Category: English

My older brother, Carl Jackson, killed eight members of the Parker family in a car accident. The only survivor, Victor Parker, canceled his engagement to me that very day in revenge, drove my family’s company into bankruptcy within a week, and left us facing compensation claims totaling 900 million. My brother was sentenced to fifteen years in prison. Unable to withstand the pressure, my parents jumped from the company building and died instantly. Yet on the day of their funeral, Victor forcibly married my sister-in-law, Anna Smith. “You guys owe me this! You Jacksons will never be able to repay this—ever.” I was sold off to settle the debts. Over those six years, I was forced to undergo countless abortions. I was treated as less than human, summoned and discarded whenever they pleased. Six years later, after I finally paid off all the debts and came to the Parker residence, hoping Victor would show mercy and give Anna her freedom. At the office door, I overheard a phone call between Victor and his friend. “Back then, you tampered with Carl’s car and made him kill your entire family for you.” “You became the head of the Parker family, and married Anna you’d long dreamed of. You’ve gotten everything you wanted. Why won’t you let Iris go?” “You grew up together, after all. Do you really have to be this heartless?” Victor’s voice was cold as ice. “If it weren’t for her, Anna and I would’ve married long ago.” “She went to every possible length, using every dirty trick just to be with me. Everything she’s suffering now is nothing but the consequences of her own actions!” My breath caught, and I barely managed to pull back my hand from the door. Tears fell in heavy drops as I was about to turn and leave, when a sharp, wary voice called out from inside the room. “Who’s there?” The door flew open. Victor scanned the surroundings with a guarded gaze. Only after confirming no one was there did he slam the door shut. Crouched behind the wall, I covered my mouth, barely daring to breathe. Victor and I grew up together. Since childhood, he took care of me even more than my own brother did. I spent every birthday with him, and every birthday gift from him was exactly what I wanted most. If I hadn’t heard the truth with my own ears, I would never have believed that the gentle, considerate childhood friend in my memories was the mastermind behind that accident. It was all for revenge against me, all for the position of heir. So many lives were destroyed by him! And I endured all the humiliation just to stay alive and atone for this devil! My nails dug into my flesh. I held back my tears in case they heard me. Only by summoning all my strength did I manage to stay on my feet and leave. When I reached the company entrance, I was stopped by a familiar, gentle voice. “Iris? Is it you?” My sister-in-law, Anna, was dressed in elegant designer clothes. Years had passed, yet time had left no trace on her beautiful face. Her gaze was pure, but when she took my hand, a flash of disdain flickered past. “You finally come back. Why didn’t you even tell me? Victor said you were sick and recovering abroad all this time. Are you feeling better now?” Hearing that, my heart clenched painfully. For six years, I had been treated as a sex slave, living with no dignity at all. But he told Anna I was recovering from illness abroad? “These past years must have been hard for you, right?” “After what happened back then, Victor said he would only let the Jackson family go if I agreed to marry him. I really had no choice.” “You… still blame me?” Anna seemed pretty sincere. I wavered. She’s completely powerless. Even if she found out the truth, what could she do? I was just about to speak, to tell her I had indeed been recovering abroad. But from behind me came a voice, icy to the bone. “Who allowed you to come here?”

Victor stood in front of Anna protectively, his face full of vigilance. When he looked at me, his disgust was undisguised. “I’ll leave right away.” Fear overwhelmed the hatred in my heart. I didn’t even dare meet his eyes. Instinctively, I wanted to escape. “Stop.” “Why does Anna look so unwell? What did you just say to her?” Anna’s face had been rosy just moments ago, but now she frowned a little. She faked an uncomfortable look. Then she shook her head, as if to cover something up. “Victor, it has nothing to do with her. Seeing her just reminded me of those painful things from back then, and I feel the baby just kicked me.” I looked at her belly and was totally stunned. Victor shot me a vicious glare. “Iris! Your brother killed almost my entire family. If you had any sense, you’d stay far away. Why come here to provoke Anna?” “Don’t tell me you still wanna marry me. Let me tell you, it’s impossible in this lifetime!” Victor’s ferocious look and words stabbed into my heart like a long thorn. Fortunately, my heart was already numb with pain. “I didn’t.” I rushed to deny it. But he pressed closer step by step. “Then why are you here?” “I’m warning you. Don’t ever appear in front of Anna again. If anything happens to the child in her belly, I’ll make you pay with your life!” After saying that, Victor anxiously took Anna to the hospital for a checkup. I watched the man who once held me like I was fragile treasure now leave, Anna at his side, not so much as a backward glance. Suddenly, I felt like crying. If only I hadn’t clung so desperately back then, insisting on marrying Victor… If only I had realized sooner that he was just treating me as his sister, and that the one he truly loved was Anna… Perhaps none of this tragedy would have happened. I would still have parents who loved me, and a brother who cherished me. But no matter how much I regretted it, there was no chance to start over. Like a walking corpse, I returned to my tiny rented room. Blood from my nose soaked the crumpled, late-stage cancer diagnosis I was holding. Originally, this was meant to be my moral bargaining chip to save Anna. Now, it was no longer needed. Large tears rolled down. I was someone who had endured being violated by more than a dozen people on this bed without shedding a single tear. Now I was crying so hard that I could barely breathe. Believing I was about to die, I hurriedly wiped away the blood and tears, trembling fingers to call my brother in prison. After a series of transfers, I finally heard a beep. “Carl, I won’t be able to wait for the day you’re released.” “I saved up some money for you. It’s not much. After you get out, use it to rent a place, find a job, and live well.” “And, Mom and Dad’s deaths aren’t your fault. I’m so sorry.” I didn’t dare hear Carl’s voice. After finishing, I hurriedly hung up. In that instant, the phone slipped from my hand. I lost consciousness as soon as the phone hit the ground.

When I opened my eyes, I was already lying in a hospital ward. Hearing that I had woken up, the doctor hurried over and scolded me. “You’re not taking care of yourself at all! Refusing chemotherapy—and not even taking your medication?” “Life is so precious, yet you treat yourself like this? What about everyone who loves you—your family, your friends?” I forced a smile. But it looked worse than crying. “Doc…” Before I could say anything, my phone suddenly rang. It was from the prison. Seeing more than thirty missed calls, a strong sense of unease surged in my chest. “Iris Jackson, your brother Carl hanged himself with bedsheets in a blind spot of the surveillance camera in the cell restroom. Despite emergency medical treatment, he was pronounced dead at 10:03 a.m. today.” I didn’t hear the rest clearly. It felt as if I were being sunk into the deep sea, everything muffled and distant. Ignoring the doctor’s well-meaning advice, I dragged my unsteady body to the funeral home. I stared at the black-and-white photo made from a screenshot of my brother’s wedding picture taken years ago. I cried until I completely lost control. News of Carl’s death spread quickly, and some relatives who had long cut off contact also came to pay their respects. Anna came as well. She walked in holding a wreath, dressed in mourning clothes. The relatives all praised her for being affectionate and loyal, saying that even after so many years of divorce, she still came to see my brother. But I looked at her coldly, my eyes red. “Please leave.” Anna staggered back a few steps in disbelief. Then her tears poured out. “Iris! How dare you talk to Anna like that? You better apologize to her now!” My uncle Aaron Jackson slammed his cane hard against the floor. The others also looked at me angrily. “Yeah, Iris. How can you be so ungrateful? Your brother committed such a grave mistake back then, and Anna was the one who handled your parents’ funerals and all the mess alone!” “And you? You just disappeared back then. Now you come back pretending to be a good sister?” “I heard you took the money and ran off overseas to live it up. Why are you back at this moment? You wanna take advantage of Anna cuz she’s living a good life now?” “Absolutely outrageous!” “I think the one who should get out is you!” My heart hurt so much as if it had been stabbed. “That’s not true, I didn’t!” I was sold by Victor to creditors to pay off debts. For these past years, I repaid the company’s debts by serving them as a slave! I wasn’t ungrateful at all. “It was Victor! He lied to all of you!” “I never went abroad. I’m not like that!” Aunt Zara rolled her eyes at me. Just as she was about to scold me, Anna stopped her. “Please, uncles and aunts, don’t say any more. Iris is Carl’s sister. I did fail to take good care of her.” “She went abroad because she was sick. On a day like today, she must be heartbroken. So I totally understand why she doesn’t wanna see me.” Anna’s sensible, pitiful demeanor only made the surrounding relatives feel more indignant on her behalf. “Sick? I think that’s just an excuse she made up.” “Something happens to the family and she gets sick? How could there be such a coincidence?” “Anna, don’t speak up for this ungrateful wretch. Her parents and brother treated her so well when they were alive, but look at what she did. I still can’t believe she actually ran away at that time!” I laughed. When my family fell apart and my parents were scrambling everywhere to borrow money, they shut their doors and refused to see us. Now, each and every one of them had become deeply affectionate, righteous people. “Uncle Aaron, you don’t get to condemn me. When your factory ran into trouble, my parents paid the twenty million of breach-of-contract fees without hesitation. But when my family had problems, why wouldn’t you even lend us one million?” “And Aunt Zara, when you were sick, my mother stayed in the hospital to care for you. She lost ten pounds in one month. But when my father jumped from the building, you stood by making snide remarks, asking her to follow him in death! If it weren’t for you, my mother wouldn’t have jumped so resolutely!” “Who are the ungrateful wretches here? How dare you two lecture me?” A surge of anger rushed to my head, and blood immediately gushed from my nose. I pressed hard against it, but the blood kept pouring out uncontrollably. Anna walked toward me, reaching out anxiously to support me. I shoved her away with one push. My limbs were clearly weak, and I had almost no strength left. Yet Anna fell straight backward in front of me. “Ah!” Her eyes were filled with terror as her hand reached down toward her lower body. A pool of blood had already spread across the floor. “My baby… No! My baby!” Everyone panicked. Some rushed to call Victor, others hurried to call an ambulance. I leaned against the wall, feeling really dizzy. As I watched them send Anna into the ambulance, I completely lost consciousness as well.

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To celebrate my daughter entering Parsons School of Design, I had ordered her dream car—a custom Ferrari in ice-white with rose-gold accents. But when I arrived at the dealership to pick it up, they told me my wife had already taken it. I pulled out my phone and there it was: My wife’s assistant Gavin’s Instagram story. The photo showed my custom Ferrari, gleaming in front of his townhouse. Caption: “So grateful to my daughter’s godmother for this incredible graduation gift. Bella is over the moon!” Victoria had commented underneath: “Seeing you two so happy is all that matters to me.” I laughed—a bitter, cold laugh. What a masterclass in taking credit for someone else’s gift. I took a screenshot and posted it to my own Instagram: “New policy in my wife’s company: Any employee whose child gets into college, comment and Mrs. Swan will gift them a Ferrari.” The second I hit “post,” Victoria’s call came through. I thought—hoped, even—that she’d apologize. Return the car. Let this blow over. Instead, she was angry. “Ethan, are you trying to embarrass me?” “It’s just a car. Buy Lily another one and move on.” “I don’t have time for this. I’m in the middle of a board meeting. Delete the post. Now.” She hung up before I could say a word. I stared at the phone in disbelief. She had no intention of returning the car. What kind of mother gives her own daughter’s gift to someone else’s child? I was still standing there, chest tight with frustration, when I heard light footsteps on the stairs. “Dad! We should get going—I need to pick up my dress for the gala!” Lily’s eyes were bright with excitement. She’d spent weeks designing that gown herself, pouring her heart into every sketch, every stitch. It meant everything to her. I looked at her eager face and swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. “Let’s go see what my little designer created,” I said, forcing a smile. I couldn’t let Victoria’s cruelty ruin this moment for her. The car could wait. I’d figure something out. On the drive over, Lily chattered nonstop about how she’d pose in the Ferrari once it arrived, wearing the dress she designed. I wanted to tell her. I tried, multiple times. But every time I opened my mouth, I saw that hopeful look in her eyes and the words died in my throat. We parked in front of the atelier. And there it was. The custom Ferrari—Lily’s Ferrari—parked in the most prominent spot outside the boutique. “Wow, Dad, look at that!” Lily pointed, her face lighting up. “It’s so cool. I can’t wait until mine gets here.” My throat tightened. I couldn’t speak. That is yours, I wanted to say. Your mother gave it away. “Yeah… pretty cool,” I managed. “Come on. Let’s get your dress.” But the moment we stepped inside, we both froze. Victoria was there. So was Gavin—her assistant—and his daughter Bella. The three of them were clustered around one of the shop attendants, and the atmosphere was tense. Bella was pointing at something behind the glass display case. At Lily’s dress. “I want that one,” Bella whined, tugging on Victoria’s arm. “It’s a hundred times prettier than anything else here. Aunt Swan, I need it.” Victoria smiled indulgently, turning to the attendant with a look of casual entitlement. “You see how much she loves it. Let’s work something out. Money isn’t an issue.” She said it so casually, as if she were buying a handbag off the rack—not trying to buy someone else’s custom-designed couture gown. Gavin chimed in immediately, his voice dripping with false politeness. “Exactly. Ms. Swan has been more than generous. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. My daughter adores this piece. We’re happy to compensate the original client—double, even. For the Swan Group, money is hardly a concern.” The attendant—Claire—looked like she wanted to disappear. She was sweating, clearly caught between a major client and a breach of contract. “Mrs. Swan, I’m so sorry, but this gown… it’s not part of our ready-to-wear collection. It was designed entirely by a client and commissioned exclusively for her. It’s one-of-a-kind. The contract explicitly states that ownership is non-transferable. We legally cannot—” “Non-transferable?” Bella cut her off with a huff. “It’s just a dress. Who cares who designed it? I want it, and Aunt Swan said I could have whatever I want.” She reached for the display case. “Don’t touch that.” My voice cut through the room like a blade.

Everyone froze. Bella’s hand hovered in mid-air. Slowly, I turned my gaze to Victoria. “Victoria. That dress was designed by our daughter. She spent a month working on it. Every detail. Every line. And you want to take it away from her… for his kid?” Victoria’s face flushed. For a moment, she looked almost embarrassed. Then her expression hardened. “Ethan, stop making a scene,” she hissed. “It’s a dress. Bella loves it. Lily can design another one—or pick something else from the boutique. She’s talented. It won’t take her long. Why are you being so difficult?” Lily’s eyes filled with tears. She stared at her mother in disbelief. “Being… understanding?” I repeated slowly, my voice dangerously quiet. “You think being understanding means giving away everything that’s hers?” Victoria opened her mouth, but no words came out. For once, she seemed to realize how insane she sounded. Gavin stepped forward with an oily smile. “Mr. Hawthorne, please. Let’s not escalate this. It’s my fault—I didn’t raise Bella properly. She’s just a kid. She doesn’t understand.” He turned to Bella with a theatrical sigh. “Bella, apologize to Uncle Ethan and Lily right now. You can’t just take something that someone else designed. That’s their hard work. Do we really deserve to wear something so special?” It was a performance. Every word was carefully chosen to paint us as the unreasonable ones. As bullies. Bella caught on immediately. Her face crumpled. Tears welled up in her eyes on cue. “I’m sorry, Lily,” she whimpered. “I didn’t know you designed it. I just thought it was so pretty… Aunt Swan always says I can tell her what I like. I didn’t mean to…” She sniffled dramatically. “I know I’m just… nobody. My family isn’t like yours. I should know my place. I’m so sorry. I’ll never ask for anything pretty again…” She dissolved into sobs. I had to hand it to them—they were good. Father and daughter, working in perfect tandem. One playing the villain, the other the victim. Victoria’s face darkened. She glanced at Bella, who was now crying into her hands. She looked around the boutique, eyes landing on the most expensive gown in the gallery—a showpiece, price tag in the six figures. “Wrap that one,” she said coldly, pointing. “For Miss Bella.” Claire blinked. “Mrs. Swan, that’s our signature piece. It’s—” “I know what it is,” Victoria interrupted. “How much to have it altered to Bella’s measurements within three days?” Claire hesitated. “The alterations alone would be—” “I’ll pay an extra hundred thousand for the rush order,” Victoria said flatly, pulling out her black card. “Just get it done.” “A hundred thousand?!” Even Claire couldn’t hide her shock. Gavin’s face lit up like Christmas morning. He practically bowed. “Mrs. Swan, you’re too kind. This is far too generous—” “It’s nothing,” Victoria said coolly, signing the receipt. She turned to Bella, her expression softening. “You like it, sweetheart?” Bella’s tears vanished instantly. She threw her arms around Victoria. “Thank you, Aunt Swan! You’re the best! I knew you loved me the most!” Victoria smiled and patted her hand. “Of course I do. If you love it, that’s all that matters.” She swiped her card, grabbed her receipt, and walked toward the exit. She didn’t look at Lily. Not even once. Outside, I watched through the glass as they climbed into the Ferrari—Lily’s Ferrari. Gavin opened the passenger door for Victoria. Bella bounced into the back seat, grinning like she’d won the lottery. The engine roared to life, and they drove away. Lily stood beside me, holding the garment bag with her dress inside. She stared at the taillights disappearing down the street. Her voice was small. Fragile. “Dad… I don’t think I like that car anymore.” I looked down at her and smiled. “Then we’ll get you a better one. Something cooler. I promise you’ll have it before the gala.” She nodded quietly, but her eyes were still wet. I pulled every string I had. Called in favors. Paid triple for an emergency shipment. By the night of Lily’s gala, I had a brand-new Lamborghini Urus in frost pink delivered to the house—keys in hand, title in Lily’s name. Her face lit up when she saw it. For a moment, the hurt was gone. “Dad… this is insane.” “You deserve it, Lily. And a whole lot more.”

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My father commanded Ashford’s underworld, but the only person he answered to was my mother. He was down to a single leg, having lost the other when protecting her from a rival. The night I was born, fireworks lit up Ashford all night long. They made as if the heavens themselves were celebrating the little princess’s arrival. Good days lasted until I was five. That year, a woman looked so similar to my mom returned from abroad and moved into the Vaughn family’s mansion. The first time she saw me, she pinched my cheeks with a sneer of triumph curling her lips. “Little brat, your mother was nothing but my shadow. Your father married her because she looks like me. Now I’m back. You little bastard, and your mother? Just send yourselves out.” Crying, I ran upstairs and told Mom, who was using a knife to scrape off a tattoo that matched Dad’s. Blood covered the floor, but she just smiled. All night, the mansion echoed with the woman’s screams. But Mom held me, patting my back gently. “Lily, did you see the moon tonight? Is it brighter than usual?” I pressed my face to the window as a car approached. “Mom! Look! Dad’s back! He brought Marianne!” Marianne is my favorite doll. She has sapphire eyes as pretty as Mom’s necklace. The next second, it was tossed to the floor. Dad limped inside and soon came out carrying that woman. I shouted, but he didn’t look at me. He stomped on Marianne like it was just trash. By dawn, he returned, eyes bloodshot. I reached for him, hoping for a hug as usual. “Dad…” But he shoved me aside. I lost my balance and hit the floor. It hurt, but I couldn’t cry. Dad slapped Mom. “Iris, what are you doing?! Chloe nearly died! She’s just a little girl. Do you really have to go this far?!” Mom’s gaze was calm. “Sean Vaughn, remember who gave you everything? Now you finally have the nerve to question me?” Dad went pale. “I earned this! Chloe’s carrying my son! She can’t be hurt!” Somehow, Mom smiled. “You treasure her so much, and still dare to bring her here? Did you forget what I told you? If anyone so much as lays a finger on my daughter, I’ll wipe out their entire family.” She walked to him. “Sean, I ask you one last time. That woman called my daughter a bastard, should she be spared?” Dad froze in place. It was that single moment of hesitation that made Mom’s gaze turn ice-cold. She grabbed the knife and shoved it at Dad. “Either stab me now,” she said, “and go live your perfect life with your true love. Or kneel. Kneel and tell me you’ll spend your life at my feet.” I could feel his anger snap, and in a blur, he twisted the knife into Mom’s chest. “Iris, are you fucking done? Things aren’t the same anymore! I’m the boss of Ashford now! You’re still Mrs. Vaughn. That won’t change.” “But Chloe is different. She’s so innocent. She won’t take anything from you.” Mom smiled as if pain had never burst in her body. She yanked the knife out and pressed it to his throat. “Sean Vaughn,” she said, “I gave you the throne so you’d shine in public, not so you’d forget who you are.” “You carry the name Vaughn,” “But this city—” “Belongs to the Hales, the family I was born to.”

Dad’s eyes burned red. He shoved Mom aside, snatched the knife, and pressed it to her face. Mom always said her face was her greatest treasure. I could only throw my arms in front of her. “You’re a monster! You crushed my Marianne! You hit me! And you hit Mom!” “Iris, I just want Chloe’s son to be born safely! I left her ten years ago. I owe her.” “Get a hold of yourself and stop making a scene!” The door slammed shut behind him. A red bloom spread across my mother’s chest, but I didn’t dare touch it. “Mom… does it hurt?” She said nothing. Just looked at me for a long and deathly silence. “Lily, Dad has changed. He no longer deserves to be your father.” That night, I had a nightmare. In the dream, Dad was holding the aunt Chloe, smiling happily. A little boy stood beside them. Then Dad pointed at me, with a cruel voice. “This is your sister. And she’ll be your punching bag from now on. Hit her whenever you like.” I woke up in fright and ran downstairs crying to look for Mom. But Dad had moved Chloe into our house, our rooms. “What a rotten smell… It smells disgusting!” “Sean, these things aren’t good for the baby. I want it my way.” Then he called people in immediately. One by one, Mom’s belongings were thrown out. I lunged for her makeup box. Then Chloe stepped on the back of my hand and jabbed hard at my forehead. “You little bastard, I’m the one in charge here now. Once my son is born, you and your crazy mother will be thrown out of here.” She took out a handful of candy and waved it in front of me, then tossed them onto the floor one by one and crushed them under her high heels. “Want some? Kneel down and bark like a dog, and I might reward you with one.” Dad stood nearby, frowning. “Lily, Chloe’s joking. Come on, be polite and greet her.” Chloe grew smug when I stayed silent. “What, turned into a little mute? Your mother didn’t teach you manners, huh?” Dad said nothing. That was as good as agreeing. Then I saw Mom coming down the stairs. Slowly. Carrying a plate of fruits, a small knife stuck in it. “Chloe, don’t bother with the kid.” She offered the plate. Chloe thought Mom was giving in, so she grinned arrogantly. “So you know what’s good for you.” she said, reaching for the fruit. But in the next second, Mom suddenly pried her mouth open, drove the fruit knife inside, and twisted hard. Her blood gushing out like a red river. Mom wiped her hands with a silk scarf, then patted her face. “You want to teach my daughter?” “Just because you have that little thing in your belly?” “Oh, I’d really like to see if he is a treasure or just… a little bastard.” Mom held the knife and walked toward Chloe’s stomach. Then Dad went mad, shoving her like a man possessed. “Iris Hale, you crazy bitch! How dare you!”

Dad’s eyes were blazing. Anger pushed him to grab a vase and unhesitatingly smashed it down on Mom’s head. “Iris, I said if you hurt Chloe, I’ll make you regret.” Glass and blood spilled down her hair. Still not satisfied, he seized her by the hair and slammed her into the wall. Once. Twice. A blood mark bloomed on the wall. His face twisted—so savage that it even scared me. Mom didn’t scream. She didn’t even frown. Another heavy blow. As Mom slid down the wall, she kicked hard at his prosthetic leg. Then her smile came back, colored by her blood. “Sean Vaughn. I gave you a chance.” “Too bad. A dog will always be a dog.” Dad’s prosthetic flew off. Bracing himself against the cabinet, he glared at Mom viciously. Then his expression changed. His hand went to his waist. I tried to stop him. But he yanked me aside again. “Back to your room!” Thrown to the floor, I scraped a large patch of skin off my elbow. But I didn’t care. Because I saw a group of uncles closing in around Mom. They used to bow and call me Young Miss. Now they followed Dad’s orders and pinned her down. There was a sense of sadness flowing in Mom’s eyes that I couldn’t understand. “Sean Vaughn,” she said, “think carefully.” “Are you ready to throw everything away for a woman from nowhere and a child of unknown blood?” Dad’s chest heaved. “You forced me! Chloe can’t take any more shock! The doctor says she might miscarry!” “You’ll stay in the prayer hall. Whenever you figure it out and decide to apologize to Chloe, let me know.” They started to take Mom away. I rushed forward, wrapped my arms around Dad’s good leg, and bit down hard. I was Mom’s daughter. I wouldn’t watch her be bullied like this. A man reached for me. Mom’s voice turned to ice. “If you dare touch Lily, I guarantee you won’t last the night…” Dad went deadly pale. Then Chloe, lying on the floor, pointed at her mouth. And that look aroused some deep feelings inside Dad’s body. He turned back and grabbed me so hard. “You little bastard. Go repent with your mother!” Mom pulled me into her arms. She didn’t resist as they dragged us away. I wasn’t afraid. Because I heard her whisper— “Lily, don’t be afraid. Dawn is coming.”

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I’ve always had a built-in radar for pick-me girls who hide behind the “one of the guys” act. You could say I’m a walking detector for them. The day my fiancé, Peter Johnson, brought his so-called girl best friend, Abby Smith, home, I sighed. “Fine. You two are the real deal. I’ll sleep outside tonight. The bed is all yours.” Peter stared at me and said, “Are you crazy? Abby is just my bro. I don’t even see her as a girl.” After we went inside, I took out a small notebook and started writing. Peter leaned over curiously. “What are you writing?” “I’m pre-writing how your girl best friend is about to throw herself at you.” “Possibility one. Say she’s hot and strip in front of you.” “Possibility two. Accidentally spill water on your crotch and reach out to wipe it.” “Possibility three…” He swore up and down that his friend didn’t have a manipulative bone in her body and told me to stop assuming the worst. However, later, Abby suddenly screamed, splashed coffee onto his upper thigh, and reached for his pants. “Take them off, quick! We’ve been friends since childhood. Stop feeling awkward already. Let me see if it got burned. I can blow on it for you!” I calmly checked off “spill water on crotch” and shoved the notebook in front of Peter. “Congrats. Bullseye.” Remembering what I said, Peter awkwardly clamped his legs together. “Look at you, overreacting again. She just wanted to help me. There’s nothing between us. Put that notebook away. Don’t let her see it.” Abby still had her hand on Peter’s belt and was smiling. “Kelly, you’re not really mad, right?” “I’ve known Peter for over ten years. When we were kids, I even played with his little thing.” “That’s just how friends look out for each other.” I ignored her and lowered my head to write a new prediction. Peter fastened his belt and frowned at me. “Kelly, is this really necessary? It’s such a small thing. Do you have to make it such a big deal? We’re just friends. Can’t you be more generous?” Abby blinked at me with grievance. “Kelly, if you really mind, I won’t touch him again.” I ignored her and continued writing my new prediction. Seeing that I wasn’t speaking, Peter snatched my notebook and slammed it onto the sofa without even looking. “Stop writing! Who are you acting like this?” “Abby is staying tonight. The guest room isn’t ready. She’ll sleep in the master bedroom. We’ll take the second bedroom.” I picked up the notebook and looked at him calmly. “Okay. Wait a moment.” I checked off “taking the master bedroom.” Peter saw the checkmark. His face turned livid. “When did you write that?” I closed the notebook. “When you brought her through the door.” As soon as Abby heard that, her eyes reddened. She grabbed Peter’s sleeve and started crying. “Peter, I told you that she can’t tolerate me.” She pretended to leave, but she moved slowly. She was clearly waiting for Peter to stop her. Sure enough, Peter grabbed her and turned to yell at me. “Kelly! Do you really have to drive her away like that?” “Abby has a waist problem. She can’t sleep on a hard bed. The guest bedroom mattress is too hard. What’s wrong with you putting up with it for a few days?” I looked at the man I was about to marry. For another woman, he was righteously driving his fiancé out of the bridal bedroom. I didn’t argue. I didn’t get angry. I nodded and walked toward the second bedroom with my notebook. Behind me came Abby’s victorious laugh. “Peter, you’re so good to me. I love you!” “Come on. Enough. Go shower. I’ll come in later and scrub your back.” After closing the door to the guest bedroom, I took out my phone and turned on the hidden camera’s recording function. I had installed it before for theft prevention. I didn’t expect it to be used for this. Sitting on the rock-hard bed, I opened my notebook and wrote down tonight’s prediction.

Sure enough, at two in the morning, the guest bedroom door was slammed open. Abby rushed in crying, wearing only Peter’s oversized white shirt. “Peter! That room doesn’t smell like you. I can’t sleep.” She stepped straight past me and threw herself onto Peter, shrinking into his arms and trembling. Peter woke up groggily. He instinctively hugged her tighter and patted her back. “Don’t worry. I got you. Just sleep…” I snapped on the bedside lamp. Under the harsh light, the scene was painfully glaring. Abby was straddling Peter’s waist. Three buttons on her shirt were undone, exposing a large expanse of skin. One of Peter’s hands was on her completely bare thigh. When the light came on, Abby screamed and buried her head in Peter’s neck. “Kelly, I’m sorry. It was instinctive. This is how I used to sleep with Peter before. You won’t mind, right?” Peter was fully awake now. He didn’t push her away. Instead, he yanked the blanket up and wrapped her tightly, then stared at me defensively. “Kelly, what are you doing? You scared her!” I said nothing. With a blank expression, I pulled the notebook out from under my pillow. I checked off “pretends to be scared and crawls into Peter’s bed,” then held the notebook up in front of his face. “Congrats. Another hit.” Peter’s face turned dark red. The humiliation of being predicted made him snap. “Are you insane? Can you stop writing such stuff?” He shouted and hugged Abby in his arms even tighter. “We’re innocent! She’s just my bro! Stop being so jealous. Everything seems filthy to you!” Abby sobbed in his arms. She pretended to get up. The hem of her shirt lifted, and just as I expected, she was wearing nothing underneath. Peter reacted fast and pressed her back down. “Where are you going? It’s thundering outside! You’re sleeping here tonight!” I picked up my notebook and phone, threw off the blanket, and got out of bed. “Wish you a thunder-proof night. May you have kids early.” I closed the door and left. Lying on the living-room sofa, I opened my phone and saved the footage I had just recorded. Then I wrote tomorrow’s preset in my notebook.

I woke up early the next morning to laughter and teasing coming from the kitchen. Abby was wearing that loose shirt. She was pressed against Peter’s back and holding his hands as she taught him how to fry eggs. “Peter, you’re so stupid. Can’t even flip an egg?” “Stop moving around. That tickles.” They laughed and played around, just like newlyweds. I stood at the kitchen doorway, like an unnecessary intruder. When Abby saw me, she exaggeratedly exclaimed, “Kelly, you’re up! Come taste Peter’s loving fried egg.” Peter adjusted his pajamas. “Go wash up. Don’t just stand there.” “Abby specifically told me to make one for you. Don’t be ungrateful.” I walked into the bathroom and saw my toothbrush thrown into the trash can. There were two toothbrushes in the cup. One was Peter’s. The other was a brand-new pink one. The heads of the two toothbrushes leaned against each other, close and intimate. I carried the trash can out. “Explain.” Abby stuck out her tongue and looked innocent. “Oh, sorry, Kelly. I was half asleep this morning. I thought it was my old toothbrush and tossed it without thinking.” “That pink one is new. I bought it to match Peter’s. Pretty, right?” Peter walked over with a plate and frowned impatiently. “It’s just a lousy toothbrush. I’ll transfer some money to you later. Go buy one yourself. Can you not pick a fight so early in the morning?” I took a deep breath and pulled out my notebook. I checked off “throw away my things.” When Peter saw the notebook, he exploded. “Kelly! Are you done yet?” I held the notebook up for him to see. The next prediction was “feeding him personally.” Peter sneered. “No way. I have hands and feet. Why would I let her feed me?” As soon as he finished speaking, Abby picked up a piece of egg. She blew on it and naturally brought it to Peter’s mouth. “Peter, open up. This one’s a bit burnt. Help me taste it and see if it’s edible.” Peter subconsciously opened his mouth and ate it. He chewed twice and suddenly froze. The air went dead silent. I calmly checked off “feeding him personally.” “Good boy.” Peter’s face turned dark red. He couldn’t swallow the egg, and he couldn’t spit it out either. The humiliation of being predicted pushed him over the edge. “Kelly!” Abby seemed to react late. She dropped her chopsticks and burst into tears. “Kelly, why do you keep targeting me?” “I just fed Peter one bite of egg.” “When we were kids, we fed each other every day. Nothing happened.” “Why does it become a crime with you? Why do you have to target me?” She grabbed a fruit knife from the table and moved it toward her wrist. Peter was terrified. He snatched the knife away and pulled Abby tightly into his arms. When he turned to look at me, his eyes were full of disgust and hatred, as if I were some vicious woman beyond redemption. “Kelly, are you satisfied now?” “You really want to push her to death, don’t you?” I looked at Peter in hysterics, and at Abby in his arms, smiling at me in victory. I nodded. “Fine. I’ll go.” When I dragged my suitcase out, Abby was sitting on Peter’s lap and wiping sweat from his forehead. At the door, I stopped. I threw the notebook, packed full of notes, onto the coffee table. “Peter, this notebook is for you. Consider it a wedding gift.” “There’s one last prediction in it. You can see whether it’s accurate.” Peter picked it up with disdain and flipped to the last page. He snorted. “Crazy woman. Delusional!” He tossed the notebook into the trash and didn’t look at me again. He turned back to comfort Abby. I sat in the cafe downstairs and watched the surveillance footage on my phone. Because I knew my predictions about pick-me girls would not be wrong.

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Everyone in the elite circles knew—Julian loved playing twisted games. Every time he collected ten women, there had to be an elimination round. The ones who survived moved to the next level. Whoever won all one hundred rounds would become his wife. I had made it to round ninety-nine. I was ruthless enough. I’d played every single one of his games without making a sound. Julian’s gaze grew more appreciative each time. He even brought me into his world, making everyone call me “ma’am.” Just when I was about to become the victor, I saw something. Julian had Bella cornered outside the private room door. He was kissing her like his life depended on it. “The fifth bullet,” he whispered against her lips. “That’s the real one.” “Got it,” Bella breathed. — My heart clenched so hard I couldn’t breathe. But before I could process it, the game started. I watched Bella get the rigged turn order—second to shoot. If I kept playing, I would lose. I took a deep breath. Met Julian’s calm, empty eyes. “Hazel.” He swirled his wine glass. “Still want to play? You know I always make sure you win.” The room erupted in knowing laughter. His friends whistled. Their eyes darted between him and me. “Julian’s still got a soft spot for his girl. This round’s a done deal.” “New girl’s got guts challenging her. Doesn’t she know who Julian loves?” “Just quit now. Save yourself the embarrassment.” Bella sat across from us. Her body trembled. But she spoke up, stubborn. “I won’t quit. I want to play.” Julian’s eyes flashed with intrigue. “Interesting.” He smiled lazily at me. “Let’s make this quick, then. I’m looking forward to using the new sex toys with you tonight.” Pathetic. He’d already rigged it for Bella. And he still put on this act like he cared about me. My heart felt submerged in ice water. Numb. I looked up. Met his gaze. “Let’s begin.” I wanted to see if this man—who kept saying he’d let me win—would really watch me take the fall. — The game started. I drew first. Picked up the revolver. Pressed it to my chest. Pulled the trigger. Click. Empty. The room exhaled in relief. Some people even laughed. Bets were placed. Julian’s eyes gleamed. He chuckled softly. “Hazel, don’t worry. I’m always betting on you.” Bella went next. Her hands shook with fear, but she pulled the trigger without hesitation. Click. Empty. Third turn. Me again. Empty. But my heart raced faster. Because Julian said the fifth bullet was real. My whole body trembled. My eyes stung. My vision blurred. The first-turn card—Julian had arranged that too. He *wanted* me to lose. Bella fired the fourth shot. She knew it was safe, but she still whimpered like she was scared. The crowd laughed. “Just quit already. Kneel and apologize. Julian and his girl will let you go.” “Kid, this gun might not be real, but it still hurts like hell.” Bella didn’t back down. She pushed the gun toward me. My heart climbed into my throat. I stared at Julian. Waiting for him to stop this. But he just watched. A faint smile on his lips. No intention of stopping the rigged game. Time dragged on. Julian frowned. “Hazel, don’t be scared. You’ll be the winner. You always are.” My mouth twisted into a bitter smile. My hand shook as I raised the gun to my chest. Bang! The bullet slammed into me. It was rubber—non-lethal. But it still hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. Bella screamed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it would be like this!” Everyone stared at Julian. Faces pale. By the rules, whoever got shot lost. The winner would become Julian’s bride. “Julian, this is—” Julian stood slowly. Looked down at Bella. His voice was ice-cold. “No problem. A deal’s a deal.” He bent down. Scooped Bella into his arms. His movements were steady. Possessive. He scanned the room. His voice cut through the silence. “Hazel, you lost. I’m disappointed. But you’re still the only queen in my heart.” Bella flinched in his arms. But when she looked at me, her eyes flashed with triumph. My chest throbbed. Julian carried Bella toward the door. He didn’t look back at me. Not even once.

The moment his figure disappeared, my tears finally broke free. The game was never fair. Whoever he loved would win. Now I was not the one he loved anymore. I wiped my eyes. Grabbed the wine glass on the table. Drank it all in one go. Outside, I clutched my aching chest. My hands shook as I dialed a number. “You want to get married? Fine. I agree. See you at the wedding in seven days.” — When I got home, I took several painkillers. I’d survived ninety-nine rounds. My body could handle pain. But today, for some reason, it hurt more than usual. I stared at the wedding photo on the wall. By round ninety-nine, Julian had already taken me to get wedding photos done. I’d laughed and asked if that broke the rules. He’d smirked. “My game. My rules. And you’re always the reason I break them.” But now, for someone else, he’d not only broken the rules—he’d watched me get shot like some kind of clown. That night, Julian didn’t come home. I saw the video Bella sent me. Julian with Bella. In every corner of his most luxurious mansion. Evidence of their passion everywhere. The rare black pearl he’d bought me last month at auction? He had it in his mouth now. Rolling it over Bella’s skin. Making her scream. Julian looked feral with lust. I had never seen him like that. “Hazel, you see how addicted he is to me. If you know what’s good for you, leave.” I stared at the message. My fingers went white gripping my phone. I forced the tears back. — When I’d first met Julian, my Nana had just been diagnosed with severe heart disease. We couldn’t afford the hospital bills. Julian appeared like a god. Paid Nana’s fees. Handed me a ticket to the elimination games. He looked at me like prey. A smile on his lips. “It’s just a game. Play it right, and you’ll only benefit.” Even though I wasn’t part of the elite world, I’d heard the rumors. Julian was twisted. He held these games because the woman he loved had betrayed him years ago. After that, he stopped believing in love. He played with emotions for fun. Wanted to see how far women would go to marry him. But I took the ticket anyway. I needed money. I needed to save Nana’s life. — In the game, Julian called himself the King. Sat on his throne. Watched countless women fight for the role of Queen. I gritted my teeth through ninety-nine rounds. Extreme bungee jumping. Locked in a box with snakes. Holding my breath underwater for seven minutes. Eating live spiders. Things that made others scream and break down—I endured them all in silence. One game involved skydiving. A competitor grabbed the only parachute. Slashed my arm with a knife. Left me stranded. The plane hovered over the ocean. In my despair, a crackling voice came through my earpiece. Julian’s voice. Amused. “You’ve won over forty rounds. Didn’t think you’d die here. Any last words?” I closed my eyes. “Transfer the medical fees to my Nana’s account.” I heard his low laugh through the static. Then I jumped. — When they pulled me out, I was in the ICU. Julian came to see me later. His eyes dark. “I’m counting this as a win for you. I changed my mind. The rule was whoever’s boldest wins.” “Still want to play? If you quit now, you get a hundred million.” When he said it, his smile was self-mocking. His eyes, lonely. Something in my heart stirred. I didn’t answer. Just pulled him into a hug. Julian froze. Then, suddenly, he looked overjoyed. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me deeply. “Hazel, from now on, you’re mine. I’ll give you everything.” He threw money at me. Bought me mansions. Gave me ten percent of his company’s shares. Brought me into his world. Made people call me “ma’am.” Even when his old flame came back—tried to humiliate me publicly, begged him to come back—he didn’t hesitate. He smashed a bottle over the woman’s head. Then he said, “Anyone else want to insult my queen? Step forward.” Julian’s favoritism made everyone think I was special. Made *me* think I was special. That I could make him believe in love again. But tonight, I finally understood. It was all in my head.

I turned off my phone. Sat alone in the empty mansion all night. By morning, I heard the lock turn. Julian came home. His expensive suit reeked of someone else’s perfume. The hickeys on his neck were impossible to miss. He saw me sitting stiffly on the couch. He paused. Rubbed his head, annoyed. “Hazel, don’t tell me you stayed up all night waiting for me.” My voice came out hoarse. “Are you going to shower?” Julian froze. Looked at my pale face. My bloodshot eyes. He frowned. Tossed his jacket aside. But there was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He walked over. Tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know. You’re upset because you lost the game.” “Winners and losers—that’s the rule. According to the rules, this was round one hundred. Bella won. I should marry her.” He paused. Pulled a million-dollar pink diamond ring from his pocket. Kissed my neck. “But you’re mine. I’m letting you play one more round. You can take back the crown. This is my gift to you.” “So next time, make sure you win.” Win? I wanted to laugh. I’d had a fifty-fifty chance. He was the one who handed my crown to Bella. The rules were clear. Whoever won the final round would become his wife. Bella won. This ring was just a consolation prize. Julian seemed to remember something. His eyes glinted with challenge. He smirked. “What, Hazel? Not happy? You used to fight tooth and nail to win me over.” He expected me to cry. To yell. Like all the women he’d eliminated before. But I just looked up. My voice calm. Like I was talking about someone else. “No. I don’t care.” “Julian, starting now, I’m quitting the game.” Julian’s expression froze. “Not playing? Say that again.” I lifted my head. Met his gaze without flinching. “Julian, I’m done with your game.” “I’ll leave you. I won’t cling to you. You can be with Bella in peace.” Julian’s breath hitched. He grabbed my arms. But then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered. Whatever the person said made him explode. “Touch her and I’ll kill you all!” He hung up. His eyes went dark. He grabbed my wrist so hard. “Ow! Julian, what are you—” He dragged me to the car without a word. His voice was ice. “Get in. Now. Look what you’ve done.” — I stumbled. He shoved me into the car. Julian drove like a maniac. Didn’t say a word the whole way. We reached an abandoned warehouse. I froze. Bella was tied up. Blood at the corner of her mouth. Julian rushed over. Untied her. Pulled her into his arms. His eyes were red. “Bella, don’t be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Bella clung to him. Sobbing. Then she looked at me. “Miss Hazel, if you don’t want me near Julian, I can leave. But why did you have to send people to hurt me?” I took a deep breath. Looked only at Julian. “Julian, I didn’t send anyone. Do you believe me?” Julian held Bella protectively. But when he looked at me, his eyes were full of disappointment. Disgust. “She’s an orphan. She doesn’t cause trouble. Who else would hurt her except you—jealous because she won?” “If you can’t handle losing, Hazel, you’re the one who can’t play the game.” My fists clenched. My nails dug into my palms. “Julian, I said I didn’t do it!” “Julian…” Bella’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’m okay. I don’t blame Hazel. She just loves you too much.” Julian sneered. Turned to leave with Bella in his arms. But he called over security guards. “The new queen was bullied by the old one. The old queen needs to be punished.”

The guards were professionals. They immediately twisted my arms behind my back. “Mr. Voss, how should we punish her?” Julian glanced at me. Then softly asked Bella, “You decide. You’re my new queen.” My heart shattered again. After every elimination round, Julian used to give *me* the power to punish the losers. I was soft-hearted. I always just told them to leave Julian alone. No punishment. But now, Bella put on an innocent face. Her lips curled into a cruel smile. “Julian, I don’t really know the rules. Whatever punishment was used before—let’s use that now.” Julian understood immediately. He looked at me. Tried to read my expression. But all he saw was dead silence. His anger flared. He held Bella tighter. Spoke through gritted teeth. “Didn’t you hear the queen’s order?” — I was dragged into the mansion. Pinned to the floor. They whipped me with salt-water-soaked leather. In the next room, Julian and Bella were tangled together. Their moans mixed with my screams. The sounds filled the entire house. My skin split open. But my heart hurt more. I remembered the day in the hospital. When we’d kissed deeply. Confirmed our feelings. Julian had wanted to stop the game then. Didn’t want me to get hurt anymore. But the elite players had bet hundreds of millions on the game. It wasn’t just Julian’s anymore. They wouldn’t let it stop until the final round. Julian had held me. Eyes red. “Hazel, I promise. From now on, I’ll never let you lose.” And I’d lived up to that. Fought with everything I had in every round. Of course, some competitors hated me. Teamed up to cheat. Tried to kill me. But I, fueled by my love for Julian, always found a way to survive. Always ended up in his arms, victorious. Those women who’d schemed against me? They were tied up just like this. Forced to listen to Julian and me all night. But now, it was my turn. Julian had finally let me get hurt. They went at it all night. At dawn, Julian came out in a bathrobe. I heard him say, “Call my doctor. Treat her properly. Don’t let her die.” I lost consciousness. — When I woke up, I was on the couch. Julian’s jacket draped over me. “You’re awake? Mr. Voss took Miss Bella to the victory gala. He said to get dressed and meet them there.” The butler’s face was neutral as he relayed the orders. My voice was raspy. I grabbed my bag. “Sorry, I need to go to the hospital. My Nana’s having surgery today. Julian knows this.” Julian had been the one to find Nana’s heart donor. It was my reward for passing round ninety-nine. But the butler had security grab me before I could leave. “What are you doing? I said I’m not going! Julian knows—today is Nana’s heart transplant!” I fought back. But my bones screamed in pain. The guards forced me into a dress. Didn’t even let me take my phone. Shoved me into the car. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Julian used to go with me to visit Nana every month. But today, he broke his promise. For another woman. To celebrate a stolen victory. — At the gala, Julian and Bella were already there. So were all the elite players. I wore a backless dress. My wounds were on full display. People whispered. Julian’s eyes darkened. He walked over with his arm around Bella’s waist. “Hazel, today’s about celebrating Bella’s win. As a former competitor, you should congratulate her. But you came empty-handed. Are you trying to embarrass her?” Bella bit her lip. “Maybe she thinks I didn’t deserve to win. After all, she won the first ninety-nine rounds.” I cut through the act. Stared straight at Julian. “I already quit. I don’t have to congratulate her. Julian, today is Nana’s surgery. Let me go.” Julian’s face flashed with surprise. Then it darkened. “On such a good day, you want to bring up something depressing?” My chest ached. “What do I have to do for you to let me leave?” “What do you have to do?” Julian’s eyes glinted. He kissed Bella in front of me. “Let my new queen decide.” Bella pretended to think. Then she grinned. “How about Hazel strips naked, kneels in front of me, and barks like a dog three times?” My breath stopped. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. And then Julian laughed softly. “Fine.”

I stared at him. “Julian, what if I refuse?” Julian’s smile was cold. Mocking. “When have you ever had the right to say no to me?” He signaled his friends. They all started shouting. “Didn’t you hear the lady? Get on your knees! Bark!” “You lost everything. And you still think you can negotiate with Julian?” These were the same people who used to call me “ma’am.” Now they’d all turned on me. Became Bella’s cheerleaders. My heart clenched. Went numb. Security guards stood behind me like a wall. I couldn’t escape. Julian was unpredictable. If I resisted, it would take even longer. And I needed to see Nana. Right now, dignity didn’t matter. “I hope you keep your word. After I do this, let me go.” My voice broke. Slowly, I undressed. Got on the floor. The room gasped. Woof! The first bark. Laughter exploded around me. I swallowed my tears. Barked again. Someone kicked me. The third bark came out. Julian’s voice cut through the noise. “Enough.” “Get her out of here.” — I sobbed as I grabbed my clothes. Threw them on. Stumbled out of the room. It was pouring rain outside. I finally flagged down a car. Rushed to the hospital. I burst into Nana’s room. Empty. I searched frantically. Then I saw the operating room doors open. A doctor wheeled out a body covered in a white sheet. A hand hung from under it, wearing the silver bracelet I’d given Nana. My blood turned to ice. “Nana!” I screamed. Threw myself at the body. The doctor sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could. She wanted to see you one last time. We tried calling, but your phone was off. We had no choice but to proceed with the surgery…” I couldn’t hear the rest. The world spun. I collapsed. — When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. A nurse came in to adjust my IV. She looked worried. “Miss, I know you just lost someone you love. But you need to take care of yourself. Especially now that you’re pregnant.” The words hit like a hammer. “What did you say?” My voice shook. “I’m pregnant?” “Yes. You’re three months along. Haven’t you noticed anything?” My hand trembled as I touched my stomach. I’d once imagined marrying Julian. Having his child. But it had to happen now. When he didn’t love me anymore. The door opened. Julian walked in. Holding half a piece of cake. “Hazel, you embarrassed me today.” His voice was cold. Accusing. “Bella felt bad that you didn’t eat. She saved you some cake.” My hatred surged. The mangled cake looked like a slap to my face. “You didn’t stay with Nana. You came here to fake being sick just to get my attention?” “GET OUT!” I grabbed the cup on the table. Threw it at his face. Julian dodged. His eyes flashed dark. “Ungrateful. You’re nothing compared to Bella.” He turned. Slammed the door. My pain and grief finally broke free. I sobbed uncontrollably.

For days, Julian paraded Bella around. Showered her with affection. I handled Nana’s funeral alone. The day of the burial, the sky was thick with clouds. Rain poured down. Meanwhile, Julian was at an auction. Bidding on a rare diamond for Bella. I returned to Julian’s mansion. Packed all my things. Took my suitcase to a small rental apartment. When Julian realized I wasn’t at the mansion, he called. Demanded to know where I was. I didn’t answer his question. Just said, “Julian, the game’s over. We have nothing to do with each other anymore.” — One day later, Julian found me. He looked at my tiny apartment. Wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Hazel, you’re living in this dump? You want to leave me this badly? This is just playing hard to get.” My face was cold. “None of your business. Get out.” But Julian’s eyes narrowed. He had security restrain me. “Let’s go. Bella wants to take you to an auction.” — I fought, but I was no match for the guards. They brought me to a massive private estate. Underground, there was an auction hall. The owner kept a giant python. He held events where the wealthy watched it feed. Bella was already there in an elegant gown. “Hazel, they’re doing a python feeding show. But I think it’s boring.” On stage, a cage held a thirteen-foot golden python. It was tearing into a chunk of bloody meat. “You won ninety-nine rounds. Handling a snake should be easy for you, right? Julian, I want to see Hazel tame the python.” My blood ran cold. The tiny life in my stomach seemed to sense danger. It trembled. “Are you insane? This could kill someone!” Julian looked at my pale face. For a moment, his eyes softened. He leaned close to my ear. His voice coaxing. “Hazel, you know what I hate most about you? You’re too stubborn. If you’d just acted weak, I would’ve let you win.” “I’m giving you one more chance. Beg me. And I’ll make sure you win the final round.” But I just stared at him. My eyes dead. I let out a hollow laugh. “Julian, my biggest regret is joining your game in the first place.” Julian’s face twisted. Bella chimed in, her voice sickly sweet. “How can you be so ungrateful? Julian’s giving you a chance. If I were you, I’d be so thankful. If you don’t play, it just means you don’t really love him.” Julian’s eyes flashed with rage. He shoved me hard. Spoke through clenched teeth. “Put her in.”

Security threw me into the cage. The python saw me. Treated me like prey. Its body tensed. It slithered toward me, tongue flicking. “Ahh!” I tried to dodge. But the snake wrapped around my leg. “Julian, please! Let me out!” My scream was piercing. “I’m pregnant!” But the crowd was too loud. No one could hear me. Julian frowned slightly. Tried to make out what I was saying. But Bella hooked her arms around his neck. Whispered in his ear. “Julian, she looks like she’s having so much fun. I want to play too. Let’s go backstage…” Julian’s throat bobbed. Without hesitation, he scooped Bella up. Carried her toward the back. — I had been bitten multiple times. The python coiled tighter around my body. Started to squeeze. I couldn’t break free. I was suffocating. My face turned purple. “Ahhh!” Finally, I let out a blood-curdling scream. The audience realized something was wrong. “Oh my God, the snake’s gone feral!” “That woman’s bleeding—call an ambulance!” — When I regained consciousness, I was in a hospital bed. My lower abdomen burned with tearing pain. I threw off the blanket. My stomach was flat. The baby was gone. My blood felt frozen. A wave of unbearable grief crashed over me. I screamed. Nana was already gone. This baby had been my only family left in the world. Why? Why did Julian have to kill my child? Why did he take away my last shred of hope? “No!” — The door opened. Julian walked in. His face was flushed from sex. Fresh hickeys covered his neck. He glanced at me dismissively. A hint of mockery in his voice. “I heard you got your period. That’s why you were sent to the hospital?” “Hazel, this isn’t like you. You survived ninety-nine rounds. You’ve never been this dramatic before.” I took a deep breath. Ignored the pain. Stood up. Then I used every ounce of strength I had and slapped him across the face. “Julian, I hope you rot in hell.”

The madness in my eyes made Julian freeze. He ran his tongue over his cheek. His eyes darkened. He grabbed my wrist. “Have I been too lenient with you lately?” But then his phone rang. His expression changed. “Bella, I’m on my way. Don’t be scared.” “Bella’s stomach hurts. I need to go. And I canceled the lease on your new apartment. Stay here and behave.” He left without looking back. I stared after him. Frozen. Then I made a call. My voice shaking. “Before you come get me, I need you to help me stage something.” “Make it believable. I need him to think I’m dead.” — I hung up. A message popped up on my phone. Bella, curled up in Julian’s arms, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “Hazel, see? Even when you’re hurt by a snake, one word from me and Julian leaves you behind.” “He doesn’t love you. Even after you almost died for him, he only loves me. You’re pathetic.” I gripped my phone so hard it hurt. Tears blurred the screen. — Hospital security guards blocked the exits. I had nowhere to go. I stayed in the bed. Every time I closed my eyes, I had nightmares. I dreamed of the ninety-nine brutal games. Julian’s cold gaze. Nana dying in a hospital bed. The baby I never got to meet. — A day later, Julian came back with Bella. “Hazel, are you okay?” Bella’s voice was fake-sweet. “Julian really cares about you. Even though you’re like this, he still wants me to compete with you fairly one more time.” “If you don’t play, it means you don’t really love Julian. That you don’t want him at all…” This time, I turned. Looked straight at them. “Fine. I’ll play.” Julian’s eyes lit up for a split second. Bella froze. Hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. Hatred flickered in her gaze, but her voice stayed soft. “I’m happy to compete fairly. But this time, I get to decide the rules.” Julian stroked her head affectionately. “Of course. You won last time.” Bella’s smile turned vicious when Julian wasn’t looking. “Last time we played Russian roulette, you lost. You must’ve been so frustrated.” “So this time, let’s play with a gun again. How about it?” My expression stayed eerily calm. I nodded. “Fine.” “Then it’s settled.” Bella’s eyes gleamed with calculation. “Julian, let’s go prepare. We shouldn’t disturb Hazel while she rests.” Julian felt a flicker of unease he couldn’t explain. But Bella pulled him away before he could think about it. — The next night, we were brought to a cliffside. A table. Two chairs. A black handgun sat in the center. The barrel gleamed cold in the moonlight. Bella and I took our seats on opposite sides. Julian’s Bentley pulled up. He stepped out slowly. Sat in a luxurious throne-like chair. A bodyguard held champagne beside him. “When the game ends,” he said softly, his gaze drifting between Bella and me, “I’ll announce on the spot that I’m marrying the winner.” “Now. Begin.”

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On the day of the UN Summit, I noticed a new smartwatch on my husband’s wrist. Julian claimed it was a gift from Chloe—a device to monitor his heart rate—mocking me for not being as “caring” as his high school sweetheart. I found it suspicious. During his lunch break, I secretly checked it and discovered a sophisticated spyware bug hidden in the casing. In a panic, I reported it to the Bureau, using my hard-earned ten-year promotion to cover for his “negligence.” Chloe became a federal fugitive. During her escape, she died in a fiery car wreck. Julian pretended to grieve the right way, telling me she deserved it while becoming the “perfect” husband. But it was a trap. During a high-stakes meeting, he leaked my classified translation files, framing me as a foreign asset. “Clara, you’re the one who planted that bug,” he hissed as the feds dragged me away. “You were just jealous of Chloe. You wanted her dead!” I’ll never forget the cold fury in his eyes as he tied me to the back of his car and dragged me across the asphalt for miles. “Go to hell and beg Chloe for forgiveness!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Chloe gave him that watch. This time, I didn’t say a word. I simply signed the divorce papers. — “Clara, can you stop being so uptight? You think Chloe would actually hurt me?” Julian’s irritated voice snapped me back from the shock of waking up in the past. Our argument caught the attention of our team members. “Team Lead, that smartwatch on your wrist—didn’t you report it?” One sharp-eyed translator spotted the device and tried to help. Julian’s jaw tightened. “It’s a personal gift. I don’t need to report personal items.” “But that’s against Bureau proto—” He cut them off with a glare. “I’m the team lead on this assignment. If there’s a problem, I’ll handle it.” The translator glanced at me, helpless. I lowered my eyes. Last time, I’d been terrified he’d make a career-ending mistake. So I’d checked that watch behind his back, found the bug, and traded my decade-long shot at promotion to save his skin. All I got in return was his insane revenge. I’d never forget the feeling of asphalt tearing my flesh as he dragged me behind his car for miles. A flash of hatred crossed my eyes. “Team Lead knows what he’s doing,” I said coolly. “We don’t need to micromanage him.” Julian’s expression softened slightly. Then Chloe appeared, dragging her suitcase, breathless and theatrical. “Julian, take me with you! I haven’t been abroad in forever.” The translator didn’t hesitate. “No. You’re contract staff. You’re not cleared for an assignment this sensitive.” “The delegation list was approved by the Director personally. Even Team Lead can’t add or remove personnel.” Chloe’s eyes immediately filled with tears, weaponized and ready. “Julian, I didn’t realize you had so little authority as team lead.” “And why does your team check with your wife before answering? I didn’t know Clara was running this operation.” Julian’s face flushed red. “Who’s the team lead here, me or Clara? You all listen to her so well—maybe I should request a staff replacement!” No one dared speak. He softened his tone just slightly. “Chloe’s contract staff, which means she needs learning opportunities to advance. That’s why she’s coming with us.” “That violates protocol,” I said. My voice was flat, cynical. Julian’s expression hardened. He stared at me, eyes full of undisguised fury and warning. “I know you’re jealous of Chloe, but don’t bring personal feelings into work.” “Anyone who disagrees can remove themselves from this assignment.” The team’s faces paled. This was a career-making opportunity. No one wanted to lose it. Julian swept his gaze across the room, arrogant. “If you don’t want out, shut up. Or pack your things and get the hell out of the Translation Bureau.” I swallowed my anger and said nothing. Julian, this time I won’t interfere. Let’s see how this plays out for you.

After we landed in New York, everyone spent the evening prepping for tomorrow’s summit. Everyone except Chloe. “Julian, I’ve never been to New York! Can you take me sightseeing?” Right in front of me, she wrapped herself around his arm without shame. “There’s a dress I can only get here. Come shopping with me? I’ll wear it for you tonight.” I frowned. “We have work to do.” She rolled her eyes, voice dripping with contempt. “You have all these people. Why does the team lead need to be involved?” “Julian’s one of the primary translators tomorrow. His work can’t have errors. If you two want to fool around, wait until after the summit.” Chloe immediately turned to Julian with a wounded expression. “I just wanted to buy a dress. I didn’t mean to interfere with work. Does Clara have to humiliate me like this?” “I know she didn’t want me to come. Fine, I’ll buy a ticket home right now!” She made a show of heading for the door. Julian pulled her into his arms, then turned his fury on me. “People with dirty minds see everything as dirty! Clara, if you bully Chloe again, you’re out of tomorrow’s summit!” Several team members who liked me looked ready to explode, but I stopped them. Because I knew—the more Julian and Chloe played these games now, the worse their ending would be after the summit. Julian still had some sense of self-preservation. He didn’t abandon the prep work to take Chloe shopping—just promised to go after we finished. Chloe was dissatisfied but agreed. Then she started targeting me. At dinner, she complained she couldn’t eat “white people food” and demanded I cook her congee. When I refused, she ran to Julian. He used both his authority as team lead and husband to force me to play maid. By the time I delivered the congee to the hotel room, she was wearing my pajamas, curled against Julian’s chest watching TV. When she saw me, her smile turned triumphant and vicious. “Thanks so much, Clara.” “Oh, I forgot to pack pajamas, so Julian gave me yours. You don’t mind, right?” “These are so ugly though. No wonder Julian’s not interested in you. When we get home, I’ll buy you some pajamas Julian actually likes!” I forced down the rage bubbling in my chest. “Keep them.” I handed over the bowl. She tilted her head, lips curving into a meaningful smile. “Julian says you’re a great cook. I’ve been dying to try it.” She stood and took the bowl. Her voice dropped to a whisper only I could hear. “Bitch, you’ve been blocking my Bureau application, haven’t you? Then I’ll just steal Julian from you instead. Fair trade.” The next second, the bowl crashed to the floor. Most of the scalding congee splashed on me, but she screamed like she’d been murdered. “Julian, it’s so hot! If Clara didn’t want to cook for me, fine, but why did she have to burn me on purpose!” Then Julian’s hand connected with my face. “Clara, when did you become this vicious? Apologize to Chloe. Now!” I’d had enough. I glared at them both, then stormed out of the room. Looking at the mess covering my clothes and my scalded, reddening arm, my hatred for Julian reached its peak.

When I arrived at the team briefing after cleaning up, everyone looked uncomfortable. “What happened?” They exchanged awkward glances. “We went to get Team Lead for the meeting, but Chloe was in there… He said he’s busy and canceled tonight’s briefing.” Someone muttered under their breath, “This is ridiculous. Pre-mission briefings are Bureau protocol. How can he just cancel? And with you here, his wife, he just—” I dug my nails into my palm to keep my expression neutral. “I’ll check on him.” I pushed open Julian’s door to the sound of Chloe’s girlish laughter. She sat on his lap, one hand hooked around his neck, posing for her phone camera with exaggerated coyness. When she saw me, her smile widened. “Clara, don’t misunderstand. Julian and I are just really close siblings.” Julian gave me a dismissive glance, letting Chloe continue her performance on his lap. “Don’t act superior just because you’ve been at the Bureau longer. If you want to keep this marriage, apologize to Chloe.” “And when we get back, talk to the Director. Get Chloe’s contract-to-permanent transfer approved.” I wanted to slap them both and scream “I’m divorcing you!” But rationality won over rage. Not yet. Not the right time. I clenched my fists until my knuckles went white. “The Bureau isn’t my family business. The Director isn’t my father. I can’t just get contract staff promoted on a whim.” Julian laughed coldly. “You got that commendation last week, didn’t you? Trade your medal for a permanent position slot. Should be easy for you.” I took several deep breaths. Don’t engage with garbage people. “I came to tell you we’re having the team briefing. Everyone’s waiting for you.” Before Julian could respond, Chloe cut in irritably. “Are you all useless? It’s just a briefing. Why does Julian need to attend personally? Did you all get into the Bureau through connections and backdoor deals?” Her hands started wandering across Julian’s body. “Julian promised to spend tonight with me. He can’t break his word. I prepared several sexy costumes!” Julian’s eyes filled with lust. Whatever professionalism he had evaporated. He looked at me coldly. “Get out. Do I need to throw you out? You’re killing the mood. I don’t know what my mother saw in you when she picked you as a daughter-in-law.” He scooped up Chloe and headed for the bedroom. Soon, obscene sounds of laughter and moaning filled the suite. The sounds stabbed into me like needles. Once, Julian and I had been sweet together. But everything beautiful ended the moment Chloe appeared. Last time, I thought he’d just been deceived by her. After waking up in the past, I finally understood—this was the real Julian.

Maybe satisfaction made him magnanimous. The next morning, Julian looked refreshed and energized. Chloe walked with a slight wobble but looked at me with undisguised smugness. “Julian, I’m not official delegation, so I won’t go to the venue and cause problems. I’ll wait at the hotel. Do your best!” Julian’s expression was sickeningly indulgent. “Our Chloe is so understanding. Unlike some people who only know how to ruin the mood.” He shot me a pointed look. I laughed silently. Was it consideration? Or guilt? Julian, you have no idea what’s coming. Because of the summit’s high security classification, all attendees underwent a final security screening before entering the venue. My team members and I passed through smoothly. Julian didn’t. The metal detector wouldn’t stop beeping. Security pulled him aside. “Please wait, sir. We need to conduct an additional search. Your cooperation is required.” The security officer’s tone left no room for argument. Other delegates stared with curiosity. Julian’s face flushed. “I’m the Translation Team Lead. You think I’d violate protocol?” He waved his ID at the officer, but they weren’t impressed. “I’m sorry, sir. Regardless of your position, you must comply with our screening. Please remove all items from your person and place them in this tray.” “Comply?” Julian’s eyes went cold. He turned to me. “Clara, you’re deputy team lead. Handle this.” I shrugged helplessly. “Sorry, Team Lead. I can’t help with this. But if you haven’t violated protocol, just let them search. I’m sure the truth will speak for itself.” The other team members nodded in agreement. Julian’s eyes turned bloodshot. “Clara, kicking someone when they’re down? You’re really something. When we get back, I’ll make sure you regret this.” I ignored his threat and followed security with my team to the screening room. As Julian’s colleagues, our belongings would be re-screened as well. The results came quickly. The security supervisor walked to Julian with the smartwatch, expression deadly serious. “Mr. Smith, we detected a micro-surveillance device in your smartwatch. Your summit credentials are revoked. You need to come with us to Homeland Security for questioning.”

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Thanksgiving morning, my doctor wife told me once again she had a few emergency surgeries and couldn’t come home with me to visit my parents. But the second I checked Instagram, I saw my wife in Jason’s post, carving a turkey at what looked like a countryside kitchen, surrounded by strangers. The caption read: “Dad says having a surgeon for a daughter-in-law is great. Even carves turkey like a pro.” I just laughed coldly, hit like, and left a comment. “Makes sense. Professional training.” Colleagues immediately started blowing up the group chats, all thinking I’d finally lost it over my wife. Claire’s call came through right away, and I could already picture her frowning in annoyance. “Jason’s having a big family day. I’m just helping them out. What’s with your passive-aggressive bullshit?” “His family doesn’t have any women around. This feast is a huge deal and they can’t handle it themselves. I’m just lending a hand. What are you making a scene for?” “Withdraw the like and delete the comment right now. Don’t make Jason’s life difficult at the hospital. You hear me?” “I’ll pick another time to go back with you. Okay?” Another “I’ll pick another time.” But Claire only knew how to feed me empty promises, over and over again. I was done eating them. Done waiting. After this Thanksgiving weekend, once I got the divorce papers, our seven-year marriage would be finished for good. I didn’t respond to Claire and for the first time ever, I hung up on her myself. She lost it and my phone rang again immediately. I rejected it and blocked her, just like she always did to me when she was pissed. My parents looked over with concern. “Ethan, you and Claire…” Meeting their worried eyes, I smiled at them and took a couple bites of food, acting like it was nothing. “We can’t make it work. Getting divorced soon.” Mom sighed and patted Dad’s arm, forcing herself to sound upbeat as she called for everyone to eat. My phone buzzed with a notification from Jason posting a long apology in the work chat. “Just having some fun with everyone. Thanks to Dr. Reynolds for being cool about it. If this bothered anyone, my apologies.” But the words were dripping with smugness. Claire replied quickly. “Young people should have some energy. Nothing to apologize for. Whoever’s bothered is just being petty.” Actually, I wasn’t bothered at all. Getting to cut ties with Claire clean? That was perfect. Once the Medical Director made her stance clear, everyone instantly knew which side to pick and they all started chiming in. “The hospital’s usually so dead anyway. Jason’s sacrificing himself to keep things lively. We should thank him.” “Who knew Dr. Reynolds was just as skilled with a knife outside the OR? Jason’s got it made!” “Haha, everyone knows there’s only ONE person at our hospital who’s that petty.” Watching them continuously trash me made me feel pathetic. Because half the people kissing Jason’s ass were surgeons I’d trained personally. Back then they were sucking up to me constantly. Now, I was just “that person” they mocked. Claire was the Medical Director. She favored Jason, so Jason became the golden boy in everyone’s eyes. Never mind that this hospital only existed because of my techniques and my entire life savings. None of it could compete with Claire’s shameless favoritism. I laughed bitterly, turned off my screen, and tried to pull myself together to have a proper meal with my parents. Then Claire actually called my mom’s phone. Mom looked at me, lost. I sighed and finally answered. But before I could say anything, I heard Claire’s cold, emotionless voice. “Is Ethan there with you? Put him on. I need to talk to him.” In that moment, I regretted picking up. She had the nerve to call my mom’s phone to find me, but couldn’t even say “Mom” when my mother answered. Something clenched in my chest. “What do you want?” Hearing my voice, Claire’s tone turned even colder. “Jason’s previous surgery patient is showing signs of post-op infection. You need to get back to the hospital right now and perform a second surgery.” Her voice was commanding, brooking no argument, ordering me around like I was a damn dog. Rage suddenly flared inside me. The patient needed cardiac septal grafting and even if I performed it, I couldn’t guarantee better than fifty-fifty odds. But Jason wanted to climb to department head, so he shamelessly begged me for that surgery. I knew his half-assed skills couldn’t handle it and I refused outright. But Claire’s head was full of nothing but Jason and without a word, she transferred the patient to Jason. I fought her on it. Claire said rookies need experience, told me not to be so concerned with personal gain and loss. A human life was just a stepping stone for her boy. Now there was a problem, and she wanted me to clean up Jason’s mess. Did she really think I was some kind of sucker? I refused directly. “I can’t come back. Whoever screwed up takes responsibility. If you can’t stand watching, then you do the surgery yourself. You’re his guarantor anyway.” “I’m eating with my parents right now. They thought you were coming back, made a whole spread. Can’t let it go to waste. If that’s all, I’m hanging up.” I was about to end the call when Claire suddenly screamed on the other end. “Try hanging up on me! Ethan, have I been giving you too much slack lately?!”

Her scream was so loud and even startled my mom, who was hard of hearing. She turned to look at me, worry all over her face. I forced down the rage building in my chest, walked outside with my phone, and lowered my voice to snap back at her. “What the hell are you yelling at me for?” The other end went silent for a moment. Then Claire got pissed too. “I know you’re mad I broke my promise, but I already said I’d make time to go back with you. What more do you want?” “Jason’s surgery-you’re doing it whether you like it or not. Otherwise, we’re done.” Perfect. I didn’t want to stay with her anyway. I was about to tell Claire we were getting divorced when I heard Jason’s voice on the other end. “Claire, the food’s ready. Your dad’s calling you to eat.” Then I heard Claire cover the phone and respond in a voice so sweet it made me sick. “I’m just handling some hospital business. I’ll be right there. Tell Dad I said so.” I laughed. “So Dr. Reynolds has found herself a new father? Don’t want to keep your old man waiting.” “Oh right, I forgot… I’m the petty one.” Jason must not have walked away yet because Claire hissed at me in a furious whisper. “Jason’s from a small town where people gossip. I’m his boss. What’s wrong with helping him save face? What’s with your passive-aggressive crap?” “I’m telling you, Ethan, you’ve got three days to do that surgery. Otherwise, get the hell out of my hospital!” She hung up. I stood outside my parents’ house in the wind, feeling empty inside. But just after I’d decided I definitely wasn’t going to be her scapegoat this time, the Chief of Surgery called. He said someone reported me for performing surgery while drunk, causing a medical malpractice case, and I needed to get back immediately to deal with it. In that moment, I felt like I was losing my mind. My breathing got rapid. “Sir, you’ve got this wrong. The patient had congenital hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. He was already critical when he came in.” But the Chief sent me a copy of the complaint. My head started buzzing and I didn’t even finish dinner before rushing back to the hospital in a panic. Facing the Chief’s reproachful look, I requested to confront my accuser. The Chief didn’t say anything, just brought out a witness to identify me. But this witness, the anesthesiologist from that surgery, was Jason’s good buddy. Realizing what was happening, I exploded with rage. “Sir, he’s Jason’s guy. He could be framing me.” I couldn’t find proof, so my defense sounded weak. But a sharp, angry voice cut me off. “Enough!” Claire pushed through the door, looking at me with pure disgust. “You did the wrong things and still to drag Jason. You hating him! Trying to destroy him!” “Ethan! I thought you were just petty, but at least professional in surgery. I never imagined you’d be this shameless!” “Do you know how serious it is to fake medical disputes? I never thought you’d gamble with a patient’s life like this! Someone like you doesn’t deserve to be a doctor! Doesn’t deserve to be my husband!” I stood frozen, my throat feeling like it was stabbed with a thousand needles. After a long time, I finally managed to speak. “Claire, in your heart, do you really think I’m the kind of person who’d kill a patient out of jealousy?” Claire’s chest heaved as she looked at me with dark eyes. “What else?” “I saw it myself. The fridge at home is full of beer bottles.” One sentence sealed my fate. The Chief issued my termination on the spot and my colleagues’ spit landed on me. I was still in shock, just finishing packing my things to leave, when the patient’s family rushed over and kicked me to the ground. “You bastard! Why did you kill my son? Who told you to drink?” The woman kicked me over and over, then started slapping my face. My vision went blurry and the woman got dragged away while I crouched on the floor picking up my scattered belongings. Then Jason’s voice suddenly came from behind me. “Ethan, you got what you deserved.”

Isn’t he the one who orchestrated all this? And here he is pretending to be surprised? I laughed coldly and shot back. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I just think working with trash like you lowers my value. That’s why I quit.” Jason’s smile grew wider and he put on this smug, arrogant look, raising his voice to point at me. “Ethan, you’re a doctor. Now you’ve caused a malpractice case. Sure, you resigned and ran away, but when the patient’s family comes to the hospital to make trouble, it affects the hospital’s reputation.” “I suggest you get on your knees and apologize to everyone here. Otherwise, why should we have to deal with the fallout you created?” He looked around, waiting for someone to back him up. I thought this was ridiculous, turned around, and started to leave. But Jason wouldn’t let it go and rushed forward to block me. I tried to dodge him and the instant we passed each other, he dropped to the floor on his ass. Claire’s voice rang out immediately. “Jason! Are you okay?” She ran to Jason’s side, asking him with concern all over her face, then turned to glare at me with absolute fury. “Ethan! If you’ve got a problem, go get help! Why the hell are you pushing people around? Apologize to Jason right now!” Before I could respond, Jason started playing the good guy. “Claire, don’t get mad. I’m just worried Ethan’s malpractice case will hurt the hospital. He didn’t mean to push me…” Bringing up the malpractice case got Claire fired up again and she demanded with furrowed brows. “I asked you to cover one surgery and you refused a hundred times. Now the patient’s got problems. What are you going to do about it?” “I never realized before that you’re the kind of person who treats lives like a joke!” I thought it was hilarious and immediately asked her back. “So when you helped Jason frame me, you weren’t treating my life like a joke?” Then I looked at the guilty-looking Jason with narrowed eyes. “Scum like him? He’ll get you killed sooner or later!” Claire immediately shielded Jason and threw my words back at me. “Ethan! Stop attacking people! You got drunk and screwed up a surgery-who’s fault is that but yours? This is your fate!” All my rage got stuck in my throat and finally just turned into a bitter laugh. It’s always like this. Whenever Jason’s involved, she’ll defend him unconditionally, even if it costs me my career. I couldn’t find evidence yet, so I had to take the fall. Too lazy to argue with them anymore, I picked up my box and tried to leave again. But Claire wouldn’t let it go and grabbed my sleeve. “You think resigning fixes everything? I’m going to notify every hospital in the city! I’ll get you blacklisted from the entire industry!” I turned my head slightly, giving Claire and Jason a contemptuous look, and said calmly. “Go ahead. But before you send that notice, you should probably go pay respects to that patient.” “Just in case his soul hasn’t moved on yet and comes back as a ghost to collect what you two owe him in the middle of the night!” After saying that, I ignored their guilty wide eyes and walked with big strides toward the hospital exit. Claire’s always been like this, always ready to assume the worst about me. So the second the patient died, she blamed me. She wanted me to take the fall to protect Jason. But none of that mattered anymore. After leaving the hospital, I found a realtor and listed the house I’d bought in full when Claire and I got married. The young agent said excitedly that the market was good lately and the house would sell for a lot. I just told him flatly that the place was kind of messy, so when he found a buyer, just get someone to haul everything out with the trash. I didn’t want a single thing that belonged to Claire. Then I went to the courthouse and before closing time, I walked out with my divorce decree. She probably forgot herself that she was the one who threw that divorce agreement in my face in a fit of rage. Remembering I’d forgotten to tell Claire to move out of the house, I drove home to lay it all out. The whole drive, I imagined what her face would look like when she saw the divorce papers. But I didn’t expect her to give me a surprise first. The smart lock on my door suddenly wouldn’t open.

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The Whitmore and Lancaster families have been allies for generations, holding a grand gala every year where marriage matches are decided through a “blind selection.” For seven years straight, every slip my childhood sweetheart Asher Whitmore and I drew was blank. Because I was deeply in love with Asher, for the eighth gala’s selection, I pulled every string I could to ensure the box contained only his name. Until I overheard his mother’s frustrated question. “Asher, you’ve always said you’d marry no one but her. Why have you spent seven years replacing the slips in the selection box with blanks?” “Watching her cry in disappointment every year—doesn’t it hurt you?” The man laughed softly. “Of course it hurts.” “But Bianca just came back from abroad. Her mental state is fragile. I promised to help her through seven years of recovery.” “Besides, that fool won’t marry anyone but me.” “Next year, I’ll give her a grand proposal.” With that, he fed the slips bearing his name into the paper shredder. And in that instant, I was set free. After all, Grandfather had said it himself. The family alliance only gave me eight chances. Since you don’t want to marry me, I’ll simply marry someone else. …… “The sound of that shredder really is more pleasant than your crying.” Asher adjusted his cuffs and pushed open the door to the lounge without a care. Outside, the hall was ablaze with chandeliers and filled with designer gowns. This year, it was my family’s turn to host the selection gala. Also my last chance. He didn’t even spare a glance at me standing in the corner, face unreadable. He walked straight toward Bianca, who was surrounded by a swarm of socialites. “Asher!” Bianca’s eyes reddened as she threw herself into his arms like a startled doe. “They’re saying I don’t belong here, that I’m the other woman trying to break you and Serena up…” Asher’s brows furrowed, his sharp gaze sweeping across the room and landing on the gossiping women. “Who dares say she doesn’t belong? My word is law in this circle.” “Bianca is my honored guest. Anyone who makes her uncomfortable makes me uncomfortable.” The room fell dead silent. The women turned pale, looking desperately toward me as I stepped out from the lounge. After all, for the past seven years, I had been Asher’s girlfriend—the only woman he allowed by his side. He gave me everything I asked for. But year after year, the selection failed, and I never became his fiancée. Everyone expected me to march over and slap Bianca across the face, or break down in tears like I had for the past seven years, demanding to know why he was protecting another woman. But this time, I simply smoothed the folds of my dress, picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray, and took a sip. The cold liquid slid down my throat, drowning the last flicker of affection I had for my childhood sweetheart. “Serena, aren’t you going to do something?” someone whispered hesitantly. I smiled. “Mr. Asher playing hero? Why would I get in the way? Besides—” I swirled my glass, eyes glinting with amusement, “—I’m curious to see what we’ll draw from the selection box tonight.” Asher froze, turning his head instinctively to look at me, as if he hadn’t expected this reaction at all. In the past, by now I would’ve been sobbing and making a scene, demanding Bianca leave. But tonight, I was as calm as a bystander. A flicker of irritation crossed his eyes as he let go of Bianca and strode toward me. “Serena, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now? Bianca just got back from overseas. She’s fragile. She can’t handle being frightened.” “You’re the daughter of one of the most powerful families in New York. Can’t you be a little more gracious?” Gracious? I looked at the man I’d loved for over a decade and suddenly, he felt like a stranger. Seven years. Over two thousand nights. I had molded myself to fit his tastes, softened my edges, learned to cook his favorite meals. And what did I get? My sincerity, shredded to pieces in that machine. “Asher.” I set down my glass, the crystal clinking sharply against the marble table. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I just think you’re right—Miss Bianca is so delicate. She really does need someone to take care of her during her recovery.” Asher froze, staring into my eyes, searching for jealousy or resentment. But there was nothing. Only a calm, lifeless stillness. That loss of control unsettled him. He reached for my wrist. “Good. You understand. After tonight, next year—” “There won’t be a next year.” I stepped aside, avoiding his touch, my tone as detached as if I were discussing the weather. “Grandfather said it himself. Nothing lasts beyond eight tries. Tonight is the eighth.” “If we draw blanks again, then we’re done.” “Let’s part on good terms.”

“Part on good terms?” Asher looked like he’d just heard the funniest joke in the world, his lips curling into a mocking smile. “Serena, how many times are you going to play this little game of hard-to-get?” “Two years ago, you said you were going to study abroad. Then you called me crying at the airport.” “Three years ago, you said you wanted to break up. Then you stood in the rain all night and ended up with a fever.” “Can you even leave me?” He was certain, confident, even a little condescending in his pity. Because in his mind, I was nothing more than Asher’s shadow. And how could a shadow ever leave the light? He also knew something I didn’t—he’d personally made sure tonight’s box was filled with nothing but blanks. There was no way either of us could draw a name. No way this charade could end tonight. Beside him, Bianca covered her mouth with a soft laugh, her eyes sparkling with mockery. “Serena, I know you’re upset, but Asher’s only looking out for me. Don’t say things like that just to spite him.” “What if it backfires? Who else would want you after this?” “After all, everyone in New York knows you’ve been waiting for Asher for seven years. You’re practically a running joke at every party.” A joke? She was right. For Asher’s sake, I’d turned myself into a punchline. I looked at Bianca’s fake, saccharine face and suddenly remembered what I’d overheard earlier at the lounge door— “Besides, that fool won’t marry anyone but me.” So that’s what I was to them. My devotion? Foolishness. My persistence? Desperation. “You’re overthinking it, Miss Bianca.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, smiling gracefully. “My family’s wealth is beyond measure. I am the sole heir to everything.” “The line of men wanting to marry me stretches all the way to Paris.” “But you, Miss Bianca.” My gaze dropped to where she clung tightly to Asher’s arm. “I heard you spent seven years overseas recovering from an illness.” “So why is it that now you’re back, you still can’t seem to stand on your own two feet?” “Should I call an ambulance? Maybe they can take you straight to the morgue for a checkup.” “You—!” Bianca’s face turned red, trembling with rage. Tears welled up instantly and began streaming down her cheeks. “Asher, did you hear what she just said…?” Asher’s expression darkened. “Serena! That’s enough! Apologize to Bianca!” “Apologize?” I raised an eyebrow. “Why should I?” “Because she’s your precious little darling? Or because she’s shameless?” “Asher, have you forgotten? This is my family’s gala tonight.” “I’m the hostess here and I have every right to put an outsider who doesn’t know her place in check.” Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Asher’s mother hurried over, and when she saw the scene, her brows furrowed deeply. “Enough! Stop making a scene! You’re embarrassing yourselves!” She shot Asher a glare, then turned to me, her expression complicated. “Serena, it’s almost time. Don’t let irrelevant people ruin what matters.” Asher’s mother genuinely cared for me and genuinely hoped the selection would finally succeed tonight. But her beloved son had destroyed that possibility with his own hands. Asher took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, wrapped an arm around Bianca’s shoulder and patted her soothingly. Then he turned to me, his tone ice-cold. “Fine. If you want to go through with this so badly, then let’s begin.” “Let’s see, when we both draw blanks again, if you can still run your mouth like this.” He was so confident because he knew—he’d replaced every slip in that box with blanks just this morning. There was no possible way for this selection to succeed. With that, he turned and walked toward the raised platform in the center of the hall. There sat an ornate rosewood box—the very thing that would decide my fate. I watched his retreating figure, my gaze growing colder. Asher, you think you’ve controlled everything. But you don’t realize—the roles of hunter and prey can reverse in an instant.

Center stage, crystal chandeliers bathed the room in dazzling light. Every eye in the hall was fixed on the rosewood box. According to tradition, the box contained one hundred slips of paper. Our families alternated each year—one year Asher would draw, the next year I would draw. If Asher drew a slip with my name, or if I drew a slip with his name, it was fate—a match made in heaven, and I would become his fiancée on the spot. Draw a blank, and destiny hadn’t aligned. Try again next year. For the past seven years, we had taken turns drawing. And every single time, the slip was blank. I thought God was testing our love. But now I knew the truth—Asher had been replacing the slips all along, ensuring we’d always draw blank. “Serena, go ahead.” Asher’s mother stood below the platform, smiling encouragingly. “I had your astrology chart read. They said your stars are aligned this year. You’ll succeed.” Stars aligned? Maybe. But not with Asher. I lifted the hem of my gown and walked up the platform step by step. Asher stood beside the box, one hand in his pocket, expression arrogant, looking at me like I was a child throwing a tantrum. “Serena.” He lowered his voice so only I could hear. “Apologize to Bianca right now, and next year, I’ll make sure you draw the right slip.” “Hell, you don’t even have to wait until next year. As long as you behave and stop targeting Bianca, I’ll consider ending this game early and making you my fiancée.” A game. That’s what it was to him. Seven years of torment, my youth, my dignity—nothing more than a game he could end whenever he felt like it. I stopped in my tracks, standing across from him, only a few feet apart, but our hearts were worlds away. “Asher.” I looked into his eyes and asked softly, “Do you really think I can’t live without you?” Asher paused, then laughed mockingly. “What else? Who else would put up with your spoiled attitude? What other family is worthy of yours?” “Serena, face it. You’re destined to be mine.” He was so confident, confident to the point of arrogance. He thought he’d found my weakness and could trample on my boundaries however he liked. He also thought the box was full of blanks—there was no way I could draw a name. I lowered my gaze, hiding the scorn in my eyes. “Is that so? Then let’s see who’s the one who should face reality.” I took a deep breath, slowly raised my right hand, and reached into the dark box. My fingers brushed against cold paper—one slip, two slips, countless slips. Each one felt like a blade slicing through my heart. The crowd below fell silent. Bianca stood at the front, a victor’s smile playing on her lips. She knew the box was filled with nothing but blanks—she was waiting to watch me humiliate myself in public, to see me cry. Asher glanced away casually, as if he’d already foreseen the outcome. I closed my eyes, my fingers searching along the bottom of the box. Finally, I found a slip that felt slightly different. It was the one I’d had someone slip in before the gala—my last safeguard. I snapped my eyes open, gripped it tightly, and pulled it out. “Mr. Asher.” I held up my slip high, my voice clear and ringing across the hall. “It seems your promise just expired.”

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After the Mafia Council’s memory-stripping procedure, I forgot Damian Moranti— the Don, my husband, the man I’d loved for seven years. I forgot the parents who had branded me a disgrace. With a body torn raw by ninety-nine lashes, I walked out of the Mafia world for good. Everyone assumed I was just throwing a tantrum. They thought I’d come crawling back soon enough, unable to give up the privileges of being a Donna, begging the family for shelter. Until the day a convoy of black sedans surrounded my wedding venue, and armed Mafia enforcers locked down the entire area in seconds. A secretary from the Moranti family pushed through the crowd to me and demanded. “All these years—why have you never once contacted Don Damian? Do you have any idea he’s waited five years for you?” I tightened my grip on my husband’s arm and asked, genuinely puzzled, “I’m sorry. Who is… Damian?” The air froze. A short distance away, a man in a black suit stood absolutely still. His eyes rimmed red, staring at me as though I might vanish if he so much as blinked. … … The day I discovered my husband Damian was sleeping with my cousin Isabel, our wedding had only just ended. The guests hadn’t even left, and I couldn’t find my new husband anywhere. I gathered up the train of my dress and went from one empty guest room to another, until I finally found him on the terrace of our bridal suite. Beneath the moonlight, Damian Moranti—heir to the Moranti family, the next Don—had my cousin Isabel pressed up against the railing. Isabel’s gown was shoved up around her waist, her legs locked around him. Most of the buttons on Damian’s shirt were undone. One of his hands gripped the railing; the other cupped the back of her neck as he kissed her, deep and frantic. Their breathing carried sharp and clear on the night wind. I stood in the shadow of the French doors, and somehow my heart slowed instead of racing. So here it was again. Everything in my life eventually ended up in Isabel’s hands. Isabel was my uncle’s orphaned daughter. Her parents had taken bullets meant for my father during an arms deal. From the time she was twelve, she’d lived under our roof. I sent her to the best schools, brought her into my social circle, arranged a respectable, comfortable office position for her in the family business. She was bright, sweet, charming with everyone—a soft, blooming rose. My friends, the elders of the family, even my own parents—their attitude toward her had shifted from polite acceptance to genuine, undisguised favoritism. “Isabel is so much more likable than you.” I’d been hearing that since I was a child. And now, even my husband of seven years was no exception. I stepped out of the shadow. My heels rang sharp against the marble tiles, and at last they heard me. Damian whipped his head around. I walked up to him, raised my hand, and slapped him across the face. What happened next happened very fast. I just heard Isabel scream and lunge forward, grabbing my arm. “Victoria—don’t hit Damian, it’s all my fault—” Then something shoved me backward, hard. My back struck the railing, and my whole body pitched over the edge. Wind howled past my ears. When I woke up, I was in the family’s private medical center, and Damian was sitting beside my bed. He looked like he’d been in that chair a long time. But the moment my eyes met his, I knew—he wasn’t here to ask after my injuries. “Victoria, what happened tonight… it was an accident. I had too much to drink. I mistook her for someone else. It will absolutely never happen again.” He paused, weighing his words. “Don’t blame Isabel. It was all my fault. And you know she’s struggled with depression ever since she lost her parents. She’s been through enough. Don’t hold it against her, all right?” I looked at him, and a small, bitter laugh almost escaped me. “Damian, the only reason you’re saying any of this is because you’re afraid I’ll make a scene. Afraid it’ll affect Isabel’s standing in the family. Right?” His face darkened. His fingers clamped around my wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind me, very precisely, who held the authority in this room. “Victoria, you’re the Donna now. Every move you make reflects on the family.” “This ends here. Don’t drag everyone into something uncomfortable.” The warning was naked in his eyes. Once, I would have agreed without hesitation. Now I just turned my gaze quietly away. He looked like he had more to say, but at that moment his second-in-command Carlo pushed open the door and murmured something near his ear. I caught the words Isabel and too distraught. Damian stood at once, tugged his cuffs straight, and slipped back into that clipped, professional tone: “There’s a problem with a shipment at the border. I have to handle it. Get some rest. And this matter—it ends here.” He emphasized it once more, then turned and walked out fast, without looking back. He didn’t return for the rest of the night. I lay there for I don’t know how long, watching the sky begin to lighten at the edge of the window. Then I picked up my phone and dialed the family Council. “I’m petitioning to leave the family.” The voice on the other end registered surprise. “Victoria? You’re the Donna. Do you have any idea what leaving the family means?” “You don’t get out without having your skin flayed off by the lash and surviving the agony of the memory-removal procedure!” “I know.” “Then you—” “I’ve made up my mind.” My voice was steady and clear. “I’m leaving.” A silence. Then the voice resumed its customary chill. “The Council will accept your application through confidential channels. In seven days, if you survive, you’ll be free to go.” “Good.” I hung up the phone and slept better than I had in years. On the third evening, I came back to the estate alone from the medical center. I pushed open the door of the great room and stepped into a party in full swing. “Beautiful work, Isabel—three new clients at the arms expo!” “Made the family proud!” Isabel stood in the center of the crowd, wearing a perfectly calibrated smile of modesty. Damian stood beside her, posture relaxed, an unmistakable look of approval in his eyes. The atmosphere chilled the moment they noticed me. A flicker of discomfort crossed Damian’s face. He stepped forward. “Vic? Why did you come back on your own? You should’ve called—I would’ve sent someone.” He reached out by reflex to support me. I stepped sideways to avoid him. “What? Am I disturbing you all by coming home?” The air turned awkward. “Of course not.” Damian recovered, and pressed an elegantly wrapped little box into my hand. “Perfect timing. This is a gift we got for Isabel to celebrate. She’s done so much for you—it should come from you.” I didn’t want to argue. I simply held the box out. Isabel reached for it. But the moment our fingers touched, the box dropped, and the jade ornament inside shattered into pieces on the floor. Isabel’s eyes brimmed instantly with tears. “Victoria… you still won’t forgive me, will you? I really didn’t mean to that night… I’ve been so worried about you…” Every gaze in the room swung onto me. “Victoria, that’s enough. Think how hard things are for Isabel.” “She saved your family. Today is her celebration. Can’t you let her enjoy one peaceful day?” I looked at them. My eyes settled, last, on the face full of disappointment. The husband I had loved for seven years. “Enough.” Damian’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried that weight that didn’t need to be raised to make a room go silent. He came over to me, leaned down, and spoke low—just for the two of us. “Victoria, stop making a scene. We’ve talked about this. It’s over. Even if you’re upset, look at where we are.” His hand pressed down on my shoulder, the gesture intimate on its surface, but the pressure increasing steadily, pushing me down without a word. I drew in a breath, turned my body, and shrugged his hand off. “That won’t be necessary. I came back to pack. I’m moving out.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before Isabel burst into tears. “Victoria, what does that mean… are you trying to drive me away?” She turned to Damian, the tears spilling down her cheeks, her voice thin and helpless. “Damian, you promised me…” Damian’s brows pulled into a deep furrow. When he looked at me, the thin layer of patience in his tone had vanished entirely. “Victoria, do you really have to push this to this point?” I opened my mouth to explain. I didn’t get the chance. “Victoria! You’ve gone too far!” “You’re throwing Isabel out? How is she supposed to survive on her own?” “Her parents died saving your father, and this is how you treat her?” The voices came at me from all sides, pinning me where I stood. And my personal secretary, Natalie—the woman I’d thought of as a sister—stood there with one hand patting Isabel’s back, giving me a pained, reluctant look. “Victoria, please stop targeting Isabel… she’s already suffered enough.” I looked at Natalie. Three years ago, she’d been bound to a chair as a hostage, covered in blood. I had crept alone into that abandoned warehouse, taken out two guards, and carried her on my back for three city blocks. Afterward she had clung to me, sobbing, swearing she would never forget what I’d done for her as long as she lived. Now she stood across from me, taking the side of the woman who’d slept with my husband. “Natalie, this is a private family matter. And what I said was that I’m the one moving—” “That’s enough, Victoria.” Damian’s voice cut me off. One arm wrapped around Isabel’s shoulders; the other extended in front of her, shielding her like something fragile and precious. “Natalie’s only speaking up for Isabel out of fairness. The truth is, you’re still holding a grudge over that night. But Isabel has suffered enough. If you have a problem, take it out on me. There’s no reason to take it out on her.” His eyes were ice, fixed on me. In that instant, it struck me that explanation was the most pointless thing in the world. I swallowed back what I’d been about to say and turned to leave. Isabel suddenly lunged forward and seized my arm, her nails biting into my skin. The tears came harder. “Victoria, please don’t be angry… I promise I’ll never speak to Damian again from now on…” I jerked my arm on instinct, trying to shake her off. I really hadn’t used much force. But Isabel went stumbling backward and crashed onto the carpet. I reached out to help her up. Damian shoved me away. The force of it sent me staggering two steps back. “Don’t touch her!” He crouched at once and gathered Isabel up like a piece of porcelain that might fall apart in his hands. It was the first time I’d ever seen him so undone, and a dull pain bloomed in my chest. “Damian, my ankle… I think I twisted it…” Isabel’s voice trembled, her weakness pitched at exactly the right note. Damian lifted her and stood. When his eyes turned to me, there was nothing in them but cold and disappointment. “You knew her health was fragile, and you still did this.” He carried Isabel toward the door. As he passed me, he didn’t look back. “Victoria, you are a disgrace to both families.” A disgrace to both families. Those words went through me like a knife, from sternum to spine. Once they were spoken, every other person heading for the door turned to look at me with mocking amusement. I stayed where I was, spine ramrod-straight, refusing to bend. The last young man to pass me deliberately raised his voice. “Some people just can’t stand to see anyone do better than them. Grown woman, jealous of the person who saved her family. No conscience at all.” My lashes trembled, just barely. Then it was quiet, as if the entire world had been emptied out and only I was left. No—maybe a long, long time ago, I had only ever had myself. The light was failing. I picked up my coat and walked out. The Council’s chamber was on the east side of the city, three stories beneath an unremarkable gray building. Iron doors, code locks, signal jamming—it was the coldest heart of the Mafia world. The man receiving me was an older Council member, hair neatly combed, every strand in place. His eyes were a cold, washed-out white, like a machine wearing the shape of a person. “As Donna, you should know what’s in your head—the family’s dealings, networks, contacts up and down the chain. None of it can leave with you.” “I know,” I said. “The memory-removal procedure is scheduled for three days from now. But before that—” He opened an iron door behind him. Inside was a dim cell. Cement floor. A single iron post, with newly-replaced leather restraints around its base. In one corner sat a bucket of saltwater and a soaked rawhide whip. “Ninety-nine lashes.” His voice was without inflection. “This is the price every member who chooses to leave must pay.” Then, finally, he raised his eyes to mine. “You still have the right to choose.” I didn’t answer. I walked to the post, and without hesitation took off my coat. Two large men in black suits stepped out of the dark, and a moment later I was lifted off my feet, my wrists bound to the post above my head. Behind me there was only the whoosh of leather slicing through air as they warmed up. Then— “Begin.” Crack. The first lash came down. I bit through the wooden block in my mouth. The saltwater-soaked rawhide tore into my skin like red-hot wire being driven into flesh, then ripped out again. The second lash. The third. The pain spread from my back through my whole body, blackness pulsing across my vision. My blouse soaked through with blood, plastered to my back, the fabric tearing free of the wounds with every new strike. I didn’t make a sound. I closed my eyes, and the images rose behind my lids—Damian’s open shirt, Isabel’s legs locked around his waist, his back as he carried her away without a single look back. By the time the ninety-ninth lash landed, there wasn’t an inch of unbroken skin left on my back. Blood ran down past my waistband and pooled in a small dark puddle on the cement. The old Council member tossed the keys to the man beside him and stamped a document without lifting his head. “Three days from now, eight a.m., come back here for the memory extraction. After that, you’ll have forgotten everything connected to this world.” “Then you’ll be free.” I lay face-down on the freezing concrete, shaking from head to foot, unable to tell anymore whether it was pain or cold. But there was only one thought in my head. Three days. Just three more days. I would forget everything about Damian, and then I would be gone from him—completely.

The men in black suits dumped me at the gates of the estate. The night air was thick with dew. No servant came out to ask whether the unimportant Donna had returned safely. Certainly none of the people gathered around the traumatized Isabel. I didn’t have the strength to climb the stairs. I sank sideways onto the great-room sofa and wrapped a throw blanket around myself. My back stuck to the fabric, and every breath tugged at fresh wounds. I don’t know how much time passed before the click of the front door turning startled me awake. Footsteps—soft, the muffled tread of dress shoes on carpet. A lamp clicked on, and in its yellowish light, Damian was standing in front of the sofa. He was still in his suit. Stubble had darkened his jaw. He didn’t look like he’d slept either. “Why are you sleeping out here?” He sat down on the arm of the sofa, and only then did I see the long box in his hand. Inside lay a silver chain holding a polished bullet, its surface gleaming, set in a platinum mount. “Came to see you. Brought this with me.” I glanced at it and didn’t move. “You didn’t have to make a special trip.” He shook his head. “This chain isn’t like the others.” He set the box on the coffee table and absently brushed his fingers across the pendant, his gaze going somewhere far away. “It makes me think about the years we’ve had together… that ambush in the south district warehouse, seven years ago. You took that bullet for me. Half an inch from your heart. Do you remember?” Of course I remembered. After they’d dug it out, he’d had the bullet polished into a pendant and put it around my neck himself. He had taken my hand and said— “From this day on, my heart belongs only to you.” But now, the words stirred nothing in me at all. “We’ve been through so much together.” He lowered his voice, deliberately gentle. “We’ve survived so many close calls. To freeze each other out over something like this… Victoria, it really isn’t worth it.” Something like this. “Vic—” He leaned closer. The lamplight fell across my face. “You look terrible. What’s wrong?” He reached out to touch my face. I flinched away on instinct. His hand froze midair. And just like that, the small flicker of real concern in his voice was gone. “Things have been hard for Isabel in the family lately. There’s gossip everywhere—saying she seduced your husband, that she traded on her debt to your father. Her depression was bad enough to begin with. Now she’s worse. She can’t even function at work.” He looked at me, his gaze steady, expectant—as if what he was about to say was the most natural thing in the world. “Have a word with the Council. Get the rumors shut down. Say you were mistaken about that night at the wedding. Get her back to her position.” I looked at him. The lamp threw his shadow against the wall, his profile sharp and beautiful as ever. But every expression on his face was one I knew intimately—he wasn’t asking. He was assigning. “Damian, in what capacity am I supposed to do this? As your wife?” He raised an eyebrow, as if it were a stupid question. “You are my wife.” “But I don’t want to be anymore.” The air froze for half a second. Confusion shifted to anger on his face, fast. “Victoria, would you stop with this.” “How many times do I have to explain that what happened that night was an accident? How many more childish things are you going to say before you’re satisfied?” I didn’t argue. Argument requires hope, and mine had drained out with the ninety-nine lashes. He must have read my silence as surrender. His tone softened a little. “Get some rest tonight. Take care of the situation with Isabel as soon as you can.” He stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt. “I’m going to the hospital to check on Isabel. She needs someone with her.” The door closed. His footsteps faded. I reached out and pulled the jewelry box toward me. The silver bullet pendant glinted coldly in the lamplight. But on the side of the mount, etched into the platinum, was not the V I remembered. It was a tiny line of script: LOVE ISA. I turned the pendant over three times to be sure. Then I got up, walked into the bedroom, and opened the safe. My own necklace was lying inside, untouched. Engraved on the back of its bullet pendant was a single V. The one he had brought me wasn’t mine. It was the one he had given Isabel. I stared at those two small words for a long time. Then I laughed once, softly. And as I laughed, the tears came. So a long, long time ago, he had already given his heart to someone else. I returned both necklaces to the safe and locked it. Then I started packing. I didn’t have much. One suitcase, a few changes of clothes, my passport, my own gun. Before sunrise, I’d submitted all the transfer paperwork, and I was checked into a motel in town. The motel room was small. Nothing like the perfectly climate-controlled air of the estate. But I had never felt so at peace. The day before the procedure, my phone rang. It was Damian. I hesitated three seconds, then answered. “Get to the family medical center. Now. That’s an order.” His voice was hard, edged with the tone of a man who expected obedience. I hadn’t yet completed the formal departure. Legally, I was still under Moranti jurisdiction. I had no right to refuse. But the moment I stepped onto the inpatient floor, I saw a row of people lining the hallway, and the air was deadly. Damian saw me, and his face caught fire. He crossed the space in three strides and grabbed my upper arm. The lash wounds on my back—still raw beneath the black fabric—exploded into pain. “Tell me! Why did you do this?” “You knew Isabel lost her parents young. You knew about her depression. And you sent someone to terrorize her?” “Victoria, when did you get so vicious?” It was about Isabel. Always Isabel. “It wasn’t me. I haven’t seen her this entire time.” The next instant, a slap landed across my face. It was my mother, Helen, whom I hadn’t seen in months. The day of my wedding, she had told me family business was too pressing for her to attend. But here she was now, ashen, eyes red-rimmed, looking at me with pure hatred—on Isabel’s behalf. “Victoria! Are you even human?” Her hands were shaking. So was her voice. “Isabel is your sister! I treated Isabel like my own daughter! How could you do this?” My father, Vincent, stood behind her. What he said cut deeper than any slap. “The greatest regret of my life is bringing a monster like you into this world.”

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I am a Soul Guide, walking the veil between life and death. When a wolf’s heart stops, if their soul reaches my hands before midnight—before the Moon Goddess seals The Threshold—I can ferry them back to the living world. In my past life, Silas came to me broken. The acrid scent of gunpowder and raw desperation clung to him as he stood in my doorway. He begged me to save Seraphina, the pack doctor who’d been ambushed during a rogue hunt. I agreed to help her. Three months later, Silas courted me with a display of dominance and honor. He presented me with his claws—trophies from every kill he’d made defending the Great Pack Alliance. “I swear on my Alpha blood,” he growled, amber eyes molten with intensity. “I will protect you for the rest of our lives.” We mated in a ceremony before the entire Blood Moon Pack. Every wolf witnessed our bond snap into place. I didn’t know that when I went into early labor, Seraphina,the same she-wolf I’d pulled back from death,would slice my belly open with a silver blade. She tore my pup from my womb while I screamed, the metallic tang of my own blood flooding my mouth, choking me. Blood pooled beneath me, warm and sticky, as I begged Silas to save our child. His eyes flashed cold,He strapped an incendiary device to the pup’s blanket. “Soul Guide?” His lip curled back, exposing canines. “You’re just a fraud who got lucky.” “I only mated you to make Seraphina jealous. You told the Alpha King before I could back out. You forced my hand. You made her cry.” “If you’re really a Moon Seer, then save yourself and this bastard pup.” The fire consumed us both. The smell of my own burning flesh was the last thing I knew. When I opened my eyes again, I stood in front of my door. Silas stood on my porch, shoulders heaving, eyes red-rimmed. Begging me to save Seraphina. This time, I slammed the door in his face. “The Goddess chooses who lives and dies,” I said through the wood, my voice hard. “I’m just a fraud, remember? I can’t help you.”

“Elara! Please, you have to save her! She’s so young…” Silas’s voice cracked through my skull like thunder. My body jerked. I stared at the Alpha standing before me in blood-stained combat fatigues, fists clenched at his sides. The burn of silver still seared my skin. I scanned my surroundings. Antiseptic sharp enough to make my wolf recoil, fluorescent lights humming overhead, the rhythmic beeping of monitors. The Pack’s main healing den. My breath caught. I’d been reborn. In my previous life, he’d stood just like this. Broken. Desperate. His wolf whimpering beneath his skin, begging me to resurrect Seraphina from death’s door. I’d spent every ounce of power dragging her soul back from the Moon Goddess’s realm, felt my own life force drain away with each whispered incantation. Then they murdered me. Murdered our pup. Never again. I met his desperate gaze with ice. “No.” Silas’s head dropped. His shoulders shook like he’d taken a physical blow, his wolf’s anguish bleeding through the bond all Alphas project. I turned to leave. A young enforcer sprinted toward us, nearly tripping over his own boots. “Alpha Silas! Doctor Seraphina—she’s awake!” Silas and I both froze. We burst through the door. Seraphina sat propped against pillows, skin pale as moonlight but lips curved in a radiant smile. Silas rushed to her bedside, his large hand engulfing hers. “Sera, you’re okay. Thank the Goddess.” His head whipped toward me. Eyes narrowed to slits, wolf rising behind them. “Elara. So much for your ‘gift’ of seeing death coming.” “You heartless bitch. You refused to help her out of spite.” “Thank the Goddess Seraphina saves lives every day. The Goddess’s grace brought her back. If she’d died, her blood would be on your hands.” Every wolf in the room turned hostile eyes on me. The air thickened with their combined aggression,raising every hair on my arms, making my wolf snarl in warning. Seraphina squeezed Silas’s hand, her voice soft and sweet as poisoned honey. “It’s okay. Maybe Elara is still angry with me…” Silas snarled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, rattling the windows. “Angry about what? You earned your position as pack doctor through skill!” “Soul Guide? Moon Seer? You might fool the others, but not me. You’re a charlatan, and I’ll never let you endanger my wolves.” The same man who’d nearly fallen apart moments ago now looked at me like I was his sworn enemy, his scent turning acrid with rage. His voice dropped to a lethal rumble that made lesser wolves back away. “You’re jealous Seraphina became pack doctor. So you let her die.” “A snake like you? I should rip your throat out right now.” I watched him rage for Seraphina, his chest heaving with each breath, muscles coiled tight. My mind drifted. He’d been the same in my past life. The smallest scratch on my skin made him shift half-feral with protectiveness. A papercut made him weep, cradling my hand like it held his entire world. I shoved down the twisted feeling in my chest. Then I noticed the wisp of smoke curling behind Seraphina’s shoulders, visible only to those who are dying. Recognition slammed into me. She wasn’t healed. This was the death surge—the final brilliant flare before the soul departs. She had twelve hours. Maybe less. Her smug expression made my decision easy. Last time, I’d saved her life. She’d repaid me by cutting my pup from my womb. This time, I’d let Fate take its course.

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