Category: English

On the day of our divorce, my ex-husband pointed aggressively at me and my daughter, his face contorted with rage. “Take your little jinx of a daughter and get the hell out of my life! As long as she’s around, the Miller family will never have a single day of peace!” All because my daughter had pointed at his beloved sedan earlier that day and whispered one word: “Boom.” Right after he hit the road, his tire blew out. The car veered off course, crashing headfirst into the guardrail. Although he wasn’t seriously hurt, the sheer terror of the crash left him completely impotent. He was absolutely convinced that our daughter had cursed him. Without a single word of protest, I signed the divorce papers, took my daughter, and walked away with absolutely nothing to my name. On New Year’s Day, I took my daughter with me to a local café for a blind date. My daughter pointed at the first man, an Ivy League elite, and whispered: “Abuse.” I politely declined him. Later, I heard he was arrested for domestic violence that left his ex-wife permanently disabled. My daughter pointed at the second man, a crypto trust-fund playboy, and whispered: “Bust.” I turned around and walked out immediately. Within a week, he was busted in a massive drug raid. It wasn’t until we met a rugged veteran driving a beat-up old Jeep that my daughter smiled for the very first time. She pointed at him and whispered: “Gold.” When my ex-husband’s family heard I was dating a broke loser, they threw a party with firecrackers to celebrate my misery. But what they didn’t know was that Carter’s tire had blown out because his cheap mother, Helen, had swapped his tires with expired, recalled ones at a shady junkyard just to “save her son some money.” And the “broke loser” my daughter had chosen for me? He was about to inherit a multi-billion-dollar empire.

Helen Miller stood by the iron gates of her mansion, holding a massive strip of firecrackers, her face wrinkled with a nasty, mocking grin. She flicked her lighter and spat on the ground right in front of me and Mason Cole, who was gently holding my daughter. “Good riddance, you trashy leech! Today is New Year’s Day. Blasting you two freeloaders away will bring fortune and blessings back to my son!” The firecrackers exploded with deafening bangs. Red paper debris rained down, some landing in my daughter Lily’s hair. I quickly covered Lily’s ears, my fingers tightening around the hot, freshly stamped divorce certificate in my hand. Mason’s mud-splattered Jeep sat idling by the curb, its hood vibrating in sync with the explosions. The neighbors gathered around, pointing and whispering behind their hands. “Look at that guy’s car. It’s dirtier than a garbage truck. Avery must be truly desperate.” “The Miller family is worth billions. Now that she’s divorced Carter, she’ll probably end up begging on the streets with that baggage of a kid.” Carter’s luxury sports car pulled up, the window rolling down halfway. He held a thick cigar, blowing a cloud of suffocating smoke directly into my face, making Lily cough violently. “Avery, a trash collector’s ride is exactly what you deserve. Just do me a favor and beg in another city. Don’t embarrass the Miller name.” Lily stared quietly at the shiny, spinning rims of Carter’s car. She reached out her tiny hand, pointing directly at his brand-new front tire. “Pop.” Carter’s face darkened instantly. He threw his cigar butt right at our feet. “You little brat, you dare curse me again? Mom! Go buy more firecrackers! I need to blast this evil energy away!” He slammed on the gas. The engine roared, and the sports car shot forward like a bullet. Helen was just about to run and buy more firecrackers, cursing us under her breath. But the moment Carter’s car crossed the intersection, his front-left wheel suddenly detached. It went rolling wildly into the bushes. The car lost balance. The chassis slammed against the asphalt, sending sparks flying everywhere before the vehicle screeched to a halt, black smoke billowing from under the hood. The crowd went dead silent, followed by a wave of gasps. The lighter slipped from Helen’s hand, her eyes nearly popping out of her skull. Lily turned around, reaching into the backseat of the Jeep, and flashed a sweet smile at the rugged, bearded man. “Gold.” Mason’s hand froze on the steering wheel. He looked down at Lily, a rare warmth softening his stern eyes. He fumbled around and pulled out a warm, foil-wrapped pulled pork slider. “Eat up while it’s hot. Double meat, no cilantro, just the way you like it. I saved it especially for you.” Lily took a big bite, sweet BBQ sauce smudging the corner of her mouth. Carter dragged himself out of the smoking wreck, his forehead bleeding. He pointed a shaking finger at us and screamed. “Avery! It’s you! You made your freaky daughter do this! I’m going to ruin you!” I pulled open the passenger door and climbed in, not giving him a single glance. Mason got in, shifted gears, and stepped on the gas with practiced ease. As we started to pull away, someone threw an empty soda can at our windshield. The Jeep hit a bump at that exact second. The can missed our roof entirely, bouncing back and hitting Helen squarely on her forehead. “Ow! What idiot threw that! My head! I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding!” In the rearview mirror, Helen was rolling on the grass clutching her head, while Carter screamed in useless, impotent rage. Mason kept his eyes on the road, his grip firm on the steering wheel. His voice was deep and steady. “Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, nobody will ever lay a finger on you or Lily again.”

Mason parked the Jeep outside a run-down apartment building in the shady part of town. The hallway lights were completely broken. Up on the third floor, the keyhole of our apartment door had been maliciously filled with superglue. Lily tugged at my jeans, pointing at the lock. “Broken.” I was just about to call a locksmith when Mason stepped forward. With a single, powerful kick—*BANG*—the heavy door flew open, dust raining down from the frame. The apartment was stripped bare. Dirty footprints covered the hardwood floor. Every piece of furniture the Millers had bought was gone. My and Lily’s old clothes had been shredded into pieces, thrown on the floor, and trampled into the black mud. Lily ran to the corner of the room, pulling a dirty ceramic bowl out from under a pile of trash. “Treasure.” My eyes welled with tears. I was about to tell her to throw the dirty thing away. But Mason took the bowl from her, shining his tactical flashlight on the bottom of it. “This is a genuine Ming Dynasty blue-and-white ceramic bowl. It has a tiny chip, but to the right collector, this is easily worth fifty grand.” He held up five fingers with a quiet grin. Suddenly, the sharp clacking of high heels echoed from the stairwell. Carter walked in with Tiffany Vance clinging to his arm. A large white bandage was plastered over his forehead. Tiffany pinched her nose in disgust, using her expensive stiletto to kick aside the shredded fabric on the floor. “Babe, is this the dog kennel your ex-wife lives in? I can’t even find a clean spot to step. How pathetic.” Carter threw a property deed relinquishment form right at my face. “Sign it. The down payment for this crappy apartment came from my family. You walked out of the divorce with nothing. You have no right to stay here.” I stared at the paper, my hands shaking with pure anger. Tiffany lunged forward to grab my keys, her long acrylic nails almost scratching Lily’s eye. “What are you looking at, you little orphan? And you, you washed-up housewife, get the hell out of here!” Lily stared directly at the bridge of Tiffany’s nose, pointing her tiny finger. “Fake.” Tiffany shrieked, instantly lunging forward to claw at Lily’s face. “You brat! Who are you calling fake? My face is one hundred percent natural!” Mason stepped in front of us, grabbing Tiffany’s wrist in a iron grip. Tiffany writhed, trying to scratch Mason’s face with her free hand. “Let go of me! You broke gigolo! Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have my guys gouge your eyes out!” Lily peeked out from behind Mason’s leg. “Nose. Fake.” Mason suddenly let go. Unable to stop her own momentum, Tiffany stumbled forward and smashed her face hard against the wooden doorframe. Tiffany clutched her nose, screaming in agony as blood poured through her fingers. When she looked up, the bridge of her nose was completely bent to the left. The silicone implant was visibly pushing against her skin. Her entire face looked monstrously deformed. Terrified, Carter stumbled backward, grabbing the hysterical Tiffany and running down the stairs. The next day, I sold the Ming bowl for fifty thousand dollars and immediately enrolled Lily in the best private preschool in the city. However, the principal called me hours later to cancel her enrollment. Carter was pulling strings behind the scenes to blacklist us. I spent days applying for jobs, but every door was slammed in my face. Finally, Mason took me to a small, hidden security firm he ran. Inside, a few burly men were gathered around a computer screen, watching the stock market. The screen was a sea of red. A bald, muscular guy was slamming his fist on the desk, cursing. Lily, holding her baby bottle, walked over to the monitor. She tapped on the stock ticker that was plummeting the fastest. “Moon.” The bald guy looked at Mason, who was quietly polishing his combat boots. Mason didn’t even look up. “Go all in. If we lose, it’s on me. If we win, buy the kid some candy.” The guys gritted their teeth and poured all their capital into the stock. Ten minutes later, the stock line shot straight up, hitting the daily limit. The office erupted into wild cheers. The tough-looking guards hugged each other, laughing like kids. Just then, a gold-embossed envelope was slipped under the front door. It was an invitation to Carter and Tiffany’s engagement party. They had sent it to me on purpose. My grip tightened around the heavy paper. Lily picked up a black marker and drew a messy black cloud right over Carter’s name. “Doom.” Mason stood up, putting on his polished boots and a well-fitted, charcoal-grey suit. “We’re going. Why wouldn’t we? If someone begs for a slap in the face, it’s only polite to deliver.” The engagement party was held at a five-star hotel. The parking lot was packed with multi-million-dollar supercars. Helen Miller, holding a glass of expensive red wine, swaggered toward me the moment we walked in. “Well, well. If it isn’t the cursed leech we threw out. How did you even get in wearing such cheap rags?”

With a nasty flick of her wrist, she splashed her red wine right at me. Mason reacted instantly. He stripped off his suit jacket and wrapped it around me, taking the wet splash entirely on his back. On the grand stage, Carter stood proudly, his arm wrapped around Tiffany, who was gently stroking her flat stomach. “Ladies and gentlemen, today is not just our engagement. I have another incredible piece of news to share.” “Tiffany is pregnant with the Miller heir! We’ve already done the ultrasound—it’s a boy!” The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Carter looked down at me with a smirk. “Unlike some useless women who can’t even produce a proper heir and treat a useless girl like a treasure.” Lily, sitting comfortably on Mason’s strong arm, pointed at Tiffany’s stomach. “Empty.” Carter’s face turned the color of raw liver. He slammed the microphone onto the stage. The screeching feedback silenced the entire ballroom. He stormed down the stage, raising his hand to slap Lily. “You little brat! I’m going to tear your mouth apart today!” His hand was caught mid-air. Holding Lily securely with one arm, Mason gripped Carter’s wrist with his other hand. With a sickening *crack*, Carter screamed and fell to his knees. Tiffany screamed, rushing forward in her gown. “Security! Where the hell is security! Beat these bums to death! I’ll take the blame!” Suddenly, the massive crystal chandelier overhead made a strange creaking noise. Lily tugged at Mason’s collar, pointing backward. “Back.” Mason took a massive step back, pulling me with him. The next second, the giant chandelier came crashing down. Glass shattered and flew everywhere. A sharp piece of crystal sliced right through the front of Tiffany’s dress. To everyone’s shock, a white foam pillow rolled out from her skirt. The room fell into a dead silence. Everyone stared at the wine-stained pillow on the floor. Carter forgot about his broken wrist, his face turning pale. The guests began to whisper, mock laughter spreading through the room. “So the pregnancy was fake? He was just bragging about a baby boy. This is hilarious.” “The Millers have completely embarrassed themselves. This isn’t an engagement, it’s a circus.” Carter kicked the foam pillow away, turning on Tiffany with roaring fury. “You lying bitch! You tricked me! You said you were carrying my baby! What the hell is this!” Tiffany pointed a trembling finger at us, trying to shift the blame. “Carter! It’s them! They brought their curse into this room! They ruined our luck!” “The moment that brat said ‘Empty,’ my stomach started hurting! She’s using black magic!” Carter’s bloodshot eyes locked onto us, his face twisted with pure hatred. “Yes! It’s you! You little jinx! Ever since you were born, my life has been hell!” “Security! Break that brat’s legs! I’ll make sure she never walks again!” Dozens of security guards carrying batons surrounded us. Holding his broken wrist, Carter barked orders frantically. “Beat them! I’ll pay for whatever happens! They are not leaving this building alive!” Mason shielded me behind him, adjusting his hold on Lily. “Close your eyes, Avery. Cover Lily’s eyes too. Don’t worry. Count to ten, and I’ll take you home.” I closed my eyes, and the sound of heavy thuds, groans, and bones snapping filled the air. “One, two, three…” When I opened my eyes at ten, the floor was covered with groaning security guards. Mason calmly patted the dust off his sleeves and held Lily close. Suddenly, a group of police officers burst into the hall. Carter’s expression changed instantly to one of victimhood. “Officer! Right here! This thug just assaulted my security team and ruined my party!” The lead officer frowned and pulled out handcuffs. Carter whispered something into the officer’s ear, and the officer’s expression hardened. “I’ve already had the security footage deleted,” Carter whispered to us with a smug grin. “No one can prove it was self-defense. Walk.” Just then, Mr. Sterling, the most powerful real estate tycoon in the state, walked into the lobby. Carter immediately rushed over to him. “Mr. Sterling! You’re just in time! These lowlifes are causing trouble on your property! They even beat up my guards!” Mr. Sterling walked right past Carter and bowed slightly to Mason. “I was just in the security room and happened to retrieve the backup hard drive,” Mr. Sterling said calmly, handing the drive to the police officer. “I wanted to see who dared to start trouble on my property.” “This video shows everything very clearly. Mr. Miller initiated the assault and ordered his men to break a child’s legs.” Carter’s smug smile froze. The police immediately shut down the venue. As we walked out of the hotel, we saw Carter crouching by the curb, answering a phone call. His face was ghostly pale. Lily looked back at Carter’s green silk tie. She pointed at the back of his head, then pointed at Tiffany, who was whispering to another man in the shadow of the parking lot. “Cheat.”

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My neighbor just had a baby, and her husband died shortly after. She always had watery, reddish eyes. She would sit at her doorstep holding her baby, complaining that her pipes were broken and that she was completely soaked. All the married men in the building would go into her apartment to help her for free. If any of their wives complained even a little, the men would scowl. “She lost her husband at such a young age. What’s wrong with helping her? Can’t you show some compassion?” With this exact trick, she managed to get three neighboring couples divorced. Last month, Ethan and I moved in. On our very first night, she knocked on our door. Wearing a loose robe, with red, teary eyes, she looked at my husband, looking absolutely pitiful. “Mr. Vance, the baby won’t stop crying, and my breast milk is severely clogged. It hurts so bad… can you please help me look at it?” Ethan didn’t say a word. He just turned to look at me. I stood up from the couch, picked up my professional lactation massage kit, and walked over with a sweet smile. “A clogged duct?” “What a coincidence. I happen to be a certified lactation consultant, and I absolutely love cleaning out ‘clogged’ trash.” 1 I slipped on my slippers, walked right past Ethan, and stood in front of Chloe Sterling. The motion-sensor light in the hallway was on, clearly illuminating her silk slip nightgown. The fabric was incredibly thin, and the neckline dipped extremely low. As a draft blew through the hallway, she intentionally shivered, leaning weakly against the doorframe. “Mrs. Vance, you’re still awake too.” She managed to squeeze out a weak smile, but her eyes kept drifting past my shoulder, staring straight at Ethan. “Actually, I was just about to sleep, but you woke me up.” I shook the lactation kit in my hand, making a crisp clinking sound. “Let’s go. Didn’t you need help with a clogged duct? Lead the way.” Chloe clearly didn’t expect me to step in myself. She froze, awkwardly crossing her hands over her chest. “Oh, I don’t want to trouble you, Mrs. Vance. This kind of thing is pretty awkward, and it might make another woman uncomfortable. Mr. Vance is strong and quick, he can probably get it resolved in no time…” “You think it’s appropriate for a man to massage your breasts?!” I pushed her apartment door wide open and walked straight inside without hesitation. “It’s much better for a woman like me to handle it.” Chloe’s apartment layout was identical to ours, but the interior style was completely different. The living room was filled with a strong, cloying perfume. A few pieces of lace lingerie were scattered on the couch, and two wine glasses sat on the coffee table. This didn’t look like the home of a struggling single mother who just had a baby. It looked like a love motel ready to welcome guests at any moment. “Where are we doing this?” I turned and asked her. Chloe dragged her feet as she walked in, pointing toward the bedroom. Her voice was barely a whisper. “It was hurting so badly just now, but I don’t know what happened… it feels a bit better now…” I walked up to her and zipped open my kit. My professional massage hands went to work immediately. I prepped the tools for a solid thirty seconds, letting the scent of the essential oil fill the air. “Mrs. Vance, your hands are too heavy. My son is sleeping in the bedroom.” Chloe covered her chest, took two steps back, a flash of annoyance in her eyes. “Just being thorough,” I said, putting my kit heavily back on the coffee table. I turned to look at her. “Otherwise, if it gets clogged again in the middle of the night, you’ll have to go knocking on someone else’s door.” Chloe’s expression shifted. She took a deep breath, putting on that tragic, helpless face again. “Mrs. Vance, is there some kind of misunderstanding between us? I really couldn’t handle it myself. It’s the middle of the night, and I don’t have a man to rely on…” “If you don’t have a man, you can hire a cleaning service, call the building manager, or call 911 if it’s a real emergency.” I cut her off, my eyes falling on the high-heeled, furry slippers on her feet. “But Chloe, it’s past 11 PM. Knocking on a married neighbor’s door in that outfit while holding a baby… that’s not a very good habit.” “You—” Before she could argue, I walked right past her toward the front door. Halfway there, I stopped, pointing at a pair of size 10 men’s leather shoes sitting by her shoe rack. “You bought the wrong size,” I said without turning back. “Ethan wears a size 9. If you’ve got your eyes on my husband, you should at least get his shoe size right.” The moment I slammed her door shut, I could clearly hear the sharp sound of her high-heeled slippers violently stomping the floor inside. When I got back home, Ethan was sitting on the couch researching some documents. Seeing me walk in, he immediately handed me a glass of warm water. “Handled?” he asked. “Just a homewrecking bitch trying her luck,” I said, taking a sip. “Watch your step when you leave for work. Don’t let her get close to you.” Ethan sneered, sliding his tablet over to me. “No need to wait for later. She’s already starting her drama right now.” I looked down. It was the neighborhood’s Snapchat group. Just a minute ago, Chloe had posted a message. 02 The message in the Snapchat group was dripping with victimhood. “Thank you to the new neighbor, Mrs. Vance, for coming over in the middle of the night to help me. Even though her massage was a bit too rough and my chest is still hurting, I’m really grateful. I think Mrs. Vance might have misunderstood me, though. She said some really hurtful things… It’s just so hard raising a baby alone. If I wasn’t desperate, I would never bother anyone. I’m so sorry for disturbing everyone’s rest.” Less than thirty seconds after she posted this, those lurking married men in the neighborhood jumped out like sharks smelling blood. Apartment 302, Marcus: “Chloe, don’t take it to heart. Young people these days are just hot-headed and lack empathy.” Apartment 501, Brad: “Exactly. We’re all neighbors. What’s wrong with helping out? She’s a single mother in pain. How could someone say such nasty things just because she knocked on a door?” Apartment 604, Kevin: “Chloe, next time you need help, just shout in the group. We’ll come over. You don’t need to take attitude from certain people.” Looking at this row of “righteous” comments, I was practically laughing from anger. They were basically calling me cold-hearted to my face. Ethan grabbed his phone, his fingers flying across the screen, ready to fire back. But I pressed my hand over his. “Don’t waste your breath.” “Arguing in the group chat is exactly what she wants. It’ll only make her look more like the ‘victim.’ Just wait. Tomorrow, I’ll make her dig her own grave.” The next day was the weekend. I got up early, changed into my workout gear, and went downstairs to jog in the community garden. As I approached the gazebo, I saw Chloe sitting on a bench. Today, she had changed into a floral sundress, her long hair draped over her shoulders. She was gently dabbing her eyes with a tissue. A few older women and two middle-aged men were gathered around her, talking heatedly with indignant expressions. I slowed my pace and walked over. “Morning, everyone,” I greeted them with a smile, sitting down in an empty spot nearby. The air instantly went dead silent. The men who had been talking loudly a second ago immediately averted their gaze, pretending to look at the sky and the trees. Chloe shrunk back slightly, acting terrified. “Morning, Mrs. Vance.” “Morning, Chloe.” I wiped my sweat, keeping my tone casual. “Is your chest feeling any better? I actually double-checked, and the technique I used is completely safe for nursing mothers. If it’s still hurting, you might want to see a doctor. It could be mastitis.” Chloe’s expression stiffened. “It’s fine. It felt much better when I woke up this morning. Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Vance.” “Of course,” I nodded, then turned to Marcus from Apartment 302, who had been the loudest critic online. “Marcus, I heard you’re always looking out for Chloe. Since she was in so much pain last night, why didn’t she knock on your door instead?” Marcus’s wife happened to be walking back from grocery shopping nearby. Hearing this, her face instantly darkened. Marcus stammered, “I—I was asleep!” “Oh, I see,” I said, pretending to realize something. “By the way, last night, I noticed a pair of size 10 men’s shoes in Chloe’s entryway. Did you lend them to her, Marcus?” “Well, it makes sense. A single mother needs a pair of men’s shoes by the door to keep intruders away.” The moment I said this, the eyes of several women nearby turned incredibly sharp. Chloe panicked and stood up abruptly. “Mrs. Vance! Watch your mouth! Those shoes belonged to my late husband. I couldn’t bear to throw them away, so I kept them as a keepsake. Is there a problem with that?” “Of course not.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and pulled up a photo. I had taken it on my way into her apartment last night. I zoomed in on the photo and thrust it right in front of her face. “But I heard your husband died in a car accident a year ago? This pair of Ferragamo men’s loafers is from their brand-new fall collection released just last month. And they happen to match the women’s slippers you’re wearing today. Buying both pairs together costs over twelve hundred dollars.” I watched her face turn completely pale as I said, word by word, “Wow, Chloe, you and your late husband must have a love that transcends death. He’s been gone for a year, yet you’re still buying matching couple’s shoes with him?” 03 There was a deathly silence. Everyone’s eyes locked onto my phone screen, and then they all slowly turned to look at Chloe’s feet. Chloe’s face went completely white. She tried to hide her feet, but there was nowhere to tuck them. The identical buckles. Without a doubt, they were matching couple’s shoes. The men who had just been defending Chloe now looked incredibly uncomfortable. In particular, Brad from Apartment 501 subconsciously tucked his feet backward. How convenient. Brad happened to wear a size 10. Brad’s wife, Tiffany, who was notorious for her explosive temper, slammed her grocery bag onto the ground. She pointed right at Brad’s nose and screamed, “Brad! You took twelve hundred dollars out of our joint account last month and said it was for your mother’s medicine! You spent it on shoes for this bitch?!” “Honey, let me explain! I didn’t buy those shoes!” Brad sweated profusely, trying to defend himself. “If you didn’t buy them, why are you hiding your feet? Matching shoes? I didn’t know you had such a romantic streak!” Tiffany didn’t give him a second to breathe. She lunged forward and slapped him across the face. The scene immediately descended into chaos. Chloe was completely caught off guard by this sudden turn of events. She tried to grab Tiffany’s hand. “Tiffany, please don’t misunderstand, it really wasn’t Brad…” “Get away from me! You husband-stealing whore!” Tiffany shoved her hard. Chloe fell onto the grass, clutching her ankle. Her eyes welled up, and fat tears started rolling down her cheeks. Before, this pitiful act would have had men rushing to help her up. But now, under the murderous glares of their own wives, not a single man dared to move. I watched the drama unfold coldly, said nothing more, and turned around to continue my jog. For the next few days, the building was exceptionally quiet. Chloe didn’t post a single thing in the group chat, and the male neighbors went completely silent. Every night, the sound of breaking plates echoed from Brad’s apartment. Marcus’s wife simply packed up, took the kids, and went to stay at her parents’ house out of state, showing no signs of coming back anytime soon. But I knew Chloe wouldn’t just take this lying down. A woman like her, who was used to wrapping men around her finger, couldn’t stand losing her reputation. What she hated most was losing control of the narrative. She was waiting for an opportunity. An opportunity to completely flip the script and crush me. On Wednesday night, Ethan was in the study hosting a video conference, while I was in the living room organizing a PR proposal for a client. Suddenly, a frantic knocking came from the door, accompanied by the crying voice of Chloe’s five-year-old son, Leo. “Ethan! Open the door! My mommy collapsed! Please help her!” I walked to the door and looked through the peephole. In the hallway, Leo was wearing thin pajamas, pounding on our door. Meanwhile, Chloe was lying on the floor a few feet away near the elevator, her face pale and her eyes tightly closed. Under normal circumstances, seeing a five-year-old child crying like this would make anyone open the door immediately. But I didn’t budge. Because I clearly saw that Chloe, who was supposedly unconscious on the floor, was clutching her phone tightly in her right hand—and the screen was still lit. Moreover, the spot she chose to collapse was highly strategic. It perfectly avoided the blind spot of the hallway’s security camera. Most importantly, although Leo was crying, his eyes kept darting back to Chloe, as if waiting for a cue. She was putting on a tragic show, and she was using her own kid to do it. “What’s going on out there?” Ethan heard the noise and came out of the study. I put my index finger to my lips, signaling him to be quiet, and then pointed at the peephole. Ethan took a look, his brows furrowing instantly. He pulled out his phone, preparing to call 91

“Don’t call yet,” I stopped him. “If you call 911 now, by the time the ambulance arrives, everyone in the building will think you ignored a dying neighbor at your doorstep.” “Then what do we do? Just let her lie out there?” Ethan whispered. I smirked, looking at the hidden pinhole camera we had installed right above our peephole. “Since she loves acting so much, let’s give her a bigger stage.” 04 The crying and screaming outside grew louder, and Leo’s voice was getting hoarse. The commotion finally drew out the other residents on our floor. Mrs. Gable, the busybody from across the hall, was the first to open her door. Seeing the scene, she gasped and rushed over to hug Leo. “Oh my god! What a tragedy! Chloe, Chloe, wake up!” Mrs. Gable patted Chloe’s face, then turned to slam her hand against our door, screaming, “Are the people inside dead?! Can’t you hear the child crying?! Get out here and help!” With Mrs. Gable’s screaming, neighbors from upstairs and downstairs started poking their heads out. Soon, a crowd gathered in front of our door. Most of them were nosy seniors, but a few of the male neighbors rushed over too. Looking at our tightly shut door, the crowd grew furious. “What is wrong with the new family? They are so heartless!” “Exactly! It’s one thing for her to be sharp-tongued normally, but this is a life-or-death situation, and they won’t even open the door!” “Ethan! Be a man and get out here! Hiding inside makes you a coward!” Someone in the crowd yelled, and immediately after, our door was kicked hard twice. Under the crowd’s shouting, Chloe finally “woke up.” She leaned weakly against Mrs. Gable, panting heavily, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t… don’t blame Ethan. It’s just my own poor health.” She spoke with a barely audible voice, but her eyes were fixed on our door. “I just heard that Ethan’s mother is a doctor, so I figured Ethan might know first aid. That’s why I had Leo knock. Maybe they aren’t home.” This was textbook manipulation. She managed to explain why she only knocked on our door, gave us an excuse to save face, and painted herself as a sweet, understanding victim. As expected, the crowd’s anger boiled over. “Not home? Bullshit! I was just walking downstairs. Their apartment has the brightest lights in the whole building!” “Break the door down! I want to see how they can look us in the eye!” Several agitated men began looking around for tools, looking ready to smash their way in. Ethan stood beside me, his face grim. He clenched his fists and said coldly, “This is getting out of hand. If they break the door, we’ll look guilty. Let me go out and set them straight.” “If you go out, you fall right into her trap,” I held him back, my eyes cold. Chloe wanted us to open the door. The moment we stepped out, no matter what we said, the angry mob would see it as a heartless excuse. The banging on our door grew louder, and the metal frame groaned under the pressure. Leo’s crying and the neighbors’ cursing woven together like a suffocating net, tightening around our space. “Let’s call the police,” Ethan said, his phone in hand. “No need,” I sneered as I looked at the footage on my phone, watching Chloe’s pale but secretly smug face. I opened my Snapchat, found the chat with the property manager, Manager Carter, and sent him the video captured by our pinhole camera, along with several documents I had spent all of yesterday digging up. “Let them smash it,” I pulled Ethan to sit back down on the couch, calmly pouring two glasses of water. “Just three more minutes. The real climax of this show is about to begin.”

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The year my boyfriend was dirt poor, he rejected a billionaire heiress just to stay with me. But I, desperate for a breakthrough in my career, accepted a role in a low-budget erotic thriller. On the day of the shoot, he showed up on set, crying and begging me not to go through with it. He said he would work himself to the bone to make money for us. But I pushed him away and had security throw him out. Later, the movie went viral. I became an overnight sensation, branded as a sexy starlet. And he married that billionaire heiress, climbing straight to the top of the world. Six years later, we met again on a superyacht. I was a washed-up, desperate actress begging for a role. And he was the owner of the yacht. My agent flashed a sycophantic smile and asked him, “Mr. Miller, have you ever seen Luna’s work?” He leaned back against the leather sofa, slowly swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Luna’s debut film? I’ve watched it. Frame by frame.” The ocean breeze swept across the deck, messing up my hair. I silently pressed down my hair and looked up at Ethan. Six years. The boyish charm was completely gone. In its place was a mature, powerful, and intimidating man. Every gesture of his screamed absolute authority. Beside me, my agent, Ashley, gasped in pleasant surprise. “Does that mean you’re a fan of our Luna, Mr. Miller?” Ethan set his glass down, his voice chillingly calm. “I only watched it because I was analyzing the film with my wife.” In that movie, I had a three-minute nude scene. Those three minutes had once made him want to die. Years ago, he had knelt on the dirty floor of the set, tugging at my jeans, his voice completely raw: “Baby, please don’t do this… I’ll make money. I’ll work myself to death to make money for us…” Now, he could calmly sit beside his wife, watching those exact scenes frame by frame. Ashley realized what he meant, but she kept the fake smile plastered on her face. “Of course, of course. I heard Chloe reviews every actor’s past work before casting them.” “You’re a busy man, Mr. Miller. If it weren’t for Chloe, you probably wouldn’t even know our Luna!” Before she could finish, Chloe slowly walked down from the yacht’s second deck. “Luna’s performance in her debut was brilliant. I actually studied her scenes four times.” Ethan took her hand, pulling her naturally into his lap. All his coldness vanished in an instant. His voice softened with a smile. “And after watching it, you kept me up for two hours talking about it.” She looked back at him with a playful glare. “Are you saying I talk too much?” “I wouldn’t dare.” Under the table, Ashley pinched my waist hard. I clenched my fists, forcing a smile onto my face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Chloe.” Before coming here, Ashley had told me that a rising director was preparing a new indie film. The script was top-tier, and the funding was massive. The director had specifically requested to meet me to discuss a role. For someone like me, who hadn’t gotten a decent script in years, this was a lifeline. But I never expected this director to be Ethan’s wife. After a brief conversation, I learned about the project. The movie was called The Captive Heart. It was a romance drama about a wealthy girl and a poor boy overcoming obstacles to be together. Chloe wanted me to play the supporting female lead—the antagonist. While she had plenty of lines, the role was physically brutal. She had underwater scenes, hanging scenes, and endless stunts. After hearing the pitch, I stood up. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take this role.” It wasn’t that I was afraid of hard work. I just didn’t want to play a pathetic character under her direction. Ashley kicked my foot violently under the table. Ethan wrapped his arm around Chloe’s waist and spoke in a casual, mocking tone. “You’re already here, Luna. It wouldn’t hurt to hear the offer before you walk out.” He raised his eyes to meet mine. “How much did you make for your debut movie?” Ashley answered for me immediately. “Thirty thousand dollars.” Ethan let out a sharp, mocking chuckle but said nothing. Chloe smiled warmly and spoke up. “We’ll pay you ten times that. Three hundred thousand.” “This movie is a fifth-anniversary wedding gift from my husband.” “He’s funding it, and I’m directing it. He doesn’t care about the budget. He just wants me to be happy.” She leaned against Ethan’s shoulder and smiled at me. “Luna, at this stage in your career, I don’t think anyone else will offer you this kind of money.” Three hundred thousand dollars. Why would they spend that much on a washed-up actress? But I didn’t ask. I was in no position to be picky. Ashley’s fingers dug into my wrist under the table, her nails biting into my flesh. I bit my lip and sat back down. “Fine. I’ll take it.”

After leaving the yacht, Ashley walked beside me, buzzing with excitement. “I heard that yacht is worth tens of millions. It was a birthday gift from Mr. Miller to his wife.” “Did you see the name painted on the stern? CHLOE. It’s her name.” “Mr. Miller is famously devoted to his wife.” I couldn’t help but remember when Ethan and I were together. He was so poor back then. I never had the heart to ask him for gifts. At that time, a popular romance show was airing, and the lipstick the lead actress wore was trending everywhere. It was a fifty-dollar designer lipstick at Sephora. I loved it, but I couldn’t afford it. Once, we passed by the beauty counter, and I dragged him in just to try it on. As we were leaving, I faintly heard the sales clerk whisper, “If you can’t afford it, don’t waste our testers.” In that instant, Ethan’s grip on my hand tightened. A week later, on my birthday, he pulled that exact lipstick out of his pocket and handed it to me. He had worked a brutal twelve-hour shift under the scorching sun at a construction site just to earn the money for it. But while working, his hand had been badly sliced by a rusted steel bar. The wound was deep. A proper clinic visit and stitches would have cost over a hundred dollars. He hid it from me, skipped the clinic, and used his wages to buy the lipstick instead. When I found out, I held his bloody hand and cried my eyes out. “Are you an idiot? I don’t want the lipstick! I don’t even like it!” Ethan had pulled me tightly into his arms and said, “It looks beautiful on you. I just want you to have the best things.” “One day, I’ll give you the world.” That day, I borrowed money from my best friend, Mia. I dragged him to a sketchy, under-the-table clinic to get stitches. To save money, he refused anesthesia. He grit his teeth, sweating profusely from the agonizing pain. But because we had missed the golden window for treatment, his right hand suffered permanent nerve damage. His thumb and index finger could never fully straighten again. Years later, every time I put on that lipstick, I would end up crying until my makeup was ruined. “Chloe is honestly so lucky!” Ashley’s sigh brought me back to reality. She continued, filled with envy, “She actually comes from a wealthy family herself.” “When Mr. Miller was still a nobody, she fought her family to marry him.” “Who would have thought he’d turn out to be a genius? In just a few years, his net worth surpassed her family’s. Even when her family’s business collapsed, she didn’t suffer at all because her husband protects her.” “Look at how he spoils her. Throwing millions at a movie just to let her play director!” “If we had her luck with men, we wouldn’t have to work this hard, would we?” I forced a faint smile but didn’t answer. When I was eighteen, I chose him at first sight. But in the end, I was the one who threw him away. After signing the contract, I spent days studying the script. Three months later, production began. My very first scene was an underwater shoot. We did over thirty takes, but Chloe was still unsatisfied. I was shivering in the freezing water while she stood warm on the deck, shouting through a megaphone: “Do you even know how to act? Stop wasting everyone’s time!” I wasn’t classically trained, but I had been acting for years. There was no way my performance was that bad after thirty takes. But she was the director. Her word was law. I could only apologize and do it again. Suddenly, a figure entered the set. Ethan, dressed in a tailored three-piece suit, stood behind the monitor. I was soaked to the bone, shivering in the freezing pool. He stood on the dry ground, looking down at me with cold, indifferent eyes. On the thirty-fifth take, Chloe yelled “Cut,” her brow still furrowed. I heard her turn to the assistant director. “One more time. The emotion is still lacking.” I took a deep breath, preparing to submerge myself back into the water. Then Ethan spoke. His voice was casual, just two words: “It’s wrap.” The entire set went dead silent. Chloe turned to him, looking annoyed. He took her hand and smiled warmly. “I brought you some afternoon tea. It’ll get cold if you don’t eat it now.” Her face immediately lit up with joy, and she waved her hand to dismiss the crew. I dragged myself out of the pool. Mia rushed over to wrap a thick towel around me. I was shaking violently, sneezing repeatedly. It was early spring, and the water was so cold it made my bones ache. Mia muttered under her breath, her voice laced with anger. “At least ten of those takes were perfectly usable. Thirty-five takes? That’s pure malice.” “She’s doing this on purpose. If Ethan hadn’t stopped her for tea, she would’ve kept you in there all day.” As she spoke, her eyes welled up with tears. “If we weren’t waiting to pay off your contract, we would never have taken this garbage movie!” “Why do we have to take abuse from this couple?” Mia wasn’t just my assistant; she was my best friend. Ever since my debut, she had been by my side. We had protected each other in this cutthroat industry for years. I knew she was hurting for me. I dried my hair and gave her a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. Different directors have different standards.” “Just bear with it a little longer. We’ll be free soon.”

After my debut movie became a hit, my agency locked me into a predatory ten-year contract. On the day of the signing, they gave me a massive cash advance. I was young and naive, thinking I could easily make the money back. I took every trash script they threw at me just to pay it off. For three years, I worked from 6:00 AM to midnight every single day. Eventually, the debt was cleared, but my reputation was ruined. I was labeled a “talentless sellout.” No good scripts came my way, yet I still had four years left on my contract. I was stuck, rotting away in that agency. Until one night, a high-ranking executive, Mr. Carter, tried to force himself on me in his car. When his hand slid up my thigh, I slapped him across the face, pushed the door open, and jumped out of the moving car. The next day, I demanded Ashley to negotiate my release. I played the secret audio recording I had taken in the car. She went pale and stayed silent for a long time. After consulting the big boss, she delivered the verdict: “Three more movies. All your earnings will go toward the contract termination fee. After that, you’re free.” I sat on a folding chair on set, sipping hot tea. I looked up and noticed the hand-crocheted shawl draped over Chloe’s shoulders. Another actress ran over to compliment it. Chloe adjusted the shawl, a tender smile on her face. “You can’t buy this in stores. My mother-in-law crocheted it for me by hand.” “Wow, made with love!” the actress squealed. “Chloe, your mother-in-law must adore you!” Chloe’s smile widened. “Yes, she treats me like her own daughter.” I stared at the shawl, and the hot tea in my hands suddenly tasted like ash. Many years ago, Ethan’s mother had loved me just as much. I remembered visiting his house when my period started unexpectedly, staining my white skirt red. I had stood in the living room, frozen in embarrassment. His mother hadn’t said a word. She immediately handed me one of her own clean skirts and a box of pads. She patted my hand gently. “Go change, sweetie. I’ll warm up some milk for you.” When I came out of the bathroom, Ethan watched me drink the milk, pinching my nose playfully. “Do you know what my mom’s warm milk means?” “She doesn’t make that for just anyone. She already sees you as her future daughter-in-law.” I stared at my teacup, my throat tightening as tears threatened to spill.

I changed into my costume and got my makeup touched up. As I stepped out of the dressing room, I ran straight into Ethan, who was coming out of the director’s lounge. I kept my head down, trying to brush past him. But as our shoulders crossed, his voice cut through the air. “I heard you’re trying to break your contract.” My footsteps halted. So, he had overheard us. “How much is the termination fee?” he asked. I remained silent. He looked at me with a mocking smirk, pressing further. “One million? Three million? Is five million enough?” I collected myself and looked him in the eye. “What is that supposed to mean, Mr. Miller?” He held a cigarette in his right hand, flicking his lighter with his left to spark a flame. I stared at his hands. He used to be right-handed. He only started using his left hand after that accident. He took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. “My mother has Alzheimer’s.” He paused. “Lately, she keeps mistaking my wife for you.” He said his mother would call Chloe by my name. She would ramble on about the things Ethan and I used to do, believing her son had married his high school sweetheart. She thought the daughter-in-law standing before her was the same young girl from years ago. His wife was deeply hurt by it, yet she had to play along to keep his mother calm. My heart ached, a bitter taste rising in my throat. No wonder the shawl was crocheted with mimosas—my favorite flower. His mother was sick. Her memory was frozen in time, six years ago. She had forgotten that Ethan and I had broken up a long time ago. Through the haze of smoke, Ethan spoke with chilling indifference. “My wife hasn’t been very happy lately.” “She wanted you in this movie so she could vent a little. Just play along and let her have her fun.” “Once she’s satisfied, I’ll personally pay off your termination fee.” So that was why Chloe had cast me. He was spending three hundred thousand dollars to use me as a punching bag to make his wife feel better. Those thirty-five takes in the freezing water weren’t because she was a perfectionist. It was pure, deliberate torment. I stood in silence for a long time. The cold wind slipped down my collar, making me shiver. I clenched my fists, then slowly let them go. “I understand.” “I hope you keep your word, Mr. Miller.” Even if I knew she was doing it on purpose, what could I do? The contract was signed. I had no right to say no. That night, I developed a high fever. After taking some medicine, I fell into a heavy, feverish sleep. In my dream, I was back in that rainy autumn afternoon. Ethan had rushed onto the movie set, his eyes bloodshot. “Luna,” he pleaded, his face pale and exhausted. “My mom wants to see you.” He reached out to grab my hand. “Please, just come back and see her once.” I pulled my hand away. He stood in the rain, water dripping from his hair down his face. “Don’t do this movie. Please don’t do it,” he begged, his voice cracking. “My mom… she’s dying. Come see her. She keeps calling your name—” “Ethan,” I interrupted, taking a deep breath. “Let’s break up.” I turned to walk away, but he fell to his knees, grabbing my legs. “Baby, don’t do it. Please don’t. I’ll make money… I’ll work myself to death for you…” I let out a cold laugh, prying his fingers off my legs one by one. “How much can you make working yourself to death? Why should I waste my life waiting for you?” “Ethan, a fifty-dollar lipstick cost you two of your fingers.” “Do you have any idea how many of your fingers my salary can buy now?” His face turned ghostly pale. The security guards approached, asking if I knew him. I looked at him with an emotionless face. “I don’t know him.” They dragged him away. That day, I never looked back.

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On Valentine’s night, my long-distance boyfriend, Chase, and I had a FaceTime sex date planned. I’d bought some super sexy lace lingerie just for tonight. But the second the video call connected, his lab partner, Amber, walked right into the camera frame. She gasped, fake-covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh my god, Chloe! Why are you dressed like that?” Blushing hard, I pulled my duvet up to my chin to cover myself. I glared at Chase through the screen. “Why is she in your room?” Before Chase could even open his mouth, Amber cut in. “Chase and I have a huge lab experiment to run tonight. We can only give you three minutes to chat.” Chase looked incredibly awkward. “Chloe, the national tech competition is coming up, and this experiment is critical to our project. I really have to go. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?” “But it’s Valentine’s Day,” I said, my voice cracking. “We planned this.” Amber rolled her eyes, practically snatching the phone from his hand. “Chloe, aren’t you just taking classes at a local community college? It’s fine if you don’t care about your own future, but stop holding Chase back from his.” And with that, Amber slammed the hang-up button. I let out a bitter laugh. Three years of long-distance. It was finally time to end this joke.

I exited FaceTime and tapped on my chat history with Chase on Snapchat. I scrolled up. It was just a graveyard of my one-sided messages. I had sent him photos of my new haircut. I had sent him a picture of a pretty cloud. I had sent him a funny video of a stray cat on a tree branch. His replies? Practically nonexistent. He’d send a dry “cool” hours later, or a thumbs-up emoji two days after my text. Sometimes, just a random sticker. I closed Snapchat and opened Instagram. Our cute couple photos? Deleted. Now, his feed was flooded with photos of him and Amber working late in the lab. In one photo, their hands were practically touching over a beaker. I locked my phone and stripped off the lingerie. Tonight was nothing but a humiliating slap in the face. A second later, a text popped up from Amber. “Chloe, I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’m just going to be honest with you. If you actually care about Chase, stop bothering him. He studies until 3 AM every night. Every time his phone buzzes, he loses focus and it takes him fifteen minutes to get back in the zone.” “The random spam you send him is honestly pointless. He doesn’t want to reply, but he feels too guilty not to, which wastes so much of his mental energy. Do you have any idea how draining that is for him?” “Also, as an independent modern woman, maybe stop sending him those cheap, thirst-trap photos. Is a woman’s only value her body to you?” I stared at the screen, every word cutting like a needle. She had gone through our private chats? Chase was a total privacy freak. He had never even let me touch his phone during our three years together. I typed back: “Does he know you’re texting me this?” Her reply was instant. “Of course. He said you keep sending him useless spam and he didn’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you directly. He asked me to handle it.” My throat felt tight, like I was choking on sand. Amber added one more text: “Oh, and he wanted me to tell you not to call during study hours. Just text. He’ll check it when he’s free, but don’t expect a reply. Be mature.” Driven by a masochistic urge, I tapped onto Amber’s Instagram profile. Her latest post from yesterday was at a cozy pizza place. Chase was sitting across from her, and she had snapped a photo of him eating a slice she had probably picked out for him. The caption read: “Weekend fuel with my favorite nerd.” I scrolled down. Last week, they went hiking, posing with peace signs at the summit. Before that, it was a coffee shop date, late-night library study sessions, and a new dessert spot. He was in every single photo. The same Chase who always told me he was “too busy.” It turned out he wasn’t busy. He just reserved his time for someone else. Tonight, I was supposed to tell him some life-changing news. I had just been accepted into the prestigious Master’s program at Columbia University—the very same campus he went to. I was finally moving to New York. We weren’t going to be long-distance anymore. But now, those words were stuck in my throat, turning into a dull, heavy ache. I opened Chase’s Snapchat and sent him one last message: “Let’s break up.”

The next day, I woke up and unlocked my phone. Inside our Snapchat chat, my text “Let’s break up” sat at the very bottom. Read. No reply. Just like almost every message I had sent him over the last four years, it had sunk to the bottom of the ocean. I stared at the screen and let out a dry laugh. He was so checked out of this relationship that he couldn’t even bother to reply to a breakup text. Before I could lock my screen, a notification popped up in our university’s club WhatsApp group. It was the roster for the upcoming regional college basketball tournament. My eyes instantly caught Chase’s name. And right next to it, listed as the team manager, was Amber. My roommate leaned over my shoulder, taking a look. She shook her head. “Man, those two are practically the power couple of Columbia’s bio department. They live in the library together. Even the professors say they’re a perfect match.” She pulled up a screenshot of Amber’s VSCO. “Look at them. One is top of the class, the other is second. They literally share everything.” I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and forced a nod. “Yeah, they look great.” But my fingernails dug deep into my palms. From that day on, I went out of my way to avoid the science building, the campus gym, and any route where I might run into him. But of course, fate is cruel. I bumped right into him outside the advisor’s office. Chase looked a bit thinner. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he was holding a stack of syllabus folders. When he saw me, he froze for a second, then forced a polite smile. “Chloe? Hey. It’s been a while. Want to grab some lunch?” I wanted to say no, but a four-year relationship deserved a proper, face-to-face ending. So, I nodded. “Sure.” Before I could even step forward, Amber stepped out from behind the door, naturally sliding right next to Chase. She smiled warmly at me. “Oh, Chloe! What a coincidence. We should all eat together.” She tilted her head toward Chase. “Did you pick a place?” Chase shook his head. Amber immediately turned to me. “Why don’t you choose, Chloe? It’s rare for us to hang out.” “How about that French cuisine place down the street?” I suggested casually. Amber gasped softly. “Oh, his stomach has been so sensitive lately. The doctor literally put him on a bland diet. Didn’t you know that, Chloe?” I pressed my lips together. “Okay. What about the organic vegan bistro?” Amber shook her head again. “Too much oil in their dressings. He had terrible acid reflux the last time we went there.” She paused, letting out a soft, pitying chuckle. “Chloe, how do you not know his dietary restrictions by now?” I suggested four or five more places, and every single time, Amber shut me down with some intimate detail about Chase’s daily routine. Too far, too noisy, too dirty, too long of a wait. Finally, she sighed, looking like she was making a grand sacrifice. “Fine, fine. Let me choose. You two are hopeless.” Chase looked down at her and laughed softly. “Thanks, Amber.” Amber playfully nudged his shoulder. “I’m literally carrying this friendship on my back. You owe me big time for this.” As they bantered back and forth, I stood there like an invisible third wheel. Watching Chase look at Amber with that warm, easy smile made my chest tighten so hard I could barely breathe. Four years of long-distance. I thought we were just separated by miles. But the truth was, the distance was so wide I didn’t even fit into his life anymore. The words “Let’s break up” felt heavy in my mouth. But seeing them like this, I realized I didn’t even need to say it out loud. It didn’t matter. When the menus arrived, Amber took charge. She pointed to an avocado salad, reminding Chase that he was on a low-sodium phase. Then she ordered a bowl of chicken noodle soup, smiling at him. “You said you liked their broth last time. See? I remembered.” Chase nodded, totally natural. “Do you want to add an order of those fish tacos you love?” Sitting across from them, I felt like a stranger who had accidentally sat at the wrong table. Amber suddenly slid the menu to me. “Chloe, go ahead and order whatever you want.” Before I could speak, Chase cut in. “She doesn’t really like spicy stuff. Let’s get her the…” He stopped. His finger hovered over the menu, his eyebrows knitting together. After a long pause, he pointed to two random dishes. “Let’s just get these.” I looked down. Fried chicken tenders. A wave of nausea and sadness hit me. I was severely allergic to poultry. I hadn’t eaten chicken in my entire life. He had completely forgotten. Amber tapped the back of Chase’s head with her menu, teasing him. “Are you studying too hard or what? I’m the one who loves chicken tenders, stupid!” Chase blinked, looking flustered. He avoided my eyes and pushed the menu closer to me. “Just… order whatever you want.” I shook my head and stood up, grabbing my bag. “No, it’s fine. I actually have a project to finish. I should go.” I looked down at him one last time. “Check your Snapchat messages when you have a second.” He shrugged dismissively. “Amber filters my messages for me. She’ll let me know if there’s anything urgent.” I let out a tiny, hollow laugh. So I wasn’t even “urgent” enough to bypass his assistant. There was no point in waiting for a reply. I turned and pushed open the restaurant door. The cool New York breeze hit my face, and for the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe.

The next day was the campus basketball game. My roommate had dragged me along to support her younger brother, Jace. Jace was a freshman, and this was his first big game. He was so nervous his hands were shaking. I bought a pack of Gatorade and water bottles, setting up a little cheering station by the bench. The buzzer sounded, and I looked up. I immediately saw Chase driving the ball down the court. Amber was standing right by the sideline, holding a towel and a bottle of water. Every time Chase made a shot, she cheered and jumped. During timeouts, she’d immediately hand him his water and wipe his sweat. They looked like a seamless unit. Some girls standing near me whispered, “They are so cute together.” “Chase is playing like a beast today. Amber’s definitely his lucky charm.” I forced a flat smile and turned my attention back to Jace. At the end of the third quarter, Chase walked over to the bench. Amber immediately draped a towel over his neck. I bent down to organize the water bottles, but in my peripheral vision, I saw Chase walking toward me. He glanced at the row of Gatorades at my feet and frowned. “Amber already got me drinks. You don’t need to do this.” He paused, his tone turning lecture-like. “Honestly, Chloe, you should spend less time hanging around gym courts and more time studying.” I gripped the plastic bottle in my hand, staying silent. “Look at Amber,” Chase continued, his voice self-righteous. “She’s top of her class, winning research grants, and she still manages her time perfectly. You could really learn a thing or two from her.” A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. I looked up, staring straight into his eyes. “Whether I study or not is none of your business, Chase.” He froze, his jaw tightening. “Chloe, what is your attitude lately? I swear, ever since you started community college, you’ve lost all ambition. If your mindset stays like this, how are we supposed to have a future—” “A future?” I interrupted, my eyes stinging. “We don’t have a future.” He opened his mouth to speak but went silent. He bent down, reaching for one of the Gatorades near my feet. But before his hand could touch the bottle, another hand snatched it away. Jace cracked the cap open, took a massive gulp, and grinned down at me. “Thanks, Chloe. This is exactly what I needed.” Jace then stepped forward, his tall, athletic frame completely blocking Chase from my view. Chase’s hand hovered in the air for a second before he dropped it awkwardly. He glared at Jace, then looked back at me, his eyes dark with irritation. Amber wandered over, looking between us with a fake-innocent smile. “Oh, Chloe, did you come here just to see Jace? No wonder you brought so many drinks.” She tilted her head. “I was wondering why you didn’t even look at Chase once during the whole game.” Before I could respond, Chase’s face went cold. I looked at Amber and smiled thinly. “Amber, you’re so obsessed with watching me, people might think you’re the one trying to get with Jace.” “Chloe!” Chase snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “What the hell is wrong with you? Amber has done nothing but try to help you, and this is how you treat her? Stop being so toxic.” Before I could even defend myself, he stepped closer, his voice rising with frustration. “Every time I had a rough semester, who was there for me? Amber. When I was pulling all-nighters and about to crash, who stayed up with me? Amber. When I had a fever and had to go to the clinic, who stayed by my side all night?” His eyes actually looked red, his voice shaking. “You ask me why I don’t reply to your texts? Think about it, Chloe. Where were you when I actually needed you?” The bench went completely quiet. A few players glanced over at us. Amber grabbed his sleeve, looking like she was trying to calm him down, but the smug look in her eyes gave her away. At that moment, the thin thread holding my heart together for the past four years finally snapped.

“Where was I?” My voice was quiet, but it cut through the noise of the gym. “Chase, freshman year, before finals, you had a fever. I called you eleven times. You didn’t answer a single one. The next day, you told me your phone was on silent, and I believed you.” “Sophomore year, during the winter, my boss at my part-time job stiffed me on my paycheck. I was crying on the curb and sent you a voice note saying how scared and sad I was. You replied two days later with a stupid hug emoji.” “Last month, on my birthday, I stayed up until 2 AM waiting for a text. You didn’t even say ‘Happy Birthday.’ The next day, you told me you forgot and that I was being too sensitive.” I stared at him, tears finally spilling over my lashes. “You say I wasn’t there when you needed me? Did you ever give me a chance to be? Every time you ‘needed’ someone, Amber was already standing there. Where was I supposed to stand, Chase?” Chase’s mouth opened, his lips trembling, but no words came out. Amber let go of his sleeve and whispered, “Chase, let’s just go… Chloe’s obviously in a bad mood.” I turned to walk away. But suddenly, a loud shout echoed through the gym. “Watch out!” In my peripheral vision, a heavy orange shadow came flying toward me at high speed. I tried to dodge, but it was too fast. Thwack! Before the ball even hit me, I saw Chase reflexively throw his body over Amber, shielding her head and shoulders with his back. The ball hadn’t even been heading toward her. As I stumbled backward and hit the hardwood floor, a sharp, blinding pain shot through my skull, but my chest felt incredibly light. Amber screamed, “Chase, the ball hit Chloe!” Chase finally turned around, his face completely pale. Jace rushed over, scooping me up in his arms before Chase could even take a step. “I’m taking her to the campus clinic,” Jace growled, running past him. I closed my eyes. My head throbbed with agony, but the heavy stone that had been crushing my chest for three years was finally gone. In the clinic, Chase let out a sigh of relief. “The doctor said it’s just a mild concussion. Nothing major.” I didn’t say anything, staring at the ceiling. He pulled up a plastic chair and sat down. “The game just ended, and I have to catch the last train back to my campus. Get some rest. I’ll come see you next time.” He paused, his voice softening. “About what happened on the court… don’t overthink it. It was just an instinct. You look like you’ve lost weight, Chloe. Make sure you eat. Text me if you need anything. I… I promise I’ll reply.” If this were a few months ago, those few soft words would have been enough to make me swallow all my tears and wait for his next “promise.” But now, they sounded completely empty. Like dust landing on water—not even leaving a ripple. I nodded blankly. “Okay.” He waited, expecting me to say more. When I didn’t, he stood up slowly, walking toward the door. At the threshold, he looked back at me, hesitating, as if waiting for me to beg him to stay. “Go back and read the messages I sent you,” I said quietly. He nodded. “Okay. I will.” The next day, my phone remained completely silent. He had promised to read the messages, but still, no reply. I opened Snapchat, held down his name, and tapped Delete Friend. Then, I packed a bag and bought a one-way train ticket to a quiet beach town.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441100”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

At our engagement gala, Liam’s assistant burst into the hall, screaming, “Summer has been kidnapped.” Liam immediately let go of my hand, leaving a hall full of high-society guests behind as he bolted toward the exit. I blocked his way. “Today is our engagement. Are you really going to abandon me for your mistress?” His eyes were bloodshot as he shoved me aside. “She is dying. Can you stop being so damn selfish for once?” I let go of him and smiled. “Liam, if you walk out of that door today, I will never wait for you again.” He hesitated for a single second, then rushed out without looking back. The crowd erupted into whispers. I turned around, picked up the microphone, and looked at the man standing in the dark corner of the hall. “Ethan Hudson.” The entire room went dead silent. Ethan, the man I had abandoned at the altar three years ago, stepped out of the shadows. His gaze was as cold as a knife. I extended my hand to him. “Let’s change the groom for this gala. Do you dare?”

Chloe’s POV The smell of disinfectant was overwhelming. During the stitches, I didn’t let the doctor use anesthesia. The needle pierced my skin, pulling the thread through. It hurt, but I didn’t even flinch. The young ER doctor kept glancing at me as if I were a monster who couldn’t feel pain. “The cut is deep. It almost nicked the nerve.” The doctor cut the thread, his voice laced with suspicion. “How did this happen?” “I was carving something, and the knife slipped,” I replied flatly. I wasn’t lying. To prepare a wedding gift for Liam, I had hand-carved a pair of obsidian cufflinks. The stone was too hard. The carving knife slipped and went straight through my left hand. Blood had splattered everywhere. After bandaging the wound, I used my uninjured right hand to pull out my phone. The screen lit up. No missed calls, no messages. Liam had been completely unreachable for three whole days. Our wedding was less than a month away. I stood up, preparing to pay the bill. A TV mounted on the ER wall was broadcasting the local news. “Today’s torrential rain has caused severe flooding across several areas of New York…” The screen flashed to a live reporter on site. My steps froze. In the pouring rain on the screen, a man in a black suit held a massive black umbrella, shielding a petite woman tightly in his arms. The rain soaked half of his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to care. He looked down at the woman in his arms. His gaze held a level of intensity and tenderness that I, after knowing him for seven years and loving him for three, had never once seen. That was Liam. The heir to the Hudson Group, proud, arrogant, and cold. And the woman in his arms was someone I knew too. Summer Evans. A well-known digital reporter. She had built a massive online following on Twitter and TikTok with her “never tells a lie” persona. On screen, Summer was soaked, still clutching her camera. Her voice trembled, yet she sounded defiant. “Mr. Hudson, I was just doing my job. I don’t need your pity.” Liam let out a low chuckle. That laugh echoed through the TV speaker, stabbing right into my ears. “I don’t pity you,” Liam’s voice was deep and commanding. “I care about you.” The people watching TV in the lobby gasped. “Who is that guy? He’s so hot!” “That’s the CEO of Hudson Group! Oh my god, a billionaire and a reporter! So romantic!” I stood there, staring at the screen. The wound on my left hand suddenly throbbed violently. It hurt so much my fingertips went numb. I pulled out my phone and dialed Liam’s number. It rang for a long time, but no one answered. I hung up and tried again. This time, the call was instantly declined. A second later, a text message popped up on SnapChat. Liam: I’m busy. Stop annoying me. I stared at the words and curled my lips. Busy. Busy holding an umbrella for another woman in the pouring rain. I didn’t reply. I turned and walked out of the hospital. It was still raining. I didn’t use an umbrella. I just got straight into my car. I placed the box containing the cufflinks on the passenger seat and started the engine. Half an hour later, the car pulled up in front of a private lounge in Manhattan. This was Liam’s usual hangout spot. I pushed the door open and walked straight inside. The bouncers at the VIP entrance paled when they saw me, quickly stepping forward to block my path. “Miss Vance, what are you doing here?” “Move,” my voice was quiet but dripping with ice. “Mr. Hudson gave strict orders. He doesn’t want to be disturbed today…” Sweat beaded on the bouncer’s forehead. I ignored him, shoved past his arm, and walked down the hallway to the private suite. Bang! I kicked the door open. The laughter inside stopped instantly. On the couch, Liam was gently drying Summer’s wet hair with a towel. Summer shrunk into his chest like a frightened little deer. Several of Liam’s wealthy friends sat around them, wearing smirks on their faces. Seeing me, everyone froze. Liam’s hand paused, his brow instantly furrowing. “What are you doing here?” His tone was filled with utter impatience. I walked over. I was soaked. Rain dripped from my hair, and my face was pale. But my spine was perfectly straight. “I came to deliver something.” I handed him the box. Liam didn’t reach for it. He glanced at my bandaged, bleeding left hand. His eyes didn’t show a single flicker of concern. “What could be so urgent that you had to bring it here now?” “A wedding gift,” I said, looking into his eyes. “I made it myself.” The room fell into a dead silence. Summer peeked out from Liam’s arms, staring at me. “Miss Vance, please don’t misunderstand. I got caught in the storm during an interview, and my gear broke. Mr. Hudson was just passing by and helped me out…” “I didn’t ask you,” I cut her off, my eyes locked on Liam. “Take it.” “Just leave it on the table,” Liam said coldly. I didn’t move. My hand remained suspended in the air. Summer bit her lip and reached out. “Miss Vance, let me help you put it…” The moment her hand brushed the box, Liam suddenly lashed out, slapping the box away. Clatter. The box hit the floor, bursting open. Two cufflinks rolled out. On the pure black stone, my dried blood was still visible. “Don’t touch it,” Liam pulled Summer behind him, glaring at me coldly. “Who knows if that thing is even clean.” I stared at the cufflinks on the floor. I had pulled three consecutive all-nighters, carving them millimeter by millimeter. Every cut held my hope for our upcoming marriage. Now, they lay at someone else’s feet like trash.

Chloe’s POV “Liam,” my voice was barely a whisper. “We are getting married next month.” “So what?” Liam sneered. “It’s just a piece of paper. Do you really think of yourself as Mrs. Hudson already?” He stood up, looking down at me. “Chloe, you are so boring. You’re like a programmed machine. You never make mistakes, but you never surprise me either.” He pointed to Summer behind him. “Summer is different. She is real, she is alive, and she never lies. With her, I actually feel like a living human being.” I looked at him. For a long, long time. “Are you done staring? If you’re done, get out.” Liam turned around and stepped directly on one of the cufflinks. Crack. The sound of stone shattering. My heart shattered completely along with that sharp noise. I didn’t cry. I didn’t throw a tantrum. I simply bent down, using my uninjured right hand to pick up the broken pieces one by one, squeezing them in my palm. The sharp shards sliced into my skin. But I felt no pain. “Sorry to bother you.” I stood up and walked out of the suite. The moment the door closed, I heard Summer’s soft voice from inside. “Liam, treating Chloe like that… won’t she be really sad?” “Why care about her? A woman like her doesn’t have a heart.” I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath. When I opened them again, there was nothing left but icy silence. Liam, you’re right. I don’t have a heart anymore. The next day. I went to work as usual. I am the CEO of the Vance Group. Though the Vance family isn’t as massive as the Hudson conglomerate, we are still a highly respected prominent family in New York. However, over the last few years, our cash flow had run into issues, and we had been relying on joint projects with the Hudson Group to stay afloat. That was why everyone in our social circle said I was marrying up. At 10:00 AM. My office door was pushed open. Liam walked in. He was wearing a tailored suit, his hair perfectly styled. He looked nothing like the man from the bar last night. He walked straight over to the couch, sat down, and crossed his legs like he owned the place. “Is there something you need?” I didn’t even look up from my documents. Liam frowned. “Summer’s media channel is doing a special feature on prominent New York entrepreneurs,” Liam got straight to the point. “She needs a high-profile interview subject.” My hand pausing on the page. “And?” “You will accept her interview,” Liam said, his tone commanding. I raised my head and looked at him. I looked at him as if he were a complete stranger. “Liam, have you lost your mind?” Liam’s face darkened. “Chloe, watch your mouth.” “Watch my mouth?” I let out a cold laugh. “You want me to do an interview with your mistress just to help boost her career? What do you take me for?” “She is not a mistress! Stop using such disgusting words!” Liam stood up abruptly. “Summer is a professional reporter! She just needs an opportunity to prove herself!” “If she wants to prove herself, why does she have to step on me to do it?” “Chloe, stop throwing a tantrum.” Liam walked over to my desk, leaning over to stare down at me. “You must do this interview.” I leaned back in my chair, meeting his gaze without flinching. “And if I refuse?” Liam narrowed his eyes, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. “The Vance Group is currently developing the Brooklyn Waterfront Project, right? You still have a three-hundred-million-dollar funding gap. If the Hudson Group pulls its investment right now…” My face paled instantly. The Brooklyn Waterfront Project was my father’s lifelong dream. If the funding cut, the Vance Group would go bankrupt. Liam knew exactly where my weakness lay. He was using my father’s dream to blackmail me into pleasing another woman. Looking at this man, I felt utterly disgusted. “Liam, you are despicable.” “Say whatever you want.” Liam stood up and straightened his suit jacket. “Summer will bring her team here at two this afternoon. You better cooperate.” With that, he turned and walked out. The door clicked shut. I sat in my chair, my body freezing cold. The wound on my left hand began to throb again. I opened my drawer, pulled out a bottle of painkillers, and swallowed two pills dry.

Chloe’s POV At 2:00 PM. Summer arrived at my office right on time with her camera crew. She was wearing a sleek professional blazer today, with flawless makeup. She looked both innocent and professional. Liam was right behind her. “Miss Vance, sorry to disturb you,” Summer smiled sweetly. I ignored her, pointing to the seat opposite me. “Let’s begin.” The cameras were set up. The red recording light turned on. The smile on Summer’s face vanished, replaced by a sharp, professional mask. “Miss Vance, rumors say that the Vance Group’s recent growth relies heavily on the support of the Hudson Group. Is this true?” The very first question was a direct attack. I remained calm. “The Vance Group and the Hudson Group share a standard, mutually beneficial business partnership.” “Is that so?” Summer flipped through her tablet. “But according to my sources, over sixty percent of your profits over the past three years came from projects outsourced by the Hudson Group. Doesn’t that count as dependency?” I frowned slightly. This data was a trade secret. How could a digital reporter like Summer access it? I instinctively looked at Liam, who was standing behind the camera. Liam avoided my eyes. I understood. Liam had handed her my company’s financial data just so she could humiliate me. “Miss Evans, I don’t care where you got your fabricated data,” my voice grew cold. “If you only came here today to audit my company’s finances, this interview is over.” “Please don’t be angry, Miss Vance. I am just seeking the truth.” Summer blinked innocently, throwing an even sharper question. “Since the Vance Group is so dependent on the Hudsons, rumors say you used underhanded tactics to force Mr. Hudson into this marriage. How do you respond to that?” The air in the office froze instantly. Even the cameraman gasped. This wasn’t an interview. This was a public execution. My fingers clenched tightly. My nails dug into my palms. The pain kept me focused. Looking at Summer’s smug, provocative face, I suddenly smiled. “Miss Evans, you claim you never lie. Do you dare to look into that camera and say you have absolutely no personal motive behind these questions today?” Summer’s face stiffened. “I… of course I don’t! I am just asking on behalf of the public!” “The public isn’t that interested in my private life.” I stood up, looking down at her. “The only people interested are those hiding in the shadows, desperately plotting to steal the title of Mrs. Hudson.” “You!” Summer’s eyes welled with tears instantly. “Chloe!” Liam strode over, pulling Summer behind his back. He glared at me, looking like he wanted to tear me apart. “Have you lost your mind? Summer is just doing a standard interview!” “A standard interview?” I pointed at the camera. “A standard interview asks if I forced you into marriage? Liam, do you dare deny that you authorized these questions?” Exposed, Liam’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “So what if I did? Did she say anything wrong? If your grandfather hadn’t used his deathbed wish to force my grandfather into this arrangement, do you think I would ever marry you?” Those words felt like a dagger driving straight into my heart. I looked at Liam. For three years. For his sake, I had swallowed my pride and learned how to be the perfect fiancée. I thought even a cold stone could be warmed up. But a stone is just a stone. “Fine,” I nodded, my voice incredibly calm. “Since you feel so victimized, we don’t have to get married.” Liam froze. He obviously didn’t expect me to say that. After all, in his eyes, I loved him so desperately that I had no dignity left. How could I ever call off the wedding? “Don’t try to threaten me with calling off the wedding,” Liam sneered. “Do you think I’m scared?” “I am not threatening you.” I sat back down and pressed the intercom on my desk. “Security, escort these intruders out.” “Chloe, how dare you!” “Watch me.” I looked up, my eyes as cold as ice. “Liam, take your woman and get the hell out of my company.”

Chloe’s POV The interview video was released anyway. Summer’s team was highly skilled at editing. They cut out all of my counterattacks, leaving only Summer’s sharp questions and my silent, tense expressions. The video was posted with a highly provocative title: The Truth Behind the Billionaire Alliance: Love, or a Financial Trap? Once published, it immediately went viral on Twitter and TikTok. Summer’s fans shared it like crazy, dragging my name through the mud. “So she did force him into marriage! How shameless!” “No wonder Mr. Hudson doesn’t love her. Who would want a gold-digger who blackmails her way into a family?” “I feel so bad for Summer. She got bullied by this evil CEO just for exposing the truth!” “Liam and Summer are the real soulmates! Boycott the forced marriage!” I sat in my dark apartment, watching the vicious comments stream down my phone screen. My expression remained blank. It felt like I was reading a story about someone else. On the coffee table lay a stack of wedding invitations. Our names, “Liam Hudson” and “Chloe Vance,” were printed side-by-side. It looked like a massive joke now. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Liam. Liam: Don’t worry about the video. Summer needs the publicity right now. Once the hype dies down, I’ll have PR handle it. Looking at the text, I found it laughably absurd. He had pushed me off a cliff, letting the entire internet tear me apart, just to generate traffic for his mistress. And then he casually dismissed it with “don’t worry.” I didn’t reply. I tossed my phone aside, stood up, and walked into my study. Inside the safe lay a dusty wooden box. I opened it to find an old, discontinued phone model. I plugged in the charger and powered it on. The lock screen lit up, showing a blurry photo of a man’s back. He was wearing a black trench coat, his posture tall and imposing, radiating a dangerous, untouchable coldness. Ethan Hudson. The true, formidable heir of the Hudson family, and Liam’s older half-brother. He was also… my former fiancé. Three years ago. On the eve of my wedding to Ethan. Liam had knelt outside the Vance mansion in a torrential storm for an entire day and night. He had grabbed my hand, his eyes red as he begged me, “Chloe, don’t marry him. I love you. Run away with me.” Back then, I was blinded by Liam’s dramatic display of affection. In a moment of madness, I made the most reckless decision of my life. I ran away from my own wedding. I abandoned Ethan, the ruthless, terrifying man everyone feared, and ran away with Liam. The Hudson family was furious. Ethan became the laughingstock of New York high society. Yet, he didn’t unleash his wrath. He didn’t send men to hunt me down. He simply stood at the wedding venue, calmly announced the cancellation, and boarded a flight out of the country that very day. It had been three years. Ethan had never returned. And I had paid a devastating price for my impulsive mistake. I thought I was running toward love. Instead, I had leaped straight into an abyss. I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling as I dialed the number I hadn’t touched in three years. The line rang for a long time. So long that I feared he had changed his number. Just as I was about to hang up, the call connected. There was no greeting. Only the sound of faint breathing and the sharp click of a lighter. I gripped the phone, my knuckles turning white. “…Ethan,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. The other end remained silent for two seconds. Then, a deep, magnetic, and freezing voice cut through the line. “Chloe Vance.” Just hearing him speak my name made my chest tighten with a suffocating pressure. “It’s me,” I said, closing my eyes. “Is there a reason you’re calling?” Ethan’s voice was completely flat, as if he were talking to a stranger. “How… how have you been?” I didn’t know how to start. “If you called just to make small talk, you can hang up.” “Wait!” I blurted out. I bit my lip, making up my mind. “Ethan, do you want to make a bet with me?” A faint, mocking chuckle came from the other end. “What makes you think I would ever play games with you again?” “Because you didn’t destroy me three years ago,” my voice steadied. “Ethan, I know you hate me. I am giving you a chance to get your revenge.” “Speak.” “Next month on the eighth, it’s my wedding with Liam.” I paused. “If he abandons me at the altar, I will marry you right then and there.” The air seemed to freeze. Even across half the globe, I could feel the terrifying chill radiating from Ethan. “Chloe, what do you think I am?” Ethan’s voice dropped low, laced with dangerous anger. “A trash bin for my brother’s leftovers?” “No,” I opened my eyes, my gaze resolute. “I am treating you as my only way out.” The line fell silent again. Only the rhythmic click, click of his lighter echoed in the quiet night. Every flick of the flame seemed to beat against my heart. After what felt like an eternity. Ethan finally spoke. “And if he doesn’t abandon you?” “Then I will transfer thirty percent of the Vance Group’s shares to you, free of charge,” I said without hesitation. “Chloe, you are out of your mind.” “Do you dare to bet?” “Fine,” Ethan’s voice held a trace of ruthless amusement. “I’ll be there on the eighth. Chloe, this is your last chance. If you dare to play me again…” “I won’t,” I interrupted. “Ethan, I’ll be waiting.” I hung up. My strength evaporated, and I slid down onto the cold floor. My back was drenched in sweat. I knew I was playing with fire. Ethan was a sleeping beast. Once provoked, he would tear me apart without leaving even a bone behind. But I didn’t care anymore. If Liam wanted to drag my dignity through the mud. Then I would flip the table and make sure everyone burned with me.

Chloe’s POV With one week left until the wedding. Liam seemed to have completely forgotten our past arguments. He began showing up constantly, playing the role of a doting groom. It was as if the online hate and Summer’s provocations were just a figment of my imagination. At a high-end bridal boutique downtown. I sat on the couch, watching the clock on the wall. 3:00 PM. Liam was already a full hour late. The consultant carefully served a cup of coffee. “Miss Vance, would you like to try on the dress first? Mr. Hudson might be stuck in traffic.” “No, I’ll wait,” I said calmly. At 3:30 PM. The bell at the entrance finally chimed. Liam rushed in, bringing in the cold draft from outside. Along with a faint scent of citrus perfume. That was Summer’s favorite scent. “Sorry, an urgent meeting came up at the office,” Liam walked over, leaning down to kiss my forehead. I tilted my head, avoiding him. Liam’s hand froze in mid-air. A flash of annoyance crossed his eyes, but he quickly masked it. “Still mad? I’ll take you to that French place you love tonight to make it up to you, okay?” “No need. Let’s just try the dress.” I stood up and followed the consultant into the fitting room. When I stepped out wearing the custom gown designed by a top French designer, Liam gasped. The pure white skirt was encrusted with tiny diamonds, shimmering under the boutique lights. The gown accentuated my collarbones and slender neck, making me look like an untouchable, regal queen. “Beautiful,” Liam stepped forward, genuine admiration in his eyes. He reached out, wanting to wrap his hand around my waist. Right then. A loud ringtone broke the silence. It was Liam’s phone. The custom ringtone he had set exclusively for Summer. Liam’s movement froze. He looked at me, then at the phone in his pocket. “Answer it,” I said, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My voice didn’t hold a single drop of emotion. Liam pulled out his phone and stepped aside to answer. “Summer, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t hear the other side, but Liam’s face instantly paled. “Don’t cry! I’m coming right now! Stay where you are and don’t move!” He hung up and turned to me, his face frantic. “Chloe, Summer is trapped at an interview site by some aggressive men. I have to go.” I looked at him. “We are fitting my wedding dress.” “The dress fits perfectly, no adjustments needed,” Liam said impatiently, tugging at his tie. “Summer is in danger. She can’t handle this alone.” “Liam,” I turned around, looking straight into his eyes. “If you walk out of this door today, I will never wear this dress again.” Liam frowned, clearly thinking I was just throwing a childish tantrum. “Chloe, can you be reasonable for once? This is an emergency, and you’re choosing now to act jealous?” “Reasonable?” I smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach my eyes. “Fine. Go.” Liam gave me a long look, then turned and bolted out of the boutique. Without a shred of hesitation. I watched his figure disappear through the glass doors. I turned to the consultant. “Help me take it off.” “Miss Vance, the gown…” “Pack it up and send it to the Hudson estate,” I said flatly. “I don’t need it.” After changing back into my clothes, I walked out of the store. My phone buzzed. It was an image message. Sender: Summer. In the photo, Liam had his sleeves rolled up, standing in a cramped kitchen cooking soup. His profile was incredibly soft and focused. Below the photo was a text: Miss Vance, I’m so sorry for ruining your dress fitting. But my stomach ulcer flared up so badly, and Liam insisted that takeout isn’t clean enough. He insisted on making me soup himself. You don’t mind, right? I stared at the photo. There were no aggressive men trapping her. It was just another one of Summer’s pathetic games to secure his attention. And Liam had willingly played right along. My fingers flew across the keyboard as I replied: You two deserve each other. I hit send and blocked her number instantly. At 11:00 PM. Liam returned to our apartment. The place was pitch black. He turned on the lights and saw me sitting on the couch, holding a glass of red wine. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” Liam walked over, trying to soften his tone. “Summer was really shaken up today, so I stayed to keep her company for a bit.” “Shaken up, or was it just her stomach ulcer?” I took a sip of wine and asked quietly. Liam’s face stiffened. “Are you tracking me?” “I’m not that bored.” I set the glass down. “Liam, aren’t you tired?” “What do you mean?” “Lying to both sides, placating both sides. You might not be tired, but I’m exhausted just watching you.” I stood up and faced him. “You can just call off the wedding and be with her.” “Chloe Vance!” Liam snapped. “Do you have to pick a fight right now? The invitations are already out. All of New York knows we are getting married. You want to cancel now?” “Are you just afraid of losing face?” “I am doing this for the reputation of both our families!” Liam took a deep breath, forcing his anger down. “Chloe, I admit I have feelings for Summer. But the position of Mrs. Hudson will only ever belong to you. Just behave, and I will treat you well.” Just behave. The words sounded incredibly repulsive. “Sure,” I suddenly smiled. My smile was bright and dazzling. “Liam, remember what you said today.” I walked past him and went into the bedroom.

Chloe’s POV The night before the wedding. Our families hosted a massive rehearsal dinner at the most luxurious hotel in Manhattan. All our relatives, friends, and business partners were there. The crystal chandeliers gleamed, and the champagne towers sparkled under the lights. I wore a stunning red gown, socializing with the guests with a flawless smile on my face. Liam stood beside me, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. He kept checking his watch and pulling out his phone. “Liam, what is wrong with you?” Liam’s mother walked over, whispering sharply. “Today is a big day for you and Chloe. Focus.” “I’m fine, Mom,” Liam brushed her off, slipping his phone back into his pocket. A waiter carrying a tray accidentally bumped into me. The red wine spilled, splashing onto my skirt. “I am so sorry! Miss Vance, I am so sorry!” The waiter apologized profusely, trembling. Before I could speak, Liam suddenly exploded. “How do you do your job? Are you blind?!” He violently shoved the waiter, his voice echoing across the quieted ballroom. Everyone turned to look at us. I frowned slightly. Liam was overreacting. He wasn’t acting out of concern for me. He was just using this as an excuse to vent his pent-up anxiety. “I’m fine,” I grabbed Liam’s arm. “I’ll just go to the restroom and clean up.” Right then, the phone in Liam’s pocket began to vibrate frantically. As if grabbing onto his last lifeline, he snatched it out immediately. Seeing the name on the screen, his face drained of all color. He violently threw my hand off and answered. “Summer? What’s wrong? Speak to me!” Summer’s terrified screams echoed faintly from the receiver. “Liam! Help me! Someone is breaking down my door! They’re inside… Ah!” The call cut off. Liam’s eyes went completely wild. He turned and bolted toward the exit like a madman. “Liam! Where do you think you’re going?!” his father, Charles Hudson, roared. “Summer is in danger! I have to save her!” Liam didn’t even turn his head. “Stop right there! Do you have any idea what night it is? If you dare walk out of that door, don’t ever call yourself a Hudson again!” Liam paused. He turned around, looking at the room full of guests, his furious parents, and finally, his gaze landed on me. I stood there, watching him. I didn’t stop him, nor did I beg him to stay. My gaze was as cold as if I were looking at a corpse. “I’m sorry,” Liam gritted his teeth. “I can’t let her die.” With that, he ran out of the ballroom. The heavy doors slammed shut with a resounding thud. The room fell into a dead silence before erupting into a frenzy of whispers. “Oh my god, did the groom just run away?” “For a reporter? This is insane!” “The Vance family’s reputation is completely ruined…” Liam’s father looked like he was about to have a stroke. My father, Arthur, looked furious. He strode over to me. “Chloe, what on earth is going on?!” “Dad, it’s fine,” I supported my father, my voice completely steady. “Let the guests enjoy their dinner. It’s just a minor hiccup.” I turned back to the room, raising my wine glass high. “Apologies for the drama, everyone. Mr. Hudson had an emergency to handle. Tomorrow’s wedding will proceed as scheduled. Please, enjoy your evening.” I drained the glass of red wine in one gulp. My movements were sharp and elegant, without a hint of desperation. After calming the guests, I slipped away and walked out onto the hotel terrace. The night wind was freezing. It cleared the alcohol from my mind. I leaned against the railing, looking down at the city streets. Liam’s car was already gone. I closed my eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. It was over. The very last shred of hope I had for Liam had died completely tonight. Click. The sharp sound of a lighter echoed behind me. It was startlingly loud in the quiet night. I spun around. In the shadows of the terrace stood a tall man. He wore a long black trench coat, holding a freshly lit cigarette between his fingers. The glowing red tip flickered in the dark. He stepped out of the shadows. The hallway light hit his face, carving out his sharp, aristocratic features. His eyes were dark, dangerous, and dripping with raw intensity as he stared at me. Ethan. He really came back. My heart skipped a beat. After three years, his aura had become even more terrifying. Ethan walked over, looming over me. His gaze swept over my red gown, finally landing on my bandaged left hand. He reached out, his long fingers gently wrapping around my wrist. His touch was as cold as ice. “Does it still hurt?” His voice was deep, gravelly, and laced with a subtle danger. I tried to pull my hand back, but his grip tightened. “It doesn’t,” I met his gaze. Ethan let out a low chuckle. He took a drag of his cigarette and slowly blew the smoke into my face. The bitter scent of tobacco enveloped me instantly. “He abandoned you at your rehearsal dinner for another woman,” Ethan’s voice held no effort to hide his mockery. “Chloe, is this the man you ran away with three years ago?” My face paled. “I made a mistake,” I admitted frankly, offering no excuses. “And you think a simple confession wipes away those three years?” Ethan suddenly lunged forward, pinning me against the terrace railing.

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I was born with a terrible sense of direction. Not only do I get lost easily, but I can’t tell north from south. Sasha refused to believe it. She claimed she would cure my “bad habit.” She even dragged Julian, my foster brother, and Ethan, my childhood neighbor, into her “special training.” Once, on a trip, they got off the train early and left me alone at the subway station. Another time, at the mall, they slipped out of a different exit without saying a word. They left me wandering like a headless chicken, desperately searching for them. They called it “helping me find my way.” Today, during dinner, I went to the restroom. When I came back, all three of them were gone. Even the table had been completely cleared. I wanted to call them. But when I reached into my pocket, I remembered I had handed my phone to Sasha earlier. I went to the front desk. The hostess handed me a note Sasha had left. It had only two sentences. “We’ve walked this path with you twice. I know you’ve memorized it by now. Go, Chloe!” “The three of us are waiting for you at home.” Suddenly, I found this “training” incredibly boring. Honestly, what’s so bad about having a poor sense of direction? As long as I have Google Maps, I can find my way without anyone else.

It was already evening when I got home. The three of them were sitting in the living room, eating ice cream and watching a movie. Sasha looked up and saw me walk in. She smirked victoriously at the other two. “I told you Chloe would make it home before seven.” “You guys lost. You have to let me plan our entire trip next month.” “Besides, since your term papers are basically done, it’s fine if we head back to campus a few days late.” Julian clicked his tongue. “Chloe, did you team up with Sasha to play us?” “Last time at the mall, it took you four hours to get back.” “This time, it didn’t even take you two.” Julian was my foster brother. My dad took him in when we were kids. His parents had a nasty divorce when he was in second grade, and neither of them wanted him. Growing up, my biggest wish was for my parents to give me an older brother. So, after making sure his mother really had abandoned him, I begged my parents to let him stay. At first, my dad didn’t agree. He tried to reason with me. “Chloe, he’s a human being, not a stray puppy. We can’t just take him in.” But Julian swore right in front of them that he would be the best brother to me. Seeing that the poor kid didn’t even have a warm meal to eat, my dad finally relented and took him in. And now, he had become Sasha’s “brother.” “Exactly. Be honest, Chloe. Did Sasha leave you hints?” The speaker was Ethan, my next-door neighbor. We grew up together. When we were kids, our parents used to joke that we were destined to marry each other. Ethan took it to heart. Knowing I had no sense of direction, he would wait for me every day after school to walk home together. Before Sasha showed up, from first grade to junior year of high school, we walked hand-in-hand for ten years. He had even promised me, “As long as I’m here, you’ll always find your way home.” But lately, he was the one who abandoned me the most. “I knew you two would make excuses for losing,” Sasha said, tossing my phone onto the coffee table. “That’s why I took Chloe’s phone in advance. Now you have to admit defeat.” The smile on Julian’s face stiffened. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to do that?” Ethan’s expression darkened too. “What if something happened to Chloe? We wouldn’t even have been able to reach her.” Sasha looked confused and annoyed. “What is wrong with you two?” “Didn’t we agree to train Chloe together? You’re betraying the team.” Julian paused before speaking up. “Well, Chloe’s home safe, so let’s drop it.” “But don’t take her phone again next time.” Ethan remained quiet for a moment, then walked over to me. He grabbed my hands, checking me over to make sure I was okay. Only then did he let out a sigh of relief. “Sasha meant well. Don’t be mad at her.” “Julian left some watermelon in the fridge for you. I’ll go get it.” “No, thanks.” I grabbed my phone from the table and headed straight for my bedroom. “I’m tired. I want to rest.” Sasha froze, turning to Julian. “Is Chloe mad at me?” She looked a bit embarrassed and stood up to leave. “Maybe I should go. She probably doesn’t want to see me right now.” Ethan followed her. “It’s late. It’s not safe for you to walk home alone. I’ll drive you.” “I can drive her too,” Julian chipped in, not wanting to be left out. He quickly grabbed his shoes. Ethan pushed him back inside. “Come on, Sasha’s place is on my way. You live here, so there’s no need for you to go.” Julian glared at him. “Stop making excuses. You live next door. How is that on your way?” How ridiculous. Both of my childhood protectors were fighting over who got to drive her home. Yet, neither of them had asked me… How a girl with no phone and a horrible sense of direction had managed to find her way back on her own.

In the end, they forced Julian to stay behind. Once I was back in my room, I opened my phone, went to the student portal, and submitted my application for the study abroad program. At eight, my dad came home and made dinner. Julian knocked on my door to call me out. Seeing that I was ignoring him, he sighed. “Are you still mad at Sasha? You know how she is.” “She might be loud and dramatic, but she really cares about you.” During our junior year of high school, Sasha transferred to our school because of her parents’ jobs. On her very first exam, she blew everyone away, taking my spot in the top three alongside Ethan and Julian. A classmate who disliked me sneered in my ear. “Some people act so smug just because they have two guys protecting them. Now look at you. You can’t even hold onto third place.” Sasha happened to walk by and heard it. She immediately started a physical fight with the girl. Both of their parents were called in. But I was drawn to Sasha’s fiercely loyal, no-nonsense personality, and we became best friends. From then on, our trio became a squad of four. We even ended up going to the same college. Until I slowly realized… I was being pushed out of their world. Julian pulled the blanket off my head. “Alright, get up and eat.” My stomach rumbled. Believing that I shouldn’t punish my stomach just because I was upset, I got up to wash my hands and eat. At the table, Julian casually mentioned, “A new amusement park just opened in town. It has a massive Ferris wheel.” “Sasha invited us to go tomorrow.” I was about to decline when my dad spoke up. “My coworkers were talking about that place. You should go, Chloe.” “I remember how much you loved Ferris wheels when you saw them on TV as a kid. It’s a shame we never had one nearby. I was always too busy with work to take you out of town.” Since my dad put it that way, I swallowed my refusal. After dinner, our group chat was blowing up. Sasha was agonizing over what to wear for photos. She posted several pictures of different outfits. Julian and Ethan couldn’t agree. They had spammed over a hundred messages arguing about which was better. Finally, Sasha sent an angry voice note. “Who asked you two? I posted those for Chloe.” Then she added in a softer tone, “Chloe, you’re not still mad, right? I promise I’ll never do it again.” Ethan replied instantly on her behalf. “Don’t worry, Chloe isn’t that petty.” “You helped her with her directional issues. She should be thanking you.” “Right, Chloe?” Sasha believed him. She kept messaging me to pick the best dress. Ethan nudged me in the chat. “Don’t you think the blue dress suits Sasha perfectly? Even the store clerk praised her when she tried it on.” Julian, sitting next to me on the couch, muttered, “The clerk was just being polite. Ethan is such an idiot to believe them.” “That blue dress makes Sasha look washed out. The yellow one I picked is way better.” “She loved it when she tried it on, too.” “Chloe, we live under the same roof. You have to back me up.” I paused, then asked, “You guys bought those dresses in person?” “When? Why didn’t I know about this?” Julian was busy replying to Sasha. Without looking up, he said, “At the mall, on the third floor. You were there too. How did you forget so quickly?”

I froze, a self-deprecating smile forming on my lips. That day at the mall… I had only gone to grab our boba order. When I came back, they were gone. So while I was wandering like a headless chicken looking for them, they were busy helping Sasha try on dresses. No wonder none of them answered my calls or messages. Julian finally realized what he had just admitted. His fingers froze on the screen, and a look of embarrassment crossed his face. “My bad, I misremembered. You weren’t there.” “I wanted to call you, but that store only sells dresses, and you don’t really wear them.” I didn’t say a word. I just stared at him. He reached out to pat my head, but I flinched away. “Are you jealous?” “I’ll take you shopping next week and buy you a couple of outfits. How does that sound?” Maybe because I hadn’t replied in the chat for a while, Sasha initiated a group FaceTime call. I didn’t answer. Julian picked up and handed the phone to me. “Chloe, why aren’t you picking?” Sasha asked. “Is it really that hard?” Julian whispered next to me, “Just pick one. Otherwise, she’ll think you haven’t forgiven her, and she won’t sleep tonight.” I let out a soft laugh, refusing to give him what he wanted. “They both look great. Pick whichever you want.” Sasha complained that I was being half-hearted, but when we met at the amusement park entrance the next day, she was wearing the blue dress. She had chosen Ethan’s pick. A flicker of disappointment crossed Julian’s face. Sasha sent the two guys off to buy drinks and queue up, while she held my hand, walking slowly behind. “I knew you wouldn’t really hold a grudge. After all, we’re best friends.” I just smiled and didn’t reply. Since it was opening day, the park was packed. Most people were there for the giant Ferris wheel. But when it was finally our turn, Ethan and Julian started arguing over who would sit with Sasha. Ethan said, “You’re Chloe’s brother. Of course you should sit with her.” Julian retorted stubbornly, “Sasha wore the dress you picked. To be fair, she should sit with me.” The people in line behind us were getting impatient. Some began to grumble. “Are you guys getting on or what? Go argue somewhere else.” “Are they stupid? Why don’t the three of them just share one carriage? Is there really a need to fight?” The two of them snapped back in unison, “Who wants to sit with him?” But in the end, the three of them got into one carriage anyway. Their excuse was that a single carriage would be roomier for me. So, Julian and Ethan “generously” let me ride alone. Sasha pressed her face against the glass, looking down at me with puppy-dog eyes. “I’m so jealous that you get a whole carriage to yourself while I have to squeeze in with these two.” The girl standing behind me in line whispered to her boyfriend, “Is she serious? That’s such an obvious, disgusting humble brag.” “Keep your eyes open. That right there is a toxic girl. If you ever fall for that kind of act, I will kill you.” I instinctively looked back at her. She looked a bit embarrassed and quickly apologized. “Sorry, I was just joking. Don’t mind me.” I didn’t blame her. After all, she was just telling the truth.

The ticket collector couldn’t stand it either. He chimed in kindly, “Don’t sweat it, kid. I’ll call my son to come over and ride with you. Heck, you can go around twice.” He actually pulled out his phone. I smiled and waved my hand. “It’s fine, thank you. I actually prefer being alone.” When I got off the Ferris wheel, the three of them were gone again. This time, I didn’t panic or look for them. I calmly pulled out my phone and ordered an Uber home. My dad was home on his day off. He was surprised to see me back so early. “Back already? Have you eaten? Where’s Julian?” I didn’t answer. I sat down next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. “Dad, I want to go on an exchange program abroad next semester. What do you think?” “Of course. Go see the world while you’re young. It’s a great opportunity.” “With Julian with you, I’ll feel safe.” I shook my head. “Julian isn’t going.” “We’re adults now, Dad. We have our own paths. I can’t drag him into something he doesn’t want to do.” My dad hesitated. “But you’ve never traveled far by yourself. Going abroad all of a sudden…” I quickly explained, “I won’t be alone. There are other students from my college going too. I’ve already made a friend to travel with.” Only then did he reluctantly agree. Julian didn’t get home until evening. “Chloe, we just went to grab water. Why did you leave on your own?” I was filling out my study abroad documents and didn’t even bother to look up. “It was too hot. I didn’t want to wait.” Once I submitted everything, I noticed our group chat was at 99+ notifications. They were excitedly discussing what to pack, what sunscreen to buy, car rentals, and local food spots. I stared at the screen for a moment, then messaged: “Where are you guys going?” Down the hall, I heard Julian curse. He rushed into my room. “We bought tickets for a trip this afternoon… Since you weren’t there, we forgot to buy yours.” “Let me see if I can get you a standby ticket right now.” Sasha’s voice note played right then. “Don’t bother. Those were the last three tickets available. It’s all your fault, you two were arguing in my ear, making me forget the most important thing.” Seeing that they were about to bicker again, I texted: “No need to look for tickets. It’s too hot anyway. I’d rather stay home.” Julian, sitting next to me, let out a quiet sigh of relief and closed the ticketing app. “Yeah, this summer is brutal. It’s fine, I’ll take photos for you. If I see any cool souvenirs, I’ll bring them back.” The day they left for their trip was the same day I boarded my flight to go abroad. Before leaving, Julian nagged me. “Don’t eat too much cold stuff. Since Dad’s busy, don’t buy whole watermelons you can’t finish. Oh, and keep the door locked.” Ethan walked down the stairs, smirking. “Keep playing mother hen. I’m going to meet up with Sasha.” Julian gritted his teeth and followed him out. I watched their car disappear down the street. Only then did I roll my suitcase out of my room and head downstairs. Finally… I didn’t have to be the awkward third wheel in their three-person world anymore.

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I had just closed a massive deal and was taking a rare day off at home, chatting with my housekeeper, Maria. Suddenly, she grabbed my hands, her face filled with deep emotion as she praised me. “Ma’am, you are truly an angel. You’re so busy with work, yet you still make sure to take such good care of your cousin.” She looked at me, her eyes full of admiration. I froze for a second. “Mr. Miller is such a wonderful man, too. Not only is he amazing to you, but he treats your family so well! He’s even taking your cousin to her prenatal appointments himself!” She paused, then added with a smile. “I heard she’s having a boy!” “Don’t worry, Ma’am. I’ll make sure to prepare the post-pregnancy organic meal preps and premium supplements using only the finest ingredients, just like you ordered!” But wait. Since when did I have a pregnant cousin? Maria was still listing off expensive organic brands and high-end catering services. I couldn’t hear a single word. Seeing my expression change, she gently pulled my sleeve, looking worried. “Ma’am? Are you okay? Are you just tired? Did… did I say something wrong?” She stood there, suddenly anxious and fidgeting. I looked at her and asked, “Which cousin?” Maria blinked, confused. “Mr. Miller told me she’s your distant cousin from your hometown. He said her parents passed away early, and she’s been struggling to make it in the city alone. He said you wanted him to look after her.” Seeing the coldness in my eyes, Maria asked cautiously. “Ma’am… did I run my mouth?” “No,” I replied, forcing my emotions down as I transferred ten thousand dollars to her account via PayPal. “You’ve been working hard lately. Go buy yourself something nice.” She gasped, waving her hands in a panic. I forced the phone into her hand, making her accept it. “You deserve it. Just… don’t tell Ethan I asked about this. He’s sensitive. I don’t want him to feel like he didn’t handle my family matters well.” Maria nodded quickly. “I get it, I get it. Men like Mr. Miller have a lot of pride.” I looked out the window, my heart sinking. For the past few years, the two most important men in my life were the husband I built from scratch, and the father who raised me. Years ago, Ethan was just a broke college kid. I was the only daughter of the Vance family, the sole heiress to the Vance empire. I had always been the golden girl — Ivy League graduate, taking over the family business at a young age. But I fell for Ethan. We met during a hostile corporate bid. Back then, he was just a low-level project manager at a small firm, yet he had the guts to publicly argue with me over a pitch. Two stubborn people slowly fell in love. I brought him home to my father. I promised my dad, “He has nothing right now, but in less than ten years, he will be the brightest star in the business world.” And Ethan did it. He worked harder than anyone. With the resources I handed him on a silver platter, he secured a solid foothold in the company within just a few years. Even though he was always busy, he was always gentle and attentive to me. He would quietly leave late-night snacks in my office when I worked overtime. He would bring me hot chocolate when I was on my period. Back then, his eyes were full of stars whenever he looked at me. I opened my banking app on Snapchat. My heart turned to ice. Over the past six months, there had been dozens of large transfers from our joint account. The largest one was three months ago — five million dollars. I knew that amount too well. It was the seed money I personally approved for his new project. Now, it seemed that money had gone somewhere else. I called my assistant, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “Leo, track the GPS on Ethan’s Bentley. Find out where it is right now.” Half an hour later, Leo called back, his tone hesitating. “Olivia… the car is currently in the parking lot of St. Jude’s Women’s Hospital.” He paused, adding carefully, “I also checked his corporate card. He booked a top-tier luxury VIP suite and a premium postpartum care package at a private maternity clinic. The due date is next month. The registered mother is Chloe Jenkins.” Hearing that name, my chest tightened. She went to the same college as Ethan. After graduation, Ethan personally recruited her into the marketing department as his direct subordinate. A month ago, she submitted her resignation, claiming health issues. Ethan had sighed to me at the time, “What a waste of talent.” I hadn’t thought much of it then. Now, looking back, the warning signs were everywhere.

I grabbed my car keys and sped out of the house. I found them immediately in the VIP wing of the maternity clinic. Ethan was carefully holding Chloe. She was wearing a loose white maternity dress, her baby bump clearly showing. He was whispering in her ear, his eyes full of the same tenderness he used to reserve only for me. But today, he was wearing a bespoke suit, and the cufflinks on his wrists were a six-figure pair I had bought at an auction. The nervous, broke boy I once knew had been completely replaced by this pampered, wealthy businessman. For a second, my mind drifted. I remembered the first time I brought him to meet my father. He wore a faded, washed-out jacket, his palms sweating from anxiety. I walked toward them, step by step. “Ethan.” He whipped his head around, his grip on Chloe’s arm tightening instantly. Chloe saw me and shrank behind his back, her voice trembling. “Olivia…” I smiled, my eyes locking onto her swollen belly. “What are you doing here?” Ethan stepped in front of Chloe, shielding her. He frowned deeply. “If I didn’t come, were you planning to bring the baby home next month and have him call me mommy?” His face darkened, and he lowered his voice. “Olivia! Don’t make a scene here!” I laughed, amused by his sheer audacity. “Ethan, don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” He scoffed, his eyes coldly scanning me. After a long silence, he took a step forward, trying to hug me the way he used to. I stepped aside. His arms froze in mid-air, and his expression grew even uglier. “Fine, I admit it. I’m with Chloe.” He tilted his head, clenching his jaw. “She’s pregnant. The doctor said the pregnancy is high-risk and she needs constant care. What was I supposed to do?” Hearing him admit it still felt like a physical blow. I stared at him. “So? Ethan, let me remind you, we are married! You are cheating on me. That child she’s carrying is a bastard!” “I know!” he suddenly yelled, his patience snapping. “I’m not divorcing you! You will always be my wife!” “But what about her? She’s a young girl fresh out of college, completely alone in this city. Now she’s carrying my child. I can’t just abandon her!” He stared at me, his tone turning accusatory. “Olivia, you have everything. You have the Vance family backing you, endless resources. You are the golden girl, always looking down on everyone. But Chloe is different. She only has me. I cannot leave her.” I laughed out of sheer anger. “So, buying her a house and a car… was all to feed your fragile male ego?” My voice was ice cold. “But Ethan, you used my money to support your mistress, and now you want me to understand your ‘predicament’? The world doesn’t work that way.” Ethan’s face completely hardened. “Yes, I used your money.” “Olivia, I’ve never denied your ability, but this is reality. Your father is old. Vance Enterprises will be mine sooner or later. If I want to, I can make sure you end up with nothing very soon.” “Think about it.” “So,” I said, pausing after every word, “I deserve to be betrayed?” He stayed silent. Behind him, Chloe began to sob. “Olivia, please, I beg you. Just let us be together!” I glared at her. “Shut up. You don’t get a say here.”

I turned around and walked away without looking back. Back home, I looked at our wedding photo in the living room. Ethan was holding me tightly, smiling brightly against a backdrop of snowy mountains. That was right after he helped me close a massive European deal. We went on a trip to celebrate. He had told me, “You are my entire world. I will never betray you.” How pathetic. I sat in the dark living room, wide awake all night. The next morning, the doorbell rang. When I opened it, Chloe was standing there. She was wearing a white maternity dress, her belly prominent. Her eyes were red, and her voice was shaky. “Olivia… can we talk?” I poured her a glass of plain water and pulled out a chair. Chloe kept her head down, nervously wringing her hands. “We… we really love each other. Ethan told me that there’s no love left between you two. You’re only together because of corporate interests.” “And that money… I just thought, you’re so rich, you wouldn’t care about that pocket change…” I stared at her quietly, my eyes landing on her stomach. Deep down, I always knew Ethan stayed with me for the Vance family. My father was a titan in the business world. Countless people tried to climb their way up to him. Ever since I took over Ethan’s career, I gave him the platform, the resources, and paved every single road for him. I watched him grow from a nervous kid who couldn’t even deliver a proper toast, to the confident “Mr. Miller” who could charm any boardroom. He had told me a thousand times, “Marrying you is the greatest thing that ever happened to me.” Chloe clutched the glass, summoning the courage to look up at me. “Olivia, you already have so much. But Ethan is different. He doesn’t want to live in your shadow, or the Vance family’s shadow, for the rest of his life. He needs a woman who can look up to him, who worships him. Besides, you’re such a career-driven woman. Family and kids don’t even matter to you, do they?” My face instantly went cold. I slammed my glass onto the table. “Get out.” Chloe gasped, startled. My voice dropped to a freezing register. “Get. Out.” Her eyes welled with tears again. She stood up clumsily. Just as she reached for the door, I called out to her. “Chloe, Ethan and I are not divorced. You are, and will always be, just a homewrecker. Also, it took me seven years to groom him into the man he is today. You’re just picking up my trash. You should be thanking me.” I watched her walk away, feeling absolutely nothing. A few minutes later, Ethan called. His voice was laced with frustration. “Chloe came back crying. You’re so cold-hearted, Olivia. She’s a pregnant woman. Your words are like knives.” I let out a cold laugh. “You’re the one who caused all of this, and now you’re lecturing me?” He was silent for a moment, then sighed. “Olivia, we didn’t have to end up like this. Why can’t you just be happy as Mrs. Vance? In our circle, which man doesn’t have a side piece?” “I don’t. I guess I’m just different.” “Cut the crap, Ethan. You disgust me.” A soft sigh came through the receiver. “Olivia, then don’t blame me for what comes next.” The next morning, Leo called, his voice panicked. “Olivia, we have a massive problem! The merger with Astra Tech… has been blocked!” My heart sank. That project was something my team and I had worked on for six months. It was an $80 million acquisition — our most important strategic move for the second half of the year.

Leo’s voice was cracking. “Astra Tech just sent over a cease-and-desist letter from their lawyers. They claim we leaked their core trade secrets, causing their stock price to plunge! Not only are they pulling out of the merger, but they are also suing us for $30 million in damages!” I closed my eyes. The only person who could access those core files on my computer was someone closest to me. And Astra Tech’s main rival was none other than Carter Davis’s new startup — Ethan’s childhood best friend. This was a trap Ethan had set for me. Using my money to sabotage my project. What a brilliant play. I gripped my phone and drove straight to the office. The atmosphere in the boardroom was suffocating. Every single board member was present. My father sat at the head of the table, his face pale with rage. Ethan stood beside him, looking deeply remorseful. “Olivia, you’re here.” He immediately walked up to me, frowning with faux concern. “This is bad. Astra Tech is taking a very hard line. I’ve already contacted Carter to see if he can pull some strings to help us out.” He played his part so well. So well that even my father seemed to believe him. My dad looked at me, disappointment heavy in his eyes. I ignored Ethan, walked straight to the front of the table, scanned the room, and looked directly at my husband. “This was my mistake. I take full responsibility, and I resign.” My father slammed his hands on the table and stood up. “Nonsense! Olivia, is this the time to play the blame game?” Even Ethan was stunned. He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t give him the chance. “Dad, board members, I caused this massive loss to the company, and I am willing to bear the consequences.” I bowed deeply to the room. “As of today, I am stepping down from the board and resigning from all my positions at Vance Enterprises.” “I am handing all operations over to Ethan.” I looked up and smiled. “Thank you all for your support over the years. I wish the company nothing but success.” Ethan stood up, taking a step forward. “Olivia…” “Ethan,” I looked at him, my voice calm. “You win.” After that day, I never went back to the office. Rumors about my downfall spread like wildfire through high society. Ethan naturally took over my position, becoming the new face of Vance Enterprises, basked in glory. Someone snapped a picture of him and Chloe at a gala. He had his arm wrapped around her waist, gently touching her baby bump. They looked like the perfect power couple. People in our social circles were gossiping. “I told you, Olivia was too intimidating. What man could stand that?” “So what if she’s a billionaire heiress? Once her powerful father stepped back, the husband she raised for seven years took everything. She ended up with nothing.” “I heard she’s living in a tiny apartment now, crying herself to sleep every day.” I did move back to the small apartment we lived in when we first started out. But I wasn’t crying. I was just waiting for the right moment. Three months later, on Chloe’s birthday, Leo sent me an address. “Olivia, I found it. Ethan bought Chloe a mansion in the Hamptons. He’s throwing her a massive birthday bash there tonight.” I looked at the dark sky outside and smiled. “The game is over.” The mansion in the Hamptons was lit up like a Christmas tree. I pushed open the heavy front doors and immediately spotted Ethan in the center of the living room. He was holding Chloe’s hand, helping her cut a massive birthday cake. His friend, Carter, was standing right next to them. The moment I walked in, the room went dead silent. The smile on Ethan’s face froze. Chloe instinctively hid behind him. Ethan frowned, his voice dripping with annoyance. “What are you doing here?” I smiled, taking a step toward them. “How could I miss my ‘cousin’s’ birthday?” “And I didn’t come alone. Look who else is here.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “441103”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

When mafia boss Hayden Foster slept with me, he always liked to cover my eyes with black lace, forcing me over and over to say his name, say I loved him, call him “Daddy.” When things got most intense, he would even record the sounds I made in bed. Back then, I truly thought he was madly in love with me. Until the day Serena Allen returned to the country, and I realized with a jolt that her voice was almost identical to mine. Hayden held her in his arms. “I love you. This time, will you say yes and marry me?” So all these years, I had only been a “voice double.” Our marriage was an act. His devotion was a lie. I signed the divorce agreement with my own hand, only to be imprisoned by him in the basement. The bodyguard pinned my shoulders down while he said in the gentlest voice, “Bear with it. You’re still mine. Don’t upset Serena.” But they forgot. I was a doctor. And doctors knew how to wield scalpels, too. Since he wanted to use me as a stand-in, I would cut this performance off with my own hands. Chapter One Chloe Quinn POV In the second year after our marriage, all of New York high society was still talking about how Hayden Foster had gone against his family for three years just to pursue me. They said his mafia father had even beaten him until three of his ribs broke before finally allowing him to marry me. And I loved him deeply, too. It was just that Hayden Foster had one strange kink. Every time we made love, he liked taking me from behind and covering my face with a black lace ribbon, liked making me say his name again and again while he moved against me, making me say I loved him, making me call him Daddy. Only when my voice had gone completely hoarse would he finally let me go. When things got most intense, he would even record my moans. Back then, I truly thought he was madly in love with me. But on the very day I found out I was pregnant, the news of Hayden Foster’s ex-girlfriend Serena Allen returning to the country hit the trending charts. In the video, they brushed past each other in the airport lobby, then both turned back and gazed at each other from a distance. The comments beneath the video were almost entirely full of praise. [Now this is true love.] [Serena Allen really is prettier than any Hollywood star!] [She’s an internationally renowned singer. Her voice is simply heavenly!] [If she hadn’t gotten a terminal illness and broken up with him on her own, Chloe Quinn never would have had the chance to marry Hayden Foster!] At first, I told myself not to care about those rumors online. Until I saw one comment, and my whole body froze in place. [All of New York knows Hayden Foster is different from other mafia bosses. He has very high standards when it comes to a woman’s voice.] [Back then, he liked Ms. Allen not only because of her looks, but also because of her voice. I heard his current wife’s voice was almost exactly the same as Ms. Allen’s.] My mind exploded with a roar. No wonder every time we made love, he covered my face and turned off all the lights. He said that only then could he focus more on listening to my voice. No wonder he recorded our dirty talk and played it on repeat in his office. I had never overthought it. I had even believed it was an intimate ritual that belonged only to us. With trembling hands, I opened my phone and pulled up the audio clips I had once recorded for him. Every audio clip corresponded to a page of unsigned lyrics. Hayden Foster always said there was a musician he was working with who wanted to hear how different vocal tones would interpret the songs, so he asked me to help record some demos. I had never doubted him. Until today, when I opened one set of lyrics and, as if possessed, searched it online. I found that every single song was performed by Serena Allen. Tears fell drop by drop onto the screen, and my chest turned ice-cold. I rushed to the private club Hayden Foster often visited. The bodyguards at the entrance recognized me and did not stop me. But just as I reached the door of the private room, through the half-closed door, I heard a burst of laughter inside. “Hayden, Serena has recovered and come back now. You still haven’t divorced? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for that stand-in.” Hayden Foster leaned against the sofa, a cigar between his fingers, his tone indifferent. “You’re overthinking it. I married her only to resolve Serena’s obsession. It was just an act to let Serena go get treatment with peace of mind.” I froze outside the door, my legs going weak. The people in the private room were still laughing. “Serena was just afraid she wouldn’t make it off the operating table and that you’d be all alone. It just so happened that woman had donated blood to her before, so Serena made a fuss and told you to pursue her.” Someone else joined in, egging him on. “You’re a mafia boss, living under gunfire every day. Having a doctor wife is pretty convenient.” “But her body really is amazing. How about you trick her into a fake divorce, and when she’s devastated, I’ll go after her? Of course, if you can’t bear to let her go, forget it.” After a brief silence, his voice came again, familiar yet strange. “She’s been with me for so many years, after all. If you’re serious, then go after her. If you’re just playing around, forget it. Otherwise, if this gets to Serena, she’ll blame me.” Stand-in? It felt as if someone had struck my head hard. I staggered back, unable to listen anymore. So the happiness I believed in had been nothing but a performance from beginning to end. The only one who had fallen too deep into the act was me. He had once broken with his family for me, even given up his position as heir. He had also left his family for me and lived in a tiny rented apartment for three years. A man who never cooked had made breakfast for me for five years. But all of that had actually been an act! How ridiculous. After I got home, I rushed into the bathroom and soaked in the tub, trying to calm myself down. I told myself maybe they had just drunk too much. When men got together, didn’t they just love to brag? But that night, he sent only one message: [I have to handle family business tonight. Go to bed early.] I sat on the sofa for the entire night. It was almost dawn when he finally came home. He looked completely relaxed. When he saw me, he smiled and said, “Could my lazy honey not sleep without me here? Look, I bought your favorite egg tarts.” I did not move or speak. He seemed not to notice at all and casually took out a document to hand to me. “Chloe, my position is dangerous, and the family’s companies are under FBI investigation. I don’t want you to get dragged into this. Why don’t we get divorced for now, then remarry after the investigation is over?” I looked at him quietly and smelled the strong scent of roses on his body. I never used rose-scented perfume. It really must have been hard for him. After spending the night with another woman, he could still come up with such an absurd excuse to trick me into a divorce. Chapter Two Chloe Quinn POV I smiled and, with absolute calm, took the divorce agreement and signed my name. Hayden Foster pulled the signed paper away and comforted me. “One month from now, after we get the divorce papers, we’ll go get a new marriage certificate.” I stared at him, trying to find some trace of lying in those eyes. But those eyes were filled so perfectly with tenderness and love. My ice-cold heart actually warmed a little. Clinging to that last bit of expectation I should never have had, I gripped his hand and said softly, “If it’s such a hassle, maybe we shouldn’t get divorced for now?” An unnatural flicker passed through his eyes, then was quickly disguised as calm. “It’s no hassle. Everything I’m doing is to protect you.” As he spoke, he naturally pulled me into his arms, his palm stroking my back again and again. “Silly girl, trust me, okay? I really do love you. Be good. Don’t overthink all the time.” In that instant, I almost truly believed him. But as I smelled the unfamiliar rose fragrance on his collar, my stomach churned. He lowered his head and kissed my lips. At first it was a gentle test, but gradually, his breathing grew heavy. I turned my face away on instinct and pushed at his chest. “I don’t feel like it tonight.” His movements paused for a moment, and a trace of impatience flashed through his eyes. The next second, he grabbed my wrist and forcefully pinned me against the wall with my back to him. “Be good. Say my name.” I bit my lip and said nothing. His movements became rougher. “Chloe, say you love me.” I closed my eyes, my voice trembling. “Not enough. Louder.” At that moment, all my resistance seemed pale and powerless. I closed my eyes and let the tears slide down. So those moments of intimacy I had believed belonged only to us were nothing but proof that he loved another woman. Just then, the phone he had placed on the bedside table suddenly rang. He glanced at the screen, immediately let go of me, and got up to put on his clothes. “There’s something going on with the organization. I need to go over.” I lowered my head, my voice hoarse. “Okay. Go.” One month later, our paths would split for good. We would have nothing to do with each other anymore. “Good girl.” He let out a low laugh. Like rewarding an obedient pet, he casually brought the egg tart he had bought to my lips, then turned and went into the bathroom. Out of reflex, I took a bite. The rich taste of cheese exploded in my mouth instantly. I froze, then hurriedly spat it out. How could he not remember I was allergic to cheese? When we had just started dating, I accidentally ate cheese and was sent to the ER. When I woke up, the doctor had even half-joked, “Comfort your boyfriend a little. He was crying so hard outside he was a total mess. He almost got down on his knees and begged me to save you.” From then on, every time we went out to eat, Hayden Foster would repeatedly remind the servers: absolutely no cheese in the food. The memory still carried a hint of sweetness, but right now, my hands and feet were already turning red. Patches of rash rose across my skin, itching unbearably. I laughed at myself, picked up the medicine, and was just about to swallow it when I suddenly remembered that I was pregnant. My fingertips trembled, and I slowly put the bottle back down. Just then, the bathroom door opened. “What’s wrong? Where do you feel uncomfortable?” He looked at me with concern. Before I could speak, his phone suddenly rang again. After he answered, the laziness on his face vanished instantly, and his tone went tense. “Protect her. I’m coming right now.” He hurriedly changed his clothes and walked to the door. As if suddenly remembering something, he turned back to look at me. “A friend of mine just returned to the country and ran into a shootout with a rival family. I have to go help him.” Then he reminded me, “Remember to finish breakfast before going to work.” As if nothing had happened, I lowered my sleeve and asked blandly, “What flavor are the egg tarts?” “Cheese. They’re really popular lately. I waited in line for ages.” There was a trace of impatience in his voice, as if he thought I was asking too many questions. I nodded and said only softly, “Got it. Drive safely.” He gripped his phone, seeming to feel that something was off. But before he could figure it out, the phone rang again. He left without looking back. I watched his departing figure, my fingertips trembling slightly. Then I picked up a mask, left the house, hailed a cab, and followed him. The car stopped outside a remote alley. From a distance, I watched him and followed him to the end. Just then, a fragile figure in red stumbled out from the alley entrance. Behind her, a man holding a knife chased after her. Almost at the same instant, Hayden Foster drew the pistol from his waist. With a bang, the bullet pierced the forehead of the thug following behind her with perfect accuracy. The man did not even let out a grunt before collapsing straight to the ground. Hayden immediately reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, his voice cold. “I told you, if you take risks like this again, I’ll lock you up.” That woman, Serena Allen, stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the lips. “I just haven’t been back in the country for too long and wanted to go out for some fun. Besides, I have you. I’m not afraid of bad guys.” I watched him push her into the car and lock the door. Then he cupped the back of her head and kissed her hard. The kiss was rough and hungry. Tiny movements spread through the car again and again, making my vision swim. Only after a long while did the movement inside the car slowly quiet down. Afterward, she escaped the car shyly, and he chased after her, his eyes full of indulgent affection. I braced myself against the wall, feeling utterly sick. I stood there blankly for a long time, until my fingers turned cold. I took off the silver ring, yanked it off hard, and tossed it into the filthy gutter. Then I turned and strode away. Chapter Three Chloe Quinn POV That afternoon, I started running a fever. Half-awake and half-asleep, my mind was filled with a hazy ache. In my dream, I saw Hayden Foster go alone to the dock to unload cargo. He had once been the heir of a mafia family, yet workers ordered him around, leaving him covered in grime. But he did not seem to care at all. He used the wages he earned to buy a silver ring, then came specifically to see me. Before coming to me, he had even showered and changed into clean clothes. “Chloe Quinn, I have no money and no power right now. I’m not asking you to accept me. But can you just not date anyone else for now? Three years. I only need three years.” Without hesitation, I put on the ring. “Hayden Foster, I’m willing to work hard with you to win your family’s approval. But if one day you get tired, remember to tell me. I’ll leave without looking back.” The dream ended. The high fever made the allergic patches on my body hot and itchy, like thousands of ants crawling over me. Suddenly, a scorching heat spread through my lower body, and I abruptly realized—the baby… On instinct, I called Hayden Foster. The phone rang two or three times before a woman’s voice came from the other end. I knew it was Serena Allen. “Hello? If you need something, say it quickly. I’m filming a public service video right now. I don’t have time to chat with you.” A sharp pain tore through my abdomen, and I could not worry about anything else. I hurriedly said, “Please tell Hayden Foster I might be miscarrying. Tell him to come back immediately and take me to the hospital.” The other end of the line went silent for a moment. Soon, her careless voice sounded again. “Your voice sounds just like mine. No wonder Hayden likes it.” “It’s just losing a baby. Is there any need to make such a big scene? No wonder there aren’t enough medical resources. They’re all being wasted by people like you.” I clutched my stomach, wondering if I was hearing things. “You’re a woman too. How can you say something like that? Give the phone to Hayden Foster. I need to talk to him!” On the other end, Serena Allen answered carelessly, “Ms. Quinn, even heaven thinks you don’t deserve to give birth to his child. You should just accept your fate.” Just as she was about to hang up, I heard Hayden Foster’s voice from the other end. Furious and desperate, I shouted, “Hayden Foster!” But Hayden Foster did not respond to me. I only heard the conversation between Hayden Foster and Serena Allen. “Serena, what’s wrong? Is your heart bothering you again?” Hayden Foster asked anxiously. “My heart hurts so much! Hayden, why don’t you go back and check on Chloe Quinn? What if she really is pregnant…” He listened quietly, then reached out and picked up the phone. His voice was calm but barbed. “Chloe Quinn, you’re infertile. How could you possibly be pregnant? Stop acting.” “And from now on, don’t make a fuss over nothing. Serena has a heart condition. If you scare her like this, something could happen to her…” I could not speak. The woman on the other end kept talking, and in the end, he only left me with one sentence. “I’ve been too busy these past two days, so I won’t be coming back for now. Don’t call over a little thing like this.” The phone beeped, and my heart sank lower and lower. I could only call emergency services myself, then ask my best friend to rush to the hospital and help sign the paperwork. After the surgery, I was unconscious for three days and three nights before I woke up. My best friend said that after she got my call, she rushed to the hospital at once, but it was still too late. The doctor said that if the papers had been signed even ten minutes earlier, the baby could have been saved. Then my best friend sat by my bed and cursed that scumbag for a full half hour before she finally calmed down enough to buy food. I took out my phone and opened Instagram. Less than a minute later, I saw the video Hayden Foster had reposted. It was only two minutes long. In it, Serena Allen called for people to care for stray animals and cherish life. Under the video, Hayden Foster left a comment saying he fully supported her public service work. I gently touched my stomach. My heart had long since hurt past the point of numbness, leaving only faint irony behind. At my best friend’s insistence, I rested for another two days before leaving the hospital. When I got home, Hayden Foster still had not returned. I did not care. I went to work and came home as usual. It was not until the weekend night of the second week that he finally came home. When he entered, I was organizing my medical license and work documents. Hayden Foster said sarcastically, “Aren’t you just fine?” Before I could explain, he grabbed some clothes and went into the bathroom. A short while later, his phone rang inside the bathroom. Even though he lowered his voice, I still heard his conversation with Serena Allen. “Yeah, don’t worry. She wasn’t pregnant. She was probably just being petty.” “Okay, I’ll do what you say. I’ll stay at home tonight. If I’m not there, don’t kick off your blanket while you sleep!” I let out a soft laugh and pretended I had not heard, busying myself with my own things. We were already divorced. He could think whatever he wanted. Nothing I said to explain myself mattered anymore. The only thing was, since he was staying home tonight, I would have to find an excuse to sleep in a separate room. Otherwise, sharing the same bed would honestly feel revolting. As I was thinking about it, he walked into the bedroom and said to me, “There’s a small issue with Serena Allen’s interview…” I cut him off. “Go check on her.” A flicker of discomfort crossed his face, but in the end, he only said, “I’ll be right back.” That night, he never came back, and I slept without a single dream. Chapter Four Chloe Quinn POV Early the next morning, Hayden Foster unexpectedly rushed back for once and insisted on driving me to work. I found it a little strange, but I didn’t refuse. The car had just turned past an intersection when we saw a small car hit an elderly man, then speed away. Hayden instinctively slammed on the brakes and was about to open the door and get out when I reached out to stop him. “Call emergency services first. I’m a doctor. I’ll go down and start rescue measures.” It was a doctor’s professional reflex. The other party had committed a hit-and-run. I had to make sure evidence was preserved to help this old man. After confirming the dashcam was on, I pushed the door open and got out. I hadn’t even taken two steps when Hayden suddenly called after me. “Serena’s monitoring smartwatch is sending an alert. It might be her heart. I have to go check on her. Wait here for the ambulance.” Lives were at stake on both sides, so I didn’t stop him. I only reminded him to save the video evidence. The old man’s condition was terrible. No matter how I performed CPR, his heartbeat remained weak. After he was sent to the hospital, they immediately issued a critical condition notice. I called the number saved in his phone as “Granddaughter” countless times, but no one answered. By the time the police arrived and asked me to sign off on the special procedure, the old man was already gone. The doctors pushed the body out of the operating room. I stayed where I was, waiting for the follow-up procedures, when a sudden ominous feeling rose in my chest. As if possessed, I logged into the backend on my phone and copied the accident footage. I had just gotten ready to upload it to the cloud when the elevator doors opened with a ding— Serena Allen rushed out. The moment she saw the old man, she threw herself at him and cried as if her heart were being ripped apart. “Grandpa! What happened to you? I’m here! Please get up!” I froze for a few seconds as an absurd thought flashed through my mind—could there really be such a coincidence in this world? But before I could speak, she had already gotten up, charged over to me, and slapped me hard across the face. “Chloe Quinn, it was you, wasn’t it? If you hate me, come after me. What kind of skill is it to take revenge on an old man?” Fire surged in my eyes, but I stayed calm. “I’ve already told the police what happened. If you have questions, you can ask them.” She glared at me, her voice trembling and hysterical. “If it wasn’t you, why didn’t you make the driver come here? If it wasn’t you, why would you be so kind as to bring my grandfather to the hospital?” Her logic was so ridiculous it made me laugh in anger. I was about to take out my phone and show her the evidence when she suddenly lunged at me to snatch it. In the chaos, she used too much force and fell, dragging my phone down with her. The moment Hayden arrived, he happened to see Serena and me on the ground. Without the slightest hesitation, he rushed over and shoved me hard into the wall. “Are you insane?” My spine and the back of my head slammed into the wall almost at the same time. The sharp pain made my vision go black. Before I could recover, Serena had already thrown herself into his arms, crying as if she were falling apart. “Hayden, Grandpa is dead! I don’t have a grandfather anymore! She’s the one who hit him and killed him… Make her kneel in front of Grandpa and apologize to him!” I looked at him. I watched him fall silent. I watched the hesitation in his eyes. My heart went cold, inch by inch. I suddenly remembered the year I had just graduated and become a doctor. A patient’s family was unhappy with my treatment plan, so they cornered me in an alley and forced me to kneel and slap myself. It was him. He charged in with his bare hands and fought those people until his whole body was covered in blood. He forced himself to walk over to me and said coldly to that group of people— “This idiot flipped through a pathology textbook thousands of times just to become a good doctor. She can recite all fifty-six thousand six hundred eighty-one words backward. You think you can shatter her dream with filthy methods? Keep dreaming.” In that moment, he was the brightest light in my world. But now, that beam of light stood before me, cold as ice. “Chloe,” he said, “kneel and say goodbye to Grandpa. Let the old man leave in peace.” Serena lay in his arms, lifted her head to look at me, and revealed a provocative smile. “Not say goodbye. Apologize.” I closed my eyes and let out a cold laugh. “Whether I did anything wrong, the police will tell you. But Serena Allen, you’re crying so miserably. Are you afraid your grandfather’s ghost will come looking for you tonight and ask why you didn’t answer his—” Before I could finish, a slap landed hard across my face. “Enough. Stop provoking her.” After that, Hayden ordered the bodyguards to drag me to the hospital bed and kick me in the knees. With a bang, I dropped to my knees. A tearing pain shot through my knees. I stared at him, my voice hoarse. “Hayden Foster, you clearly saw the real culprit.” He froze for a moment, and a trace of guilt flashed through his eyes. Then he bent down and whispered into my ear, “Serena is weak. Grandpa’s death is too much of a blow to her. If she doesn’t vent, she’ll get sick. You’re just a little doctor. It doesn’t matter if you spend a few days in prison. When you come out, I’ll compensate you.” I could hardly believe my ears. Rage instantly burned to its peak. I shoved him away. “On what grounds? I’m not the one who hit him! Are you going to believe whatever she says? Are you really going to ignore the truth and send me to prison? Hayden Foster, how can you say that so easily—” Before I could finish, he pressed me back down to the floor. The bodyguards tore open my suit jacket, tied my hands behind my back, and stuffed some random cloth into my mouth. Hayden bent down, looked at me, and smiled with a tenderness that was cruel. “Be good. You’re just a useless doctor.” But back then, I became a doctor for him. He was a mafia boss. He was often injured, and it wasn’t convenient for him to go to the hospital, so I treated his wounds at home. Back then, he held me and said, “Baby, you’re the greatest doctor in the world.” Now, for his mistress, he called me useless. After saying that, he turned and walked to Serena’s side. She sobbed into the camera, crying out “hit-and-run” and “murderer” over and over. The crowd gathered, whispering and pointing. “How shameless. She killed someone and she’s still this cold-blooded.” “She’s dressed all proper. Probably a mistress.” People pointed at me and cursed me, but I couldn’t say a single word. Serena kept stirring up their emotions. Beside us, a family member of a drunk-driving victim completely broke down, rushed over, and started punching and kicking me. Fists slammed into my face and body. My bones made cracking sounds. I wanted to protect my head, but my hands were tied. All I could do was curl up and let the blows fall on me. Through the crowd, I vaguely saw Hayden’s face. Those eyes that had once made me feel safe now held nothing but indifference. Serena pulled him away to “settle Grandpa Allen’s body.” I slowly closed my eyes. Those fists and kicks shattered the few memories I had left, bit by bit. The man who would become flustered with just one look from me. The man who couldn’t handle spicy food but was willing to eat Mexican food with me. The man who sat on a train for more than ten hours just to bring me breakfast. All of it was ripped from my mind by force. The pain was so intense I couldn’t catch my breath, and I passed out completely. Hayden Foster, so even your care has an expiration date. Falling in love with you really hurts.

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My sister had the power of the Midas touch. With a single tap of her finger, she could turn rotting wood into solid gold. She started live-streaming, letting her viewers choose what to transform. Overnight, half of our house was turned into gold bricks. However, every time she performed her “miracle,” my personal gold investment portfolio shrank. When I realized something was wrong and confronted her, she accused me of being jealous. “Hazel, is it because I’m famous now and you’re green with envy? Should I toss you a gold coin or two as charity?” My father, wearing a thick gold chain she had “manifested,” slapped me across the face in a rage. “You just can’t stand to see this family succeed! Chloe is talented and loves this family. You claimed you saved up gold—where is it then?!” Clutching my swollen cheek, I made a silent vow to expose her lies. But as days went by, I found nothing. Meanwhile, my gold savings were completely drained. Until the day I was diagnosed with a tumor. That was the day Chloe started another live-stream. “Send me some gifts, guys! Today, I’m going to manifest fifty pounds of gold live on camera!”

After a grueling shift of overtime, I habitually opened my financial app to check my gold investment portfolio. My brows furrowed. The numbers were off. It was only short by a fraction of a gram—worth maybe twenty dollars—but for someone like me who calculated every penny and watched the market daily, this was no illusion. “Probably just a system delay or a market spread,” I muttered to myself. I didn’t dwell on it. The market had been wildly volatile lately, and such a minor glitch was negligible for a long-term holder. Before I could lock my screen, my dad’s call came through, frantic and loud. “Hazel! Get home right now! Something massive has happened!” “What’s wrong?” I asked, instantly tense. My dad’s ecstatic voice blasted through my AirPods. “Your sister is a goddess! She can turn things into gold!” I sighed, kicking off my flats at the door. “Dad, have you been brainwashed by those TikTok conspiracy videos again? Or is Chloe pulling another prank for her stream?” “You stubborn brat, why don’t you believe me?! Just get your butt home! Every minute you waste is costing us a fortune!” The line went dead. I shook my head in exasperation. My sister, Chloe, had been a headache since she was a kid. She wanted to be an influencer, then an actress, wasting tons of family money in the process. God knew what kind of stunt she was pulling this time. When I pushed the door open, my dad was jumping up and down in the living room, clutching his phone. “Look! Your sister is a miracle worker!” Dad practically shoved his screen into my face. “Chloe just tapped her finger, and five hundred dollars appeared out of thin air in my Venmo! Five hundred bucks!” I glanced at the screen. The notification did show a five-hundred-dollar deposit, but the transaction memo was just a string of encrypted, random characters. “Oh, you’re back, Hazel,” Chloe said, casting a dismissive glance at me. “Dad said you didn’t believe in my superpower.” “Then open your gold investment app,” Dad urged impatiently. Under his pressuring gaze, I unlocked my phone and tapped the gold-and-black icon of my brokerage app. “Watch closely,” Chloe said. She tapped the air lightly with her index finger. In the next second, my heart skipped a beat, and I nearly dropped my phone. On the screen, my gold balance—which was originally around 300 grams—started ticking upward rapidly without any purchase order from me. 350 grams. 400 grams. 500 grams! In the blink of an eye, my portfolio had doubled! My hands shook as I refreshed the page three times, even logging out and back in. The extra gold was still there, sitting securely in my account. It was worth nearly fifteen thousand dollars! “How… how is this possible?” I stared at Chloe, dumbfounded. “I told you it was real!” Dad slapped his thigh in excitement. “Chloe has the golden touch now! Everything she points at turns to money!” Chloe couldn’t hide the smug satisfaction in her eyes. “Believe me now, Hazel? This is called manifestation.” “You used to tell me that manifesting was just a lazy fantasy. What about now? I manifested actual wealth. Pretty impressive, right?”

The evidence was right in front of me. Looking at the very real transaction history, I had no choice but to believe it. I frowned, stepping closer to inspect my sister. “Does this power have any side effects? Chloe, do you feel sick or anything?” She pushed me away impatiently. “Oh, stop being such a buzzkill, Hazel. We’re about to be millionaires. Who cares about side effects?” Dad’s eyes gleamed with greed. He slapped his forehead, an idea striking him. “Chloe, your sister actually has a point. What if there’s a limit to this power? We need to maximize it! Let’s start a live stream. People on TikTok go crazy for this stuff.” Dad had already mapped out a grand blueprint in his head. “We don’t have to use the real power all the time; that would be too exhausting. We can buy some gold foil and metallic paint beforehand. Prepare some old wood and rocks. During the stream, use those props as cover, and only perform the real transformation at key moments. The visual impact will go viral!” Chloe’s eyes lit up. “Yes! And we can run a giveaway! We can randomly select a lucky viewer and ‘manifest’ gold directly into their investment accounts—just like I did for Hazel! Once people see real money hitting their accounts, they’ll shower me with expensive digital gifts!” The two of them got more and more excited, as if they could already see mountains of cash falling from the sky. Standing on the side, watching their feverish excitement, a deep sense of dread crept into my heart. The conservation of energy is a fundamental law of physics. How could something be created out of nothing without a price? I couldn’t help but speak up. “Dad, Chloe, this is too bizarre. What if this power is draining her life? We should take Chloe to the hospital for a checkup first, or at least keep this low-key. What if some government agency takes her away for research? And what if taxing this power ruins her health?” The smile on Dad’s face froze. Slowly, his expression turned into utter disgust. “What are you talking about?! Your sister has a gift, and instead of being happy for her, you’re cursing her?” Chloe gently pulled Dad’s sleeve, putting on a soft, victimized voice. “Dad, don’t blame Hazel. She’s just worried about me. Honestly, every time I use this power, I do feel completely drained, like my soul is being hollowed out.” Hearing this, I was about to warn her again, but her tone suddenly shifted. She looked up, looking incredibly noble and self-sacrificing. “But for our family to live a good life, for you to live in a mansion and wear a Rolex, what does a little sacrifice matter? As long as we can be rich, I don’t mind losing a few years of my life.” Tears welled up in Dad’s eyes. He glared at me fiercely, then grabbed Chloe’s hands. “Look at your sister! Now that is selflessness! That is true love! Chloe is talented and devoted, unlike you—useless and filled with jealousy!” “You claimed you saved up gold. Where is it? You’ve worked for years and you’re still a low-level corporate drone. Last time I asked you to cover a dinner bill with my friends, you said you couldn’t afford it and made me lose face! I haven’t even settled that score with you yet!” “Get out of my house, you jealous leech. You won’t get a single penny of our wealth!” I was shoved toward the door. The door slammed shut, then opened briefly just for my purse to be hurled out onto the hallway floor. Chloe looked down at me with a smirk. “Hazel, I know you’re jealous. The gold I manifested effortlessly is worth more than what you’ve earned working yourself to death for years.” “But that’s reality. Are you green with envy? Maybe I can toss you some spare change?” I took a deep breath. Instead of rushing to pick up my bag, I looked her dead in the eye and warned her. “I’m your sister, which is why I’m telling you this. You admitted this manifestation has side effects. Dad’s greed is a bottomless pit. Don’t ruin your own health just to pull cash out of thin air.” I quietly bent down to pick up my purse, but she kicked it, sending it tumbling down the stairs. “Oops. My bad, Hazel. My foot slipped. Guess you’ll have to walk down and get it.” “To tell you the truth,” Chloe said, casually inspecting her manicure with a mocking smile, “the side effects aren’t mine to bear. But you might want to start working harder to make more money, sis.” “What do you mean by that?” I lunged forward to stop her from closing the door. But she slammed it shut with brute force. The heavy security door clamped hard onto my hand, forcing me to pull back in pain.

Standing outside the locked door, I could hear Dad asking from inside what happened. “Nothing, Dad. Hazel was just trying to threaten me into giving her gold, but I refused.” Then came Dad’s loud curses through the door. I didn’t want to listen anymore. Over the next few days, I went to work as usual. The gold market was booming, the charts were entirely green, and everyone was celebrating the gold bull run. During a break, I habitually opened my gold investment app to see how much my portfolio had grown. But the moment I saw my balance, my blood ran cold. I was down fifty grams. I rubbed my eyes, thinking I was hallucinating. The market was skyrocketing. Even if I had made some terrible mistake, the total value might fluctuate, but how could the physical weight of my holdings just vanish? I immediately opened the transaction history. My hands began to shake. The log showed that just ten minutes ago, a “sell” order had been executed. Fifty grams of gold had been liquidated, and the funds had been transferred to an unfamiliar intermediary account, disappearing without a trace. “This is impossible. I was in a meeting ten minutes ago! My phone was in my purse the whole time!” I immediately called customer support. “Hi, I need to report unauthorized transactions! My account just had fifty grams of gold liquidated without my consent! This has to be a system glitch or a hack!” The representative’s voice was calm and professional. “Ma’am, we have verified the transaction logs. The trade was executed from your registered device and passed both your transaction password and face recognition verification. From our end, this was a authorized transaction. There is no system error.” “But I didn’t do it! I swear!” “I want to file a complaint! Your security is flawed!” I was on the verge of tears. “Ma’am, if you believe your identity has been stolen, we highly recommend you file a police report. We will cooperate with the investigation. We will get back to you within three business days.” As I hung up, a chill ran down my spine. My registered device? Facial recognition? This was insane. Distracted and terrified, I couldn’t focus on work anymore. To calm my nerves, I aimlessly opened TikTok. Right at the top of my feed was Chloe’s live stream. The caption screamed in bold letters: **”GRATEFUL FAN DAY! SELECTING LUCKY WINNERS FOR LIVE GOLD MANIFESTATION!”** Hoping to see what kind of game she was playing, I tapped in. On screen, Chloe was wearing an elaborate, expensive outfit, sitting in the middle of our living room. “Guys, the gifts you’re sending are insane! To show my appreciation, I’m going to pick a lucky viewer right now and manifest some gold straight into their investment account! Who wants to go first?” The chat was flying by. Soon, she connected via video call with an ecstatic male fan. “Oh my god, Chloe! I only have ten grams of gold in my account. Can you really make it grow?” Chloe gave a sweet smile to the camera. “Of course. Watch closely, everyone. Time to witness a miracle.” She pointed her slender index finger toward the screen and whispered, “Manifest!” In the next second, the fan screamed. “What the hell?! Oh my god! It actually worked! I just got an extra fifty grams! Fifty grams of gold out of nowhere! Chloe, are you a literal goddess?!” I sat frozen. Because at that exact moment, a push notification popped up on my phone. *Your gold investment account has successfully liquidated 50g of gold.* Before I could even process this bizarre “synchronized debiting,” my phone rang. It was an unknown number. It was the medical center where I had my annual company checkup. “Hello, Miss Hazel. Your lab results from last week are in. We detected a nodule on your thyroid. While it currently appears to be a benign tumor, we highly recommend you schedule a follow-up immediately to monitor it and ensure it doesn’t spread.” A sudden realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. I looked at Chloe’s smug, triumphant face on the screen, and then down at the debit notification from my bank. So that was it! There was no such thing as the Midas touch, and no wealth was being created out of thin air. I grabbed my car keys and bolted out of the office. I started the engine and slammed my foot on the gas pedal. I had to hurry. I had to get to that place immediately! Only there could I solve this nightmare. While waiting at a red light, I mounted my phone on the dashboard. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her stream had reached number one on the platform. Chloe’s face was flushed with excitement as digital gifts flooded her screen. “Guys, fifty grams was just the appetizer! To thank our top gifter for sending one hundred TikTok Universes, I’m going to do something massive!” “Next, I’ll select a few super-lucky winners to manifest fifty pounds of gold! Who’s ready for the challenge?!” The chat went absolutely feral. The comments were moving so fast they were a blur. A wave of disgust washed over me. I pulled over, tapped on the chat, and quickly typed a message: *【Manifesting gold? Chloe, stop lying. I know exactly what you’ve been doing.】*

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I was born with a curse: a ten-fold pain-empathy link with my twin sister, Roxy. Any injury she got, the pain would hit my body ten times worse. Growing up, Roxy became a notorious rebel in our neighborhood. Getting into street fights and skipping school was just a Tuesday for her. She didn’t care. She knew that she wouldn’t feel a thing. I was the one who would scream in agony, not her. Our parents completely ignored this. Instead, they blamed me for being “too weak,” saying my constant whining held Roxy back from reaching her full potential. To force me to give up my Ivy League early admission spot to her, Roxy took a utility knife and slowly sliced her own arm right in front of me. As I collapsed onto the floor, twitching and foaming at the mouth from the unbearable agony, my family just stood there, watching coldly. My dad even flicked his cigarette and said, “Stop faking it. Sign the waiver already.” Later, Roxy decided to stage an accident with a speeding luxury car to extort some quick cash. When the massive impact hit her, my heart instantly stopped. But the moment I drew my last breath, my sister—the girl who was incapable of feeling pain—suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream.

Roxy was the older twin. I was Hope, the younger one. Since the day we were born, God had played a sick joke on us. Any physical harm Roxy endured would register in my nervous system with ten times the intensity. And she felt absolutely nothing. She had congenital insensitivity to pain. Right now, I was curled up on the hardwood floor like a dying shrimp, my entire body convulsing violently. The pain was so intense that my throat could only produce a dry, rattling gasp. Through my blurry vision, I saw Roxy sitting on the sofa, casually spinning a shiny utility knife between her fingers. She had that bored, mocking smile on her face. Then, she pressed the blade against her pale forearm and dragged it down. *Screeech.* The sound of flesh tearing open. “Ahhh!” The scream didn’t come from her. It came from me. In that instant, it felt like a power drill was boring straight into my bone marrow. My very soul was being shredded. I foamed at the mouth, my limbs flailing uncontrollably as my fingernails clawed at the floor, leaving bloody streaks. “Hope, that’s enough. Get up,” my dad, Harold, said from his armchair. He looked annoyed as he tapped the ash off his cigarette. A speck of glowing, hot ash fell right onto the back of my hand. *Sizzle.* Another red burn mark. My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets from the shock. I stared at him, desperately trying to beg for help. *Dad, please. Save me.* But no words came out. Only tears and drool smeared across my face. My mom, Linda, was peeling an apple for Roxy. She didn’t even look at me. “Roxy, honey, why do you have to hurt yourself over this?” Linda sighed. Roxy pouted like a spoiled brat. “It’s Hope’s fault! She won’t sign over her Ivy League admission spot to me! Mom, I don’t want to take the SATs. It’s too hard.” “Since she’s the younger sister, isn’t it her job to help me out? She should carry my academic stress.” As she spoke, a flash of pure malice crossed Roxy’s eyes. She pressed the knife deeper. This time, the cut went straight to the bone. “Arghhh—!!!” My heart seized. It felt like an invisible hand was squeezing it until it popped. The pain went far beyond what a human body could tolerate. My spine arched rigidly, and then I crashed heavily back onto the floor. My vision went pitch black, and the voices in the room started sounding distant, like they were underwater. Linda walked over and kicked my head with the toe of her slipper. “Cut the drama, Hope. You’ve been pulling this stunt since we were kids. Aren’t you tired of it?” “Look at you, acting like a corpse. You don’t have a single drop of your sister’s courage.” “Roxy is bleeding so much and she hasn’t made a sound. You don’t even have a scratch on you, yet you’re squealing like a pig.” Right. Ever since we were kids, because I was always the one crying in pain, they saw me as a dramatic, attention-seeking loser. Meanwhile, Roxy, who couldn’t feel pain, got into gang fights and caused trouble, but they praised her for being “tough” and “a fighter.” They forgot that I was the one paying the price for her “toughness.” Harold blew out a cloud of smoke, his cold face hidden behind the gray haze. “Stop playing dead. Sign the paper.” “Once you sign it, we’ll take your sister to get stitches, and your ‘pain’ will stop.” I tried to raise my hand to tell them that I couldn’t breathe. My heart was beating in a wild, chaotic rhythm, like a machine breaking down. Then came the final, massive surge of neural shock. *Snap.* It felt like a wire snapped in my brain. My eyes stared blankly at the ceiling fan, my pupils dilating. My body remained twisted on the floor, completely still. Seeing that I wasn’t moving, Roxy walked over impatiently. She smeared some of the blood from her arm onto my cheek and shoved the pen into my stiff hand. “Hey, wake up. Sign it so I can go to the ER, and you can stop crying.” The pen slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the floor. My arm fell limp, like a puppet with its strings cut. I was completely gone. My soul floated up to the ceiling, watching this absurd scene unfold. I was dead. I died in the heat of a summer evening at eighteen, while my own family watched with cold indifference.

Seeing that I wouldn’t hold the pen, Roxy kicked me in the ribs out of frustration. “Mom! Look at Hope! She’s still throwing a tantrum!” Linda walked over and looked down at me. My wide-open, lifeless eyes were staring right back at her. She frowned. There was no panic on her face—only disgust. “This girl has such a nasty temper. She really thinks she can blackmail us by pretending to pass out?” “Ignore her. Starve her for a couple of meals, and she’ll crawl back.” Harold was even more direct. He grabbed me by my shirt and dragged me onto my bed. Then, he picked up the pen from the floor and forged my signature on the Ivy League waiver. “There. The spot is yours now,” Harold said, handing the paper to Roxy. “Was this tiny thing really worth cutting yourself so many times?” Looking at the signed document, Roxy jumped up and down in excitement. She didn’t care about the blood dripping down her arm. “Thank you, Dad! I knew you loved me best!” She grabbed a random band-aid from the counter and slapped it over the deep gash. The blood quickly soaked through the adhesive, but she didn’t care. It didn’t hurt anyway. “To celebrate our Roxy getting into the Ivy League, let’s order a feast!” Linda declared, immediately ordering the most expensive seafood delivery on her phone. Half an hour later. The food arrived. The dining table was piled high with King crab legs, lobsters, and oysters. The table was in the living room. Less than ten feet away from my dead body. I floated above them, watching them stuff their faces. The heavy, fishy smell of the seafood filled the air, slowly mixing with the faint, sweet scent of decay starting to rise from my corpse. Roxy ate greedily, her lips slick with butter. She cracked open a lobster claw and casually tossed the sharp shell backward. *Clack.* The shell landed right on my face, catching on my eyelashes. It was a sick, ironic sight. “Hey, Hope, stop faking.” “Get up and clean this trash. Don’t think you can skip your chores just by lying there.” I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Linda peeled a piece of crab meat and fed it to Roxy. “Don’t worry about that useless girl. Just looking at her ruins my appetite.” “Our Roxy is the one with real guts. She knows how to be ruthless to get what she wants.” “Once you go to college, you’re going to do great things.” Harold drank his beer, his face flushing red from the alcohol. He pointed a finger toward my bed. “We spoiled her too much. ‘Pain empathy’? It’s probably just a mental illness. She just wanted attention.” “Look at Roxy. She bleeds and doesn’t cry. That’s what a leader looks like.” They kept eating, laughing, and planning Roxy’s bright future. Not once did anyone walk over to check if I was breathing. If they had just bent down, they might have realized I could still have been saved. But they didn’t. They truly believed I was just playing a game, silent-treating them. After finishing her meal, Roxy let out a loud burp. She looked toward my bed and suddenly found it annoying. “Mom, the way she’s lying there is creepy. Her eyes are wide open. It’s bad luck.” Linda stood up. She went to the kitchen drawer, pulled out an old, stained tablecloth, and walked over. Like throwing a tarp over a pile of garbage, she threw it over my head. “Out of sight, out of mind.” “She sleeps on the floor tonight. Nobody give her a blanket. Let’s see how long she can keep up this act.” A dirty tablecloth. It covered my unblinking, dead eyes. And it covered the last shred of humanity in this house. My soul shivered in the air. Not from the cold, but from the absolute, freezing realization of how little I meant to them.

The night went on. The AC in the living room was set to a freezing sixty degrees. This sped up my rigor mortis. Before going to her room, Roxy walked past me. On a petty whim, she stomped heavily on my stomach through the tablecloth. “Clean the floor tomorrow. It’s covered in my blood. It’s disgusting.” It was a heavy stomp. But I felt nothing. Instead, my stiffened, cold body bruised her foot. She muttered, “Stiff as a rock. You and your garbage attitude.” The next morning. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, illuminating the shape under the tablecloth. Roxy woke up feeling refreshed. When she walked out, she saw I was still in the exact same spot. She marched over and snatched the tablecloth away. My face had already turned a ghastly shades of blue and purple. The dried white foam on my lips had turned crusty. Roxy froze for a second, then burst into a mocking laugh. “Wow, Hope. You really went all out to scare me.” “Who did you do this zombie makeup for? You should have gone to film school instead.” She actually thought it was makeup. She kicked my stiff arm with her sneaker. “Alright, cut it out. I’m going to school. Make sure you wash my sneakers today.” She threw the tablecloth back over my face and hummed a tune as she walked out the door. I floated out right behind her. At school, Roxy was on top of the world. She showed off the forged Ivy League admission letter to everyone in her class. “Well, some people can study all they want, but the spot still belongs to me in the end,” she bragged. A few girls who always disliked her rolled their eyes. “Stealing your own sister’s spot. You’re disgusting, Roxy.” Roxy’s face twisted in rage. She lunged forward and slapped the girl hard across the face. *Smack!* It was loud and clear. The girl was stunned for a second, but then she lost it. She grabbed Roxy’s arm, digging her long acrylic nails deep into Roxy’s flesh. If this were yesterday, I would be rolling on the floor in a corner of the school, screaming in agony. Because all that pain would have hit me. But today, I was dead. Roxy looked down at the nails sinking into her arm, and a bizarre, twisted thrill washed over her face. She felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. “Is that all you got?” Roxy laughed mockingly. She grabbed the girl by her hair and slammed her head against the desk. The sheer brutality of her attack terrified everyone in the room. Because she feared no pain, she had no limits. “I am invincible!” Roxy laughed like a psychopath as she beat the girl bloody. The principal was called, and so were the parents. Linda rushed to the school. But instead of apologizing, she screamed at the victim’s family in the office. “Your daughter started it! My girl was just defending herself!” “My daughter is gifted! She’s physically resilient, unlike your fragile little brat who cries over a scratch!” The principal pointed at the security footage. “Mrs. Miller, your daughter was incredibly violent…” “That’s because she’s brave! She’s tough!” Linda said proudly. “Unlike her useless sister, who is a spineless coward.” Mentioning me made Linda remember that she needed me to sign some paperwork at the school to finalize the admission transfer. She pulled out her phone and called me. *Ring… Ring… Ring…* The phone rang, but it was just vibrating on the coffee table back in our living room. Nobody answered. “That little bitch. Still throwing a tantrum,” Linda muttered, hanging up. “Just wait until I get home. I’ll teach her a lesson.” Watching this from the ceiling, I found it hilarious. While they were defending a monster, they didn’t miss a single chance to insult their dead child. They even mistook the silence of a corpse for rebellion.

That evening, Roxy and Linda returned home. I followed them inside. My body was still lying in the corner of the living room, covered by the dirty tablecloth. It had been over twenty-four hours now. A faint, sickly odor was starting to creep through the apartment. But Linda had cooked a greasy, heavily-spiced garlic pasta for dinner, and the strong aroma masked the smell of my decay. Roxy took a screenshot of a new designer bag and sent it to the family group chat. “Dad, Mom, I want this bag as a reward for getting into the Ivy League.” Harold looked at the price tag. Three thousand dollars. He frowned. “We just paid the ‘donation’ fee for your admission. Things are a bit tight right now.” Roxy immediately threw a tantrum, kicking the chair. “I don’t care! I want it! All the other Ivy League kids have nice things!” Linda tried to soothe her. “Sweetie, can we buy it next month?” Roxy’s eyes darted around, and a sinister idea popped into her head. “Mom, Dad, you know how those rich kids drive like maniacs in the wealthy suburbs near the hills?” “Since I don’t feel pain anyway, what if I stage an accident?” She grinned excitedly. “I just need to find a street with no cameras, wait for a sports car, and let it clip me.” “Those rich snobs are terrified of lawsuits. They’ll offer a quick cash settlement to keep it quiet. We could get tens of thousands of dollars easily!” My soul shuddered. Was this a family, or a pack of demons? She talked about committing insurance fraud as casually as ordering takeout. But what was worse was my parents’ reaction. Harold took a drag from his cigarette and actually nodded. “It’s risky, but doable. Just make sure you pick the right spot so you don’t end up paralyzed.” Linda looked slightly worried. “What if you get a nasty scar? You’re a girl, you shouldn’t have scars on your skin.” Roxy cast a disdainful glance at the shape under the tablecloth in the corner. “Why should I worry?” “If my skin gets ruined, we’ll just have the doctors graft some of Hope’s skin onto me.” “She’s a useless loser anyway. Her skin is perfectly fine. It would be a waste not to use it.” “And if my kidney gets damaged, we’ll just take one of hers.” “I’m the older sister. Why shouldn’t she sacrifice a little for me?” Harold nodded, exhaling a thick ring of smoke. “True. We’ve fed and housed her for eighteen years. It’s about time she made herself useful.” Linda smiled, relieved. “Alright, then it’s settled. Just protect your face.” They sat around the table, happily discussing the details of the insurance scam. They completely forgot that their “living organ bank” was already a decomposing corpse. After dinner, Roxy was in great spirits. She walked over to the corner and kicked my body hard. “Hey, did you hear that?” “Be ready to go to the hospital and give me your skin when the time comes.” “Stop playing dead, you hear me?” Of course, there was no reply. Only a dull, heavy thud as her foot hit my stiffening leg. Roxy sneered. “Fucking pig. She sleeps like she’s dead.” She turned around and walked out the door to carry out her grand plan. Watching her leave, my soul felt a surge of anticipation. Roxy chose a quiet intersection in the wealthy part of town. There were no traffic cameras, and it was a popular spot for rich college kids to drag race their sports cars. She hid behind the bushes, waiting like a predator. I floated in the air above her, silently waiting for the show to start. Soon, the loud roar of an engine echoed in the distance. A bright red Ferrari came speeding down the road like a flash of lightning. A greedy spark lit up Roxy’s eyes. She took a deep breath, calculating the distance. She just needed a minor hit, a little roll on the asphalt, and a broken bone or two. The settlement money would fly into her pockets. After all, Hope would be the one feeling the agony. Hope would be the one suffering through the broken bones. She was used to it. For eighteen years, she had abused this link. From getting vaccines to breaking bones, she had never shed a single tear. Because every ounce of pain was instantly transferred to her weak, pathetic sister. The car was close! Roxy jumped out of the bushes straight into the lane! *SCREECH—!!!* The sound of burning rubber sliced through the night as the Ferrari slammed on its brakes, leaving long black skid marks. But the car was going too fast. It couldn’t stop in time. *BANG!* A horrific crash. Roxy was thrown into the air like a ragdoll, spinning twice before slamming hard onto the asphalt.

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