Category: English

### My sister-in-law has an unhealthy obsession with dramatic, over-the-top “tragedy fiction.” After giving birth, she refused to breastfeed the baby because the baby smiled at the nanny. She claimed the baby was an ungrateful little backstabber who would never love her. When my brother had to leave for an emergency meeting, he reminded her to take care of herself and not catch a cold while recovering postpartum. The moment he left, she filled the bathtub with cold water, sank herself into it, and stayed there until she was bleeding uncontrollably. She ended up in the hospital. One day, my brother’s assistant dropped by the house to deliver some documents. My sister-in-law sat calmly on the couch, her face a mask of sorrow and resignation. “You don’t have to flaunt your victory,” she said with a tragic air. “If you want this man, take him. I’ll step aside.” At the baby’s one-month celebration party, a family friend—a woman who grew up with us—came to congratulate them. My sister-in-law threw a glass of red wine at her, staining her expensive dress. “A mistress with no shame,” she sneered. “No designer gown can hide the ugliness of your soul.” My brother and I tried to reason with her, speaking as kindly as we could. But that night, she left without a word, vanishing into the darkness. All she left behind was a signed divorce agreement. “I don’t want you or the baby,” it read. My sister-in-law, Claire, has always been a fan of fiction. When she got pregnant, she stopped going out much, and reading novels became her favorite pastime. I’d even introduced her to the reading app she used, where friends could see each other’s bookshelves. One day, I opened the app and was hit with a flood of tragedy fiction recommendations: “Your Friend is Reading: ‘After Mom Faked Her Death, Dad Finally Regretted Everything.’” “Your Friend Just Reread: ‘Divorced and Abandoned, But Now My Ex-Husband and Son Begged Me to Come Back.’” “Your Friend Liked: ‘My Husband and Son Saved His First Love During the Flood, Leaving Me to Die.’” I only had one friend on this app—Claire. When I clicked on her bookshelf, it was packed wall-to-wall with these melodramatic, soap opera-style tragedy novels. My first reaction? My brother cheated on her! I immediately called my brother, Dylan. “Hey, what did you do to Claire?! Did you cheat? I swear, if you did, I’m calling Mom and Dad to break your legs!” Dylan sounded completely panicked. “What are you talking about? I would never cheat on Claire! I’m loyal to her, 100%. The only women I even talk to are you and Mom! Who’s been spreading these rumors?” My brother has always been a terrible liar, so I knew he was telling the truth. I relaxed a little. “Oh, okay,” I said casually. “I was just testing you. Congrats, you passed. Keep being a good husband, alright? Bye!” Maybe Claire just liked these kinds of novels. Maybe I was overthinking it. But it wasn’t long before I realized her obsession with tragedy fiction was way more intense—and way more concerning—than I’d thought. It all started after Claire gave birth. Thanks to Dylan’s constant attention during her pregnancy, everything went smoothly. On the day she went into labor, Dylan noticed her contractions were more frequent than usual. Without missing a beat, he grabbed the pre-packed hospital bag, alerted the medical team, and had their driver speed to the private hospital owned by our family. Since Claire didn’t have any parents of her own, my parents and I rushed to the hospital to support her and cheer her on during delivery. The birth itself went perfectly. Claire had been cared for so meticulously during her pregnancy that both she and the baby were in excellent shape. Before long, the sound of a baby’s cry filled the delivery room. Claire had given birth to a healthy baby boy. Following Dylan’s “support guidelines” for family members, we disinfected ourselves thoroughly before entering the room. We barely glanced at the newborn, instead gathering around Claire, who looked pale but radiant. My mom grabbed her hand, tears in her eyes. “Claire, sweetheart, you did such an amazing job. We’re so proud of you.” My dad, as always, was quieter with his affection. He simply slipped a black AmEx card under her pillow without a word. Dylan, on the other hand, was an emotional wreck. Gone was the ruthless businessman who dominated boardrooms—he was now a teary-eyed, doting husband. Claire, her voice soft and weak, said, “Let me see the baby.” A nurse gently brought over the tiny bundle, placing him in Claire’s arms. Claire leaned in close to the baby’s face, her eyes filled with warmth and love. “It wasn’t easy,” she whispered, “but it was worth it to bring you into this world.” The doctor, who had been monitoring the situation, smiled and reassured her. “You’re being too hard on yourself, Mrs. Stone. Your delivery went exceptionally well. Your family’s quick response, combined with the support of our team, made everything as smooth as possible. You didn’t even need stitches—no tearing, no complications. You did great.” But instead of looking relieved, Claire’s expression darkened. The warmth in the room evaporated. My parents, Dylan, and I all exchanged nervous glances. Claire’s voice was icy. “So what you’re saying is, it was easy for me to give birth? That my child will grow up thinking his mom didn’t even suffer for him? That I didn’t make any sacrifices?” The doctor froze, sweat beading on his forehead. “Mrs. Stone, that’s not what I meant at all!” I jumped in, trying to defuse the tension. “Claire, you carried him for nine months and brought him into this world. Of course, he’ll know how much you’ve done for him!” But Claire just frowned and leaned back against the bed. “Hmph. Who knows? Maybe one day he’ll grow up, call someone else ‘Mom,’ and forget all about me.” What?! None of us knew what to say. Seeing how exhausted she looked, we decided not to push the conversation further. To make sure Claire had the best postpartum care possible, my mom had started interviewing potential caregivers months in advance. She ended up hiring four top-tier postpartum nannies, a chef, and a nutritionist to take care of both Claire and the baby. We even had thick carpets installed throughout the house to reduce noise, and Claire’s bedroom was equipped with soundproof walls to ensure she could rest undisturbed. Dylan canceled all his work-related social events and delegated most of his responsibilities to his assistant so he could stay home and take care of Claire full-time. My parents were fully on board with this. “The company will be fine without you for a while,” my dad said. “Right now, Claire and the baby need you more than anything.” “The doctor said postpartum hormones can make emotions unpredictable,” my mom added. “You need to keep an eye on her and make sure she stays in good spirits.” Even I tried to help, scouring every store I could think of to find snacks and little gifts that might cheer her up. But no matter what we did, Claire remained distant and melancholy. 2 Under the care of the nanny, the baby grew more lively and adorable with each passing day. His big, sparkling eyes and soft, porcelain-like skin made him look like a little doll—impossible not to love. One afternoon, I was playing with the baby alongside the nanny, holding up toys and making silly faces to get him to laugh. He giggled nonstop, his tiny mouth spreading into the sweetest smile. That’s when Claire, my sister-in-law, walked into the room. She froze in the doorway, her face pale, her lips trembling. “He’s never smiled at me like that—not once. But he’ll laugh so easily for a stranger. In the end, he’s just an ungrateful little traitor…” The baby, unaware of the tension, blinked his wide, innocent eyes at us, confused. I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Claire, he’s just a baby! He doesn’t even know what’s going on. How can you say something like that?” But Claire only shook her head, looking heartbroken. “You don’t understand.” Dylan, my brother, rushed over with a blanket, draping it over her shoulders. “Claire, don’t overthink it. The baby loves you the most—of course he does!” Claire gave a faint, bitter smile. “Better to let go now than wait for him to resent me later.” From that day on, she made up her mind. She took medication to stop producing milk and refused to breastfeed the baby again. “It’s fine,” Dylan said through gritted teeth, watching the nanny prepare formula. “The baby will grow up healthy on formula. Claire’s mental health is the most important thing.” But the baby cried inconsolably, his tiny face red with tears, unable to understand why the comforting warmth of his mother’s arms and milk was suddenly gone. Claire, unmoved, glanced at him coldly. “See? Just like the novels said—pain teaches regret.” She turned to the nanny, her expression indifferent. “Take him back to the nursery. I need to rest.” I clenched my fists, struggling to contain the anger that had been building inside me. Finally, I pulled Dylan out of the room. “Don’t you think Claire might have postpartum depression?” he asked, running a tired hand through his hair. “She was fine before the baby was born, but now… she’s like a completely different person.” My anger instantly faded, replaced by a pang of guilt. He was right—Claire wasn’t herself anymore. It had to be the hormones, and she was likely struggling more than any of us realized. “You’re right,” I admitted. “She’s at her most vulnerable right now. We need to help her through this.” “By the way,” I added, “you might want to take her phone away for a while. Those novels she’s reading aren’t helping. The last thing she needs is more drama from those over-the-top tragic stories.” It didn’t take long for my warning to come true. One day, Dylan’s assistant called to say there was an urgent issue at the company that required his personal attention. Dylan spent hours trying to resolve the problem remotely, but nothing worked. “Claire,” he said gently, “I have to run to the office for a few hours. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Claire barely looked at him. “Go ahead. Don’t worry about me.” Dylan leaned down and kissed her forehead, tucking the blanket snugly around her. “You’re still recovering—make sure to stay warm. I’ll bring back that cake you like from your favorite bakery.” With that, he hurried out the door. When he returned a few hours later, cake box in hand, the house was shrouded in darkness. “Claire?” he called out, his voice tinged with panic. After searching every room, he finally checked the security footage and confirmed that she hadn’t left the house. Following the sound of running water, we found her in the bathroom. Dylan flipped the light switch, and there she was—sitting in the bathtub, fully clothed in a thin white dress, her body submerged in ice-cold water. Her expression was distant, her eyes glassy, like she wasn’t even there. “Claire!” Dylan shouted, rushing to pull her out of the tub. The icy water shocked him so badly he shuddered, but he didn’t pause for a moment. “Claire, what are you doing? You’re still recovering! You can’t expose yourself to cold like this—it’s dangerous!” Claire slowly blinked at him, then let out a bitter laugh. “Dylan, stop pretending. If you really cared, you wouldn’t have left me alone when I needed you most.” “You chose your company over me,” she added, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So why does it matter what happens to me?” Dylan’s face turned pale, his lips trembling, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he called the hospital, his voice cracking as he demanded an ambulance. The red velvet cake he’d brought back for her lay discarded at the bathroom door, crushed and forgotten. Claire spent the next seven days in the hospital. The prolonged exposure to cold during her postpartum recovery caused her to develop a fever and relentless bleeding. She lost so much weight during her stay that she was almost unrecognizable when she was finally discharged. Dylan stayed by her side the entire time. He didn’t shave. He barely slept, dozing off in a chair by her bed, terrified she might disappear if he looked away. When my parents learned what had happened, they both sighed heavily. None of us could find the right words to say. As they walked out of the hospital room, Claire watched them go with an unreadable expression. Then, she said quietly, “I knew this day would come.” “When I’ve accumulated enough scars from all of you, I’ll leave, too.” “No one in this world truly needs anyone else.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Claire, what the hell are you talking about?” I snapped, pointing an accusing finger at her. “This family bends over backward for you! We’ve done everything to support you, to make sure you’re happy and healthy. And what do you do? You ruin your own body, push everyone away, and act like we’re the ones to blame. What’s your goal here?!” 3 Claire stubbornly turned her head away. “Your so-called concern, arriving late as always, is worth less than dirt. I don’t need your cheap sympathy.” “Claire, what are you talking about—” My parents, who had just returned to check on her, froze in the doorway, stunned by what they’d overheard. Claire’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of panic flashing in her eyes as she looked at them. But my mom simply sighed, her tone heavy with disappointment. “Claire, just rest. Your health is what matters most. We’ll leave now.” Claire pressed her lips together tightly, saying nothing. Seeing the pleading look in Dylan’s eyes, I swallowed my frustration and left with my parents. After that incident, Claire must have realized she’d gone too far. She quieted down for a while, and things between her and the rest of the family started to ease up. With Dylan’s encouragement, we gradually let go of the tension and resentment. When their baby boy, Nathan, was finally named and started to grow, the house slowly returned to its once-harmonious atmosphere. That is, until the day a new intern from Dylan’s company showed up to deliver some documents. To avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings, Dylan had been working from home, arranging for his male assistant, Jack, to deliver paperwork that needed his signature. Jack would drop off the documents, Dylan would handle them, and Jack would take them back to the office. But on this particular day, Jack called in sick, and the task fell to a new intern. The intern, a young woman who’d just graduated, arrived at the front door in a professional-looking suit and carrying a large work bag. She politely handed the documents to Dylan, who silently signed them without saying a word. Not a single unnecessary exchange occurred between them. Unfortunately, Claire happened to walk in at that exact moment. The intern, sensing the tension, immediately greeted her politely. “Good evening, Mrs. Stone. I’m so sorry to intrude. I’m an intern at the company—my name is Lily. I was just here to deliver these documents for Mr. Stone.” But something twisted in Claire’s expression. It was as if she’d been struck by lightning. Her face darkened, and then, like a storm rolling in, she wore an expression of grim certainty. Dylan, noticing her look, quickly explained, “Jack couldn’t make it today, so Lily had to bring the paperwork over. She’s leaving as soon as I’ve signed them.” Claire, however, didn’t seem to hear him. She gave Lily a strange, almost pitying smile, and then calmly dropped a bombshell. “There’s no need for you to leave. I’ll step aside for the two of you.” Lily froze, completely confused. “I’m sorry… step aside? What do you mean?” I immediately sensed disaster brewing and quickly stepped in, grabbing Claire’s hand. “Claire, let’s not joke around like that! Dinner’s ready—it’s your favorite fish soup. Let’s eat, okay?” I shot Dylan a look, silently begging him to step in. Dylan caught on and shoved the papers into Lily’s hands. “I’ve signed everything. Take these back to the office right away.” But Claire pulled her hand from mine, her face filled with tragic determination. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “You don’t have to pretend anymore. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? You’re here to flaunt your victory, aren’t you? Fine. Take him. He’s yours.” Lily looked horrified. “Mrs. Stone, I think there’s been a misunderstanding! I have a boyfriend—I’m just here to deliver paperwork!” But Claire wasn’t listening. She was lost in her own spiraling imagination, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “Oh, sweet girl. I was young once, too. I remember those promises of eternal love, those grand gestures. Don’t get too comfortable—you haven’t won anything. The only things you can take are the things I no longer want.” Dylan finally lost his patience. “Claire, stop this nonsense! Lily is just an intern! She has nothing to do with me!” Claire stared at him in disbelief, tears spilling down her cheeks. “You’re yelling at me? For her? What’s next? Are you going to call me irrational and accuse me of making things up?” Her voice broke, trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I knew it. Those novels I read—they were right. They’re all just reflections of reality! If I hadn’t walked in on you tonight, how much longer were you planning to keep this a secret from me?”

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When my brothers allowed their foster sister to impersonate me, they thought I’d accept it. Given another chance, I’ll ensure she faces the consequences. ### When I was eight, the family’s spiritual advisor declared that my destiny was “too fragile.” So, they sent me away to live in seclusion at Serenity Ridge, a place overflowing with spiritual energy. I was supposed to stay there until I turned eighteen. But when I finally returned to the family estate, I discovered the truth: For ten years, my so-called loving brothers had let their adopted foster sister, Jessica, take my place, pretending to be me. At the birthday banquet of my fiancé, she had the audacity to take things even further. Jessica snatched the token of our engagement—a gift from my uncle, the Emperor himself—and held it up for everyone to see. Pointing at me, she spoke loudly, her voice full of mockery: “Lord Wyatt, I’m so sorry for the embarrassment. Our foster sister here doesn’t know her place and dared to steal the engagement token the Emperor gifted to the two of us. She even tried to use it to impersonate me and deceive you. Don’t worry, when we return home, I’ll make sure my brothers teach her how to behave properly.” If this had been my previous life, I would’ve swallowed my pride and let her humiliate me, desperate to please my brothers and their favorite little “sister.” But not this time. Because this time… I had been reborn. I stepped forward, grabbed the engagement token from her hand, and threw it to the ground with all my strength. Then, I slapped her across the face so hard the room fell silent. “Jessica,” I said coldly, my voice cutting through the stunned silence, “you dare steal from me? You must think your life has been too easy for too long.”

Everyone froze, stunned by my actions. For a moment, the room was filled with silence as people exchanged uneasy glances. Jessica, however, was completely thrown off. She stumbled backward, falling to the ground in shock. For a brief moment, anger flickered in her eyes, sharp and venomous, but it quickly disappeared. She replaced it with her usual pitiful act, clutching her cheek as tears welled up in her eyes. “Savannah,” she whimpered, her voice trembling, “I know you’ve admired Lord Wyatt for a long time, but you and he… you’re worlds apart. Please, don’t lower yourself like this.” “Worlds apart?” I echoed, stepping forward. My gaze bore into her as I looked down at her pitiful figure on the floor. A cold smirk tugged at my lips. “My mother was a princess of the royal bloodline. My father is the Duke of Harrington, a man whose victories on the battlefield are the stuff of legend. My uncle is the King of this realm. I am the true heiress of the Harrington family, noble-born and of the purest lineage. And Wyatt?” I scoffed. “He’s the son of a mere baron. You’re right, Jessica—we are worlds apart.” “Savannah! How dare you twist the truth!” The voice belonged to my fourth brother, Logan, who rushed toward us, his expression filled with panic. Following close behind was my third brother, Michael, who bent down to help Jessica off the ground. “Jessica, are you all right?” Logan asked, his voice dripping with concern as he gently cupped her face. His brows furrowed in worry, his tone soft as if she were a fragile flower. Jessica shook her head weakly, tears brimming in her eyes. She looked up at him with such a pitiful expression that anyone watching would have felt sorry for her. Michael, meanwhile, turned to Lord Wyatt with a composed but sharp expression. “Lord Wyatt,” he said, his voice steady and full of authority, “Savannah was nothing but a lowly servant in the Harrington household. My father, out of mercy, adopted her as a foster daughter. But clearly, she’s forgotten her place. She’s delusional enough to think she could pass herself off as a noblewoman—worse yet, your future wife. Allow me to summon my elder brothers. We’ll deal with this matter through the family’s laws.” At his command, an attendant hurried off to fetch our eldest brother, Edward. The crowd, already murmuring before, erupted into louder whispers, their words sharp and biting. “She’s a fraud! Pretending to be the Duke’s daughter? How shameless!” “I heard the late Duchess adored her real daughter so much that she gave up her comfortable life in the palace to travel the kingdom, helping the poor and praying for her child’s future. Can you imagine how furious she’d be if she knew about this imposter?” “And the Duke himself—he’ll be furious when he hears his precious daughter was mistreated. He’ll make that girl wish she’d never been born.” “Not to mention the four Harrington brothers. They dote on their sister like she’s made of gold. There’s no way they’ll take this lying down.” “If I were her, I’d be on my knees right now, begging Jessica for forgiveness.” “She’s just some peasant girl from the countryside, trying to act like a noble. A crow pretending to be a swan. Disgusting.” I let out a soft laugh, amused by the ridiculous chatter. They weren’t wrong, though. When my parents returned and learned the truth, neither Jessica nor my so-called brothers would escape punishment. Wyatt stepped forward then, standing beside Jessica and my brothers, his expression one of smug self-righteousness. “Of course, I trust your word, Third Young Master,” he said to Michael, his tone eager to please. “Jessica is the picture of grace and kindness. There’s no way someone like her could be an imposter.” He turned to Jessica, his gaze softening as he looked her over. Once satisfied that she wasn’t seriously hurt, he turned to me, his face twisting into a sneer. “And you,” Wyatt said, his voice dripping with contempt, “just two nights ago, you came to me with the engagement token, claiming to be the real Lady Harrington. Did you truly think I’d believe you? I’ve known Jessica for years—her kindness, her nobility. And you?” He scoffed, his lip curling in disdain. “You’ve been allowed to play the role of a noble for so long that you’ve forgotten your true place. You’re nothing but a dog pretending to be human.” Perfect. Everything was going just as I had planned. Wyatt, oh Wyatt, if you didn’t insult me like this, how else would I break this ridiculous engagement?

When the old Marquis passed away, and Wyatt’s family fell into decline under his lackluster leadership, the once-proud house of the Stuarts grew desperate. That’s when they clung to the mighty Duke of Harrington, hoping to salvage their crumbling status through an alliance. In my previous life, Wyatt went to great lengths to secure a royal decree for our engagement. Day after day, he petitioned my uncle, the King. His persistence fooled my uncle into thinking he would treat me with the utmost devotion, and thus, my uncle granted his consent and gifted us a pair of matching jade pendants as a symbol of our union. At the time, I was far away, training in isolation at Serenity Ridge. When the pendants arrived, I was stunned. But my uncle had always been a good judge of character, and I’d heard whispers that Wyatt’s reputation as a handsome and capable young lord was well-earned. Imagine my shock when I returned home to find Wyatt wrapped around Jessica, my so-called foster sister, showering her with affection. For the first time in my life, I ignored my brothers’ warnings and secretly revealed my true identity to Wyatt, hoping he would set things right. But instead, he flew into a rage. Without hesitation, he ran straight to my brothers, who, terrified that Jessica’s true origins would be exposed, decided to silence me before my parents could return. They beat me to death with clubs, my cries silenced by the wilderness. My body was left unburied, torn apart by the wild dogs that came in the night. After my death, my uncle the King was furious. Wyatt, ever the actor, knelt before the throne with tears streaming down his face, swearing that he had always loved me, that he’d been tricked by villains. Such a man… a liar and a coward. Hardly the loving husband my uncle had envisioned. Jessica, foolish as ever, thought that marrying into the Marquisate would bring her endless wealth and status, blind to the fact that Wyatt’s house was already on the verge of collapse. What a joke. Now, in this life, the crowd stood firmly on Jessica’s side. She cast me a quick, triumphant glance before lowering her gaze demurely. Her voice, soft and sweet, carried just the right hint of grievance as she spoke: “Savannah, I’ve always treated you like my own sister. How could you stab me in the back like this, pretending to be me just to marry Wyatt? Don’t you care how much it hurts me?” She pressed a trembling hand to her chest, her expression full of betrayal and heartbreak. Her act was so convincing that the onlookers immediately began murmuring in sympathy. “Sister?” I sneered, my voice icy. “You think you deserve to call yourself my sister?” I stepped forward, my gaze sharp as a blade. “Since the day you were taken in as a foster daughter of the Duke’s family, you’ve coveted everything that belongs to me. And every time, I let you have it. My dresses, my jewelry, my books—whatever you wanted, I gave it to you. Even when you mistreated the servants, I covered for you, afraid my brothers would throw you out if they found out the truth. “And how do you repay me, Jessica? By stealing my fiancé?” I laughed coldly, the sound cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. “How greedy can you be?” Tears began to pool in Jessica’s eyes, and she bit her lip, trembling like a fragile bird. The sight of her pitiful act made the spectators’ hearts soften even more. “Jessica, you’re too kind,” Logan said soothingly, patting her shoulder. “That’s why people like her take advantage of you.” Three pairs of angry eyes turned toward me, their combined fury almost tangible. Wyatt, emboldened by their support, stepped forward and declared, his voice loud and clear: “I, Wyatt Stuart, would never lower myself to marry someone like her! I swear, my heart belongs only to Jessica, and I will never take another woman as my wife—not even a concubine!” His words rang out, bold and resolute, drawing gasps of admiration from the crowd. “What devotion!” “Lord Wyatt is truly a man of principle. Such a beautiful love story!” “And that shameless girl dared to try and interfere? Ridiculous!” I let out a soft, mocking laugh, my gaze locked onto Wyatt’s face. “Are you certain?” I asked, my tone light and teasing. “You’re choosing her over me?” Wyatt shot me a look of utter disgust, as if my very presence offended him. “You? A lowly wretch like you dares to ask that question? Even the stable hands at the Marquisate are too good for you. How dare you dream of marrying me?” Laughter erupted around us, the crowd pointing and jeering at me. “Good,” I said quietly, my smile widening. “You’ve made your choice. No regrets, then?” “None,” Wyatt spat, his voice firm. “Perfect.” At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed in the hall. My eldest two brothers had arrived, completing the scene. The sight of them brought back memories of my previous life, of the day they stood over me, their faces cold and unfeeling as they condemned me to death. “You dare defy us and reveal Jessica’s secret? You thought you could steal her fiancé? You’ve gone too far this time!” “She’s been nothing but trouble since the day we took her in. Let’s cut out her tongue so she can’t speak anymore!” “Cutting out her tongue isn’t enough. She can still write. Better to kill her and be done with it. Feed her to the dogs and tell Father and Mother she ran away.” “Yes, once she’s gone, Jessica will truly be the only daughter of the Harrington family.” The memory sent a chill down my spine, but I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. Now, everyone was finally here. And it was time to end this charade once and for all.

“Edward! Victor!” The moment Jessica saw the two of them enter, her eyes turned red, and tears pooled as if on command. She looked utterly pitiful, the picture of injustice. Victor, my Second Brother shot me a venomous glare before gently patting Jessica on the shoulder. His voice was soft and soothing, dripping with indulgence. “Jessica, don’t be afraid. Tell Victor everything. No matter what, I’ll make sure justice is served for you.” “It’s nothing,” Jessica replied with a weak smile, her voice trembling slightly. “Savannah’s just a little jealous of me. She wanted to pretend to be the Duke’s daughter, but I understand. She’s never seen the world and let her ambitions get the better of her.” “She dares to impersonate you?” Victor’s voice turned sharp as he spat on the ground in my direction, his contempt clear. Edward, his brow furrowed and his tone as cold as ice, added, “We only have one sister, and that’s Jessica. Savannah? She’s nothing more than a lowly servant in the Duke’s household.” The moment those words left his mouth, I could see the same murderous intent in his eyes that I remembered from my previous life. Just like that day, when he and the others had beaten me to death in the wilderness. With Edward’s declaration, the crowd immediately sided with Jessica, their murmurs of disdain for me growing louder. At that moment, a girl stepped out from the crowd. I recognized her immediately—Charlotte, the daughter of a minor noble and one of Jessica’s most loyal lapdogs. She crossed her arms and glared at me with righteous indignation. “This wretch even dared to lay a hand on Jessica!” Charlotte exclaimed. “I saw it with my own eyes last night. Poor Jessica’s back is covered in bruises—purple and swollen!” “Charlotte, please…” Jessica bit her lip, her teary eyes glistening as she looked up at the crowd. Her voice was soft and full of sorrow. “Jessica, did she really hurt you?” Victor’s face darkened as he stepped closer to her, his voice trembling with anger. “I’m sure Savannah didn’t mean to hurt me,” Jessica murmured, her voice delicate and full of forgiveness. “Please don’t blame her because of me.” Her words sounded like mercy, but they confirmed her story in the eyes of the crowd. To them, she was the poor, innocent victim, and I was the vile aggressor. Jessica’s frail figure, trembling ever so slightly, combined with her pitiful expression, only deepened the crowd’s sympathy for her. My brothers stared at me like wolves ready to tear me apart. “Savannah!” they barked in unison, their eyes blazing with fury. I arched an eyebrow and turned to Charlotte first. “You’re the daughter of a minor court official, a mere fourth rank at best. What gives you the right to speak to me like this? Why don’t you fetch your father instead?” Her face turned red, but before she could retort, I turned to Jessica with a cold smile. “You claim I hit you? That you’re covered in bruises? Fine—let’s have your injuries examined.” The moment the words left my mouth, Jessica and Charlotte’s expressions changed. Charlotte’s face flushed with anger. “You filthy wretch! How dare you speak to me like that? You’re not even worthy to lick my boots. And Jessica’s injuries don’t need to be examined! If she says you hit her, who else could have done it?” “Who knows?” I shrugged. “Maybe you did it yourselves.” Charlotte’s face contorted with rage, and Jessica’s lips quivered as tears fell from her eyes like pearls on a broken string. She threw herself into Victor’s arms, sobbing pitifully. “To examine my bruises, I’d have to undress. Savannah wants to humiliate me and ruin my reputation! How could I possibly live with such shame?” Jessica’s words were like oil on fire. Wyatt, who had been sitting quietly, jumped to his feet and pointed a trembling finger at me. “Savannah, how dare you?” he roared. “Jessica is my future wife, the future lady of the Marquisate, and I will not allow anyone to humiliate her!” “Try to touch her, and you’ll answer to us!” Logansnarled, his anger boiling over. “You’re so malicious, Savannah,” Michael spat. “We should’ve sold you off ages ago!” I didn’t bother listening to their empty threats. Instead, I waved to the servants. “Bring a screen. Let’s settle this properly.” “Slap!” The sound of a sharp slap echoed through the room. A stinging sensation bloomed across my cheek, and Jessica’s lips twitched with satisfaction as she tried to hide the smug smile on her face. But her eyes couldn’t conceal her triumph. “Well done, Edward!” Logan cheered, clapping his hands with glee while the others smirked. Edward glared at me, his eyes cold with anger. “You dared to hurt Jessica? That slap was mercy. Kneel before her, apologize, and perhaps we’ll spare you.” “Slap!” Before he could finish, I struck him across the face. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at me, stunned into silence. “Savannah, you—” “Slap!” I struck him again. “You—” “Slap!” Three slaps in total. Edward’s face turned crimson, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He looked like an enraged bull, ready to charge. “Feel better now?” I asked calmly, my voice devoid of emotion. The room fell silent. The crowd was stunned. Edward, the future Duke of Harrington, had been slapped—three times—in front of everyone. “Savannah, how dare you!” Logan bellowed. “Kneel down and apologize to him immediately!” I let out a cold laugh. “Him? A Duke? That’s a joke. The lot of you have forgotten where you came from. Shall I remind you?” My voice dripped with contempt as I continued, “Father and Mother have only one child—me. The four of you? You’re nothing but orphans, adopted out of pity after your father died in a brothel, leaving you to fend for yourselves. You’re lucky to even bear the Harrington name.” Their faces turned pale, their hands trembling. “Enough talk!” Victor growled. He handed Jessica to Wyatt, then drew a dagger from his belt. “If you won’t apologize, I’ll cut off your hands. We’ll see how stubborn you are after that!” “No need for that,” Edward said coldly. He grabbed the dagger and plunged it into my chest. The crowd gasped in horror. “Die!” he hissed, his eyes red with rage. Wyatt shielded Jessica’s eyes. “Don’t look, my love—it’s too gruesome.” But instead of blood, there was only silence. Edward’s expression shifted to terror as he realized the blade hadn’t pierced my skin. “W-what…?” “Such a shame,” I said with a smirk, pulling open my cloak to reveal the golden scales beneath. “The King’s gift—an enchanted breastplate. Completely impenetrable.” The dagger clattered to the floor as Edward stumbled back in shock. At that moment, a deep, booming voice cut through the tension: “You wretched fools! How dare you lay a hand on my daughter!”

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Liam Blackwood’s mother thought I wasn’t good enough for her precious son. She tried to bribe me with $7 million to leave him. My best friend Scarlett disagreed, “True love conquers all. Your pure love shouldn’t be tainted by money. If you take the money and run now, you’ll live with guilt towards Liam forever.” I foolishly believed her nonsense. I didn’t want the money; I just wanted Liam to treat me well. But later, I discovered Liam had been fooling around with Scarlett all along. In the end, I lost both love and money, and the stress even gave me breast cancer. Meanwhile, Scarlett turned around and accepted $14 million from Liam’s mother to cut ties with him. I found her at her luxury villa, kneeling and begging her to lend me money for surgery. She just threw a glass of red wine in my face. “You idiot! You’re so stupid it’s killing you! I stole your boyfriend, took the breakup fee that should have been yours, and now you think I’d help you? I can’t wait to get rid of you, let alone save you.” In the end, I died slowly from the disease. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Liam’s mother offered me $7 million to leave her precious son. I took off my Bluetooth earpiece, turned off my phone, and shook my head at Mrs. Blackwood, “I’m sorry, but I’m pregnant with Liam’s child.” “My son is the CEO of Blackwood Corp, voted the city’s most eligible bachelor. You’re a poor factory worker who didn’t even finish high school. You’re not a good match. Even if you stay together, it’ll end badly,” she said. “Why not listen to me? Take the money and leave Liam. It’s better for both of you.” The check fell lightly into my palm, feeling like it was crushing my skull. I sat up straight, holding the check with both hands, carefully examining the numbers. “You can’t take this money. If you do, it’ll create a crack in your relationship with Liam. You’ll never have a chance with him again.” “True love conquers all. Your pure feelings shouldn’t be tainted by money,” Scarlett’s voice kept coming through the earpiece, making my chest ache with anger. I simply took off the earpiece and turned off my phone. I sighed, pushed the check back to Mrs. Blackwood, and shook my head, “I’m afraid that won’t work, ma’am!” Her face darkened as she took back the check, “Ungrateful! You’ll regret this later.” I held down one corner of the check, looking at her meaningfully, “I’m pregnant with Liam’s child.” Her face instantly turned black. She gasped for air, thinking I wanted to use the child to marry into their wealthy family. “Ma’am, you know, an abortion is quite expensive, and it’s harmful to my body. As for my mental state—” “$14 million!” Mrs. Blackwood cut me off, seeing through my little scheme. “Deal!” I agreed readily, taking back the check from her hand. That’s more like it. Why give Scarlett 14 million and only offer me 7 million? We should be treated equally. I left the restaurant and went straight to the bank to transfer the money. When I have time, I’ll learn about investing to make plans for the future. All afternoon, my heart felt like fireworks were exploding inside, so excited I wanted to scream. I admit I’m materialistic, a woman who values wealth. On the cab ride home, the heater was cool, the driver was friendly, and my chest felt clear. In my previous life, I had told Scarlett about Mrs. Blackwood wanting to meet me, asking for her advice. She told me to wear an earpiece and follow her instructions. When I heard Mrs. Blackwood was offering $7 million for me to leave her son, Scarlett immediately exploded with anger and anxiety. “True love is tested by worldly pressures. Only after going through all hardships is it true love. Aria, this is all a test of your relationship.” “You can’t take this money. If you do, it’ll create a crack in your relationship with Liam. You’ll never have a chance with him again.” “True love conquers all. Your pure feelings shouldn’t be tainted by money.” “Have some backbone, don’t let people look down on you.” So I believed her and didn’t take the money. I just wanted Liam to be devoted to me. It wasn’t until Liam broke up with me that I realized I was just a replacement for his dead ex-girlfriend. Coincidentally, Scarlett also looked quite similar to me. So the two of them had been fooling around behind my back for a long time. He said, “You’re so boring and prudish. In bed, you can’t even compare to a single strand of Scarlett’s hair.” “I’m a CEO making millions. Every day I have to coax and beg just to get a kiss from you, wasting half my day.” “I’ve had enough. I don’t want to keep coaxing you anymore, and I don’t want to keep hiding with Scarlett. I want to give her a proper status.” In the end, I lost both love and money, and the stress even gave me breast cancer. Scarlett, who had initially advised me to stay pure, ended up accepting $14 million from Mrs. Blackwood as a breakup fee. She traveled the world and dated freely. I finally managed to find her when she returned to the country, at her luxury villa. But she just threw a glass of red wine in my face. She tapped my forehead with her finger, looking at me like I was a clown. “You idiot! You’re so stupid it’s killing you! I stole your boyfriend, took the breakup fee that should have been yours, and now you think I’d help you? I can’t wait to get rid of you, let alone save you. The sooner you die, the sooner you’ll be at peace.” Of course, I knew she had schemed against me. But I had no choice but to beg them. I had no parents and knew only them. In the end, I died slowly from the disease in a basement. Perhaps even the heavens couldn’t bear to watch my laughable and tragic life? Given another chance, I swore I wouldn’t make the same mistakes. The money is mine, and whoever wants the man can have him. I got out of the cab with a smile, immediately spotting Scarlett pacing anxiously at the entrance of our apartment complex. Seeing me, she ran over, her eyes fixed on the departing cab, “How could you afford a cab? It costs $30 from downtown to here. Don’t tell me you had no backbone and took the old lady’s money.” She was panting, looking utterly disappointed in me. I tried hard to suppress my smile, “No, I was just scared and wanted to get home quickly to see you.” Her expression improved a bit, and she linked arms with me affectionately. “Don’t think I’m nagging. There’s a difference between eating one meal and eating every meal.” “Now that you’ve got Liam, it’s like you’ve got the Blackwood family’s billions. How could you ever be poor again?” “Right now, you need to act high and mighty. Tell Liam, tell the Blackwoods, that you’re not after their money. You want Liam for who he is. Don’t let them look down on you.” “Otherwise, once you marry in, life won’t be easy. They’ll definitely treat you like dirt.” “So you must refuse all the bags and jewelry Liam gives you, understand?” … Scarlett chattered on and on as we walked. I suddenly stopped, pulling away from her, “Scarlett, stop saying these things.” She froze, looking at me helplessly, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “My relationship with Liam is pure, sacred and inviolable. I won’t let you talk about it like this.” Hearing this, she smiled, “That’s what I mean. I’m glad you understand.” “Scarlett!” I stared into her eyes, “Why didn’t you come back from the bathroom at yesterday’s banquet? And you didn’t even come home last night.” Her face instantly turned pale, her expression frozen, “I… I drank too much, so I slept at a hotel.” “Oh, did you see Liam? You two left one after another. He said he had company business, but what business could there be in the middle of the night?” She licked her lips, touching her nose, “Maybe it was foreign clients? You know his business is international.” I smiled, “You’re right!” She took out her keys and ran off, saying she’d go open the door. But I saw her patting her chest in relief as she ran. Well, well. So they were already fooling around at this point. I was such an idiot in my previous life, not suspecting anything at all. Feeling a bit angry, to prevent getting breast cancer, I took out my phone and opened my chat with Liam. I accepted his $14,000 transfer from yesterday. Then I sent, “I’ve picked out my birthday gift. How about that limited edition pink Maserati?” He replied instantly, “You… have a driver’s license?” Whether I have a license or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s valuable and will hold its value. And it’ll make me feel better. “Liam, how can you talk like that? Not very CEO-like at all. When I say I want something, you should just give it to me. Why ask so many questions? Are you stalling because you have someone else outside?” The screen showed “typing” for a while before his message came through. “I’m sorry, I was wrong. But I swear there’s only you.” Yeah, right. Who knows how many mementos of his dead ex he’s collected behind my back. This time around, I only want money. Whoever wants the love can have it. On my birthday, Liam rented out the most luxurious hotel in the city and invited all his friends. Scarlett arrived fashionably late. She wore a tight-fitting evening gown that showed off her curves beautifully. The emerald necklace around her neck was dazzling. I’d seen a celebrity wear this necklace set before. It was said to be worth over $40 million. The night the celebrity wore it, it was bought by a mysterious tycoon. So that mysterious tycoon was Liam, huh? I held my head and smiled bitterly. They were so blatant last time, and I didn’t suspect a thing. I really was clueless. Scarlett stood timidly at the door, her watery eyes looking at me. Waiting for me to invite her to sit in the empty seat next to Liam. I suddenly dropped my smile and threw down the Maserati keys. “Liam, you’ve really disappointed me.” Seeing his confused face, I continued, “Scarlett, a waitress making 2,000 a month,is wearing a limiteded edition gown and a nemerald necklace worth 40 million. “Look at me, I don’t have a single expensive thing on. Does this make sense? And for my birthday gift, you only gave me a $600,000 Maserati. Are you trying to mistreat me?” Everyone around covered their mouths, trying not to laugh out loud. Liam’s face turned pale. He was very embarrassed. “Didn’t you say not to give you expensive gifts? That you wanted to have an equal relationship with me?” “It was Scarlett who told me not to accept money from men, so I wouldn’t be looked down on. She said to have some backbone.” I frowned and walked towards the flustered Scarlett, “Right, so where did all this come from? Did you win the lottery?” Scarlett’s lips were pressed white. Her gaze passed over me to look at Liam behind me, on the verge of tears. Liam pulled me back, whispering in my ear, “They might be fake. Don’t push her. Can’t you see she’s about to cry? Aren’t you two best friends?” “Fake!” I deliberately raised my voice, “Don’t insult her. I knew her before all these rumors. She’s too proud to buy fakes. Right, Scarlett?” Meeting my gaze, Scarlett burst into tears, her makeup ruined. Surrounded by everyone’s speculative looks, she was extremely embarrassed. “They’re fake, I admit they’re fake! I just didn’t want to be looked down on by you all. I didn’t want to seem too shabby. What’s wrong with that? You were born with silver spoons and don’t understand me, fine!” She looked at me with teary eyes, “What about you? We’re the same kind of people. Don’t you understand me? Or are you doing this on purpose, wanting to see me humiliated?” I swirled my wine glass, “Who’s the same as you? Can you find a boyfriend as handsome and rich as Liam? You’re so ugly, no one wants you!” My expression turned cold, and I poured the whole glass of red wine on her white dress. “Yes, I did it on purpose. I just can’t stand your self-righteousness.” “You say the necklace is fake, fine. I’ll transfer you $14,000 to keep the necklace. Otherwise, it’s real, and I’ll investigate who gave it to you.” Scarlett’s knuckles turned white as she angrily took off the necklace and turned to leave. “Wait, what about the ring and earrings? They’re a set.” Scarlett cried as she took them off. I felt bad watching, let alone Liam. Sitting back down, he asked me quietly, “You’re usually so good-tempered. Why are you so angry at her today?” “I feel like she’s being someone’s mistress. I can’t let her keep making mistakes, you know?” Seeing my good intentions, Liam patted my shoulder, “You’ve worked hard! I’m going to the bathroom first.” Watching him walk away, I smiled. The fish had finally taken the bait. After some small talk, I also excused myself. Hiding in the stairwell, I opened my phone. On the screen, Liam had Scarlett pinned against the bathroom wall. One hand controlled both her hands, while the other roamed her body. His mouth kept kissing away her tears. “Look how busy he is,” I couldn’t help but comment. Scarlett pushed his hand away and questioned, “Who’s prettier, me or her? Do you like her more or me?” “You’re prettier. I only like you, baby,” Liam said without missing a beat. “She won’t let me touch her. How can she compare to your passion? Don’t worry, I’ll definitely take responsibility for you after I touch you.” “I’m waiting for a chance to break up with her and make things official with you.” Scarlett was coaxed from tears to smiles. “Heh, that’s men for you. They’ll say anything to anyone.” Before I could finish speaking, intimate sounds came from the phone. My cheeks flushed red, and I suddenly stood up. My hand shook, and the phone fell to the ground. I bent down to pick it up, but a large hand beat me to it. The man’s gaze fell on the screen, the corner of his mouth curling into an intriguing smile. I remembered him. Earlier in the private room, his burning gaze had almost burned a hole through me. It’s normal for rich second-generation guys like Liam to have some shady friends, so I didn’t think much of it. I didn’t expect him to follow me. I stood on tiptoe, trying to snatch the phone from his hand, but he took the opportunity to press me against the railing. Surrounded by the unfamiliar scent of the man, with intimate sounds lingering in the air, my face instantly burned hot. Suddenly, the phone rang. The man glanced at it and answered, putting it to my ear. “I have an urgent matter at the company. You guys keep having fun. I’ll have the driver take you home when you’re done.” “Oh~——” I hurriedly covered my mouth, glaring fiercely at the man in front of me. He had taken advantage of my distraction to lift my shirt at the waist, and his palm landed on my skin.

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## My mom forced me to donate a kidney to the neighbor’s daughter. After a DNA test, she completely lost it. The neighbor’s daughter was gravely ill, and my mom insisted I give her a kidney. I was malnourished growing up—just drawing blood for a test felt like it could finish me off. But my mom’s response? “Why should I care if you die? Savannah is my real daughter!” That’s when I found out the truth. At birth, my mom had switched me with the daughter of our wealthy neighbors. I glanced over at the neighbor, expecting some shock or guilt. But no—she was calm, detached, like none of this mattered at all. I watched, helpless, as my mom signed the consent forms. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, my dad tied me down to the operating table, and my older brother picked up the scalpel himself. I didn’t have the strength to fight back, so I made one final request: a DNA test with my mom. She agreed, probably thinking it would shut me up for good. But after the surgery, I developed an infection and lost all memory of what happened. And her? She completely broke down.

When I opened my eyes, my mother was standing in front of me. I tried to move, but quickly realized my arms were tightly strapped to a hospital chair. Before I could even process what was happening, she spoke: “I’ve raised you for so many years. It’s time for you to repay me.” “I need you to save Savannah.” Panic gripped me. “Mom… what are you talking about?” A young male voice cut in: “She’s asking you to give your kidney to Savannah.” That voice—it was so familiar. I turned my head and saw him. Sure enough, it was my brother, James. “James?” My eyes immediately filled with tears. Growing up, he was the only one in the family who cared about me, the only person who treated me kindly. But now, the look on his face terrified me. It was cold, detached—like I was a stranger to him. I begged him, sobbing, “James, please untie me! I’m in so much pain! What do you mean, give up my kidney?!” “Savannah is sick,” he said flatly, “and she needs a healthy kidney. Yours is a match. You should be grateful you’re even useful for something.” As he spoke, he stepped back, standing protectively behind Savannah. That’s when I noticed them—Savannah and her mother were here too. A few months ago, Savannah had been diagnosed with a serious illness. Shortly after, my mom took me for a full physical exam. Even as a child, I always felt my mom hated me. But when it came to Savannah, the neighbor’s daughter, she treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world. A horrifying thought began to form in my mind. Would my mother really sacrifice me for someone else? I struggled to believe it. Desperately, I pleaded, “What does any of this have to do with me? I’m your daughter! How can you force me to do this?” James let out a bitter laugh, one that chilled me to my core. “You’re not my sister,” he said. “Savannah is.” “You’re just an imposter.” I froze. I understood every word he said, but my brain refused to make sense of them. What did he mean, Savannah was his sister? Savannah looked just as confused as I was. She turned to James, but he simply smiled at her, warm and gentle. Meanwhile, the nylon straps on my arms were cutting deeper into my skin. Blood was starting to seep out. But the pain in my heart was worse. Seeing James smile at her like that—it felt like a knife slicing me open. My mom stepped forward. “I didn’t want to say anything, but now that Savannah is sick, I have no choice.” She walked over to Savannah and took her hand, cradling it like it was the most delicate treasure in the world. “Savannah is my real daughter,” she said. “You? You’re the neighbor’s child. I swapped you at birth.” My mind went blank, my head buzzing like I’d been struck by lightning. I shook my head violently. “No… That’s impossible!” “Impossible?” my mom said coldly. “If you don’t believe me, I even recorded a video back then. I kept it for this very moment—to take Savannah back.” I broke down completely, screaming and crying, my voice raw with desperation. “Mom! Mom, I’m sorry! Did I do something wrong again? Please don’t abandon me! I am your daughter!” I was frantic, grasping at anything. “Mom, look at my hands! I’m bleeding! Please hold me—I’m in so much pain, Mom!” But she just stared at me, her expression filled with disgust and finality. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your mom.” “I’ve hated you since the day you were born. Every time I looked at you, I thought about Savannah. I hated you for taking her place!” I opened my mouth, my voice trembling. “But last night… you took me out for cake…” That cake—I’d dreamed of it for 20 years. And now, just as I’d finally had a taste, she was taking it all away. I collapsed to the floor, shaking with sobs. For 20 years, I’d been trying to warm my mother’s frozen heart. I thought I was finally getting through to her. But reality had struck me like a bolt from the blue. “So what?” she said, her voice icy. “You’ll never matter as much as Savannah.” “And besides, it’s just a kidney. I already asked the doctors—you won’t die from this.” Realizing there was no one left to help me, I turned desperately to Savannah. “Savannah, we grew up together! Please, you have to help me!” Savannah had always been kind and principled. Surely, she wouldn’t accept this. But in the very next moment, her words shattered my world.

“Mom, you’ve already taken so much from me. You owe me this—you have to save me this time!” A trembling, tearful voice shattered the last of my illusions. I turned, stunned, and saw Savannah struggling to stand from her wheelchair. She wobbled, unsteady, before collapsing into my mother’s arms. Only now did I get a good look at her. Despite her mother’s constant care, Savannah’s illness had ravaged her body. She looked frail and broken. I remembered how many times she’d told me she just wanted to live a normal, healthy life. And now, with an opportunity right in front of her that required no sacrifice on her part, of course she would seize it without hesitation. My brother, James, walked over and gently wrapped Savannah in his arms, soothing her like she was the most precious thing in the world. “I’m sorry, Savannah,” he said softly. “For all these years, I’ve been loving the wrong person.” “From now on, I’ll make it up to you.” My mom was already crying as she clung to Savannah. “I’m so sorry, my daughter… I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. I don’t care what it takes.” I watched as the small trickle of love I’d fought for over twenty years—all those fleeting moments of hope—was now gushing uncontrollably toward her. Suddenly, I felt a metallic taste rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I forced a bitter smile. For most people, donating a kidney might not be fatal. But for me? A girl my mother never loved, who grew up malnourished, weak, and neglected? My body was already broken. Losing a little extra blood was enough to put me in danger. I glanced at the three of them, holding each other like the perfect family. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Savannah’s mother—Mrs. Whitmore. She stood off to the side, detached, watching this absurd scene like it had nothing to do with her. She wasn’t crying over her daughter’s betrayal. She didn’t even seem to care that I might be her biological child. I turned to her, trembling, and asked, “Do you really not care at all?” “I might be your real daughter. Why won’t you save me?” She shrugged. “So what if you’re my biological child? What difference does it make?” “I’ve raised Savannah for twenty years. She is my daughter. If saving her means sacrificing you, I don’t mind.” I froze. So that’s what a mother’s love is supposed to look like. I lowered my head and blinked back the tears. Love, it seems, only flows toward those who already have it. For someone like me—abandoned by the world—I was nothing more than trash. But even trash clings to life. I gathered every ounce of strength I had and shouted at them, “You can’t do this! It’s illegal!” My mom didn’t flinch. “It doesn’t matter. Legally, I’m still your mother. I’ll sign the consent form for your kidney donation.”

Mrs. Whitmore raised her hand calmly. “I agree. Whether Savannah is mine by blood or not, I’ll always love her.” And just like that, the two of them handed me a death sentence without a second thought. I choked out, “Mom…” Even now, I couldn’t let go of the hope that she might feel something for me. That after all these years, there was some bond, however faint, between us. Maybe it was my desperate tone, but she finally turned around. For a moment, she didn’t move. James frowned and grabbed her wrist. She gently patted his hand before stepping toward me. Her eyes were red, and her voice trembled slightly. “Jessica,” she said, “Savannah is my flesh and blood. She’s my real daughter.” “For years, I’ve dreamed of her, loved her, waited for her. You have to give her your kidney.” She took a deep breath. “I asked the doctors. You won’t die. At worst, you’ll be unable to take care of yourself for a while.” “When you recover, I promise I’ll love you. I’ll make it up to you.” Twenty years of hope disintegrated into nothing. All I got in return was, You won’t die. I laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that echoed in the room. “I won’t survive this,” I whispered, almost to myself. “I’m going to die.” My mom’s face twisted in panic. “No! That’s impossible! Your brother will perform the surgery himself!” Even if James was the most skilled surgeon in the world, he couldn’t save someone who no longer wanted to live. My father, who had been silent the entire time, helped me up and secured me to the operating table like I was some animal being prepared for slaughter. James held the consent form in his hands. My mother quickly signed her name. I lay there, head turned to the side, watching helplessly as they prepared to wheel me into the operating room. I blinked at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. Then I forced a smile—one uglier than any cry. “I’ll do it,” I said. “Take my kidney, my life, whatever you want. But I have one condition.” James frowned. “What now? Are you still trying to fight this?” “Savannah suffered for twenty years because of you,” he snapped. “She’s the one who was robbed of her life with Mom. And you still think you have the right to ask for anything?” Suffered? Who had really suffered all these years? I hadn’t just been robbed of my family—I was being asked to wager my life to pay for it. All I wanted was one answer. My father sighed. “Let her have this. After everything, Jessica deserves to know.” “Fine,” my mom said coldly. “Let’s do the test. But after this, don’t ever call me your mother again.” I smiled faintly. Finally, after twenty years, I could let go of this hollow, one-sided love.

To increase the chances of a successful surgery, my brother deliberately didn’t give me enough anesthesia. I could feel the blade slicing through my skin, the scissors cutting through my tissue. The pain was excruciating. When people are scared, they instinctively cry out for their mom. I almost did too—until it hit me like a slap in the face: I didn’t have a mom anymore. My brother, James, raised an eyebrow and glanced at me with disgust. “Never thought you were a fake,” he sneered. “No wonder you never felt like family. All those years I cared about you—it was a complete waste!” His words were sharp, but I couldn’t be hurt anymore. My vision blurred as I stared at the ceiling, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Don’t be mad, James,” I said softly. “After this, I won’t call you my brother ever again.” He didn’t like that. His expression darkened, and he twisted the scalpel deliberately. Pain shot through me, making my whole body tremble and break out in cold sweat. “Good,” he growled, grinning smugly. “You don’t deserve to call me your brother.” The surgery felt endless. So long, in fact, that I started to wonder if I’d already died. Finally, James tied off the last suture. He tilted his head, looked down at me, and said with a smirk, “Lucky you. You made it.” I blinked slowly, the pain dulling into a cold numbness. “Thank you… Dr. Whitman,” I murmured. Something about the way I said it set him off. His face twisted in anger, and he slammed the scissors onto the tray before storming out of the room. From the operating table, I could hear the voices outside. My mom’s frantic voice broke through the indistinct chatter. “How’s Jessica? Is she okay?” James’s voice was dismissive. “The surgery was a success, but her body’s in terrible shape. She’s going to suffer for the rest of her life.” I heard my mom sigh in relief. “As long as she’s alive… that’s all that matters.” Then her tone changed, as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh, Mrs. Whitmore,” she said, turning to the neighbor, “she’s always wanted a mom. I’m giving her back to you now. You need to take good care of her!” Mrs. Whitmore didn’t even have a chance to respond. Suddenly, I started coughing violently, blood gushing out of my mouth in uncontrollable waves. The nurse working nearby froze in shock, dropping the instruments in her hands as she stumbled backward. Panic consumed the room. The nurse scrambled to her feet, tripping over herself as she rushed to the door and shouted at the top of her lungs: “Doctor, emergency! The patient’s bleeding out!” “And… and there’s signs of infection!” The moment the words left her mouth, James spun around in a panic. He sprinted back into the room, yelling my name as he ran. But my vision was fading fast. My pupils were dilating, the world around me growing darker and more distant. Outside, I heard my mom trying to push past the people holding her back, her voice trembling with fear. “What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?” The chaos in the room was overwhelming, and in the midst of it all, a nurse from the lab walked in, holding an envelope. She seemed completely oblivious to the scene, her voice cheerful as she announced, “Congratulations! The DNA test results are in—these two are confirmed to be mother and daughter!”

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After My Mom and I Met Our Deaths, They Were Driven Mad With Regret When my mom failed to win over my dad, she left me with a billion dollars. But after my boyfriend, Ronnie Douglas, repeatedly abandoned me for his true love, my heart finally broke. I turned my back on everything and bought a deserted island. “Ms. Gardner, you’ve successfully secured permanent private residency on this uninhabited island, along with a custom-designed partner service. He will love you unconditionally and remain forever loyal, the agent informed me.” On the day Ronnie went skydiving with his so-called true love, I vanished from the shore. From that moment on, I ceased to exist in this world. “Donald, have you forgotten? I told you that if you ever betrayed me, I would disappear from this world forever,” Brynlee Herring, my mom, cried, her voice breaking. My dad, Donald Gardner, however, looked utterly bored. “Enough! Systems, strategies, how many times have you spun the same lie over the years? Aren’t you tired of it? Irene is pure and innocent,” he replied. “She doesn’t care about my money, only about love. You still own half of Gardner Group, so what’s your problem?” My mom froze for a moment and then staggered back a few steps. “Her promises to you, you remember them clearly. But what about the ones you made to me?” “In this circle, who doesn’t keep a young, pretty one? The truth is, I’ve been too indulgent with you all these years!” With that, my dad stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I had always known that my mom was part of a system, a strategist. She had successfully completed her mission to win over my dad, choosing to stay in this world permanently. But the cost was clear. If he ever betrayed her, the system would erase her. And now, my dad was tired of my mom aging and losing her beauty. He was openly involved with Irene Costa, his secretary, who was two years younger than me. I couldn’t understand. They had spent decades together. How could everything change so suddenly? I held my mom as she collapsed in my arms, her strength gone. My eyes reddened with unshed tears. She suddenly smiled weakly, “Andrea, your dad will never understand. What kept me here was never the money.” That night, I returned to the villa with a heavy heart. Ronnie, drunk, greeted me by pulling me into a tight embrace. “Baby, you’ve been gone at your mom’s place for so long,” he murmured. “I missed you so much.” Feeling his arms around me, I touched the wedding ring on his hand, finding a sliver of comfort. Ronnie and I had been together since our school days, from uniforms to wedding gowns. We’d been married for three years. Everyone said he, as a cold and aloof heir in Joria, was utterly devoted to his wife. He handled everything personally, never once complaining. At auctions, he spent millions of dollars on jewelry as if it were nothing, just to light up my world. Morning and goodnight kisses were a constant ritual. When I was gravely ill and hospitalized, the man who never believed in God went to every church, praying to give up half his life for my recovery. He even cried when he saw me in my wedding dress. “Andrea, I finally get to marry you,” he whispered that day. He loved me deeply. The wedding ring I designed for him never left his finger, and he never allowed another woman near him. Before I could finish my shower that night, Ronnie burst in, wrapping his arms around me impatiently. His cool lips brushed my ear. “Andrea, help me,” he whispered. After an intense and passionate night, we fell asleep in each other’s arms. Ronnie, who usually stayed awake until I slept, dozed off quickly that night. But I couldn’t sleep, restless over everything that had happened earlier. “Judith… Judith…” Half-awake, I heard him murmur a name. My heart clenched instantly. That name had nothing to do with me.

At that moment, I looked at Ronnie’s phone lying next to his pillow and couldn’t resist picking it up. In all our years of marriage, I had never checked his phone. Quietly, I unlocked it with his fingerprint and was shocked to see the pinned chat at the top. It was with a girl. She looked a lot like me. Her Instagram location showed she had recently been in Andor. That was during the days I was visiting my parents, and Judith had just returned to the country. Suddenly, I recalled how Ronnie, always so composed, had inexplicably gotten drunk that night. When he murmured, “I miss you so much,” who was he really looking at through me? Tears fell unconsciously. He had fooled me and everyone else. Then, I found a folder in his phone containing a journal, all written about one person. Judith Mosley, his high school crush, the heiress to a wealthy conglomerate, his unreachable dream. Back then, Ronnie hadn’t yet inherited his family business, and when he confessed, Judith rejected him. Now, she was back and had reached out to him. She loved shopping at high-end stores. I created a fake account as a beauty store manager and added her. Judith didn’t suspect a thing. The next day, Ronnie still drove me to the design conference himself. In the audience, he sat in the front row as usual, watching me with admiration as I presented my work. The presentation ended with thunderous applause. Then, suddenly, something caught his attention. He stood abruptly, apologizing to me in haste. “Andrea, something urgent just came up. I’ll join you later.” Before I could clearly see the anxiety on his face, he had already left me behind. Looking down, I instinctively checked Judith’s Instagram. Five minutes ago, she had posted a tearful selfie with the caption that read, “It’s such a sunny day. I even made breakfast, but I dropped a plate and cut my hand. I feel so strangely calm. I just want to die.” Her makeup was flawless, her red-rimmed eyes against her pale face evoking pity. Thinking of Ronnie’s anxious expression just now, I tightened my grip on my phone. Still, I kept my composure and finished the day’s activities. Afterward, I didn’t return to the home I shared with Ronnie. I went back to my parents’ house instead. The moment I saw my mom, I couldn’t hold back anymore. Choking on tears, I said, “Mom, Ronnie… he has someone else.” It wasn’t even someone new, it was the love he never let go of. I was just a laughable substitute. Mom once told me that when she was young, she gambled everything on love, her life, and her belief in a man’s devotion. It was absurd. Back then, I didn’t understand her words, but now, I felt them in my bones. They were fighting over the phone again. Mom spoke calmly, “If you’ve fallen for someone else, let’s divorce.” But Dad only thought she was threatening him. “Brynlee, you just want to take half of my wealth and leave. Listen, unless you walk away with nothing, it’ll never happen!” The line went dead abruptly, leaving Mom with a bitter smile. “See? Men are all the same. Andrea, maybe neither of us needs to stay with them anymore.” I felt my heart shatter into pieces. “Mom, is there really no way to save the price we’ve paid?” She chuckled softly and shook her head. “In three days, I’ll leave this place.” Mom told me she had accumulated millions of points over the years from her missions, converting them into real-world money, a billion dollars. She had already transferred it all into my private account. “The freedom I couldn’t have in my lifetime, I hope my baby can have instead,” she said. I held her tightly, sobbing uncontrollably.

The system gave Mom one month. If she could make Dad change his mind within that month, she could avoid the fate of being erased. But Mom firmly refused. Her feelings for Dad had completely died. She didn’t want to cater to him, not even a little. Dad took his young secretary to Mangria for business, but I saw on Irene’s social media that their location was tagged on Santo Island. They were clearly out there enjoying themselves, hiking and sightseeing, with no word from them. On the day Dad left, he never came home. I stayed by Mom’s side until dawn, watching as her breathing slowed and stopped. Her warmth faded bit by bit in my hands. Tears blurred my vision. That night, after Mom passed, I called Ronnie, my voice choked with emotion. “Hello?” There was no immediate reply, just the sound of his labored breathing. I knew that sound all too well. Ronnie only breathed like that when he was making love. After a long pause, he finally sighed and said, “Babe, I know you’re hurting, but I really can’t leave right now. Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I’ll be there to help you make all the arrangements for your mom.” Then, the call ended abruptly. When I tried calling Dad, it was the same busy signal. Holding back my grief, I made all the arrangements with the hospital and the funeral home on my own. Later, I saw Ronnie’s chat logs with Judith. She told him she had severe depression and thought about ending her life every day. This trip back home was, she said, to spend time with him and check off 100 things she wanted to experience before she died. She had sent him a long, detailed list, including talking with someone all night, drinking until blackout drunk, watching the sunset on an island, making love seven times in one night with someone she loved, going skydiving… Ronnie had promised her with utmost sincerity. [Judith, I’ll help you fulfill every item on your list. I just hope, after completing these 100 things, you’ll find the courage to keep living.] Her 100th wish was to wear a wedding dress and hold a wedding with her one true love. Tonight, they were probably working on the third item. I spent that night alone at the funeral home, keeping vigil over Mom. I watched as she was reduced to ashes. But my mind was startlingly clear. By the time I left, the sky had fully brightened. I received a call from the contact I had reached out to a while ago. “Ms. Gardner, congratulations. You’ve secured permanent private residency on this uninhabited island, along with a custom-designed partner service. It will be activated once you arrive.” Using the money Mom left me, I spent 100 million dollars creating a private island for myself. On this deserted island, no one would ever find me again. If no one in this world loved me, then I would love myself. “Alright, I’ll head over as soon as I’m done here.” Outside the funeral home, I finally saw Ronnie rushing toward me. He noticed my red, swollen eyes and pulled me into his arms with a pained expression. “Andrea, I’m so sorry. I came back too late. How could Brynlee pass away so suddenly?” In his hurry, Ronnie hadn’t noticed that he still smelled faintly of another woman’s perfume, a detail someone as careful as him would never usually overlook. I stood there, cold and unmoved. These hypocritical people and their lies disgusted me. What Ronnie didn’t know was that soon, Andrea Gardner would no longer exist in this world.

After I finished my mother’s funeral, it happened to be our third wedding anniversary. Ronnie said he wanted to take me on a vacation to help me relax, back to the beach where we had our honeymoon. These past few days, he stayed by my side day and night, just like when we first fell in love. Ronnie held my hand gently, looking down to kiss my fingers. “I’ve chartered a plane, Andrea. I hope you can move on. I hate seeing you this upset.” His words sounded full of affection, but I could only laugh bitterly inside. Why pretend to care when he had already fallen for someone else? Before boarding the plane, I thought this would be our last trip together. When we landed, Ronnie walked with me along the beach, smiling, “Andrea, remember? This is where I proposed to you.” I nodded, my tone flat. “I remember. It’s just not the same as it used to be.” His face stiffened, and his expression turned uneasy. “Different? What do you mean by that?” A sharp pain stabbed at my heart. I wanted to ask him, when he knelt to propose, pretending to love me, had he ever meant it, even for a moment? Before I could speak, someone in a uniform called out to him. “Mr. Douglas, your assistant said there’s an urgent email that needs your response.” My gaze shifted to the woman wearing a baseball cap. Her strikingly beautiful face held an unmistakable hint of smugness. I recognized her immediately. It was Judith. Ronnie pinned the chat with her at the top. Ronnie frowned. “Can’t you see I’m with my wife? What could possibly be so urgent?” Judith feigned nervousness, her voice trembling. “It’s critical. If it’s delayed any longer, it’ll be too late.” He turned to me, squeezing my hand nervously. “Andrea, why don’t you wander around? I’ll handle this quickly.” I responded lightly, “Alright. I’ll head back on my own later.” As Ronnie walked away, I quietly followed him. Under a banana tree, he caught up with Judith and pulled her into his arms. “Judith, why did you have to be here? I’m only keeping my distance because I have no choice.” Judith leaned into him her tone playful. “Ronnie, didn’t you promise to help me complete the fourth task? Don’t go back on your word!” “Don’t show up in front of my wife again. I’ve arranged everything. Tomorrow, we’ll go skydiving.” “I’ll do whatever you say. But right now, there’s something more urgent…” He playfully tapped her nose, and they laughed as they headed into a secluded pavilion. I stood outside, listening to their laughter and whispers of lovemaking. Though I had already decided to leave, my heart still ached bitterly. I looked up, wiped away my tears, and told myself this would be the last time I cried for him. When I was back at the hotel, his assistant avoided my gaze. “Mrs. Douglas, Mr. Douglas has been busy… Would you like to rest in your room?” So, they all knew. Everyone but me. I nodded indifferently. Whether Ronnie was truly busy or spending time with Judith didn’t matter anymore. The next morning, Ronnie looked rushed and apologized. “Andrea, there’s another emergency at work. I need to attend a video call.” “Go ahead,” I said, interrupted with a smile before he could finish. Ronnie hesitated his smile awkward. “Why don’t you go snorkeling with the instructor? I’ll join you tonight.” I looked at him quietly and let out a soft laugh. I thought, “No more waiting. Never again.” Ronnie seemed inexplicably uneasy. Even he didn’t notice it, but the feeling quickly vanished as he stood up and hurried out of the hotel. While he and Judith went skydiving, I stood alone at the edge of the tallest cliff by the sea. The wind carried the wild grass, leaving no trace behind. The place was remote, but the security cameras would capture everything. Staring at the abyss with the deep ocean below, I closed my eyes and leaped into it.

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On my birthday, I had a brain tumor attack. My vision blurred, my thoughts scattered. While the doctors worked to stabilize me, they picked up my phone to call my family. My wife answered, her tone sharp and impatient: “Why are you so annoying? Are you seriously checking up on me again? I’m about to board a flight to Florence with Tim—don’t call me unless it’s an emergency!” Then my daughter’s voice chimed in, casual and carefree: “Honestly, if he dies, that’d be great. The insurance payout can go straight to my account. My boyfriend’s been eyeing a new motorcycle.” Hearing that, I didn’t feel angry. Strangely, I felt… relieved. Maybe it was finally time to leave this miserable life behind. When I opened my eyes again, the doctor handed me my phone, his expression grim. “Mr. Carter, the tumor is pressing against your nerves. You need surgery immediately. You should discuss this with your family.” Still groggy, I held the phone loosely in my hand. The emergency room was silent except for the faint hum of machines. I could feel the pity radiating from the other patients and their families. Some even turned away, discreetly wiping their tears. I glanced at my phone screen—my wife, Monica, and my daughter, Julia, had already blocked me. With no other choice, I sent a message to someone I thought I’d never contact: Monica’s first love, Tim. “Please let Monica know she needs to come back. It’s urgent.” To avoid any misunderstandings, I added: “I want to talk to her about filing for divorce. It’s important.” After spending a few hours recovering at the hospital, I picked up my prescription and headed home. When I walked through the door, Monica was already seated on the couch. She was dressed for vacation: oversized sunglasses perched on her nose, a wide-brimmed straw hat on her head, and a breezy bohemian maxi dress that swayed with every movement. The moment she saw me, she let out a sharp laugh and slammed her sunglasses onto the coffee table. “Seriously? What’s your deal now? Tim and I were at the airport, about to board, and you dragged me back here for this nonsense. God, no wonder Julia finds you insufferable!” At 45, Monica had fine lines around her eyes, but with her impeccable skincare routine, her skin was still taut, her makeup flawless. Her bold red lipstick and voluminous waves made her look far younger than her age. Behind her, Tim stood dutifully, massaging her shoulders. He leaned down, murmuring in her ear with an intimacy that made my stomach twist. “Monica, calm down,” he said softly. “Let’s hear what Carter has to say. Maybe it’s actually important.” Tim, of course, still carried himself like the gentleman he once was. Despite the stiffness in his Botoxed face, his tailored designer suit gave him an air of sophistication. I stared at them and felt… nothing. My mind drifted back to the day Monica forgot Julia’s third birthday cake. She’d been too distracted by Tim’s unexpected return to the country. Later, when I picked up a drunken Monica from a bar, I overheard her telling her friends how I was just a stand-in for Tim. Now, my graying hair and tired face bore no resemblance to the man she once loved. Snapping back to the present, I pulled out the divorce papers and placed them on the table. “Monica,” I said evenly, “let’s get a divorce.” Her eyes flew open in disbelief, her body going rigid as if she hadn’t heard me correctly. “What?” she spat, her voice rising. “First, you fake being sick to get me back from the airport, and now you’re throwing a tantrum about divorce? Carter, you’re almost fifty years old. When are you going to grow up?” Her words stung, but I stayed calm. Yes, I was turning 49 today. If she’d gone into the kitchen, she would’ve seen the half-prepped ingredients I’d been cutting before the tumor attack—ingredients for dishes she and Julia loved. But when I collapsed, there wasn’t a single family member around to notice. There was no point sharing these thoughts, though. Monica would just call me dramatic and clingy. People say the dying speak only the truth. I had no intention of arguing. Instead, I smiled faintly. “It’s nothing,” I said quietly. “I just had an epiphany. There’s no point holding you back from Tim anymore.” Her eyes narrowed, but I continued. “Last month, when you and Tim went to Alaska to see the northern lights, you probably didn’t hear that my mom passed away.” Her lips parted slightly, but I didn’t let her interrupt. “My dad died saving you from drowning all those years ago, and my mom pressured you into marrying me to repay that debt. I know that was unfair to you. You’ve always wanted to be with Tim.” I gestured vaguely at the room around us. “For the past twenty years, I’ve worked tirelessly at your company to help it go public. That was my way of paying you back for everything my mom put you through.” I took a deep breath, my tone softening. “She’s gone now. You don’t have to worry about her showing up at the office to yell at you or make a scene. You’re free, Monica.” “For what it’s worth, I wish you and Tim the best. You’ve waited long enough—give him the life he deserves.” The weight I’d carried for years lifted as I spoke those words. Monica, however, clenched the divorce papers in her hands, her knuckles whitening. Her voice trembled as she said, “I’ve put up with you for over twenty years. What about Julia? Have you even thought about how she’ll feel about this?” Julia’s voice echoed in my head: “If he dies, that’d be great.” I smiled faintly. “She’ll be fine,” I replied, nodding toward Tim. “She likes him more than me anyway. Let him take care of her.” Years ago, when Julia was little, Monica had already started relying on Tim to help with parenting duties. She’d spent years building up his image in Julia’s eyes, ensuring he’d be her favorite. Now, I was just giving them what they wanted. But instead of looking pleased, Monica’s face darkened. She bit her lip so hard it looked like she might draw blood. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to compose herself, her gaze locked on me, searching for the anger or jealousy I’d always shown in the past. But this time, all she saw was indifference. Her voice dropped, cold and sharp: “Fine. You want a divorce? Then you’re leaving with nothing. No house, no money. Nothing.” She stared at me, confident I’d back down. After all, she’d spent years mocking me, calling me a gold-digger who married her for her family’s wealth. She’d always believed I’d never leave because I couldn’t survive without her money. But I simply nodded. “That’s fine,” I said. “I don’t need the house, the money, or even Julia.”

Monica hadn’t said a word yet, but Tim, standing silently beside her, broke into a wide grin, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “Carter, I didn’t expect you to be this enlightened. Honestly, I should thank you for taking care of Monica all these years. Don’t worry—moving forward, I’ll take great care of her and your daughter.” Monica acted as if she hadn’t heard him. Her hand gripped the pen so tightly her knuckles turned white. Then, out of nowhere, she snapped. “Twenty years, Carter. Twenty years, and you pull this stunt now? What’s the point of all this? Can’t you just let things end peacefully?” She leaned forward, her voice sharp and cutting. “And what do you think happens after the divorce? Do you seriously believe I’ll let you stay at the company? A fifty-year-old man with no connections—what company would even take you? At least as my husband, you could live comfortably off our family’s wealth. But now? What’s your plan, huh?” Her words, meant to sting, didn’t faze me in the slightest. I gave a small, self-deprecating smile. She was right—our daughter was old enough to be married. What was the point of me kicking up a fuss now? Years ago, I used every resource I had—every favor, every ounce of credit—to bargain with the system for the chance to live a lifetime in this world. The system had warned me, its tone clinical: “You only get one shot at this. I have other hosts to assist. Once I leave, there’s no turning back. If you regret it later, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.” At the time, I wasn’t thinking about the consequences. My arms were wrapped around Monica, who was holding our newborn daughter. I was drunk on happiness, so much so that I’d promised with absolute certainty, “I’ll never regret it.” But that was before Tim returned. Before he destroyed the fragile illusion of our perfect life. What I thought was happiness turned out to be nothing but a mirage. Years ago, I’d considered leaving Monica. I even brought it up once, but our daughter had clung to my leg, sobbing, begging us not to divorce. My mother scolded me then, too: “You don’t know how lucky you are. As long as your name is on the marriage certificate, Tim can cause all the drama he wants, but it won’t affect your inheritance.” I stayed, telling myself I was doing it for Julia. For my mother. But I wasn’t happy. I felt smothered. This time, though, the brain tumor changed everything. Monica and Julia’s indifference, their coldness—it set me free. Snapping out of my thoughts, I looked at Monica and replied, my voice calm: “Monica, my life after this has nothing to do with you. Unless… are you actually concerned about me now?” I knew she hated it when I acted like this—calm, detached, and impossible to provoke. Sure enough, her face twisted as if she’d swallowed something bitter. She stared at me, disgusted, then snatched up the pen and scribbled her name onto the divorce papers. “Fine,” she spat. “But don’t come crawling back later, crying and begging for another chance. You’re not stepping foot in the company again.” With that, she grabbed Tim by the arm and stormed out, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. The house fell silent once again. I sat on the couch, staring at the home I’d lived in for over twenty years. Every piece of furniture, every decoration, was etched into my memory. Yet, I felt like a stranger here—as if I’d always been just a guest. After a while, hunger pulled me out of my daze. I went to the kitchen and tossed out the half-prepped ingredients: beef, lamb, salmon—all the things Monica and Julia loved. Then, I boiled a simple pot of noodles for myself. The noodles were plain, seasoned with nothing but a pinch of salt and oil. As I ate, I thought back to the early days of my marriage. Monica had been a spoiled heiress, completely unfamiliar with housework. Yet, for my birthday, she’d insisted on making me a bowl of noodles, tying an apron over her designer dress and covering herself in flour. She’d burned her hand in the process, but she’d brushed off the injury, laughing as she urged me to eat. “Eat up,” she’d said. “Longevity noodles for a long, happy life.” The noodles had been terrible—thick and undercooked, the broth far too salty—but I ate every bite, convinced that Monica was my forever. Now, her youthful face was just a blur in my memory. A sharp pain shot through my head, pulling me back to the present. I grabbed the painkillers the doctor had prescribed and swallowed them dry. When the pain subsided, I washed the dishes, dried my hands, and pulled out a suitcase to start packing. It didn’t take long—most of the belongings in the house were Monica’s or Julia’s. Once I finished, I went to the closet and retrieved an old chest I’d hidden away for years. Inside were all the things I’d once cherished: Ticket stubs from dates with Monica. Our wedding photos. A tie clip she’d given me as a gift. Julia’s childhood drawings, her handwritten notes from school—all carefully preserved in plastic sleeves. I carried the chest to the backyard, setting it on the firepit Monica and Tim used for their fancy dinner parties. Then, without hesitation, I lit a match and watched the flames consume everything. The firelight flickered across my face, but I felt nothing. Suddenly, rain began to fall, snuffing out the fire in an instant. I glanced down at the charred remains of the chest. Most of it had turned to ash. I didn’t bother inspecting it further. Afterward, I deactivated all my social media accounts and deleted my contacts. I’d always been a drifter, a man with no roots. Now, I was erasing myself entirely from Monica and Julia’s world. Once my suitcase was packed, I drove to the office to hand off my responsibilities and clear out my desk. As I packed up my things, my coworkers stopped by, their faces full of admiration. “Carter, I can’t believe you’re retiring already! Monica must really adore you to let you step down so early. We’re all jealous!” “Yeah, if I had a wife and kid like yours, I’d retire early too. Enjoy life, man.” I forced a smile, saying nothing. None of them knew the truth. Over the years, Monica had built the image of a perfect marriage for the sake of the company. Publicly, we were the model couple—attending charity galas, buying luxury cars, and flaunting our wealth. But every gift she “bought” for me ended up in Tim’s hands. And I had to play along, pretending to be modest and frugal while she showered him with everything I’d supposedly been given. As I carried my files out of the office, I overheard the HR manager giving instructions to a team. “Get the new VP’s office ready,” he said, glancing at me briefly. “Make sure it’s perfect. Monica’s bringing in someone new.” Curious, one of the employees asked, “Who’s the new VP?” The HR manager smirked slightly, then revealed a nameplate: “Vice President: Tim Evans.”

Everyone around me stared in shock, but I simply smirked, a self-deprecating curve tugging at my lips. For years, I’d been stuck using the oldest, most outdated equipment in the company. Every time the company upgraded its tech, I’d submit a request for a new computer. And every time, Monica would reject it with a frown. “Why are you so vain?” she’d say. “Your old computer still works, doesn’t it? Stop being wasteful.” But when it came to Tim, she never settled for less. Anything he wanted, she gave him in full—except for her last name. Once upon a time, the blatant disparity in how she treated us would’ve made my blood boil. It might’ve even broken my heart. But not anymore. Now, all I could feel was a strange sense of detachment, perhaps even amusement. Monica couldn’t wait to help Tim rise to the top. This was what true love looked like, wasn’t it? Shaking off the thought, I nodded at the HR manager, turned on my heel, and walked away from the company I had devoted my life to. After leaving the office, I drove to a funeral supply store. I figured if I was going to die, I might as well do it with a little dignity. The clerk showed me the options, but my funds were limited. Most of my money had already gone to prepay the mortician for handling my body when the time came. So I settled for the cheapest burial suit they had. Clutching the suit in my arms, I stepped out of the store, only to hear the roar of a motorcycle speeding past. The exhaust fumes choked me, making me cough. A few seconds later, the bike circled back and skidded to a stop in front of me. From the backseat, a girl hopped off—a teenager with smoky makeup, a crop top, and an attitude to match. It was Julia. She sauntered over, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Well, well, look who’s still alive. Hurry up and transfer me ten grand. My boyfriend wants a new bike.” Her words were like a slap to the face, but I forced myself to stay calm. “I don’t have any money,” I said flatly. Julia rolled her eyes, her heavily made-up face twisting in disbelief. “Yeah, right. You’re broke? Please. Mom would never leave you without money.” Her voice was filled with scorn. And why wouldn’t she think that? To outsiders, I was the epitome of a kept man—a trophy husband in a wealthy family. But the truth was far less glamorous. Monica never trusted me with money. My salary went directly into her account, and every expense—no matter how small—had to be approved by her. Even when I needed a pack of cigarettes, she’d insist I buy the cheapest brand. To make ends meet, I took on side gigs to scrape together a little extra cash. When I was diagnosed with the tumor, I brought the medical bills to Monica and asked for help. Her reaction? She accused me of scamming her, called me a liar, and demanded to know why I thought she’d hand over ten grand as if her money grew on trees. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, she locked me in the house to “reflect on my behavior” and took Tim on a private flight to Alaska to see the northern lights. While I was locked up, my mother passed away. I never got to see her one last time. When I heard the news, my relatives told me she’d died with tears streaming down her face, cursing me for being a selfish son who had married an even more selfish wife. The memory still stung, but I forced it down and focused on the girl in front of me. Julia smirked, clearly enjoying the situation. “Fine,” she said, flipping her hair. “If you’re not giving me money, I’ll just ask Uncle Tim. He’s way better than you—rich, handsome, and actually fun to be around.” Her words didn’t hurt me. Not anymore. I stared at her for a moment, wondering how the sweet girl I’d raised had turned into… this. When Tim first came back into our lives, Monica had all but abandoned us. I became both mom and dad, pouring everything I had into raising Julia. She used to be on my side, throwing icy glares and sharp words at Monica and Tim. But everything changed when she turned 17. She fell for a dropout with bleached hair—a boy who dragged her into his chaotic world. She dropped out of school, started skipping curfews, and regularly demanded money from me. I tried to stop her, to pull her back onto the right path. But one day, when I confronted her boyfriend, he showed up with a group of his friends and beat me within an inch of my life. And Julia? She stood on the sidelines, cheering them on. “Toughen up, old man!” she’d yelled. “Learn your lesson!” After that, something in me broke. I stopped trying to save her. Later, when I was recovering from my injuries, she showed up, all smiles and apologies. She promised to make it up to me, even offering to spend my birthday with me. I waited all day for her. Instead, I saw a video Tim posted on social media. In it, Julia was at a lavish dinner, hugging Tim’s arm and giggling as she said, “Happy vacation, Dad! Hope you and Mom have an amazing time in Florence!” Then she accepted a fat red envelope from him with a bright, grateful smile. I’d been in the kitchen preparing dinner when I saw the post. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, my head pounding, the tumor finally catching up with me. Now, standing in front of her again, I felt… nothing. I let out a small sigh and said, “Go ahead. Ask Tim for the money.” Then, after a pause, I added: “Oh, and by the way, your mom and I are divorced now. You can stop calling him Uncle Tim. Just call him Dad—it suits him better.”

Julia froze, staring at me with wide eyes. Her fingers twisted the hem of her shirt as her face flushed with embarrassment. “How did you know…?” she stammered, before quickly shifting to defiance. “It’s your fault anyway! You’re so stingy! Every time I ask for money, you drag your feet, so I had no choice but to ask him! At least he understands me—he knows what real love is!” Her defiance turned to scorn as she crossed her arms, giving me a once-over. “You’re lying about the divorce, right? You think I’d actually believe you? Stop pretending.” Her eyes fell on the package in my hands, her expression shifting to curiosity. “What’s that ugly thing you’re holding? Is it… clothes?” Before I could answer, her boyfriend—a bleached-haired punk with a cigarette dangling from his lips—rested a hand on her shoulder and squinted at the package. “Wait a second… isn’t that a burial suit? Someone in your family kick the bucket?” The words hung in the air as Julia stepped forward, reaching for the package. “Well, let me see for myself! What kind of stunt are you pulling now?” I frowned and instinctively pushed her back. Caught off guard, she stumbled and fell to the ground with a thud. From her pocket, a small card slipped out. I bent down and picked it up. It was an ID card. The photo was hers, but the name read: Julia Evans. For a moment, I felt like the world had gone silent. Then the pain started—a sharp, unbearable ache in my head. When Julia was born, Monica had a severe hemorrhage. I was terrified I’d lose them both, so I insisted Julia take Monica’s last name as a way to honor her survival. Years later, when my relationship with Monica soured, Julia had come to me more than once, begging to adopt my last name instead. She’d said she wanted nothing to do with her selfish mother. But now… At some point, she had willingly chosen to take Tim’s last name instead. I clutched my head as my vision blurred. The doctor had warned me this would happen—that the tumor would eventually press on my nerves, causing vision problems, memory loss, even cognitive decline. How pathetic I was now, I thought bitterly. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push back the darkness. When I opened them again, I could see Julia snatching the ID card from my hand and shoving it into her pocket, her movements frantic. “Don’t get mad!” she said, her voice rushing out in a jumbled explanation. “I just thought Uncle Tim was really pitiful, you know? He’s getting older and has no kids of his own. It’s just a name change—it doesn’t mean anything! I’m still your daughter. Isn’t it nice to have two dads who love me?” She glanced at my face, her confidence wavering as she noticed my expression. “What’s wrong with you now?” she asked, frowning. “Don’t tell me you’re pretending to go blind again. No wonder Mom doesn’t like you—you act like a child, always faking illnesses to get attention.” I didn’t reply. I simply shook my head, brushing past her as I walked away. She hesitated, as if she wanted to say something more, but she didn’t follow me. By the time I left, the pounding in my head had subsided somewhat. I took the bus to my childhood home—it wasn’t far, just on the outskirts of town. The building was old, its walls stained with years of neglect. Dust coated every surface, and the air smelled faintly of mildew. This was where I’d grown up, before Monica had taken us in after my father drowned saving her life. I hadn’t been back in years. Now, the place felt like a tomb. I cleaned off the bed, shut the windows tightly, and locked the door. Then, I opened the gas canister I’d brought with me, letting the sharp scent of natural gas fill the room. Calmly, I changed into the burial suit I’d bought earlier and lay down on the bed, positioning myself so the mortician could find me easily. As I settled in, my phone buzzed. I considered ignoring it, but out of habit, I answered. Monica’s impatient voice came through the line. “Carter, where are you? There’s a dinner party tonight, and you need to be there. I’m giving you thirty minutes to get ready.” Her tone was sharp, like I was nothing more than an inconvenience. I replied evenly, “I won’t make it. I’m about to die.” There was a loud crash on the other end, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Then Monica’s voice, shrill and angry: “Carter, what the hell is wrong with you? Stop saying such unlucky things!” Before I could respond, I heard Tim’s voice in the background, calm and calculated as always. “Monica, maybe Carter just can’t handle the divorce. If he’s really that upset, why don’t you take him back? I don’t mind—I’ll always be here to support you.” Classic Tim. Playing the martyr, always angling for sympathy. And Monica, blind as ever, never saw through his act. Just as I expected, her anger flared. “Carter, don’t you dare use this to guilt me! Do you think I’m asking you to come because I want to? The CEO specifically requested you, or I wouldn’t have bothered. Fine, don’t come. And while you’re at it, don’t bother coming home either. Don’t expect to see Julia again, either!” She hung up, leaving me in silence once more. I exhaled slowly, my grip on the phone loosening until it fell to the floor. The gas filled the room, thick and suffocating. My limbs grew heavy, my vision darkening. The doctor had said that the end would feel like drifting off to sleep. But this wasn’t peaceful. I could feel every second of my body shutting down, every painful gasp for air. My face felt swollen, my skin tight. It’s fine, I told myself. It’ll all be over soon. Death, I thought, was like a quiet summer night—eerily serene. I could hear the faint hiss of the gas, a sound that seemed almost soothing. Thank God I’d hired someone to handle my body. Otherwise, I might have rotted here for weeks without anyone noticing. But just as I was surrendering to the darkness, the door burst open with a deafening crash. Someone had kicked it in. An uninvited guest had arrived.

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I never thought I’d witness my own wedding from a hospital window, but fate has a cruel sense of humor. As I stood there, my restored vision hidden from the world, I watched the woman I loved marry another man. This is the story of how I, Liam Anderson, went from being a devoted fiancé to a man planning his own tragic exit. It all began three months ago when Chloe Sullivan, my girlfriend and the heiress to a vast fortune, was involved in a car accident. In a desperate attempt to save her, I sacrificed my eyesight. Little did I know, this act of love would unveil a web of lies that had been woven around me for years. As I lay in the hospital, supposedly blind, Chloe showered me with expensive gifts. One day, she brought me a watch worth millions. However, I overheard her childhood sweetheart, Gabriel Thompson, swapping it for a fake. “He’s blind anyway,” Gabriel whispered to Chloe. “What’s the difference between real and fake to him?” To my shock, Chloe, who had always professed her undying love for me, didn’t object. She even put the counterfeit watch on my wrist, assuring me, “Don’t worry, I’ll never leave you. We’ll get married next month on the 15th. I’ve invited the media to witness our happiness.” I smiled silently. What Chloe didn’t know was that I had regained my sight through a mysterious power I possessed. I had also set in motion a plan to leave this world. On our wedding day, instead of a groom, she would find my lifeless body. The nurse, who had witnessed everything, tried to comfort me. “Mr. Anderson, you’re so lucky to have such a loving wife.” If only she knew the truth. Everyone believed that Chloe Sullivan was madly in love with me. She, a wealthy heiress, had publicly pursued me for seven years before I finally gave in. Our love story was the talk of the town, inspiring envy in many. I remembered a time when I had slept through her calls, and she had launched a nationwide search for me, making headlines. When she found me, she collapsed into my arms, crying and demanding that I never leave her sight again. People said the Sullivan heiress was truly devoted. I believed it too, and her passion had touched me deeply. To repay her love, I, a man with extraordinary abilities, chose to stay by her side instead of returning to my own world. I helped her secure her family’s assets and become a true powerhouse in the business world. I even became her personal bodyguard, ready to sacrifice everything for her safety. When I lost my sight, I didn’t care. To better protect and care for her, I made a deal with my power source, trading twenty years of my life for the return of my vision. But before I could share this good news with her, I witnessed Gabriel Thompson, her former flame, standing by her side. During the three months I was supposedly blind, he had been by Chole’s side every day, even daring to swap out my gifts in front of me. What I couldn’t understand was why Chloe, who saw everything, allowed his behavior… As I pondered this, Chloe’s best friend, Mia Lewis, entered the room. She glanced at me lying in bed and said with a smile, “Chloe really loves you. She’s rushing me to process the stock transfer she promised you.” She carelessly tossed the documents to me, then quickly changed her expression and started communicating with Chloe using lip-reading, her face full of contempt: “Chloe, you’re not really going to marry this blind man, are you? Everyone in our circle knows you only pursued him so fervently to make Gabriel jealous and come back to you. Now that Gabriel’s back by your side, how long do you plan to keep playing this game? Don’t tell me you’re planning to string them both along?” Chloe’s face darkened as she silently mouthed back, “What’s done is done. I can’t change the past. I’ve genuinely fallen in love with Liam, and he’s the only one I’ll ever call my husband. Don’t you dare bring this up again. If Liam finds out the truth, your family’s days of leeching off us will be over.” Mia fell silent, not daring to say more. The Sullivan family’s influence was vast, and with my help, Chloe had secured control of the family business. Mia’s family was merely riding on the Sullivans’ coattails. Gabriel, standing to the side, flashed a look of regret before quickly changing the subject. “Let’s stop talking. It’s too quiet; what if Liam suspects something?” Chloe snapped out of her daze and composed herself. She took my hand and asked softly, as she always did, “Liam, do you like this gift?” The stock transfer document for 5% of Sullivan Corp. was something Chloe had promised me in front of the media when I was being transferred to another hospital. At the time, I found it strange. Over the years, she had given me many things but never money. When I asked why, she would just smile and say she was afraid I’d change if I had money. When she finally promised me the stocks, I had jokingly asked, “What’s this? You’re not afraid I’ll turn bad anymore, Mrs. Sullivan?” Chloe had hugged me tightly and said with deep affection, “Silly, you were willing to give up your life for me. What do I have to worry about?” Back then, my heart had raced with excitement. I thought Chloe’s love for me had deepened, and I was more determined than ever to spend the rest of my life with her. But now, as I looked at the contract, I saw that while it did transfer 5% of Sullivan Corp., the beneficiary listed was Gabriel Thompson. I let go of the contract and smiled bitterly. It seemed that what I thought was a perfect love was nothing but a sham. The money, her love – it was all fake. Seeing my lack of enthusiasm, Chloe assumed I was struggling with my blindness. She cupped my face gently, as she often did, and said soothingly, “Don’t be sad. You can be discharged today. I’ll take you to try on your wedding suit. At our wedding in fifteen days, I’ll make sure the whole world witnesses our happiness.” For the first time, I didn’t respond to her enthusiastically. I simply took off the fake watch in silence. And quietly, I submitted a request to my power source to return home. The system quickly came online and replied: “Dear user, as you have missed the optimal time to leave this world, if you wish to depart now, you must die in a tragic manner.” Without hesitation, I agreed. Even though there was nothing worth remembering in my own world, I couldn’t bear to see Chloe’s false face any longer. The system informed me that my departure time would be in fifteen days. As I was pondering this coincidental timing, Chloe anxiously spoke up, “If you don’t like the watch, I can get you something else.” Another fake gift? I shook my head and declined, “No need. I don’t want anything anymore.” Hearing this, Chloe’s heart skipped a beat. She had an uneasy feeling, sensing that my words seemed to be about more than just the watch. She hugged me tightly, clinging to my warmth. Gabriel, watching this scene, turned red with envy and reminded her, “Ms. Sullivan, the staff have been waiting for a long time. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late.” Only then did Chloe reluctantly let go of me and start packing to take me out of the hospital. As she comforted and chatted with me while packing, she still managed to hold hands with Gabriel. I turned my head numbly to look out the window. So, Chloe’s heart was big enough to accommodate two people at once. The car ride was silent. Due to my eye condition, Chloe had to hold the wedding in the yard of her villa. Although the wedding was only in its early stages of preparation, it was clear that Chloe had put a lot of thought into it. The staff were all waiting, directing us through a rehearsal. Chloe led me onto the stage, while Gabriel stood between us, acting as the officiant with a microphone in hand. “Mr. Liam Anderson, do you take Ms. Chloe Sullivan to be your lawfully wedded wife, for richer or for poorer…” He finished reciting the vows passionately, and along with everyone present, waited for me to say “I do.” But I remained silent. Chloe couldn’t help but tug at my clothes twice. Even the staff were about to come forward to prompt me when suddenly, the newly built stage collapsed. “Watch out!” Chloe shouted, but she pushed me towards the collapsing structure while rushing to protect Gabriel. I was hit and covered in blood, while Gabriel remained unscathed. Looking at Chloe, who was willing to risk her life to protect him even in danger, Gabriel’s eyes filled with emotion. He couldn’t hold back anymore and shouted: “You clearly love me more, why won’t you give me another chance?” Chloe snapped back to reality at his outburst. She quickly let go of Gabriel’s hand and hurried over to me, anxiously asking, “Liam, are you okay? I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” She helped the staff lift me up, and upon seeing my head injury, she berated the workers furiously. The staff members lowered their heads, accepting the scolding. After her tirade, Chloe hugged me tightly and choked out, “It’s okay now. I’ll never let you get hurt again.” If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I would have believed from her voice alone that I was the only one in her heart. But now, looking at her hypocritical demeanor, I felt nothing but disgust. I was willing to die for her, yet she pushed me, the “blind man,” into danger to save Gabriel. While there were indeed safety issues at the site, I wouldn’t have been injured if Chloe hadn’t pushed me. Fortunately, the structure was light, and I only suffered some scrapes and bruises, nothing serious. Chloe took me inside and brought out the first aid kit. Her eyes never left me, and seeing that I didn’t ask about Gabriel’s outburst, she could only force a laugh and explain, “Someone was watching a drama earlier and forgot to turn down the volume. Those lines were really awkward, weren’t they?” I silently watched her lie, but couldn’t be bothered to expose her. After she finished treating my wounds, she said guiltily, “It’s all my fault for not taking better care of you. You just got out of the hospital and you’re already injured. I’ll go make you some healing soup right away.” Shortly after she left, a dark shadow loomed over me. I looked up to meet Gabriel’s gloomy eyes. He stared at my eyes, lost in thought. After a while, he spoke, “Liam Anderson, you’re not really blind, are you?” I was momentarily stunned, instinctively looking at him again with a hint of confusion in my eyes. Gabriel let out a mocking laugh and explained, “Many of your reactions show that you can see. For example, when you received the fake watch, your eyes darkened. When you saw my name on the contract, a flash of hurt crossed your eyes. When the structure collapsed, you instinctively raised your hand to block it…” “You can’t fool me with these actions.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. The truth was, I hadn’t really tried to pretend at all. Yet Chloe, who claimed to love me deeply every day, hadn’t noticed. Instead, it was Gabriel, who barely knew me, who first discovered the truth. I didn’t respond. But Gabriel continued to mutter to himself, his brow furrowed in confusion: “This doesn’t make sense. Chloe deliberately caused that car accident just to transplant your corneas to me.” “I really did regain my sight because of it, but how can you see too?” I was stunned, a chill running down my spine. No wonder… I remembered only suffering minor scrapes and then falling unconscious, with no injury to my eyes. How did I end up blind? It turned out that Chloe, the person I trusted most, had given my eyes to Gabriel without my knowledge. Even though my heart had long since grown numb, I couldn’t help but feel a sharp pain at this moment. All my genuine feelings had been misplaced after all. Gabriel didn’t let up, continuing to twist the knife: “Liam Anderson, since you can see everything, you must know that Chloe has always loved me.” “Don’t be fooled by her apparent devotion to you. It was all just to make me come back to her.” “Look, I just mentioned needing corneas, and she gave me yours.” “If you’re smart, you’ll get lost. A white swan like her is not for a toad like you.” He left with those harsh words, looking smug. What he didn’t know was that the voice recorder in my pocket was running, capturing every word he had just said. Time passed quickly, and fifteen days flew by in the blink of an eye. On the day of the wedding, many guests had arrived. Both my parents and Chloe’s had passed away, so the wedding was being hosted by her family elders. Chloe dragged me to the entrance to greet the guests. But all the arriving guests could clearly see that Chloe and Gabriel were wearing matching wedding dress and suit, while I was only in an ordinary suit. Those people’s contemptuous gazes swept over me, yet they spoke words of blessing: “Congratulations, wishing you a lifetime of happiness and many children.” Before I could respond, Gabriel, standing next to me, directly stepped forward to express gratitude: “Thank you, please come in.” The atmosphere froze for a moment. Chloe turned to glare at him, mouthing silently: “Gabriel Thompson, I already agreed to have a wedding with you first. If you dare to push your luck any further, get out right now.” Gabriel quickly begged for forgiveness, saying he had been foolish and wouldn’t do it again. However, he looked at me triumphantly, showing off Chloe’s indulgence towards him. I didn’t say a word. Chloe looked at me worriedly, thinking I wasn’t feeling well, and had someone help me upstairs to rest. I hadn’t been lying down for long when more festive music started playing outside. The nurse who was supposed to stay by my side had also run out to watch the excitement. I walked out of the room and stood by the window, looking down at the grand wedding below. The wedding venue was beautifully decorated, with flower girls scattering petals, welcoming the beautiful bride in white. A helicopter circled overhead, dropping a huge and eye-catching banner that caused a wave of cheers from below. The banner prominently displayed Chloe and Gabriel’s wedding photos, even their names were written on it. The officiant didn’t even need a microphone, just pointed to a giant screen to one side. Everyone looked in that direction to see a slideshow of their photos together, looking sweet and happy. After the photos finished playing, the wedding vows silently scrolled across the screen, following the wedding procedure. Chloe, with tears in her eyes, silently mouthed “I do.” She extended her hand, allowing Gabriel to slip the wedding ring onto her finger. The two shared a brief kiss. The guests below applauded enthusiastically, their faces beaming with joy, yet not a sound was uttered. Even though I had anticipated this, I couldn’t help but clench my fists. The woman who claimed to love me the most was marrying another man right before my eyes. As their ceremony concluded, Gabriel, still not satisfied, took the microphone and acted as the officiant. He spotted me watching from the window and smiled mischievously, shouting loudly: “And now, let’s welcome the groom!” At this moment, everyone suddenly looked up and realized that I had been witnessing the entire process. Chloe’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly remembered that I supposedly couldn’t see. She breathed a sigh of relief and scolded, “Where is everyone? How could you let the groom stand alone by the window? It’s dangerous! Hurry up and help him!” The servants who had been watching the show all started moving towards me. But I, facing the gentle breeze, spread my arms and leapt from the ten-story high building, my head aimed directly at the ground.

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I noticed a message on my husband Theo’s phone. He had booked a luxurious ten-day trip to Europe for Independence Day. I chuckled. Theo always enjoyed planning mysterious surprises like this. However, the surprise never materialized by Independence Day. He told me he had to leave for a business trip. Then, I stumbled upon a social media post from his secretary, Celeste: “Under the Bridge of Sighs in Venice, the kiss touches my lips but reaches my heart.” The accompanying photo showed Theo and Celeste locked in a passionate kiss. I saved the picture and sent it to the Lewis family group chat with the message: “Congratulations on your new daughter-in-law.” 0 The Lewis family chat erupted. Messages poured in: My mother-in-law: “Yanyan, is this a misunderstanding?” Theo’s cousin: “Wow, my brother sure knows how to have fun.” Our aunt immediately tagged the cousin: “Kids shouldn’t speak recklessly.” Theo’s little sister: “Why does this woman look so familiar?” Theo’s cousin: “Isn’t she the secretary, Celeste?” Silence followed. After a while, Theo sent a message in the group: “I lost a game of truth or dare and had to post a kissing photo. She’s just a young woman working for me. I didn’t want her to feel awkward, so I took the picture. Let’s move on and not make this difficult for her.” Theo called me shortly after: “Yanyan, let’s not be childish, okay? How could you post such a picture in the family group? The Lewis family is quite traditional. Please take it down.” I replied calmly: “Is there something about the photo that can’t be seen? I think it’s quite well taken, and the caption fits perfectly.” Theo’s voice grew impatient: “I told you, she lost a dare game. Why are you making such a fuss over a young girl?” I sat up straight and spoke seriously: “She kissed my husband, so it matters to me. If you had no interest, you wouldn’t have let this happen. Theo, I hope you won’t make a mistake.” His tone softened: “Alright, I’ll be careful next time. I’ll bring you a gift when I return from the trip.” I checked the time and asked: “When will you be back from the business trip?” He gave a date that perfectly matched the travel agency’s ten-day tour schedule. Theo had finally betrayed our marriage. A few days later, when Theo returned, I went to the airport to pick him up. It wasn’t that I was clingy; today we had to attend a family gathering for the Lewis family together. Theo emerged pushing a cart full of luggage, with a demure Celeste following him. Upon seeing me, Celeste took a step back, looking bashful: “Mrs. Theo.” Theo gently hugged me and kissed my cheek: “Honey, you must be tired.” I could still smell traces of a woman’s perfume, likely from a recent kiss. I turned my face away, noticing a slight red mark on his shirt collar. I kept silent. Theo appeared unperturbed: “Honey, let’s drop Celeste off first, then head home.” He casually opened the passenger door, explaining that Celeste gets carsick. Celeste glanced at me from the passenger seat, looking cautious: “Mr. Theo, maybe I should take a cab.” Theo took my hand and spoke firmly: “You’re young. It’s not safe to be out alone at night. I’ll drop you off; it’s on the way.” On the way? An extra ten kilometers, if you say so. My eyes met Celeste’s in the car mirror, filled with unspoken understanding and a woman’s intuition. I lowered my gaze and softly asked: “Was it just you two on the business trip?” Theo casually replied: “No, other colleagues took different flights.” Before Celeste got out of the car, she handed me a box and tilted her head: “Mrs. Theo, here’s a gift I picked for you. I heard you like shawls, so I chose this one. I hope you like it. I’m just not sure if the color suits you.” Theo chuckled: “Yanyan is a bit older, not like you young girls who like playful colors. It’s perfect.” I choked slightly, sighing softly. 0

Once the car door closed, I sat up, distancing myself from Theo. He frowned: “What’s wrong?” I handed him a mirror to check himself. He quickly noticed the lipstick mark and frowned but explained: “Celeste almost fell when we got off the plane. I helped her, and maybe it happened then.” I took a deep breath, turning to look at him with sadness and an indescribable feeling: “Theo, we’ve been married seven years. There never used to be secretaries who couldn’t stand and left lipstick marks on you. When did secretaries start accidentally spraying perfume on you or getting lipstick on you?” He was silent for a moment, then apologized: “Okay, I’ll be more careful.” I felt suffocated. Even though our marriage was a business alliance, we dated for two years before marrying. There were feelings involved. Seven years of marriage now felt like it was ending. Before getting out to meet the Lewis family, he grabbed my arm, looking serious: “Are you upset? Because I didn’t spend Independence Day with you and went on a business trip with my secretary?” “When did you become so unreasonable? Acting like a little girl.” “You know Lewis Enterprises is at a crucial transformation stage. I really don’t have time to guess your thoughts. I’ve been abroad, busy for ten days. I’m really exhausted.” “You need to be a proper Mrs. Theo, not someone showing emotions on her face.” I suddenly lost patience with this charade, shaking off his hand: “Independence Day European luxury tour? Business trip? Am I the only fool in the world?” “Was the kiss under the Bridge of Sighs sweet? Do you like her heart?” I pushed open the car door and left without looking back: “Let’s play the perfect couple tonight, then take some time apart to cool down.” The family gathering left me exhausted. Pretending to be the perfect couple was draining both physically and emotionally. Back home, I took a bath, put on pajamas, and applied body lotion. Theo hugged me from behind, coaxing softly: “Honey, I was wrong. I’ll never talk to her again. If you want, I’ll transfer her to the branch office, okay?” I broke free from his embrace: “Theo, don’t hug me with other women’s perfume and lipstick on you.” He held me again: “I was wrong. Let’s wash it off together, okay? You can peel my skin off.” He started kissing me. I was about to slap him when his phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID: “Little Clumsy.” On the call, Celeste’s voice was coy and tearful: “Mr. Theo, what do I do? I messed up the data in the files I brought back. I don’t know how to fix it. The contract needs signing tomorrow, what do I do?” Her voice was filled with fear and a young girl’s dependence on someone in power. Theo frowned, responding: “What’s wrong with you? How could you be so careless? Wait at home, I’ll be there soon.” After hanging up, he put on his coat and told me: “This contract is important. I have to oversee it myself. You sleep first, don’t wait for me.” He left in a hurry, not even remembering his scarf. I sat quietly on the sofa, hearing a notification on my phone. I opened it. It was Celeste’s new social media post: “Serious men are the most handsome, whether in work or in other things.” The photo showed Theo painting Celeste’s nails under a lamp. My suspended heart finally shattered. I locked the door, put on an eye mask and earplugs. He wasn’t coming back tonight. The next morning, while having breakfast, the maid asked: “Is Mr. Theo not eating breakfast?” I put down my utensils and thought: “You probably won’t need to make breakfast for him anymore. I doubt he’ll be eating at home much.” I picked up my phone and opened Celeste’s social media. Sure enough, she posted another picture with a warm touch. Theo was sitting at a roadside stall, with steaming soy milk and buns on the table. The misty, warm scene was beautiful. Two pairs of chopsticks and bowls were on the table. The caption read: “Simple happiness is having you and me, the warmth of life.” This public display of affection seemed endless. Theo is so picky about food. He’s allergic to dairy and peanuts, and eating anything unclean gives him gastritis. Our chef’s standards are higher than those of a five-star restaurant. He ignores a breakfast comparable to a five-star hotel’s and eats at a street stall. Clearly, he’s blinded by love. I couldn’t resist liking the post. Quickly, the post was deleted. 0

My prediction soon came true. Theo was hospitalized for severe vomiting and diarrhea. When I arrived at the hospital, Theo was pale and receiving an IV. His secretary was crying with red, swollen eyes, looking a hundred times more upset than I was as his wife. Theo was still asleep. Celeste saw me and immediately stood up, whispering: “I’m sorry, Mrs. Theo, it’s all my fault.” I stopped her: “Of course, it’s your fault. You have a major role in his hospitalization. Have you thought about how to explain to the Lewis family that you single-handedly landed Theo in the hospital?” “Yanyan, it’s not Celeste’s fault.” Theo woke up, speaking weakly. When I arrived at the hospital, Theo lay there, looking pale as he received an IV drip. His secretary was beside him, crying so much that her eyes were red, appearing far more distraught than I, his wife. Theo was still asleep when Celeste noticed me. She quickly stood up and whispered, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Theo, it’s all my fault.” I interrupted her, “Of course it’s your fault. You played a significant role in Theo ending up in the hospital. Have you thought about how you’re going to explain to the Lewis family how you managed to get Theo admitted all by yourself?” “Adeline, it wasn’t Celeste’s fault,” Theo said weakly as he woke up. Celeste rushed to his bedside, her eyes as red as a rabbit’s. “I really didn’t know you couldn’t eat street food. Next time, I’ll cook for you myself, okay?” Theo gently cut her off, “You should go home. There’s no need for you to take care of me here.” I stood up from the sofa and stopped Celeste from leaving. “No, let her stay. She seems to be the best person for the job. I have business to attend to, and I can’t spend time at the hospital.” Theo hastened to explain, “I was up all night working on data, and Celeste felt bad and treated me to breakfast. Don’t misunderstand.” I grabbed my bag, shaking my head at his explanation. “Having an incompetent secretary is Lewis Enterprises’ issue, not mine. But I can’t help but be upset that my husband worked all night with a young girl and ended up hospitalized due to some ‘carefree joy.’ So, I don’t want to see you today.” Behind me, I heard Celeste’s anxious voice, “It’s all my fault. Should I try to explain and make Mrs. Theo less angry?” Theo comforted her with a hoarse voice, “Stop crying, or you’ll really look like a bunny.” That night, amid my mother-in-law’s constant worries and hints, being a daughter-in-law in a wealthy family felt burdensome. Fortunately, it wouldn’t be for much longer. In the end, I still brought some nourishing soup to the hospital. The door to the VIP ward was slightly open. Just as I was about to push it further, I overheard voices inside. “Theo, I kissed you because I genuinely have feelings for you. I don’t care if you’re married. I don’t want you to marry me; I just want to be by your side. Please don’t transfer me.” “Please, don’t abandon me.” Celeste’s soft, heart-wrenching cries reached my ears. Peering through the gap, I saw Celeste, tears streaming down her face, leaning against Theo, looking up at him with admiration and reverence as if he were a deity. She gently lifted her face and kissed him, pleading, “Please.” Finally, Theo responded, and their kiss deepened, becoming long and intoxicating, enveloping them both. With a loud crash, the thermos in my hand hit the ground, startling them apart. Seeing me at the door, Theo froze, and Celeste blushed and hid behind him. Theo quickly removed the IV needle and rushed to reach me, trying to explain. I slapped him hard, turning his face sideways. “Get away from me.” Celeste darted over to stand in front of him. “Mrs. Theo, how can you hit him? It’s all my fault. If you want to hit someone, hit me.” Looking at the two of them made me sick. I didn’t want to say another word and turned to leave. “Adeline, it’s not what you think.” I spun around sharply. “Not what I think? Then what is it? A five-minute make-out session, and you tell me it’s just a good working relationship? Comforting a scared young girl?” “Don’t touch me, Theo. You disgust me.” “I’ll have the Lewis family’s lawyer contact you, Theo. I want a divorce.” Theo chased after me into the elevator. I swung my bag at him. “Get away from me. I don’t want to share an elevator with you. Your presence makes me nauseous; I can’t stand being in the same room with you.” Theo stood pale and dazed at the elevator door, watching it close slowly, my disappointed gaze feeling like it could kill him. When my elevator reached the first floor, Theo, still in his hospital clothes, was panting as he ran down the stairs, blocking me at the hospital entrance. “Honey, I don’t want a divorce. Don’t say things in anger. We can’t divorce. Hear me out.” I shook him off. “A misunderstanding? You want me to forgive you? What can you even say with sincerity? Theo, I’m so disappointed in you.” Theo held onto my hand. “No, I admit I messed up. I was foolish. Maybe I felt trapped. She’s young and refreshing, and I lost my mind for a moment. But Adeline, don’t cry. When I saw you, I realized you’re the one I truly love. With her, it was just a fleeting dalliance.” I glared at him coldly. “A fleeting dalliance? Your act is never-ending. Theo, are you an actor? Why not go for the next Best Actor award?” “What did you say? It was just an act?” Celeste had come down in the elevator, and as it opened, she overheard Theo’s words. Her tears fell like beads, and she stared at Theo. “Was everything you said last night a lie? Were you lying when you said you loved me in bed? When you said she was boring? When you said you’d divorce her and marry me?” “What about me? I love you so much. Without you, I’d die.” She cried like a pear blossom in rain. Theo didn’t have time to comfort her and tried to catch up with me. There was a commotion behind us, and Celeste fainted softly on the ground. “Celeste!” Theo rushed over to hold her, looking back to find me gone as I drove off. “Adeline,” Theo shouted, but no one answered him. I inherited my fiery temper from my dad, direct and decisive. Back at the house I shared with Theo, I called a moving company to pack up all my belongings from the Lewis family’s place. The Lewis family’s old housekeeper was frantic, calling Theo’s phone, which was off, and then calling my in-laws. I didn’t take their calls. I just posted a video in the Lewis family group chat. This time, no one spoke up. It was a five-minute video of Theo and Celeste’s passionate kiss. The emotions and dialogue were intense, fiery, and passionate. I added a message: “Isn’t this kind of love worth me stepping aside for?” Then I left the group chat. From today on, I was no longer part of the Lewis family, with no ties whatsoever. Theo’s phone was off, so he had no idea the whole world was exploding outside his little love bubble. When I got home, my dad jumped up, ready to go break Theo’s legs in the hospital. My brother, stone-faced, called our partner companies, threatening to cut ties with anyone doing business with the Lewis family. The Lewis family’s legal team worked overnight to sort out our pre-marital and post-marital assets, drafting a divorce agreement. Celeste, still clueless, was posting about her happiness on social media, saying how much she loved seeing Theo wake up beside her. The photos showed Theo sleeping peacefully, clearly satisfied with their night together. I took the opportunity to save the photos and send them to my lawyer. I love how young girls share everything on social media when in love. It made gathering evidence so easy for me. Theo didn’t want a divorce, but it wasn’t up to him anymore. The collaboration between our families was in the process of being divided, handled by my dad and my father-in-law. Splitting the cooperation between two conglomerates wasn’t a simple matter. After Theo was discharged, he showed up at my house every day, trying to see me. My brother kicked him out each time, not even letting him in the door. But he kept showing up, rain or shine. My mom, unable to bear it, said to him with disappointment, “You say you love Adeline, but then you cheat. You say you don’t like her, yet you act like this. Why bother?” He knelt before my mom, begging, “Mom, please let me see Adeline. I truly care for her. I was foolish and kept making mistakes. Please let me see her.” “She can’t give me even one chance to explain. I’ll make it right with her.” My mom sighed and shook her head. “You should go back. Adeline said she won’t see you unless you sign the divorce papers.” Despite kneeling at our house, it was useless for him. I wasn’t even home. I had already embarked on a spontaneous trip with my best friend. My friend tilted her head, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at me, “You’ve been cooped up since you got married. You don’t know how exciting the world is outside.” We went to Jade Dragon Snow Mountain to see the snow, to Shangri-La, and to Qinghai Lake. The beautiful scenery healed me, sweeping away my gloom, leaving only good vibes. The answers were on the road, freedom in the wind. I was determined not to be a fool for love. During this time, Celeste seemed to appear everywhere as Theo’s girlfriend. Friends sent me social media posts where Theo and Celeste were often spotted together. I found it amusing. Theo must have lost his mind, refusing to divorce yet flaunting his affair everywhere. Was he trying to make it obvious? When I returned to Seaside City, two months had passed. The answers lie on the journey, freedom is in the breeze, and I refuse to be a fool for love. During this period, Celeste openly took on the role of Theo’s girlfriend. My friends would often send me social media posts featuring Theo and Celeste together. I found it quite amusing. Theo must have lost his mind; he refuses to get a divorce while flaunting his affair. Is he afraid people won’t notice his infidelity? When I returned to Seaside City, two months had already passed. Upon arriving at the airport, I was taken aback to find Theo waiting for me with a bouquet of flowers. He approached with a tender expression, “Wife.” I took a step back, looking at him coldly, “There’s no need for this, Theo. Why haven’t you signed the divorce papers after two months? Aren’t you enjoying yourself with your little mistress daily? Why keep dragging me along? Wouldn’t it be better for both of us to move on with our lives?” Theo’s eyes flickered with a hint of guilt, “We’ve been married for so many years, do you truly not care about our past? I really need you.” I laughed, “You don’t need me. You need a wife who can enhance your public image, and I’m tired of playing that role.” He needed my status as the eldest daughter of the Taylor family to boost his standing both within the family and in society. Where else could he find such a wife? If I hadn’t been swayed by his looks back then, I wouldn’t have fallen for it. The women he’s with now are only good for amusement. I pushed my suitcase past him and left without looking back, regardless of how dark his expression became. The next day, Celeste reached out to me, asking to meet. I didn’t need to guess that this meeting was to persuade me to divorce, but I went anyway. Before she could speak, I raised my hand to stop her, “I want to divorce Theo more than you think. So, you’d better find a way to get him to sign.” “Otherwise, how will you become Mrs. Theo?” My words left Celeste speechless. She bit her lip, twisting her fingers nervously, and finally mustered the courage to say, “I know you won’t reconcile with him and want a divorce. I didn’t come to you for that. I came because Theo has another woman.” What??

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My husband’s mother worked as a waitress in a high-end hotel and pulled a used condom out of the trash, left behind by the wealthiest man in town. After undergoing artificial insemination, she successfully got pregnant. She fantasized about marrying the billionaire and becoming the envy of all as a rich wife. I tried to persuade her to abort the child, given that the father’s identity was unknown. But she mistook my advice for jealousy, and with the help of my husband, they plotted to kill me. She told him, “We’re about to be filthy rich. Once this is all over, I’ll find you a young, pretty, and rich wife.” Later, the child she gave birth to turned out to be Black. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day my mother-in-law was gleefully announcing that she was carrying the billionaire’s child. “Alex! I’m pregnant with the richest man’s child!” My mother-in-law, Nancy Reid, looked like she’d won the lottery, tears of joy practically streaming down her face. My husband, Alex Reid, froze for a moment before lunging forward to hug her. “Mom! Are you serious? You’re really pregnant?!” Nancy nodded so fast it was a wonder her head didn’t fall off. The two clung to each other, bursting with excitement. “This is incredible! Mom, you have to take extra care of yourself, okay? If you can have a boy, even better! Illegitimate kids get inheritance rights too these days. Who knows? Maybe this one will end up inheriting the richest man’s entire fortune!” Alex’s eyes sparkled as he stared at her stomach like it was a treasure chest. “Mom, from now on, you’re the most important person in this family. Even Elaine’s got nothing on you. She can’t even get pregnant.” The two of them were so caught up in their euphoria they didn’t even notice my expression harden. In my previous life, this was the moment everything spiraled out of control. Nancy found out she was pregnant, made a huge scene, and started dreaming about becoming some billionaire’s wife. She actually believed the richest man alive would marry a woman her age. Back then, I was worried about her health as pregnancy at her age was risky, and I was suspicious about the baby’s true father. So, I suggested she get an abortion. She, of course, accused me of being jealous, bitter that she could have a son when I couldn’t. Our argument turned violent. Nancy grabbed me by the throat, and before I could fight back, she and Alex killed me. As I lay on the floor, barely breathing, Nancy had the audacity to turn to Alex and say, “We’re about to be filthy rich. Once this is all over, I’ll find you a young, pretty, and rich wife.” The memory still sent chills down my spine. This time, though, things would be different. I forced a smile. “You’re right, Mom. You should definitely take care of yourself. This baby is very important.” If only she knew what kind of surprise that child would bring her. When Nancy noticed my smile, her giddy expression shifted into a scowl. “What are you grinning at? Stop standing around and get me some food! Are you trying to starve my precious baby?” Alex shot me an annoyed glance. “Didn’t you hear her? Go cook something! Mom’s hungry!” I stood there for a moment, staring at the pair of them. It was hard to believe I’d once thought this man was worth marrying. Turns out, he was worse than a monster. Without a word, I turned and walked into the kitchen, moving slowly and methodically. I rinsed the fresh chicken under the faucet, my mind racing. I couldn’t confront them directly yet. I needed Alex to be the one to suggest a divorce. As I prepared the ingredients, my eyes drifted to a small pile of bird droppings on the windowsill. A wicked thought crept into my mind. Picking up a fork, I scooped up the droppings and casually dropped them into the pot. The corners of my mouth lifted as I stirred the soup and replaced the lid. When the chicken soup was ready, I carried it to the table. Nancy didn’t waste a second before announcing, “I’m feeling weak lately. And since Alex’s the breadwinner, he needs to stay healthy. You don’t get any.” I smiled sweetly, my voice light and agreeable. “Of course, Mom. It’s all for you.” In my mind, I murmured, “Enjoy your special chicken soup. I hope it’s everything you deserve.”

Since Nancy got pregnant, it was like she thought she was carrying royalty, and Alex acted like the king. They treated me like a servant, bossing me around. I pretended to be all cheerful about it, but secretly, I was spicing up their meals with a little extra, making sure their clothes got splashed with dirt and even dunking Alex’s stinky socks into the water dispenser. Meanwhile, in the living room, Nancy could barely move without Alex by her side, practically waiting on her hand and foot. They looked like the perfect couple, him doting on her like a king and her acting like the queen, waiting eagerly for their little prince to arrive. I hid in the bathroom, using their toothbrushes to scrub the toilet, listening carefully to what they were saying. Nancy’s voice rang out, sharp and smug. “See? Alex, this is why she’s been so nice lately. It’s because I’m carrying the richest man’s child. She’s probably just trying to get a piece of the fortune.” Alex’s voice turned cold as he replied, “I think it’s time we get this divorce settled. I’ll do it soon.” Nancy, sounding satisfied, said, “Don’t worry. I’ll find you a rich and beautiful wife once this is over.” Alex’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Mom, you really are the best!” He leaned down and pressed his ear to her stomach. “When will the baby start kicking?” Nancy giggled, clearly enjoying herself. “In a few months, maybe!” The room felt so warm and perfect, like I was the outsider looking in. I couldn’t help but give a sneer. I wanted nothing more than for Alex to ask for a divorce already. What I hadn’t told him, though, was that he couldn’t have children. I’d kept it a secret for so long, trying to protect his fragile pride. I hid the test results and took all the blame on myself, telling him it was me who couldn’t have kids. I slapped my forehead, feeling stupid for trying to protect him all this time. I casually put their toothbrushes back in the cup and walked out of the bathroom like nothing happened. Alex caught my eye for a second, and I saw a brief flicker of guilt before it was gone. “Elaine, go throw out the flowerpots on the balcony. I’m allergic to flowers, and it’s messing with my chances of having a son!” Nancy snapped, glaring at me. I nodded, barely hiding my annoyance. “Sure.” Before I left, I casually said, “Nancy, I heard that to have a son, you should take some supplements to keep everything stable.” Nancy shot me a glare, her voice rising sharply. “Shut your mouth! I’m carrying a son! Even if I don’t take anything, it’ll still be a son!” Alex, looking flustered, snapped, “Elaine! Can you just stop making Mom angry? She’s pregnant, for crying out loud!” I lowered my head, pretending to be submissive. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.” But I could tell that Nancy, eager for a son, had really absorbed what I said. I’d been married to Alex for two years, and in that time, Nancy had forced me to take a ton of medicine, claiming it was for my health. Now, I was going to get my revenge. What I didn’t expect was how far Nancy’s madness would go. She handed me a massive bag of herbs, cradling her belly like some royalty. “Make sure you brew these up. My son needs to get all the nutrients.” I grabbed the bag, feeling the strange weight of it. When I felt the contents, I immediately knew something was wrong. I opened the bag and nearly gagged. Inside were the remains of a fetus, about four or five months along. I masked my disgust and forced out a calm tone. “Should I make soup with this?” Nancy looked at me like I was stupid. “What else? All the nutrition is in the soup!” I couldn’t stomach it. I immediately tossed it in the trash. There was no way I was using that. It was too disgusting, and I feared the karma it would bring. Instead, I made her chicken soup, but I wasn’t done yet. I added my own special ingredient, Alex’s toenail clippings. He was always tossing them around the house, and I couldn’t stand it. I’d tried asking him to clean up, but he never listened. So, I decided to put them to use. I dropped the toenail clippings into the soup and let them soak, then removed them with care, making sure there were no traces left. When Nancy picked up the bowl, she wrinkled her nose at the bitter smell. I took the chance to say, “Drink it while it’s hot, or it won’t work as well.” She grimaced but forced herself to swallow, her face twisting from the bitterness. “Mom, you should have this again tomorrow.” Alex’s words almost made Nancy faint from the shock. “That’s way too bitter,” she complained. Alex waved it off casually. “Of course, it’s medicine. It’s good for you.” Then he handed her a candy to sweeten the deal. Nancy, now happily sucking on the candy, rubbed her belly with a satisfied smile. “I can feel it! It’s definitely a son.” I smiled and chimed in, “Definitely a son.” Nancy rolled her eyes at me but couldn’t hide her smug smile. “You, who can’t even get pregnant, should just keep quiet.” Still, when I echoed her, her face lit up with satisfaction. She was convinced I was just jealous of her having a son. I didn’t argue, but my jaw nearly hit the floor when Nancy suddenly said, “Alex, you should sleep with me tonight. Your little brother will be so happy.” I froze for a second and instinctively turned to Alex. Without a second thought, he nodded and said, “Sure, with me here, he will definitely be cheerful.” I felt like the world was crashing down on me. I was so stunned and couldn’t even process what was happening.

Alex actually shared a room with Nancy. I couldn’t be happier. At least I didn’t have to sleep next to him. In the dead of night, Nancy knocked on my door, her voice loud and demanding. “I’m starving! Make me some pancakes!” I rubbed my eyes and, without saying a word, got up to cook for her. Meanwhile, her darling son was snoring away in the other room, oblivious. Nancy watched me bustle around the kitchen, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. It was clear she enjoyed the sight of me waiting on her hand and foot. What she didn’t know was that I’d added a little extra from the toilet brush to her food. I brought the pancakes over, and as soon as Nancy caught the strange smell, her stomach lurched. “What’s wrong, Nancy?” I asked, pretending I had no idea. Before she could answer, she was already dry-heaving. I raised an eyebrow, trying to sound sweet. “Nancy, you have to eat. Don’t you want to make sure the baby gets enough nutrition?” Her face twisted in disgust as she took a bite, forcing herself to swallow. She couldn’t even finish one bite before gagging again. “What did you do to this? It tastes awful!” she snapped, her patience running thin. I shrugged, acting innocent. “Maybe it’s because you’re carrying a son. I heard your sense of smell gets sharper when you’re pregnant with a boy.” That did the trick. Nancy’s face lit up at the mention of her son, and she stroked her small belly with pride. “My son must be here to repay me.” So, despite her disgust, she managed to finish the pancakes, smiling like it was the best thing she’d ever eaten. A bitter smile tugged at my lips, my eyes cold with intent. This was just the beginning of my revenge. For the past few days, I’d been secretly brewing her soup, each batch more vile than the last. Every time she came close to quitting, I’d whisper, “It’s for the baby.” As her belly began to show, Nancy couldn’t help but brag to her friends about her pregnancy, casually dropping the bomb that the father was some rich tycoon, and soon, she’d be swimming in money. That was when Martha Hayes, one of her closest friends, showed up, eager to help until the baby arrived. I knew what she was really after. She wanted a piece of whatever fortune Nancy would inherit. But the real surprise came when Martha introduced her daughter. “This is my daughter, Brianna,” she said, pushing her forward. “Say hello to Alex.” Brianna shyly tugged at her skirt, greeting sweetly, “Hello.” Alex didn’t even blink, his eyes fixed on her. “Nice to meet you.” The air between them was thick with unspoken chemistry. I realized then that Martha was trying to set her daughter up with Alex. Inside, I was nearly bursting with laughter. This couldn’t have been better timing. I’d been waiting for Alex to finally bring up the divorce. With his ego, if I brought it up first, it would drag on forever. Nancy would have already had the baby, and it would be too late.

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When I got the news that my husband was having surgery, I braved a full-on hurricane—pouring rain, howling winds—and drove four hours straight back to the city. By the time I made it to the hospital, Evan was lying in the hospital bed, groggy but loud, demanding, “Where’s my wife? Someone get my wife here!” His friends, gathered around him, started teasing him, calling him whipped and saying how hopelessly in love he was with me. Everyone always said he adored me to no end. Blushing, I walked over with a shy smile, feeling a mix of relief and happiness. I gently took his hand and reassured him softly, “I’m here.” But to my shock, Evan frowned, yanked his hand away, and looked at me like I was some stranger. “Get lost!” he snapped, his voice filled with disdain. “You’re not my wife! My wife is Sofia!” … The once lively hospital room fell into an awkward silence after Evan’s outburst. His group of buddies immediately looked uncomfortable, avoiding my gaze like guilty children caught in the act. I scanned their faces, and it all became painfully clear: they knew about Sofia. In that moment, I felt like a complete fool. The sweetness and shyness I’d shown just moments before—how pathetic and laughable it must have seemed to them. One of them tried to stammer an explanation. “Um… don’t take it seriously, okay? Evan’s still out of it from the anesthesia. He’s just talking nonsense.” The rest quickly chimed in: “Yeah, everyone knows how much he loves you. He’s totally whipped—this has to be the drugs talking.” “Exactly! Sofia’s just his secretary. She could never compare to you in his heart.” But one of them nudged the speaker, signaling him to shut up. I didn’t say a word. I just stood there, numb. My feet, soaked from standing in rainwater for over four hours, felt cold and lifeless. Meanwhile, Evan kept calling out, “Where’s my wife? Where’s my wife? Mason, call my wife! Hurry!” His voice softened, tinged with a childlike sadness. “I want to hold her. Why doesn’t she care about me?” I held his hand tightly and asked, “Evan, who am I?” He blinked at me, his eyes unfocused, and after a long pause, he muttered three words: “The old hag.” I forced a laugh, though tears blurred my vision. So this was it. From high school sweethearts at seventeen to marriage at thirty, after just four years of being his wife, I’d already become “the old hag” in his eyes. In the end, I took Evan’s phone and called Sofia. She arrived quickly. The moment she entered, she ignored me entirely, rushing to Evan’s side like a heroine in a romance movie. Grabbing his hand, her eyes reddened with emotion as she cried, “Evan, I’m so sorry I’m late!” Evan’s eyes lit up instantly, his face breaking into a wide smile. He pulled her into a hug and said, “You’re finally here, honey. I missed you so much.” “Someone tried to pretend to be you earlier,” he added, glaring in my direction. “But I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it. I told her to get lost!” Sofia glanced at me smugly before turning back to Evan and cooing, “My husband is so smart.” Evan pointed to his lips, grinning like a child. “Don’t I deserve a reward?” Without hesitation, the two started kissing, completely oblivious to everyone else in the room. I watched, my throat tight and my chest aching. My eyes stung with unshed tears, and my entire body felt like it was trembling uncontrollably. No matter how hard I dug my nails into my leg, the cold numbness wouldn’t go away. Mason, one of Evan’s friends, finally broke the silence, his voice soft and hesitant. “Maybe… you should head home for now? Once Evan wakes up, I’m sure he’ll explain everything to you.” Explain? I turned to him, my face streaked with tears. I didn’t want to cry—especially not in front of Sofia. Crying in front of her felt like admitting defeat, like exposing my humiliation for her to revel in. But I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Just half an hour ago, Evan had been my perfect husband. My pride. My safe haven. We’d been together for thirteen years, and in all that time, we’d never once had a serious fight. I thought it was because of his endless patience and love for me. But now? That perfect image had been shattered, and the earthquake it caused in my heart left nothing but devastation. I walked out of the hospital room in silence. As I stepped through the door, I heard the collective sigh of relief from Evan’s friends, like they’d just gotten rid of a burden. At some point, I’d been quietly pushed out of Evan’s life—and his inner circle—without even realizing it. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I replayed every moment of our thirteen years together in my mind, every sweet memory now bitter and suffocating. At some point, I developed a fever. My body felt unbearably hot, yet I couldn’t wake up no matter how hard I tried. It was as if I were trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape. Just as I thought I might die, I felt a hand on my forehead and heard someone calling me softly, “Honey, wake up. Please.” I couldn’t respond. I didn’t have the strength. All I could do was let the tears roll silently down my face. When I finally woke up, the fever had broken. The first thing I saw was Evan sitting by my bedside, looking utterly exhausted.

I didn’t expect to wake up to the sight of Evan sitting by my bedside. For a moment, I thought last night had been a bad dream. I just stared at him blankly, unable to process it all. When Evan saw me awake, his face lit up with relief. He grabbed my hand tightly and asked, “Baby, how are you feeling? Are you okay?” I slid my hand out of his grasp, frowning as I looked at him. “Baby? Or… the old hag?” His face turned pale as if all the blood had drained from it. His eyes reddened, and to my shock, he slapped himself hard across the cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “I swear, it was the anesthesia talking. I wasn’t in my right mind.” He looked at me, his expression full of regret and desperation. “I… I don’t even know how I could’ve done something so stupid. When I fully came to, I was consumed with regret and fear. “I was terrified you’d leave me. That’s why, even though the doctor told me I wasn’t ready to be discharged, I left anyway.” As he spoke, he struggled to stand, lifting his shirt to show me the bandages from his appendectomy. Blood was beginning to seep through the gauze. I remembered how he had stayed by my side all night, even in his condition, and my heart softened just a little. Looking at the hurt and guilt in his eyes, I thought to myself—maybe this was real. Maybe… he wasn’t completely beyond saving. Maybe he had just been momentarily infatuated with a younger, prettier woman. But that infatuation couldn’t compare to the love he had for me. If he could cut off those feelings completely, maybe we could go back to the way we were. But the memory of him kissing Sofia in front of everyone played on a loop in my mind, reopening the wounds. My tears began to fall before I could stop them. Evan’s eyes turned red, filled with guilt. Panicked, he started wiping my tears, rambling apologies. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. I never wanted to hurt you like this. “But please, believe me—there’s no one else for me but you. I don’t even know why I said what I did under the anesthesia. “I’ve already fired Sofia. No matter what, her behavior last night proved she had inappropriate intentions toward me. “A woman like that—someone who’d knowingly try to wreck a marriage—I would never be interested in her!” He paused, then added earnestly, “You know how much I hate cheaters. After what happened with my parents, do you really think I’d ever do something like that?” I looked into his eyes and thought back to his past. His mother had taken her own life after his father’s affair drove her into a breakdown. Evan had always despised infidelity, going so far as to refuse to work with people he deemed morally corrupt. And honestly, if there were someone else in his heart, how could he have treated me so well all these years? With that thought, I decided to give him another chance. Evan pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. His tears fell onto my neck, warm and wet, and I could feel him trembling. I knew Evan wasn’t someone who cried easily. If he was crying now, it meant he truly loved me. It meant he was genuinely afraid of losing me. I whispered, “Evan, don’t lie to me. If you ever betray me again, you’ll lose me for good.” His body stiffened slightly, but a moment later, he leaned back and looked at me with determination. “Hannah, I swear—your Evan will never betray you. Ever.” And just like that, we made up. In the weeks that followed, Evan treated me better than ever before. He started driving me to and from work every day, never missing a single pick-up or drop-off. He brought me a different bouquet of flowers every morning, gave me nightly massages, and curled up on the couch with me to binge cheesy rom-coms, no matter how much he hated them. At work, my coworkers teased me endlessly, saying I had my husband wrapped around my finger. Some even asked me for tips on “husband training.” But unlike before, when I used to speak of our relationship with pride and confidence, I could only muster a faint, hollow smile. The events of that night had left a knot in my heart—one I couldn’t untangle, no matter how hard I tried. A month later, I found out I was pregnant. When I told Evan, he was over the moon. He picked me up and spun me around in circles, laughing like a child. Watching him beam with joy, I felt a sense of relief. I was glad I hadn’t let one mistake ruin what we had. I thought to myself, He’ll be a great dad. That hope shattered the day I walked into the OB-GYN’s office and saw him with Sofia. He was sitting next to her, his hand gently resting on her belly, his face glowing with tender excitement. I froze in the doorway, my heart pounding as I watched him lean closer to her and smile. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he said softly. “I can’t wait to meet our baby.” Sofia, her face flushed with happiness, looked at him and asked, “Do you think you’ll love our baby more than Hannah’s?” Without even looking up, Evan replied, “Of course I will. This is my first son. “Besides, you’re young and beautiful. There’s no way her baby could compare to ours.”

I never knew it was possible to feel so disgusted by someone that it could make you physically sick. Doubling over, I barely made it to the trash can before I started vomiting uncontrollably. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sofia and Evan walking in my direction, laughing as they talked. Panicked, I ducked behind the trash can, crouching low to avoid being seen. “I don’t know how you’re so sure it’s a boy,” Sofia said in a playful, teasing tone. “What if it’s a girl?” Evan chuckled softly. “Then I’ll love her too. A little girl who’s sweet, gentle, and as beautiful as her mom? I’d be the luckiest man alive.” Sofia giggled, her laugh high-pitched and flirtatious. “You’re such a charmer. But… I’m scared, Evan. What if, once her baby is born, you don’t have time for me and our little one anymore?” Evan’s voice was calm, reassuring. “Don’t worry. I’ve already thought it all through. Tomorrow, Mason will help you move to the house in Seaside. “From now on, I’ll tell her I’m traveling for work. That’ll give me at least two weeks every month to be with you.” Sofia squealed with excitement, and the two of them climbed into his car, laughing and chatting like they didn’t have a care in the world. I stayed crouched behind the trash can long after they left, trembling as tears blurred my vision. The crumpled ultrasound report I’d been clutching in my hand was now a mess of smudged ink and torn paper. I stared at it, suddenly thankful that I’d decided to come to the hospital alone today—thinking I’d been “saving Evan the trouble” because of how hard he’d been working recently. If I hadn’t… I would’ve never seen this with my own eyes. I would’ve kept living like an idiot, oblivious to the betrayal right in front of me. But Evan… if you love her so much, why did you beg me to stay? Why didn’t you just divorce me? I didn’t get home until late that night. By then, Evan had called me dozens of times, but I ignored every single one. The moment I walked through the door, he rushed over and pulled me into a tight hug, his face full of worry. “Hannah! Where were you? I’ve been going crazy looking for you!” “I went to the hospital,” I said flatly. Evan froze, his expression shifting to one of nervousness. He glanced at me, choosing his words carefully. “What time did you go? Which hospital? Why didn’t you call me?” “The General Hospital,” I replied. “You’ve been so busy lately, I didn’t want to bother you.” He visibly relaxed, letting out a small sigh of relief. They’d gone to the women’s health clinic. “How did it go? What did the doctor say?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. “You… don’t look too good. Is everything okay?” I hesitated for a moment, then said, “The doctor said… there’s a chance I might lose the baby.” I watched his face closely as I spoke, searching for any trace of genuine emotion. Evan looked surprised but not devastated. He quickly pulled me into his arms and whispered, “It’s okay, baby. You’re the only one that matters to me.” His words made me feel like my heart was being ripped apart. I wanted to scream, to slap him, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain I was feeling. It was clear he didn’t care about this baby at all. Why would he, when he already had another child on the way—one he was excited for, one he actually wanted? I couldn’t keep up the act any longer. Pushing him away, I muttered something about being tired and locked myself in the bedroom. Later that evening, Evan knocked on the door, calling me out for dinner. I couldn’t stand to see his face, so I pretended to be asleep. Not long after, I heard him step out of the room. A few minutes later, his phone rang, and he quickly left the house. The second the door closed, I got up, grabbed my keys, and followed him. I tailed him to a flower shop, where he bought a bouquet of roses. Then he stopped by a mall to pick up a designer handbag, followed by a bakery where he grabbed a box of desserts. Finally, he drove to his destination—our home. Our marital home. I gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My chest felt tight, my stomach churned, and I thought I was going to be sick again. Never in my worst nightmares did I imagine he would let her live in the house we built together. This wasn’t just any house. It was the first home we ever shared. The one I bought with the money I earned from selling my parents’ old home and working endless nights on freelance projects. I’d gifted it to him as a wedding present—a symbol of our love, a foundation for our future. Even after he became successful—after he bought bigger, fancier properties—this house remained untouched. He always said it was special, a testament to our love and the sacrifices we’d made for each other. And now, he’d brought her here. The woman carrying his child. He let her trample over everything that house represented. Over me. That night, I didn’t go inside. I sat in my car, parked in front of the house, and watched. Watched as the lights turned on and off. As they laughed and moved around inside. As they made themselves at home. It felt like I was punishing myself for being so blind, for believing in him for so long. I told myself that by staying here, facing this brutal reality, I could finally break free. The next morning, just as the sun was rising, Evan stepped out of the house looking refreshed and happy. Sofia was right behind him, practically glowing as she followed him to his car. She stood on her tiptoes to adjust his tie, her voice soft and affectionate as she spoke to him. He leaned forward slightly, smiling at her, his hands free so he could type a message on his phone. A moment later, my phone buzzed. I picked it up and saw his text: *”There’s an issue with a big contract at work. I’ve been tied up all night and probably won’t be home until late. Take care of yourself and make sure you eat. Love you, babe.”*

That nauseating feeling surged up again, and no matter how hard I tried to suppress it, I couldn’t stop myself from throwing up. This man… he was disgusting. So disgusting. After Evan drove off, Sofia hummed a cheerful tune as she walked upstairs. I stayed in the car for a while, trying to steady myself. My face was pale, but I forced some color back with a swipe of lipstick before stepping out. I walked up to the door and knocked. Sofia answered with a smile, muttering playfully, “What, did you forget something agai—” Her words trailed off the moment she saw me. Her smile didn’t falter, though. In fact, it widened, filled with mockery and malice. She looked me up and down, completely unbothered, and said in a sweet yet venomous tone: “Well, well, it’s you. I guess you found your way here. Why don’t you come in and take a look around?” She stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter, as if she were the rightful lady of the house. That smug, self-assured look on her face—it was as if I were the other woman here, nothing more than an unwelcome intruder. My chest tightened, my breathing grew uneven, but my heart… it felt dead. Hollow. I walked inside, numb, stepping into what I once believed was the happiest place in the world for Evan and me. And yet, everywhere I looked, there were reminders of them. Matching slippers by the door. Coordinated pajamas draped over the bedroom chair. A pair of toothbrushes on the bathroom counter, arranged in a way that formed a heart. It was all so domestic. So intimate. Sofia didn’t bother following me. She didn’t need to. She stayed by the fresh bouquet of flowers Evan had given her, lazily arranging them as she sneered over her shoulder. “Why put yourself through this?” she said, her voice dripping with contempt. “The moment you decided to forgive him, you should’ve known. To Evan, you’re just a woman with no boundaries. “In his mind, as long as he doesn’t divorce you, you’ll keep forgiving him. You’ll keep tolerating him. “Go ahead, confront him. He’ll just apologize, spin some pretty lie, and make you believe he’s sorry. And you? You’ll forgive him again. Because you don’t have a choice. “I mean, look at you. At your age, where else are you going to find a husband as rich as him? “You think you’re better than me, but the truth is, we’re the same.” The same? Her words felt like poison in my veins. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip that smug expression off her face. I thought about Evan and me, about everything we’d been through. We met when we were young—too young. For him, I sacrificed my career, worked endless hours, and supported him while he built his business from nothing. Sure, he made it big, but he couldn’t have done it without me. And this woman… she had the audacity to claim we were the same? But the confidence in her voice—it was unshakable. And deep down, I knew why. She believed it because Evan had told her so. In that moment, something in me clicked. I realized I’d been wrong all along. I forgave him because I loved him. Because I thought he loved me, too. But to him, my forgiveness wasn’t about love. It was about convenience. This man, this relationship we’d built over more than a decade—it had all rotted into something vile and toxic. Without another word, I walked past Sofia, ignoring the venom in her gaze, and entered the living room. That’s when I saw it. Hanging on the wall was a massive photo. A wedding portrait. In the picture, Sofia wore a diamond-studded wedding gown, her hand resting delicately on Evan’s chest as he held her close. The two of them stood against the backdrop of Santorini’s iconic blue and white cliffs. The image practically screamed luxury and extravagance. I thought I was numb, thought I couldn’t feel anything anymore. But the sight of that photo hit me like a dagger to the chest. Once, that wall had held our wedding photo. Ours was nothing like this one. We couldn’t afford anything extravagant back then. We didn’t even hire a photographer. Our photo had been taken on a beach, using a cheap tripod and a timer. I wore a simple white dress and a borrowed veil. It wasn’t fancy, but it was ours. It was real. Now, it was gone. Replaced by this. I forced myself to stay calm. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of the portrait. For the first time in a long time, my mind felt clear. Rotten things belonged in the trash. Evan and Sofia had been living together long enough to establish what was essentially a common-law marriage. I had all the evidence I needed. I’d take this to a lawyer. Make sure neither of them got away with anything. Sofia noticed me taking the photo. Her smugness cracked for a moment, replaced by panic. She lunged forward, one hand protectively cradling her belly, the other reaching for my phone. I stepped aside, but as I moved, she shoved me hard, sending me crashing into the coffee table. Pain exploded through my body as I hit the corner of the table. Almost immediately, I felt a warm, wet sensation between my legs. Blood. Sofia’s expression shifted, her eyes flashing with something dark and twisted. I collapsed to the floor, clutching my stomach as waves of pain radiated through me. My hand fumbled for my phone, desperate to call for help. Even if Evan didn’t want this baby, it was still mine. I couldn’t lose it. I wouldn’t. Sofia laughed cruelly, her voice filled with malice. As I reached for my phone, she stomped on my hand, grinding her heel into my fingers. The pain was excruciating. I screamed, tears streaming down my face. And then I heard it—a soft beep, followed by the sound of the front door unlocking. Someone was coming in. I looked up, dazed and barely conscious, and saw Evan standing in the doorway. He was back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295250”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance