Category: English

It was my fiancée, Sophia, who first suggested a getaway with her best friends. I should have seen it coming. Her male best friend, Arthur, was in charge of the snacks. He’d swapped out the beef sauce on the pizza for crawfish paste, something I’m severely allergic to. After I took a bite, tiny red patches immediately flared across my face. Arthur just chuckled, “See? You can eat it, can’t you?” I frantically searched for my epinephrine auto-injector, only to find the storage box completely empty. Sophia, seeing my reaction, merely paused for a moment before explaining, “Arthur is scared of needles, so I threw them all out. Just drink some water, you’ll be fine.” But the red rash was already spreading, crawling across my face and down my neck, an angry tide. “How could I have left them where he could see them? I could die!” I stammered, my voice tight with panic. She, however, looked annoyed. “Who hasn’t had an allergy before? How serious could it be? Don’t be such a drama queen.” She then turned, pulling her now-sobbing male friend into a comforting embrace, murmuring soothing words. I couldn’t utter another sound. My fingers fumbled for my phone, sending a desperate text to my father: “Dad, I ate seafood, but Sophia threw away all my injectors.” … My hands clutched at my face, the burning sensation almost unbearable. “Sophia, tell me, where did you throw them?!” Perhaps my voice was too loud. Arthur flinched, as if startled, which only made Sophia tense up further. “Finn Marston! Aren’t you suffocating with your hands over your face? Can’t you act like a man?” My face was already swelling, but Sophia just gave me an impatient glare, her words dripping with ice. “You know I have a severe allergic reaction to seafood, Sophia,” I tried to reason again, hoping she might show a flicker of concern. But she merely rolled her eyes, her gaze already fixed on her phone, fingers flying across the screen. Her friends’ phones chirped continuously, and they kept stealing glances at me, giggling behind their hands. My heart sank. I stood numbly outside the hot spring, utterly lost. Arthur, however, walked closer, and with a sudden jerk, pulled my hands away from my face. “Oh, big brother’s face is a little flushed. Could it be from seeing Sophia’s friends in bikinis?” He let out a snicker, and the women around us, hearing him, huffed in indignation and splashed water at me. The hot spring water was lukewarm, but the splash drenched my upper body, and the burning sensation intensified, spreading like wildfire. Despite Sophia’s disapproving glare, I grabbed Arthur’s collar, though I barely had the strength to hold on. “Tell me, where did you throw them?!” Arthur shoved my hand away, a sneer twisting his lips, the cruelty in his eyes now starkly visible. “So eager to know?” He stepped closer, forcing me back a few staggering steps. My foot accidentally landed on some scattered women’s underwear on the ground. By the time I realized what had happened, it was too late. “Ugh, a pervert! That’s my freshly changed underwear! Sophia, control your boyfriend!” “Seriously, Sophia, what kind of person do you bring home?” I lifted my foot in shock, my gaze meeting Sophia’s. “Finn Marston.” Her voice was low and dangerous. “Are you done making a scene?” I was too stunned to explain, too mortified to meet her eyes. My body felt as if a thousand ants were crawling under my skin. “Sister, it’s not his fault. He accidentally stepped on it when he grabbed me. It wasn’t on purpose.” Arthur seized the opportunity to slink back to Sophia, his voice soft and innocent. “Arthur was just trying to be concerned, and you laid hands on him?” Sophia’s anger flared once more, expertly stoked by him. I was about to explain, but Arthur cut me off. “Finn, I’ll pour you a glass of water. Calm down, and forgive me.” With that, he scurried to the outdoor water dispenser. As he filled the cup, he cast a wary glance at me. Then, I saw him squeeze some unknown liquid into the water. “Finn, it’s all my fault you and Sister Sophia are fighting. Have some water to cool down.” As soon as the water was brought to me, a sharp citrus scent assaulted my nostrils. The itching on my body intensified. I endured the discomfort, and under Sophia’s watchful eye, took the glass. The moment our hands met, Arthur suddenly pressed hard on the bottom of the cup, splashing water all over my face. “Ah— Arthur, what are you doing!” The acidic liquid, combined with my sensitive, reddened skin, ignited an even more intense stinging, making me cry out in pain. All eyes turned to me, but Arthur’s tears came first. He darted behind Sophia. “I didn’t do anything! Finn isn’t trying to frame me for splashing water on himself, is he? I was just trying to show some concern for him when he suddenly knocked over the water…” Sophia’s face hardened. She strode towards me. Then, a sharp, stinging slap landed hard on my cheek. “Finn Marston, have you made enough of a scene? So he gave you seafood, but you’re fine now, aren’t you? What more do you want?!” The lemon juice continued to irritate, and my entire body began to swell. After Sophia’s slap, my lips started to turn blue. “Sophia! Where are they?! I’m seriously going to die!” I was on the verge of falling to my knees, ready to abandon all dignity in front of everyone. But Sophia was completely unmoved. “You dare to yell at me?” she said, her expression alien. A ripple of whispers ran through the women. “Finn, your emotions are so unstable. If you’re like this around Sister Sophia, you might become abusive…” Sophia’s gaze sharpened, piercing me with accusation. I wanted to defend myself, but no words came. In the silence, Arthur naturally took Sophia’s hand, swaying gently. Sophia looked at him with a tenderness I had never seen her direct at me. “Sister, you know I can get very overwhelmed by sharp objects…” My eyes burned as I stared at their intertwined fingers, a sharp pain piercing my chest. Just as I was about to speak, Sophia’s gentle demeanor vanished, replaced by an expression of pure disgust as she looked at me. “Enough. I think you just want to use those stupid needles to hurt Arthur. How can you be so malicious? Don’t you dare bring that up again.” I briefly glanced at Arthur, wanting to speak again, but a sudden shortness of breath seized me. Then, my vision swam, and I collapsed painfully to the ground. Everyone was momentarily startled by my collapse, but it was just a moment. “Sophia, did you find this boyfriend at a circus? He’s quite the entertainer.” “Look at his nose, so red. Doesn’t he look like a clown?” “Hahaha…” Sophia heard the escalating laughter of her friends, and her face flushed with embarrassment. She then kicked me again. “If you’re not dead, get up. Get out.” The kick landed squarely on my chest. My chest, already suffering from the allergic reaction, seized up violently. “Cough… cough!” Blood spewed from my mouth. Seeing me like this, her disgust only deepened. “Sister, why don’t you go play with your friends? I’ll take care of Finn. Don’t let him ruin your mood.” Arthur spoke first, putting on a show of “easing her burden.” After Sophia turned and re-entered the hot spring, he squatted beside me, pulling at my ear. “Finn Marston, you’re all red and disgusting,” he whispered. “How about I tell you? Your medicine? It’s in the trash can at the foot of the mountain. Are you going to go?” My face was flushed, my body racked with intense itching, too weak to even shake off his hand, let alone stand up and walk the ten miles of winding mountain road to the foot of the hill. “Foot of the mountain… why…” I moaned in agony, but Arthur’s eyes sparkled with more excitement. In a haze, I noticed my messenger bag under the table. I remembered it contained my best antihistamines. While not as effective as the auto-injector, they could slow down an acute reaction. A flicker of hope ignited within me. Ignoring Arthur’s taunts, I hunched forward, reaching my hand under the table. Just a little more, and I’d have it. I strained my body, my fingers almost touching the pills. But Arthur suddenly stood up. With a swift kick, he sent the pills skittering into the nearby pool. My heart plummeted with them. “Arthur! What are you doing!” I screamed hysterically, my eyes blazing with furious fire. “Doing? My foot slipped.” Arthur brutally stepped on my outstretched hand, watching me with amused interest. “This medicine isn’t as good as the injector, is it? I’ll escort you to the gate, you can go get that one, Finn.” With that, he grabbed my arm and dragged me, face-down, forward. The path around the hot spring was covered in jagged, colorful gravel. My exposed upper body scraped against the ground, the intense tearing sensation threatening to make me pass out. He dragged me like this for a full mile. By the time we reached the gate, my back was raw, a bloody mess of torn skin. Arthur then urinated on me. The overwhelming stench choked me. I couldn’t open my eyes, but the vile liquid made me sickeningly aware. Aware of the agonizing pain throughout my body—the swelling, the lacerations, the acidic burning… and the profound humiliation. Seeing me in such agony, unable to open my eyes, Arthur contentedly zipped up his pants. Then, footsteps approached. “Arthur? I saw a puddle of rotten flesh and a lot of blood on the road! The girls are terrified!” Sophia, in her high-heeled sandals, walked up, failing to notice me hidden just outside the villa gate. Arthur visibly panicked for a moment, then quickly composed himself, adopting his usual “puppy dog” expression. “Sister, the cook accidentally spilled some scraps of meat, I haven’t had a chance to clean it up yet.” “But what about Finn? He’s not really hurt, is he? He really is allergic to crawfish…” Hearing Sophia’s concern for me, Arthur cast a jealous glance my way. I let out a cold laugh, though my lips instantly screamed in pain. “I couldn’t argue with Finn. He asked me where the injector was discarded, so he ran off to look for it.” He then added, “See, my hand is all bruised from him pulling on it.” Bruised? Yes, that was true, but it was from when he beat me. “What! He hit you again, that despicable man, so vicious!” From my spot in the corner, I watched as Arthur’s hand was taken, gently caressed, and mourned. “Don’t mind him. Sister will take you to put some ointment on it.” When Arthur’s back disappeared from my sight, I finally passed out completely. I don’t know how much time passed, but large raindrops pelting down roused me from unconsciousness. The sudden coolness brought some relief to the burning pain on my body, but blood still flowed relentlessly from beneath me. The door creaked open again. Arthur, holding a clear umbrella, slowly approached me, examining me carefully. “Didn’t you say you were dying? How come you’re not dead yet?” He pulled an engraving knife from his chest pocket. The blade glinted, momentarily blinding me. “Your face is handsome, it’s no wonder Sister Sophia likes you. But if I carve a line across it, will she completely despise you?” he said nonchalantly, a truly grotesque smile on his face. “Arthur, so you’re this despicable because of your inner insecurity?” I struggled against the swelling on my face, forcing my eyes open as wide as possible, mercilessly mocking him. He seemed to have been struck by something personal. His expression hardened, and the engraving knife slashed across my face, leaving a long, deep gash. Pain. This time, I didn’t cry out. I just silently registered the agony on my face. “Arthur. Let your death countdown begin.” “When I die, my father will flay you alive. Your pain won’t be a single fraction less than mine. It will only be more, not less.” “But, I also can’t die from such humiliation.” “After all, I am the son of the richest man in the city.” “And now I’m enduring this bastard’s torment, to be secretly done to death by him.” “And Sophia, she’s just the daughter of a small-time business owner.” “I meticulously maintained her self-respect, yet she simply threw my dignity to the ground and crushed it.” “I refuse to accept this.”

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I lived with Larry Evans for three years. We occasionally slept together, but we never kissed. It was the purest form of “friends with benefits.” Until I accidentally saw him and his secretary acting intimately, her freely entering and leaving his private space. I understood, and discreetly packed up my things. That night, as I left, I sent him a farewell text: “I’m going back home to get married. Let’s not keep in touch anymore.” Later, I was seeing off a blind date. I turned around and met Larry’s gaze. He could no longer maintain his facade of gentle rationality, pressing me against the wall in a fit of rage: “What does he have that I don’t? Money, power… or is he just better at pleasing you?” 1. Near the end of the workday, a sudden heavy rain poured down. My colleague, Maya Chen, had forgotten her umbrella and sidled up to me, hoping to share mine. I didn’t refuse. As I looked down, opening the umbrella, I heard Maya sigh with envy: “It really is best to be a secretary, isn’t it? First dibs. Anna Miller has only been here three weeks and she’s already sharing an umbrella with Mr. Evans. After three months, will we all be calling her Mrs. Evans?” I looked up. My gaze pierced through the rain, settling on the black umbrella. Two figures walked side-by-side. Larry strode ahead, and Anna jogged to keep up behind him. She ran too quickly, lost her balance, gasped, and stumbled towards the ground. Larry reached out just in time, steadying her by the waist. The scene unfolded perfectly, like a classic romance drama on TV. I averted my eyes, shook the umbrella handle, and thousands of raindrops plummeted to the ground, creating ripples. “Aren’t you going? If the rain gets any heavier, we won’t be able to leave.” I prompted. Maya, seeing I wasn’t responding, poked my arm helplessly. “That’s Mr. Evans, young, accomplished, and impeccably principled – everyone at the company puts him on a pedestal. Aren’t you even a little tempted?” She finished, not waiting for my answer, then made a dramatic gesture, clutching her heart as if in pain. “Anyway, my heart is aching to see someone else claim Mr. Evans’s passenger seat.” Maya’s theatrics made me chuckle. I took out my car keys and pressed the button; the lights of my Audi on the roadside flashed on. I playfully lifted her chin and smiled, “You might not get to sit in Mr. Evans’s passenger seat, but how about sitting in mine?” 2. Dropping Maya off took a bit longer than expected. When I pushed open the door, Larry had just finished placing the last dish on the dining table. He was wearing comfortable loungewear, and the apron he had on seemed to be a matching couple’s set the mall had given us during our last grocery run. Under the warm yellow light from above, the usual aloofness that came from his immersion in the business world melted away, leaving only a gentle, soft demeanor. Larry stepped forward, took my bag, and hung it on the coat rack. Then he bent down, taking out my slippers and placing them by my feet. His fingertips naturally brushed against the ankle strap of my high heel, a warm sensation against my cold skin. I stiffly took half a step back, declining his help. “I can do it myself.” Larry paused, but said nothing. “I made your favorite pork ribs with pumpkin. Go wash your hands and eat while it’s hot.” I silently changed my shoes and walked to the sink. As the water ran through my fingers, my thoughts drifted. Three years of living together, and Larry and I had done quite a few things that crossed the line. Helping me take off my shoes was a trivial matter. But just now, as Larry leaned in, an unusual sense of resistance welled up inside me. I knew why, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was because of Anna, and because of myself. Over these three years, living together day after day like a frog slowly boiling in warm water, I’d forgotten that Larry and I’s beginning was nothing more than a drunken, passionate haze. I’d forgotten that his kindness towards me was simply good manners. I had uncontrollably fallen in, mistaking physical needs for love. Anna’s appearance had jolted me awake, a harsh realization. Thankfully, it wasn’t too late to pull away now. 3. I ate that meal without much enthusiasm, taking only a few bites before putting down my chopsticks and going upstairs to wash up. When I came out of the bathroom, Larry was waiting outside the door. His brow was furrowed, and his gaze, fixed on me, was filled with worry. For a moment, I didn’t know how to act towards Larry, so I simply ignored him. As I brushed past him, Larry grabbed my wrist. His grip was tight, as if he meant to leave an indelible red mark on my skin. “Today, you…” I sensed what Larry was about to ask. So, I cut him off. “Is it… time?” A flicker of surprise crossed Larry’s eyes. I didn’t give him a chance to react, stepping onto my toes and initiating a kiss. But gradually, Larry took over the lead. His palm pressed against the back of my head, deepening what had started as a tentative kiss. Larry couldn’t even wait the few steps back to the bedroom. He pushed me back into the bathroom. The humid steam hadn’t yet dissipated in the bathroom. Through my thin nightgown, I was pressed against the cold, damp tiles. Larry was my only source of warmth. I could only wrap my arms around his neck, forced to endure everything he brought. I bit my tongue, suppressing the tremor in my throat. It felt like a competition; speaking first would be revealing my hand, losing everything. I didn’t want to lose too badly. Sweat matted my hair to my forehead. Larry reached up and pushed it away. He lowered his head, tenderly kissing away the tears that spilled from my eyes. “Don’t hold back, call my name, please?” It was always like this. Larry was always like this, using soft, coaxing tones, weaving illusions of love that made me fall into them. Before an uncontrollable sob could escape, I bit hard into Larry’s shoulder. Even tasting the metallic tang of blood, I didn’t let go. Larry grunted in pain, then chuckled softly in my ear, “I really can’t do anything with you.” In the end, I had no strength left. Larry carried me back to the bedroom. In a daze, I felt my left hand being gently stroked. I curled my fingertips and asked in a hoarse voice, “What’s wrong?” Larry seemed not to have expected me to still be awake. He coughed lightly, as if covering something up, then intertwined our fingers. “Nothing, go to sleep.” 4. Everything that happened on that rainy night dried up with the bright, clear day. I had been on a business trip for over half a month, working non-stop, and had no mind to revisit those memories. So, when I carried my suitcase and entered the password, only to run directly into Anna, I couldn’t help but feel a moment of bewilderment. Anna was wearing a lace slip dress. I recognized it immediately as the one I had tucked away in Larry’s closet. Anna’s gaze, initially joyful, turned into a subtle hostility when she saw it was me. She curved her lips into a smile and, in the tone of a hostess, greeted me: “Miss Reed, is there something you need?” I rubbed my temples, which ached from exhaustion. I didn’t shriek questions at Anna about why she was there, nor did I press Larry about his whereabouts. I simply returned a calm smile. “I’m just packing up some things, and then I’ll be leaving.” After all, I had lived there for three years. I went up and down several times before managing to pack all my belongings. I even took the rose bush I’d grown on the balcony, even though Larry had been the one watering it all these years. I was loaded down with bags. Anna glanced at me and prompted, “Miss Reed, you should check carefully to see if you’ve left anything behind.” She tilted her chin, a hint of sharpness in her otherwise sweet, compliant face. “After all, there’s a new person here, and old things should be thrown out. If anything’s left behind, it would be a shame for you to have to pick it out of the trash.” The curve of my lips didn’t change. “Now that you mention it, I just remembered… I do have one last thing I haven’t taken.” My gaze swept over Anna, my eyebrows slightly raised. “The slip dress you’re wearing is mine. Do you want to take it off for me?” “You!” Anna covered her chest, her face flushing with indignation. I didn’t want to descend into a verbal battle with her. I waved my hand and said blandly, “Never mind. I have a bit of a germ phobia. It’s yours.” 5. I returned to my old rented apartment with my heavy luggage. Even after moving in with Larry, I had never given it up. Probably because I was too pessimistic, feeling that everything with Larry was nothing but a mirage. Eventually, I would wake from the dream. It was fortunate that I was so pessimistic, allowing me a place to stay now. I quickly washed up. Unable to fight off the exhaustion from working non-stop, I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke again, it was already evening. Endless darkness swallowed me. My heart suddenly skipped a beat, filled with an indescribable loneliness. This feeling was like being abandoned by the world. Fortunately, this mood didn’t last too long, broken by the sudden ring of my phone. I picked up, and my mother’s voice reached my ear. What she said wasn’t new. It was just the same old worries, asking if I was eating and sleeping well, if work was going smoothly—the same familiar questions she’d repeated for years. I listened quietly, responding occasionally. Finally, a slight catch in my mother’s gentle voice. “Audrey, are you coming home for the holidays this year?” I wasn’t sure why my mother was asking about holiday plans so early, but I answered truthfully: “Not sure yet. Why?” There was a pause before she replied, “It’s nothing. Mom just hasn’t seen you in a long time and misses you a bit.” Her words hit me like a hammer to the chest. A dull ache of sadness welled up. I grew up in a single-parent home. My concept of family was always vague. My childhood memories were only of my father, idle and drunk every day. He had a bad reputation, involved in gambling, drinking, and womanizing. When he won money, my mother and I had it better; at least we weren’t beaten. But when he lost, it was different. He’d get violent from the alcohol, grab my mother’s hair, and drag her into the bedroom, where only a single bare bulb dimly glowed, like a butcher dragging prey to slaughter. The old house was in disrepair, and the door didn’t close tightly. At just five years old, I was forced to watch my mother suffer through a narrow crack in the door. Inside, my mother’s piercing screams echoed. Outside, I cried, my hands bruised and bloody from hitting the door. I couldn’t break it down. I couldn’t stop the torture from continuing. This went on for a long time. Until the day my father’s veined fist landed on me. My usually submissive mother suddenly fought back. She grabbed a kitchen knife and swung it wildly. “You animal! If you dare touch Audrey, none of us will live!” Her black hair was disheveled, and blood seeped from the wound on her forehead. At first glance, she looked like a demon crawled out of hell. My father was startled and stormed out, cursing. My mother put down the knife, suddenly losing all strength, and pulled me into her arms. Tears dripped, soaking my hair, and her voice choked out, “Don’t be afraid, Audrey. Mom will take you away.” Later, my mother single-handedly supported our home. She fought tooth and nail to put me through school. All I could do was study hard, work hard, and succeed so she could enjoy a peaceful life. But these years, I had only focused on making money, forgetting that what she truly needed was companionship. I looked at my savings; that string of zeros was enough for me to be set for the rest of my life. I no longer had a reason to stay in the city. After realizing this, I spent a week settling work handovers and processing my resignation. That night, as I left, I felt completely unburdened. I didn’t even bring a suitcase. Before boarding the plane, I sent Larry one last text message. It was a period at the end of our three years. “I’m going back home to get married. Let’s not keep in touch anymore.”

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On my wife, Eleanor’s, wake, I overheard her sister’s phone call. “Ellie, that fake death of yours is truly impressive. Your husband’s burying you at the cemetery, and you’re still up all night at an e-sports hotel with your little brother.” “Save a spot for me, I’ll be right there.” I froze instantly, subconsciously following them to the e-sports hotel. I watched Eleanor Stone, usually so formidable in the Stone family. Now, she was leaning against a red-haired man, smiling, enjoying him teaching her to smoke mouth-to-mouth. The moment she raised her arm, her sisters cheered. “Ellie, haven’t you washed off that temporary tattoo yet?” A sliver of white skin showed at Eleanor’s waist. On her slender lower back, black and red lettering was strikingly clear: Joshua Vance’s Exclusive. “Never. Joshua’s exclusive hand-drawn piece. I’ll never wash it off.” A chill ran down my spine, and I stumbled out of the hotel in a daze. As soon as I got home, my mother-in-law, Clara, her eyes red and swollen from crying, gripped my hand. “Adrian, Ellie had no luck. I’ve found a good girl for you from a respectable family. If she’s suitable, I’ll go with you to propose.” 1. In the private room, Eleanor spoke flatly: “Did Adrian take care of all the arrangements for my funeral?” Her sister laughed. “Everything’s handled, Ellie. Meticulous and respectful, just Adrian’s style.” “He was practically bursting with tears, yet he maintained that self-controlled, proper demeanor. Truly from a refined family!” Snap! Eleanor slowly exhaled a puff of smoke, then passed the cigarette to Joshua Vance with her mouth, her face full of indulgence. Through the swirling smoke, I saw a flicker of annoyance in Eleanor’s eyes. “That’s Adrian for you, emotionally numb, no feelings whatsoever.” “His life is a precise schedule—eating, dressing. Even in bed, he’s restrained and proper, so rigid.” “Even if I really died, he’d still faithfully keep vigil, taking care of the Stone family and my mom for me.” Her sister chuckled: “Just one marriage certificate, and he’s utterly devoted to you, Ellie, and to the Stone family. Quite a bargain.” “Who knows, maybe Adrian will even be happy about your resurrection, Ellie.” Everyone roared with laughter, a painful sting to my eardrums. The bitterness in my chest almost overflowed. It took several deep breaths to swallow back my tears. For her final dignity, I had suppressed my emotions to arrange the funeral. Every mourner praised my meticulous and respectful conduct. I had never found it difficult. For Eleanor, at home, in every aspect of life, I always maintained propriety, never letting her worry. Outside, I was Eleanor’s most capable assistant. I helped her secure the Stone family’s largest project in a decade. I always thought we were soulmates, moving forward together. But in the end, all I got was a mere “bargain.” “Ellie, when you’re with me, can you stop talking about your family’s old-fashioned ways!” Joshua Vance yanked off his headphones, throwing them forcefully onto the table. “I want you to divorce him! And I want you to tattoo my name over your heart! That’s the only way it’s real love!” My heart clenched. I was suddenly terrified of Eleanor’s answer. Eleanor only hesitated for a few seconds before quickly nodding. “Okay, if Joshua says divorce, I’ll divorce. Shall we go get the tattoo now?” My entire body felt cold, and a violent headache threatened to tear me apart. For the first time in my life, I lost control, stumbling frantically out of the e-sports hotel. On the crowded streets, Eleanor’s wedding vows echoed ceaselessly in my ears. “Adrian, in the Stone family, there’s no divorce, only widowhood. I will only ever have one husband, you.” How ridiculous. The validity of Eleanor’s vow lasted barely three years. I wandered the streets, distraught, my phone buzzing. My mother-in-law’s tired voice came from the other end. “Adrian, you’ve worked hard these past few days. I’ve taken it upon myself to find you a good match. Consider bringing her home.” 2. I don’t know how much time passed, but then I heard my own trembling voice. “Okay.” Hanging up the phone, I realized I had unknowingly walked to the entrance of an amusement park. This time, I bought a ticket and went in alone. As the elevator ascended, I felt as if I saw Eleanor from three years ago again. Before I met Eleanor, my life was lived meticulously, within the strict boundaries set by my parents. We were educated from childhood to be rational, to walk on a razor’s edge. One step out of line was unacceptable. The most my father ever said was, “You enjoy more wealth than ordinary people, so you must shed superfluous emotions.” I wanted to rebel, but I knew I had no right. For an elite family like ours, if I became disobedient, someone could immediately replace me. I would become worthless, lose everything. And Eleanor was the first person to make me drop my mask. “Adrian, life’s too short for all this formality.” “Why not live for the moment, enjoy the present?” Eleanor took me, helping me evade the bodyguards my parents had arranged. She took me drag racing. As the wind roared past my ears, I held her tightly. That was the first time I ever broke free from the rules, letting out a wild shout. Eleanor was one of the few redemptions in my life of self-restraint and proper conduct. I loved the rebellion in her bones, her fierce capacity to love and hate. The engine suddenly roared, and I gripped the brake, my heart trembling. Eleanor’s phantom blurred for a moment. Just like her odd behavior, which I couldn’t quite grasp. Six months ago, Eleanor had changed. She would come home after I had already fallen asleep. I would wake early for work, and Eleanor would still be asleep. I subtly questioned her secretary, who only stammered that Eleanor was entertaining clients. But the strong smell of tobacco on her clothes couldn’t be faked. My ingrained upbringing prevented me from making a scene; I only offered a calm reminder. “Be careful not to get food poisoning from eating out so much.” That was the first time Eleanor had smashed plates and cutlery in front of me, the splashing soup raising a row of blisters. “Adrian, aren’t you the most disciplined and proper? What is this now, jealousy? If you want to know something, then go find out.” Eleanor knew me, a fatal blow. She knew my upbringing and my restraint wouldn’t allow me to track her movements, so I could only let it go. Now, I regret it. If I had intervened earlier, Eleanor and I might not have ended up like this. “Sir, is this your first time drag racing? Safety precautions…” The staff member waved, interrupting my thoughts. I came back to myself and shook my head: “I know all the safety precautions.” The staff member nodded and opened the gate. I looked at the red motorbike, walked over, and twisted the throttle. One kick, and my breathing quickened. That long-dormant heart began to beat again. As the wind roared past once more. Eleanor’s playful tone, her mocking smirk, all were swept away by the wind. The story began here. It should also end here. 3. Coming down from the ride, the tears on my face had already dried in the wind. My mother-in-law, Clara, conveniently texted me the address of the person she was introducing me to. I set the destination on my GPS. Just as I was about to leave, there was a knock on my car window. I looked up, and Joshua Vance’s face appeared unexpectedly. “Hey, old man, you know me, right? You saw everything at the e-sports hotel, didn’t you?” He forcefully smashed my car window with the baseball bat in his hand. Bang! Shards of glass flew past my eye, burning like fire. Joshua Vance grabbed my hair, yanked me out of the window, and leaned close to my ear. “I’m just here to tell you that since you heard Eleanor wants to divorce you, you should cooperate. Eleanor doesn’t like you.” “Nowadays, free love is all the rage. Eleanor hates boring men like you the most. Please, old man, step out of our love story.” I met Joshua Vance’s challenging gaze: “You call that love?” Joshua Vance’s smirk froze, his eyebrow piercing glinting even more sharply in the light. “Adrian, to see if a woman loves you, you look at whether she’s willing to spend money on you, understand, old man?” “And even if she hasn’t spent money on me, she’s given me her time. What about you? Is she willing to spend time with you, old man?” My heart skipped a beat. I stared straight at him, my voice hoarse. “You think Eleanor truly loves you? You’re just the cheapest novelty she found! Once the novelty wears off, there will be a second you, a third you…” Joshua Vance’s face instantly flushed crimson, as if I’d struck a nerve. “You’re judging me and her now?!” He dragged me directly out of the car. Rip! I felt a sudden rush of cold beneath me; my collar had been torn. He pointed his phone at me, taking pictures, his voice grating. “You think you have any right to be near Eleanor? Tell me, if I post online that an old man like you is a gold-digger, what would people think?” His strength was surprisingly immense, the skull ring on his hand leaving red marks on my face. I stumbled backward, enraged. “You’re breaking the law!” Joshua Vance sneered: “Breaking the law? Do you think I’m scared?” He smiled and made a call. “Bring everyone over! I’m in a fight at the Star Court! Come give your Eleanor’s husband a proper welcome!” I frowned, trying to grab his phone, but Joshua Vance slammed the car door shut on my hand. The intense pain in my bones made me tremble uncontrollably. I endured the crushing pressure of the car door, gritting my teeth and yelling for help. “Security! Security!” No one answered. Despair slowly permeated me. This time, I couldn’t stay calm. I frantically searched for something to defend myself with. No one was coming to my rescue; I had to rely on myself! Catching sight of a fire hydrant in the distance, I was about to struggle free from the car door when I heard a familiar yet puzzled voice. “Adrian?”

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When Elias McKay was disowned, the city’s elite eagerly awaited my downfall. I’d abandoned my arranged fiancé for this “promising” man, only for his stepfamily to seize control, turning him from golden boy to stray dog overnight. I was labeled shortsighted and gold‑digging. Elias stood under a bridge, smoking. I walked over in heels and slipped a small box into his suit pocket. He looked down—a pack of three ultra‑thin condoms. “What’s this supposed to mean?” His voice was rough. “We didn’t use protection that last night before you vanished.” I patted his shoulder. “Sell them for a meal. Consider it severance.” Elias stared before letting out a low laugh. “Audrey Reed, you’re ruthless.” “Just matching your style,” I replied, turning to leave. He caught my wrist, grip crushing. “If we’re ending this, return the Patek Philippe Celestial you took from my house years ago.” That watch was his mother’s last gift before she died. I’d meant to give it back when he recovered. “I lost it,” I lied. Elias’s eyes darkened. He released me. “Get out.” I walked away. My phone buzzed instantly: “Matt Noth—Elias’s half‑brother, the McKay heir now—wants to see you. 8 PM, penthouse suite, The Platinum Hotel.” 1. Truth be told, I was even poorer than Elias. My father was a gambler, my mother ran off, and I’d been working since I was sixteen to support myself. For the three years I was with Elias, all my living expenses came from him; I hadn’t saved a dime. Now that he was down and out, I couldn’t even cover next month’s rent. My phone vibrated with an unknown number. “Miss Reed? I have a job for you. Interested?” “What kind of job?” “The new golden boy of the McKay family, Elias’s half-brother, Matt Noth. He wants to see you. Tonight at 8 PM, penthouse suite, The Platinum Hotel.” I sneered. “He wants me to… entertain him?” “Conversation, five hundred an hour.” “Miss Reed, I hear you’re a bit short on cash lately. Matt said if you agree to come, he’ll pay a ten thousand advance.” I looked at the watch in my drawer, remembering Elias under the bridge, smoking. “Send me the address.” When I walked into The Platinum Hotel wearing my only presentable little black dress, the security guards’ gazes were like they were sizing up a commodity with a price tag. The penthouse suite door was ajar. Matt Noth stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to me, a striking resemblance to Elias. “You came?” He didn’t turn around. “Close the door.” I closed it. When he finally turned, I noticed he was thinner than Elias, with a more feminine cast to his features. His gaze, when it landed on me, held a calculating scrutiny, as if appraising my worth. “My brother has good taste,” he said, walking towards me, his fingers hooking under my chin. “Too bad he’s an idiot. Got into a huge fight with the family over you, and now look, he’s got nothing to show for it.” I slapped his hand away. “Mr. Noth, I’m here for conversation, not to sleep with you.” “Is there a difference?” He chuckled. “Women like you, don’t you just do whatever for money?” I turned to leave. “Twenty thousand,” he said. “Stay tonight, the money will be in your account by morning.” My hand was already on the doorknob. “Thirty thousand,” he upped the ante. “Audrey Reed, your gambler father went to Vegas again yesterday and racked up an eighty thousand debt with loan sharks. What do you think those debt collectors will do when they find you?” A chill ran down my spine. How did he know? “I’ve looked into you,” Matt’s voice was laced with amusement. “Thoroughly. You stole a classmate’s eraser in third grade, got disciplined in middle school for fighting, and in high school, working at a karaoke bar, a customer touched your leg, and you smashed a bottle over his head… Tsk tsk, quite the firecracker.” I slowly turned around. “Fifty thousand.” Matt loosened his tie. “Spend three days with me. After that, I’ll clear your father’s debt and give you another hundred thousand. You can go wherever you please.” I stared at him. “Does Elias know you’re so interested in his ex-girlfriend?” “He knows,” Matt’s smile was malicious. “I’m doing it on purpose. Ever since we were kids, I’ve wanted everything he had. Toys, rooms, our father’s attention… now it’s your turn.” “What if I refuse?” “Then you won’t be leaving this hotel tonight.” He pressed a button on his phone, and footsteps sounded outside the door, at least four or five people. “I don’t like being refused.” 2. My mind raced. Fighting was clearly out of the question. Call the police? Matt was bold enough to do this, he must have everything covered. “I need to think about it,” I stalled for time. “You have ten seconds,” Matt began to count down. “Ten, nine…” When he got to three, I spoke. “I agree.” He raised an eyebrow. “That quick?” “But I have conditions,” I said. “First, half the money has to be transferred to my account now. Second, you can’t touch me these three days – I mean any physical contact. Third, I want to see Elias once.” Matt narrowed his eyes. “See my brother? Still carrying a torch for him?” “I want to tell him to his face that I chose you.” I forced a smile. “That’s what makes it truly exciting, isn’t it?” He stared at me for a long time, then burst out laughing. “Fine! Audrey Reed, you’ve got guts!” He pulled out his phone and made the transfer. “Twenty-five thousand, half upfront. The rest tomorrow morning. As for seeing my brother… I’ll take you tomorrow.” My phone vibrated with the deposit notification. I looked at the string of numbers, my heart pounding. Matt gestured to the sofa. “Now, drink with me.” I can’t remember how much I drank that night, only that Matt kept badmouthing Elias. He talked about how Elias had bullied him as a child, how he was their father’s favorite, and how Elias pretended to be high-minded but had a messy private life. “He’s slept with more women than you’ve had hot meals,” Matt guzzled some whiskey. “Do you really think he loved you? He just wanted to spite my dad, to prove he was independent.” I clutched my glass and said nothing. “But you’re pretty impressive yourself,” he leaned closer, his boozy breath hot on my face. “To make him break with his family over you. Too bad, though, my dad gave me everything before he died. Elias is a pathetic loser now, can’t even support himself. You still expect him to save you?” “I don’t expect anything from him,” I said. “Smart girl,” Matt patted my cheek. “Stick with me, and you’ll be set.” He drunkenly slumped onto the sofa and fell asleep. I carefully got up, rummaged in my bag for the sleeping pills I’d prepared, crushed them, poured them into his remaining drink, stirred it, and then helped him drink it. Matt mumbled a few words and then completely passed out. I quickly searched him, found his phone, unlocked it with his fingerprint, and went to his contacts. Sure enough, Elias’s number was there, saved as “Useless Brother.” I jotted down the number, deleted the record, and put the phone back. Then I took a wad of cash from his wallet, about two thousand, and snagged the Rolex from the table – that should fetch another fifteen thousand or so. After all that, I took a picture of the sleeping Matt and sent it to my phone. Just to be safe. It was 3 AM when I left the hotel. I hailed a cab and gave the address of the bridge Elias had mentioned earlier. The driver looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Miss, that’s not a safe area.” “Just drive.” When we arrived, Elias wasn’t there. The bridge underpass was empty, save for a few homeless people sleeping. I tried calling the number. It rang three times, then picked up. It was Elias’s voice, tired and hoarse, asking who it was. “It’s me,” I said. “Where are you?” A long silence followed. “Audrey Reed?” “Matt found me,” I said bluntly. “He wanted me to spend three days with him, offered me a hundred thousand, and said he’d clear my dad’s debt. I agreed, took twenty-five thousand as a deposit, and now I’m on the run.” Another pause. Then I heard him curse under his breath. “Send me your location,” he said. “Stay put, I’m coming to get you.”

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1 My husband, Matt, had a heavy smoking habit. I was about to post online for advice to help him quit when I stumbled upon a question in a “quit smoking” thread: 【Under what circumstances would a husband truly want to quit smoking?】 The top reply had a million likes. 【If your husband truly loves you, he wouldn’t smoke at all.】 【My husband and I are both doctors, we know smoking is harmful, especially after having children, he wouldn’t even touch a cigarette.】 The comment section was filled with angry replies. 【If your husband doesn’t smoke, why are you replying to this thread? Maybe he smokes in secret?】 To shut down the online critics, the original poster shared a family photo of her and her husband and child. 【Our child’s health indicators are all normal, thanks for your concern. But even if he did smoke, what then? On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, he comes home from his shift without even a whiff of smoke. Isn’t that a testament to his love?】 The angry comments continued, but I kept zooming in on that family photo. My blood ran cold. The man who didn’t smoke on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and the man addicted to cigarettes on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, were both my husband, Matt Vincent. … I compulsively zoomed in on the family photo, staring at that familiar face. He would be off work in twenty minutes, and then I could share the good news I had for him. I gently touched my slightly bulging belly, my heart feeling as if it were being shredded by a knife. Matt’s last angry message to me was still on my phone: 【I told you I wouldn’t quit smoking. No matter how much you try to convince me, it’s useless. Don’t be so selfish.】 On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, when he was with me, he could puff away to his heart’s content. But on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, when he was with Susan Thorne, he was a perfect family man, not even smelling of smoke. For five years, this apartment had been permeated with the smell of smoke. Every day I had to deep clean, using bottle after bottle of air freshener. It was still so foul. It even made me nauseous. I took a cab to the hospital, resolute in my decision to have an abortion. “The baby’s father is a heavy smoker; this child won’t be healthy either.” The doctor nodded helplessly, mentioning casually: “Dr. Vincent, the head of the department next door, hasn’t touched a single cigarette since his wife had their child. Responsible husbands like that are rare these days.” He joked: “If you marry a doctor, you won’t have these concerns.” I almost laughed and cried at the same time. Yes, the doctor I married was an “addict,” but in everyone else’s eyes, he was a good, responsible man. While waiting for my appointment, Matt walked toward me, followed by a large group of interns. His expression was a bit awkward: “I said too much yesterday. Don’t take it to heart.” I didn’t hear what he said. All I noticed was the refreshing mint scent emanating from him. I once carefully selected expensive mint candies, hoping he would use them as a substitute for smoking. He immediately scattered them across the floor, saying he hated the smell of mint. I glanced at my phone and understood. It was Thursday. He was on call and wouldn’t be coming home. He would be going to his other home. I forced an ugly smile. Matt cautiously looked around before patting my shoulder, “Go home.” I, his lawfully wedded wife, felt like a clandestine mistress. He turned and walked away. He accidentally stepped on my prenatal test results, which I had just dropped, and frowned in distaste: “You should be more observant. If there’s trash on the floor, you should pick it up and throw it away immediately.” An intern crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the trash can. My heart ached. Presumably, in his mind, both the baby and I were just trash that could be discarded at will. In that case, I didn’t want this man anymore either. After getting the appointment for my abortion in three days, I called a number I hadn’t contacted in five years: “You said you’d always keep a position open for me. Does that still hold true?” 2 Back home, the greasy smell of smoke that hit me instantly confirmed my exhaustion. Everyone in my circle knew. As a law student, I had quit my job to support Matt’s preparations for his medical professorship exams. He couldn’t bear for me to abandon my dreams, so he married me early, against his family’s wishes. Even during his busy and tiring hospital internship, he would bring me little surprises after his late-night shifts. He poured everything into being a devoted husband. But later, he often said the hospital’s evaluations put too much pressure on him, and he started smoking pack after pack. From the balcony to the bathroom, and eventually, he’d just light up directly in the bedroom. I pleaded with him countless times to quit, even for the sake of trying for a baby. But all I got was his hysteria. “Of course you wouldn’t understand! You spend all day at home, eating and drinking, going shopping when you’re bored. What stress could you possibly have?!” I, once an accomplished lawyer who could debate a room full of people, was countless times rendered speechless by his rebuttals. But he probably forgot that I was trapped in this smoke-infused apartment because of him. In the end, he found a mistress, a doctor with a dazzling career, to bear his children. After packing my bags to leave, I clicked on Susan Thorne’s profile. Her latest video was marked “Visible only to me.” On a messy bedsheet, Matt lay panting, his face filled with satiation. “Since the child grew up, we haven’t enjoyed ourselves like this in a long time.” Matt didn’t light a post-coital cigarette. Instead, he gently kissed Susan’s forehead. It was then that I noticed the “scar” on Matt’s ribs, which he always covered with a band-aid. It was actually the initials of their three names. When I finally came to my senses, tears were already splashing onto the screen. Indignant, I commented below: 【Don’t you feel ashamed, stealing someone else’s husband?】 Immediately after, the entire video was deleted. But it wasn’t hard to feel that she was declaring war. Using the knowledge I gained in law school, I drafted a divorce agreement for myself. Just as I typed the last word, the hospital suddenly called. “Ms. Lin, your mother has had a sudden heart attack. Her condition is very serious, and we need you to come to the hospital immediately to sign some papers!” I stumbled and ran to the hospital. My mother lay on the hospital bed, barely clinging to life, her voice muffled by the oxygen mask, as if coming from another world. “My attending doctor said… said you stole her husband…” I quickly checked the tag at the head of the bed. My mother’s new attending physician was indeed Susan Thorne. But I was Matt’s legally married wife. How could a mistress say such a thing? “Mom, I…” I cried, about to explain, but my mother wouldn’t even spare me another glance as she was wheeled into the operating room. In the desolate hallway, I helplessly called Matt. The cold, mechanical female voice was my only answer. The phone number he had specially customized for me was switched off when I needed him most. Just then, a video popped up on my phone. Outside the courthouse, Susan Thorne, holding a prenatal test result, embraced Matt from behind, desperately pleading: “I’m pregnant. Although I don’t want to disrupt your and her life, at least, please guarantee the child’s future.” “The baby is still so small. You wouldn’t just abandon me, right?” Susan cried, her face like a weeping pear blossom, a truly pitiable sight. Even my heart clenched. It felt like an eternity. Matt’s deep voice, clear in the cold wind, finally broke the silence: “Let’s go in. I’ll marry you.” 3 The video’s date was the exact same day Matt and I “got married.” I rushed to the courthouse in a daze. The clerk told me my marriage certificate was fake. “Mr. Vincent’s wife for the past five years has always been Ms. Susan Thorne.” That single, short sentence pronounced a death sentence on my marriage. Five years ago, Matt had said his parents opposed our marriage, so we skipped the wedding ceremony. After quickly getting our “marriage certificate,” he flew to Paris for a month-long exchange program. But it was during that very time that Susan Thorne posted a lavish wedding ceremony video on her profile. Matt’s parents were seen placing a family heirloom necklace around Susan’s neck. Perhaps they never even knew I existed. It turned out I was the one living in the shadows, the mistress. The sudden, cruel truth struck me like a burning arrow, causing me to faint from the shock. When I opened my eyes again, I was already in the hospital. Matt sat by the bed, his face grim, reeking of stale cigarette smoke. “You knew I was on call last night, yet you kept calling me frantically. When I didn’t answer, you pretended to be sick. That’s just too much.” “I have several surgeries waiting for me. Don’t be so unreasonable.” But seeing my gloomy expression, and remembering it was Friday, his tone softened slightly: “Be on time for the awards ceremony tomorrow.” The next day, Matt and Susan Thorne, as the hospital’s star doctors, stood together looking exactly like a well-matched, attractive couple. Everyone’s mocking gazes landed on me. Trapped at home for years, I carried the unshakeable smell of stale second-hand smoke. “Is that Dr. Vincent’s wife? Why does she look ten years older, like a nanny? It’s laughable.” “I wonder what Dr. Vincent was thinking. Dr. Thorne has a Ph.D., she’s young and beautiful. She’d be so much more presentable.” “She smells awful, but Dr. Vincent doesn’t smoke, does she smoke herself?” … Hearing these words now only felt ironic. I really wasn’t fit to be Matt’s wife; I was just an unrecognized mistress. The Vincent family heirloom jade pendant on Susan Thorne’s neck still stung my eyes. I had tirelessly managed our small home, playing the role of a Vincent family “daughter-in-law” for five years, yet I had never even met his parents. To even glimpse the Vincent family heirloom, I had to see it on another woman. Susan Thorne linked her arm through Matt’s, smiling as she walked towards me. “They say Mrs. Vincent is virtuous and gentle. Seeing her today, the rumors are certainly true.” She emphasized the words “Mrs. Vincent,” her eyes filled with mockery. I opened my mouth, wanting to confront her about provoking my mother, but then realized I didn’t even have the right to question her. To my surprise, Susan Thorne noticed my resentment, smiling as she lowered her voice and whispered in my ear: “I just shared some of my and my husband’s daily life with your mother. I really didn’t expect her to enjoy listening so much. I’ll go talk to her again later.” The woman’s challenging smile grew larger and larger in my vision. Unable to bear it any longer, I forcefully pushed her away. “Shut up!” “Lynn Forrest, are you crazy?!” Matt grabbed my arm, out of control, his eyes filled with disgust for me. “How dare you lay hands on someone in public? Do you want me to throw you out?!” But Susan Thorne, where he couldn’t see, was still taunting me. By the time I reacted, I had already lunged forward, grabbing her collar, my eyes blazing with fury. To my surprise, the woman didn’t get angry; instead, she smiled, staring at my phone. The next second, my phone suddenly displayed my mother’s death certificate.

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The real heiress was a kleptomaniac, and my entire family enabled her. “Go on, sweetie, take whatever you want. Mom and Dad are top lawyers. We’ve got your back!” But when she stole the fountain pen I treasured above all else, I called the police. In return, my parents sent me to prison. “Aurora has been through so much. If this is her only little hobby, what’s wrong with us indulging her?” “Don’t think that just because we raised you for a few years, you can compete with our real daughter. You occupied her place for ten years. You’re the real thief!” “And let me tell you, if you ever cross your sister again, it won’t be just a month in a cell.” Is that so? Then let’s see just how much you’re willing to tolerate from your precious little thief. I looked at the real heiress, a challenge in my eyes. “Stealing a few trinkets is nothing.” “My brother has key evidence for his trial next week. I dare you to steal that.” A week later, my brother confidently presented his evidence in court. Seconds later, the bouncy, animated butt of Crayon Shin-chan was dancing across the massive courtroom screen. “Elephant, oh elephant, why is your trunk so long… I don’t care, I don’t care…” … The day Aurora was brought home, she stole our mother’s most precious necklace. When Mom couldn’t find it, she slapped me across the face. “You little bitch! We just brought our real daughter home, and you’re already stealing things to stake your claim on the inheritance?” I tried to explain. “I didn’t take it. If you just look again, maybe…” “A thief and a liar? I should have known. What good can come from an orphanage?” “You grew up in a family of lawyers, and you still couldn’t shed your degenerate nature!” “No wonder your parents were taken by that earthquake. Must have been karma for all the bad things they did!” “Give me the necklace, right now, or I’ll send you to prison!” Just then, Aurora came skipping into the room. I saw the necklace instantly, dangling around her neck. I pointed it out to Mom. “Is this the necklace you’re talking about?” Mom’s expression and tone softened in a heartbeat. “Oh, Aurora, sweetie, you took Mommy’s necklace? Why didn’t you tell me?” Aurora clutched the necklace protectively. “What do you mean, your necklace? What proof do you have that it’s yours?” “Did you see me take it?” “If you didn’t see it happen, then it’s mine!” Mom looked confused. “What are you saying, sweetie? If you like it, Mommy can give it to you…” “I don’t want you to give it to me! Pfft! I got it with my own skills!” “My classmates’ pens, toys, hair clips… I can make them all mine.” “My old parents used to praise me all the time. They said I was clever and saved the family money!” Mom paused for a moment. “That couple… that’s what they taught you? To steal… to take other people’s things?” Aurora’s face was full of pride. “Yup! When my old mom went grocery shopping, I’d help her by grabbing a few potatoes.” “When she tried on makeup at the mall, I’d help her by grabbing a few lipsticks.” “I’m really good at it. She said I could support myself for the rest of my life with this skill!” Mom hesitated. “Aurora, honey, that’s not right. From now on, if you want something, just tell Mommy, and I’ll get it for you…” Aurora shook her head. “I don’t want you to give it to me! I like taking things myself!” “You’re mean! I don’t like you! My old mommy would have told me I was amazing!” “I want to go find my old mommy!” As Aurora turned to leave in a huff, Mom quickly grabbed her arm. Dad, drawn by the commotion, came over with a sigh. “Let it go. If it makes Aurora happy, just let her be.” Mom hugged Aurora and cooed, “Aurora is so clever! You can take care of yourself with your own special skills!” “Mommy loves you the most. Please don’t go looking for your old mommy, okay?” Aurora beamed and nodded. I was stunned. “Mom,” I said, “what she’s doing is theft. It’s illegal. We should be correcting her.” “Today she took your necklace. What if she’s caught doing this outside…” Mom cut me off, her voice vicious. “So what? We’re a family of lawyers. You think we can’t protect our own daughter?” “My daughter can do whatever she wants. Who are you to lecture us?” “Aurora has skills to support herself. What are you without us?” Her voice was thick with self-righteousness, as if she hadn’t been the one disgusted by the idea of theft just moments ago. Aurora shot me a look over Mom’s shoulder, a tiny, triumphant smirk on her face. The next day, I saw Aurora sneaking out of my room. I rushed inside and found the fountain pen on my desk was gone. That pen was a memento from my late mentor. It was the only thing I had left of her. Ten years ago, she had shielded me with her own body during the earthquake, saving my life. I ran out and grabbed Aurora, trying to keep my voice gentle. “Aurora, did you happen to see the pen on my desk?” Aurora clutched her hands behind her back and burst into tears, wailing. “Why are you calling me a thief? Did you see me do it?” “Who would want your stupid pen? You need proof to accuse someone! Where’s the pen?” My parents rushed over at the sound of her cries. “Aurora, what’s wrong? Who upset you?” Her crying intensified. “It’s Grace! She keeps saying I took her pen and called me a thief!” “I knew it! You all look down on me! I’ll just leave!” My parents immediately started comforting her. “Hush, Aurora, no one looks down on you. You’re the best.” “Grace, apologize to your sister right now!” Tears of frustration streamed down my face. “I can apologize, but please, just make her give the pen back. You know it was a memento from my teacher…” “Grace, that’s enough! What proof do you have that Aurora took your pen?” I pointed at her hands, still hidden behind her back. “Then let me see her hands.” Aurora shook her head, a smug look in her eyes. “She’s slandering me. I don’t have to show her anything.” My parents stared at me coldly. “The burden of proof is on the accuser. Aurora is not obligated to cooperate with you.” I nodded. “Fine. Then let’s check the security camera in my room.” My brother, Wesley, walked over and shrugged. “Sorry. The footage seems to have been accidentally deleted.” “Grace, you know, falsely accusing Aurora is a crime.” I stared at them in disbelief. “You’re all lawyers. You know that theft is wrong. How can you enable her like this?” They looked at me with contempt. “Even lawyers have people they want to protect.” Seeing everyone rally to her side, Aurora’s expression turned defiant. “So what if I took it? I’m not giving it back to you! Neener-neener!” “If you want it, come and find it yourself!” I lunged forward, grabbing for the hands she held behind her back. My father kicked me, sending me sprawling to the floor. “How dare you? Who do you think you are, trying to search her?” “Even the police need a warrant for that!” I looked up, my voice filled with despair. “Fine. Then let’s have the police help me find it.” Wesley reached for my phone, but I had already hit the emergency dial button. “Grace, you…” My father shot Wesley a look. “Let’s teach your sister a lesson today.” The police arrived quickly. My parents greeted them at the door. “Officers, thank you for coming. I’m afraid our adopted daughter is upset that we brought our biological daughter home, so she filed a false police report to frame her.” An officer turned to me. “You’re the one who called? What’s the situation?” “My fountain pen is missing. My sister, Aurora, took it. I just want her to give it back.” My parents jumped in. “She’s lying. Who would take a stupid pen?” The officer looked at me sternly. “Do you have any evidence?” I shook my head, defeated. “She was hiding it behind her back, but after I called you, I don’t know where she put it.” “The security footage was also deleted…” “Grace, did you deliberately destroy the camera footage just to frame your sister?” “Officers, filing a false police report is a criminal offense. Please, arrest her.” “This daughter of mine needs to be taught a lesson.” I shook my head frantically. “I didn’t file a false report! I’m telling the truth…” Mom’s voice was like ice. “Aurora is our biological daughter. She can have anything she wants. Why would she need to take your worthless pen?” Dad stepped forward, his voice calm and authoritative. “Officers, we are legal professionals. We understand the societal harm caused by false reports and slander.” “If she can frame her sister over something so trivial today, she could pose a much greater threat to society tomorrow. We urge you to handle this strictly. It’s for her own good, to educate and save her.” In the end, I was the one taken away for disturbing the peace. Thanks to my parents’ “professional defense,” what should have been a ten-day detention turned into a month. The day I was released, my parents warned me, their faces cold. “If there’s a next time, it won’t be just a month in a cell.” “If you like prison food so much, we have no problem letting you rot in there.” “If you want to test our skills, go ahead and make trouble.” Aurora threw the fountain pen at my face. “Here’s your junk. I don’t want it.” I trembled as I picked it up. The barrel was maliciously dented, the nib snapped in two. My parents took Aurora’s hand. “Aurora is so clever. We don’t steal worthless junk like this.” “Didn’t you say you wanted to practice at the mall, sweetie? Come on, let’s go show Mom and Dad what you can do.” “Take whatever you like. If anything happens, we’ve got your back.” Wesley chimed in, “Don’t worry, sis. I’ve got your back too!” “Aurora, tell me, who’s better? Us, or your old family?” Aurora clapped her hands. “My new mom, dad, and brother are the best! You even let me steal from fancy malls!” “I feel so much more accomplished now!” The four of them left, cheerful and excited. I was stunned. In just one month, the word “steal” had become a badge of honor in this house. Mom, Dad, have you thrown away your values and your professional ethics just to please your biological daughter? That night, Aurora returned, triumphant, surrounded by her adoring family. She came to my room to gloat. “Look! This perfume is worth over six hundred dollars. I got it without paying a cent!” “And this ring? The price tag was over a thousand.” “The salesclerks are probably still searching for it. They almost suspected me, but Mom and Dad said a few words and shut them right up.” “What do you think? You have the guts to call the cops on me?” “Oh, that’s right, you don’t. Because Mom and Dad will just send you back to prison.” “You’re so pathetic. Ten years in this house and they treat you like dirt.” “I’ve only been back a few months, and they worship me.” I looked up at her and laughed, my voice dripping with contempt. Aurora’s smug expression vanished. “What are you laughing at?” I raised an eyebrow. “At how naive you are.” “They only indulge you because you steal things that don’t matter.” “And you’re already showing off because of a little affection? You must be starved for love.” “When I was a kid, I accidentally tore up some of their legal documents and replaced them with my drawings. When they found out, they didn’t even have the heart to scold me.” “You think stealing a few things from strangers proves they love you? How pathetic.” Aurora glared at me. “Don’t try to manipulate me! You’re just jealous!” I shrugged. “Think what you want. I can tell you’re not so sure yourself.” “You know deep down that they’re only indulging you because you just got here. But they raised me for ten years.” “Do you dare steal something important to them? No, you don’t.” Aurora’s eyes burned with hatred. “You bitch! I’ll show you just how much they adore me!” My parents and Wesley had recently taken on a case for Zinberg Corp., the most powerful company in the city. After losing the initial trial, Zinberg Corp. had hired our family’s firm.

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“What’s one plus one?” On the highway, my brother, Jayden, suddenly asked. I hesitated, my voice barely a whisper, “It’s…” Before I could finish, Mom, Elaine, flew into a rage and slapped me across the face: “I’m an Ivy League graduate, your dad’s a Ph.D. Your brother Jayden is a math genius who aces every test, yet you, you can’t even answer one plus one without hesitating, you good-for-nothing!” My face stung with a burning pain, and my heart was filled with terror. I cried, shaking my head, “Mom, please don’t despise me, I’m not worthless… it’s what Jayden said…” But Mom wouldn’t listen. She simply shoved me out of the car: “A good-for-nothing who only inherited inferior genes doesn’t deserve to ride with us! Get out and walk back!” I desperately chased after the car, but Dad, David, and Mom drove off with Jayden. A massive truck came roaring up behind me, and suddenly, my body felt light, ethereal. I caught up to Mom and Dad’s car: “Mom, Dad, I’m not worthless! My teacher says I’m a little artist, she says everyone has their own strengths!” 1 “A child’s stride is usually between one and one and a half feet.” “I’ve calculated it for you. From here to the next rest stop, it’s only three thousand steps.” “This is Mom’s punishment for you, but it’s also to unlock your potential, to help you, the less bright one, fit into our family.” Mom finished, then turned and got into the car without a moment’s hesitation. I rushed after her: “Mom, don’t leave me!” The car window slowly lowered, and Mom tossed out a small camera from inside: “This is the latest cloud-sync model. It’ll record you, so don’t get lazy and skip counting.” “Be careful on the road, only walk on the emergency lane.” Mom left her final instruction, and the car window immediately rolled up. I watched helplessly as the car drove away. The taillights grew dimmer and dimmer, until they vanished completely into the darkness. “Mom, it’s so cold.” The weather forecast said it was ten degrees Fahrenheit below zero today. But Mom had forgotten to give me my jacket. I dejectedly held up the small camera, speaking to its tiny lens: “Mom, I’m not worthless.” “I’m the best artist in my class. My teacher says that’s called having different strengths.” But the lens wouldn’t speak. I sniffled, holding back tears, and began to carefully count my steps. “1, 2, 3…” But it was so cold, my breath seemed to turn to ice. I counted slower and slower, my steps growing smaller. By the time I reached a thousand, my legs felt as heavy as two large stones. My foot caught on something, and I fell directly to my knees, a sharp, piercing pain shooting through them. My whole body ached. I cried, apologizing to the tiny lens: “Mom, I’m sorry. Rose is really hurting so much, I’ll just rest for ten counts.” Our family often played number games; success brought rewards, failure brought penalties. Jayden always got the rewards. I always failed, and Mom would punish me for ten counts. Ten counts of slapping my hand, ten counts of spanking my bottom. Before, ten counts felt so slow; now, they felt incredibly fast. When the ten counts were up, I struggled to get up from the ground. I moved my legs inch by painful inch; the blood from my knees soaked through my pants, and every step was agony. I gritted my teeth, knowing that just one thousand nine hundred seventy more steps would take me home to Grandma and Grandpa. They were waiting for us for Christmas dinner. But my body grew colder and colder. Large, snowy white flowers seemed to bloom before my eyes, and I cried into the camera: “Mom, I think I can’t walk anymore.” Mom wouldn’t answer me. But a blinding light suddenly appeared behind me; I had unknowingly wandered into the middle of the road. When I woke up, I suddenly realized my body felt lighter. 2 Feeling lighter, I quickly caught up with Mom and Dad. They were resting at a service station, their table laden with delicious food. Mom was coaxing Jayden to drink some hot water. “It’s too cold today, Jayden, you have to drink some hot water.” Jayden reluctantly took a sip, and I quietly swallowed, wishing I could have some hot water too. “Mom, I want some too.” I pleaded timidly, but Mom remained unmoved. She fed Jayden water, gave him fruit. She seemed not to see me at all. I stifled the ache in my heart. Just then, Dad, David, suddenly checked his watch, his brow furrowed: “We’ve been waiting at the service station for an hour. Where’s Rose? Nothing’s happened to her, has it?” My heart lifted. Dad, he finally remembered me. “Dad, I met a really big truck, I was too tired to run, and that truck…” I wanted to tell Dad loudly. But Mom, Elaine, impatiently cut in: “David, it’s only two miles, it’s not that far.” “If it were Jayden, he’d have run it already.” “She’s always been lazy and manipulative since she was little. This is a good chance for her to get some exercise!” Jayden nodded. He wasn’t just good at math; he was athletic too. “Sister is already clumsy; what if she doesn’t exercise and ends up a sickly mess?” He snorted. Jayden often teased me. This time in the car, he suddenly asked me a math question. He just wanted to make fun of how dumb I was. Before, I’d always just foolishly grinned at him, never minding, because he was my big brother. But this time, I was a little angry. I yelled at him, “I am not! Jayden is mean!” If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have been kicked out of the car. Dad hesitated. He looked at the heavy fog outside, then his brows gradually relaxed. “Two miles, even an adult takes 20 to 35 minutes to walk. Considering external factors, it’s normal for a child to be a little late.” Hearing Dad’s words, my heart felt heavy. I’d always been prone to illness, gasping for breath after just a few steps, let alone walking three thousand steps in such cold weather. But they seemed to forget that. They decided to wait a little longer. This wait stretched for another hour, until Jayden grew impatient. He started complaining, urging Dad to drive. Just then, a couple walked in, their conversation interrupting Jayden. “We specifically left at dawn, but still got stuck in traffic.” “That car accident earlier was truly gruesome. They said the person’s brains were splattered, and it was a child…” Hearing this, Dad trembled violently. Mom also looked a little panicked. She quickly pulled out her phone, sighing in relief when she saw the small moving dot on the screen. The next second, she grew angry again: “The camera I bought not only records but also tracks location.” “Look, she’s moving fast right now, she’s definitely playing the victim and got a ride. She’s so disobedient!” “We’re not waiting for her. We’re leaving now. If she’s so clever, she can have that person drop her home!” Hearing that, I instantly grew anxious. “Mom, no, it’s not that.” “I didn’t, that was an ambulance, not a ride I found.” But Mom couldn’t hear me. She bundled Jayden up tightly, then pulled Dad into the car for home. I cried, following Mom and Dad’s car. The ambulance siren seemed to get closer, but Dad floored the gas and sped off the highway. The car quickly arrived at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I sadly lunged towards them, but passed right through. 3 Christmas was my favorite time of year; I got to see Grandma and Grandpa. But now I was so sad, tears streaming non-stop. Grandma rushed to the back seat, first greeting Jayden. Then she peered into the car: “Where’s Rose? Why isn’t Rose in the car?” “Grandma, I’m here.” I choked, pulling on Grandma’s sleeve. Mom, Elaine, impatiently said: “She came back in someone else’s car.” “Alright, it’s freezing outside. Jayden’s been in the car so long and is cold and hungry. Have some sympathy for your oldest grandson.” Mom’s words instantly silenced Grandma. She glanced at Dad, David, saw him nod, sighed, and didn’t ask any more questions. “Alright, alright, I’ve made dumplings, I’ll boil some for you all.” Bowls of steaming hot dumplings were brought to the table. The aroma seemed to waft directly to me. Mom, Dad, and Jayden ate heartily, but I held my stomach, on the verge of tears. Walking for an hour had left me exhausted and starving. What I wanted most was Grandma’s homemade dumplings. “Rose loves dumplings the most. I even saved some especially for her. I’ll cook them when she gets here.” Grandma said with a smile, standing up and looking out the window again and again. I sniffled. I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. After everyone finished eating, and Grandma cleared the table, she saw I still hadn’t arrived and finally couldn’t resist asking Mom and Dad about me again: “How come Rose still isn’t here? Whose car did she come back in? Why didn’t you all come together?” The living room instantly fell silent. Dad hesitated: “Soon, she should be here soon.” His hesitant answer made Grandma and Grandpa confused. “Whose car is Rose in? Why don’t you just call and ask? She’s been gone so long, don’t you two, as parents, worry at all?” Dad pushed up his glasses, but looked at Mom. Mom angrily pulled out her phone. Grandma and Grandpa craned their necks expectantly, and I looked too. She frowned, opened her phone, saw the small camera’s location was not far from Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and said: “Alright, she’ll be back in five minutes.” Grandma and Grandpa wanted to see more, but Mom immediately closed her phone. “Now that we’re back, I need to talk to you two elders seriously.” “Rose is about to start elementary school. You can’t keep spoiling her like this; it’s very detrimental to her future growth.” Mom’s tone was very stern. I fearfully hid behind Grandma. Mom loved smart children. She always spoke to Jayden with gentle words. But I was too clumsy. Mom always got very angry. Once, I got 59 on a math test, and she was so mad she slapped me. “Are you even my biological child? How can you be so dense?” “How can you get such simple addition and subtraction wrong? What’s in your head?” To make me good at math, she fiercely designed a study plan for me. A year of math lessons, doing Jayden’s advanced math problems. If I didn’t learn, I’d get my palm smacked. Grandma couldn’t bear to watch and would speak up for me. This time too, she whispered: “Elaine, I think teaching a child shouldn’t be too forced, Rose is still small…” Before she could finish, Mom sharply interrupted her: “Mom, do you know that Rose still hesitates when asked what 1+1 equals?” “When Jayden was her age, he was already doing third-grade math problems!” Grandma’s face turned pale from being cut off. In the corner, Jayden was secretly laughing. I rushed forward anxiously: “Mom, it’s not that I hesitated, it’s Jayden!” “Jayden said, 1+1 doesn’t equal 2!” Although I didn’t understand, when Jayden asked again, I still hesitated. But Mom didn’t hear my explanation. “Look, is this Rose’s jacket?”

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The first day I was brought back to the Donovan estate, my biological parents laid down the law. “Even though you’re back, don’t think for a second you can compete with Sophie.” I looked at the power play this family was putting on and smiled as I pulled a contract out of my bag. “I believe you’ve made a mistake. Our parent-child relationship is a legal fact. But for me to play the role of a docile, obedient daughter who also serves as a stepping stone for your adopted child? That’s a premium emotional service.” “And it’s going to cost you.” 1 My biological father, Richard Donovan, tossed a black card onto the table. “There’s ten thousand dollars on this. It’s your allowance for the next six months.” “Now that you’re a Donovan, you will follow the Donovan rules.” “First, you are not to bully Sophie. She may not be our biological daughter, but we’ve raised her for twenty years. Don’t you dare think you can replace her.” “Second, do not discuss your identity with outsiders. For now, we will be telling everyone you’re a distant relative.” “Third, leave your backwater habits behind. Keep a low profile and do not embarrass the Donovan name.” Beside him, my mother, Anabelle, dressed like the socialite she was, added her own conditions. “Sophie is a very sensitive girl, and her health is fragile. She can’t handle any stress. You need to be considerate and not do anything to make her cry.” According to the plot of the novel I knew, the long-lost biological daughter—me—is brought back, desperate for affection, only to be gaslighted and manipulated by her entire family. My parents and brother find me vulgar. The adopted daughter, Sophie, undermines me at every turn, both openly and behind my back. And my fiancé, Marcus Blackwood, humiliates me every chance he gets. The original me, in an attempt to fit in, desperately studies etiquette, grovels for approval, and walks on eggshells around everyone. In the end, she’s still thrown out of the family and dies alone, consumed by despair. Now that I’ve taken her place, I looked around at the hundred-million-dollar mansion and decided to think bigger. If playing the part of the loving daughter is a death sentence, I’ll play the part of a consultant. And consultants get paid. I picked up the card with a small smile. “My apologies, but I’ve done my due diligence.” “Donovan Industries reported a net profit of four billion dollars last year.” “And from what I understand, Miss Sophie’s monthly expenses alone run well into six figures.” “Since you’re both so concerned about Miss Sophie’s feelings and so worried that your daughter from the country will embarrass you, why bring me back at all?” “Could it be because the Blackwood family specifically requested an alliance with the true heiress?” Richard, who had been about to stand, froze. His eyes sharpened. “Who told you that?” I smiled and pulled a printed document from my bag titled Functional Family Member Performance Agreement. “That’s not important. What’s important is the business I’d like to discuss with you both.” “Integrating a stranger, even one who shares your blood, into a family unit is, in essence, a high-risk merger and acquisition.” “I know you had no choice.” “Since we’re all uncomfortable, let’s commercialize it. You need me to act as a mascot, a tool for a marriage alliance, and, when necessary, a foil to highlight Miss Sophie’s superior grace. I am willing to cooperate on all fronts. But not for free.” Richard and Anabelle’s expressions soured. Reading the room, I pressed on before they could play the family card. “Mr. Donovan, Mrs. Donovan, please don’t talk to me about blood being thicker than water. That’s an outdated concept.” “In the world of business, providing emotional value and taking the fall for others are services that command a premium.” “If I’m mistreated in this house, that’s a workplace injury. If you expect me to handle a scumbag like Marcus Blackwood, that’s hazardous duty, billed on a case-by-case basis, and you will be taking out a top-tier life insurance policy in my name.” “As for the ten thousand you just offered? That’s what you give a beggar. Considering the unique and irreplaceable nature of my position, I require a monthly salary of fifty thousand dollars, a full benefits package, and an annual bonus to be negotiated separately.” “Are you insane? You really are from the sticks, with that crass, money-grubbing attitude!” My older brother, William, who had been watching silently from the side, finally spoke. I shook my head. “There’s no hollow affection between us, only a relationship maintained by money. So it’s only right that I get paid for my services.” “What do you say? Think of the return on investment. Fifty thousand a month for a peaceful and harmonious household. Sounds like a bargain, doesn’t it?” Richard, ever the capitalist, was the first to regain his composure. He truly felt nothing for this unrefined, unpresentable stranger of a daughter. Fifty thousand dollars was less than the price of a single bottle of wine from his cellar. If the price of one bottle could secure him a compliant, professional, and trouble-free tool for the marriage alliance… the deal was exceptionally cost-effective. After all, in the world of the wealthy, problems that money can solve aren’t really problems at all. He picked up a fountain pen and signed the contract with a decisive stroke. “You’d better be worth it. Stay in line.” 2 The next day, I officially started my new job. At breakfast, the adopted daughter, Sophie, drifted into the room like a delicate willow in the wind. I had to admit, the product the Donovans had poured their money into was exquisite. She met every aesthetic standard for the damsel-in-distress archetype. The moment she saw me, her eyes welled up. “Victoria, why are you glaring at me? What did I do wrong?” “I’m sorry, whatever it is. Please don’t be angry with me.” Before I could respond, she looked timidly at the other three. “Dad, Mom, William… should I not be down here for breakfast?” “I know I’m just the adopted daughter. I don’t have the right to eat at this table. I’ll go.” Richard and Anabelle’s hearts immediately went out to her, and they were about to scold me when I spoke first. “Miss Sophie, your performance is subpar.” Sophie looked confused, tears clinging to her lashes. “Wh-what?” I sized her up. “As the Donovan family’s signature socialite, your core competencies are beauty, fragility, and evoking pity. But look at your facial control.” I pointed to the corner of her mouth. “When you cry, the downward curve of your lips is too exaggerated. It looks stiff and theatrical.” “Furthermore, as the favored one, acting so meek in front of an ‘outsider’ like me makes you seem small-minded. It reflects poorly on Mr. and Mrs. Donovan’s upbringing.” “If anyone else saw this, they’d think there was a quality control issue with the Donovan brand.” Richard, who had been ready to yell at me, paused. He actually thought I had a point. The Donovans were a prestigious family. How could their daughter act so timid and submissive? “Then what do you suggest?” he asked. “I can act as her competitive analyst and part-time image consultant.” I adopted a more professional posture. “From now on, I will simulate various scenarios for her: the wicked older sister, the demanding mother-in-law, even the cunning romantic rivals she might encounter in the future. I’ll conduct comprehensive situational drills.” “Through my pressure, we will improve her resilience. Through my critiques, we will perfect her public image. I guarantee that when she marries into another prominent family, she will be a formidable presence and a credit to the Donovan name.” Sophie was dumbfounded. She had never heard “bullying” described in such a refreshingly corporate way. “Rest assured, this service is included in my monthly salary. I only require the subject’s cooperation.” “For instance… now.” My gaze sharpened, my tone turning imperious. “Come here and clear my plate.” Sophie instinctively looked to her parents. I sneered. “What are you looking at them for? In the future, when your powerful mother-in-law demands you serve her, are you just going to cry for your mommy?” “Did you think being a society wife was easy?” Richard mulled it over for a moment and then, to my surprise, nodded. “Victoria is right. Sophie, it’s time you started training.” Sophie, her face a mask of shock and humiliation, carried my plate to the kitchen. I turned to Richard with a slight smile. “See, boss? This is called the catfish effect.” “Sardines only improve their survival rate when they’re being chased by a catfish.” “A flower raised in a greenhouse has no core competency. It has no value on the open market.” For the first time, the way Richard looked at me held something different. A flicker of reassessment. 3 I adapted to my job as the “true heiress” quickly. In the original story, the protagonist was always jealous of Sophie and would dress in flashy, garish outfits to one-up her, only to be mocked for being tacky. I had no need for that. I was here to work. Every day, I wore sharply tailored business attire, my hair pulled back neatly, and I moved through the house with an air of purpose. When I saw Richard, it was, “Good morning, Mr. Donovan.” When I saw Anabelle, “Mrs. Donovan.” To William, “Mr. William.” And to Sophie, “Miss Sophie, your foundation looks a bit cakey today. I suggest trying a different formula.” One day, the male lead from the novel, my nominal fiancé, Marcus Blackwood, came to visit. This heir to a fortune was notoriously arrogant and unruly. He was in love with Sophie, but his grandfather was forcing him to marry the true heiress, so he was openly hostile toward me. “So you’re the one from the countryside?” Marcus sneered, looking down his nose at me. “You have a passing resemblance to my aunt and uncle, I suppose. A shame about the lack of refinement.” “You can put a pig in a dress, but it’s still a pig. Don’t think returning to the Donovan family means you can just climb the social ladder.” Such painfully cliché lines. I couldn’t be bothered with this idiot. Sophie nestled against him, her eyes welling up again. “Marcus, don’t say that about my sister. She’s trying her best. We shouldn’t mock her.” “Sophie, you’re just too kind,” Marcus said, pulling her into a protective embrace before glaring at me. “I’m warning you, stay away from me. Don’t get any foolish ideas. The only woman I will ever marry is Sophie.” Fine. I admit it. My tolerance for idiots is zero. I put down the tablet I was holding, which contained the company’s latest financial report that Richard had asked me to review. That’s right. After repeatedly proving my value, Richard had finally agreed to let me get involved in some of the company’s peripheral business. I cherished every opportunity to work, but this moron was disrupting my focus. “Mr. Blackwood, regarding our engagement—this non-performing asset—due to its uncontrollable risks and extremely low rate of return, I have no interest in acquiring you.” Marcus’s brow furrowed. “What did you say? A non-performing asset?” “Isn’t that what you are?” I met his angry gaze without flinching. “Poor emotional regulation. Inappropriate public conduct. A complete lack of basic respect for a potential business partner, engaging in blatant personal attacks.” “As a future spouse, your performance is severely inadequate.” “You!” Marcus shot to his feet, trying to intimidate me with his height. “Stand still.” My voice was a sudden, sharp command. The sheer force of my presence made him freeze instinctively. “Since you’re so determined to be Sophie’s white knight, you should at least have the assets of one.” My eyes scanned him from head to toe, as sharp as an X-ray, finally settling on his midsection. “Unbutton your shirt.” Marcus was completely bewildered, unsure how the situation had taken such a sharp turn. “What?” “What are you trying to do?” “Get your mind out of the gutter, you pervert.” I cut him off with a cold eye-roll. “I am currently conducting quality control for the family gene pool. In the current market, there’s a surplus of alpha CEO types. Looks and physique are the only hard currency.” “Sophie is so delicate and fragile. She’s bound to be harassed by all sorts of vultures at social events.” “If you don’t even have a six-pack, how are you supposed to protect her? How can you be a fashionable accessory she can proudly display on her arm?” “Are you planning to defend her with that foul mouth of yours?” Marcus’s face turned beet red. He hated being looked down on, especially in front of the delicate Sophie. “I work out three times a week! I have plenty of muscle!” I raised an eyebrow, my expression dripping with disbelief. “Talk is cheap. For all I know, you’re all bark and no bite. An empty suit with a soft body underneath.” Then, I turned to Sophie with a sigh. “Sophie, darling, I’m not trying to cause trouble.” “But if Mr. Blackwood isn’t even willing to show this small token of sincerity, I doubt he truly loves you.” “And even if he does, you should be careful.” “Men like him look impressive on the outside, but they’re often all show. A man who lacks the confidence to show his physique is probably insecure. It might even mean he… has performance issues in other areas.” At my words, Sophie frowned and began to scrutinize Marcus. “Marcus, if Victoria is just trying to help our future, maybe you should just show her. It’s no big deal.” “I’d also like to see if you really have a six-pack.” Marcus stared at Sophie in disbelief. Under our united front of “it’s for the greater good,” this proud heir experienced the first real gaslighting of his life. 4 Gritting his teeth, desperate to prove to the woman he loved that he was “man enough,” and to wipe the smug, condescending look off my face, Marcus acted on impulse. He ripped open his shirt. “Open your damn eyes and look!” Sophie gasped, covering her mouth with a blush. Marcus shot me a defiant look, as if he’d just won a great victory. “See that, you country bumpkin? Can you shut up now?” However, I didn’t show the slightest hint of the slapped-in-the-face embarrassment he expected. Instead, I stepped closer, my expression neutral, inspecting him as if I were picking out a cut of pork at the market. “Body fat percentage is average, at best. The lines aren’t well-defined.” “On a scale of Hero to NPC, you’re barely a background character.” “Alright, button up. You’re an eyesore.”

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While vacationing in Saint Augustine with my dad, my wife’s male assistant suddenly sent me a photo of a man stripped naked and covered in blood. It was accompanied by an arrogant voice message: “Tom Sterling, do you country folk just love to take advantage of things?” “Ms. Harper just bought this villa, and you let your old man, your deadbeat dad, crash there? As Ms. Harper’s assistant, I have every right to protect her property from intrusion.” “This is what happens when your dad trespasses into the villa!” I froze, then looked across at my dad, who was sitting there perfectly fine. I then zoomed in on the photo Tom had sent. My heart plummeted. Isn’t that my father-in-law? I immediately called Tom Barclay. “Tom, have you lost your mind? That’s Seraphina Harper’s father!” Tom scoffed dismissively, “Ms. Harper said, your dad is your dad, and her dad is her dad. She never considered your dad family.” 1 Tom hung up immediately after that. I didn’t dare delay, quickly booking a flight for that day and rushing to the airport. At the same time, I dialed Seraphina’s number. “Seraphina, Dad was beaten by Tom at your new villa, you need to go there…” “Alright, I know what you’re going to say.” Seraphina cut me off, her voice chilling. “I think Tom’s lesson was appropriate.” I was stunned. “What did you say?” Seraphina sighed, sounding a bit exasperated. “Tom, even though we’re married, your dad should have some basic boundaries. He can’t just take advantage of my being your wife, always trying to get something for free or seek small benefits from me.” I was getting agitated. “You’ve got it all wrong, he’s your…” “Enough!” Seraphina snapped impatiently. “So what if he’s my father-in-law? I’m not obligated to indulge his greed.” “Today he dares to freeload at my villa, tomorrow he’ll just come to my company demanding money.” “Tom disciplining him, making him learn his lesson, is also for his own good.” Seraphina’s words instantly chilled my frantic heart. My dad might be a countryman, but he had lived a life of kindness and simplicity, never taking advantage of anyone, and for Seraphina, he had only given, never asked. When Seraphina’s company was starting up and she was short on funds, my dad had unhesitatingly pulled out all the retirement savings he had accumulated his entire life. Knowing she had a weak stomach, no matter how busy he was, my dad would always find time to make various stomach-nourishing foods, traveling miles to deliver them to the city. Yet, such a simple, kind old man who treated her like his own child, was, in Seraphina’s words, a greedy leech with no boundaries who deserved to be taught a lesson. My heart ached with desolation, and my voice grew colder. “Seraphina, Dad seems seriously hurt. I advise you to quickly send someone to take him to the hospital. After all, it wasn’t easy for him to raise you.” Seraphina immediately flared up. “Tom, are you sick? When has your dad ever raised me?” “No wonder Tom couldn’t help but teach your dad a lesson. With a son like you, he deserves the beating!” “My dad is coming back from overseas soon. I still need to prepare a surprise and a welcome party for him. I don’t have time for your messy, petty problems.” With that, Seraphina hung up. On the way, I saw Seraphina had posted an update. Just a short sentence: “My father is returning home. I can finally show him my filial devotion properly.” I silently liked the post. A morbid curiosity arose in me. What would her devoted reaction be when she realized her dad was beaten black and blue by Tom? By evening, I arrived at Seraphina’s hilltop villa. The villa’s courtyard was adorned with flowers and balloons, and a magnificent golden archway proudly displayed large letters: “Welcome Home, Dearest Father!” Beneath the arch, all of Seraphina’s family and friends were gathered. Seeing me, everyone’s expressions turned complex. As I stepped into the courtyard, I noticed a body covered by a white sheet, tucked away in a corner of the yard! Seeing the body, my entire being stiffened. Just then, Tom stepped forward, feigning regret, “Tom, I just meant to teach your dad a simple lesson. Who knew he was so fragile? He suddenly had a heart attack and died on the spot.” “You won’t blame me, will you?” So, my father-in-law was murdered by Tom? My heart pounded wildly. I was about to speak. But Seraphina stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Tom, and gently comforted him, “Tom, this isn’t your fault. You were just looking out for me.” “Blame it on his dad for being short-lived and always causing trouble.” “It’s already merciful that you haven’t demanded emotional damages from Tom.” With that, Seraphina glared at me with a dark expression, her voice chilling, “Tom, look at what your dad has done.” “Dying in my villa not only frightened Tom but also cast a shadow over the welcome party I specially prepared for my dad.” Seeing her righteous indignation, I found it utterly laughable. I couldn’t help but point at the covered body and say seriously, “Seraphina, I suggest you lift that white sheet and take a good look at who’s actually dead!” Seraphina frowned. “Isn’t it your dad? What’s there to see?” “I don’t want to pollute my eyes!” My sister-in-law, Chloe, also chimed in with disdain, “My sister bought this villa especially to give to our dad when he came back. He hasn’t even lived in it yet, and your dad comes to freeload first? How disgusting?” “If you ask me, he deserved to die. It saves him from embarrassing us again in the future.” “Do you really think that just because you married into the Harper family, your whole family gets to ride on our coattails?” 2 Seeing Seraphina and Chloe both siding with Tom, Seraphina’s relatives and friends also quickly took sides, declaring their positions: “Exactly! Such a freeloading father-in-law is a parasite on society even when alive.” “This time he embarrassed us among family. If he embarrasses us outside next time, who knows how others will mock the Harper family.” “Exactly. Anyone who doesn’t know us might think the Harpers are raising a family of beggars.” “So, Assistant Barclay handled this perfectly. It’s a permanent solution for the Harper family.” In an instant, everyone was praising Tom. It was as if the person who died by his hand was a heinous criminal, and he, Tom, was a great hero who had rid the Harper family of evil. Tom glanced at me with a smug look, then, the next second, he timidly said to Seraphina, “But Ms. Harper, the deceased is Tom’s father, after all. What if he causes trouble for me?” Seraphina looked at him with tender affection. “Don’t worry. With me here, no one can harm you.” With that, Seraphina immediately had someone draft a letter of understanding and handed it to me. “Tom, your dad was in the wrong first. His death is just bad luck, not Tom’s fault.” “For the sake of our marriage, I won’t pursue the matter of your dad trespassing in my villa and dying here, affecting my father’s welcome party.” “But you must sign this letter of understanding, guaranteeing that this matter ends here and you won’t cause trouble for Tom.” Chloe also stood with her arms crossed, condescendingly stating, “Tom, your dad brought this upon himself. Don’t even think about pinning anything on Tom. Be smart and sign the letter of understanding.” The two sisters imperiously ordered me, waiting for me to sign the letter of understanding. But I pushed the letter back to them, calmly saying, “If anyone’s signing, it’s you. I’m not qualified.” 3 Seraphina, assuming I was refusing, immediately snapped, “Tom, don’t be ungrateful.” “Your dad was just an unemployed drifter, completely worthless in this world. Tom is still young, with a bright future ahead of him. Are you really going to ruin him for a dead man?” Chloe also frowned, echoing, “Exactly! Your dad was just a waste of food when he was alive. Tom has done society a favor.” “You don’t even thank him, and you’re still thinking of extorting him?” I calmly explained, “You’ve got it wrong. What I mean is, the person who died is your father. This letter of understanding can only be signed by you.” Chloe, hearing me say this, instantly became agitated. “Tom, are you insane? How dare you say such unlucky things and curse my dad at his welcome party?” Seraphina was also enraged. “Tom, it seems I’ve spoiled you too much all these years, letting you become so arrogant, you don’t even know how to show basic respect to your elders.” “My dad is the most important person in my life. I won’t allow anyone to disrespect him, not even if you’re my husband!” With that, she suddenly turned and barked at a bodyguard nearby, “Go throw that old man’s body into the cesspit!” The bodyguard hesitated, glancing at me. “Ms. Harper, this… this might not be appropriate?” Seraphina sternly said, “He won’t sign the letter of understanding, won’t he? He likes to curse my dad, doesn’t he? Today I’ll make him realize the consequences of disrespecting my dad!” “Do as I say! Any problems, I’ll take responsibility!” Seeing Seraphina’s anger, the bodyguard dared not disobey and immediately went to carry out the order. The guests on site shook their heads repeatedly, murmuring among themselves: “Tom has truly touched Ms. Harper’s raw nerve this time.” “Exactly. Ms. Harper’s mother passed away early; Mr. Harper raised the two sisters alone. Everyone knows Ms. Harper cares most about Mr. Harper. This Tom is truly insane, cursing Mr. Harper at his welcome party!” “No wonder his dad died. With such an ungrateful son, what parent could live long?” The chatter of the crowd was jarring but didn’t affect me in the slightest. I ignored everyone, looking at Seraphina, and said, word by word, “Seraphina, are you sure you want to go this far?” Seraphina looked down at me from her superior position, her voice sharp. “Tom, this is all your own doing.” “Your dad’s death is entirely because he was shameless and loved petty advantages.” “You shouldn’t, because of this, repeatedly curse and bring bad luck to my dad at his welcome party.” “If you ask me, your dad deserved to die early, having an ungrateful, disrespectful son like you!” The words had barely left her mouth. My dad suddenly walked into the villa, looking at Seraphina, and asked in confusion, “Who died?”

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The call came in the middle of the night. It was my colleague, Jessica. Her mom was in critical condition and needed Rh-negative blood. I was a match. So I went and donated 400cc. Her family didn’t offer a single word of thanks. They didn’t even make me a bowl of soup. Six months later, the phone rang again. “The blood we got last time wasn’t enough. We’re going to have to trouble you again.” I held the phone to my ear and spelled it out, one word at a time. “A 400cc intravenous donation. Compensation for nutritional supplements, lost work, and emotional distress. The total comes to twenty thousand dollars.” “Wire the money first. I’ll go as soon as it hits my account.” 01 On the other end of the line, Jessica Bell’s voice cut out as if the signal had died. The silence was absolute, stretching for three long seconds. It was followed by a volcanic eruption of rage. “Alex, are you fucking insane? This is extortion! My mother is lying in a hospital bed, and you’re demanding money from me?” I moved the phone slightly away from my ear to escape her piercing shriek, my gaze drifting to the inky blackness outside the window. Tonight’s sky was just like the one six months ago—a thick, suffocating darkness that refused to yield. My voice was calm. “That’s my price. If you accept, transfer the money. If not, find someone else.” “Do you have a conscience? This is a human life we’re talking about! How can you just stand by and watch someone die?” Jessica screamed into the phone, her voice cracking. Each word was a sharp, moral dagger, trying to nail me to a pillar of shame. A conscience? An image from six months ago flashed, unbidden, before my eyes. Two in the morning. The donation center at City General Hospital. The needle slid out of the vein in my arm as 400cc of my crimson blood flowed through a tube into a sterile bag. The nurse told me to press down on the cotton ball and get some rest. I was dizzy and nauseous, my face as pale as a sheet, sitting alone on a cold bench in the corridor. Not far from me, Jessica and her father, David Bell, were gathered around the doctor who had just emerged from the operating room. They were showering him with emotional questions and endless words of gratitude. “Thank you, Doctor, thank you! You’re our family’s savior!” “You must be exhausted, Doctor. Please, have some water!” Not once did either of them so much as glance in my direction. I was like a spare chair in the hallway, used and then forgotten, an object of no concern. The warmth that left my body with the blood was nothing compared to the chill seeping into my heart. I sat there alone until the dizziness subsided, then used the wall to steady myself as I shuffled out of the hospital, one slow step at a time. The frigid pre-dawn wind cut through my thin clothes. I pulled my jacket tighter and hailed a cab. As the car passed by Jessica’s apartment building, I could smell it, even through the closed window: the rich, savory aroma of chicken soup wafting from her kitchen. It must have been for David, a nourishing meal to help him recover after a long, stressful night. And me? The person who had just given 400cc of life-saving blood? I hadn’t been offered so much as a glass of water. The memory was a needle, piercing my heart and reawakening the long-suppressed humiliation and coldness. I let out a bitter laugh into the phone. “I’ll say it again. Twenty thousand dollars. I’ll go when the money arrives.” Then, I hung up. Without a moment’s hesitation, I found Jessica’s contact and blocked her number. The moment I did, my world fell blessedly silent. But the screen lit up again almost immediately. An unknown number. I didn’t answer. I let it ring, persistent and demanding. Soon, the text messages started flooding in. “Alex you son of a bitch! You’ll get what’s coming to you!” “If anything happens to my mom, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life!” “Please, Alex, I’m begging you. Just consider it a loan, okay? We have to save her!” “You heartless monster. I hope you die a horrible death!” The tone shifted from desperate pleading to venomous curses in a heartbeat, a perfect reflection of Jessica’s true, self-serving nature. Expressionless, I screenshotted every single message and saved them in a newly created folder I named “Evidence.” Then, I switched my phone to airplane mode. The buzzing, frantic world finally went quiet. I knew this was only the beginning. They had grown accustomed to my “kindness,” to me being “easygoing.” Now that my kindness had a price tag, they could only see it as a betrayal. Since they had no decency, I would teach them about value. 02 The moment I stepped into the office the next day, I could feel the oppressive weight in the air. Colleagues were whispering in hushed clusters, their eyes on me filled with a mix of curiosity and unconcealed disdain. I knew instantly. Jessica’s smear campaign had already begun. Sure enough, just as I sat down, my desk phone rang. It was a call transferred from the front desk. The second I picked up, David Bell’s voice, sharp enough to pierce my eardrum, exploded through the receiver. “You heartless little bastard! How dare you show your face at work!” His voice was so loud and strained that I could hear the whistle of his breath, ragged with fury. I instinctively winced and held the receiver a little further from my ear. The colleague in the cubicle next to me immediately perked up, pretending to shuffle papers while his eyes were glued to my every move. “Our Jessica is such a good person! She thought of you as her best friend, and what do you do? You take advantage of our crisis! What kind of sick game are you playing?” David began to sob, his voice thick with a nasal whine, as if he were the most aggrieved man on earth. “My wife is still lying in the hospital! The doctors say she could go at any moment, and you won’t help save her life for twenty thousand dollars? Can you even sleep at night? Is your blood made of gold?” His words were a dull knife, sawing at my nerves. Especially that line, “Is your blood made of gold?” It was an echo of Jessica’s accusation from the night before. No, my blood isn’t made of gold. But it is a part of my body, the very essence that keeps me alive. Why should I be expected to give it away for free, just to satisfy their sense of entitlement? I calmly turned in my chair, shielding myself from the prying eyes around me, and pressed the record button on my cell phone. “Mr. Bell, if you have something to say, say it. Yelling won’t solve anything,” I said, my tone as placid as if I were discussing the weather. My composure seemed to enrage him further. “Solve anything? Twenty thousand dollars! Why don’t you just rob a bank? You’re trying to ruin us!” “We were doing you a favor by asking you to donate! We were giving you a chance to do a good deed! And you threw it back in our faces!” That sentence ignited the fury I had been suppressing all night. Doing me a favor? So, in their eyes, my sacrifice was nothing more than a gift they had bestowed upon me. I cut him off, my voice cold. “The first time I donated, it was a favor, not an obligation. You people couldn’t even be bothered to say a simple ‘thank you.’ What right do you have to come asking me for anything now?” There was a brief, choked silence on the other end. Then David immediately switched to full-blown tantrum mode. “I don’t care! You have to go to the hospital today! If you don’t, I’ll come to your office and cause a scene! I’ll let everyone see what kind of person you are! A cold-blooded monster who values money more than a human life!” “You just wait! I’m on my way! I’ll make sure you can’t work there anymore! I’ll destroy your reputation!” He was threatening me, his voice growing shriller with every word. I held the phone tightly and replied, each word deliberate. “You’re welcome to try. It will be a perfect opportunity for everyone to judge for themselves who the truly cold-blooded one is: the person who ignored someone for six months, only remembering them when they needed more blood.” “And by the way, every single word you’ve just said, including your insults and threats, has been recorded.” “If necessary, I will be forwarding this recording to my lawyer as evidence.” The line went dead silent, except for the sound of David’s ragged, furious breathing. I didn’t give him another chance to speak. I hung up. I renamed the audio file “Threats from David Bell” and uploaded it to my cloud for backup. I knew a much bigger storm was brewing. They wouldn’t give up this easily. And I was ready to see it through to the end. 03 The office was eerily quiet. Everyone pretended to be busy, but I could feel their stares, invisible threads weaving a suffocating net around me, pressing in from all sides. Jessica was wearing a faded, worn-out t-shirt today. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were bloodshot, and dark circles were bruised beneath them. She wasn’t at her desk. Instead, she was making the rounds in the breakroom, “confiding” in different colleagues. As I got up to get some water, I could clearly hear her voice, strained with suppressed “sobs.” “…My mom is still in the ICU. The doctor says it’s not looking good, she needs a transfusion urgently… I’m just so desperate…” “I thought Alex was my best friend. Last time, he helped without a second thought. I assumed it would be the same this time…” She paused for dramatic effect, letting out a heavy sigh that dripped with helplessness and disappointment. “But who knew… he demanded twenty thousand dollars. Not a penny less, he said. My mom’s life, in his eyes, is only worth twenty thousand dollars…” A male colleague who was friendly with her patted her on the shoulder, his voice filled with righteous indignation. “That’s inhuman. Kicking someone when they’re down like that.” Another female colleague chimed in, “Exactly. Alex always seemed so quiet. I never thought he could be so heartless. It’s a person’s life on the line!” Jessica looked at them with her bloodshot eyes, a grateful expression on her face, before shooting a venomous, wounded glare in my direction from across the room. She had successfully painted herself as a poor, devoted daughter, pushed to the brink and betrayed by a friend. And I was the villain. The cold-blooded opportunist. I walked back to my desk with my water, the weight of their contempt and judgment clinging to my back. A female colleague who had been on decent terms with me walked past my desk, carrying a stack of files. She let out a loud “Hmph.” It wasn’t loud, but in the silent office, it was sharp and clear. Then, as if she’d lost her balance, the files in her hands went flying. “Whoops!” Half of them landed on my desk, knocking over my glass of water. Warm water spilled everywhere, soaking my keyboard and mousepad. “Oh, my bad,” she said, her voice devoid of any real apology. She slowly picked up her papers one by one, never once making eye contact with me. I silently grabbed some tissues and started cleaning up the mess, not saying a word. I was completely ostracized. Just then, my desk phone rang. It was the internal line from my department head, Mr. Rogers. He wanted to see me in his office. I walked straight in. Mr. Rogers gestured for me to sit, his face arranged in a look of paternal concern. “Alex, I’ve heard about what’s going on with Jessica’s family,” he began. He steepled his fingers on his desk and leaned forward slightly, adopting the posture of a man ready to “solve my problems.” “We’re all colleagues here. When someone is facing such a difficult time, we should help if we can. This isn’t just about helping Jessica; it’s about maintaining unity within our department.” I tried to explain. “Mr. Rogers, it’s not what they’re saying. Six months ago, I donated blood, and they…” He cut me off with a wave of his hand, a flicker of impatience on his face. Or maybe, he simply didn’t care about the truth. “Regardless, a life is at stake. For you to just name a price like that… it doesn’t reflect well on the company if word gets out. What will people think of us? That we’re all a bunch of cold, indifferent people here?” His words were a soft blade, each one twisting in a vulnerable spot. He didn’t care about the facts or my feelings. All he cared about was the “company’s image” and “department unity.” “Alex, I need you to look at the big picture and handle this properly. Don’t let your personal feelings affect your work, or your own future here.” That last sentence was a clear warning, a veiled threat. If I didn’t handle this “properly,” my annual performance review, my chances for promotion, would all go up in smoke. This was blatant corporate pressure. I walked out of his office feeling as though the walls were closing in. The rumors, the accusing stares, the pressure from management—it was all converging, layer by layer, threatening to crush me. I sat at my desk, feeling utterly drained. Humiliation, anger, helplessness… they churned inside me. But I didn’t cry. Tears are the cheapest currency in the world. They don’t buy you sympathy, only more contempt. I opened my laptop, ignoring the flashing notifications from work applications, and launched my web browser. In the search bar, I typed, word by word: “Rh-negative blood,” “paid donation,” “legal statutes,” “related case law.” They thought they could break me by isolating and pressuring me. They were wrong. The more they pushed, the more determined I became to fight back. If no one was going to stand with me, then I would become my own armor and my own weapon. 04 Over the weekend, all I wanted was to lock myself away at home, shutting out the noise of the world. But peace was a luxury I wouldn’t be afforded. Around two in the afternoon, the doorbell began to ring, not just rung, but assaulted—a frantic, furious rhythm that threatened to break the button. It was immediately followed by the sound of David Bell’s hysterical wailing. “Alex! Open this door! You murderer! Get out here!” I peered through the peephole. He looked like a madman, his hair disheveled, pounding on my security door with his fists, his face twisted in a mask of rage. A few of my neighbors were already peeking out of their doors. I didn’t open mine. I had no desire to engage with him. My silence only fueled his frenzy. He threw himself on the floor of the hallway, wailing and beating the ground. “Everyone, come and look! It’s the young man in this apartment! His heart is blacker than ink!” “My daughter treated him like a friend, and what does he do? He tries to extort twenty thousand dollars from us while my wife is dying!” “He’s watching her die! There’s no justice in this world! If anything happens to my wife, I’ll haunt him forever!” His voice was shrill and piercing, carrying down the entire hall. Soon, a small crowd of neighbors had gathered. Their whispers seeped through the crack under my door like ants crawling into my ears. “Oh my, he looks like such a quiet young man. How could his heart be so cruel?” “I know, that poor man sounds so pitiful. His wife is waiting for that blood.” “Twenty thousand dollars? That’s no different than murder.” Every word was an invisible knife. I couldn’t stand this public trial, this humiliation. I yanked the door open. I just wanted him to shut up. The moment he saw me, a vicious light flared in his eyes. Like a starving wolf spotting its prey, he sprang up from the floor and lunged at me. He grabbed my arm, his nails digging deep into my flesh, and tried to drag me out into the hallway. “You’re coming with me to the hospital! You’re donating today whether you like it or not! You don’t have a choice!” His strength was astonishing. I struggled, but he held me in a death grip. In the chaos, David raised his hand and, with all his might, brought it down across my face. CRACK! The sharp, echoing sound reverberated through the hallway. A searing, white-hot pain exploded across my left cheek. My ears rang. I was completely stunned. Stunned by the blow. And completely awakened by it. In that instant, all the humiliation, the anger, the restraint—it all coalesced into a cold, hard flame that shot from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. With every ounce of strength I had, I shoved him away. David, caught off balance, stumbled back several steps and landed hard on the floor. I retreated inside, slammed the door, and threw the deadbolt, my back pressed against the cold metal, my heart pounding in my chest. Without hesitating, my trembling hands dialed 911. The police arrived quickly. The second David saw the uniforms, he transformed into a master actor. He collapsed onto the floor and began to cry even more theatrically than before. He pointed at my closed door, sobbing to the officers that not only had I refused to save a life, but I had also assaulted him, an elder. Just then, the sound of frantic footsteps came from the stairwell. Jessica had arrived. It was as if she had timed it perfectly. She rushed up to the officers, breathless, her face a mask of grief and desperation. She pointed a shaking finger at my door and screamed at the police. “Officers, it’s him! That’s Alex!” “My mother is in the hospital waiting for blood to save her life, and he’s using it to extort twenty thousand dollars from our family!” She pulled her phone from her pocket and held it up to the officers, her face contorted with a triumphant grimace, as if she held irrefutable proof. “I have a recording! He admitted it himself! Officers, this isn’t extortion—it’s attempted murder!”

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