My grandmother’s death was a storm, ignited by Ella’s venom. The day of her memorial, a day that should have been for mourning, was instead marked by chaos—the same day as Alpha Ethan’s wedding.
He, consumed by pride and blinded by Ella’s manipulation, accused me of faking my grief, of trying to ruin their ceremony.
In a surge of fury, I took my grandmother’s casket and left.
Days later, the truth clawed its way to the surface, and Ethan, finally awake from his delusions, was swallowed whole by regret.
And as for Ryan, the mate who had been bound to me only because of Ella—he too was forced to face the punishment that was long overdue.
I was jolted awake by the sharp ring of my phone.
The hospital’s number flashed on the screen.
“Alice,” the voice on the other end was tight, trembling. “It’s your grandmother… her condition has worsened. You need to come immediately.”
My grandmother… no. She was the only family I had left,.
I dashed out the door.
Where is Ryan?
As I barreled into the hospital, my chest heaving with urgency, I noticed it immediately. The emptiness in the air where his presence should have been.
I pulled my phone from my pocket, panic clawing at my insides. With trembling fingers, I unlocked it, praying for something—anything—from him. My eyes locked onto the message that blinked back at me, its words slicing through me like a blade.
“I’m sorry, Alice. I couldn’t be there. We’ll need to postpone the wedding. Something came up with the pack.”
For years, I had trusted his every word. His role as Beta to the Crescent Moon Pack demanded sacrifices, and I had accepted them with unwavering loyalty. I knew what it meant to be with someone bound by duty—a wolf’s promise to his Alpha was sacred.
Alpha Ethan had stolen my heart before I even understood love. We were bound by a legacy, a promise that I foolishly believed could never be broken.
But it wasn’t fate that tore us apart—it was her. Ella, the manipulative vixen who had wormed her way into Ethan’s life, stolen his heart, his loyalty, and now, my new mate, Ryan.
The woman whose engagement now claimed the venue meant for my wedding. The hall that should have been draped in moonlit silks and scented with lavender, my favorite, was instead bathed in golden lights and laughter for her.
The guests who had once RSVPed to witness my vows had seamlessly redirected their allegiances, joining the celebration in her honor.
And Ryan was now nothing more than Ella’s lapdog.
The way his gaze lingered when Ella entered the room. The way his wolf’s energy shifted, restless and alert, when she was near. I had been blind, clinging to his promises while he drifted further into her orbit.
The call from the doctor broke me. Nana was gone. I ran to her side, but it was too late. The warmth in her hands had faded, her last words a plea I couldn’t fulfill.
“Don’t cry, child,” she had said only days ago, her voice weak but steady. “Just let me see you in your wedding dress.”
I had failed her.
When I returned home, the house felt emptier than ever—until I noticed Ryan’s scent. It clung to the air, heavy with pine and musk. He was waiting for me, his golden eyes glowing faintly in the dim living room light.
He stood with a bottle in his hands, his expression caught between guilt and something unreadable.
“Alice,” he murmured, stepping closer. “I brought you something.”
The scent of the forest clung to him, familiar but distant, like the echo of a memory.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice colder than I intended.
His lips quirked into a tentative smile as he held the bottle out to me. It was glass, filled with a dark amber liquid that shimmered faintly under the light.
“Wolf’s Mead,” he said softly. “For the ceremony. It’s tradition, isn’t it? I thought we could drink it together when we—”
I interrupted, my voice trembling. “When we stand under an altar that was supposed to be mine but was draped in lights for Ella instead?”
Ryan froze, his wolf’s energy flickering as the words sank in.
I stepped back. “This? This is her favorite, isn’t it? She’s the one who told you about this tradition. You never cared about it before.”
His silence was louder than any excuse.
“You’ve been chasing her all along, haven’t you?” My voice grew stronger, fueled by anger and the sting of betrayal. “Every time you came home smelling like her, every time you smiled at her name… Did you even fight for me? Or was I just the consolation prize?”
His wolf stirred, a low growl vibrating in his chest, but I didn’t flinch.
“ Ryan. We’re over.”
I turned toward the door, grabbing my suitcase, but his hand shot out, gripping my arm. His touch was warm, electric, the pull of the mate bond still strong despite the betrayal.
“Don’t do this,” he growled, his voice thick with desperation. “You’re mine, Alice. You’re my mate.”
I met his gaze, the glow of his wolf’s eyes clashing with my resolve.
“I was yours,” I said softly. “But you gave me away.”
He sensed my mood before I could mask it, his tone softening like the wind before a storm.
“Alice, are you still upset about the wedding delay? Don’t worry. I’ve already dealt with it. This time, nothing will interfere.”
He stepped closer, the faint scent of pine and frost curling around me—a scent that had once brought comfort but now felt suffocating.
“I’ll explain to your grandmother personally,” he added, guilt flashing briefly in his silvered eyes before being replaced by a practiced calm.
I let out a bitter laugh, as cold and sharp as the winter winds in the mountains. “Don’t bother. The wedding’s off. You don’t need to meet my grandmother—she wouldn’t want your explanations anyway.”
His composure cracked for the briefest moment, irritation flickering in his eyes like a predator cornered. “Alice, you’re overreacting. The wedding has been three months in the making. Invitations have been sent to every pack. Do you realize the dishonor you’re bringing to me?”
“Dishonor?” I echoed, my voice laced with ice. “Was it honor that kept you running off on ‘urgent pack matters’? Or was it her?”
His lips parted, but before he could spew another lie, his phone buzzed. He glanced down, and as if pulled by instinct, his lips curved into a smile that sliced through me like a silver blade.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured before disappearing into the night, his figure melting into the shadows like smoke. The scent of Ella lingered faintly in the air. Only she could summon him with a single message.
Once, I might have believed his excuses. Now, the truth gleamed brighter than the full moon rising above us. He didn’t even bother hiding it anymore.
After he left, I gathered every gift he’d given me over the past hundred days. Trinkets meant to placate me. Tokens for a love that had long since decayed. I intended to return them all.
The next morning, as I was about to leave, the seamstress called.
“Miss Alice, your custom wedding dress has arrived. When can you come for the fitting?”
I steadied my voice against the tide of emotions threatening to drown me. “Cancel it. The wedding’s off.”
The woman hesitated. “This dress was a moonlit commission. The deposit alone was fifty million. If you wish to cancel, you’ll need to come in person to sign the forms.”
Reluctantly, I went to the boutique. As I signed the cancellation forms, another dress caught my eye. It gleamed like frost under moonlight, adorned with rare starsteel threads and enchanted diamonds that pulsed faintly with lunar energy.
“That’s…” My words faltered as two assistants wheeled it out with reverence. Their whispered chatter pierced through me like claws.
“Ella is so lucky,” one said with an envious sigh. “This dress is the most exquisite piece we’ve ever seen! It’s commissioned by an Alpha and an Ryan together.1 billion can’t even cover its magic enhancements.”
“Imagine two dominant wolves competing to spoil her,” another added. “What kind of blessing must she have to deserve that?”
My grip tightened around the pen, my claws threatening to pierce the paper.
When I arrived at Ryan’s office, the box of returned gifts felt heavier with every step. The receptionists greeted me with bright smiles.
“Mrs. Stone,” they chirped. “You’re so lucky! Ryan took a month off to prepare for your wedding!”
“Did you hear?” one whispered loudly. “He even bought a lunar relic necklace at auction for ten billion. It’s probably for the wedding.”
Their voices dripped with envy, but their words struck like daggers. Every detail they spoke of wasn’t mine. The wedding plans, the jewelry, the grand gestures—they were all for someone else.
The elevator doors slid open, and her voice spilled out before I saw her. Ella, leaning against Ryan, her arm looped through his.
“Ryan, this necklace is ridiculous. I can’t even move my neck with all this weight!”
He smirked, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “Didn’t you say you wanted Ethan to feel threatened? Consider it a success.”
I stepped into the room, the air thick with their shared intimacy. Ryan’s expression shifted when he noticed me, his gaze hardening like steel.
“Why are you here?” he demanded. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from the office? You’re disrupting my employees.”
His eyes fell on the box in my hands. “What’s that? Trash? Security, throw it out.”
Before I could speak, the guards seized the box and dumped it into the bin. I stared, my breath catching as the truth sank in—everything he’d given me was counterfeit. Cheap imitations. Worthless lies.
Ethan’s voice broke the silence.
“Ryan, your mate is standing here, and you’re holding mine. Care to explain?”
Ella stepped back, tears welling in her eyes as she turned to me. “Alice, I know you and Ethan have a history, but you accepted Ryan’s proposal. Why can’t you let Ethan go?”
Ryan’s glare deepened.
“This is your fault,” he growled. “You knew Ella’s insecurities, yet you reached out to Ethan. Was it to humiliate me?”
The contempt in his voice cut deeper than any claw. Ethan’s words were the final blow.
“I never loved Alice,” he said coldly. “Not before. Not now. Not ever.”
Ella’s tears spilled over, but the triumph in her eyes was unmistakable.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed before fleeing. Ethan followed without hesitation, leaving me in the suffocating silence of Ryan’s disdain.
Ryan turned to me, his gaze devoid of warmth.
“You’ve embarrassed me enough. Leave. Now.”
For the first time, my voice didn’t falter.
“No, Ryan. You leave.
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The company demanded our team work overtime to meet a deadline, causing everyone to forget to clock out.
I went to HR, who told me to talk to the boss.
I went to the boss, who told me to “learn my lesson.”
Seriously? The company makes money, the client gets their project on time.
And I, just a lowly worker, pull an all-nighter, damage my health, and lose my monthly attendance bonus?
Am I some kind of doormat?
I quit!
I hate working on projects for Indian clients.
The Indians messed up the timeline, demanding our security platform – originally scheduled to launch in two weeks – go live 10 days early.
In just 5 days, we have to complete performance optimization, bug fixes, security audits, OS compatibility testing, comprehensive testing, gather user feedback and make improvements.
I’m exhausted. I feel like jumping out the office window.
At 3 AM, to meet the deadline, all 12 members of the “Cloud Shadow Intelligent Security Defense Platform” project team are still working in the office.
Everyone knows we’re on a tight schedule, so no one has gone home.
As the project lead, I’m truly grateful for everyone’s dedication.
But little did we know, our conscientiousness in staying to work overtime without leaving the office even once would backfire.
It caused our entire team to be marked as leaving early the previous day for not clocking out, and absent today for not clocking in.
When Emma came to me with the attendance records, I thought it was a minor issue that could be easily fixed by talking to HR.
After all, the office security footage would prove we all stayed in the office working overtime.
Even the usual slackers cut down on their bathroom breaks.
I immediately grabbed my phone and headed to HR, planning to sort it out and get some fresh air.
My fingers were practically turning to stone from coding for so long.
Entering the HR office, I found three women chatting away.
One was showing off her new manicure, another complaining about her mischievous kid, and the third laughing hysterically at some TV show.
I felt a pang of envy. When would I get to enjoy such a relaxed workday, gossiping during office hours?
Seeing me, the happy atmosphere in the office instantly evaporated.
The three women froze, clearly not expecting anyone to come to HR so early. They silently returned to their desks.
I wondered if I’d come at a bad time and ruined their fun.
The woman closest to the door, with an elaborate updo and full makeup, was the manicure lady. She rolled her eyes, glanced at me, and asked coldly: “What do you want?”
I showed her my attendance record: “Can you remove these early departure and absence records? Our project team got notified yesterday that we need to launch the platform 10 days early. Everyone stayed late last night, so we didn’t…”
“Hold on,” Manicure Lady raised her left hand, her right hand tapping away at the keyboard.
My unfinished sentence got stuck in my throat. I could only wait silently.
Manicure Lady’s brow furrowed, then relaxed, then looked suspicious: “Tsk, what’s going on with your team? 12 people, all without clock-outs yesterday, and all absent this morning.”
When asking for a favor, you have to be polite:
“We were working overtime yesterday and forgot to clock out. We even slept in the office. If no one had reminded me this morning, I wouldn’t have realized we missed clocking in twice.”
Manicure Lady kept staring at her computer screen, clicking her mouse incessantly: “Ugh, so annoying.”
She suddenly slammed her mouse on the desk, leaned back in her chair, looking very irritated:
“I can’t remove this. There’s not even a leave request. How am I supposed to fix it?”
I stood there stunned, not expecting such an attitude from Manicure Lady.
Lack of sleep, plus all the coffee I’d been drinking like water these past two days, made my temper flare up quickly.
Before I knew it, I slammed my hand on Manicure Lady’s desk, pointing at her nose: “What’s with your attitude? Who are you giving attitude to?”
The three HR women looked at me in horror.
Looking at the three of them, I suddenly regretted my outburst.
Our company’s HR department was nicknamed the “Wives Club” because it was staffed by the wives or female relatives of company executives.
I’d gotten bold today and actually yelled at the Wives Club.
The HR ladies were used to throwing their weight around, but Manicure Lady clearly hadn’t expected me to be so forceful. She deflated a bit.
She muttered: “Why are you getting angry? If it can’t be fixed, it can’t be fixed. If you’ve got a problem, go talk to the boss.”
I grabbed my phone and practically ran out of the HR office.
Oh no, I’m in trouble now. Who knows which executive’s wife Manicure Lady is.
But after leaving the office, I calmed down.
What am I afraid of? I’m a tech backbone of the company, doing real work and making money for them.
Surely no brain-dead executive would fire me, right?
The more I thought about it, the more I felt I could still hang on at the company. After all, the value I create for the company is much higher than the Wives Club.
But I’ll probably face some trouble. If they don’t teach me a lesson, where would those self-important executives put their faces?
I sighed, resigning myself to my bad luck.
This society was never fair. If my husband outranked their husbands, I bet Manicure Lady wouldn’t have dared use that attitude with me.
The boss’s office was on the top floor. I’d been there once before for a project report, but rarely had the chance to go to the executive level.
Outside the boss’s office was a slightly smaller office for his secretary.
As I was about to knock, the secretary’s door opened a crack.
A woman in a gray suit poked her head out, asking coldly: “Who are you?”
I recognized this secretary – she was often seen following the boss. I couldn’t afford to offend her.
I quickly replied: “I’m Rachel, the project lead. I’m here to see the boss about removing some absence records.”
Understanding my purpose, the secretary frowned slightly: “For such a small matter, you should just go to HR. Why bother the boss?”
I explained: “HR said they can’t remove it without a leave slip.”
The secretary’s frown deepened. After a few seconds of silence: “The boss isn’t in the office now. He usually comes in around 3 PM.”
What? The boss doesn’t come in until 3 PM?
I almost blurted out in surprise but managed to hold it in.
After thanking her, I prepared to come back at 3 PM and turned to leave.
“Wait,” the secretary called out, “Come register and I’ll make an appointment for you.”
“Huh? Do I need an appointment even though I’m an internal employee?”
I must have looked very foolish, as I really don’t interact with upper management.
I couldn’t believe our crappy company required appointments just to see the boss.
The secretary gave me an annoyed look: “Of course. The boss arrives at 3 PM and leaves promptly at 5:30 PM, not a second later. Even directors and managers can’t always get on his schedule. How could a team lead like you not need an appointment?”
As she spoke, the secretary tapped on her tablet: “I’ve scheduled you for 5:20 PM. You only have 5 minutes. When time’s up, you have to leave whether you’ve finished or not.”
I nodded numbly, indicating I understood.
This boss puts on airs like an ancient emperor.
If I didn’t need this money to live, I would have quit long ago!
Let whoever wants to serve him do it. Is it easy for us working folks to earn money?
As soon as I got back to the office, everyone crowded around asking if I’d gotten the absence records removed.
I told them we didn’t have leave slips, so it couldn’t be removed.
As soon as I finished speaking, Emma exploded. She’s a young girl who just graduated and joined our company 6 months ago.
Emma shouted: “That’s ridiculous! We pulled an all-nighter to meet the deadline, and end up with absence records. We might as well have let the project be delayed. It’s not like it’s coming out of my pocket anyway.”
Emma started packing up her things: “Since I’m marked absent anyway, why should I stay at this crappy company? I’m going home to sleep!”
Several others also looked like they were thinking of packing up and going home.
I tried to calm everyone down: “I’ll definitely get the boss to approve removing everyone’s absence records this afternoon!”
After much persuasion, Emma finally put down her half-packed bag and sat in her chair sulking.
Olivia is a middle-aged woman like me, with elderly parents and young kids to support. She never thinks about her own feelings, only money!
After I promised to talk to the boss about removing the absence records, Olivia was still worried: “You must explain it well to the boss this afternoon. The monthly perfect attendance bonus is $300, and the year-end bonus is also tied to this. Without perfect attendance, we could lose thousands of dollars.”
I reassured Olivia: “Don’t worry, the boss should have that much perspective.”
At 5:10 PM, I was waiting outside the boss’s office 10 minutes early.
Time ticked by second by second. The wall clock soon showed 5:25 PM.
I got anxious. Why hasn’t the previous person come out yet?
I asked the secretary. Without looking up, she replied: “Mr. Davis is discussing a project with the boss. If you want to listen in, you can go in.”
How could I dare? A big boss and an operations director.
I’m just a nobody. I could only wait patiently.
Soon the minute hand reached 35. Voices came from the door.
The boss and Mr. Davis walked out chatting and laughing. I hurriedly stepped forward.
Respectfully: “Hello, boss. Hello, Mr. Davis.”
Mr. Davis’s face flashed with displeasure. He still wanted to chat more with the boss, but I’d interrupted.
After saying goodbye to the boss, Mr. Davis left.
The boss didn’t linger either, heading straight for his private elevator.
I followed behind the boss like a tail: “Boss, I’m Rachel, the project lead for the Cloud Shadow Intelligent Security Defense Platform. Our project was originally due in two weeks but suddenly needs to be completed in 5 days.”
Seeing we were just steps from the elevator, I sped up: “The team members have all been working overtime. Last night no one went home, causing us to miss clocking out last night and in this morning. Because we don’t have leave slips, it can’t be removed. HR said we need your approval.”
I finished in one breath, feeling a bit short of air.
But I’d finally seen the boss. With just one word from him, our absence records could be removed.
We reached the private elevator. The secretary had already pressed the button, and the elevator was quietly waiting.
The boss walked in and turned to look at me: “Rules are rules. If I make an exception for you today, what about when others ask me tomorrow? Do I help them or not?”
The boss looked at his secretary: “Sarah, just handle these things yourself in the future.”
The secretary nodded in acknowledgment.
I was about to say more, begging the boss to be lenient, when the elevator doors slowly closed in front of me.
The secretary left without lingering, turning back towards her office.
I was left alone, staring at the closed elevator doors, feeling lost.
Everyone on the project team sacrifices their time for money, staying late at the office.
But what’s the result?
The company’s project is successfully delivered, money goes into the boss’s pocket.
Employees work diligently for a month, then lose the $300 perfect attendance bonus at month-end, and thousands in year-end bonus.
Even someone like me with a thick skin is thinking of quitting.
How am I supposed to face the people on the project team?
I’d made such confident promises this morning, only to have reality slap me in the face.
I don’t remember how I got back to the project office. In the blink of an eye, I was surrounded by everyone.
“Rachel, did the boss agree?” Olivia asked anxiously.
Looking at everyone’s expectant faces, I didn’t know how to answer.
I just shook my head. This simple gesture seemed to drain all my energy.
The hopeful looks in everyone’s eyes instantly dimmed. Olivia’s eyes reddened with urgency: “How can this be? Why didn’t the boss agree? Rachel, did you not explain it clearly?”
Looking at Olivia, I suddenly felt we were all so pitiful.
We do the work, but don’t get a share when it comes to the money.
This world is truly absurd. I smiled self-mockingly, feeling I’d learned another important lesson.
“I explained it clearly to the boss. He said ‘rules are rules’ and told the secretary to handle these things herself in the future, not to bother him.”
Olivia’s hand resting on the desk was shaking. The color drained from her face at my words: “Why? How can this be?”
Seeing Olivia like this, Emma, who had been holding back, finally exploded. She pulled over a chair, stood on the desk, and waved her arms: “Look at this everyone! We give our all to the company, and the company treats employees like slaves! How can they bully us like this?”
Suddenly, Emma turned to look at me, her eyes red: “I’m going home today. Whoever wants to work this crappy job can work it. Don’t try to stop me!”
For some reason, I also felt the urge to follow Emma, abandon the project, and go home for a good sleep.
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##
After five years of marriage to my husband, I finally got pregnant with our child.
Overjoyed, I went to share the news with him, only for him to respond coldly: “Having Ethan as my child is enough for me.”
It wasn’t until I discovered that my husband had been sending flowers to his ex-wife every Valentine’s Day that it finally hit me:
He had never truly moved on from her.
All he ever wanted was to have a child with the person he actually loved.
Without hesitation, I scheduled an appointment to terminate the pregnancy and handed him a printed copy of the divorce papers.
“This relationship? I’ll be the one to walk away.”
When I brought home the pregnancy test results, my husband was in the kitchen helping his stepson bake a cake.
“Claire, come over here! Look at the fruit Ethan cut himself—isn’t it great?”
The way he looked at his stepson was full of tenderness. He was, without a doubt, a wonderful father.
For five years, I had often wondered if my husband would treat our child with the same love and care he showered on Ethan if I ever got pregnant.
“Babe, I’ve got some great news to share!”
He smiled at me, his face lighting up. “Look at how happy you are! What’s going on?”
I walked quickly to his side, holding the test results up like a trophy. “Zach, I’m pregnant! Once the baby’s born, Ethan won’t have to play with his toys by himself anymore!”
But suddenly, his expression darkened.
His voice turned cold. “Having Ethan is enough for me.”
Ethan, overhearing this, threw a tantrum. He grabbed the finished cake and smashed it onto the floor. Frosting splattered everywhere.
“Dad! If she has a baby, I’m leaving! I’ll go live with Mom! She already told me that if she has a baby, you won’t love me anymore!”
Tears streamed down his face as he cried uncontrollably.
My husband immediately hugged him, trying to calm him down. “Ethan, I promised your mom you’d be my only child, okay? Don’t cry.”
Ethan sniffled and finally stopped crying but turned to glare at me with resentment.
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.
After five years of marriage, had my husband never considered having a child with me?
Sensing my disappointment, my husband sighed. “Claire, I’m just not ready to have another child yet. Can you give me some time?”
I quietly went to the bedroom to manage my emotions.
On the nightstand sat a model airplane my husband had built for Ethan and a scarf he had hand-knit for him. I couldn’t quite describe how I felt.
I collapsed onto the bed, resting my hand on my stomach.
He only wanted Ethan. But what about our child?
Feeling overwhelmed, I ended up taking an afternoon nap for the first time in years.
When I woke up, my husband was sitting by the bed with a jewelry box in his hands.
“Claire, I’m sorry about earlier. While you were sleeping, I went out and bought you something—a necklace. Let me put it on for you.”
He opened the box, revealing a delicate gold necklace.
He swept my hair to the side and fastened it around my neck.
“Claire, your health has always been fragile, and I’m worried about the risks of you having a baby. I didn’t mean what I said earlier—I wasn’t thinking clearly. And as for what my ex-wife said, I don’t care about that. Ethan’s just a kid; I’m more concerned about how he’s feeling.”
Seeing that I was still upset, he added, “Claire, my ex-wife left me when I was at my lowest, but you stayed. You’ve been with me through it all, and you’re the one I love most. Don’t overthink this, okay?”
I thought back to the year I met him. He couldn’t even scrape together $300 and had to move from place to place with his son, struggling to make ends meet.
After we got married, I sold my dowry to help him start his business.
Over time, he earned more and more money and treated me like a queen.
He even made an effort to bring Ethan and me closer, knowing his son might feel uneasy about me being in their lives.
I caved.
Since my husband had taken the initiative to explain things, I decided there was no point in holding a grudge.
Just as I was about to say something, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then stepped out onto the balcony to take the call.
For some reason, I could sense that something was off.
When he returned, his tone had changed. “Claire, let’s keep the baby. It’s our child, after all. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of so you can have a safe pregnancy.”
I nodded slightly, but something about his sudden change of heart didn’t sit right with me.
That evening, Zach cooked dinner himself. He even took a picture of the ultrasound report and posted it on Facebook with a caption about how excited he was.
But that very post brought his mother to our door.
“I was wondering why Ethan’s been so upset lately. Turns out, it’s because *you*—this little homewrecker—managed to get yourself pregnant with Zach’s child! You’re manipulative, aren’t you? Trying to use a baby to tie him down, huh?”
Her words were like daggers, sharp and unrelenting.
She had never liked me. When Zach and I got married, he didn’t have much money, and my parents had asked him to contribute at least a little financially to the wedding. That small request had become a source of endless criticism from her.
She had clung to that grudge, accusing me of making things unnecessarily difficult for Zach, and she loved to remind me that, in her day, no one asked for dowries.
Now, she had found the perfect excuse to berate me again.
“I only recognize Ethan as my grandchild! When Zach married his ex-wife, Jessica, they didn’t spend a dime on the wedding!”
To make her point even clearer, she didn’t hesitate to bring up Zach’s ex-wife, Jessica, just to spite me.
I turned to Zach for help, desperation in my eyes. He sighed and said, “Mom, Jessica and I have been over for years. Can we not do this?”
His mother’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But you still love her, don’t you?”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
I couldn’t help but wonder—did Zach still have feelings for his ex-wife? I tried to silence that thought, reminding myself to trust my husband.
But the sound of a chair being kicked over snapped me out of it.
“Enough, Mom!” Zach’s voice boomed, startling her into silence. “I said not to bring this up anymore! And don’t mention Jessica in front of Claire again—it’ll just upset her.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated, then gently helped me back to the bedroom to rest.
Lying there, I chastised myself internally.
Zach had done so much to protect me—how could I let myself doubt him like that?
The next day, I woke up to the smell of food. It was already 11 a.m., and Zach was setting the last dish on the table.
“Wait, is that bell peppers?” I asked, surprised. “I thought you hated them? Why’d you cook them today?”
Before he could answer, the doorbell rang.
Zach’s mother hurried to open the door.
It was Ethan and Jessica, his ex-wife.
His mother’s face lit up as she ushered them in. “Jessica, come in! You know, Zach still thinks about you. Look! He even made bell peppers for you—just like he used to. Go ahead, try them and see if they still taste the same!”
Zach froze, panic flashing across his face. He leaned in close to whisper to me, “Claire, I made them for Ethan.”
He reached out as if he wanted to hold me but stopped himself halfway, withdrawing his hand with an apologetic look. “Ethan’s here. I don’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.”
The three of them looked like a picture-perfect family, while I, the one who was supposed to be his wife, felt like an outsider.
Jessica’s gaze drifted to my stomach. After a pause, she said, “Once your wife has the baby, I’ll take Ethan to live with me. You’ll have your own child, so there’s no need for you to worry about mine anymore.”
Her words seemed like an attempt to draw a clear line between her and Zach, but I could tell she was testing him, waiting to see how he would react.
Zach didn’t respond. Instead, he quietly placed a piece of beef on my plate.
But I’m allergic to beef.
Jessica gave him a long, searching look before saying, “Zach, do you even know what you really want?”
My husband’s sharp gaze swept over Jessica, but she just laughed unabashedly. “It’s time you figured it out,” she said, grabbing her bag. “I’ve got things to do. Ethan can stay with you for a few days.”
With that, she walked out the door. My husband’s eyes lingered on her retreating figure for a moment before he quickly looked down, avoiding my gaze.
Ethan stared at him, wide-eyed. “Dad, Mom says you love her the most. So why are you with Aunt Claire?”
My husband frowned, his voice curt. “You’re too young to understand.”
Under the table, he squeezed my hand, signaling me to stay calm.
His mother snorted. “Your dad’s just trying to upset your mom, that’s all!”
I could tell she said it to get under my skin, and honestly, it worked. My mind was already spinning.
“I have work to do,” Zach said, setting his fork down and getting up to leave.
But Ethan clung to his sleeve, his voice trembling. “Dad, I hate you! Mom’s always crying because of you!”
My usually gentle husband suddenly snapped, shouting, “Go study! If you don’t finish by eleven, don’t even think about going to bed!”
Ethan froze for a moment before bursting into tears, but Zach didn’t flinch.
After that day, Zach started treating me better than ever.
To the point where, if I’d asked for the stars, he might have tried to pluck them from the sky for me.
When I was about six weeks pregnant, Zach suddenly threw on a jacket late at night, getting ready to leave.
I handed him a thicker coat. “It’s cold outside. Are you heading back to the office this late?”
He hesitated for a moment, then placed his hands firmly on my shoulders, looking serious. “Jessica has a high fever. You know her family isn’t around, so I…”
“Go ahead,” I said, cutting him off, my face expressionless.
He seemed anxious, worried I might be upset. “I’ll be back soon. I don’t have feelings for her anymore. I’m just taking her to the hospital because she’s Ethan’s mom.”
I pushed him gently toward the door, slipping the car keys into his hand.
The next morning, he called me from the hospital, asking if I could bring Ethan over to see his mom.
I didn’t hesitate. I woke Ethan up, got him dressed, and took him to the hospital.
“Claire, you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Zach asked when we arrived. “I’ll go grab breakfast for all of us. Wait here.”
As soon as he left, Jessica pointed to the phone Zach had accidentally left on the nightstand.
“Zach and I have always loved each other,” she said, her tone dripping with smugness. “If you open our chat history, you’ll see exactly what I mean.”
Her words were like a lure, and against my better judgment, I picked up his phone and unlocked it.
The first thing I saw was a recurring order: every Valentine’s Day, Zach had been sending Jessica flowers.
Oddly enough, I didn’t feel angry. Instead, I felt a strange sense of relief.
Ethan, oblivious to my emotions, laughed and pointed at me. “Mom, look! Aunt Claire’s eyes are red!”
The hospital was twenty kilometers from home. I didn’t take a cab or a bus. I walked the entire way, letting the cold wind clear my head.
When I got home, I calmly drafted a divorce agreement, printed it out, and scheduled an appointment for a termination.
Later that evening, Zach came home carrying a bag of hot food. “Claire, why’d you leave? You haven’t eaten yet. Come sit down.”
His mother, who had been lingering nearby, rolled her eyes at me and said mockingly, “What’s next? Do you need my son to spoon-feed you too?”
Zach’s face hardened. “Mom, can you stop being so rude to Claire?”
But I wasn’t in the mood to watch him play the role of the perfect husband anymore.
I handed him the divorce papers. “I’m done. This marriage is over. I’ll take the house and the car—as compensation. You don’t love me, so let’s not pretend anymore. I’ll terminate the pregnancy. There’s no point in bringing this child into the world.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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###
On the day of the company’s IPO, the CEO—my fiancé—was supposed to make our relationship official.
I thought this would finally be the moment I got the recognition I deserved.
But during her big speech, right in front of the entire company, she called someone else on stage.
Her real love.
A man who had only been with the company for three months.
Standing side by side, their fingers intertwined, Jason—her smug, ever-present shadow—looked right at me from the stage and raised an eyebrow, a cruel smirk curling at his lips.
“I didn’t plan to make our relationship public so soon,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “But… someone around me has been so eager for me to make things official. So, here we are.”
My girfriend turned to him, her face glowing with affection. She didn’t deny it. She didn’t call out his lie. If anything, her eyes were filled with love, like she couldn’t care less about how humiliating this was—for me.
And then, as if that weren’t enough, she announced that she was giving my shares—the ones I’d worked years to earn—to her “true love.”
“Without you, this company wouldn’t exist,” she said, her voice dripping with gratitude as she handed over everything I had built. “I hope, Jason, that from now on, you’ll lead our team to even greater success!”
The two of them stood there, playing their perfect little act, while the crowd below erupted into applause, cheering them on like they were the perfect couple.
And me?
I just sat there, quiet, unmoving.
I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry.
I simply watched.
Let them celebrate. Let them enjoy their moment.
Because I want to see how they plan to “achieve greater success” without me—this company’s biggest investor and the one who built it from the ground up.
Let’s see how far they get without me.
0
When Penelope handed over the stock transfer documents to Jason, I was completely stunned.
For a moment, my ears rang so loudly I thought I was dreaming. But as the applause erupted around me, I realized this was all too real.
“Wait, what’s going on? Wasn’t Evan supposed to be her fiancé? How did it suddenly become Jason?”
“Jason’s only been with the company for what, three months? And now he’s hit the jackpot? Man, he’s set for life now!”
“Exactly. Poor Evan, though. Years of blood, sweat, and tears, and he walks away with nothing.”
The applause died down, replaced by hushed whispers rippling through the crowd. But none of them made any effort to hide their gossip from me—the person they were clearly talking about.
I knew what they were doing. They wanted to humiliate me, to curry favor with the new shareholder.
Jason, ever the opportunist, wasted no time. He looked over at me, tugging on Penelope’s sleeve like a child begging for attention. “Evan, are you… upset with Penelope’s decision? Or maybe you’re not happy about me getting the shares?”
His voice was dripping with fake humility, like he was trying to play the victim.
“I know I haven’t been with the company long, so it’s understandable if you’re not impressed with me. But I’ll work hard to earn your respect. I just hope you can be genuinely happy for me today.”
Jason’s little monologue left me speechless. I hadn’t said a word. I was just sitting there quietly, and yet he was acting like I was the villain in his story. It was almost laughable.
“Which eye of yours saw me not being happy for you?” I finally asked, my tone calm and sharp.
“Evan, what’s with your attitude?” Penelope cut in coldly, her voice laced with irritation. “Jason was just being considerate, and this is how you respond? Don’t forget—he’s your superior now.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected, but it wasn’t the first time she’d sided with him.
“Superior? A guy who can’t even get basic data right? I’d rather not.”
“Shut up!” Penelope snapped, her voice icy. “The last time there was a mistake, it was you who handed Jason the wrong files. He only made an error because of you! Stop blaming others for your carelessness. Why don’t you try taking responsibility for once?”
I stared at her silently, the woman I had loved for five years. Her face was the same, but her words… they cut deeper than any knife ever could.
In the two months Jason had been with the company, he’d made countless mistakes—three major ones that cost us contracts, and more minor errors than I could count. Every time, Penelope somehow found a way to shift the blame onto me.
And now, she was still convinced Jason was some sort of genius. That I wasn’t even worthy of being in the same room as him.
Jason, of course, played his part perfectly. He tugged on Penelope’s hand, his voice trembling with fake guilt. “Penelope, please don’t fight with him because of me. I’m just a newbie—if Evan’s upset, it’s my fault. I don’t want to cause trouble.”
Penelope’s expression softened immediately. She turned to me, her tone sharp but smug. “Evan’s upset? He’s the one who’s caused the company millions in losses because of his constant mistakes. He should be grateful I’m even letting him keep his position.”
She crossed her arms, her voice dripping with condescension. “If he can’t handle it, he’s free to leave. Though let’s be honest—there’s no other company that would offer him the kind of salary and role I’ve given him here.”
Her words made me laugh.
She really thought this company’s success was all because of her?
She didn’t know—or maybe she’d forgotten—that this company only went public because of my connections. Because of my money.
And now that she’d gotten what she wanted, she thought she could just toss me aside and take all the credit?
I stood up slowly. Jason immediately went pale, his face tightening as though he thought I was about to hit him.
Penelope’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Why do you both look so nervous?” I said, my voice light but mocking. “If Jason’s so talented, it doesn’t make sense for him to stay in a subordinate role. How about we switch? He can have my position as CEO.”
The room fell dead silent.
Everyone stared at me, their faces a mix of shock and disbelief.
After all, everyone here knew the truth: this company had been built from the ground up by me. I had sacrificed years of my life, pouring everything I had into turning Penelope’s dream into a reality.
When the company was nothing but a tiny startup, I was the one working late nights, making every decision, finding every investor.
I did it all because I wanted to be her foundation, her support.
And now that the company was thriving, everyone assumed Penelope would finally recognize my efforts. That this would be the moment she lifted me up beside her.
But instead, she wanted me to hand over everything I’d built.
I thought back to the night before the IPO.
Penelope had curled up in my arms, talking excitedly about our future. About how we’d finally be able to live openly as a couple.
I had stayed awake the whole night, unable to contain my excitement.
But when the big day came, the future she had promised wasn’t mine.
It was Jason’s.
I finally understood: it wasn’t that Penelope didn’t like public displays of affection or grand romantic gestures. She just didn’t like me.
The realization was bitter, but it was freeing too.
“Fine,” I said simply, brushing past them.
Penelope froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. She had expected me to fight, to cling to what little dignity I had left.
Instead, I walked out of the room without looking back.
Just as I stepped outside, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb.
The driver got out, bowing slightly as he opened the door for me.
“Young Master,” he said respectfully, “your father asked me to remind you—it’s time to stop playing around. You need to come home and take over the family fortune.”
I smirked, stepping into the car without a second glance at the company behind me.
Let’s see how far Penelope and Jason get without me.
0
I’m the only son of the world’s richest man—a name that people can only dream of being associated with.
The first time I met Penelope was at the hospital. Her mother had been in a car accident and was in the middle of a messy legal battle with a trust fund kid.
As her mom’s attending physician, I got to know Penelope over time. There was something about her resilience, her unshakable determination, that drew me in. But in the end, her mother didn’t make it. Since then, Penelope had harbored a deep distrust of anyone with wealth and privilege.
When I decided to pursue her, I made the choice to hide my identity.
Later, when Penelope told me she wanted to start her own business, I didn’t hesitate—I quit my job at the hospital and turned down my father’s invitation to return home and take over the family empire. I followed her into the unknown, ready to help her chase her dreams.
For five years, my entire life revolved around her.
I thought those five years of effort would finally pay off. I thought I’d finally get to hold the hand of the woman I loved, openly and proudly.
But when it mattered most, Penelope let me go.
“Sir, we’ve arrived.”
The driver’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
After stepping out of the car, I told Uncle Ming to head back. “Once I’ve dealt with everything here, I’ll come home,” I said firmly.
When I got back home, the first thing I saw was the cake.
It was still sitting on the dining table, completely melted.
I had bought it to celebrate tonight—what was supposed to be the night we made our relationship public.
Now, it just felt like a slap in the face.
Fury bubbled up inside me. Before I realized it, I was flipping the table, smashing the cold, untouched food and the ruined cake to the floor.
I didn’t stop there. I started packing my things, determined to leave this house filled with memories of her.
Just as I opened the closet, my phone buzzed.
It was a message from Jason.
I opened it to find a photo.
In the picture, Penelope was lying on white bedsheets, completely naked. Her face was flushed, and there were unmistakable marks on her neck.
My grip on the phone tightened as rage coursed through me.
Before Jason could delete it, I saved the photo and took a screenshot.
Right on cue, the next message came:
“Oops, sorry, Evan. Sent it to the wrong person. Hope you don’t take it the wrong way.”
I let out a bitter laugh. He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.
Ever since Jason joined the company, he’d been sending me photos of him and Penelope.
At first, it was little things—a picture of them holding hands, an arm around her shoulders. But this? This was a whole new level.
If this had been a few months ago, I probably would’ve stormed into the hotel and demanded answers from Penelope.
But now?
I didn’t feel anything.
I didn’t reply to Jason’s message. What was the point? I was leaving tomorrow, and it wasn’t like we’d ever cross paths again.
Without a second thought, I blocked him and deleted the entire conversation.
I booked the earliest flight out for the next afternoon.
After packing, I grabbed my suitcase and checked into a hotel near the airport.
As soon as I settled into my room, my phone started ringing.
It was Penelope.
I ignored the first call. And the second. And the third.
But by the time she called for the fifth or sixth time, I caved. Out of some leftover sense of loyalty—or maybe just pity—I finally answered.
“Evan,” she snapped the moment I picked up. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Her tone was sharp, accusatory.
“The shares? That was my decision. Jason had nothing to do with it. If you had a problem, you should’ve said something then and there instead of acting like a petty coward afterward!”
I stayed silent, letting her rant.
“Acting all gracious in front of the employees—who were you trying to fool? And now you’re throwing a fit over a single photo? What are you, a child? Listen to me carefully: you’d better apologize to Jason. If you don’t, don’t blame me for ignoring you from now on!”
Her words were so absurd, I actually laughed.
A single photo? She really believed Jason’s lies without a second thought.
“Apologize?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Penelope, if anyone’s going to be apologizing, it’s you. Do it now, and maybe you’ll lose a little less in the end.”
“Are you delusional?” she screamed. “You’re out of your mind! Fine, don’t apologize. But let’s see if you’re still so smug when you show up at the office tomorrow!”
She hung up before I could respond.
I didn’t care.
What she didn’t know was that my resignation letter had already been sent to HR. By the time she showed up at work tomorrow, it would be sitting on her desk.
And as for her company? I wasn’t going back.
0
The next morning, I was jolted awake by Penelope’s incessant calls.
“Evan, why aren’t you at work yet?”
In the past, whenever we fought, I’d always wait for her at the office, staying late until she cooled off and finally came back. And when she did, I’d apologize first, find ways to cheer her up, and pretend like nothing ever happened.
“Are you still mad about yesterday? It’s just some shares, Evan. I’m the majority shareholder—do you really think I’d shortchange you? You’re with me, aren’t you?”
Her tone was casual, as if she thought she could brush the whole thing under the rug.
“The company is at a critical stage right now. You think it’s just about wining and dining people to secure deals? Jason’s uncle is well-connected—he’s a high-ranking official in the Department of Land Development. Someone like him won’t help us out of kindness alone. I need leverage to keep him on our side.”
I knew about Jason’s uncle. For someone like Penelope—who always wanted a piece of every pie—he was the perfect connection. What surprised me, though, was that she was actually explaining herself to me.
Maybe a part of me would’ve understood her logic before. But after everything she’d done, I couldn’t justify her sleeping her way to resources.
“Evan, we’ve come so far together. Can’t you try to understand my position?”
Her voice softened, something I rarely heard from her. After all, I was always the one who gave in first.
Before I could respond, I heard her office door open on the other end of the line.
There was a pause, followed by the sharp edge of her anger.
“Evan, you’re resigning? Who gave you permission to leave? I’m not approving your resignation! Where are you right now? Get back here immediately!”
“I’m not coming back,” I said coolly. “If you think Jason is such a valuable asset, then stick with him.”
“Evan, what is that supposed to mean? Tell me where you are right now!”
Her voice grew more frantic, but then I heard the familiar ding of an elevator in the background.
“Penelope, where are you rushing off to?”
Jason’s voice.
“Track all flights and train schedules immediately,” Penelope barked. “Evan’s trying to quit. We need to stop him.”
Jason hesitated for a moment, then smoothly took her phone from her hand.
“Evan,” he said, his tone calm and measured, “is this about me? Are you leaving because of me?”
He sounded so sincere, but I knew better.
“I know you don’t like me,” he continued. “You’ve never approved of me getting the shares, and if it bothers you that much, I’ll give them all back. I just don’t want you making rash decisions.”
“You’ve been with the company for years. Now that we’ve gone public, how will it look to the employees if you quit? You’ll cause unnecessary speculation and damage Penelope’s reputation.”
Penelope’s voice cut him off sharply. “This has nothing to do with you, Jason. Stay out of it. Evan, I’ll handle this myself. You need to stay right where you are. This company can survive without anyone—but not without you.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Just as I was about to hang up, Penelope spoke again. “Evan, Jason just apologized to you. What more do you want?”
“Apologized?” I scoffed. “And one little apology is supposed to justify taking what’s rightfully mine?”
“Yours?” she snapped. “This company belongs to me. I can give shares to whoever I want. What’s yours, exactly? Jason was right—you’ve been sitting in your position as CEO for years, resenting me, haven’t you? Were you planning to push me aside and take over as chairman?”
“Wouldn’t I deserve it?” I shot back. “Do you think you’d be where you are today without me?”
“Evan, that’s enough,” Jason interjected, faking a sympathetic tone. “Sure, you’ve worked hard, but let’s not forget that Penelope’s leadership is what made this company thrive. You were just following her vision.”
“Jason, stop wasting your breath on someone like him,” Penelope said coldly. “People like Evan are never satisfied, no matter how much you give them.”
She took a deep breath and continued, her voice icy. “Fine. You want to leave? Go ahead. I approve your resignation. Get out of my sight and don’t ever let me see you again.”
I could hear the faint smirk in Jason’s voice as he added, “Are you sure that’s wise? Evan has been by your side for so long.”
“Don’t worry,” Penelope replied dismissively. “I know Evan better than anyone. He’ll come crawling back. He’s just throwing a tantrum because he doesn’t like my decisions. Give it three days—he’ll be begging me to take him back.”
That was the moment I realized Penelope had always known how much I loved her. She’d always known I couldn’t let her go.
And yet, she still chose to hurt me over and over again.
For the first time, I felt nothing for her. No anger. No sadness. Just… nothing.
The call abruptly ended with a sharp beep.
But just before the line went dead, I heard someone in the background frantically say, “Penelope, we have a problem! Several of our major investors just pulled out. Multiple projects are on hold, and we’re looking at an estimated loss of $300 million!”
🌟 Continue the story here
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On New Year’s Eve, my husband got into a fight with someone at a hotel while staying there with my college classmate, Gia.
When the police called me to sign some paperwork and pay the fine, I found him comforting Gia, who was sobbing pitifully with tears streaming down her face.
As soon as he saw me, a guilty smile tugged at his lips. “Gia’s building was evacuated due to an incident,” he said quickly, “I was just keeping her company.”
If this had been in the past, I would’ve broken down, yelling and demanding answers.
But tonight, I calmly signed the papers, paid the fine, and brought him out of the police station.
Outside, he beamed at me, his face full of relief. “You’re the best, honey. I was so worried you’d be upset with me.”
I forced a faint smile. What was there to be upset about? I didn’t love him anymore. Being angry seemed like a waste of energy.
“Babe, the car’s parked outside the hotel. Drive us back,” Ewan said as we left the station.
I had planned to head straight home after bailing him out, but he insisted on a detour. I didn’t bother questioning him. Instead, I nodded and turned toward the hotel.
“You should drive, honey. I had a bit to drink,” he added as he climbed into the backseat.
Gia followed suit, slipping in beside him.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, I adjusted the mirror and caught sight of a pink sticker on the dashboard. A soft chuckle escaped me, bitter and dry. Since learning Ewan had taken Gia for rides in the passenger seat more times than I could count, I hadn’t set foot in his car.
Now, seeing that the front seat had been personalized to suit her tastes, it was hard not to notice how comfortable she had become in claiming her territory.
Following my gaze, Ewan flushed slightly and hurried to explain, “Oh, don’t mind that, babe. Gia’s still a kid at heart. You know how they are.”
“A kid?”
I said flatly, shifting into reverse.
Funny how he conveniently forgot Gia and I had graduated the same year. Over the past three years, Ewan treated this car like a treasure, never letting me so much as adjust the air freshener without complaint.
Yet, within a year, Gia could redecorate without a word of protest. I couldn’t help but admire her tactics. She had made herself at home so quickly it was almost impressive.
Back when this mess started, it was during a dinner party. Gia had been lamenting her struggles at work, and out of some misguided sense of nostalgia for our college years, I asked Ewan to offer her a role as an intern.
At first, he griped about her incompetence, calling it a waste of time.
But as time went on, they became closer.
His complaints lessened, replaced by casual compliments.
By the time I caught on to what was happening, it was far too late.
Take tonight, for example. He claimed he’d be away on a business trip, yet there he was, comforting Gia while the police waited for someone to pay the fine for his drunken brawl.
He had punched a passerby, who was furious and called the police. They were both taken away, which led to what happened next.
When I arrived, Ewan was even half-naked, yet he was still comforting Gia, who was crying uncontrollably.
If it were in the past, I would have screamed and cursed him out loud.
But today, I just signed the papers and bailed him out.
Pretending to be indifferent, I asked, “Really? What accident?”
Ewan thought for a while and then blurted out, “Uh… Gas leak. Otherwise, she wouldn’t end up in a hotel.”
His lie made me sigh. I kept driving, and when we reached an intersection, Ewan seemed to remember something. “Let’s drop Gia off first,” he said. “She’s had a rough night.”
I glanced at him through the rearview mirror, watching how his shoulder pressed against hers. Who knew what else they were doing out of sight?
“I’m tired,” I replied evenly. “I’d rather head home. You two can figure it out from there.”
Gia’s soft, simpering voice chimed in from the backseat. “It’s okay, Ewan. I don’t want to trouble Cici any more tonight. She’s already done so much.”
Her tone, full of faux innocence, was enough to make my stomach churn.
But Ewan, tipsy and evidently emboldened, snapped at me.
“Cici, I told you to stop! Are you deaf?”
“Stop the car! Now!”
He slammed a fist against the back of my seat, jolting me. My foot instinctively pressed the brake as I turned to glare at him in disbelief.
Was he insane? Didn’t he know I was driving?
Before I could scold him, Ewan stormed out of the backseat and yanked open my door. He unbuckled my seatbelt and pulled me out.
“Ewan, what the hell?”
The icy pavement caught my heel, and I slipped, landing hard on the frozen ground. My knee throbbed as it struck the edge of the curb.
Ewan glanced down at me, his earlier guilt evaporating completely, replaced by pure irritation.
“Cici, stop playing games. What’s the big deal about turning the car around? You’re just being petty because you have a problem with Gia, aren’t you? If you don’t want to drive, I will!”
My knee throbbed from where it had slammed against the curb, and I grimaced, biting back the sharp words on the tip of my tongue. But before I could say anything, Ewan had already turned away and climbed into the driver’s seat.
The car door slammed shut with a loud thud, and he didn’t spare me another glance.
Gia stepped out of the backseat and slid into the passenger seat. As she passed me, she gave me a smug look and pretended to be apologetic.
“Cici, are you okay? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen…” she murmured.
“Gia! Get in the car. There’s no need to talk to her,” Ewan barked, his voice cutting through the icy air.
Gia froze as she pretended to help me up. Then, she nodded obediently and slipped into the passenger seat.
“Ewan! You’ve been drinking. You can’t drive!” I shouted, my voice rising in desperation.
The only response was the rev of the engine as the car peeled away, disappearing into the night.
Standing there in the biting cold, dressed too lightly for the weather, I couldn’t muster the energy to care whether Ewan got pulled over for drunk driving or not.
It took me half an hour to flag down a cab, half an hour of shivering in the freezing wind. By the time I stepped through the front door of our apartment, my body was numb, and my heart felt as frozen as my hands.
I couldn’t even shed a tear. A year had passed, and my passion for Ewan had died.
Ewan was already home, lounging on the couch as if nothing had happened.
“You said you were out of town for a business trip. Why did the police call me to pick you up from a fight?” I demanded, my voice colder than the wind outside.
For a moment, he faltered, his expression slipping into unease before settling into a defensive scowl.
“I told you already, didn’t I? Gia’s building had a gas leak, and they evacuated everyone. I didn’t want to stress you out, so I just said I was out of town. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”
His deflection was so clumsy, so transparently false, that I didn’t even have the energy to argue. Instead, I waved him off and retreated to the bedroom, unwilling to waste my breath on another pointless fight.
The next morning, I woke up to a fever burning through my body. Every inch of me ached, and my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper.
Ewan noticed my pale face and furrowed brow, and for the first time in months, he seemed genuinely concerned.
“Babe, I’m sorry about last night. You know how I get when I’ve had too much to drink. Are you okay? I’ll make you some soup,” he offered, his voice unusually soft.
I stayed silent, pulling the blanket tighter around me. Just as he turned to leave the room, his phone buzzed on the nightstand.
The screen lit up with Gia’s name, her caller ID photo smiling mockingly at me.
Ewan hesitated, his phone in hand, staring at the screen for a few moments before reluctantly answering.
His face betrayed a flicker of hesitation as though he was torn between wanting to pacify me and the inopportune timing of Gia’s call ruining the fragile truce he’d been trying to build.
I turned my head away, unwilling to be part of whatever excuse or justification he was about to make.
Seeing my reaction, Ewan sighed and finally answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Ewan. Why didn’t you come to work today?”
Gia’s sweet voice came through the receiver, making my stomach churn.
Ewan glanced at me. It was as if he wanted to prove to me that he and Gia had nothing to hide. Instead of stepping away or lowering his voice, he replied as though he were dictating the conversation for my benefit. “Cici’s sick. I stayed home to take care of her.”
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a delicate cough.
“Oh no, really? It must’ve been from last night. The cold snap’s been brutal. I’m starting to feel under the weather too. Tell Cici to take care of herself, okay? And, um, Ewan, could you pick up some medicine for me on your way in?”
“You’re sick too? What symptoms are you having?”
After the call ended, Ewan became visibly distracted. Halfway through making soup, he gave up altogether.
“Hey, I should head to the office and check on things,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. “I’ll order some soup for you, and you can grab it from the door when it arrives.”
“Got it,” I replied flatly, watching him hurriedly grab his coat.
As he left, I felt a strange emptiness settle over me. I wasn’t heartbroken, but being weighed, found wanting, and discarded left a bitter taste in my mouth.
Ewan and I met in our second year of college, dated for two years, and got married shortly after graduation. Five years later, the man standing before me now felt like a stranger.
Gia had been part of my life, too. She was a friend from college, albeit not a close one.
How she developed feelings for Ewan or when she began acting on them, I couldn’t say.
In our student days, she’d seemed ordinary enough, bright and cheerful, like most people. It wasn’t until years into adulthood that I realized how easily some people shed their morals under pressure.
Ewan’s betrayal blindsided me. He’d always been a bit careless but had never treated our relationship like a joke. Yet, in the span of a single year, he’d managed to unravel everything we had.
The soup arrived quickly, but the delivery receipt bore Gia’s name and number, with only the address swapped.
The delivery man muttered irritably about unreturned calls as he handed over the bag.
I sighed, opened the package, and found a container of seafood soup, something I couldn’t stomach, and a few generic over-the-counter pills that didn’t match my symptoms.
It wasn’t hard to piece together what had happened. Ewan hadn’t ordered these. Gia had.
I ended up going to the hospital myself. By the time I’d registered, bought medication, and gotten an IV drip, night had fallen, and snowflakes were gently swirling outside.
Ewan eventually tracked me down, looking disheveled and windblown. The first thing out of his mouth, however, was a sharp reprimand.
“Didn’t I already order you soup and medicine? Why are you making such a fuss and coming here like you’re trying to get admitted?”
I stared at him, then past him, where Gia hovered by the door. The sight of her clinging to the edges of our lives, coupled with Ewan’s obliviousness, made my fatigue and disgust overflow.
“Ewan,” I said, my voice calm but resolute, “let’s get a divorce.”
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I had been married to Carlos for 20 years.
My long-absent system finally reappeared, telling me that my task was complete and I could go home.
So, I let Carlos and his son hand over the last of our ration coupons to the heroine, allowed our son to give up his university admission to her daughter, and simply smiled when the neighbor asked why I seemed so carefree.
“Because I’m going home,” I replied with a smile.
Little did I know that my departure would drive them mad.
“Dear Host, congratulations. Your ‘Villainess Supporting Role’ series mission is now complete. The portal to return to your reality will open in five days. Please prepare accordingly.”
Hearing the mechanical voice again after so long, I froze in disbelief.
It had been twenty years since I first arrived in this world.
Back in my senior year of college, while searching for a job, I had unexpectedly been transported here and bound to a system.
Like any romance novel protagonist, I’d assumed my mission was to save the male lead or woo the devoted second male lead.
But the system had told me otherwise. My task was simply to ensure the plot progressed smoothly, creating obstacles for the main characters along the way.
Once that was clear, the system had vanished, leaving me to fend for myself.
If not for its sudden reappearance, I might have forgotten about the task altogether.
“You’re daydreaming again. That water’s about to drown the vegetables.”
Emma, my neighbor, snapped me out of my trance, snatching the ladle from my hands.
Apologizing sheepishly, I crouched down to dig a channel to drain the excess water.
After finishing, I took back the ladle and resumed watering.
“You look so happy. Is it because Bruce is heading off to university? I’d be over the moon, too, if my son had that opportunity. But, alas, my boy can’t compare to yours. Smart parents, smart kids, huh?”
Emma teased as she worked, her laughter infectious.
My smile faltered slightly, and I paused for a moment before continuing.
“It’s not that. As for university… Bruce told me yesterday he’s not going.”
“What?!”
Emma gaped at me in shock.
“Bruce got into a school that most people could only dream of attending! Why on earth would he not go? Is something wrong at home? You have to talk some sense into him! If you’re struggling, just tell us. We’ll help however we can,” she said earnestly, her concern genuine.
Her kindness warmed my heart, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain the real reason.
I let out a barely audible sigh.
Seeing my silence, Emma furrowed her brow and finished the last ladle of water.
“Don’t tell me… it’s because of Molly.”
She clicked her tongue in frustration, muttering under her breath. “That Molly and her mother are nothing but trouble. The mother ruined your husband, and now the daughter’s after your son. Shameless, both of them.”
In the past, I might have joined in her tirade, venting about my frustrations. But after what the system had just revealed, my mind was elsewhere.
Apparently, I had only been meant to stay here for four years. But due to a system malfunction that extended my time, I was now being compensated with a ten-million-dollar reward and a wish upon my return.
The thought of such a windfall made my head spin with excitement. With freedom so close, how could I care about the petty dramas of Carlos and his son?
So, I politely excused myself from Emma’s complaints and went straight to the team leader to exchange my accumulated labor points for ration and cloth coupons.
Catching the last bus into town, I exchanged the coupons for fine fabric and had the shop tailor me a new dress. I even treated myself to a meal at the restaurant I’d always deemed too expensive, relishing every bite. Finally, I strolled home leisurely, carrying a few vegetables and a small piece of meat.
After all, I was leaving soon. There was no point in saving my labor points. They’d only end up benefiting Molly and her mother, Zanya.
When I first arrived in this world, Carlos was a bright, promising college student with a sharp mind and a bright future ahead of him.
When we got married, everyone said I had hit the jackpot.
What they didn’t see, however, were the early mornings I spent selling breakfast on the streets to make ends meet.
They didn’t see how Carlos’ mother tormented me daily for not being able to help him climb the social ladder.
I didn’t mind back then. After all, Carlos was good to me.
He would walk me home when he didn’t have classes, shield me from his mother’s harsh words, and massage my sore back when I woke up exhausted in the middle of the night.
I genuinely wanted to change Carlos’ fate and prevent him from ending up alone and disgraced, but I soon realized it was futile.
No matter how hard I tried, the predetermined plot couldn’t be altered.
Eventually, Carlos fell for the heroine, Zanya.
He gave up a lucrative job offer and volunteered to go to the countryside, where he stayed for 18 years.
Over those years, I transformed from a naïve, hopeful girl into a worn-out woman who could juggle farm work and housework without batting an eye.
Looking at my rough hands and bloated figure, I couldn’t help but smirk bitterly. At least this miserable chapter was finally coming to an end.
As I walked past rows of thatched cottages toward the tiny, cramped house we called home, I saw Bruce handing his university acceptance letter and my savings to Zanya’s daughter, Molly.
“Molly, you’re a girl, and you need this admission letter more than I do,” he said earnestly. “And take the money. It’s a gift from me and my dad. Life in the city is different from here, and you’ll need it. Please take it.”
Carlos, standing nearby, smiled affectionately as he encouraged Zanya and her daughter to accept. After a couple of polite refusals, Zanya finally gave in, her face glowing with gratitude.
I stood there watching the scene, amusement tugging at the corners of my mouth. Emma wasn’t wrong. Molly and Zanya were like sirens, luring these men to ruin.
Despite wanting to wash my hands of Carlos and Bruce, maternal instinct kicked in. Bruce was still my son, after all.
With a frown, I stepped forward and snatched the acceptance letter from Molly’s hands.
“Bruce, have you thought this through? Do you understand how hard it was for you to get into college? And what about the consequences if this transfer is discovered?”
“Mom!”
Bruce interrupted me impatiently.
“This is my decision, and Dad agrees with me. Why are you interfering? You’ve lived in the village long enough to know how much harder it is for girls to get into college! You’ve always taught me to be generous, but now you’re being so selfish!”
His words stung. I stared at him, my heart heavy with disappointment. How had the son I poured my heart into raising turned into this?
“She can take the exam herself if she wants to go to college so badly. Over the years, you and your father have given them ration tickets, meat coupons, and now even the money I saved for your education. Have you ever thought about how we’re supposed to survive?”
I turned my gaze toward Zanya and her daughter, frustration boiling inside me.
Thanks to Carlos’ endless generosity, Zanya and Molly lived a comfortable life.
They didn’t have to do farm work, and Carlos even gave up his job as a scorekeeper so Zanya could have it, making her the most well-off of all the educated youths sent here.
Zanya’s eyes filled with tears. She quickly handed the money back to me.
“Sherra, this is my fault. Carlos told me the money was just extra, that you didn’t need it. I didn’t think too much about it. Please don’t fight because of me. Molly will take the college exam herself, and I’ll earn the money for her tuition.”
“Carlos,” she continued, her voice trembling, “thank you for everything over the years. But to avoid any more misunderstandings with Sherra, we should keep our distance from now on.”
She turned to leave, but Carlos grabbed her hand, his face filled with urgency.
“Zanya, what are you saying? This family isn’t Sherra’s to dictate. Bruce and I don’t need all this money, but you and Molly do. And what misunderstanding? I’m married; there’s nothing for her to misinterpret.
“Come on, take the money and the acceptance letter.”
I watched helplessly as Zanya and her daughter walked away with the money and letter. My gaze shifted to Carlos and Bruce, both of whom looked completely unbothered. Disheartened, I tossed the basket I’d been carrying onto the table and turned to leave.
This place was suffocating. I needed to escape.
But before I could leave, Carlos called after me.
“Sherra Thompson, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
I froze mid-step, not because of Carlos’ harsh tone but because of the name he had just used: Sherra Thompson.
It had been so long since anyone had called me that.
Ever since we were sent to the countryside, people had only known me as “Carlos’ wife,” never by my maiden name.
“Why did you have to say that just now?” Carlos demanded, his voice thick with anger. “Zanya grew up spoiled, and being sent here was already a huge blow for her. Did you really have to twist the knife? It’s not like we’re short on money. What was the point of humiliating her like that? Are you really that cruel?”
“Exactly!” Bruce chimed in. “Mom, didn’t you see how Molly was about to cry because of you? How could you be so heartless? And besides, Molly’s going to marry me anyway. What difference does it make whose name is on that college admission? Stop making a scene.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
Of course, they thought I was heartless. They’d never earned those ration tickets or labor points themselves.
Ever since Carlos had come to the countryside, his health had been poor, leaving me to do the work of two people just to scrape together enough labor points for food to nurse him back to health.
At first, Carlos had been grateful. He’d even cried one night when he saw how rough my hands had become from farmwork, apologizing for not being able to take better care of me.
In those moments, I’d believed I’d married the right person.
But everything changed when he learned that Zanya wasn’t eating well or sleeping soundly. Suddenly, I no longer mattered.
He started giving her our limited ration tickets, leaving me to faint from low blood sugar.
He spent nights guarding her door, completely ignoring the fact that I was pregnant.
And when his health improved, he worked tirelessly to earn cloth coupons. Not for our son, but because Zanya envied someone else’s pretty clothes.
This pattern repeated itself so many times over the past eighteen years that I’d lost count. At first, I’d fought back, even threatened divorce. But every time I looked at my small, helpless son, I’d relent.
I’d told myself to endure, just for Bruce. And so I endured, year after year, until now.
The sharp pain in my arm brought me back to reality.
Carlos’ grip was like a vice, his fingers pressing so hard they turned white, which somehow matched the sickly pallor of his face when he was sick.
“Sherra, what’s wrong with you? Answer me!”
I thought I’d scream at him, as I had so many times before. Or perhaps I’d cry, demanding answers, begging for fairness.
But to my surprise, I felt none of that. Looking at Carlos and Bruce, I felt only exhaustion and disgust.
I slapped his hand away, watching him wince and let go.
The pressure in my chest eased slightly as I said, “Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.”
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##
For three years, I was nothing more than the secret lover of Lucas Stone, the most powerful and stoic CEO in Silvergate City.
And then, I got pregnant.
Lucas made it clear from the start—he didn’t like kids. Worse, he was already planning to marry a socialite from one of the wealthiest families in the city, someone “suitable” for his status.
But I wasn’t giving up my baby.
So, I packed my things, emptied my savings, and disappeared into the night.
Four years later, I was living a quiet life in a small town with my son, Leo. Life wasn’t easy, but we managed. Leo was smart, cheerful—and heartbreakingly handsome.
Too handsome, in fact.
One day, a photo of him went viral online. People couldn’t get enough of his piercing blue eyes and mischievous smile.
Seeing an opportunity, I started a livestreaming channel featuring Leo. To my surprise, our little corner of the internet blew up, and I built a career out of it.
But with popularity came scrutiny. It didn’t take long for people to figure out I was a single mom. To protect my privacy—and avoid awkward questions—I told everyone the same story:
“I’m divorced. My husband passed away.”
The narrative worked. My audience loved it. I became a symbol of independent motherhood, a beacon of strength for women everywhere.
Life was good.
Until one day, I noticed something strange.
My top supporter on the platform—a user who consistently sent generous donations—had a profile picture and location eerily familiar to me.
No. It couldn’t be.
Lucas Stone? The man who wouldn’t know what a livestream was if it hit him in the face? No way.
But before I could make sense of it, my doorbell rang.
I opened it to find Lucas standing there, towering over me, his dark eyes burning with anger.
He didn’t say a word—just pushed me against the wall, his voice low and dangerous.
“Widowed?” he growled, his lips curling in a sneer. “Funny, because I don’t remember dying.”
Before I could respond, he grabbed Leo’s shirt collar with one hand, lifting him up effortlessly.
His gaze turned even darker as he looked at me, his voice dripping with fury.
“And this?” he snarled, pointing at Leo. “Care to explain this?”
My Name is Lily Hart, and I Was the Secret Mistress of Silvergate’s Cold-Hearted CEO, Lucas Stone
For the past three years, I’ve been Lucas Stone’s hidden lover.
Our arrangement has always been simple: no strings, no complications, just business.
Until today.
Clutching my pregnancy report, I felt both nervous and excited as I walked into his company.
Lucas was still in a meeting, so his secretary asked me to wait in his office.
That’s when I noticed it—a wedding catalog sitting casually by his computer.
Lucas Stone, looking at wedding dresses?
For a brief moment, my heart soared. Could it be because of something I’d said? I had once mentioned wanting to take some bridal-style photos, just for fun.
Maybe he remembered.
Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as insignificant to him as I thought.
But my fragile hope shattered in the next instant.
Through the glass wall, I saw Lucas walking down the hallway. He wasn’t alone.
A tall, elegant woman clung to his arm, laughing softly as they walked together.
I recognized her immediately.
She was the woman I’d seen in his private photo album—the one he once called his “white moonlight.” His first love.
I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh.
Of course. Why would Lucas Stone ever care about me?
His long-lost love had returned. He was looking at wedding dresses because they were getting engaged.
I was nothing more than a convenient distraction—a woman he could discard when the real thing came back.
I grew up in a broken home. My mom passed away when I was little, and my dad remarried, starting a new family without me. I was left to live with my grandfather in a rural town.
When he suffered a stroke and became bedridden, I was the one who covered his medical bills.
By the time I got to college, I was juggling classes and part-time jobs just to pay for tuition and keep my grandfather’s treatments going.
Then, during my junior year, I heard that working as a waitress at a nightclub paid four times more than my café job.
Desperate, I applied.
That’s where I met Lucas Stone.
He was drunk that night, drowning in heartbreak from a failed relationship. I was unlucky enough to be assigned to his private room.
Before I knew it, he’d pulled me into his suite.
The next morning, I could barely stand. My legs were so weak that my manager noticed I hadn’t finished my assigned work and fired me on the spot.
I couldn’t explain what had happened. I didn’t dare.
All I could do was demand that Lucas compensate me for the job I’d lost.
To my surprise, he didn’t just agree—he offered me something else.
“A high-paying job,” he said casually. “Take care of me, and you’ll make more than enough.”
It was degrading, but I couldn’t say no.
I’d already given him my first night. What was the point of holding onto my pride now?
And Lucas Stone wasn’t exactly a bad deal. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with abs that looked like they belonged in a movie. His tanned skin and sharp jawline made him look like he’d stepped off the cover of a luxury magazine.
Sleeping with him wasn’t exactly a sacrifice.
After two seconds of hesitation, I agreed.
We signed an agreement: $30,000 a month, on the condition that I would be on call whenever he needed me.
When we finalized the deal, he looked me in the eye and said, “Don’t fall for me. I won’t take responsibility.”
He didn’t believe in love.
And I pretended I didn’t either.
For three years, I played my part perfectly. I never asked for more than what we agreed upon.
But now his first love was back. He was getting married.
Our arrangement was coming to an end.
And to make things worse, I was pregnant.
This baby couldn’t have come at a worse time.
I slipped the ultrasound report back into my bag, my heart sinking.
Just then, the office door opened.
Lucas walked in, his tailored suit sharp and immaculate, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever.
He sat down at his desk, glancing at me briefly. “What do you need?”
I hesitated. For a moment, I wanted to tell him about the pregnancy.
But what was the point?
He was about to get engaged. The moment our arrangement ended, he’d never think of me or this baby again.
And I couldn’t let that happen.
This child was all I had, my only family in the world. I couldn’t lose them.
So instead, I walked over to him with a smile and poured him a glass of water.
“I saw a jewelry set I liked,” I said casually, making up an excuse.
Lucas leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes studying me. “What kind of jewelry? Didn’t I just buy you some last month?”
“There’s a new jade and diamond necklace from Orlvis. It’s not too expensive—just a little over $20,000. I thought it might look nice on me.”
He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “I’ll have my secretary take you to buy it later.”
Feigning excitement, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Lucas.”
For a moment, his usually cold features softened. He reached out to brush his thumb across my cheek, his voice dropping an octave.
“That’s all you have for me?” he murmured, his dark eyes flicking to my lips.
A good mistress always knows how to read her benefactor.
I immediately understood what he wanted.
Smiling shyly, I climbed onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. Tilting my head, I leaned in to kiss him, my heart pounding.
Even sitting still, Lucas had an overwhelming presence. His lips were cool at first, but the kiss quickly deepened.
Before I knew it, he had taken control, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. His breath was hot against my skin, the scent of cedarwood filling the space between us.
He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me into the private lounge attached to his office.
But just as he pressed me down onto the couch, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen.
Panic jolted through me, and I instinctively pushed him away.
Lucas frowned, his frustration evident. “What’s wrong?”
“I… I got my period,” I stammered, clutching my stomach protectively.
“Isn’t it supposed to be next week?”
Lucas’s sharp gaze locked onto me, his brows slightly furrowed as though he already knew I was lying.
My heart raced, but I forced myself to stay calm and put on a strong front. “I’ve been staying up late a lot recently. My hormones are all over the place. Is that a problem?”
He leaned back slightly, his weight lifting off me as a rare note of irritation crept into his voice. “And yet you still thought it was a good idea to come and tease me?”
Lucas sat up, straightened his tie, and adjusted his suit, which had been rumpled during our earlier… struggle.
Taking the chance, I quickly got up as well, smoothing down my clothes. But I couldn’t let go of my lingering frustration, so I asked, “Lucas, do you even like kids?”
“No,” he answered bluntly, without hesitation.
Of course.
The icy finality in his tone hit me harder than I expected, and I felt my heart sink.
Then, as if sensing something, he turned to look at me. “Why are you suddenly asking?”
I forced a laugh, keeping my tone light and casual. “Oh, no reason. I just saw a little boy down in the apartment lobby earlier. He was lost, and he was so cute.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes, studying me. “You want a kid?”
“What? No way,” I replied quickly, waving my hand dismissively. “I just thought he was adorable. Honestly, if it were me, I don’t think I’d ever want to go through the trouble of having one.”
“Good,” Lucas said curtly, his tone as cold as ever. He stood, adjusted his cufflinks, and opened the door to the lounge without sparing me another glance.
I followed him out, my steps quick to match his.
As I left his office building, my resolve solidified.
I had to leave.
I checked my bank account balance: $50,000.
It wasn’t enough. Not even close.
My grandfather was still in the hospital, and I was responsible for his medical bills. Even if I left Silvergate for a while, I had to make sure he was taken care of. That $50,000 would have to go to him.
And then there was the baby.
I’d need at least a year to give birth and raise my child before I could return to see my grandfather. But right now, I didn’t have enough money to cover both my pregnancy and his medical expenses.
I needed more.
I didn’t have much time left. Sooner or later, my pregnancy would start showing, and Lucas would notice.
After a lot of thought, I decided to sell every piece of jewelry, every designer bag, and every luxury gift Lucas had ever given me.
It was the only way.
At the pawnshop, I watched as the store owner carefully inspected each item.
Finally, he came back with a total: $50,000.
I stared at him, stunned. “That’s it? These are designer pieces—some of them are limited edition! Lucas spent hundreds of thousands on these!”
The man sighed and explained patiently, “Luxury items lose value the moment they’re secondhand. They’re not like gold. This is the best I can offer.”
Disappointed, I handed over my bank details and waited for the money to transfer. As I turned to leave, a voice stopped me in my tracks.
“Well, well, Lily. Is money so tight these days?”
I froze, recognizing the voice immediately.
Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with a sophisticated middle-aged woman dressed in elegant designer clothing. Her presence radiated authority and wealth.
It was Lucas’s mother, Helen Stone.
Panic gripped me.
“No, Mrs. Stone,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Her sharp gaze and air of superiority made it impossible to meet her eyes. I instinctively took a step back, wanting to escape.
“Wait,” she said coldly. “I have something to discuss with you.”
We ended up in a nearby café.
Helen sat across from me, her expression calm yet undeniably condescending. Without a word, she slid a check across the table.
“One million dollars,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain. “Leave Lucas. He’s getting engaged soon, and I don’t need you interfering.”
For a moment, I was stunned.
Then, joy surged through me.
One million dollars. With the money I’d just made from selling my things, I’d now have $1.05 million—more than enough to take care of my baby and my grandfather for years.
I picked up the check eagerly, unable to hide the excitement in my eyes.
Helen raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by how quickly I accepted. Her look of disdain deepened. “That’s all it takes? A million dollars? I thought you’d try to ask for more.”
I didn’t care what she thought of me.
All that mattered was the check in my hand.
With this money, I could finally leave Lucas behind.
“Thank you, Mrs. Stone,” I said sincerely. “I promise I’ll honor our agreement. I won’t have anything to do with your son again.”
But before I could even finish my sentence, a familiar voice cut through the air like ice.
“Won’t have anything to do with me?”
I froze.
Slowly, I turned my head, and there he was—Lucas Stone.
He stood just a few feet away, his piercing gaze locked onto me. His face was as breathtaking as ever, but his expression was cold and unreadable.
I felt my blood run cold.
“What deal are we discussing here?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
His eyes flicked to the check in my hand, the corners of his mouth tightening.
I lowered my head quickly, avoiding his gaze. My hands trembled as I tried to hide the check, but it was too late.
Lucas’s lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes darkened as he stepped closer, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.
I didn’t dare say a word.
Helen’s voice was smug as she said, “See, Lucas? This woman is nothing but a gold digger. A million dollars, and she’d walk away without a second thought. All she cares about is our family’s money.”
Lucas let out a sharp, icy laugh, grabbing my wrist with force and dragging me toward his car.
Once inside, his cold, piercing gaze pinned me in place. “The check,” he demanded.
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I carefully handed it over.
He snatched it, and without hesitation, tore it into tiny pieces.
My heart sank as I watched the check disintegrate, every shred of paper a painful reminder of the money I so desperately needed. But I didn’t dare protest.
His eyes bore into mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. “Heartbroken, Lily? Is that it? You think I’m only worth a million dollars to you?”
My breath hitched. I had no idea who he was putting on this show of wounded pride for.
Was this the same man who, three years ago, made it explicitly clear that we were to keep things strictly transactional? The same man who told me never to fall for him?
Now he was the one acting betrayed?
And let’s not forget—he’s the one who’s getting engaged.
I didn’t answer his question. A million dollars might be nothing to him, but for someone like me, it was everything.
Despite the frustration bubbling up inside me, I knew I couldn’t afford to antagonize him. Not yet. Not when I still needed his money.
So, I lowered my tone, my voice soft and trembling. “You’re getting engaged, aren’t you?”
Tears welled up in my eyes, making me look fragile and heartbroken.
For a moment, Lucas’s cold demeanor faltered. His gaze softened, guilt flickering across his face.
After a long pause, he finally muttered, “Maybe.”
Maybe? What a joke. He was clearly getting engaged, yet he had the audacity to look at me like this—as if he were some tragic hero torn between duty and desire.
Still, I played my part. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as I whispered, “We’ve been together for three years. I never thought I’d feel this much for you, but… I respect your decision. I just hope you’ll be happy.”
Now it was my turn to take the moral high ground.
Lucas’s guilt deepened, and his grip on my hand tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
I knew I had him.
He sighed, his voice low and heavy with remorse. “I know it was my mother who forced you to leave. I’ll transfer the million dollars to your account myself. If anyone should compensate you, it should be me.”
Bingo.
Relief flooded through me. The million dollars was still within reach, and I could finally breathe again.
For a while, neither of us spoke. Then, Lucas lifted his head, his expression conflicted, his voice hesitant.
“We… we’ll end things next month.”
Next month? Seriously? What, is he scheduling a breakup like it’s a business meeting?
I was furious, but now wasn’t the time to show it. The money hadn’t hit my account yet, and I couldn’t risk blowing everything now.
So, instead, I leaned into his chest, pretending to be the perfect, heartbroken girlfriend.
“Although it hurts,” I said softly, “I’ll do what you say. I’ll listen to you.”
Lucas seemed even more guilt-ridden at my response.
He cupped my face gently, his voice warm and tender. “I’m sorry, Lily. I really am.”
For the Next Few Days
I had to pretend as if nothing had happened, going about my days catering to Lucas’s every need like usual.
Today was his birthday.
Lucas is picky—a man with a taste for exclusivity. He only eats custom cakes from Crown Heights Bakery, a private, high-end patisserie.
A while back, I wanted to surprise him. So, I enrolled in a private baking class with one of their top pastry chefs, just so I could make him a cake myself.
This morning, I went to the bakery bright and early, determined to make him a cake he’d remember.
But fate had other plans.
As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I ran into her.
Chloe Young. Lucas’s ture love.
I froze, instinctively wanting to avoid her.
But to my surprise, she recognized me immediately.
“Lily, isn’t it?”
There was no point in hiding now. She was a born-and-bred socialite, with access to every whisper and secret in the city. Of course, she’d know who I was.
“I didn’t expect Miss Young to know me,” I replied casually, keeping my tone polite. I grabbed the baking tools and ingredients, pretending to be completely unfazed by her presence.
“Are you making a cake for Lucas?” Her tone was clipped, as though offended by my indifference.
“Hm,” I hummed nonchalantly, keeping my focus on the task at hand.
“Well,” she scoffed, “I’ve already ordered his birthday cake. There’s no need for you to bother. It’ll just go to waste—no one’s going to eat what you make anyway.”
Her words stung, but I wasn’t about to let her see it.
I shot her a sharp glance and replied with a sweet, mocking smile, “Oh, don’t worry. Lucas can have your cake during the day, and mine at night. After all, he spends every night at my place. I’d say our relationship is far more… intimate than yours.”
Her face flushed with anger, her composure slipping. “How vulgar!”
“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” I shrugged, turning back to my work.
Seething, Chloe stormed out of the kitchen, her heels clicking furiously against the tiled floor.
For the past three years, I’ve been the one celebrating Lucas’s birthdays with him. But now that Chloe’s back in the picture, I guess I’m no longer needed.
That’s fine. If he doesn’t want the cake, I’ll eat it myself. I’ve been craving cake anyway.
Making the cake wasn’t easy. My frosting skills were terrible, and it took me over ten tries to get it right.
But I enjoyed the process. The chef was patient, walking me through each mistake until I finally produced something presentable.
By the time I finished and brought the cake home, it was already afternoon.
Exhausted from the morning’s effort—and from my pregnancy—I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep almost instantly.
When I woke up, the sky outside was already dark.
A strange sense of loneliness crept over me as I lay there in the empty house. The silence was suffocating, and a wave of sadness washed over me.
Lucas hadn’t come home.
Of course, he hadn’t. Chloe was the one who mattered to him. He was probably with her now, blowing out candles and celebrating his birthday.
I closed my eyes, trying to force myself back to sleep.
But then, the mattress shifted beside me.
The faint scent of cedarwood filled the air, familiar and comforting.
I opened my eyes to find Lucas sitting next to me, his dark eyes warm with amusement. His voice was soft, almost teasing.
“Awake now? Were you not planning to celebrate my birthday with me?”
I stared up at him, my emotions suddenly overwhelming me. Tears welled up as I felt a lump in my throat.
“You’re back so late,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “I left work at four-thirty and came straight home. I’ve been waiting for you—for hours.”
I blinked, confused. “I thought… I thought you wouldn’t come back.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, his tone light. “Didn’t you say you had a surprise for me? Don’t tell me you forgot.”
I quickly wiped my tears and sat up. “Oh! I didn’t forget!”
Hurrying to the kitchen, I retrieved the cake from the fridge and carried it out to him.
“Ta-da!” I said, presenting it with a big grin. “This is your surprise! I made it myself. Is it a good one?”
Lucas smiled, a rare, genuine expression. “You put a lot of effort into this,” he said, his voice soft.
“Of course I did! So… what’s my reward?” I teased, batting my eyelashes.
He chuckled and pulled me close, his voice low and indulgent. “I’ll have my secretary transfer a million dollars to your account—and throw in the deed to this house.”
I froze for a moment, stunned by the unexpected generosity.
My heart raced, but I quickly composed myself, putting on a show of reluctance. “Lucas, I don’t care about money or property.”
He cupped my face gently, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But I care. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.”
We ate the cake together on the couch, watching a show.
Lucas usually only eats a single slice, but tonight he had several.
I rested my head on his lap, gazing up at his sharp jawline. He wasn’t a good man—not by any stretch.
But God, he was beautiful.
I placed a hand on my stomach, thinking about the baby. If they inherited even half of Lucas’s looks, they’d grow up to be stunning.
Then a thought occurred to me. Lucas had said he came straight home after work. Did that mean he hadn’t celebrated with Chloe?
Was it possible that, deep down, I still meant something to him?
Unable to stop myself, I called his name softly.
He didn’t look away from the screen, but his voice was warm. “Yeah?”
“If I… if I were pregnant, would you want the baby?”
That got his attention. His head snapped down, and his hand instinctively rested on my stomach. His gaze was serious, searching.
“Are you pregnant?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.
I hesitated, my heart pounding. “No… I mean, what if I were?”
Lucas thought for a moment, his hand still on my stomach. “I don’t like kids. Never have. But if there was a baby…”
I held my breath, waiting for him to finish.
But before he could, his phone rang.
The ringtone was familiar, and so was the name on the screen. Chloe.
Lucas hesitated, then answered the call.
I couldn’t make out her words, but her voice was soft and sweet. Lucas’s tone, however, remained neutral, and the call ended quickly.
When he hung up, he turned to me. “I have to go back to the estate. Don’t wait up—get some rest.”
I nodded quietly, watching him leave.
The door clicked shut, and the emptiness of the house returned.
I knew where he was going.
Back to Chloe.
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I was drowning in the icy river, struggling desperately for my last breath. No one came to save me. As I felt my soul leaving my body, a surge of hatred consumed me.
Jack Wilson, the man I had loved so deeply, had been cheating on me for years. The daughter I had cherished as my own was actually the love child of Jack and his dream girl, Chloe Parker. Chloe’s mocking laughter echoed in my ears as I died.
My vision turned blood-red, reminiscent of the pool of blood left by my real daughter when she passed away. If I could start over, I would have my revenge – for myself and for my daughter!
Suddenly, I heard the faint cry of a baby…
I forced my heavy eyelids open. A white ceiling and the smell of disinfectant greeted me. Was I in a hospital? Hadn’t I just drowned in the river?
I slowly looked around, taking in the somewhat dated decor that seemed oddly familiar. A sharp pain in my abdomen made me cry out involuntarily.
“Sweetheart, you’re finally awake! You scared Mommy to death!”
Mommy? I focused my gaze and saw my mother, but a much younger version of her.
So… had I been reborn?
Ignoring the pain, I sat up abruptly. “Mom, where’s my daughter?”
In my previous life, Jack had taken advantage of my postpartum weakness to switch my baby. I wouldn’t let their evil plan succeed this time.
My mom gently wiped the sweat from my forehead. I gripped her arm tightly. “Mom, please tell me, where did the baby go?”
Unaware of my unusual behavior, my mom tried to reassure me, “Don’t worry, darling. The nurse took the baby for a routine check-up. They’ll bring her back soon.”
“Just lie down now. You shouldn’t move around too much after giving birth.”
I stared into my mom’s eyes. “Where’s Jack?”
Mom smiled, “Oh, he’s such a doting father already. The nurse was just taking the baby for a routine check-up, but he insisted on going along.”
What? My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. I couldn’t breathe!
No! Absolutely not! I won’t let Jack succeed this time.
Despite my discomfort, I jumped out of bed and ran towards the door barefoot. My mom tried to stop me, but I dodged her and rushed to the door, only to collide with someone entering.
It was Jack! He was tightly cradling the baby, glaring at me disapprovingly.
Seeing how protective he was of this little bastard, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Reborn into a new life, and he had still succeeded.
A wave of fury surged through me. If my anger could materialize, Jack would have been incinerated on the spot!
“Honey, the floor is cold. Get back to bed quickly!” Jack switched to a facade of concern for me.
He thought he was hiding it well, but I could still see the malice and impatience hidden in his eyes.
My mom caught up and pulled me back to bed. As soon as I was back in bed, Jack placed the little bastard next to my hand.
“Honey, the baby is hungry,” he said. Right on cue, the little bastard started crying.
I stared coldly at her. This was the child of that despicable woman, who had stolen my real daughter’s life. She had taken all my love and resources, and in the end, even pushed me into the river.
All the scum in the world combined couldn’t match this little bastard. I slowly placed my hand on the little bastard’s neck. I wanted nothing more than to strangle her right then and there.
Jack stood there smiling, lost in his own thoughts, not noticing my actions.
But it scared my mom, who was watching me closely.
“Sweetheart, that’s not how you hold a baby. You need to support the neck from behind.”
“Honey, she’s crying because she’s hungry,” Jack said with a smile, picking up the little bastard and trying to place her in my arms.
I turned away, lying on my side. “If she’s hungry, she can have formula. I’m tired and need to rest.”
I closed my eyes, but all I could see was the blood that had stained the ground when my daughter died.
I wouldn’t let any of these bastards off the hook. I had to plan this carefully.
Jack had married into my family and was currently working a menial job in my father’s company. Perhaps due to my financial influence, he had perfected the image of an ideal husband in everyone’s eyes.
In my previous life, everyone, including myself, thought I had found the best husband in the world. It wasn’t until just before I died that I realized the truth.
He called it “enduring humiliation to achieve his goal.” He had been acting all along for a beautiful future with his dream girl.
His dream girl, Chloe, had deliberately chosen to get pregnant at the same time as me and had a C-section early to switch our babies.
Because she was born prematurely, this little bastard was small and weak. In my previous life, I had gone to great lengths to nurse her back to health.
She certainly grew strong enough to push me into the cold river with one hand.
Jack was the husband my father had carefully chosen for me. He said he didn’t want me to work too hard and needed someone to help carry the banner of our family business. He had picked Jack from among the scholarship students he sponsored.
Dad said Jack was handsome, well-behaved, hardworking, and had great potential. Mom, however, insisted that for a high-status family like ours, I should marry someone of equal standing.
But I was attracted by Jack’s facade and agreed, even persuading my mom. That’s how the marriage went ahead smoothly.
Now I realize how blind and foolish I was. I hadn’t seen the ugly face behind Jack’s human mask.
It’s impossible to know exactly when Jack and Chloe started their affair. But since Chloe’s due date was later than mine, he must have been cheating at least since I was pregnant.
Due to my physical condition, I had focused all my attention on the baby since becoming pregnant. I had gradually handed over the family business responsibilities I used to handle to Jack.
This time, Jack won’t get his hands on a single penny of my family’s wealth.
After my condition stabilized, I moved into the pre-booked luxury postpartum care center.
When we got married, the background check on Jack had failed miserably. We hadn’t discovered that he had a dream girl he couldn’t forget.
I contacted Uncle Mike, the head of security at our company, and asked him to conduct a detailed investigation into Jack’s background.
The fact that Jack had managed to deceive professional investigators before meant he must have planned this for a long time.
He had claimed his background was simple – his parents were dead, and he wasn’t in touch with any relatives or friends.
My parents and I had felt sorry for his circumstances and tried our best to be good to him, wanting him to feel the warmth of family.
Even I had tried to curb my spoiled rich girl attitude, afraid of hurting his fragile glass heart.
Looking back now, I was truly a complete fool.
This beast who could throw his own daughter into a beggar’s den deserved to have his family ruined and be left all alone.
The company was very busy, and most of the time it was just me and the little bastard alone together.
Looking at this inherently evil, ungrateful little wolf cub, I had to grip my right hand tightly with my left to resist the urge to strangle her.
My precious baby was suffering somewhere unknown, while this little monster was lying in the most luxurious postpartum care center.
Perhaps my gaze was too cold, because the little bastard started crying.
With two soft sounds, the little brat had soiled herself.
In my previous life, I had forced myself to overcome my germaphobia and changed her diapers countless times, wiping her bottom.
This time, dream on. Even if her diaper rash spread to her face, what did it have to do with me?
I had already refused to breastfeed. Despite Jack’s efforts to control himself, I could still see the ferocity in his eyes. Heh, he must be thinking about how to settle accounts with me in the future.
Unfortunately for him, this time, I’ll be the one settling accounts.
As a man who married into my family without a penny to his name, he’d be lucky to eat warm shit without me.
Even if he’s not happy about it, he can only swallow his pride.
My parents thoughtfully sent over imported high-end formula, but I rejected it outright. Chinese people have Chinese stomachs; a hundred-dollar can would do just fine.
Even the staff at the postpartum care center seemed to disapprove of me.
They said that despite my vast wealth, I was being so harsh on a small infant. They even speculated whether I had an extreme preference for boys over girls.
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The day my husband and I were supposed to finalize our divorce was also the day his first love returned to the country.
On my way to the courthouse, I was in a car accident.
As the paramedics rushed me to the hospital, I clung to my phone, hoping—praying—that he would call.
When his name finally flashed on the screen, I answered with trembling hands.
His voice came through, sharp and cold, the first words out of his mouth a scathing accusation:
“Annie, what game are you playing now? You’re late.”
“Miss, are you heading to the courthouse to get married?”
The cab driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, grinning as he tried to make small talk.
I smiled faintly back at him. “No, I’m going there to get divorced.”
The smile froze on his face, and for a moment, he looked genuinely awkward.
“Oh… uh… I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to assume,” he stammered.
“It’s fine,” I said gently. “Most people wouldn’t think of divorce as their first guess. It’s not your fault.”
He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. The atmosphere in the car grew a little tense.
After a few beats of silence, he spoke again, his voice hesitant. “If you don’t mind me asking… what happened? Why are you getting divorced?”
His question caught me off guard.
Realizing how intrusive it might’ve sounded, he quickly added, “I just mean… you’re young, beautiful. Any man would be lucky to have you. Why would anyone let it get to this point?”
There was genuine curiosity in his tone, even a hint of pity.
I let out a soft “oh” and decided there was no harm in telling the truth.
“He’s still in love with someone else,” I said lightly. “His first love. She’s back in the country, and now that she’s here, there’s no room for me anymore.”
I tried to sound unaffected, brushing it off as something trivial. But the driver fell silent, clearly unsure how to respond.
He didn’t ask anything else after that, and I turned my attention to the window, letting the conversation die.
A few years ago, his first love, Summer, had left the country. She’d married a wealthy man overseas, and the news had devastated Ethan.
He had spiraled, a shell of himself, drowning in his heartbreak.
That was when I saw my chance.
I’d loved Ethan for as long as he’d loved Summer, and when she disappeared from his life, I swooped in. I was there for him when he was at his lowest, and eventually, I became the one he leaned on.
It worked.
Ethan and I started dating, and over time, we got engaged and then married.
For a few years, Summer’s name stopped haunting our lives. Things were never passionate between us, but we coexisted peacefully, and I thought that might be enough.
It wasn’t perfect, but at least it was something.
I thought we’d continue living that way indefinitely—quietly, without excitement, but also without turmoil.
Then, a few weeks ago, everything changed.
Summer got divorced and announced she was moving back to the country.
The moment Ethan found out, it was like a switch flipped inside him. He became a man possessed. If it hadn’t been for his work commitments, I knew he would’ve been on the first flight out to see her.
I watched in stunned silence as he transformed before my eyes.
The man who had always been so composed and distant suddenly had the wide-eyed excitement of a teenager. He had no hesitation, no shame. Right in front of me, he picked up his phone and called her.
I sat there as he asked her one question after another, his voice trembling with excitement.
They made plans to meet the moment she returned.
When he hung up, he turned to me, his eyes bright with an almost childlike glee.
“Annie,” he said, “Summer’s coming back. Let’s get divorced.”
He was so eager, so casual, as though I weren’t his wife, as though I were just some placeholder to keep him company while she was gone.
Now that the woman he truly loved had returned, I was nothing more than an obstacle.
I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. For the first time in years, I lost my temper.
We fought.
In all our time together, we’d never raised our voices at each other. But that day, I screamed, cried, and begged.
By the end of it, Ethan was ice-cold. He didn’t look at me as he snapped, “Thursday. Courthouse. Don’t be late.”
Then he slammed the door behind him, leaving me alone with the pieces of my broken heart.
That night, I cried until I couldn’t breathe.
When the tears finally stopped, regret set in.
I called him over and over, desperate to take it all back, to apologize, to ask him to stay.
But he didn’t answer.
When I tried again the next day, I realized he had blocked me.
For days, I didn’t see him. Not at home. Not anywhere.
Finally, Thursday came.
I hesitated for hours, debating whether or not to go.
I didn’t want to divorce him. I wanted one more chance to talk to him, to convince him to stay.
But the courthouse was the only place I could be sure to find him.
I had no other choice.
As I sat in the back of the cab, my thoughts started spiraling, unraveling the calm façade I’d tried so hard to maintain while chatting with the driver.
Why?
Why had I been the one standing by Ethan all these years, and yet he still couldn’t forget Summer?
My fists clenched involuntarily. The sharp sting of my nails digging into my palms was the only thing anchoring me to reality, holding together the fragile pieces of my composure.
And then it happened.
A truck, out of control and going the wrong way, barreled onto the road. It came out of nowhere, veering straight toward us.
The driver saw it too late. There was no time to react.
The collision was instant and deafening.
In that split second, it felt like the world dissolved into nothingness.
The noise around me faded into a distant hum, like static on a broken radio. My body felt weightless, as if it were floating in the air. Even pain seemed to disappear, leaving only an eerie, hollow silence.
I didn’t know how much time passed before sensation returned, but when it did, it came back all at once.
The pain hit me like a tidal wave, sharp and unrelenting, driving me to the brink of unconsciousness. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire.
I barely registered the people around me, their voices muffled as they worked to pull me from the wreckage. They lifted me carefully and placed me on the waiting stretcher.
The ambulance doors slammed shut, and as we sped toward the hospital, a faint vibration in my pocket broke through the haze of pain.
My phone.
It was still intact, somehow, miraculously surviving the crash. And now, it was ringing.
I didn’t need to look to know who it was.
Ethan.
Even though I couldn’t move, I just knew.
“Please,” I croaked, my voice barely audible. I turned my head toward the nurse, desperation thick in my tone. “Please, answer it for me. Please.”
Something in my plea must have moved her, because after a moment of hesitation, she picked up the phone and held it to my ear.
I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to tell him I was hurt, that I needed him, that I missed him so much I could barely breathe.
But before I could say anything—before I could even whisper a single word—his voice came through, cold and biting.
“Annie,” he snapped, his tone laced with irritation, “what stupid stunt are you pulling now? You’re late.”
3
Tears streamed down my face, hot and uncontrollable.
The pain from the crash was unbearable, but it was nothing compared to the ache his words left behind.
What was I to him, really?
His partner?
A convenient distraction for his loneliness?
No, I was less than that. I was air.
Invisible, unnoticed, but always there. In the years when Summer was gone, he’d needed me—not because he cared, but because I was just there, filling the empty spaces she left behind.
Now that Summer was back, I had become carbon dioxide. Something he couldn’t wait to exhale, discard, and forget.
I forced out a bitter, hollow laugh, though it felt more like a gasp.
“Hang up,” I said, my voice raw and cracked.
The nurse looked at me, her face a mixture of pity and hesitation, but I nodded weakly. She ended the call.
I had come to the courthouse not to finalize our divorce but to see him one last time.
I wanted to beg him to stay, to give us another chance.
But his cold indifference had shattered the fragile dream I’d been clinging to.
The truth, raw and brutal, stared me in the face.
Ethan did not love me.
He never had.
Reality hit me like a freight train. My dream of a life with him—of being his wife, of mattering to him—was nothing more than a cruel illusion.
I felt the nurse’s sympathetic gaze on me, but I didn’t care. I broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably in the back of the ambulance.
The people around me whispered, their voices hushed.
“Poor girl,” one of them said. “She must be in so much pain. That crash was brutal.”
I wanted to laugh at the irony, but the sound wouldn’t come.
The tears fell harder instead.
Yes, I was in pain.
But it wasn’t the crash that was killing me.
No, this was a pain that went deeper than broken bones and torn skin.
It was the pain of a thousand dull knives carving through my chest, ripping apart everything I thought I knew about love.
Every blade stripped away another piece of my dignity, my pride, my self-worth.
And yet, in its cruel, merciless way, the pain also woke me up.
It forced me to see the truth I had been too blind to face.
Ethan never loved me.
And now, I needed to stop loving him.
For the first time in years, I felt something stir deep inside me—a spark of clarity, of resolve.
I would crawl out of this endless cycle of heartbreak.
I would let him go.
I would find myself again.
The accident was brutal, but I was lucky—just a broken left leg.
When the truck tipped over and came crashing toward me, I thought I was going to die.
But somehow, fate decided to spare me.
As I lay in the hospital, Ethan texted me.
“Why are you standing me up? You’ve ruined my chance to show up with the divorce papers and finally see Summer without guilt.”
I stared at his cold, emotionless words, and surprisingly, I smiled.
Once I’d made the decision to let go, these words, which would’ve shattered me before, now felt like nothing more than a breeze in passing.
I looked at his name pinned at the top of my messaging app. The chat history was pristine—completely empty. He had never initiated a conversation with me, not even once. And I, well, I had learned to be “considerate.” I didn’t bother him with texts, only calling when absolutely necessary.
Even then, I used to feel a strange satisfaction just seeing his name at the top of my screen whenever I opened the app.
But now, things were different.
Scrolling through my feed, I saw his most recent post: a nine-photo collage of a candlelit dinner. Two hands intertwined under the warm glow of the candles, their matching couple rings sparkling as though they were stars themselves.
It was the kind of romance I’d never had with him.
Once, I had suggested buying wedding rings for us. He had frowned and flatly refused, saying he wasn’t comfortable wearing “extraneous things.”
Yet here he was, proudly wearing a couple’s ring.
But I had no right to question him. No right to ask why.
I glanced at the divorce papers sitting on the bedside table. Without hesitation, I signed them, sealed them in an envelope, and mailed them to Ethan.
The nurse knocked softly on my door.
“Miss Lane, your discharge papers are ready.”
“Thank you,” I said.
I had spent two weeks in the hospital. During that time, Ethan hadn’t called, hadn’t visited, hadn’t even asked where I was.
I should’ve felt devastated, but instead, I felt a strange sense of relief.
I packed my things and glanced at my phone one last time, still open to our empty chat. I didn’t hesitate this time.
I blocked him.
Before I hit “confirm,” I typed one final message: “Ethan, goodbye forever.”
Life without Ethan felt… quiet.
Without him, time slowed down.
He left me the house, the car, and even our joint savings—as if he wanted to make a clean break. I didn’t feel sorry for him; he still had his company, his success, and most of all, her.
With Summer back in his life, why would he care about material things?
Recovering from a broken leg gave me plenty of time to reflect. For years, my entire world had revolved around Ethan. Even my career was built around supporting his. I had been so consumed by him that I forgot I was once an ambitious, top-tier graduate with dreams of my own.
As my leg healed, I began sending out résumés, determined to start over.
By the time fall rolled around, I was ready to move forward.
One crisp autumn afternoon, as I lounged in my rocking chair by the window enjoying the golden sunlight, I received an email.
It was an invitation from Simon Crane.
Simon Crane—Ethan’s biggest business rival.
Over the years, I’d crossed paths with Simon countless times while working alongside Ethan. He was sharp, disciplined, and utterly relentless—a man who seemed more like a machine than a person.
I couldn’t imagine him wasting time mocking me, but still, I hesitated.
After three minutes of deliberation, I replied, accepting his offer.
When Simon arrived to pick me up, his reaction to my slight limp was immediate. His sharp eyes widened in surprise.
“It’s been a few months, Annie, and now you’re… disabled?”
“Just some lingering effects of a broken leg,” I said casually, brushing it off with a smile. “Shouldn’t you be doubling my salary now that I qualify as a disabled hire?”
He smirked. “You’ve got a good attitude.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied smoothly.
“It was.” His gaze caught the autumn sunlight, his dark eyes glinting like polished obsidian.
I studied him for a moment. The sharp features, broad shoulders, and tapered waist—he was the very definition of unfairly attractive. It was no wonder women fell for him in droves.
“Now I see why so many women practically throw themselves at you,” I teased with a grin.
Simon raised a brow as he helped me up the steps. “And yet, you’re not one of them?”
I chuckled, accepting his assistance. My leg still gave me trouble, and climbing stairs was a challenge.
“Let’s be honest, Simon. How many times have we gone head-to-head over business deals? I’ve spent years wanting to tear you apart.”
He laughed—a rare, genuine sound. “Fair enough.”
When we reached the top, I turned to face him, my expression serious.
“Why did you send me that invitation?” I asked. “Be honest.”
He didn’t look like he was here to gloat or mock me. But still, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that he had ulterior motives. Did he know about my divorce? Was he planning to use me to get under Ethan’s skin?
To my surprise, Simon’s answer was simple and sincere.
“Annie, you’re a talented woman,” he said, his tone steady. “I respect your abilities. That’s why I invited you.”
His words caught me off guard.
Before I married Ethan, I had dreamed of building something of my own—a business, a legacy. But those dreams had been buried the moment I saw an opportunity to win Ethan’s love.
I had thrown myself into his world, willingly becoming the woman behind the man, sacrificing my ambitions for his.
Now, standing in front of Simon, I felt something stir deep inside me.
It was time to stop living for someone else.
It was time to stand on my own again.
“Alright,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Let’s get to work.”
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The chauffeur’s son went all out, sparing no expense, to throw an extravagant birthday party for his little girlfriend.
When it came time to pay, surprise! His credit card was frozen.
Fuming, he called me in a fit of rage:
“Lila Grant, what gives you the right to freeze my credit card? Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to not be able to pay here?!”
I chuckled coldly and reminded him, “Have you been drinking too much expired milk formula? That card you’re holding happens to be mine. If I freeze my own credit card, how’s that any of your business?”
Please. I’m not like the original lovestruck fool I replaced.
Why would I, a rich heiress, stoop to chasing after the chauffeur’s son?
I woke up in the world of a cliché romance novel.
The original heroine, Lila Grant, was the only daughter of the prestigious Grant family in the fictional city of Avalon. She was raised like a princess, showered with love and attention from all directions.
This kind of girl had probably never faced rejection in her life, which is why, when the chauffeur’s son, Austin Chase, turned her down after she invited him to hang out, her obsession kicked in.
This guy dares to reject me? He’s so different from everyone else. I love it!
And so, from that day forward, Lila became Austin’s shadow.
At first, maybe she just wanted to conquer him, to see him fall for her like every other boy at school.
But clearly, Austin wasn’t buying it.
No matter how much she bribed, threatened, or pleaded, his attitude toward her remained stone cold.
Eventually, her feelings morphed into full-blown desperation. She started doing everything she could to win his favor.
Her dad bought her a brand-new phone? She gave it to Austin and kept using his old hand-me-down.
Her mom bought her a gorgeous new necklace? Austin took it and gifted it to his crush, Mia, for her birthday.
Even her monthly allowance—$10,000—was mostly spent on Austin.
Everyone at school knew how far Lila was willing to go for Austin. No matter how outrageous his demands, as long as he frowned slightly, she’d immediately lower her head and apologize.
Rumors started circulating that Lila wasn’t actually the Grant family’s daughter, but the housekeeper’s kid. Supposedly, the only reason she could attend the elite Westbridge Academy was because Austin’s family sponsored her.
Honestly, the original Lila was an absolute fool.
Just earlier today, the poor girl heard that Austin confessed his love to Mia at her birthday party. She got so worked up that she literally died of anger.
Seriously? What kind of spell did Austin cast on her to make a rich heiress lose her mind like this?
But now, I’m the one lying on this luxurious, king-sized bed, staring at the absurd balance in my bank account, unable to stop the grin spreading across my face.
Being a rich heiress is awesome.
Forget Austin Chase or whatever-his-name-is. I’m done.
I hung up on Austin and immediately blocked his number.
Just as I was enjoying my victory, another call came in.
A girl’s tearful voice greeted me:
“Lila, I know you like Austin, but he loves me! How could you freeze his credit card just because he doesn’t like you?”
“Now the whole class is stuck at the hotel because the bill hasn’t been paid! Stop being so petty and unfreeze his card already!”
“And you blocked his number too! Do you know how furious he is? If I hadn’t calmed him down, he’d have ended your friendship by now!”
I replied coolly, “Good. Let’s end it then. I don’t care.”
“Oh, by the way, did Austin not tell you? That card he’s using is mine. I froze my card. How is that any of your business?”
“If he wanted to throw you a party, why didn’t he use his own money? Isn’t he supposed to be some big shot? Can’t even afford a birthday bash? What a joke.”
The phone was snatched away from the girl, and Austin’s angry voice roared on the other end:
“Lila Grant, stop playing these stupid games to get my attention! I’m warning you—unfreeze the card in the next minute, or you’ll regret it!”
Wow. He really thought he was the main character, didn’t he?
Too bad. Austin was just the chauffeur’s kid.
Before I even had the chance to respond, he hung up on me.
Great. Saved me the effort of wasting my breath.
I calmly blocked the number, got up, and started putting on makeup. I chose an outfit from my walk-in closet, where the selection was bigger than the living room in my old house.
Man, being rich is incredible. Designer makeup lined the vanity, and the closet was filled with the latest high-end fashion and handbags.
If it weren’t for the fact that I was starving, I’d have stayed there all day trying on clothes!
Austin’s dad, John Chase, is my personal driver.
In reality, he was originally my dad’s driver, but because the previous owner had a thing for Austin, he insisted on having John drive him around, and, of course, Austin ended up getting a ride too.
Funny enough, even though John was technically my driver, he always insisted on waiting for Austin to show up before leaving.
There were several times when I was stuck at school after bombing an exam, and John would pick up Austin and leave without me. I’d end up having to take the bus back home.
This happened because when I asked John to come back for me, Austin would scold him:
“It’s your fault for not studying properly and failing the exam, why should my dad have to run another errand for you? Can’t you just take the bus back like everyone else?”
I opened the back door and slid into the car, just as I heard John on the phone.
“I got it, I got it, I’ll ask him.”
He hung up and turned to look at me, with a hint of reproach in his eyes.
“Lila, did you have a fight with Austin? Why did you freeze his credit card? He’s stuck at the hotel, embarrassed in front of the whole class. Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
“Mr. Chase, I call you Mr. Chase out of respect, but you need to know your place. You’re just my driver. Lila is what my parents call me, not what you should be calling me.”
“And just so you understand, the credit card your son is holding is mine. I froze MY credit card. What does that have to do with you guys?”
John stared at me, his face going through a range of expressions, almost like a painter’s palette.
He opened his mouth but didn’t say anything.
I gave him an address, closed my eyes, and pretended to nap.
But when the car stopped, I realized that John had driven us straight to the hotel where Austin was throwing a birthday party for Mia.
“Lila, I know you’re upset about Austin being with Mia, but we can’t force feelings, right?”
“This hotel was your booking for Austin. You paid for it, and now you’re trying to skip out on the bill. Do you really think that’s the right thing to do?”
“Now the whole class is stuck at the hotel because of your actions. Stop throwing a tantrum and just pay the bill.”
I stared at John for a moment, then nodded.
“Fine, but you have to come with me.”
John hesitated, wanting to refuse, but when he saw the look in my eyes, he reluctantly agreed.
We walked in, me first, and before we even reached the private room, I could hear the noise and complaints inside.
“Lila Grant must’ve lost her mind today—she actually blocked Austin’s number.”
“Yeah, Mia tried to call her and she blocked her too. Is it because Austin and Mia are together? Is that too much for her to handle?”
“Don’t worry. This happened before, remember? She only lasted an hour before she gave in and apologized to Austin. I bet she’ll last an hour today too.”
I pushed the door open, and all eyes turned toward me.
I could hear the same two voices laughing as they spoke again:
“See, I told you she wouldn’t last. Now she’s rushing to apologize to Austin!”
Austin looked at me with a mix of disgust, his smile vanishing in an instant.
“Lila Grant, so you decided to show up after all!”
He gave me a once-over, then sneered. “It’s Mia’ birthday, and you came empty-handed? Where’s your gift?”
When I didn’t answer, he went on, “Fine, no gift? Just send me 100k, and I’ll pick out a bag for Mia. That’ll be your present to her.”
I laughed and walked up to him, meeting his gaze directly.
“How strange, Mr. Chase. Where would the daughter of a maid like me get 100k to buy Mia a bag?”3
His face shifted, and he stammered, “But, but wasn’t that the salary I gave you?”
I raised an eyebrow, about to say something when Mia interrupted.
“Forget it, forget it, no gift, no problem. Lila Grant, just pay the bill already, we’re heading out to karaoke!”
I blinked in surprise. “What? Why do I have to pay the bill? I’m just the daughter of a maid. Where do you think I’m getting the money to pay for all of you?” I purposely said it loud enough for everyone to hear.
“It’s not your money, it’s the money Austin left with you,” someone piped up.
“You’re letting your pocket money be managed by your maid’s daughter?” I shot back, dripping sarcasm.
The person fell silent.
Austin pulled me to the side, lowering his voice:
“Lila Grant, what are you trying to do? Why is it so difficult for you to just pay the bill?”
I raised an eyebrow, looking at him. “I’m not doing anything, I just suddenly realized I don’t want to be your doormat anymore.”
I turned and looked directly at John Chase, who had been trailing behind me.
“Mr. Chase, your son’s too broke to pay for his girlfriend’s birthday dinner, seems like you—his dad—should pick up the tab, right?”
The moment Austin and John locked eyes, their expressions were… odd.
Of course, the rest of the class looked even more bewildered.
“Austin is the heir to the Chase family, right? Why is his dad dressed so… plain?”
“That suit doesn’t fit, and it’s all wrinkled. Definitely not custom-made.”
“No way… this is Austin’s dad? He doesn’t look like a rich guy at all. What’s going on?”
The whispers buzzed, and Austin’s face was all shades of green and white.
I took the opportunity to deliver the final blow, “This is our driver, Mr. Chase. Austin is his son.”
“Mr. Chase, if you’re short on cash, I can call my uncle and ask for a discount.”
“Oh, and by the way, you’re fired. As of today, you’re no longer working for my family.”
With that, I waved my hand casually and turned, strutting away.
This is too funny—thought they could make me the sucker to foot the bill? Not a chance!
With that money, I could donate it to kids in the mountains—what’s better than earning some good karma?4
The next day when I went to school, I opened the car door to get in, but before I could even sit down, Austin tried to climb in right behind me.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I grabbed the door and stopped him.
“Move, we’re going to be late,” he said, shoving me aside before climbing into the car and sitting next to me.
He then turned to the driver and said, “Dad, like usual, stop by to pick up Mia first, then take us to school.”
The driver turned around, confused, and looked at Austin.
John Chase had been fired yesterday. To make sure he didn’t think I was all talk, I’d called my dad to tell him about it.
My dad said that his other driver, Mr. Harris, was available and would be picking me up and dropping me off from now on.
“Austin Chase, have you lost your memory? I fired your dad yesterday.”
“You—get out! Now!” I kicked him hard, sending him tumbling out of the car.
🌟 Continue the story here
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