Category: English

One day, after returning home early from a business trip, I overheard my seven-year-old daughter say something to my wife. “Mom! I really like Daddy Jonathan! Can I go out with him again?” I stood frozen at the doorway, hearing my wife, who was always so cold to me, respond with a smile to our daughter. “Of course, sweetie! He’s your real father, after all. As long as you like him, that’s all that matters.” My name is Micah Miller, and Jonathan Reed… he’s my wife’s first love. I secretly did a paternity test, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. I couldn’t accept it… The daughter I’ve raised for seven years isn’t mine? It was a devastating blow to me. I smoked cigarette after cigarette, filling the entire office with a thick, suffocating cloud. It wasn’t until my assistant, Megan Carter, came in that I realized I needed to put it out. She asked, “Mr. Miller, are you okay today?” I forced a grim smile and shook my head, asking her what was on her mind. She placed a stack of files on my desk. “The project you’ve been working on has come through. It just needs your signature.” “Alright, leave it there.” I nodded. She hesitated, seeing how distracted I was, but then she turned and left without saying anything. I lit another cigarette, watching the smoke swirl around as it blurred my vision. It eventually settled on the paternity test that had been lying on my desk for days. I stared at it, lost in thought, for what felt like forever. I only snapped out of it when the cigarette burned down and singed my hand. With a deep breath, I slowly opened the envelope. It was something I had to face sooner or later. What was there to be afraid of? The result was clear: the daughter I had adored for seven years had no biological connection to me. “…” Strangely, when I saw the result, it felt like a huge weight had finally been lifted off my chest. I wasn’t upset or anxious anymore, but… oddly calm. In hindsight, I should’ve suspected something was off long ago. Seven years ago, I was still pursuing Samantha Bennett, but she didn’t show much interest in me. In fact, she seemed to dislike me. Then, out of the blue, she asked me out for dinner one night, got me drunk, and things naturally progressed from there. I didn’t use protection that night. She said it was fine, that she was in her safe period. The next few times we met, she didn’t ask me to use protection either. After that, her attitude toward me became softer. At least, she acknowledged I was her boyfriend. Not long after, she dropped a bombshell: she was pregnant and wanted to keep the baby. When she gave birth, it was a rough delivery. She nearly bled out. If it weren’t for the doctors’ quick thinking, both she and the baby might not have survived. I didn’t want her to ever go through that kind of pain again, so I got a vasectomy. Having one daughter was enough for me. Looking back now, I can’t believe how naive I was. I never questioned her for a second! Samantha knew who the baby’s father was from the start, which is why she had no problem with me not using protection. I had been played for a fool—just a convenient option to raise someone else’s kid. The child I’ve loved for seven years wasn’t mine at all. She was Jonathan Reed’s. What a joke! If I hadn’t come home early from that business trip, I might have never found out that I was raising another man’s child. Thank God for my daughter’s innocent honesty. If she hadn’t blurted it out, Samantha would’ve kept it hidden forever. Honestly, I wish I hadn’t found out. I wish she had kept this from me for life because now… everything has changed. Our marriage, which had seemed like a free-spirited romance, wasn’t simple at all. There were deeper, more complicated motives behind it. 2 Samantha’s and my family backgrounds weren’t all that different. Both of our families ran businesses. When I first pursued her, it wasn’t for her family’s money; my family wasn’t any worse off than hers. But over time, our families became business rivals. My father thought that marrying Samantha could help form an alliance between our companies. It was convenient because I’d already been pursuing her for quite a while. At the time, I didn’t know that our relationship would become so transactional. It wasn’t until she was pregnant, and I visited her family, that I realized there was more going on behind the scenes. Both of our parents laughed it off, saying, “What a coincidence! Business rivals on the surface, but in private, we’re becoming family!” Looking back, it’s ridiculous. Samantha and her family were using me. In fact, I’m certain this wasn’t a coincidence at all. It was a calculated move from the start. I had known for a long time that Samantha didn’t really like me. After we got married, she was cold and distant. But I convinced myself that the child was mine. I thought I had to take responsibility and make sure I didn’t let her down. I believed that if I was sincere enough, eventually, I would win her heart. I thought that over time, she’d feel the same love she had shown me in the beginning, when she seduced me so easily. But now, all my sincerity and good intentions feel like a joke. I’m the clown in this story. Lily, my daughter, seemed to know the truth all along. She knew she had another father… Could it be that whenever I left on business trips, the father she thought about wasn’t me? Samantha has been watching from the sidelines all these years, letting me run in circles, fooled by their lies. I must look ridiculous in her eyes—a perfect, unsuspecting fool. Haha. I don’t even know how to describe my feelings right now. I just know I’m strangely calm. Ding. A text message came through. It was from Samantha, which was rare. She hardly ever reached out to me first. “I heard you’ve been back from your trip for a few days? Why haven’t you come home? Lily’s been crying for you, saying she misses her daddy!” I let out a bitter chuckle, shaking my head. Crying for me? Or is she crying for the other dad? How can you, as her mother, not know which one she means? I’ve been home for a week now, but they didn’t seem to notice. The first message I get is today. I had planned to surprise them with my return, but instead, they’re the ones who surprised me—no, shocked me. I needed some time alone to cool off. Otherwise, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about all of this. No man could stay calm after discovering something like this, pretending nothing had happened. I didn’t want to blow up in front of Lily. No matter what… she’s still an innocent child. So, I didn’t go home. I didn’t tell anyone. I stayed at the office, with Megan bringing me meals. I scrolled back through my messages, seeing the one I sent her that night after I found out the truth. I’d told her I’d landed a big project and would be busy for a while… and she hadn’t responded. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed it. Or maybe, like always, she just didn’t care what I had to say. I put down my phone and lit another cigarette. The ashtray on my desk was already filled to the brim with stubs. “Whoosh—” I exhaled a cloud of smoke, leaning back in my chair as I stared at the fading swirls. Exhaustion washed over me. What did I do wrong? Why would she do this to me? Was I trying to warm up a heart that couldn’t be warmed? Or… was I the one who was wrong from the start? Maybe it would’ve been better to remain in the dark. 3 I didn’t reply to Samantha’s text. She never had much patience with me, so it didn’t take long for her to call. Her voice was sharp and demanding right from the start. “Micah! What are you doing? Why aren’t you answering my texts?” “Oh, sorry. I’ve been busy at work…” I didn’t even finish before she cut me off, her voice dripping with impatience. “Work, work, work! Is that all you care about? Don’t you know you have a family? Don’t you realize your daughter needs you?” “…” I stayed silent, my mind buzzing. I wanted to ask her so badly: And you, Samantha? Don’t you know you have a husband? Does he know that his daughter isn’t even his? Does he know you’ve been lying to him all these years? The words stuck in my throat, and my eyes fell on the family photo on my desk—Lily’s bright, innocent smile staring back at me. I swallowed my anger. “She’s sick. Pick up some of her favorite snacks and bring them to the hospital,” she said coldly before hanging up. I stood there, listening to the dial tone with a bitter smile. Funny. Why didn’t she call the other dad for this? I could easily guess what had happened. Lily probably wore herself out playing too much, and now it was up to me to clean up the mess. I saw the location Samantha sent me, and as much as it filled me with humiliation and anger, I couldn’t bear to think of Lily looking so small and sick. Seven years. Seven years of loving this child. How could I not care about her? So I sighed, put on my coat, and went to buy her favorite snacks before heading to the hospital. When I got to the hospital room, I heard Lily’s voice through the door, clear as day: “Daddy Jonathan, look! I was so brave! I didn’t even cry when they gave me the shot. Wasn’t I the best?” Through the small glass window on the door, I saw him—Jonathan Reed, wearing a doctor’s coat, smiling at Lily. “Yes, you were so brave! Just like my little girl should be,” he said, ruffling her hair as she giggled. Beside them, Samantha’s face was soft, warm, and full of affection. In the seven years we’ve been married, I’ve never seen her look at me like that. My heart clenched. That man in the doctor’s coat—Jonathan Reed—was her first love. And now, as if life was mocking me, he was Lily’s real father. Watching their happy little family from the hallway, I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of isolation. It was as if they were a family of three, and I… was just the outsider. No, scratch that. They are a family. Lily is their daughter. And I? I’m just the outsider. The joke. It felt like a weight was crushing my chest. I could barely breathe. Why did this hurt so much? I rushed here, bought her favorite snacks, thinking she needed me, only to find out the real reason they wanted me here was because Jonathan was the doctor on call. Lily got to see her biological dad, and Samantha got to be with the man she truly loved. And me? I’m nothing more than a joke. The biggest fool in the world. 4 It felt like a green light was flashing over me, head to toe, branding me as the fool. I stood frozen in place. I couldn’t move. It wasn’t until Jonathan noticed me standing outside that he adjusted his glasses and said, “Micah?” The moment my name left his lips, Samantha’s warm smile disappeared, replaced by her usual coldness. She didn’t even try to hide her contempt for me. “You’re finally here! Took you long enough! Lily hasn’t eaten a thing since she got sick. Are you trying to starve her?” Of course. The familiar tone. That suffocating pressure she always brings. It made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry, Lily. Daddy’s late, but I brought you your favorite…” I forced a smile as I spoke to my daughter. Before I could even finish, Samantha cut me off again, her voice sharp. “What’s the point of showing up now? Dr. Reed already brought her food. You’re always too busy to be there for your own daughter, and it’s always left to someone else to take care of her!” Lily, always so “understanding,” added, “Thanks, Daddy! But Dr. Reed says I can’t have dessert after meals, haha.” I stared at her, the same little girl I’d loved for seven years, and felt a strange, bitter taste in my mouth. She probably thought she was being so considerate. But I couldn’t help it… For the first time, I felt a sense of unfamiliarity and… disgust toward the child I’d raised. It was as if she wasn’t mine anymore. And that “Dr. Reed”—just minutes ago, wasn’t she calling him “Daddy Jonathan”? She had grown up. She knew not to call him “Daddy” in front of me anymore, playing along with the lies Samantha had spun all these years. What a good daughter, huh? “So, Daddy waited in line for a long time to buy your favorite snacks. You don’t want them?” I held out the bag, but my expression was slipping. Lily hesitated. After all, they were her favorite treats. “Leave them. Lily didn’t eat much. She can have them as a snack later,” Jonathan said, always the rational doctor. Lily’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hands. “Yay! I get to have them later!” “No!” Samantha scolded from the side, her voice sharp. “You’ve already had dinner! No more snacks, especially after you’ve brushed your teeth. You don’t want to get cavities, do you? Be good and listen to Mommy.” She called me to buy the snacks, but now she’s the one making the rules. I was holding back my frustration, not wanting to lose my temper in front of Lily. “It’s fine. She’s still sick. She needs the sugar for energy. Besides, she’s growing. She could use the extra calories,” Jonathan chimed in, making it all seem so reasonable. Lily looked up at Samantha with those puppy eyes, silently pleading. “See, Mommy? Dr. Reed said it’s okay!” “Alright, just this once,” Samantha finally relented, and Lily cheered happily. “You spoil her too much,” she said to Jonathan, her tone warm and affectionate. “…” I stood there, feeling out of place, as if they had forgotten I existed. The room wasn’t that big. Four people could fit in it, but in their eyes, there were only three of them. I was nothing more than a ghost.

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I had a stomach ache and went to St. Thomas’ Hospital alone for an IV drip. While I was there, I caught my boyfriend, Alexander, tending to his first love, Isabella. He was feeding her the chicken soup I had made myself, spooning it into her mouth one bite at a time. In that moment, I recalled a conversation he’d had with his friend James. “Alexander, what do you like about Scarlett?” “She’s easy to coax and deceive.” In the hospital ward, Alexander lowered his eyes, blew gently on the spoon, and handed it over. “Have another bite,” he said. Isabella’s pale face flushed slightly as she obediently opened her mouth. I stood at the door, watching this scene unfold, my heart aching as if it were being pierced by a knife. Just last night, Alexander had suddenly expressed a craving for chicken soup. I woke up early this morning, went to Borough Market, then spent hours simmering the soup on the stove. At noon, I proudly carried the thermos to his office in the City of London. To my shock, I was merely playing the role of someone else’s caregiver. “Your girlfriend is quite the homemaker,” Isabella remarked, a hint of mockery in her voice as she smirked. “Yeah. What would you like to eat tomorrow?” Alexander replied, his expression as indifferent as ever. He set down the bowl and casually pulled out a tissue to wipe the corner of Isabella’s mouth. “Eat you,” Isabella teased. “Stop joking,” Alexander said with a nonchalant tone. His indifference only made Isabella laugh harder. My throat tightened, and I found it hard to breathe. The haze in front of my eyes thickened. When my vision finally cleared, I realized I was making eye contact with them. A flash of surprise crossed Alexander’s face, followed by a frown. “So you’re Scarlett? You’re quite pretty, and your cooking skills are impressive too,” Isabella said, her innocent smile belied by her scrutinizing gaze. She wore a rose gold necklace that was both beautiful and painfully striking to me. Suddenly, I felt a rush of blood to my head, and my stomach began to ache again. I forced myself to respond, “I don’t deserve the compliment. I’m just young.” Isabella’s smile faltered. Alexander’s frown deepened as he noticed the white tape on my right hand, hesitating for a moment. “Do you need me to take you back?” he asked. It was already quite late. The fact that he asked meant he didn’t genuinely want to. I forced a smile. “Yes.” Alexander paused, glancing at Isabella, who was clinging to his sleeve, then back at me. But he didn’t move. My heart grew even heavier. I shook my head and turned to leave. He didn’t follow. In a daze, I recalled the harassing phone call I received a few days ago. “Alexander’s girlfriend? You? He loved me so deeply back then. No one can replace me. Just wait and see!” The caller didn’t give me a chance to respond before hanging up, leaving me feeling taunted. Lost in thought, I received a multimedia message. It was a selfie. She was strikingly beautiful—bold and flamboyant. I was baffled. What was wrong with this person? At that moment, Alexander was beside me. I showed him my phone. “She’s Isabella, your first love, right?” Alexander quickly glanced at the image, nodded, and deleted the message. “Scarlett, she’s mentally unstable due to some trauma. Just ignore her,” he said. I wasn’t angry; I just thought it was childish and ridiculous. I pressed on, “Did she contact you?” He didn’t deny it, simply replying coldly, “Annoying.” At that moment, I realized the childish and ridiculous one was me. And I was the one being annoyed. Suddenly, all the details I had previously overlooked came flooding back like a tidal wave. Alexander had been working late frequently, sometimes not coming home at all. He would go out to the balcony to take calls, lowering his voice, and the conversations would stretch on for a long time. I had found a receipt for an expensive ladies’ necklace in his suit pocket, which he claimed was for a client. … And I had never suspected a thing. When we first got together, I had accidentally overheard a conversation between him and James. “What do you like about Scarlett?” “As long as I can coax and deceive her.” Later, Alexander casually dismissed it as a joke. He navigated this relationship with such ease, controlling me perfectly with just a few words. In reality, the signs had always been there. I had just been too naive and self-righteous to see them. After three years of dating, I, like a small stove providing warmth in the snow, couldn’t compete with the moonlight that enhanced his life. 2 The first time I met Alexander was quite remarkable. After graduating from university, I had a big argument with my family over work and decided to move out to rent a cheap old house. It was late after my farewell dinner. When I returned, I found a drunk man sprawled in the hallway of the London residence. He had thin lips, a high nose, and slightly flushed cheeks. His long eyelashes cast shadows across his face. He looked quiet and haggard, evoking a sense of sympathy. I carefully patted him on the shoulder. He opened his eyes, and the bright lights of the hallway reflected in his dark gaze like a full moon. “Sorry to scare you,” he said, his hoarse voice somehow more charming in the stillness of the night. He stood up, irritably tugging at his tie, then turned to open the door. I instinctively said, “It’s okay. You should drink less in the future; it’s not good for your health.” The sound of the key turning in the lock paused. He turned back, squinting at me, his expression inscrutable. After a moment of silence, he replied, “Yeah.” “Um, well… I’m Scarlett, and I live opposite you.” “Alexander.” The sound insulation in the hallway was poor, and I could hear every time Alexander opened or closed his door. Gradually, I figured out his routine. He usually left at seven in the morning, and his return time was unpredictable, often late at night. But no matter when he came home, I always prepared a cup of honey water and waited for him. “Why are you waiting for me?” he asked one day. That time, Alexander didn’t take the cup. He stood in front of me, looking down from above. My cheeks flushed, and my breathing became unsteady. “Because I like you.” “Why?” “…I don’t know.” Alexander tilted his head, and his deep black eyes sparkled slightly. His voice was hesitant. “I didn’t drink tonight. Go back to your room. Don’t stay up late.” At first, I didn’t understand if this was a rejection or an acceptance. I looked up and asked quietly, “What about you?” Alexander raised an eyebrow, looked at me meaningfully, and flashed a mischievous smile. “Of course, I’ll go back to my own room.” I suddenly woke up and stammered in my explanation, “No! I meant you… you’re staying up late as well…” “I’ll make an effort to come back earlier in the days to come.” His tone was nonchalant, yet it still managed to stir ripples within my heart. Not long after that, Alexander moved away. He gave me the address of his new place – Alexander’s Flat in London, along with a spare key. Whenever I had no painting orders, I would head over to his place to tidy up the house, do the laundry, and cook for him. Charlotte got wind of it and was exasperated. “I’ve never seen anyone like you, so eager to be a free maid! What on earth do you like about Alexander? Is it because he’s good – looking?” I’d never contemplated this question before. I simply felt that every single moment I spent with Alexander was filled with joy. His responses to my messages evolved from “Yeah” to “Okay”, and the way he addressed me shifted from “You” to “Scarlett”. When he returned from a business trip, he’d bring me little presents. On weekends when he wasn’t occupied, he’d take me out for a meal. And from time to time, he’d remind me to take my stomach medicine… Whenever I thought about how Alexander was gradually changing for me, my heart would brim with happiness, making me believe that all the efforts were worthwhile. Finally, on Valentine’s Day, Alexander came to me carrying a bouquet of roses. The moonlight shone into his eyes, making it difficult to decipher his original emotions. “Scarlett, be my girlfriend.” “Okay.” Later, I discovered that on that very day, Isabella had announced her engagement in a high – profile manner. She’s Alexander’s first love, and they used to have a great relationship. But later, Alexander’s father’s company nearly went bankrupt, and Isabella also proposed to break up, seamlessly getting together with a rich second – generation heir. Then, when Alexander was at his lowest ebb, he met me. He once said that I was his winter stove, warm and cozy. But a woman’s intuition is a strange thing. I couldn’t help but wonder if Alexander’s acceptance of me had something to do with Isabella. Once this thought emerged, it grew stronger and stronger, refusing to go away… I plucked up the courage and asked casually, looking him in the eye. I looked up, choosing my words carefully before asking, “Why did you suddenly accept me?” His eyes were dark and inscrutable. “Because I like you.” “The past is in the past. Scarlett, you are my present and my future.” I engraved these words deep in my mind. 3 As soon as I entered the house, my phone rang. “Did you get home?” “Yeah.” “Why didn’t you tell me your stomach hurt?” “Would you have cared if I had?” There was a momentary silence on the other end of the phone. I could hear Alexander’s deep and slightly ragged breathing. “Scarlett, Isabella slit her wrists and attempted suicide. Fortunately, she was found in time. Although she’s out of danger, she’s still very weak.” So what? Just because I’m stronger than her, should I be her maid and give up my boyfriend? However, there was an even more crucial question. “Who found her in time?” Alexander was silent for a moment, then he gave an answer that didn’t really address the issue: “Her parents passed away and she was cheated on. Her mental state has become abnormal. After all, we’ve known each other for so many years. I just can’t help but worry about her.” My heart suddenly lurched, and my nose stung. Sure enough, only those who cry get the comfort. “Alexander, your girlfriend went home alone in the middle of the night. Aren’t you worried about her?” “Are you worried about her or still in love with her?” There was silence on the other end. I tried my best to steady my emotions, but my voice still quivered slightly. “I’m not the clingy type. If you—” “Wait for me to come home.” Alexander interrupted me and hung up the phone straight away. It would take him about half an hour to drive back. I curled up on the couch in the dark, with no lights on. All I could hear in the darkness was the ticking of the clock hands. Half an hour… One hour… Two hours passed… Before I knew it, I sat there until dawn. Alexander returned at six in the morning. “Why are you up so early?” He looked tired. He casually tossed his coat aside, leaned back on the couch, closed his eyes to rest, with no intention of explaining at all. Suddenly, Alexander opened his eyes and looked at me with a hint of surprise. “You didn’t sleep all night, did you?” I remained silent.

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James Wilson: “Harper, just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean all women can’t.” “I’m a normal man, I need to continue my family line.” “If you want children, we could adopt one…” I continued to reason patiently. “I want my own, my flesh and blood child who can carry on my lineage. Don’t you understand?” James shouted, “You don’t understand because you don’t even have that function!” I: “But you are…” Infertile! You can’t have children at all! I swallowed the second half of the sentence silently, then secretly slipped the lottery ticket back into my pocket… I returned home after a three-day business trip, having won a billion-dollar lottery. To my shock, my husband, James Wilson, who I thought was infertile, handed me divorce papers. His reason? The woman he’d been keeping on the side was pregnant?! I stared at James, who was acting like he was ready to die for love, while my emotions churned inside. “What do you mean by this?” I asked. “I’m sorry, Harper. I know this is cruel to you, butEloise is pregnant. I need to give her and the child legitimacy. It’s a man’s responsibility.” “You’re cheating on me withEloise Thompson?” I couldn’t believe it. “Yes…Eloise understands me. She knows how much I’ve always wanted a child of my own.” Well, talk about the betrayal of the century. My most trusted husband had gotten together with the protégée I had personally mentored. These two really outdid themselves in betraying me! I massaged my temples, forcing myself to stay calm. James and I had been married for 8 years. Although we didn’t have children, our relationship had always been good. So I decided to give him one last chance: “Are you sure the child inEloise’s belly is yours?” To my surprise, James frowned and started mocking me: “Harper, just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean all women can’t.” “I’m a normal man, I need to have an heir. Do you know how I feel every day seeing my colleagues and friends posting pictures of their cute little kids on social media?” “If you want a child, we could adopt one…” I continued to reason with him patiently. “I want my own, my flesh and blood, a child who can carry on my lineage. Don’t you understand?” James shouted, “You don’t understand because you don’t even have that function!” The James in front of me seemed like a completely different person. He pushed all the blame onto me, as if that would ease his conscience somewhat. But he didn’t know that he was the one who couldn’t possibly get a woman pregnant! During our premarital health check, James was diagnosed with severe male infertility. To protect his male pride, I voluntarily took the blame for our inability to conceive. What did he say back then? He said, “Harper, I love you for who you are. Nothing else matters. If you can’t have children, we can be childless for life, as long as you’re by my side.” And now? Not only did he have an affair withEloise, my own protégée, but he was also pushing all the responsibility onto my supposed “infertility”. It was both pathetic and laughable. Seeing his resolute attitude, my heart turned cold. I didn’t want this scumbag anymore, but I also wouldn’t let him and his mistress off easy! I didn’t tell James about his infertility. Because now, two things were more important to me. First, to kick James out of this house as soon as possible. Second, to secure as much of our assets as I could. My marriage had been enough of a failure; I couldn’t afford to lose money on top of it! James saw my silence and continued his sarcasm: “If it weren’t for your inability to have children, which man would willingly choose to be childless? You have to divorce me today, whether you like it or not…” Seeing James’s self-righteous attitude, my stomach churned with disgust. How did I ever fall for such a piece of work! I said firmly: “Fine! I’ll divorce you right now! Let’s go to the registry office immediately!” Afraid I might change my mind, James quickly handed me the divorce agreement to sign. I skimmed through it and rolled my eyes. This cheating scumbag had betrayed our marriage and yet still wanted to split our assets 50-50? “James Wilson, you cheated and betrayed our marriage. You should leave with nothing!” “Harper, I’m about to remarry and have a child to support. Can’t you be a little more generous?” “James, I’ve already compromised emotionally by letting you give her legitimacy. Do you want me to compromise on property division too?” I coldly smiled, “Besides, are you sureEloise is really pregnant?” “Harper, just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean you can curse me. I’ve accompaniedEloise to three prenatal check-ups. Do you think I wouldn’t know if the pregnancy was real or fake?!” This idiot! He didn’t even realize he was being played. And he thought he wasn’t stupid? But I couldn’t be bothered to enlighten him. Anyway, I wouldn’t budge on the property matters! I threatened him: “If you don’t want to divorce, that’s fine too. Just letEloise have her ‘love child’. After all, it won’t be me who gets pointed at and gossiped about.” “…Harper, are you trying to force me?” After a moment of silence, James suddenly stood up, rushed into the kitchen, and came out with a fruit knife! I thought James was going to hurt me, but he put the knife to his own throat instead. “Harper, I’m begging you, please have some compassion and let me go! I’m a man, I can’t be without an heir!” “Besides, I really need money right now.Eloise said she’d only agree to marry me and have the baby if I transfer at least one house and a car to her name. And I’ll have to cover all the childbirth expenses later! Please don’t push me!” James looked ready to go down with the ship, which made my blood boil. You want money? Fine! After all, money is the last thing I’m short of right now. I want to see his face when he realizes the child isn’t his, and he’s missed out on my billion-dollar lottery win! In the end, James and I split our assets 60-40. Of course, 60 for me and 40 for him! After completing the divorce procedures, we had just left the registry office whenEloise came up, holding her belly. This homewrecker had interned at my company when she was in college. As her mentor, I had guided her for two whole years. After she graduated and joined the company full-time, I continued to look after her. I never imagined I was personally nurturing an ungrateful viper. Emma stood there demurely, fear in her eyes when she looked at me, but mostly unable to hide her smugness. She must be laughing coldly inside. She probably doesn’t know about James’s infertility problem yet, right? But I didn’t plan to expose this bombshell just yet. The divorce cooling-off period hadn’t passed, and I needed to make more preparations. However, I should give this pair of cheaters a little “gift” to mess with them. That shouldn’t be too much, right? Seeing me looking at her,Eloise immediately put on a startled expression and nestled into James’s arms. James glared at me and then huggedEloise’s shoulders, carefully comforting her: “Don’t be afraid, I’ve divorced her. Once the cooling-off period is over, we’ll go get our marriage certificate.” Emma nodded like a dependent little bird, just like an innocent white rabbit. I laughed coldly from a distance, walked up to the illicit couple in my high heels, and looked down atEloise before turning to James. “James, did you knowEloise and I went to the same university?” “Harper, what are you getting at?” James frowned. “Nothing much, just that I heard by her sophomore year, she had already earned the reputation of being the ‘campus bicycle’. I’m not sure which of you is more second-hand in this relationship.” James’s body stiffened. Emma’s face turned pale instantly: “James, I didn’t…” “Of course you didn’t, I believe you.” James pattedEloise’s hand, comforting her gently. Then he turned to me and said: “Harper, can’t you be a little kinder?Eloise is carrying my child. You just accused her of faking the pregnancy, and now you’re implying the child isn’t mine…” “Harper, I know you resent me and blame me, but there’s no need to slander her!Eloise and I only care about the present, not the past. I absolutely trust her!” I didn’t say anything more, just looked at him with a mocking smile. I knew James wouldn’t believe me, but he was a traditional man. The “campus bicycle” thing would definitely disgust him for a long time. As I passed by the couple,Eloise reached out to stop me. “Harper, I know I’ve wronged you. You can say whatever you want about me, I shouldn’t talk back. But I really love James. He wants a child of his own, and I’m willing to give him one!” “Actually, I was planning to give the child to you and James after it was born, but James disagreed. He said that would be unfair to me, and the child… also needs its birth mother…” I coldly watched her act out this drama. Perhaps seeing that I remained silent,Eloise grew bolder: “Harper, please don’t be sad. We’re still family. My son will be your son too, and he’ll take care of you in your old age…” Take care of me in my old age? She’s already wishing for my death? Unable to standEloise’s fake performance any longer, I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. The crisp sound made the other two freeze for a moment. “Harper?! How dare you hit me?!” Emma cried while holding her face and tugging on James’s arm. James turned his head away, not defending her. “What’s wrong with hitting you? If you weren’t pregnant, I’d kick you too.” I waved the divorce agreement in my hand: “Don’t provoke me. I can still cancel the divorce during the cooling-off period. Don’t end up giving birth to a child without being married. Then you really might have to hand it over to me, the ‘stepmother’.”

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I never expected that after my sugar daddy went bankrupt, he would shamelessly move into my tiny 450 square foot apartment and demand that I support him instead. One night, he even boldly crawled into my bed after showering. I sat up in shock, pushing away that devastatingly handsome face, and tried to sound nonchalant as I said: “Let’s just sleep, okay? Nothing more.” His hot breath tickled my neck as he turned off the bedside lamp with one hand and untied my robe with the other, whispering: “Let’s do more than sleep. I’m up for anything. Besides, your personal trainer said you need more exercise.” (A story of a soft and vulnerable sugar baby vs a secretly scheming sugar daddy) “Is it hot in the car? Do you want to take off your clothes?” As he asked, the man glanced at my nervous expression in the rearview mirror and lowered the air conditioning temperature. “It’s fine, I’m not hot,” I said, biting my lip and clutching my coat tighter, grateful that the darkness could hide my flushed face. The car slowly drove up towards the villa on the hillside. It was the height of summer, and underneath my coat I was wearing a form-fitting cheongsam dress with a slit that revealed my pale thighs. I had just finished filming a Republican-era drama scene where I played a coquettish and manipulative concubine. I had to keep calling the male lead “my lord” over and over until the director finally yelled cut. My voice was hoarse from all the takes. You see, I’m a D-list actress who can only get bit parts playing villains. And the man driving me to his house now… He’s Alexander Blake, a former A-list actor renowned for his looks and talent, now working behind the scenes as a producer. Two hours ago, he had cornered me backstage after I finished filming, close enough that I could feel his breath. My heart raced – was this the casting couch moment I’d been waiting for? But he spoke without emotion: “I’m living alone here and feeling lonely. I’ll pay you this much per month to move into my villa. What do you say?” The amount he showed me was more than I’d ever seen, even in my wildest dreams. A rich CEO says he’s lonely and needs company. My first thought was that he wanted me as his mistress. I couldn’t do something so unethical, so I cautiously asked: “Are you… married?” “I’m single,” he replied. Hmm. I looked him up and down. This muscular man did seem to have strong hormones and needs. His long lashes lowered, seeming impatient. “Yes or no?” “I accept,” I said quickly. Even a second of hesitation would be disrespectful to such a lucrative offer. Rich, handsome, and muscular – who would refuse such a win-win deal? Inside the villa, Alexander emerged from the shower. His V-neck bathrobe revealed toned abs and defined pecs. Water droplets slid down his forehead, trailing lower. Looking up, that cold, forbidden face was breathtakingly beautiful. I had to close my eyes, it was too dazzling. Good lord, how did I get so lucky to be the sugar baby of such a perfect specimen? If I were a rich woman, I’d have no problem being his sugar mama! Alexander glanced at me expressionlessly and ordered me to go shower. “Make sure to wear the cheongsam hanging in the closet when you’re done.” “Got it, got it.” He seemed to really like women in cheongsams. That’s probably why he chose me today. No problem, I’ll do whatever he wants. When in Rome, right? The sky blue cheongsam hugged my curves in all the right places, oozing sensuality. I vaguely recalled wearing a similar style for a magazine shoot last year. He patted his leg, his tone coaxing. “Come here.” I obediently went over and sat on his lap, barefoot. The cheongsam he gave me fit like it was custom-made, perfectly conforming to my body. The style was quite risqué though. Short where it should be long, missing buttons where there should be buttons… Alexander admired me appreciatively for a while, then swept me up in his arms and carried me to the bed. For the next few hours, I wondered if he had chewed some kind of energy gum. He fully embodied that ad slogan about lasting all night. He gripped my ankles tightly, seeming to hold back anger as he thrust forcefully and said: “Call me ‘my lord’.” I had been covering my face in embarrassment, but hearing this made me confused. Was he getting into character? I could only play along and whimper softly like a mosquito: “My lord.” Alexander narrowed his eyes and scoffed coldly: “TessaBrown, no wonder you can’t get any good roles. Your acting is so amateurish. You were so enthusiastic calling that other guy ‘my lord’ on set earlier today.” I frowned, finding his words strange. But as a proper sugar baby, I summoned all my acting skills and called out in a coy, trembling voice: “My lord~” Unexpectedly, my breathy tone seemed to make him melt. Without another word, he flipped me over. Two hours later when I went to shower, my legs were still trembling. I couldn’t help looking at myself in the mirror. Porcelain skin, a delicate chin, red lips curved slightly upwards, adding a touch of allure to my otherwise sweet features. If I weren’t so desperate, I wouldn’t have resorted to making money this way.

As a drama school graduate, I had been struggling to make it in the entertainment industry on my own merits. Though I was a newcomer, my career had been on the rise. But I couldn’t escape the jealousy of my competitors. One “diva behavior” scandal, even though I was innocent, was enough to tank my reputation and career. Not only did I end up owing a ton in contract breach fees, I could barely afford my $200 monthly rent. Due to a performance clause I had signed with my agency early on, the penalty for failure was astronomical. If I couldn’t pay it off in time, I would go to jail. Alexander was like a godsend, solving my urgent money problems. I secretly rejoiced. To be honest, he was the reason I entered showbiz in the first place. He was my favorite actor. He once insisted on doing his own stunts and got badly injured in a wire accident, which forced him to retire from acting. I never imagined that one day we would become secret lovers like this. The next morning when I woke up, he was already gone. There was just a new message notification on my phone. “Breakfast is in the microwave. Heat it up yourself.” His profile picture was an unopened black umbrella, fitting his cold and aloof image. Though he was anything but cold and aloof on the inside. I shuffled to the kitchen in my slippers, lazily getting up to grab a cold soda from the fridge. Just as I entered the dining room, I ran into an elegant middle-aged woman. With a sandwich in my mouth and dishes in both hands, I didn’t even have time to adjust my loose pajamas to cover the hickeys on my neck. She smiled and said: “I rarely see Alexander smile, but he was this morning. So he finally brought a girl home.” I was so shocked I nearly choked on my soda. So this is… his mother? “I never thought my son liked to keep his girlfriends hidden away. If I hadn’t come to check on him, I would’ve thought he didn’t like girls at all.” The woman chatted with me for a while longer as I awkwardly tried to respond. Finally, she left me with a beautiful little Louis Vuitton suitcase, whispering as she left: “This suitcase is a welcome gift for you. What’s inside is for Alexander. Young people in love should still be careful, you know.” After she left, I nervously opened the suitcase to find box after box of condoms… Ugh, why do I have to experience both incredible luck and incredible embarrassment all at once?

A month later, it seemed my obedience and good behavior had moved my sugar daddy. Alexander specially picked out a script and got me a role – the third female lead. It was the best opportunity I’d had since entering the industry. I smiled and accepted this unearned fruit. After all, only I could put up with such a demanding and eccentric benefactor. As a D-list actress, my agent had abandoned me after my reputation tanked, leaving me to fend for myself and take whatever small jobs I could get. Before this, I was so broke I couldn’t even pay my electricity bill. I had to swallow my pride and film a cheesy commercial holding some sketchy male enhancement product, smiling awkwardly. People online savagely mocked me for “selling out.” But after joining this new production, I faced an even bigger challenge. According to the director’s shooting schedule, the very first scene we were filming was a kissing scene and… a love scene. When I heard the news, I was stunned. Starting off with something so risqué? “It’s just implied, darling. We need to hint at the passion without showing too much. Tessa dear, many starlets became famous overnight by doing nude scenes. This is just simulated, it’s nothing,” the middle-aged female director said, patting my shoulder reassuringly. I don’t know why, but I sensed a hint of an odd smile in her gaze. I bit my lip. This director had won numerous international awards. Getting a supporting role in her film was already the best opportunity of my career. So I reluctantly agreed. However, when we actually started filming, the male actor took off his clothes and the director complained that he didn’t have enough abs to look good on camera. She wanted to use a body double for the close-up shots. “His physique is too poor. Our male lead is supposed to be an avid horseback rider and archer. We need at least an eight-pack,” she said. But where would we find a body double on such short notice? I started to panic. Just as it seemed the scene would fall apart, Alexander, who was there as a producer, quietly stepped forward. “I’ll do it,” he said. He glanced at me, the corner of his mouth curving up slightly. As he moved closer, he whispered in a barely audible voice: “Besides, after all our practice, we’re the most compatible, wouldn’t you say, Tessa?” I had a feeling he planned this on purpose. Because what was supposed to be a two-minute kissing and love scene in the script ended up taking the entire afternoon to film due to his various uncooperative antics. He was playing the body double for the male lead, while I played the concubine having a secret affair with him. Behind red silk curtains, wearing only a short embroidered top, I giggled coquettishly: “My lord, the flowers in the imperial garden bloom easily when watered daily. You’re so much better than that old emperor. I’m sure I’ll be with child soon~” His kisses rained down on my brow, lips, trailing down to my collarbone. He swallowed hard and growled, “Good girl.” Even though we had done this for real countless times, I still felt embarrassed in front of the cameras. My skin broke out in goosebumps. After an entire afternoon of exhausting myself to the point of being drenched in sweat with a flushed face, the female director finally yelled “Cut!” with a huge grin. She went over to show Alexander the playback footage. “Mr. Blake, are you satisfied with this?” she asked with a sly smile. He watched the playback seriously, then calmly glanced at my swollen red lips. “Not bad. I’m very satisfied.” Damn it! What exactly are you satisfied with?! To be honest though, aside from his slightly kinky bedroom preferences, Alexander treated me very well as his sugar baby. In addition to strongly supporting my acting career, he also got me an annual gym membership, telling me to build some muscle. He said I needed better stamina to handle the grueling schedule of a busy actress in the future. “Your core strength is too weak,” he said casually, roughly kneading my waist. “It needs work.” I clutched the thin black and gold membership card in my hand and retorted: “I’m not an action movie actress. Why do I need such strong abs?”

With Alexander’s help, I worked overtime rushing from set to set. Not only did my reputation gradually improve, I even earned the nickname “Iron Woman” for my work ethic. In just three months, I managed to pay off the huge penalty that was about to come due. Being debt-free felt amazing. The day I paid it off, I was so moved I cried tears of joy. That night, I insisted on treating my sugar daddy to drinks. Seeing how happy I was, Alexander didn’t refuse. But he probably regretted it soon after. He frowned as I made him ride in a rickety three-wheeled taxi, winding through narrow alleys. “I just paid off my debt, so I can’t afford to treat you to anything fancy. This is my favorite hole-in-the-wall place from college – they have the best spicy lamb soup. I wanted you to try it,” I said with a grin. On the tiny wooden table, I opened a few bottles of beer and boldly handed him one, chugging straight from the bottle myself. As the alcohol kicked in, I saw Alexander’s fingers tracing the beer bottle, the smile fading from his lips. “Tessa Brown, I’m bankrupt,” he said abruptly. It took me a moment to process his words. “What kind of joke is that? You’re a real-life tycoon. How could you go bankrupt just from helping me pay off my measly debt?” I tugged at his suit sleeve, laughing. But as I laughed, I realized something was off. Alexander downed an entire bottle of beer, then suddenly looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot. He said he lost everything betting on the World Cup. He bet all his liquid assets on Argentina in the match against Saudi Arabia, but it was a huge upset. I was stunned. I never imagined that someone as rational and composed as him would be such a rabid sports fan. “My other assets are either tied up in the stock market or frozen. My father was furious and seized the villas under my name too,” he said flatly. He said that starting today, he could no longer support me. He seemed to say something else after that, but I was too dazed to catch it. I only remember patting his shoulder and brazenly declaring: “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. If you have nowhere to live, you can stay at my place. I’ll be your sugar mama.” Afterwards, I even seriously pulled up my home address on my phone to show him! Alexander’s lips curved into a smile, a cunning glint flashing in his eyes. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me, his voice husky as he said: “Alright.” That passionate kiss sobered me up instantly. I quickly scrambled out of his embrace, my face burning. He raised an eyebrow. “We’re so familiar with each other by now. Why are you still shy?” “Bro, I don’t think we’re that close,” I said with a forced smile, pushing him away. He snorted, forcefully wrapping an arm around my waist, and said cryptically:

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My wife has a male best friend. Their relationship is so close that they don’t care about gender boundaries – they can eat together and even sleep in the same room. I’ve asked them multiple times to be mindful and keep their distance. But she gets angry instead: “Ryan and I have known each other for over 20 years. If anything was going to happen between us, it would have happened long ago. You think you have a say in this?” Then she continues to do whatever she wants, staying overnight with Ryan. Even my in-laws treat Ryan like their own son and tell me to be more open-minded. Later, I made a female friend of my own. My wife confronted me: “What’s going on between you and Emma? Don’t you two have any sense of boundaries?” I threw her words right back at her: “Emma and I have been coworkers for three years. If anything was going to happen, it would have happened long ago. You think you have a say in this?” At 4 AM, Lily still hadn’t come home. I knew she wouldn’t be back tonight. In the past, I would have been furious in this situation, calling her non-stop. But today, I was surprisingly calm, without a trace of anger. She came back in the morning, carrying bread and milk. With a grin, she said, “I was partying with Ryan last night and things got a bit wild. I didn’t want to wake you up by coming home late, so I just crashed elsewhere.” She winked playfully and emphasized, “We didn’t share a bed, it was a twin room.” Ryan is her neighbor. They grew up together – childhood friends, as they say. But according to her, she and Ryan are just bros. Even if she stood naked in front of him, he wouldn’t get turned on. I’ve seen them horsing around many times. She’d laugh and hook her arm around Ryan’s neck or jump on his back. Ryan never refused and often pinched her cheeks. Every time I saw this, I felt uncomfortable. I’d pull Lily aside and tell her to be more careful and keep her distance. At first, she’d explain and reassure me. Later, she got impatient and retorted, “We’ve known each other since we were kids. If we were going to be together, what would be the point of you?” And whenever this happened, Ryan would stand nearby with his hands in his pockets, casually saying, “Bro, you’re too uptight. In my eyes, Lily’s not even a woman, she’s like my sister at most. How could I have thoughts about my own sister? Wouldn’t that make me a beast?” Looking at his pretentious act, I thought to myself, aren’t you exactly that kind of beast? For a while, Lily and Ryan did become a bit more distant. She stopped going out so often and stayed home, asking me to massage her back and legs, and cook for her. She demanded five dishes for each meal, with meat, vegetables, and soup. If I complained it was too much trouble, she’d say, “You won’t let me go out, so if I can’t even eat well at home, what’s the point?” I had no choice but to grit my teeth and cook up a storm in the kitchen. She posted photos of my cooking on Instagram. “Praising my home chef.” Ryan commented below: Your Jack is quite the househusband, huh. Other mutual friends chimed in: No wonder you’re not going out lately, someone’s keeping you well-fed at home. The tone was subtle, but I couldn’t help frowning. Lily got upset again: “You’re such a big man, why are you so sensitive? I show off a little and you’re not happy. Fine, I won’t post about you on Instagram anymore, okay?” After a few rounds of this, it seemed like I was always the unreasonable one. Gradually, Lily became less and less patient with me. The distance between us grew wider and wider. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to get close to her heart. “What are you thinking about?” Lily waved her hand in front of my eyes. I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at her smudged makeup and wrinkled clothes, suddenly feeling exhausted. She noticed my bad mood and softened her voice to coax me: “Honey, are you mad?” I didn’t say anything, so she took my hand: “Don’t be upset, okay? I’ll keep you company this afternoon. Oh, didn’t you want to buy a new suit recently? Let’s go to the mall today, I’ll buy it for you, okay?” She always did this – slap me then give me candy. She took advantage of my love for her, manipulating me recklessly, as if certain I wouldn’t get angry or leave. In the afternoon, she dragged me to the mall, browsing the brands I liked. “This one looks good, try it on.” She picked out a dark gray plaid suit, my usual style. When I came out of the fitting room, I saw her holding up her phone, posing. She was on a video call. I walked up beside her, and Ryan was on the other end of the call. She was still smiling: “This suit really suits you, I knew it was perfect at first glance.” Noticing I had come over, she asked for my opinion: “Honey, don’t you think this matches his low-key sexy vibe?” Ryan chuckled on the other end: “So what? Are you going to buy it and send it over to me?” “That’s just a matter of saying the word!” They were still laughing and joking around. I calmly turned away, picked out another suit, and went back to the fitting room to change. I paid for the suit without any emotion, seeing she was still on the video call with Ryan, so I just left on my own. Lily chased after me, complaining: “Why didn’t you wait for me?” “Are you angry again? Is it really worth it?” I smiled: “No, I’m not angry.” This time it was the truth. I really wasn’t angry. After all, I was used to it by now.

That night, I went out drinking with some friends and came home very late. Lily had called me countless times, but I didn’t answer. In the end, I just turned off my phone. For once, she was the one waiting up for me late into the night. I was a bit drunk, but still struggled not to let her help me. I pushed away her hand and felt my way along the wall back to the bedroom, throwing myself onto the bed. Lily never allowed me to get into bed without showering. She thought clothes worn outside were dirty. I had always respected her wishes, but when had she ever respected mine? I fell into a deep sleep. After that day, Lily started treating me with extra care and attention. She prepared loving breakfasts for me every morning, sent me lots of messages during work hours, and even came to have dinner with me when I worked late. It seemed like she was trying to prove through her actions that she had changed. Until one day, I got off work early for once. She said it had been a long time since we’d had Western food, and there was a newly opened restaurant nearby that she wanted to try. I agreed and went straight there from the office. I arrived a bit early and was looking at the menu when I looked up and saw Ryan walk in with her. I took out my phone and sent a message. As Ryan sat down, he apologized: “Sorry to crash your date. I just happened to be in the area on some business, and I’ve been wanting to try this place too. You don’t mind, right?” “I don’t mind,” I said flatly. “How about this – this meal is on me, as an apology,” he said with an easy smile. “Come to think of it, Lily sent me that suit last time, and I haven’t properly thanked you yet.” I glanced at Lily. So she had bought the suit for him after all. Lily seemed a bit nervous: “We really did just happen to run into each other today. Ryan’s not an outsider, and it’s more fun to eat with more people, right?” Ryan laughed and patted Lily’s shoulder: “Look how nervous you are. Jack and I have known each other for so many years now, what’s wrong with having a meal together?” Lily looked at me and quickly moved away from his hand: “Just talk, don’t touch me.” He seemed a bit surprised, raising an eyebrow and giving me a meaningful look: “Alright, alright. Let’s order then. It’s my treat today, so order whatever you want.” Lily opened her phone to scan the QR code and order: “I won’t be polite with you then.” Ryan leaned in close, looking at her phone with her. Their heads were very close together. It was as if they were the couple, and I was the third wheel. After they finished ordering with laughter and chatter, Ryan looked up and said to me in a host-like manner: “Jack, take a look. Is there anything else you want to eat? Have Lily add it for you.” “One moment,” I said. I stood up and waved to a girl in a tight long dress with long flowing hair by the entrance. She walked over quickly, smiling and greeting us: “Sorry I’m late.” I pulled out a chair for her: “It’s fine, we just finished ordering. Take a look and see if you want to add anything?” Lily sized her up, her face growing darker: “Honey, who is this?”

“She’s my coworker, Emma.” Emma smiled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear to reveal her beautiful face: “Hello everyone, I’m Jack’s coworker. Jack is very kind and always takes care of me. I see him as an older brother.” Hearing this, Lily’s expression grew even more unpleasant. She moved closer to me. The food came quickly. Ryan clearly knew Lily well, placing her favorite dishes in front of her and even carefully cutting her steak for her. Emma was having some trouble cutting hers, so I swapped my already-cut steak with hers. She smiled at me in thanks. Lily tugged at my hand: “Honey, can you pour me some water?” I picked up the pitcher and poured some for her, then also topped off Emma’s glass. Ryan held up his glass: “I’m good, thanks.” Lily’s hostility towards Emma was obvious: “Miss Emma, Jack is just a nice guy. He’s considerate to everyone. People often misunderstand him because of it.” She gave me a reproachful look: “He’s always being misunderstood.” Emma responded calmly: “That just shows how charismatic Jack is! All the young women in the office love him. They say he’s handsome, capable, and a good family man.” This made me blush. Lily forced a smile: “Is that so?” Emma pointed towards Ryan: “Of course. But compared to the gentleman next to you, Jack obviously falls short. Look at him, his eyes haven’t left you all meal.” Her words were too blunt. Ryan coughed awkwardly: “You’re exaggerating.” The meal was filled with tension. Afterwards, Emma left first. Ryan offered to drive us home, but I jingled my car keys to show I had driven. He then asked Lily: “It’s still early. Want to go for another round?” Lily hesitated, looking at me. I avoided her gaze, not wanting to give an opinion. Ryan understood and invited me along: “Jack, why don’t you come too? We’re all childhood friends of Lily’s.” He didn’t really want me to go, but had to put on a show of being generous. My in-laws, oblivious to the undercurrents, smiled and said: “You young people should go out and have fun.” Ryan affectionately put his arms around them, joking: “Uncle, Auntie, you’re still young too. Why don’t you come with us?” They laughed heartily at his words. I watched this scene – they were all so friendly, like one big happy family. And I was the outsider who didn’t know his place. I stood up: “You guys go ahead. I’m a bit tired, I’ll head home first.” “Honey!” Lily called out to me. I turned back. She bit her lip, then said: “Drive safely. I’ll be home early.” Hah, of course. I smiled and left. That night, I didn’t wait up for Lily. She could come home whenever she wanted. Or not come home at all. I was sick of this wife, this marriage. My marriage to Lily had reached an impasse, with no way forward or back. Might as well just muddle through like this. On Saturday, Lily spent the whole morning dolling herself up. She said she had lunch plans with some girlfriends and they were going shopping after. I didn’t ask any questions. I just checked the time and changed into some clothes, getting ready to go out myself. “You’re going out too?” she asked. “I’m meeting a friend for lunch.” “Which friend? Do I know them?” She asked casually while applying lipstick. “Emma. You’ve met her.” “What?”

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After the third time Shawna Langley sent money to her brother without asking me, I finally gave up on trying. I quit my high-paying job and stayed home all day playing video games, living off what we had. It only took three days for Shawna to start panicking. She pointed a finger at me, demanding to know what I was doing. “What about the mortgage, the car loan, Gracie’s lessons, the household bills? None of that’s free, you know!” Oh, so she actually realized how much our life costs, huh? Then why did she keep giving away our money to her brother? Content During my lunch break, I got a call from my mom. A storm had torn through, collapsing part of the barn back at Elmwood Ranch. She asked if I could send over a couple grand to get it repaired. I said sure and opened my banking app—only to see there was just $500 left in the account. Last I checked, we had at least five grand. Now there’s only $500? I knew right away Shawna must’ve used it; she had the card. What the hell did she spend five thousand bucks on in just a few days? I called her, holding back the fury in my voice. “Shawna, where did all the money in our account go?” She hesitated, fumbling for words. I felt my gut tighten. “Did you send it to your brother again?” “My brother… needed a little extra for his car, and I just…” Her voice trailed off, barely a whisper. I rubbed my forehead, unsure what to say. We’d dated for three years and were now seven years into marriage with a six-year-old daughter, Gracie. We’d married for love, but even then, our families clashed over it. Shawna’s mother demanded a sky-high dowry, way beyond my budget. Her mother scoffed, “My daughter’s been with you for three years. Surely her youth deserves some compensation, don’t you think?” Shawna sat there, head bowed, silently letting her mother run the negotiations. Finally, we both compromised on $28,800, all of which went straight to her parents, who turned around and gave every penny to Shawna’s brother. Back then, I actually felt bad for Shawna, stuck with parents so blatantly favoring her brother. Little did I know she was just as blind to reality as they were. I pulled out another card and transferred three grand to my mom, then went to the office and put in for vacation time. With my years at the company, I’d built up twenty days of paid time off. Normally, I never took my leave—it was all cashed out as overtime pay. This year, I’d be enjoying every single one of those days. When I got home, Shawna was still busy in the kitchen, while Gracie ran over to me, shouting, “Daddy!” I scooped her up and sat with her on the couch, reading her picture books. At dinner, Shawna kept her silence until I finally announced, “I quit my job. I’m going to take it easy and stay home for a while.” Her hand froze mid-bite, and she shot me a look. “You’re kidding, right?” I stared at her calmly. “Do I look like I’m joking?” She kept eating, not saying another word. Maybe she thought I was bluffing—after all, the job paid well, sometimes pulling in ten grand a month. Why would anyone in their right mind walk away from that?

The next morning, for the first time since getting married, I slept in as long as I wanted. Normally, workdays meant early mornings, and weekends were dedicated to taking care of Gracie—no chance to catch up on sleep. Shawna was up bright and early, though. She made Gracie breakfast, dropped her off at preschool, went grocery shopping, and had dinner cooking by the time I finally woke up, hair a mess. Shawna looked startled to see me. “Why… why aren’t you at work?” Yawning, I said, “Didn’t I tell you yesterday? I quit.” Holding a spatula, she looked at me, trying to gauge if I was serious. “You’re joking, right?” she said, before turning back to her cooking. For the next few days, I slept till noon, had lunch, and spent my afternoons gaming until sunset. Once Shawna brought Gracie home from preschool, I’d come out of the study to play with her. After three days of this, as I was heading back to the study after lunch, Shawna slammed down her chopsticks. “Daryl Hayes, what exactly do you think you’re doing?” she said, glaring at me. I stayed calm. “I told you—I quit. I’m just enjoying my time at home.” “Are you even hearing yourself? Do you realize what you’re saying?” “Mortgage alone is five grand a month. Another two for the car, plus Gracie’s preschool tuition, her dance lessons—let alone all the other expenses! You just quit, and now how are we all supposed to live? Air and sunshine?” I raised an eyebrow at her, smirking. “Oh, so you do know how much our life costs, huh?” “Then why do you keep giving our money to your brother?” “How many times now have you snuck money out to help him?” I started counting on my fingers. “I think I’d need both hands to keep track.” Her jaw clenched as she realized I was mocking her. “It was just five grand, Daryl. What’s the big deal?” “It’s my brother too, Daryl! What’s wrong with helping him out?” I laughed, clapping my hands. “You’re the best sister anyone could ever ask for—a real second mom, aren’t you? When I wanted money to start a business with my buddy, you said no. But when your brother wanted a house, you transferred him thirty grand without blinking. When my mom needed surgery, you said we couldn’t afford it, yet when your brother needed wedding money, you wired him another twenty grand. And this time? The storm flattened our barn, and you went and sent him that money too! Tell me, Shawna, has he ever bought Gracie even a single toy?” Shawna said nothing, staring at me with a blank expression that slowly turned tearful. “Daryl Hayes, I can’t believe you’ve kept track of every single thing over our seven years of marriage!” Her voice cracked. “You’re actually keeping tabs, huh?” “Yes, I am. You’ve given so much to your brother; why even bother getting married? You could’ve stayed single and just paid his bills yourself!” She pointed at me, furious, then swept the plates off the table and stormed out. I didn’t chase her. Divorce had crossed my mind more than once, but I’d been holding back for Gracie’s sake. She stormed by me with her suitcase, not even glancing my way. Perfect, now I could finally breathe a little. Once I’d cleaned up the mess, I picked up Gracie from preschool, giving the teacher some excuse about “family matters.” Gracie’s face lit up when she saw me. “Daddy! You’re picking me up? Where’s Mommy?” I kissed her on the cheek. “Mommy went to visit Grandma. How about we hit the amusement park today?” She was stunned for a second, then squealed with joy. “Yay!”

Shawna never had much affection for Gracie. From the moment she knew we were having a girl, she treated her differently. When Gracie was only a couple of months old, Shawna was already pushing for a second child. I was already exhausted from work and taking care of Gracie at night—I wasn’t ready for another. When I refused, Shawna started poking holes in our, uh, “small umbrella.” She would’ve gotten away with it if I hadn’t caught her. To end that debate for good, I went to the doctor and took matters into my own hands. When Gracie was three, Shawna’s brother had a daughter, Star. From then on, it was clear Shawna favored Star over Gracie. Every time we visited, she’d be holding Star, calling her “baby” and “sweetie.” Gracie would sometimes ask me, “Daddy, does Mommy love me?” It hurt to see my little girl learning to read people’s faces at such a young age. I always assured her, “Of course, Mommy loves you most of all.” Then, when Gracie was five, and Star was two, Shawna’s brother brought his family over. Star wanted to go to the amusement park, and of course, Gracie wanted to go too. But instead of taking both girls, Shawna left Gracie home alone and went with her brother’s family. That night, Gracie clung to me, crying for what felt like forever. “Daddy, I know. Mommy doesn’t love me.” That night, I took her to the amusement park myself. We rode the carousel, the little train, the bumper cars, and had some greasy fried chicken and soda. Watching her munch happily, I wondered if my decision to stay married for her sake was a mistake. It was well past dark by the time we got home. Gracie was fast asleep in the backseat, and I carried her up to her bed. Just as I was settling down, the phone rang. Mrs. Langley was on the line. “Daryl, do you have any conscience at all? Shawna’s been crying all afternoon because of you!” “You can’t apologize? She only took five grand—don’t tell me you’re that stingy! As her husband, isn’t it your job to help her family?” The lecture went on before I’d even had a chance to speak. Eventually, she hung up, and I went to bed, only to be woken by someone banging on my door. I staggered up to open it, and before I could react, I took a slap to the face that jolted me wide awake. There she was—Mrs. Langley, eyes blazing. “Look at you, sleeping like a pig while Shawna cried herself to sleep!” she said, barging in and plopping down on the couch. Shawna followed, eyes red, looking like she’d been crying all night. “Now, you apologize to Shawna,” her mom ordered. “Apologize? Me? For what?” I laughed. Mrs. Langley’s face twisted in disbelief. “Oh, so you’re dreaming now, huh?” Before she could start swinging again, her son, Aaron, came in with his wife and little Star in tow. Great. The whole family had shown up for a lecture.

The whole Langley family sat on the couch facing me, like they were holding some kind of trial. “Hey, Big Bro Hayes, don’t you think you’re being a bit tight with the cash? It was just five grand. Call it a loan, alright?” Aaron Langley said, totally unfazed, as he picked at his nails. “Fine,” I replied, “so that’s five grand for the car, twenty grand for the wedding, and another thirty for the house—that’s already fifty-five grand. Then let’s add on the $880 for the computer you wanted. Oh, and the $180 for those shoes—sent the link to your sister for that one, didn’t you? Then there’s Star’s tutoring, the piano lessons—twenty classes at three hundred bucks each. And…” “Enough!” Mrs. Langley interrupted. “Daryl, all these little amounts, and you keep track like it’s your job! If you’re so good with numbers, why aren’t you an accountant?” “Oh, so I married myself a live-in housekeeper, huh?” I laughed. “I’m supposed to pay her a salary now, too?” And wasn’t it Shawna who decided she wanted to be a homemaker? She seemed to have forgotten that part. Our argument must have gotten loud because Gracie rubbed her eyes as she came out of her room, startled by the crowd. “Daddy?” She walked over to me, looking a bit confused. Mrs. Langley rolled her eyes. “No manners, is it? So many people in the room, and all you see is your dad. Did he tell you to ignore us?” Gracie, in her innocence, defended me. “No.” “Oh, so now you’re back-talking? Where’s your respect?” Mrs. Langley snapped. Even Shawna joined in, scolding Gracie. “Gracie, you don’t talk back to your grandmother, you hear me? She’s your elder, show some respect.” Respect? Only if the person deserves it. Gracie had never once been to her grandmother’s house, even though Shawna visited her mom’s place every holiday. She’d claimed bringing Gracie there would ruin Star’s “luck.” I used to argue with her about this ridiculous idea, but over time, I stopped bothering. Every year, Shawna would head to her mother’s, and I’d take Gracie to Elmwood Ranch. “Alright, Daryl, just apologize to my sister, and let’s put this to rest,” Aaron said, only ever calling Shawna “sister” when he wanted something. “We’re family. You don’t need to be so hung up on money. You can always make more, but blood ties? You can’t replace that.” I sighed, letting him know: “I quit my job, Aaron. So whatever money was there is just… gone.” “What? You left your job?” Aaron shot up from the couch. “Sis, why didn’t you tell me this? What about that twenty grand you promised me for the business?” His wife elbowed him hard, and Aaron bit his lip, glancing awkwardly over at Shawna. Oh, so that’s how it was. When I wanted to start a business, she told me it was too risky, that I’d probably lose everything, that I should be sensible and stable. But when it came to Aaron, she snuck behind my back to fund his venture. “Shawna,” I said, barely containing my anger, “I won’t go over this again. Pick a day, and we’ll head to City Hall and get those divorce papers signed. That way, you can do whatever you want for your brother without anyone stopping you.”

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On the eve of the piano competition, my right hand was accidentally scalded. The championship slipped through my fingers. As soon as Gideon heard about it, he rushed back from out of town overnight. Everyone said he was madly in love with me. Only I knew the truth. Gideon had someone scald my hand to please Lily, his long-time crush. At the hospital, the man carelessly glanced at my grotesque wound. He said lightly, “Does it really hurt that much? Stop pretending.” “I only told them to splash half a cup of water.” Hearing the man’s nonchalant tone, I didn’t make a fuss. Instead, I silently planned my escape for a month later, on our wedding day. In the quiet hospital room, Gideon lit up his phone screen once again. His eyes frequently darted to the screen, as if waiting for a message from someone. I noticed the blood starting to flow back into the IV tube. The man still looked distracted. I finally couldn’t help but remind him: “Gideon, the IV bag is empty.” Gideon responded perfunctorily, without even sparing me a glance. Just then, a message notification sounded. A smile immediately appeared on Gideon’s lips, his eyes softening noticeably. His fingers flew quickly across the phone screen. I looked away, no longer watching him. There was no need to guess – Gideon was replying to Lily’s message. Only she could make the usually cold Gideon treat her so tenderly. “Oh, by the way, go home by yourself after the IV is done,” Gideon instructed me without looking up. I turned to look out the window. A light rain was falling, but the wind was strong. Just then, Lily posted on her social media. It was a screenshot of a large bank transfer. [Thanks to CEO Gideon for the $52,000~] I suddenly remembered. On Valentine’s Day, Gideon had sent me a $52 red envelope. Only after I pestered him for a long time did Gideon agree, with an impatient look on his face. The man’s words still echoed in my ears: “Holly, when did you become so vain?” “It’s just an unimportant holiday, do you need to be so petty about it?” But to please Lily, he was willing to spend $52,000 without batting an eye. I curled my fingers awkwardly, as if that could ease the stabbing pain in my heart. Just then, Lily walked in carrying a bouquet of flowers. As soon as he saw Lily, Gideon jumped to his feet, his eyes filled with undisguised delight. He walked over and took the flowers from her hands. Lily pulled out a trophy from behind her back, acting as if I wasn’t there. “The championship is mine!” she said proudly. Gideon seemed even happier than her. He hugged Lily right in front of me. Watching this scene, I felt nothing but irony. In the previous two preliminary rounds, I had won first place each time, pulling far ahead of Lily who came in second. Even the competition judges couldn’t help but congratulate me in advance. “Miss Holly, no one here is a match for you.” At that time, almost everyone was certain. The championship would be mine. But Lily went to Gideon. She cried pitifully, clutching the man’s sleeve. Lily didn’t even have to say anything. Gideon couldn’t bear it. He felt extremely sorry for her. He immediately had someone scald my right hand. God knows how heartbroken I was when I called the staff to withdraw. “Miss Holly, are you voluntarily forfeiting?” the staff asked in disbelief. I let the tears flow into my mouth, suppressing wave after wave of heartache. “Yes, I’m voluntarily forfeiting.” Looking at the trophy that should have been mine, I slowly averted my gaze. I could lose to anyone, but I especially couldn’t lose to Lily. Gideon still didn’t know that Lily was the culprit behind my father’s death. Ten years ago, to save Lily who had fallen into the lake, my father jumped in without hesitation, ignoring all warnings. He rescued Lily. But the first thing Lily did when she got to shore wasn’t to thank my father. Instead, she insisted: “He touched my pants while we were underwater!” “He’s a pervert!” As a teacher, my father couldn’t bear the humiliation. Amid the public condemnation, he chose to take his own life. After the two finished their intimate moment, Lily finally noticed me. She offered me her trophy, smiling as she consoled me: “Holly, don’t be too sad.” “The championship, well, it’s not something just anyone can win if they want to.” “You touched the trophy, so that counts as being the champion too.” Looking at the woman’s seemingly kind face, I could no longer suppress the anger in my heart. I couldn’t help but laugh coldly. “You can be so at ease with something you stole.” As soon as I said that, Gideon frowned and pulled Lily behind him protectively. His face darkened frighteningly. Seeing this, Lily’s eyes filled with even more tears. They teetered on the edge of falling, looking utterly pitiful. “Holly, did getting an IV mess up your brain?” Gideon snapped. “Lily came to comfort you.” “She’s not here to be your punching bag.” Lily sniffled softly, tugging at the man’s sleeve. “Don’t say that,” she pleaded. “If Holly hadn’t injured her hand…” But Gideon wasn’t having it. He glanced at me, his eyes full of annoyance. “You don’t need to speak up for her.” “No skill is no skill.” “Just because she won a few awards, she really thinks she’s better than you.” The man’s particularly harsh words left me momentarily stunned. When Gideon and I first got together, he wasn’t the wealthy Gideon he is now. He saw how much I loved the piano and used all his savings to buy me one. I’ll always remember that day. Gideon stood in our tiny rented apartment, with a piano that looked completely out of place behind him. He hid his hands behind his back, which were covered in chilblains from working day and night. He said to me: “Congratulations, Miss Holly, on getting your first piano.” I cried so hard I could barely speak. “But I… I don’t really have any talent in this area.” Gideon hugged me gently and whispered in my ear: “No, Holly.” “In my heart, you’re the most amazing pianist.” Thanks to Gideon’s encouragement time and time again, I never gave up on my dream. But people always change. Like 31-year-old Gideon. He would never be like 22-year-old Gideon anymore. Always putting me first, loving me unconditionally. When Gideon left the hospital room, he slammed the door thunderously. He even threw some harsh words at me: “Holly, this is my last warning.” “If you make Lily unhappy one more time, I won’t go through with the wedding next month!” Gideon was used to threatening me with marriage. He always believed I couldn’t leave him. Maybe that used to be true. But now, I opened my phone and bought a plane ticket abroad for a month later. And that day happened to be Gideon and I’s wedding day. After the IV finished, the clock struck 4 AM. I didn’t bring my phone, so I had to walk home alone. When I opened the door as dawn was breaking, Gideon was in the kitchen cooking, wearing an apron. The once cold house finally had some warmth to it. Gideon looked up at me. He seemed to notice my wet hair and disheveled clothes. A rare flash of guilt crossed the man’s eyes. He rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache and walked over to me. “It was wrong of me to leave you behind this time.” “I ordered takeout, have some.” As if trying to break the ice, Gideon’s tone softened considerably. I glanced at the simple takeout on the table, feeling no appetite whatsoever. There was even a fried egg in the box. After all these years, Gideon couldn’t even remember I was allergic to eggs. Inadvertently, I noticed several lunchboxes on the kitchen counter. Vegetables, meat dishes, and even freshly cut fruit. There was even a pot of pork rib soup simmering on the stove. Gideon must have noticed my gaze. He shifted awkwardly, trying to block my view. He explained, “You know how it is.” “Lily gets really tired from practicing piano.” “I can’t just not take care of her.” Gideon spread his hands, as if he really had no choice in the matter. In the past, I would have made a fuss. But now, a sense of helplessness gradually spread through me. A year ago, when Gideon was on a business trip in another province, he accidentally lost his wallet. Lily helped him out. Since then, Gideon always had one phrase on his lips: “If it weren’t for Lily, I don’t know what I would have done.” No matter what trouble Lily got into, Gideon would always stand behind her without hesitation. Whenever I expressed my dissatisfaction with this, Gideon would get very impatient. “Holly, Lily isn’t just anyone. I already treat her like my own sister.” Thinking of this, I gently pushed the man away and said, “She does need to eat well.” Hearing this, Gideon looked at me in surprise. As if my current demeanor was utterly foreign to him. But he didn’t ask further. Instead, he pulled out a small, exquisite jewelry box from his pocket. I recognized it immediately. It was the diamond necklace I had asked Gideon for months ago. Even though I had mentioned it more than once, Gideon still hadn’t gotten it for me. Yet this time, Gideon wanted to give it to me. I watched as Gideon opened the box. The diamond necklace was just as dazzling as when I saw it in the jewelry store. But I couldn’t feel happy at all. Because I had seen an identical necklace around Lily’s neck before. I still remember her smug expression. “This necklace? I just mentioned it to Gideon once, and the next day it was in my hands.” What I had longed for, Lily could obtain effortlessly. In an instant, I felt nauseated and pushed Gideon away, walking towards the bedroom. This action angered him. The man snapped the box shut with a loud click, his brows furrowed in rage. “Holly, what do you mean by this?” “The food is right in front of you, and you won’t eat it.” “You won’t even look at the necklace I bought you.” “Are you still throwing a tantrum over that incident?” As for “that incident”, Gideon and I both knew what it was. Seeing my apparently unconcerned attitude, Gideon became visibly angrier. His chest heaved violently, like an enraged lion. He grabbed a nearby photo frame and smashed it on the ground. The glass frame instantly shattered into pieces. “Holly, you’ve really gone too far now!” I said nothing, just looking at the photo on the ground. It was the first photo Gideon and I had taken together. To show how precious it was, I had specially framed it. I still remember what Gideon said to me that time. “Holly, I won’t change my heart.” “So you’re not allowed to leave me either. We have to be together forever.” Back then, I was too naive and easily believed his words. So I teased him: “What if you do change your heart?” Gideon heard this and actually thought seriously for a moment. Finally, he said firmly: “Then you should never forgive me.” “No matter how pitifully I beg you to come back.” “Holly, you have to remember.” “Never look back.” The faces of young Gideon and adult Gideon gradually overlapped. My nose stung, and I struggled to resist the urge to pick up the photo frame. In the end, Gideon and I parted on bad terms. The reason this argument ended was that it was almost time to bring food to Lily. After Gideon slammed the door and hurried away, the room fell silent again. I looked at that old piano and didn’t hesitate any longer. I picked up a hammer and smashed it violently. After the piano was completely destroyed, I called a junk collector. The worker was shocked by the smashed piano. He asked me, “Are you sure you want to sell it?” I nodded calmly: “It’s just a pile of useless junk.” Two weeks passed. The wedding day was getting closer and closer. But Gideon seemed to have forgotten about me, not even willing to step foot in our home anymore. The man who used to always complain to me about being too busy with work was now willing to travel the world with Lily. I learned all this from Lily’s social media posts. During this time, she updated very frequently. Mostly photos with Gideon. Seeing the man’s smiling face, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. You should know, it had been a long time since I had seen Gideon smile. In front of me, he always had a stern face, devoid of any warmth. Many friends found out about this and asked me: “What’s the relationship between Gideon and that woman?” I was silent for a moment, then said: “Just ordinary friends.” “Are you still getting married?” I smiled. “Of course. You all must come to the wedding.” Hearing my seemingly normal tone, almost everyone believed that I was madly in love with Gideon. That’s why I chose to marry him even after finding out about his affair. Finally, three days before the wedding, Gideon came back. He brought back all kinds of gifts. Big and small, they almost filled the entire house. Gideon rubbed my head, saying with satisfaction: “If only you could always be this obedient.” I barely managed to suppress my nausea and not dodge the man’s touch. It was this very hand that had held Lily’s countless times. I found it disgusting. He handed me a card, saying in a patronizing tone: “You can pick out the wedding rings.” “Lily’s busy with a competition lately, I need to accompany her.” As if afraid I would throw another tantrum, Gideon warned me first: “This competition is very important to Lily.” “Don’t make trouble.” Contrary to the man’s expectations, I just nodded lightly. Gideon didn’t pay much attention to my unusual behavior. He just thought I had become more obedient, and left in a very good mood. So Gideon accompanied Lily for another three days without worry. On the day of the wedding, just before going on stage, the makeup artist was giving me a final touch-up. I listened to the host’s voice from the hall. Until I heard: “Let’s welcome the bride…” The rest of the words were interrupted by an urgent phone call. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Gideon answered the phone with a panicked look. Lily’s tearful voice came through the speaker: “Gideon, the goldfish you bought me turned belly up.” “Is it going to die…” The phone was on speaker, so almost everyone could hear. Gideon’s face showed a conflicted, hesitant expression. I watched him from afar behind the curtain. Finally, Gideon raised his hand decisively. “I’m sorry, the wedding will be paused.” “We’ll resume in about 30 minutes.” There was an uproar among the audience. But Gideon pushed the door open and left without hesitation. This time, I didn’t hesitate either. I tore off my veil, took off my wedding dress. Under everyone’s shocked gazes, I got in a taxi and left.

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My girlfriend locked me on the rooftop the night before the final round of a piano competition, just so her childhood friend could win. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You’ll have so many chances in the future. Can’t you let this one go for him?” Later, to ensure he got the spot in the orchestra, she went even further—she broke my fingers with her own hands. I furiously demanded why, when I was supposed to be her partner. She said, “Caleb, Ashton’s mother saved my life. I owe it to him to fulfill her dying wish.” But what she didn’t understand was that losing my hands felt like losing my life. When I decided to stop loving her, she smashed her own hand—begging for my forgiveness. Content “Please, Sienna, don’t hurt my hands!” I begged, tears streaming down my face. I squirmed and struggled, shaking my head desperately. At that moment, I had no dignity left, pleading for her mercy. Tomorrow was the audition for the New Haven Philharmonic Orchestra, the opportunity I had worked tirelessly toward. If I performed well, not only could I join the prestigious orchestra, but I’d have a chance to study under Maestro Fletcher Scott, a living legend in the piano world. For months, I lived in the practice room, working through exhaustion for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It wasn’t just my dream—it was my late mother’s. But here I was, on the brink of everything I’d worked for, and Sienna Hartwell, my girlfriend, had hired two bodyguards to restrain me. She raised a chair over my hands, ready to destroy them. All so her childhood friend Ashton Hale could have a clear path to victory. I knew Sienna had a soft spot for Ashton, but I never thought she’d go this far. Ignoring my desperate pleas, she stepped closer, her face cold and determined. “I’m sorry, Caleb,” she said, her voice steady. “You’re a genius. Everything comes easy to you. But you have no idea how hard Ashton has worked for this. You’ll have more chances. Let this one go for him.” Hard work? As if I didn’t work just as hard? I stared at her in disbelief, my voice shaking with pain and anger. “So you’re going to break my hands for him?” “Do you remember what you promised me?” I said, my voice cracking. “You said you’d love me, treasure me forever. Now, for Ashton, you’re doing this?” Her body stiffened, hesitation flickering in her eyes. Noticing her wavering resolve, I seized the moment. “Sienna, we’ve been together for years. Please, for what we’ve shared, don’t do this. Piano has always been my dream.” Before she could answer, her phone buzzed. I caught a glimpse of the screen: Ashton Hale. My heart sank. She answered the call on speaker, and Ashton’s soft, trembling voice filled the room. “Sienna, I’m so nervous about tomorrow. What if I mess up? This is my dream… my mom’s dream… but Caleb’s always been better than me. What should I do?” Sienna’s eyes softened with guilt and compassion. “Don’t worry, Ashton,” she said in a soothing tone. “I’ll handle it.” I watched in horror as she hung up and turned back to me. Her face was cold again. “Caleb, I owe Ashton’s mom my life,” she said. “I have to make this happen for him.” Her voice wavered, but not with doubt—only determination. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.” I trembled, the terror in my voice undeniable. “Sienna, you… you can’t do this to me!”

But she already had the chair raised high. The sound of it crashing down on my hands made the room spin. “AHHHH!” I screamed, the pain exploding through me like fire. Blood and mangled flesh smeared the floor as I stared at my ruined fingers. It was over. Everything—my hands, my mother’s dream—shattered in an instant. Tears streamed down my face as I sat in shock. Sienna knelt beside me, pulling me into her arms. But her voice was cold, devoid of warmth. “I’m sorry, Caleb. Forgive me just this once.” Her words cut deeper than the pain. “I know this isn’t fair,” she added, her tone trembling slightly. “But Ashton’s mom died saving me. I have to do this for him. Once he’s in the orchestra, I’ll have repaid that debt.” “Debt?” I repeated bitterly, forcing out a laugh. “So your way of repaying it is by destroying me?” Summoning every ounce of strength, I shoved her away. Holding up my bloody hands, I glared at her with unrestrained hatred. “Do you even know how hard I worked for tomorrow? What this meant to me?” I shouted, tears and fury mingling. For a moment, guilt flashed across her face, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Enough, Caleb!” she snapped, her voice sharp. “Ashton’s dream has always been to join the orchestra. It was his mother’s dying wish!” At that moment, I knew I was done. I laughed bitterly. “And that justifies ruining my life?” Sienna shrugged, her tone dismissive. “Don’t be so dramatic, Caleb. I’ll take care of you. Once Ashton is in the orchestra, you’ll marry into the Hartwell family and never have to worry about money again.” Her words turned my stomach. I took a deep breath, my voice calm but cutting. “Let me make something clear: I don’t want your so-called compensation. We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.” Her face twisted with disbelief and fury. “You can’t be serious!” Her anger bubbled over, her voice rising. “If you say that again, I’ll make you regret it!” Then she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Alone on the cold floor, I wept.

I met Sienna Hartwell during college. She saved me once, pulling me back just as I was about to step into traffic while lost in thought. I looked up, heart pounding, and was met with the face of an angel. That moment stuck with me. I couldn’t help falling for her, partly out of gratitude and partly because she seemed so perfect. After months of pursuing her relentlessly, she agreed to date me. But as we grew closer, I noticed something unsettling. In Sienna’s heart, there was always someone more important than me—her childhood friend, Ashton Hale. It didn’t matter what we were doing. If Ashton called, she’d drop everything and rush to his side. The night before the National Piano Championship, she even tricked me into going to the rooftop of our building, locking me there overnight. I spent hours in the cold, pounding on the door, while she ignored my calls. The next day, feverish and completely drained, I missed the competition entirely. Meanwhile, Ashton claimed first place. When I confronted her afterward, Sienna dismissed it with an excuse. “I did it to repay a debt,” she said lightly. Ashton’s mother, Isabel Hale, had worked for the Hartwell family as their housekeeper. After Ashton’s father left, Isabel brought him along to live in the Hartwell mansion. Years ago, a fire broke out at the estate. Isabel had already escaped but ran back inside to save Sienna. Sienna lived; Isabel didn’t. The Hartwells raised Ashton like their own, showering him with love and opportunities. Sienna, feeling eternally indebted, treated Ashton like a prince. She fulfilled his every request—no matter the cost to herself or others. And now, to ensure Ashton’s victory at tomorrow’s audition, she had gone so far as to shatter my fingers. Why? Why should I pay the price for a debt that wasn’t mine? Whenever I questioned her loyalty to Ashton, she flew into a rage, insisting they were like siblings. “Siblings don’t treat each other like that!” I wanted to scream, but I held my tongue. Time and time again, I forgave her. Out of love. Out of gratitude. But this time, as I stared at my bloodied, mangled hands, all I could do was laugh bitterly. My life had been hard enough without this. When I was six, my dad left us. My mom fell apart, sinking into depression and self-harm. She abandoned her own dreams of becoming a pianist, too broken to play anymore. One day, she heard me tapping out a melody on our battered old piano. Something inside her came back to life. She started teaching me, pouring everything into me. She took odd jobs—delivering food, scrubbing dishes—just to pay for my lessons. By the time I entered college, all that sacrifice had taken its toll. Cancer claimed her. Before she passed, she held my hand and whispered her final wish: “Caleb, promise me you’ll follow this path. Join an orchestra. Become the pianist I never could be.” Now, because I loved Sienna, I had failed her dream. My hands, my future—they were all gone. I used to wonder how my mom could waste away over a man who abandoned her. But now I understood. This is the price of loving someone. And I’ll never love again.

The sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant filled the hospital room, stinging my nose. I frowned, glancing at the clock. By now, the New Haven Philharmonic Orchestra auditions had ended. The nurses outside were chattering. “Did you hear? Maestro Fletcher Scott picked Ashton Hale for the orchestra!” “Yeah, I saw the news. Ashton’s amazing—and he’s dating Sienna Hartwell! Can you believe it? A childhood romance straight out of a fairytale.” Their voices faded down the hall. I slumped against the bed, their words cutting deeper than my wounds. The doctor’s earlier statement replayed in my mind. “You’re lucky your hands can heal at all,” he’d said. “But as for piano… even if you play again, you’ll never reach the same level.” His words were like ice water, extinguishing the last flicker of hope. Just then, the door creaked open. Sienna walked in, followed by Ashton, who was holding a bouquet of flowers. I stared at them, my face cold and unreadable. “What do you want? Here to gloat?” “Caleb, don’t say that,” Ashton murmured, looking sheepish. “Sienna told me about your injury. I just wanted to check on you.” He placed the bouquet on the bedside table. “Is that so?” I said with a bitter smile. “Let me guess—you didn’t know Sienna broke my hands for you?” Sienna’s face drained of color. She clenched her fists, her voice trembling with anger. “Hate me if you want, Caleb, but leave Ashton out of this. He didn’t know!” Didn’t know? I almost laughed. How many times had Ashton smirked at me in private, bragging about how Sienna locked me on the rooftop? How he sent people to harass me, warning me to back off? I lifted my bandaged hands and, with all the strength I could muster, threw his bouquet onto the floor. Ashton gasped dramatically, stumbling behind Sienna like a frightened child. Sienna exploded, pointing at me furiously. “You’re insane, Caleb! Ashton came here out of kindness, and this is how you repay him?” I kept my voice calm, sharp as a knife. “I’m allergic to those flowers. You’d know that if you cared.” Her anger faltered, embarrassment flashing across her face. “I… I forgot…” she stammered. I cut her off coldly. “We’re done, Sienna. We’re over.”

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In my past life, my sister, Ivy Bright, urged me to skip class, play online games all night, and sleep through lessons. Whenever I tried to study, she mocked me for pretending to be “so serious.” But at night, she was burning the midnight oil, studying in secret during holidays and meeting with star scholars like Mia Goldstein at the library. When the SATs came around, she got into Ivy Tech University, graduated to work at Stellar Innovations Inc., and married a programmer making hundreds of thousands a year. I, on the other hand, scored just 200 points, earning the disdain of my parents, who sent me to Midland Assembly Plant to screw bolts. Later, I married a guy like Trey Walters, who abused me even while I was pregnant, leading to my tragic death during childbirth. At my funeral, Ivy wore her mask of sorrow and said, “Hazel was so smart but refused to apply herself. Everything she faced was her own doing. Unlike me, who always worked hard and changed my fate through education.” Then, I opened my eyes. I was back at the Cyber Zone Lounge, locked in an intense gaming session with my team.

I shook my drowsy head, grabbed my grimy backpack, and sprinted home. At home, Ivy was furiously scribbling notes under her desk lamp. Seeing me, she quickly stashed her study sheets. “Hazel, why are you back? Now your team is one short. How will they win without you?” It was always Ivy who dragged me to the lounge. Then, she’d yawn, fake being tired, and sneak off to study at home. I grabbed my untouched SAT prep books and taped my target school, “Harvard-MIT Alliance,” on the wall. Ivy’s face darkened with rage. “You? Harvard-MIT? Who do you think you are?” Not only would I aim for Harvard-MIT, but I’d show her that natural talent could never be surpassed by hard work. The smoky, sweat-filled air of the Cyber Zone Lounge lingered in my memory as my teammates shouted obscenities after a loss. It hit me—I’d been reborn. I was back at seventeen, just one month before the first major SAT mock exam. I didn’t care about the commotion I left behind. Grabbing my filthy bag, I bolted. “Hazel, you promised to carry us to gold rank!” they yelled after me, but I didn’t turn back. My future mattered more than their fleeting victories. When I got home, it was 1 a.m. Ivy’s light was still on, her silhouette reflected in the window. Her pen raced across the paper. I barged into her room. Ivy jumped, hastily shoving her study guide under her arm. Smirking, I recorded her with my phone. “You said you were too tired to study. So why are you still up?” I yawned. Feigning nonchalance, she replied, “Oh, I woke up to use the bathroom and realized my backpack wasn’t packed. I’m just fixing it before going to bed.” Ivy turned off her lamp. I returned to my room, flicked on a desk light I hadn’t used in ages, and opened my blank prep books. In my past life, I barely scraped into high school by cramming during my final weeks of middle school. Ivy, meanwhile, convinced me that being friends with the “cool kids” mattered more than grades. The school’s “pay-to-play” Honors Track was filled with rich kids who slacked off but bought their way in. I believed Ivy and started skipping classes to hang out with them at Cyber Zone Lounge. We measured status by gaming prowess, and I became the best of them. But I hadn’t realized they were all wealthy. By senior year, they transferred to private international programs or left for prestigious overseas schools, ready to inherit family businesses. My parents, though, were just regular workers. Without good grades, I had no future except assembly lines. At Midland Assembly Plant, Trey Walters—a worker with bleached blond hair—took an interest in me. I mentioned it to Ivy, who cheered me on. “True love is priceless,” she said. “If Trey loves you, that’s all that matters. Love conquers all.” I believed her. Trey and I moved in together, had a baby without a wedding, and barely signed the marriage certificate. Once married, Trey started beating me. Drunk, he’d mock me. “You and Ivy came from the same parents. Why is she so brilliant while you’re as dumb as a pig?” I cried bitterly, wondering where I had gone wrong. I used to be the smartest one—the girl who could solve problems at a glance, memorize pages instantly. My middle school teachers couldn’t believe I had failed my SATs.

My tragic fate culminated in a difficult labor. Trey refused a C-section, resulting in both my baby and me dying. On my deathbed, I called Ivy endlessly, but she claimed she was too busy. The moment I passed, she showed up. At my funeral, people shook their heads, saying, “How did such a bright girl end up like this?” Ivy put on a show of grief. “Hazel was so smart but wasted her potential. Her downfall was her own fault. Unlike me, I worked hard and changed my fate through perseverance.” Once everyone left, Ivy gloated over her victory. Turns out, Ivy had always been jealous of me. As a child, I was the center of our parents’ attention. Her envy consumed her. She manipulated my trust and orchestrated my downfall. This time, I wouldn’t fall for her tricks. I wrote “I will get into Harvard-MIT” in bold letters and taped it above my desk. Opening my freshman-year textbooks, I started from the first page. By 3 a.m., I’d finished two books, every concept burned into my memory. I caught two hours of sleep before heading to school at dawn. By the time my classmates arrived, I’d already memorized both volumes of freshman English vocabulary. “Hazel Bright’s actually studying? That’s a first!” “Only six months until the SATs. Even if she tries, the best she can hope for is community college.” “With her grades? A state school’s out of reach. She’ll end up in some overpriced private college at best.” I ignored the chatter. My scores would do the talking. Ivy showed up late as usual, barely beating the bell. “Hazel, why didn’t you wake me up this morning?” she complained. “I’ll be at school by 5 a.m. from now on. Set your own alarm if you want to join me.” Ivy looked puzzled. “Why would you get here so early? You don’t even study.” From behind me, Ethan Carrington chimed in. “Your sister’s been up since dawn memorizing vocab. She’s already gone through two books. Something’s seriously up with her.” Ivy froze, then exploded, “Hazel, we’re just here to get a degree. After we graduate, we’ll both head to Midland Assembly Plant. I’ve heard top workers make good money there—over $3,000 a month!” I pulled out my phone and played the video I’d recorded. “If the assembly plant’s so great, why are you sneaking in late-night study sessions?” Ivy’s face went pale. Ethan grabbed my phone and barked, “Ivy Bright! No wonder you always ditch our games midway. You’ve been secretly studying all this time!” “All that effort, and you still only scored 400 points? Guess your brain’s not built for this.” Ivy flushed with rage. She opened her notebook and tried memorizing vocab, but after ten repetitions, she still couldn’t get it. After school, I still went with the rich kids to the Cyber Zone Lounge. I wasn’t about to cut ties with them. Someday, they’d be valuable connections. In my past life, Ivy snatched up all the relationships I’d worked so hard to cultivate. This time, that wasn’t happening.

After leading my team to five straight wins, I rushed home. When I walked in, my parents immediately went on the offensive. “Well, look who decided to come home early! Didn’t you say you’d rather die at Cyber Zone Lounge than come back here?” “Why don’t you just stay there forever? Let’s see what kind of SAT scores you’ll pull off.” In my last life, my parents had tried everything to get me to study, but I blindly believed Ivy’s lies and rebelled. Eventually, they gave up on me, only making sure I wasn’t starving but otherwise washing their hands of me. After my death, though, they mourned for a long time. My mom was hospitalized from the grief. I dropped to my knees with a thud. “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry. I was so stupid before. I’ll study hard and get into a good college—I swear!” My mom turned to look at me, stunned. Then she quickly wiped her tears, pretending she wasn’t crying. My dad helped me up immediately. “It’s alright. You finally understand. I always knew you weren’t a bad kid at heart. There’s not much time left, but give it your all. If it doesn’t work out, we’ll figure something out—even if it means another year of preparation.” I nodded firmly. “Don’t worry. I’ll get in on the first try. I’m aiming for Harvard-MIT Alliance!” Ivy stepped out of her room holding her notebook. “Hazel, why are you back? Weren’t you gaming with Ethan and the others at Cyber Zone?” She walked up to me, fake innocence dripping from her expression, before dramatically pinching her nose. “Eww, Hazel, you reek of cigarettes! The smell is unbearable!” My mom leaned in, sniffed, and instantly slapped me across the face. “I knew it! You can’t change your ways, can you? Lying about studying, coming home stinking of smoke. With grades like yours, scoring 200 on the SAT, and skipping class to play games, if you can get into Harvard-MIT, then pigs might fly!” Disappointed, my dad sighed and followed my mom back to their room. Alone with me, Ivy dropped her mask. “Hazel, stop wasting your time. Six months isn’t enough for you to surpass me. I’ve been holding back; I’m not just a 400-point scorer.” I laughed coldly and walked to my room. Words wouldn’t convince anyone—I’d let my results speak for themselves. Weekly tests rolled around, and while I showed improvement, my scores were still far from passing. Ivy, on the other hand, dropped her façade and performed at her real level—second in the class and tenth in the grade. The homeroom teacher praised me, saying I had a shot at getting into a state college. I glanced at Ivy’s test papers. She hadn’t solved the hardest questions. Her brain just wasn’t built for it. Ivy shoved her paper in front of me, pointing at her scores. “Hazel, look! I got a perfect score in English and 129 in math. What about you?” She pretended to examine my scores. “Wow, a 59 in math? So close! If the test was out of 100, you’d be just one point away from passing. Too bad it’s out of 150, and passing is 90.” “Oh, and you’re so much better in reading and writing—60 in English! Your verbal scores definitely beat your math!” Ethan tried to console me. “Hazel, maybe studying isn’t your thing. You’ve stopped pulling all-nighters with us at Cyber Zone. Without you, we’re losing ranks like crazy!” Ivy jumped in with fake scolding. “Ethan, don’t say that about my sister. She’s aiming for Harvard-MIT!” The whole class erupted in laughter. “Seriously? Hazel Bright, the future Harvard-MIT scholar?” “With a total score under 400, she thinks she can get into Harvard-MIT? That’s hilarious!” “She must think she owns Harvard-MIT and can just waltz in whenever she wants.” Ignoring them, I pulled out a SAT prep workbook and got back to solving problems. Suddenly, my homeroom teacher, Mr. Gregory Nash, barged into the classroom, waving a stack of scratch paper. “Hazel, is this yours?” I nodded, confused. To my surprise, Mr. Nash hugged me. “You’re a genius, Hazel! An absolute genius!” “The principal always says I can’t teach beyond General Track students. But here I am, proving him wrong—teaching a future Harvard-MIT student!” Ivy froze in shock. “Mr. Nash, my sister’s scores improved, sure, but she only got 397. How could she possibly get into Harvard-MIT?” Mr. Nash patted my shoulder proudly. “She’ll make it. Hazel is the smartest student I’ve ever taught.” Ethan muttered, “Is Mr. Nash losing it?” Mock exam results came out, and the school rankings were posted in the hallway. Ivy ranked 20th in the grade. I placed 988th. Ivy immediately seized the chance to mock me. “Wow, Hazel! You’ve improved so much—up to 988th! Harvard-MIT is just around the corner!” Laughter echoed through the halls. The grade director, who had been watching, muttered, “Hazel Bright should be ranked first in the grade.” Ivy’s face twisted in anger. “Hazel’s scores are pathetic. Why does everyone believe in her? There’s no way she can go from 200 to 700 in six months!” Leaning close, I whispered, “Want to know why everyone believes I can make it to Harvard-MIT?” I spread out my test papers and answer sheets in front of her. Ivy’s eyes widened as she scanned them. “This can’t be real!” “It’s impossible! You must have cheated! I’m reporting you!” My answer sheet was a masterpiece. I’d ignored all the simple, basic questions but solved every difficult one, using elegant shortcuts. Ivy had only answered half of the questions I had—and she’d gotten some wrong. Grabbing my papers, she stormed into the principal’s office, bursting in without knocking. “Principal Price, I’m here to report Hazel Bright from 11-B for cheating on the mock exam!” Inside, the principal sat with several teachers, analyzing my test papers. Seeing us, Dr. Price gestured for me to join them. “Perfect timing, Hazel. We were just discussing your results. Can you explain why you left all the easy questions blank but solved the hardest ones so well?” “I didn’t want to discourage my peers. If I went all out from the start, my scores would be too intimidating. I’ll save my best performance for the final mock and the SATs.” I glanced at Ivy, whose face darkened. Mr. Nash laughed. “Exactly as I thought! Hazel’s strategy is brilliant.” Dr. Price made an immediate decision. “Both Hazel and Ivy are being transferred to the Honor Track.” I refused the transfer—it didn’t matter where I studied. Ivy, however, declined for one reason: she needed to stay close to sabotage me. After school, Ivy gathered Ethan and some others to corner me. “Hazel, let’s do an all-nighter at Cyber Zone tonight. I’ve got a big promotion match.” I agreed, leading them to five more wins before heading home. Just as I was leaving, a man, at least seven or eight years older than me, leaned over from behind and wrapped his arms around me. “Your moves are sloppy. Let me teach you.” The stink of body odor and cheap cologne made me gag as I slipped away. “Who the hell are you?” Ivy stepped forward. “Hazel, this is Rocco Delgado, the most powerful man around here. With him protecting you, no one would dare mess with you.” Rocco lit a cigarette, blowing smoke rings as if he were the star of some cheesy movie. “Hazel Bright, I like you. You’re my girlfriend now. Let’s go.” Ivy shoved my bag at me, grinning. “You’re so lucky, Hazel. I’ll cover for you with Mom and Dad.” Rocco reached for me, but I darted away. “Don’t touch me.” Rocco grinned, revealing yellowed teeth. “Quit playing hard to get. Your sister says you throw yourself at men all the time.” Ethan stepped between us, pulling me behind him. “I don’t care who you think you are, Rocco. Back off. Lay a finger on Hazel, and I’ll end you.” Rocco, furious at being challenged, lunged at Ethan, who held his ground.

The fight landed us all at Midtown Police Precinct. Ethan sported a few bruises, but Rocco looked worse—his nose broken as he whined to the officers. When my parents arrived, they were livid. “You’re not only ruining yourself, Hazel, but dragging Ivy down with you. How many times do I have to tell you to stop being a bad influence?” My mom tried to slap me again, but an officer stopped her. “Mrs. Bright, please calm down. Things aren’t what they seem.” Before the officer could explain, Ivy burst into tears. “Mom, I’ve been trying so hard to help Hazel. She’s improved her scores recently, so I thought if I kept her away from gaming, she could do even better. I saw her at Cyber Zone again tonight and tried to bring her home, but then she got involved with this guy, and things escalated.” “Maybe you should send her to Internet Addiction Rehab. Once she’s better, she can take the SAT again and aim for Harvard-MIT!” My mom sighed heavily. “Maybe that’s the only way. Hazel used to be so bright, but gaming has ruined her. I’ll call the rehab center tomorrow.” Ethan, head bandaged, rushed to defend me. “Mrs. Bright, Ivy’s lying! She’s the one who dragged Hazel to Cyber Zone tonight. She even set Hazel up with Rocco, trying to force her into being his girlfriend. Hazel refused, and that’s why I stepped in!” Ivy’s face turned pale as she stammered, “Ethan, I know you like Hazel, but you don’t have to make up stories for her. Why would I ever associate with someone like Rocco?” “If Hazel’s such a saint, why does Rocco say she’s been hanging around him for ages?” My mom, without waiting to hear more, slapped me. “I’m so disappointed in you, Hazel. If you won’t focus on school, at least stop hanging out with these kinds of people. You’re going to Internet Addiction Rehab tomorrow. And you’ll cut ties with Rocco.” Behind my mom, Ivy smirked triumphantly.

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Adrian pointed at the row of clothes on the rack and instructed me, “Try them on for me, one by one.” I replied, “Sure thing.” Quite the playboy, aren’t you? When I changed into a red sheer uniform, his gaze became intense. I’m just a stand-in, trying on clothes so he can find traces of his ideal lover in me… He said he wanted someone both innocent and seductive. I can act that out – acting is what I do best! “Move in with me. I’ll transfer money to your account monthly,” Adrian said to me. Although I consider myself attractive with a great personality and no bad habits, I didn’t think I was worthy enough for a handsome CEO of a listed company to offer to pay for my company. One should always be self-aware. When good fortune falls into your lap, don’t rush – remember to ask why. “Are you sure you’ve got the right person? I’m Lily.” Adrian didn’t even look at me. “I’m not blind.” “Besides keeping you company, is there anything else I need to do?” “What else can you do?” Adrian continued to keep his head down, casually signing a few documents. I was left speechless. “One last question,” I swallowed hard, hesitating as I chose my words: “You’re offering me so much money per month. You don’t have any… special preferences, do you?” Adrian finally looked up, his narrow eyes peering at me through his gold-rimmed glasses. “Such as?” Thinking of some unhealthy scenarios I’d read in novels, I counted on my fingers as I gave examples: “Like… some light BDSM or something?” Adrian: “…No.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll move in tonight!” I’m not usually one to take shortcuts. As a D-list actress, I once had dreams too. But dreams don’t put food on the table, pay off debts, or cover my mom’s expensive hospital bills. I need money. Although I occasionally feel conflicted about taking this shortcut, I remind myself that even a boyfriend might not be as handsome as my sugar daddy. I feel like I’m going to wake up laughing from this dream. What more could I ask for? That evening, I moved into Adrian’s villa in Westbrook. The villa was huge. I obediently followed the housekeeper, Mrs. Thompson, as she led me to the guest room with my luggage. Mrs. Thompson had a kind face and kept smiling at me. Just as she was about to speak, I interrupted her. “Were you going to say I’m the first girl the boss has brought home?” Mrs. Thompson was surprised. “How did you know?” Of course, it was my years of experience reading romance novels that told me. But it was actually true? Soon, I understood why Adrian had chosen me. On the night I was prepared to give myself to him, Adrian led me into a walk-in closet in the villa. He pointed at the rows of uniforms and dresses on the racks and instructed, “Try them on for me, one by one.” I said, “No problem.” Let alone changing clothes, I’d be willing to do a striptease on the spot if he asked. Thanks to my acting experience, I was familiar with uniforms and changed quickly. As long as he showed no reaction, I immediately moved on to the next outfit. When I changed into a red sheer uniform, Adrian told me to stop and call his name. Suddenly, it all made sense. I understood. Thanks to all those romance novels that had educated me so well. In an instant, I was certain that I was being used as a stand-in. He had me try on one outfit after another, looking for the one that would evoke the feeling she gave him. I swayed in the sheer outer layer of the uniform, as thin as a cicada’s wing, thinking to myself, his ideal lover likes to wear uniforms? That’s quite different. I just wonder which part of me resembles her – my voice? My figure? A similar face? And I wonder when his ideal lover will return. But even after calling his name until my voice went hoarse, Adrian remained motionless. I couldn’t help but suggest, “How about I act it out? I’m an actress, a professional.” Adrian thought for a moment before making his request: “I want someone who’s both innocent and seductive.” Well, if that’s what you like, you should have said so earlier. I quickly adjusted my voice and expression, then called his name: “Adrian.” Adrian: “Have you ever considered that there might be a reason why you’re not famous?” That felt like an arrow to my knee. His voice was hoarse: “Call me again.” I obediently called out: “Adrian.” Adrian picked me up in his arms and carried me to his bedroom. I’m 5’9″ and weigh about 100 pounds, but he walked steadily. His bedroom was spacious, and so was the bed. Before I could admire his king-sized bed or feel the soft memory foam mattress, Adrian started tugging at my uniform. I said, “The clothes look expensive. Take it easy, will you?” Adrian replied, “You should worry about yourself.” An hour later, I felt like I was worth less than the uniform. There were two used condoms in the trash can, and my legs were trembling. Adrian turned on the night light and leaned against the headboard. The warm yellow light traced the curves of his face, highlighting his perfect nose bridge and thin lips. There was a mole at the corner of his narrow eyes, giving him a distant look, completely different from the passionate man he had been in bed moments ago. Adrian reached for a box of cigarettes. “May I smoke?” the sugar daddy asked me. Of course, the sugar daddy could do whatever he wanted. I said, “Give me one too.” We smoked our post-coital cigarettes in silence. As I was about to get up to find the bathroom, Adrian rolled over and pressed himself on top of me again. I blushed and my heart raced as I asked him, “What’s wrong?” He whispered, “One more time.” “You can go anywhere in the house except the study,” Adrian said as he stood by the bed, fastening the last button of his suit, back to his usual executive look. I lay in bed, feeling a bit weak as I nodded and said, “Okay.” That fits – there must be secrets about his ideal lover in the study that he doesn’t want others to see. I’m not very curious and definitely won’t go there. Besides, today I just want to stay in bed. Suddenly remembering something, I asked timidly, “Can I sleep here?” Adrian looked puzzled. “Is the bed not comfortable?” I waved my hand. “No, it’s not that. Isn’t it usually the case that the kept woman can’t sleep in the sugar daddy’s bed? The sugar daddy’s bed is only for…” Adrian asked, “Only for what?” Only for the ideal lover. Of course, I didn’t say the words “ideal lover” out loud. In romance novels, the ideal lover is usually off-limits for the male lead. I changed the subject: “Only for you to sleep in.” Adrian looked down at me. “My bed is quite large.” Probably meaning one more person wouldn’t make much difference. He picked up his phone from the bedside table and reminded me before leaving: “Read fewer romance novels.” Me: … Adrian was a good sugar daddy. Apart from liking to mock me and wanting me to change into a uniform before sex, he had no other strange habits. We not only had harmonious interactions in bed but also communicated well outside of it. He would even glance at the soap operas I was watching and say, “This lead actress’s acting isn’t as good as yours.” Looking at the lead actress’s exaggerated expressions… Thanks, I guess. It’s a compliment, but not entirely. When we came across a particularly melodramatic plot, he couldn’t help but criticize: “No wonder the TV department’s net profit is so low this year.” Sometimes when he saw me playing Ring Fit Adventure at home, he would connect his console and play the two-player mode with me. In the end, I would be panting and exhausted like a dog, while he seemed to have barely broken a sweat. He looked at me and smirked: “You’re so out of shape. No wonder you pass out after three rounds.” I retorted: “You look so handsome when you smile.” Adrian was taken aback, the tips of his ears turning slightly red. My relationship with Adrian as sugar daddy and sugar baby was more like roommates sleeping in the same bed. Late at night, my roommate’s stomach growled, successfully waking me up. With bleary eyes, I asked, “Should we wake up Mrs. Thompson to make you something to eat?” Adrian said, “No need. Mrs. Thompson is resting. Let her sleep.” Although Adrian was rich, he didn’t have any of the bad temper often associated with wealthy people. Even when he was so hungry his stomach was rumbling, he didn’t want to wake up the sleeping housekeeper. This was quite different from the stereotypical CEO in novels. Hearing his response, I turned on the light, wide awake now, only to find Adrian’s forehead covered in cold sweat. I was startled: “What’s wrong?” Adrian revealed a pained expression: “Stomachache. I had some drinks earlier.” I knew Adrian had stomach problems. Although he was a second-generation rich kid who inherited the family business and hadn’t experienced the hardships of starting a business from scratch, he worked very hard. Often, I would wake up after a nap to find the light in his study still on. His assistant had mentioned to me a few times that Adrian had a weak stomach and asked me to remind him to eat. He had come back from a business dinner tonight, and I thought he had eaten, so I didn’t remind him. “I’ll go get you some medicine.” Following the principle of not letting my sugar daddy die of illness, I helped Adrian boil water and get his medicine. After watching him take it, I was no longer sleepy, so I went downstairs to make him some porridge. Having lived on my own for years, my cooking skills were quite good. Soon, the kitchen was filled with the fragrant aroma of porridge. I heard Adrian come downstairs and stand silently behind me. I said, “Wait a moment, it’s almost ready.” Adrian responded with a deep “Mm.” Then he stood behind me, motionless. Even with my back turned, I could feel his intense gaze. I thought to myself, stay calm, he must be thinking of his ideal lover. And I guessed that his ideal lover must have been a good cook. Considering how much he was paying me, I could cook for him a few more times, letting him reminisce a bit more. Just as I felt the gaze on my back intensifying, and I thought he was about to pounce on me. He simply walked to my side and pinched my cheek. After being kept by Adrian for over a month, apart from visiting my mom in the hospital and checking on my dad to make sure he hadn’t attempted suicide after his failed business venture, I entered a state of complete unemployment. I seriously asked my agent, Sam, about the dos and don’ts of getting along with a sugar daddy. And I more seriously recalled what the female leads in similar situations in novels usually did. The answer was, apart from falling in love and engaging in battles of wit with various women who appeared around the sugar daddy, they didn’t seem to do much else. At this moment, I also received Sam’s reply: “What’s there to pay attention to? Just make some money, be a heartless gold digger. Ask for gifts and pocket money, you know?” He also sent me a voice message: “Honey, men are temporary, but money will always be with you.” I thought about it and realized he had a point. However, given my relationship with Adrian, which was so peaceful that I felt embarrassed to ask him for more money. Finally, when I was so bored that I started taking walks in his big villa, Adrian, who was handling business in the living room, finally noticed me. He asked, “Do you need something?” I scratched my head: “Sort of, but not really.” Adrian said, “If you don’t have anything to do, come over here and pick a script to act in.” Huh? Pick a script? I can still act? Wait, I’ve never picked a script before. Usually, scripts pick me, and they’re quite picky about it too. I quickly moved to Adrian’s side and looked at several scripts on his tablet. They were all big IPs. I get to choose which one to act in? Is this the joy of taking shortcuts? The corners of my mouth were about to reach my temples. Adrian, as if guessing what I was thinking, coldly said from the side, “I don’t want to lose money, so just find a supporting role to play. Don’t even think about the lead role.” Oh, excuse me. But a supporting role is fine too! I’ve never been in such a big IP production before. In the end, considering Adrian’s opinion, I decided to audition for two scripts. Adrian nodded and sent a message to his assistant to give the directors a heads-up. I stared at his profile, with gratitude and confusion written all over my face. “I have a question, but I’m not sure if I should ask?” Adrian said, “You shouldn’t.” I pretended not to hear and continued to express my curiosity: “Given our relationship, shouldn’t you be keeping me confined at home right now, only allowing me to accompany you, not work, not socialize, to avoid attracting others? After all, I have nothing but my beauty.” Adrian was speechless again. His thin lips parted slightly as he looked at me for a long time. Finally, Adrian said, “If I’ve committed a crime, let the law punish me, rather than having to listen to you narrate a cheesy romance novel here.” In the end, I was confirmed for a supporting role in a big IP production. I would play the prince’s loyal and secretly-in-love maid who ultimately dies for him. A likable character who is loyal, beautiful, brave, and not catty. On the day of the costume fitting photoshoot, even Sam seemed to be holding his head a little higher. There, I ran into Sam, an actress I had conflicts with in previous productions. She was also playing one of the prince’s maids, but with fewer scenes and a less likable character. Sam sneered at me and Sam, taunting, “Well, well, when one person rises to power, even their pets benefit. Found yourself a sugar daddy, didn’t you?” I touched my face and asked Sam, “Is it that obvious?” Sam’s face immediately turned ashen, too angry to speak. Sam, on the other hand, laughed like a cackling hen while holding his Birkin bag. I said, “Bro, tone it down a bit. You’re being too flamboyant.” He gave me a side-eye and quipped with a limp wrist, “My darling, one of my bags is worth more than her entire paycheck for this show. What’s she got to brag about?” Another episode in the “My Agent is Richer Than Me” series. I said, “Is there a possibility that my paycheck might be less than hers?” Sam patted me reassuringly: “But you have Mr. Adrian, don’t you?” I sighed, looking up at the late autumn sky. Indeed, now all I have is Mr. Adrian. Filming required traveling, and although it was just in the suburbs of the city, it wasn’t convenient to return to Westbrook every day as it was too far. This meant I would be living apart from Adrian for a while. The day before I joined the crew, Adrian was unusually enthusiastic. During a break, I asked, “Do you work out regularly?” Adrian: “Yes, every morning when you’re sleeping.” I felt dizzy, finally understanding what it meant when they say that people who are better than you are also working harder than you. Adrian ignored my half-dead expression and continued what he was doing earlier. I almost forgot whether I fell asleep or passed out in the end. The next day on set, I discovered that Adrian had hired a personal assistant for me, and my usually neglectful company had also sent PR staff to eagerly help me take photos. Sam asked, “How does it feel to take shortcuts? Awesome, right?” I smiled weakly, “It’s great, just exhausting.” Sam screamed, “Don’t brag to me!” Heaven knows, I was genuinely tired. At the same time, Adrian hadn’t contacted me for two days. Although I felt a bit lost, I thought to myself, this is normal. I had to constantly remind myself that I was just a stand-in, not his ideal lover. He didn’t need to talk to me every day. Until the third day, when he actively sent me a “?” message. Then he asked: In those romance novels you read, can you go this long without talking to me?

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