Category: English

When I returned from my business trip, I found my five-year-old daughter, Selina Whitaker, sitting alone at home, nibbling on some cookies. Feeling a pang of guilt, I embraced her tightly and asked, “Selina, where’s your mom?” Selina pouted, her face full of grievance, and burst into tears. “Mommy is at the hotel downstairs marrying Mr. Blackwell. She told me to stay home by myself… Daddy, I’m so hungry…” After settling Selina down, I rushed to the hotel. And sure enough, it was true. There was Ophelia Whitaker, dressed in a wedding gown. When she saw me, her face turned pale with shock, and she quickly pulled me aside. “Dorian, don’t misunderstand! This is just me helping Nathan act out a scene. His mom kept pressuring him to get married, and this was the only way…” Furious, I let out a cold laugh. “Congratulations. May your life together be filled with love and laughter, and may your arguments always be short!” Later, at my wedding to her younger sister, she begged me to take her back. But instead, I made her listen to the sounds of us making love all night. Chapter 

“Congratulations. May your life together be filled with love and laughter, and may your arguments always be short!!” Everyone present thought I was an invited guest, and they applauded my blessings to the groom and bride. Only the bride, Ophelia, looked at me in disbelief, thinking I must be joking. When she realized I wasn’t kidding and saw the seriousness on my face, she reluctantly let go of Nathan Blackwell’s arm and dragged me into a corner, visibly annoyed. “Dorian, what’s the meaning of this?” I couldn’t believe she had the audacity to ask such a question. Last week, during my business trip to Frandel, I had taken a shortcut, desperate to get back early out of concern for her and our daughter’s safety. That choice had nearly cost me my life in a foreign land. But when I finally returned home, the first thing I saw was my five-year-old daughter sitting alone, nibbling on some cookies, while my beloved wife was downstairs marrying her first love. When I walked into the hotel earlier, I saw her and Nathan locked in a sweet embrace, making their vows with sincere devotion. “In wealth or poverty, in sickness or health, through good times and bad, I vow to stand by Nathan for the rest of my life…” She looked utterly devout, her eyes even sparkling with tiny stars of emotion. Yet when we got married, she had asked the officiant to skip the vows altogether, saying it was “too much trouble.” It turned out it wasn’t about the vows being troublesome, and it was about the person she was vowing to. With Nathan’s parents, she was warm and natural, the perfect picture of charm. But in our six years of marriage, she had never once treated my parents with such enthusiasm. If this wedding with Nathan was just an act, then what had our years together been? My heart felt like it had turned to ash. In a flat voice, I said, “I mean what I said. You two belong together, and I’ll bow out.” Ophelia’s brows furrowed, and she let out a derisive snort. “Dorian, stop being unreasonable, will you? My patience has its limits. “I’ve already explained everything to you. Nathan and I are just staging a fake wedding to put his parents at ease. And here you are, making a scene. Can you not let it go?” I let out a cold chuckle and replied indifferently, “Don’t overthink it. I’m genuinely stepping aside. Rest assured, I’m not the clingy type. I’ll file for divorce as soon as possible and won’t drag you down.” Ophelia looked at me in stunned disbelief, as if she couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. “You…” Before she could finish, I turned and started to leave the hotel. But Nathan stopped me, his face full of guilt as he repeatedly apologized. “I’m so sorry, Dorian. Let me explain. “My parents have been pressuring me about marriage, and I didn’t want them to worry, so Ophelia and I staged this. We should have told you beforehand. I truly apologize.” Before Nathan could finish, Ophelia grabbed his arm, her voice icy. “Why are you apologizing to him? He’s just being petty. If he wants to sulk, let him! We don’t need to bother with him.” When I married Ophelia, I had known she still harbored feelings for her first love, Nathan. I had naively thought that with time and my love, I could win her over. But she treated my sincerity as nothing more than the behavior of a pathetic fool. I no longer wanted to play this one-sided game of giving without receiving. If someone else wanted to take my place, they were welcome to it. I felt nothing toward her shameless, outrageous behavior—not anger, not indignation. All I wanted was to sever ties with this woman completely. Chapter 

Seeing my silence, Nathan put on an aggrieved expression. “Dorian, how about this? I’ll explain everything to the guests and publicly apologize to you in front of them. “It doesn’t matter much to me. The worst that can happen is that I’ll lose face in front of my relatives and friends, and my elderly parents will worry about me. As long as it doesn’t hurt the relationship between you two, I’m willing to bear these sacrifices.” He sounded so self-righteous, but I could hear the insincerity dripping from every word. Yet Ophelia seemed completely moved by his performance. She glared at me and was about to scold me when Nathan’s father walked over. Nathan’s father asked, “Ophelia, what are you doing? This is your wedding. Why are you here arguing with another man?” The moment Ophelia saw Nathan’s parents, her demeanor shifted instantly into one of meek compliance. “This is just my neighbor. He happened to be passing by and stopped in to congratulate me.” To protect an outsider, she could so casually refer to me, her husband of six years, as merely her “neighbor.” That was probably all I was to her—a man who shared a roof but held no place in her heart. When I met her gaze, I saw a flicker of panic in her eyes. “Fine. Let’s grant her wish,” I thought. Faced with the curious stares of Nathan’s family and friends, I decided to help them keep up appearances. “Yes, I’m just her neighbor. I came by to wish them well. I’ll leave now. Enjoy the party.” Perhaps my resoluteness caught Ophelia off guard. For a moment, it looked like she might come after me. But Nathan grabbed her hand. “Ophelia, don’t go. My aunt and uncle are waiting for us to toast them. “After everything’s settled, I’ll go with you to find Dorian and clear things up. Once he’s calmed down, it’ll all be fine.” At Nathan’s words, Ophelia stopped in her tracks. However, I walked out of the hotel without looking back. When I got home, Selina threw herself into my arms. “Daddy! You’re finally back. I don’t have to sleep alone tonight! “Daddy, the wind outside was so scary last night. I was hiding under the blanket all by myself, and I was so scared.” When I looked at her sweet, innocent face, my heart ached. I deeply regretted leaving her with her unreliable mother while I went on that trip. Seeing the empty croissant box on the table, I praised her, “Wow, my little princess is amazing! You finished all four croissants I bought for you.” Selina pouted and mumbled, “Daddy, I’m still hungry. Mommy hasn’t cooked for me in three days. She said she’s been busy with Mr. Blackwell…” A lump formed in my throat, and guilt washed over me. Gently stroking her head, I pressed my cheek against hers to comfort her. “Daddy’s here now. I’ll make you something delicious to eat right away.” Selina cheered and jumped up. “Yay! Daddy’s back, and I can have real food again!” Her words brought tears to my eyes as I headed to the kitchen to prepare a meal for her. But when I opened the fridge, I found only some pasta and nothing else. Clearly, no one had cooked at home for days. In the end, I made a simple creamy pasta soup for Selina. Even so, it lit up her face with joy. “Daddy, this is so good! You’re the best!” Hearing her childlike praise filled me with mixed emotions. Just then, the door clicked open. Ophelia walked in, her face sullen, holding a takeout box in her hand. She tossed the box onto the table and glared at me. “What’s wrong with you? All you made for Selina is some lousy pasta? Is this how you take care of your daughter?” Chapter 

In front of Selina, I didn’t want to argue with Ophelia, so I gave her a warning glance, silently telling her not to go too far. Seeing my expression, Ophelia seemed to remember our agreement not to argue in front of our daughter. She refrained from saying anything more but still shot me a defiant look. Nathan, who had come in right after her, immediately tried to diffuse the tension. Squeezing between us with a cheerful smile, he opened the takeout box. “Dorian, we had the hotel pack this for you. Knowing you and Selina might not have eaten, we thought to bring it over.” I glanced at the contents: the remains of a fish with nothing but bones left. It was clearly leftovers. Selina is allergic to fish, and I didn’t want her to be affected even by proximity, so I pushed the box aside. Upon seeing this, Ophelia’s expression darkened. She seemed to think I was insulting Nathan and immediately snapped. “Nathan, don’t bother with them. If they want to eat, fine. If not, who cares?” I hadn’t intended to argue, but I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Ophelia, have you forgotten that Selina is allergic to seafood and fish?” Ophelia’s brow furrowed as if she had just remembered. My family has a history of allergic reactions to fish, and Selina was no exception. I had repeatedly reminded Ophelia not to expose Selina to fish, but she never seemed to take it seriously. However, Nathan loved fish and chips. Whenever they ate out together, he would order it and sometimes even take Selina along. Every time they came back, Selina’s face would be covered in rashes. I had to carefully apply ointment to soothe her skin while reproaching Ophelia for bringing Selina near fish. Yet she remained indifferent. “Oh, it’s just a little rash. Girls her age get these things. It’s no big deal,” she would say. It wasn’t until one incident when Selina’s allergic reaction became severe, causing her throat to swell and her breathing to become labored, that she finally seemed to take it seriously. Thankfully, we got her to the hospital in time to save her. After that, Ophelia seemed to learn her lesson and stopped bringing Selina along to her outings with Nathan. But it didn’t last long. To continue dining out with Nathan, she began leaving Selina home alone, distracting her with snacks and toys. Once, Selina nearly choked on a snack while she was home alone. Luckily, I arrived just in time to save her. She had brought fish back for Selina to eat. It seemed that, just like me, Selina didn’t matter to her as much as Nathan, the one who had once abandoned her. Seeing Ophelia’s embarrassment, Nathan quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Oh, my apologies. I packed this, and I completely forgot about Selina’s allergy to fish…” Ophelia looked at Nathan gratefully, her tone softening. “Nathan was just being thoughtful. Dorian, can you stop nitpicking? “It was inconsiderate of me today. I’ll cook a big meal at home tomorrow to make it up to you and Selina. Will that do?” Before I could respond, a commotion erupted outside the door, followed by the sound of someone unlocking it. I was puzzled, wondering who else besides Ophelia and I could have a key to our house. The voices of Nathan’s parents bragging to their guests provided the answer. “This is my son’s marital home. It’s enormous! “Ophelia is amazing, and she paid for it in full. Nathan didn’t have to spend a penny!” Chapter 

Nathan’s parents entered, cheerfully leading their friends and relatives into the house, only to freeze when they saw my furious face. I was about to explode when Ophelia grabbed me, her eyes pleading. Nathan’s parents’ smiles faltered, and they looked awkwardly at their guests. As everyone exchanged puzzled glances, Nathan’s mother, Hailey Blackwell, avoided confronting me. Instead, she stormed over to Selina, who was eating her pasta and slapped her hard across the face. “Whose child is this, so ill-mannered? Sneaking into someone else’s home and eating their food!” Seeing Selina struck, I lunged forward, ready to kick that vile old woman, but Nathan held me back with all his strength. “Dorian, please, I’m begging you…” “Mommy, she hit me! My face hurts!” Selina, now wailing in pain, tried to run to Ophelia for comfort, only to be pushed away. “Selina, I’m not your mommy. You’re just the neighbor’s kid here for a visit. Don’t call me that… “Sorry, everyone. She’s the neighbor’s child who comes over to play sometimes. I jokingly told her to call me Mommy. Don’t misunderstand.” Ophelia’s face was full of embarrassment as she explained herself to Nathan’s family, desperate not to tarnish his image. “Mommy… Mommy…” Selina, now utterly helpless, tried to inch closer to Ophelia again, only to be stopped by her icy glare. I wanted to comfort Selina, but Nathan still held me back tightly. Nathan’s father, witnessing this, was livid. He picked up a bowl of creamy pasta soup from the table and poured it over Selina’s head, shouting obscenities. “Where did this little bastard come from, calling Ophelia ‘Mommy’ in my son’s new home? How disgusting!” The scalding soup spilled onto Selina’s head, making her scream in pain. I kicked Nathan aside, rushed to hold Selina, and tried to take her to the bathroom to rinse off the burns. But Hailey blocked my way with a group of their guests. “This is my son’s new home. What do you think you’re doing, barging around like this? “Get out of here! You’re bringing bad luck!” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “To hell with you! This is my goddamn…” Before I could finish, Nathan and his people dragged me toward the door. He shouted loudly at Ophelia, “Ophelia, talk to your neighbor! Tell him to leave and not ruin our big day!” Selina and I were thrown out, and Ophelia stood at the door, tears streaming down her face, begging me. “Please, just let this go. I’ll get them to leave tonight. Don’t embarrass Nathan in front of his family…” Looking at the blister forming on Selina’s face and hearing Ophelia’s outrageous words, I couldn’t hold back my rage. “You shameless woman, Ophelia! I want a divorce! “And unless you drag those bastards out of my house this instant, I’ll make sure all of you spend your honeymoon in a jail cell!”

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My boyfriend’s “one true love”—his precious Carol Laurel—stole highly radioactive material from my home, putting me at risk of a prison sentence. When I confronted her, she denied everything, playing innocent like it was second nature. Worse, my boyfriend, Nathan Reed, refused to testify for me, instead doing everything in his power to throw me under the bus. What neither of them realized, though, was that I worked for a top-secret government research facility. And the material they stole? It wasn’t just dangerous—it was lethal. The radioactive material I’d been tasked with transporting was stolen from my apartment overnight. Nathan, my boyfriend, was out of town at the time. The only other person with a key was Carol—his “close family friend,” though everyone knew that was just a convenient label. I didn’t hesitate. This wasn’t a situation I could take lightly. I called the police immediately. When Carol was brought in for questioning, she played the part of the innocent victim perfectly. “Claire,” she said, her voice trembling, “I know you don’t like me, but accusing me of something like this? That’s just cruel.” Nathan burst into the room moments later, his face red with anger. “Claire, are you serious right now?” he snapped. “Carol’s already been through enough because of you. She lost her baby! And now you’re trying to pin this on her?” Because of me? I stared at him, stunned by the sheer audacity of his words. This was the same man I’d caught in bed with Carol just weeks ago. I’d returned early from a work trip to find them lounging together, scrolling through maternity websites and picking out baby items. I had demanded we break up on the spot, but Nathan refused to let me go. As for Carol, she disappeared for two days before reappearing, pale and fragile, as though she’d just been through hell. “Claire,” she’d said softly, tears streaming down her face, “I terminated the pregnancy. Please don’t blame Nathan. It wasn’t his fault—it was mine.” Her “sacrifice” had driven an even deeper wedge between Nathan and me, turning our fractured relationship into an all-out war. But now wasn’t the time to hash out personal grievances. “The missing material,” I told the officers, “is Iridium-192. A highly radioactive source.” The room shifted instantly. The officer in charge straightened, his expression turning grim. “That’s an incredibly dangerous substance,” he said. “We need to locate it immediately.” He turned to the small group in the room, his sharp gaze cutting through the air like a blade. “If anyone has it, hand it over now. Stealing something like this isn’t just theft—it’s a felony. You’re looking at serious prison time.” Carol broke down, crying as though the weight of the world had just fallen on her shoulders. Nathan rushed to her side, his voice trembling with anger. “Carol is a public figure! She’d never risk her reputation by doing something illegal. We have surveillance footage to prove it.” Carol was an up-and-coming social media influencer who made her living as a product promoter. Her career relied heavily on her public image, so Nathan’s confidence made sense. But something about his tone put me on edge. We had a security camera in the hallway outside my apartment, installed for safety reasons. When the footage was reviewed, my stomach dropped. The video only showed me entering and leaving the apartment. There wasn’t a single trace of Carol—or anyone else, for that matter. “This can’t be right,” I said, my voice faltering. But Nathan and Carol exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions smug. That’s when it hit me. This was a setup. They had tampered with the footage. Nathan stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger at me. His voice was loud, filled with righteous indignation. “It was you,” he declared. “You staged this whole thing. You stole it yourself and are trying to frame Carol!” The same hands that had once held me, that had promised me love and loyalty, were now pointing at me like I was a criminal. I locked eyes with him, my voice calm but firm. “Do you even realize what you’re saying?” If I was charged with theft, I’d be looking at years behind bars. Was his hatred for me really that deep?

“Claire,” Nathan said coldly, “you shouldn’t be dragging Carol into this.” “You made this mess, and you should take responsibility for it.” His gaze shifted to Carol’s stomach, and for a moment, his expression softened into something that almost looked like grief. He was blaming me for her miscarriage. Did he really love children that much? A pang of pain shot through my chest as memories flooded back. We had once had a child, too. Back when he went missing during a mountain hike, I had spent days searching for him. I fell during the search, tumbling down a slope, and woke up covered in blood. I’d lost the baby that day. When I found him, alive and well, he held me and cried his heart out, swearing he would never let me go. Now, it seemed he’d forgotten all of it. The tension in the room was broken by the arrival of someone unexpected—a man with sharp features and gold-rimmed glasses. “Elliot?” I said, startled. He nodded at me. “I’ve brought the detection equipment from the lab.” The lead officer wasted no time. “Good. This is serious. We’ll conduct a full-scale search.” “What does that mean?” Carol asked, confused. The officers ignored her, moving quickly to coordinate the operation. They began sweeping the area, starting with my apartment and extending outward in a radius. Even Carol’s home was included in the search. Nathan pulled me aside, his voice low and accusatory. “What kind of job do you have, Claire? What’s so important about this ‘missing item’ that it warrants this kind of manhunt?” I stared at him, my voice flat. “It’s classified. What was stolen is deadly. If you don’t want to die, I suggest you find it.” Carol scoffed, cutting in. “If it’s so dangerous, wouldn’t stealing it make you even guiltier?” Her words seemed to bolster Nathan’s confidence. “She’s got a point,” he said, his expression hardening. Neither of them believed me. They were so caught up in their lies that they couldn’t see the truth staring them in the face. The search lasted all night, but Elliot eventually packed up his equipment, shaking his head. “There’s no trace of it,” he said. “It’s likely still sealed in its lead container. Let’s hope no one is stupid enough to open it.” The lead officer sighed. “Well, that’s… something, at least.” Carol’s tense expression melted into relief. “See?” she said smugly. “Nothing’s missing. Someone’s just trying to cover their tracks.” Nathan nodded in agreement. “The surveillance footage is clear. There’s only one suspect here.” The room fell silent. Elliot placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “The lab has decided to pursue this. Don’t worry—we’ll clear your name.” I nodded, grateful for his support. But it didn’t matter. As the person responsible for the missing material, I was now the prime suspect. Carol and Nathan were practically glowing with satisfaction when the officers informed me that I’d be taken into custody. “Are you happy now?” I asked, looking directly at them. Carol lifted her chin, her voice dripping with arrogance. “The person who killed my baby is finally getting what she deserves. Of course I’m happy.” “And you?” I said, turning to Nathan. “Does it matter what I think?” he spat. “Did you care about my feelings when you caused Carol’s miscarriage?” His eyes, once filled with love, were now cold and filled with hatred. For a moment, I wavered, remembering the man who had once fought for me, defended me, loved me with everything he had. But that man was gone. I lowered my gaze, steeling myself. If they wanted to ruin me, I wouldn’t go down without a fight. Before handing in my phone, I made a few quick adjustments. Elliot raised an eyebrow. “Making your move?” I smiled. “If I don’t fight back now, I’ll be nothing but a punching bag.” I uploaded a detailed timeline of everything—our relationship, their betrayal, and the missing material—to every major social media platform. If they wanted war, I’d give them one.

Because of the structured format of my post and the explosive nature of the title, the story spread like wildfire online. Meanwhile, Nathan and Carol remained clueless, basking in the thrill of successfully framing me. Before I was taken in, I turned to them with a small smile. “Don’t get too comfortable,” I said calmly. “Remember the way you look right now—so smug, so self-satisfied. Because soon enough, you’ll be paying for this with your blood. And when that time comes, it’ll clear my name.” If they were foolish enough to steal something as dangerous as Iridium-192, I had no doubt their recklessness would catch up to them. They dismissed my words as empty threats, laughing as they walked away hand in hand. But it only took one night for cracks to appear in their confidence. The next morning, Nathan frantically requested to see me, his desperation apparent. I refused every single one of his attempts to meet. Three days later, Elliot paid my bail, and I was released on probation. The moment I stepped out, I could tell the situation had shifted dramatically. Nathan was waiting for me, holding a large bouquet of roses. He rushed toward me, reaching out to grab my arm, but Elliot stepped in, blocking him effortlessly. Elliot turned to me with a questioning look. I smiled softly. “It’s fine. Let me talk to him.” The conversation took place at a nearby coffee shop. Nathan shoved the bouquet into my hands, acting as though the last few days hadn’t happened. There wasn’t even a hint of shame on his face. “Claire,” he said, his tone light and casual, “we’re about to face a few years of long-distance. Let’s use this time to make peace, okay? No hard feelings.” I almost laughed out loud. He was referring to my impending prison sentence as a “long-distance relationship”? I shoved the bouquet back at him. “If you’re not going to speak like a human being, I’m leaving.” Nathan’s smile faltered, and he quickly got to the point. “What you posted online,” he began, lowering his voice, “has caused a lot of problems for Carol.” I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the latest updates. The public backlash against Carol was brutal. The internet was ablaze with stories about the influencer who knowingly became “the other woman” and framed me for a crime. Her reputation had taken a nosedive. She wasn’t just losing followers—she was losing brand deals and sponsors left and right. “She’s not doing so well these days, is she?” I said, my tone mocking. My eyes wandered to the table next to us, where a woman sat wearing a mask and a baseball cap pulled low over her face. Even disguised, I could tell it was Carol. Her hands, resting on her lap, were covered in angry red rashes. I glanced at Nathan. He coughed lightly, a persistent, dry sound that made my stomach twist. My heart sank. Those were early symptoms of radiation poisoning. They must have opened the lead container holding the Iridium-192. Nathan, oblivious to my realization, continued speaking. “I need you to issue a public apology,” he said. “Admit that you were jealous of Carol and me, and that everything you posted was a lie.” I blinked, certain I’d misheard him. “You want me to confess that I’m the one who tried to sabotage your relationship?” Nathan nodded, his tone soothing, as though he were offering me a favor. “It’s just a title, Claire. Who cares what people think? We love each other—that’s what matters.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice further. “Think about it. Once you’re in prison, no one will even remember this after a few years. But Carol? She has to live with public scrutiny every day.” Slap! The sound echoed through the coffee shop as my hand connected with his cheek. Nathan recoiled, stunned, his face turning red with anger. The surrounding patrons turned to stare, some even leaning closer to watch the unfolding drama. “You’re shameless,” I said coldly, my voice cutting through the silence. Nathan finally snapped. “Claire! You’re on probation! If you cause trouble, I’ll call the police right now and have you thrown back in jail!” I didn’t flinch. Instead, I grabbed my coffee and threw it in his face. Hot liquid splattered across his shirt, the strong smell of espresso filling the air. “If you have time to threaten me,” I said, my tone icy, “you should be calling a hospital. You might not live through the winter.” Nathan jumped to his feet, his face contorted with rage. “All you ever do is curse people! What’s wrong with you?” He lunged forward, grabbing for my arm, but before he could touch me, a strong hand shot out and grabbed him by the collar.

“It’s not a curse—it’s a fact.” Elliot, who stood a full head taller than Nathan, leaned in close, his presence radiating quiet menace. Instinctively, Nathan stepped back, his confidence faltering. “You again?” he sneered, his eyes darting between Elliot and me, suspicion flickering in his gaze. “So this is what you’ve been hiding, huh?” he spat. “Always claiming your job is some big secret, disappearing for months at a time—turns out you were shacking up with him the whole time.” His voice rose, laced with bitterness. “How long has this been going on? You’ve probably been sleeping together for years. And now you’re pretending to be some innocent victim in front of Carol? It’s pathetic.” Before I could respond, Elliot’s fist shot out, landing squarely on Nathan’s jaw. The punch sent him sprawling to the ground, clutching his face in shock. Carol, who had been trying to blend in with the crowd, finally broke character. With a gasp, she rushed forward, throwing herself down beside Nathan to help him up. “You can’t just hit someone in broad daylight!” she shrieked, glaring at Elliot. “Aren’t you afraid we’ll call the cops?” I crouched down next to her, my tone light but cutting. “You should worry more about yourself.” I reached out and brushed a lock of hair off her shoulder. A few strands came loose, falling into my palm. “You’re losing hair,” I said flatly, letting the strands drift to the ground. “Might want to get that checked out.” Her face twisted with anger, and she slapped my hand away. “You’re insane. It’s just a cold! Stop trying to make everything into some dramatic performance.” I stood, brushing off my hands. “Suit yourself.” Carol’s hostility didn’t faze me anymore. Without another word, I grabbed Elliot’s arm and led him out of the café, leaving the scene of chaos behind. Snow was falling softly, the crisp air cooling the lingering heat of my frustration. “Sorry about that,” I said, glancing at Elliot. “I didn’t mean for you to get bitten by rabid dogs.” Elliot shoved his hands into his coat pockets, walking in step beside me. “Don’t worry about it.” His voice was calm, steady as always. “They’re already showing symptoms. Are you going to feel sorry for them?” I stopped in my tracks, the question hanging in the frosty air. “Maybe I would have,” I admitted after a pause. Iridium-192 is dangerous. I had warned them repeatedly, but they treated my words as empty threats, too focused on framing me to realize the risk they’d taken. I glanced down at the snow beneath my feet, where the pristine white flakes mixed with the muddy street. The filth reminded me of them—shameless, self-serving, and beyond redemption. I stepped forward, leaving the mess behind. “But now?” I said, my voice cold. “Now, I just hope they get exactly what they deserve.” Later that evening, Carol went live on her social media platform. Her face filled the screen, tears streaming down her cheeks as she crafted the perfect sob story for her audience. “I never tried to steal someone else’s boyfriend,” she said, her voice trembling. “Nathan and I have known each other for years. We’ve been together long before Claire ever came into the picture.” She sniffled, her makeup smudging as she leaned closer to the camera. “And Claire? She’s the one who stole from herself and tried to frame me for it. Thank God there was surveillance footage to prove my innocence.” Her voice cracked as she continued, “She’s about to go to prison soon. Are you really going to believe anything a criminal says?” Carol’s tears were convincing, and her performance was Oscar-worthy. Her followers ate it up. The comments section exploded. “Wait, what? Claire’s a criminal?” “Lies. The cheater and her boyfriend got exposed, and now they’re trying to shift the blame.” “Hold on… what did Claire even accuse her of stealing?” I sipped my tea, scrolling through the comments like a casual observer. I copied the last comment and pasted it into the chat, spamming it a few times to make sure Carol saw it. As the flood of questions grew, Carol finally addressed the elephant in the room. “She said it was some… Iridium-192 or whatever,” she said dismissively, waving her hand like the whole thing was ridiculous. “It’s just some pretentious science term she threw around to scare me.” She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “She even tried to tell me it was dangerous—like it could kill people or something. So dramatic, right?” But her smug attitude faltered as she suddenly covered her mouth, gagging uncontrollably. Among the flurry of comments, someone finally connected the dots. “Wait… Iridium-192? Are you serious? That stuff is deadly!” “Can someone explain? I don’t know what that is.” “You don’t need to know what it is. Just understand this: if you carry that stuff around for even two hours, you’re going to get radiation poisoning. And trust me, it’s not a pretty way to go.” The comment section exploded, the chat scrolling so fast it was almost unreadable. And then, on live stream, it happened. Carol’s eyes suddenly rolled back, and her body went stiff. Without a word, she collapsed, hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

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After my parents stripped me of the last cent I had, stolen in the name of buying my brother a house, and my boyfriend—no, the man I once thought would stand by me forever—betrayed me with an affair, I left everything behind. With nothing but the weight of my own despair, I found myself in Asheville, a city that promised nothing but the possibility of something new. This was where my journey began, and I swore to myself: I wouldn’t just survive. I would flourish. I never imagined that something like this would happen to me. In the living room, my parents sat solemnly in the main seats, my younger brother was sitting on the sofa beside them, his head lowered, silent. I stood alone in front of them, isolated and helpless. “Why…” I couldn’t believe these words were coming from my parents, who had loved me for 23 years. “No why,” my mother said impatiently. “Your brother is getting married, and we’re short on money for the house.” She sighed, clearly irritated. “It’s just $20,000. Why are you acting like we’re asking for your life?” “But Mom, I only have $20,000. I was saving this for my wedding with Lucas,” I explained, my voice shaking. “You only have $20,000 because you’re not making enough. It’s generous enough that we’re not asking for $50,000. After raising you all these years, you can’t even give us this $20,000?” she snapped. “But Mom, you know, Lucas and I are getting married next month. And my brother isn’t just short $20,000 for the down payment. He’s short $20,000 for the entire house!” My heart was breaking as I spoke. “Why can’t he just get a loan?” My mother’s voice was sharp, but I felt like my whole world was crumbling. I had once thought my parents really loved me. Even when they left me in the countryside with my grandmother until I was five and only brought me to the city once my brother was old enough for kindergarten, I had always believed they were just too busy to care for me. When my friends talked about their families’ favoritism towards boys, I would always insist that my family wasn’t like that. My brother was just an unexpected child, not something deliberately planned by my parents. I had been living in this lie for over twenty years. I looked at my parents in disbelief. My brother was getting married in a year, and my parents were already using all their savings to buy him a house in the best area of the city. They didn’t even want him to take out a loan. But I was getting married next month, and they hadn’t contributed a penny—now they wanted to take all my savings. Why was this happening? “Then you can just take out a loan,” my father said from the side. “What kind of nonsense is that? The woman shouldn’t pay for the house. Look at your brother. His wife isn’t contributing anything. You should talk to Lucas and tell him that we’re not contributing,” he added dismissively. It felt like my heart had been crushed by a weight I couldn’t describe. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t even breathe. “I’ll think about it,” I muttered, needing some time to process the blows. “No need to think. I’ve already taken the money out. I was just testing you. I didn’t expect you to be such an ungrateful child,” my mother said coldly. “What?”I was stunned. “What do you mean, ‘what’? I found your card at home, so I just took it out. The password has always been the same, hasn’t it?” my mother said dismissively. I felt like the world was crashing down around me. I rushed into the room, grabbed my bank card, and ran out of the house, barely putting on a jacket. I headed straight to the bank. When I saw that the balance was zero, I leaned against the ATM, slowly sliding to the floor. $20,000. To withdraw it all without alerting the bank would take at least four months. They had been planning this for a long time. Growing up, they always told me that we were a family, and in a family, there should be no secrets. That’s why everyone’s passwords were public. I never imagined they had been setting this up all along. I had always naively believed that all loving families were like that. I had never coveted their privacy or their money, so I never tried to use their passwords. But I never expected that one day, they would take everything I had. In a daze, I picked up my phone and shakily opened my Messenger app, typing in my father’s account number. Times had changed quickly, and they no longer used that app, so I assumed the password hadn’t been changed. A moment later, I saw the “incorrect password” error message and forced out a bitter smile. I tried my mother’s and brother’s accounts as well. None of them worked. It turned out that all these years, the only one whose password was public was me. Chapter 2 Knock knock knock. There was a knock at the door. I looked up and saw a tall, slender man standing outside. “Miss, are you okay? Do you need help?” The man appeared to be in his thirties, wearing casual athletic clothes, his posture tall and straight. I propped myself up and stood, reminding myself that this was a public place, and I shouldn’t delay the normal flow of things. I shook my head and said, “I’m fine, sorry to take up your time.” I turned to leave. A few seconds later, I heard the man calling from behind, “Miss, you dropped your card!” I waved my hand, not turning around. What use could he have for the card? To remind me that I’m a complete fool? To remind me that I’ve been living in lies all this time? I walked aimlessly down the street, surrounded by bustling crowds and the endless flow of cars, but I felt completely detached from it all. Just then, my phone vibrated. Since I started working, my phone had never been set to ringtone mode. The caller ID displayed “Manager Jason.” It might be the result of the year-end evaluations. I had worked diligently all year, taking no more than 30 days off, with countless overtime hours. Manager Jason had promised to help me apply for the year-end evaluation and possibly earn me a bonus. Considering my empty wallet now, any bonus would at least provide some comfort. I took a deep breath to steady myself and answered the call, “Hello, Manager Jason.” “Amelia, there’s something I need to tell you,” Manager Jason’s voice was calm, but I had a bad feeling. “What is it, Manager Jason?” I feigned calmness. “About the evaluation… you didn’t make it,” Manager Jason sighed. “The boss’s nephew got selected.” “Amelia, we can see your effort, but unfortunately, it didn’t work out this time. Keep at it, and next year’s evaluation will definitely be yours.” “Okay, Manager Jason. I’ll work hard,” I said, calmly hanging up the phone. What else could I say? Argue with Manager Jason? What difference would it make? It was just… a little sad. Family was a disappointment, and now work was a disappointment too. Thinking about how I’d have to go back to work tomorrow, I felt an overwhelming sense of frustration. I decided to indulge myself for a moment and pulled out my phone to send Manager Jason a message: “Manager Jason, I’ve finished all the work I had on hand. I’m thinking of taking my annual leave. Do you think that would be alright?” Within three minutes, Manager Jason replied: “Amelia, take a good rest. When you come back, we’ll get back to work. I have high hopes for you.” I gave a bitter smile and quickly submitted a leave request through the company system. Despite many overtime hours going unapproved, I found that I had 15 days of leave plus compensatory time off. I clicked submit without hesitation. Three minutes later, the notification popped up: Manager Jason had approved the request. For a moment, I wasn’t sure whether to feel happy or sad. Happy that I now had so many days off. Sad because it became clear that I wasn’t as indispensable as I thought. The reason I hadn’t taken leave earlier was because I had always believed that the company wouldn’t run without me. But now, I realized it didn’t really matter. I suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for the version of myself who had worked tirelessly. At that moment, I didn’t know yet that this wasn’t the worst of it. Chapter 3 I couldn’t go home, and I didn’t need to work overtime. For a moment, I didn’t know where to go. I checked the time—it was already six. Lucas should be off work by now, so I decided to pick him up. It used to be me working overtime while he waited for me downstairs at the office. This time, I had some free time, so I thought I’d surprise him and go pick him up. On the way, I stopped at a familiar flower shop and bought a bouquet. Romance knows no gender, right? While swiping my card, I pulled up the hidden messenger account linked to a bank card my family didn’t know about. Thanks to my best friend,Sarah, who dragged me five years ago to open a new bank account and repeatedly told me not to tell anyone about this card. She also made me set this card as the default for my bonuses and some freelance income. Over the years, this card had accumulated quite a sum. I was grateful to myself for not telling anyone about it. Otherwise, I’d probably be a truly pitiful person—disappointed in both family and work, with an empty wallet and no home to return to. Though things were still pretty bad now, at least I still had money. I carefully picked out the bouquet, then went to a nearby beauty store and spent some money getting my makeup done. Afterward, I took a taxi to Lucas’s office building. I had planned to surprise him, but what I didn’t expect was that I would be the one receiving the “surprise.” At 6:30, Lucas appeared downstairs from his office. I straightened my clothes, holding the flowers and preparing to give him the surprise. But just as I took a few steps, I saw a well-dressed woman running toward him, spinning around and throwing herself into his arms. The next moment, they kissed. The flowers fell from my hand, and I stood frozen in shock. Two blows in a single day were already too much. Who would have thought that fortune wouldn’t come in twos, but misfortune surely wouldn’t come alone? With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and recorded a video. At least this way, I wouldn’t have to explain why the money for the house was gone. Now, work had failed me, family had failed me, and now love had failed me too. I couldn’t say I was heartbroken anymore. At this point, I felt numb. The things that used to support me seemed to have disappeared all at once. I once had a happy family, a stable relationship, and a promising job. But today… today, in less than a day—hell, not even twelve hours—I discovered that the once-happy family was a bubble, the seemingly stable love that was supposed to lead to marriage was already shattered, and what I thought was a promising job was just someone else dangling a carrot in front of me. Once, I was busy with work every day, then spent time after work on my relationship, and after that, I’d enjoy time with family. But now, I had nowhere to go, nothing to do. I found a McDonald’s and ordered a kids’ meal. While eating, I played with the toy that came with it, zoning out. After finishing the pitiful little burger and snack, I ordered another burger meal. I hadn’t eaten fried chicken in six months because I wanted to look good for the wedding. But now? Who cares. After eating the fries and licking my fingers, I checked for the next available flight to the city I’d wanted to visit for the past three years—Asheville. I didn’t need to pack anything. I’d buy whatever I needed when I got there. Though I didn’t have much money, I figured it would be enough to get me through the next few days. As for what would happen after that, I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. No use thinking too much about it. Once, I thought about marrying Lucas, about what kind of wedding dress I’d wear and what kind of celebration I’d have. But what was the point of preparing so much? Things that weren’t under my control never would be. Just then, Lucas’s call came through. Thinking about how he had just kissed another woman made me feel disgusted. I wanted to reject the call, but then I thought I should at least hear his explanation, so I answered it: “Hello?” Lucas’s voice was as deep and pleasant as always: “Amelia, what are you doing?” “I’m eating. I’ll be working overtime later. How about you? Have you eaten?” I don’t know if it was my imagination, but when I mentioned working overtime, I felt like Lucas breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m also working overtime. You should rest early tonight and not overwork yourself.” Hearing him say he was working overtime made me sneer internally. “Overtime, huh? You’re too busy kissing your new girlfriend.” After hanging up, I sent him the video I had just recorded and added a simple message: “Let’s break up.” Then, I blocked all his contact details. I didn’t care to go back and figure out when exactly he strayed. It didn’t matter. Just like why I didn’t get the year-end evaluation—none of that mattered now. All I wanted was to enjoy this rare moment of free time. After finishing everything, I let out a satisfied burp, handed the toy to a little kid who had been eyeing it, and left to catch a taxi to the airport. At least I had my ID with me. Chapter 4 By the time I arrived in Asheville, it was already midnight. Recently, it was peak tourist season, and all the nearby hotels were fully booked. After searching around, the only available option was a hostel, but it was just a spot in the common room for backpackers to sleep overnight. Well, I thought, I’ll just find a place to sleep for now and figure things out tomorrow. The hostel had self-check-in. I opened the door with the address and password from the booking message. It wasn’t very big—two floors. The upper floor had four rooms: two for men and two for women, with one room for six people. The lower floor had a common room and a few shared spaces like a kitchen. I entered the door and found the common room empty, though I could vaguely hear laughter and voices coming from upstairs. The sofa was big enough, and I was tired and had no luggage. So, I didn’t bother to freshen up and simply lay down on the couch, fully clothed, and fell asleep. Oddly enough, I often suffered from insomnia at home and would frequently have nightmares when I did sleep. But I never expected to sleep so well in this unfamiliar place on an unfamiliar bed. I slept soundly, and when I woke up, it was already 6 AM. The upstairs was quiet, likely because no one had gotten up yet. I couldn’t sleep anymore, so I got up and poured myself a glass of water. As I turned around, I noticed a man sitting at the dining table by the door. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t immediately place where I had seen him before. When he saw me looking at him, he smiled and greeted me. “Hello, I’m Nicola. I’m the owner of this place.” “Ah, hello, I’m Amelia,” I said, nodding. He looked gentle, and the early morning sun shining on his face made his features appear softer. “Hello, Amelia. You haven’t checked in yet, right?” “Yes, when I arrived yesterday, the customer service said I could stay for the night and check in when the staff came in.” Nicola smiled. “The volunteers went out to play and haven’t come back yet, and I’m still in City A, not back yet.” “I’ll help you check in now,” he said. I nodded. “Okay.” After completing the check-in, I poured myself a cup of hot water and sat on the sofa, looking around. I hadn’t paid attention the night before, being so tired that I just collapsed into bed. There were a lot of things around, though it wasn’t messy—just a cozy and functional setup. In the corner of the living room, there were several suitcases scattered about. The dining table was large with many power strips, all plugged in and filled to the brim. “Nicola, why did you decide to open a hostel?” I asked, feeling curious. There was nothing to do at the moment, and since Nicola seemed free too, I decided to strike up a casual conversation. “I went backpacking when I was in school more than ten years ago, and back then, I stayed in hostels. As I grew older, I thought it would be nice to run a place like that, where I could welcome people like the younger me. So when I had some extra money, I opened this one here,” Nicola explained. He handed me a cup of freshly ground coffee. “Just made it. Try it.” I took the cup. “Thank you.” The coffee smelled amazing, and there was a sun-shaped pattern in the foam. It was clear Nicola was attentive and romantic. “Did you go out on business yesterday?” I asked, recalling that Nicola had said he was still in City A the day before. I found it strange—while this was a hostel, with no staff around, it felt a little too casual. “You and the staff weren’t here. Isn’t that too risky? What if something happens?” I asked. Nicola suddenly laughed. “I was working yesterday. Today is my day off, so I flew here.” “Working?” I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights. “You were working?” “Yep, working,” Nicola said with a grin, his eyes narrowing into slits. “I have my own job. This place is mostly run by volunteers. They don’t get paid, just get free accommodation in exchange.” He really was a genius. I thought to myself, balancing a full-time job and running a hostel, with volunteers as staff. This truly seemed like a no-risk, high-reward business. “Aren’t you worried something might go wrong?” I asked, taking a sip of the coffee. “If something goes wrong, we’ll just solve it. But it usually doesn’t get too out of hand,” Nicola said, leaning back against the sofa. “I only take guests under 30 here. Most people of that age choose to stay in hostels for three reasons.” “First, students on backpacking trips during holidays—generally, they’re pure-hearted and have no ill intentions. Second, people who’ve started working—those who stay here usually don’t like the monotony of life and want to meet new people and experience new things. They tend not to cause any problems. Lastly, people who are struggling with work and can’t afford a nice hotel, so they stay here temporarily while looking for a job. These people usually don’t have bad intentions because they’re all in the same boat. Sure, there are some who might try to take advantage, but that’s rare. If it does happen and it’s not caught in time, we just have to accept it.” Nicola spoke quickly and without hesitation, then took another sip of coffee. “We have to believe that there are more good people in the world than bad,” he added. I found myself lost in thought. Are there more good people in the world? Then what about the people around me?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295425”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #校园School #魔幻Magic #重生Reborn #惊悚Thriller

Before my mother passed away, she had wished for a grandchild. However, my wife, who disliked children, refused to have one. But when her beloved “Adeline” fell gravely ill and wanted a child to carry on his lineage, she changed her mind and decided to have a baby for him. My father-in-law was worried I might cause trouble. So, while I was volunteering in a remote countryside, he bribed a female student to falsely accuse me of misconduct. I was imprisoned and only cleared of the charges a year later. On the day my wife gave birth, my mother-in-law held her hand and reassured her: “Fiona, don’t worry. Your dad and Asher are just outside the delivery room. They won’t let him cause any trouble.” Even when the baby cried, I never appeared. My wife was pleased, thinking I had finally learned my lesson and wouldn’t make a fuss over Adeline anymore. She never understood—it’s just about leaving a child for Adeline—why couldn’t I just empathize with her? She thought generously that if I visited her in the hospital the next day, she might consider letting me be the child’s nominal father. But she didn’t know, I was completely disheartened. In ten days, I would be leaving as a volunteer teacher in a conflict zone, never intending to see her again in this life.

The day I filled out the volunteer teacher registration form was the very day Fiona Lin was discharged from the hospital. Bringing home my resignation paperwork, I witnessed their family of five in the living room, basking in joy. Fiona Lin was wearing a maternity dress, happily nestled in Asher Young’s arms. My mother-in-law fondly kissed the baby’s cheek: “Look, this child’s eyes are like Fiona’s, but the features resemble Asher. He’ll surely grow up to be a handsome young man.” My father-in-law beamed, smiling: “Yes, this child is destined for greatness. Luckily, he’s Asher’s child. If he were Ethan Quinn’s, he might have a hard life!” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but mock myself. There was a time when my father-in-law was proud of me being a teacher. During family visits, he often boasted about me. But now, everything changed. I became the target of his disdain, labeled as having a “hard life.” How ridiculous. Three years ago, when I volunteered to teach in a remote countryside, Fiona Lin, teary-eyed, said she was proud of me and would wait at home for my return. My in-laws were equally moved, praising me: “Ethan, you are the pride of Mom and Dad. We will wait for you to come back with Fiona!” When I first went, I struggled with the harsh conditions and climate, falling sick frequently, and nearly dying due to a lack of medication. But I pushed through, driven by the desire to return to my family. Until the third year of my teaching, a friend told me my wife was pregnant. “Ethan? Why didn’t you say you were coming back?” Asher Young spoke as if he were the head of the house, naturally blaming me. Fiona Lin and my in-laws turned to look at me. My father-in-law frowned, seeing my resignation papers, and reproached: “Fiona just gave birth and needs to recuperate. Raising a child requires money. You just got reinstated as a teacher, and you dare to quit?!” “Prison must have fried your brain! I must have been blind to let my daughter marry you!” Fiona Lin was also impatient, speaking coldly: “Ethan, you spent a year in jail, and the family is barely getting by! What about the child now that you don’t have a job?” Hearing this, I sneered: “Is this child mine? What does it have to do with me?” Fiona Lin’s face darkened, glaring at me: “Just because the child isn’t biologically yours, you won’t raise it? Ethan, you’re so selfish!” “Three years ago, I had a car accident. If not for Asher, I would’ve died! He has liver cancer now and is dying soon. I just wanted to give him a child to continue his bloodline. Are you really so petty and jealous?” Hearing this, mockery flashed in Asher Young’s eyes, but he feigned pitifully: “Ethan, the child will call you dad from a young age. Won’t it become your child when it grows up?” “If you’re upset because of me, I can leave. After all, I’m about to die. Just take care of my loved ones and child.” He said he would leave, but didn’t move an inch. Fiona Lin immediately held him back, her eyes full of pain: “Asher, where can you go? You don’t have much time left.” Not much time left? Diagnosed with liver cancer a year ago, yet still lively now. Is this what they call not having much time? It’s just an excuse from Fiona Lin! Fiona Lin looked at me coldly, speaking impatiently: “Ethan, if you behave and don’t cause trouble, you’ll still have a place in this family!” “In ten days, it’s the child’s one-month birthday banquet. Attend as the child’s father to avoid gossiping about our family, understand?!” Ten days from now is when I leave for overseas. Since that’s the case, I’ll give them a big gift before I go! I said nothing, turned, and went to my room.

I packed my luggage, but outside, endless laughter continued. “Asher, rest assured, I promise Ethan will only ever be the nominal father to the child. I won’t hide this from the child.” “The child will take the surname Young, not Quinn.” Hearing this, it felt like shards of glass tore through my heart, causing sharp pain. I remembered a year ago, during the New Year, when I filed a report to return from the mountains. Opening the door, I saw Asher Young. He frowned, asking who I was and who I was looking for in his house. As confusion about whether I had entered the wrong house set in, Fiona Lin walked out with a pregnant belly. Seeing me, her eyes showed no joy, only panic and helplessness. “Honey, aren’t you teaching in the mountains? Why did you suddenly come back?” Hearing this, Asher Young showed no panic but greeted me as if he were the host. “Ethan, I planned to hide it from you, but since you’re back, there’s no point.” “Let me introduce myself. I’m the biological father of the child in your wife’s belly…” He smiled as he spoke, but I couldn’t hear the rest. What did he say? Fiona Lin is pregnant with his child! Before my mother died, she longed for a grandchild. Fiona Lin coldly refused, citing her dislike for children. But now, she had an affair and conceived for this man! I lost my mind, tackling Asher Young, punching him repeatedly, venting my grievance and rage! At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to kill this shameless pair! Fiona Lin screamed, but with her pregnant belly, she dared not approach, so she called the police. The arriving officers restrained me. After understanding the situation, they awkwardly said it was a domestic issue for us to resolve. My in-laws rushed over, urging the police to arrest me for “disturbing the peace” to “cool me down.” They took Asher to the hospital with care, while the police took me away, leaving me with no home to return to, locked in a cold cell for seven days. I realized that this home no longer had a place for me. Everything about me was replaced by another. My DINK wife bore a child for him. My in-laws treated him as the perfect son-in-law. And I was nothing more than an obsolete object. Seven days later, Fiona Lin came reluctantly with her pregnant belly to pick me up. “Ethan, can you stop causing trouble? Asher is not in good health and is about to die. I just want to leave him a child before he goes.” “He’s willing to let his child call you dad, why can’t you learn from him and be more magnanimous?” Hearing this, I buried my head in darkness, my voice slightly hoarse: “Then why didn’t you want to have a child with me when my mother died?” Fiona Lin fell silent, but I already knew the answer. In that moment, I felt like a joke. I left the police station and didn’t follow Fiona Lin. After all, that was no longer my home. However, at that moment, the internet was flooded with news that my female student falsely accused me of defiling her, even producing surveillance of me leaving her house at night, but I was merely tutoring her out of kindness. Yet, no matter how I explained, it was all in vain. Everyone condemned me, the police took me, my in-laws cursed me, Fiona Lin said I was unfit to be her husband. I was jailed for a year, carrying a notorious reputation. It wasn’t until my lawyer found evidence proving the female student lied that I was exonerated, cleared of infamy, and reinstated. Fiona Lin walked in. “Ethan, at least you’re sensible. Pack up and sleep in the study. Asher and I still need to take care of the child at night.” “Asher… doesn’t have long to live. You don’t need to be jealous of a dying man. I just want him to be happy in his final days…” Fiona Lin wanted to explain more, but I didn’t want to listen. An affair is an affair. With a cold face, I took my luggage to the study. It was late; I’d find a hotel tomorrow. But just as I was about to fall asleep, indecent sounds came from the master bedroom next door. “Asher… a bit gentler, the house isn’t soundproof.” “Isn’t that better?” “Asher… he doesn’t have much time left. You don’t need to be upset over someone who’s dying. I just want him to enjoy his last days…” Fiona Lin tried to explain further, but I didn’t want to hear it. Cheating is cheating. With a cold expression, I took my luggage to the study. It was too late to find a hotel tonight; I would look for one tomorrow. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, inappropriate noises came from the master bedroom next door. “Asher… take it easy, the walls aren’t soundproof.” “Isn’t it more exciting that way?” “You’re incorrigible… I meant don’t wake the child.” So much for their happiness. Holding my wife and making sure I could hear everything—could they flaunt their joy any more? Fiona Lin, you truly are heartless.

The next day, before dawn, I took my luggage to the education bureau to finalize the paperwork. Unexpectedly, a staff member exclaimed: “Are you Teacher Ethan? It’s me, Peach! Are you… heading abroad to volunteer teach?” It turned out to be a former student who had joined the education bureau. We chatted, exchanged contact information, and I left after completing the paperwork. At the mall and supermarket, I was planning to buy gifts for children in the war zone when I unexpectedly ran into Fiona Lin with her family of five. “Ethan, what are you doing here? You’re not working as a supermarket clerk, are you?” Asher Young, looking sharp in a burgundy suit, chimed in. On hearing this, my father-in-law immediately scolded: “Ethan Quinn, have you lost your mind?” “If word gets out, you’ll disgrace the Lewis family again!” Fiona Lin, with a cold and impatient demeanor, reproached me: “I told you not to volunteer teach, but you didn’t listen! What good has it done you?” “You spent a year in jail for nothing, dragging us down with you. Now that your name is cleared, you’re not even taking your teaching job and instead working as a store clerk!” I couldn’t help but mock myself. Once, Fiona Lin said she admired people like me, ordinary yet noble. She was proud of me. But now, her tone was full of blame and disdain. Time can truly change a person, or maybe, it’s just that love is gone. My mother-in-law, holding a child, rolled her eyes at me: “When you go out, don’t say you know us. Just say you and Fiona are divorced.” “It’s embarrassing! Let’s go somewhere else, this is such bad luck.” Hearing this, Asher Young wore a mocking smile but pretended to hesitate: “Isn’t that bad? Ethan is earning money for my child’s baby formula.” “Let’s go, Asher. It’s his duty; otherwise, why would the child call him dad?” With that, Fiona Lin linked arms with Asher Young, surrounded by her parents, and left without looking back. Truly, they belong together. Since that’s the case, I’ll grant them their wish and divorce Fiona Lin! Before the one-month birthday banquet, I received a message from my lawyer. He learned from a female classmate that she was bribed by my father-in-law to slander me, asking if I wanted to sue or report it. My father-in-law paid to have me slandered and cyberbullied? I stared blankly at the message, feeling as if I had fallen into a dark hell. The insults and humiliation I suffered over the past year, and the more than three hundred days I spent in prison, were all thanks to my “beloved” father-in-law?! I clenched my fist involuntarily, wanting to rush to him and ask why he did this to me!! Just then, Fiona Lin’s family came over with the child. My father-in-law’s happy face turned dark the moment he saw me. “Ethan Quinn, you’re the child’s nominal father. It’s the child’s one-month party today. How can you be so indifferent?” “Dressing like this! Can’t you learn from Asher? You’re embarrassing us!” I stared at him, about to speak, but Asher Young immediately chimed in, dissatisfied: “Exactly! Ethan, have you been in prison so long that you’ve lost your sense of priority?! “My child’s one-month milestone, and you’re so casually dressed. Even if the child is mine, he still has to call you dad!” My mother-in-law also rolled her eyes, holding the child with a sarcastic tone: “He’s not a teacher anymore; he’s a junior store clerk. It’s normal he can’t afford good clothes.” Seeing this, Fiona Lin pulled me aside with a stern face. “Ethan Quinn, stay here, keep your head down, and don’t embarrass us.” “And after the banquet, quit that clerk job! Cry, beg, whatever, get back to teaching! Stop embarrassing me!” With that, she turned and left. Looking at their retreating figures, I was fuming with anger. They slandered me and got me imprisoned, and now they keep belittling me, wanting me to be a fool to raise their child?! Do they really think they have me cornered?! Well, I’ll give them an even bigger gift at the banquet later!

Not long after, the one-month banquet began, and the hall was filled with friends and family. “Ethan?! Ugh, how did this scumbag get out?!” “Probably here for the child, what a beast. Has a wife and child, yet violated a female student!” Those who didn’t know I was wrongfully accused recognized me and spat insults, keeping their distance. I remained expressionless, explaining nothing. Then, the staff brought in a large family photo, showing Fiona Lin and Asher Young’s family of five, but I was absent. Someone wondered, “Why isn’t Ethan Quinn in it? Who’s the guy holding his wife, is it her brother?” I smiled and responded: “That’s Fiona Lin’s husband. I’m her ex.” Hearing this, everyone around me was shocked. They whispered and spread the news throughout the hall. Sensing something was wrong, my in-laws pulled me aside, threatening: “The friends and family here don’t know you were wronged. If you keep causing trouble, don’t blame us for using this as an excuse to kick you out!” “If it weren’t for the Lewis family’s reputation, we wouldn’t let a loser like you be our grandson’s dad!” Fiona Lin also came over with a stern face: “Ethan Quinn, today is your child’s one-month party. You should know what to say and what not to say. If you speak out of line, don’t blame me for divorcing you!” I calmly nodded, assuring them I wouldn’t “cause trouble.” They let me go, and the family smiled as they went on stage. Fiona Lin took the microphone, happily saying: “Dear friends and family, welcome to my son’s one-month celebration. I believe the happiest moment in a woman’s life is marrying a good husband.” “And even happier, having a child with that husband. Because when the child appears in the world, it represents happiness becoming tangible!” She spoke passionately, occasionally gazing lovingly at Asher Young. But when her eyes landed on me, her warmth vanished instantly. Seeing this, I smiled and walked on stage, her expression changed, and she whispered cautiously: “Ethan Quinn, what are you doing?” “Today is the child’s one-month party. As your ‘husband,’ I naturally have something to say.” Fiona Lin frowned, but under the watchful eyes of all, she could only grit her teeth and warn me softly: “If you dare speak out of line, don’t blame me for never letting it go!” Not only was Fiona Lin’s face full of panic, but Asher Young and her parents were also wary. I even saw my father-in-law clench his fist, ready to stop me if I said anything wrong. I smiled faintly, reassuring them I wouldn’t speak out of line. “First, as the child’s ‘father’ and Fiona Lin’s ‘husband,’ I thank all the friends and family for coming from afar to celebrate the child’s one-month.” Seeing me so docile, Fiona Lin’s eyes flashed with joy, and she breathed a sigh of relief. But Asher Young and my in-laws showed a hint of disdain and mockery. Seeing this, I immediately changed my tone: “But I must tell everyone the truth about the child! This child isn’t mine! It’s the child of Fiona Lin and this man, Asher Young!” Hearing this, the faces of all the friends and family changed, especially those on my side, who angrily slammed the table. Seeing this, Fiona Lin immediately came to grab my microphone, Asher Young, and my in-laws frantically tried to control me. I dodged them and continued: “Fiona Lin not only had a child with someone else, but she also wanted me to claim this child and raise it for them! This is outrageous!” “As a husband, I refuse to take the blame! As a teacher, I refuse to lie and cover up!” “From today, Fiona Lin, I want a divorce!” With that, I voluntarily dropped the microphone, slamming down a divorce agreement in front of everyone. Fiona Lin quickly picked up the microphone, her eyes red with tears as she cried out to everyone: “Ethan Quinn! What nonsense are you talking about! It’s not like you said!” I sidestepped their attempts to interrupt and continued speaking: “Fiona Lin didn’t just have a child with someone else; now she wants me to accept and raise this child. It’s absolutely preposterous!” “As a husband, I won’t take the fall for their actions! And as a teacher, I refuse to lie and cover for them!” “From today onwards, Fiona Lin, I want a divorce!” With that, I set down the microphone and presented a divorce agreement on the table for all to see. Fiona Lin quickly picked up the microphone, tears brimming in her eyes as she cried out to everyone: “Ethan Quinn! What are you saying? That’s not true at all!” My father-in-law, furious, grabbed my shirt and slammed me onto the table, shouting: “You little scoundrel, I knew you had bad intentions!” “Friends and family, don’t believe him! He’s lying! Watch me deal with this deceitful scum who even preys on his female students!” He grabbed a bottle of liquor, ready to smash it over my head! Just then, the doors burst open, and a group of police officers rushed in! “Stop!” Seeing the police, my father-in-law was momentarily stunned but then laughed heartily: “Ethan Quinn! You’ve done wrong for so long, and now it’s catching up to you! Look, the police have come to arrest you!” “Officer, quickly take this criminal away!” My mother-in-law had a grim expression as well. “Ethan Quinn, this is your comeuppance! The law won’t let any wrongdoer go unpunished! This proves that Asher Young is the better son-in-law for us!” Hearing this, I smirked, “Oh really? Are you sure the police are here for me?” The next moment, the police approached and presented an arrest warrant, but the suspect’s name wasn’t mine. “Gideon Lin! You’re suspected of false accusations and framing! Please come with us for questioning!”

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I’m going to meet my girlfriend’s family. To my surprise, her entire family consists of my ex-girlfriends… Her older sister, younger sister, and even her aunt. And yes, her mom too. They were all women I used to idolize. Now that I’ve moved on, they’re the ones who seem anxious. My girlfriend’s younger sister, sporting a ponytail, playfully tugged on my sleeve and asked, “I’m just eighteen, brother-in-law. Can I date you?” Her elder sister, wearing a stern expression, cornered me against the wall and said, “If you break up with my sister, you’ll be the one in charge… for all of us.” My girlfriend’s wealthy mom opened a drawer filled with property deeds and car keys, throwing them at me, saying, “Thirty million, leave my daughter and be with me.” Surrounded by my ex-girlfriends at my girlfriend’s house, I feel overwhelmed. The former me, the hopeless romantic, feels like giving up. “Don’t be nervous, my family is really nice. They’ll definitely like you,” Grace reassured me as we stepped out of the car. She noticed my sweaty back and gave me a comforting kiss. I muttered a vague response, trying to appear calm, but inside I was a mess. To be honest, I used to be quite the hopeless romantic. Before Grace, there were five women I admired: a wealthy woman, a girl with a ponytail, a mature woman with glasses, a girl who played innocent, and Grace herself, who was the pure-hearted one. Last night, in a drunken haze, I accepted Grace’s confession and agreed to meet her family for the New Year. I heard her siblings were all orphans adopted by a wealthy widow. The thought of being surrounded by women in her house made my scalp tingle. So, I messaged the other four overnight: “Goodbye, I’m done being a pushover!” I blocked and deleted them, feeling refreshed. The phone buzzed again. I secretly opened it to find the ponytail girl crying and pleading, “Brother, brother,” begging me not to delete her. It’s crazy; when I was chasing her, she barely acknowledged me. Now that I’ve stopped, she’s chasing after me. I quickly turned off the phone. “Let’s go, my family is eager to meet you,” Grace said, taking my hand and knocking on the villa door. “So, do your family have any customs for first meetings like bowing? Should I call them Auntie or…?” Before I could finish, a woman opened the door, and Grace called her mom. I forced a smile, looked up, and felt my vision darken, my knees went weak, and I collapsed to the ground. Grace was startled and quickly helped me up: “Milo, we don’t have such formalities at home, you don’t need to bow like that…” My legs felt glued to the ground, and I couldn’t get up. I even felt like kowtowing to the woman in front of me. Sophia. Isn’t this the wealthy woman I used to admire? My idol is actually my current girlfriend’s mom? The former me, the hopeless romantic, feels like giving up.

“Mom, Milo is just really shy. He’s too nervous meeting you for the first time, please don’t blame him,” Grace explained as she tried to pull me up but couldn’t. “Oh, Milo, is it? If you hadn’t said, I would’ve thought your name was David,” Sophia said with a hint of gritted teeth. That’s right, the fake name I gave her was David. No one uses their real name when they’re trying to impress someone. “Milo, why don’t you dare to look up? Are you ashamed?” “I…I…I…my neck hurts, I need to see a doctor…” “Then get up first.” “I…I…I…got athlete’s foot, can’t get up, I need to see a doctor…” “Grace, call Dr. Brown to come over and check on Mr. Milo.” I had no choice but to shakily get up. Grace wanted to support me, but her mom gave her a fierce glare. This woman has a possessive streak. At a previous banquet, a female manager glanced at my behind a few times, and she got fired that night. I even heard she got roughed up on her way home, and Sophia gave her two million to leave the city. “A…Auntie, hi,” I said, nearly in tears. “We’re family, no need to be so formal, call me Mom.” She looked like she was in her early thirties, leaning against the door, smiling, but her eyes carried a murderous intent. She even kindly wiped off Grace’s lipstick from my face with her well-maintained hands and then pinched me hard with her nails. “Milo, I told you my family would like you!” Grace was grinning like a fool, “Don’t be nervous, just listen to Mom.” Please, just stop talking!!! “Mom…” I weakly called. Sophia nodded in satisfaction. Grace was smiling like a happy puppy. Then came the sound of something being smashed inside, followed by a girl’s crying. “Is that…Maggie?” Grace was puzzled, “Why is she crying?” “Got deceived by a man.” After Sophia said that, she seemed to remember something, and her face turned sour. “Little Maggie, always with her head in the clouds…” Grace shook her head, “How much did she get cheated out of this time?” “This time, nothing.” Sophia punched the door, “But it’s worse than losing money! Such a disgrace!” “Huh?” “She’s been in an online relationship with a guy for months, and last night he told her he’s in his forties, divorced with three kids…” My heart stopped for a second. This…sounds just like the excuse I used last night to break up with the ponytail girl? “…” Grace awkwardly comforted, “Little Maggie is young, it’s normal for her to be tricked by such a sly old man. Now that she understands, after a couple of days of crying, it’ll pass, don’t be angry, Mom.” The sly old man was getting more anxious listening. Clearly, she looked down on me while taking photos with various men for Instagram every day. Now it sounds like I’m the jerk? However, it’s almost a half online relationship. The name I gave the ponytail girl wasn’t real, and she didn’t see my face clearly, so there shouldn’t be any problem. I felt relieved. “You think it’s that simple! She’s hired private detectives nationwide to catch that guy!” “It seems they’ve already located him, somewhere in this area.” Sophia clenched her fist, “It’s good if they find him, daring to disgrace our family, I’ll personally sell that old man to Myanmar!” The old man dropped to his knees again. Grace panicked: “Milo, what’s hurting now?” Tears streamed down my face: “My kidney hurts.”

Grace rushed to have the French chef make grilled lamb kidneys for me, saying that eating what hurts will help. She wanted to help me, but Sophia glared at her again. “My mom has a strict personality, don’t mind her,” Grace whispered, “But she really likes you, I’ve never seen her smile so happily.” Please just stop talking. She smiled the same way when she beat that person into the hospital! I saw it clearly! I wanted to escape, but couldn’t. Because Sophia locked the door with eighteen turns. Clearly not wanting me to leave alive. Her face was icy, walking beside me, her eyes kept glancing at my butt. I recently had hemorrhoid surgery, so my walk isn’t quite normal. Haven’t worked out in a while, muscles are a bit loose. Oh right, she likes men with good physiques. To keep my abs and butt, if I secretly ate a cake, she’d nag me like my mom for two weeks. When taking me to banquets, she’d have me change a hundred times, and finally make a face and say, “Forget it, just like that.” She’s a bit of a feminist. Of course, I wouldn’t dare say that, since she gives so much. Uh…wait, seeing me like this, shouldn’t she be disgusted? Why are her eyes red? Before I could think it through, a vase flew towards my head. Alright! I can justifiably play dead! I stuck out my big forehead to meet it. Sophia panicked, stepped in front of me, and the vase shattered on her head. This darn girlfriend…mother-in-law strength. “Trying to play dead?” Sophia whispered near my shoulder, her breath like orchids, “I’ll deal with you tonight.” Then, without caring for her swollen forehead, she stormed into the living room, angrily scolding the crying girl: “Enough with the tantrum! Aren’t you ashamed enough?” The girl was pinned to the ground, crying and fussing, completely ignoring Sophia’s scolding. “I don’t care! I’ve decided on Little Bob for life! Let me out! I want to find him!” Sophia looked around angrily, grabbed the belt from my waist, and wrapped it around her hand: “Say it again?” “I…” Before she could finish, the belt lashed out. A long red mark appeared on her porcelain-like face. “You might as well kill me, or I’ll definitely go find Little Bob!” The girl looked soft and cute, but unexpectedly stubborn. “Fine! Get out! If you leave today, I’ll consider you not my daughter!” My heart skipped a beat. If you let her out, with so many private detectives, what if they find me??? Or…maybe just beat her to death… Seeing the girl head straight for the door, I quickly rushed to block her. “Maggie, right? Listen to your brother-in-law, have you considered that he might be ugly, which is why he doesn’t dare meet you?” “I don’t mind, I like ugly.” “Uh…brother-in-law will introduce you to someone even uglier.” “I don’t care, he’s the ugliest.” I smiled, really wanting Sophia to give her a few more lashes. But when she looked up, her round face, with those crying almond eyes, looked like a pitiful little puppy. How about… you just knock some sense into her… Seeing the girl heading out without hesitation, I quickly intercepted her. “Maggie, right? Listen to your brother-in-law. Have you considered that maybe he doesn’t want to meet you because he thinks he’s too unattractive?” “I don’t mind, I actually like the unattractive ones.” “Um… well, how about I introduce you to someone even more unattractive?” “I don’t care, he’s the most unattractive.” I smiled, almost thinking Grace should give her a few more warnings. But then she looked up, her little round face with those almond eyes red from crying, resembling a pitiful puppy. Her previously fair cheeks had a sunset-like red mark, making her even more endearing. I softened. From my years of being a ‘nice guy,’ I know that with someone this love-struck, harsh words or actions won’t work. You have to be gentle. “What if he suddenly tells you he’s divorced with three kids? Have you thought about why that might be?” I gently tousled her hair. “He must have his reasons. Chasing him around like this, do you realize how much pressure that puts on him?” Pressure that could make him not want to live anymore! “So just give him some time, trust your brother-in-law. When he sorts things out, he’ll come back to you.” If not, after a few days, he might change his life entirely, maybe even become a monk to escape all you former goddesses! Maggie listened, obediently nuzzling her head against my hand like a cute puppy. “Brother-in-law, listening to you makes me feel better.” She looked up, wiping her big teary eyes. “It feels like talking to Little Bobby.” Girl, you really shouldn’t say that! “Yeah, I’ll listen to you and wait a bit before looking for Little Bobby again.” I breathed a sigh of relief, almost wanting to hug her tightly. “So, while I’m calm these days, can brother-in-law date me?” Me: ??? Grace: ??? Xena: ??? I walked up to Grace, took a deep breath: “May I borrow your belt? I swear I’ll knock some sense into this lovesick brain!” In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Grace had someone bring a rope to tie up Maggie, to keep her from running off impulsively. She was pinned to the ground, struggling non-stop, her wrists and ankles marked red, looking so pitiful. “Let me do it.” I felt sorry for her. She stopped struggling when she heard my voice. Obediently letting me tie her up. “Brother…” She raised her face, her eyes like the gentle rain in Jiangnan, like a little kitten caught in the rain. Just like the night I met her. That night, she was sitting on the railing by the bridge, with the river rolling below. She held a lighter, awkwardly trying to light the cigarette in her mouth. The wind was strong on the river, and she couldn’t light it after several attempts. The fleeting light lit up her innocent face, tears rolling down like big marbles. Like a broken porcelain doll. That moment of vulnerability moved me. “Need a light?” I stopped in front of her, lighting a cigarette. In the dark, there was rustling, her blurry little face coming closer, carrying a sweet scent. It reminded me of the Wong Lo Kat milk drink I had as a child. I held the cigarette in my mouth, bringing the lit end to her cigarette. I couldn’t see her face, but the warmth told me she was blushing. “Inhale,” I instructed her. She was clearly new to this, just staying close to me for a while. Realizing it, she clumsily took a puff, almost choking, nearly falling into the river. I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her back. “Jumping into the river?” Her shoes were off, and her bare feet were red from the cold. “My brother, whom I like, is getting married…” she mumbled, crying. “Not my business.” I cut her off. Some people are forced by life into corners, while others, living a privileged life, want to die for some ridiculous love. I don’t get it. “To jump, you do it like this.” I climbed the railing, leaping off. The winter river water was icy cold. She was shocked: “Why did you… why did you jump!” She hesitated for a long time, then there was a splash, and she was still yelling: “Don’t worry, I’m coming to save you… glug glug glug…” Me: … You can’t swim, sis?? I just wanted to scare her, who knew she’d try to save me. Seeing her sink, I sighed and swam over. Drowning people are more unpredictable than the rushing river. I watched her flailing arms and legs, not daring to get close, finding an opening, and punched her in the temple. She quieted down, sinking straight down. I dived, holding her, almost sinking with her. But thinking about becoming a gossip topic with a title like “Lovesick Woman’s Midnight Rendezvous” made me hold my breath and drag her ashore. I sighed, ready to leave, but heard her mumbling in her sleep: “Brother… don’t worry… I’m here to save you…” In the end, I spent a few cents calling 911 for her. They asked if she had any injuries besides drowning. I hesitated, then said: “Her right temple seems naturally more swollen than the left.” She was soaked, her newly developed body curled up in the cold wind. I covered her with her clothes, holding her to warm her up. She instinctively snuggled into my arms. Like a little octopus. Finally, hearing the ambulance, I pushed her back onto the ground. And slipped her wallet into my pocket, calling it a life-saving fee, so we’re even. Then I turned to leave. Who knew she’d stick to me. She got my number from 911, wanting me to call her Maggie, calling me “savior brother” every day, wanting to treat me to a meal to thank me. I dared not agree, what if she asked me to pay back the money. Later, seeing I ignored her, she started transferring thousands to me, saying she just wanted to talk. I didn’t take it. Though I love money, I don’t deceive fools. Instead, she clung even more, saying I was different from the other brothers she knew, who only treated her well when she gave them money. Turns out, you’re a suicidal ATM. Ignoring her, she’d call crying, sobbing pitifully, breaking my heart. I thought it would be annoying, but I found a new fascination. Why does her crying sound so good? My heart felt like it was being tickled by a little kitten, itchy and soft, even her rambling became pleasant. She cried about being an orphan, how she was adopted, how she was called dumb, how she couldn’t compare to her two non-blood-related sisters. She cried about how her ex-brothers treated her like an idiot. Classic case of lacking love. But her whimpering really touched me. Oh well, better she gets fooled by me, a nice guy, than by those jerks. At least I wouldn’t drive her to jump into the river. It’s for her own good. Kind of like rescuing a troubled girl, right? That’s how I justified it to myself, then continued to enjoy her sobbing. Later, she subtly hinted about being with me, but I didn’t agree. What a joke, giving up my great nice guy career for a little love-struck girl, no way! She seemed to relapse, starting to post photos with this brother and that brother on Instagram, tagging me. What on earth, I’m not a cuckold. Luckily it was too dark that night, she couldn’t recognize me. “Okay, that’s enough.” I finished tying up Maggie, exhaled deeply, and stood up. Then I saw Xena and Grace staring at me.

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The plush mattress dipped slightly under the weight of someone sitting down. The sound of labored breathing beside her told Olivia Brown that Adam Grant was finally home. Judging by the smell of bourbon on his breath, he must have had a few too many drinks at the corporate gala tonight. Adam was unusually restless—his rough hands were already tugging impatiently at the straps of her silk nightgown. But for the first time in their five years of marriage, Olivia didn’t give in. She gently pushed his hands away and spoke softly: “Adam, I’m tired.” Her voice was calm, but firm. Adam froze for a moment, his breath hitching in surprise. Then, with a low, irritated grunt, he turned over and said nothing more. In the darkness, Olivia blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes, wiping them away before they could fall. She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing down the tide of frustration and sadness. The truth was, Olivia had known from the very beginning that Adam didn’t love her. Their marriage had never been about love. Years ago, it had been Adam’s grandfather, Jacob Grant, who insisted on the union. Jacob had always been grateful to Olivia’s grandfather, who had saved his life decades ago, and he honored that debt by arranging a marriage between their grandchildren. Adam was the only son of the wealthy and powerful Grant family—a name that carried weight across the entire Pacific Northwest. Olivia, on the other hand, was no one special. She was just a poor girl from a small town, scraping by on scholarships and part-time jobs to get through college. She wouldn’t have even finished her degree if the Grant family hadn’t stepped in and sponsored her education. And when the time came, she married Adam without hesitation. Even though she knew he didn’t care for her, she had no regrets. Not because of the marriage contract, but because she’d fallen in love with him at first sight. From the moment they got married, Olivia threw herself into being the perfect wife. She learned how to cook Adam’s favorite meals, memorized his schedule, and made sure every detail of his life ran smoothly. She believed, deep down, that if she worked hard enough and loved him long enough, he would eventually love her back. But after five years of marriage, Adam’s feelings for her remained as cold and distant as ever. The final blow came just a few weeks ago. That day, Olivia had been feeling particularly low and decided to distract herself by tidying Adam’s study. While dusting the shelves, she accidentally knocked over a small wooden box that he usually kept locked away. As the lid creaked open, her breath caught in her throat. Inside, there were dozens of photographs of Adam and a woman named Hannah Wright—pictures that spanned years, from childhood to adulthood. The most recent one had been taken just last week when Hannah returned to the States. In the photo, Adam stood close to Hannah, his arm casually draped over her shoulder. His usually stoic expression was replaced with something Olivia had never seen before—softness, warmth, and the faintest hint of a smile. Hannah, meanwhile, wore a delicate necklace Olivia immediately recognized: The Desert Star. It was the same necklace Adam had once promised to buy for Olivia as a birthday gift. That was the moment Olivia realized the truth. Adam wasn’t incapable of love—he just didn’t love her. It was also the moment Olivia decided she couldn’t keep living like this. She had to leave him. The next morning, Adam woke up with a pounding headache. He pressed a hand to his temple, his voice hoarse as he asked, “Where’s my hangover cure?” Olivia froze for a moment before responding. The herbal remedy had been something she’d painstakingly learned to make after consulting with an old family recipe. It required hours of preparation—she used to wake up at 3 a.m. just to make sure it was ready for him in time. But lately, she had been too busy consulting with attorneys and planning her exit to bother with such things. “…Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I forgot.” Adam frowned, the irritation clear on his face. He pulled on his suit jacket, his tone clipped and dismissive as he said, “I won’t be home for dinner tonight. There’s a client meeting.” In the past, Olivia would have fussed over him, gently scolding him to take care of himself and not overwork. But now, she simply nodded, continuing to eat her breakfast without saying a word. Adam barely noticed her indifference. To him, these morning exchanges were just a routine—a formality he tolerated out of obligation. He assumed Olivia’s role as his wife meant she was always there, quietly supporting him in the background, no matter what. Normally, Olivia would have rushed through breakfast so she could help him with his tie, straighten his jacket, and polish his shoes before he left for work. Her own breakfast would go cold on the table, often left uneaten. She even developed chronic stomach issues from neglecting herself like this. But Adam had never noticed. Today, though, she took her time. She finished her meal slowly and deliberately, savoring every bite. She’d made up her mind: she wasn’t going to sacrifice herself for this marriage anymore. For five years, she had lived in a constant state of anxiety, always trying to win Adam’s approval, always hoping for a love that would never come. But now, she was done. It was time to let go of the marriage that had done nothing but drain her of joy.

By the time Olivia finalized the divorce terms with her lawyer, the sun was already setting. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, a sharp, familiar pain she was used to ignoring. Hoping to settle her nerves, she wandered into a newly opened dessert café, absently running her fingers over the stack of legal documents in her lap. That’s when she saw him. Adam. He was walking in with Hannah, her hand playfully tugging on his arm. Though Adam’s expression carried a hint of impatience, his eyes betrayed a warmth and tenderness Olivia hadn’t seen in years. Adam Grant—who couldn’t stand overly sweet foods, who used to wrinkle his nose at the sight of her carefully chosen birthday cakes—was now willingly stepping into a dessert shop, all for Hannah. The sight of them together hit Olivia like a knife to the chest. A sharp, searing pain she couldn’t ignore. She drew in a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the documents as she tried to steady herself. The waiter had just placed her order on the table—it was a chestnut cake, her favorite—but before she could lift her fork, she heard a sharp voice echo through the café. “What do you mean there’s no more chestnut cake?” It was Hannah. Her tone was loud, entitled, full of irritation. “I came here specifically for that cake!” she snapped, glaring at the waiter with barely concealed contempt. “How can you not have it? Don’t you know who I am?” The waiter tried to remain polite, though his face showed clear discomfort. “I’m very sorry, ma’am,” he explained. “We only use imported ingredients, and we have a limited supply each day. I’m afraid we’ve already sold out.” Hannah scoffed, crossing her arms. “Then make more! I’ll pay ten times the price if I have to. I’m not leaving without it.” The waiter hesitated, looking helpless. Olivia, meanwhile, had quietly picked up her fork and was about to take a bite of her cake when a familiar voice interrupted her. “Excuse me, miss,” Adam said from across the room. Olivia froze, her hand hovering mid-air. “My friend just got back to the U.S.,” Adam continued smoothly, his voice polite but firm. “And it’s her birthday today. She’s been looking forward to that chestnut cake for weeks. Would you mind letting us have it? I’ll pay twenty times the price if necessary.” Olivia’s chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat. Five years of marriage. Five years of sitting across from him at the same table, sharing the same life. And now, here he was, standing just a few feet away, unable to recognize even the back of her head. It was both absurd and heartbreaking. Adam’s request hung in the air, and Olivia slowly looked up. When their eyes met, Adam froze. For a moment, guilt flickered across his face, but he quickly masked it. Olivia, pale and visibly thinner than before, offered him a small, understanding smile. She carefully pushed the plate of chestnut cake toward him, her voice calm and composed. “I understand,” she said softly. “It’s just a birthday celebration for a friend. I get it.” Adam opened his mouth, as though to say something, but before he could speak, Hannah’s voice rang out again, sharp and impatient: “Adam! What are you doing over there?” Olivia ignored Hannah’s interruption, her eyes still on Adam. She reached for the documents in her lap and held them out to him with a steady hand. “By the way,” she said, her tone light, almost casual, “I’ve been looking at this small beach house. I thought it’d be perfect for a little vacation someday.” She smiled faintly. “Consider this cake my thank-you for signing the papers.” Adam frowned slightly, glancing down at the legal documents. Olivia pressed the papers closer. “Oh, and one more thing,” she added with a trace of bitterness. “You still owe me a birthday gift this year.” Adam hesitated, glancing between the cake and the papers. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was Hannah’s impatient glare boring into his back, but after a brief pause, he took the pen Olivia had placed on the table and signed his name on the last page. Without another word, he picked up the plate of cake and returned to Hannah, who was waiting with a triumphant smile. Olivia exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping as the tension left her body. Her fingers trembled as she picked up the signed papers, clutching them tightly. It was done. She had finally taken the first step toward leaving Adam behind. But the adrenaline from the encounter left her feeling lightheaded. Olivia stood on shaky legs, her knees weak as she made her way toward the exit. She barely made it to the door before her vision blurred and her body gave out. She collapsed onto the cold pavement just outside the café. Her ears rang, muffling the concerned murmurs of the people around her. She tried to get up, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. The world around her spun, and then everything went black. In the haze of unconsciousness, Olivia vaguely felt herself being lifted. Strong arms carried her, jostling slightly as they rushed to… somewhere. Her mind, foggy and disoriented, drifted toward a familiar thought. It must be Adam, she thought faintly. How inconvenient… ruining his date with Hannah just before the divorce. And with that, she let herself slip further into the dark.

When Olivia woke up in the hospital, it was already hours later. A young woman sitting nearby noticed she was awake and immediately called for a nurse. Olivia’s head felt foggy, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Instinctively, she asked: “Where’s Adam?” The girl paused, blinking in confusion. “Adam? Who’s Adam?” Only then did Olivia realize—it wasn’t Adam who had brought her here. “You fainted outside the dessert café,” the girl explained with a friendly smile. “I was passing by and figured I’d better get you to the hospital.” Olivia hadn’t expected a complete stranger to help her. Feeling embarrassed and grateful, she quickly thanked the girl and reached for her phone, intending to pay her back for covering the medical expenses. But when she saw her phone, its screen was completely shattered. “Don’t worry about it,” the girl said cheerfully. “I live nearby. I’ll give you my contact info—just pay me back once you’ve had your phone fixed.” She scribbled her number on a piece of paper and handed it to Olivia before glancing at her own phone with a start. “Oh no, I’ve gotta go! My mom’s been texting me nonstop to come home!” Before Olivia could say much else, the girl rushed out, leaving behind the scrap of paper with her name: Luna Young. It was such a soft, pretty name. Olivia repeated it quietly to herself with a faint smile. But her fleeting moment of calm disappeared when her eyes caught the time on the bedside clock. It was already 11 p.m. She suddenly remembered something Adam had said years ago, before they got married: “I don’t like women who stay out late.” Those words had stayed with her, shaping her habits for the past five years. Unless she was at an event with Adam, she had made sure to never return home after 8 p.m. But now… now things were different. She lowered her gaze, letting the memory fade. Even so, Olivia got dressed and prepared to leave. Divorce or not, she didn’t want Adam to suspect anything unusual. By the time she got home, the house was dark and quiet, except for one person waiting for her in the living room. Adam. He was sitting there, his expression sharp and disapproving. “Where were you?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you answer my texts?” There was a note of concern in his voice, but it was buried under layers of irritation. “You’re my wife, Olivia. Wandering around in the middle of the night—what were you thinking?” He waited, fully expecting her to apologize as she usually would. But Olivia simply blinked at him, her voice calm as she replied: “You texted me?” “What did you send? My phone’s screen is broken—I couldn’t see anything.” Adam frowned and pulled out his own phone, scrolling to show her the message he had sent when she fainted: “Was it low blood sugar? Go home and rest.” So, he had noticed something was wrong. He had sent her a message. But instead of helping her, he’d been busy spending his evening with someone else. Olivia’s chest tightened, a cold, sinking feeling spreading through her. She forced a smile, but her eyes drifted to his phone screen, where new messages were popping up one after another. They were from Hannah. “Adam, my friends threw me a welcome-back dinner, but they’re insisting I bring someone with me. Can you come?” Olivia lowered her gaze, pretending not to notice as Adam picked up his phone and typed out a reply. The ache in her heart grew sharper, but she kept her expression steady. “Adam,” she said softly, her voice tinged with quiet hope, “can we visit your grandparents tomorrow? They’ve been asking about us.” Adam hesitated, his jaw tightening. The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to feel. Taking a deep breath, he finally muttered: “I’ll let them know. Work’s been really busy… I can’t make it.” Olivia’s heart sank, but she quickly masked her disappointment with a practiced smile. “That’s okay,” she said gently, always the one to smooth things over. Adam seemed relieved, even grateful for her understanding. He lifted a hand toward her, as if to brush aside a stray strand of her hair, but Olivia instinctively stepped back, avoiding his touch. His hand froze in mid-air before he awkwardly pulled it back. Clearing his throat, he said quietly: “I’ll have the housekeeper handle your phone tomorrow. Next time… next time, I’ll go with you to visit them.” Next time? No, Adam. There won’t be a next time. But Olivia just nodded, silently reaching to loosen his tie as she had done so many times before. Her hands trembled slightly, but she kept her movements steady. “You know,” Adam said suddenly, his voice low, “that house contract you signed today—bring it here. Let me double-check it. You’re inexperienced with this stuff. I don’t want you getting scammed.” Her hands froze mid-motion, her heart pounding hard in her chest. She could feel her pulse in her fingertips, the nervous tremor betraying her calm exterior. Adam noticed her hesitation and opened his mouth to ask something, but before he could, his phone buzzed loudly. The screen lit up with Hannah’s name. “Adam, I think I caught a cold. Can you come help me figure out this hospital stuff? I don’t remember how any of it works here.” Her playful, whiny tone carried through the speaker as Adam read the message. His brow furrowed, but he quickly stood, glancing at Olivia with an apologetic look. “Hannah’s sick,” he explained. “Her family’s all overseas. I should go help her.” For a moment, he lingered, as though waiting for some kind of reaction. But Olivia simply smiled, her voice warm and even. “Go ahead,” she said. “A girl all alone with no family nearby… it’s only right someone helps her.” Olivia barely slept that night. Her stomach pain had worsened, keeping her awake until dawn. By morning, the housekeeper had already delivered a replacement phone, and Olivia quickly sent Luna the payment for her hospital expenses. After tidying up, she packed a small gift and left the house to visit Adam’s grandparents. They had always been kind to her, urging her and Adam to cherish their marriage. They had even given her the family’s heirloom jade bracelet as a symbol of trust and blessing. This time, Olivia planned to quietly return it. But on the way, her driver accidentally hit someone with the car. To her shock, it was Luna—the same girl who had helped her just the day before.

“…I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect my driver to be so careless…” Luna’s injuries weren’t serious—just a few scrapes and bruises. She had insisted on a quick bandage and nothing more, but Olivia wouldn’t hear of it. She firmly pressed for a full medical examination. “Seriously, I told you I’m fine,” Luna protested, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing—” Her words faltered when she turned to look at Olivia, whose face had gone ghostly pale. Luna’s expression tightened with alarm. “Olivia… is it your stomach again?!” Olivia’s condition had worsened. Her chronic stomach issues had reached a critical point, and the doctor was stern as he delivered his instructions. “You need to be admitted immediately,” he said. “We’ll monitor your condition and decide whether surgery is necessary.” Under normal circumstances, this was something you’d call family about. But Olivia’s family lived hundreds of miles away, and her marriage to Adam had left her isolated. His social circle, his status—it had all created invisible walls that kept her from forming close friendships in the city. Left with no choice, she called Adam. Ten times. Not a single call went through. Of course, she thought bitterly. He’s with Hannah. Probably too busy to even glance at his phone. She lowered the phone, her fingers tightening around it. I shouldn’t have called so many times. I should’ve known better. “Your husband’s not coming, is he?” Luna, who had been sitting nearby, furrowed her brows, her frustration evident on her face. She hesitated, as though holding back harsher words, but the look in her eyes made it clear she was angrier than Olivia herself. Olivia, on the other hand, seemed calm. She set the phone down and, with a faint smile, slipped the wedding ring off her finger. “We’re almost divorced,” she said softly. “Not being able to reach him… well, that’s to be expected.” Luna fell silent, though her frown deepened. It was the doctor who spoke next, his tone blunt but not unkind. “You’re still wearing the ring, so I assume you’re in the waiting period before the divorce is finalized? Once you get in touch with him, make sure he comes to sign the paperwork.” Olivia forced a small, polite smile, but her mind was elsewhere. Five years of marriage. Five years of sacrifices. And for what? She thought about all the ways she had tried to take care of Adam. How she had learned to cook his favorite meals, only to ruin her own health by skipping meals herself. How she’d studied tirelessly to fit into his world, mingling with the wives of CEOs and senators, only for Adam to take his secretary—or worse, Hannah—to every gala. She thought about the time she had spent hours baking him a birthday cake, only for Adam to wrinkle his nose and throw it in the trash. “I hate cake,” he’d said coldly. Her stomach issues had been plaguing her for four years now. Adam hadn’t even noticed. And now, sitting in this sterile hospital room, Olivia couldn’t think of a single moment where Adam had made her feel cared for. Not one. Adam wasn’t coming. After a long silence, Luna spoke up, her voice cutting through Olivia’s thoughts. “I’ll sign for her,” she said to the doctor. The doctor raised an eyebrow. “You’re her friend?” “Yes,” Luna said firmly. The doctor nodded, his expression softening with quiet sympathy. “Honestly, that’s probably for the best. If her husband can’t even be reached when she’s this sick, he’s not much use anyway. Having a friend by her side is worth more than a husband like that.” Luna smiled at Olivia, her confidence unwavering. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay with you.” Luna worked remotely as a freelance writer, so she had the flexibility to balance work while keeping an eye on Olivia. Between her cheerful presence and easygoing nature, she was a comforting distraction from the ache in Olivia’s chest. It wasn’t until three days later that Adam finally realized Olivia was in the hospital. He arrived in a hurry, his face a mix of worry and irritation. But the first words out of his mouth were sharp, cutting straight to the point: “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” The accusatory tone hung in the air, and Adam seemed to realize his mistake. He cleared his throat and softened his voice, adding, “You should’ve called me. I could’ve arranged for a private doctor. There’s no reason for you to be in a public hospital. What if the press finds out? It could damage the company’s image.” Olivia stared at him, stunned by the sheer absurdity of his words. For a moment, she thought about explaining. About telling him how many times she had called, how she had waited and waited, only to be met with silence. But instead, she let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Weren’t you busy taking care of Hannah?” she said, her voice calm but laced with bitterness. “And the company’s been keeping you so busy lately. I didn’t want to add to your stress.” Adam’s expression shifted. A flicker of guilt crossed his features as he reached out, his calloused hand covering hers. But as his thumb brushed her skin, he froze. His eyes fell to her left hand. “You took off your ring?” he asked, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

Adam’s expression darkened, his voice carrying a sharp edge that made Olivia’s stomach twist with unease. Perhaps she didn’t even realize it herself, but deep down, she was terrified of her husband. Her lips parted as if to speak, but the excuses she had rehearsed in her mind refused to come out. The tense, suffocating silence was broken by Luna, who walked into the hospital room carrying a bowl of freshly washed fruit. Her cheerful voice shattered the awkward atmosphere like a hammer on glass. “Oh, Mr. Grant!” she said brightly. “Olivia’s been on IV drips for days now, and her hands have been swelling a lot. The doctor made her take off her ring.” She lied so smoothly, not even blinking, as she pulled a small ring box from her bag and waved it in Adam’s direction. “And who’s this?” Adam’s eyes shifted sharply from Luna to Olivia, his tone clipped and demanding. Olivia forced herself to suppress the knot of anxiety in her chest and managed a weak, strained smile. “She’s my friend,” Olivia said softly. “She’s been taking care of me these past few days.” Adam’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of disdain crossing his face. His posture, his expression—it all exuded an air of quiet arrogance. “I thought,” he said slowly, his tone dripping with condescension, “that after all these years, you would’ve learned how to make friends more… appropriate to our circle.” He stopped himself before saying more, his gaze lingering on Olivia’s pale, tired face. For once, he swallowed his words. “Never mind. We’ll talk when you’re feeling better,” he said finally, his tone softening just a fraction. “I’ll pick you up when you’re discharged.” But Olivia knew he wouldn’t come. He had said the same thing so many times before, only to cancel at the last minute, always with some excuse about work or another obligation. It was a lie for fools, an empty promise meant to pacify. And while Olivia was no fool, she had long since grown used to his indifference. As Adam walked out the door, his tall figure disappearing down the hallway, Olivia and Luna both exhaled deeply, as if they had been holding their breaths the entire time. But they didn’t get a moment to recover before a voice—sharp, mocking, and unmistakably hostile—echoed through the room. “So, you’re the little country girl everyone’s been talking about. Olivia, isn’t it?” Hannah strutted into the hospital room, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor with every step. She pulled off her oversized designer sunglasses, her cat-like eyes scanning Olivia from head to toe with an expression of thinly veiled contempt. “Hmm,” she scoffed, tilting her head. “Not much to look at, are you? I don’t see what the fuss is about.” “If I were you,” Hannah continued with a smirk, “I’d hurry up and divorce Adam. Who knows—you might get lucky and walk away with a decent settlement while he’s still feeling generous.” She let out a mocking laugh, her voice dripping with cruelty. “Oh, but then again, women like you probably know all the tricks, don’t you? I heard Adam bought you a house recently. Impressive, really. You’ve got quite the strategy, don’t you, sweetheart?” Luna’s face turned bright red with anger. She opened her mouth to fire back, but Olivia stopped her with a single glance—calm, composed, but with a storm brewing beneath the surface. “What’s your relationship with Adam?” Olivia asked quietly. The question was simple, but it cut through the air like a blade. Olivia knew how foolish it sounded—she already knew the answer. The looks, the whispers, the way Hannah paraded herself around—it was all painfully obvious. But she needed to hear it. She needed the confirmation, the final push to let go of this five-year marriage that had been built on nothing but her own one-sided devotion. Hannah’s laugh was sharp, biting. She tilted her head, her expression equal parts amused and patronizing. “Are you serious?” It was Luna who spoke next, her voice laced with sarcasm and venom. “Come on, Hannah. Don’t play dumb,” she said, her smile bright and biting. She reached up to touch the necklace around her neck—a necklace Olivia instantly recognized. It had been her birthday gift from Adam, something he had personally chosen for her. “See this?” Luna said, her voice dripping with mockery. “It used to belong to Olivia. Adam gave it to her for her birthday. But the moment I said I liked it, he gave it to me instead. Said it was a ‘fair trade’ for that jade bracelet you’re wearing—you know, the one from the Grant family heirloom collection?” She leaned forward slightly, her smile widening, her eyes alight with cruel humor. “So, what do you think? What’s my relationship with Adam?” The room went silent. After a long pause, Olivia let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Her lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. “It won’t be much longer,” she said quietly. “You’ll get what you want soon enough, Ms. Wright. I’ll be filing the divorce papers shortly. Consider it my parting gift.” Hannah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but after a moment, she shrugged, clearly unimpressed. “You’d better,” she said with a sneer. Then, wrinkling her nose in exaggerated disgust, she turned and strode out of the room, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. Luna watched her go, her fists clenched in anger. The moment the door closed, she let out a string of curses, punching the nearest pillow with frustration. “This is unbelievable!” she fumed. “A mistress barging in here to taunt you?! And Adam—what’s his deal? Talking like you’re some… some embarrassment to him? And that whole ‘appropriate friends’ crap—what the hell does that even mean?” But her outburst faded quickly. As much as she wanted to march after Hannah and give her a piece of her mind, she knew better. The Grant family’s power and influence were nothing to take lightly, and Luna had no intention of making things harder for Olivia. Olivia, for her part, simply smiled faintly, her eyes distant. She didn’t want to cause trouble for Luna—or anyone else. She had endured enough.

The day Olivia was discharged from the hospital, the weather was rare for California—gray skies and steady rain. Even more surprising, Adam actually kept his word. He was waiting for her at the hospital entrance. Hannah, of course, was already in the passenger seat, casually touching up her lipstick in the mirror. Luna, unable to hold back her sarcasm, crossed her arms and said in a sweetly biting tone: “Olivia, you get carsick, right? Why don’t you sit up front where it’s more comfortable? Ms. Wright, maybe you could join me in the backseat instead?” Hannah’s laugh was soft and syrupy, her red-painted lips curving into a coquettish pout. She made a half-hearted motion to shift, but Adam quickly stepped in, his voice firm and protective: “Hannah gets carsick too. Plus, she’s used to sitting in the front. It’s raining, and shuffling around would just make things more complicated. Olivia, you don’t mind sitting in the back, do you?” Adam’s favoritism was as blatant as ever. When it came to Hannah, he didn’t even bother to hide it. Before Luna could escalate things, Olivia gently placed a hand on her arm, stopping her. Without a word, she climbed into the backseat. The ride was quiet. Luna, furiously typing on her phone, sent Olivia a string of angry texts about Adam and Hannah. Olivia, however, was lost in her own thoughts, silently counting down the days. Seven more days of the divorce waiting period. Just seven more days. I can get through this. But Hannah seemed determined to make even that short ride unbearable. She answered a call halfway through, and her voice instantly turned trembling and tearful: “Adam! It’s my brother… My brother just got back to the States, and now his heart condition’s acting up again!” Her voice cracked, and she sniffled dramatically. “His girlfriend just called me—she said his face turned blue! Adam, can you take me to the hospital? Please?” In the rearview mirror, Olivia could see Adam hesitate, his expression conflicted. Still, she already knew what he was going to say. Sure enough, he cleared his throat, his voice awkward as he spoke: “…Olivia, you and your friend should get out here.” “Life and death situations can’t wait. I need to take Hannah to the hospital.” Hannah. Always Hannah. The moment her name came up, Adam lost all sense of reason, turning into a man who would blindly drop everything for her. Olivia forced a small, fragile smile. The lump in her throat made it hard to speak, so she simply nodded. She took the umbrella Adam handed her, grabbed Luna’s arm, and stepped out of the car. The tires splashed muddy rainwater onto their legs as the car sped off, leaving them standing on the sidewalk, shivering in the cold drizzle. “…I’m sorry, Luna,” Olivia said, her voice laced with a bitter laugh. “I didn’t think it’d turn out like this.” She called the Grant family’s driver to come pick them up, but with the rain and traffic, it would take at least thirty minutes for him to arrive. “Guess you’re stuck getting drenched with me for a while.” As luck would have it, while the two of them huddled under the umbrella, a sleek black car pulled up beside them. The window rolled down, revealing Aria, one of Olivia’s acquaintances from a wealthy family. Aria blinked, clearly surprised to see them standing miserably in the rain. “Olivia? What on earth happened to you two?” After hearing the story of how Adam had ditched them to take Hannah’s brother to the hospital, Aria let out a scoff, her lips curling in disdain. “Hannah’s brother? Please. That idiot doesn’t have a heart condition—he’s as healthy as a horse.” Aria smirked, her tone dripping with mockery. “Besides, even if he did, wouldn’t calling an ambulance be faster than relying on Adam’s terrible driving?” She went on to explain that Hannah’s brother had pulled the “heart condition” stunt countless times as a kid, using it to prank their circle of friends. After one too many tricks, the group had retaliated by beating him up. Only then did he tearfully confess that he’d been faking it all along. “We’ve all known each other since we were kids,” Aria said with a knowing smirk. “Adam knows the truth perfectly well. He’s just an idiot when it comes to Hannah.” Her gaze softened as she looked at Olivia, sympathy flickering in her eyes. When they arrived at the Grant family’s estate, Aria gave Olivia a sly smile and added: “Let me know when the divorce goes through—I’ll take you out for champagne to celebrate.” She waved as Olivia stepped out of the car, then called out one last remark with a teasing grin: “And next time, pick a better guy, will you? Honestly, I remember Adam as a snot-nosed kid with his pants falling down. If you stay single, hit me up—I’ve got some cute friends I can introduce you to.” When Adam returned home that evening, he was greeted by the sight of suitcases neatly packed and stacked by the door. His brows furrowed as he stepped inside. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. Olivia was busy overseeing the movers as they carried out the last of her belongings. She didn’t even look up when Adam entered, her focus entirely on her tasks. Calmly, she replied with the excuse she’d prepared in advance: “The house you ‘bought’ for me is ready. I’m sending my things there early, and I thought I’d take the chance to go on a little vacation.” Then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “By the way… how’s Ms. Wright’s brother? Shouldn’t you still be at the hospital?” Adam cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. He muttered something about work and quickly retreated to his study. Olivia watched him go, her gaze cool and detached. The faintest flicker of amusement crossed her face as she turned back to her phone. A new message notification popped up—a photo, sent anonymously. The image showed Hannah clinging to Adam’s arm, her head tilted back in laughter. Adam was smiling too, his lips curved with warmth. A smear of chestnut-colored frosting lingered at the corner of his mouth, evidence of the cake they had clearly shared. Olivia stared at the photo for a long moment. She had seen this scene countless times before—Hannah’s possessive grip, Adam’s indulgent smile. No matter how many times she saw it, it never hurt any less.

In the end, Olivia returned to the old Grant family estate by herself. When Jacob and Grace saw her, thinner than ever, they immediately fussed over her with endless questions and heartfelt concern. Grace, Adam’s grandmother, was so angry that she pounded the armrest of the sofa, her voice trembling with frustration. “That ungrateful grandson of mine! Olivia, don’t you worry—his grandpa will make sure he pays for this. I’ll have him kneel on a washboard if I have to!” Though both of them were older now and far less robust than they had been in their younger years, their care for Olivia had not wavered in the slightest. Olivia felt a lump rise in her throat, her nose stinging with the urge to cry. But she held back the tears, forcing a warm, obedient smile onto her face. If there was anything left in this marriage that Olivia still cherished, it was these two people. She had come to Sea City nearly a decade ago, and ever since college, the elderly couple had treated her like family, supporting her as if she were their own granddaughter. But now, their health was failing, and with the younger generation busy running the family’s business empire, Olivia was the only one who visited them regularly. While they napped that afternoon, Olivia found an excuse to quietly return the jade bracelet Grace had gifted her back to its rightful place. She also went into the kitchen herself, handing over her carefully written notes on health supplements and recipes to the housekeeper. This was the last thing she could do for them. When she was about to leave, Grace held her hand tightly, her eyes filled with concern. “Take care of yourself, Olivia. Don’t just spend all your energy looking after Adam.” Olivia smiled and nodded, but just as she was about to step out, a familiar voice froze her in place. “Grandpa, Grandma—I’ve brought Hannah to see you.” Adam’s voice cut through the warm atmosphere like a knife. He hadn’t expected to see Olivia standing there, and for a moment, his expression faltered, an awkward look crossing his face. “Oh… you’re here too,” he said, avoiding her gaze. The once harmonious room fell silent, tension thick in the air. Olivia’s heart sank, but she kept the perfect smile on her face. She couldn’t let the elderly couple find out about Adam’s affair—not when the shock might affect their health. She couldn’t even imagine the consequences. So, swallowing her bitterness, Olivia stepped forward, slipping her arm through Adam’s as if nothing were wrong. She smiled warmly, assuming her role as the gracious hostess, welcoming their “guest.” Hannah, of course, toned down her usual arrogance in front of the elders, but she still couldn’t resist rolling her eyes at Olivia when no one was looking. Since Hannah was a guest, Olivia had no choice but to stay for dinner that evening. The grandparents weren’t particularly close to Hannah, who was supposedly the granddaughter of an old family friend, but they were polite enough. Hannah, with her sugary sweet words, managed to earn their mild approval. That was, until she “accidentally” knocked over the bowl of soup Olivia had been holding. The bowl tipped, and the steaming hot soup spilled onto Olivia’s hand and wrist, scalding her pale skin bright red. The pain was so intense that her vision blurred for a moment. Hannah’s hand had been splashed with a few drops of soup as well, and she immediately started whimpering, tears welling up in her eyes as she turned to Adam. “It hurts so much, Adam!” she sniffled, clutching his arm for comfort. Jacob’s face darkened as he watched his favorite grandson, seemingly oblivious, rush to Hannah’s side to help her run her hand under cold water. Meanwhile, Olivia sat quietly, her hand trembling from the pain, trying not to cry. Jacob and Grace had built the Grant family empire from the ground up, enduring countless hardships along the way. They weren’t fools, and Hannah’s obvious stunt didn’t escape their notice. The soup Olivia had been carrying wasn’t just any soup—it was a carefully prepared, nourishing dish meant for Jacob’s health. She had personally overseen its preparation, hoping to encourage him to eat more. She hadn’t expected Hannah to pull something like this. Grace placed a calming hand on Jacob’s arm, silently signaling him to stay composed. She then called for the housekeeper to bring ointment for Olivia’s burn. Her tone, however, was icy as she turned to Hannah. “All right, that’s enough for today.” Grace’s voice carried a quiet authority. “Have the driver take Ms. Wright home. This is a family matter, and it’s not appropriate for outsiders to get involved.” “Kneel!” Jacob’s cane struck the floor with a sharp thud, his voice booming with fury. “Adam, what the hell is wrong with you?” “Is this how we raised you? Is this what the Grant family stands for?” His face red with anger, Jacob glared at Adam, trembling with rage. “I told you to take care of Olivia. And this is how you treat her?” Grace sat beside Olivia, gently blowing on her burned hand, her eyes red with unshed tears. Adam stood there, stiff and silent, as Jacob looked ready to strike him. “Grandpa, please don’t get upset,” Olivia said softly, stepping forward to steady the old man. “Adam’s usually very kind to me. Today… well, he was just worried about being a good host to Ms. Wright.” Her voice was calm, soothing, as she patted Jacob’s back, helping him catch his breath. It took some time, but eventually, his anger subsided, replaced by a heavy sigh. “Olivia, you’re too good for your own good,” Jacob said, his tone laced with regret. “If that boy pulls a stunt like this again, you come straight to me. I’ll make sure he regrets it.” “How’s your hand?” The question came unexpectedly as they sat in the car, the air between them thick with tension. For once, Adam broke the silence. “It’s fine,” Olivia replied curtly, her tone distant. “You shouldn’t take what happened today to heart,” Adam added, his voice hesitant. “Hannah… she didn’t mean it. She was sitting right next to me, and I just—reacted instinctively…” Olivia was too tired to care. The lingering pain from her surgery, her chronic stomach issues, and now the burn on her hand—it was all too much. She was utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally. “Adam,” she interrupted, her voice weary. “I’m really tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

With the company matters finally settled, Adam had more free time on his hands. These days, he stayed at home under the pretense of “taking care of Olivia.” For Olivia, his sudden presence was more awkward than comforting. In their five years of marriage, Adam had never spent so much time with her. The looming thought of the divorce cooling-off period only made her want to avoid him even more. “I felt bad about what happened to your birthday gift last time,” Adam said one afternoon, his tone carrying a hint of apology. “So I had my assistant order a custom set of jewelry for you.” It was obvious that Jacob and Grace’s recent scolding had left Adam feeling guilty, and now he was trying to use jewelry as a way to make amends. But Olivia had never cared about material things. The sapphire necklace sparkled under the chandelier, its deep blue radiance as dazzling as the ocean. Olivia, however, lowered her gaze, hiding the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She didn’t even like blue. Yet over the years, the few gifts Adam had given her were always blue. Because blue was Hannah’s favorite color. In every photo Olivia had seen, Hannah was dressed in blue—blue dresses, blue jewelry, blue accents everywhere. Olivia forced a small smile, glancing at her husband, who now stood in awkward silence. A bitter ache swelled in her chest. Adam was always like this around her—distant, formal, guarded. In the past, Olivia had tried to convince herself that Adam was just naturally reserved, that he treated everyone this way. But after seeing the way he acted around someone he truly cared about, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. “…Tomorrow, wear this jewelry and come to the gala with me,” Adam finally said, the words seemingly dragged out of him. There was a hint of reluctance in his eyes. Of course. If it weren’t for Jacob’s repeated admonishments, Olivia wouldn’t have been invited to this gala at all. To Adam, Olivia was someone who didn’t belong in the spotlight. She stared at him for a long moment before nodding. This will be the last time, she thought to herself. She needed to see if her husband could keep just one promise to her. But in the end, Adam broke his promise again. The phone call came hours before the event. Adam’s voice on the other end sounded frantic. “Hannah fell down the stairs and twisted her ankle,” he said. “I need to take her to the hospital.” There was a pause, then the hurried conclusion: “You go to the gala by yourself.” Before Olivia could respond, the call ended. She stared at the mirror, her reflection flawless, her makeup immaculate. But her heart felt cold and numb. The first time she was to attend a gala as Adam’s wife, and he abandoned her to go to the hospital for Hannah’s sprained ankle. He knew, of course, what people would say. He knew how awkward it would be for her to attend alone, how the whispers about their marriage would spread like wildfire. But none of that mattered—not compared to Hannah’s minor injury. The makeup artists exchanged uncertain glances. One of them finally worked up the courage to ask, “Mrs. Grant… should we stop here?” Even they knew how humiliating it was for her to show up alone to an event like this. Olivia let out a soft, humorless laugh, her lips curving into a faintly mocking smile. But her voice remained calm. “Continue.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to Luna. “Everything going smoothly? Are you settling into the new place?” Luna’s reply came almost instantly. She reassured Olivia that everything was ready and waiting for the divorce cooling-off period to end. At the gala, Olivia was surrounded by a small group of women—socialites and wives who were familiar with her situation. They treated her kindly, offering sympathy rather than judgment. “Forget about Adam for tonight,” one of the women said, giving her a playful wink. “Since you’re here, you might as well enjoy yourself.” She gestured toward the lavish display of desserts. “The pastries are amazing—you’ll love them.” Olivia smiled politely and sipped her grape juice. Across the room, she caught sight of Aria, who raised her glass in a silent toast. Aria sauntered over, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “So,” she said lightly, “have you decided?” Olivia nodded, her expression calm as she clinked her glass against Aria’s. “The rights to Fallen Angel are yours,” Olivia said evenly. “But the price…” “Don’t worry,” Aria interrupted with a radiant grin. “The price is negotiable. Consider it my little gift to celebrate your divorce from that idiot Adam.” Adam didn’t come home for four or five days after the gala. He was still busy “taking care of” Hannah. Olivia didn’t mind. His absence gave her room to breathe. On the day before the divorce cooling-off period ended, Olivia received the agreed-upon $500,000 from the sale of the copyright. She spent the day quietly packing her belongings and leaving the cold, lifeless house behind. She didn’t take anything Adam had given her—not the jewelry, not the clothes, not even the house itself. As her taxi pulled away from the estate, it passed by Adam’s black car. For a brief moment, their vehicles crossed paths. Olivia picked up her phone and sent the text she had written earlier. “Adam, today marks the end of the divorce cooling-off period. I’ve already moved out of the house.” “I originally wanted to tell you this in person, but since you’re busy taking care of Hannah, I figured this method was more convenient.” “The divorce papers are on the coffee table in the living room. Don’t worry—I didn’t take anything from the Grant family. I only packed my clothes and left with nothing else.”

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A video of my boyfriend proposing to his secretary went viral, topping the trending charts. Everyone was calling it the most romantic and touching moment they’d ever seen. The secretary even posted a heartfelt message online: “I’ve waited so long for you, and I’m so glad I never gave up. Mr. Stone, here’s to spending the rest of my life with you.” The comments section exploded with excitement: “I’m obsessed! The boss and the secretary—this is the sweetest couple ever!” I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I simply closed the page, then went to find my boyfriend for an explanation. That’s when I overheard him talking to a friend. “What else could I do? If I don’t marry her, her family will force her to settle for someone she doesn’t love.” “But what about Natalie? She’s your actual girlfriend. Aren’t you afraid she’ll be mad?” “So what if she’s mad? Natalie’s been with me for seven years. She can’t leave me now.” Fast forward to our wedding day. Yes, our wedding day. On that same day, he was tying the knot with his secretary, while I was walking down the aisle with someone else. Our wedding cars passed each other on the street. When we exchanged bouquets with the brides from the other car as part of the tradition, he caught sight of me through the window. The moment he saw me in my wedding dress, his composure completely shattered. 1

“Mom, I’ve decided to go through with the arranged marriage.” In the dimly lit living room, my voice sounded distant and numb, like it didn’t even belong to me. Hearing my sudden change of heart, my mom was stunned. “You weren’t willing before. Why the sudden change? Natalie, marriage isn’t a joke. It doesn’t matter whether it’s arranged or not—what matters is that you’re happy. You need to think this through. Don’t rush into it.” Her words made my chest tighten, and for a moment, my eyes stung with tears. “Mom, I’ve thought it through. You can start planning the wedding.” Mom must’ve sensed how I felt because she paused for a second before softly reassuring me: “You’ve been with Zachary for so long, and he still won’t go public with your relationship. He hasn’t even agreed to meet us. Your dad and I have known for a while that things wouldn’t last between you two.” Her words felt like a knife twisting in my chest. It turns out that everyone on the outside could see the truth so clearly. The only fool here was me. “The Ford boy is someone your dad and I carefully picked for you years ago. We made sure he’s a good match. Not only is he from a solid family, but he’s also a man of great character. Natalie, you deserve the best.” I took a deep breath. “Thanks, Mom. I trust you and Dad’s judgment.” Mom continued, “Do you want us to arrange a meeting with him in the next few days?” “There’s no need. Just go ahead and plan the wedding.” After I hung up the phone, I realized Zachary had appeared behind me at some point, holding a small cake. He looked confused. “A wedding? Who’s getting married?” I am. I’m the one who’s getting married. I answered him silently in my heart, but the words never left my lips. Instead, I kept my expression calm and shook my head. “No one. Just a friend.” As soon as I said that, I noticed the tension in his shoulders ease. His face relaxed noticeably, and it made my heart ache all over again. Was he nervous because he thought I was going to pressure him into marrying me? Or was it because he thought I’d found out about him and Aria, his perfect secretary, and assumed they were the ones getting married? “I brought you your favorite cake from that bakery you love. Want to eat it now?” he asked. There was a time when Zachary would bring me little treats after work—snacks and desserts he thought I’d enjoy. Even if I didn’t always like them, the thoughtfulness of it made me feel like I was floating in a sugary dream. I felt cherished, loved, remembered. But now, as I stared at the cake in his hands, all I felt was bitter irony. Not long ago, I’d stumbled across Aria’s newly public social media posts. I couldn’t bring myself to scroll far because just a few entries in, the truth hit me like a slap in the face. This cake wasn’t for me. It was Aria’s favorite. Not just this cake—those nuts, those snacks, all the little treats he used to bring me? They were all her favorites too. And the worst part? I realized that his habit of bringing me food only started after Aria joined his company. So, Zachary… when you handed me those treats, who were you really thinking of? Was it me, Natalie, or was it Aria? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I said flatly, “I don’t like sweets anymore. They’re too much. Don’t buy them for me again.” Zachary blinked, clearly surprised by my reaction. “What? That’s not true. You’ve never had a problem eating them before.” We’ve been together for years, and yet, if he really cared about me, how could he not know my preferences by now? Sometimes, you repeat yourself so many times that you grow tired. And eventually, you stop correcting them altogether. I didn’t argue. I simply shrugged and said, “My taste has changed recently.” 2

For days, Zachary had been so busy that he didn’t even remember my birthday. Not that it mattered anymore—it wasn’t like I cared. But then, as if the thought suddenly struck him, he tried to make it up to me by buying tickets to my favorite Broadway musical. It was a wildly popular show, nearly impossible to get tickets for. I hadn’t been able to snag one myself, so when Zachary said he had two tickets and invited me, I agreed. On the day of the show, I waited for him. And waited. But instead of Zachary, I saw a post from Aria on Instagram, flaunting two tickets to the very same musical. Her caption read: “Bored, so I decided to catch a show. It’s the best feeling to have someone who’s always there for you, no matter what. 💕” The photo didn’t show their faces, but I recognized the hand in the picture immediately. That scar—it was unmistakable. It was Zachary’s, from the time he got hurt saving me years ago. Suddenly, I felt like a complete fool. While I stood outside in the rain, worried something had happened to him, Zachary was inside, sitting in VIP seats with his secretary. Ice-cold raindrops pelted my face, soaking through my clothes. The chill worked its way into my bones, but my heart felt even colder than my body. My phone buzzed with a message from my mom. She told me the wedding was set for two weeks from now. If I thought it was too rushed, we could push it back. I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me, and replied, “No need. Let’s keep it as planned.” The heavy rain had brought the city to a standstill. Traffic was a mess, and I couldn’t get a cab no matter how long I waited. Finally, Zachary called me. His voice was casual, like nothing was wrong. “Why aren’t you at home?” I kept my tone calm, completely devoid of emotion. “I’m at the Broadway Theater.” There was a pause, as though he’d just remembered something. Then he said, “I’m sorry. Something came up this afternoon, and I couldn’t make it. Stay where you are—I’ll come get you.” I didn’t argue, but I knew he wouldn’t show up. And I was right. A moment later, Aria updated her Instagram again: “He didn’t want me catching a cold in the rain, so he made ginger tea just for me. A man who cooks is the most attractive. 💍 Can’t wait to marry him!” The photo showed Zachary’s back as he stood at the stove, cooking. I stared at the post for a second, then calmly exited the app. The rain left me with a fever and a nasty cold. I used it as an excuse to move out of the master bedroom, claiming I didn’t want to infect Zachary. I moved into the guest room instead. For once, he actually stayed home from work to take care of me. But I couldn’t stand it. “It’s just a cold,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “I’m an adult. I can take care of myself. You should go back to work.” He frowned and looked at me for a long moment. “You used to want me around the most when you were sick. What’s with the sudden change?” I lowered my head, hiding all the emotions in my eyes, and forced a small smile. “I was immature back then. I’m not like that anymore.” Zachary’s brows furrowed with concern. “Natalie, are you okay?” “I’m fine. Go on, really.” He didn’t seem convinced, but after staring at me for a while, he finally sighed. “Alright. Call me if you need anything.” As soon as he left, I let out a long breath and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, I found another message from my mom. This time, it was the finalized wedding plans. She’d also sent me photos of over a dozen wedding dresses, asking me to pick one. I scrolled through the pictures absentmindedly, enlarging them to get a better look. I was so absorbed in the task that I didn’t even notice Zachary walk in until he snatched my phone out of my hand and tossed it aside. “What are you doing looking at wedding dresses?” he demanded, his face dark with irritation. For a moment, I thought he’d figured it out—that I was planning my own wedding. I was just about to come clean when his next words stopped me cold. “Natalie, is this your way of pressuring me to marry you? I told you I’d marry you eventually. You don’t have to resort to tricks like this—it’s pathetic.” 3

“You’ve got it all wrong, I’m not—” Before I could finish, Zachary waved me off, cutting me short. “I’m busy. I’ll be going now. A word of advice—stop pulling these stunts to wear down what’s left of my feelings for you.” The door slammed shut behind him, leaving the house in complete silence. For a long time, I stood there, unmoving, and then let out a bitter laugh. Zachary, how much of your so-called feelings for me are even left? What’s there to wear down anymore? In the past, a misunderstanding like this would have left me devastated, unable to eat or sleep. But now, I quickly pulled myself together. I went back to reviewing the wedding details my mom had sent over. Before closing my messages, I instinctively clicked on the notification dot in my social media app. That’s when I saw it—a rare update from Zachary. “When someone this amazing comes into your life, you marry them and keep them close.” The photo was a solo shot of Aria, along with an image of their wedding invitation. Within minutes, one of our mutual friends commented: “Bro, so you’ve already swapped out the bride? That was fast.” Not long after, Zachary’s post disappeared. But it reappeared almost immediately on Aria’s Instagram feed instead. Then my phone rang. If this had been the past, I would’ve immediately screenshot the post, called him up, and demanded answers. No argument would have ended without a screaming match. But this time, I let the call ring out. And then ring again. I didn’t answer, not even once. What surprised me the most was that I didn’t feel particularly upset by what I’d just seen. Maybe I’d grown numb. My first thought wasn’t anger or heartbreak—it was mild amusement at the coincidence. Their wedding was scheduled for the same day as mine. When Zachary finally came home that night, I was already in bed, pretending to sleep. He tiptoed into the room and stopped by my bedside. “Natalie? Are you awake? I tried calling you—why didn’t you answer?” I kept my back to him, my voice muffled and indifferent. “I must’ve fallen asleep. Didn’t hear it.” He sighed in relief and leaned down, reaching out to feel my forehead. “Is your fever gone?” But as he got closer, the cloying scent of women’s perfume—sweet and heavy—hit me like a punch. My stomach churned, and I had to fight the urge to gag. Without thinking, I shifted away from him, dodging his hand. He froze, his hand suspended awkwardly in mid-air. “Natalie,” he asked cautiously, “Did you see something?” I buried myself deeper into the blankets, muffling my voice. “No. I’m just not feeling well. I want to sleep.” I slept through the night and woke up feeling lighter, like a weight had been lifted. With a clear head, I started packing up my things, systematically erasing every trace of myself from this house. That’s when I realized how many little “couple’s” items I’d bought over the years. At first, Zachary would use them with me. But at some point, without me noticing, he’d stopped. Most of those things had been shoved into some corner, collecting dust. I packed them all into a box and dumped it in the trash. Then I found something else—an old scrapbook. It was filled with photos of our trips together, postcards we’d collected, train tickets from when we were long-distance, and letters he’d written to me. The entire scrapbook was a record of our years together. But after Aria came into the picture, the pages had stopped being filled. There were no more photos, no new memories to add. By the time Zachary came home, I was tossing the scrapbook into the fireplace. He rushed in like a madman, pulling the burning book out of the flames with his bare hands. Ignoring the burns on his fingers, he turned to me, furious. “Are you insane? Do you have any idea how important this scrapbook is to us? Why would you burn it!?” Zachary rarely ever raised his voice at me. This was the first time he’d spoken to me like this. His anger looked genuine, but so was the fact that he was planning to marry someone else behind my back. I didn’t want to argue with him, so I casually replied, “The scrapbook had gotten moldy and infested with bugs. Don’t worry—I’ve backed up all the photos and mementos. I’ll make a new one eventually.” Hearing this, his anger finally subsided. Later, as I applied ointment to his burn, Zachary stared at me with an intensity I couldn’t quite place. “Natalie,” he said suddenly, “You’ve seemed off lately. Is work stressing you out? I’ve booked you a personalized vacation package. Take some time off to relax.” 4

I paused mid-motion, the ointment still in my hand, and looked up at him. “Just me? You’re not coming?” Zachary sighed, his tone laced with regret. “I’m swamped with work. I really can’t get away this time. Next time, I promise, okay?” But Zachary, there won’t be a next time. I lowered my head and resumed applying the ointment. “It might be hard for me to get time off from work.” “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it for you.” I shook my head, trying to push back, but he wouldn’t let up. “I don’t want to go,” I said firmly. His tone turned commanding, leaving no room for argument. “Be good. The tickets are already booked, and they’re non-refundable.” I didn’t respond, but a chill crept through my heart. I thought back to the night before, when, half-asleep, I overheard him on the phone: “I don’t plan on telling her. As long as I can keep it hidden, I will.” There was a pause, then the voice on the other end sighed. “And when the wedding’s over? What then? You’re just going to make her the other woman?” For a long moment, Zachary didn’t say a word. I could almost hear him exhaling smoke, slow and heavy. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” The pain in my chest was suffocating. I lay there silently, tears streaming down my face, feeling like the past seven years had been nothing but a cruel joke. Zachary, have I ever truly known you? If you didn’t love me anymore, why couldn’t you just tell me? Why resort to lies and deception? Were you so afraid I’d cling to you that you had to come up with this elaborate plan to send me away during your wedding? You didn’t need to go to such lengths. Don’t worry, Zachary. I’ll disappear from your life, just like you want. “When’s the flight?” I asked him. “Two days from now,” he replied. I smiled faintly. “Alright, I’ll go.” Relief washed over his face, and he instinctively reached out to ruffle my hair. I leaned back ever so slightly, dodging his hand without making a scene. He froze for a moment, then laughed as if nothing had happened. “Let’s have dinner together before you go, okay?” I hesitated, then nodded. Tomorrow would mark seven years since we first got together. It seemed poetic, in a way, to end it on the same date it began—to say goodbye properly and close this chapter once and for all. The next evening, I arrived early at the restaurant we’d agreed on. Zachary showed up on time—but not alone. Aria was with him. “Natalie,” she chirped, her voice sweet and artificial. “Mr. Stone and I were running errands nearby and thought we’d tag along. Hope you don’t mind!” I shook my head, but inside, I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. So much for a proper goodbye. Zachary ordered a table full of plain, mild dishes. Aria giggled as she glanced at the food. “Mr. Stone, these dishes are way too bland. They’re probably not to Natalie’s taste, are they?” Zachary didn’t even look up. “You’re on your period. You shouldn’t eat anything too spicy.” Then, as if to prove his point, he called over the waiter and had Aria’s iced drink replaced with a cup of warm ginger tea. Aria pouted, playfully complaining that he was being too controlling. Zachary reached out and knocked her lightly on the forehead, a teasing smile on his lips. “If I don’t watch out for you, you’ll end up crying about stomach cramps later.” Aria stuck out her tongue. “You’re overreacting. You just care too much about me.” The two of them flirted shamelessly, as if I wasn’t even there. I watched them with detached indifference, feeling nothing but a calm, hollow emptiness. Halfway through the meal, someone suddenly shouted, “Fire!” The restaurant erupted into chaos. People scrambled to their feet, rushing toward the exits. I stood up, but before I could react, Zachary darted past me. I turned just in time to see him grabbing Aria, shielding her with his body as he hurriedly led her toward the door. For a brief moment, time seemed to fold in on itself. The scene in front of me blurred, replaced by a memory from years ago—an 18-year-old Zachary, throwing himself in harm’s way to protect me in a similar moment of panic. But that Zachary no longer existed. By the time we reached safety, Zachary finally turned and noticed me standing a few steps away. His face was filled with guilt and disbelief. “Natalie, I—I didn’t mean to leave you. I was just—” I cut him off with a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.” Two days later, I packed my bags. I made sure there wasn’t a single trace of myself left in that house. Then, without looking back, I walked out the door. Of course, I didn’t actually board the flight Zachary had arranged. Instead, I went back to my parents’ house to prepare for my wedding. After all, my big day was just around the corner. Zachary, meanwhile, was too busy trying on tuxedos and picking out floral arrangements with Aria to notice my absence. On my wedding day, I met my fiancé, Austin, for the first time. My parents had done an excellent job—he was even more attractive in person than in the photos. Tall, fit, and classically handsome, he was every bit the perfect gentleman. The wedding procession was grand, with an impressive convoy of cars. As we made our way through the streets, our car passed another wedding convoy heading in the opposite direction. Both sides stopped briefly, as was the custom, to exchange bouquets between the brides. The car windows rolled down. And that’s when I saw him. Zachary. OuOur eyes met, and in that instant, shock and disbelief flooded his face. His voice trembled as he choked out, “Natalie… how—how is it you?”

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My stepmother was infamous for being a venomous woman. They said she drove two former husbands and my dad to their deaths. When my dad died, she wasted no time cremating him. When my dad’s mistress brought her son over to fight for the inheritance, they were all dumbfounded. My stepmother sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, counting stacks of cash with a bright smile on her face. “I’m rich! There’s no way I’ll finish spending all this money in my lifetime.” I hid behind the dining table, too scared to make a sound. When my relatives came over, offering to adopt me, I hesitated. And then, suddenly, a row of subtitles appeared before my eyes. [The plot’s kicking off already? The heroine’s about to be taken by her relatives and tormented. Can’t wait!] [These relatives are ruthless. Once they get the money, they’ll sell the heroine off to some remote mountain village.] [No big deal. All the suffering she faces now will be compensated for with the male lead’s love later. The delicate little flower thrives in hardship and eventually finds salvation! I’m obsessed!] Hold on. Who was this heroine everyone was talking about? Was it too late for me to cling to my stepmother?

Not long ago, my dad married a new wife. From the shadows, I watched my brand-new stepmother, whose smile was radiant and enchanting, her beauty like a burst of sunlight. I finally understood why my dad married her. Even knowing she had allegedly sent two former husbands to their graves, he still couldn’t resist. Just for that face alone, it was worth it. Men like my dad thought they were victorious, having won over such a stunning woman. Unfortunately, they all ended up dead. My dad didn’t even last two months after the wedding. Some speculated it was my stepmother’s doing, but there wasn’t a shred of evidence. With no proof, people turned to superstition instead. They claimed my stepmother was cursed, a walking death sentence for any man who touched her. On the day my dad died, a group of women came knocking at the door, children in tow, demanding a piece of the inheritance. But my stepmother, being the undisputed queen of household battles, unleashed her full firepower. “Lucas, get these filthy pests out of my house!” Robbing people of their money was like killing their parents; of course, they didn’t take it lying down. My stepmother looked delicate, but her words were anything but. She pulled out my dad’s urn. “Oh dear, he’s nothing but ashes now. Can’t do a paternity test anymore, can you? But hey, you’re welcome to reunite with him.” The women wept and wailed. “How could you be so ruthless? His body wasn’t even cold before you burned him!” Smiling sweetly, my stepmother replied, “I checked. He was cold. Ice cold.” That smile sent chills down my spine. I quietly moved further away. In the end, the sobbing women and their children were dragged out by the bodyguards. My stepmother reclined comfortably on the couch, pouring herself a glass of red wine, clearly pleased with herself. “I’m rich. There’s no way I’ll finish spending all this money in my lifetime. “Too bad there’s an extra baggage to deal with.” She smiled and sighed as if I were some pesky burden. I didn’t dare make a sound. It felt like she wanted nothing to do with me. Would I even have a home anymore? Thankfully, since my mom passed, I still had my uncle, who doted on me. Just yesterday, he told me he wanted to take me away. Sure enough, my uncle and aunt soon arrived. My aunt came in sobbing, her eyes red and swollen. “Oh, Erika, how could your parents leave so soon? “Poor girl, left all alone with no one to rely on. What’s going to happen to you now?” My uncle patted my head, his voice soft with pity. “Don’t worry, kiddo. From now on, you’ll live with your aunt and me.” They looked at me with such sincerity, like they truly cared. I sneaked a glance at my stepmother. She didn’t seem particularly interested in keeping me. Everyone said she was a terrible person, but I didn’t feel that way. To her, I was just a stranger. No different from how my dad treated me. The scales in my heart started tipping toward my uncle. Just as I was ready to agree… A row of subtitles appeared before my eyes. [The plot’s kicking off already? The heroine’s about to be taken by her relatives and tormented. Can’t wait!] [These relatives are ruthless. Once they get the money, they’ll sell the heroine off to some remote mountain village.] [No big deal. All the suffering she faces now will be compensated for with the male lead’s love later. The delicate little flower thrives in hardship and eventually finds salvation! I’m obsessed!] [That vicious stepmother doesn’t seem like much better. She probably can’t wait to get rid of the heroine.]

I couldn’t make sense of the floating words. What male lead? What tragic heroine? Seeing I wasn’t budging, my uncle and aunt’s patience started to wear thin. “Erika! I’m talking to you!” she snapped. Were the relatives mentioned in the subtitles referring to my uncle and aunt? Would they really sell me off one day? My hesitation grew, and I couldn’t make up my mind. Before I could decide, my uncle clapped his hands, as if settling the matter for me. “Just take Erika away. I’ll talk to Leah about this.” Ignoring my protests, my aunt grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door. Feeling helpless, I burst into tears. My stepmother, clearly irritated, got to her feet. “What’s this? Trying to snatch a child from my house?” Desperate, I broke free from my aunt’s grip and ran toward my stepmother like she was a lifeline. Before I could touch her sleeve, she recoiled in disgust. Fidgeting with my fingers, I finally stammered, “Mom… I don’t want to go with them.” It was the first time I had called her “Mom.” A flash of surprise crossed her face, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. “You…” My uncle yanked my arm and turned to my stepmother. “She’s just being difficult. Once she’s with us, she’ll be fine.” He glared at me, his voice turning harsh. “Your parents are gone. I’m the only family you have now. Who else are you going to rely on? “Stop causing trouble and come with us.” At that moment, I started to believe the strange subtitles. Maybe they were telling the truth. Maybe they really would take me away and sell me. I looked up at my stepmother, pleading silently. She was my last hope. Ignoring my uncle’s words, she gazed down at me with an air of authority. “Think carefully. If you stay, you’ll be my daughter from now on. “And that means you’ll take care of me when I’m old.” I hesitated, then nodded slowly. My stepmother cast a cold glance at my uncle. “See that? She doesn’t want to go with you.” Forcing a dry laugh, my uncle tried to reason with her. “You’re still young. You can have your own children in the future. “This kid’s skinny and not too bright. Keeping her will only cause you trouble.” My stepmother let out a disdainful chuckle. “I know what you’re really after. I’m her legal guardian now, and without my permission, none of you can take her.” Seeing her firm stance and the bodyguards stationed by the door, my uncle knew better than to try anything forceful. He shifted tactics and asked tentatively, “Well, her father left a considerable inheritance, didn’t he? We could help manage it and make sure she doesn’t waste it.” My stepmother nodded exaggeratedly. “Oh, yes, so much money.” When she saw their eyes light up with greed, she added, “But it’s none of your business.” That remark finally broke their patience. Just as my uncle started to lunge forward, the bodyguards stepped in and carried them out. As they were dragged away, another wave of subtitles appeared. [Wait, what’s going on? Is the wicked stepmother actually planning to raise the heroine?] [But what about the male lead? The heroine was supposed to meet him after being sold off to a remote village!] [Maybe the stepmother is plotting to sell her later. Let’s wait and see.]

After that uproar with my uncle and aunt, I came to a realization. Even as a child, I could tell they weren’t good people. If they couldn’t be trusted, who could I rely on? My stepmother? Would she really sell me off, just like the subtitles hinted? After they left, I kept my presence in the house as small as possible, afraid of catching my stepmother’s attention. What if one day she decided I was too much trouble and sent me off to some remote mountain? Luckily, she seemed very busy and was out of the house for several days. I finally breathed a sigh of relief. One day, as I rummaged through the kitchen for food, her voice suddenly rang out. “What are you looking for? Have you eaten?” Clutching the hem of my shirt, I stammered, “Yes, I have, Ms. Barry.” She let out a cold snort, clearly displeased. “You little brat. You only call me mom when you need something from me, don’t you?” Her tone was sharp, and she didn’t look happy. “I’ve been busy these past few days. How have you been eating?” How had I been eating? Just the same as usual: whatever leftovers the maids didn’t finish. I told her the truth. Opening the fridge, she stared at the leftover chicken bones inside, her brows knitting together. “So, this is what you usually eat?” I nodded. What else could I eat? I was just one of the many children my father had fathered outside, lucky enough to have been brought home. Only because my mother had passed away and there was no one else to take care of me. After he brought me here, my father had practically forgotten my existence. He rarely came home, leaving me to be completely neglected. The maids, sharp as they were, followed his lead. Seeing how indifferent he was, they treated me the same. If I was lucky, there’d be leftovers. More often than not, I’d go hungry for an entire day. After a long silence, my stepmother cursed under her breath, using words I didn’t understand. Then, she called for all the staff in the villa. Standing before them, she said loudly, “Do you know who she is? And who you are? “She’s my daughter, and you’re feeding her leftovers? Just thinking about it is enough to make me a laughingstock. “Erika, look at these maids. Point out anyone who’s been mistreating you.”

The next day, all the maids I had pointed out were gone, replaced by a group of young college students. My stepmother said college students were cheap, hardworking, and very competitive. Apparently, the government even encouraged it. I didn’t quite understand what she meant until I saw the floors being mopped three times a day and the dining table filled with a variety of delicious meals. Then, things started to click. Cautiously, I sat at the dining table, inhaling the fragrant aroma of freshly cooked food but too afraid to pick up my cutlery. My stepmother propped her head up with one hand, sliding the plate of food closer to me. “Finish all of this. You’re not allowed to leave the table until it’s gone.” I swallowed hard. Was this real? Could such good fortune really be happening to me? Without hesitation, I devoured the food like a whirlwind, clearing the plate in no time. She frowned as she watched. “From now on, eat like this every day. Otherwise, people might think I’m mistreating you.” I nodded enthusiastically as I continued to eat. Once I was full, the subtitles appeared again. [What’s this wicked stepmother up to? Fattening up the girl to sell her for a higher price?] [This plot is so cruel, letting the heroine feel warmth only to abandon her later. The emotional impact will be devastating.] [The heroine is such a sweet, obedient little thing. No wonder so many men fall for her when she grows up.] Leaning back in her chair, my stepmother stretched lazily. “Just get rid of that shabby room of yours. It doesn’t look like a place fit for a human. “I had a room upstairs cleaned out for you. From now on, you’ll stay upstairs with me.” The dramatic pauses in her speech had me on edge. Her next words made my heart leap into my throat. My mind involuntarily flashed back to the subtitles. Could they be right? Was she really planning to fatten me up just to sell me later? That summer passed in constant anxiety, but school eventually started. Thanks to the meals my stepmother provided, I had put on some weight and now had chubby cheeks. She found it irresistible and couldn’t stop pinching them every day. I dared not protest. At school, everyone noticed the drastic changes in me. The once scrawny girl was now soft and clean, dressed in a brand-new dress. As I took my seat, the girl behind me, Lauren, kicked my heel forcefully. “Erika, where’s my stuff?” I knew she was asking about her summer homework. I lowered my head, not daring to speak. The maids who used to bully me had torn up my homework along with hers. Seeing I had nothing to give, Lauren kicked the back of my legs harder and sneered. “Just wait till after school!” Because I couldn’t turn in my homework, the teacher made me stand in front of the class as punishment. Lauren, emboldened by her family’s wealth and influence, got away with it while the teacher turned a blind eye. After school, I tried to avoid her by leaving through the side gate. But she still found me. She and her gang surrounded me, grabbing and dragging me toward the bathroom. This bathroom was secluded, rarely visited by anyone. Even if someone saw, they wouldn’t dare interfere. Lauren kicked me in the chest, slamming my head against the sink. “You little brat. How dare you defy Lauren?” “Do you have a death wish?” Her gang took turns hitting and kicking me until I was too weak to fight back. They were clever, aiming only for places covered by clothing to hide the bruises. When they finally stopped, I lay on the ground, trembling in pain. “This time, I’ll let you off, but if this happens again, I’ll make sure you disappear.” [The villainess is vicious even as a child! Her character is so juicy and dramatic!] [Finally, the plot is back on track. No more confusing detours.] [The heroine doesn’t even fight back because she knows no one will save her. So tragic!] Incidents like this happened weekly. Every time I resisted, the retaliation grew worse. For a brief moment, a trace of confusion flashed through my mind. It really did seem like no one would ever come to my rescue.

Once I managed to recover a little, I pushed myself up and staggered toward the door. That was when I saw my stepmother waiting outside. I was a mess, my new clothes covered in dirt. Afraid she would look down on me, I climbed into the car slowly, trying not to draw attention to myself. But she immediately lifted my skirt, revealing the bruises on my waist and abdomen. Her face turned dark with rage. “Damn it, who hit you?” she demanded. Oddly enough, her anger didn’t scare me. Instead, it made me feel safe. No one had ever shown any emotion for me before. I had always been a disposable presence. Having me around brought no joy, and my absence wouldn’t bring any grief. Even stray cats and dogs had better luck. Some of them at least found kind souls to take them in. I mumbled quietly, “Just classmates playing around. It doesn’t hurt.” Her voice rose sharply. “Playing around did this? If you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll send you away.” Terrified, my legs went weak, and I blurted everything out. I even mentioned Lauren’s father and how influential he was. That night, I overheard my stepmother on the phone. “What do you mean she’s just a burden? She calls me Mom. Do you think I’d throw her away? “This is your job. Are you doing it or not? If not, we’re done.” The next morning, she made me wear my dirty clothes from the day before and took me to school. At the entrance, a crowd of reporters with live-streaming equipment rushed toward us. Standing behind me, she gave me a subtle signal. Then, her expression changed, and tears streamed down her face.

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I was bound to a flattery system – the better I flirted, the more money I made. So I flirted with three men at once. Within six months, I’d earned enough for a villa. Just as I was raking in the cash, all three men suddenly appeared and cornered me. Their faces were grim as they said: “Choose. Who do you actually like? You can only pick one.” I sent a message to “Zane, 6’2″ celebrity heartthrob”: “Missing you.” A few seconds later, Zane replied: “Don’t miss me. I’m taking three girls on a road trip tomorrow. It’s gonna be wild.” Without missing a beat, I quickly responded: “Oh, you’re going on a trip with girls? Please be safe!” Zane: “…” I took a sip of my Earl Grey tea and opened a chat with the second guy on my list, “Finn, 6’1″ CEO”: “Good morning.” Then I started watching a period drama while waiting for a response. By the time I finished the entire show, there was still no reply. As expected. Unfazed, I sent a second message: “I looked it up – your zodiac sign is known for not replying to messages. I totally understand.” Finally, he responded: “If you’re that bored, you should get a job.” I seized the opportunity: “Does Mr. Finn need a secretary? I’m great at polishing desks.” Finn: “…” When he didn’t take the bait, I moved on to the third guy on my list, “Xavier, 6’3″ campus hunk” “Happy birthday, baby!” Then I initiated a money transfer. After a moment’s thought, I added: “Don’t be a party pooper – you have to accept it!” A moment later, the transfer was accepted. Xavier replied: “Thanks sis, you’re the best~” Tsk, college boys really know how to sweet talk. I asked kindly: “How are you planning to celebrate?” Xavier: “With the campus queen~” Smiling, I sent another $520 transfer: “This is for the campus queen’s hard work keeping you company on your birthday in my place.” He probably didn’t expect me to be so magnanimous. After a few seconds of hesitation, he accepted the transfer and sent an adorable cat emoji. “It’s so nice having you, sis~” Having taken care of everything, I tossed my phone aside and let my housekeeper massage my legs and back as I smiled at the floating text in the air. [System calculating rewards…] [3 basic flattery actions completed. Total income 400 , e x p e n s e r e i m b u r s e m e n t 400,expensereimbursement140, total earnings $540 deposited.] Seeing my assets grow a bit more, I stretched lazily. My best friend’s birthday was coming up – maybe I’d buy her a house. Or how about adding a supercar to go with it? If that’s the plan, I can’t slack off. I’ll need to work even harder these next couple days. After some thought, I called Zane: “Bro, which hotel are you staying at tomorrow with those three girls? I want to send you some condoms.” Zane: “?”

As you can see, when it comes to flattery, I’m a pro. It’s not that I want to flatter – it’s just that the system pays too well. The next day, I showed up at the resort carrying a bag of contraceptives, looking shifty. The security guard quickly stopped me: “What’s your business here?” I showed him the contents of my bag and said seriously: “Delivery. Bringing condoms for the boss.” The guard was shocked, but his professional demeanor accepted it all: “Hurry on in then.” When I found Zane, he was doing fancy swim strokes in the outdoor pool. Three bikini-clad beauties of different nationalities were cheering for him on the shore. Seeing me, Zane leisurely got out of the pool, shaking his head in slow motion, letting crystalline water droplets roll joyfully and beautifully down his eight-pack abs. I took half a step back to avoid getting my designer outfit wet from the water on his body. Zane noticed my movement, raising an eyebrow with an amused look: “Playing hard to get? Hazel, your pursuit tactics have improved.” Dude, you’re overthinking it. I shyly bent my swan-like slender neck, a faint cherry blossom pink spreading across my cheeks. I stomped my dainty foot and pouted coyly: “Big bro, you meanie~ Why do you always see right through me?” Zane’s face showed a hint of “I knew it” smugness. Noticing the bag in my hand, he asked: “You really brought them?” “I bought eight boxes,” I said obediently. “Let me know if you need more.” Zane chuckled lightly, magnanimously lifting his chin: “Sit.” Sit? Your sister doesn’t have time to sit with you. I still need to go flatter the next guy to make money. I waved my hand considerately: “I won’t disturb you, big bro. You have so many people here, you’d find me annoying. I’ll be going now…” Zane seemed to want to say something, but the three beauties gracefully surrounded him, blocking his view of me. I slipped away as smoothly as an eel. But as soon as I got in the car, I unexpectedly received a text from Zane. “Accidentally ordered too much for lunch. Stay and eat?” Me: ? What’s going on? I’ve only been flattering him for half a year, he couldn’t have fallen for me, right? When I first chose these guys, I specifically checked – Zane was a playboy by nature but picky about looks. He only liked bombshell 36D types. He had 800 girlfriends for each strand of hair, always recruiting new girlfriends, never long-term ones. Difficulty level: five stars. I chose him without hesitation. He’s one of my money trees. He absolutely cannot fall for me! I didn’t dare reply. Didn’t dare reply at all. I focused on driving, stopping at a red light. A string of messages came in succession. Zane: “Why aren’t you replying?” Zane: “Crying?” Zane: “(helpless facepalm) I told you I was taking three girls out to play. You insisted on coming to see. Now you’ve seen and you’re upset. Silly girl, I really don’t know what to do with you.” Zane: “Alright alright, I’ll transfer you $3000. Go buy yourself a bag.” Two minutes later. Zane: “? Why are you still not saying anything.” Zane: “Don’t tell me you’re crying from being moved again?” Me: Black person sweating awkwardly.jpg I nervously asked the system: “What happens if the target tries to pursue me?” The system’s tone was cold and merciless: “Deductions from your earnings based on severity.” Damn it! I decisively sent back a vicious voice message: “You think a measly $3000 is enough to move me? I spend more than that on a manicure! Keep it for your retirement fund! I’ve been sick of you for a long time, you good-for-nothing dirty cucumber man!” That felt good. Hopefully this voice message will erase any budding interest he had in me and help him return to being that elusive playboy. The phone was quiet for a long time. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a message notification buzzed. Nine resolute, earth-shattering words from Zane: “You’re quite cute when you’re jealous.”

The system’s cold voice sounded: [Detected flattery received. $200 deducted.] Damn it all to hell. I immediately blocked and deleted Zane to prevent any more flirty words from costing me money. Not a great start. I frantically dialed Xavier’s number. I remembered he didn’t have class today. The phone rang for a long time before Xavier’s half-asleep voice came through: “Sis?” I put on my best rich lady voice: “I miss you. How about sis takes you for a ride on a private jet?” After a few seconds, Xavier replied with a hint of amusement: “Sure, I’ll get ready.” “It’s a promise then. I’m coming to pick you up now.” I hung up and floored it towards my second money tree. What I lost from one man, I’ll reclaim from another. Xavier seemed to have dressed up a bit today – pure white hoodie, American-style embroidery, giving off a first-kiss-still-intact vibe. I helped him fasten his seatbelt, narrowing my eyes: “You look very handsome today. Sis likes it a lot.” Xavier smiled innocently: “That’s great. I hope she likes it too.” She? Just as I was about to ask who “she” was, a girl got into the car. Matching white hoodie, mini skirt, pure and sexy makeup. Who else but the campus queen. The campus queen smiled sweetly: “Thanks for taking us out, sis~” I looked at Xavier. He smiled calmly: “You don’t mind bringing along one skinny girl, right sis?” I don’t mind at all. Not one bit. As long as the plane can fit them, you could bring eight girls for all I care. Sis just loves guys like you who are already taken. How is this any different from an iron rice bowl? I was so happy I could die. But I made sure to look at Xavier and say sincerely: “As long as you’re happy, that’s sis’s greatest fortune.” That was definitely the truth. Xavier gave me a long look, the corners of his lips curling up slightly without saying anything. The three of us took the private jet to my vacation island. The campus queen “wowed” all the way from the west side of the island to the east, starry-eyed the whole time. I quickly entered money-making mode: “Xavier, what flavor crepe would you like? Sis will make it for you.” “Vanilla, thanks sis.” Xavier glanced at the campus queen. Before he could open his mouth, I already knew what he was going to say. “What flavor crepe does your girlfriend like? Sis will make an even bigger one for her,” I said kindly. The ultimate move of a top-tier flatterer – love me, love my dog. Xavier choked for a moment: “She’s not… never mind.” He seemed to want to say something but held back, turning to ask the campus queen who was busy taking selfies what flavor she wanted. I’m a crepe-making pro. In less than five minutes, I had two ready and delivered to their hands. You ask why I’m so skilled? Because I’ve made them for other men before. Practice makes perfect. After eating the crepes, I took them out on a yacht. Along the way, I fussed over the campus queen, worried she was too hot or too cold, worried she was hungry or too full. When the campus queen got seasick, I fed her medicine. When she took photos, I showered her with compliments. It got to the point where Xavier couldn’t get a chance to show off in front of the campus queen at all. Finally Xavier got impatient. When the campus queen stumbled from drinking too much champagne, he rushed to catch her before I could. He carefully held her, his eyes full of concern. The sun was setting, casting the two of them in a warm orange glow. They looked good together. I tactfully headed towards the cabin: “I suddenly need to use the bathroom. You two carry on.” I flopped onto the bed, watching the total assets in my account jump up by tens of thousands after the system’s calculations. I couldn’t help but cheer: “Woo-hoo!” Then I put on some jazz music and started dancing. Just as I got to the hip-thrusting part, I looked up and met a pair of dark eyes by the door. “Xavier?” I froze, quickly stopping my hip movements. “Weren’t you with the campus queen…” Xavier’s eyes were gloomy and filled with discontent: “You really want us to be together?” Me: ? A bad feeling washed over me. I cautiously said: “Aren’t you already together?” Xavier narrowed his eyes: “No. I bribed her to act. I wanted to make you jealous.” Sis isn’t the jealous type by nature. Is today the end of the world? Why is everyone changing their personalities? On the verge of collapse, I asked: “Why did you suddenly want to do that?” Xavier tugged at his collar. His collarbone was flushed from alcohol as he lowered his gaze and said softly: “It wasn’t sudden. It’s been bothering me for a long time. At first I was just after your money, but you went too far. You love me so excessively. Even my mom expects something in return from me, but you don’t ask for anything.” I slumped onto the round bed. He crouched down, like an obedient tipsy puppy, looking at me with moist eyes. “The internet says love is possessiveness, but you’ve never been jealous over me. I want to know, is it because you love me too much, or because you don’t love me at all?” The last question shook me to my core. His gaze nearly pierced through my eyes to probe my heart. I instinctively held my breath, thinking to myself: “Stay calm, Hazel. You can handle this.” In this critical moment, inspiration struck and I steadily uttered two words: “Loved you.” Xavier: “?” I wiped my face, feeling like a melancholic midnight rose: “Bro, let me be honest with you. Sis did love you, but sis suddenly feels like she doesn’t love you anymore. Sometimes a woman’s heart is just like that.” What young man can accept being dumped so abruptly? None of them can. Self-esteem is an extremely fragile thing, especially for men, and even more so for young men. He would definitely lose interest in me in an instant, viewing me as the person he hates most in this life. Then I could continue flattering him again. Just as I was feeling smug, I was suddenly pushed down onto the bed, my hands tied above my head with a strap. Xavier pressed down on me, playing with a peeling knife that appeared out of nowhere. His eyes held a craziness I’d never seen before. “Sis, you can’t do this.” “You’ve loved me for so long, you can’t just stop loving me. Won’t you fall in love with me again?” “If I don’t have your love, I feel like I’ll go insane. Your love for me died, so why don’t we die together?” His breath fell on my neck, making my whole body break out in goosebumps. Shit, this guy turned out to be a yandere psycho! The system chimed in again: [Detected strong flattery received. $300 deducted.] Xavier slowly traced the back of the knife along my skin, the corners of his eyes tinged red, his voice husky like aged wine: “Didn’t sis say that as long as I’m happy, that’s enough? I’ll be happy as long as sis loves me again.” He gripped my chin, his tone coaxing: “Be a good sis, say you love me.” [Deducting $400.] I blurted out: “Fuck!” Xavier’s whole body trembled, his voice taking on a quivering tone: “Curse at me again, sis. It feels so good.” ? Who can understand this? When crazy opens the door for crazy, crazy comes home. Just as I thought I was going to die at his hands today, there was a loud bang from the sky and the campus queen made a dazzling entrance. Seeing our compromising position, the campus queen let out a “Hi!” and threw Xavier onto the floor, then crawled on top of me. With flushed cheeks and reeking of alcohol, she buried her face in my chest and nuzzled: “Sis, don’t like him anymore. Like me instead, okay?” Me: Uh, miss? The campus queen said passionately: “Only a girl truly understands what another girl wants. I won’t let you get hurt. I only like you, okay?” I looked troubled: “That sounds great, but—” Xavier gritted his teeth and crawled up from the floor. Just as he brought his face close, the campus queen smiled and threw a punch, knocking him out cold back onto the floor. “Learned some Muay Thai,” the campus queen smiled gently. “Please continue, sis.” I swallowed hard: “Well, I suppose it’s not impossible.” The campus queen hugged me contentedly and fell asleep. I struggled with all my might to undo the restraints and fled to shore in the middle of the night. Just as I caught my breath, I received a new message. From Finn. “Come pick me up from work.”

I stared at those words, lost in thought. In the past, I would voluntarily go pick him up from work every day, since each time earned me $500. But given the two mishaps today, to be on the safe side, I called him. I cut straight to the chase: “You’re not planning to transfer me $3000, are you?” Finn: “?” Me: “You don’t have any other women around to make me jealous, do you?” “…” Finn was silent for three seconds. “Hazel, did you take the wrong medication?” Hearing him scold me as usual felt warm and reassuring. I sighed: “Wait for me, I’ll be right there.” At the bottom of Finn’s office building, Finn stood in the wind. He was cupping his hands to light a cigarette. Seeing me get out of the car, he immediately put it out. My voice was so gentle it could squeeze out water: “Let’s go, Finny. Let’s get in the car.” Finn raised his chin, gesturing for me to look at the Porsche Cayenne nearby. Oh, Mr. CEO is tired of my Maybach. No problem, I can drive any car. I scurried over and pulled open the driver’s door, saying to the driver inside: “Brother, get out. Shift change.” The driver was dumbfounded: “Miss, you?” Finn seemed to sigh, walking over to open the back door: “Get in.” “Huh?” I was a bit confused but did as he said. Finn also got in and the car started driving smoothly. I asked: “Finny, where are we going?” Finn said: “You’ll know when we get there.” An ominous feeling vaguely rose in my heart. Thirty minutes later, the car pulled into an amusement park that had already closed for the day. What’s going on? Amusement park horror night? As soon as I got out of the car, I heard Finn snap his fingers coolly. In an instant, lights came on all over the amusement park, as if a dormant fairy tale world had suddenly come to life before our eyes. I understood. I grinned widely: “If you wanted me to accompany you to the amusement park, you could have just said so.” Finn held my wrist through his sleeve and led me inside, stopping in front of the carousel. Golden neon lights flickered, dreamy music enveloping us. Fragments of memories flashed through my mind, briefly making me lose focus. I sniffled and pulled out my phone, patting his butt: “Go on, go on. I’ll take photos for you.” Finn was first shocked by me patting his butt, but eventually held back and snatched my phone: “You go. I’ll take the photos.” “?” I flew into a rage. “Why don’t you just rob me directly?” Does this guy know how much money this will cost me? Finn: “?” After a two-second standoff, Finn pressed his lips together: “I like watching people ride the carousel.” “?” I suddenly understood. So he brought me here because he has that kind of fetish. I patted his shoulder understandingly: “You should have said so earlier. Sis will satisfy you.” I happily ran towards my favorite horse. The music turned romantic and beautiful, the lights around us slowly rising and falling, a gentle breeze caressing my face. In the past, I had only watched others ride. So this is what it feels like to ride a carousel. After going on several rides together, my stomach growled as we got off the mini train. He suddenly asked: “What flavor crepe do you want?” I was stunned for a moment. No one had ever asked me that question before. It was always me asking others. I thought seriously: “I want durian flavor.” Finn nodded and rolled up his sleeves, walking into a crepe truck. I was dumbfounded again. I thought he would just buy me one at most. I didn’t expect him to make it himself. He skillfully spread out the batter, the aroma wafting out with the heat. When handling the durian flesh, his facial expression was very stiff, most likely holding his breath. Watching him concentrate on plating under the lights, I suddenly felt my heartbeat become more noticeable in my left chest. He brought the plate over, a hint of anticipation hidden beneath his calm expression: “Try it.” I took a bite. Wow, it tasted better than mine. He asked: “How is it?” I was about to say “Super delicious” when a harsh female voice sounded in my mind: [Mid-level flattery received. $500 deducted.] Anger burst out of my mouth: “It’s okay. Just okay.” Based on my judgment of Finn, he would definitely get angry, grab my neck and growl “Woman, you’re playing with fire.” But he didn’t.

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In the dead of night, I came across a post online. “What should I do if I’ve fallen for my female tenant? I’ve never liked someone this much before.” Just when I thought it was going to be some sweet story about a secret crush, things started to feel strange as I kept reading. The photos in the post looked a lot like the hallway in my building. The description matched me perfectly, but I wasn’t the tenant – I was the landlord. People in the comments were giving him advice: “Women are just playing hard to get. Give her a forceful kiss, and she’ll give in eventually.” “Even the toughest girls can’t resist persistence. Plus, you’re so handsome, she definitely won’t be able to turn you down.” “That’s how I got my wife. Once you sleep with her, she’ll do whatever you want.” The more I read, the more unsettled I felt. This wasn’t romance – it was straight-up harassment. Just then, my tenant Lucas sent me a message. It was past midnight when I came across a post online. “What should I do if I’ve fallen for my female tenant? I’ve never liked someone this much before.” At first, I thought it was just another sweet story about a secret crush. But as I kept reading, things started to feel off. The photos in the post looked eerily similar to the hallway in my apartment building. The description of the girl matched me perfectly. But here’s the thing – I wasn’t a tenant. I was the landlord. People in the comments were giving him advice: “Women are just playing hard to get. Give her a forceful kiss, and she’ll give in eventually.” “Even the toughest girls can’t resist persistence. Plus, you’re so handsome, she definitely won’t be able to turn you down.” “That’s how I got my wife. Once you sleep with her, she’ll do whatever you want.” The more I read, the more unsettled I felt. This wasn’t romance – it was straight-up harassment. Just then, I got a message from my tenant, Lucas. “Hey, are you there? I think there might be a problem with the plumbing in my apartment. Could you come take a look?” If I hadn’t seen that post, I probably would have gone over without a second thought. As a long-time landlord, I was pretty handy with minor repairs like changing light bulbs, fixing pipes, or unclogging toilets. I always tried my best to help tenants with issues within my abilities. But now, I was hesitant to go. That post alone was enough to give me the creeps. Plus, I had just had the entire building thoroughly inspected a few days ago. All the plumbing and electrical systems were fine. How could there suddenly be a problem right after he moved in? I looked out at the pitch-black sky and felt a chill run down my spine. It was summer, but I felt an icy wind seeping under my clothes. I decided to assume the worst and be cautious. With that in mind, I typed out a response: “I’m not home today, and I’m not really sure how to fix plumbing issues. How about my boyfriend comes by to take a look tomorrow? What time works for you?” Lucas’s status immediately changed to “typing”. He seemed to be struggling with how to reply. I didn’t bother waiting and went to get ready for bed. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I felt like there was a pair of eyes watching me from somewhere in the darkness. I didn’t even shower, just rushed to my bedroom. I wedged a door stopper under the door, finally feeling a bit safer. I had just picked up my phone when I saw Lucas’s reply. “How about 8 PM? That’s when I get off work.” I let out a sigh of relief. Maybe it was just a coincidence after all. I mean, apartment hallways all look pretty similar. And there were probably tons of girls in the city with long black hair who were 5’6″ like me. Plus, the guy in the post said he liked his female tenant. I was the landlord, not a tenant. Most importantly, Lucas was pretty average-looking. You could easily forget his face in a crowd. He definitely wasn’t the handsome guy from the post. As they say, your face reflects your heart. Who would have thought such an attractive exterior could hide such an ugly soul? Just moments ago, I saw the poster like and reply “DM me” to one of the comments giving him advice. He clearly had bad intentions. Like many others, I saved the post, curious to see what he would do next. But now I had to figure out what to do about this fake boyfriend tomorrow. I wasn’t actually dating anyone. With that in mind, I called up my good friend Ryan and asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend tomorrow. It never hurts to be cautious. Pretending to have a boyfriend can help avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble.

The next day, as I was getting ready to head out, I ran into Lucas face-to-face. I had rented him the apartment above mine. The elevator was working fine, so he must have been deliberately waiting there. When I opened my door, I saw him quickly step back. He had been standing right outside my apartment. My heart skipped a beat as I suddenly thought of all those news stories about women living alone who end up as victims. In that moment, I deeply regretted not having Ryan come over earlier. “Amelia? I thought you weren’t home?” Lucas said. Those words sent chills down my spine. If he thought I wasn’t home, why was he waiting outside my door? What was he planning to do? Trying to hide my fear, I replied coldly, “I got back early this morning. What are you doing outside my apartment? My boyfriend will be here any minute. If you don’t need anything, he can head to your place earlier.” Lucas scratched his head, looking a bit embarrassed. “My cat got out. I thought I heard meowing coming from your apartment. Did it maybe sneak in there?” As he spoke, he tried to peek into my apartment, his eyes darting around. “I don’t have a cat. Go look somewhere else,” I said firmly. But he ignored me and took a step forward, wedging his foot in the doorway. “I’ll just take a quick look. I won’t bother you, I promise. Please let me in,” he insisted. I instinctively tried to close the door, but I was no match for a grown man, even a skinny one like him. “If you don’t back off, I’m calling the police!” I threatened. Just then, my savior arrived. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” Ryan shouted. With one hand, he yanked Lucas away from the door and slammed him against the opposite wall. Lucas let out a yelp as he hit the wall and slumped to the floor. “Were you trying to break in? I’m calling the cops!” Ryan pulled out his phone, looking ready to actually call. Lucas scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain, and quickly apologized to Ryan. “No, no, please don’t! I was just trying to find my cat. She closed the door on my foot when I tried to look inside. I wasn’t breaking in, I swear. It’s all a misunderstanding!” “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to!” Ryan snapped. Lucas turned to me and bowed deeply, apologizing profusely. Now that I had calmed down a bit, I wanted to confirm one more thing. “This is my boyfriend,” I said, gesturing to Ryan. “Didn’t you say your plumbing was broken? Why don’t we go take a look now?” Lucas’s expression flickered for a moment before he replied, “Oh, the plumbing? I actually managed to fix it myself yesterday. Everything’s fine now. Sorry for the trouble.” With that, he turned and left, not mentioning the cat again. I was in no state to go to work. All I could think about was Lucas trying to force his way into my apartment. If Ryan hadn’t shown up, I didn’t want to imagine what might have happened. I sat on the couch as Ryan brought me a glass of water. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. “I’m fine. How did you get here so early?” Ryan stuffed a bagel in his mouth. “Your message last night freaked me out. I flew back first thing this morning and came straight here. Good thing I did.” “How long is your lease with this guy? Just terminate it. Having someone like that living nearby is like a ticking time bomb.” So I sent Lucas a message saying I was terminating his lease. He didn’t reply for a long time. But I saw that the post about the crush had been updated: “The female tenant has a boyfriend. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. But I think I still have a good chance. After all, girls these days prefer slim, fair-skinned guys like me.” “I went to her door today looking for my lost cat. We chatted a bit, and she even batted her eyelashes at me. Her boyfriend caught us and punched me.” “Now she says she doesn’t want to rent to me anymore. It must be her boyfriend’s idea. Can anyone tell me what I should do?” Now I was certain the poster was Lucas. Even if the earlier similarities were coincidental, there was no way this could be another coincidence. He must have stolen the profile picture from someone else. Some commenters were starting to catch on: “Homewreckers are despicable.” “Even if you’re handsome, it’s not okay to break up someone else’s relationship.” But some people still believed in “looks are everything”: “She flirted with him too! It’s not like the guy is delusional.” “OMG, not only is he gorgeous, but he’s also an animal lover? I’m in love!” “I live for this kind of forbidden romance.” “Keep pursuing her! Maybe she’ll dump her boyfriend and get with you. The tenant could become the landlady!” I forwarded the post to Ryan. “‘Tall, dark, and handsome’? Excuse me, this is called a sun-kissed glow. I worked hard for this tan, thank you very much! What does he know? Who would want a scrawny guy who goes down with one punch? My lean muscles are what’s trendy now!” Ryan’s finger swiped left, opening the poster’s profile. “Wait a second. This photo…”

“What about the photo?” I asked. Ryan’s face lit up with glee as he pointed at the profile picture. “This guy is our CEO’s son. He’s usually such an arrogant jerk. Can you imagine what would happen if he found out Lucas stole his photos and was posting this kind of stuff online? Or what if the CEO learned someone was tarnishing his son’s reputation on the internet? What do you think he’d do?” Ryan cackled and forwarded the post to our CEO. “Big news, boss! Your son is trying to be a homewrecker!” Then he deleted the message exactly 2 minutes and 50 seconds later. I asked if he was worried about getting in trouble with upper management. He shook his head. “The CEO isn’t that petty. He might even thank me for letting him know before his son does something worse.” I could only pray that guy wouldn’t get beaten too badly. Sorry, dude. Lucas was still replying to comments: “Thanks for the support, everyone! I won’t give up. Even if I have to be the other man, I’ll win over my female tenant!” What a joke. He was the tenant, pretending to be the landlord. How insecure must he be about his own identity? He also argued with those calling him a homewrecker: “You don’t know anything! This is about pursuing true love!” “I know you’re just jealous because you’re unlucky in love. It must kill you that I’m handsome and own several rental properties.” “I’m not blind. I know when a woman is flirting with me. She wore a short skirt when she came to view the apartment. If that’s not seduction, what is?” Good grief. Wearing a short skirt is seduction? Then every woman on the street must be trying to seduce him. It’s summer – am I supposed to wear snow pants instead of a skirt? The more I read, the more disgusted I felt. How could someone so ordinary be so delusional and such a liar? That familiar username popped up again with more “advice”. His handle was WildHeart. “Don’t doubt yourself. When a woman wears a short skirt, she’s deliberately trying to seduce men. That’s how I got my wife – I couldn’t resist when she wore a short skirt. She cried and threw a fit afterwards, but after I sweet-talked her, didn’t she end up marrying me? She went from a country bumpkin to a city girl overnight. Now she’s living the high life. You’re being too gentle. Next time her boyfriend isn’t around, just force yourself on her. She’ll give in eventually.” This was straight-up inciting criminal behavior. Did he think there were no consequences for what you say online? I saved his comments as evidence and consulted a lawyer, but they said a case couldn’t be opened without something actually happening. I was furious but felt helpless. Women in this world have to face so many dangers and endure so much malice. Not only is wearing a skirt seen as an invitation, but even walking down the street can lead to harassment. It’s terrifying. WildHeart’s comment section was flooded with angry replies, but he didn’t care. He just blocked anyone who criticized him. I clicked on his profile and found it was full of toxic posts. He said being assaulted wasn’t a bad thing for women because it could increase the birth rate. He also claimed women these days don’t have children because they’re too educated. The guy was clearly insane. That night, Ryan stayed in my guest room. He even skipped work, worried something might happen to me. When my mom heard about the situation, she told me to move out immediately. These days, losing money was nothing compared to encountering someone truly dangerous. What rotten luck – I was the landlord being forced out by a tenant. As I was packing my things, Ryan called out from the window. “Our CEO’s son just showed up with five huge guys and a baseball bat! His face looks a bit swollen – the CEO probably smacked him around. Looks like he’s here for revenge on Lucas.” From the stairwell, we watched the young man kick down Lucas’s door. “Open up!” he shouted. When Lucas didn’t answer, the young man ordered his crew to pick the lock. “So you’re the ugly loser pretending to be me online and ruining my reputation?”

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