Category: English

My younger sister Ella had a rare disease. The slightest touch would leave her covered in bruises, and a fall could shatter her bones completely. She was our family’s “porcelain doll.” Growing up, the words I heard most often were that I had to protect Ella at all costs. So when she fell down the stairs right in front of me, I didn’t hesitate to throw myself beneath her. Ella was fine. But I broke my leg and would be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. After that, the words I heard most often changed to: “Anna, Ella will be grateful to you.” My parents’ praise made me even more devoted to protecting Ella. But after I protected Ella yet again, strange text appeared before my eyes. [Actually, Anna is pretty pitiful. She’s protected Ella for so many years, and she’ll die still believing Ella really is a “porcelain doll.”] [This is her fate—destined to be nothing but a tool to protect Ella!] I didn’t believe this nonsense. Until the day Ella fell and there was no swelling, no bleeding. She got up like nothing happened and sighed: “How much longer do I have to keep up this porcelain doll act!”

My deformed fingers unconsciously gripped the wheelchair armrest. That was from when Ella was three and ran into the street to grab a toy. I saved her but got run over by an electric scooter. Three of my fingers were nearly crushed and could never bend again. But even then, I hadn’t protected Ella well enough. Her knee scraped against the gravel road, blood flowing freely. When my mother arrived, she didn’t even glance at me, rushing Ella straight to the hospital. By the time she remembered me, the doctor said it was too late. My fingers would never bend again. Even so, my mother punished me when we got home. “Anna, can’t you put more effort into protecting Ella!” I don’t remember what the punishment was. My mother had too many different ways to punish me. But that disappointed shout and the pain of my broken fingers remained crystal clear in my memory. After that, I protected Ella even more recklessly. My gaze moved from my twisted fingers to Ella in the distance. At home, she always sat quietly on the sofa. Couldn’t run, couldn’t jump. Carefully playing her role as a “porcelain doll.” But now she was jumping freely to reach the leaves overhead. Chasing butterflies back and forth. Her pale arms scraped against tree branches. No bruises. No bleeding. Just a faint red mark that quickly disappeared. Ella had said, “How much longer do I have to keep up this porcelain doll act?” So she really was like those comments said—she wasn’t sick at all. [To get Anna’s protection, Ella has really suffered.] [Playing “porcelain doll” at home every day must be suffocating.] I lowered my eyes. So this was what Ella called suffering? When I looked up again, a familiar figure appeared beside Ella. I couldn’t help but sit up straighter. Did my mother know Ella was faking? The next second, I saw my mother gently tap Ella, her tone reproachful: “What if Anna sees you like this?” My breath caught. Ella pouted impatiently: “I’ve been pretending for fifteen years.” “I’m so tired. Can’t you just stop having Anna pick me up from school? I can get home by myself.” She clung to my mother’s arm, acting cute. In the past, my mother always gave in when Ella acted cute. But this time she shook her head, her tone leaving no room for argument: “No. There are too many dangers on the way to and from school. Anna must protect you!” I looked down at my broken body. Ella’s muttering drifted over: “I’m not really a porcelain doll. Can’t I just relax for this little bit of time?” My mother rarely put on a stern face, even her tone becoming heavy: “I said no and I mean it. You’re a porcelain doll in my eyes, and you can’t get hurt at all!” Their voices gradually faded into the distance. I stood behind the tree, almost turning into a statue. Only when their figures disappeared around the corner did I slowly move my eyes. So it was all fake. They’d lied to me, tricked me into recklessly protecting Ella for fifteen years.

When I got home, cheerful laughter drifted hazily from inside. The moment the key entered the lock, all sound stopped. I struggled to wheel myself through the door. Despite being extremely careful, I almost fell to the floor. I’d begged my mother so many times to have someone remove the threshold at the entrance. She always said okay, okay, okay. But no one ever came. Yet the foam padding on every corner of the house was replaced within a minute if even a single piece was missing. Thinking of what I’d just witnessed, I opened my mouth, my voice hoarse as I called out, “Mother.” No one answered. When I looked up, I found my mother staring coldly at me. She demanded: “Why didn’t you pick Ella up just now?” “Do you know Ella almost got hit by a car on her way home! If I hadn’t happened to be there, Ella would be in the hospital right now!” I looked at my mother’s face, flushed red with anger. I thought inappropriately that my mother really understood me well. Every time she said something like this, I would protect Ella even more carefully out of guilt. Even those floating comments knew it. [This trick of my mother’s never fails. Brilliant!] [After she says this, I feel like Anna would use her life to protect Ella next time.] Once a habit forms, it becomes automatic. I was stunned by my own “I’m sorry.” But my mother’s lips curved with satisfaction, seeming pleased with her tactic. “Since you know you were wrong, go bring Ella’s dinner over right now!” For the first time, I stayed rooted in place. I opened my mouth, wanting to ask why they lied to me. But I never dared to speak. Finally, I said softly: “I’m not feeling well. I want to go to my room to rest…” My mother froze. This was the first time I hadn’t obeyed her. After recovering, she furrowed her brow and raised her voice: “Go bring Ella’s dinner over, then you can rest!” Their eyes both fell on me, the cripple. Various chaotic emotions tangled together. I ignored my mother and turned my wheelchair around to head to my room. But my mother grabbed me. Her expression was ugly: “Anna, what’s wrong with you today!” “You didn’t pick up Ella, and now I ask you to bring Ella her dinner and you won’t do it. Are you trying to kill her!” My gaze swept across the distance from the living room to the kitchen—less than thirty feet. Even if Ella really was a “porcelain doll,” what could possibly happen? My mother followed my gaze and said coldly: “Have you forgotten how Ella got that scar on her head!” I hadn’t forgotten. Of course I hadn’t forgotten. That was the first time I came home in a wheelchair after breaking my leg. Ella went to get her own dinner and tripped. I couldn’t reach her in time. Ella’s head hit the floor, bleeding profusely. My mother and father nervously took her to the hospital. They were gone for half a month. I was forgotten. I could only sit in my wheelchair, struggling to make food for myself. I slept in my wheelchair for that entire half month. But when they came back, the first thing my mother and father did was blame me for not protecting Ella well enough. I raised my head, my eyes filled with a calm close to death: “I’m really tired.”

The pulling force disappeared. My mother instinctively let go. It wasn’t until I returned to my room and closed the door that her dissatisfied muttering drifted over faintly. [Anna is really strange today.] [Could she have found out that Ella being a porcelain doll is fake!] I ignored the shocked comments. My gaze swept across mine and Ella’s room. Bunk beds. She had the bottom, I had the top. Because my mother was afraid she’d be in danger climbing the ladder. I rubbed the thick calluses on my palms. All these years I’d relied on these hands to climb up and down. At first, I fell countless times. I’d asked my mother many times to change to two single beds, but it always came to nothing. It seemed like my requests were never fulfilled. The comments paused for a moment. [Don’t you think Anna is kind of pitiful?] [Pitiful? She’s just a tool to protect Ella. That’s her mission.] I smiled bitterly. The front door opened and closed. My father was home. His first words were usually to ask about Ella. Then, after noticing I wasn’t shadowing and protecting Ella as usual, he’d ask about me. It wasn’t hard to guess what my mother would tell my father. The bedroom door was soon knocked on. “Anna, come out. I have something to say to you.” I didn’t respond. My father quickly lost patience. The door was pushed open forcefully, slamming into the cabinet behind it. That was the only space in the entire room that belonged to me. From the impact, the dance costume and shoes hanging on the cabinet fell to the floor. My father didn’t even look before stepping on them. It lay quietly on the ground. Just like me. “Anna, what kind of tantrum are you throwing today?” my father’s voice was heavy. He was truly angry. My mother snorted coldly behind him: “This girl must be resentful because we keep making her protect Ella!” My father immediately put on a stern face, looking at me disapprovingly: “Anna, you’re the older sister. Isn’t it natural for you to protect Ella?” “What’s more, Ella is a porcelain doll!” What about my father? Did my father know Ella’s illness was fake? The question was almost on my lips, but my father’s voice drowned everything out. “Your mother says you’re tired. What’s so tiring about sitting in a wheelchair all day?” My heart suddenly felt hollow. The answer didn’t seem to matter anymore. I pressed my lips together, silently enduring my parents’ barrage of accusations. Finally, they seemed tired of talking and looked at me with confusion. Probably wondering why I’d suddenly changed. My mother’s eyes were ice-cold: “Fine, be stubborn. You don’t get any steak either!” Being denied food was too normal a punishment. After going hungry enough times, I guess I got used to it. They turned and left the living room without closing the door. The three of them laughed and chatted happily at the dinner table. The comments weren’t as active as before. [Anna’s silhouette is making me cry.] [It’s okay, it’s okay. Tomorrow Anna’s nightmare as a tool will end. After she saves Ella on stage and ends up bedridden, my parents will feel too guilty to make Anna protect Ella anymore.] I stared at the comment before me for a long time, then laughed. Was it because of guilt? It was clearly because I’d be bedridden and unable to protect Ella anymore.

The next day was the anniversary celebration at Ella’s school. This wasn’t my first time attending an event at her school. In fact, I’d been to every one. Whenever Ella went on stage, I had to be by her side. Because my parents worried there might be danger on stage. And because my broken leg forced me to drop out of school. So I was always especially happy to hear I could go to Ella’s school. On the way there, I used to excitedly ask Ella all kinds of questions. But I only ever got perfunctory answers. Today I was unusually silent. My mother glanced at me through the rearview mirror: “It’s been a whole night, Anna. Have you figured it out?” My father’s sharp eyes also locked onto me through the mirror: “If you still haven’t come to your senses, your mother and I will just pretend we don’t have a daughter like you!” I looked out the window, taking a long time before responding. “I’ve figured it out.” I seemed to hear all three of them sigh with relief. They automatically assumed I meant I’d continue protecting Ella properly from now on. My mother turned around with a beaming smile: “I knew my Anna was the most obedient!” My father’s gloomy expression also brightened: “That’s my good daughter!” “In a while, I’ll change those bunk beds in your room to single beds.” So the reason they’d refused to change the beds all along was for today. To reward me after I became their tool once again. Ella ate the snacks my mother had made for her and smiled sweetly. “Then thank you in advance, Anna.” In the past, I would have ruffled Ella’s hair and told her it was no problem. And secretly been pleased by my parents’ praise. But today I only managed a stiff twitch of my lips before turning to look out the window again. At school events, Ella usually performed ballet. After I broke my leg, my mother immediately signed Ella up for classes. Under the stage lights, Ella was like an elegant white swan. Her skin was smooth and fair. Not even a tiny scar anywhere on her body. Below the stage, besides the amazed gazes falling on Ella, there were also disgusted glances occasionally cast my way. “They’re from the same mother—how can the difference be so huge?” “The ugly duckling and the swan, literally!” “Why does Anna have to be on stage? To be laughed at?” The disdainful comments stabbed into my ears like little knives. Just like every time before. Except before, my mind was full of protecting Ella, so I never took these hurtful words to heart. I looked across the distance at my parents. They heard them but acted as if they didn’t. Their proud gazes remained fixed only on Ella. Never once speaking up for me. The comments before my eyes suddenly began scrolling frantically. [Here it comes, here it comes! The chandelier is about to fall!] [Anna, get ready! You have to save Ella!] I looked up at the dazzling chandelier overhead. Sure enough, just like the comments said, it was swaying slightly. And Ella, taking her bows on stage, was directly beneath it. I slowly turned my wheelchair amid my parents’ applause and cheers. The next second, the chandelier fell. I looked up and met my parents’ horrified expressions.

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After three consecutive months of receiving bed photos and videos from my Alpha husband’s lover, I publicly posted all the intimate footage on werewolf social media. My husband’s mistress cried her heart out, screaming that she had no face to show in any Pack anymore. The next second, Logan’s call came through, his voice cold as ice: “Delete it.” I didn’t delete it. Ten minutes later, all my accounts were deactivated. The entire operation—Logan only needed ten minutes. Three days later, he came to me with divorce papers, his fingers caressing the back of my neck as he coerced me softly: “It’s just a trick to placate the little omega. Play along.” I nodded and signed my name. He thought I would cry and beg him to come back like I had countless times before. But he didn’t know—I had long stopped wanting to be the Luna of the Blake Pack. Half an hour after signing the contract. Logan would never know how malicious the thoughts of his innocent, harmless lover truly were. Even though I had already signed the divorce papers, she still hired three Rogues to ambush me on my way to my father’s grave. Claws laced with wolfsbane tore open my abdomen. I couldn’t save my child—the last blood tie between Logan and me was severed. The communicator shrilled just as I came down from the hospital operating table. The anesthesia had barely worn off. The twisting pain in my abdomen and the burning sensation from the wolfsbane forced cold sweat from every pore. I answered through the pain. Logan’s icy voice came through: “Ella, move your things out of the main house.” “Okay.” I agreed readily. Five years as mates, and he’d kept one omega after another on the side. To avoid interfering with his trysts with his lovers, he had his deputy arrange a solitary cabin for me in Black Oak Forest, at the very edge of Blake Pack territory. He said: “When I want to find you, I’ll naturally send someone to fetch you. Without my permission, you’re not to step one foot outside Black Oak Forest.” The last time he knelt before me, forehead pressed against the back of my hand, begging me to move back to the main house. He said he’d reformed, that we’d live well from now on. I foolishly believed him and moved back to what should have been my home. But one week later. At Blake Pack’s Blackstone Club, a young omega server accidentally spilled red wine all over Logan. The omega stumbled to his knees like a startled fawn, apologizing with glistening eyes that happened to catch Logan’s gaze. I stood in the shadows on the second floor and saw the way he looked at her. I knew—he’d fallen again. That night, he took that server to the penthouse suite of the club. The news spread throughout the Northern Wolf Alliance overnight. Once again, I became the laughingstock of all the packs. This omega seemed truly special. For a whole year, Logan never tired of her. Recently, she’d grown even more brazen, sending me photos and videos of her with Logan for three months straight. Every word dripped with her ambition to replace me. Until three hours ago. For the first time, Logan placed the divorce parchment before me, his fingers stroking the top of my head: “It’s just for show. Be good, don’t make me angry.” My eyes reddened as I hesitated to put pen to paper. No matter how outrageous his behavior before, this document symbolizing complete severance had never appeared. But now, he stroked my head methodically, as if soothing a bristling kitten. I knew better than anyone the consequences of angering Logan. Just like this time—with a flick of his fingers, he could solve all the troubles for that omega named Mia. So I signed my name, leaving only one word: “Okay.” Returning to the main house, I didn’t see Logan or Mia. Old Mabel, the housekeeper, immediately approached when she saw me: “Miss? How was the prenatal checkup? Is the baby alright?” My face turned ashen as I shook my head. I had originally planned to tell Logan tonight that I was pregnant. But in just a few short days, I had lost this child. “I was attacked.” Under Mabel’s shocked gaze, I slowly spoke, “Even if I hadn’t been attacked, this child wouldn’t have been born into happiness.” Before Mabel could respond, the main house door was kicked open. Mia wore Logan’s black trench coat, carrying a pile of luxury gift boxes, with a dozen bodyguards behind her also laden with packages. Seeing me, Mia showed no surprise. She lazily leaned against my chair, smiling sweetly, though her words were laced with poison. “I’ve never understood—Logan treats you like this, yet you still won’t leave. What are you clinging to?” “Yesterday I said I wanted strawberries, and he braved a blizzard to run fifty kilometers to pick them for me. Have you ever received that kind of treatment?” I fell silent for a moment. Yesterday was the memorial day for my father, the former Alpha of Blake Pack. When I contacted Logan, he told me he was too busy. Turns out, he was busy picking strawberries for Mia.

I clenched my clothes tighter. Once upon a time, Logan was the person who loved me most, aside from my parents. He was my father’s most trusted Beta deputy. Since I was ten years old, he had always stood silently behind me. He said: “My duty is to protect Ella.” When I was a child with a fever of 104 degrees and the pack doctor was helpless, he carried me thirty kilometers through a rainstorm to find the best physician, staying by my bedside all night. When our territory was attacked by a bear pack, he shielded me with his body, letting bear claws tear open his back, blood soaking through his clothes. He endured the pain without a sound, still gently comforting my terrified self. On my coming-of-age ceremony, my father gave us his blessing. He placed the black wolf fang necklace symbolizing Blake Pack’s authority around Logan’s neck. “If you ever change your heart, I won’t hesitate to take her away. My daughter has never lacked for people to love her.” Logan clenched his fists and solemnly promised he would never change. He said: “I want to make you the happiest person in the world.” Our relationship was the envy of the entire Northern Wolf Alliance. One year after our marriage, my father died accidentally during a hunt, and Logan took over all Blake Pack affairs. Pack business was overwhelming. He collapsed into the hospital several times from exhaustion after taking office. I felt so sorry for him that I learned to cook, hoping to ease some of his fatigue. And every time he returned from a hunt, he would bring me a bouquet of my favorite lilies, saying these were flowers filled with love. He would watch the stars with me and hold me as I fell asleep. When exactly did everything change? I think it was probably after he completely transformed into the unquestionable Alpha of Blake Pack. He began having endless social obligations, spending every day at the Blackstone Club. When he came home, he reeked of pungent, unfamiliar perfume. Facing my questioning, he smiled and explained: “It rubbed off from people the cooperating pack leaders brought. Don’t overthink it.” He used one clumsy excuse after another, wearing down my unreserved trust time and again. Until he completely controlled Blake Pack’s power and subdued all the elders who opposed him—then he stopped bothering to pretend. And I foolishly remained immersed in the prison of love he wove for me. The first time I caught him cheating was at the full moon hunt victory banquet. At the feast, he was nowhere to be seen for a long time. Pack members had already started gossiping, so I had no choice but to check his location and discovered he was at the pack headquarters. All along the way, I grumbled about him not taking care of his health. When I pushed open the office door, I was still holding a cake I’d made myself. But on his desk sat the remains of a candlelit dinner, and clothing was scattered all over the floor. When I kicked open the door, Logan’s face showed not a trace of panic. He gently covered the person beneath him with a blanket, casually wrapped a towel around himself, and when he looked up at me, his eyes were as cold and indifferent as a block of ice. “Close the door. If you have no shame, she still does.” His composure made me look like a pathetic clown. I rushed forward like a madwoman to drag out the mistress, but Logan slapped me so hard I saw stars. In the chaos, I saw clearly the woman on the bed— it was the omega nurse who had changed his bandages the last time he’d collapsed into the hospital. The little nurse was terrified, tears streaming down her face: “Luna Ella, don’t misunderstand. I only came to deliver healing herbs. We had some drinks, and in our confusion…” Logan pressed his lips together, his cold eyes fixed on me: “Ella, I’m warning you, don’t lay a finger on her.” So his lilies filled with love were nothing more than casual compensation after his wild revelries outside.

From then on, the women around him changed one after another. He no longer cared about anything to do with me, finding even my existence annoying. It seemed only business profits and different omegas to bed could make him feel the meaning of life. I gradually became numb in the enormous sense of loss. Until one day, I no longer expected him to appear before me. I ignored Mia’s cold mockery and sarcasm, turned to go upstairs to get my black wolf pendant and documents, then hurried back down. Coming downstairs, I saw Mia rifling through the bag I’d left on the sofa. My breathing hitched as I rushed forward and snatched the bag back. Mia spread her hands and rolled her eyes: “Nothing valuable anyway. Why so nervous?” I felt for the hospital report at the very bottom of the bag and breathed a sigh of relief. Mia walked up to me and suddenly grinned: “I heard you encountered a Rogue attack yesterday. You’re really lucky to be alive. You look perfectly fine.” Looking at her smug face, I was about to step forward and teach this lowly omega a lesson, when Logan returned. He glanced at me, his tone casual: “Did you drop something?” I smiled and smoothly tucked the documents back into my bag: “Nothing.” Logan fell silent for a moment. Just as I lifted my foot to leave, he pulled out two black cards and held them before me. “Border Fortress Hotel presidential suite. Stay there for now. Yesterday… I really was busy.” Busy? Busy picking strawberries for Mia counted as business? At this moment, I only found the man before me utterly disgusting. I smiled sweetly, and the next second, delivered a resounding slap across Logan’s face. I shook my numb palm, my smile unchanged: “Logan, you’re truly disgusting. A Beta deputy who rose through the old Alpha’s favor, who by chance took the Alpha position—have you forgotten how you once begged me to help you stabilize the opposing forces?” I had never spoken words so cutting to him before. Logan didn’t strike back, but his expression darkened instantly, his gaze growing ominous. Before he could react, Mia grabbed the ashtray from the table and smashed it hard against my head. Warm blood flowed down from my temple. My head spun, and the living room lights suddenly became unbearably bright. Mabel rushed forward to support me, shouting anxiously at Logan: “Alpha Logan, don’t you know that Luna Ella she…” I stopped Mabel. “Mabel, I’m fine.” The man before me showed no reaction, only casually glancing at Mabel, his voice cold and cutting: “Mabel, remember clearly whose servant you are. Since she’s already divorced me, she’s no longer Blake Pack’s Luna.” Mabel looked at me anxiously. I gently shook my head. Saying anything to him now was meaningless. He was no longer the Logan who would smile and bend down to listen to me. Logan nervously held Mia’s slightly trembling hand, his tone tender enough to drip water: “Does your hand hurt from hitting her? Did any glass cut you?” Mia sobbed softly and shook her head: “It doesn’t hurt… I just couldn’t stand seeing someone bully you…” The light illuminated the gentleness in his eyes as he looked at Mia: “Silly girl, bullying me doesn’t matter, but I can’t let you be wronged.” Hearing this, Mia immediately became smug, her eyes full of provocation as she looked at me: “For that slap just now, I’ll return it to you tenfold.” Seeing Logan say nothing, Mia shook his arm coquettishly: “You’re Blake Pack’s Alpha. If word gets out that you were slapped, how humiliating would that be? How could you command respect?” Logan still didn’t relent. Seeing this, Mia stood on tiptoe and whispered something in his ear. Logan finally smiled with satisfaction, wrapping his arm around Mia’s waist and kissing her lightly on the lips: “Alright, I’ll listen to you.” I staggered back several steps, staring at the two people before me in disbelief. The bodyguards immediately shoved Mabel aside roughly and stepped forward to grip my wrists tightly. I began struggling frantically, but was frozen in place by Logan’s fierce gaze: “Logan! You…”

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At eight months pregnant, I accidentally discovered that my husband, Ethan Smith, was having an affair with my adoptive sister who had come to take care of me. When I caught them, his tone was flat: “So you saw everything? Actually, I started sleeping with her when you were three months pregnant. Every night for the past few months, I’ve been with her… Who told you to always refuse me during your pregnancy?” I couldn’t help but raise my hand and slap him. “You bastard! She’s my sister!” But Stella knelt before me, tears streaming down her face. “Natalie, don’t blame Ethan. I was the one who initiated it…” My head was buzzing, my body swaying, and Ethan caught me in his arms. I shoved his hands away. “Why?” Stella bit her lip, struggling to speak. “I’ve always liked him…” I slapped her across the face. Ethan pulled her behind him, his eyes cold as ice: “I’m a man. I have needs. Isn’t this arrangement better? She’s your sister—we’re all family. Would you prefer I cheat with someone else?”

I stood frozen, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. Ethan sighed helplessly and gently wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Natalie, your pregnancy hormones are just making you overthink things. Don’t get so upset—it’s bad for the baby.” The familiar features before me suddenly seemed like a stranger’s. So he did remember I was pregnant after all. Stella scrambled to her feet and headed for the kitchen, her legs still trembling as she walked. “Natalie, what would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you…” Their eager expressions made me wonder if everything I’d just witnessed was a dream. “When did this start?” Ethan frowned. “January 25th. That day you went for your prenatal checkup and asked Stella to deliver some documents to me. I couldn’t control myself…” The bright red hickey on his neck stabbed at my eyes. The baby in my belly kicked again. My lower back ached so badly I couldn’t straighten up, and tears fell in heavy drops onto the floor. So it was that day. I had taken a taxi to the hospital alone—waiting in line, getting my number, going through the checkup. I’d asked Ethan if he could come with me, but he said he had work. I’d asked Stella if she could help me, but she said after delivering the documents, her school advisor needed her assistance. My legs were swollen from pregnancy. Someone bumped into me at the hospital, and I nearly had a miscarriage. Meanwhile, my two closest people were tangled together on his office desk. I had made excuses for him, thinking he was just too busy. I never imagined he was busy in my sister’s bed. I was the only fool. Ethan suddenly crouched down and rubbed my legs. “If you hadn’t found out, you wouldn’t be upset. Wouldn’t it have been better to just play dumb?” Nausea surged in my stomach. I kicked him in the chest. “Ethan Smith, you disgust me!” But he used the momentum to help me onto the sofa. “If this makes you feel better, you can kick me a few more times.” As I struggled, my hand touched something on the sofa. I looked down. A pair of torn stockings. The blood in my veins seemed to freeze. Ethan hesitated, wanting to say something but holding back. Stella came out carrying soup. When she saw what was in my hand, her face went white. She rushed forward anxiously to explain. “Natalie, it’s not what you think…” Ethan calmly took the stockings, his tone casual. “No need to make such a fuss. Yesterday you said your stomach hurt, so I went to sleep in the study. Actually, I just tried it with Stella on the sofa. You didn’t even notice. It was quite thrilling.” Tears blurred my vision. I bolted up and rushed to the bathroom, retching violently. Outside the door came Stella’s worried voice. “Natalie, are you okay? Ethan was just talking nonsense. Don’t get worked up—your health is what matters. You still have a baby to think about.” The nausea only deepened. I stared at my swollen belly in despair. Why did it have to be at eight months? Why did it have to be Stella? All my life, I’d given way to her in everything. So she could go to college, I dropped out early to work. When she needed a place to stay in college, I let her move into the home Ethan and I shared. The thousand-dollar tablet in her hands—I bought it without blinking. The dress she wore, even those stockings—last week while shopping, she casually mentioned her legs weren’t smooth enough, and I bought them for her. I opened the door and stared hard at Stella. “Haven’t I been good enough to you?” Stella ingratiatingly handed me a bowl of soup, her voice careful. “Natalie, eat something first. We can talk after you’ve eaten, okay?” I knocked the bowl from her hands. The scalding soup splashed onto the back of her hand, leaving it bright red. “I don’t need your fake kindness!” Stella’s eyes instantly reddened. “Natalie, how can you say that about me!” Ethan’s expression darkened, glaring at me with displeasure. “Take your anger out on me if you must. Stella cares about you. Is there really a need to make such a big deal out of nothing?” He rubbed his temples while gently wiping Stella’s tears. “See? I told you we absolutely couldn’t let Natalie find out. Your parents were right—Natalie has such a difficult temperament. Now that she knows, this house is going to be turned upside down.” Stella looked at me with tears in her eyes, the picture of grievance. My throat tightened. It had always been like this since childhood. “I’m taking Stella to the hospital. You stay home and reflect on yourself!” The door slammed with an earth-shattering bang. I collapsed weakly into a chair, but soon a strange smell came from the kitchen. In their rush, they hadn’t even turned off the gas… I struggled to move my body toward the door, only to discover that Ethan had broken the lock when he slammed it. I desperately called Ethan’s phone. Ring after ring, he hung up every time. Finally, on the last call, he answered, his voice laced with impatience. “Can you stop being so paranoid? Because of you, Stella cried her voice hoarse, asking me over and over if you really hate her. She genuinely cares about you.” I dragged my heavy pregnant belly, my whole body weak and powerless. “Ethan, I…” “I’m still trying to comfort Stella. If there’s nothing important, I’m hanging up.” The dial tone sounded in my ear. The smell of gas had nearly filled the entire house. I finally despaired. Ethan Smith, I won’t love you anymore.

When I woke up, my mother was lying by my bedside. From extreme grievance and fear, I instinctively hugged her, my voice choked. “Mom…” “Ethan is having an affair.” My mother cut off my tearful complaint. My heart felt like it was being crushed by a giant hand. “Over such a small matter, do you really need to act like you want to die? Which man doesn’t cheat?” My emotions surged. “But the person he cheated with is…” Her tone was calm. “I know.” I looked up in disbelief, staring into my mother’s clouded eyes. Not a trace of guilt, only dissatisfaction with me. I grabbed my mother’s arm, my voice breaking. “You knew? You knew and you still…” “Men have work stress and need an outlet. It’s bad enough that you as the wife don’t understand.” “Women outside would cost money. Your sister is clean. Isn’t it good that she’s helping share your burden? What are you making a fuss about?” Her mouth opened and closed, every word criticizing me for being unreasonable. My mind went blank. Even though I’d long known her favoritism had no bounds. Even though I’d long known Stella was the apple of her eye. I still couldn’t comprehend it. I screamed and questioned her in despair. I thought she could at least show some concern for me, but instead she said, “When I gave birth to you, my body was ruined because of you. Since you were little, you’ve been an ungrateful wretch, always fighting with Stella over things. Now you even want to fight with Stella over a man!” My fingertips nearly drew blood. My phone chimed with a special notification. Stella had updated her social media: “Feeling down, so Ethan swept the whole claw machine arcade for me.” I was lying in the hospital from gas poisoning. My husband was accompanying Stella to check out the newest Western restaurant, playing at claw machines with her, taking her to Disneyland. “If you can’t hold onto your man’s heart, who’s to blame?” My mother’s light mockery made my red-rimmed eyes seem especially pathetic. When Ethan and Stella returned, I was still in the hospital waiting to give birth. “Natalie, I’m sorry. When I was cooking, I forgot to turn off the gas. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have…” Stella cried like a pear blossom in the rain, but I didn’t even bother to look at her. She cried harder. “Ethan, is Natalie mad at me? I’m so stupid—I can’t even handle such a simple thing.” Ethan gently comforted her. “It’s not your fault.” He looked at me, seemingly displeased with my attitude. “Natalie, Stella is apologizing to you. Are you deaf?” I suddenly felt like laughing, but tears fell traitorously instead. Ethan realized his tone was too harsh and softened it, pulling out two plush toys. “I know this scared you. I asked the doctor—you and the baby are fine. Stella is still young. She even brought you the dolls you like.” The necklace around Stella’s neck was blindingly conspicuous. It was the wedding gift I’d asked Ethan for over an entire year. To this day, my neck remained empty. Was I only worthy of these cheap dolls? I nearly bit through my lip. “In what capacity are you speaking up for Stella? Ethan? Her lover?” Ethan’s expression darkened bit by bit. He laughed coldly. “No wonder your mother doesn’t like you.” “Stella is sunny and cheerful, unlike you—petty and small-minded. If I were your mother, I would also…” I looked up in disbelief. Ethan’s eyes showed panic. “That’s not what I meant…” From my earliest memories, my mother had disliked me. Even with two chicken drumsticks, she’d give both to Stella. When I was little, every friend I made would be drawn to Stella and become her friend instead. Every late night, I hated myself for not being as likable as Stella. It was Ethan’s appearance that told me even if I wasn’t perfect, he would always stand by my side. But now, even he stood on Stella’s side. My tears poured out like a broken faucet, uncontrollable. I grabbed things and threw them at him, breaking down. “Get out! Just get out!” Over the next few days, perhaps from guilt, Ethan and Stella came to the hospital to see me every other day. Baby diapers and supplies, all kinds of pregnancy nutrition meals appeared endlessly. “Natalie, didn’t you always say you really liked this necklace? I specially bought it for you.” The necklace I’d wanted for so long was placed in my palm by Ethan, yet it felt cold to my heart. One year and three months. He knew I liked it but never thought to buy it for me. I raised my head and finally spoke the words I’d been holding in my heart.

“Let’s get divorced.” We spoke in unison. I looked up in shock, only to see a flicker of joy in Ethan’s expression. “That’s great—Natalie, you know about it?” Confusion crossed my face. Ethan had already pulled out divorce papers. “Here are the divorce documents. If everything looks good, just sign.” “After all, you and I have wronged Stella. I’ll get a marriage license with her, and you can give her the spousal work assignment quota. Consider it compensation.” “Don’t worry, you’ll actually still be my wife. Anyway, I’ll support you. Being a housewife from now on isn’t so bad.” By the time I finished signing, I finally registered what Ethan had said. “Ethan Smith, do you remember what you promised me?” Ethan paused, as if trying to recall. Clearly, he’d forgotten. Back when I’d been trying to conceive for two years, gave up my position in the capital, took countless ovulation injections to have this child, he’d promised me, “You’ve sacrificed so much for me. Even after you have the baby, I’ll make sure you have work.” Now he wanted a divorce and to give the spousal quota to Stella. The door opened, and Stella walked in. “Natalie, are you feeling better?” Ethan warned me with his eyes not to say anything. I smiled through my tears. “How can I be better with a homewrecker like you around? Seducing my husband isn’t enough—now you want to steal my work quota too. Stella, you’re shameless beyond belief.” Her face went deathly pale. Tears fell like broken pearls. Ethan’s face darkened. “Natalie!” “Am I wrong? She’s barely twenty and already knows how to climb into her brother-in-law’s bed! Isn’t that slutty?” I raised my voice. People around us looked at her with mockery. Ethan shielded her in his arms and sneered at me. “Who’s sluttier than you? At eighteen, you worked part-time at a bar, got drugged, and when I took you to the hospital, you refused. You insisted we do it in the woods…” Contemptuous jeers rose around us. My face flushed red and white with shame and anger. I rushed forward to hit him. Stella suddenly blocked him and took the slap. “Natalie, blame me if you want. It’s all my fault. Ethan already works so hard.” “Natalie, what’s gotten into you!” Ethan’s eyes flashed with heartache as he pushed me back hard. My belly slammed into the corner of the table, and blood pooled beneath me. Ethan shouted for a doctor in shock. Stella cried and hit him. “Natalie, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t let anything happen to you…” Ethan cried as he watched me being wheeled into the operating room. In the darkness, the surgical forceps opened, tearing pain. I cried my heart out as my life flashed before my eyes like a movie. It was eighteen-year-old Ethan on the grass, fingers intertwined with mine. “Natalie, I’ll be good to you for a lifetime.” A lifetime turned out to be only seven years…

The baby was premature and went into the incubator. Ethan grabbed my hand guiltily, eyes reddening. “Natalie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. After this summer ends, I’ll make Stella leave our home.” I turned away, tears flowing silently. After being discharged, Ethan locked me in the house. He even hid my phone. The first day, they only brought me three meals. I held my newborn baby and cried myself hoarse. The second day, I smashed everything in the room and cut my hand. The third day, Ethan finally came to see me. I demanded hysterically why he wouldn’t even give me the freedom to move around. He frowned as he bandaged my hand, his eyes helpless. “Your emotions are too volatile right now. I’m afraid you’ll go out and ruin Stella’s reputation. She’s still a young girl. We can’t destroy her life over your momentary impulse, can we?” Stella beside him cast me a sympathetic look. “Natalie, don’t worry. I’ll do that job well, and I’ll maintain your friendships for you too.” My heart felt like a piece of flesh had been carved out. I was disheveled and deathly pale. “Ethan Smith, what gives you the right to let someone else replace my life! Is this what you call love?” Ethan froze for a moment, his patience exhausted. “When you learn how to be a magnanimous mother, I’ll naturally let you out.” He wanted me to learn to be a magnanimous mother, yet he stripped away my marriage, my work, my freedom. Meanwhile, under his protection, Stella enjoyed everything that should have been mine. I covered my face, laughing until tears streamed down. The baby beside me suddenly began wailing. I touched the child’s burning forehead, and my heart twisted like a knife. “Ethan Smith, let me out! Nathan has a fever!” I beat frantically on the door, my nails leaving bloody streaks. The crying finally brought Ethan. He frowned. “What are you making a fuss about now?” I begged without dignity. “Ethan, look at Nathan! He’s your son! He’s really going to die!” Hesitation and conflict flashed in his eyes. “But…” My mother suddenly entered. With one glance, she said lightly, “Making a mountain out of a molehill. You had fevers when you were little too. Just give him some fever medicine. You’re making such a scene—could it be because… Stella got confirmed in her position today, and you want to go ruin her work?” Ethan’s expression instantly darkened. “Natalie, enough is enough. When did you become so unreasonable? You’re even using your son as an excuse.” I laughed, my whole body trembling. “I’m unreasonable?” He didn’t understand. “Stella is your sister. Why can she accept all this, but you can’t?” It seemed my breakdown and helplessness were nothing in Ethan’s eyes. He answered a call, his face breaking into a smile, and left without looking back. “Mom, Stella’s promotion report is starting. Let’s go.” I looked at the child in my arms with his flushed face, feeling no pain as I desperately kicked the door open. But I was covered in blood. Passing drivers didn’t dare let me in their cars. When I finally got a taxi, I discovered Ethan had confiscated my phone—I had no money for the fare and was thrown out by the driver. By the time a kind stranger got me to the hospital, the doctor shook his head helplessly. “Why didn’t you bring him in sooner? The baby was already premature. As a mother, you’re too careless.” Holding my child’s cold body on the way home, I was dead inside as I lit a fire. In the firelight, the drone of a helicopter was especially jarring, and a figure slowly walked toward me… “Sorry. I came late.”

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After ten years of marriage, I finally got pregnant with the heir to the Sawyer family. On the day of my prenatal checkup, I caught my husband accompanying his first love through childbirth. An hour later, Ethan Sawyer ordered someone to abort my baby and gently coaxed me, “Be good, Aria. Madeline’s health is fragile. Can you let this one go, just this once?” When I didn’t respond, my mother, Clara, slapped me across the face. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble? If it weren’t for you back then, Madeline and Ethan would never have broken up. Think of this baby as your way of atoning to her.” Afraid I’d disturb Madeline during her postpartum recovery, Ethan had my mother take me away. I was sent to the old house in the southern district. The place was chosen specifically because snakes, insects, and rodents frequently appeared there—and I was terrified of these cold-blooded creatures. After Ethan left, my mother sneered coldly. “Your father killed Gabriel. You stole Madeline’s man. Both of you deserve to die.” Watching my lips turn purple, my mother remained unmoved. I struggled to call Ethan for help, but he said, “Aria, you don’t need to do this. You’ll always be my wife, but Madeline—I’ll always owe her.” Ethan didn’t believe me. My mother ignored me. At that moment, I finally understood the destructive power of first love. Not just on Ethan, but on my mother too. I thought, this is fine. Ten years—any debt of gratitude should be repaid by now.

When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. The nurse told me, “Lucky thing someone passing by found you, otherwise you would’ve lost that leg.” Just as I was about to thank her, my mother’s call came through. “Who gave you permission to leave? Aria, are you scheming to harm Madeline again?” My mother’s hysterical voice sounded like she hated me to the bone. Before I could respond, she scoffed coldly. “Aria, you forced my hand.” I didn’t know what my mother would do, but I knew she wouldn’t let me off. Before, for Madeline’s sake, my mother had directly destroyed my father’s grave. She’d said, “Your daughter deserves to die. Now you can atone for her first.” Thinking of this, I quickly called back, only to discover I’d been blocked. I stared helplessly at my phone, still unable to understand. My mother used to treat me well, but ever since I married Ethan, she changed. I still remember how my mother had said, “If you insist on marrying Ethan, I’ll kill myself.” It was only after Ethan talked to her that she reluctantly agreed to our marriage. After the wedding, my mother rarely contacted me. Instead, she grew close to Ethan. It wasn’t until Madeline returned to the country that I understood why. That day was also my birthday, but they both stood me up. Later, they all appeared on Madeline’s social media. That’s when I learned that Madeline was Ethan’s first love, and she was also the daughter of my mother’s first love. How wonderful to be someone’s first love. But me? I was nothing.

My phone suddenly rang, interrupting my thoughts. It was a call from Rose’s nursing home. (My grandmother, Rose.) That uneasy feeling instantly peaked. I quickly answered. “Is this Mrs. Spencer’s family member?” “Yes, I am, I…” “Please come to the nursing home immediately. Your grandmother is dying.” Ignoring the doctor’s warnings, I took a cab straight to the nursing home. But I was still a step too late. Rose had already left me. At that moment, I felt my life was hopeless—until the caregiver showed me the surveillance footage. I saw Ethan bringing Madeline to see Rose. They said, “Aria deliberately framed Madeline and tried to secretly give birth to my child. She deserves to die. It’s all your fault, you old thing, for failing to raise her properly.” My grandmother kept kowtowing. But Ethan remained unmoved. When Madeline said, “Your granddaughter sleeps with old men every day,” Ethan even nodded along. That’s what drove my grandmother to her death. I cried until I was exhausted, until I had no voice left. Ethan, how dare you? Don’t you remember at all? My grandmother watched you grow up. I know I was wrong. Crying, I dialed a number I knew by heart. “You saw everything, didn’t you? My child is gone. I really can’t handle Ethan anymore. Please let me go. My grandmother is dead. I really can’t hold on anymore.” “Yes, your family saved my father and grandmother back then, but now both my father and grandmother are dead because of your family. The debt is repaid, isn’t it? I won’t hold Ethan accountable, but I want a divorce.” Margaret Sawyer (Ethan’s mother) kept apologizing to me. But what good were apologies? My grandmother would never come back. “Alright, I agree.” She booked me a flight for ten days later and promised to help me divorce Ethan. Satisfied, I hung up and sent my mother a message. After all, Rose had passed away—surely she should attend the funeral. For three days, my mother didn’t call once. I was even cursed out on social media. In a mother’s tone, she tearfully said, “I never imagined my daughter could be this kind of person—stealing someone’s beloved, causing her own father and grandmother’s deaths. Can I really keep someone like this? Can you tell me what I should do?” My mother fabricated a perfect lie, with a clear chain of evidence to support it. I wanted to cry but had no tears left. After doing all this, watching me trend on social media, my mother sent me a message: [Hurry up and divorce Ethan. Don’t stand in the way of Madeline’s happiness.] This time I replied: [Fine.] My mother didn’t believe I truly wanted to divorce Ethan. She called to curse at me, saying I was playing hard to get. “Your grandmother is dead. Do you really think anyone will support you now?”

“Clara, you’re my mother. My grandmother was your mother-in-law. Today is her funeral, and she was literally driven to death by Ethan and Madeline. You…” “Enough. If anyone’s to blame, it’s you.” I could imagine my mother’s teeth-gritting expression even through the phone. She said a whole string of things, every sentence stabbing at my heart. I thought, fine. This is it. My mother’s love for me was truly gone. “Clara, if you get Ethan to attend Rose’s funeral, I’ll divorce him.” “What are you scheming now?” My mother still didn’t trust me. She started cursing me, saying I’d die a horrible death, that I’d never bear children. “If Ethan doesn’t come, I’ll never divorce him, even if it kills me. That way, your precious Madeline will be a mistress forever.” I said all this expressionlessly, then hung up. I knew my mother would make Ethan come, because she cared so much about Madeline. Sure enough, halfway through the funeral, Ethan appeared. It wasn’t that I insisted he come. I just wanted Rose to leave with dignity. At the funeral, I was the only family member. Everyone else was pointing and whispering. “Doesn’t the old lady have a daughter-in-law?” “Why didn’t she come?” “Yeah, I heard this granddaughter has a husband too. What’s going on?” “Tsk, abandoned in her old age.” I knew my mother wouldn’t come. Even if she did, she wouldn’t treat my grandmother kindly—she’d probably condemn her in front of all these people. After all, she’d done it before. When Rose discovered my mother treated Madeline better than me, she was furious. She pointed at my mother and demanded, “Why? She’s your biological daughter! Have you lost your mind?” “Yes, I have lost my mind—to have married your son in the first place.” That’s what put my grandmother in a wheelchair. “Aria, Rose…” Ethan seemed shocked that Rose had truly died. Seeing the shock in Ethan’s eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh mockingly. “What are you pretending for? Didn’t you and Madeline go to the nursing home together? Said all those horrible things and drove my grandmother to her death—didn’t you expect this?” “Enough, Aria. We didn’t expect things to turn out this way. Besides, don’t you have any fault in this yourself?” It was still my fault. My fault for trusting my mother. My fault for loving you. “Fine. This is my grandmother’s funeral. I don’t want to argue with you. After this is over, I’ll divorce you.” “I don’t want to divorce you. Stop making a scene. Madeline is still heartbroken. Go back and apologize to her properly, and all this will pass.” “Apologize?” What did I do wrong that I need to apologize? “Those things your mother posted online—even though they’re not true, they still involved Madeline. Now people suspect Madeline is a mistress. How can she not be upset?” “Isn’t she though?” Sleeping with my husband, bearing my husband’s child—if that’s not a mistress, what is? *Slap…* Ethan, as if pushed to his limit, slapped me across the face. “Aria, for Rose’s sake, I didn’t want to make things difficult for you. Do you have to do this?”

At that moment, I felt no pain—only the increasingly strange looks from people around me. I was wrong again. How could I pin my hopes on Ethan? I looked at Rose’s smiling portrait and apologized over and over. I’d messed everything up. Seeing my silence, Ethan finally came to his senses. He wanted to apologize, but I stopped him. Ethan didn’t stay with me for the rest of the funeral because Madeline called saying something happened to the baby. Ethan left in a rush without even telling me. That day when I returned home, I discovered I couldn’t get in. I tried for a while but couldn’t open the door. Then my mother came out from inside. “Get lost. Madeline is living here now. She doesn’t want to see you.” “I bought this house!” I demanded loudly. My mother sneered coldly. “So what? It’s under your father’s name now. We’re married. If I don’t want you living here, you can’t.” Then my mother threw my things out. She said, “If you’re smart, hurry up and divorce Ethan.” That was the last thing my mother said to me. Helplessly, I dragged my suitcase away. Suddenly I didn’t know where to go. As soon as I reached the street, a group of people blocked my way. I didn’t know these people, but they punched and kicked me. They called me a demon, said I deserved to die. From what they said, I knew they were Madeline’s fans. Madeline was a minor influencer with many supporters online. They said, “Divorce Mr. Sawyer right now, and maybe we’ll let you off.” I pulled out the divorce agreement. “I’ve already signed it. I won’t cling to Ethan.” “Smart move.” That day they also filmed a video. My disheveled appearance was posted online and mocked by countless people. Ethan’s company was affected as a result. I knew this was Margaret’s doing. She’d called me before coordinating with the trending topic. “I wanted Ethan to sign the divorce papers without knowing, but he discovered it, and he doesn’t want to divorce.” “But now, for the company’s sake, he’ll definitely compromise first. He’ll probably propose a fake divorce. Agree to it—I’ll make it a real divorce. Though you’ll suffer some grievances.” “Just rumors and gossip. It’s not like I haven’t faced them before. As long as I can divorce Ethan, I’ll do anything.” “I’m sorry, child.” She really was sorry. Back then, when Madeline left Ethan for fame and fortune, Margaret found me and asked me to help Ethan through the darkest period of his life. Later, when Ethan moved past his heartbreak, he held me and said, “Even though my love with Madeline was unforgettable, I only want to be with you now. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Unfortunately, men’s promises are like farts—gone once released. That night, Ethan found me looking dejected. “I’m sorry, Aria. I didn’t expect things to turn out this way.” “Let’s get divorced, okay?” “Okay.” Seeing my agreement, Ethan quickly explained, “It’s a fake divorce. Once the company gets through this period, it’ll be fine.” “Okay.” I chose to play along with Ethan. He held me and made a passionate confession. But I turned a deaf ear. That day we filed for divorce. This way the process would be faster. Looking at the proof confirming our divorce, I smiled wistfully. Finally—finally free of this man. For the rest of my life, I never wanted to see him again. I cursed him—may he never meet anyone better than me for the rest of his life. Let him be continuously hurt by Madeline, the woman who hurt him once before. That day, Margaret transferred a large sum of money to me. I transferred part of it to my mother with a note: Retirement fund. I sent my mother a message: [According to government-mandated support, I’ve given you more than enough. This money is the last connection between us as mother and daughter. Take care of yourself from now on.] I visited my father and grandmother one last time, then went to the airport. Before boarding, I posted the presentation I’d compiled during this period online. Why should I sacrifice myself to make them comfortable? Since Ethan always thought Madeline was such a wonderful person, I had to let him know exactly what kind of goods he’d fallen in love with. The moment the plane took off, Madeline’s name hit the trending searches. When Ethan’s assistant found him with his phone, he was playing with the baby. Seeing the trending topic, he nearly dropped the child to the floor. “How is this possible?”

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“Five million dollars. Keep tabs on Mia, and tell me the second she breaks down.” Gideon pushed the check across the desk toward me, his eyes filled with calculation. I picked up the check, verified the amount three times, and slipped it into my bag. “Don’t worry, Gideon. Last night Mia cried her eyes out in the bathroom over you. She even said she’d transfer that oceanfront villa under her name to you as a birthday gift.” Gideon smiled with satisfaction. Walking out of the office, I pulled out my phone and hit save on the recording. Mia would indeed stop breathing. But not until three years from now, when Gideon would have her committed to a psychiatric hospital and killed by electroshock therapy. I looked at the balance in my account and dialed Mia’s number. “Hello, Mia? Your husband just paid me five million to be his spy. How should we split this money?” Evelyn’s POV My name is Evelyn. I’m a scholarship student sponsored by the billionaire Lancaster family, and Mia’s personal assistant. To the outside world, I’m Mia’s lapdog. I bite whoever she points at, with no dignity, driven purely by profit. But they don’t know that just moments ago, when Gideon threw that check at me, a set of memories that don’t belong to me flooded into my mind. In those memories, Mia would be stripped of her entire fortune by Gideon, a man with ulterior motives. Gideon would team up with Lydia, Mia’s father’s illegitimate daughter from an affair. Together, they would gradually drive Mia insane and have her committed to a psychiatric hospital. Eventually, to claim the inheritance, they would stage a not particularly clever medical accident. And I, as Mia’s only loyal ally, would end up crushed to pulp by an out of control truck while trying to expose the truth. Standing outside Gideon’s company building, I stared at the five million dollar check in my hand. It was the largest denomination of paper currency I’d ever seen in my life. I used to think money was everything. Now I think staying alive is. Gideon’s disgusting face still lingered before my eyes. He didn’t just want me to spy on Mia. He also wanted me to slip something into Mia’s food and drinks when he told me to. Gideon called it a sedative, but I knew it was a hallucinogen. One that could destroy her mind. I didn’t refuse outright. I even haggled with Gideon and squeezed out an extra fifty thousand in hush money. Because I knew that in these billionaire family power struggles, so-called loyalty without the weight of financial incentive wouldn’t be believed by anyone. If I hadn’t taken the money, Gideon would have found someone else, or found a way to make me disappear. I hailed a taxi and headed straight to Mia’s luxury apartment in the city center. When I opened the door, the room reeked of alcohol. Mia wore a silk robe, slumped on the carpet, still clutching half a bottle of red wine, her eyes red and swollen from crying. In this state, she really did look like a woman on the verge of a breakdown. If I didn’t know that Mia had just been on a hunger strike yesterday because Gideon hadn’t replied to her messages, I might have actually thought she was mentally unstable. “Evelyn, you’re here.” Mia’s voice was hoarse when she saw me. “Did Gideon reply? Is he still busy? Am I being too unreasonable?” I didn’t answer. I walked over and snatched the wine bottle from her hand, slamming it down on the coffee table with a bang. “Gideon didn’t reply. He’s busy plotting how to get you committed to a psychiatric hospital and swallow your entire fortune.” Mia froze, then flew into a rage. “What are you talking about! Gideon isn’t like that! He just has strong pride and doesn’t like my family looking down on him!” “Is that so?” I pulled out my phone, opened the recording, and turned the volume to maximum. Gideon’s refined yet sinister voice echoed through the empty living room. “Evelyn, I know you need money. Five million, as long as you obey. That crazy woman Mia has been very emotionally unstable lately. Keep an eye on her for me. Also, if Mia does anything extreme, make sure to record it and send it to me. This isn’t just for me, it’s for Mia’s own good. After all, mental illness can hurt people if it’s not treated early.”

Evelyn’s POV Mia’s face instantly turned deathly pale. She stared at my phone as if it were a monster. “This… this must be fake, right? Evelyn, do you need money? Just tell me if you need money. Why would you make something like this to deceive me?” Mia was still being stubborn, but I could see her hands were trembling. I played another segment, the part where I haggled with Gideon. “Gideon, isn’t five million a bit low? After all, Mia’s been good to me. If I betray her, I won’t be able to survive in this circle anymore.” “Five hundred fifty thousand. Not a penny more. Evelyn, know when to be satisfied. Once I gain control of the Lancaster family, you’ll have your share of benefits.” When the recording finished, I slapped the check on the table. “This is the down payment from Gideon. The rest he said he’d give after the job is done. Mia, do you still think Gideon’s just protecting his pride?” Mia picked up the check with trembling hands. After seeing the signature and seal clearly, she suddenly let out a scream, grabbed the wine bottle, and rushed toward the door. “I’m going to kill Gideon! That bastard! I’m going to kill him!” I grabbed Mia around the waist and dragged her back, throwing her onto the sofa. “What can you do besides get yourself killed if you go now? If you charge into Gideon’s office with a wine bottle, you’ll just prove you’re mentally unstable! Gideon already has a draft of the psychiatric evaluation ready. He’s just waiting for you to make a scene!” Mia collapsed on the sofa, sobbing. She cursed while crying, cursing Gideon, cursing herself. I poured Mia a glass of warm water and watched her vent with cold eyes. “Are you done crying? If you’re done, listen to me.” I sat across from Mia. “Gideon dares to do this because he has someone backing him. That Lydia? You think she’s just Gideon’s assistant at the company? She’s your own father’s illegitimate daughter, born just a few months after you.” Mia’s head snapped up, disbelief written all over her face. “My father… that’s impossible! My father loves me so much!” “Your father loves you? If he loved you, would he make you marry a fraud like Gideon? If he loved you, would he keep you away from the core business all these years? Wake up. In your father’s eyes, you’re just a tool for marriage alliances. Now that the tool isn’t useful anymore, he wants to replace it with a new one.” I had to be harsh, or Mia would never wake up. Mia sat there in a daze, her eyes vacant, as if her entire worldview had collapsed. “Then… what should I do? Evelyn, help me. I can’t let them succeed!” Mia finally grabbed my hand, her nails digging into my flesh. It hurt, but I didn’t shake her off. “Listen. Starting today, you need to cooperate with me in putting on an act.” I leaned close to Mia and lowered my voice. “Gideon wants you to play crazy? Then you’ll go crazy for him. But you’ll do it under my control.” “This five million. I’ll take half, and the other half is your investment capital.” Mia looked at me, the fear in her eyes gradually transforming into ruthlessness. She wiped away her tears and picked up the check, kissing it fiercely. “Fine, Evelyn. I’ll listen to you. Keep all five million. As long as you can destroy them, you can have everything I own!” I smiled and put the check away. “I don’t need everything. Fair compensation for work done. Now go wash your face and change your clothes. Gideon will be back tonight. Your show is about to begin.”

Evelyn’s POV Gideon did come back. He brought Mia’s favorite mousse cake, wearing that nauseating mask of devotion on his face. “Mia, I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy with the company these past few days and neglected you.” Mia sat on the sofa, holding a pair of scissors, cutting up the designer bags Gideon had given her. The floor was littered with scraps of leather. Gideon’s eyelid twitched. He put down the cake and tried to rush over to grab the scissors. “Mia, what are you doing? Don’t hurt yourself!” Mia looked up, her eyes somewhat unfocused yet carrying a strange excitement. “Gideon, you’re back? Look, there seem to be bugs in these bags. They keep making noise. It’s giving me a headache. I cut them open and the bugs ran away.” This was the script I’d taught Mia. A touch of neurosis, but not too exaggerated. Gideon froze for a moment, then turned to look at me standing in the corner. I gave Gideon a slight nod and mouthed the words “having an episode.” A flash of barely concealed pleasure crossed Gideon’s eyes, but he hid it well, immediately putting on an expression of distress. “Mia, have you been under too much stress lately? It’s okay, I’m here. Evelyn, go call Dr. Hayes. Have him come check on Mia.” Dr. Hayes was Gideon’s college friend, now a psychiatrist at a private clinic. In the original timeline, it was Dr. Hayes who repeatedly issued false diagnoses for Mia, calling normal anxiety bipolar disorder and insomnia a precursor to schizophrenia. I’d been waiting for Dr. Hayes to make this move. “Of course, Gideon. I’ll contact him right away.” I turned toward the kitchen, pretending to make a call, but actually pulled out a packet of powerful laxatives from my bag. Dr. Hayes arrived quickly, carrying his signature silver medical case, wearing gold rimmed glasses, the very picture of a refined scumbag. “Gideon, how is Mia’s condition?” “Not good. She was just cutting bags, saying there were bugs inside. Dr. Hayes, please take a look. Has that illness gotten worse?” Gideon spoke while giving Dr. Hayes meaningful looks. Dr. Hayes understood perfectly. He sat across from Mia and began the diagnostic routine he’d rehearsed countless times. I walked over carrying water I’d just poured. “Dr. Hayes, thank you for coming. Have some water.” I deliberately handed the doctored glass to Dr. Hayes, my movements respectfully flawless. Dr. Hayes took the water without suspicion and drank a large gulp. “Miss Lancaster, have you been hearing strange voices lately? Or seeing things other people can’t see?” Mia hugged her knees, trembling. “Yes, many people are cursing me, saying I don’t deserve to live…” Her acting skills. Such a waste she wasn’t winning Best Actress awards. Gideon put his arm around Mia’s shoulders with false concern. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Those are hallucinations.” Less than ten minutes later, Dr. Hayes’s expression began to change. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He clutched his stomach, his face contorting. “Um… Gideon, may I use the restroom?” “Over there.” Dr. Hayes practically waddled into the bathroom with his legs squeezed together. While Gideon went to the balcony to take a call, probably reporting the situation to Lydia, I quickly walked to Dr. Hayes’s medical case on the coffee table and opened his laptop. I knew Dr. Hayes’s password. In the previous timeline, when he was on trial in court, this password was made public as evidence. It was his first love’s birthday. The computer booted up quickly. I rapidly located a folder named “Patient Files.” Inside was a medical record for Mia that had been prepared in advance, brazenly stating “severe bipolar disorder with violent tendencies, recommend involuntary hospitalization.” Besides Mia’s, there were several other false medical records of billionaire wives. Dr. Hayes was apparently a repeat offender. I pulled out a flash drive and copied the entire folder as fast as I could. The progress bar crawled agonizingly slowly. I kept my eyes on the screen while listening for sounds from the bathroom and balcony. The toilet flushed, followed by the sound of the door handle turning.

Evelyn’s POV I yanked out the flash drive, closed the laptop, and retreated to my corner, the entire process smooth as silk, though my heart was pounding like it would burst through my chest. Dr. Hayes emerged weakly, his face sallow. “Sorry, I must have eaten something bad.” He sat back down, not daring to drink any more water, and after asking a few cursory questions, pulled out a document. “Gideon, based on Mia’s current symptoms, she does show tendencies of severe bipolar disorder. I recommend starting with medication to control it. If the situation deteriorates, it would be best to send her to a professional treatment facility.” Gideon took the diagnosis, his hands trembling slightly from excitement. “Good. Whatever Dr. Hayes says. As long as Mia can be cured, money is no object.” Mia sat with her head down, shoulders shaking as if crying, but I knew she was trying not to laugh. Gideon locked the diagnosis in his safe, where he considered most secure. But I touched the burning flash drive in my pocket and smirked inwardly. That was nothing but waste paper. The real bomb was in my hands. After seeing Dr. Hayes off, Gideon was in high spirits, even giving me an approving look. “Evelyn, you did well today. From now on, make sure Mia takes the medication Dr. Hayes prescribes on time. Understood?” “Don’t worry, Gideon. I’ll make sure to watch her ‘carefully.’” I emphasized the word “carefully.” Those pills would go straight down the drain, every last one. Gideon moved faster than I’d expected. The day after obtaining the fake diagnosis, he brought Lydia home. “Mia, this is Lydia. She just returned from abroad and has nowhere to stay temporarily. You haven’t been feeling well lately, so Lydia can keep you company and cheer you up.” Lydia wore a white dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, that harmless smile on her face, carrying a basket of fruit. “Miss Lancaster, hello. Gideon’s mentioned you often, saying you’re beautiful and capable. Meeting you today, I see he wasn’t exaggerating.” The greeting sounded sweet, but I clearly saw the ambition and provocation hidden in Lydia’s eyes. Mia sat in a wheelchair. This was also my suggestion. If you’re going to play sick, go all in. Looking frail couldn’t hurt. Mia looked at Lydia, the pillow in her hands twisted out of shape. Last night I’d shown Mia Lydia’s file. This woman’s private life abroad had been an utter mess. She’d returned home to take over the Lancaster family business and snag Gideon, the scheming man. “If she’s Gideon’s friend, then let her stay. Evelyn, show Lydia to the guest room.” Mia’s voice was soft, sounding weak and breathless. Gideon nodded with satisfaction, seemingly surprised and pleased by Mia’s compliance. “Lydia, make yourself at home. If you need anything, just tell Evelyn.” I led Lydia upstairs. The moment she entered the guest room, the smile dropped from her face. She ran her finger disgustedly along the desk. “What kind of dump is this? So much dust. Is this how you people serve guests?” I stood in the doorway, expressionless. “Miss, this room was cleaned just yesterday. If you find it unsatisfactory, you’re welcome to clean it yourself.” Lydia turned around and looked me up and down, her eyes full of disdain. “You’re Evelyn? I heard you’re a dog Gideon bought with money? Since you’re a dog, you should act like one. Don’t bark at your master.” She pulled out a stack of bills from her bag and threw them in my face. “Take the money. From now on, you do whatever I tell you to do. Got it?” Bills scattered across the floor. I bent down and picked them up one by one. Why not take free money? This was emotional distress compensation. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be obedient.” Lydia snorted and turned to unpack her luggage, muttering under her breath, “What a cheap bitch.” I pocketed the money, closed the door, and headed to the surveillance room.

Evelyn’s POV Yesterday, I’d already installed pinhole cameras in various corners of the Lancaster house, especially at the stairwell, living room, and Mia’s bedroom. I knew someone as scheming as Lydia would never behave herself. The first thing she’d do here was assert dominance over Mia and stage another sob story for Gideon. Sure enough, before dinner, the show began. Gideon hadn’t returned yet. Mia was reading in the second-floor sitting room. Lydia walked over carrying a cup of hot coffee, her steps deliberately swaying. “Mia, reading? Have some coffee to perk up.” Lydia approached Mia, deliberately stumbled, and the entire cup of scalding coffee flew toward Mia’s face. Mia was prepared. She dodged to the side, and the coffee splashed onto the sofa. “Oh my, I’m so sorry, Mia! I didn’t mean to!” While apologizing, Lydia took the opportunity to viciously pinch Mia’s arm. Mia cried out in pain and instinctively pushed Lydia. The push wasn’t forceful, but Lydia acted as if she’d been struck by a sledgehammer, her whole body flying backward and rolling straight down the stairs. “Help! Mia’s trying to kill me!” At that moment, the front door opened. Gideon happened to walk in. He looked up to see Lydia rolling down like a broken doll, landing at his feet with a gash on her forehead, blood flowing out. “Lydia!” Gideon dropped his briefcase and rushed over to cradle Lydia. Lydia leaned weakly against Gideon, pointing at Mia upstairs, tears streaming down her face. “Gideon… Mia… she said I was trying to seduce you… she pushed me… my head is so dizzy…” Gideon’s head snapped up, his eyes glaring viciously at Mia. “Mia! Have you lost your mind? Lydia is my friend. How could you be so vicious!” Mia stood at the top of the stairs, face pale, trembling all over. This wasn’t an act. Mia was genuinely furious at this scene and hurt by Gideon’s look. “I didn’t… Lydia did it herself…” “Shut up! I saw it with my own eyes! What excuse do you have?” Gideon stood up holding Lydia and strode outside. “I’m taking Lydia to the hospital for an examination! Mia, if anything happens to Lydia, I won’t let you off!” Mia tried to chase after them to explain, but I stopped her. “Don’t go.” I pulled Mia back to her room. “Let Gideon go.” “But Evelyn, Gideon misunderstood me! That woman did it on purpose!” Mia stamped her foot anxiously. “I know Lydia did it on purpose. Gideon probably knows too, but he just wants an excuse to blow up.” I opened my phone and pulled up the surveillance video from earlier. The footage clearly recorded how Lydia deliberately spilled the coffee, and how she deliberately used the force of Mia’s light push to jump backward and roll down the stairs. Especially that little adjustment Lydia made before rolling to protect herself. A perfect fake fall. “Look, this floor really is too hard. Lydia should wear knee pads next time she performs, or those knees are going to bruise.” I pointed at Lydia’s somewhat awkward posture on the screen and sneered. Mia watched the video and gradually calmed down, the tears in her eyes receding. “Should we… send this video to Gideon now?” “No. If we send it now, Gideon will just become angry from embarrassment and might even destroy the evidence.” I put away my phone. “We need to wait for the right moment. Like when we can slap Gideon in the face in front of everyone.”

Evelyn’s POV That night, Gideon stormed back. As soon as he entered, he slammed a diagnosis of “mild concussion” on the table. “Mia, you’re absolutely unreasonable! Lydia is such a pure and kind girl, and you could actually hurt her? Starting today, you stay in your room and reflect. Without my permission, you’re not to step one foot out!” Mia sat on the sofa holding a cup of coffee, surprisingly calm. “Gideon, are you sure I pushed Lydia?” “Of course! If not you, then who? Did Lydia roll down by herself?” “Perhaps.” I walked forward at the right moment, holding a tablet. “Gideon, to ensure the house’s security, I installed surveillance at the stairwell a couple days ago. It was meant to prevent thieves, but it captured something interesting.” Gideon’s expression changed instantly. I tapped the video and played it. In the footage, Lydia’s clumsy acting was laid bare, even capturing the look she snuck at the door to see if Gideon had come in. After watching the video, Gideon’s face turned from blue to white. What a sight. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. “Gideon, does this count as… faking a fall for fraud?” I asked with a smile. Gideon took a deep breath, crumpled the diagnosis into a ball, and stuffed it in his pocket. “This matter… perhaps Lydia accidentally slipped. She was just frightened and spoke nonsense. Mia, since it’s a misunderstanding, let’s move on. Don’t be too petty. After all, Lydia is a guest.” That’s it? Moving on? Not even an apology? Mia was about to explode when I gently pressed her hand. “Gideon’s right. We all live under one roof. Why hold grudges? But Lydia’s balance really is concerning. She should hold the railing when using stairs from now on. Otherwise if she falls again next time, the surveillance might not always be running.” Gideon glared at me and went upstairs to Lydia’s room. I knew he was going to comfort that schemer, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the seed of doubt had been planted in Gideon’s mind. Though he was protecting Lydia, someone as selfish as Gideon would never tolerate being played for a fool. Lydia’s sob story not only failed to hurt Mia, but actually made Lydia lose points with Gideon. This was my welcome gift to Lydia. Lydia’s fall didn’t manage to hurt Mia but left herself bruised and swollen, hiding in her room for several days without daring to show her face. But this didn’t make Gideon settle down. Soon, the Lancaster Corporation’s annual charity gala was about to begin. This was a major event in elite circles and a key step in Gideon’s plan to transfer assets. Two days before the gala, Gideon came to Mia with a thick document. “Mia, we need to set an example at this gala. I want to establish a charitable trust fund in your name and donate part of your shares in Lancaster Entertainment specifically to support education in remote areas.” It sounded noble. I stood nearby pouring water and glanced at the document. On the surface it was a charitable trust, but the terms hid traps. Though the actual controller and beneficiary were written vaguely, after layers of investigation, everything ultimately pointed to an offshore shell company belonging to Gideon. Once Mia signed, those shares would vanish into the fund, never to be seen again, while Gideon would get the reputation of a “philanthropist.” I sneered. Perfect. Using this “document,” Mia and I would prepare a surprise for Gideon.

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On my wedding day, my fiancé was taken away for raping a female student. I chased after him in my wedding dress, wanting to clear his name. Only to learn that he had turned himself in voluntarily. He said to me apologetically: “Lily’s family found out she was raped and forced her to marry the rapist. I couldn’t bear to see her end up like that, so I came forward to take the blame.” “Lily’s family said if I agree to marry her, they’ll drop the charges. Just handle the school’s inquiries and the public opinion for me.” “Lily and I agreed it’s a fake marriage for three years. After three years, I’ll make it up to you with a proper wedding. Will you wait for me?” I calmly turned and left. Casually removed my veil and placed it on a stray dog by the roadside. Ethan Miller, what makes you think I’ll wait for you? Ethan told me to return to the wedding venue immediately to appease the school leaders and calm the rumors. But I only did two things. First, I notified his school that I was withdrawing my investment in his project and closing his laboratory. Second, I left the wedding venue directly and went back to our apartment. I wiped away my tears and cleaned out every trace of Ethan from the house, one item at a time. The matching couple’s mugs we made together in our pottery class, the matching pajamas we wore every night… And the wedding photos we’d just received yesterday, carefully framed… I threw everything into the bathroom, lit them with a lighter, and watched them burn beyond recognition. Watching the flames rise, I called the wedding hotel. “I’m not getting married. Ask the groom’s side to settle the balance. Please send my things stored at the hotel to my house.” But the hotel manager’s surprised voice came through the phone. “But the groom just said the wedding is still on, just postponed by one day? He also said we got the photos and bride’s name wrong, and asked us to change the bride’s name to Lily Smith.” A sharp pain pierced my heart. That wedding was something I’d spent ten years planning, piece by piece. Whether the flowers or the decorations, everything was handmade by me over six months. Ethan clearly knew this was our dream wedding. Yet he wanted to give it to his female student? I took a deep breath, suppressing the pain in my heart, and said: “Whatever. Just send my things back. Especially the bracelet in the safe.” The manager sounded even more surprised: “But the groom already took the bracelet from the safe. He said he wanted to give it to the bride as a wedding gift.” My head exploded with a thunderous sound. I immediately hung up and frantically called Ethan. Every call I made was rejected by him. Finally, on the eighteenth attempt, he answered. With a hint of helpless irritation, he said: “Didn’t I already say not to contact me recently? I need to accompany Lily and play out this fake marriage properly. I was just chatting with Lily’s parents and almost slipped up.” My throat tightened as I hurriedly asked: “Ethan, did you take my bracelet?!” He paused, then laughed: “Yes. Lily’s mother said their custom requires a bracelet among the wedding jewelry. I thought your bracelet was heavy enough and beautiful, so I took it to give to her as a wedding gift.” But my heart still felt like it was being torn apart in pain. “Ethan Miller!!” My voice became shrill, breaking: “That was my mother’s keepsake! How dare you give it to your mistress!” 2 “Give it back! Right now! Send it back to me! Or I’ll call the police! I’ll have you both get married in prison!” I was trembling all over with rage, my words sharp as thorns. Ethan was startled by me, then became angry himself: “What are you saying! I told you it’s just acting! I’m only borrowing it! I’m not keeping it from you!” “I was planning to buy you several similar ones tomorrow as an apology gift. I didn’t expect you…” Rage surged through me. I didn’t want to hear his voice for another second. I hung up and immediately left, took a cab, and gave the driver Lily’s address. I also brought Ethan’s luggage with me. On the way, my phone kept dinging. Text messages from Ethan came through. “I got a bit anxious just now and spoke harshly. Emma, I apologize.” “How about this—I’ll return the bracelet tomorrow, but you need to come to the wedding as Lily’s bridesmaid.” “After all, we were about to get married, but suddenly I’m getting a marriage license with Lily. This doesn’t look good for the young lady’s reputation.” “If you come as a bridesmaid tomorrow, everyone will naturally not think Lily destroyed our relationship. If anyone asks about us tomorrow, cover for me… just say… you cheated and fell in love with someone else, that you wanted to break up with me for a long time. Anyway, don’t implicate Lily…” Reading his messages, I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. But as I laughed, tears had already soaked the hem of my coat. The driver saw this and silently handed me a tissue. I thanked him softly, opened the car door, grabbed the suitcase, and rushed upstairs. I pounded on Lily’s door. The door shook with earth-shattering sounds. Hurried footsteps came from inside, and soon the door opened. “Who is it! At this late hour!” Ethan stood there wearing a pink apron, with flour still on his forehead. My eyes instantly reddened. I had loved Ethan for ten years. I’d witnessed his journey from a poor student to a respected professor. The deepest scar in his heart was from when he worked part-time in a restaurant kitchen during college. Rich kids at school, jealous of him, pinned him to the ground and poured leftovers over his head. “A useless cook dares to steal someone else’s woman.” Since then, he hated cooking with a passion. Even when I was engaged to him and brought him home to meet my gravely ill mother, I only asked him to help bring dishes from the kitchen, and he left with a cold face, slamming the door. Leaving my sick mother heartbroken for me, yet even then, I forced a smile to defend him. From then on, I was even more careful to protect him. I, who never knew how to cook, burned my hands countless times learning to cook for him. I never expected that his scar had already been healed by another woman. The moment Ethan saw me, he froze, then instinctively tugged at his apron guiltily. “Emma, why are you here…” Lily appeared behind him, her small face looking at me nervously: “Miss Carter, why are you here?” She stood in front of Ethan with tears in her eyes: “Miss Carter, if you want to vent, just beat me to death. Professor Miller only did this to help me…” Ethan looked at her with heartache, then yelled at me angrily: “Emma, how can you be so heartless? Lily was being forced by her family to marry the thug who assaulted her. I’m just helping her avoid that fate. Can’t you show some understanding?” 3 “No!” My voice trembled with fury: “If she’s pitiful, that’s a problem between her parents and the person who hurt her! She can refuse! She can call the police and have those people arrested! Why should I sacrifice my marriage and happiness!” “Unless…” My voice was already choking: “Actually, she was never assaulted at all! You two were fooling around and…” Before I could finish, my face was struck hard by a slap. Ethan raised his hand, his face full of anger: “I won’t let you talk about her like that! I already said it! Lily and I are in a fake marriage! Why must you think so maliciously of others?” Our argument drew neighbors from upstairs and downstairs to watch. Someone asked Lily and Ethan: “Lily, who is this? What’s her relationship with your husband?” Lily stammered: “She’s his… ex…” Seeing her hurt expression full of implications, the neighbor understood immediately, looking at me with disgust and even pushing me: “They’re about to get married, and you’re still clinging to her husband—that makes you the mistress! You look decent enough, but have some shame!” “Exactly! Take her picture! Post it online!” I laughed bitterly and threw the suitcase at their feet: “Ethan Miller, tell them who the real mistress is!” The suitcase popped open, but Lily screamed and crouched down. Ethan looked at the fingernail-sized red swelling on her leg. His expression changed instantly: “Emma Carter! Are you done yet! I already got a marriage license with Lily! Who are you calling the mistress!” I looked at him in disbelief and smiled bitterly: “Ethan Miller, this is what you call a fake marriage? Getting a marriage license is fake too?” Knowing he’d misspoken, Ethan guiltily changed the subject: “Over a broken bracelet, you came here to hit people!” “Emma Carter, this is the first time I’ve realized how selfish and cold-blooded you are!” My eyes widened as I watched Ethan storm back into the room in rage. He came out with the bracelet I treasured so dearly and smashed it to the ground. “You want your bracelet, don’t you! Take your junk and get out!” “No!” I screamed and lunged forward to catch it, but I was too late. I watched helplessly as the bracelet shattered on the floor. I looked up sharply, glaring at Ethan with hatred. This was the first time he’d seen anything other than love in my eyes. Even in his anger, there was a moment of panic. But the next second, Lily cried out: “Professor Miller, my leg hurts so much. Could it be fractured?” Ethan immediately snapped back, picked her up, and rushed downstairs past me. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll take you to the hospital.” He left so forcefully and hastily that he knocked me aside as I crouched on the ground. I tumbled down the steep stairs and crashed heavily onto the floor. Amid everyone’s screams and my weak cries, Ethan left without looking back. Before my eyes closed, all I saw was Lily leaning on Ethan’s shoulder, giving me a triumphant smile. In that moment, the sound of my heart breaking was as clear as shattering jade. … Once, Ethan used to protect me the way he now protected Lily. When I was being followed and harassed by those rich kids, terrified, he rushed out to stand in front of me, boldly telling them to get lost. He grabbed my wrist and broke through their encirclement. 4 Later, I learned he was targeted and made things difficult by those spoiled brats because of this. I found him with red eyes to apologize. He just smiled and patted my head, saying: “It’s okay. I just can’t stand to see you cry.” The man who once panicked just seeing my red eyes could now ignore my pain for another girl’s tears. When did Lily start coming between us? Perhaps it was from the day she became Ethan’s graduate student. When he talked about this girl, he said she reminded him of his younger self. But his eyes were full of affection. Or perhaps it was when she called Ethan in tears, saying male students at school were blocking her way to confess their feelings. Ethan, usually calm and rational, actually got into a fight with the male student like a hothead. When I went to bail him out, looking at his swollen lip, I felt bitterness for the first time. He explained to me: “Emma, when I heard about her situation, I thought of how you were bullied before, and I lost my head…” But… When I was in such a predicament before, he only led me away… … When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. The doctor told me worriedly that fortunately I was brought in time. I’d hit the back of my head, causing cerebral hemorrhaging. I’d almost not woken up. I thanked him softly, got my wounds treated, and left the hospital. As soon as I reached the entrance to my building, several sleazy men followed me. “You’re that bitch from online, right?” “You look decent, but you’re so vicious inside. You even hired thugs to bully a female student. Since you like finding men so much, today we brothers will let you experience it too!” They laughed menacingly and rushed at me, tearing at my clothes. I screamed desperately, kept backing away, but they still tore my clothes and pinched bruises all over my body. It wasn’t until the building’s security guard arrived and called the police that they scattered. I knelt on the ground, trembling uncontrollably. The security guard looked down at me with contempt in his eyes: “You deserved it. Who told you to be so malicious and bully an innocent young lady?” I looked up sharply, my voice trembling. “What did you say?” The security guard sneered and left. My head buzzed and exploded. I quickly pulled out my phone to check. Sure enough, I saw a clarification post from Ethan. “Sorry for wasting public resources. Regarding my assault on a female student, it was a misunderstanding. My ex, Emma Carter, hired thugs to assault my student out of jealousy, causing her to be forced to marry that beast!” “I felt sorry for her and came forward to take responsibility to protect her. But I didn’t expect her to have such a bad attitude. Not only did she not repent, but she got worse, so I decided to expose everything.” “I will also take responsibility and marry my student, taking care of her for life!” Lily commented below: “With you here, I’m not afraid of anything.” Blood rushed to my brain. I felt like I’d been struck hard. Below this post were all blessings and horrifying curses. My photos were photoshopped into various obscene images, and some said they’d dox my address to teach me a lesson. My phone was filled with vile, abusive messages.

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When he promised me a bright future, his eyes held only me. Back then we had nothing, cramming ourselves into a rented room to eat stale bread. He held me and said, “When the company goes public, I’ll marry you.” I stayed with him through the hardest days, from a basement startup to a ten-billion-dollar fortune. I naively waited for that day. But when the company finally went public, he held the hand of a woman in white and said to me, “Sophia, you need to be understanding.” The day news of his marriage to Charlotte spread, I was doing my makeup. Aaron carefully carried in documents, not daring to lift his head even once. He’d been by Ethan’s side for a long time, witnessing all our vows of eternal love. Even he knew to feel guilty. What about you, Ethan? I laughed self-mockingly and casually took the documents without signing. “Where is he?” Aaron lowered his head even further. “Mr. Sterling is in a meeting and can’t get away, but he’s been thinking of you constantly.” My smile didn’t reach my eyes. “He’s with Charlotte, isn’t he?” Aaron fell silent. So I’d guessed right. Whatever. I watched Aaron leave. Outside, unseasonable snow began to fall, landing lightly on my heart. My first meeting with Ethan was in weather just like this. My father returned from a business trip with a young man at his side. He wore a black coat. Though young, his sharp eyes radiated calm authority. I stood behind the corridor. My father spotted me and beckoned me over. “This is my daughter Sophia. She’s my only child. I’ve spoiled her terribly. If she offends you, I’ll discipline her myself.” I stood frozen, thinking only that this young man was impossibly handsome, forgetting to respond. He smiled, his eyes showing a trace of gentleness that made my vision blur. I didn’t know then that he would become a business titan worth billions. I called him Ethan and pestered him to teach me about business. He showed no impatience. Through blazing summers and bitter winters, he accompanied me running deals on the front lines. My mother teased me. “Your father used to make you wake early to review reports, and you’d cry like a monkey. Now look at you, running to the office every day. You’ve gotten taller and darker. You don’t look like a girl at all. I wonder how you’ll ever get married.” I said it didn’t matter, but my hands kept applying skincare products. A young girl’s feelings are always transparent. I loved his composure, his occasional melancholy, his every word and action, his every gesture. Ethan treated me well too. In his spare time he’d take me to drink wine. Each time he returned from business trips, he brought me novel gifts. I was spirited and impulsive, yet this decisive man used nothing but gentle words with me. Besides my father and my brother Jason, he was the best man to me. The world was in chaos then, the internet wave sweeping in, countless startups rising and falling. My family had been in business for generations. My father wasn’t rigid like ordinary men – from childhood he taught me finance, strategy, management, and business logic. As a child I hated these lessons, always envying the neighbor girl who could act spoiled and throw tantrums, while I got scolded by my father if my PowerPoints weren’t good enough. Fortunately, Ethan was a good teacher. He never spoke harshly to me. Even when extremely frustrated, he’d just take a deep breath and smile with resignation. “Sophia, the cherries in the suburbs are ripe. Let me take you to pick some.” I tossed aside my laptop and followed him. He drove me to an orchard, nimbly climbed a tree, and picked a bag of cherries. I munched happily on the cherries. A breeze blew gently. He sat on the hillside in his black clothes, staring intently at the cherries in his hand. Ethan’s mother had loved cherries most. Back then I was carefree and didn’t recognize the emotion he was emanating – called sorrow. That autumn night, I watched fireworks with him but encountered an attack by business rivals. We fled together, scrambling into an abandoned factory. He had multiple knife wounds and soon developed a high fever. He became delirious with fever, mumbling half-conscious, “Mom, I picked cherries for you. Please try them.” Only then did I learn his family had suffered a major tragedy. That tragedy was extremely brutal. I couldn’t imagine how an eight-year-old Ethan survived that disaster. Touching his burning body, my heart ached terribly. I soaked my clothes in cold water, moved swiftly through the night, removed his shirt and held his solid chest, trying to cool him down. After several trips, he finally wasn’t burning anymore. At dawn the next day, the morning chill made me sneeze. Ethan, nestled in my arms, suddenly woke. Our eyes met. Ethan, who’d faced a dozen thugs the night before without changing expression, now touched his bare upper body and for the first time blushed. Shortly after returning, I fell ill. I lay in bed like a dead fish, my throat burning. Ethan was devastated, sitting by the bed feeding me almond milk, staying awake for four whole days. Finally my mother couldn’t stand it and persuaded him to change clothes and sleep. Before turning twenty, Ethan could already lead a team to secure agency rights for the entire East Coast region. My father praised him endlessly whenever he mentioned him. He said Ethan was accomplished beyond his years, with immeasurable prospects, and wanted to betroth me to him. My mother said Ethan was no ordinary man and worried. My father laughed heartily, saying his daughter naturally deserved the best man in the world. I eavesdropped outside the door. Truth was, since that night in the factory, I’d already considered myself Ethan’s. But if you’d lived to see this day, you’d surely regret that decision.

I was with Ethan for seven years. When he turned thirty, when his company went public and he was worth billions, the person he chose to marry wasn’t me. He held Charlotte’s hand. They chatted pleasantly. The woman wore a white dress, gentle and lovely, delicate as a flower. Of course. A man like Ethan should naturally like someone like Charlotte. Charlotte was his biggest investor’s daughter. Now he needed capital to consolidate his empire. A marriage alliance was the best choice. I should have known. I stumbled back to the apartment in a daze, but in my mind was the night we got our marriage certificate at nineteen. He held me and said, “Sophia, I, Ethan Sterling, will never let you down in this lifetime.” The night I discovered him with Charlotte, I said I wanted to leave. For the first time in his life he lost his temper with me, his suppressed anger barely contained. “Sophia, you need to be understanding.” But I’m your wife! I couldn’t suppress the sourness in my eyes, stubbornly refusing to look at him. We remained at an impasse for a while. Finally he softened his voice, trying to reason with me. “She and I are just business partners. I only love you. After all these years, don’t you know that?” I said nothing. He continued. “I’ll make you company vice president with the same stake as me. You won’t have to bow to anyone.” I looked deeply at his features. They were no different from before, yet I couldn’t find a trace of familiarity. Was he still my Ethan? “Can I make one request?” He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I’d compromised, and quickly asked what I wanted. “Let Jason go.” He froze, instinctively saying, “No.” I laughed coldly and pointed to the door, telling him to leave. “I’ll agree to anything you ask, except this. Sophia, don’t make this difficult for me.” Making it difficult – as if I were being unreasonable. When Ethan conquered half his business empire, my father died in that merger war. I held his cold body, crying until no more tears came. He, usually calm and composed, also reddened his eyes. I said I no longer had a father. He pulled me into his arms, lips trembling, saying “don’t be afraid” over and over. My family poured out all our wealth and exhausted all our connections for Ethan. Jason was sent to prison by him on charges of “corporate espionage,” while I was placated with a vice president position. Jason fought alongside him in the business world, but in the end, Ethan couldn’t tolerate him. Since my father’s death, they’d gradually developed conflicts and began competing openly and covertly. Ethan worried Jason’s prestige would exceed his own. The first thing he did after going public was fabricate evidence and send him to prison with a heavy sentence. I didn’t blame him. But he shouldn’t have used such charges to tarnish Jason’s name. I looked at him pleadingly, crushing my former pride. What did it matter – spending a lifetime at the company, competing with many women for one man’s favor, becoming what I once despised most? Compared to Jason’s life, what did it matter? I traded my compliance for his promise – to let Jason serve his sentence under house arrest, leave the business world, and never step foot in this circle again. Seeing me like this for the first time, he contemplated for a long while before finally saying softly, “Alright.” After many days, a weight finally lifted from my heart. I sincerely thanked him. As long as someone’s alive, there’s still hope.

Before the wedding, I didn’t see Ethan once. I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the city skyline. How absurd – just a year ago today, I was chasing Ethan across the desert in an SUV. Now I’d become a resentful woman confined to her chambers. The hotel was holding a ceremony. Even from miles away, the exuberant cheers reached my ears. My assistant Peach came out, saying my health was poor and I couldn’t stand the cold wind. I should go back inside. I found it somewhat amusing. Once upon a time I could work three days and nights straight, praised as an iron lady with heroic grace. Now people said my health was poor. Thinking carefully, I hadn’t slept well in a very long time. I asked Peach to bring me sedatives. After taking them I prepared for sleep. Ethan came home half-drunk, stumbling into my apartment. He kissed my lips as he used to, removed my clothes, and bent his head to work. I suddenly spoke. “Is this how you treat Charlotte too?” He froze abruptly and climbed off me. “Why bring her up?” I smiled and dressed. “Now she’s the legitimate Mrs. Sterling.” I still remembered when he’d first achieved success, someone sent him a female celebrity. I made a scene at the company, humiliating the partner who sent her. Ethan just looked at me with indulgence and laughed, dismissed the person, and bought me a limited-edition sports car to appease me. Back then, I wouldn’t allow anyone to take any of Ethan’s love. “When we’re together, let’s not mention others, okay?” He patiently coaxed me, wanting me to act spoiled with him like before. I smiled bitterly. “That I’m still willing to stay here is already my biggest concession. From now on, don’t come to my place.” He sat up abruptly, gripping my face in the dim light, forcing me to look at him. “Sophia, what do you mean?” I looked directly at him. “I made myself very clear. Don’t you understand?” Anger flashed in his eyes, like a venomous wolf. My shoulder had an old injury – from when I’d blocked a knife for him. It ached unbearably on rainy days. But now he paid no heed to my injury, gripping my shoulder with brutal force. I curled up in pain. He ignored it, still ramming recklessly. “Sophia! No one can defy me!” That night was exceptionally long. Afterward, he tossed me aside like a rag. “Think it over. I’m leaving.” The lights went out. Tears slid down my face, burying themselves in my hair. I suddenly felt panicked. If my father and mother had spirits in heaven, what would they think seeing me like this? Ethan, you promised my father. You can’t treat me this way.

The night before Jason left, I visited him at the detention center. After this parting, I didn’t know when my brother and I would meet again. Seeing the wounds on Jason’s hands, my nose stung. “I’m useless. I couldn’t protect you.” He shook his head. “What kind of man needs his sister’s protection? How embarrassing would that be?” He was silent for a long time, then suddenly spoke. “My father and I failed to judge character and let a wolf into our home. How could I blame you? From now on you’ll be alone. It’ll be hard on you.” I wiped away tears. “Live well after you get out. Don’t harbor any rash thoughts. Ethan now isn’t the same as he was.” No one could oppose him anymore. He looked at me with a smile, his messy hair unable to hide his handsomeness. “Sophia’s all grown up.” Jason left. He was restricted from leaving the country, his phone’s location tracked 24/7. He had to report to local authorities regularly and couldn’t even find decent work. My once-proud brother now struggled just to survive. I begged Ethan to help smooth things over. He agreed verbally but then arranged for Jason to go to the most remote small city, euphemistically calling it “lying low.” Ethan restricted my freedom. I couldn’t see Jason off. I gazed into the distance, silently repeating: it’s good he’s gone, it’s good he’s gone. Far from this place of conflict, to find his own vast sky. I hoped Jason’s remaining years would go more smoothly than mine. … After Ethan went public, only Charlotte and I were women in the company. I was sewing a small bag when the secretary announced Charlotte’s arrival. He’d specifically permitted me not to bow to anyone, so to this day I hadn’t met her alone. She still wore a white dress, looking pure and flawless, beautiful beyond mortal women. “I’ve been wanting to visit you, but I’ve been busy accompanying Ethan lately and couldn’t get away. I’ve only come to see you today. Please don’t blame me.” She sat down casually with a sweet smile, giving no grounds for criticism. I studied my embroidery pattern carefully. “Charlotte, you’re too kind. I can’t accept being called that. I should be the one visiting you.” She propped her chin up. “You’ve fought alongside Ethan for years. That he lets you bow to no one – what respect that shows. Unlike me, I spent my days in my chamber before. Ethan felt sorry for me and didn’t want me to live a life on the knife’s edge with him…” I paused. The needle pricked my finger. I heard the turbulent voice within my heart, though my face remained calm. “When did you two meet?” Charlotte smiled shyly, the picture of feminine charm. “Ethan and I? Three years ago, I suppose. My father greatly admired him. He promised to marry me, so my father invested to help him go public…” Three years ago, three years ago… So early… Back then we were still the couple everyone in the company envied. I looked at the pouch in my hands. I used to dislike this detailed work, but Ethan’s clothes inevitably came undone, so I learned to clumsily use a sewing needle to mend them. Ethan wore pajamas, propping his head up under the lamp watching me with a smile. “Viewing a beauty by lamplight truly has special charm.” I blushed and glared at him. “We’re an old married couple and you’re still so improper.” … My vision blurred. My attendant Peach noticed something wrong and quickly came to support me. I waved my hand indicating I was fine. “I’m not feeling well. Please leave. Come another day.” Charlotte pouted, looking bored as she left. I instructed Peach to throw away all the needlework. Peach looked regretful. “But it’s almost finished. Why would you…” I interrupted her. “No reason. I just never want to touch it again.” Something already dirty – why keep it for nostalgia?

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While negotiating with an important client, I had my phone on silent all day. Who knew that when I got back, I’d be stopped by my fiancée Livia’s male secretary, Parker: “You didn’t reply ‘received’ in the work group chat today. That’s a five-thousand-dollar fine!” I assumed he didn’t know about my work schedule and paid him no mind. The next day, Livia actually kicked me out of the company, with Parker fanning the flames on the side. “The company has long had a rule that you must reply to work messages within two minutes. You’re using your high position to break the law yourself—isn’t that setting a bad example?” Livia actually spoke up for him too: “You’re showing contempt for the rules! You’re suspended. You’ll stay suspended until you pay up!” I looked down at the materials I’d worked so hard on for the bidding project and laughed. Then I called my eldest sister, Porter. “I’ve got a fifty-million-dollar winning bid project to give you. Also, I’m accepting that job offer you made before. I’ll start at your company in three days.”

“What’s this? You’ve finally come around? Didn’t you refuse to come back even when I offered you a million-dollar annual salary?” Porter’s tone was full of teasing. Thinking of how Livia had made me leave the company because of Parker, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. “Don’t even mention it. As long as your company doesn’t have rules like ‘get fined if you don’t reply received in the work group within five minutes,’ that’s good enough. I’ll report to your place in three days.” “Then it’s settled. You can’t back out this time!” Not long after I finished talking with Porter, Livia called me. “I left the bidding documents in my car. Come get them for me.” Parker’s deliberately amplified voice came through. “Ms. Livia, these tasks are what I, as an assistant, should do. How can we have Mr. Joseph do them? Mr. Joseph already resents me after being fined today. Let me go instead…” That stern female voice didn’t even think twice before comforting him. “It’s so hot out, and you have a weak constitution—you’re not suited for running back and forth. Besides, he showed contempt for company rules. You were just doing your duty by giving him a friendly reminder.” “Joseph, I’m only giving you ten minutes. If I don’t see those documents, pack up your things and leave the company!” The call was hung up mercilessly. I stood there stunned for a long time, then laughed at myself mockingly. My fiancée had scolded me without question for the sake of another man. She’d even made me take over what should have been someone else’s task because she felt sorry for him. I still went to get the documents—after all, I still needed to hand things over for my resignation. Livia took the documents. I was about to bring up resigning when, without even looking at me, she handed the documents directly to Parker. “I’m announcing something now. Because Joseph showed contempt for company rules, I’ve decided to demote him.” “From now on, Parker will take over Joseph’s position. Joseph will be demoted to assistant to support his work.” Parker looked at her with flattered surprise. “I… Ms. Livia, you’re so good to me!” “It’s just a bit hard on Joseph. But you’ve been Vice President for several years now and had enough leisure time. You should work as an assistant for a while to get some proper training.” Listening to Livia heap praise on him, my heart felt as if it were being strangled by a pair of hands—for a moment, the pain left me unable to breathe. Everyone at the company knew I was Livia’s fiancé, but under her management, I’d never received any special treatment because of that relationship. On the contrary, she was even stricter with me than with ordinary employees. I started from the bottom, drank until I ended up in the hospital, secured countless projects—all just to make it to Vice President. She always said, “I don’t want you to be treated differently because you’re my fiancé. This is how I’m tempering you.” But when it came to Parker, her principles could bend again and again. Parker’s face was full of smugness as he pulled out several reimbursement forms. “Joseph, when you’re in a position, you do the work. So I’ll have to enforce the rules. These are receipts from the hotels you stayed at on previous business trips.” “The company has long said we need to cut costs, yet you still stayed at five-star hotels. You’re just an assistant now—these expenses can’t be reimbursed.” Livia snorted coldly and praised him. “You’ve just taken over and already know how to create profits for the company. My judgment really is excellent.” My fingertips dug deep into my palms as I forced myself to stay calm. “You can give the Vice President position to whoever you want, but I won’t accept this assistant position.” “I came here specifically to resign. And Livia, let’s cancel our engagement.”

[Your onboarding procedures are all set. Just come report for duty the day after tomorrow.] I received Porter’s message while I was packing my luggage, preparing to leave what had once been our wedding home. Livia came back with Parker. Seeing me at home, she frowned. “Why are you here?” My hands paused in their movement. I couldn’t help but reply sarcastically. “You must have forgotten—this is my home too.” She seemed not to have expected this attitude from me, who had always been so compliant. After a moment of surprise, she softened her tone. “Parker’s neighborhood has had security issues lately. He’s now the company’s Vice President with significant authority. As his superior, I should naturally show concern.” “So I’ve decided to let him stay at our place for the time being, until he’s saved enough money to move out.” This was clearly an announcement, not a request for my agreement. Parker stepped forward with fake sincerity. “Joseph, I don’t want to intrude on your and Ms. Livia’s life either, but Ms. Livia was so worried about me being alone that she insisted I stay here.” “She even said that you’re older and more tolerant, so you wouldn’t mind these things.” Over these years, I’d heard countless provocative remarks like this, but this time my heart was already unmoved. I picked up my luggage and said coldly. “Do as you please. I already said the engagement is cancelled. Who you want to bring into this room has nothing to do with me.” Near the entryway, Livia suddenly grabbed my hand, saying with displeasure. “A whole night has passed and you still haven’t calmed down? Yesterday you embarrassed me in front of so many people and I didn’t even make an issue of it. What exactly are you trying to pull?” “Pull?” I laughed mockingly, pressing down all the questions I wanted to ask her and Parker. Looking at this carefully decorated wedding home, I suddenly felt pathetically foolish. In this house, she had once knelt on one knee to propose to me. “Joseph, I promise you—I’ll never let you suffer even a little bit ever again.” In the past, whenever we had even the slightest conflict, she would immediately put down her work to comfort me. But now, knowing full well that I was upset, she dealt with it by giving me the cold shoulder for a night to “calm down on my own.” I shook off her hand and said flatly. “I’m serious about cancelling the engagement. I’ll have you submit my resignation letter for me.” Parker suddenly rushed forward to block me, bowing and apologizing profusely. “Joseph! This is all my fault! I shouldn’t have come here and made you think I was taking your place!” “I’ll resign right now and never appear in front of Ms. Livia again!” With those words, he rushed out the door. Livia clenched her fists tight, pushed me away hard, and roared furiously. “Joseph! Won’t you be happy until you’ve driven Parker to his death?! The whole company has been talking about him because of yesterday’s incident. He only fined you to set an example for everyone else!” “If he doesn’t live and travel with me, he’ll be ostracized by everyone at the company! This is me atoning for your sins! There’s nothing between Parker and me—can you please put away those filthy thoughts of yours!” I crashed into the cabinet by the door, my lumbar vertebrae nearly breaking. And she left with a slam of the door, not even looking back once.

I prepared my onboarding documents to go to Porter Group, but just before leaving, Livia’s secretary called me. “Mr. Joseph, Mr. Parker hasn’t approved your resignation letter. He wants you to come to the company in person. This is also Ms. Livia’s instruction.” Ms. Livia’s instruction—this was clearly forcing me to go back. Without the resignation procedures completed, the bidding project would still be with Livia’s company. That project was something I’d negotiated by humbling myself countless times. Now that it had finally won the bid, I had to take it with me. Parker looked down at me condescendingly and threw the resignation letter on the ground. “Sorry about that, Joseph. You were Vice President for so many years and you still can’t write a proper resignation letter? You didn’t even clearly write out the project handover. I can’t approve this.” Looking at the resignation letter that had been revised dozens of times on the floor, I clenched my fists and laughed mockingly. “Deliberately targeting me? Parker, I just don’t bother competing with you. Otherwise, with your qualifications, how would you even deserve to sit in the Vice President’s seat?” I picked up the letter and looked at him coldly. “Speaking of which, you did remind me. The projects I’ve worked on over the years all involve the company’s lifeblood. It really isn’t your place to approve them.” Parker arrogantly blocked my way and stuffed a lacy lingerie nightgown into my hands. “Oh, you’re going to see Ms. Livia? Perfect. Help me return this nightgown to Ms. Livia. Last night, Ms. Livia saw I was in a bad mood and insisted on wearing this to cheer me up.” “Let me tell you, never mind firing you for not replying to a message. Even if I said you entered the company with your left foot first and that was wrong, Ms. Livia would listen to me and tell you to get lost!” “Oh, I almost forgot—this outfit got dirty last night when we both got a bit excited. Joseph, wash it for me before you return it. You’ve done plenty of laundry and cooking anyway.” Rage surged from my feet to my head. I could no longer hold back and swung my fist at his face. “Parker, you’re actually proud of being a homewrecker?!” The force clearly wasn’t that great, yet he fell to the ground with a thud, covering his face and crying out in admission of fault. “Joseph, I was wrong, but the resignation letter must follow proper procedures! Hitting me won’t help—anyone would have to follow this process!” Following his words came an aggressive sound of the door being kicked open. Livia looked at him on the ground and, without a moment’s thought, raised her hand and slapped my face. “Joseph! You actually dared to hit Parker!” A burning pain spread across my face. Looking at Livia’s bone-chillingly cold eyes, it took me a while to realize what had happened. “Apologize.” She spoke icily, looking at me with eyes like ten-thousand-year-old ice, piercing me until my whole body went cold. “Won’t you even ask what happened?!” My eyes reddened. I felt my head splitting with pain. I could barely stand steady. “You hit Parker and you still think it’s Parker’s fault?! You’re being completely unreasonable now. Get out of my way! I need to take Parker to the hospital!” She pushed me aside impatiently. With my ears ringing and head dizzy, her push actually made me fall to the ground. She paused while holding Parker’s hand, about to come help me up, when Parker suddenly cried out. “Livia, what do I do? My head feels so dizzy. I don’t know if Joseph’s punch just now injured my brain!” Anxiety filled Livia’s eyes. She looked at me, then at Parker, and finally let go of me. Before losing consciousness, what echoed in my mind was still that deafening slap. And that hard-to-believe yet unavoidable truth. The woman who used to make me breakfast every day had actually raised her hand against me for another man’s sake.

When I woke up, I found myself carried to Livia’s office, lying on the cold floor. Parker was lying on the couch while Livia tenderly disinfected the minor scratches on his face. Hearing me regain consciousness, she turned around, her tone unfriendly. “The doctor already came by. Your punch almost gave Parker internal injuries. Parker is kindhearted—he’s waiving the medical fees.” “You should apologize to Parker.” Parker’s eyes were full of smugness. “Joseph, I really can’t speak up for you this time. The whole company knows you hit me. If there’s no response, how can I establish my authority in the future?” “I’m not asking you to do much—just apologize. Tomorrow I’ll post the video of your apology to the employee group chat, and we’ll consider this matter closed.” I struggled to get up and handed the resignation letter to Livia. “You really don’t need to humiliate me like this. I won’t apologize. Sign it.” She glanced disdainfully at the resignation letter and sneered. “Still trying to use this tactic to threaten me? Where could you possibly go after leaving my company? Don’t think I don’t know—you just don’t want to apologize, so you’re using resignation to scare me.” “Joseph, this is your last chance. If I really sign this, you’ll regret it when it’s too late.” “Apologize!” Anger had already colored her face, but my attitude remained firm. My hand holding out the resignation letter hung frozen in midair. She suddenly laughed coldly twice and snatched the resignation letter, signing it. “Fine! Let’s see where you’ll find another place that lets you live such a life of luxury after leaving me!” “Get out!” Under the watchful eyes of everyone at Livia’s company, I packed up my things and left without looking back.

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Ten years after high school graduation, an old photo of me and my first love went viral. In the picture, we’re wearing our blue and white school jackets, fingers locked together, smiling radiantly at the camera. The internet started rooting for us immediately, launching a massive search to find us. They were disappointed to discover we had broken up years ago. He became the youngest hotshot on Wall Street. I was forced to move back to my dying rust-belt hometown, working to pay off debts, just another person drowning in the grind of daily life. Aside from a single high school reunion, our paths were never supposed to cross again. That same night, an anonymous question trended: “How is your high school sweetheart doing now?” A username I knew all too well caught my eye. His answer was a single, cold line: “Knowing she’s miserable makes me feel a whole lot better.” 01 I stared at those words for a long time. I was the one who helped Austin set up that account back in the day. I even picked the username. The profile picture was still the one I chose—a photo of our hands showing off the matching promise rings we used to wear. The all-seeing eyes of the internet quickly connected the dots, identifying him and boosting his comment to the top. “Holy shit, the guy from the photo actually showed up.” “Damn, dude, aren’t you a super successful big shot now? This seems a little petty.” “I thought you guys had an amicable breakup? Why do you sound like deadly enemies?” Austin didn’t reply again. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain a relationship that was dead and buried. I didn’t leave a comment, either. I just clutched my phone and quietly gave his answer a ‘like.’ 02 The photo stayed in the trending topics longer than anyone expected. A media outlet reached out, wanting to do a quick interview with me. Audio only, no face, just three questions. But they offered two thousand dollars. I couldn’t afford to say no. “How did you feel when you saw that old photo?” the female host asked gently. “Do you have any regrets?” “No,” I said honestly. If that old photo hadn’t suddenly gone viral, I hadn’t thought about the name Austin Miller in a very long time. The boy I loved as a teenager… No matter how unforgettable it felt then, it’s hard to remember forever. Not when I’m working fourteen-hour days, slaving away for a paycheck just to survive. I don’t have time for nostalgia. “What was the specific reason for the breakup?” I was silent for a moment. “I chose my future over him.” The host paused, then asked instinctively, “Do you regret it?” I shook my head, my voice firm. “I don’t.” “Last question,” the host said, her voice softer now. “You both attended your high school reunion last year.” “Did you talk to each other?” My heart stuttered. 03 Austin had come back to town last year. It coincided with our high school’s centennial celebration. He was invited as a guest of honor and casually donated five million dollars. The reunion was organized around that event. Halfway through the dinner, Austin pushed open the door and walked in. The arrival of the newly minted billionaire sent the private dining room into a frenzy. I sat in the corner, feeling like I was on a bed of nails. Without the school jacket, his teenage vibe had mostly faded. He stood there, perfectly poised, a faint smile playing on his lips as his calm gaze swept across everyone in the room. Impossible to read. Austin had other plans that night, so he didn’t stay long. He had a few courtesy drinks, never once glancing my way, paid the entire bill, and left. The party broke up early. I found my rusty moped parked outside, planning to log on and deliver a few food orders before calling it a night. It started pouring, a massive downpour. Trying to rush a delivery for a superstore before the deadline, I made a left turn at a yellow light and collided with a luxury car going straight. When I saw the Bentley emblem, my stomach dropped. The door opened. Austin stepped out, holding an umbrella. “How are you driving? This is a green light, you’re turning left, which means you’re totally at fault. Even a scratch on a car this expensive means sending it back to the factory for a full body job, millions in repair costs…” The driver, seeing the scratched paint, was absolutely frantic to shift the blame. A few steps away, Austin was leaning lazily against the car, impeccably dressed, his expression cold. His eyes swept over me from time to time, as emotionless as a stagnant well. I apologized, my voice barely a whisper. I kept my head down, burying my last shred of self-respect beneath the heavy, oversized helmet. “What’s going on?” A pleasant female voice hit my ears. There was actually a third person in the car. A woman jumped out, holding up her dress. Seeing my pathetic, rain-soaked state, she frowned impatiently. “Mr. Miller, forget it. Let’s not waste time on this small stuff.” Austin didn’t say anything. He stood there silently, eyes cast down, impossible to tell what he was thinking. The woman’s voice took on a wheedling tone. “You’re supposed to take me to meet your parents tonight. If this drags on, what about your parents?” There was only the clear sound of the rain. Then, I thought I heard someone let out a short, sharp laugh. Austin looked at me, his tone cold and mocking. “Yeah. What about them?” 04 I had a moment of total dissociation. What about them? What do I do? In the past, I was always the one asking Austin those questions. What do I do if I can’t finish this essay? What if I fail this test? What if the gas station runs out of Slushies? Austin would just laugh, giving my forehead a sharp, ruthless flick with his finger. “Maya, could you even survive a single day without me?” It seemed like I couldn’t. Austin and I had met in kindergarten; we had never been apart. Whenever things got tough, my first instinct was always to find him. He’d figure it out for me in the end, anyway. Right up until we broke up. Before that, I had never even tied my own shoes. Austin used to jokingly call himself my “personal manservant.” Our classmates teased that I was a charm dangling off Austin’s backpack. He took care of me wherever he went. Austin never denied it. He would just grasp my hand within his, looking down, idly flipping it over and over, playing with my fingers. Sometimes, thinking of something, he would let out a soft sigh. “Maya, if we ever separate.” “I’m the one who won’t be able to survive.” 05 The woman’s name was Sarah. She was Austin’s secretary, and she had been working her tail off at his side for years. Thanks to her, Austin not only didn’t make me pay for the damage, but he also had the driver take me to the hospital for a checkup. I let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. I have a younger sister who just started middle school. It’s a demanding age, a time that requires a lot of money. My mom’s health isn’t good; she’s always in and out of the hospital. Over the years, our savings have dwindled to almost nothing. Taking on debt right now would have been the absolute breaking point for us. While I was at the hospital waiting for the exam results. I overheard the driver gossiping on the phone with a friend: “Yeah, Mr. Miller took Secretary Sarah back to his hometown to meet his parents.” “They started as colleagues, and soon she might be the Mrs… Ah, well, you gotta admit some people are just born lucky. They both came from nothing, but she’s about to marry into money.” “It’s pretty sudden, though. It’s obvious she’s been into Mr. Miller for years, but he’s never had eyes for anyone else because of that ‘lost love’ of his… Guess he finally accepted her.” “Yeah, maybe he finally let go.” I got home really late that night. Exhausted, I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. And I dreamed. I dreamed of the summer right after high school graduation. The college acceptance letters had come. Mine was for D-State. It was on the opposite coast from the school Austin was attending, separated by thousands of miles. Getting into that specific top-tier university had been our shared goal since the start of senior year. Our SAT scores were only separated by a few points. If nothing unexpected had happened, we should have been going to the same place. “How did this happen, Maya?” Austin’s eyes were blood-red, forcing a faint, painful smile. “This had to be a mistake, right? It doesn’t matter. I’ll retake my exams and go to D-State next year. Being a grade behind you is better than being apart for four years.” How could it be a mistake? We had checked and double-checked each other’s applications, terrified that a wrong choice would pull us apart. I pulled my hand away from his, taking a few steps back. “Stop lying to yourself.” My voice was calm, almost cruel in contrast to his obvious agony. “I changed my choice on purpose.” In my peripheral vision, I saw his lean frame go rigid, his face turning ghostly white. “Why?” “So I could be away from you.” “Austin, I only got close to you so you would help me study. I used you.” “The guy I actually like is the president of the math club. He got accepted to D-State, and we’re going together. I lied to you until the very end because I was scared you’d get obsessed and try to apply there, too.” “Austin, I’m begging you. Don’t retake your exams for me. Just leave me alone.” I cast my eyes downward. “I really don’t love you.” 06 The interview video was released soon after. Probably because it lacked any real scandalous gossip, it didn’t generate nearly as much heat as the old photo. But the two thousand dollars was in my account, feeling like easy money. I fantasized about using it for a full physical checkup, maybe even a little trip. But reality was quick to crash down on me. My sister’s homeroom teacher called. She had gotten into a fight with a classmate at school. When I rushed to the hospital, I realized how serious it was. It was a boy whose eye had been scratched. The teacher said he had been inciting other students to isolate my sister, bullying her with cruel words for weeks. My sister finally snapped and lost her temper, trying to fight back. Although she was the victim, she was the one who initiated the physical violence. The tip of her pencil had scratched the boy’s right eyeball. If it wasn’t treated perfectly, it could permanently affect his vision. What shocked me even more… Sarah was the boy’s older sister. She was clutching her crying brother, her face cold as stone. “This isn’t a matter of money.” “This is aggravated assault. Your sister is over fourteen; she can be tried as a juvenile.” “If our Joey’s eye has permanent damage, we will make sure your sister pays the price.” Every word felt like a mountain crushing down on me. My mom was even more terrified, acting hysterical. She cried, physically forcing me to my knees to beg for mercy. Amidst the chaos. I felt my mother’s hands on my shoulders, forcing me down. The moment my knees were about to hit the cold floor. Someone grabbed my arms with a powerful, dominant grip, hauling me back to my feet. 07 Austin had brought in the best eye surgeon in the country. After the surgery, Joey’s eye was mostly fine, and they accepted our compensation package. When everything was finalized, I let out a massive sigh of relief. Austin was out in the hallway, making a phone call. Seeing me approach, he hung up, his face expressionless. “Need something?” The sound of water flowed from the sink as he washed his hands. I had a moment of dissociation. I suddenly remembered a night during senior year. I went to the school washroom, and Austin just happened to be there. Seeing me, he smiled. We were alone. He leaned in and kissed me, quickly and desperately. Ten years have passed. That fleeting sensation of his lips on mine seemed to rush back into my heart at this very moment. I forced a smile and said sincerely, “Thank you.” “You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you.” His eyes were downcast, his tone harsh. “Oh,” I replied. My eyes dropped to his hands and noticed something hanging from his phone case. It was a little stuffed cotton rabbit. I blinked. I had made that by hand when we were kids and given it to him as a silly little gift. He used to hang it from his backpack and refused to change it, even when it got dirty. But when we broke up, he had ruthlessly torn it off and thrown it away right in front of my face. The little rabbit had been torn open, its cotton stuffing spilling out. But now. The place that had been torn open was clumsily sewn back together with thick thread. “Did… did you sew that back together?” I raised my eyes to meet his. Austin awkwardly turned his face away. He looked down for a few seconds, then a slow, mocking sneer curled onto his lips. “What answer are you hoping to hear, Maya?”

During my pre-pregnancy checkup, the female ultrasound tech suddenly let out a loud, disgusted “tsk.” “You’ve got a scar on your lower abdomen. Have you had an abortion before?” “Your cervix shows signs of severe inflammation. Is your private life a mess?” “You’ve probably even had reconstructive surgery to fake your virginity, haven’t you?” Then, without listening to a word of my defense, she looked right at my husband: “You couldn’t get me, so you settled for this used goods?” “Aren’t you afraid of raising someone else’s kid?” I didn’t even have a chance to tell her. Because I was afraid I’d forget the doctor’s instructions, I had my phone’s voice recorder running the entire time… 01 I had been married to Arthur for a year, and we were planning to have a baby. To prepare for our future child, I booked an appointment at the best private hospital in the city for a comprehensive pre-pregnancy checkup. Arthur was excited the entire drive there, holding my hand tightly in his. “Chloe, do you think our baby will look more like you or more like me? “It’d be best if they have your eyes, bright and sparkling, smiling like little crescent moons. And my nose, high and straight. “We need to get the nursery ready ahead of time, and all those little clothes and shoes, we have to use the best quality…” I listened with a smile, feeling very satisfied. Arthur was the husband I had carefully chosen. He came from an ordinary background, but he was honest, good-looking, and incredibly attentive to me. Having grown up around parents who navigated the cutthroat corporate world, I was used to deceit and had no interest in so-called “matching social status” or “power couple” marriages. I just wanted to find a simple, clean guy to live a peaceful, stable life with. And I had more than enough money to maintain that stable life. I used my connections to get him a cushy job at a friend’s company—easy work, no overtime. Because I loved his content and grounded nature, I carefully protected his pride. I never threw the “I support you” fact in his face, nor did I ever mention our financial arrangement to outsiders. The female ultrasound tech was named Dr. Sarah Davis. She looked to be in her early thirties but was already an attending physician. She wore a crisp white coat, her hair pulled back into a strict bun, and gold-rimmed glasses. The gaze behind those lenses exuded an aloof, judgmental arrogance that kept people at a distance. From the moment we walked in, her eyes never left Arthur. And Arthur, the moment he saw her, visibly stiffened, his eyes darting away evasively. My heart gave a slight jolt, but I didn’t show a hint of suspicion on my face. “Hello, Dr. Davis. Thank you for seeing us.” I spoke softly, trying to ease the slightly weird atmosphere. Dr. Davis’s gaze finally shifted from Arthur to my face, her eyes filled with undisguised scrutiny. She didn’t respond, merely pointing coldly to the examination table behind the curtain. “Lie down. Pants down to your knees, shirt pulled up.” Her tone was stiff, like a command, completely lacking the bedside manner a doctor should have. Arthur seemed a bit embarrassed and tried to say something, but I stopped him with a look. I signaled for him not to worry, then quietly pressed the record button on my phone. After all, medical jargon can be confusing, and I was afraid I wouldn’t remember the precautions the doctor might give later. I lay down as instructed. The moment the cold ultrasound gel touched my skin, I couldn’t help but flinch. Then, the ultrasound wand was pressed down. Hard. With a vindictive force, pressing and moving forcefully across my flat stomach. It wasn’t gentle at all, bringing waves of dull, aching pain. I frowned in pain but didn’t make a sound. The only sound in the room was the rhythmic beep of the machine. The atmosphere was terrifyingly oppressive. Just then, Dr. Davis suddenly let out a loud, sharp “tsk.” The sound was sharp and clear, filled with disgust and contempt, like a needle precisely popping the dead silence. I saw Arthur’s face change instantly. He anxiously took a step forward. “Dr. Davis, what’s wrong? Is there a problem with my wife’s health?” 02 Dr. Davis ignored him. The wand pressed repeatedly against a specific spot on my lower abdomen, the pressure increasing. She stared at the screen, but a malicious sneer curled on her lips. Her voice, neither loud nor soft, was perfectly clear for both of us to hear. “You’ve got a scar on your lower abdomen. Have you had an abortion before?” Her words were like a bomb dropping in the small ultrasound room. Before I could even react, Arthur was already looking at me in shock, his eyes filled with disbelief. I knew what she was talking about. On my lower abdomen, there was indeed a very, very faint scar. That was from when I participated in a junior fencing tournament abroad as a teenager and accidentally got scratched by the blunt tip of an opponent’s foil. The wound wasn’t deep, but it left a light pink mark. I had mentioned it to Arthur in passing, but he probably forgot. Or rather, presented with the “authoritative interpretation” of an OB/GYN, he was more willing to believe the latter. My heart ran cold. I opened my mouth to explain, but Dr. Davis gave me no chance. The wand in her hand continued moving downward, her movements rough. The discomfort made me want to flee the examination table immediately. Her voice sounded again, even more acerbic and vicious than before. “Oh, your cervix also shows signs of severe inflammation. Tsk tsk, sister, is your private life a mess?” The words “severe inflammation” felt like a bucket of dirty water thrown right in my face. Arthur’s face had gone from shocked to bewildered. He looked at me, then at Dr. Davis, his lips moving, but not knowing what to say. After all, facing him was a “professional” doctor. And I was just a patient she had “diagnosed” with problems. Dr. Davis seemed very satisfied with Arthur’s reaction. She glanced at me contemptuously, as if admiring her own masterpiece. The movement of her hand finally stopped, but her mouth didn’t. “Looking at your age, you’re still so tight. You must have spent a lot of effort, huh? “You’ve probably even had reconstructive surgery to fake your virginity. “What a pity. You can fool a man, but you can’t fool my eyes.” Three rapid-fire strikes, each one lethal. These three accusations were enough to destroy any woman’s reputation and marriage. “Doctor.” Arthur spoke with difficulty, his voice dry. “Are you… are you sure you didn’t make a mistake? Chloe isn’t that kind of person…” Dr. Davis finally removed the wand from my body and slowly, deliberately wiped her hands with a paper towel. Then, she turned around, no longer looking at me, but looking completely, condescendingly at Arthur. She took off her glasses, revealing eyes filled with resentment. “Arthur, long time no see. You’ve really moved up in the world, haven’t you?” Her voice was dripping with bitterness. “You couldn’t get me, so you got desperate and picked up this ‘used goods’ that who knows how many men have run through? “Look at her, head to toe in designer brands. Now that you have money, you know how to deck out your new catch in gold and silver? “Did you forget when we were together, we couldn’t even afford a decent dinner at a nice restaurant? “I truly feel sorry for myself. How could I have ever fallen for a heartless thing like you!” By the end, she even had a hint of a sob in her voice, As if she were the deeply devoted, wronged victim. 03 And I, the “used goods” she was verbally attacking with such venom… Just sat up quietly and slowly, methodically adjusted my clothes. So that was it. It all made sense now. This Dr. Sarah Davis was Arthur’s ex-girlfriend. A bitter ex who, thinking her former boyfriend had struck it rich, couldn’t handle the jealousy and ran over to sow discord and try to ruin our marriage. Every word she said implied that Arthur had money now and had forgotten his old love. Unfortunately, she got one fundamental fact wrong. In our family, the one with the money was me. Arthur was just a man I had chosen, a guy with great “soft and hard skills” who was willing to marry into my lifestyle and take care of me at home. Watching Dr. Davis pouring her heart out to Arthur, Painting herself as a woman hurt by love who couldn’t bear to see her ex-boyfriend deceived, And Arthur… The man I always thought was honest and grounded… Was currently looking at her with a face full of guilt, an expression that said “I’m sorry you suffered.” My heart sank even further. I spoke up, shattering the tragic “rekindled romance” atmosphere between the two of them. “Dr. Davis, are you done?” Dr. Davis froze for a second, probably not expecting me to still be so calm. She glared at me fiercely: “A dirty woman like you has no right to speak!” Recklessly slandering a patient—is this her professional ethics as a doctor? I was just about to question her, but Arthur hurriedly cut me off. “Never mind, never mind, honey. Dr. Davis is just doing her job. Let’s not make a fuss.” I looked at him in astonishment, Wondering if he even knew who his wife actually was. Seeing this, Dr. Davis, thinking I really listened to Arthur’s every word, raised her chin even more smugly. “A gold digger like you who relies on men for everything should keep your mouth shut. Careful, or I’ll expose your messy private life and make sure you can’t hook a single one.” I looked at Arthur. His face wasn’t looking good, but his gaze was fixed on the ultrasound machine. It was obvious that his resentment was clearly born out of suspicion towards me, Not directed at Dr. Davis. But that scar on my stomach was so thin and shallow, Let alone giving birth, a Barbie doll couldn’t even fit through it. Moreover, the term “severe inflammation” for what she described had long been phased out by the medical community. It’s now called “cervical ectropion,” which is a perfectly normal physiological phenomenon and has absolutely nothing to do with one’s private life. Did Dr. Davis, this “expert,” not even know this basic common knowledge? I couldn’t help but wave my phone, the screen still lit up, and let out a mocking laugh. “Dr. Davis, the ‘diagnosis’ you just gave me… I recorded it all right here. “Fabricating facts, malicious slander, destroying someone’s reputation, and using your position to humiliate a patient. “Aren’t you afraid of being reported?” Hearing this, before Dr. Davis could even react, Arthur panicked first. He fake-scolded Dr. Davis: “Stop trying to cause trouble! I believe in my wife’s character.” Then he grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me outside. “Chloe, let’s go. This hospital is no good. We’ll find another one!” But his nervous demeanor wasn’t to protect me at all; it was to prevent Dr. Davis from getting reported. Because the hand gripping my wrist had absolutely no gentleness; he was pulling me so hard it hurt. And behind me, Dr. Davis was still provoking me. “You have a scar on your stomach. As a doctor, what’s wrong with raising reasonable suspicions? “Your cervix isn’t healthy either, that’s a fact. Why can’t I say it? “The hospital director is my uncle. Report me? Go ahead! “Let’s see if the rumors about you spread faster, or if my disciplinary action comes down first.” I wanted to turn back and continue arguing with her, but Arthur didn’t give me the chance. He practically dragged me all the way to the parking lot. 04 It wasn’t until we sat in the car that Arthur finally noticed my bright red wrist and ashen face. He spoke guiltily, a hint of cautious fawning in his voice. “Chloe, are you okay! “I’m so sorry. I was so afraid you’d get bullied, I didn’t notice for a second. “Sarah… she just has that awful temper. She speaks without thinking. I apologize on her behalf.” I watched him quietly, scrutinizing this man from head to toe. His inner ugliness was showing on his face. He looked uglier. When he thought I was going to throw a tantrum, I just quietly buckled my seatbelt and smoothed my hair in the rearview mirror. The woman in the mirror still looked the same. He truly was becoming less and less worthy of me. “Apologize? Why apologize? Didn’t you say it yourself? Dr. Davis was just doing her job.” I turned my head and looked at him, my gaze as clear and open as a spring. “Arthur, I’m not angry.” After all, I never liked venting emotions instead of solving problems. But the more I said this, the worse Arthur’s expression became, and the more anxious and uneasy he felt. “Chloe, don’t be like this…” He tried to explain: “I was in a rush to pull you away because I wanted to look at the big picture. I didn’t want to make an ugly scene at the hospital. “You know me, I’m just… I’m just not good at handling conflict. “Besides, I couldn’t possibly doubt you just because someone else said a few words. Don’t you even have that much confidence in yourself?” “I know.” I nodded understandingly, as if completely convinced by him. “You’re just too honest and grounded, always trying to keep the peace. It’s okay, I understand.” He opened his mouth, but realized that any explanation would seem pale and powerless in front of me. Ultimately, he could only dejectedly start the car. 05 From that day on, everything between us changed. He would only get into bed after I fell asleep, and quietly leave before I woke up. The nights that used to be filled with endless conversation were now filled with a dead silence. I noticed all of this, but I said nothing, and was even too lazy to argue with him. When a man starts doubting you, every word you say can become new “evidence” in his eyes. Explaining only becomes covering up. I still wore exquisite makeup, dressed appropriately, and went out with a bright smile every day. Only, when he was showering, I would lock the study door and calmly consult the best divorce lawyers online. I had to admit, although Dr. Davis’s tactics were clumsy, they were indeed effective. She understood Arthur too well, understood the inferiority and paranoia in his bones. She started quietly sowing seeds in our shared social circle. First, it was Arthur’s best friend Mark’s wife, who asked me indirectly on WhatsApp: [Chloe, is Arthur under a lot of pressure lately?] [I noticed he closed his Instagram. Did you guys… have a fight?] Next, when I went to a college reunion with him, a female classmate seemingly casually pulled me aside and said: “Chloe, you’re so lucky. Arthur is so good to you. “But you know men, sometimes they still need a little extra attention. Especially… things like ex-girlfriends can easily make their minds wander.” I felt their strange gazes on me, a mix of sympathy, pity, and a barely noticeable hint of disdain. They looked at me as if looking at a woman using a glamorous exterior to hide a sordid interior. One evening, I finished my work early and went home. I quietly opened the front door, only to hear him on the balcony, talking on the phone. His voice was very low, but loud enough for me to hear clearly. On the other end of the line was Mark’s loud, boisterous voice. “Arthur, I’m telling you, you’re just too soft-hearted! What are you keeping a woman like that around for? “Sarah told me everything. The ultrasound showed it all! It’s a mess! You better wise up!” My footsteps stopped. I leaned against the doorframe, listening quietly. Arthur sighed, his voice full of exhaustion and grievance. “I… I don’t know what to do either. “After all, she’s the daughter of a rich family. It’s normal for them to play around. “Last time… last time I even saw a bottle of Vagisil in the bathroom. “Tell me, if she wasn’t messing around outside, why would she suddenly get a feminine infection?” Vagisil? I almost laughed out loud. That was something I bought at the pharmacy for daily cleansing a while ago when I was feeling a bit uncomfortable during my period. I didn’t expect this to also become evidence of his guilt against me. Truly, if you want to condemn someone, you can always trump up a charge. Mark’s voice grew louder, filled with the righteous indignation of a brother. “Fuck! Seriously? Isn’t that just an STD?! “Arthur, listen to me. You absolutely cannot keep a woman like this! So what if she has money? She’s dirty! “Hurry up and divorce her! Get a lawyer and make her leave with nothing! “Get all her money into your hands, and then we’ll find a clean, good girl! We all support you!” Then, I heard him agree with absolute certainty: “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve suspected she had someone on the side for a long time, otherwise why would she always refuse to be intimate with me. “Okay, I know what to do.”