Category: English

Due to rising costs, I raised the price of cafeteria meals by 25 cents, which led to complaints. “School cafeterias are for little kids—they don’t even eat much. Why raise prices?” “How do we know the food he’s serving is fresh?” “This guy is just a greedy crook, trying to make money off us!” For the past three years, I’ve only used top-quality ingredients for school meals. I barely broke even, never making a single penny in profit. Now, I’m being labeled as greedy over 25 cents. I’m done. I won’t manage the cafeteria anymore. Months later, those same parents showed up at my restaurant. “Walter Monroe, we’re begging you to come back!” Content I was called into a meeting. Some parents had reported me to the District School Board, accusing me of price-gouging and serving stale food. They demanded the school terminate my cafeteria contract. When Ms. Helen Whitaker, the school director, told me this, she admitted she thought the accusations were baseless. “Ever since you took over the cafeteria, you’ve been using fresh ingredients, getting up before dawn to pick them out yourself. You’ve always prioritized the kids’ health with balanced meals. And now they’re calling you a greedy crook?” “The parents are adamant,” Helen said with a sigh. “They said if we keep you as the cafeteria contractor, they’ll cause a scene daily.” Her words left me fuming. Helen glanced at me with an all-too-knowing look. “Walter, we’ve got hundreds of students here. Adding 25 cents to every dish must be raking in quite a bit. Don’t be too greedy.” This was absurd. My temper flared. “Helen—” She waved me off impatiently. “Go home. We’ll discuss this at the next board meeting.” I stewed over her dismissive attitude all night. The next day, I stood firm. The prices stayed raised by 25 cents. Helen stormed into the cafeteria that morning. “Walter Monroe! Didn’t we just discuss this? Why haven’t you reversed the price increase? The parents are in an uproar!” She thrust her phone in my face, showing me messages from the PTA Chat Group. Calvin Bradshaw Sr. was leading the charge: “Why are the meal prices still raised? Is the administration ignoring our feedback?” Marissa Collins chimed in: “The cafeteria at Riverbend Charter Academy charges less! Walter Monroe is just a greedy crook!” Tamara Caldwell was more aggressive: “If the school doesn’t handle this, we’ll escalate to the District School Board. Let’s see how they explain letting this slide!” I scrolled through their messages, speechless. I hadn’t raised prices once in three years. At best, I barely broke even after covering costs. My family had been urging me to quit this contract for years. But I stuck with it because these were kids. As long as I wasn’t losing money, I thought I would ensure they had healthy meals. Was worth it And yet, here I was—labeled greedy over a measly 25 cents. The parents could easily spend hundreds on a meal at a fancy restaurant. How could they lose their minds over a quarter? I told Helen to add me to the PTA Chat Group. If they wanted answers, I’d give them. Walter Monroe: “Dear parents, Due to rising costs, I had to raise prices by 25 cents to continue serving fresh and healthy meals. If you think I’m lying, please visit Hillside Farmer’s Market and check prices yourself.” The backlash was swift. Calvin Bradshaw Sr.: “Please. Everyone at the market knows you—they’d never tell us the truth. You’re all in on it together.” His comment unleashed a flurry of agreement. Marissa Collins: “Exactly! He’s colluding with the vendors to scam us!” Benjamin Harper: “I doubt the food is even that fresh. It can’t cost much to make those meals.” Tamara Caldwell: “Three years with no price changes, and now this? Something’s fishy. We only agreed to let him run the cafeteria because the food seemed decent then.” I kept trying to explain. Walter Monroe: “Parents, the price increase is solely due to rising costs. Even with the change, a vegetable dish costs $1, and a meat dish $2.50. That’s still incredibly cheap.” “I haven’t earned a cent in profit over three years. I only raised prices because I couldn’t sustain it anymore.” But Calvin shot back: “Spare us the sob story. If you didn’t make money, why keep the cafeteria? Who knows how much ‘black-hearted’ money you’ve already pocketed.”

I wanted to punch something. It was impossible to reason with people like Calvin. Running the cafeteria was all about conscience, not profit. For three years, I hadn’t earned a dime. I got up before sunrise every morning, trudged to Hillside Farmer’s Market, and haggled with vendors over pennies to get the freshest ingredients. My days were an endless cycle of chopping, cooking, sanitizing dishes, serving meals, and scrubbing everything clean—leaving me so exhausted I could barely stand. Sure, I could cut corners. I could use bulk suppliers or cheap frozen meat to lower costs. But how could I serve kids subpar food? Did they think I was going through all this trouble just to earn 25 cents per plate? Meanwhile, the PTA Chat Group kept piling on. “I Cafeteriaontracts rake in at least $15,000 a year.” “No wonder he’s so desperate to stay on. No way he’s losing money.” “He probably feeds the kids garbage just to make a buck!” “Kick him out already!” Their ridiculous accusations almost made me laugh. Their creativity in twisting facts was impressive. I had the skills and integrity to run a successful restaurant. Managing the school cafeteria was a passion project, not a cash grab. And yet, here I was—painted as a villain. Some parents defended me. “It’s normal for meal prices to go up. Everything’s getting more expensive.” “Walter’s just trying to make a living like anyone else. Twenty-five cents isn’t much.” But others drowned them out with more venom. “If it’s so cheap, why don’t you cover the cost for all our kids?” “Other schools haven’t raised prices—why should he?” “What makes his cafeteria so special?” No matter what I said, it was brushed aside. They didn’t realize most cafeterias reused leftover food as long as it wasn’t spoiled. For three years, I’d only served fresh meals. Not once had I compromised on quality. Students who wanted seconds always got them for free, as long as they didn’t waste food. I’d done everything possible to ensure these kids ate well and stayed healthy. But to these parents, I was just a greedy crook. Fine. I’d had enough. “Fresh food? Balanced nutrition? If you think I’m greedy over 25 cents, don’t expect me to care about any of that anymore!” I snapped in the chat. The group exploded. “You can’t do that! These are kids—nutrition is critical!” “How can they study if they’re not eating well?” “We want our kids to thrive! That’s your responsibility!” Helen tapped my shoulder, signaling me to calm down. I swallowed my rage and typed a final message. Walter Monroe: “I guarantee the 25-cent increase is only to cover rising costs. I’m not profiting at all. Please trust me—I’ll ensure your kids are well-fed and healthy.” Calvin’s response cut deep. “If you’re not profiting, why are you so desperate to stay? Are you planning to take it out on the kids?” That was it. I was done. “I won’t manage this cafeteria anymore.”

Ms. Helen Whitaker tried to smooth things over in the PTA Chat Group. “Parents, I can assure you that this incident was Walter Monroe’s mistake. I will personally oversee his work moving forward. Let’s give him a chance to make things right.” She even posted a public reprimand and attached a written apology I had to draft. That seemed to settle things—for a while. But just a few days later, chaos erupted again. A group of furious parents stormed into the cafeteria. Calvin Bradshaw Sr., as usual, led the charge. “I knew it! You’re not just greedy—you’re trying to take revenge on us by poisoning our kids!” “Let’s trash this place!” he bellowed. “Make him pay for what he’s done!” Without hesitation, they began smashing chairs, tables, and kitchen equipment, leaving the cafeteria in complete disarray. I ran to intervene, but Calvin shoved me to the ground. He grabbed my shirt collar and waved a paper in my face, his anger boiling. “My kid came home yesterday throwing up and having diarrhea after eating here. The hospital confirmed it—food poisoning!” Tamara Caldwell shrieked, “My daughter Lila had a stomachache too. Same diagnosis—food poisoning. We’re not letting this monster off the hook!” Before I could respond, Calvin swung at me, landing a solid punch. Other parents joined in the attack. My pregnant wife, Lydia, tried to pull them off me, only to be shoved aside. Seeing her stumble, I lost it. I pushed them back and shielded her. “I’m calling the police. None of you are getting away with this.” That stopped them in their tracks. Benjamin Harper sneered, “Fine! Call them! Let’s see who the cops believe—you or us. Your poison food hasn’t been accounted for yet.” I wasn’t worried. I handpicked yesterday’s ingredients, ensuring everything was fresh. Moreover, I always kept meal samples for safety inspections. “Accusing me of poisoning your kids? Do you have proof? There are hundreds of students eating here every day—why is it just your kids who got sick? You’re just making this up to scam me for money!” I shot back. “In three years of running this cafeteria, no one has reported food poisoning. Every health inspection has been spotless.” Calvin thrust the paper in my face. “My kid didn’t eat anything else after leaving school. It had to be your food.” He turned to the other parents. “Isn’t that right? The kids ate here and went straight home—nothing else. Who’s with me?” The crowd rallied behind him, voices rising in agreement. Marissa Collins added, “Think about it! Our kids eat here every day. Can you trust this guy anymore?” Their accusations ignited a mob mentality. I stared Marissa down. “Can you swear your kid ate nothing on the way home? Any snacks, a drink from somewhere? Are you all 100% certain the cafeteria is to blame?” I didn’t wait for a reply. “I’ve already called the police and the health department. We’re getting to the bottom of this—and I’m holding everyone accountable.”

Shortly after, the police and the health inspectors arrived. We all headed to the Health Inspection Agency for testing and questioning. The results came back quickly: the cafeteria’s food was perfectly safe. Calvin Bradshaw Sr. sheepishly approached me, wringing his hands. “Walter, I was just worried about my kid. You know how it is—I overreacted. Don’t take it personally.” Marissa Collins chimed in with a saccharine smile. “Walter, you’re about to become a dad yourself. Sure, you understand our panic. We didn’t mean to take it so far.” Oh, so now they wanted to play nice? Not a chance. “I filed the police report, and you smashed up my cafeteria. I expect full compensation for the damages and a formal apology.” They froze, stunned that I wasn’t backing down. Calvin tried to rally the group. “Our kids got sick from his food! Isn’t that right, everyone?” Benjamin Harper loudly agreed, shooting knowing glances around. The parents quickly fell in line, insisting the cafeteria caused their kids’ illnesses. Their coordinated lies were laughable, but the police didn’t buy them. After some investigation, the real story emerged. The doctor treating their children explained, “This isn’t food poisoning. The children drank contaminated water—likely from the nearby creek.” The parents’ bravado faltered. Calvin weakly protested, “But they drank the school’s water…” I didn’t let him finish. “The cafeteria uses the school’s water supply. You should take it up with the school if you think it’s contaminated. Don’t pin this on me.” The police pressed further and learned the truth: the kids had a water-drinking water-drinking creek. after school “Now that we’ve established the cause, let’s address the damages to the cafeteria,” the officer said firmly. My wife, Lydia, handed over an itemized list of everything they’d broken. The parents grudgingly paid for the repairs. Despite the compensation, my heart sank as I surveyed the wreckage. Cleaning up the mess would take hours, and the students would be left without meals for the day. Thankfully, it was a weekend. Then Helen showed up. “Walter, how could you demand money from the parents? You need to return it immediately.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Helen, I haven’t made a single cent running this cafeteria. If you want me to return the money, you must cover my losses yourself.” She glared at me. “Walter, if you want to keep running this cafeteria, you’ll have to suck it up. Even if they’d beaten you to a pulp, you’d have to take it.” That was the last straw. “There are six months left on my contract. I’ll pay the penalty for breaking it early, but I’m done.”

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At the company’s celebration banquet where bonuses were being distributed. My wife and her father publicly humiliated me, calling me worthless and a burden to everyone. They even forcibly handed over my nearly-completed Oldom Royal Family project to her ex-boyfriend. Instead of getting angry, I laughed and decided to hand over my CEO position to him as well. “Why stress over these stupid drones? Here, you can be the CEO instead!” I declared. Everyone in the company thought I’d lost my mind. What they didn’t know was that I held the core algorithm for the drone swarm control system. Without me, their precious money-making drone fleet would turn into nothing but a swarm of useless metal locusts. The company would face a hundred-billion liability claim from the Oldom Royal Family, leading to overnight bankruptcy! Camila Winthrop, my wife, stood on stage, affectionately holding Oliver Taylor’s hand. “Oliver, the Winthrop Group owes its success largely to you,” she declared. “This year’s entire bonus is yours.” She handed him a check for five million dollars. Thunderous applause erupted from the audience. Camila’s father, Vincent Winthrop, nodded approvingly while our colleagues swarmed forward, playfully cheering the pair on. “With Mr. Taylor at the helm, our group’s international success is just around the corner!” “Ms. Winthrop and Mr. Winthrop really have an eye for talent. And Ms. Winthrop and Mr. Taylor? They’re more in sync than most married couples!” I stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the joyous scene unfold, my technical proposal crumpled in my clenched fist. Today was supposed to be the group’s celebration and bonus distribution. But just as I arrived at the company’s conference hall, Camila received a phone call. Apparently, there was a malfunction in the drone system that required my attention at the test flight facility. After years of marriage, I trusted her without question. Before I could even grab a bite to eat, I rushed to the facility. Under the scorching heat of nearly 104 degrees Fahrenheit, my team and I spent the entire day troubleshooting. But seeing Camila give a bonus as a whole to Oliver, an intern who’d been here less than a month, everything became crystal clear. The system malfunction was nothing but an excuse to get me out of the way. She was ready to hand over my three years of hard work, my life’s achievement, straight to her first love. Oliver pretended to notice me just then, feigning surprise. “Oh, Mr. Langley, you’ve finally arrived? We thought you might not make it, so everyone started without you. You don’t mind, do you?” His words were polite, but his eyes held a clear challenge as he deliberately waved the numbered check in my direction. Camila shot me an impatient glance. “Rylan, what’s with that look? Did you expect the chairman and everyone else to wait just for you? No wonder you dragged your feet with every project bid. You’re nothing but deadweight, holding everyone back. Since you’re here, you can hand over the Oldom project to Oliver right now. At least then, we won’t have to worry about you messing things up.” I clenched my fists at her imperious command, my heart turning to ice. The Oldom project she spoke of so casually was a massive undertaking that I, along with my team, had spent three years preparing and winning the bid for. It practically embodied my life’s work. The Crown Prince of Oldom was incredibly generous, providing a down payment of five million dollars. But to ensure the stability of thousands of drones operating simultaneously in the desert environment, I had countless sleepless nights. The endless trips to Oldom, the jet lag, the multiple stomach bleeds… I’d endured it all. Now, just as the project was entering its final phase, Camila wanted to snatch it away with a few casual words and hand it to her first love. I couldn’t help but laugh at how pathetic my dedication had been. Ten years ago, the Winthrop Group was on the brink of bankruptcy, unable to even pay their workers. Camila took over with plans for transformation, announcing her vision to develop drones. Without hesitation, I quit my cushy tech job and invested all my savings to build this dream with her from scratch. But with her background in fashion design, she couldn’t even understand basic control code, let alone handle drone development. For years, I had been the sole backbone of the company’s core technology. Every algorithm patent bore my name. Every technical challenge required my attention to solve. When we were struggling with initial funding, Vincent refused to help, looking down on me. My parents sold their house and their life savings to keep us afloat. That was what brought the Winthrop Group back from the dead. Only then did marriage with Camila become a topic of discussion. But I wasn’t to be a husband, and I was to be a “married-in husband,” taking her family name. Vincent always sneered at my humble origins. He acted like the mighty Winthrop family was doing me a huge favor by letting me marry into their family. Every time we met, he’d make snide remarks about how I was riding on his daughter’s coattails, saying a married-in husband should know his place. I didn’t care back then because I was head over heels for Camila. I was willing to sacrifice everything for her. But I never expected that after just a few business trips abroad with Oliver… He’d effortlessly steal all the credit for my work. Camila and I have been married for ten years. Yet somehow, I still rank below her ex, who treated her like dirt. And today, she finally managed to wear away the last shred of affection between us. After a long silence, I finally spoke, my voice neutral. “Fine. Do as you wish.” Oliver couldn’t hide his smug grin, though he put on a show of false modesty. “Ms. Langley, I’m just an amateur. How could I dare take over your international billion-dollar project? I heard you’ve been struggling with it for nearly three years. I just want to help out.” Camila placed her hand gently on his shoulder. “Oliver, you’re our overseas graduate! If you can’t handle this project, no one in the company can!” Vincent added with authority, “Exactly. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re better than that loser anyway.” I nearly burst out laughing. Oliver’s degree was nothing but a piece of paper. During his interview, he couldn’t even grasp basic control theory. But the Winthrop family was dead set on backing him, paying him an astronomical salary. After consoling Oliver, Camila turned to mock me. “Rylan, with your abilities, do you think you’d be where you are today without me? You’ve had it too good for too long. You’ve forgotten your place. You’re even making a fuss about handing over a project. If Oliver hadn’t put in a good word for you, Dad and I would’ve kicked you out long ago!” I laughed coldly inside. Camila seemed to have forgotten entirely how the company couldn’t even operate their drones when I solved every technical problem. Not only did I contribute patents, but I also built and trained the technical team from scratch. Now that the Winthrop family had made it big, they weren’t just ungrateful. They saw me as a burden. They kept rambling on, making me sound like the Winthrop family’s biggest disgrace. Taking a deep breath, I strode toward Oliver under Camila’s contemptuous gaze. Everyone’s eyes darted between us, probably thinking this pushover son-in-law was finally going to snap. But I just smiled calmly. I took out a CEO transfer document from my bag and tossed it at Oliver’s feet. “Managing a few thousand drones must be exhausting. Why don’t I just make you CEO instead!”

For a moment, the entire room went silent, everyone staring at me in disbelief. The Winthrop Group executives began whispering amongst themselves, assuming I must be spouting nonsense out of desperation. After all, everyone in the company knew that I had dedicated myself tirelessly for the past decade, with no expectation of reward, to achieve our current success. “Mr. Langley, you’re the company’s second-in-command! It’s just one project. Don’t throw away your future over a momentary impulse!” Hearing this, Camila seemed to think I was threatening her, and her face flushed with anger. “Rylan, have you lost your mind?” she spat. “How dare you lose your temper after just a few words of criticism? You’ve really crossed the line! Let me remind you, you’re only the nominal CEO. I’m the one who truly controls this group!” I laughed inwardly. She should be overjoyed that I was handing over the CEO position. Wouldn’t it be a dream come true for Camila to see her beloved first love rise to the top? Oliver clutched the CEO position transfer document tightly, a glint of greed flashing in his eyes. Yet, he feigned a selfless and righteous posture, saying, “Mr. Langley, are you offering me the CEO position in a moment of anger? Please don’t misunderstand. Camila was just trying to help me catch up on the schedule by lending a hand. It’s all for the sake of Winthrop Group. “Besides, how dare I replace you? You’re a veteran of the group. The CEO position is not something a newcomer like me can aspire to. Everyone knows how dedicated you’ve been to the company all these years. The CEO position rightfully belongs to you.” As he spoke, Oliver made a gesture to return the transfer document to me. But his hand remained firmly pressed against the document as if afraid I would actually take it back. Seeing his two-faced act, I smiled faintly, “Why would I be angry? You’re a highly educated overseas returnee. I’m overjoyed to have fresh blood in the group. I have complete confidence in you as CEO.” Camila gave me a suspicious look, then snorted coldly, “Oliver, since he’s offering to step down, just accept it. With your capabilities, the CEO position would be yours sooner or later anyway. There’s no question of whether you’re worthy or not. Everyone’s here, so they can all be witnesses.” As soon as she finished speaking, Oliver immediately stopped refusing and hugged the transfer document tightly, his eyes almost overflowing with greed. Watching him, I sneered inwardly. Camila, spending all her time flirting with Oliver, had no idea how technically challenging the Oldom project indeed was. I had spent an entire year tackling it, finally achieving a breakthrough in the formation control algorithm for desert environments. But they didn’t know that the core program was still on my encrypted hard drive, not yet handed over. Even if they stole it, without the basic annotations, it would take them half a year just to crack the code. Without me, how could they possibly pull off an aerial performance with tens of thousands of drones? The drone swarm they saw as a gold mine would turn into a man-eating locust swarm! Besides, Oliver probably didn’t realize that the CEO position wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Mastering the core technology also meant shouldering all the responsibility. For this Oldom project, the down payment alone was five million dollars. If the performance failed, not only would they have to pay back the full amount, but they would also face the wrath of the royal family. Not to mention the fierce competition in this industry, rivals could completely crush the company because of one wrong move. Since they considered me useless, there was no need for me to remind them kindly. The day the project failed would be the day the Winthrop family faced utter ruin. Camila seemed a bit sheepish seeing me so readily step down. With a simulated cough and a haughty tone, she said, “Alright, Rylan, you can stop standing there. You’ll need to hand over your work anyway. We’re celebrating Oliver’s success tonight. Since you’re being so understanding, you can come along.” Her condescending tone almost made me laugh. If the Oldom project succeeded, the bonus would be at least tens of millions of dollars. They cut me out of the profit-sharing, and now they think a meal will make it all okay? What a joke! The thought of dining with a weasel-like Oliver made me sick. I was about to decline when Oliver chimed in, feigning sincerity. “Oh dear, Mr. Langley wasn’t around when I booked the private room, so I forgot to reserve you a seat. It’s my fault for not being thorough. I may have sprained my ankle today, but I should still take responsibility. Please have a seat. I’ll go get a chair from outside and buy some drinks.” I knew he was deliberately playing the victim, trying to score points with the Winthrop family. As expected, Camila immediately fussed over him, her voice full of concern as she guided him to a chair. “Oliver, you’ve done more than enough for the company. Such a huge project relies entirely on you. How can we let you do these errands?” She then shot me a disgusted look. “What are you waiting for? Don’t you have any common sense after all these years at the company? Either go buy the drinks, or don’t bother coming!” Her blatant double standards made me scoff inwardly. It was Camila, always taking me for granted. Back in the company, I worked day and night but was never included in any team dinners. Now they act like they’re doing me a favor. Oliver, pushing his luck, said with a smug grin, “Mr. Langley, I’m so sorry to trouble you. I’ll make sure to toast you properly later…” Before he could finish, I let out a cold laugh and kicked the leather executive chair right out from under him.

In the next instant, Oliver frantically dodged, only to trip over a chair. He crashed headfirst into the million-dollar holographic projector. The sound of shattering glass pierced the air. I watched him scramble to his feet, blood trickling down his forehead, and couldn’t help but sneer. “What, did the star student’s foot miraculously heal? That agility is quite something. Were you a tap dancer in a past life?” Camila froze as if doused with a bucket of ice water. Then, she rushed to Oliver’s side, her face filled with concern as she turned to me, roaring, “Rylan, have you lost your damn mind? What about the Oldom project if Oliver gets a head injury? I finally understand what’s going on with you today! You just can’t stand seeing Oliver be better than you, so you’re deliberately trying to sabotage this project, aren’t you?” I scoffed, my face full of disdain, “Jealous of an idiot? Please.” “And…” I continued, “I’ve already resigned. So don’t pull that bossy attitude with me. I’m done playing your games!” Camila trembled with rage, her eyes red-rimmed, about to retort. I strode out of the conference room without looking back. The sounds of the commotion and Vincent’s furious shouts faded behind me. I gathered my belongings from my office, my gaze lingering on the velvet gift box on my desk. I was lost in thought. It was a custom-made bracelet I had ordered from abroad. Originally intended as an anniversary gift for Camila. How ironic it seemed now. Staring at the bracelet, I couldn’t help but fall into a trance. Back in college, Camila was my goddess. I knew I was just an ordinary guy, not worthy of a high-class heiress like her. So I just silently adored her, running errands, buying her lunch, and even doing her homework. And, of course, she took me for granted, treating me like a spare tire. One day, I found a silver bracelet she had lost and tried to return it. But she threw it into a dirty ditch and told me to “step up” and be her boyfriend. Everyone said she was just lashing out because her first love had dumped her, taking revenge on me. But I refused to believe it. I doubled down on being good to her, convinced that one day, my love would win her over. Like a loyal puppy, I revolved around her 24/7. I showered her with gifts, always coming up with new surprises. Even after ten years of marriage, nothing changed. Our anniversary was always marked in my calendar, even though Camila never remembered it, let alone celebrated it. I knew she was never truly passionate about me, but I always believed she loved me in her way. Maybe this was just how she expressed love. So, I willingly accepted being a powerless CEO at the company and a live-in husband to the Winthrop family. I thought our life would continue to be happy and fulfilling. But I underestimated the power of her first love. It wasn’t until I saw her attitude towards Oliver, the unconcealed love in her eyes, that I realized my ten years of devotion were nothing but self-deception. Perhaps Oliver had held a place in Camila’s heart all along. And I was nothing more than a dispensable substitute. Just as I was about to throw away the gift, I bumped into Camila and her entourage returning to the office. “Well, well, Rylan, weren’t you quite the tough guy earlier?” she sneered. “Can’t you be a bit less petty and resort to such low tactics?” Camila stood in the doorway, arm in arm, with Oliver, a group of executives trailing behind them. I sneered inwardly, “Huh, this shameless pair really doesn’t bother hiding it.” Oliver gently tugged Camila’s sleeve and said with feigned concern, “Camila, Mr. Langley must want to apologize to you. Look at the bracelet in his hand. He probably prepared it specifically to beg for your forgiveness!” Camila paused, then scoffed, “Hah! Does he think he can win me over with a cheap bracelet? If Oliver hadn’t stopped me, I would have called security ages ago…” As she spoke, she reached out to grab the bracelet from my hand. I frowned and, acting preemptively, tossed the bracelet straight into the trash can. “You’re sick,” I said. “Even garbage is appealing to you. You should get that delusional disorder of yours treated.”

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I talked to my boss about online dating. Meeting in person was out of the question. She didn’t know her online boyfriend was an employee of the company… Recently, the boss had been in a bad mood. Everyone who sensed this was working diligently, even slacking off less than usual. The boss was working crazy overtime, and no one dared to leave before her. As a result, we all ended up working until 11 or 12 at night. I was so exhausted that I developed dark circles under my eyes, and my skin even worsened. To be honest, I was probably the only person in the entire company who knew the reason for the boss’s irritable behavior, but I couldn’t say anything. Because the boss had just gone through a breakup. Coincidentally, that “ex” was me. Only she didn’t know it yet. The cause of all this was that my online girlfriend of two years wanted to meet in person. I met her on Twitter. She had posted a plea for help with the title “Why can’t I find a boyfriend?” When I clicked on it, the content read: “I’m a woman, 175cm tall, 45kg, 25 years old, graduated with a master’s degree from a top university in China, majored in Management Science and Engineering. Currently, I’m the vice president of a listed company with an annual salary of at least a million. I have a car and a house, and I look like a goddess. I’m still single. What’s wrong with me?” The comment section was full of mockery. “Fishing post, confirmed.” “Is the OP living in a dream? A master’s degree from a top university, just about 25 years old, and already a vice president of a listed company? Please, at least make it believable before you brag.” “As we all know, the only way to become a vice president at such a young age is through family businesses. Unfortunately, these rich kids usually study abroad.” With a playful mindset, I commented below, “It might be mainly a looks issue. Post a photo and let’s see.” After posting, I exited the thread. But not long after, the original poster sent me a private message. “Hi, can I send it privately?” Me: “?” Although confused, as a drama lover, I couldn’t resist the temptation to see how this would play out. “Sure.” Then a photo came through from the other side. I spat my coffee all over the desk. What the hell, 175cm? I wouldn’t believe it even if you said 150cm. It was a mirror selfie, with a third of the face covered. Due to the angle, the head looked big and the body small. She was wearing black-framed glasses, making her look both unfashionable and unattractive. But I had to admit, there was nothing wrong with that face. Even though only a large part was visible, those lips, that nose, those eyes, everything screamed four words: “I am a beauty” Somehow, she looked oddly familiar. Internally screaming, “How can there be a woman in this world who is beautiful but doesn’t know it,” and with a helpful attitude, after zooming in and out three or four times, I typed furiously: “You need to learn how to dress and take photos. Change your glasses, switch to frameless ones, or better yet, wear contacts. Don’t take photos from this angle! Tilt your phone slightly, with the charging port closer to you. Change your skirt, wear something slightly shorter, black maybe…” The other side replied with a “Thank you very much.” After finishing my advice, I didn’t pay much attention to it. But this girl followed my suggestions and sent me her “homework” the next day. After I gave more guidance, she did the same on the third day, then the fourth day, and the fifth day. Just when I was getting impatient, she proactively asked to add me on SnapChat and even offered to pay me a consultation fee. With the mindset of “It’s stupid not to make money when you can,” I gave her my personal account. Then a familiar avatar added me as a friend. Isn’t this the little boss? My hand trembled, and I accidentally accepted the request. Feeling my heart sink, I quickly changed the settings to chat only. My brain rapidly tried to recall if I had accidentally filled in my personal account somewhere in the company. The other side was typing for a while, then came a message: “Thank you very much for your guidance and help these past few days. This is a small token of my appreciation.” Then came a transfer of $5,000, with a note “Voluntary gift.” I was speechless. I took a screenshot, compared it with the SnapChat account, and confirmed it was indeed the online beauty and also our company’s little boss. After internally shouting “Oh my god” for a while, I shamelessly accepted the money. After all, this was my personal account, and the little boss didn’t know it was me. In the days that followed, I continued to help her improve bit by bit. She made progress very quickly and soon was able to fully showcase her beauty. However, just when I was about to declare mission accomplished and bow out, this girl confessed to me. First came a love letter that I hadn’t written since high school. I skipped it and went straight to the end: “Actually, there’s something I’ve wanted to say for a long time. I like you.” Me: … My silence was deafening. Me: “Thank you so much!” Her: “Huh???” Then: “I really like you!” “I really appreciate it!” “No, I’m serious.” I replied: “I really appreciate it!” My teeth were starting to hurt. What’s wrong with this girl? The other side seemed to pause for a moment, then said: “Anyway, can you give me a chance to pursue you?” I didn’t reply. That night, I had a rare bout of insomnia. Then the next day, this girl started sending me messages every day saying “Good morning,” “Good afternoon,” “Good evening,” and things like “I’m going to work,” “I’m leaving,” “I’ve arrived,” “I’m about to start working,” and so on. Well, this is how this child pursues someone. I occasionally responded half-heartedly, and this kid was overjoyed. The situation took a turn about a month later. At the time, I was happily scrolling through photos of beautiful women and casually shared one with my good buddy, but my hand slipped, and I sent it to her instead. Me: “Haha, I like this so much, I want to lick it.” Me: “Video” Her: “?”

By the time I saw the message, it was too late to recall it. Although appreciating beauty is human nature, for some reason, I felt a bit guilty. At this moment, she suddenly sent a message: “Do you like this kind?” Then she sent a video. It should have been freshly recorded in the gym. It wasn’t the perfect muscle lines, but very white, with a beautiful mermaid line winding down and disappearing into the sports shorts below. As for the upper part… Well, very pink! The owner of the video seemed very shy, and her face was all red when it was caught on camera at the end. I got hard. Me: “Is there more? Give me some more!” Then she shyly sent over a few more videos. I admit, I had been corrupted by beauty. I never thought that the little boss, who usually looked so abstinent, would be so… well, in private. How should I put it? It felt strangely exciting. Just as I was enjoying it, she suddenly sent a message. “If you agree to be my boyfriend, I’ll record videos like this for you every day, enough for you to see your fill.” Most people pursue four things in life: money, power, fame, and sex. The first three had nothing to do with me, so the last one was quite tempting. Me: “… Well… I suppose it’s not impossible.” After all, it was just online dating. Of course, there were conditions. No going public, no changing profile pictures, no video calls, no meeting in person. She wasn’t very happy about it but still agreed. This went on for two years. As she became better at dressing up, I also ate better, and she could pull off various styles. Just when I thought these days would continue, this girl proposed to meet in person. Me: “Didn’t we agree not to meet in person? Just online dating, not involving reality.” She sounded very upset: “I know, I’m sorry, but I really want to see you.” I knew what she was up to. A few days ago, I had a college reunion. After I came back, a college classmate confessed to me. I rejected her once, and then she sent me a lot of creepy and disgusting messages. I exposed her on Instagram and ranted about it. Then I deleted and blocked her. Since we were dating, she could see it too. She wanted to meet in person and then publicly claim her territory. I knew very well why we couldn’t meet in person, so the answer was definitely no. After she pestered me for a week, I got a bit annoyed and suggested breaking up. This scared her, and she wilted like a frost-bitten eggplant, suddenly deflating. My phone showed incoming calls for the nth time. I sighed and silently flipped the phone face down on the desk. At this moment, my immediate superior, Luke Hughes, suddenly called me. “Gus, take this proposal to VP Taylor.” It was well known throughout the company that Luke had a crush on Ottilie Taylor. Usually, he would be eager to interact with her more. But recently, she had been in a bad mood. Last time he approached her, his well-intentioned but misguided attempt at comfort earned him a scolding, which was quite embarrassing. Since then, he stopped trying these unnecessary interactions. I hissed and gave a wry smile: “Mr. Hughes, I’m a level below her after all. Wouldn’t it be inappropriate to bypass the chain of command?” Ottilie Taylor was my online girlfriend. Although I had her contact information for work, I had never interacted with her. Moreover, this proposal had been delayed for a long time, and Ottilie Taylor was never satisfied with it. Even if she was in a good mood, it would still be criticized, let alone now. With her current mood, this was clearly sending me to take the blame. Luke rolled his eyes: “Just do what I tell you to do. Why so much fuss?” … Fine. Although I had practically seen everything online, I was still a bit nervous about interacting in reality. Especially at work, where she was known for being strict and quite assertive. — And quite sharp-tongued. After hesitating for a moment, I took out my phone. That day after I suggested breaking up, this girl had been apologizing constantly, clearly panicking, but I hadn’t replied. At the time, I was just being harsh when I suggested breaking up, and I hadn’t really looked at my messages since. Partly to avoid softening my stance, and partly to dampen her enthusiasm. Meeting in person was out of the question, but breaking up was feasible. After thinking for a moment, I sent a message. “We don’t have to break up, but can you be good? I really don’t like people who don’t keep their word.” She replied instantly: “Baby, you finally replied to me. I know I was wrong, I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again.” Then she sent a crying puppy emoji. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The person inside panicked for a moment, then cleared her throat: “Come in.” As soon as I entered, my gaze was drawn to Ottilie Taylor’s slightly red nose. Had she been crying? Noticing my gaze, she seemed a bit embarrassed and tapped the desk: “Are you here to submit the proposal? Put it here, you can go back now.” Her temper had clearly improved. Otherwise, she would have already reprimanded me for bypassing the chain of command. Previously, a colleague was fired for reporting directly to higher-ups. Although besides bypassing the chain of command, that colleague was also incompetent and disobedient, and was given severance pay in the end, it’s undeniable that bypassing the chain of command itself is a major workplace taboo. However, that proposal still didn’t pass muster and was sent back. Then Luke handed it to me again. I had no choice but to work overtime to revise it. But coincidentally, Ottilie Taylor was in a good mood today and left work on time. It was Friday, so the other colleagues who had been working overtime for a long time also left early. Soon, only the receptionist and I were left in the company. But I didn’t know how long it would take to finish this proposal, so I assured the receptionist that I would turn off the lights and lock the doors, letting her leave first. I don’t know how much time had passed when I heard the sound of the facial recognition lock at the door. I was startled, feeling a bit scared. Looking at the time, it was already 10 PM. At this hour, who could it be? Various office horror movies flashed through my mind. While trying to reassure myself that ghosts don’t exist, I instinctively held my breath, feeling a bit nervous and not daring to move from where I was. A familiar figure approached. When I saw the face clearly, I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. It was Ottilie Taylor. “Why are you here alone? Aren’t you going home?” Ottilie Taylor seemed very surprised that I was still working overtime. I gritted my teeth inwardly: It’s all because of you! “This proposal is quite urgent. I’m afraid if I finish it tomorrow, it still might not be feasible, so I thought I’d work overtime today to refine it a bit.” “Oh, that proposal.” Ottilie Taylor paused for a moment, then surprisingly walked straight towards me. “Let me explain it to you in more detail. It’ll be easier for you to revise.” I tensed up — because we had made up, I had been replying to messages. Finding it troublesome to keep opening my phone, I had switched to my personal account on the computer. What should I do? Ottilie Taylor walked over: “Open it and let me take a look.” My brain was spinning rapidly, while my hands moved slowly. Just as I was about to switch, Ottilie Taylor said: “Move over, I’ll…” “Wait a minute!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295216”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #励志Inspiring #重生Reborn #校园School #惊悚Thriller #后宫Harem

I was caressing a male model’s hand at the bar when I turned around and saw Ethan Shaw. Ethan Shaw, the sugar daddy who had kept me for five years. But we had broken up just yesterday. I had packed my bags and disappeared from his world without a fuss. And now he was frantically searching for me. I was caressing a male model’s hand at the bar when I turned around and saw Ethan Shaw. Ethan Shaw, the sugar daddy who had kept me for five years. But we had broken up just yesterday. I had packed my bags and disappeared from his world without a fuss. And now he was frantically searching for me. Today marked the fifth anniversary of my relationship with Ethan Shaw. I had meticulously prepared a candlelit dinner at home, and as usual, he brought me a gift when he returned. But this year was different – inside the carefully wrapped box was a ring. When I saw the ring, my heart skipped a beat, and unrealistic expectations quietly arose in my heart. However, he didn’t seem to have anything to say about it. So I obediently put the ring back in the box without asking any questions. Later that night, after we were intimate, he whispered in my ear, “Lily, I’m getting married.” He was getting married. From the day I got together with him, I knew this day would come eventually. The last time he was on the phone with his father in the bathroom, urging him to meet Miss Sullivan, I wasn’t actually asleep. But even though I knew the outcome, it still hurt when it actually happened. I turned away from him and secretly wiped my tears with my fingers. He held me tighter. “Lily, can you stay with me?” I couldn’t. We had agreed long ago that I would leave when he was to get married. This was the bottom line. Over the years, even in the deepest moments of our relationship, I had never wavered from this decision. “Ethan, I’ll pack my things tomorrow.” Ethan seemed surprised by my determination. He turned me towards him. “Lily Ross, you can’t leave me.” I reached out and touched his face, thinking about how I would never be able to touch his handsome features again, which made me sad. “Can you not get married then?” He didn’t answer, but it was already an answer for me. I hugged him. “We agreed on this long ago.” He still disagreed, arguing until the end. Finally, he asked me, “Lily, how will you live without me?” I sighed. “Ethan, I’m not the 22-year-old me anymore.” The year I met Ethan, I was exactly 22 years old. I had just graduated from film school and was tricked into signing a “slave contract” with an unscrupulous company. Every day, I had to flirt in live streaming rooms, and after the streams, I was arranged to accompany wealthy clients for dinner. That day was my birthday. After harvesting a wave of fans in the live streaming room, I was dragged by the company to accompany a client for dinner. At the dinner table, a fat old man put his hand on my thigh. I couldn’t stand it anymore and smashed a plate before running away, then hid on the street crying my eyes out. The high heels I had kicked off happened to land on the passenger seat of Ethan’s convertible sports car parked by the road. Before I could go pick up my high heels, the people the company sent to find me appeared behind me. With nowhere else to go, I got into Ethan’s car, and he drove me away from the scene. On the way, I cursed everyone from the company boss to the big shots in the live streaming room to the security guard at the company building while in Ethan’s car. I vented my frustration both verbally and physically. In the end, I fell asleep in Ethan’s passenger seat. When I woke up, Ethan was playing with his phone in the driver’s seat. My alcohol had worn off a bit, and I thought I shouldn’t just freeload in his car. So, I took a deep breath and mustered up the courage: “Um… how about I transfer some money to you?” Ethan was stunned for a moment, then opened his phone and held it out to me. I saw that the page displayed “Add as friend”.

I thought for a moment, maybe he didn’t want me to transfer money directly. So I added him as a friend and transferred all the $57.20 left in my account to him. I saw his brow furrow again. I was actually embarrassed too. It really wasn’t enough to give him just $57.20 after he had driven me around in his fancy sports car for so long. I opened my balance to show him: “But, I really don’t have any more money.” As soon as I started explaining why I was so poor, I felt overwhelmed with grievance again, and cursed out the company boss once more. I don’t know if it was because he was impressed by my eloquence, or if he just wanted to do a good deed. Ethan offered to help me resolve my contract issues that day, and then suggested I follow him. I have to admit, Ethan really did have a handsome face, and even the cramped driver’s seat couldn’t hide his long legs. I’m not stupid. This deal was so good that I only asked him one question: “Do you have a girlfriend?” “No.” So I agreed to his proposal. From then on, I stayed by Ethan’s side for five years. During those five years, Ethan treated me very well and was very generous. I also obediently played the role of his “kept woman” by his side, without fighting or competing. Until he told me the news that he was getting married. After he left for work, I called a moving company and packed up all my things. Finally, I put all the credit cards he had given me on the table. Then I called my best friend Olivia and went to a bar. I felt like I had become a bit of a frog in a well after staying by Ethan’s side for so many years. Olivia also said I needed to see the wider world, so we ordered eight male models. We paid with my card. Olivia got drunk and laughed like an idiot in my ear. “Lily, look at their legs, their waists, their abs, and their hands. Lily, feel how soft their hands are!” I touched one. The next second I looked up and saw Ethan’s angry face. My first instinct was to run away. But the drunk Olivia grabbed me back, then pointed at Ethan: “Oh, Lily, this one is handsome too.” She started tugging at Ethan’s clothes, trying to feel his abs. Fortunately, I was quick enough to cover the corner of Ethan’s shirt that had been lifted. Then I quickly stopped the reckless Olivia, but she said generously: “Fine, you’re treating today, so I’ll let you have this one!” Ethan looked at me, his face even more displeased: “I didn’t realize you were so rich.” “Of course! Her sugar daddy just died, so now she has plenty of money.” Me: ?? Olivia, you’ve really said too much today! Besides, what I said was to just pretend my sugar daddy had died! Pretend! Not that he actually died! Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to explain to Ethan. Ethan simply picked me up by the waist, and before leaving I made sure to grab Olivia too – that’s what I call being loyal to my friends. When the three of us were squeezed into the back seat of Ethan’s luxury car, the atmosphere in the car suddenly dropped by several degrees. Ethan sat on my right with an ashen face. Olivia looked at Ethan with a flushed face, leaning across me: “He really is handsome, but Lily, didn’t you say you were going to bring three male models home tonight?” “I didn’t say that!” “You said…” Before Olivia could finish, I covered her mouth and stuffed the words back into her stomach. Ethan snorted coldly: “I didn’t realize you played around so much.”

I kept telling myself that Ethan and I were no longer together, so I shouldn’t feel guilty. Besides, “I’ve held back for so many years, can’t I indulge a little?” “Exactly!” Olivia said righteously, “You don’t know about her previous sugar daddy… he wasn’t…” As soon as the words “wasn’t good” came out, Ethan’s face became even more unpleasant. Then Ethan turned to the side and gripped my chin with his large hand: “Lily Ross, you’re saying I’m not good? Hm?” When he said this, because he was so close, I could clearly see the veins bulging on his neck, and even feel his rapid breathing. If Olivia hadn’t been there, I really couldn’t guarantee what he might have done. I was too choked up to respond. Olivia leaned in at the right moment and stared at Ethan’s face: “Come to think of it, you do look a bit like her sugar daddy. Don’t tell me you’re not good either?” Oh my god. Please say less. I quickly stopped Olivia. Then I smiled apologetically at Ethan: “Don’t mind her, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Fortunately, Olivia seemed to have tired herself out. After I covered her mouth again, she fell asleep soon after. The temperature in the car dropped even further after that commotion. I glanced at Ethan through the rearview mirror. His expression was very unpleasant. Probably sensing my gaze on him, Ethan said irritably, “It seems that all these years with me have been quite a hardship for you.” I didn’t respond. After all, he was the one who taught me that saying too much only leads to more mistakes. Seeing my silence, he suddenly turned to me: “Lily Ross! I say this, and you don’t even deny it? Do you really think being with me all these years has been such a hardship?” Me? That’s really not the case at all. “Olivia was just talking nonsense, don’t take her seriously.” Actually, it was when Olivia asked me what Ethan was like in bed that I got too embarrassed and brushed her off saying he was just okay. Thankfully, we finally arrived at Olivia’s apartment complex. I was staying with her temporarily since I had moved out so suddenly. I thanked Ethan, but found that he was following behind Olivia and me after we got out of the car. I didn’t quite understand: “Mr. Shaw, is there something else?” Ethan snorted coldly: “Mr. Shaw? We were sleeping in the same bed yesterday, and today I’m Mr. Shaw?” His voice was a bit loud, drawing stares from people around the complex. Afraid of angering him further and causing a scene, I could only keep quiet and let him follow behind Olivia and me. When we got to Olivia’s place, I settled Olivia into bed. When I came out to the living room, Ethan was on the balcony making a phone call. From his tone, it didn’t sound good. He seemed to be dealing with some thorny issue. Seeing me come out, he hung up the phone and reached for my hand: “Let’s go, Lily. Come home with me.” His tone was so casual, as if yesterday’s events had never happened. But I easily shook him off: “Ethan Shaw, wake up. There’s no relationship between us anymore.” When I said we had no relationship, his eyes suddenly turned red. Then he came closer, his right hand cupping the back of my head, and showered me with small kisses without warning. He only let go when I was about to run out of breath. Then his burning hand wrapped around my waist, his fingertips caressing the small of my back: “Lily Ross, do you want to do it here or go home?”

I pushed him away forcefully: “Ethan Shaw, I’ll say it again, we have no relationship anymore! If you keep this up, I’m calling the police!” “Call the police?” He laughed self-mockingly, then slammed the door as he left. A lot had happened today, and I was a bit tired as I collapsed onto the sofa. Just as I lay down, the doorbell rang again. I opened the door. Ethan was still standing outside: “Lily Ross, I’m asking you one more time, are you coming home with me or not?” I was speechless at his shamelessness, and slammed the door shut with a “bang”. Along with it, I shut out Ethan’s words: “Lily Ross, you’ll regret this.” The next day, Olivia, who had blacked out, had forgotten everything that happened last night. In the end, I was the only one left embarrassed. Early in the morning, Olivia started complaining about her hangover headache from drinking too much last night. I had just made her some lemon water when I received a call saying Ethan was going to shut down “Encounter”. “Encounter” was a coffee shop. When Ethan and I first got together, he was worried I’d be bored waiting for him at home all day, so he opened a coffee shop for me on the street where we first met. In the past two years, I had put a lot of effort into that shop, and “Encounter” was doing quite well. When he warned me not to regret it yesterday, I had actually thought of this possibility. When I arrived at the coffee shop, Ethan was already there. A row of employees with solemn faces stood in front of him. Seeing me, Ethan unconsciously straightened his back even more. The employees started expressing their reluctance to leave to me. Ethan coughed: “Lily Ross, with just one word from you, ‘Encounter’ doesn’t have to close.” Ethan, on the surface, seemed like a formidable figure in the business world, but behind the scenes he was just like a child. Always thinking he could force me to compromise with these tactics. But he had underestimated me. Moreover, business tactics were never suitable for matters of the heart. I ignored Ethan. Then I took out a stack of red envelopes from my bag and distributed them to everyone: “I know ‘Encounter’ is everyone’s hard work, and I really enjoyed working with all of you. But life often doesn’t go as planned. Don’t worry, besides the compensation you should receive, this is just a little extra from me.” Ethan’s face darkened even more: “Lily Ross!” He always liked to call my full name when he was angry. That hadn’t changed all these years. I sighed: “Mr. Shaw, stop with your childish behavior.” He got up and left, passing by me, but not without warning: “Lily Ross, let’s see how long you can last without me.” I didn’t know how long I could last. The best years of my life had been trapped in the cage Ethan wove for me. Now that I had flown out, I really needed to think about where to go. All these years by Ethan’s side, although he was generous to me – sending me jewelry and bags until my hands were full, letting me use his credit cards freely – when I left, I didn’t take any of those things with me. The only thing I took with me was the meager profits from “Encounter” over the past few years. So even the apartment I found was a smaller one-bedroom next to Olivia’s. On moving day, Ethan’s driver Jack came by. His excuse was pretty lame: “Mr. Shaw said he can’t find one of his ties, and was wondering if it might have gotten mixed in with your clothes when you left.”

In front of him, I patiently went through my luggage but couldn’t find the blue tie he mentioned. Jack looked at a message on his phone and smacked his forehead: “Oh, Mr. Shaw says he found it. Seems it had fallen into a gap somewhere.” I wordlessly gestured for him to leave. Before leaving, Jack asked again: “Miss Ross, I see this apartment is really small. Why don’t you talk to Mr. Shaw and go back?” The sound of the door slamming shut was my answer. After tidying up the few things in the room, the doorbell rang again. I thought it was Jack coming back and was about to lose my temper when I saw Olivia carrying a big pot. “Quick, Lily, you must not have had time to eat after being so busy. I just made a pot of rice.” “You didn’t go to work today?” “I took the afternoon off. I figured with all your stuff, you’d be busy until who knows when if I didn’t come help you unpack.” In all the years I was with Ethan, I had basically lost touch with all my old friends. Only Olivia had stuck by me the whole time. I smiled and thanked her. Then I ate a big bowl of rice while listening to her curse out Ethan. Actually, I had already made plans for my future work. Before, I was constrained by Ethan, but now that I had left him, I had no more concerns. In college, my second major was fashion design, so I thought I could do design and pattern-making during the day, and then sell my creations through live streaming at night. Once the volume got big enough, I could find manufacturers to cooperate with. At first, the live streams were quiet with only a few passersby and the persistent Olivia. Two weeks later, the live room finally started to gain some popularity. However, since it was a night stream, there would occasionally be a few creepy men saying some explicit things in the chat. Whenever this happened, Olivia would furiously fight back from behind the screen. Until one day, I saw a striking username “Ethan Shaw” among those helping to fight back. I frowned. This guy really didn’t know how to use a nickname when registering an account. But Olivia was merciless. Seeing Ethan come in, she got even more fired up, and the two of them started arguing like elementary school kids in the live room. The comment section became quite chaotic, and I had to end the night’s stream early. Then, as soon as I went offline, I received a call from Ethan. “Lily Ross, if you need money just say so. Even if you won’t come back, you don’t need to go back to doing that.” Before I could answer, Olivia beside me jumped up: “Doing what? What’s wrong with selling clothes? Only someone like you with a dirty mind would see everything as dirty!” With that, she hung up on Ethan. Ever since Olivia found out Ethan and I had split up and he had sold “Encounter”, she never had a good word to say about him again. However, I couldn’t help but tell Olivia: “Actually Olivia, I never told you, but Ethan has shares in the company you’re working for now.” “…” The next second, Olivia dialed Ethan’s number: “Mr. Shaw, I was too rash earlier. Please don’t take offense. Rest assured, I’ll definitely try my best to persuade Lily to go back to you.” I frowned: “Olivia, how can you be so two-faced?” “It’s all for survival. But don’t worry, I’m just appeasing him. You’re my only true love.” Of course I believed Olivia. I had just underestimated Ethan’s possessiveness towards me. That night before bed, I received a transfer of $500,000 from him to my account. Along with a message: “Lily, stop messing around and come back soon.” He still thought I was just throwing a tantrum.

I transferred the money he gave me right back to him. He was jumping up and down on the other end of the phone: “Lily Ross, are you tired of the good life and just want to suffer?” I didn’t think my current life was suffering, but I didn’t bother explaining that to him. There was no need to explain. All these years, it seemed like besides giving me money, he had never tried to understand me. Recently, orders from the live streams had increased a bit, and I was finally able to catch my breath a little. Until I received a call from the hospital. My aunt had fallen and injured her leg and been taken to the hospital. After my parents divorced and both went abroad, I lived with my aunt for my three years of high school. So my aunt was actually my only relative in the country. Her children weren’t local, so when she was injured, the hospital called me. But I didn’t expect to run into Zachary Quinn at the hospital. Zachary Quinn was my high school classmate. We were both on the school debate team and had interacted quite a few times. However, we really got to know each other after an internal debate competition where I made his teammate cry. His teammate wailed that I was so fierce I’d never be able to get married. Thinking about this incident, Zachary and I couldn’t help but laugh. But then Zachary changed the subject: “So, are you married now?” I was surprised by his question, then shook my head. He smiled brightly beside me: “Actually, after the college entrance exam, I went to look for you before going abroad, but your neighbor said you had moved. Later, when I came back to the country, I asked our classmates about you, but they all said you had lost touch after college graduation.” I didn’t have that many friends in high school to begin with, and after going to film school, my path diverged from everyone else’s. Then after getting together with Ethan, I stopped contacting people even more. Thinking of Ethan, I couldn’t help but sigh. Zachary bought a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine and handed it to me: “What’s wrong? Have things been okay these past years?” Pretty good. “I was lost for a while, but fortunately I’ve found myself again now.” “That’s good.” Then we both fell silent, sitting on the long bench for a long time. I was contemplating the past years of my life. I don’t know what he was thinking about. Until a nurse called him to see a patient, he finally left. Before leaving, he remembered to add me on SnapChat, then asked: “Do you have time for dinner tonight?” I was still pondering excuses to refuse when he had already started answering himself: “I’m about to get off work. I’ll come find you in a bit.” He had helped with my aunt’s hospitalization, so I figured treating him to a meal was only right. During dinner, Zachary talked about many interesting stories from high school. Actually, a lot of what he said was a bit fuzzy in my memory. But he was telling the stories with such enthusiasm, so I just smiled and listened, occasionally chiming in when I remembered something. In the end, he suddenly asked me: “Am I boring you by talking so much?” I shook my head. Of course not. “That’s good. I’ve been holding onto some things for a long time, so when I saw you, I just wanted to tell you everything all at once.” I could hear the joy in his tone, but I couldn’t say much in response. After dinner, he offered to drive me home. Zachary’s car had just stopped at the entrance of my apartment complex when we saw Ethan leaning against his eye-catching red sports car in front of my building. Seeing Zachary, Ethan became hostile. He came up to me and asked: “Lily Ross! Who is he?” Zachary extended his hand politely to greet Ethan: “I’m Zachary Quinn, Lily’s friend.” Zachary deliberately emphasized the word “friend” a bit. But Ethan’s attention was on the “Lily” part: “Lily? Lily? What, are you two very close?” I couldn’t stand Ethan’s sarcastic tone and was about to tell him to mind his own business. But Zachary stepped in front of me: “We’re quite close, after all we’ve known each other for over ten years. What about you? Who are you to Lily?” “I’m her…”

Ethan “her”-ed for a while but couldn’t say anything. You see, after being together for so many years, he couldn’t even introduce our relationship when it came down to it. I couldn’t bear to watch anymore and interjected: “He used to be my boss, but now our contract has ended, so we don’t have any relationship anymore.” Ethan’s face looked even worse after hearing me say this. I’ve really had a long day and was tired, so I said goodbye to Zachary and went upstairs. Leaving Ethan alone in a daze by his red sports car. Half an hour later, my doorbell rang again. I didn’t even need to think to know it must be Ethan: “Do you have any other business?” Ethan outside the door had an ashen face: “Lily Ross! Is this how you talk to me now?” I really don’t know what kind of attitude I should have towards him. I made a motion to close the door: “If you don’t like it, I’d rather not talk at all.” Ethan put his foot in the door: “Lily Ross, you’ve only been away from me for a few days and you’ve already found someone new, haven’t you?” I couldn’t be bothered to reason with him, so I just nodded: “Yes! I’ve been planning this for a long time, just waiting for you to break up with me. Do you have any other questions?” Ethan probably didn’t expect me to be so direct with him. He opened and closed his mouth, then shook his head: “Impossible, I don’t believe it. This guy must be someone you hired to deliberately make me jealous, right? Right, Lily Ross?” Me? I never knew Ethan had so much drama in his mind before. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him so I tried to close the door again. He put his arm against the door and looked down at me: “Lily, I know, you’re doing all this just to make me jealous, you just want me to be nervous, right? Alright then, I admit you’ve achieved your goal. I really can’t bear to be without you. Will you come back? If you come back, I won’t hold these past few days against you, okay?” Me? Just like that, he won’t hold it against me! I motioned for Ethan to come closer. He leaned his ear in, and I whispered close to his ear: “Fuck off.” Then I closed the door, shutting out Ethan’s voice along with it. To be honest, in the five years I was with Ethan, I was always accommodating him, so he hasn’t thrown as many tantrums in five years combined as he has recently. Business at the live streaming studio has been getting better, not just a little. I couldn’t handle it all myself anymore, so I took out my savings and opened a workshop. These past few days have been quite busy with work, and I still need to make time to visit my aunt, so I’ve been a bit overwhelmed. Fortunately, Zachary has been helping to look after things at the hospital, and my cousin paid for a caregiver for my aunt, which has finally allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief. But when I saw Zachary at the entrance of my apartment complex, I was still a bit surprised: “You’re… looking for me?” Zachary smiled easily: “No, I live here too.” Then I watched with my own eyes as Zachary entered the elevator with me, then walked into the apartment across from mine. I only then confirmed what he said. Olivia, who had just come out to see what the commotion was about, looked surprised: “Was that… Zachary Quinn just now?” I nodded: “Yep, it’s him.” Olivia clapped her little hands and shook her head: “Well, things are about to get lively.” However, although Zachary moved in next door, we didn’t run into each other often since I was leaving early and returning late. The new workshop was running very smoothly, so I started thinking about expanding the scale. The most urgent matter was to contact factories to discuss cooperation. After being busy for several days, I finally managed to find a suitable supplier to cooperate with. It was already very late after finishing dinner with the manufacturer. As soon as I walked out, I ran into Ethan at the hotel entrance. After not seeing each other for several days. The first thing out of his mouth was still the same old tune.

“So, Lily, have you thought about coming back to me?” Seriously, when did I ever consider this matter? “Ethan Shaw, I’ve always thought you weren’t an indecisive person, so can you stop wasting time on me? I’m not going back to you.” Ethan sighed: “Alright then, Lily. I’ll give you a few more days to think about it.” “Thanks, but there’s no need.” “Lily Ross!” “Ethan Shaw, haven’t I made myself clear enough?” But Ethan seemed completely unable to hear what I was saying. He turned and patted the passenger seat of his car: “Come on, it’s late. I’ll drive you home.” I was about to refuse when Zachary’s car happened to pull up next to us. Seeing me, he waved enthusiastically: “Lily? What a coincidence.” All three of us meeting here, it really was quite a coincidence. Seeing Ethan, Zachary still greeted him politely. Ethan’s face was as sour as if someone owed him money. The contrast in their demeanors was stark at this moment. Zachary asked me a few simple questions about why I was here, then invited me: “It’s so late, Lily. Let me drive you home.” Although I didn’t really want to get too involved with Zachary right now either. But compared to Ethan, I’d rather get in Zachary’s car at this moment. As Zachary opened the passenger door of his car for me, Ethan suddenly slammed his steering wheel behind me, then called out my name: “Lily Ross! Don’t you dare go with him!” I’ve never been a timid person. Besides, there’s nothing I don’t dare do now. I didn’t bother responding to Ethan, and just got into Zachary’s car. On the way, Ethan called me but I hung up. His SnapChat messages had long been blocked. Zachary smiled a little at my actions. I didn’t quite understand: “What’s wrong?” “Nothing, just feeling very happy.” I opened my mouth, wanting to explain to Zachary about my relationship with Ethan, but after organizing my thoughts for a long time, I still couldn’t bring myself to speak. Zachary didn’t seem to intend to ask me either. When I got home, Olivia was already waiting for me in the living room. As soon as she saw me, she jumped up from my sofa: “Girl, you’re finally back.” “What’s wrong?” She pointed at her phone. In the chat window with Ethan, there was a string of 60-second voice messages. He had never been a talkative person before, and had even complained to me about people who send 60-second voice messages all at once. Now looking at these dense messages, it was clear he was really angry. Olivia wailed in front of me: “Lily Ross, tell me what exactly you did to him today. You don’t know how angry he was just now. If you didn’t come back soon, I was afraid he would storm our apartment complex and tear the roof off.” Then she threw her phone to me: “I still don’t have the courage to listen to these unread messages. You listen to them yourself.” I opened them and listened one by one. The ones towards the end were basically all addressed to me, with the general message being: He’s angry. I’m in trouble. I nonchalantly returned the phone to Olivia: “It’s fine, he’s just throwing a tantrum like a kid. Don’t worry about him.” But Olivia was still very curious about how I had angered Ethan to this extent. I told Olivia everything that happened today in detail. Olivia munched on her chips loudly: “No wonder he exploded. But Lily, they say even warring countries don’t kill envoys. Ethan won’t take it out on me, will he?” That shouldn’t happen. I patiently reassured Olivia. After all, he probably still needs Olivia to gather information for him. Besides, targeting Olivia would be meaningless for him. But what I didn’t expect was that Ethan would actually make a move against me.

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After Naomi Parker, my eldest daughter, became successful, she cut ties with the family. My wife, Rachel, urged me to calculate how much money we spent on her so that she could repay us, including interest. While searching for paper and a pen to make the calculations, I stumbled upon Naomi’s diary. It was filled with her grievances against the family. As I started reading, I found myself blaming her for being unreasonable and immature. But as I continued, I couldn’t stop my eyes from welling up with tears. I have two daughters. Naomi, my eldest, was born to my ex-wife, Evelyn Harper, while Ella, my younger daughter, is the child of my current wife, Rachel. Ella was born premature and has always been frail and sickly. Because of Ella’s delicate health, I often asked Naomi to take care of her younger sister. Most of Naomi’s complaints in her diary are about how I favored Ella. It started with small things, like buying Ella a Barbie Doll but not buying anything for Naomi, or only picking Ella up from school while leaving Naomi to walk home alone. One entry, from when Naomi was twelve, stuck with me. It was her birthday. She understood that our financial situation was tight and knew that toys and dresses, if we ever bought them, would go to her younger sister, Ella, who was sick more often and still a child. Naomi had her eye on a dress that wasn’t expensive, but she knew we wouldn’t buy it for her. So, she spent a whole year collecting bottles to save up enough money to buy that dress as a birthday gift for herself. On her birthday, Naomi was thrilled to wear that beautiful dress, and Ella immediately became envious. “That dress is so pretty, Naomi! Can I wear it too?” Ella asked. Naomi’s reaction was fierce. She hugged the dress protectively and snapped, “No! Dad and Rachel buy you all those toys and dresses, and this is the only one I have! Why do you always have to take what’s mine?” Naomi’s lips trembled as she spoke, tears welling up in her eyes. Seeing this, I felt a pang of sympathy for Ella, so I told Naomi, “Ella is your little sister. What’s wrong with letting her wear the dress for a few days?” But Naomi stood her ground. “She’s never shared her toys or dresses with me. Why should I share mine?” Her defiance made me furious, and my expression darkened. Ella tugged at my sleeve and said, “Dad, it’s okay. Don’t make Naomi upset. It’s my fault.” Ella was always so considerate, and I gently patted her head. “Ella, you’re such a good girl.” But Naomi’s anger only grew. She glared at Ella. “It’s because of you I lost Dad’s love! You take all the toys and pretty dresses! I hate you!” Ella’s eyes welled with tears, and she started trembling, gasping for breath. “I’m sorry, Naomi! I didn’t mean to make you mad.” As she cried, her breathing became more labored, and her face paled until, suddenly, she fainted. Her head hit the corner of the coffee table, and blood gushed from the wound. Rachel immediately called an ambulance. Furious, I kicked Naomi in the chest. “You know your sister is weak and can’t handle stress. It’s just a dress! How could you make her pass out over something so trivial?” Naomi fell to the floor, clutching her chest in pain, her face contorted. Tears welled in her eyes as she sobbed, “Dad, Ella is your daughter, but aren’t I your daughter too?” “Is it so wrong to want to keep my own dress?” I was too angry to hear reason. I raised my hand again, shouting, “After what you did to your sister, you dare talk back to me?” Naomi, terrified, started trembling, biting her lip as her eyes filled with tears. Rachel grabbed my arm. “Don’t! She didn’t mean to, Donovan.” At that moment, Ella regained consciousness and, weakly, tried to explain, “Dad, don’t blame Naomi. It was my fault for fainting.” I rushed to Ella’s side, cradling her gently. “You’re hurt so badly, Ella, and still you defend her? Naomi doesn’t care about you at all.” From the corner of the room, Naomi sat curled up, watching us with tear-filled eyes. After that incident, my relationship with Naomi visibly deteriorated. She never initiated conversations with me again, and her smiles became rare. Whenever she looked at me, her eyes were filled with fear and mistrust. That was the first time I hit her, and afterward, I regretted it. It was just children being children. How could I, as an adult, lose control like that? But as a parent, I couldn’t bring myself to apologize. From that point in her diary onward, Naomi’s entries became more frequent, almost daily. It seemed that every time she saw me, she was reminded of that day, and every little thing would make her sad again.

I continued reading, and the entries soon reached Naomi’s eighteenth year. Ella had started dating a street thug and was considering dropping out of school. When I found out that Naomi had introduced Ella to this boy, I was furious. I stormed into the school and slapped Naomi in front of the teachers and students. “Naomi Parker, what are you thinking? How could you introduce such a scumbag to your sister? She’s your flesh and blood! If you’re angry at us, fine, but why ruin her life?” Naomi held her cheek, looking at me in disbelief. “Dad, who told you I introduced Derek to Ella?” I turned to Rachel, who looked away guiltily. “Ella told me. She said Derek was your friend and that you had vouched for him, so I didn’t worry.” Naomi’s face went cold, and she pulled out her phone to show me their messages. Derek had pursued Naomi first, but she had rejected him several times. He eventually turned his attention to Ella, and Naomi had even warned Ella multiple times, telling her Derek hadn’t gone to college and didn’t have a proper job. She begged Ella not to be fooled by his sweet words. Only then did I realize I had wrongly accused Naomi. But with the teachers and students still watching, I couldn’t swallow my pride. So, I stammered, “Even if that’s true, you’re still her sister! You go to the same school. Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? You should’ve helped her out sooner!” The moment the words left my mouth, I felt my face flush with shame. The judgmental stares from those around us only intensified. Naomi didn’t cry this time. She just clenched her fists in silence. I pulled her aside and quietly apologized. “Naomi, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have blamed you. But please, she’s your sister. Can you help convince her to leave him?” After much persuasion, Naomi finally agreed to talk to Ella. By that time, Ella had already realized who Derek really was and wanted to break up with him, but Derek refused to let her go. In a desperate move, he and his gang kidnapped Ella, and when Naomi tried to intervene, she was taken too. Derek and his gang demanded a ransom of one million dollars for each girl. At the time, I had just started my business, and I only had one million dollars available. I would have to choose between my two daughters. When the time came for the exchange, Naomi and Ella were both tied up. Ella, with tears streaming down her face, pleaded, “Dad, please save me. I don’t want to die.” Naomi, however, remained calm, staring at me without a word. I knew that Naomi had been dragged into this situation and that I was more responsible for what had happened than she was. That million should’ve been used to save her. Derek pushed me to make a decision. “Who’s it going to be?” I looked at Naomi, ready to say her name, but Ella fainted from the stress. Seeing her pale face and fragile body, my heart wavered. I couldn’t bear to lose her. My resolve crumbled, and I painfully uttered the words, “Save Ella.” For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed Naomi’s calm eyes. After a long pause, she spoke in a dry, raspy voice, her laughter hollow and bitter. “So, you never loved me. I’m just a stranger to you.” Tears welled in her eyes as she whispered, her voice breaking. I couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. I turned away and said, “Naomi, I’m sorry. But Ella is weak, and she passed out. I have to save her first. Don’t worry, I’ll find another million to save you.” And with that, I left with Ella.

After getting Ella to the hospital, I had planned to start raising the money to save Naomi. But Ella’s condition was critical, and the doctors said she might need surgery. Then, Rachel fainted from the stress, so I stayed to sign the paperwork. It wasn’t until five days later that I was finally free to focus on getting Naomi back. But by then, Naomi had already returned. She was found unconscious on our doorstep, her clothes torn and her body covered in bruises. The men who were arrested later confessed to beating Naomi with steel rods, burning her with cigarettes, and feeding her scraps of leftover food. They had been planning something far worse, but she managed to escape under the cover of night, walking three days and nights through wilderness. Her feet were bloodied from the journey, and she survived by eating leaves and drinking muddy water. By the time she reached civilization, she resorted to rummaging through trash for food. After those horrific five days, Naomi was never the same. She was plagued by nightmares, waking up in terror. Even the slightest touch made her flinch, and she would drop to her knees, begging us not to hurt her. Then, she fell gravely ill with a fever that lasted for three days and three nights. When she finally recovered, she had lost all her memories of what had happened. From that moment on, she became a different person. She was quiet and obedient. Anytime there was only one of something, Naomi would give it to Ella without hesitation, even before Rachel or I could say a word. The more she did this, the more guilt I felt. The truth was, the person Naomi had become was entirely my fault. Just as I reached this realization, Rachel interrupted my thoughts with a pat on my shoulder. “Donovan, have you finished the calculations?” “She’s rich and successful now, all thanks to us raising her. We should add up every penny and make her pay us back, with interest.” Before I found the diary, I might have agreed with Rachel. But now, having read Naomi’s diary, I couldn’t help but question whether we had ever truly “raised” her in the way a parent should. And after everything, how could we demand that she pay us back? Just then, Lucas Foster, Ella’s husband, walked in and told us that Ella had been diagnosed with kidney failure and urgently needed a transplant. Without hesitation, Rachel and I rushed to the hospital to get tested, but neither of us was a match. Crushed by the news, Rachel slumped in her chair. But suddenly, her face lit up with an idea. “Naomi. Naomi is Ella’s sister. She must be a match.” My heart sank. Naomi had cut ties with us. She wanted nothing to do with our family anymore. Even if her kidney was a match, I doubted she would agree to help. Rachel grabbed my arm, desperation in her voice. “Donovan, we can’t lose Ella. We have to convince Naomi to get tested.” Lying in her hospital bed, Ella looked frail and tearful. “Dad, I don’t want to die. Please, please save me.” “Naomi is kind. If her kidney is a match, I know she’ll save me. Please, go find her.” Both of them were my daughters, and I didn’t want to lose either of them. After much deliberation, I finally decided to go to Naomi. I just prayed she would help, for the sake of sisterly love. As we drove to her apartment, with Lucas at the wheel, I couldn’t help but feel a deep, gnawing guilt. In fact, Lucas was originally the boyfriend of his eldest daughter, Naomi, and was already talking about marriage at that time.

Lucas Foster was a promising young executive at a large company, and Naomi had graduated from a prestigious school, making them a perfect match. I wholeheartedly supported their relationship. Who would have thought that Ella would come between them? To make matters worse, Ella became pregnant with Lucas’s child. Her explanation was that they got drunk at a party and things just happened. Both Ella and my wife, Rachel, knelt in front of me, pleading for me to let Ella be with Lucas. Ella was sobbing, her face streaked with tears. “Dad, I really love Lucas. Even if you won’t think of me, at least think about the baby. Your grandchild can’t grow up without a father.” “Naomi listens to you the most. I’m sure if you talk to her, she’ll agree to let Lucas go.” Rachel chimed in, “I know our Ella did Naomi wrong, but what’s done is done. We can’t ask Ella to get rid of the baby, can we?” “Naomi has always been so mature and understanding. She wouldn’t want to see her sister in this situation. Besides, Naomi is so accomplished—she’ll have no problem finding another man.” Their pitiful expressions made me soften, even though I knew I was betraying my eldest daughter once again. That evening, Rachel prepared all of Naomi’s favorite dishes and invited her over for dinner. After we had eaten, Rachel gave me a subtle nod, signaling it was time. Swallowing my pride, I explained the situation to Naomi. “Naomi, sweetheart, you’ve always been so good to us, never causing any trouble. You’ve worked hard and deserve the best. But your sister… Ella, she’s fragile, and it’s harder for her to find a match.” “Now, because of a misunderstanding, she’s pregnant with Lucas’s child. Could you possibly let Lucas go for her sake?” Even as I spoke, I felt too ashamed to meet Naomi’s eyes. I expected her to explode in anger, to curse us out and storm off. But to my surprise, she remained calm. After a brief pause, she quietly agreed. And just like that, Ella, pregnant with Lucas’s child, became his wife. Out of guilt, I bought Naomi a car to use for her commute to work. But two weeks later, Ella got into a car accident while driving Naomi’s car, and she lost the baby. I immediately assumed Naomi had lent Ella the car, leading to this tragedy. Outside the hospital, I lashed out at Naomi. “You knew Ella was pregnant, yet you still lent her your car. What were you thinking? You caused this accident! This is all your fault!” My anger was uncontrollable as I glared at her. Rachel tried to calm me down, biting her lip as she spoke, “It wasn’t Naomi who lent Ella the car.” “How could that be?” I snapped. “I bought that car for Naomi. If she didn’t lend it to Ella, how did she get her hands on it?” Rachel lowered her gaze, speaking hesitantly. “Ella and Lucas were getting married soon, and they had everything but a car. I mentioned it to Naomi, and she agreed to let them use it.” Shocked, I turned to Naomi. “I gave that car to you. Why would you give it to them?” Naomi looked down, her voice quiet but firm. “Dad, how many things that you’ve given me have I actually been able to keep? They’re always taken away eventually. It’s just a matter of time.” At that moment, I realized how poorly I had treated Naomi as a father. I had always tried to balance things equally, but somehow, the scales always tipped in Ella’s favor. Over time, I got used to expecting Naomi to sacrifice for her sister. But the truth is, both girls were my daughters, and Naomi never had an obligation to give up what was hers for Ella.

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Discovering that my fiancée was cheating was an accident. That day, I was bored, scrolling through social media, when I stumbled across a love story. It was tragic, and the ending wasn’t a happy one. A blogger called Winter Snow shared her story about how she and her first love saved each other but had to part ways due to life’s circumstances. Now, she was getting ready to marry someone else. Their story sounded like something from a soap opera, a perfect tale of childhood sweethearts. He was the charming, wealthy, and brilliant guy next door. She was equally beautiful and bright, but after her family went bankrupt, her mother became abusive. She endured a rough upbringing, leaving her withdrawn and lonely. But that didn’t stop them from falling in love. She fought for him, skipped school for him, did everything she thought was romantic. Once, she even snuck into a bakery at night to steal cake molds just to make his favorite dessert. He changed his college application for her, set off fireworks despite the campus rules on her birthday, and did anything to make her happy. He was her light in a dark world, her salvation. They clung to each other, making each other their entire world, but ultimately, reality and family pressure drove them apart. She said after they broke up, she had planned to stay single forever. She’d been treated like a precious gem, having seen the brightest side of love, and didn’t want to settle for less. But as her roommates moved on with their lives, she too longed for love. And as her mother aged and grew weaker, she realized there was nothing left to hold on to in this world. So, when her college senior proposed, she accepted, though she realized she could never love him—or anyone—again. She drowned herself in alcohol, stayed out late, and became adept at playing the game of life, floating between different men. She enjoyed that lifestyle. When people chased after her, she felt invincible. Those so-called “guy friends” of hers—they were really her prey. Or rather, they used each other for fleeting comfort. Marriage wasn’t something she wanted. But her mother—who had blamed her for everything and abused her endlessly—was dying of cancer. Her mother’s dying wish was to see her married and settled. She hated her parents, but she couldn’t sever the bond of family or deny her mother’s wish. So, she asked her boyfriend to marry her. He loved her deeply and agreed, moved by her request. But she still wanted one last wild fling before the wedding. And so, in the three months leading up to the wedding, she slept with all her “friends,” in hotels or in the very house her fiancé had prepared for their new life together. On the bed, the vanity, the bathroom, the living room—everywhere. And most importantly, the one she truly loved was also in that house. “I know what I’m doing will hurt my future husband, but I can’t stop myself. I just want to say goodbye to my youth and love.” “I may have had countless past relationships and thirteen guy friends, but I take each one seriously.” Look at that—how eloquently she dressed up her cheating as something noble and meaningful. Of course, it wouldn’t have mattered to me if the unlucky fiancé wasn’t… me.

How did I discover that Winter Snow was actually my fiancée, Olivia Blake? It wasn’t her IP address. It was the details in her post. She mentioned that they got into the same university and that she played Butterfly Lovers on the piano for him at the freshman welcome event. Coincidentally, that’s where I met Olivia—she played Butterfly Lovers at our own freshman event too. At the end of the song, she was crying her eyes out. I thought she was moved by the music. I was intrigued by her, not knowing she was playing it for someone else—her first love. She also wrote about how she bought his favorite breakfast early one winter morning and waited outside his dorm for half an hour, only to have him refuse to meet her because of his parents’ disapproval. She gave the breakfast to a random good-looking guy who happened to be coming down the stairs. That guy was me. I remember the breakfast—it had already lost its warmth, tucked inside her coat. She wrote that when she found out he was leaving the country, she skipped class and rushed to the airport to see him one last time, but he had already left. She cried uncontrollably at the airport, and someone gave her a hug. Unluckily for me, I was that “someone.” Fresh from a vacation, I had stumbled across her tears at the airport. I already knew about her family situation and had hesitated about pursuing her. I was just from a middle-class background, while she came from a once-wealthy family that had fallen on hard times. I wondered if I could handle her past, her expectations, or the life she wanted. But after getting to know her, I realized I was wrong. Olivia seemed like a bright, optimistic girl. She never gave up despite her family’s downfall. She was smart, confident, and even though she occasionally skipped class, her grades were stellar. She was the kind of person who could bloom even in the harshest conditions. Looks didn’t matter after you got to know her. So, after weighing everything, I decided to pursue her. I did everything I thought was romantic. But for six months, she kept me at a distance, neither fully accepting me nor pushing me away—until her birthday. It was then that I knew Winter Snow was her. The blog post mentioned fireworks, and that night I had prepared fireworks to confess my love. She seemed distant that evening, but in my excitement, I didn’t notice her mood. When the fireworks lit up the sky, she smiled—then started crying. Before I could say anything, she agreed to be my girlfriend. Later, my friend told me that the fireworks I had prepared were set off later than planned, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. Now I realize the fireworks that moved her weren’t mine—they were for her first love, marking the end of their story. I’ve been with Olivia for seven years since then. We’ve had our ups and downs, even considered breaking up at times, but we always found a way to make things work. She treated me with respect. Half a year ago, after we were finally done with long-distance, it was her 27th birthday. That night, she got drunk, clung to me tightly, and told me seriously that she wanted to marry me and have a child. She said, “Evan, you’re 28 now, and both of us have stable careers. We’re more than capable of being each other’s support and becoming good parents.” “Evan, I admit I had a deep, unforgettable love in my youth, but that’s all in the past.” “Believe me. I’ll be a good wife to you, a good mother to our child. I’ll give our child the love and family I never had.” “I want us to be that couple everyone envies. I want our child to grow up with love, free and wild, not bound by anything.” “Evan, that’s my birthday wish. Will you grant it?” As she said this, she held me so tightly, her eyes full of hope and tenderness. Her words wrapped around my heart, and before I knew it, I nodded and started planning the wedding. We were going to get married soon.

I was touched by what she said because my relationship with my dad was always distant. I longed for a loving home, a place where I could feel safe. Besides, I wasn’t getting any younger. So I began to plan everything. I designed her wedding dress by hand, stayed up late looking through wedding ideas, thinking of ways to surprise her. I wanted to give her a perfect wedding, one she would remember forever. I wanted to give her everything. And I truly believed she was ready for a new life, for starting a family. But when I shared the wedding news in our college friends’ group chat, all I got was silence. None of them congratulated me. Instead, they asked the same question: “Are you sure you want to marry Olivia Blake?” I asked them why. No one answered. It was like the group chat had gone dormant. I didn’t understand. They had all supported me when I was chasing her, so why the sudden change? Even though I didn’t get any answers, I sensed something was off. Especially when Olivia told me she had to go on a business trip and left me to handle all the wedding preparations. She said if I couldn’t manage, she could cancel the trip. I declined. I had my doubts, but I didn’t think anyone should abandon their career for a relationship. Especially women. Women already face enough challenges in the workplace, and she had worked so hard to reach her position. If she succeeded in her project, she would take another step forward in her career. The wedding could be simple, but her career? That was her choice, and I wouldn’t let it be affected. What I didn’t realize was that her “business trip” was just an excuse to spend time with her first love and thirteen guy friends! When I called her to ask if she needed me to bring anything to her trip, she hesitated before saying no. “I don’t need anything. It’s a long trip, and I have most of what I need in my office. If there’s anything else, I can always buy it. Just focus on the wedding, love.” Her voice grew quieter toward the end of the call, and she quickly hung up. But just before the call ended, I heard a man’s voice in the background. A voice that couldn’t be explained away. I felt cold, a deep chill running through me. And then, I got a message from one of my college roommates. “Evan, it’s not that I don’t want to congratulate you, but you don’t really know Olivia.” Didn’t know her? We had been together for seven years. How could I not know her? But when I opened the screenshot my friend had sent, I froze. It was a chat between Olivia and one of her college friends, sent after she and I had already started dating. Each sentence, every punctuation mark—it was like a blade cutting through my heart. She was saying things she had never said to me, flirtatious, intimate things that didn’t match the composed, thoughtful Olivia I knew. The Olivia in those messages was playful, seductive, and even shared private photos—things I had never seen before. Tears blurred my vision, and the mix of anger and betrayal threatened to tear me apart. Every message felt like a needle stabbing at my heart. My hands were shaking as I scrolled through her old texts, and each one was a blow to the love I had felt. All that love now had turned into a fire, burning me from the inside out. I clicked on the last message my friend had sent—a link to an Instagram account. This account held all the proof of Olivia’s double life since college. Videos, voice messages, everything. There were clips of her hanging out with other guys, going on weekend trips, playing at theme parks, going skydiving—all the moments she’d spent with them, the secret life she had hidden from me. And me? The man who had given her everything, her boyfriend, her fiancé—who she never even mentioned. It was as if I didn’t exist in her world. I was just a shadow, an afterthought, something to be forgotten. I knew, in that moment, that we were done. But how could I let it end like that?

I forced myself to hold back the nausea that rose from deep within me, as well as the fury boiling over in my heart. I saved every piece of evidence from that Instagram account and started private messaging my college friends. Slowly, they began to tell me about the side of Olivia I had never known. Unlike the Olivia I thought I knew, in high school she had been a rebellious teenager. She had cut class, gotten into fights, and even teamed up with some street thugs to collect “protection money” from other students. There was one girl she had bullied so badly that the girl developed severe depression and had to leave school. Olivia herself had even ended up in juvenile detention for a while. In senior year, when her father died in a car accident, Olivia and her mom received a large settlement and left their old town, starting a new life. The cheerful, optimistic girl I knew—that had all been a facade. In reality, she was arrogant, never caring about anyone else’s feelings. But she covered her tracks well, always keeping things just above suspicion so no one could directly accuse her of wrongdoing. When I started dating her, she had already been involved with several guys at our university. Most of those guys were decent people, thinking they had been in a genuine relationship with her. They had all broken up amicably, which is why none of them ever spoke about it. Olivia’s secrets were well hidden, even from me. She had continued messaging my college roommates, flirting with them, even after we were officially together. Whether or not any of them acted on those messages, I didn’t want to know. At this point, it didn’t matter. I’ve never been the kind of person to hold grudges, but someone like Olivia didn’t deserve to continue living such a glamorous life while I was left in the shadows. What I needed now was to gather all the evidence. I wanted to make sure she would pay back everything she had taken from me. That’s when I stumbled upon that blog post. I wasn’t ready to go home yet. Instead, I headed to the security office of our apartment complex. With a pack of cigarettes and a couple of bottles of water, I earned the sympathy of the security guards, who allowed me to check the surveillance footage. I sent Olivia a text, but it went unanswered, as if she had disappeared off the face of the earth. I stared at the monitor for hours, watching as the day slowly turned to night, and my heart grew colder with each passing moment. Finally, I saw it—the door to our apartment opened, and Olivia stepped out, hand-in-hand with a man. They kissed passionately before the elevator doors closed. Even as the doors shut, she lingered in the hallway, gazing tearfully after him. The 4K high-definition footage captured their “epic love story” in crystal clarity, a love that seemed to transcend the ordinary, as if fate itself had brought them together. Afterward, Olivia dashed down the stairs, rushing into the evening’s twilight to meet him again. They held each other tightly in the dim light, pulling at each other like two people destined to be together. Their kiss was long, deep, and filled with the kind of passion that could only come from defying the world. To anyone watching, their reunion would have seemed like a triumphant moment, as though they had finally overcome all obstacles and could be together at last. But what about me? I was her fiancé, the man who had cherished her, the man who had fought for her love. What had I done wrong? If she had just told me from the beginning that she loved someone else, I would have let her go. It wouldn’t have hurt as much as it did now. But she had lied to me, deceived me, and used me as her backup plan, her safety net. She shattered my dreams of love and marriage. She ruined the future I thought we would share. She had to pay for what she’d done. I copied all the surveillance footage, every second of it. Over the next few days, I took time off from work, pretending to be busy with wedding preparations. I told Olivia that I needed to go on a business trip of my own. Then I packed a few things and moved into a hotel. I set up surveillance at home, installing cameras everywhere, and even managed to install tracking software on her phone. I knew exactly where she was, what she was doing, and who she was with. It didn’t take long before I found out she had planned a big party the night before the wedding. A “wild” bachelorette party with a lot of guests. She even wrote about it in that blog post, signing off with her final update. I was filled with rage, but I forced myself to stay calm. I kept moving forward with my plan. A few days before the wedding, I returned home. The air still carried that sickening scent, but Olivia was oblivious to everything. She eagerly looked forward to the ceremony. On the day of the wedding, I invited everyone. Her friends, her family, and even her dying mother. The ceremony was lively and beautiful, with Olivia smiling radiantly. But then, in an instant, her smile froze on her face…

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In a daze, I overheard my childhood friend and the muscled guy debating who would get to keep me tonight. The more I listened, the stranger it sounded. Wait—what?! Turns out, they actually want to do that with me together—and here they are, passionately debating who’s on top and who’s on bottom?! Hold up, I haven’t agreed to any of this! How did these two already settle all the roles?! The moment I opened my eyes, I found myself stretched out in an embarrassing position in the empty school clinic, the pain bringing tears to my eyes. “Arnold Strong, you jerk! Get your foot off my hips!” But he had no intention of letting me go, pressing my knees down harder against the bed with his foot. On the other side, a pair of narrow, alluring eyes gazed at me, filled with danger as he murmured seductive words. “The wider the hips, the better. Let’s do it again.” A chill ran down my spine. They weren’t seriously trying to turn me into an Oreo sandwich, were they?! “Stop scaring him,” Arnold Strong shot an irritated look at James Whitaker but still spoke gently to me. “You just pulled a muscle running the 3,000 meters for the physical test. I was helping you.” “So… you mean running?” I let out a sigh of relief. James Whitaker smirked devilishly. “Not exactly.” He stepped closer, his hand trailing slowly down to my backside. “I don’t mean running,” he murmured. “I’m talking about doing things… not exactly suitable for kids—with Charles.” Smack. Arnold Strong angrily swatted James Whitaker’s hand away. “Are you nuts? Charles isn’t yours alone.” “I’ve known him since he was little, so of course he’s mine alone,” James shot back, pulling me closer. “And what about me, his brother? I’m still his class monitor, and I’m taking him back to class. What’s it to you?” Arnold snapped, grabbing my hand and trying to tug me off the bed. My hands were soon covered in red marks from all the tugging and pulling, and I finally couldn’t take it anymore, jumping up from the bed. James’s eyes flickered with a mix of disappointment and malice as he grabbed the fruit knife from the table, pointing it directly at me. “Tell me, Charles—are you coming with me, or with him?” Bro, you’re jealous of him! Why are you pointing the knife at me?!

Flashback to a month ago. While I was dating the school beauty, I happened to find a campus novel in her bag—a romance with two male leads. Next thing I knew, I was pulled into the story and became Charles, the beloved pawn caught between them. After all, Charles is the “goddess” my girlfriend has raved about for so long, and I’d even picked up on some of the book’s plot details from her. The two male leads? One is Arnold Strong, the bright and athletic class leader with both brains and brawn. The other is James Whitaker, my beautiful but frail neighbor. Through Charles, they meet, and—both fall in love with him. Although I don’t read many online novels, I know this basic trope well. Usually, as long as the protagonist’s ending matches what’s in the book, they can return to the real world. So I rolled up my sleeves, ready to dive in and wrap up the story early! “Hey, James, with the midterm exam coming up, can you help me review this weekend?” I knocked on the door next door, flashing a charming smile at James Whitaker. “No,” he replied, slamming the door shut with a cold expression. Great. Just great. I banged on the door again. “If you don’t help me, I’ll keep knocking all night!” “You’re so annoying,” James finally relented, swinging the door open. He leaned against the frame, his head propped up by his hand, looking both lazy and regal. I put on the cutest begging face I could muster and offered James Whitaker his favorite anime figurine with both hands. “Please!” James smiled, and though I sensed something else behind his gaze, he eventually agreed. Yes! I was secretly thrilled, so I shot a text to class leader Arnold Strong, asking him to come over on the weekend to help me study for the quiz. But when the weekend actually arrived, I was left utterly dumbfounded.

When these two met, it was like watching two mortal enemies clash—totally incompatible with each other. One mocked the other for being a sissy for collecting dolls, while the other laughed at him for being so clueless he couldn’t even solve the last question. “Can you guys keep it down for a minute?” I said, digging into my pocket in frustration. “Hey, where are my cigarettes?” Oh no! I forgot I’m Charles now—I’m still a student and can’t smoke! “Just kidding! I mean… where’s my pen?” “Really?” James Whitetaker stared at me with unfathomable eyes. I scratched my head and left this troubled place quickly, “Well… I’ll go out and look for it.” Arnord Strong followed me out, “Have you been under a lot of pressure from studying recently?” “Not… not so bad.” He took out a pen from his pocket and smiled shyly, “This is for you, don’t smoke.” Arnord Strong’s smile was warm and dazzling in the sunlight, When he took the pen, our fingertips touched each other, and a strange tingling feeling came up. “Then I’ll leave first, I really can’t stand your neighbor brother.” Arnold gave my shoulder a gentle pat, his hand almost brushing against my ear. Wow, up close, he’s… pretty handsome. Wait, what? Gross! I’m straight! Why am I reacting like this? I shook off the distracting thoughts and headed back to the room, ready to tackle another difficult challenge. But as soon as I stepped through the door, I found myself pinned against the wall. “What did he give you?” James Whitaker’s eyes narrowed, a threatening glint in them. I handed him the pen. “Here, it’s all yours.” Could it be that the two of them were just pretending to be at odds, while secretly being a happy-go-lucky duo? “I will definitely not snatch it from you, Brother James.” “That’s good to know.” James Whitaker scrutinized me from head to toe with a wicked grin, as if he were assessing something. Then, without warning, he pulled me into an embrace, pinched my chin, and kissed me.

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Elizabeth’s husband, William, clandestinely swapped the quota, diverting the kidney source that rightfully belonged to their daughter Isabella to the daughter of his goddess, Florence. Subsequently, Isabella’s condition deteriorated precipitously. Despite all rescue attempts, she passed away. Meanwhile, Florence underwent a successful kidney transplant, and William gleefully distributed red envelopes throughout the hospital. Elizabeth was consumed by fury and fainted. When she regained consciousness, she was informed that she had cancer and her life was now in the twilight. Despondent, Elizabeth left the hospital, clutching Isabella’s urn. In the cold and desolate home, she single – handedly drafted the divorce agreement. At ten o’clock in the evening, William finally arrived home. He shut the door, changed his shoes, and suddenly, the living – room lights blazed on, catching him off – guard. There was Elizabeth, seated in silence on the living – room sofa, cradling a white porcelain urn. She had been there, unmoving, for an indeterminate amount of time. “Elizabeth, have you lost your mind? Not sleeping in the middle of the night and scaring people like this?” William barked at her. Hearing his harsh reprimand, Elizabeth mechanically raised her head and regarded him. Even at this late hour, William’s hair was impeccably groomed, and his shirt was smooth and wrinkle – free. It was evident how crucial the mother and daughter he had been painstakingly attending to daily were to him – enough to make this usually laid – back man so meticulous about his appearance. Seeing that Elizabeth merely stared at him without speaking, William grew impatient. “Still holding a grudge over the kidney issue?” Elizabeth tightened her hold on the porcelain urn. “I’ve already told you, there will be other kidney sources in the future! I’m a doctor, and I must prioritize the patient. Florence is currently in the prime stage of recovery, and transplanting this kidney to her yields the best curative effect!” “I know you care about Isabella, but she had already waited for so long. Couldn’t she wait a bit longer? She’s my daughter, and I won’t abandon her…” William’s tone was saturated with impatience, making it seem as though Elizabeth was an irrational shrew. But it was truly just that brief span of time. After missing this kidney source, Isabella’s condition worsened rapidly, and she never opened her eyes again. Their daughter was so young. Before she died, she clasped Elizabeth’s hand tightly and asked where her father was, wondering if he no longer loved her. Elizabeth could only shower her with kisses on the cheek, assuring her that mommy was there and would always be by her side. Until her eyes closed forever, Isabella never got to see her father one last time. However, Florence, the daughter of William’s first love, survived because of the timely kidney source – which was clearly meant for Isabella! Elizabeth despised this hypocritical and selfish man with every fiber of her being and never wished to set eyes on him again in this life. Apparently deeming his scolding sufficient, William finally ceased and tossed his coat, which reeked of perfume, towards Elizabeth. “Take this and wash it thoroughly before I leave for work tomorrow. Remember to iron it smooth…” Seeing that Elizabeth remained motionless and didn’t reach out to catch it, allowing the coat to fall to the ground, William frowned. Elizabeth looked up, locking eyes with him, and stated firmly, “Let’s get divorced.” William was immediately dumbstruck. He seemed unable to fathom that these words were coming from Elizabeth’s mouth, disbelief and suspicion clouding his eyes. “What did you say???” Elizabeth forced a wry smile. “I said, William, I want a divorce from you.” As she spoke, she slid the divorce agreement she had drafted on the table towards him. “This is the divorce agreement. I don’t want any property. The Civil Affairs Bureau opens at nine o’clock tomorrow. Make sure to prepare the documents.” For an instant, the air in the living room seemed to solidify. William didn’t even glance at the agreement. Instead, visible rage gradually welled up within him. “Are you done yet?!” “Do you have to make a big deal out of this today? Florence needed this kidney source more than Isabella! Haven’t I made myself clear enough? Elizabeth, can’t you be less selfish?!” His angry glare pierced Elizabeth as if trying to force her to back down. Elizabeth completely disregarded him and calmly repeated, “William, I want a divorce – this is non – negotiable.” His face instantly turned cold and sullen, and then he sneered. “So you’ve learned to threaten me now, have you?” He picked up his coat, donned it with a tense expression, and turned to leave. Evidently, William decided that out of sight, out of mind, and he had no intention of staying home tonight. When he reached the door, he turned around and coldly warned Elizabeth, “Elizabeth, I’m warning you, even if we divorce, the custody of Isabella will be mine – you’d better not regret this!” With that, William slammed the door and departed. The living room was once again engulfed in suffocating silence. Elizabeth stroked the white porcelain urn in her arms as if soothing a terrified child. From the moment he entered until he left, William hadn’t bothered to inquire if his daughter had suffered pain that day or if she was asleep at this late hour. He hadn’t even cared about the volume of his voice, and the slamming of the door was deafening. From start to finish, he hadn’t even cared what the urn in Elizabeth’s arms held. Elizabeth stared at the empty doorway, her eyes vacant. William, you missed seeing Isabella one last time. You’re also doomed to miss seeing me one last time.

The next day, Elizabeth waited punctually at the entrance of the Civil Affairs Bureau. After nine o’clock passed and William still hadn’t arrived, Elizabeth promptly called him. An exasperated voice came from the other end, “Elizabeth! What else are you capable of besides throwing tantrums? Are you deliberately trying to make me miserable?” Elizabeth replied serenely, “Come and get divorced, William. Don’t make me despise you.” Eventually, he showed up. After signing names and affixing the stamps, the divorce certificate was in hands. William’s face was extremely unsightly, and he laughed in anger. “Fine, fine, fine. I really underestimated you.” “Don’t forget what I said. The custody of Isabella is mine! Elizabeth, I’ll give you three days to pack your things and send the child over – otherwise, I won’t hesitate to take you to court!” Watching his furious back, Elizabeth wanted to laugh, but a metallic taste of blood rose in her throat. William, Isabella is already dead, right on the day Florence’s surgery was successful. Are you happy? At least you saved the cost of a lawsuit. Elizabeth didn’t return to that home again. She had already incinerated all of Isabella’s belongings and discarded all of her own. She had also shredded all the family photos in the house. Recently, her health had been deteriorating rapidly, and there was often debris from her internal organs in the blood she spat out. She had been so adamant about obtaining the divorce certificate just to sever all connections with William – even in the afterlife. That day, Elizabeth took the luggage she had already packed and held Isabella’s urn as she returned to her hometown. Her parents had always respected her decisions. Just as in the past, when they clearly disliked William but still consented to her marriage to him just to make her happy. It was the same now. They looked at the urn in her arms and her gaunt body and had likely surmised what had transpired, but they didn’t pry further. They simply prepared nutritious meals for her daily and wiped away the blood that spurted from her mouth. Once again, after spitting blood until her voice was hoarse, Elizabeth looked at the pain in her parents’ eyes and felt nothing but remorse. She regretted burdening them during the final moments of her life. Probably sensing her thoughts, her mother tightly embraced her and couldn’t help but sob, “My dear, your father and I are so glad you came back – being able to accompany you in your last journey, we have no regrets!” Tears streamed down involuntarily, and Elizabeth finally found peace in her heart. On a sunny afternoon, Elizabeth sat in a rocking chair, with the grapes her mother had washed beside her. In the midsummer glow, Elizabeth saw Isabella. She was wearing the white dress Elizabeth had recently burned for her, lying on Elizabeth’s lap, beaming brightly at her. “Mommy! Isabella can touch you now!” Elizabeth held Isabella’s hand and watched as her parents placed her own urn beside Isabella’s. One large and one small, the two porcelain urns nestled together, just as Isabella used to sleep in Elizabeth’s embrace. Isabella blinked her clear, large eyes. “Mommy, Grandma and Grandpa can’t see us…” Elizabeth stroked her head. “But they hold us in their hearts.” Although they didn’t know why they still lingered in this world. But after seeing that her parents’ emotions had stabilized, Elizabeth decided to take Isabella to see her father. When she was alive, William had been entirely preoccupied with Florence in the adjacent ward. Isabella had yearned for her father’s visit daily but never got to see him in the end. Now, Elizabeth was going to fulfill her wish and let Isabella see him to her heart’s content. In the hospital, William had just emerged from the operating room. Isabella finally beheld the father she had longed for and excitedly flitted around him. But William was oblivious to her presence and sat there resting impassively. Another doctor passed by, and William, as if remembering something, called out to him. “Dr. Henry, how was my daughter’s recovery before she was discharged?” The doctor smiled. “She recovered splendidly. The treatment was highly timely, and there were no complications at all!”

Elizabeth was filled with confusion. Since William had admitted to switching the kidney source to Florence, Elizabeth had never trusted him again and had resolutely taken Isabella to transfer to another hospital. The doctors in the other hospital had assisted them in arranging a new kidney – source channel. After considering Isabella’s state of mind and conducting a condition assessment, Elizabeth then began taking her home to recuperate. Although three days later, Isabella’s condition suddenly worsened, and she was rushed back to the emergency room. But when they left the hospital where William worked, Isabella’s physical condition was far from good. How could this doctor say such things? But William had already believed it. He exhaled in relief, thanked the doctor, and then returned to work. After he left, Dr. Henry scratched his head. “What’s wrong with young William? Wasn’t he the one overseeing his daughter’s condition all the time?” “Didn’t he distribute red envelopes throughout the hospital when the surgery was so successful on the 13th? Has he forgotten so quickly?” Elizabeth was stupefied. Isabella tugged at Elizabeth’s hand beside her, her eyes shining brightly. “Mommy, did Daddy come to see me that day?” Elizabeth’s throat constricted, and she was rendered speechless. The 13th was the day Isabella couldn’t be saved and passed away. Elizabeth still vividly remembered her tiny form covered by the white sheet, her cold little hands, and her pallid face. And on that same day, Florence had received the life – saving kidney that was meant for Isabella. So, the people in this hospital had all mistaken Florence for William’s daughter. And on the 13th, William had joyously distributed red envelopes throughout the hospital. Even though souls couldn’t feel the cold, Elizabeth shivered. William, did you ever consider that while you were elated about Florence’s successful surgery, your own flesh – and – blood daughter was closing her eyes forever in another hospital six kilometers away? You had the time to give out red envelopes to everyone but couldn’t be bothered to answer the over – twenty calls I made to you. Isabella had been thinking of you until the moment she closed her eyes! Elizabeth didn’t know whether to feel sorrow or rage within and managed a bitter smile. William, you are completely unfit to be a father! Isabella sensed Elizabeth’s emotions and hugged her leg. “Mommy, don’t be sad anymore. Isabella will always be with you!” Whether she had guessed something or not, this time Isabella didn’t ask for her father again. In the evening, William got off work. Elizabeth took Isabella and trailed behind him home. Although she didn’t mention it, Isabella was still happy floating beside William. After all, which child doesn’t love their parents? When they reached the door, William took out his keys. The door opened, and Caroline and Florence, mother and daughter, came out to greet them. Elizabeth was thunderstruck. Even Isabella was too shocked to utter a word. Caroline, acting like the mistress of the house, took William’s briefcase and coat, smiling gracefully. “Welcome back. Dinner is ready. Go wash your hands.” Florence had recovered well and was bouncing around merrily. She was nothing like Elizabeth’s Isabella, whose soul seemed so fragile. William entered the house, stroked Florence’s head, and smiled tenderly at Caroline. “Caroline, thank you for your hard work.” Witnessing this scene, Elizabeth felt as if she had been struck hard. The first time she saw Caroline was when Isabella was in elementary school. Isabella had always been a lively and smiling little girl, but a few days into the second grade, she grew increasingly reticent. Elizabeth had initially thought it was a normal part of the child’s growing – up process. Until one time when she bathed her, Elizabeth discovered numerous purple and blue bruises under her clothes. The next day, Elizabeth sought out Isabella’s class teacher. “Miss Catherine, you must do something about this!” “How could a child be so malicious at such a young age? Do you know this is called school bullying?!” Elizabeth was trembling with fury. The class teacher attempted to placate her in a hushed tone but was at a loss for a solution, which only enraged Elizabeth further. After ranting alone for a while with no response from those around her, Elizabeth angrily turned around and saw William staring blankly in the opposite direction, looking at the girl who was the instigator of the school bullying, Florence – and her mother. In the end, this bullying incident was resolved with Caroline’s apology and William’s magnanimous forgiveness. Florence escaped any punishment. Elizabeth was incredulous and couldn’t accept the outcome. William forcefully dragged her away. When faced with Elizabeth’s inquiries, he showed not the slightest hint of guilt. “I know Caroline’s character. There must be some misunderstanding about this.” “She has a kind heart, and the daughter she raises will definitely not engage in bullying.” It was only then that Elizabeth learned that William had a goddess first love. They had been passionately in love during their youth but were forcibly separated. Until now, with William having a family and Caroline being a single mother, they had finally reunited by chance.

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I’ve been childhood friends with Jack for as long as I can remember, and I’ve had a secret crush on him for ten years. I always thought that if I waited long enough, he would eventually notice me. That is, until Jack’s birthday party. He showed up holding hands with my best friend, Vanessa. They kissed passionately amidst everyone’s congratulations. Then Jack said that to him, I was nothing more than a convenient helper. Jack has always been incredibly handsome, so he’s had a constant stream of admirers and girlfriends since we were young. I was the only one who stayed by his side all this time. I always thought I was special to him, carefully hiding my feelings while doing whatever he asked. Jack’s friends often teased him, saying, “Jack, you’ve got yourself a loyal little sidekick, don’t you?” Jack never denied it. This year, Jack turned twenty-four. One day, after waking up from a post-breakup drinking binge, I was in the kitchen cooking when Jack came up behind me and patted my head. “Tangerine,” he said, using my nickname, “what would I do without you? I’d probably starve to death, wouldn’t I?” “You know what? Maybe we should just get together,” he added casually. His offhand comment nearly stopped my heart. I froze, unable to speak. But Jack laughed it off first. “Just kidding. You’re not really my type.” I shooed Jack out of the kitchen and continued cooking alone. His two sentences had lifted me up, only to shatter me completely. After I finished cooking, I left. Jack lazily said goodbye, “Come back soon, Tangerine.” I didn’t answer, practically fleeing from his apartment. When I got home, my college roommate Vanessa was there, inviting me to eat some strawberries with her. Looking at Vanessa sitting on the couch in just her pajamas, her face bare of makeup yet still breathtakingly beautiful, I couldn’t help but feel dejected. If only I were that pretty, maybe Jack would like me. Of course, Jack has always been attracted to beautiful, glamorous, dazzling women. And me? I’m just ordinary, unremarkable. Like one of the countless stars in the sky – most people probably couldn’t even name me if they tried. Seeing me lost in thought, Vanessa pinched my cheek. “Why so dazed? You’ve been acting weird ever since you came back from seeing your crush today.” “Did you two have a fight?” Vanessa knew I had liked someone for a long time, so she occasionally teased me about it. I shook my head. “What crush? We’re just friends. Don’t make things up.” “Oh, come on. If you like him, just admit it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. If you like him, confess. If he doesn’t like you back, at least you can move on. Why torture yourself like this?” She was right, but it was hard for me to do. After all, I had liked him for ten years. But this time, I silently told myself: one last chance. If it doesn’t work out this time, I’ll give up. On my birthday, I invited Jack out for dinner. But I didn’t expect him to come to my rented apartment while I was out. Jack and Vanessa met face to face. They chatted briefly, but to me, they looked like a perfect match – the handsome guy and the beautiful girl. I dug my nails into my palms, telling myself it was nothing. After Vanessa left, Jack excitedly bumped my shoulder. “Wow, Tangerine! I can’t believe you never told me you had such a gorgeous friend.” “You never asked,” I replied. It’s true. He never cared about my studies, my life, or my friends. It had always been me chasing after him. “Hey, give me her SnapChat. I’ll treat you to something nice in return.” I shook my head, forcing myself to say, “She doesn’t like guys like you.” “Oh, come on. Just give it to me, will you?” In the end, I gave it to him. But I thought that since Vanessa had known me for so long and knew I liked Jack, she surely wouldn’t accept his advances. After that, Jack occasionally came to my rented apartment. He and Vanessa didn’t talk much; they weren’t very familiar with each other. This reassured me. I was planning to confess to Jack at his birthday party a month later. If it didn’t work out, I would give up. But I was sure it would work. After all this time, he must have noticed me by now. I prepared for a long time, deciding what to wear to the birthday party and even revising my confession speech more than a dozen times. However, I failed to notice Vanessa’s increasingly frequent late nights out and the happy smile on her face. On the day of Jack’s birthday, he invited many friends. I deliberately wore a beautiful long dress. Before I left, Vanessa gave me a strange look. Her words were odd too. “Why are you dressing up so formally for his birthday? People might think it’s a proposal or something.” I detected a hint of mockery in her words, but when I turned to look at her, she was just staring at her phone. When I arrived at the private room, Jack wasn’t there yet. I knew Jack’s friends, and they sat next to me, teasing, “Tangerine, you’re dressed so beautifully today. Are you going to confess to Jack?” “Good luck! If you succeed, you have to treat us all to drinks!” “Sure,” I agreed with a smile. Jack arrived half an hour later. Everyone was pushing me, ready to shove me in front of Jack as soon as he opened the door. But to everyone’s surprise, he walked in holding Vanessa’s hand. The hands pushing me suddenly stopped. The atmosphere instantly became awkward. I stood there holding a bouquet of flowers, feeling completely out of place. Vanessa broke the silence first. “Jack, look at the flowers Tangerine bought for you. Thank her, won’t you?” Jack tightened his grip on Vanessa’s hand. “How generous of you.” Then he turned to me and said perfunctorily, “Thanks, Tangerine.” For the rest of the evening, I hid in a corner, looking down at my now ridiculous dress and feeling utterly foolish. So, the feelings that all his friends knew about – how could he not have known? So, because I wasn’t pretty enough, I was destined not to be liked by him. But Vanessa, whom he had only known for a short time, could capture his heart. The sofa beside me dipped as Vanessa sat down. There was a smile on her face that didn’t reach her eyes. She apologized, “I’m sorry, Tangerine. I didn’t tell you about us getting together.” “But you can’t control these things in relationships. You should face reality.” I looked at her, shocked. I never expected Vanessa, whom I had known for years, to be like this. She dismissed my confusion with disdain. “Don’t you understand yet? He likes beautiful women.” I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t argue. For the rest of the evening, Jack blew out the candles on his cake, then embraced Vanessa and kissed her under the lights. At that moment, I decided: I don’t want to like Jack anymore, and I don’t want to be friends with Vanessa anymore. I took Jack’s house key out of my pocket and put it in Vanessa’s bag. As I was about to leave, Vanessa grabbed me. Her beautiful features were even more captivating as she spoke with a pitiful expression, “Tangerine, I know you’re angry with me. But I’m sorry, you can’t control love. I promise I’ll treat Jack well.” For a moment, I froze in place. Not just me, but Jack’s friends were stunned too. She was doing this on purpose, humiliating me in front of everyone. I wanted to say something, but Jack beat me to it. “What are you talking about? Tangerine and I are just like siblings. I’d never like someone like her. Right, Tangerine?” Fighting back tears, I looked at Jack and Vanessa in the silent room. “Yes, I used to like Jack. But from today on, I will never like Jack again. If I do, may I drop dead.” After I said this, Jack’s expression changed dramatically. “And Vanessa, I don’t want to be friends with you anymore. You disgust me.” With that, I left. But as soon as I got out the door, Jack caught up with me. His voice was cold. “Lily, apologize to Vanessa.” I shook off his hand. “Apologize my ass. I was an idiot for ever liking you.” Seeing Jack’s shocked expression, I turned and left. This time, he didn’t follow. I walked down the street in my dress, hunched over and sobbing uncontrollably. I cried for a long time before I noticed someone behind me. Through my tears, I saw a guy in a black hoodie standing not far away, watching me. He was quite handsome. I crouched down, picked up a brick, and pointed it at him. “If you keep following me, I’ll fight you to the death.” My outburst made everyone around us stare at me and the guy. The guy frowned slightly and walked towards me. “Wipe your tears and look at who I am.” I didn’t have any tissues, and I had been sniffling back my runny nose. How could I wipe my face? The guy sighed, rummaged in his pocket for a while, but found nothing. I watched him turn to a girl nearby and say, “Excuse me, do you have any tissues? I’ll pay for them. My friend just had a breakup.” Eventually, he got a pack of tissues. He stood in front of me, opened the pack, and started wiping my face, mixing my tears and snot together. I pushed him away, but at least I could see clearly now. The guy in front of me was very handsome, even more so than Jack. He frowned, “Do you recognize me now?” I shook my head. “No, who are you?” After I said this, the guy laughed coldly. “Last time you rode my bike to the department office to get a stamp, you punctured both my tires in four places. You even said, ‘Mr. President, I will forever remember your great kindness. Your image and smile will always be in my heart.’” “Oh, and now you don’t even remember what I look like?” ! I remembered now. It was Ryan, the former student council president. But he had stepped down half a year ago. It was normal that I didn’t remember him, right? I tried to sniffle back my runny nose. “What brings you here? Are you here to ask for compensation for your bike? Can we talk about it tomorrow? Waaah…” I was about to cry again when a tissue was thrust in my face. Ryan commanded coldly, “Cry again and you’ll have to pay for the bike.” “So… what are you doing here?” “I was out for dinner and saw you walking down the street with your mouth wide open, wailing like a mobile broadcast van. I came to see what the fuss was about. No good intentions here.” “…” How mean. “Have you seen enough then?” I lowered my head, feeling dejected. Ryan sighed and took off his hoodie, putting it over my head. “Stop crying. I’ll take you home. Are you living on campus or off-campus? It’s already 10 PM, it’s not safe for you to walk alone like this.” “Oh, thank you, Mr. President. When I have money, I’ll definitely pay you back for your bike tires.” “Don’t call me President anymore. I stepped down long ago. Call me Ryan.” It would take about 20 minutes to walk to my apartment from here, and I had been walking in the opposite direction earlier. Now I had to turn back. Ryan’s face seemed to attract a lot of attention, but more people seemed to be looking at me. I blinked, and an eyelash fell out. Oh right, I had put on fake eyelashes today for my confession to Jack. They cost over ten dollars a pair. What a waste. Suddenly, I remembered that I still shared an apartment with Vanessa. I sniffled and looked at Ryan sheepishly. “I have a favor to ask.” He glanced at me, frowning without hesitation. “Then don’t ask.” “Please, I’m begging you. My best friend got together with the guy I’ve liked for ten years. Will you help me move out if I tell you the whole story?” “… At 10:30 PM? Moving? Have you even thought about where you’re going to move to?” “No! But even if I have to sleep on the streets, I have to move out!” Ryan closed his eyes helplessly, pondering for a long time before finally agreeing. “Stop crying. Fine, we’ll move. I must be crazy to get involved in this mess.” I called a moving van, and it took Ryan and me back to my rented apartment. This kind-hearted sucker started helping me move. He was really efficient at it. But we had only moved half of my stuff when Vanessa and Jack came back. They stared at the mess of things at the door and Ryan and me bustling in and out. After a moment, Vanessa shrieked, “Lily, what are you doing?” I glanced at her without answering. As Ryan passed by Jack carrying my oven, he deliberately bumped into him hard. Then he turned back to ask me, “Why does a college student living in a rented apartment need an oven?” This oven was actually bought to bake cupcakes for Jack, and Vanessa had eaten plenty of them too. In the end, she betrayed me because of Jack’s hurtful words about me. I guess those cupcakes were wasted on ungrateful dogs. I glanced at Jack and Vanessa before answering, “I bought it to bake cupcakes for these two-timing dogs.”

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My husband’s lover was found dead, brutally murdered. That afternoon, both he and I were brought to the police station. I hadn’t known about his affair; if not for the murder, I might never have found out. The Central Police Station collected our fingerprints and asked us to account for our whereabouts during the time of Melanie Reed’s death. She was 28, an office employee, killed around 11 p.m. on July 30, 2019. The cause of death was blood loss from a severed carotid artery, inflicted by a sharp object. Today marked the third day since Melanie’s death. Content It had only been three days, so I recalled the timeframe clearly. I was certain my husband had been with me that night, sleeping soundly beside me. I told them the truth without hesitation. The officers at the Central Police Station questioned us separately. I was interviewed by a man and a woman. The man, Detective Mark Callahan, was about thirty and the deputy head of the major crimes unit. The woman, Detective Hannah Shaw, appeared to be in her late twenties and was strikingly attractive. Perhaps they saw I was visibly upset, especially as a pregnant woman who’d just learned of her husband’s infidelity, and wanted to tread lightly. Detective Shaw, especially, asked me questions with a gentleness in her gaze. “Mrs. Langston,” she began, “can you try to remember if your husband left the house that night? Could he have possibly gone out while you were asleep?” Caught off guard, I paused before answering, “Detective Shaw, since I’ve been pregnant, I’ve been sleeping very deeply and go to bed early. I can only say that my husband was there both before I fell asleep and after I woke up.” Detective Shaw and Detective Callahan exchanged a look. Curiosity got the better of me, so I asked, “Detective Shaw, can’t DNA be collected from the victim? If you suspect my husband, shouldn’t you test him for it?” Though I said this calmly, I was seething inside. They’d been lovers; why would he have needed to assault her? The killer couldn’t possibly be my husband. Detective Shaw shook her head. “The perpetrator was careful and didn’t leave any viable evidence. It makes this case a bit complicated.” I nodded in understanding. Then she asked me how far along I was, and I told her a little over four months. She glanced at my belly, noting that it looked large and suggesting I might be carrying twins. She reminded me that pregnant women are prone to emotional swings and encouraged me to try to stay calm. I appreciated her words, and after a few more polite exchanges, I left the station. I thought my husband would be coming home with me, but Detective Callahan told me he’d need to stay to assist with the investigation. Unable to do anything else, I went home alone. When I got back to Maplewood Apartments, a neighbor told me the police had shown up in force, checked the security footage, and questioned the neighbors. They’d asked if anyone had heard our door open between 9 p.m. and early morning on July 30. I asked what my neighbor had told them, and she said she hadn’t heard anything. I felt reassured hearing that. Since I assumed my husband would be staying the night at the station, I tried calling him. He didn’t answer, so I ate dinner and went to bed. But just as I started to drift off, he came home. As usual, he was distant. I offered to reheat some food for him, but he waved me off. “Honey,” I asked, “why didn’t you pick up when I called earlier?” He replied that the police had confiscated his phone to copy his text and call logs. Just thinking about his messages with that woman made my stomach turn, but for the sake of our unborn child, I pushed it aside. After all, the woman was dead—what was the point of dwelling on it? But I was wrong. Just because I didn’t care didn’t mean he didn’t. Shortly after I fell asleep, I felt a strong pressure around my throat, jolting me awake. My husband was strangling me with a look of pure rage, his grip tightening as if he intended to kill me.

I struggled, gasping, trying to plead with him, “H-honey… I’m pregnant with your child… do you… do you really want to end two lives?” At those words, he slowly released me, though his hands dug into my shoulders as he leaned in, his bloodshot eyes filled with fury. “Jessica, was it you? Did you hire someone to kill Melanie?” His fury terrified me, and I stammered, “Honey, you… you’ve got it all wrong. I wouldn’t have the nerve.” “Really? You’d better hope it wasn’t you, or I’ll personally see to it that you pay.” With that, he glared at me with a chilling hatred, climbed out of bed, and stormed out of the room. He didn’t come back to our bedroom that night, leaving me lying awake, haunted by the look in his eyes. It wasn’t until dawn that I drifted into a fitful sleep. I woke to the doorbell ringing. After a moment, realizing no one was answering, I groggily went downstairs to open it. But as I came down the stairs, I froze. There, slumped on the couch, was my husband, completely still. A pool of blood lay beneath him, and on the coffee table, a bloodied surgical scalpel. I let out a scream. I couldn’t look a second time—the sight was too horrifying. My body felt weak and I collapsed to the floor, trembling. The doorbell rang on, even more urgently after hearing my scream. I wanted to get up and answer it, but I couldn’t move, paralyzed by shock. All I could do was sit there, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn’t know how much time had passed before the door was forced open. Detective Shaw and Detective Callahan entered, followed by two officers in uniform. When they saw my husband, they were visibly startled. Detective Callahan called for the coroner immediately, while Detective Shaw gently lifted me off the floor as I continued crying. The coroner arrived quickly, concluding that my husband’s death was a suicide, occurring around two in the morning. His expression seemed tortured, as if he’d experienced something terrifying in his final moments. Detective Callahan told me that my husband was the one who’d killed Melanie Reed. I didn’t believe it, but he said the evidence was solid. He explained that the police had reviewed footage from both Maplewood Apartments and Melanie’s complex. While my husband had avoided our building’s security cameras, he’d been unfamiliar with her building, and at 10 p.m. on the night of her murder, he’d been caught on one of their cameras. I was in disbelief, but Detective Callahan went on to explain that they’d found messages between my husband and Melanie on his phone, where they’d arranged to meet up that night. They concluded that my husband had likely killed her and taken his own life out of guilt. I felt numb, slumping to the ground, my body shaking uncontrollably. The police took my husband’s body away for further examination, and my home was marked off as a crime scene. The blood on the floor made me feel sick to my core. After taking my statement, Detective Shaw placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and asked quietly, “Jessica, I see you have bruises on your neck. Did Steven… hurt you?” Her question brought last night’s events rushing back. Wiping away tears, I admitted, “Last night, I confronted him about the affair, and he… lost control.” Detective Shaw looked thoughtful, hesitating before saying, “The neck is a vulnerable area. It seems like he was trying to hurt you badly. Why didn’t you report it?”

Her words took me by surprise. I took a deep breath, clutching my neck. “Detective Shaw, he was my husband. And he was the father of my child.” Seeing my reaction, Detective Shaw didn’t press further. As they were leaving, she suggested I stay at a nearby hotel if I felt unsafe at home and assured me I could reach out to her if I needed anything. I nodded, watching them go. Coming from a small town like Charleston, South Carolina, I had no one nearby—my family was far away. My husband’s family, too, lived a state over. We’d settled here after college, bought this big house, but now it was just me here alone. The thought filled me with a strange sorrow. I packed a few clothes and went to the nearest hotel, The Crescent. After a quick meal, I took out my husband’s bank cards. I called the bank’s hotline, and after checking the balances, I discovered he had over half a million dollars saved. I didn’t know his bank PIN, but recently, I’d gone to the store with him to shop for baby things, and while he paid, I’d memorized his payment code. Guessing he used the same password for all his accounts, I tried it once—and it worked. Since becoming pregnant, I’d had severe morning sickness and had quit my job as a makeup artist. My husband had always been stingy with money, giving me only three thousand a month, which barely covered my living expenses. With the bank cards secured, I felt exhausted and fell asleep on the bed, where I drifted into a nightmare. I dreamt that I was paralyzed, lying in bed as Melanie and my husband, Steven, stared at me with twisted smiles, reaching out to strangle me together. I jolted awake, parched and shaken, reaching for a glass of water. That’s when my phone rang. Seeing it was Detective Shaw, my heart skipped a beat. Taking a deep breath, I answered. She asked which hotel I was staying at, saying there was something more she needed to discuss with me. I gave her the hotel’s name, and she arrived about half an hour later, alone this time. I invited her in, and Detective Shaw smiled as she asked, “Mrs. Langston, although your husband’s death appears to be a suicide, the autopsy showed a high dose of diazepam in his system. Was he using it to treat a condition?” “Diazepam?” I paused, thinking, and replied, “That’s a sleeping aid, right? He had insomnia. Sometimes he’d take a couple of tablets if he couldn’t sleep.” “Is that so? Because the dose in his system was more than two pills—closer to five. What do you make of that?” Detective Shaw’s words made me laugh.

My laugh sounded more like crying. With a sigh, I said, “Detective Shaw, if you were in my husband’s place and your lover suddenly died like that, could you sleep? And if you couldn’t sleep, wouldn’t you take a higher dose than usual?” Detective Shaw was silent for a moment, her gaze intense. Finally, she replied, “Mrs. Langston, with your husband just having passed, I thought you’d be lost in grief. I didn’t expect you to check his account balances so quickly.” Her words caught me off guard, and she continued, “We found that your husband’s parents are still alive, and they’ve just lost their only son. Have you thought about notifying them?” “They’re elderly,” I said, with no attempt to mask my annoyance. “I haven’t figured out what to say yet. I’m expecting a child, and I have to think about the future, Detective. You all seem awfully nosy.” My tone was sharp, surprising her. For a moment, she looked taken aback, as if she hadn’t expected me to have any bite. She forced a slight smile and muttered an apology. Before leaving, she shared one last detail, saying a security camera across the street had recently been realigned due to wiring issues. It now pointed toward my living room, capturing part of what went on inside. She gave me a knowing smile before she left. Her words left me sleepless and anxious that night. As expected, she called the next day, asking me to come down to the police station. They’d uncovered something new in my husband’s death. Heart pounding, I went in, escorted straight to the interrogation room, where Detective Shaw and Detective Callahan awaited me. I sat quietly, waiting for them to start. Detective Callahan turned on a screen, playing a video of a woman in a long dress. The footage was blurry, her face obscured by wild, messy hair. She looked like a ghost as she moved slowly down a staircase, stepped to a window, and pulled the curtain closed. Then the screen went dark. I squinted at the screen, recognizing my living room, but feeling deeply confused. “Detective Shaw, Detective Callahan,” I asked, “Who is that woman? And what was she doing in my house?” The two detectives exchanged a look and smiled. Detective Shaw said, “Mrs. Langston, on the night of your husband’s death, only you and he were at home. Are you saying this wasn’t you?” “It wasn’t me!” I said, feeling my anger rise. Detective Callahan replied calmly, “Couldn’t you have painted your face, done some makeup to look like a ghost?” “I’m pregnant,” I retorted. “There’s no way that was me.” My response left them momentarily speechless. Detective Shaw then added decisively, “The woman in the video certainly resembles Melanie Reed, but we don’t believe in ghosts, Mrs. Langston. Would you mind if I checked your stomach?” Her question made me laugh bitterly. “So, you’re accusing me of faking a pregnancy?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295040”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #重生Reborn #校园School #惊悚Thriller #擦边Steamy