Category: English

My wife’s golden boy’s sterility report got leaked on the university’s anonymous confession page. To protect his dignity, my wife teamed up with a doctor to forge evidence that I was the one sleeping around and became sterile. She made everyone think that report was mine. People assumed I was living some depraved double life, betraying the professor they all respected. They flooded the forum with hate, demanding I leave the school. I confronted her, desperate. Why would she do this? She just rubbed her temples, looking bored. “Julian is just a kid. He can’t handle the rumors. You’re a grown man, Ethan. Why are you competing with him?” I stared at her in disbelief. All those sweet nothings, all those late-night promises. Now they were just knives, twisting in my chest. I smiled bitterly. I decided to let myself off the hook. — When I told her I wanted a divorce, my wife didn’t even look up from proofreading Julian’s thesis. “What are you throwing a fit about now? Is this because I gave your lab data to Julian?” I didn’t answer. Claire shifted into a more comfortable position. “Or is it because I told everyone that sterility report on the confession page was yours?” She sighed, like she was disappointed in me. “Ethan, you’re already married. Some trashy rumor won’t hurt you. But Julian’s different. He’s still a student. The gossip could destroy him. Don’t be childish.” “How is he supposed to live with himself? You want him to lose all his dignity?!” My fingers were cold. I forced myself to stay calm. “Just sign the papers.” The door to the Dean’s office swung open. Julian walked in with a bright smile that instantly turned nervous when he saw me. “Oh, Professor. I didn’t know you’d be here. I came to ask Claire a few questions.” I laughed coldly. I’d clearly seen him holding two movie tickets when he walked in. “No problem. Your precious Claire just needs to sign one thing, then I’ll be out of your way. Otherwise, I’m stuck here.” Claire’s face darkened. But she glanced at Julian’s expectant expression, then gritted her teeth and signed the divorce papers. “You’d better not regret this.” Walking out of the Dean’s office, I couldn’t help but laugh. Thirty years as childhood sweethearts. Seven years of marriage. Finally over. I called the number I’d had pinned at the top of my contacts. The voice on the other end was clear and bright, just like always. “You’re really coming? Ha! You finally came to your senses.” “I still need to wait thirty days for the divorce to be finalized.” “No problem. As long as you’re willing to come, we’ll always welcome you!” Just thinking about thirty days until total freedom, I couldn’t stop smiling.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smiled like this. It felt like it had been so long since anyone cared about me. I’d been depressed for too long. I made myself an elaborate dinner that night. Poured a glass of wine. Celebrated my new beginning. My phone buzzed with a message. “I’m coming home tonight. Have my bath ready.” Claire loved her aromatherapy soaks. I’d gotten the bath blend custom-made by a holistic practitioner I knew. Calming, soothing. She always slept like a baby after. She just hadn’t come home to sleep in a very long time. Before I could block her, another message came through. “Something came up. Lab work. I’ll come home in a few days.” I laughed coldly as I deleted and blocked her number. Lab work, my ass. Same old excuse. Sure enough, the latest post on social media was from Julian—a candlelit dinner at a five-star hotel. Caption: “Not just dinner together. Breakfast too.” Before bed, I got a message from an unknown number. “Still sulking? Fine. Next month on our anniversary, I’ll spend it with you.” I stared at the message, stunned. Then it hit me. Claire and I hadn’t celebrated our anniversary in years. What the hell was this supposed to mean? She was cheating on me, sleeping with her student, and she expected me to be grateful? I blocked every new number she used to contact me. Slept like a rock. I swear my years of depression just evaporated overnight. The next day, Claire looked like she had dark circles under her eyes. The moment Claire saw me, she looked irritated. “Ethan, why did you block me? You’re not answering my messages.” I looked at her, amused. “Professor Davis, our research project ended a while ago. You removed my name from the authorship and replaced it with Julian’s. We won’t be collaborating again. I don’t see why I can’t block you.” Claire sighed, putting on that signature look of disappointment. “It’s just a byline, Ethan. You’re a senior professor. You already have academic standing. What’s wrong with letting a young person take credit?” I stared at her, speechless. She acted like it was no big deal. Why didn’t she give her own byline to Julian, then? But I’d already lost interest in arguing with her. “That’s academic misconduct. I’m being generous by not reporting you. Professionally, we have no reason to stay in touch. Personally, we’re divorced. Either way, I don’t need your contact info. Please stop harassing me.” Claire hadn’t expected me to talk to her like that. She was silent for a few seconds. Then she smiled. “Ethan, you’ve gotten clever. Playing hard to get now, huh?” I rolled my eyes and turned to leave. But Claire grabbed my arm.

“Next month, our anniversary. I’ll take you to that diner you love. You always liked their burgers, right?” “Can I get extra cheese?” I asked deliberately. She frowned. “Extra cheese? You didn’t used to be so high-maintenance.” I thought about the photo Julian had posted last night—dinner at a five-star hotel, probably cost over ten grand. She could drop that kind of money on him without blinking. But for our once-in-several-years anniversary, she’d take me to some greasy spoon where a meal cost less than five bucks. She wouldn’t even spring for extra cheese. I smiled bitterly. Didn’t say another word. That night, I went home and told my parents I was getting divorced. My father’s brow furrowed. He spoke coolly. “Claire Davis is nothing. If you hadn’t insisted I introduce her to people in the academic circle, you think she’d be where she is now?” My mother’s eyes turned red. “Sweetheart, if you’re unhappy, we’ll get her removed from her position.” I shook my head. “Forget it. Let’s just part ways peacefully.” I made my parents a pot of coffee. The scent of the coffee calmed my nerves a little. The next day in class, I was at the front of the lecture hall analyzing a case study. Whispers broke out among the students. College students were always distracted. I didn’t think much of it and kept teaching. Suddenly, someone shouted. “Professor Reid, is it true you and Professor Davis are getting divorced?” “Did Professor Davis leave you because you’re sterile? Can’t satisfy her anymore?” “You’ve been married seven years and still no kids. Is it because you sleep around too much and got some kind of disease? Is that a medical condition?” I forced myself to stay calm. Managed a smile. “We’re parting on good terms.” “He’s lying!” Julian stood up, looking smug. “Professor Davis already told me. Professor Reid was unfaithful. Lost his ability to have kids. That’s why she’s divorcing him.” I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to provoke me like this. I’d had enough. “You have the nerve to say that? That sterility report was clearly—” SLAP. The entire classroom went silent. My face snapped to the side. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I looked up at the person who’d hit me. Claire. I hadn’t even noticed her come in. She looked at me pleadingly. “Ethan, if you make a mistake, you admit it. That’s what a teacher does!” Before I could respond, she dismissed the entire class. Once we were alone, she looked at me with fake concern and reached for my swollen cheek. I jerked away from her hand, ice-cold. She spoke quickly. “Ethan, you know I’m up for tenure review. I can’t have any scandals. If people find out you’re the one who asked for the divorce, I won’t be able to explain.” “The whole sterility thing happened so long ago. Why bring it up again? You can’t be that cruel, ruining Julian’s life.” I was shaking. “What about me? My reputation and dignity don’t matter?”

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Six years of dating Caelum Voss, and he slid a document across the table. I thought it was a mate registration form. I reached for the pen, ready to sign. The heading read: MISTRESS AGREEMENT. Three-year term. On call at all times. Renewal subject to satisfaction. My fingers went cold. “Caelum. What exactly is this?” He lit a cigarette with the ease of a man unbothered by anything, his voice light and careless and cruel all at once. “The pack elders have been pushing hard. My father already arranged a status-matched bond for me. I need to register a formal mate.” “Then what am I?” My voice came out rough. He looked up and smiled, thin and without warmth. “Be fair to me, love.” “Your father abandoned your mother and came crawling back sick. You supported him. Your ex drained you dry and left you with his debts. You paid those, too.” “All I am asking is that you step into the shadows. That is not unreasonable.” The terms sat on the page in clean, merciless lines. Party B shall remain available on demand and shall not inquire into Party A’s whereabouts. Party B shall not display physical affection toward Party A in any public setting. Should Party B become pregnant, the matter shall be resolved at Party B’s sole discretion. I stared at that last line. My hand moved to my stomach without thinking. My fingertips were ice. Caelum reclined on the sofa, smoke curling from between his fingers. His eyes drifted over me. “Sign it.” He flicked the ash. “What are you waiting for?” I set the contract down. My voice shook with something I refused to call grief. “Caelum. We have been together six years.” “So?” He almost laughed. “Six years, and you still have not walked through the front door, have you?” That landed exactly where he intended. Six years. He had taken me to pack functions and family gatherings too many times to count. The introduction was always: ” My assistant.” His mother had pulled me aside more than once to suggest, warmly, that a woman my age ought to be thinking about settling down. I had believed she was nudging us toward a formal bond. She had been nudging me out the door in the most civilized way she knew. “Then what were these six years?” I asked. He crushed the cigarette out, stood, and crossed to me. “Mutual benefit.” He reached out and ran his thumb along my jaw. “Sera. You gave me six years, and I covered six years of your life. How many medical bills did your salary actually cover? That debt your ex left behind, you cleared it on my account.” He paused, then smiled. “You used me freely. Now I want to keep using you. That is an equal exchange.” My eyes burned. I did not let a single tear fall. He had not said it before, but that did not make it untrue now. My father had walked out on my mother and come back broken and old. I had been too soft to turn him away. His care had emptied every account I had. As for my ex, he had barely been more than a stranger who called us official one month and disappeared the next. I only found out he had taken out loans in my name when the collectors showed up at the doors of pack headquarters. It had been Caelum who made that problem disappear. I had always known I owed him. I had not known he was keeping score. “So,” I said, stepping back from his hand, “you are telling me these six years held no real feeling. Only investment.” Caelum laughed once. “Investment? What investment value do you think you have?” He produced a card and set it beside the contract. “Five million. Sign, and it is yours.” “Three years as my mistress. Renew after that if you want. Walk away if you do not. Either way, the money is yours.” I looked down at the card. Five million. Enough to clear every debt. Not enough to buy me. That sentence circled three times in my throat and never came out. Because I thought of my father’s care facility and the overdue notice already sitting in my bag. Caelum knew I had nothing left to pay with. That was why he could drop that card in front of me like he was tossing a bone and waiting to see if I would take it. “What is wrong?” He watched me go still, then lit another cigarette. “Not enough?” I said nothing. “Fair enough. Six years of your life, five million is not generous.” He exhaled slowly, and the smoke drifted into my face, stinging my eyes. “But that is mistress pricing. Not mate pricing. That is the number your position is worth right now.” He let that settle, then added, “Of course, you are free not to sign. If you do not, you cannot stay in the apartment either.” Something clenched hard around my chest. Six years in that apartment. I had stopped thinking of it as his. The succulents on the balcony were ones I had chosen and tended pot by pot. The spice rack in the kitchen was arranged the way I liked it. The photo on the nightstand had always been the two of us. I had believed it was our home. It turned out I had always been a tenant he could clear out whenever he chose.

“Caelum.” My voice was still unsteady. “If you have no real feeling for me, we can end this cleanly. You do not need to humiliate me to do it.” “Feeling?” He said the word as he had never heard it used seriously before. “Sera, did your father have feelings for you?” “Did your ex?” “All those people you gave everything to. Did any of them have feelings for you?” He needed me to say it out loud: every bond I had ever stretched myself thin for had never truly held. “Probably,” he answered himself, and his voice went quieter. “At least at the start.” My tears finally fell. Not because he was cruel, but because somewhere inside what he had just said, I recognized something true. “Are you signing or not?” He held the pen out, patience gone. I reached out and took it. I turned to page two, clause five: Should Party B become pregnant, the matter shall be resolved at Party B’s sole discretion. My hand paused. Caelum added offhandedly, “Do not worry. I will not let that happen. My intended mate’s family is traditional. No pups born outside a registered bond.” Intended mate. The title I had waited six years for, and it had never once belonged to me. “Caelum, what if I told you I was already…” The words reached my lips, and I swallowed them back. There was no point. I looked down and said, very quietly, “What if I told you I had already spoken with my mother and arranged a bonding ceremony for early next month. Would you still make me sign this?” “Your mother?” He almost laughed. “The one who threw herself into the river? Who exactly did you consult?” He exhaled slowly, and the smoke blurred the lines of his face. “Even without all of this, I had no intention of registering a bond this young.” “Early next month. You have quite an imagination.” I closed my eyes. Six years. We were both nearly thirty. That was not young. The bond that could never happen had been impossible from the very beginning. When I opened my eyes, my fingers had stopped shaking. I signed the final page. “Good girl.” Caelum lifted the agreement, satisfied. “Everything stays the same. The only difference is, from now on, you call me Alpha Voss.” He leaned down and pressed a cold kiss to my forehead. “Good.” He left. The door closed behind him without a sound. I stood there looking at the card on the table. Slowly, I folded down until my face was buried in my knees. Outside, rain had started. The same kind of rain that was falling the night he pulled me in off the street six years ago. That night, he had been the one holding the umbrella. Now he was the one who had pushed me back out into it. I do not know how long I stayed like that, until my legs went numb and there were no tears left. I stood slowly, walked to the bathroom, turned on the cold tap, and pressed the water against my face. I held it there until the face in the mirror was steady again. Then I picked up my phone and dialed. “Mom. You were right. I lost.” “That thing you mentioned before. You do not have to wait anymore. I am ready.” There was a pause on the line. “Are you certain? Once we begin, there is no going back.” I looked out at the rain. “I am certain.”

The next morning, I went to the care facility first. My father was in his wheelchair, being pushed through the courtyard by an attendant, letting the morning sun fall on him. He had aged past recognition. His hair had gone entirely white, and he looked like a tree hollowed out from the inside. I held out the card. “This card has five million on it. Enough for the best care facility, enough for a private nurse. I will not be coming back after today.” “Because she asked me to come to her clean.” His lips trembled. He looked as though he had a hundred things to ask. I did not give him the chance. Some memories I have no wish to touch again. “But the moment I turned to leave, the past came flooding back anyway.” I remembered the year his business collapsed, the way he knelt in front of me and asked if I could forgive him. I found it funny, in a hollow sort of way. My mother had spent herself fighting to hold on to a man, and in the end, all she received from him was one cheap word of regret. So I had promised myself I would never do what she did: beg, cling, and lose everything in the end. I was about to tell him I did not forgive him when a flash of white crossed the edge of my vision, and a van with no control came straight for me. The next second, something massive shoved me out of the way. I hit the ground hard. When I turned back, he was lying in a pool of blood, the front of the van buried into the left side of his body. He had taken the impact meant for me. That was the only reason he had ended up in that facility. The five million was not because he was my father. It was because I owed him a life.

After that was done, I went to pack headquarters as usual. Caelum walked into the operations wing while I was sorting files. He looked at me once, nothing in his expression. “Sera. Bring this quarter’s report to my office.” “Of course, Alpha Voss.” I said it without thinking twice. He stopped for just a beat. “You adjusted quickly.” He said it quietly, almost to himself. He passed me and let his fingers graze the back of my hand as he went. I did not pull away. I did not respond. Their relationship had never been a secret inside pack headquarters. Six years of him walking me out after shifts, six years of appearances at pack functions together, and everyone had known without it ever being said out loud. But because it had never been made official, his calling me Sera and my calling him Alpha Voss looked, to everyone else, perfectly appropriate. That evening, he sent me a location. I took a car there. When I pushed open the suite door, rose petals covered the floor, and a silk slip hung from the rack by the wardrobe. “She was gone, but her perfume still lingered in the air.” Behind me, Caelum’s voice came from the doorway. “Seen enough?” I turned around. He leaned against the frame, cigarette in hand, watching me with something that was not quite a smile. “The bonding ceremony is next week. I need you there to help manage the guests.”

I pulled out the calm I had been training into myself all week. “Help how?” They had hired a full professional coordination team for the engagement party. The last thing they needed was me, a former girlfriend, getting in the way. “Receive the guests. You know the pack members. Keep things running smoothly.” He exhaled slowly. “Vivienne also feels you must witness our happiness.” I laughed once. That second part was the real message. “Fine.” I took out my phone to make notes. “I will confirm the details with you at headquarters tomorrow. If there is nothing else, may I go?” Vivienne had only just left. He would not need me to stay the night. A mistress, after all, exists only to serve one particular kind of need. He narrowed his eyes. “You are not upset?” “Does Alpha Voss want me to be?” He said nothing. He stubbed out the cigarette, crossed to me, and caught my jaw between his fingers. “Sera. You have changed a great deal lately.” “Changed into something,” he tightened his grip two degrees, “that I find quite irritating.” I kept my eyes down. “Tell me what you would prefer. I can adapt.” What had drawn him to me, once, was exactly this: I had been close enough to reach for him every single day, and I never had. He had called it discipline then. Now he called it irritating. The one who had changed was never me. “Never mind.” He stared into my eyes for a long moment, then released me. “Go.” I turned to leave. He pulled me back from behind, arms wrapping around me. His chin came down on my shoulder. His voice was low. “Do you know why I would not let you go?” He meant the agreement. The one that kept me tethered. I did not know either. I had believed that without feeling, a clean ending was still possible. “Because you are too easy. You never put me in an impossible position. You never cause scenes, never ask where I have been or who I was with. Not like her, watching my every move.” His arms tightened. “Sometimes I think, if only you had come from a stronger pack line, I would not need to bond with anyone else.” I almost laughed. In the end, he was blaming my bloodline. He had forgotten that he was the one who had first reached for a woman with no powerful pack behind her. “Alpha Voss.” I gently pried his hands away. “What color do you want me to wear to the engagement party? I will prepare in advance.” His hands hung in the air between us. He was perhaps too drained from the evening to keep pulling. He let me go. Outside the hotel doors, I found that my palm had been cut by my own nails.

On the day of the engagement party, I stood at the hall entrance managing the guest registry. A glass of champagne in my hand. My eyes would not leave the pair that everyone was congratulating. In a daze, I thought back to the day I signed the Mistress Agreement. I had quietly slipped a pregnancy report into the study drawer. I had told myself that when he found it, the next step would follow naturally. A formal bond. A real future. So when he produced that document, my heart had leapt. I had been certain it was a mate registration form. High-pack alliances came with paperwork. Signing made sense. I had been willing. Because all I had ever wanted was him, not the status that came with him. I had not imagined that six years would close into a joke, and I would end up as a mistress who could not see the light of day. Near the end of the reception, Vivienne stopped in front of me with a wide smile. “You must be Sera?” I nodded, caught off guard for just a moment. “Caelum has mentioned you. He said you have been with the pack operations team for years. Very capable.” I said something polite in return. “By the way, I will not be letting him stay in that apartment from next week. We have already found our new home.” “I imagine it is not very convenient for you there anyway. You might want to start looking for somewhere else soon.” My fingertips went sharp with cold. The heat behind my eyes almost broke through. I bent over the registry instead and swallowed it back. “Of course. I will make arrangements.” Before the words had fully settled, she reached across and lifted the champagne glass right out of my hand. I had not processed it yet when she screamed. “You threw that on me!” A slap caught me across the face before I could move. When I looked up, I saw her standing there, soaking wet, eyes red, every line of her face performing injury. Half the hall had turned to look. Caelum appeared with his brow drawn. “What happened?” Vivienne pressed herself against him at once. “Caelum, I only told her nicely that you would not be at the apartment anymore and asked her to find somewhere else to go. And she threw champagne at me.” “Sera.” “I did not.” My voice had gone rough. “Are you saying she poured it on herself and then slapped you?” His logic was airtight. No one was going to believe a future Luna staged a scene at her own engagement party. And he had already decided I was defending territory that was not mine. “Apologize,” he said, cold and flat. I did not move. “Do not make this harder than it needs to be. You know what today is. If this gets bigger, it will only hurt you. Apologize, or do not come to headquarters tomorrow.” I looked at him. Six years ago, he had pulled me in off the street and told me no one would dare touch me while he was there. Six years later, he had the person who touched me pressed to his side, and he was asking me to apologize. Something freshly healed inside my chest tore open again. I lowered my head. “I am sorry. I should not have done that.” Caelum was not fully satisfied. But he turned and dispersed the crowd. “Nothing to see here. Everyone, go back.” Before he walked away, he looked at me one last time. “Go clean yourself up. Do not stand here embarrassing everyone.” I touched the swollen side of my face and the loose knot of hair the slap had scattered. He was right. What an embarrassment. But the most embarrassing thing of all was that the man I had loved for six years had convicted me in front of everyone without asking a single question. I picked up my phone and typed a message: I want to move up the timeline. Then I laughed through the tears I still had not let fall.

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“Mr. Vance has asked to buy this dress for his fiancée —Mrs. Vance.” The staff said to me. Mrs. Vance? So who am I? And behind me, a young woman was wearing the wedding dress I’d designed for myself. ********** I was checking my custom-made wedding dress at the bridal boutique. I’m a fashion designer. I spent six months making my own gown, for a perfect, once-in-a-lifetime wedding. And a young and pretty girl walked in. The staff told me, “She’s rejected ninety-nine dresses in the last three months.” “And she has a husband funding every single tantrum.” I saw the staff scramble to flatter her. “This one.” She turned around and saw my dress. The manager told her that it is personalized customization with an apologetic smile. She pulled out her phone and made a call. Three minutes later, the manager came back to me and said in a low voice. “Ms. Valerie, her husband already acquired the building’s retail rights. He asked to buy her the wedding dress.” I didn’t agree. How could I possibly agree to that? One of the staff leaned close and murmured, “Valerie, you might want to think this over. She’s Mrs. Vance. Stella Vance. She is the fiancée of the Vance Group’s CEO. It’s not worth the friction.” Mrs. Vance? So who am I? I didn’t answer. I turned to the manager instead. “Get me the contract, please.” She handed over the folder. I flipped straight to the last page. There it was. A signature I would recognize anywhere. Bold, slanted, unmistakable. Dominic Vance. My blood ran cold. My fiancé, Dominic, was cheating on me. My knees buckled. I grabbed a glass of water and forced the panic down my throat. I looked up at the girl. She was watching me with a small and satisfied smile. “You’re a designer, right?” she said pleasantly. “Imagine the exposure when people see your dress at my wedding. Could really put your name on the map.” I stared at her for a long moment. Then I said yes. Stella clapped her hands and headed toward the private dressing room. I offered to do her makeup. “My husband doesn’t let me share a vanity with other clients,” she said, waving me in. “Everything in here—he had it all bought fresh. Brand new, just for me.” I smiled. “He spoils you.” She pouted, but her eyes were glowing. “He could at least show up when I try on dresses. I’ve been here so many times, and today he’s too busy.” The staff laughed flatterly. “Mr. Vance has come almost every single time. Today must be a real emergency.” Stella’s pout melted into a grin. “Fine. He would be here if he could.” I picked up the brush and started on her brows. She glanced at me in the mirror. “Hey—was that dress supposed to be a gift for someone? Why did the staff say it wasn’t for sale?” I paused. Then I smiled. “I designed it for myself.” Stella blinked. For a moment she actually looked embarrassed. “Oh. I’m so sorry.” She said sorry. But she didn’t look like she was letting go of the dress. She caught my eye in the mirror and gave me a little cute wink. “It’s just—you know how picky I am. I’ve turned down nearly a hundred dresses. This is the first one I’ve loved.” She tilted her head. “You’re so talented. I’m sure you can design yourself something even better. I believe in you!” I laughed softly and shook my head. “It’s fine,” I said. “I’m not in a rush.”

When I was working on her brows, Stella’s phone rang. She put it on speaker. A familiar male voice filled the room. “Hey, baby. How’s the fitting going?” The voice was full of affection. He used to talk to me like that. Back when we first moved in together, he’d wake up before me every morning just to whisper in my ear. Valerie. Time to get up. When I ignored him, he’d blow air on my face and tickle me until we were both laughing. I turned my head away. I was afraid Stella would see my tears. Stella pouted at the phone. “Still in the middle of it. Baby, you’re really missing out. The dress is unbelievable. I wish you were here.” “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle. “Board meeting this afternoon. I can’t get out of it. Next time, I promise.” “No!” Stella whined. “I finally found one I love. You can’t miss this.” A short pause. Then he sighed and gave in. “Alright. I’ll come as soon as it wraps. Okay?” Stella broke into a grin. Last night I told Dominic I was picking up the finished dress today. I asked him to come with me more than once. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gave me four words. “Don’t be so needy.” Then he walked back to the bedroom and closed the door. And now Stella bats her eyes once, and he folds completely. His schedule wasn’t the problem. I was. Stella giggled into the phone a little longer, then hung up. The staff member beside her sighed dreamily. “Mrs. Vance, the way Mr. Vance treats you—it’s honestly unfair to the rest of us.” Stella smiled, satisfied. Then she looked at me. “What about you? When’s your wedding?” Before I could answer, another designer walked in carrying accessories. She’d never liked me much. She laughed. “Her wedding? We’ve been watching her design and custom-fit this dress for months. Not once has anyone seen this so-called fiancé of hers. Honestly, who knows if he even exists.” She turned to Stella, all warmth. “Not everyone’s as blessed as you, Mrs. Vance. Mr. Vance runs a whole empire and still finds time for all of this.” I looked down and said nothing. Because she was right. Dominic and I hadn’t even set a date. Every step of this had been me—just me, planning a wedding for two people. Stella frowned. She seemed genuinely annoyed on my behalf. “Your fiancé doesn’t help at all? You’re doing everything alone? That’s not okay. You really need to think hard about whether this is the right person.” She meant well. But the satisfaction underneath it was hard to miss. I smiled anyway. “You’re right. I’ll think it over.” I turned it back on her. “What about you? Have you set a date?” Stella thought for a moment. “Sometime in the fall. We already handled the legal part. He took care of everything—I just got to pick what I liked.” I stilled. “You already made it official?” “May 1st.” She stuck out her tongue a little, almost shy. “I love that day. He had a flight booked and I refused to let him cancel it—I mean, go. ” She laughed at herself. “Am I too childish? My mom always says I never grew up. But Dominic says that’s exactly what he loves. ” “He wants to spoil me, protect me. He says I should spend my whole life without a single worry.” She smiled. Bright and easy and completely unbothered. My chest went cold. May 1st. My birthday. I’d booked his favorite restaurant and waited until midnight. He texted at eleven: running late, don’t wait up. I didn’t dig into it. I told myself it was work. But I never expected on my birthday, he was with her. Making it official and promising her a lifetime. I’ve been with Dominic since I was eighteen. Ten years. In the beginning, he couldn’t wait to marry me. He used to joke that he was counting down the days until I was old enough to make it legal. And then he stopped mentioning it altogether. Now I know why. He’d already made his promise to someone else. Once, under a sky full of fireworks, he got down on one knee. He slid the ring onto my finger and said he would love me, protect me, and never let anything hurt me. Now he has made the same vow to another woman.

Stella stepped into the fitting room to change. I went in to help her tie the back and she suddenly lowered her voice. “Could you let the waist out a little?” I looked at her in the mirror. “It fits you perfectly. Letting it out would change the whole silhouette.” Stella hesitated. Then she leaned in close. “I’m pregnant. Dominic doesn’t know yet. I want to surprise him at the wedding.” She met my eyes in the mirror. “By then I’ll be showing. If we don’t adjust it now, it’ll be too late. Please don’t say anything.” I stood there for a long moment, not moving. She was pregnant. Dominic had gotten another woman pregnant. Stella stroked her stomach with a quiet, happy smile. That smile hurt to look at. I mumbled something and slipped out of the fitting room. I leaned against the door. Two years ago, I was pregnant too. Dominic said it was bad timing. Vance Group was restructuring. He said a baby right now would complicate everything. So I ended it. Because he asked me to. And now Stella was carrying his child. I caught myself thinking something ugly: maybe when he finds out, he won’t be so happy about it either. Then Stella’s phone lit up on the vanity table. Dominic’s name on the screen. “Can you grab that?” Stella called from inside. “I can’t move in this thing.” I hesitated. And then something dark rose up in me. What would he do if he heard my voice? I picked up the phone. “Hello?” I’d been crying earlier. My voice came out low and rough. Dominic didn’t recognize me at all. “Who’s this?” I almost laughed. Fine. I’d play it out. “I’m one of the bridal boutique staff. Ms. Stella stepped into the fitting room. Is there anything I need to tell her?” He didn’t suspect a thing. “Nothing, just letting her know I’m sending afternoon tea over. Make sure she eats something. I don’t want her feeling faint.” His voice was so careful and attentive. “Is Ms. Stella not feeling well? Is there anything we should watch out for?” A brief pause. “She’s pregnant. She thinks I don’t know. I don’t want to spoil her surprise. Just keep an eye on her. That’s all.” I hung up. I sank down slowly until I was crouching on the floor, both hands over my face. Tears slipped through my fingers. So he did want children. Just not mine. Valerie. All those years. And you never saw it. Stella came out of the fitting room. She was breathtaking. My dress was made to my measurements. And it fit her like it was always meant for her. Just like the man I had chosen. We had the same taste. The staff crowded around her, gushing. Stella loved every second of it. She lifted the hem, did a slow spin, then snapped a photo and sent it to Dominic. Baby, look at this dress. Good eye, right? His reply came back almost instantly. Beautiful. Wear it home for me. The staff smiled. “Oh my god, Mrs. Vance—you two are so cute. I can’t stand it!” Stella went a little pink and didn’t reply.

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For two years, I let men use my body as a punching bag in an underground fight club. When I finally scraped together enough for Finn’s surgery, Landon handed it to his childhood friend for the fifth time. Five hundred thousand dollars. Not a cent more, not a cent less. This time, though, my internal injuries were too severe. There was no clawing back another five hundred thousand. I showed up at her place with my gloves still in hand and backed her into a corner. “Give back my son’s surgery money. He’s in end-stage heart failure. That money is the only thing keeping him alive.” Landon sighed, then told her to return it. The day Finn was rushed into the ER, the payment terminal blinked: insufficient funds. At the same moment, Sienna updated her social media. “Nearly got myself attacked by a crazy woman today. Thank god I had a $500K alexandrite diamond necklace to make me feel better. Real ones always come through for you!” I called Landon until my phone burned hot. He finally picked up. “Mia, you really scared Sienna the other day. She had a cardiac episode. I need to be here with her.” “I’m a doctor. I know Finn’s condition better than anyone. He’s not as fragile as you think. He can hold on a little longer.” “Once my research grant comes through, I’ll schedule the surgery immediately.” I hung up. With the last few dollars in my account, I reserved a double burial plot. Cradling Finn’s body as it slowly went cold, I sent Landon one final text. “Landon. I want a divorce.” … I had barely confirmed the burial plot when Landon called back. “Stop being dramatic, Mia. You scared Sienna so badly she had a cardiac episode — her situation is far more critical than Finn’s right now.” “Finn’s condition is chronic. A few more days won’t kill him.” “Once Sienna stabilizes, I’ll find the money and get him into surgery.” Critical. A diamond necklace bought with our son’s life — how critical could she really be? I kept seeing Finn’s face in those last moments. His small fingers closing around my sleeve: “Mommy, if Daddy comes… will it stop hurting?” “It’s okay if it still hurts. I just want to see him one more time before I fall asleep.” He never stopped waiting. My throat tightened. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” “Landon. In your heart, is Sienna more important than me and Finn?” Impatience crept into his voice. “Mia, Sienna and I have been friends for over two decades. And she got her heart condition because she stepped in front of a kidnapper to protect me when we were kids. I owe her. Can’t you understand that?” “I’m asking you to be a little compassionate.” From the background, Sienna’s voice filtered through, sharp and lazy all at once. “Your wife calling to start drama again? God, she’s so exhausting.” Landon’s tone softened immediately, like a different man entirely. “Yes, yes, you’re right. Don’t get worked up — your heart can’t take it, sweetheart.” Then a message from Sienna hit my phone. “Hey sis, I just overheard. Honestly? Landon does have money — but his research eats through everything. I’m the one who suggested he borrow from you.” “I had no idea he’d actually go through with it every single time lol. If you need it urgently, I’ll tell him to pay you back.” “What kind of man does that to his own wife? I’ll give him hell for you.” My tears hit the screen. Every time Landon got his bonus, Sienna would “borrow” it for her treatments. Landon always said he owed her — so he said yes, unconditionally, every single time. So when Finn got sick and there was nothing left, I went underground. I stood in a cage and let strangers beat me for money. A message popped up from the fight club manager. “Mia. Big client tonight. Heavy hands, but he pays triple. One hour and you’re looking at Finn’s full surgery fee. Come now if you’re in.” Any other night, even with my organs already hemorrhaging from the inside, I would have been the first to say yes. Finn’s cold seeped into my bones through my arms. “I’m not coming.” “I’m never coming back.” I didn’t look at the string of question marks the manager sent after that. The morgue was cold. Finn had always hated the cold. He would have been so miserable. I forced a smile at the passing nurse. “Could I borrow a blanket? My son gets cold easily.” The nurse looked like she might cry herself. She came back with one still in its packaging. “Take it. Let the little one go comfortably.” I thanked her quietly. She waved it off. “Don’t thank me — thank Dr. Graves from our cardiac ward. He has a friend admitted here right now, and he’s been so generous to the staff to make sure she’s well looked after. These blankets run about two thousand a piece.” “The way he spoils her? I’d guess girlfriend.” I stood very still. I thought of the weeks I had spent on my knees begging doctors to help Finn, of how we couldn’t afford the surgery no matter who I asked. My tears came without warning. “Thank you, Dr. Graves.” I wrapped Finn with trembling hands. The nurse hesitated. “Where’s his father? He should be here. If he could just help pull together the money, it never would have come to this.” I pulled a crooked smile. “His father… isn’t here anymore.” The nurse opened her mouth and closed it again, not knowing what to say. I was in the middle of filing the paperwork when I heard him — Landon, running through the corridor with Sienna in his arms, not watching where he was going. I had just stepped around the corner when his shoulder caught me full force and sent me into the wall. “Watch it!” My head cracked against the plaster. Blood ran down my temple. Landon didn’t look back. He was already shouting down the hallway at the attending physician. “Dr. Smith — run a cardiac workup on her immediately.” I slid down the wall and stayed on the floor for a long time, the pain making it impossible to move. Eventually I heard footsteps — Sienna, pulling Landon back in my direction. “I told you you hit someone. Come and apologize. The doctor said I’m fine — I’m not some fragile little thing who falls apart at nothing.” She looked down. “Wait — Landon, the one you knocked over is your own wife.”

Landon’s face shifted — guilt crossing it for half a second before Sienna turned to me with a bright, cutting smile. “Mia, he barely grazed you. Did you fall on purpose? Are you this upset that I asked him to come with me?” She gave him a light nudge. “Go on. Go say sorry to her.” Landon’s hand, already extended to help me up, went still. He looked at me with a frown. “Yeah, Mia. I barely touched you. And you’re still going on about the five hundred thousand.” Something in my chest turned to ice. I braced against the wall and pulled myself upright on shaking legs. I stumbled — falling toward Sienna. She stepped back. Pinched her nose. “God, what is that smell?” “Landon is a doctor with a reputation, Mia. Look at yourself.” Landon’s expression soured too. “Mia, you’re a mess. You smell. Is it too much to ask that you shower and get some rest?” After Finn died I had held him until his body began to change. The hatred in me boiled over. I wanted to scream it at him. “That’s your son’s smell.” A nurse walked by and lit up when she spotted Landon. “Dr. Graves, you’re on leave today — what brings you in?” Her eyes traveled curiously between the three of us before settling on me. “And this is?” For years, Landon had said doctors needed to be careful about public perception. That people would gossip if they knew he had a son and still spent this much time at Sienna’s side. So he had never told anyone at the hospital about Finn. About me. A flicker of panic crossed his face. “Oh, she’s — she’s a caregiver. For my friend.” I stood there with all the words I would never say jammed in my throat. Once the nurse moved on, Landon exhaled and reached for me. “Mia, I didn’t mean it. It’s just — I have a professional image to maintain here.” I laughed. It came out sharp. “An image.” Sienna clicked her tongue. “Mia, Landon is a respected physician. You show up looking like you crawled out of a dumpster and you want him to claim you? Give him a break.” Landon said nothing. He agreed by staying silent. I gripped my washed-out shirt in both fists and looked at the necklace blazing at Sienna’s throat. That necklace. Bought with my broken body. Bought with my son’s life. The rage came out of me before I could stop it. I swung. I never made contact. Sienna screamed before my fist came anywhere near her. “Landon — my chest — don’t let her hurt me!” The slap split my vision in half. Landon hit me so hard my knees buckled. Copper filled my mouth. He gathered Sienna against his chest. “Mia, do you have any idea how weak her heart is? And you try to attack her?” I pressed my hand over my bleeding nose and looked up at him. “Her heart is weak? And Finn’s wasn’t?” “I wish I’d hit her harder.” Sienna whimpered, clutching her chest harder. Landon’s face went to stone. His fingers closed in my hair. “Don’t you dare.” My scalp tore. I felt something wet. My phone slipped from my pocket. Landon’s eyes caught the notification on the screen — the cemetery’s deposit confirmation. His brow creased. He shoved me back against the wall. “What is this, Mia? You’re so desperate to make me feel guilty you’re dragging our son into it too?”

He carried Sienna away toward her room. “Tell Finn to wait for me. I’ll perform the surgery myself. He’ll be fine.” “Once this is settled I’ll spend real time with both of you.” I thought about Finn over those two years — how he would always smile through the pain to reassure me. “Mom, don’t worry. Dad is the best cardiac surgeon there is. He’s going to fix me.” He trusted Landon completely. And Landon never came. I doubled over and vomited blood. It tasted like everything. I bought a handful of painkillers at a pharmacy, finished Finn’s paperwork, and scraped together enough for the burial plot deposit. The day the balance came due, my card was declined again. I ran it three times. “Please — try once more. This can’t be right. I just put money in.” The attendant only shook his head. I opened my banking app. The balance read zero. The screen felt like a blade. I called Landon immediately. “Landon. If you need money for Sienna’s treatment, use your own. Give mine back.” “My money is all tied up in research. When the grant posts, you’ll get it back. After the way you went after Sienna yesterday and put her back in the hospital, you have a lot of nerve asking for anything.” My eyes burned. “Give me back what’s mine.” “Landon, you took that money. Doesn’t that keep you up at night?” “You want to talk about money? Your old boss has been calling me. He said there was a temporary shift he offered you that you turned down. He wanted me to talk you into taking it. I was going to tell you no. I didn’t want you overworking yourself.” “But since you’re this desperate — why did you say no?” I went cold. The fight club manager had contacted him. Everything inside me lurched. “Landon. If I go back to that job, it will kill me.” I had never told him what I actually did. I’d let him believe it was a second shift somewhere, anything but the truth. What I couldn’t understand was how he could pour himself into caring for someone else’s life and feel nothing for ours. “Please. I’m begging you. I can’t go back. Give me back the money.” A long pause. Then, begrudgingly: “Fine. I’ll transfer it.” I hung up with something close to relief. Maybe Finn could have his burial plot. I waited all day. Into the evening. Nothing came. Instead, the fight club manager texted. “Where are you? Your husband said you agreed to come back. He already collected 30% from tonight’s client. If you don’t show, that’s on you — and I will make it on you.” The hospital’s automated system also started pinging. “Ms. Calloway, the morgue has holding limits. Please complete your son’s arrangements as soon as possible.” The sky outside burned red. I dialed the fight club manager. “I’ll be there.” I asked how much I’d clear after the client’s deposit was deducted. He gave me a number. It wasn’t enough for the double plot. It was only enough for a single. I pulled the corner of my mouth up. Then I’d use what was left of this body to buy Finn the ground he deserved.

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The night I officially took over my family’s New Orleans operations was the wildest night of Mardi Gras. I stepped out of a formal dinner. A mob of drunk party idiots surrounded me. They blasted super soakers straight at my chest. The one shooting hardest was my fiancé’s childhood sweetheart. Daisy-Mae Thorne. My custom gown soaked through in seconds. The fabric clung to my body like a second skin. Humiliating. I stepped forward and smacked the water gun out of Daisy-Mae’s hands. My voice stayed level. “There’s a limit to partying.” I didn’t finish the sentence. Daisy-Mae’s face was already drenched in tears. “Avalon, don’t be such a killjoy. It’s Mardi Gras. Why do you always have a problem with me?” Preston Vance’s expression shifted instantly. He pulled Daisy-Mae against his chest. Shot a look behind him. In that moment, a dozen super soakers aimed at me. They opened fire. A dozen high-pressure streams hit my chest and stomach. The water blasted through the fabric. The lace outline of my bra was visible to everyone. *** The crowd of onlookers swelled. My eyes burned red. I screamed. “Preston, I’m calling the cops!” “Call the cops?!” Preston snorted. His grin got wider. “Avalon, get this through your head. This is New Orleans. Not New York. This is my territory. God himself could come down from heaven and he’d still have to answer to me.” A cold smile pulled at my lips. I reached slowly into my pocket and pulled out the encrypted satellite phone. I dialed the only number saved on it. “Notify the New Orleans grid control center. Cut all power to Bourbon Street, Star Sea Square immediately. Lock down the block. Send in the Cleaners.” The words barely left my mouth. The crowd erupted in deafening laughter. Preston lunged forward and snatched the phone from my hand. He was bent over laughing. He waved it around for everyone to see. “Avalon, did the water fry your goddamn brain?!” He shouted at the crowd at the top of his lungs. “Hey, everyone get a load of this! She’s holding some no-brand piece of junk and she’s gonna lock down the block! You believe this? I’m dying over here!” A louder wave of laughter crashed through the square. Preston caught his breath. The amusement in his eyes sharpened. He grabbed my chin and squeezed. “Avalon, save that New York act for someone who’s scared of it.” Daisy-Mae stepped forward, pressing herself against Preston’s chest. Triumph was written all over her face. “She’s right, Avalon. This is Preston’s territory. Nobody here buys your New York attitude.” “Baby, no point wasting words on someone like her.” Preston pulled Daisy-Mae tight. He pointed at me. His voice turned sharp. “Apologize to Daisy-Mae.” “Or you won’t be leaving here in one piece.” Dozens of men aimed their super soakers at me. Their eyes crawled over the curves of my body, clearly visible through the soaked fabric. Their faces wore lewd, hungry smiles. I scrambled to grab the shawl I’d dropped. Cover myself. Preston ripped it out of my hands. He locked his grip around my wrist. A brutal squeeze. He shoved me down. I hit the ground on my knees at Daisy-Mae’s feet. “Avalon, are you deaf?! I said apologize to Daisy-Mae!” Daisy-Mae stepped forward. Her stiletto heel came down on my hand. She ground it in with vicious pressure. But her voice came out sweet and wounded. “Avalon, I really was just being nice. Getting wet is the whole point of Mardi Gras. Why can’t you just take it in good fun? Preston, is she mad at me? I was only playing around. Before Preston really loses his temper, you really should just apologize.” The crowd pressed closer. Pointing. Commenting on my exposed body.

“Hey, check out the body on that one. Not bad.” “Curves in all the right places. Definitely got something going on.” “Look at that outfit. She was asking for trouble.” The whispers fed the smug satisfaction in Preston’s eyes. A cold wave of disgust washed through me. I had turned down every arranged match my family proposed. I stuck with Preston for eight years. Eight years. Three times the Vance family business faced collapse. Three times I begged my father to pull strings from New York to save them. Earlier this year, Preston proposed. I thought I had finally found my happy ending. The day after he put the ring on my finger, his childhood sweetheart Daisy-Mae came back from Europe. Everything changed the moment she returned. The reason I agreed to take over the family’s New Orleans operations was to give Preston one last chance. Give us one last chance. I didn’t need to anymore. “Avalon, if you don’t apologize soon, I’m going to be really sad.” Daisy-Mae pouted. Tears rolled down her face like pearls falling off a broken string. I swallowed the nausea clawing up my throat. I surged to my feet. I swung my arm. My palm cracked across Daisy-Mae’s face. I grabbed the super soaker from the man next to me. Aimed at Daisy-Mae’s chest. Pulled the trigger. Instantly, her thin dress was drenched in filthy water. Her hot pink bra was on full display. “Don’t run!” I kept the water gun trained on her. Didn’t let up for a second. “It’s Mardi Gras! Getting soaked is the whole point! Come on!” Daisy-Mae clutched her chest. She shrieked the whole way as she scrambled into Preston’s arms. My handprint was still bright red on her face. I ripped the shawl out of Preston’s grip and wrapped it around myself. I shot him a cold look. Turned to walk away. I barely took a step. A boot slammed into my lower back. Preston. A searing, bone-deep pain spread from my spine through my entire body. But it didn’t come close to the ache in my chest. Three years ago, Preston was kidnapped by a rival. I led my family’s elite team from New York to extract him. A knife stabbed straight through my lower back. Eighteen hours of surgery. Thirty-six titanium screws to barely hold it together. When I was discharged, Preston knelt in front of me. He swore he would spend the rest of his life repaying what I did for him. For three years, every rainy day left me paralyzed with pain. Preston canceled every meeting, every obligation. He stayed by my side and applied heat packs without stopping. And now, for another woman, he aimed his boot directly at that same spot. “Avalon, I told you. Apologize. Or you don’t walk away from here in one piece.” Preston’s cold voice snapped me back to reality. He pressed his foot down on my lower back. A sickening crack. An unbearable, numbing ache shot through my spine. A strangled sound escaped my throat. I knew something in my vertebrae had snapped. The doctors warned me after surgery. Another serious injury to my lower back, and I would be paralyzed. Not even a miracle could fix it. The pain turned my vision black at the edges. My father’s warning echoed in my ears. I gritted my teeth and forced the words out. “Preston. Stop now. And I’ll—” “What’ll you do?” He cut me off. Nothing but vicious cruelty in his eyes. “Beg? Too late.” “Avalon, these eight years, I’ve spoiled you rotten. Today, I’m going to teach you your place.” He glanced behind him. Dozens of water guns aimed at me in perfect unison. Instantly, the dense water streams hit me like whips.

The force slammed me to the ground. Preston took Daisy-Mae’s hand. He guided her water gun. Pointed it directly at my face. Water flooded my nostrils, my ear canals. A sharp, burning pain exploded through my head. I tried to get up. The pressure blurred my vision. I couldn’t even lift my head. I just lay there, letting the freezing water pound against my body. Every hit came with the agonizing pressure of those high-powered streams. Daisy-Mae watched me flailing on the ground. High, piercing laughter spilled out of her. Preston only stopped when he saw Daisy-Mae was satisfied. He wrapped an arm around Daisy-Mae’s waist. His voice dripped with tenderness. “Baby, you happy now?” “Preston, everything you do makes me happy.” Daisy-Mae’s coy reply pulled a smug laugh from Preston’s throat. But the laugh barely hit the air. Daisy-Mae’s expression shifted. Her voice went soft and wounded. “But…” Preston’s smile vanished instantly. His brow creased. “But what, baby?” “Daisy-Mae, you’re with me. Whatever you want, just say it.” Daisy-Mae took Preston’s hand from her waist. She stroked the back of it, slow and deliberate. Her voice turned sickly sweet. “My dress got all wet because of Avalon. I’m so cold.” “No problem. I’ll take you to get a new one right now.” “No.” Daisy-Mae pointed at me. She tugged on Preston’s arm, pouting up at him with pleading eyes. “I want the one Avalon’s wearing. Right now.” “Absolutely not.” My sharp voice cut through her whining. This dress was the sacred heirloom of the Romano family. My family valued this dress as much as our family honor. This specific gown had been altered to fit my body by my mother’s own hands. Stitch by stitch before she died. My father had kept it safe for twenty years. He waited for the day I would take over the New Orleans operations. This was that day. I wrapped my arms around myself. I stumbled to my feet. The cold, wet fabric against my skin made me shiver uncontrollably. Preston glanced in my direction. Something unreadable flickered through his eyes. A few seconds of silence. He pulled Daisy-Mae into his arms. His voice dropped low. “Baby, that dress isn’t even special. The style is outdated. And it’s soaked in dirty water. You’ll catch a cold if you put it on. Let’s not take that one. I’ll buy you a new one.” “No!” Daisy-Mae tore herself out of his arms. Tears flooded her face instantly. Her voice pitched into a tearful tantrum. “I want Avalon’s dress! If you won’t get it for me, is it because you’re protecting her? Is she more important to you than me?! Oh my God, Preston, you’re still in love with her, aren’t you?!” “No. I just don’t think it looks good. And it’s wet.” “I think it’s beautiful! I don’t care if it’s wet!” Preston froze for two seconds. “You definitely still have feelings for her.” “I don’t!” Preston’s denial came fast and sharp. He spun around to face me. His voice went ice cold. “Avalon, you heard her. Daisy-Mae likes your dress. Take it off and give it to her.” I swept my gaze over the dense crowd of men surrounding us. I stared at Preston in disbelief. I lowered my voice. “Preston. You want me to undress. Here.” “Take it off!” The moment I spoke, the mob erupted. They tightened the circle around me. Their eyes devoured every visible curve of my body. “Take it off! Preston told you to strip! What are you waiting for?!” “Preston, thanks man! Without you, we wouldn’t be getting this show!”

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Declan Vance has worked in Chicago for eight years. Every time he drives back to our home in Naperville from downtown, I have dinner ready and waiting. Even though I know he always stops to see his “first love”—Sienna Miller—before coming home to me. Every time he visits her, he promises me some kind of compensation. It became a routine. A transaction. Until last month, when he gave the company’s only transfer slot for the Chicago headquarters to Sienna. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I just calmly presented him with my 100th request. Seeing my rare “understanding” and “generosity,” he signed the document without hesitation. He even promised to take me to see a Broadway tour as a bonus. But he didn’t know what he was signing. Sandwiched inside that file was our divorce application. When you save up enough disappointment, it’s time to leave. Chicago, November. The sun was setting, casting a lead-gray shimmer over Lake Michigan outside the window. The steak on the dining table had gone cold hours ago. This was the sixth time I’d taken it to the microwave to reheat it. Six o’clock. Seven o’clock. Eight o’clock. The clock hands spun round and round, but Declan still hadn’t returned. Finally, the phone rang. “Elena.” Declan’s voice sounded tired, but mostly entitled. “I’m not coming back for dinner tonight. There’s an issue with Sienna’s transfer paperwork. I need to help her handle it.” My grip on the phone tightened. Today was our eighth wedding anniversary. But clearly, he forgot. Or rather, he remembered, but he just didn’t care. “The slot has already been submitted,” he continued, his tone like he was reporting to a subordinate. “Her family really needs her back in Chicago to take care of her parents. Whatever compensation you want, just tell Marcus.” This wasn’t a discussion. It was a notification. To him, my feelings never mattered. “Okay,” I said. My voice was terrifyingly calm. Declan paused, seemingly surprised by how agreeable I was. “So… I’ll be back late. You go to sleep first.” After hanging up, I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at my reflection. Eight years. For eight years, I forgave, I compromised, and I waited. And what did I get? Broken promises, constant absences, and him choosing someone else—always choosing her. The phone rang again. This time it was Declan’s assistant, Marcus. “Elena, I’m so sorry,” Marcus said, his voice full of apology. “Declan asked me to pass on a message. He said you can raise the ‘price’ for the compensation this time. He’ll agree to anything.” I was silent for a moment. “No need to trouble yourself, Marcus. I’ll talk to him myself this time.” “Really? That’s great. Declan will be relieved—” I hung up. I walked to the study, opened the safe, and took out the manila envelope. Inside was a property transfer agreement regarding Declan’s grandfather’s abandoned auto repair shop. And, clipped to the last few pages— Joint Petition for Dissolution of Marriage Circuit Court of Cook County, Illinois The divorce papers. I opened the notes app on my phone and looked at the list I had maintained for eight years: The Compensation List Thanksgiving 2017: He went to Sienna’s parents’ house, leaving me alone—Tiffany bracelet. Valentine’s Day 2018: Cancelled dinner to take Sienna to the doctor—Weekend spa trip. My 30th Birthday 2019: He “forgot”—Dinner the next day. 2020 Pandemic: I had a fever at home, he went to deliver food to Sienna—Apology + Cartier bracelet. … November 2025: The only Chicago HQ transfer slot given to Sienna—TBD. Tomorrow, I will ask for the 100th compensation. Then, this eight-year farce can finally end.

The next afternoon, I put on that emerald green cashmere coat—the one Declan said made me look too aggressive. Good. Today, I intend to be aggressive. The offices of Vance & Associates were in the Loop, on the 27th floor of a glass-walled skyscraper. The receptionist looked stunned to see me. “Elena… you’re here to see Declan?” “Yes.” “He’s in a meeting—” “I know. I’ll let myself in.” I walked through the open workspace. A few employees recognized me, their eyes filled with subtle pity. The whole company probably knew the boss and his “first love” Sienna were transferring to Chicago together. As for the boss’s wife? Who cares. I knocked on Declan’s office door. “Come in.” Declan sat behind his massive mahogany desk, staring at three computer monitors. Hearing the door, he looked up. Seeing it was me, he frowned slightly. “Elena? Why are you here?” His tone held a trace of impatience. “Didn’t Marcus tell you? Whatever you want, just tell him and—” “I want the old auto repair shop,” I interrupted, placing the file on his desk. “The one your grandfather owned in Pilsen. It’s closed, but the land has value. I can redevelop it.” Declan paused, then sighed in relief. “That’s it?” He almost eagerly pulled the file toward him. “You should have said so. It’s just a run-down garage.” He didn’t even read it. He flipped directly to the last page, the signature block. “Anything else?” he asked while signing. “The dividends from the Lincoln Park project just came in. You want a new car? A new house? Jewelry? Just tell Marcus—” “No need.” I took the signed document back and carefully placed it in my bag. Declan looked to be in a good mood, probably thinking this “crisis” had been easily resolved. “Seriously, Elena,” he leaned back in his chair, his tone bordering on lecturing. “The things you’ve received in these eight years are more than most people get in a lifetime. You should be grateful.” “I am grateful,” I smiled. “Alright, I have a conference call.” He waved his hand. “You go home. I might be late tonight. Sienna still has some paperwork to finish.” “Okay.” I turned and left his office. I walked into the elevator and watched the doors slowly close, shutting out that space filled with hypocrisy. Declan didn’t know that from page 15 of the document he just signed, it was our divorce application. He also didn’t remember that when we got married, he gave me 99 gifts and said the 100th gift would be growing old together. Now, my 100th “gift” has arrived. It is freedom.

I sat in my car but didn’t start the engine immediately. Instead, I opened my phone and dialed a number. “Elena?” A gentle female voice answered. “It’s Vivian, HR from the Department of Commerce.” “Vivian, I’ve decided,” I said. “I accept the offer.” “That’s wonderful!” Vivian’s voice was full of excitement. “Public Affairs Specialist, GS-11, starting salary $75,000. When can you start?” “Is two weeks okay?” “Perfect! I’ll email you the offer letter and onboarding documents immediately. Welcome to D.C., Elena!” I hung up and dialed my lawyer. “Harper, I got the papers.” “He signed them?” My lawyer, Harper, sounded surprised. “He really didn’t read the content?” “Not a single word.” Harper sighed on the other end. “Men.” “I’m taking them to the court now,” I said. “According to Illinois law, in 60 days—” “In 60 days, you will be legally single,” Harper said. “Elena, are you sure about the asset division? That house has at least $150,000 in equity. You deserve it.” “I don’t want it,” I said. “I just want a clean break.” “Alright, your choice,” Harper paused. “By the way, what if he finds out and causes trouble?” “In 60 days, I’ll be in D.C.,” I said. “He won’t be able to find me.” Back at the house in Naperville, I started packing. We lived in this four-bedroom colonial-style house for seven years. I planted the maple tree in the front yard. We painted the deck in the back together. I picked the backsplash in the kitchen. But none of that mattered anymore. I opened the closet and packed my clothes into boxes one by one. Those designer bags, the jewelry, the luxury goods he “compensated” me with— I didn’t want any of them. They could stay, or be donated. I only wanted the things that were truly mine: photos, books, my mother’s jewelry box, and my vintage Canon camera. Halfway through packing, my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram notification. Sienna had posted a photo: She and Declan standing in front of Gibson’s Bar & Steakhouse, with the Chicago River nightscape in the background. Sienna was wearing a black Hervé Léger bandage dress, linking arms with Declan, smiling brightly. Caption: “Celebrating new chapters with my favorite person 🥂✨ #ChicagoHereWeCome #DreamsComeTrue” I tapped on Declan’s profile. He had reposted Sienna’s story, adding: “Proud of you. Cheers to new beginnings.” The comments were full of congratulations: “You two are perfect together!” “When’s the wedding? 💍” “Power couple alert! 🔥” I stared at those comments for a long time, then calmly closed the app. New beginnings? Yes. For me, it’s a new beginning too. Only my new beginning doesn’t include Declan Vance.

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At the welcome party, a wolfsbane-laced arrow tore through my shoulder and buried itself close to my heart. Before the healers could act, the healer on duty looked between the two men who had rushed in and asked for next-of-kin to authorize emergency treatment. Both men shoved forward at the same time, nearly coming to blows. One was my mate. One was my brother. “I’ll authorize — but first you consents to the severance. Say the words in front of me, Elaine. Wren needs to hear the bond is broken before she’ll calm down.” “Authorize it or don’t. I’m authorizing.” “Elaine.” Cole’s voice dropped. “All you have to do is swear before the Pack that you won’t pursue the arrow incident. Wren panicked after you cornered her. It wasn’t intentional.” I laughed, though it cost me everything I had left. I used my last thread of strength to pull the healer close. “Don’t treat me.” Alive or not, it didn’t really matter anymore. …… The argument outside the infirmary doors wasn’t about who had the right to authorize as next of kin. It wasn’t about the fact that I was bleeding out and needed treatment immediately. Evan Holt and Cole Voss stood on either side of the gurney. Each had planted a hand on one of the wheels, stopping it from rolling forward. The infirmary doors were one step away, and yet they might as well have been across an ocean. I was never going to make it through. The arrow that had entered my right shoulder was no ordinary piece. It was wolfsbane-laced, barbed, fitted with five curved hooks along the shaft. It had driven clean through my body and come to rest near my left shoulder, dangerously close to my heart. The healer was sweating through his clothes. He knew better than anyone what every passing second was costing me. With wolfsbane flooding my bloodstream, my body’s ability to heal itself had been stripped away completely. He opened his mouth to intervene, and nearly got himself destroyed by both men at once. Miserable as it was, no matter how much his healer’s instincts screamed at him, there was nothing he could do. This was Holt Pack territory. No one dared act against the next Alpha’s will. Evan wanted me to speak the words of severance to dissolve our bond before the Pack’s law made it binding. Cole wanted me to swear a public oath of pardon, witnessed and irreversible. Both of them were waiting for me to open my mouth. Like a competition, each desperate to hear his demand from my lips first. So they could run back to Wren and claim their prize. Looking at the two of them looming over me, I smiled — weak, hollow. Then I asked them something that had nothing to do with any of it. “Tonight you threw a welcome party for Wren.” “Why did it have to be tonight?” It could have been a day earlier. A day later. To them, the number was meaningless either way. So why did it have to be tonight? The wolfsbane was spreading. Every word I spoke drove the hooks deeper. But I lied to myself anyway. One more gamble. Just one more. Maybe — maybe one of them still remembered what today was. Evan said nothing. Cole’s fist dropped to his side, clenching and unclenching. A million shades of impatience. “We wanted Wren to be happy. That’s all there is to it.” “Can you stop stalling? What’s the point?” The laughter from that party. The blinding lights. The way my mate and my brother had smiled — warm, indulgent, unguarded. That was what broke me. I had stormed the party. Torn apart every moment of it. Everyone called me feral. Evan and Cole had stepped in front of Wren, shielding her with their bodies. “If you want to lose control, do it somewhere else! Stop embarrassing yourself!” I looked straight at Wren’s triumphant face. “You planned this, didn’t you?” “How pathetic.” She turned to face them without missing a beat, her expression collapsing into grief. “Why — why would she say that to me.” “Is it wrong to want to be with the people I love?” Both men’s ears went faintly red at being claimed so openly. “I thought I finally had a family. Why does she still reject me — why!” After that, using her breakdown as cover, she raised the ceremonial bow and loosed the wolfsbane-laced arrow straight at me. Even as the poison tore through my shoulder, Evan pinned me down. He was afraid I’d lunge at her. Afraid I’d hurt the one he treasured. He looked at me, and his eyes were full of disappointment. “Why.” “When did you become this kind of person.” “Disgusting.” When they lifted me onto the gurney, Wren insisted on coming to see me. What she actually did was lean close to my ear and laugh, soft and quiet. “Elaine. Today was actually a celebration for you.” “One year since yours and Evan’s pup died.” “It’s a shame they’ve both forgotten. Only I remembered — you should be thanking me.” I couldn’t lift my hand anymore. So I used the last thing I had left and bit down on her ear. Evan nearly crushed my jaw getting me off her. And that became the justification they used now, pressing me to speak the words, for why I deserved everything that was happening to me.

It sounds almost funny, looking back. Wren Voss was my twin, the sister who had been seized by a rival Pack at birth and only recently returned to us. Our parents had spent half their lives tracking her down. They died still searching, and from their deathbeds they made Cole and me swear an oath. If we ever found her, we would spend the rest of our lives making it up to her. When we finally brought Wren home, that was exactly what I intended to do. She had suffered so much. I would give her everything I had. But she looked at me with hostility from the very first moment. In the beginning, Evan had seen it clearly enough. Every time I asked him to come with me to visit the Voss house, he’d drag his feet — sullen and reluctant, needing three rounds of coaxing before he’d agree. And when we got there and Wren was in the room, he wouldn’t spare her a glance. “Baby, I’m not going to waste a good mood on someone who doesn’t like my mate.” Cole caught in the middle, always awkward, always smoothing things over. Then somewhere along the way, it became — “Elaine, Cole and I are taking Wren on a run through the Cascades for a few days. You’ve been through that territory so many times — maybe just stay home this trip?” “You know how sensitive she is. She’s always felt like you don’t like her. You’ve been too hard on her — if you come, she won’t be able to enjoy herself.” “Cole feels the same way. He didn’t want to upset you, so he asked me to say it.” “I honestly don’t understand you. You got a sister back — that should be a good thing. But you act like you’d rather she’d never been found.” “If Wren hadn’t told me, I never would have believed you’d been treating her like that in private. Telling her to go back where she came from.” “I’m leaving. Think about what you’re doing.” When Evan walked out, his eyes were full of the same disappointment he always wore when he looked at me now. I held myself together anyway. I didn’t pull all four of them into a room and demand Wren explain exactly how I had supposedly mistreated her in private. Let it go. Don’t ruin the mood. Just endure it. It’ll pass. I never forgot the oath my parents had made me swear alone, separate from Cole’s. Wren had suffered. I had been given twenty years she hadn’t. I owed her. If I couldn’t give way for her, my parents would never forgive me. These were small things. What did it cost me to give way? Then one day, I walked in and found her in bed with Evan. The blood drained from my body. The room tilted. I was beyond rage. I slapped her across the face. What came back was one slap from Evan, and one from Cole, who had come running at the sound. Cole was the angriest. “Wren told me from the beginning — that you’d been tormenting her in secret, shutting her out, making sure she never got any of my attention. I didn’t believe her.” “Guess today you finally showed your real face.” “She survived twenty years of suffering and finally made it home, and the first thing she gets is a sister like you. Elaine — aren’t you afraid of what Mom and Dad would think if they could see this?” “If I could go back — I’d rather it had been you they took.” I stood there and couldn’t move. The tears wouldn’t stop. Evan was holding Wren, murmuring gently, calming her down. He glanced at my tears, his expression completely cold. “Stop crying.” “Wren isn’t crying. What gives you the right.” “The bond between us was never real — I see that now. We were placed together young and I mistook closeness for fate.” “If it had been you who was taken and came back — I still wouldn’t have bonded with someone like you.” “So don’t blame Wren.” “She did nothing wrong.” “I should be grateful I finally saw who you really are.” I watched Wren’s eyes find mine — that flicker of victory she couldn’t quite hide — and suddenly I understood. She didn’t love Evan. She didn’t love Cole. She just hated me. She hated that it hadn’t been me who was taken. She hated that I’d had twenty years she hadn’t. My pain was the only thing that made her happy. And she had the most powerful weapon in the world, their guilt. I had no right to fight back. So on that day, I lost my mate and my brother at the same time.

If tonight hadn’t happened, I probably would never have seen the two of them argue over me again. Though the old arguments were about who got to spend time with me. Now they were arguing over which oath they could press out of me first — so they could get back to Wren faster. Both their phones went off at the same time. “Evan. Cole.” Her voice came through the speaker, trembling. “I’m so scared. The blood got on me and I can’t get it off—” “I wanted to come with her when they put her on the gurney, but Elaine said the moment she recovered she’d kill me first. I don’t know what to do. I really didn’t mean to hurt her. I’m so worried about her—” She cried herself breathless, then caught herself — put on a show of pulling it together, just in time for the two men on the other end of the line who were already aching to shift and run back to her. “Sometimes I think Elaine is so lucky. Evan and Cole care about her so much. I don’t have anything. And whenever I get even a little — she finds a way to take it back.” “It’s okay. You don’t have to rush back. I’ll be fine on my own—” “I’m going to prepare a hundred arrows for when I accidentally hurt Elaine. She said when she recovers she wants every one of them loosed into me. If that’s what it takes to make her feel better, then that’s what I’ll do.” By the time the call ended, both Evan’s and Cole’s expressions had gone dark enough to draw blood. Cole was the first to break. Without any warning, he wrapped his hand around my throat. “Why. Just — why.” “Why can’t you just let Wren be?” “It was an accident. A hundred arrows — do you want her dead?” “Elaine Voss. How did I end up with a sister like you? How did our bloodline produce something like you?” The pressure shifted the arrow inside me. The hooks turned. The wolfsbane surged with every movement, coursing deeper through my veins. This was no ordinary ceremonial arrow. I choked up blood. Evan reached over and stopped Cole’s hand. “Calm down.” “Were you actually going to choke her out?” Something in my chest, something that had already gone cold and dark — flickered with a secret, shameful hope. Maybe. Maybe he still couldn’t let go of me. Maybe his wolf still recognized mine. “If you kill her now, she can’t speak the oaths.” “Were you planning to go back to Wren or not?” “If she dies here, Wren will blame herself. You want her carrying that for the rest of her life?” Once he’d talked Cole down, Evan finally spared me a glance. I was still coughing up blood. It had spread across half my face. The blood was clotting in my throat, and every cough dragged the hooks further, the wolfsbane burning through every attempt my body made to close the wound. Over and over. Relentless. He frowned. His voice went flat. “Enough.” “Stop performing.” “Is that a blood pack you’re hiding?” “I inspected those arrows with Wren myself. They’re thin. Flexible. She’s a kind girl — she specifically ordered them that way so no one would get seriously hurt.” “The impact drove it into your shoulder, that’s all. Your wolf should be able to handle a graze like that.” “Stop being so dramatic. We’re not idiots.”

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After returning from studying abroad, I applied for an internship at my father’s company without telling him—it was supposed to be a surprise. But on my very first day there, I found out that everyone in the company was calling an intern “Princess,” as if she were some kind of heir apparent. I stood there, dumbfounded, and even asked my colleagues again to confirm that the young woman in front of me was really my father’s publicly recognized daughter. But as an only child, I never had a sister! With a cold smirk, I sent my father a message. [Dad, I’m going to intern at our company after graduation.] As always, he replied instantly. [Sweetie, you don’t need to work. Just stay abroad and enjoy yourself after you graduate. I’ve earned more than enough for you to live a carefree life!] I immediately got in touch with a lawyer. [Please help my mother with the divorce proceedings.] *** Employees buzzed around Pearl Edith like bees around honey, flattering her incessantly. I pushed my way through the crowd until I reached her. The middle-aged woman, Norma Sidney, hovering protectively near Pearl, paled the moment she saw my face. “Ahem, everyone, back to your desks. No chatting during work hours.” The staff scattered in an instant, like mice fleeing from a cat, grumbling under their breath, “I thought having the ‘Princess’ here meant we’d get a break, but why’s the lady boss yelling at us?” Hearing them call that woman the “lady boss” only fueled my anger. My mother had no interest in business, and I’d been away for years. It seemed that a mistress had quietly entrenched herself in my family. Pearl looked annoyed. “Mom, didn’t you promise to help me make a show so I could take over Edith Group sooner? I haven’t even had enough time to show off yet.” I let out a laugh. “You want to take over my mother’s company?” Pearl shot me a glare. “Of course. This is my dad’s…” She didn’t get to finish before the so-called “boss lady” shoved her aside. “Shut up and get back to work!” Then, with a tense, sweat-beaded face, Norma growled through clenched teeth, “Shall we talk outside?” Seeing how rattled she was, I casually pulled out a chair and propped up my legs. “Why outside? Is it because you know you’ve done something disgraceful?” Norma gasped, nearly collapsing on the spot, her voice turning to a plea. “Th… This is the office area!” She grabbed my arm and dragged me out, shutting the door on the curious onlookers. That was when I noticed the nameplate on her chest. [Norma Sidney, General Manager’s Secretary] Leading me to an empty hallway, she finally let out a sigh of relief. “You must be Mr. Edith’s daughter, Ms. Daisy Edith. I’ve heard so much about you.” “It was my mistake,” she went on. “I was worried my daughter might be bullied during her internship, so I had her pose as Mr. Edith’s child. Please don’t expose me. Considering all those years I’ve worked here, please do me a favor.” Her expression was so full of maternal worry that it was almost convincing. But I didn’t buy a word of it. Around her neck hung the necklace I’d recently gifted to my mother. I reached out with one finger, hooked the deep green gem, and eyed her with mockery. “Seems your overstepping goes beyond just pretending, Ms. Sidney.” My mother had been raised like a princess, pampered and shielded from the world, with a passion only for collecting jewelry. This necklace had cost me a fortune. My father had promised to personally bring it back from abroad as a gift for her. Now, however, it appeared my gold-digging father had forgotten who my real mother was! I gave the necklace a sharp tug, leaving red marks on Norma’s neck. She instantly burst into tears, looking helpless and pitiful. “Ms. Edith, please, you’ve misunderstood. I’m just a poor mother looking out for her daughter.” I gave a cold sneer and yanked harder, snapping the chain, causing her to lose her balance and collapse. Without another glance, I contacted the lawyer. “I need you to handle my mother’s divorce case.” “Yes, you heard me. I’m calling the shots on this.”

I returned home with the lawyer, who had rushed straight over, and dropped the divorce papers in front of my mother. She stared at us, stunned. “Daisy, are you crazy? Your father and I get along fine. Why divorce?” “Did your dad cut your allowance? Oh, my dear, don’t throw a tantrum. Here, take Mom’s card.” As she pushed a black card across the table, tears spilled down my cheeks. I just couldn’t help it. My mother came from the richest family in Kingsport, raised in silk and shielded from every ugliness the world had to offer. How could I possibly tell her about the despicable things my father had done? Seeing my tears, she quickly moved to comfort me. As she bent down, a fake emerald necklace slipped from her blouse. Catching my stare, she offered a reassuring smile and tucked it away. “Your father said this was the gift you picked out for me. I adore it and keep it with me all the time.” At that moment, I felt a sudden sense of relief. My mother, who’d seen the finest treasures in the world, couldn’t possibly mistake a fake for the real thing. Dad had indeed swapped the gift I gave her. It was just that she thought I’d been tricked, so she still wore it close to her heart, happy and unsuspecting. But the image of Norma wearing the genuine necklace flashed in my mind. Without hesitation, I told her, “Mom, Dad is having an affair.” “And not just that, their daughter is even a year older than me.” My mother’s face drained of color. Her eyes reddened. “Daisy, do you realize what you’re saying?” Clenching my teeth, I slammed a stack of photos onto the table. She picked up the first. When she saw the necklace around Norma’s neck, she froze, then looked at me, pale and shaken. Taking a deep breath, she flipped to the next. As she focused on the second photo, I sighed. “That’s their daughter, Pearl.” “If I hadn’t shown up at the company unannounced today, I never would’ve known there was already a mistress and a so-called princess in our company.” My mother’s tears fell as she reached for another photo. I clenched my teeth. “This is the share transfer agreement. The stocks you entrusted to Dad, you let him manage them, but he handed them over to his lover and their illegitimate child long ago!” She stiffened again, but then her eyes landed on the next photo: a college acceptance letter. Seeing the seal of the medical university, she thought of something. She stopped crying, her expression darkening. I gave a bitter laugh. “That’s true. I was told I’d failed the SATs back then, which is why I had no choice but to study abroad.” “But after my recent investigation, I found out I never failed. It was Dean Edith, that traitor, who switched my scores with Pearl’s!”

As Mom took in my words, her grief slowly gave way to fury. She slammed the table. “That monster! How dare he do this to you!” I let out a breath, glad I’d guessed right. At her age, she might be able to forgive many things, but I could never tolerate a traitor as a father. If I only proved that he had cheated, Mom might be uncertain. But finding out he’d stolen my future was something she could never accept. Gently wiping away her tears, I shook my head. “We can’t change that already. Let’s focus on our situation now.” “Mom, you inherited billions and several public companies from Grandpa. I suspect that while you handed control over to Dad, he used the time to seize everything. That’s why he dares to act so brazenly, parading his mistress in our company!” I expected her to be nervous, but to my surprise, she just smiled knowingly. “Relax, these matters are tightly restricted by the prenuptial agreement. Everything I have is merely managed by Dean. If we divorce, he’ll have to return it all.” “In this case, let’s strip that unfaithful man of everything and leave him utterly humiliated!” Just then, my phone vibrated incessantly. I realized I hadn’t checked the employee notification group, which had already flooded with over 999 messages. [To celebrate the Princess’s successful entry into the company and the upcoming IPO, a banquet has been reserved at Maine Restaurant. Dear employees, all of you and your families are invited!] [Mr. Edith is incredibly generous. I heard the minimum spend per person in Maine is twenty thousand. We’re finally going to see what luxury looks like!] [All thanks to the Princess! Wishing her a long and prosperous life!] Pearl joined in, too, sending her best wishes to the group and stating her ambitions for the company’s future. Watching the cheerful chaos, I curled my lips into a cold smile. What a perfect chance. I’d been wondering how to handle the situation, and Dean had the gall to host a welcome banquet for his illegitimate daughter. Well, if that was the case, I absolutely had to attend the party. I tapped open Dean’s contact and sent him a private message. [Dad, I’m planning to return home today. Will you come to the airport with Mom to pick me up?] His reply came instantly. [Why are you coming back now?] [I mean, do you miss home so much?] [You know what, your mom is going to book a ticket and go keep you company. And I’ll visit after this busy period. Be a good girl and take pretty photos for your mom when she gets there.] I arched an eyebrow and held the phone up for my mother, urging her to take note of Dean’s hypocrisy. But Mom had already recovered from the initial shock. She sat down in front of her vanity, picked up her custom-made, high-end makeup brush, and motioned for me to come closer. “Come on, let’s get you dolled up.” “Time to meet your father and his little family together!”

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It happened again. Suggestive sounds once more came from the neighboring hut. The incessant clatter of heavy objects falling proved how intense it was. Covering my ears, I curled up under the animal skin blanket. After what felt like forever, a warm body settled beside me. The moment I felt a touch on my head, I quickly burrowed deeper into the blanket to avoid the approaching hand. “Don’t touch me.” Kane stiffened. Pursing his lips, he said with a cold voice, “Iris, you’re giving me the cold shoulder again.” “It was just to have an heir. Why do you make such a fuss?” “You are still my only true woman.” Clutching the blanket tightly, I refused to answer. Kane’s expression instantly became sombre. He ran a hand through his hair in irritation. “Once Liana gives birth next spring, I will send her away.” “In this way, the tribe will be satisfied.” “Don’t be stubborn. We’ll raise the child together, and he will only call you mother.” With that, Kane rose and walked out. Not wanting to face my coldness, he went back to Liana. Such scenes repeated daily since he had brought Liana home. I touched the tear stains on my face and sat up. The bonfire still radiated residual warmth, yet my body felt utterly cold. I had lived three years in this unfamiliar world. Backward and cold, it was scarcely fit for habitation. Had I not met Kane, I would not have missed the full moon and stayed here. As the tribe’s most valiant warrior, Kane offered me his sincerest vow. Pulling off the tiger-tooth necklace around my neck, I had the impulse to cry. However, he broke his vow and betrayed me. I remembered the day I chose to stay, he handed me this necklace. “Iris, thank you.” “Whether you have a fertility mark or not, I will have only you in this lifetime.” “Even without children, I accept that.” Yet after just three years, he brought home his father’s woman. The tribe had a custom. Sons could inherit their fathers’ women, except their biological mother. Liana Reeves, Kane’s stepmother, rightfully became his possession. Kane had to care for her. And Liana had to bear him offspring in return. I once believed Kane had severed ties with those tribal customs for me. But it seemed he hadn’t changed at all. I snorted derisively and tossed the necklace into the bonfire. In the flickering glow, the tiger-tooth gradually turned to powder, merging with the dark ash on the ground. I no longer wanted his tainted love. Liana’s soft and seductive laughter drifted faintly from the next hut. I rubbed the bone ring on my right hand, and then looked at a corner of the stone wall. There were marks drawn in animal blood only I could understand. The next full moon was almost there.

Staring at the drowned seedlings in the fields, I trembled with rage. Beside me, Liana, still holding a wooden bucket, flinched in fright. With tears welling in her eyes, she looked pitiable. “Iris, I didn’t mean to.” “I just wanted to help you. I didn’t know that just a little extra water would kill them all…” She began to sob. Her uncovered neck was dotted with swollen red kiss marks. I averted my gaze, feeling sad and angry. When I was about to open my mouth, I didn’t know what to say. The seedlings were already drowned. What use were more words? Slowly unclenching my fists, I stepped forward to see if any seedlings could be saved. Suddenly, Liana’s expression changed. She swayed and collapsed to the ground. Before I could react, I was shoved. My knee struck a stone, and the pain sent a cold sweat in an instant. Looking up, I saw Kane in hunting attire. He seemed just returned to the tribe. His eyes were frighteningly red. Wrapping his arms around crying Liana, he looked at me with reproach. “Iris, can’t you accept Liana?” My lips trembled, then I offered him a disappointed smile. “Did you see me do anything to her?” “Or do your eyes only see what you choose to believe?” Kane froze. He looked up at the flooded field and fell silent. “They were just seedlings. Liana meant well. Don’t make this a big deal.” “Just seedlings.” The thought drew a sarcastic laugh from me. With this sentence, he dismissed all my efforts. Before I came, the tribe subsisted only on hunting. Eating the meat without proper preparation led them to suffer from diarrhea and sickness. Over time, children grew weak, and the mortality rate remained high. It was I who found vegetable seeds and taught them farming. Gradually, this situation changed. That was why Kane was acclaimed by the people as their chieftain. Yet just now he said they were just seedlings, constantly making excuses for Liana’s mistake. “Kane, my belly hurts a bit.” Liana whimpered and buried her head into his chest, clinging to him tightly. She pressed against him, her eyes red and swimming with tears—a delicate, clinging thing playing the victim. Kane was indeed drawn to this scene. Without a word, he gently placed his large hand on Liana’s belly and then softly rubbed. He moved with careful tenderness, like she might break. Kane was never an attentive man. He learned all these details bit by bit after we were together. Whenever I felt unwell, he stayed close to me and refused to leave. However, I was watching him giving his care to another woman. Suddenly, I felt a pang of sadness. A dull ache throbbed from my injured knee. Lowering my gaze, I dug my nails into the soil. Their intimate moment stretched on. Liana continued to whimper weakly about the pain. Hearing this, Kane scooped her into his arms. Then he turned to me with a complex expression. “Iris, I’m taking Liana to the medicine woman. You…” “I’m in pain too,” I told him. Kane paused. I stared at him stubbornly, and my hand pressing the wound trembled slightly. “I’m in pain too, Kane.” Silence hung in the air. Kane hesitated, his mouth opening then closing. He took a step toward me. The next moment, Liana wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “Blood…” Fresh blood trickled down Liana’s thigh. Kane’s face changed instantly. Without further hesitation, he hurried towards the medicine woman’s hut with Liana in his arms. Watching their receding figures, the ghost of a smile tugged at my lips, leaving only a vast emptiness behind. My last feelings towards Kane vanished in this instant.

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The day the avalanche swallowed me, my own brother, Norris Burgess, cut the safety rope at my waist—to save the fake princess, Sadie Burgess, who had stolen my place. Snow rose past my face. My body heat bled away. With frozen, trembling lips, I called out to Norris. “Norris! Don’t leave me here… If you do, my adoptive father’s men will flatten this mountain!” I’d been back with my birth family for a year, quiet and obedient, never once mentioning my adoptive parents overseas. They had no idea—the couple who raised me commanded one of the most feared mercenary units in the world. My adoptive father was a legendary sniper. My adoptive mother, a demolition expert. And I was their only princess. But my brother just sneered, pulling the rope away. “Stop lying!” “You’re nothing but a hillbilly with a big mouth. I brought you skiing despite the embarrassment you cause, and now you dare compete with Sadie? Don’t you know how fragile she is ?” With that, he turned and walked away, holding the impostor’s hand. “If your adoptive parents are so impressive, let them send a helicopter for you!” As the light above me disappeared, I pressed the red button on my satellite locator with the last of my strength. What Norris didn’t know was this: Once that signal went out, this entire mountain would become his grave.

Norris’s figure vanished completely into the blizzard. Only the howling wind remained, mocking my foolishness. I struggled to open my eyes. Beside me stood only Norris’s personal assistant, Azrael Benton. He looked at me, his gaze complicated. A flicker of hope ignited within me—the instinct of fighting to survive. “Save… save me…” Azrael’s hand extended halfway, hovered in the air, then withdrew. “Miss Delilah Burgess, I’m sorry.” “Mr. Burgess said Miss Burgess is in shock. Everyone must escort her down the mountain now.” “Mr. Burgess also said the avalanche has stopped, you’re not buried deep, and with your rural upbringing, a little snow won’t kill you. He wants you to… cool off and think things over.” After speaking, Azrael guiltily averted his eyes. If he had just reached out and pulled, I could have climbed out. But he didn’t. He chose to obey that fool of a CEO and left me in this ice tomb. The sound of footsteps faded—that distinct crunching on snow. I was officially discarded. I strained to bend my fingers, reaching toward the hard object hidden inside my innermost layer of clothing. My adoptive mother had slipped it to me before I returned to the Burgess family. She said, “Delilah, this is your lifeline. Don’t use it unless you have absolutely no other choice.” Because once used, it meant the end of peaceful life. Back then, I laughed and said, “With my birth parents and brother, why would I ever need this?” Now, thinking back, it felt like the biggest joke in the world. Using the last of my strength, I slammed the red button. Beep. The tiny indicator blinked twice, weak and stubborn, then went dark for good. The satellite signal had been successfully sent. Signal sent. I didn’t know if I could last until they crossed the border and reached me. This place was a no-man’s land, sealed off by an avalanche. Then the phone pressed to my chest lit up. A unique vibration pattern. It was a message in the “Happy Mercenary Family” group chat. Even with the weak signal, texts still pushed through on this dedicated channel. Damian sent a picture. He was cleaning a heavy sniper rifle, its barrel pitch-black and gleaming coldly. The caption was simple. [Delilah, got your coordinates.] [Perfect timing—we’re on a mission near the border, only 120 miles from you.] [Scenic spot. Perfect for digging holes.] I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t move. Tried to type back, but my fingers were too numb to tap the screen.

Consciousness began to blur. Drifting, I seemed to return to those years abroad—chaotic yet pulsing with life. At five, after being trafficked, I ended up on the border. It was Hawk who dug me out from a pile of bodies. He scowled at how filthy I was, yet gave me half a ration bar. My adoptive father, Hawk, was a man of few words and one of the world’s top snipers. He taught me how to assemble a Glock in under three seconds. “Your gun is your partner. More reliable than people,” he said. My adoptive mother, Shera, was an elegant madwoman. She showed me how to make liquid explosives from supermarket detergent. “If anyone bullies you, blow them to hell. No need to explain,” she smiled. And then there was Damian. My sworn brother, who also crawled out from a grave of corpses. He always saved the choicest cut for me, smiling as he broke the bones of anyone who made me cry. That life—walking the knife’s edge yet wrapped in fierce loyalty—was one I walked away from myself. I’d been chasing the myth of “blood ties.” Foolishly thinking sharing DNA would give me a real family. So I put aside the mantle of “Red Fox” and slipped into the role of the timid, obedient long-lost heiress of the Burgess family. Once, when I was burning up with fever, Norris passed me a glass of water. Tears welled in my eyes, mistaking that small gesture for the warmth of home. Life soon delivered a stinging wake-up call. I later learned that water was Sadie’s leftover—too hot for her liking, so she’d tossed it my way. A jolt of raw pain tore me from the memory. Not the warmth of rescue, but the sharp, metallic bite of something hard striking bone. Crunch. A rescue worker’s shovel had slammed into my thigh. A choked gasp escaped me as awareness flickered back. I was dragged roughly from the snowbank—no stretcher, no emergency care in sight. The rescuer looked down at me, his expression pure disdain. “Still breathing after all that? Lucky you.” “You just cost us half an hour. Mr. Burgess is furious.” He didn’t bother with basic bandages, just tossed me onto a supply sled like a sack. The ride back to camp was a jarring, bone-rattling haul. Up ahead, the medical tent glowed warm against the cold, the hum of a space heater drifting out. Two guards hauled me inside. Warm air washed over me—but not for my sake. Sadie sat wrapped in a cashmere blanket in the only padded chair, surrounded by anxious nurses and a doctor. “Does it hurt, Miss Burgess?” “Bring the medicated cream, now!” I forced my eyes open. All Sadie had was a faint scrape on one finger—not even a drop of blood. Yet the camp’s only heater was aimed right at her hand. Meanwhile, I lay soaked and shivering, the gash on my thigh raw and exposed, curled on the muddy ground in a corner. Invisible. Azrael passed by, paused at the sight of me, then tossed a grimy, mud-stained towel in my direction. “Clean yourself up. Don’t stain the rug.” “Mr. Burgess is with Miss Burgess. Stay out of sight and keep quiet.” I clenched my jaw, staring at that soiled towel. And just like that, the last flicker of light inside me went out.

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