine. When Dad returns, I’ll tell him you’ve lost your mind and should retire.” Uncle Leo’s face turned pale, eyes flickering with uncertainty. “Miss, just because I call you Miss, don’t think you’re really the heiress. This house has always been run by Madam and Miss Amy. I’ve worked diligently for over twenty years and have never been humiliated like this. Madam, you must speak for me!” I glared at him, “You’ve been by my dad’s side for years and can’t even tell who his daughter is?” Uncle Leo was at a loss for words, looking to Mother for help. In my previous life, I never understood why Mother treated me this way for a stray. It wasn’t until my dying moment that I learned the truth behind it. Now, given another chance, I want to see who really gets kicked out. Mother was about to speak when Amy intervened, “Mom, today’s the brand launch and sister’s back. It’s a joyous day. Let’s not argue over this little thing. How about letting sister cut the ribbon?” Mother’s face darkened even more, “This brand was specially created for you by your dad. How can she cut the ribbon? Your dad will be here soon with the Mayor to give you an award and be photographed for the paper!” Looking at the woman who once doted on me, I felt nothing but unfamiliarity. When I was young, we went on vacation to the suburbs and met Amy begging by the roadside. Mother insisted on adopting her at first sight. Dad thought it would be good for me to have a companion, but once Amy was in the house, Mother had no room for me. She only saw Amy as her daughter.

She praised Amy for being obedient and graceful, making her proud in social circles. But I, lively and pursuing my dreams, was seen as unruly and embarrassing. In my last life, she even feared Amy’s sadness and announced Amy as the heir during the brand launch, claiming I was a stray they picked up. Amidst everyone’s ridicule, she had me beaten and thrown out. Covered in bruises, I wandered the streets in despair, watching them celebrate Amy’s ascension as the new head of the family in a luxury hotel. Meanwhile, Amy’s people pushed me into the icy river, where I drowned. Days later, when Mother finally thought to look for me, my cold body had already washed ashore. In this life, facing Mother’s continued hostility, I sneered, “Mom, this launch was Dad’s idea to celebrate my return. Are you really going to be so biased? Aren’t you afraid of making Dad angry?” Dad was supposed to personally pick me up, but the Mayor’s sudden visit to inspect the group kept him busy. Not wanting to trouble him, I returned home alone, only to be mistaken for an impostor. Amy chose this moment for the ribbon-cutting, likely Mother’s plan to announce her as the heir while Dad was absent. Amy clung to the launch ribbon, looking pitifully at me, “Sister, I know you want this new brand, but it’s a token from Mom and Dad for me. Blame me, not Mom!” Instantly, a trendy blonde woman defended her, “Lucy, who do you think you are? If the Johnson family hadn’t picked you off the street, you’d still be a filthy beggar. They gave you a meal, and you think you’re the heiress?” “What a joke, why don’t you take a good look at yourself? Do you deserve it?” I turned to see Lily, Amy’s childhood follower. After Dad adopted Amy, she lived by flattering Amy, basically a sycophant. Remembering how she and a gang of thugs bullied me last life, leading to my death, my pupils shrank. I clenched my fists and sneered, “If I’m a stray, then what are you, Lily? An orphan sycophant living off others. If I were you, I’d find a hole to crawl into, rather than pretending to be a socialite.” Lily blushed, ashamed and angry. Seeing this, Uncle Leo flattered Mother, “Mrs. Johnson, don’t let this crazy woman delay the auspicious time for the brand’s launch.” Mother coaxed Amy, “Yes, bring out the gift I prepared for Amy.” The next second, Uncle Leo presented a delicate gift box. Opening it, I saw it was the fashion group’s stock certificate! My eyes turned red. This was the largest fashion group in America, founded by my grandfather. Before he died, he gave the stock certificate to me, saying, “This fashion group is yours when you grow up. If you don’t like it, sell it and travel the world.” But now, Mother stole it to please Amy. “Iris Thompson! That’s my grandfather’s inheritance, and you’re really giving it to this stray?” I shouted in anger. Mother shoved the stock certificate into Amy’s arms, glaring at me, “Impertinent brat, this is for my precious daughter Amy. You want to claim it as yours?”

Amy’s face maintained a fake smile, but her eyes couldn’t hide her pride and provocation. “Sister, I’ve always let you have what you wanted, but this stock certificate is Grandpa’s heirloom, and Mom’s intention. I really can’t give it to you.” Amy said hypocritically, “But when you get married, I’ll give you a gift of equal value, okay?” Last life, she always did this. Whenever we argued, she’d pretend to be understanding, making Mother favor her more and despise my ‘unruliness.’ Over time, Mother became convinced I was the stray. Angry and teary-eyed, I ignored Uncle Leo’s obstruction and tried to grab the stock certificate back, only to be knocked down by a vase Mother threw, bleeding profusely. She frowned in disgust, “The Johnson family is a noble lineage, how could we have a daughter with such an ugly face?” I glared at this so-called mother, filled with despair and rage, “Iris Thompson, no matter how much you love Amy, you can’t touch Grandpa’s heirloom. Give it back!” I was on the verge of tears, trying desperately to reclaim the stock certificate despite Secretary Leo’s interference, only to be struck down by my mother with a vase, leaving me bleeding heavily. With a frown and a look of disgust, she said, “Our Johnson family is quite prestigious. How could we have a daughter as unsightly as you?” I glared at this so-called mother, despair and anger welling up inside me. “Iris Thompson, even if you favor Amy, you have no right to touch the keepsake Grandpa left for me. Give it back!” Looking down at me with a sneer, she replied, “Are you planning to ruin Amy’s opening ceremony today? Secretary Leo, call security and have her thrown out! Teach her a lesson! Unless she kneels and apologizes to Amy, she won’t be allowed back into the Johnson household!” The onlookers gossiped, “That adopted daughter of the Johnson family went to the Midwest and lost her mind, thinking she’s the real heiress.” “Yeah, kick her out quickly, don’t let her eyesore linger.” Hearing the cold words from my mother, my heart broke completely. Just like in my past life, she had no maternal affection for me. “What’s going on here? Why is there such a crowd?” Suddenly, a familiar voice came from the door. It was Jack, a tall man in a police uniform, my childhood friend and former boyfriend, but now… “Amy, why are you crying? Who dared to upset you right in front of me?” He quickly approached Amy, wiping her tears in front of everyone. “Jack, you’re just in time. It’s all because of that brat Lucy. She came back just to cause trouble for Amy, claiming this new brand is hers and that the stock certificate Grandpa left is hers too,” my mother accused, playing the victim. Jack looked at me with unfamiliar, hostile eyes. “So this is the eldest daughter who went to the Midwest, thinking she could transform from a commoner to an heiress after a few years of hardship? Such greed!” “Amy is too kind, which is why you bully her. But not me. If you upset her again, I’ll make sure you end up in a cell!” I laughed bitterly. An orphan like him, without my help pulling strings, how could he have risen to the position of New York Police Department chief? Five years ago, he abruptly broke up with me, saying not to contact him again. I wondered if he found out I helped him get promoted and got mad about it? But seeing him doting on Amy now, everything clicked. They had been conspiring all along, secretly promising each other. And today, with the launch of a new brand, it was the perfect time to cement the tale of the heiress and the police chief. Sadly, in my past life, I was oblivious, hoping he would clear up the misunderstanding. But all I got was brutal humiliation. This vengeance, I will repay! As I was lost in thought, Jack suddenly kicked me and pulled out a ring, kneeling on one knee in front of Amy. “Amy, will you marry me? Whether we’re poor, rich, healthy, or sick, I’ll love you forever!”

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At the final meeting before my company’s IPO, my wife, who was supposed to be the keynote speaker, failed to show up. I frantically called her over and over, but every call went unanswered. Because of her absence, we lost the bid, and my company became a laughingstock in the industry. Yet, at that very moment, her so-called “bromeo” posted an update: [I just caught a cold, and this little one is already so worried.] I clicked on it, only to see a photo of my wife, whom I hadn’t seen in days. She crouched down and was feeding him medicine with a look of concern. At that moment, all the love I had for her over the past five years vanished into thin air. “Mr. Harrison, the bidding meeting has already started, and yet the keynote speaker hasn’t shown up. Are you giving us the upper hand? You’re so nice!” The rival company’s CEO gave me a hard pat on the shoulder, his eyes brimming with mockery. I stood frozen, unable to say a word. Today was supposed to be the final bid meeting, and if successful, our company would go public. Dozens of employees were relying on this success for their bonuses, and this project was the culmination of two years of effort. But now, it had all fallen apart. At that moment, Daphne’s bromeo, Matt, posted an update: [I just had some coughs, and someone dropped everything to take care of me.] The accompanying photo showed Matt being fed medicine by my wife, her face full of concern. It hit me then that she had skipped the meeting to take care of Matt’s cold. Just a few coughs, and Daphne was willing to abandon the hopes of dozens of employees and the fruits of our two years of hard work to rush to him. She was always aloof toward me, yet she was so attentive and thoughtful when it came to Matt. Tears I couldn’t suppress began to fall, and I slammed the steering wheel several times in frustration. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a used condom tucked into the crevice of the car seat. Suddenly, it felt as if icy water had poured over me. I began trembling uncontrollably. The car had always been exclusively used by Daphne. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened. I shut my eyes in despair. I thought she might have been emotionally unfaithful. But now it was clear—she and Matt had already crossed the line. I thought back to a few weeks ago, when Daphne uncharacteristically cooked for me for the first time ever. She had been unusually gentle and had said it was to celebrate my birthday. I thought I had finally moved her heart and that things could improve between us. Now it was obvious that she had only done that out of guilt after her affair. I opened her social media feed and found post after post documenting every little moment she shared with Matt. Not one post was about me. Even her phone wallpaper was a random selfie Matt casually took. I had brought up my discomfort about this before, but every time, she lashed out at me instead, accusing me of being unreasonable. “We’re just friends. What’s the big deal about using his photo? “If there was anything between us, do you think you’d still be in the picture?” She would glare at me with reddened eyes, leaving me no choice but to swallow my frustration. I kept convincing myself that she had no feelings for Matt, just a lack of boundaries. But now, the last bit of hope I had was shattered. I said: [Daphne, let’s get a divorce.] After sending her the message, I immediately contacted a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement.

When I got home, I started packing my things, intending to move out immediately. As I was tidying up, I stumbled upon a prenatal check-up report tucked into the cabinet. We hadn’t had sex for three months, so there was no way her child could be mine. I thought I had become numb, but seeing that report made my chest ache all over again. It felt like someone was strangling me, leaving me lightheaded and suffocating. I quietly placed the report back where I found it, took a photo of it, and left. Daphne still didn’t respond to my divorce message, as if she had vanished from the world. It wasn’t until two days later, when I forwarded her the divorce agreement, that she finally replied with a single question mark. She texted me: [What do you mean? Just because I’ve been gone for a few days, you want a divorce?] When I didn’t reply, she seemed to grow angrier. [Are you serious? Think this through. If we divorce, you’ll never find someone as good as me.] I replied: [I’ve already sent you the divorce agreement. Do you really think I’m joking?] I let out a cold laugh and urged her. [Sign it, and we can go finalize the divorce. After that, we’ll have nothing to do with each other.] Then, I turned off my phone and headed straight to the office. Although some of my employees had grumbled about the situation, their trust in me kept them from leaving. I couldn’t let my personal problems affect them any further. Thankfully, we still had some funds to keep things running, so I gave everyone a 5000-dollar bonus. I said to them, “This failure isn’t the end. There’s another chance to go public in two months. Let’s give it our all.” The employees were excited and returned to work with renewed energy. I then called HR and instructed them to draft a termination letter for Daphne. “Are you sure about this, boss? Won’t there be… repercussions with Mrs. Harrison?” “Do it. Make sure she gets it today. Whatever happens with this company after, it has nothing to do with her.” I cut her off with a wave and went back to my office. This company had been founded by the two of us, but in reality, I was the one funding it and keeping it afloat. I had always been the one working tirelessly to understand customer needs and secure deals, and back then, I hadn’t thought much of it. But now, thinking it through, I had been shielding Daphne from the storm while she stayed cozy managing internal affairs. She had it too easy. Not long after, Daphne called me, her tone filled with fury. “How dare you fire me from the company? This is my hard work too! “I’ll pretend your talk of divorce never happened. But if you keep pushing, I won’t hold back!” I couldn’t help but laugh at her words. She still thought I was just bluffing to get her to come home. “When I say divorce, I mean it. You’ve done nothing for this company. You didn’t even show up at the most critical meeting. Be glad I’m not suing you for damages. “The divorce agreement is only valid until today. If you don’t sign and send it back by tonight, I’ll file a lawsuit tomorrow.” With that, the line went silent. Perhaps she felt humiliated after having her attempt to reconcile rejected. I didn’t bother guessing what was on her mind and hung up. After work, I returned home to find a table of steaming hot dishes laid out. In the kitchen, Daphne, whom I hadn’t seen in days, was busy cooking with an apron. I raised my eyebrows, wondering what new trick she was playing. After all, in all these years, I had been the one doing all the housework. “You’re back. Let’s eat,” she said as she approached me and took my hand. “I know I messed up. You’re right to be angry, but you don’t have to bring up divorce so lightly. I promise, I’ll never put Matt before you again. Please forgive me this one last time, okay?” Daphne’s pitiful expression and softened voice would have melted anyone’s heart. But I calmly pulled my hand away. “If apologies were enough, who’s going to make up for the company’s losses? You don’t need to try so hard to make it up. I’ve already made up my mind—there’s no going back.”

“Jerry Harrison! What do you mean by that? If you keep this up, I’m really going to get angry.” Having her first attempt at reconciliation rejected, Daphne’s face darkened. I had completely run out of patience and decided to lay everything on the table. “Do you think I don’t know what disgusting things you and Matt did in the car? I’ve been trying to leave you some dignity. Are you forcing me to spell it all out?” She was my first love, someone I had genuinely loved for five years. Even now, despite her infidelity, I wanted a peaceful breakup. But Daphne showed no remorse. Instead, she flew into a rage upon hearing my words, grabbing the freshly prepared dishes on the table and smashing them to the ground. “So, divorce, huh? Fine! Let’s get divorced! Just don’t come crying back to me later and beg for my forgiveness!” I calmly pulled her hand and said, “This house is mine. You may not care about it, but I do. Since you’ve made up your mind, sign the papers, take your things, and leave.” Daphne glared at me, panting with rage. After signing the divorce agreement, she immediately called Matt. “Come pick me up. I’m divorcing Jerry. He’s making me pack my things and leave.” Standing nearby, I couldn’t help but sneered. The way Daphne phrased it sounded as if I was the one betraying her. Thankfully, she signed the agreement in the end, and I was finally free. After five years together, this marriage had left me utterly drained. When Daphne finished packing and stood at the door, she realized that most of what she had taken was clothes—almost the entire house was filled with her belongings. Meanwhile, my belongings were sparse. One of my shirts, in fact, had been wearing for five or six years. For a moment, she lowered her head without saying a word, and a complicated look flashed across her eyes. “Daphie! I’m here! He didn’t hurt you, did he?” When Matt arrived in a rush, I was already seated on the couch eating takeout. Hearing the commotion outside, I put on my headphones. But Matt seemed intent on humiliating me. He raised his voice to ensure I could hear him. “If I’d known he was like this, I never would have stepped aside for him back then. “Come on, man. It’s just a house. You just kicked her out after the divorce? Are you even a man?” Hearing the noise, neighbors came out to watch and gossiped among themselves. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I walked out and punched Matt directly in the face. “When you were cheating with her, were you even a man? You got her pregnant and still have the audacity to judge me?” For a moment, Daphne stared at me in disbelief, her lips trembling uncontrollably. “What nonsense are you spouting? Matt, let’s go.” She hadn’t expected me to find out about her pregnancy, let alone expose it so bluntly in public. Her face turned pale, and all she could think about was fleeing the scene. I didn’t stop her but turned to the property manager to instruct them to remove Daphne’s facial recognition data. From now on, she would no longer be allowed to enter the building. “We can finalize the divorce next week at the Courthouse. After that, we’ll have nothing to do with each other.” I sent her this message before shutting off my phone and resuming my dinner. I thought that when the day came, I would feel a void in my heart. But to my surprise, I felt nothing but relief.

Over the next few days, I was busy with work. I ran around and finally secured an investor. “Mr. Harrison, let’s sign the contract,” the investor said. Just as we were about to finalize everything, his assistant rushed in with a grim expression, handing him something to look at. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrison, but we’ll have to put this collaboration on hold for now,” the investor said after a glance before turning and walking away. I stood there, stunned, not understanding what had just happened. It wasn’t until I saw the trending video online that I realized I had been set up. The footage showed me angrily confronting Daphne and Matt, but it had been edited to look like I was the villain. Matt, being a content creator, had set up a camera in his car the day he came to pick Daphne up. He edited the footage, cutting it to make me look unhinged, and uploaded it with the caption: [Picking up my best friend after she was kicked out by her scumbag ex. That scumbag deserves the worst.] Matt’s usual persona online was that of a feminist ally, and the fabricated story quickly garnered tens of thousands of likes. Fuming, I called Daphne. “Defamation is a crime. How dare you slander me like this?” But Daphne remained indifferent. “Then go ahead and sue us. Let’s see if the police take your side. The public is on our side now. What are you going to do about it?”

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At my baby’s one-month celebration, my husband—my partner of three years—did something I never imagined he was capable of. Right in front of me, he handed our baby to his ex. His first love. And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he encouraged the baby to call her “Mom.” I froze, my mind reeling from the shock. But when the realization hit me, I rushed forward to stop him, only to be shoved aside like I was nothing. “Why are you being so selfish?” he snapped, glaring at me like I was the one in the wrong. “Sarah can’t have children. She just wants to know what it’s like to be a mom for once. What’s the big deal? The baby’s too young to even understand—it’s just a couple of words!” I stared at him, speechless, as Sarah—Sarah—looked down at me, holding my baby like she had every right to. Her expression was soft, almost pitying, but her words cut deeper than any knife. “I’m so sorry, Amanda,” she said, her voice dripping with practiced regret. “Not being able to have children is the one thing I’ve always wanted to experience. It’s my only regret in life.” She smiled faintly, stroking my baby’s tiny cheek as if she belonged to her. “Joshua went through so much to make this happen for me,” she added, her eyes glancing at my husband—her Joshua, I realized bitterly. “I couldn’t bear to refuse him after everything he’s done.” She paused, letting out a theatrical sigh as if she were the victim. “Don’t worry, though,” she continued, her tone so sweet it made me sick. “When the baby’s older, I’ll give him back to you. And then I’ll leave. I promise.” Her words echoed in my ears, but instead of anger, something else took over. A strange, calm clarity. I got to my feet, brushed myself off, and looked at both of them with a steady gaze. My voice was calm—too calm—but firm. “Alright,” I said. “I’ll grant both of your wishes.” Three years of marriage. Three years of lies. It was time to walk away. …

The moment I said those words, the room went silent. At first, the people around me looked shocked. But then their expressions shifted—disdain replaced surprise. To them, I was just the pathetic woman hopelessly in love with Joshua. From high school to college, from graduation to marriage, I had chased him for years—years where I lost every ounce of self-respect. Everyone knew it. They called me desperate behind my back, a woman who had long since thrown away her dignity for a man who never cared. Even Joshua was stunned. He stared at me, clearly not expecting what I’d just said. The words of blame he had been about to hurl at me froze on his tongue. “What?” He blinked as if he hadn’t heard me correctly. He never thought I’d agree so easily. No, not me—the woman who always fought him tooth and nail every time Sarah’s name came up. We had argued countless times before, like when he abandoned me in the pouring rain to rush off and comfort Sarah. Or when I was pregnant, and he barely came home, while Sarah’s social media was filled with pictures of the two of them together—day after day. But now? I didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. When he handed Coco to Sarah. When he encouraged Coco to call her “Mom.” That was the moment I finally woke up. The marriage I had fought so hard for—the marriage I thought I wanted so desperately—was over. I looked at Joshua, my voice calm and steady, with none of the tears or pleading he must have expected. “Well, Joshua,” I said. “I wish you and your perfect little family all the happiness in the world.” “But Coco? I’m taking her with me.” Coco, sensing the tension in the air, waved her tiny hands and whimpered. But when she couldn’t find my familiar scent, her cries grew louder and more desperate. Her cries tore through me, sharp and painful. She had been the sweetest baby in the world since the day she was born—rarely crying, always calm, never making a fuss. Even during late-night feedings, she wasn’t difficult. I had always thought she was a gift from above. But now, I realized that from the moment she was conceived, Coco had been nothing more than a piece in Joshua’s game. He never cared about her. Not really. To him, Coco wasn’t his daughter—she was just a tool. A pawn to make Sarah happy. I clenched my fists, swallowing the lump in my throat as I stared at him. “Coco’s hungry,” I said, my voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “She’s coming with me.” Coco squirmed in Sarah’s arms, her tiny body wriggling and pushing away from the unfamiliar woman holding her. It was obvious she wanted nothing to do with Sarah. Sarah’s face twisted with irritation as she tried to comfort her, but Coco only cried harder. After a few failed attempts, Sarah’s eyes began to water in frustration. “Well,” she said with a bitter laugh, “it looks like Coco doesn’t like me very much.” Then, as if she were discarding a broken toy, she handed Coco to one of the bodyguards standing nearby. The sight of it made my blood boil, and I rushed forward, pulling Coco into my arms. Her cries softened instantly, her tiny fingers clutching my shirt as I whispered to her, gently soothing her sobs. Behind me, Joshua reached out to pat Sarah’s hand, his voice soft and comforting. “It’s okay,” he said. “She’s still young. She doesn’t recognize people yet.” And then, with a smile that made my stomach turn, he added, “Give it some time. I’ll make sure she spends more time with you. She’ll learn to listen to you.” His voice dropped into something almost tender. “Soon enough, she’ll be your daughter too.” The words hit me like a slap to the face. I held Coco tighter, ignoring Sarah’s smug expression as I turned to face Joshua. “Joshua,” I said coldly, every word precise and deliberate. “We’re getting a divorce.” “And Coco? She’s coming with me.” For a moment, Sarah’s expression faltered, her smug smile replaced by genuine surprise. Joshua looked at me like I had just spoken in a language he didn’t understand. Then his face darkened, his brows furrowing as he spoke, his voice laced with irritation. “Amanda,” he snapped, “don’t use divorce as some childish tantrum. Grow up.” I didn’t respond. I didn’t argue. I simply turned on my heel, holding Coco close as I walked toward the door. Behind me, Joshua’s voice rang out, sharp and angry. “Amanda! Don’t take this too far!” And then Sarah’s sickly sweet voice chimed in, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, Joshua. Coco’s probably just hungry, and Amanda’s upset. She didn’t mean those things—she’s just stressed.” I didn’t look back. The moment I stepped outside the hotel, the tears I had been holding back finally spilled over. Guilt clawed at my chest, nearly overwhelming me. I had failed Coco. My blind, pathetic devotion to Joshua had allowed him to hurt me again and again without consequence. He was so certain I’d never leave him, so confident I’d always stay, that he didn’t even try to hide his betrayal anymore. And now, because of me, my daughter had almost been taken from me. Coco’s tiny face was bright red from crying, her sobs shaking her little body. My tears fell harder as I gently squeezed her hand, trying to calm her. “It’s okay, Coco,” I whispered. My voice shook, but I forced myself to sound steady. “Mommy’s here. Mommy won’t let anything happen to you.” As long as I’m here, you’ll be safe. You don’t need a father like Joshua. Not anymore.

It was nearly dawn when Joshua finally came home. The bedroom door creaked open, and the sharp scent of alcohol hit me like a punch in the face. I turned my head instinctively, a wave of nausea rising in my stomach. Joshua’s cheeks were flushed the telltale red of someone who’d had too much to drink. He saw me sitting on the edge of the bed, tossed his jacket carelessly onto the chair, and collapsed next to me without a word. I stood, ready to leave, but before I could take a step, his hand grabbed my wrist. He looked up at me, his eyes hazy and unfocused, but there was something in his gaze—an attempt at charm, maybe even guilt. “Are you mad?” he slurred, the words slow and deliberate like a child trying to soothe a parent. “Come on, it’s not what you think. There’s nothing going on between me and Sarah. You know about her accident—she can’t have kids. Coco’s just… the one thing she’ll never have.” His tone softened like he truly believed he was being reasonable. “I was just trying to make her happy. That’s all. Besides, wouldn’t it be nice to have someone else around to help with Coco?” As he spoke, he leaned closer, his breath warm and reeking of alcohol. “I know what I said earlier was harsh, but you’re overreacting. I’m just helping her. You’re making this into a bigger deal than it is.” His grip tightened slightly, and his voice hardened. “And Amanda, stop throwing around the word ‘divorce’ every time you’re upset. What would people think if they heard about this? You’re embarrassing yourself.” I stared at him, his words dripping with condescension, and something inside me snapped. How dare he blame me? How dare he talk about embarrassment when he let Coco call another woman “Mom”? When he publicly said that Coco would be Sarah’s child, did he think of me then? Did he care how humiliated I felt? I yanked my wrist free from his grasp, the disgust on my face unmistakable. “I’ll be sleeping in the guest room tonight,” I said coldly. I headed for the door, but before I could open it, his hand shot out again, gripping my arm even harder this time. His tone shifted, sharp and impatient now. “I’ve already explained everything to you. What more do you want?” “Amanda, don’t be so selfish,” he said, his voice rising with frustration. “Sarah can’t have kids! All I asked was for Coco to call her ‘Mom.’ What’s the big deal?” I turned to face him, finally meeting his gaze. This was the man I had spent years loving, the man I thought I’d spend my life with. But now, as I looked at him, all I could feel was disgust. “You know exactly how you feel about Sarah,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “I’m not stupid, Joshua.” “But let me make one thing clear: I will never let you drag Coco into this.” “And as I’ve already said, we’re done. I want a divorce.” I didn’t wait for his response. I opened the door and walked out, ignoring the sound of something crashing behind me as his anger boiled over. The guest room was next to Coco’s nursery. Before going to bed, I quietly pushed open her door. She was fast asleep, her tiny chest rising and falling with every breath. The sight of her calmed me, if only for a moment. I leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. “Goodnight, my love,” I whispered. Then I closed the door and went to the guest room. The next morning, Joshua was gone. I didn’t need to ask where he was. Since I’d gotten pregnant, he’d been homeless and less. And where did he spend his time? I already knew. I got up and went straight to Coco’s nursery. But when I opened the door, the crib was empty. My heart stopped. Panic surged through me as I searched the room, checking every corner, every inch of the space, as if she could somehow be hiding. But she was gone. The fear was suffocating, my hands trembling as I reached for my phone. I was ready to call the police when a notification popped up on the screen. #J Group CEO Attends Charity Gala with Wife and Daughter!# My stomach twisted as I opened the link. The video began to play, and there they were—Joshua and Sarah, standing arm in arm, smiling for the cameras. And in Sarah’s arms… Coco. My Coco. Her little nose was red, her eyes puffy, as if she’d been crying. The sight of her like that shattered something inside me. I knew Joshua wouldn’t answer my calls. He never did when it mattered. So I didn’t bother trying. Instead, I grabbed my coat and my car keys. I didn’t care about the speed limit. I didn’t care about anything except getting to that gala. Coco was mine. And no one—not Joshua, not Sarah—was going to take her away from me. … The ceremony had just ended. Sarah clung to Joshua’s arm, walking gracefully toward the sleek black luxury car parked outside. Coco was cradled in her arms, fast asleep, oblivious to the world around her. I pulled up, stepped out of my car, and stormed toward them without hesitation. Sarah noticed me first. Her expression flickered for just a moment before she plastered on a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Amanda! What a surprise,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “What brings you here?” I ignored her completely and turned to Joshua instead. “She’s barely a year old, Joshua!” I snapped, my voice sharp and cutting. “How could you bring her to a place like this? What if something happened to her?” Joshua shrugged, unfazed by my anger. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he said dismissively. “Sarah wanted to see Coco, and we had the ceremony to attend. It made sense to bring her along.” He gestured toward the baby in Sarah’s arms as if to prove a point. “Look—she’s fine, isn’t she?” Sarah chimed in with a soft laugh. “Exactly, Amanda. You’re overthinking this. She’s perfectly okay. You really need to stop worrying so much.” I didn’t bother responding to her. My focus was on Coco. I stepped forward and took her from Sarah’s arms. My movements were abrupt, almost frantic, but even then, Coco didn’t stir. That was when the first wave of panic hit me. I touched her face, and my heart sank. Her skin was burning hot to the touch. “Coco?” I whispered, shaking her gently. “Coco, wake up!” She didn’t move. My legs felt like they were about to give out as I turned to Joshua, my voice trembling with anger and fear. “Joshua!” I shouted, my voice echoing louder than I intended. “She’s your daughter! How could you not notice she has a fever? She’s burning up!” Joshua blinked at me, clearly caught off guard. For a moment, he just stood there, his expression blank. “I—I didn’t realize…” he stammered. “She seemed fine earlier…” I couldn’t take it anymore. Hugging Coco tightly to my chest, I turned and ran back to my car. There was no time to argue, no time to waste. I needed to get her to the hospital. I drove as fast as I dared, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I kept glancing at Coco in the rearview mirror, her tiny body still and lifeless. When we arrived, the doctors rushed her in immediately. I could barely breathe as I waited outside, pacing back and forth, my heart pounding in my chest. Finally, a doctor came out to speak with me. “You brought her in just in time,” he said, his tone serious but calm. “If you’d waited any longer, it could have been much worse.” The relief was overwhelming, but it was quickly swallowed by guilt. I stepped into the room where Coco was now resting. She looked so small, hooked up to the IV. Her fever had started to go down, and her breathing was steady again, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had failed her. Tears blurred my vision as I sat by her bedside. I wiped them away quickly, pulling out my phone and dialing my parents. The call connected almost immediately. “Mom,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m divorcing Joshua.” There was a pause on the other end, and then my mother’s voice came through, filled with concern. “What happened? Is Coco okay?” I took a deep breath, trying to steady my voice as I explained everything—how Joshua had taken Coco to the ceremony, how he hadn’t even noticed she was sick, how close we had come to losing her. In the background, I could hear my father’s angry voice. “That man has no heart!” he fumed. “Coco is his own daughter! How could he be so careless?” My mother’s voice was calmer but no less determined. “Amanda, listen to me,” she said firmly. “Just come home. Bring Coco with you. We’ll handle the rest.” My mom wasn’t just offering comfort—she was a force to be reckoned with. Her connections in the business world ran deep, and she knew some of the best lawyers in the city. I knew she would make sure I had everything I needed to end this marriage. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. After hanging up, I reached out and gently touched Coco’s forehead. Her fever had finally broken. I let out a long breath, the tension in my chest easing just a little. I stayed by her side the entire night, refusing to leave her for even a moment.

After a full day and night on an IV drip, Coco finally woke up. My mom came to the hospital to help me take care of her, giving me a chance to go home and pack. I didn’t take much—just the necessities. I didn’t need anything else from that house. But as I stepped out the door with my suitcase in hand, a car pulled up, screeching to a stop in front of me. Joshua. He got out quickly, and of course, Sarah was right behind him. Her eyes immediately landed on the suitcase I was holding. She blinked in surprise, and then tilted her head with a smile that was anything but innocent. “Amanda,” she said, her tone light and curious, “are you going somewhere?” Joshua’s gaze followed hers, and the moment he saw the suitcase, his face darkened. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Amanda,” he said sharply, “what’s the meaning of this?” I looked at him, calm but cold. “What do you think it means?” I said evenly. “We’re getting divorced. There’s no reason for me to stay here anymore.” Joshua’s expression shifted, his anger visibly rising. He stepped forward and grabbed my arm, his grip hard enough to make me stop in my tracks. “Who said you could leave?” he growled. Before I could respond, Sarah stepped in, her voice soft and sweet, playing her part perfectly. “Joshua, don’t be so harsh,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “Amanda’s just upset. If you talk to her calmly, I’m sure she’ll come around. She’s probably just overreacting because of what happened with Coco…” She paused, casting me a quick, apologetic glance. “I mean, yesterday was partly my fault, after all…” Her words hit me like gasoline on a fire. Joshua’s grip loosened as he turned to her, clearly annoyed. But then he turned back to me, his voice dripping with frustration. “Overreacting,” he repeated, almost scoffing. “It was just a fever, Amanda. Kids get sick all the time. Why do you have to blow everything out of proportion?” He crossed his arms, his tone sharper now. “Do you even hear yourself? You’re always so tense, always making everything into a crisis. What’s the point? Do you even realize how exhausting you’ve become?” His words cut deep, but this time, I didn’t hold back. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. The sound echoed in the driveway, sharp and unforgiving. Joshua froze, his eyes wide with disbelief, one hand slowly reaching up to touch his cheek. Sarah gasped and rushed to his side. “Joshua! Are you okay?” she cried, her voice filled with concern as she leaned in to inspect him. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Do you think I’m the problem here?” I said, my voice trembling with anger. I pulled out my phone, opened Sarah’s social media, and shoved it in Joshua’s face. “Look at this,” I said, my tone icy. “Do you even remember what you’ve done?” “Were you there for Coco when she was born?” “When she was sick, where were you? Who were you with?” I took a step closer, my voice growing louder with each question. “Do I need to remind you of every single time you failed her? Failed us?” Joshua didn’t say a word, but Sarah’s eyes welled up with tears. She sniffled, looking at me like she was the victim. “Amanda,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I know you’re upset… I—I’m leaving for the U.S. soon. I won’t bother you anymore, I swear. Please, just… don’t take this out on Joshua. He really cares about you.” Her performance was flawless, but it only made me feel sick. I smiled coldly, not bothering to hide my disgust. Then, without hesitation, I slapped her, too. This time, the sound was even louder. Sarah stumbled back, clutching her cheek in shock as tears spilled down her face. Joshua immediately snapped out of his daze and rushed to her, shielding her like she was some fragile treasure. “What the hell is wrong with you, Amanda?” he shouted, his voice filled with anger. I smirked, unfazed by his reaction. “Get out of my sight,” I said coldly, my tone laced with disdain. “Both of you. You’re disgusting.” I turned on my heel, dragging my suitcase toward my car. Just before getting in, I looked over my shoulder one last time. “The divorce papers will be sent to you tomorrow,” I said. “Make sure you sign them.” Joshua’s voice roared behind me as I started the engine. “Amanda! Don’t you dare walk away from me! You’ll regret this!” But I didn’t bother looking back. Later that night, I arrived at my parents’ house. My mom had already brought Coco home from the hospital. She was asleep in the guest room, her tiny face peaceful and calm. For the first time in days, I felt like I could finally breathe. My mom came over and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said firmly. “The lawyer I hired is one of the best. We’ll make sure you get full custody of Coco. No one is taking her away from you.” Her words were like a lifeline, grounding me in the middle of the chaos. “It hasn’t been easy for you,” she added softly. “But you’ve done everything you could. You’ve been so strong, Amanda.” I nodded, but the weight of everything finally broke me. For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself cry. I buried my face in my mom’s shoulder, and all the anger, pain, and exhaustion poured out of me in waves. … Three days had passed since I sent the divorce papers to Joshua. He still hadn’t signed them. When it became clear he was just stalling, I told my lawyer to proceed with filing for divorce in court. That finally got a reaction. Joshua called me later that day, his voice dripping with irritation. “Amanda, what are you trying to do?” he snapped. “First the divorce papers, now you’re dragging a lawyer into this? You really want to take this to court?” He paused, and then softened his tone slightly, though it was more condescending than apologetic. “Look, I know… last time was my fault. I should’ve noticed something was wrong with Coco. I admit that. Okay? But do we really have to keep dragging this out? I’m apologizing here. Can’t you just… let it go?” I didn’t say anything, so he kept going. “And Sarah… she’s been a close friend of mine for years. She just got back to the country, and then—” he hesitated for a moment, and then sighed heavily. “And then she found out she can’t have kids. Do you know how hard that is for her? She’s going through a lot right now. She doesn’t deserve this from you.” His tone shifted again, more impatient now. “Look, there’s an event tomorrow night. Come with me.” It wasn’t a request. It sounded more like a reluctant compromise as if he were doing me a favor. In the past, I might’ve been eager for an invitation like this. Joshua rarely took me to events like these. He always said I “wasn’t cut out for that kind of thing,” that my place was at home, managing the household. But now? I couldn’t care less. I kept my voice calm, almost disinterested. “Will Sarah be there?” “Her studio is hosting the event,” he replied as if that explained everything. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll go.” The next evening, I drove myself to the venue. When I arrived, Joshua was waiting for me outside. Without a word, he led me into the banquet hall, where the crowd immediately began to take notice of us. Joshua was quickly drawn into conversations about business, but I could feel the curious stares following me everywhere. The whispers were impossible to ignore. It wasn’t hard to understand why. To them, Sarah was the woman who belonged at Joshua’s side. She was the one splashed all over the tabloids, the one everyone assumed was the woman in his life. And me? I was a stranger in their world, someone they’d never seen before. Joshua had never brought me to events like this. In fact, most people in his circle didn’t even know he was married. Even Coco’s full-month celebration had been a small, private affair with just close family and friends. So tonight, standing beside him, I was a shock to everyone in the room. Finally, someone couldn’t resist asking. One of the guests turned to Joshua, offering a polite smile. “And this lovely lady is…?” Joshua started to respond, but I cut him off before he could say a word. “His wife,” I said with a calm, confident smile. The man’s expression froze for a moment, and then shifted as he glanced at Joshua with a mixture of surprise and something else—disgust, maybe, or pity. Joshua’s face tightened, his jaw clenching as he leaned closer to me. “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed under his breath. I smiled at him, unfazed. “What’s wrong?” I said lightly. “I’m just telling the truth.” Soon, the event officially began. The lights dimmed, and all eyes turned to the stage as Sarah stepped out. She was dressed in a stunning custom gown, the kind that screamed exclusivity and wealth. Under the spotlight, she looked poised, elegant, and completely in control. She was the picture of grace as she walked to the center of the stage, ready to deliver her speech. But before she could say a word, I raised my voice, cutting through the silence like a knife. “Sarah,” I called out loud enough for everyone to hear. The room went still, all eyes turning toward me. “Before you start,” I said, my voice steady and clear, “don’t you think there’s something you need to explain to me first?”

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At an auction I hosted, my wife won a limited-edition luxury car for fifty million dollars. She handed over the car keys to her male partner on the spot, drawing cheers from the crowd. Everyone exclaimed that love was blatant favoritism. Everyone’s attention was focused on the well-matched “couple”. No one noticed the real husband of the heroine gritting his teeth and swallowing all his emotions on the auction block. I thought this marriage had come to an end. The moment the hammer dropped, my wife, Rachel Johnson, walked up to me and took the keys, giving me a scornful look before turning toward Oliver Kensington. To the amazement of the crowd, she handed Oliver the keys to her fifty-million-dollar limousine. At that instant, cheers and applause resounded throughout the hall. The flash focused on the two while my stomach suddenly twisted, and I almost vomited blood. I clenched my teeth and tried desperately to swallow all my emotions. My coworker, who was beside me, was the first to notice and took me to the hospital. I had a stomach relapse because I was so emotional. But my wife, Rachel, never showed up. She was embracing Oliver for an interview with a reporter. That reporter asked, “Ms. Johnson, may I ask if this man is your husband?” The business world knew that Rachel had a husband she had been married to for five years but never showed and that she had a beloved childhood friend. So the reporter was eager to confirm the identity of the man next to Rachel. “He’s the love of my life,” smiled Rachel softly while Oliver, at her side, puffed out his chest. Her vague answer made the reporter keenly aware of something, so that reporter just nodded. I watched the video as I lay in the hospital bed, a sharp pain in my heart. I had been married to Rachel for five years, and our marriage was a casualty of two large business families. But I was in love with Rachel. However, Rachel had never acknowledged me in public. She said, “I don’t want to upset Oliver, and I hope you understand.” So, all this time, I had been performing the role of a reasonable husband, quietly doing the job I loved. The young nurse came in muttering, her tone disgruntled, “Where’s your wife? Why hasn’t she shown up by now? If she doesn’t show up later, this checklist…” “I’ll just sign it myself,” I interrupted the young nurse. She choked on her words and looked a little distressed for me. She wanted to say something else but eventually just sighed. I walked out of the hospital alone after signing and paying the bill. The blinding sunlight made me squint. In a blur, I saw Rachel. She was holding Oliver on her arm as she got into the limousine she had just won. Oliver’s car shone even brighter in the sunlight. Inside the large villa, I was the only one most of the time. But Rachel was surprisingly back today, carefully holding Oliver up. “Benjamin, sorry to bother you. I broke my foot. Rachel said she didn’t feel comfortable leaving me alone,” said Oliver, holding his ankle out. There was a faint redness on it that I couldn’t even tell if I didn’t look at it deliberately. “Okay.” I nodded and got up, ready to go upstairs, only to be stopped by Rachel. She said, “You’re sleeping in the guest bedroom today. Oliver has a broken foot, and the bed in the main bedroom is better for him.” I was stunned. The bed in the main bedroom had been given to me by my mother, Aurora Wellington. Back then, Rachel had offended the gangsters for Oliver. A car with no license plate sped toward her. I subconsciously rushed forward to push her out of the way. Pain spread throughout my body. But I saw her get up in a hurry and ask Oliver, who was standing by, if he was hurt, without noticing me, who had already been covered in bruises. When I woke up again, I learned that I had a shattered calf. After that, the only way I wouldn’t feel pain was to sleep in a customized bed. I said, “But I…” “Will you stop fighting with the patient?” Rachel interrupted me impatiently. She helped Oliver into the elevator, leaving me standing alone in the living room. I had no choice but to sleep in the guest bedroom. The bed in the guest bedroom was uncomfortable. The discomfort in my calf, combined with the fact that I’d only just had stomach surgery, kept me in tears all night. I thought it was time for me to give up on Rachel.

Early in the morning, I could hear cheerful laughter downstairs. Oliver was playing with Rachel with a cookie. He held the cookie close to Rachel’s mouth and took it away before Rachel could open her mouth. The two finally notice me behind them as they play and laugh. Rachel cleared her throat and said, “You’re awake. Let’s have breakfast.” I sat across from them in silence. Oliver pouted, seemingly annoyed that I had disturbed them. “Stop by from work tonight and bring Oliver back a cake,” said Rachel to me as if giving an order. My hand paused, and I said, “I’m not available.” The crisp sound of clinking cutlery echoed through the dining room. I didn’t look at Rachel’s face as I hurriedly finished my glass of milk and carried my bag out the door. There were a lot of collections up for auction today. I was sitting backstage, memorizing, when I heard a commotion outside. A man said, “Ms. Johnson really loves her childhood friend.” Another man said, “Isn’t she married? She’s cheating like that, isn’t she?” A woman said, “She and her husband are in a business union, not in a relationship. She’s in true love with her childhood friend. If it wasn’t for the fact that her childhood friend is not as well off as that man…” The other woman said, “Yes. That man broke them up, so he must be afraid to come out and say anything.” Listening to the discussion outside, I lowered my head. I was the man who broke up Rachel and Oliver’s love. I couldn’t help but laugh to myself at the thought before dialing my home number. “Dad, Mom…” For some reason, my voice choked the moment I opened my mouth. There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment. “Come back.” “Okay.” Hanging up the phone, I gathered myself together and stepped up to the auction block, seeing Rachel sitting in the audience. She was sitting with Oliver. Oliver had his arm around her, and the two looked very affectionate. People at Rachel’s level basically consigned auctions by phone. Just because Oliver liked to make a splash, she accompanied him in and out of the major auction venues to buy things for him. “It’s ready to go,” my coworker whispered to remind me. I took a deep breath, put on a professional smile, and began to introduce the first collection of the day. It was an exquisite handmade mechanical wristwatch with a starting bid of one and a half million dollars. I faintly heard Oliver’s voice. “Rachel, I like it.” The next second, Rachel raised her hand. “Five million dollars.” The audience erupted in shock. I was stunned and then started counting down. There were no more bids, so the watch was auctioned off to Rachel. She wore the watch on Oliver’s hand as she had done the last time and held his hand up high like a general who had won a battle. Watching this scene, I was calm. Rachel should be receiving the divorce agreement soon. She slowly lowered Oliver’s hand in front of the crowd. Once seated, she took out her cell phone, her smile slowly fading. I professionally began to introduce the next collection when I was suddenly interrupted by Rachel, “Benjamin, do you really want a divorce?” The audience was instantly silent. Gradually, they began to whisper while the smile on Oliver’s face disappeared. After all, it was the first time Rachel had recognized me in public. I smiled and said gently, “Ms. Johnson, please don’t interrupt my work.” After that, I continued to introduce the collection. The crowd in the venue no longer wanted to listen to my introduction and looked at Rachel and me. As I introduced one item, Rachel would auction off one at five times the price. The audience let out a gasp of surprise. But Oliver’s expression was terrible. The last collection item was a pure gold brooch, with a starting bid of one million dollars. Rachel bid ten million dollars and won. She slowly walked up and picked up the brooch, pinning it to my collar. Rachel said, “Benjamin, stop pretending. Didn’t you just want me to publicize you? Now, you’ve succeeded.” With that, she patted me on the shoulder before turning to leave. Oliver gave me a grim look, then left after Rachel.

Reporters in the audience rushed forward, their microphones almost in my mouth. A female reporter asked, “Mr. Wellington, are you Ms. Johnson’s husband?” A male reporter asked, “Mr. Wellington, may I ask if you intentionally staged today’s scene?” Another female reporter asked, “Did you purposely break up Mr. Kensington and Ms. Johnson?” Question after question swamped me. Finally, with the help of my colleague, I returned backstage. Looking at the brooch on my collar, I felt an inexplicable surge of pain in my heart. Rachel still didn’t understand me after all these years. By the time I got home, it was already ten in the evening. Rachel was sitting on the couch with a cold face while Oliver was smoking a cigarette. Seeing me, Oliver said, his voice extremely hoarse, “Benjamin, you didn’t have to embarrass me in front of so many people.” Oliver sounded aggrieved, but I burst out laughing. Who was embarrassing who? Ignoring him, I headed straight upstairs to pack my suitcase. But Rachel’s voice sounded behind me. “Benjamin, our marriage is not child’s play. I hope you think it over.” Her voice was cold. I sped up my packing. Until I closed the suitcase, I turned to look into Rachel’s eyes and said, “Rachel, I’ve thought this through. Please sign the divorce agreement as soon as possible.” With that, I lifted my suitcase, passing Rachel to go downstairs. In a rare move, she chased after me. But she said, “Benjamin, Oliver is not easy on his own. What’s wrong with me giving him more? You’ve got everything. Do you have to take it from him? Benjamin, are you that petty?” All the way to the living room, I stopped. Oliver was still sitting on the couch, smoking one cigarette after another. He said, “Rachel, I’d better leave. Don’t argue with Benjamin.” With that, he got up and limped toward the front door. Rachel rushed to help him, and the two began to pull at each other. I just felt upset. It wasn’t the first time this kind of drama had played out in front of me. Once upon a time, I would have gone crazy asking Oliver to leave, accusing him of everything in front of Rachel. But at the moment, I just wanted to leave. I coldly put my suitcase in the trunk and quickly got in the car. Then, I started the car and drove away. I saw Rachel’s surprised look in the rearview mirror. Until she became a distant black dot, I let out a long breath as if I had let go of a heavy burden. When I got home, Aurora and my father, Kenneth Wellington, were standing in the doorway. Kenneth patted me lovingly on the shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll take care of the rest.” I nodded, tears pouring down my face. Aurora hurriedly put a coat on me and went inside with me, holding my hand tightly. I had only just sat down when Rachel messaged me: [Where are you? What gives you the right to just leave? Benjamin, reply to my message.] I didn’t reply after reading it and put my phone down, taking the hot cocoa that Aurora handed me. I took a sip, feeling warm and sweet. In five years, I had never felt so relieved. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Rachel entered with an angry look, which only subsided a little when she saw Kenneth and Aurora. “Kenneth, Aurora, I’ve come to take Benjamin home.” With that, she sat down on the couch. Aurora sneered, “Rachel, the Wellington family isn’t necessarily joining forces with the Johnson family. “We know how much my son has suffered in the five years since he married you. “He’s too good-tempered to argue with you. But I’m his mother, and I can’t let you get away with this.” Hearing Aurora’s words, Rachel was stunned on the couch. She hadn’t expected Aurora to say that. Whenever I ran away from home before, Aurora would send us away with kind words whenever Rachel came to pick me up. This time, Aurora’s words went beyond what she expected. Rachel looked over at me, her mouth opening and closing, failing to utter a word. At that moment, the door was pushed open, and Oliver came running in with red eyes. He said, “Mr. Wellington, Mrs. Wellington, it’s all my fault. It’s my fault for making Benjamin angry. Benjamin, please forgive Rachel.” With that, he nearly fell to the ground, and Rachel rushed to help him up. Watching the scene, I said, “Rachel, send Oliver away, and I’ll go back with you.”

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