Category: English

To help Adeline rise to fame, my wife drugged me and handed me over to be a subject in her human research experiment. In my previous life, I pleaded with my wife to spare me, but she looked at me with disdain and said, “Can’t you stop being so selfish? Can’t you bear to see others succeed?” Ultimately, I was tortured to death by her beloved Adeline. As I lay dying, covered in blood, she was cozy in Adeline’s arms. But fate took pity on me, granting me a second chance at life. This time, I vow to make that deceitful pair pay for their blood debt. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself hovering beside Cora. I watched her anxiously pacing outside the laboratory door. I’d never seen such concern on her face before. Whenever she faced me, there was only sarcasm and disdain. The door opened. Cora immediately rushed to the door and grabbed Declan’s hand, asking with concern, “Declan, how did it go? Was the experiment successful?” Declan didn’t look too pleased. He forced a smile and said, “Sorry, Cora, the experiment failed again. The subject’s rejection response was too strong, and none of the drugs worked.” The “subject” he mentioned was me. The reason I became his human research subject was that my wife had lost her mind. She was so obsessed with supporting her beloved Adeline’s career that she was willing to sacrifice my life. She drugged my coffee and personally delivered me to the operating table. As she left, I begged her not to do it, “Declan’s not performing a legitimate surgery! I’ll die here!” But all I got was her cold response: “You’re lucky he’s doing an experiment on you. Instead of thanking me, you’re being ungrateful.” “You’re full of lies, always talking about life and death to scare me. It won’t work! Even if you die, I won’t care!” With that, she left, her high heels echoing her departure. I could only watch as Declan’s scalpel cut into my skin, the last scene I saw in my previous life. At this moment, Cora had long forgotten about my safety. No, to be accurate, she never cared. She tenderly caressed Declan’s cheek, comforting him, “Declan, the experiment will definitely succeed.” Declan sighed, “Cora, even though you brought Jasper Grey, I still failed. I’m sorry I let you down…” He slumped into a chair, seemingly full of guilt. But I knew it was a ploy to gain Cora’s sympathy, a trick he’d used many times. Sure enough, Cora frowned and sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, Declan. Jasper Grey, that selfish liar, should be honored to contribute to your research.” “If it failed, it’s just because his body couldn’t handle it. It’s not your fault!” Having shared a bed with her for years, I didn’t expect her to love me as I loved her, but this was too cruel. She seemed to forget I was lying on a cold dissection table. She began insulting me, just as she had defended Declan countless times before. I clenched my fists tightly, watching the harmonious scene unfold, anger surging through me. Suddenly, a white light appeared, and the Grim Reaper walked up to me, handing me two wooden plaques. Two choices appeared before my eyes. Reincarnation or rebirth for revenge?

I was reborn, back to before the human experiment. The surgery hadn’t started yet. I stabbed my thigh with a small knife to wake myself from the sedative quickly. I hid behind a wall, watching Declan take off his protective clothing and naturally hold Cora’s hand as they walked out. Cora wore a sweet smile, full of girlish tenderness. My heart ached. Deceitful pair. In my previous life, I deceived myself, believing Cora’s lies, thinking they were just close friends and had done nothing wrong, which led to my tragic end. In this life, I won’t deceive myself anymore. As Declan walked, he sighed, and Cora immediately noticed, asking with concern, “Declan, what’s wrong?” A sly look flashed in Declan’s eyes, “Cora, won’t Jasper Grey argue with you for tricking him here? It’s my fault for upsetting him…” He inadvertently revealed the scars on his arm. Sure enough, Cora immediately grabbed his hand, asking anxiously, “What happened? You were fine before you went in!” Declan quickly pretended to be flustered, pulling back his arm and shaking his head with a bitter smile, “It’s nothing… You know he doesn’t like me, so when I was focused on the surgery, he found an opportunity to scratch me. But it’s okay now, you see.” Cora’s face darkened quickly. She gritted her teeth and said viciously, “He’s a mad dog! With so many bacteria in the lab, what if you get infected? He wants you dead! How can he be so vile!” “I knew he’d use such underhanded tactics. He even accused you of doing an illegitimate surgery, that liar!” As she spoke, her face turned red with anger. I stood aside, feeling colder with each word. In my previous life, everyone saw how I treated Cora. Even if I wasn’t romantic, my character was well-known. Besides, Cora should think about it, how could I, in a sedated state, possibly scratch Declan? It was clearly Declan who scratched himself before leaving the lab. Yet Cora bought it, cursing me all the way, her words more hurtful with each step. Declan enjoyed it, grinning several times. His smug face made me want to tear him apart. As they reached the car, a tall figure suddenly charged out, punching Declan and knocking him to the ground. Cora glared angrily at the man before her, “Finn! What’s wrong with you?” Finn was my junior at work, someone who learned the ropes from me and was a good friend in life. At that moment, his eyes were red with rage as he stared at Cora, “Cora, you beast! You brought Jasper here! Don’t you know how much Declan hates him? You’re heartless! Do you want him dead? Where is he?” Cora helped Declan up from the ground, retorting defiantly, “Are you crazy? Declan is a future genius scientific researcher! Jasper is lucky to contribute! Besides, it’s just a research project. How can it be fatal?” “You’re just like him, full of nonsense and violence! You two are the real beasts!”

Finn laughed at her words, pulling out his phone and pointing at Declan, “Bullshit! The lab called me to save Jasper, where’s my brother?” Declan, on the ground, spoke up, clutching his swollen cheek with a pitiful voice, “I know you don’t like me, but you can’t slander my innocence. This experiment’s drug will only make Jasper healthier, not harm him…” “He’s Cora’s husband. How could I harm him?” At that moment, I truly admired Declan’s acting skills. It’s a shame he didn’t pursue an acting career. After Finn’s words, Cora’s face showed disdain, “I see, you said all this to get me to see Jasper, didn’t you? He put you up to this, didn’t he? Hah, you’ll say anything to get my attention.” She tossed her hair and said to Finn, “Tell him to give up! If he keeps causing trouble, I’ll divorce him! He better not push his luck!” Finn glared at them, rushing into the lab. They didn’t find me, and I held back from appearing. Now wasn’t the time. I stood in the shadows, watching the deceitful pair with a cold smile, thinking: “Cora! Remember what you said today, I won’t let you off!” With that, I left quickly. On the streets, my mind raced. In my past life, I loved Cora for years, always dedicated, yet ended up like this. Hatred filled my heart as I returned home, secretly installing surveillance. I knew that once I disappeared, with Cora’s nature, she’d become even more blatant, possibly bringing her Adeline home. I rented a room across the street and watched for three days. Sure enough, Cora eventually brought Declan home, into our home. Watching them holding hands in familiar surroundings on the monitor, hatred consumed me. I recalled how, after graduation, I worked tirelessly to ensure Cora wouldn’t suffer when she married me, working late nights. Sometimes until dawn, taking on side jobs secretly. Eventually, I bought this house in full, thinking it would bring a smile to Cora’s face. But she frequently stayed out all night, leaving only a cold emptiness when I returned home. As anticipated, Cora eventually brought Declan back to our home. Watching them through the surveillance camera, holding hands in the familiar setting, I was overwhelmed by a surge of resentment. I recalled my previous life, freshly graduated and working relentlessly to ensure Cora would have a comfortable life with me. I often burned the midnight oil, working late into the night. Sometimes, I’d work until dawn, picking up extra jobs in secret. I finally managed to buy this house outright, hoping to see a smile on Cora’s face once she moved in. Yet, she frequently stayed out all night, leaving me to return to a cold, empty house. On the surveillance camera, Declan entered without the slightest hesitation, heading straight for the sofa like he was familiar with the place. He even went directly to the fruit cabinet, taking out some fruit to eat. After entering, Cora smiled warmly at him on the sofa, saying, “I remembered you like these, so I bought them to suit your taste. This way, you won’t dislike the fruits here every time you visit.” Declan nodded and responded, “Cora, I always knew you were the best to me.” Then his eyes drifted to the floor, and he frowned, “Why is this vase still here? It’s such a nuisance!” I was taken aback. What did he mean? How did Declan know about the vase? Wasn’t this his first time here? Without any hesitation, Cora stepped forward, picked up the vase, and smashed it on the floor. The shards scattered everywhere, but Cora looked at them emotionlessly. Then she fetched cleaning tools and swept the pieces into the trash can, saying, “If you don’t like it, we won’t keep it. I think it’s disgusting too.” I stood there, staring at the shattered vase. The entire house was designed according to Cora’s preferences. All the furniture was bought under her guidance; the vase was the only item I managed to keep after much argument. Despite her many taunts, I couldn’t bring myself to remove it. I never imagined that just because of a single word from Declan, Cora would destroy my vase without a second thought. She clearly didn’t care if I would argue with her upon my return. After all, I loved her so much that I couldn’t even bring myself to say harsh words, let alone argue. It was my love that gave her such confidence. Looking at the broken pieces on the floor, Declan smiled smugly but pretended to be troubled and said, “Won’t Jasper be upset when he comes back? After all, he seemed to like that vase. What if he scolds me? I’m so scared…” After saying this, he snuggled into Cora’s arms, pretending to still be haunted by me. Cora merely scoffed, “How dare he? What right does he have to scold you? You’re too kind, letting him bully you like this!” As she spoke, her chest heaved violently as if just mentioning my name made her uncomfortable. Declan nodded, lowered his eyelashes, and said, “Thank you, Cora. You’re really good to me. Without your support, I wouldn’t have been able to establish this research institute…” Cora smiled, “What are you saying? My money is your money. Who else should I be good to if not you?” Hearing “her money,” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Since marrying me, Cora had stopped working and spent her days shopping and playing around. All the money was from me. Ever since Declan returned from abroad, her expenses skyrocketed. Maintaining it was already taxing for me. I was initially suspicious, but now I knew she used the money to support Declan! Declan held her hand tightly, “Cora, once I make more money, I’ll ensure you live a good life. You won’t need to stay with him for money. I’ll make you happy.” Cora was so moved she couldn’t say a word, nodding with tears in her eyes. Watching them, I couldn’t hold back my urge to curse, so I closed my eyes to avoid looking at them. Night fell, and I ordered some takeout while continuing to monitor my home. I saw Cora preparing a table full of dishes, inviting Declan to sit, and smiling as she said: “Declan, do you remember what day it is? It’s our sixth anniversary.” She placed a piece of pork rib in his bowl, watching him eat with satisfaction. She looked every bit the virtuous wife. I felt an indescribable sadness. After being together for so many years, she had never cooked for me. She hadn’t even stepped into the kitchen; I had handled all the household chores alone. I thought she couldn’t cook, but she just didn’t want to cook for me. Declan raised his wine glass, smiling as he said: “Of course, I remember, Cora. Thank you for entering my life. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to hold on many times.” Seeing his tears about to fall, Cora held him tightly, comforting him: “Declan, I’ll never leave you.” Upon hearing this, Declan lifted his face to look at her and said: “Cora, I actually came today to discuss something with you.” At this moment, no matter the request, even if it was the moon in the sky, Cora would give it to him without hesitation if Declan asked. She cradled his face, constantly caressing it: “Declan, what are you saying? Your matters are my matters. What can’t you tell me?” Declan hesitated for a moment and then said: “Recently, my lab wants to start a new project. I’ve already discussed it with the folks abroad. We just need the funds to start. I wanted to borrow some money from you…” Sure enough, Cora agreed without hesitation: “That’s not a problem. If you need money, I’ll fully support you! After all, you’re doing something profitable, much better than Jasper being stuck as a junior employee forever!” I was left speechless. Cora seemed to forget that both she and Declan were supported by me, the “junior employee.” How could she look down on me now? Declan coughed and said: “This time, the amount is quite large. I’ve gathered a portion, but I’m still short a few hundred thousand. So, I thought…” Cora froze; it was indeed not a small amount. Declan noticed her unease and sighed: “Never mind, it really is too much. I’ll think of another way.” But Cora wouldn’t really abandon him. She grasped his hand and smiled: “No problem. Jasper recently bought a new car. I’ll have him mortgage it for you.” Declan said excitedly: “Really? Let’s hurry to the bank!” But Cora pulled out her phone, dialing as she said: “I need to ask Jasper where the car keys and stuff are. Let me call him and ask where he is.” My phone rang in my pocket. Cora gestured for Declan to sit down, smugly waiting for me to rush to answer her call, then dutifully hand over the car keys. Unfortunately, that was the past. “Hello.” I adjusted the voice changer to a sweet, sticky female voice, and spoke with it.

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Back when I first started my esports career, Mia Taylor told me to propose to her if I ever won the world championship. It sounded like a dream. But then, one day, I overheard her talking to her friend. “Propose? To him? Please. Do you really think I’d marry a guy like that? I’m just messing with him. Imagine how hilarious it’ll be when I shut him down in front of the entire gaming world.” Her friend tried to calm her down, but Mia just rolled her eyes. “Come on. A guy who spends all day playing video games? He’s not even in the same league as me. Like, get real. A loser like him trying to date me? What a joke.” She smirked and added, “He’s broke, too. Meanwhile, I’ve got Luke—my kind of guy.” Luke Mitchell. My backup player. And right in front of me, she sent him a voice message. “Hey, Luke, guess what? I just bought this super cute new lingerie. Wanna see?” I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My chest felt like it had been hollowed out. Fast forward to the championship. The crowd was roaring, golden confetti was raining down, and I got down on one knee. But just as Mia reached out, ready to slap the ring out of my hand— I turned, smiled, and slid the ring onto the finger of the woman standing next to her.

My mind was spinning as I replayed the conversation I’d just overheard. My chest felt tight, my hands trembling. Before I could pull myself together, Mia walked up, her voice sharp and full of irritation. “God, why are you being so sensitive? Luke just broke your keyboard. Are you seriously mad about that?” That’s when I noticed Luke standing behind her, pale as a ghost. He was holding a red mechanical keyboard—the one with my gamer tag, Mitchell, engraved on it. His voice cracked as he stammered out an apology. “I… I’m sorry, Isaac. I accidentally dropped it earlier. If you want, I can buy you a new one…” But before he could finish, Mia cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Buy him a new one? For what? It’s just a keyboard. He doesn’t care.” Her tone was so dismissive, like I wasn’t even allowed to be upset about it. I stood there, staring at the two of them, forcing myself to swallow the disgust rising in my throat. “Do you guys even hear yourselves? You break someone’s stuff and act like it’s no big deal? Have some respect.” Luke turned to Mia, looking like a kicked puppy. “Mia…” That was all it took for her to snap. She spun around, glaring at me like I’d just insulted her entire existence. “What the hell is wrong with you? Luke said it was an accident! Why are you blowing this out of proportion?” “I know you’ve never liked Luke, but do you seriously have to act this petty about everything?” “And for the record, I stand for what’s right, not for you. Don’t think for a second I’ll take your side on this.” I let out a bitter laugh. For a pro gamer, your equipment isn’t just gear—it’s a part of you. It’s your rhythm, your muscle memory. Tomorrow was the last match of the group stage, and the world championship was just a week away. Luke breaking my keyboard wasn’t an accident—it was a calculated move. “‘Stand for what’s right’? What part of this is right?” I shot back. My voice was tight with anger. “And when have you ever stood by me?” My words came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. For once, I let the anger show. And she hated it. “Oh, come on! It’s just a stupid keyboard! Why are you acting like it’s the end of the world?” Before I could react, she grabbed the keyboard out of Luke’s hands and slammed it onto the floor. The sound of plastic keys scattering across the floor echoed in the room. My gamer tag, “Mitchell,” was obliterated and reduced to shattered fragments.

For a moment, even Mia looked stunned as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. But then she scoffed, doubling down. “You know what? Serves you right. And while you’re at it, maybe don’t bother playing tomorrow.” With that, she grabbed Luke’s arm and walked off, leaving me alone with the broken pieces of my keyboard. That wasn’t just a keyboard. It was the last gift my mom had given me. I clenched my fists, forcing back the lump in my throat as I carried the pieces to the technician’s room. “It’s completely busted, Isaac,” the tech said after one look. “You’re gonna have to set up a new one.” I could feel the stares of my other teammates as I walked back into the training room. Their smirks and whispered comments followed me like shadows. “Guess his plan to suck up to Mia didn’t work out. Looks like Luke’s moving up the ladder.” “Serves him right, acting all high and mighty. ‘Isaac’? What a joke.” I ignored them, but their words stung more than I cared to admit. When I got back to the training room, I saw my desk had been moved to the far corner—the “standby” seat. Luke was already sitting in my spot, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Don’t worry, Isaac,” he said, his tone dripping with fake sympathy. “I’ll give it my all in tomorrow’s match.” I narrowed my eyes at him, noticing the faint smear of lipstick on the corner of his mouth. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he and Mia had been up to. “Face it, Isaac,” he added with a smirk. “You’re past your prime. It’s time to let the younger generation take over.” I stared at him, my expression cold enough to wipe the grin off his face. No one expected what happened next. They came back from the match with a humiliating 0-3 loss. Luke’s performance? A complete disaster. Mia, our team analyst, didn’t criticize him at all. Instead, she patted him on the back like a doting mom. “It’s okay, Luke. Wins and losses are part of the game,” she said, her voice sickeningly sweet. “And besides, we’ve already secured our spot in the finals. Just think of this match as practice.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore—I laughed out loud. “Practice? Are you calling it a qualifying match practice? Wow. That’s rich.” “What’s wrong, Luke?” I added, smirking. “Weren’t you just saying yesterday that I’m too old for this?” In esports, there’s one rule that never changes: bad gameplay is the ultimate sin. Luke’s face turned bright red, but before he could say anything, Mia turned her fury on me. “God, could you stop acting like you’re so much better than everyone else? I’m so sick of the way you treat rookies! Haven’t you ever lost a match before?” Her words took me back to when I first joined the team. I wasn’t consistent back then, and after one particularly bad match, Mia pulled me aside. “Every single point matters in competitive gaming,” she’d told me. I remembered the late nights, grinding ranked games with her by my side. She’d walk me through every champion, every strategy, until I got it right. I remembered the way she’d held my hand before a big match and promised, “As long as I’m here, I’ll make sure you become the best jungler in the world.” And I had. After winning the spring championship last year, I confessed to her. We got together, and it felt like everything had fallen into place. But now, here she was, telling me a qualifying match didn’t matter. In that moment, I realized something: She wasn’t the same person anymore. She’d already rotted from the inside out.

After losing the match, Luke was buried under a mountain of public backlash. Fans tore him to shreds online—insults flying at him from every corner. I thought he’d lay low, maybe try to redeem himself. But then Mia posted on Facebook. “Sure, Luke didn’t play his best. We get that. But someone smashed his keyboard yesterday, messing up his focus. I can’t stay silent anymore. I hope people can give the rookie some time and encouragement.” She even uploaded a video clip. The footage was edited to make me look like the villain, twisting our argument into something malicious. It showed me deliberately targeting Luke and, to top it off, smashing his keyboard. The camera zoomed in on the broken pieces of the keyboard. The engraving on the back—Mitchell—was clear as day. Fans immediately jumped on the hate train. “Isaac, you jealous loser! Going after a rookie? How low can you sink?” “I can’t believe I ever supported Isaac. What a pathetic excuse for a pro!” “And Mia? Absolute queen for exposing him. And wasn’t she dating Isaac once? Damn, the tea is hot.” I was so angry I nearly laughed—it felt like the only way to stop myself from exploding. Then, just as I was about to leave, Luke walked out of Mia’s office. He stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at me like he was the king of the world. “See that?” he said, smirking. “She’ll always take my side. What do you have to fight me with?” “Even if I lose, the fans will forgive me. But you? You’re done.” He tilted his head, the gold chain around his neck catching the light. Hanging from it was a gold ring. My chest tightened. That ring… It was the one I bought last year after winning the championship. I’d spent weeks tracking it down—an exclusive, custom-made luxury piece from overseas. Mia had said it was too special to wear every day, that she wanted to save it for “the right moment.” Turns out, that “moment” was giving it to Luke. Luke had joined the team six months ago as a last-minute substitute. At first, no one took him seriously—not even Mia, who suggested cutting him after his first month. But I was the one who stood up for him, coaching him on every hero and helping him improve match after match. I still remember the day he lost a crucial game. I was furious, demanding he be sent to the second team for more training. That was the first time Mia sided with him over me. “Come on, Isaac,” she said. “Who hasn’t lost a match before? Why are you being so harsh?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Mia, this is the playoffs! We can’t afford to mess around!” But she just frowned, her tone full of disappointment. “I know you’re Isaac, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat people like they’re beneath you.” “Isaac… when did you become like this?” And just like that, she walked off with Luke, leaving me standing there speechless. Later that night, I felt guilty. Maybe I had been too harsh. So I went to find Luke, planning to apologize and clear the air. But when I opened the door, I froze. Mia was sitting next to him, carefully sewing a tear in his shirt. Luke caught her hand mid-stitch, his voice soft. “Aren’t you spending the night with Isaac?” he asked, a teasing smile on his face. Mia blushed—a sight I hadn’t seen in months. “I’m here, aren’t I? Where else would I go?” Luke reached up and cupped her face. “Thank you, Mia. It means so much to me that you’d stand up for me.” I stumbled away from the door, heart pounding, terrified of what I might see if I stayed any longer. When Mia came out later, her flushed cheeks said more than words ever could. 4 I stared at Luke now, standing in front of me, smug as ever. Aside from being younger, what did he even have going for him? “If I’m the one who’s washed up,” I said coldly, “then you should just quit altogether.” “If you put half the effort into actually playing that you put into acting like a victim, you’d be at the top of the rankings by now.” “Or maybe,” I added with a smirk, “you just really enjoy being the guy who hides behind Mia every time something goes wrong. Cry a little, let her fight your battles for you. That’s your whole strategy, isn’t it?” My words hit him like a punch to the gut. His face twisted in anger. Then, out of nowhere, he dropped to the ground, clutching his hand and screaming like I’d just broken it in two. “Ahhh! My hand! Isaac, why did you step on my hand?!” His shrieking was so loud it immediately drew a crowd. Mia came running over, her face full of panic. She shoved me hard, her voice shaking with rage. “Isaac! Are you insane?!” “Do you even understand how important a player’s hands are?!” She knelt down beside Luke, cradling his hand like it was made of glass. “Are you okay, Luke? Does it hurt? Let me see.” Luke whimpered, glancing at me with fake fear in his eyes. “It’s my fault,” he said, voice trembling. “I shouldn’t have tried to take Isaac’s spot. I’m sorry, Isaac! Please don’t hurt me anymore.” “My hands… they’re everything to me. How am I supposed to compete now?” He reached out, tugging weakly at my sleeve like a helpless child. I couldn’t take it anymore. I actually laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. “If you’re going to frame me, at least put some effort into it,” I said, kicking him to the ground. “You’re pathetic.” Mia screamed, trying to pull me back as I grabbed his collar. My grip tightened with every second, and her voice rose in panic. “Isaac, stop! Have you lost your mind?!” “You can’t hurt him! What’s wrong with you?!” Finally, she slapped me hard enough to sting. “You’re a monster!” she spat, tears brimming in her eyes. Then, before I could react, she stomped on my hand, grinding her heel into my fingers with all her weight. “You’ll pay for this,” she hissed. “I’ll make sure of it.” Pain shot through my hand as I shoved her off me, my fingers swollen and bleeding. My hands—my lifeline—were more important than anything. Clutching my injured hand, I stumbled out and made my way to the ER, barely able to stay on my feet. 5. “Doctor, I have a championship match coming up. Can my hand recover in a week?” I gripped the doctor’s sleeve tightly, my voice trembling with desperation. “Take it easy,” he said, gently prying my hand off. “The good news is there’s no bone fracture. But the soft tissue damage? A week might be pushing it.” My stomach sank. “Then do something—give me a shot, painkillers, whatever it takes!” I couldn’t afford to give up. Not now. “I’ll do my best,” he said, his tone calm but serious. Later that night, I sat alone in the ER, hooked up to an IV. The sound of the saline drip hitting the tube echoed in the silence, each drop louder than the last. In the stillness of the hospital, it felt oppressive, almost suffocating. That slap and that stomp—Mia’s betrayal—did more than just injure my hand. It broke something deeper. It severed the last threads of the bond we’d shared over the past two years. I clenched my injured hand into a fist, and then released it, testing the strength in my muscles. “You know that’s only going to make it worse, right?” A familiar voice broke my trance. I looked up, startled, to see Evelyn standing there in a white coat, her arms crossed, a mix of concern and amusement in her expression. “It’s been a while,” she said with a small smile. “I saw your name on the chart and thought, ‘No way, it can’t be him.’ But here you are.” Evelyn and I had grown up together. She was the closest thing I had to a childhood friend. Back in middle school, when I decided to try my hand at professional gaming, she’d promised to stand by me no matter what. But after I joined the club, she disappeared. She stopped answering my calls and my messages. For a while, I thought she’d forgotten about me. Only later did I learn her parents had sent her overseas. Now, here she was, back in the city, interning at the hospital. Her eyes dropped to my bandaged hand. “Aren’t you a pro gamer? What happened to your hand?” I hesitated, and then gave her the short version of the story. Luke, Mia, the injury—everything. When I finished, she stared at me for a long moment before shaking her head. “Isaac Mitchell, since when did you become so stupid?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe this is what happens when you’re too nice to people?” She snorted. “Nice? You? Did you hit your head, too? Or has gaming scrambled your brain? Don’t act like I don’t know you.” She smirked. “You used to be the most vengeful person I knew.” That hit a nerve. She wasn’t wrong. Back then, no one dared mess with me. Everyone called me the “crazy Mitchell kid.” I laughed, this time for real, and Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” she asked. “Evelyn,” I said, still grinning, “do you want to come watch the World Championship?” Does Mia want to play games? Fine. Let’s see who’s still standing in the end.

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Riding my rusty little food cart, loaded with steaming braised pork trotters, I suddenly realized the brakes had gone out. Before I could react, the cart careened straight into a gleaming Rolls-Royce parked by the curb. I sighed, already bracing for the fallout. Reaching into my pocket for my bank card, I figured I’d just throw some money at the problem and hope for the best. But then the car door swung open, and out stepped someone I hadn’t expected to see in a million years—my ex-fiancée. Her expression was a wild rollercoaster of emotions: shock, disbelief, and finally, a smirk of pure satisfaction. Before I could even think about hopping back on the cart and making a getaway, she moved faster than I thought humanly possible. In the blink of an eye, she was in front of me, aiming a sharp kick straight at my stomach. “Well, well,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “The guy who ghosted me right before our wedding. You just had to chase your dreams and disappear to God knows where. What happened? Did your big plans crash and burn? Now you’re back selling pork trotters, huh?” …

Emma’s kick was no joke—it was like getting hit by a freight train. I landed flat on my back, the impact rattling the food cart behind me, sending the insulated container of steaming pork trotters wobbling precariously. Groaning, I clutched my stomach, trying to rub away the pain. Cold sweat trickled down my back as I lay there, too dazed to even glance in her direction. But Emma wasn’t done. Arms crossed, she strode toward me in her high heels, each step deliberate and menacing. She stopped just inches from me, her silhouette towering over my crumpled form. With an air of unsettling calm, she reached down, her icy fingers gripping my chin and forcing me to look up at her. “Liam,” she said, dragging my name out like a taunt, her voice sweet but laced with venom. “Seven years… and here you are again, right back in my hands. So tell me, you hit my Rolls-Royce—how exactly are you planning to pay for it?” Her palm came down in slow, deliberate pats against my cheek, mockingly gentle. I stayed on the ground, staring up at her. My eyes involuntarily traced the way her hair fell over her shoulder, catching the light. She was still as beautiful as ever, though thinner now—like she hadn’t been eating properly. Her voice had a slight rasp, her nose and cheeks tinged red from the cold. And in this freezing weather, she was only wearing a coat, nothing warm underneath. The sight of her made something twist painfully in my chest. Even as she slapped my cheek with that look of pure hate, I couldn’t help but feel like I was dreaming. That is, until she delivered another sharp smack to the back of my head, snapping me out of my daze. “Don’t you dare look at me with that fake, lovesick expression!” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Seven years ago, you vanished like a coward before our wedding. And now, you’re a broke loser crashing into my car. What? You think you can weasel your way out of this by playing the ‘long-lost lover’ card?” Her words hit harder than the kick. I scrambled to pull out my bank card, fumbling with my pocket as a sharp ache spread through my chest. It wasn’t just the guilt—it was the bitterness of seeing how much she despised me now. Seven years ago, she’d cry if I so much as nicked my finger. Now, she didn’t hesitate to slap me like I was nothing. But as I clutched the card, my mind wandered back to the moment that had changed everything. Seven years ago, I disappeared three days before our wedding—not because I wanted to leave her, but because I had no choice. I was working undercover, trying to save my team leader in a high-stakes drug bust. The operation went sideways, and we were caught in an explosion. I woke up three months later in a hospital bed, my body scarred and my life in shambles. I had every intention of going back to Emma, to beg for her forgiveness and explain everything. But life had other plans. A diagnosis of terminal cancer landed in my lap like a cruel joke. I couldn’t drag Emma into the wreckage of my life—not when I had no future to offer her. So I let her go, thinking it was the right thing to do. And now, here I was. All I’d wanted was to spend my last days chasing a simple dream of becoming a chef, living a quiet life. Yet fate had thrown me back into her orbit in the most humiliating way possible. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced myself to stay composed. My fingers tightened around the card as I tried to hand it to her, choking back the tears threatening to spill. “It’s not like that,” I blurted, my voice cracking under the weight of everything I couldn’t say. “I can pay for the car, I swear. Just let me—” Before I could even get the words out, Emma smirked, already one step ahead of me. With a dramatic toss of her long hair, she reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a neatly folded stack of papers. A contract. She waved it in front of me with a triumphant grin. “Ha! Forget the money. Just sign this!”

Before I could even recover from my shock or process what was happening, Emma crouched down, grabbed my hand, and sank her teeth into it—hard. The sharp pain shot through me as blood trickled from the bite. Emma, unfazed, pressed my bleeding hand onto the contract, smearing the paper with red. “Ha! I knew you couldn’t afford to pay for my car! So, here’s the deal—you’ve signed your life away. This is a servitude contract, Liam, and I now have the right to do whatever I want with you!” I howled in pain, springing to my feet like a startled cat, shaking my injured hand to stop the bleeding. “Emma, what the hell is wrong with you—” Before I could finish, her hand came flying at me again, slapping me clean across the face. “Shut up!” she barked, her eyes blazing with fury. “Look at you—broke, pathetic, and still trying to act like some tough guy. You can’t pay for the car, so don’t even think about strutting around like you’re someone important!” Her voice dripped with scorn as she jabbed a finger into my chest. “Here are your options, Liam. Either you go to jail for wrecking my car, or you stay here and suffer through every punishment I see fit. And trust me, I’m going to make you regret every single decision you’ve ever made—especially the one where you left me standing at the altar!” She leaned closer, her voice colder than ice. “Seven years ago, I must’ve been blind to even consider marrying a loser like you. But starting today, I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.” Her finger jabbed me so hard that I nearly stumbled backward. I stood there, stunned, staring at the fiery, vengeful woman in front of me. My hand, still clutching the bank card in my pocket, suddenly froze. Why bother pulling it out? What was the point? I only had a month left to live anyway. The cancer was eating me alive, and I knew my time was running out. If I spent these last few weeks being dragged around by her, at least I’d get to see her every day. Maybe, selfishly, I could allow myself that small comfort before the end. Emma didn’t even glance back as she turned on her heel and walked away, her voice sharp as she barked another order. “Hurry up, Liam! Quit standing there like an idiot and move!” I hesitated, glancing back at my food cart. The pork trotters inside had taken me hours to perfect. The glossy, caramelized skin, the tender meat, the fragrant sauce—I’d been so proud of them. But all I could do now was sigh and abandon the cart as I jogged after her. Emma led me to her mansion—a sprawling, 5,000-square-foot luxury home. She assigned me to a tiny, 100-square-foot room, barely bigger than a closet. It was clear she wasn’t going to make this easy for me. Her hatred for me was written in every detail of my new “job.” The house was spotless, and she had a full-time cleaning service on staff, but that didn’t stop her from making me scrub every tile on my hands and knees until it gleamed. She had a fleet of luxury cars at her disposal, but instead of using them, she made me pedal her $3,800 designer bicycle, carting her around for miles like a human chauffeur. It felt like she was actively trying to kill me. By the time I collapsed in the corner of the kitchen after another grueling day of chores, my hands were raw, covered in blisters and cuts. I stared at my trembling fingers, unable to hold back the wave of exhaustion and despair creeping over me. “Liam!” One of her assistants barked as they burst into the room. “Miss Emma wants coffee. And not just any coffee—she wants Louis XVI coffee at exactly 46 degrees. Got it? Not 45, not 47. If you screw this up, you’ll be in for it!” I groaned, dragging myself off the floor. “Got it,” I muttered under my breath, shuffling toward the door like a zombie. As I stumbled around the corner, I didn’t realize Emma was walking straight toward me. Before I could stop myself, I bumped into her. Her body was soft and warm as she fell lightly against my chest. Her scent—faintly floral, clean, and familiar—flooded my senses, and for a moment, my heart felt like it was about to explode. I panicked, afraid she’d push me away in disgust. My hands instinctively moved to steady her before I quickly backed off, trying to be respectful. “Emma, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” I stammered, stepping back. But then she turned around, surprising me. Her small fists pressed against my chest as she looked up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Liam…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, stripped of all the anger and venom I’d grown used to over the past few days. It reminded me of the Emma I used to know, the one who would laugh and blush whenever I looked at her. My chest tightened, my nose stinging as if I was on the verge of tears. I gazed at her, my voice equally gentle as I asked, “What’s wrong?” Emma tilted her head slightly, her cheeks flushed, her lips parting as though she wanted to say something—but no words came out. Then, without warning, her hands started moving. She tugged at my shirt, her soft fingers brushing against my skin, wandering across my chest with no regard for personal boundaries. Her face rested delicately against my chest, as if she belonged there. I froze, my body heating up like a furnace. Every instinct screamed that this wasn’t right, that something was off, but I couldn’t bring myself to push her away. Then I heard her murmur, her voice slurred and faint, “You jerk… leaving me like that… If I tie you to my side, will you finally see how much I care? Will you regret abandoning me…?” Her words trailed off as her body suddenly went limp. She collapsed completely into my arms. Panic gripped me as I caught her, my heart pounding. I touched her forehead, only to realize it was burning up—she was running a dangerously high fever. “Damn it, Emma,” I muttered under my breath, my throat tightening as I fought back tears. She must’ve been delirious, and that’s why she’d let slip everything she was feeling. Without wasting another second, I scooped her up in my arms and ran like my life depended on it, faster than any car on the road. I carried her up the stairs to her bedroom, called a doctor, and stayed by her side as they gave her fluids and medication. For three days and nights, I didn’t leave her bedside. I didn’t sleep, barely ate, and spent every second tending to her—wiping her sweat, adjusting her blanket, and making sure she was comfortable. By the third night, exhaustion got the better of me, and I nodded off for just a moment. I woke up to the faint sound of coughing. My eyes shot open, and I saw Emma stirring in bed, her body curling slightly as if she wanted to sit up. “I’ll get you some water!” I blurted out, scrambling to my feet. I didn’t notice her staring at me, her expression soft and filled with something I hadn’t seen before. When I turned back with the water, I met her gaze—those big, hopeful eyes brimming with an emotion that made my chest ache. “Liam,” she said softly, her voice still raspy. “You were worried about me, weren’t you? That’s why you stayed… you didn’t rest at all, did you?” She didn’t realize it, but her fingers were nervously fidgeting with the blanket, and she bit her lip as she waited for my answer. It was like she was afraid of what I might say, yet silently praying I’d confirm what she already suspected. The truth was on the tip of my tongue. I wanted to tell her, Yes, Emma. I was worried sick about you. I couldn’t bear to leave your side. But then I remembered the words she’d mumbled before fainting, her vulnerability, and the cruel reality of my terminal cancer. How could I let her hope for a future with me when I didn’t even have one? So instead, I forced a laugh, plastering on a fake grin. “Worried about you? Don’t be ridiculous. If I cared, I wouldn’t have left you seven years ago, would I? I just didn’t want you dying and leaving no one to pay me back for all the trouble you’ve caused!” I laughed loudly, hoping it would mask the way my heart was breaking. Her expression fell instantly, her hopeful gaze turning into one of quiet disappointment. She lowered her eyes, her fingers stilling as the weight of my words sank in. She didn’t say anything, but the hurt was written all over her face. I could’ve stopped there, but I knew that wasn’t enough to push her away completely. I needed to make her hate me, to sever whatever lingering feelings she might have had. So I forced myself to say the one thing I knew would break her. “And you know why I left you back then? It wasn’t because of some noble reason. It was because…” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Because I’m into men.” Her head shot up, her eyes widening in shock. I forced another laugh, scratching the back of my neck like it was no big deal. “Yeah, that’s right. I’ve always liked guys. Guess I was just too scared to admit it back then.” The room fell into a suffocating silence, the kind that made even the air feel heavy. Then came the slap. “SMACK!” Her hand struck my face with enough force to rattle the windows. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she glared at me with a mix of anger and heartbreak. She didn’t say another word. She simply tossed a bank card at me, pointed to the door, and spat out one final command. “Get out.” I clenched my fists, my head hanging low as I bit my lip to keep from crying. This was for the best, I told myself. This was how it had to be. Without another word, I turned and walked away, leaving her behind. Days passed, and I threw myself into my food cart business, selling pork trotters to anyone who’d buy them. It was the only thing keeping me sane. One afternoon, as I sat on the curb, lost in thought about Emma, someone called out to me. “Liam?” I turned to see Thomas, an old friend from my time in the police force. He grinned when he saw me, his eyes lighting up at the sight of my pork trotters. “Man, those smell amazing,” he said, but instead of digging in like he usually would, he hesitated, looking at me with a strange expression. “Thomas, what’s up?” I asked. He scratched the back of his head, avoiding my gaze. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s about… your diagnosis.” I froze. “What about it?” He sighed. “Turns out the doctor messed up. The cancer diagnosis? It wasn’t yours. It belonged to some old guy who died 13 years ago. The idiot mixed up the records because you have the same name.” My mind went blank. “What… what did you say?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Thomas nodded quickly, trying to reassure me. “You’re fine, Liam. You’re not dying. The doctor’s been fired for screwing up so many cases, and—” I didn’t wait for him to finish. I was alive. I wasn’t going to die. And that meant… I could still be with Emma. Without thinking, I took off running, darting through the crowded streets like a man possessed. I had to tell her. I had to fix everything. I reached her house, breathless and trembling with anticipation. Knocking on the door, I called out, “Emma, I—” The door opened, and before I could say anything, she sprayed me in the face with a garden hose. Blinking through the water, I saw him. A tall, handsome man sat on her bed, casually eating an apple she’d peeled for him, his legs crossed like he owned the place.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295247”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance

The day after dividing our assets from the divorce, I got into a car accident and lost my memory. Later, Caleb found me and said if I didn’t go crazy every day, remarriage was possible. I froze with an ice cream spoon in my mouth, and after a long while, I finally spoke: “I’d rather not! I… I… I’d be fine with just taking the money.” This introductory paragraph effectively sets up the premise of the story, introducing the main conflict and the protagonist’s attitude, which should pique readers’ interest. I woke up to find my best friend Mia Quinn looking at me with a worried expression. She told me not to be sad anymore. She said that my body was my own, and even though I was divorced, I should still take good care of myself. She mentioned that the children were with Caleb and wouldn’t suffer, so there was no need for me to go to court again, especially since I wouldn’t win anyway. I was stunned for a moment before asking, “Who’s Caleb?” Mia froze, looking confused. After a while, she came to her senses and called for a doctor. The doctor said I had amnesia as a result of the car accident. Mia hurriedly asked me how old I thought I was. I thought for a moment and replied, “Eighteen, right? Didn’t I just take the SAT yesterday?” Mia burst into laughter, crouching on the floor and holding her stomach. She was laughing so hard she started pounding the bed with her fist. “Hazel, you’re amazing. Your amnesia is perfect. Yes, you’re eighteen. Eighteen is great! No Caleb, no kids… just the two of us…” I was even more confused.

Mia took me back to her place after confirming that it would be difficult for me to regain my memories. She then gave me a brief overview of my current situation. I, Hazel Winters, fell in love during my freshman year of college with a poor boy named Caleb Parker. Caleb and I were together for ten years, from when I was eighteen until I was twenty-eight. I supported him while he started his business, lived through tough times with him, gave birth to and raised his children, and took care of his parents. Then this year, he filed for divorce. “What? Huh?” I was shocked. This sounded like some tragic romance novel plot. After a while, I asked in a trembling voice, “So, you’re saying I was basically someone’s servant for ten years, and then at twenty-eight, I was thrown out?” Mia nodded, “Yes, and you have two children. Your son is six years old, and your daughter is four. But since you were a stay-at-home mom without earning power, both children chose to stay with their father, so custody was awarded to Caleb.” “…What? I lost both children that I worked so hard to raise…” Even though I couldn’t remember experiencing any of this, it sounded terrifying. I was almost in tears from fear. Then Mia laughed and patted my shoulder, “Don’t be too upset. At least you got money.” With tears welling up in my eyes, I cautiously asked, “How much?” Mia sat up straight, “Hazel, listen carefully. You got 20% of Caleb’s assets, 10% shares in three listed companies, and two traditional courtyard houses in Beijing. It’s worth about 1.9 billion dollars.” “…” Silence, contemplation, and then I tentatively asked, “Mia, you’re not lying to me, are you?” “I swear on my life, I’m not lying.” That day, I gazed out the window at the sky in a daze. I had forgotten ten years of memories. I wasn’t sure how I had spent those ten years. But Mia said I was very wealthy, and when I was eighteen, money was what I loved most. So I thought this wasn’t too bad after all.

Mia took time off work and spent the next few days helping me transfer various assets. I didn’t see Caleb, the man Mia had mentioned. He had delegated all divorce property divisions to his lawyer. After nearly a month of busy work, Mia helped me list all the properties under my name for rent. She calculated that the monthly rental income would be around 1.2 million dollars. That day, I looked at the endless zeros in my bank account, then raised my head to see my twenty-eight-year-old self, perfectly made up, in the mirror. I scratched my head, thinking it wasn’t too bad.

I had nothing to do at home, but Mia had to work. So I spent my days playing video games at Mia’s place. Mia would order takeout for me when she got her lunch. Mia came home very late, looking exhausted. She’d collapse on the sofa, completely drained. I’d put down my game controller and massage her shoulders. Apparently, I had muscle memory for this and was quite good at it. After Mia had rested enough, she started complaining, “That bastard Caleb. You worked for him for free right after graduation, and when his mom was sick, you’d massage her after work.” “…” As Mia continued talking, she grabbed my hand and flicked my forehead, “Hazel, you’re such a pushover. When I wasn’t around, you let them bully you. Those people, they took advantage of you being an orphan.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a bit wronged, “I don’t remember any of that! I only remember you.” Mia stopped talking, then laughed, “That’s right! You don’t remember. It’s better that you don’t. Just remember me, I won’t bully you.” I believed Mia on this because we had grown up together. We both grew up in an orphanage. From a very young age, I followed Mia around. She would fight for snacks for me and help me with laundry. As we got older, Mia would help me with my studies. She was a year older than me. During my senior year of high school, when she was a college freshman, she’d call me every day to encourage me to study hard. Back then, she wanted me to go to the same university as her, but Mia was too smart. Even though I studied like crazy, I couldn’t get into Harvard in the end. The day the results came out, I hugged Mia and cried. Mia gave me a light tap on the head, “Why are you crying? Your scores are amazing, what’s there to cry about?” She patted my head, “You’ve done really well.” Later, I went to Yale, crying all the way.

Mia regretted letting me go, saying, “If you hadn’t gone to Yale, you wouldn’t have met Caleb. If you hadn’t met Caleb…” I jumped in to finish her sentence, “Then I wouldn’t have these 1.9 billion dollars.” Mia put her hands on her hips, “Is money more important or those ten years of your life?” I tried to guess the correct answer, “Money is more important?” Mia looked exasperated, “You are important. If you’re not happy, no amount of money matters. It’s a good thing you lost your memory. Otherwise, if you had done something stupid, what use would all that money be?” “Um… to buy me a nice grave plot…” Mia couldn’t help but laugh, “Get out of here!” “…” Mia has always been impressive, and she still is. She’s the general manager of a multinational company, with a monthly salary of around $400,000. But she’s very busy and sometimes has to go on business trips. She didn’t want to leave me alone, so she’d take me along. After a while, she figured that since she was going to bring me everywhere anyway, why spend her own money? So she hired me as her assistant at her company. I was familiar with this! I had read over a dozen novels about bosses falling in love with their assistants in the past few months. On my first day, I confidently went to work wearing a form-fitting professional outfit. I made her coffee, organized her documents, and ran around doing various tasks. I looked very hardworking, but later she found it amusing and told me to stop running around. She gave me a form Thank you for the feedback. I’ll continue with the full translation using these new names. Full translation Title: Divorced and Amnesiac: My Unexpected Second Chance Chapter 1 I woke up to find my best friend Mia Quinn looking at me with a worried expression. She told me not to be sad anymore. She said that my body was my own, and even though I was divorced, I should still take good care of myself. She mentioned that the children were with Caleb and wouldn’t suffer, so there was no need for me to go to court again, especially since I wouldn’t win anyway. I was stunned for a moment before asking, “Who’s Caleb?” Mia froze, looking confused. After a while, she came to her senses and called for a doctor. The doctor said I had amnesia due to the car accident. Mia quickly asked me how old I was. I thought for a moment and replied, “Eighteen, right? Didn’t I just take the SAT yesterday?” Mia burst into laughter, crouching on the floor and holding her stomach. She was laughing so hard she was pounding the bed with her fist. “Hazel, you’re amazing. Your amnesia is perfect. Yes, you’re eighteen. Eighteen is great! No Caleb, no kids… just the two of us…” I was even more confused. Chapter 2 Mia took me home after confirming that it would be difficult for me to regain my memories. She then gave me a brief introduction to my current situation. I, Hazel Winters, fell in love during my freshman year of college with a poor boy named Caleb Parker. Caleb and I dated for ten years, from eighteen to twenty-eight. I supported him in his business ventures, shared in his hardships, gave birth to his children, and took care of his parents. Then this year, he filed for divorce. “What? Huh?” I was shocked. This sounded like some tragic romance novel. After a while, I asked with a trembling voice, “So, you’re saying I was someone’s servant for ten years, and at twenty-eight, I was thrown out?” Mia nodded, “Yes, and you have two children. Your son is six years old, and your daughter is four. But because you were a housewife without your own income, both children chose to stay with their father, so the court awarded custody to Caleb.” “…Ah? The two children I raised are gone…” Even though I couldn’t remember experiencing any of this, it sounded terrifying. I was almost in tears from fear. Then Mia laughed and patted my shoulder, “Don’t be too upset. At least you got money.” With tears welling up in my eyes, I cautiously asked, “How much?” Mia sat up straight, “Hazel, listen carefully. You got 20% of Caleb’s assets, 10% shares in three listed companies, and two courtyard houses in Boston. It’s worth about $1.9 billion in total.” “…” Silence, contemplation, and then I tentatively asked, “Mia, you’re not lying to me, are you?” “I swear on my life, I’m not lying.” That day, I stared out the window at the sky in a daze. I had forgotten ten years of memories. I wasn’t sure how I had spent those ten years. But Mia said I was very rich, and when I was eighteen, money was what I loved most. So I thought this wasn’t too bad after all. Chapter 3 Mia took time off work and spent the next few days helping me transfer various assets. I didn’t meet the Caleb that Mia mentioned. For all the divorce property divisions, he had appointed a lawyer. After about a month of busy work, Mia helped me list all the houses under my name for rent. She calculated that the monthly rent would be about $1.2 million. That day, I looked at the countless zeros in my bank account, then raised my head to see my twenty-eight-year-old self in the mirror, with perfect makeup and hair. I scratched my head, thinking it wasn’t too bad. Chapter 4 I had nothing to do at home, but Mia had to work. So I stayed at Mia’s place playing video games every day. Mia would order takeout for me when she ordered her lunch. Mia came home very late, looking exhausted. She collapsed on the sofa, lifeless. I put down my game controller and started massaging her shoulders. It seemed I had muscle memory for this, as I was very good at it. After Mia had rested enough, she started complaining, “That bastard Caleb. You worked for him for free right after graduation. When his mother was ill, you had to massage and take care of her after work.” “…” As Mia continued talking, she grabbed my head and flicked my forehead, “Hazel, you’re such a pushover. When I wasn’t around, you let them bully you. Those people, they took advantage of you being an orphan.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a bit wronged, “I don’t remember any of that! I only remember you.” Mia stopped talking and then laughed, “That’s right! You don’t remember. It’s better that you don’t remember. Just remember me, I won’t bully you.” I believed Mia’s words because we grew up together. We both grew up in an orphanage. From a very young age, I followed Mia around. She would fight for snacks for me and help me wash my clothes. When we got older, Mia would help me with my studies. She was a year older than me. In my senior year of high school, when she was a freshman in college, she would call me every day to encourage me to study hard. Back then, she wanted me to go to the same university as her. But Mia was too smart. Even though I studied like crazy, I still couldn’t get into Harvard. The day the results came out, I hugged Mia and cried. Mia gave me a light knock on the head, “Why are you crying? Your scores are amazing. What’s there to cry about?” She patted my head, “You’ve done really well.” Later, I went to Yale, crying all the way. Chapter 5 Mia regretted letting me go, saying, “If you hadn’t gone to Yale, you wouldn’t have met Caleb. If you hadn’t met Caleb…” I quickly answered, “Then I wouldn’t have this $1.9 billion.” Mia put her hands on her hips, “Is money more important or those ten years more important?” I tried to guess the correct answer, “Money is important?” Mia looked at me with exasperation, “You are important. If you’re not happy, no amount of money matters. It’s good that you lost your memory. Otherwise, if you did something stupid, what use would that money be?” “Um… to buy me a nice grave plot…” Mia laughed despite her frustration, “Get out of here!” “…” Mia has always been impressive, and she still is. She’s now the general manager of a multinational company, with a monthly salary of around $400,000. But she’s very busy and sometimes has to go on business trips. She worries about leaving me alone. So she takes me with her. Later, she figured that since she had to take me everywhere anyway, why spend her own money? She hired me as her assistant at her company. I was familiar with this! I had read more than a dozen books about overbearing CEOs falling in love with their little assistants in the past few months. On the first day, I went to work confidently wearing a form-fitting professional outfit. I made her coffee, organized her documents, and ran around busily. I looked very hardworking, but later she found it amusing and told me to stop running around. She gave me a form, “Let Anna guide you. Fill this out, take your time learning, no rush.” “Alright, alright.” And that’s how I officially started working.

Every day, I went to work and came home with Mia. I didn’t have much work to do, so I got off earlier. Mia couldn’t do that; she had a lot of work. I always waited for her in the break room. Later, when Mia saw me watching online courses on my phone, she suddenly remembered and seriously asked me, “Hazel, do you want to study?” “…I do.” I had lost my memory, so there was a lot I didn’t know at work. I was practically starting from scratch, and I felt quite discouraged every time I couldn’t do something well. Since I was young, Mia had always been my goal, and she still is now. I also wanted to be as capable as Mia, handling everything with ease. It was so cool. Later, Mia enrolled me in a class. After work, I would drive to attend classes. It was a systematic project management course, interspersed with various office software applications. I filled two notebooks with notes before I started to understand. So that’s how it works. After finishing that course, Mia sent me to learn financial accounting. I studied for a year and had a major revelation. So that’s how it all works. I started to get the hang of my job.

After I had been working for a year, Mia started letting me join Anna in project negotiations. Anna was three years younger than me and was a project manager with a very good personality. She spoke gently and took good care of me. One time, after discussing work, she went downstairs to buy herself a coffee and bought me an ice cream. I was happily eating my ice cream when Anna laughed, “Mia says you’re 29, but I never believe it. Hazel, you’re just like a kid! A hardworking and obedient child.” I thought for a moment and solemnly told her, “Actually, I already have two children.” “Stop kidding me. We’ve been working together for over a year, and I’ve never seen your husband.” “We’re divorced.” “Sister, you look like a young girl.” “Well… actually, I’m a young divorcee.” Anna was stunned. She didn’t believe me, and I laughed. Actually, I didn’t believe it either. I had just finished my college entrance exam, how could I be twenty-nine already? But I’ve been taking good care of myself these two years, so I do look younger now. Actually, right after the divorce, I wasn’t in good shape. I was quite haggard. But I guess money does nourish people. After I was discharged from the hospital, Mia took me for various skincare treatments for a while. She also said I was too weak and signed me up for a martial arts class. The eighteen-year-old me always followed Mia’s lead. If she said east, I would never go west. If she said martial arts, I would never sign up for taekwondo. We hired a housekeeper to prepare nutritious meals, and as time went by, I got better and better. Because I had lost my memory, I had no worries at all. I had money and didn’t need to work, could eat and sleep well. In those few months, even my hair became thicker. Actually, I’ve been quite happy for the past year or so, having forgotten the messy memories of the past ten years. With an eighteen-year-old’s clean slate of a mind, I’ve been learning various things without any pressure, and Mia has always been supporting and guiding me from behind. But I guess even heaven couldn’t bear to see me so comfortable. One day, I met a man at the place where Anna took me to negotiate a cooperation.

Anna’s meeting that day was quite confidential, so I couldn’t attend. She left me at the coffee shop downstairs, eating ice cream and reading a book. Halfway through my reading, I felt someone staring at me. I looked up and saw a man in a suit, his brows furrowed. He was just looking at me. I was stunned, feeling that he looked somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t remember who he was. Later, when Anna finished her meeting and came down, I picked up the coffee I had bought in advance and went to find her. As I passed by that man, I heard him say, “Pretending not to know me?” This sentence came out of nowhere. I glanced at him but didn’t pay much attention, carrying the coffee out the door. But that man followed me out, “Hazel Winters, you don’t even say hello when we meet?” I turned around, and Anna turned with me. Anna saw the man and smiled, “Mr. Parker! Long time no see.” Caleb didn’t acknowledge Anna, just staring at me. I looked at the man and quietly asked Anna, “Is he Caleb?” “Yes, the CEO of Parker Group. Do you know him?” “…Um, I think he’s my… ex-husband…” Anna was stunned. She looked at me, then at Caleb, then back at me. Caleb stared at me. I thought for a moment and extended my hand, “Hello.” Caleb didn’t shake my hand. He looked at me, his eyes contemptuous and mocking, “Hazel Winters, I underestimated you. I thought you were really a good mother! In court, you fought so hard for Zack and Ava, but after getting the money, you haven’t even come to see them once… It’s a good thing I didn’t give the children to you. Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a mother.” A wave of inexplicable sadness welled up in my heart, but as the sadness dissipated, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember what Zack and Ava looked like. “Hazel Winters, you’d better come back this weekend. Otherwise, you’ll never see Zack and Ava again in this lifetime.” Caleb left, leaving behind a confused Anna and a pensive me.

That day when I got home, for the first time, I heard about my two children from Mia’s mouth. “Those two? They’re both quite smart, but at that time, Caleb was starting his business, and you were busy too. You went back to work right after giving birth. Both children were raised by their grandparents, so they’re not very close to you. Hazel, during the divorce, you could have gotten 50% of the marital assets, but you signed an agreement with Caleb. You only took 20% of the assets, but Caleb had to sign a document promising not to remarry and to ensure all assets would go to the two children.” She paused for a moment and then continued, “You carried both children for ten months before giving birth. You loved them to no end, but it was useless. Both children don’t like you. That day when I went to pick you up, I saw them cursing at you, saying you did nothing but took 20% of Caleb’s assets, telling you to give it back. You stood there silently, and when they got angry, they threw glass cups at you…” Mia didn’t finish. She sighed and hugged me, “Hazel, can you not remember, please? We’re so happy like this, isn’t that good?” I nodded seriously, “Okay, I don’t want to remember either.” “But if you want to see them this weekend, you can go. You can’t avoid them forever. I’ll go with you then. No one will bully you.” I looked up at Mia and nodded. Actually, it doesn’t matter if I don’t see them. I’ve really forgotten. I just felt a bit sad when they were first mentioned, but now I don’t feel much anymore. I’m just a bit curious about what they look like.

That day, Mia accompanied me. When Caleb opened the door and saw Mia, he frowned. He probably didn’t like Mia, and of course, Mia disliked him even more. Caleb let me in but tried to block Mia outside. I was startled and immediately ran out, hiding behind Mia. I was actually a bit afraid of Caleb. Caleb was too tall, and his presence was too intimidating. The key thing was, I didn’t remember him. I held onto Mia. If Mia didn’t go in, I wouldn’t go in either. Caleb’s face darkened in an instant. “Hazel Winters, if you want to see the children today, you can only come in alone.” “Then forget it, I don’t want to see them.” I shook my head vigorously, scared to death. What kind of person was this? I pulled Mia, wanting to leave. Caleb laughed angrily. “Hazel Winters, what do you mean? Am I that scary?” Of course, he was scary. He was nearly six feet tall, big and strong. If he punched me into the wall, I wouldn’t be able to peel myself off. I was very firm, “…I’ll only go with Mia.” Caleb had a gloomy face, while Mia stared back expressionlessly. In the end, Caleb stepped aside. “Come in!” The living room of the small villa was very large. In the center sat a boy about seven or eight years old. The boy looked very much like his father, and his expression wasn’t very pleasant when he met my gaze. This must be Zack. Next to him sat a little girl, who must be Ava. The little girl followed her brother’s lead, looking at me with some curiosity. “Are you Mom?” I nodded. Ava tugged at her brother’s sleeve, “Brother, Mom is… so beautiful now!” The little boy suddenly shouted, “Shut up! Don’t call her Mom. She’s not Mom anymore. She doesn’t care about you or me. What kind of mom is that? She won’t even let Dad remarry or let us have a new mom. She’s a bad person, she’s crazy.” “…” My initial expectation dissipated in an instant. I didn’t feel as sad as I had imagined. I still couldn’t remember them. They looked familiar, but in reality, I had forgotten them completely. It felt like two somewhat familiar children were cursing at me. I wasn’t angry, just felt bored.

That day, I stayed at Caleb’s house for half a day. Zack ignored me, and Ava didn’t dare to talk to me. The most impressive thing about that day was actually how delicious the dinner at Caleb’s house was. The housekeeper at Caleb’s was also quite young. She was a girl in her twenties, very pretty, efficient, pleasing to the eye, and an excellent cook. I was thinking that this housekeeper was really good, wondering if I could poach her. Until the little housekeeper swayed her hips and insisted on feeding Caleb strawberries. Mia lowered her head and whispered to me angrily, “What a show-off! She’s the third party between you and Caleb, named Iris. She was your junior in college. With such a good education, instead of working hard to improve herself, she became his mistress. Crazy.” Mia’s words were harsh. I rubbed my nose, feeling a bit guilty. Actually, I wasn’t very ambitious either back then, and was quite lovesick too. But thinking that I couldn’t poach the housekeeper anymore, I was heartbroken. Then I promptly ladled myself another bowl of soup. Halfway through dinner, Mia suddenly received a work call. She glanced at me. The call seemed urgent, and I guessed it was probably something important. I immediately reassured her, “I’m fine. I’ll go back by myself later. You go ahead!” “Hazel, it’ll just be forty minutes. I’ll be back to pick you up in forty minutes.” Mia left in a hurry. After dinner that day, Caleb looked at Iris, and Iris tactfully took the children upstairs. Only Caleb and I were left in the living room. I looked at my watch; Mia would probably be back in about ten minutes. I was thinking, if Caleb hit me, how could I escape out the door as quickly as possible? Would my martial arts classes be useful? Probably not, considering I was only 5’7″ and quite thin. Too weak. Caleb reached out his hand, and in an instant, I ran as fast as I could. Unable to run out the door, I ran to the nearest room and locked it. I hid in the room and heard Caleb getting the keys. I was even more scared, “Don’t come in! If you come in, I’ll call the police!” Through the door, I heard Caleb’s angry voice, “Hazel Winters, what are you so afraid of? We dated for ten years and were married for seven years. Are you still afraid I’ll hit you?”

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Melissa sacrificed everything for Adonis, taking the blame for his crime to secure his rise as Alpha. “I’ll marry you,” he had promised. “You’ll be my Luna.” But three years in prison left her with nothing but his cold rejection. “For the good of the pack, you’ll stay hidden,” Adonis said flatly, his eyes void of the warmth she once knew. “The ceremony will proceed with a stand-in Luna. You should understand.” On the day of the Luna wedding, locked away in a lavish room, Melissa overheard mocking laughter outside. “She’s so devoted,” a groomsman jeered. “Adonis could ask her to disappear, and she’d thank him!” Fury ignited her. She broke free, storming into the grand hall just as the vows began. “Melissa!” Adonis roared, striding toward her. “Stop this madness! We ended years ago. Don’t degrade yourself like this!” He turned to the pack, his voice cutting. “She’s nothing but a desperate ex, clinging to the past. Ignore her.” Wine splashed across her dress, mocking laughter filling the room. Just as Melissa faltered, a deep voice silenced the chaos. “Melissa,” it growled, smooth and commanding. The crowd parted as Lucas, the Alpha of the Stone Pack, stepped forward. “She’s everything you never deserved,”

Three years ago, Adonis was at the pinnacle of his rise to Alpha—his moment, his glory. But in one cruel twist of fate, everything shattered. A car accident that should have ruined him. But instead, he begged me—begged me to take the fall. “Mellisa, please. You’re the only one who can save me. Take the blame, for the pack, for everything I’ve worked for.” His eyes were desperate, pleading. “I’ll owe you forever. This is the only way.” And I believed him. I believed in him. I sacrificed my life for his—my freedom, my future, everything—just to protect him. He promised me that when he became Alpha, everything would change. That he would make it up to me. But now… now, I had learned the truth. The day I finally walked out of that prison cell, the weight of years spent in darkness lifting from my shoulders, I learned that today wasn’t just any day. Today was the day he would choose his Luna. The ceremony The moment I stepped into the grand hotel, the air thick with tension, I felt the weight of everything I had sacrificed for Adonis. I was here, not as a guest, but as a woman who had given up her life for him—my life, my freedom. But fate had other plans. Before I could even take another step, I collided with him—Adonis. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and in that instant, everything in the world seemed to freeze. “Mellisa?” Cole, his beta, narrowed his eyes, looking me up and down with a disdainful sneer. He turned to Adonis, voice sharp with ridicule. “She showed up like this? You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s not here to ruin the ceremony, is she?” Adonis’ gaze flickered between Cole and me, his jaw clenched tight, his expression a cocktail of shock and fury. Before I could even catch my breath, he grabbed my arm and yanked me into a shadowed corner, the heat of his rage radiating off him. “What the hell are you doing, Mellisa?” His voice was low, but the venom dripping from each word felt like a blade pressed to my skin. “I promised you we’d stay bonded in secret. You swore you’d stay out of sight!” His grip on my wrist tightened painfully, and his breath seared my skin as he pulled me closer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Mellisa?” Adonis hissed, his voice low but laced with fury. Before I could answer, Cole, standing off to the side, flicked his cigarette and let a cloud of smoke spill between us. “Come on, Mellisa,” he sneered, taking a slow drag. “You’re lucky Adonis even agreed to keep that pathetic bond a secret. An ex-con like you should know your place.” My chest tightened, but I forced my voice steady, my glare never leaving him. “Lucky? Do you think taking the fall for his crime was some grand privilege? I spent years rotting away while he lived his life.” Their laughter echoed through the hallway, sharp and cruel. Adonis’s eyes flicked from Cole to me, his face contorting in frustration. “Mellisa, let it go. You think you’re the victim here? I’ve given you everything—everything! And you still can’t be grateful for what I did!” Cole grinned wider, his eyes glinting with malice. “Mellisa, let’s be real here. While you were in prison, living the ‘easy life,’ Adonis took care of the pack, kept everything running smoothly. He even made sure you didn’t have to deal with this whole Luna ceremony, found himself a stand-in because he knew you hated the spotlight. If I were you, I’d be worshipping the ground he walks on.” “Worship?” I laughed, bitterly. “Is that what you call loyalty now? A handout? A secret bond that means nothing but keeps me tied to your filthy lies?” Adonis’s eyes flickered with rage. “Enough, Mellisa. Go home. Stop making a damn spectacle of yourself. This is not your place anymore.” “And why the hell should I?” I snapped, my voice trembling with rage. “You want me to be grateful? That being locked away for your ambitions was some kind of blessing?” Adonis’s face went from flushed with embarrassment to cold with fury. His voice dropped dangerously low. “You’re ruining everything, Mellisa!” he hissed. “Do you have any idea what this could cost me?” Cole, smirking, stepped closer, cigarette dangling from his lips. The smoke hit my lungs like a slap, choking me. “Face it, Mellisa,” he sneered. “If I were a woman, I wouldn’t let this chance slip through my fingers. You don’t even know how lucky you are.” The others around him laughed mockingly, their voices dripping with disdain. The smoke thickened, burning my eyes. I could feel my throat tightening as I fought to breathe, and tears sprang to my eyes. I turned to Adonis, every ounce of the man I once loved slipping away from me. “Is this what you’ve become, Adonis? Someone who thinks using me was my ‘good fortune’?” My voice cracked with the betrayal that seethed beneath every word. Adonis flinched, guilt flickering in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant. His face hardened, and his voice turned icy. “Enough,” he barked. “You’ve had your say. Now, get out.” I stood there, the words choking in my throat, as his men snickered. Tears fell, but I wiped them away. “Keep your title. Keep your fake Luna. But remember this,” “When your world falls apart, I’ll be the one laughing.” As his men jeered and taunted, I turned on my heel, the sting of their laughter following me.

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My mother was stunningly beautiful. But during the years my father was abroad, she was long abused by another man. On the day my father returned home, he accidentally discovered this. I thought he would be shocked, enraged. Instead, he simply closed the bedroom door quietly. Coldly locking my mother’s humiliation and tears behind that door. Mother’s body was discovered by the maid the next morning. Sinking to the bottom of the crystal-clear swimming pool. It took quite an effort to retrieve her, as a huge rock was tied to her body. The corpse was laid out by the pool. Her white dress was stained with blood, all crumpled. Burns, whip marks, and rope burns covered her entire body. The wounds were soggy, the flesh turned over and blurred, a horrifying sight. I saw that terrifying scene from afar and turned to bury my face in my nanny Rose’s embrace. She gently patted my back: “Don’t be afraid, Miss. That’s your mother.” “That’s not my mother!” I cried urgently. “I don’t want such a scary mother. You’re my mother!” Rose smiled gently: “Alright, alright, good girl, don’t cry.” As she carried me away, she said: “What a sin. With such a heavy stone tied to her body, she really didn’t want to live anymore.” I looked over Rose’s shoulder, staring fixedly at my motionless mother on the ground. How could such a delicate and beautiful person turn into a pile of rotting flesh in the blink of an eye? She had given me a sweet kiss just last night. The soft lamplight outlined my mother’s graceful silhouette as she leaned down and, for the first time ever, placed a goodnight kiss on my cheek. It was the first time I saw a glimmer of light in her beautiful but vacant eyes. It was also the first time I received a kiss from my mother. She turned off the lamp and left, but I was too happy to fall asleep. In the middle of the night, I vaguely heard a woman’s muffled sobs from outside the door. It sounded like Mother. So I got out of bed barefoot, following the sound along the dark hallway towards my grandfather’s bedroom. To my surprise, my father, who had just returned earlier that day, was standing at the bedroom door. “Robert…” Mother’s trembling cry came from the crack in the door. “Save me…” In the darkness, Father’s back was ramrod straight. I thought this was a sign of his anger about to explode. But he just slowly raised his hand and gently locked the door. … That year, I was six years old. The same age as when Grandfather George brought Mother and me home from the orphanage. That year, I didn’t understand what Grandfather and Father had done to Mother. But I knew Mother was dead. The only person in this world who loved me was gone.

Suddenly, many construction crews entered the estate. Rose said the swimming pool where Mother died was to be turned into a flower garden, on Grandfather’s orders. She also said all the ponds and shallow depressions on the hundred-acre estate were to be filled in, leaving not a single body of water deeper than an ankle. I was just a six-year-old child. Hearing that Grandpa wanted to build a flower garden, I couldn’t help but feel a bit happy. Rose pinched my nose and asked with a smile: “Your mother just passed away like that. In life, she was the lady of the Turner family, but in death, she didn’t even get a funeral.” “No coffin, no grave, and no one will remember her in the future.” “Aren’t you sad at all?” I asked innocently in return: “Why should I be sad?” “You raised me. I don’t recognize that crazy woman as my mother.” Mother was crazy. —I had heard this more than once from the servants, including Rose. Mother was spotted by the wealthy George Turner when she was six years old and became his child bride. After coming of age, she married the third young master, Robert. Two years later, Robert went to France to study. After that, Mother became mentally unstable. During the day, she would arrange flowers, read books, and brew coffee, looking ethereally beautiful, breathtaking to behold. But when night fell, she became a different person. She would cry, get angry, and smash things for no reason. I once tried to approach her, but she pointed a knife at me and yelled: “Filthy thing, don’t come near me, get away!” No one could control the young mistress when she went crazy, except for the Turner family patriarch, George. When Grandfather returned home late from social engagements, he would carry the out-of-control Mother into his bedroom. Once the door closed, it would be for the whole night… I didn’t know how Grandfather “comforted” Mother, but the next morning, she would be docile beyond belief. This cycle repeated day after day. Until recently, when a letter arrived saying Father would soon return from abroad, Mother’s mental illness suddenly improved, and she became radiant. She waited eagerly for a full month before Father finally returned in his suit. Mother had waited for her savior, but it couldn’t change her fate. That night after dinner, Grandfather still led Mother into his bedroom—right in front of Father, me, and all the servants. That night, she had desperately sought help from Father. But Father’s indifference extinguished her hope of survival. And so she hastily ended her short life. George Turner’s renovation of the garden at this time was nothing more than an attempt to bury Mother’s remains on the spot. They wanted to cover up Mother’s death. How could I let them get away with it? While everyone was busy, I secretly instructed Leo, the son of a servant, to sneak out and report to the police. Leo was the same age as me and could come and go freely without anyone noticing him. I waited anxiously at home. As it was getting dark, the police really came, and it was even a chief. Leo was brought before Father Robert with his hands tied behind his back. Father politely shook hands with the chief: “This child needs discipline. He filed a false police report. I’m sorry for the trouble, Chief Johnson.” Leo struggled a bit and shouted defiantly: “I didn’t file a false report! The young mistress really did die! I saw it with my own eyes!” “Tired of living!” Robert kicked Leo, then took out a thick stack of bills from his suit’s inner pocket. Chief Johnson accepted it, smiling from ear to ear. “No worries, Mr. Turner. If you encounter any trouble in the future, just let me know.” A young police officer suddenly interjected: “Sir, I noticed some suspicious traces around the pool. May I investigate further?” “Have you lost your mind!” Chief Johnson knocked the officer’s head hard, “Don’t you know whose estate this is? How dare you investigate casually?” Hidden behind a beaded curtain, I witnessed this entire process of collusion between officials and businessmen, and I remembered the face of that young police officer. As they were about to get in the police car, I ran out of the house and smiled as I handed candy to Chief Johnson: “Uncle, you’re so impressive. This is chocolate my father brought back from France. Please try some.” Robert patted my head approvingly, and Chief Johnson happily accepted the candy. The young police officer stared at me for a few seconds, then pulled me over and asked seriously: “You’re the Turner family’s young miss, right? Did something really happen to your mother?” His eyes were frighteningly bright. I grinned at him: “Uncle, have some candy.”

After the police left, Father interrogated Leo: “Tell me, who put you up to this?” Leo gritted his teeth and said: “No one put me up to it.” Father waved his hand, and the servants dragged Leo to the outer courtyard. Soon after, the sound of punches and kicks mixed with Leo’s wails echoed in the courtyard. I had been raised on the estate since childhood and had no friends. Only Leo, who was the same age as me, was willing to play with me. I cried and begged Father not to beat him, but Father coldly pushed me away. I rushed into the courtyard, trying to shield Leo with my small body, but Rose forcibly carried me back into the house. A boy not yet seven years old was beaten to death like this. Two young lives, gone just like that. Just because they were born humble, their lives were as cheap as grass. This resentment pressed on my chest, enough to make a child breathless, and enough to make a child grow up in an instant. The swimming pool was filled in. Many blooming flowers were transplanted to the estate. The hundred-acre estate became even more beautiful than when Mother was alive. After Leo was beaten to death in public, no servant dared to mention Mother’s matter again. Mother disappeared from this world without a sound, without a trace, as if she had never existed. In the blink of an eye, another six years passed. I learned to hide my hatred and learned how to survive in the Turner family. One day when I was twelve, I was alone in the flower garden, fiddling with the white chrysanthemums that Mother loved most in life. Suddenly, I overheard a conversation between Rose and Father. “I’ve been with you for ten years now. When are you going to give me a proper status?” Ten years? It turned out that even before Mother passed away, someone had already coveted the position of the Turner family’s mistress. Father pinched Rose’s fat bottom: “Tonight, okay?” This scene stung my eyes. It seems that being two-faced is a hereditary skill of Turner men. Soon after, I really did have a new mother. Rose, having turned her fate around, became the mistress, her triumphant expression obvious. Even her tone when speaking to me was no longer as gentle and patient as before. She eagerly took possession of Mother’s jewelry and even secretly wore Mother’s clothes, forcibly squeezing her stout body into the form-fitting dresses. When the dress split, she angrily tore the entire wardrobe of dresses to shreds. I happened to see it and wanted nothing more than to tear her to shreds as well. But a second before she noticed me, I quickly suppressed my hatred and hugged Rose’s thick waist like I used to when I was little. “Aunt Rose’s tummy has so much meat, it’s so soft and comfortable. Not like my mother who died early, she was like a willow branch, trembling in the slightest breeze.” Rose, upon hearing this, suddenly pushed me away, put on her loose clothes, and stormed off in a huff. At dinner, I deliberately put oily braised pork in Rose’s bowl. “Aunt Rose, this is delicious.” Rose swallowed: “I’m not eating it.” Father glanced at her: “No appetite?” I laughed out loud: “Aunt Rose burst Mother’s dress today, her butt was showing. Auntie must not be eating meat because of this, haha!” Father glared at me: “How can a young lady speak so rudely?” Grandfather hurried to support me: “A child her age is straightforward. Why bother arguing with her?” I stuck out my tongue playfully. But as soon as I said that, everyone unconsciously glanced at Rose… and the fat around her waist. Rose’s face, which wasn’t very fair to begin with, became even darker, but she didn’t dare lash out at me because of George’s presence. Seeing her frustrated look, my appetite grew, and I didn’t forget to sweetly please Grandfather. “Grandpa, have some vegetables.” George was so happy that he drank a few more glasses of wine. When I was sending him back to his room to rest, he suddenly grabbed my hand. Staring blankly at my face, he murmured softly: “Yvonne…” I froze. Yvonne had become a taboo word in the Turner family over the years. If George hadn’t suddenly mentioned it, people might have forgotten that it was my mother’s name.

“Grandpa, I’m Fiona, your darling granddaughter.” George came to his senses: “Fiona has grown up. Grandpa is old now, my eyes are failing me.” I giggled coquettishly, casually withdrawing my hand. Back in my own room, I pulled out an old photograph hidden in a secret compartment of my wardrobe. On the yellowed photo paper, a young woman was holding a baby in swaddling clothes, smiling serenely and happily at the camera. It was a photo taken on my full-month birthday, and the only photo of me and Mother together. At that time, Mother was still immersed in false happiness, her smile untainted. Rose had once told me some old stories about Mother. Mother was malnourished as a child and had a weak constitution. She nearly lost her life due to massive bleeding when giving birth to me. Because of her postpartum weakness, she could hardly produce any milk. And I was a particularly greedy baby, often sucking Mother until she bled, refusing to let go even then. To avoid starving me, Mother carefully selected Rose from among a hundred wet nurses. Rose told me these things intending to boast about herself. But what I cared about was how difficult it was for Mother to give birth to me, and how much it hurt when I sucked her raw. My thoughts returned to the present. My gaze slowly moved from the photo to the dressing table mirror. I hadn’t noticed that I was looking more and more like Mother. Looking at that overly delicate face in the mirror, only twelve years old. Thinking of the way Grandfather held my hand and called me “Yvonne.” I finally understood what Grandfather had done to Mother every night during those years Father was abroad.

Rose was determined to lose weight. At first, she just didn’t eat rice at each meal. Later, it evolved into not eating anything after noon each day. She did visibly lose weight, but her originally rosy and healthy complexion also turned sallow. But I thought this wasn’t enough. So I deliberately provoked her by buying posters of popular movie stars and bringing them home. I would say in front of her: “Aunt Rose, look, why are these celebrities all so slim nowadays? Do they not eat or drink at all?” Hearing this, Rose really stopped eating and drinking. Half a year later, Rose was transformed, having developed a waistline. I exaggeratedly exclaimed to the sallow and thin Rose: “Aunt Rose, did you secretly take diet pills? You’re even more beautiful than movie stars!” Rose became overconfident and intensified her dieting, almost to the point of fasting. At one dinner, Rose only chewed a few lettuce leaves before saying she was full. Robert asked: “Have you been feeling unwell lately?” “No, I’m fine.” “You’ve lost so much weight, and your appetite is so poor. Are you sick?” “You’re the one who’s sick!” Rose’s face darkened, and she put down her chopsticks. In the past, Rose wouldn’t have dared to speak loudly to Robert. Father looked at Rose in disbelief: “Have you gone mad?!” “I said I’m full, I’m full. Why do you suspect I’m sick?” Rose completely lost control of her emotions and started yelling. Robert, after all, was the young master and had never been yelled at by a woman before. He raised his hand and slapped Rose. Rose was stunned by the slap. I really wanted to continue watching the show, but I heard George’s car driving into the courtyard, so I had to quickly join the act. “Father, Aunt Rose doesn’t want to eat much because she’s afraid of getting fat. Isn’t it normal to want to look beautiful?” I smiled, smoothing things over, and added a large bowl of rice to Rose’s bowl, packing it down firmly. “Aunt Rose, you’re too thin. It’s okay to eat a proper meal occasionally.” George walked into the dining room just in time to see this thoughtful and caring side of me. “Grandpa, you’re back so early? We thought you wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight.” I enthusiastically welcomed Grandfather to the dining table. “My sweet Fiona, Grandpa missed you, so I canceled my social engagements to come back and have dinner with you.” The family started eating again. Rose stared at the rice hesitantly for a moment, then began shoveling it into her mouth like a starving dog. During the meal, I chatted wittily, making Grandfather laugh heartily. Rose, however, didn’t seem to be feeling so well, as I heard her retching in the bathroom. “Father, is Aunt Rose pregnant?” I mischievously winked. “Is that so?” Robert got up and walked towards the bathroom. As soon as he opened the bathroom door, he saw Rose kneeling by the toilet, using chopsticks to make herself vomit. There was filth everywhere. “Oh!” I covered my mouth dramatically. “You crazy woman!” Robert cursed in disgust and slammed the door shut. Crazy woman. Six years ago, people had talked about my mother the same way. Now, it was Rose’s turn. Looking at the shocked and disheveled Rose, I fanned my nose: “How disgusting.”

At sixteen, I was of college age. I pleaded with George, holding his hand: “Grandpa, all my classmates are going to college. I want to go too!” George looked at me indulgently, his eyes revealing emotions that were clearly more than just a grandfather looking at his granddaughter. “Fiona, how can other people’s children compare to you?” “If you want to learn something, can’t Grandpa just invite teachers to teach you at home?” He wanted to keep me caged, just like Mother had been years ago. “What can I learn at home? Those teachers you hire only teach simple things. The professors at university are ones you can’t hire even with money!” I pretended to be angry and shook off George’s hand. “Grandpa doesn’t really love me.” “Oh, my precious darling!” George wrapped his old hand around my shoulder, “Grandpa promises you, whatever you want, Grandpa will give you!” At the same tender age. Mother chose to get married, while I chose to go to school. I majored in medicine. The medical knowledge I had accumulated since childhood, combined with cutting-edge Western medical theories, led to a qualitative leap in my understanding. I also found an internship at a private clinic through a professor. When I didn’t have classes at school, I would help out at the clinic. One day, I saw a familiar figure sneaking into the consultation room. I put on a mask and followed, peeking through the door crack. It really was Rose. “Doctor,” Rose said, “I haven’t had my period for a long time.” The doctor adjusted his glasses: “How long?” “Six months.” “Are you pregnant?” “That’s the problem…” Rose said embarrassedly: “I don’t seem to be pregnant, but…” How could she keep her period when she wasn’t eating to lose weight? “Lie down and let me take a look.” The doctor examined her while asking: “You’re married, right?” “Yes.” “Have you had children before?” “No.” I was suddenly shocked. Never had children? Then how did she breastfeed me before?

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## My mom is what you’d call an enabler—especially when it comes to her brother. She’d rather let our family go hungry, scraping together pennies for a meal, just so she could send money to her precious brother. When she found out I’d won $5 million in the lottery, her first reaction wasn’t excitement for me or relief for our struggles. Nope. Her immediate thought was to use the money to help her dear brother buy a house and a car. “Your uncle’s son is getting older, and his girlfriend said she won’t marry him unless they have a house. Since you won the lottery, just give them the money. It’s the right thing to do.” The kicker? My mom said this while we were still living in a rented apartment. In my last life, she didn’t even bother asking me. She secretly gave the money to my uncle behind my back. Then, I got sick—a serious illness that required urgent treatment. We needed money fast, so I went to my uncle and begged him to return what he owed. But he slammed the door in my face, saying, “That money was a gift from your mom. It’s mine now.” In the end, because I couldn’t afford the surgery, I died in a hospital bed. At my funeral, my mom stood by my gravestone, sighing. “Well, you were just a girl. Girls are always someone else’s responsibility. Even if you’d kept the money, it would’ve been wasted on you.” Now, I wake up to find myself back on the day I discovered I’d won the lottery. This time, things are going to be different. ###

“Hey, sweetheart, there’s no food left in the house. Do you think you could ask your boss for an advance? Or maybe borrow some money from a friend?” I jolted back to reality, snapping out of my daze. My mom was sitting in the living room, her face full of worry, glancing at me expectantly. The scene felt eerily familiar—exactly how it had played out in my previous life. Without thinking, I shoved my hand into my pocket, gripping tightly onto the lottery ticket that was about to change my life. I opened my mouth, but instead of saying what I had before, I chose a new approach. “Mom, didn’t I just send you $500 a few days ago?” Her expression stiffened for a moment, but she quickly covered it up with a sigh. “Oh, well, your cousin said he wanted a new phone, but he didn’t have enough money, so I helped him out a bit.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly on the inside. I was still using my cousin’s old hand-me-down phone, one so slow that it took a full minute just to open an app. Meanwhile, my cousin, decked out in designer clothes, always seemed to be living far better than us. But none of that mattered to my mom—she lived to serve her family, always ready to hand over money. I feigned a troubled expression and walked into the kitchen. Opening the rice bin, I found it almost completely empty—just a few stray grains rattling around at the bottom. “Mom, the money I sent you was everything I had. Last month, you said Uncle’s family had an emergency, so I gave you my entire $1,000 savings to help them. I don’t have anything left.” At that moment, my mom’s stomach growled audibly, and her face clouded over with even more worry. I glanced at the clock, then grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. “Why don’t you go have dinner at Uncle’s house? It’s almost dinnertime anyway, and you can help Auntie cook while you’re there.” I rolled her electric scooter out of the garage and handed it to her. “I have to head to work—my boss just called me in to cover a shift.” She hesitated, looking back at me. “You really think it’s okay for me to go over there uninvited? Your aunt doesn’t exactly like me, you know.” I almost laughed out loud at the irony of her words. She *knew* Auntie didn’t like her, but that had never stopped her from bending over backward for them—sending them money, groceries, and even doing their housework. “It’s fine. Didn’t my cousin say the other day that he was craving your sweet and sour ribs?” Her face lit up just as I’d expected. “You’re right! I should go buy some ribs. I’ll get extra—little Mikey eats a lot.” She paused, realizing she’d said too much, then quickly hopped on her scooter and sped off. “I’ll head over now. Oh, and you should think about picking up a part-time job to earn a little extra cash!” I stood there, watching her ride away, her words still ringing in my ears. She cried poor to me, but all her money went to my uncle’s family. She didn’t even bother to ask if *I* had enough to eat or pay my bills. I worked late nights, often until 1 or 2 a.m., but it was never enough for her. Shaking my head, I went back inside, changed into a fresh set of clothes, and grabbed my hat and sunglasses. It was time to cash in my winning lottery ticket. — ###

In my previous life, I never understood my mom’s true nature. I kept telling myself that if I worked harder, achieved more, and treated her better, she’d finally see my worth and love me the way I wanted to be loved. So back then, the moment I realized I’d won the lottery, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I ran straight to her and blurted it out. “Mom, forget about buying rice! I’m taking you out for a fancy dinner. Guess what? I won the lottery—$5 million! We’ll never have to worry about money again!” She was overjoyed, but her first words weren’t about us. “That’s amazing! Now your cousin can finally get married. The girl’s family said they won’t approve unless he has a house and a car. Your uncle’s been so stressed about it.” She didn’t even pause to think. “I need to call your uncle and tell him the good news!” Her words made me freeze. I grabbed her arm, confused and angry. “Mom, this is *my* money. What does Uncle’s family have to do with it?” She looked at me, disappointed, as if I were the one being unreasonable. “Your uncle is my only sibling. When I’m gone, your cousin is the one who’ll take care of you. Don’t you want to build a good relationship with him?” Her logic made no sense to me. I was supposed to sacrifice my future for some vague promise of care from my cousin? I refused, but I had no idea she’d already made up her mind. Behind my back, she stole the winning ticket and gave it to my uncle. Uncle cashed it in, and his family took the entire $5 million for themselves. When I confronted them, my uncle laughed in my face. “That money? Your mom *gave* it to me. It’s mine now. Don’t even think about asking for it back.” When my health started failing and I needed surgery, I begged my uncle for help. He refused outright. “I don’t have money for that,” he said bluntly. “My wife’s pregnant, and raising a kid is expensive. Besides, your condition sounds serious. Why waste money on a lost cause?” When I brought up the lottery money, he got angry and hung up on me. “That was *your mom’s* gift to me. It’s got nothing to do with you!” When my mom found out, she scolded me for being selfish. “Your uncle has his own problems. You need to stop thinking about money and start valuing family.” In the end, I died at just 26, unable to afford the surgery I needed. At my funeral, my mom barely shed a tear. She stood by my grave and muttered, “You can’t blame me for this. You’re a girl—girls are meant to marry out. It’s not like the money would’ve done you any good.” I hated her with every fiber of my being. Now, I’ve been given a second chance. This time, I won’t let her control me. If she’s so desperate to sacrifice everything for her brother, she can go right ahead. But she’ll do it without me. ###

I didn’t tell anyone about winning the lottery. Instead, I disguised myself completely—baggy clothes, a mask, sunglasses, and even a new hairstyle. I made sure no one could recognize me before heading to the lottery office. I declined all interviews with reporters, paid the taxes, and soon after, $4 million landed in my bank account. Staring at all those zeros on the screen, I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t even speak. In my previous life, after finding out I’d won, I dreamed of countless ways to improve my life. But not a single one of those dreams came true. I still lived the same miserable existence—squeezing onto crowded buses every day to save money, refusing to buy even a bottle of water when I was thirsty. My boss and coworkers constantly picked on me, humiliating me at every turn. Even when I was burning up with a 102°F fever, I had to stay up late working overtime to finish reports. Meanwhile, my uncle and aunt lived like royalty, using *my* money to buy a house, drive luxury cars, and feast on the best food while traveling the world. My cousin posted pictures on social media, showing off his designer watch or the emblem of his sports car, captioned with: *”Who can understand the loneliness of someone like me?”* Well, now it’s my turn to experience the “loneliness of the rich.” — ###

The first thing I did after getting the money was schedule a full medical checkup. I wanted to make sure I was healthy. The results would take three days to process. After leaving the hospital, I decided to treat myself to a nice meal at a restaurant. Originally, I wanted to order everything I’d been too frugal to buy before—all the dishes I’d only dreamed of. But my years of penny-pinching had become second nature, and in the end, I only ordered two modest dishes. It didn’t matter, though. I had plenty of money now, and plenty of time. I could take my time savoring life’s luxuries. As the sky darkened and the clock neared 9 p.m., I noticed my phone had ten missed calls from my mom. Finally, I stood up and started heading home. On my way back, I stopped by a street vendor selling stir-fried noodles. I bought a box, stirred it up with my chopsticks, and threw half of it in the trash. “Forgive me,” I muttered under my breath, “but sacrifices must be made.” Then I carried the remaining half home. When I walked in, my mom was sitting in the living room, her face stormy with anger. The moment she saw me, she grabbed the ashtray from the table and hurled it at me, shouting furiously. “Do you even remember you have a home? I’m starving to death here, and you’re out doing who-knows-what!” I sidestepped the ashtray and held out the half-eaten box of noodles like a peace offering. Smiling apologetically, I said, “Sorry, Mom. My boss made me work overtime, and I couldn’t check my phone.” “This is the dinner my boss bought me. I saved most of it for you. There’s even some meat left in there.” Her mood flipped faster than a switch. She snatched the box from my hands, tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m such a useless mother,” she sobbed. “I can’t do anything for you. I have to rely on you to feed me. I might as well just die.” This didn’t happen in my previous life. But I knew this routine all too well. Four years ago, she’d pulled the same stunt to get me to quit my high-paying job in the city and move back to this small, dead-end town as a lowly office clerk. “Mom’s getting old,” she’d said back then, crying. “I don’t know how many years I have left. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can before I go.” Now, watching her put on the same performance, I felt a wave of wariness wash over me. But I played along, wiping my eyes dramatically. “Mom, don’t say that. Without you, this house wouldn’t feel like home. If you weren’t here, what would be the point of my life?” She sniffled, dabbing at her tears, and I mimicked her, sniffling even louder. Crying? Two could play at that game. When she finally caught her breath, she said, “Your aunt found you a potential match. I’ve already met him—he’s honest, hardworking, and a good guy. Why don’t you pick a date to get the marriage license?” She paused to sigh deeply, her voice tinged with longing. “My biggest wish is to see you get married and have kids.” And there it was. The real reason behind all this drama. I knew exactly who this “match” was. A 38-year-old divorced man with two kids—one of whom was about to graduate high school. His hairline was a proud homage to the “horseshoe” look, his face looked like it had survived a warzone, and his attitude reeked of a self-proclaimed patriarch. He was a Jacktic mix of styles, leaving his overall vibe a complete mystery. When I saw his picture for the first time, I honestly thought my aunt had found a new husband for *herself.* And yet, my mom still had the audacity to call this guy a “good catch”? Of course, it wasn’t about me. It was about the $20,000 dowry he’d promised her. ###

My cousin has been in a relationship for three years now. He’s turning 29 this year, and with 30 looming on the horizon, his entire family is in panic mode. My mom, of course, has joined the frenzy. If you didn’t know better, you’d think *he* was her son. The girlfriend’s family laid out their requirements: a fully paid, move-in-ready house with her name on the deed, a BMW, and a $70,000 cash dowry. My uncle’s family couldn’t come up with anywhere near that amount of money, so naturally, my mom turned her sights on me. Even $20,000 wouldn’t make much of a dent in their demands, but to her, every little bit helped. I knew her game plan inside and out. She was still rambling on about what a “great guy” my cousin was, even pulling out pictures to show me. I couldn’t bear to look and turned away, suddenly standing up and grabbing her hands. “Mom,” I said seriously, “I support you. Dad’s been gone for years, and I’m not the type of kid to stand in your way. If you like this man, then I think you should go for it. Move in with him, and you’ll even have his two kids to look after. It’ll give you something to do.” My mom froze like a jammed machine, her words cutting off mid-sentence. Her face turned red as she stammered, “W-what are you talking about? This isn’t for me! It’s for you!” I stared at her in disbelief. “This guy’s old enough to be my dad!” She avoided my eyes, wiping imaginary tears as she slumped onto the couch and started her usual sob story. “Your dad’s gone. The only family I have left is your uncle. When I was a kid and had nothing to eat, it was your uncle who gave me half a piece of bread and saved my life. Now that he’s in trouble, how could I not help him?” She sniffled dramatically. “It’s all my fault. I’m useless. What’s the point of me even being alive? I’m just a burden to you, and I can’t even help little Mikey. I should just die!” I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. “Mom, stop crying. I’ll go borrow money to help Mikey get married.” Her eyes widened in shock. “Sweetheart… that’s not what I meant.” But inside, I was laughing coldly. *Not what you meant? Then what was it? You’re practically selling off your own daughter to fund his wedding.* “Mom, you don’t have to say anything. I get it.” “I don’t have any other family. When I get married and move out, I’ll need Uncle’s family to have my back. Mikey is like a big brother to me, and if he’s in trouble, it’s my duty to help him, no matter what it costs me.” My mom’s face softened as tears welled up in her eyes. For the first time, she reached out and held my hand. “You’ve grown up, sweetheart. You finally understand the sacrifices I’ve made for this family.” I couldn’t stand looking at her fake, pitiful expression any longer. The very next day, I told her I was going on a work trip and moved out of the house entirely. I wired $20,000 to Mikey, who called me personally to thank me. “Nancy, you’re the best. With a sister like you, I’m so lucky. Don’t worry—when I’m doing well, I’ll make sure to take care of you.” Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he added, “By the way, could you lend me a little more? My fiancée says she wants a nicer car. Nothing too crazy—just another $50,000 should do it.” Feigning hesitation, I told him I’d check my finances and get back to him. A few hours later, I wired him another $50,000. On the phone, he was over the moon, showering me with compliments. My mom, overhearing the call, chimed in, saying I was the best daughter in the world. Neither of them seemed remotely concerned about how I’d repay the $70,000 I’d borrowed. I watched them from afar, their faces glowing with excitement and greed. Go ahead, enjoy yourselves. It won’t be long before you realize the price you’ll have to pay.

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### In my previous life, my wife attended her childhood best friend’s wedding. On her way back, she decided to race down the highway, pushing her car to its limits. The result? A massive pile-up that left four people dead and one severely injured. When the police called to inform me, I raced to the crash site. The scene was chaos—flames roaring into the night sky, the air thick with smoke and the sound of sirens, distant wailing, and panicked shouting. I waited there for an excruciating 24 hours as the responders worked to clear the wreckage. Finally, a detective approached me, his expression heavy with regret. “We couldn’t recover your wife’s body,” he said. “It’s likely she was consumed by the fire.” For the funeral, I had nothing but a handful of scorched debris to place in her urn. But even before I could arrange a proper service, the families of the victims were at my doorstep, demanding answers. In the blink of an eye, I wasn’t just a grieving husband—I was the man responsible for four lives lost. Four lives and millions in damages that I had no way of paying. Desperation took over. To appease the victims’ families and buy their forgiveness, I threw myself into work. From the age of 30 to 48—eighteen long years—I worked nonstop, pouring every ounce of energy into paying off the compensation. Finally, I cleared all the debts. Finally, the families of the victims forgave me. But by then, my body had given out. Overworked and exhausted, I suffered a stroke that left me bedridden, spending my remaining days confined to a hospital room. And then, just as I thought my suffering couldn’t get any worse, I saw her. My wife. The same wife who had “died” in that fiery crash eighteen years ago. She was standing in the hospital corridor with her childhood best friend—the one whose wedding she’d attended—and a young boy who looked just like her. They were laughing, cheerful, the picture of a happy family. I stared, my mind reeling as the truth hit me like a freight train. The accident. The deaths. The debt. My ruined health. It was all a lie. She had faked her death. All these years, I had been nothing more than a pawn in her twisted game. Rage consumed me. Blood rose in my throat, and I collapsed, choking on it. I died right there, in that cold, sterile hospital room, my vision fading to black with the sound of their laughter echoing in my ears. But when I opened my eyes again, something was different. I wasn’t lying in a hospital bed anymore. I was back. Back on the day of the crash. The day everything began. 0

“Hello, is this Mr. Ryan Chase? This is Officer Daniels from the Highway Patrol. Your wife was involved in a serious accident on the interstate. Please come to the scene as soon as possible.” The officer’s heavy voice echoed in my ear, and I froze for a moment. “Sir? Are you still there?” The officer repeated my name a few more times before I snapped out of it. Memories from my previous life came flooding back like a reel of film. In my past life, I had received this exact same call. I had rushed to the crash site, panic-stricken, only to be greeted by a scene of devastating fire and chaos. I’d cried until my throat was raw, only to find that there was no body to recover. My wife’s remains had been declared destroyed in the blaze. I blamed myself for years, haunted by guilt and sorrow. But in the end, I discovered the truth: her body wasn’t missing because she died in the crash. No, she was alive. She had orchestrated the entire thing to fake her death, steal my money, and run off with her lover. Not this time. This time, I won’t let those two snakes get away with it. I hung up the phone and immediately contacted my lawyer, explaining the situation in detail. To unravel this scheme, I’d need to: Prove my wife, Lily, is still alive. Gather evidence of her cheating so I can protect my assets in the divorce. Hold her accountable for fleeing the scene of an accident that killed four people and injured one. That alone would land her in prison for years. Taking a deep breath, I steadied my emotions. Just as I was about to leave, the front door flew open. Lily’s mother stormed in and threw herself into my arms, sobbing dramatically. “Ryan! Did you see the news? Did the police call you too?” Her voice cracked as she wailed, “What am I going to do? She’s my only daughter! If something happens to her, how will I go on?” In my previous life, this scene had played out exactly the same way. Back then, I had spent hours comforting her, reassuring her that everything would be okay. Looking back now, it was all so ridiculous. What kind of mother cries her heart out but doesn’t shed a single tear? If I hadn’t been so blinded by grief, I might’ve noticed the cracks in her performance. She already knew Lily was fine. She even knew about Lily’s affair. This whole family was rotten to the core. Just thinking about them made me sick. They had lived off me for years, eating my food, drinking my wine, and now they wanted to take everything I had. Not this time. “Ryan, why are you so calm? Lily was in a car accident!” I raised an eyebrow. “The police haven’t confirmed anything yet. Why do you sound so certain that Lily… didn’t make it?” 0

“Are you telling me you somehow know more than the police?” Lily’s mother froze for a moment, her expression betraying a flicker of guilt before she quickly plastered on a defensive look. “I’m just worried!” she snapped, then immediately turned the blame on me, raising her voice. “Ryan, what are you trying to say? Are you hoping my daughter’s dead or something?” “How could you let her drive back to her hometown alone? You’re her husband! Isn’t it your job to keep her safe?” Her words brought back memories of the argument Lily and I had before she left. She had insisted on driving back to her childhood friend’s wedding, even though I told her it wasn’t a good idea. I was swamped with work, trying to finalize a deal with a major client, so I suggested we send a gift instead and visit her hometown together later—maybe even bring her mom along. But no matter how much I reasoned with her, she wouldn’t budge. She blew up at me, yelling over something as trivial as a wedding. In the end, she ignored me completely, grabbed the car keys, and hit the highway without another word. That wasn’t like Lily. She was usually so calm, so sweet-tempered. Looking back, it should have set off alarm bells. But in my past life, I had been blind to all the warning signs. “Ryan, why aren’t you saying anything? Did I hit a nerve?” “Mom,” I said, my tone soft and full of sorrow. “You’ve seen how I’ve treated Lily over the years. I love her—I’d never want anything bad to happen to her.” I reached out and took her hands in mine, squeezing them gently, my face the picture of grief. “I want nothing more than for Lily to come back safe and sound. I’ve already made arrangements. Let’s head to the crash site now.” The moment the words left my mouth, her entire demeanor shifted. The anger and grief she’d been putting on vanished in an instant, replaced by a suspiciously bright smile. It was almost as if she’d forgotten her daughter was supposedly fighting for her life. We left together, her walking ahead of me to the car. Before following, I made a quick call to a private investigator I’d hired earlier. “I need you to keep an eye on the house,” I told him. “If Lily shows up, get photos—anything that proves she’s alive.” Once we were in the car, Lily’s mom kept her back to me, frantically typing away on her phone. “What are you doing?” I asked, glancing over casually. “Just checking the news,” she replied, her tone a little too quick. “I want to see if there are any updates about the crash.” I didn’t call her out on the lie, but I knew exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t looking at the news. She was texting Lily, feeding her updates on my every move. Meanwhile, just outside the house, Lily was already waiting in the shadows with her so-called “best friend,” Nick. Dressed in hoodies and baseball caps, they looked like a couple of amateur thieves. “Who’s that lurking around the front door?” Lily whispered, narrowing her eyes at the stranger near the entrance. “I’ll go check it out.” She started forward, but Nick grabbed her arm. “No! If you show yourself now, it’ll ruin everything. Do you want to blow the whole plan?” She stopped in her tracks, her face twisting with frustration. “What am I supposed to do? My jewelry is still in there—all my valuables!” Nick shook his head, keeping his voice low. “Don’t worry. We’ll get another chance. Besides, if you’re ‘dead,’ Ryan will still have to take care of your mom. Just have her ask for more money later. Problem solved.” Her expression softened, and she let out a small laugh. The two of them slipped away into the night, still clinging to the delusion that they could live off me forever. In my past life, by the time I got home from the crash site, the house had been ransacked. Jewelry, cash, family heirlooms—gone. I had been too overwhelmed by grief and the chaos caused by the victims’ families to even report the theft. Not this time. This time, I was ready for them. I had the investigator watching from the shadows, documenting every move they made. Even if Lily had changed her name and tried to reinvent herself, her face was still the same. One photo of her sneaking around my house, and her entire scheme would come crashing down. This time, Lily, you’ve already lost. By the time I arrived at the crash site, the fire had just been extinguished. The wreckage was still smoldering, the burnt-out remains of several cars charred beyond recognition. The moment Lily’s mom stepped out of the car, she ignored the police and firefighters yelling at her to stay back and ran straight into the wreckage. And somehow, as if guided by some supernatural force, she went directly to Lily’s car. She collapsed to the ground as soon as she got close, wailing like her heart was about to give out. I noticed her phone lying on the ground, clearly dropped in her frantic rush. I bent down to pick it up, and just as I did, a notification popped up on the screen. It was a text from a contact with a gray, anonymous avatar: “We checked the house, but came up empty. Mom, see if you can squeeze more out of Ryan.” My grip tightened on the phone. Lily and her lover, Nick, were shameless. They knew I wouldn’t abandon her mom, no matter what happened. They were using my love for her to milk me for everything I had. I thought back to the last life, to the years after Lily’s “death.” I had been drowning under the weight of lawsuits and compensation claims from the victims’ families. Even then, I still sent her mom $1,000 every month to help with her “living expenses.” Whenever I had a little extra to spare, I sent more. Turns out, every cent of that money must’ve gone straight into the pockets of those two snakes. “Mr. Chase, please help calm her down,” a firefighter called out to me. “We’re doing everything we can to rescue your wife.” “Of course,” I said, carefully setting the phone back where she’d dropped it. I jogged over to Lily’s mom and gently helped her to her feet. “Mom, let’s not get in the way of the rescue team. People might start thinking Lily’s… already gone if you keep crying like this.” She looked up at me, her bloodshot eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What’s that supposed to mean, Ryan? Are you wishing for my daughter’s death?” “Of course not,” I replied calmly. “Every second counts during a rescue. I just want to make sure Lily has the best chance possible.” She seemed unconvinced, but she stood up anyway. I reached out to steady her, but she stumbled, nearly falling back toward the wreckage. “Mom!” I shouted, grabbing her arm just in time. “Are you okay?” She yanked her arm away, glaring at me like I’d insulted her. “Don’t touch me.” Without another word, she wiped her face dramatically and stormed off toward the edge of the police barrier. Her anger didn’t surprise me. She wasn’t upset because I was “wishing ill” on Lily. No, she was mad because I’d interrupted her plan. She’d been trying to plant Lily’s phone in the wreckage, hoping it would be found during the rescue. That phone was full of photos of Lily—and more importantly, sentimental recordings and messages from her to me. In my past life, I had been so consumed by grief that when I finally got that phone back, I spent hours restoring its data, desperate to hold on to any piece of her I could. One of the recordings had shattered me. It was Lily’s “farewell message,” filled with declarations of love and regret. She talked about how much she’d miss me in the next life, how she hoped we’d meet again someday. Every word had cut into me like a knife. I had believed her so completely that I spent the rest of my life carrying the burden of her “death,” paying her family’s bills, and never even considering moving on. But this time, I wasn’t going to let her mom pull the same stunt. I made sure she never got the chance to plant that phone in the wreckage. The rescue operation lasted an entire day. By the end of it, a police officer approached me and Lily’s mom with a somber expression. He handed over a bag of Lily’s personal belongings. “I’m sorry,” he said. “We couldn’t recover a body.” He explained that the damage from the crash was so severe that it was possible her remains had been obliterated in the explosion or consumed entirely by the fire. “Please accept our condolences,” he added. I clenched his hand tightly, tears streaming down my face in large, uncontrollable drops. Behind me, Lily’s mom collapsed to the ground in a dead faint. I knew she was faking it, but just like in my past life, I called for an ambulance and personally took her to the hospital. Back then, I had done the same thing. After dropping her off at the hospital, I had gone straight to a funeral home, bought an urn, and returned to the crash site to collect a handful of ash to put in it. This time, I followed the same steps—except instead of heading to a cemetery afterward, I went straight back to the hospital. As I approached her hospital room, I heard voices coming from inside. “…You were right, Lily,” her mom said, laughing. “Ryan fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. He looked like a ghost when they told him you were dead. What an idiot.” “Don’t worry,” she continued. “I’ll make sure to bleed him dry. He’s too soft to ever say no to me.” “And I’ve already sent someone to stir up the victims’ families,” Lily replied, her voice cold and calculating. “Once they start causing trouble, Ryan will be too busy putting out fires to notice anything else. You can grab whatever’s left at the house while he’s distracted.” My hands curled into fists, my nails digging into my palms as I listened. Five years of marriage. Five years of loyalty, of love, of trust. And this is what it had all been for. Even the victims’ families—the people who had screamed at me, threatened me, and made my life hell—had been manipulated by them. The truth hit me like a bolt of lightning, leaving me breathless and reeling. But this time, things would be different. If Lily wanted to play dead, I’d make sure it became a reality. The good times for them were officially over.

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My husband Ezra and I decided to use our vacation time to travel to Canada and visit my parents on the way back. Little did I know that on the first day in Canada, we’d have a major fight over our itinerary. I was so angry that I started arguing with him on the street. He tried to appease me by offering to take me out for a fancy dinner. When I got back to the hotel, I found he had left with all my luggage and phone, leaving just a note telling me to “reflect on my behavior”. I borrowed a phone to call him, but he didn’t answer. As I stood there in the freezing cold with the bitter wind whipping around me, I had an epiphany. This time, I won’t let you off the hook so easily. Just before Christmas this year, my husband and I made plans to take a trip to Canada first. Then we’d stop by my parents’ place in Alaska on the way back, before heading home for Christmas. Ezra and I were college classmates. I couldn’t wait to escape Alaska after 18 years, so I went to a southern city for college. We fell in love during our university years, and I married him without hesitation. Due to our busy work schedules, I hadn’t been back home in three years. I wanted to take this opportunity to visit my parents. At first, Ezra complained about how cold Canada would be in winter. “It’s crazy to go there in this weather,” he grumbled. I retorted, “In summer you say it’s too hot and the trip is too rushed. We’ve finally saved up enough vacation days, let’s just go and enjoy ourselves!” Ezra still looked displeased. Seeing his expression, I wrapped my arms around him and tried a softer approach: “Honey, consider this my treat. I’ll cover the expenses, you just relax and have fun!” Hearing this, Ezra’s furrowed brow relaxed and he nodded with feigned reluctance: “Alright then.” I excitedly started preparing for our Canada trip. Canada is cold, and neither of us had proper winter gear. Since we were going to visit my parents right after, I was in a good mood and even splurged on an expensive down Ezraet for Ezra, costing a few hundred dollars. As soon as our vacation started, we flew to Canada. Before I even had a chance to appreciate the scenery, Ezra and I got into an argument over the hotel room. Looking at the suite I had booked, Ezra’s face darkened: “What kind of room did you book with my money? A standard room would have been fine. Why waste money on all this fancy stuff?!” “You’re such a spendthrift!” he snapped. Hearing Ezra’s words, I immediately got fired up: “Ezra Wilson, what do you mean ‘your money’? I used my own money to book this suite. Why are you complaining? Isn’t the whole point of traveling to enjoy ourselves?” “By standard room, do you mean those tiny 50 square foot rooms with one bed for $80 a night? Those dirty places? I refuse to sleep there!” The mention of standard rooms made my blood boil. On our honeymoon, he had booked us into a cheap $80 motel that nearly drove me insane. We hadn’t traveled since then, and now that I was footing the bill for a nice hotel, he had the nerve to throw a tantrum and call me wasteful. I angrily tossed my luggage by the bed and flopped down to play on my phone. If he didn’t want to stay, he could leave. I’d enjoy it myself. Seeing that I’d called him out, Ezra’s face darkened for a moment. After calming down, he put on a smile and started sweet-talking me. I didn’t really want our trip ruined like this either, so after some coaxing I let it go. On our first full day exploring Canada, I went all out. It was my first time seeing so much snow, so I dragged Ezra around taking photos everywhere. During a break, Ezra took a phone call while I happily sorted through our photos. Even though my cheeks were frozen red, I didn’t care at all. Because of this, I failed to notice Ezra’s unhappy expression after he finished his call. Ezra and I had both joined the astronomy club in college. We’d made a promise to see the Northern Lights together someday. When I found out there would be an incredibly rare and massive aurora display in the coming nights, I specifically planned for us to go see it. Not only would it let us relive our youthful dreams, but it would also help us forget our recent squabbles. To my surprise, after I excitedly shared the evening’s plans while munching on some chocolate I’d just bought, Ezra’s face darkened again. He snapped impatiently: “If there really are Northern Lights, we can see them from anywhere. We don’t have to go tonight.” I was shocked. It had only been four years since we’d made that promise, and now he was so impatient about it? “Honey, this aurora is really special. Let’s go see the most spectacular display together. Wasn’t that our promise back then?” I tried appealing to our shared memories. But Ezra exploded in anger: “Eloise, are you deaf? I said we’re not going, so we’re not going. Stop bringing up that old shit about our youth!” “I’m exhausted from following you around sightseeing these past few days. If you want to see the aurora so badly, go by yourself!”

His sudden outburst startled me. Ezra’s voice was so loud it drew stares from passersby. I’m not one to back down either, so I kicked a nearby bollard hard and yelled back: “Who the hell are you shouting at? Are you just trying to pick a fight with me?!” “We’ve only been out for two days and you’ve already fought with me twice. Is this how you want our marriage to be?!” Ezra glared at me fiercely, then stormed off, leaving me standing there alone. Watching his resolute back as he walked away, I couldn’t believe he’d start a fight with me in the middle of the street and then just abandon me. As I was on the verge of tears, a pair of hands appeared before me. It was Ezra. Seeing my red-rimmed eyes, he pulled me into an embrace and softened his tone: “I’m sorry, honey. It’s my fault.” “I’ve been too tired lately and it’s made me irritable. I apologize, it’s all my fault.” Seeing Ezra come back, my anger subsided a bit, but I wasn’t ready to let him off so easily. Noticing my expression soften slightly, Ezra pressed on: “Don’t be mad anymore, babe. I managed to get a reservation at that restaurant you love – the one you were saying last night was impossible to get into.” “You must be hungry after all this sightseeing. Let’s go eat now!” Right on cue, my stomach growled. Ezra struck a princely pose, as if inviting me to dinner, which made me laugh. The table was filled with all my favorite dishes, and my lingering resentment completely melted away. As I happily dug in, Ezra’s phone kept buzzing with incoming messages. He alternated between serving me food and replying to the messages. I glanced over and saw it seemed to be from his mother. “Is everything okay with your mom?” I asked. “Oh it’s nothing, she’s just asking how our trip is going,” he said, avoiding eye contact. I was too busy wolfing down my food to pay much attention, so I just nodded in response. Ever since I married into the family, my mother-in-law had always tried to control me. But my free-spirited nature refused to be tamed. After several fruitless arguments, she gave up and said our life was our own business. I don’t know what got into her today to make her start meddling again. “Honey, my mom needs some help with an online thing. Can I use your phone to help her out real quick?” Ezra asked. “Sure, go ahead,” I said carelessly. If I didn’t help his mom, she’d probably start nagging me again. “Alright, I’ll go pay the bill now. Take your time eating,” Ezra said, giving me a meaningful look before leaving with my permission. Half an hour later, Ezra still hadn’t returned. I’d finished eating and was confused. I walked out of the private room and the waiter smiled, saying, “Ma’am, your husband has already paid and left.” “Where did he go?” I asked. “He’s already gone,” the waiter replied. Gone? I instinctively reached for my phone to call him, only to remember I’d given it to Ezra. He’d left quietly with my phone. A sense of foreboding washed over me. I rushed back to the hotel. When I got there, I discovered Ezra had checked out of our room and taken all my luggage and phone with him. The receptionist said he’d left a message for me: “Take some time to reflect on your behavior.” Seeing the sympathetic look in the receptionist’s eyes, my scalp tingled and I felt a strange sense of humiliation bubbling up. So this is Ezra’s game. After our fight, he pretended to make up just to teach me a lesson like this. With shaking hands, I borrowed the receptionist’s phone to call him. He hung up immediately. Ezra was clearly doing this on purpose! After about a dozen attempts, Ezra blocked the number. My chest tightened and I felt suffocated by the intense shame. I wandered out of the hotel in a daze, acutely aware of the strange looks from others. No money, no phone, no passport. Ezra had cut off all my options, forcing me to admit I was wrong. I walked down the street with trembling arms wrapped around myself. The bitter wind whipped mercilessly, chilling me to the bone. I replayed every argument Ezra and I had over the past two days. He must have been fed up for a while. How thoughtful of him to go to such lengths to teach me a lesson. His methods were certainly more sophisticated than his mother’s. His mother? Damn it, she must have had a hand in planning this! No wonder that old lady kept messaging Ezra. She was coaching him on how to deal with me. The freezing wind felt like knives on my skin. In the subzero temperatures, I was still wearing the clothes I’d changed into at lunch. I was on the verge of hypothermia. My steps grew smaller and smaller as I pushed forward. I could feel my blood starting to slow. Spotting a police station just ahead, I forced myself to keep going. I finally collapsed at the entrance.

When I came to, a kind female officer was tucking blankets around me. I touched my face, which had been bright red from the cold before I passed out. Feeling my body temperature, I realized I was still alive and immediately burst into tears, drawing several officers over. After I choked out my story, the officer who had been caring for me started cursing under her breath: “How can there be such terrible men in this world? It’s minus 40 degrees out there – he took all your things and left you to freeze on the streets! What a scumbag.” “I was already hesitant about marriage, but hearing this makes me never want to get married,” she added. I sipped the hot tea they gave me as my body slowly warmed up. After contacting my parents, the two of them rushed to Canada as fast as they could. When I finally saw my parents appear before me, my barely contained emotions burst forth again. My loud sobs echoed through the police station, drawing sympathetic looks from everyone present. “That good-for-nothing bastard, how dare he abandon our daughter out in the cold and run off,” my dad fumed. “It’s freezing out there – he could have killed you!” he continued. “Just wait till I get my hands on that little punk,” he growled. My dad’s mouth hadn’t stopped cursing Ezra since we got in the car to go home. Even my mom, who usually tried to smooth things over, wasn’t saying anything nice this time. “Hmph, that little shit. How dare he mess with my baby girl,” she huffed. “Eloise, you didn’t even tell us you were coming back this time. If that jerk hadn’t done this to you, were you not planning to let us know at all?” my mom snapped. She was clearly upset that I hadn’t been home in three years, and even more furious that her daughter had been mistreated. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ve already told your uncle and cousins. If Ezra dares to show his face around here, we’ll teach him a lesson he won’t forget,” my dad said. My dad only had one brother. For generations, our family had only had boys. My dad was the first to have a girl, so I became the precious baby of the family. When they found out I was marrying someone from the south, my uncle’s family was so disappointed. At the wedding, they even warned Ezra that if he ever mistreated me, they’d break his legs. We all thought it was just a joke at the time, but now it might actually come true. “I’m calling Ezra right now. Let’s see what he has to say for himself!” my dad said, pulling out his phone. Ezra picked up almost immediately: “Dad… what’s up?” I could hear Ezra trying to sound calm on the other end of the line. I wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and tear him apart. “Oh nothing, I just tried calling Eloise’s phone but couldn’t get through. What’s going on? Why isn’t she answering?” my dad asked casually. “Ah… Eloise’s phone died,” Ezra stammered. “I see. You two must be home from work by now, right? Put Eloise on, I need to tell her something,” my dad pressed. “Uh… Eloise’s not home right now. She went out to buy something,” Ezra fumbled. As Ezra was desperately trying to come up with excuses, my dad rolled his eyes and handed me the phone. Controlling my shaking voice, I said: “Ezra, what the hell did I go out to buy?!” Hearing my voice, Ezra immediately panicked and started rambling incoherently, trying to explain himself. “Honey, listen, I didn’t mean to… Where are you? I’ll come find you,” he pleaded. “Just come to my parents’ house. I’ll be waiting,” my dad commanded, then hung up without waiting for Ezra’s response. When Ezra nervously showed up at my parents’ house, my dad immediately smashed the teapot Ezra had given him as a gift at his feet. Ezra had given my dad that teapot when he first came to meet my family, and my dad had really liked it. The scalding tea splashed near Ezra’s feet. He was still wearing the expensive down Ezraet I’d bought him and pulling our luggage. I had so eagerly prepared all our travel clothes, and now seeing that coat I’d spent a small fortune on, I just wanted to rip it to shreds. “You goddamn son of a bitch, do you know how cold it is outside?!” my dad roared. “You piece of shit took everything and left Eloise to freeze on the streets. You heartless bastard!” My dad’s face was red with rage. Terrified, Ezra fell to his knees. “Dad, I didn’t mean to. I was just a little upset with Eloise. I only wanted to scare her a bit. I didn’t think it would alarm you,” Ezra pleaded. Hearing Ezra’s words, I laughed bitterly. Scare me? He clearly didn’t care if I lived or died. “Give me Eloise’s phone right now!” my dad bellowed, making Ezra flinch. Ezra hurriedly pulled it out of his pocket. I quickly snatched it back. “You dare treat my daughter like this right under our noses. I can’t imagine how much she must suffer living with you!” my mom cried, berating him. “How has she suffered with us? We feed her well and take care of her every need. My mom asks her to do one little thing and she refuses,” Ezra snapped back. “If you ask me, it’s our family that’s been suffering. We married a disobedient daughter-in-law who only knows how to waste money. She bought me this ridiculously expensive coat – can you believe it?” Ezra stood up, pointing at his Ezraet with disdain. He’d given up all pretense now. “Suffering? What could your family possibly be suffering from? Is it because I refused to eat expired food your mom tried to feed me? Or because I didn’t agree when you two wanted us to buy a house for your brother?” I retorted. “This whole trip was paid for with my money!” “You think I care about the pittance you make each month? Ha!” I never imagined Ezra would air all his family’s dirty laundry in front of my parents. Since he had no shame left, why should I hold back? Ezra’s face turned red with anger. He raised his hand to slap me but was stopped by someone behind him. My uncle had arrived with my two tall, muscular cousins. They restrained Ezra as my older cousin glowered: “What were you about to do to my little sister?” There was a sickening crack, followed by Ezra’s agonized howls. Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead from the pain. My uncle’s family owns a gym, and both my cousins are personal trainers. With just a bit of force, they’d dislocated Ezra’s wrist. “You’re assaulting me! I’ll sue you!” Ezra threatened through gritted teeth. “Go ahead and sue. You think we’re afraid of you?” I scoffed, looking down at the man writhing in pain before me. “Ezra Wilson, I’m telling you now – we’re getting divorced!” “This marriage is over!”

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My fiancée Rosalie, the CEO, told me the company wasn’t doing well and cut my salary in half. But then I saw her assistant Tyler bragging on Instagram. “The boss not only gave me a raise but also bought me a luxury car because she was worried I’d be tired from work. She’s so thoughtful!” In the photo, he and my fiancée were standing in front of a newly purchased million-dollar luxury car, looking blissfully happy. I pondered for two seconds, then hit the like button. That evening, Rosalie called an emergency meeting. Using the excuse that I was disrupting the company’s atmosphere, she withheld my entire month’s salary and gave it to her assistant as compensation for emotional distress. Everyone looked at me sympathetically, thinking I would go crazy and make a scene. But I just calmly packed up my things from my desk and handed my resignation letter to her. “Docking my salary isn’t enough for bullying a colleague? I’ll resign voluntarily.” As soon as I finished speaking, Rosalie’s assistant Tyler quickly chimed in. “Felix, how can you resign over such a small matter?” “You’ve been with the company for so long, and Rosalie has always been so good to you. If you resign at this critical moment, how will everyone view Rosalie?” “Rosalie, please come and talk Felix out of it!” Rosalie might have wanted to persuade me earlier. But after hearing Tyler’s words, her anger grew. She snorted coldly: “Why should I persuade him? If he wants to leave, let him leave. I have nothing to hide, I’m not afraid of what anyone might say.” Then, without hesitation, she signed my resignation letter and threw it in my face. The onlooking colleagues were dumbfounded. A colleague who was close to me quickly whispered, urging me to apologize and not to act on impulse. Almost everyone present knew that I had helped Rosalie build this company from scratch. When the company was short on money, I worked tirelessly to secure investments. When projects couldn’t be completed, I led the team in pulling all-nighters to get the work done. I had poured countless hours and emotions into every aspect of the business. Now that the company had completed its financing and was about to go public, anyone in their right mind wouldn’t leave at this time. But I remained calm, picking up the resignation letter from the ground. “I’ll leave after I finish handing over my work.” “No need for a handover, just get out now,” Rosalie said coldly, pointing at the door. Seeing this, I said nothing more. After saying goodbye to a few people, I picked up my things and left. Before I left, I looked back at Rosalie one last time. I clearly saw a flash of complexity in her cold, calm eyes. Of course, I knew why. She didn’t think I would leave. We had fallen out before, but after leaving for a short while, I would always regret it and go back to her as if nothing had happened, apologizing and continuing to work as usual. But perhaps she didn’t know that this time was different from before. My patience with her had finally run out. I walked to the parking garage. I found my old car that I had been driving for ten years, with several patches of paint worn off. Next to it was parked a brand new top-of-the-line Porsche, the one Rosalie had just given to Tyler today. There were many empty spaces in the garage, yet he chose to park right here. I understood. This was his way of taunting me. These weren’t just two cars; they were more like the two of us. I had been with Rosalie for ten years, yet I wasn’t as valued as Tyler who had only joined ten months ago. I laughed self-mockingly and got into my car. Just then, a text message came through. I opened it to see a transfer from my friend. This morning when Rosalie said the company wasn’t doing well and wanted to cut my salary, I was worried she was under too much pressure. I immediately contacted a friend and borrowed fifty thousand dollars. I had originally planned to give it to her, but then I inadvertently saw Tyler’s Instagram post about Rosalie buying him a new car. At that moment, I was surprisingly calm, feeling neither sad nor jealous to the point of madness. Perhaps it was because it had happened too many times. Tyler had been recruited into the company by Rosalie as an exception. His work ability was a complete mess, but Rosalie, who had always been serious and meticulous about work, could tolerate his mistakes time and time again. From small things like serving plain water to clients during meetings while getting milk tea for herself, to big mistakes like sending the bottom-line price list to partners instead of the quote list, causing the company to lose hundreds of thousands of dollars. When I questioned Tyler about these issues, Rosalie would unhesitatingly stand in front of him to protect him. She would look at me with impatience. “Tyler just graduated, isn’t it normal to make some mistakes? Why are you being so harsh on a newcomer?” Over time, Tyler became increasingly arrogant, to the point where he didn’t take me seriously at all. Soon after, I left the parking garage. As I was waiting for the barrier to rise, my car suddenly jolted. Realizing I had been rear-ended, I got out of the car, only to see Rosalie and Tyler getting out of the car behind, hand in hand. “I’m so sorry… Oh, Felix, it’s you?” Tyler immediately walked up, looking distressed at his dented car front. “But why did you brake so suddenly? I didn’t have time to react.” “What a shame, Rosalie just gave me this new car,” he added. Rosalie also looked at me with a gloomy face and said coldly, “Did you do this on purpose? Did you know Tyler was behind you and deliberately brake to get revenge?” I almost laughed at her accusation. It was always like this. She would push all the blame onto me without distinguishing right from wrong. Before I could say anything, Tyler’s eyes slowly turned red. “Rosalie, don’t blame Felix,” he said. “Felix just resigned because of me, it’s normal for him to be angry with me.” “After all, it’s all my fault.” As he spoke, he clenched his fist and hit his forehead hard, as if in frustration. But just before his fist touched his forehead, he deliberately loosened his grip. Rosalie couldn’t see through this act. Her eyes filled with concern as she gently rubbed his forehead, saying lovingly, “It has nothing to do with you. Don’t take everything on yourself.” After saying this, she glared at me angrily. Seeming to get more upset the more she thought about it, she poked my forehead hard. “Felix, can’t you learn from Tyler and take some responsibility?” “He knows how to be humble. You’ve been working for so many years, why are you still so childish and arrogant?” I stumbled back a couple of steps from her push. After regaining my balance, I found it somewhat amusing. Over the past year, it had been Tyler constantly stealing my achievements and scheming to pin blame on me. Now suddenly he was humble and responsible, while I was childish and arrogant. Knowing that talking further would be a waste of breath, I couldn’t be bothered to say anything more. I turned around, preparing to leave. “Wait a moment,” Rosalie suddenly stopped me. I thought she was going to scold me again and defend Tyler, but to my surprise, she pulled me aside. She spoke earnestly. “Felix, I admit my attitude towards you today was indeed too harsh.” “But it’s because I have high expectations for you, that’s why I’m so strict with you.” Hearing her gentle words, I was still a bit confused. However, I soon understood her intentions. Rosalie smiled lightly at me and patted my shoulder. “I’ll withdraw your resignation letter. Just come to work as usual, but find a time to apologize to Tyler in front of everyone.” “Also, you’re fully responsible for this rear-end collision. I’ll deduct the compensation from your salary later.” I realized what was happening. I let out a sneer and looked up at Tyler. He had probably already known what Rosalie was going to say. His face was full of smugness as he winked at me provocatively. I sneered again. “No need.” “As for who’s responsible for the rear-end collision, we can check the surveillance footage. If that’s not enough, you can call the police.” “I have things to do, I’m leaving now.” With that, I left directly. Rosalie was fuming behind me: “I’ve already given you a chance, don’t regret it!” Regret? I won’t regret it. I got back in my car and sent a message to my friend. “I’ve resigned. I can start working at your company tomorrow.” My friend called back in less than half a second, his tone excited: “Are you serious?” He sounded a bit unsure: “Do you want to discuss it with Rosalie again?” My friend and Rosalie had started their businesses around the same time. Compared to Rosalie who started from scratch, my friend had more resources and could offer more attractive benefits. My friend was in desperate need of excellent technical talent, so he promised me higher shares and profits to get me to help them out. He even made an exception and offered to let me work part-time after learning about my relationship with Rosalie. But for Rosalie’s sake, I had refused without hesitation. When I was at my lowest point, lying in the snow almost freezing to death, it was Rosalie who dragged me into a police station and saved my life. I was very grateful to her, so I gave up everything and devoted myself wholeheartedly to the business, doing everything I could to help Rosalie’s company grow step by step. But now it seemed that she didn’t care at all. Moreover, after so many years, I had more than repaid her kindness. I didn’t need to keep compromising myself anymore. “No need, I can make my own decisions,” I replied. After chatting with my friend for a bit more and confirming the time to sign the contract, I drove home first to get the documents needed for signing. I thought Rosalie wouldn’t be back until late at night as usual. But to my surprise, she walked into the living room not long after, talking happily on the phone with Tyler. Seeing me, her face immediately darkened. She deliberately rolled her eyes at me before pushing open the bedroom door. I knew she was waiting for me to coax her. Every time we had an unpleasant encounter at the company, I would always find ways to apologize to her and beg for her forgiveness. Even when she was the one at fault, I would still have to swallow my pride and admit I was wrong. Before, I thought I should do this, whether it was to repay her kindness or to maintain our relationship, I should pamper her. But now I just found it boring. I focused on looking for things in the drawer. After a while, she came out of the room with a gloomy face. “Has Tyler’s car been fixed? Have you fixed your car?” she asked. I knew this was her signal of giving me a chance to make up. In the past, I would have thought she had forgiven me and would have rushed to please her. But now, I didn’t even look up as I replied indifferently, “It’s just an old car, not worth fixing.” Rosalie frowned. “What do you mean by that?” I looked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she was unsatisfied with now. This car had been scratched many times before. When I said I wanted to fix it, she would say the same thing I just said. I thought she was going to get angry again, but to my surprise, she let out a sigh. “Tyler has indeed been doing well at work lately, so I gave him a car to keep him motivated.” “You’re my boyfriend, and when we get married, won’t the company be yours too? Why do you have to be so calculative about salary with him?” “Felix, everything I do is for the company. I don’t want other colleagues to think I’m favoring you.” Realizing she was actually trying to explain to me, I was a bit surprised. She had never bothered to explain these things to me before. But I knew clearly that these were just excuses. In the company, all the colleagues knew how Rosalie treated me and Tyler differently. Projects that I had worked on for three days straight, she would suddenly hand over to Tyler on a whim. He would just make a PowerPoint presentation, and it would become Tyler’s achievement. Clients that I had negotiated with for days and were about to sign contracts, she would take Tyler to have one meal with them under my name, and the contracts would become Tyler’s accomplishment. There were countless such incidents. Over time, other colleagues only felt that Rosalie favored Tyler more. Some even thought Rosalie didn’t like me, and because of this, I endured quite a bit of side-eye and bullying in the company. She saw it but pretended not to notice. I didn’t want to explain. Anyway, even if I did, she would say I was making excuses. “Oh,” I responded indifferently. “You don’t need to tell me these things. I have nothing to do with the company anymore. Do whatever you think is best.” Rosalie didn’t say anything. Finally, she let out a sigh. She walked up to me, stood on her tiptoes, and wrapped her arms around my neck, her breath warm against my skin. “Actually, I have my own selfish reasons. I want you to take a break for a while and think about our wedding.” “When are you planning to propose to me?” she asked with a coy smile. But I had already proposed many times before, and each time, she had rejected me. Every time we had a fight, she would use marriage to coax me. Sometimes, I felt like I wasn’t her boyfriend, but more like a dog she was toying with. I didn’t say anything. Rosalie then scratched under my chin like she was teasing a dog. “Don’t be angry anymore, can you smile for me?” she said. As she spoke, she deliberately kissed my Adam’s apple, as if trying to please me. She rarely took the initiative to be intimate with me. In the past, I would probably have been very happy. After her advances, I would have taken control, only to be pushed away by her, laughing as she called me dirty-minded. Thinking about it now, I really found it quite boring. I pulled her arms away and wiped my throat with a wet wipe. Rosalie stood there as if struck by lightning, dumbfounded. “You’re disgusted by me?” she asked. “I have to go out later, I’m going to change clothes now,” I said flatly. I turned around, ready to go back to the bedroom. Rosalie tried to follow, but I closed the door without hesitation and locked it. “Fine! Don’t regret it!” Rosalie seemed to have really gotten angry this time. After throwing out these harsh words, she kicked the door hard and stormed off. When I came out of the bedroom, the living room was already empty. Rosalie had sent a message in the company group chat saying she was treating everyone to dinner and asked who wanted to join. Everyone remained silent. Only Tyler sent three “excited” emojis in a row. I knew Rosalie was deliberately trying to make me jealous. This had happened many times before. Every time it was like this – other colleagues were unwilling to participate, and only Tyler would enthusiastically respond. In the past, I would have already been jealous and followed them, only to be mocked by them. Now, I couldn’t be bothered. I went directly to my friend’s place to sign the contract. My friend was very happy and specially arranged a celebration dinner for me. After three rounds of drinks, I went to the restroom. As I was walking, I heard familiar voices from a nearby private room. I instinctively stopped. Through the slightly open door, I saw Rosalie nestled in Tyler’s arms. I don’t know what they said, but Rosalie was laughing uncontrollably. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Tyler quickly lowered his head and kissed her lips. Rosalie was stunned for a moment but didn’t push him away. “Rosalie, when are you going to break up with Felix?” Tyler asked. “I can’t wait to be with you. Do you know how upset I am every day seeing you with him?” Tyler said with a grieved expression. Rosalie moved her lips, seeming to want to say something. Finally, she hugged Tyler back, gently patting his back like comforting a child. “Wait a little longer,” she said. “It won’t be too long.” The two of them cuddling intimately looked exactly like a couple. I sneered and didn’t watch any further. Back in the private room, after a few more drinks, we called it a night. As we were entering the underground parking garage together, my friend suddenly pulled me in front of a top-of-the-line Porsche and asked if I liked it. I nodded, not quite understanding. Thinking it was his new car, I was about to compliment him when my friend suddenly shoved a set of car keys into my hand. “It’s for you,” he said. He winked at me. “I’ve been wanting to replace that old car of yours for a long time. It’s in such bad shape. Now that you’ve joined us, it’s time for an upgrade.” I was about to refuse, but he seemed to already know what I was going to say and went straight to the point: “I heard Rosalie gave a car to that new guy in your company. With his terrible skills, he can drive a luxury car, so of course you can’t be worse off than him.” “You know, I’ve seen the stuff that new guy of yours produces. The style is different every time, obviously copied from somewhere. I don’t know how he’s managed to stay in the company…” Perhaps it was because of the alcohol, but my friend spoke without any filter, complaining non-stop about Tyler. I remained silent. What he said was right. All those things were actually done by me and other colleagues in the team. Almost every time, just as we were about to finish, Rosalie would demand that we hand it over to Tyler. That’s why Tyler’s style was always different. Even my friend, who wasn’t in the company, could see through this. Yet Rosalie somehow couldn’t understand. I thanked my friend and chatted with him for a bit more before heading home. As I opened the door, I saw Rosalie already sitting on the living room couch. “Where have you been?” she asked. She seemed to be in a good mood, her tone much lighter. The scene of her and Tyler embracing in the hotel flashed before my eyes again. I felt a wave of nausea. “Had dinner with a friend,” I said flatly, walking straight towards the bedroom. After just a couple of steps, Rosalie suddenly blocked my way, frowning. “You’ve been drinking?” “Didn’t we agree that you wouldn’t drink when I’m not around?” I couldn’t help but sneer. The implication was that I could only drink when I was helping her entertain clients. I didn’t say anything. Rosalie, however, seemed to think of something and suddenly smiled, looking somewhat smug. “You’re still upset about me going out with Tyler, aren’t you? If you didn’t want me to go out alone with him, you could have just said so. Was it necessary to drink so much?” “You’re overthinking it. My drinking has nothing to do with you,” I said. I felt tired and sat down on a chair. “But I do have something I want to tell you.” “What is it?” Probably thinking I was going to apologize, Rosalie’s tone became even more smug. “Let me tell you in advance, it’s too late to apologize to me now. I’m very angry about what happened this afternoon.” “Don’t think a simple apology will make me forgive you.” As she spoke, she rolled her eyes at me. I pretended not to see it and said, “I…” Before I could finish, her phone rang. Rosalie looked down at it. I noticed the caller ID was Tyler. “Wait a moment, I need to take this call,” she said. With that, Rosalie had no intention of paying any more attention to me and was about to answer the phone. I looked at her cold and resolute back, and calmly spoke up. “Let’s break up, Rosalie.” As soon as I said this, Rosalie’s body seemed to freeze for a moment.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295360”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #玄幻Fantsy