Category: English

The night air bit into my skin as I looked up. “Alice.” Alpha Mike’s tone was clipped, cold, a blade meant to wound. “You’re weak. I cannot have weakness beside me. I, Alpha Mike, reject you.” My heart dropped. “You’re rejecting me? Just… just because I haven’t—” “Because you’re no wolf.” His eyes held no mercy. “You’re a liability.” Around us, whispers bega “Did she really think the Alpha would keep her?” “She’s a disgrace.” My father stood in the crowd, face blank, but I could see it—disappointment, etched like stone. I took a shaky breath, reaching out to her. “Mom… please—” He looked away, lips pressed tight. “Alice,” “you’ve made your bed. Now lie in it.” Tears pricked my eyes. He turned her back, his voice low. “Your new mate will be arranged by morning. Don’t make this harder.” “Moon Goddess, why? Why did you curse me like this?” I’m willing to go back and get married,” I murmured, almost too quietly to hear. “You—” My father began, half-hearted words of persuasion on his lips. “You… agreed?” “Yes, I agreed.” “That’s wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!” “I’ve been saying it all along—you should have agreed sooner! Alpha Nicola is a good match; he doesn’t mind that you haven’t shifted, and he respects you! And not to mention, his pack is only growing stronger…” I closed my eyes halfway, cutting him off with a weary sigh. “Dad, I’m tired.” I wasn’t sure how long I’d been lying there when footsteps sounded outside my door. The birthday girl, Ella, burst in, grinning ear to ear and balancing a slice of cake in her hand. She wore a sparkling gold crown, glinting like something out of a fairytale, giving her the air of a little princess. “Alice, come downstairs and join us!” she said, her voice dripping with cheer. I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I’m not feeling great. You all go ahead—enjoy yourselves.” Ella’s eyes filling with tears. “Alice… do you… not like me? Is that why… why you never come and celebrate with us?” Here we go again. Playing the innocent, fragile girl who’s somehow always a victim. And of course, all the guys just eat it up. “Drop the act, Ella,” “I’m not coming. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She strolled to the door, but instead of leaving, she turned back with a smug look. “Alice, Alpha Mike ’s going to announce me as his Luna. I guess a weak, wolf-less girl like you should be happy with her place… rotting in the shadows.” She lifted the slice of cake in her hand and hurled it toward me. Instinctively, I raised my arm to block it, but to my shock, she stumbled back, falling with a loud thud. “Ella, what are you trying to pull?” I hissed, my voice low and filled with disbelief. Though I managed to block it in time, the cake still splattered across me, leaving me standing there, humiliated and disheveled. My sister, Ella, lay sprawled on the floor, a faint smile playing on her lips. Then, as if on cue, her eyes welled up with tears, spilling down her cheeks, painting her face with the perfect picture of innocence and betrayal. And just like that, an enraged howl tore through the hallway. “Alice!”

Two men charged up the stairs, their footsteps echoing down the hall. One rushed to Ella’s side, helping her up as she lay on the floor, while the other placed himself between us, his gaze fixed on me with barely contained rage. “Alice, what were you thinking? How could you be so cruel?” Alpha Mike’s voice was low and seething as he pulled Ella into his arms, gently massaging her back. “Are you hurt, Ella? Tell me you’re okay.” Ella looked up at him, her face pale and trembling, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine, Alpha Mike. Don’t be mad at Alice… I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” She sniffled, tears shimmering in her eyes, her voice filled with feigned innocence. I scoffed, a cold smile tugging at my lips. “I didn’t do anything,”Mathew, who had been standing in front of them. “Alice, this is too far.” “I told you, it wasn’t me,” I said sharply, turning to leave. The sticky mess of cake smeared across me was as disgusting as the whole scene itself. But before I could step past them, Mathew blocked my path. “Apologize, Alice. Apologize to Ella,” “Apologize?” I asked, incredulous. “For what? I told you, it wasn’t me!” Ella’s soft voice cut in from behind him. “Please, Alpha Mike… don’t be angry with Alice. I’m sure she didn’t mean to… to push me.” She cast a quick, sidelong glance at me, a hint of triumph flickering behind her teary eyes. “Do you see this, Alice? Look at her—she’s willing to forgive you, even after what you did. She’s still defending you!” “Are you done?” I turned and walked back into my room, shutting the door firmly behind me. Outside, I heard Alpha Mike’s frustrated growl, followed by a hard thud as he punched the wall in anger. “Who does she think she is?” he spat. But when he looked down at Ella, the anger melting into something sickeningly tender. “Ella, don’t let this spoil your night. Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll take you somewhere special. It’s your birthday, after all. No tears, okay?” Ella nuzzled into his embrace, wiping her tears on his shirt as she flashed me one last victorious glance through the crack in the door. “I won’t cry anymore, Alpha Mike. Not if you’re with me.” Behind the locked door, I sank against the wall. Once, I was the one they took care of—the one they trusted unconditionally, the one they vowed to protect. Growing up in Flowerland, I was fragile, a child plagued by severe allergies and a weakened immune system. The fields of wildflowers that blanketed my home city were beautiful to most, but to me, they were a storm of allergens that would leave me breathless and feverish if I dared step outside without medicine. When I was six, a severe allergic reaction nearly took my life, and my parents, heartbroken but resolute, sent me to live in the colder, flowerless Rivermoon pack with my grandparents. The change in climate gave me a break from the constant risk, and it was there that I met two boys in the small, tight-knit pack that shared our neighborhood: Alpha Mike and Mathew. The three of us were inseparable. They would swear time and time again to be my protectors, promising to make me their “princess,” saying they’d care for me for the rest of my life. When my grandparents passed away a few years later, Mike and Mathew took turns bringing me meals, memorizing every single allergen that could hurt me. In time, they knew my weaknesses even better than I did. As I grew older, my mother began urging me to return to the main pack, convinced I was strong enough to handle it. But I stayed, lingering in the warmth and care of my two closest. I’d begun to feel the stirrings of something deeper between Mike and me, a pull stronger than any friendship—a mate bond. But when did everything begin to unravel?

Everything changed the moment Ella arrived. I was sixteen when my father’s betrayal was exposed, and I had no choice but to move with him to the Riverland Pack, where he’d begun his new life. My half-sister Ella arrived not long after with her mother, my new stepmother. Ella knew just when to lean in, tilt her head, and soften her voice, using her helplessness like a weapon to draw men toward her. Where I was proud and unyielding, Ella made weakness an art form, the kind that could make every male around her feel like they were her knight in shining armor. When she arrived, Alpha Mike and Mathew, the two people I’d thought would stand by me no matter what, looked out for her at first only out of obligation. She was, after all, my sister. But once Ella had gained a foothold, she turned everything into a game I never realized I was losing until it was too late. One evening, I discovered she’d added both of them on WhatsApp, claiming it was to help her manage my needs more easily. But what had been a thread connecting us quickly became a chain tying them to her. Soon, it was no longer our bond of three—but hers. It wasn’t long before I began noticing the whispers, the glances. My connection with Mike grew strained as Ella found ways to insert herself deeper into his world. She didn’t shift yet, but it didn’t matter—her human form was enough to pull him under her spell, leaving me out in the cold. And Mathew, who had once promised to protect me, was swept up in her orbit, too, laughing at her jokes, defending her. Mike had always been impulsive, drawn to extreme sports like a moth to a flame. I’d warned him countless times, but he’d just chuckle and say, “Oh come on, life is too short! Just let me do what I love!” Yet now, for Ella’s sake, he hadn’t touched any extreme sports in six months, all because of a single word from her. On the other hand, Mathew, usually calm and reserved, had taken a surprising turn as well. He never liked crowds and preferred quiet evenings alone. But now, he was the one who insisted on hosting a big birthday party for Ella at our family villa. Mike’s pov I’ve known since I turned sixteen that Alice is my mate, but it feels wrong. She doesn’t even have a wolf. “How can someone so weak become a Luna?” I thought bitterly. “Alice is beautiful, you know,” Mathew said, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Yeah, beautiful enough to drive me crazy,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair. “All the guys in the pack want her—not as a mate, just for fun.” “It infuriates you, huh?” Mathew chuckled. “But she doesn’t even have a wolf.” “Exactly! When we turn twelve, we hear our wolves, but she’s never heard hers. They say she’s cursed,” I replied, frustration bubbling. “No one wants a cursed mate.” “So why not just go for Ella?” Mathew suggested, raising an eyebrow. “She’s easier to be with.” “Ella? Please. She’s not half as captivating as Alice,” I shot back. “But yeah, I’m with Ella. It’s simpler.” “Right, but you’re still pining after Alice,” Mathew pointed out. “You want her as your mistress, not your Luna.” “I can’t help it!” Alice’s pov My father’s choice for an arranged marriage must have been carefully selected, and honestly, that was fine by me. My phone buzzed. “Alice, why haven’t you liked my latest post?” Ella’s message popped up. She was in a lavish princess dress, flanked by Mathew and Alpha Mike. “Look at me, the perfect princess,” I muttered under my breath. I knew she posted it to annoy me. Normally, I might feel upset, but not today. I quickly tapped the like button. “There, happy now?” As for what the three of them thought? That was no longer my concern.

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I’m an ordinary working-class woman, living in a small town and raising a family. When my daughter turned thirteen, I found out that she was actually the only daughter of the Johnson Corporation’s CEO. Years ago, there had been a mix-up at the hospital, and my biological daughter had been raised by the Johnson family. I didn’t hesitate. I immediately brought my real daughter home. I didn’t want the confusion over their identities to torment them for the rest of their lives, nor did I want them to be caught in lifelong resentment and hatred. Both girls are my daughters, and I love them equally. Madison, the girl raised by mistake, had lived with me for thirteen years. We were incredibly close—mother and daughter, friends, even best friends. She never hid anything from me. We watched TV shows together, read novels, played video games, and attended comic conventions side by side. Once, while sitting on the couch watching a soap opera about a mix-up between an heiress and an imposter, Madison asked me, “Why can’t they just get along? Why do they have to fight to the bitter end? The lady treats both of them so well.” “Probably because the script demands it,” I shrugged. “The more dramatic it is, the higher the ratings.” We never imagined that this storyline would become Madison’s reality. Mr. Johnson called me to tell me that Madison was his biological daughter and that he wanted to take her back to the Johnson family. I was stunned, and so was Madison. She said it had to be a scam and refused to go. But after looking at the DNA test results sent by the Johnson family, I knew they wouldn’t joke about something like this. Eventually, the Johnson family came to take Madison. A Rolls-Royce pulled up outside our old apartment building, drawing the attention of everyone in the neighborhood. Madison was nervous and uneasy; she was about to meet the parents she had never known. My husband and I stood downstairs with her as they arrived. I asked the person picking her up, “Can I go with Madison to the Johnson home?” The person hesitated and called Mrs. Johnson. “You may,” Mrs. Johnson replied. Madison visibly relaxed, clearly happy that I was coming along. We took the Rolls-Royce to the airport. The Johnson family didn’t live in this small town; they were based in San Francisco. On the private plane they’d arranged, Madison was ecstatic. It was her first time flying, and she spent the entire flight gazing out the window at the clouds, exclaiming, “Mom, it’s so beautiful!” Watching her excitement stirred complicated feelings within me. I didn’t know whether this swap of identities would be a blessing or a curse for both Madison and my biological daughter, Savannah. Yes, my real daughter was Savannah Johnson. I had come to the Johnson family partly to support Madison but also to bring my biological daughter, Savannah, back home. When we arrived in San Francisco, I was flooded with emotions. Years ago, when my husband and I visited San Francisco, I’d gone into early labor at a hospital here. That’s when Madison and Savannah were mistakenly switched, sending them down different paths for the first thirteen years of their lives. The Johnson mansion was opulent, with a pool, gardens, and a gym. Everything Madison had never known was now hers. Everything Savannah had grown used to was no longer hers. I wondered how these two girls would handle the stark contrast between their lives. Mrs. Johnson stood before me, stunning and impeccably groomed, with an air of grace and elegance. “Thank you for taking such good care of Madison for the past thirteen years,” she said, hugging Madison close, unable to look away from her. Standing next to her was a young girl, whom I guessed was Savannah—my biological daughter. She resembled me, but her expression was troubled, her eyes unreadable. I stepped forward and embraced her. She resisted at first, but in the end, didn’t pull away. I gently stroked her cheek and said to Mrs. Johnson, “Thank you for taking care of my daughter for these past thirteen years. She’s beautiful, and she looks a lot like me.” “I’m planning to catch the evening flight back to Cedarville with Savannah,” I added. “We’re on a tight schedule, so we’ll head out.” For a moment, no one spoke. Mrs. Johnson, Savannah, and Madison all remained silent. After a while, Mrs. Johnson finally said, “I love Savannah. She’s my daughter too. She can stay here with Madison if she wants.” Savannah visibly stiffened and swayed slightly. “Mom,” Madison and Savannah both called out, though Madison was speaking to me and Savannah to Mrs. Johnson. Savannah was the first to speak up. “Mom, I’m going back with my mom.” “Don’t overthink it, Savannah. You’ll always be my daughter. You can stay,” Mrs. Johnson urged, her affection for Savannah evident. I smiled. “Savannah is my daughter too. I haven’t seen her for thirteen years, and I’ve missed her dearly.” The Johnsons were a wealthy family, offering a world of resources and status that I could never give to either Savannah or Madison. Mrs. Johnson was kind and loved both girls deeply. But I knew that Madison returning to the Johnson family and Savannah coming home with me was the best decision for both of them. I couldn’t irresponsibly leave my biological daughter behind, nor could I selfishly keep Madison, ruining her future. “As mothers, we both love our children. I hope you understand,” I said. Mrs. Johnson didn’t argue further and agreed. Before we left, I told Madison she was welcome to visit us anytime she missed me or my husband. Mrs. Johnson also assured Savannah that she would always love her and that the Johnson home would always be open to her. That night, Savannah and I boarded the plane back to Cedarville.

On the flight, Savannah remained silent, and so did I. I could tell she was struggling. Her first thirteen years had been secure, comfortable, and privileged. Mr. and Mrs. Johnson had treated her like the apple of their eye. Now, she had been told that everything she knew was a lie, and that I was her real mother. Anyone would have a hard time accepting that. As I stared out at the dark clouds, I wondered how I could help her come to terms with everything and build a relationship with her. By the time we landed in Cedarville, it was late at night. Both of us were hungry, so I suggested we grab a bite to eat before heading home. She nodded in agreement. I knew of a little diner at the intersection of two streets downtown that served great food. The alleyways in Cedarville were narrow and tricky to navigate—only locals really knew how to find this place. Even though Cedarville wasn’t as bustling as San Francisco, it had its own charm, with bright lights filling the night sky. Savannah had never been to a place like this. Though she didn’t say much, I could see her excitement in her wide-eyed curiosity. Her eyes gleamed as they reflected the lively scene around us—the food carts passing by, the small, low stools and chairs, and the simple disposable utensils wrapped in cheap napkins. I pulled her toward a little diner that sold burgers and hotdogs, the one I frequented. “Do you like spicy food?” I asked Savannah. She shook her head. “Hey, Mike,” I called to the owner. “Two large mac and cheese, one with spice and one without.” “Got it,” Mike replied. “And two bottles of Coke, right?” I added. Savannah gave me a surprised look. It was late in the fall, and she hadn’t expected me to order iced drinks. Not long after, two steaming plates of mac and cheese arrived, along with two cold bottles of Coca-Cola. I grabbed a bottle opener and expertly popped the caps off both sodas. “How did you do that?” Savannah asked, clearly impressed. She hadn’t learned how to open glass bottles yet. I laughed and called out, “Mike, bring two more Cokes!” I picked up the opener again. “Watch closely.” I popped another cap off with a quick flick. “Here, your turn,” I said, handing her the opener. Savannah hesitated before taking it. She tried twice but couldn’t quite get the cap off. “You’ve got to hook the lip of the opener under the cap,” I explained, guiding her hand, “and then use a bit of force.” With a pop, the bottle opened. Savannah looked up at me, pleased, but the joy quickly faded, and she dropped her gaze again. I knew she still harbored resentment toward me, still uneasy about my decision to bring her home. I sighed. “I know you’re struggling to accept me as your mother, and you’re upset that I took you away from the Johnsons.” Savannah gripped her Coke bottle, then relaxed her hold. Her reaction didn’t surprise me; I expected her to feel this way. “When Mrs. Johnson asked if you could stay, why didn’t you agree?” “I didn’t want to make Mom feel awkward,” she whispered softly, still calling Mrs. Johnson “Mom.” I took a sip of my Coke, the cold liquid refreshing. “Savannah, in this situation, staying with the Johnsons would have made things uncomfortable for you.” “No, it wouldn’t,” she said firmly. I didn’t push the issue further. “Eat up. The food won’t taste as good once it gets cold.” I picked up my fork and dug into the mac and cheese. It was delicious—neither too greasy nor too dry, just right. Savannah eyed the simple plates and utensils, hesitating, but then took her first bite. After swallowing, her expression shifted to surprise, and she continued eating. “Tastes better than you thought, huh?” I laughed. “Sometimes, you don’t know what you like until you give it a try,” I said, watching her with a smile. We were both starving from the long day, and soon, we’d finished two large plates of mac and cheese and four bottles of Coke. To be precise, Savannah had one bottle, and I drank the other three out of a sense of not wanting to waste them. Savannah watched me drink the last of the soda and then remarked, “You’re really different from Mrs. Johnson.” I chuckled. “Oh, you’ll see. There are plenty more differences.” After dinner, we walked home. It was dark, with only the faint yellow glow from the streetlights guiding our way. Savannah pulled her suitcase behind her, keeping her distance from me. We trudged along in silence, step by step, until we finally reached our apartment complex. Our building was old, with six floors and no elevator. The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell barely worked. Savannah stared up at the dark, seemingly endless stairwell and shrank back a little. “Let me carry your suitcase for you,” I offered. She handed it over without protest, and I led her up the stairs to our apartment on the sixth floor. “Savannah, welcome home,” I said when we reached the door. She took a moment to glance around, though there wasn’t much to see in the dark. “That mac and cheese was really good,” she said out of nowhere. Then she added, “And the Coke was nice too.” I unlocked the door, one hand on Savannah’s shoulder as I pushed it open. “Welcome home,” I repeated.

Once inside, I found a pair of new slippers for Savannah, not wanting to give her Madison’s old ones. Our apartment was small, just three bedrooms and a living room. One room was mine and James’s, one had been Madison’s, and the other belonged to her younger sister, Emma, who was away at boarding school. Since Emma was rarely home, I decided Savannah could stay in her room for now. Madison’s room still had all of her things in it, and I didn’t want Savannah to feel uncomfortable seeing them. I’d get it ready for her tomorrow. “Savannah, this is your sister Emma’s room. You can sleep here tonight, and I’ll have your own room ready tomorrow,” I told her. “Okay,” she nodded. Savannah walked into the room and turned on the light. The space was small—tiny compared to her room at the Johnson mansion. There was a bed, a desk, a chair, a closet, and a simple bookshelf made from cheap materials. On the shelves were a few scattered children’s books, some school supplies, a worn-out dictionary, and an old English dictionary with frayed edges. Savannah frowned as she sat on the bed. I knew she felt awkward, unsure of how to adjust to her new surroundings. “Here’s a new set of pajamas for you,” I said, handing her a neatly folded pile of clothes. “The sheets are fresh too, so you don’t need to worry,” I added. “It’s not that, I just…I’m not used to it,” Savannah admitted quietly. “I understand,” I said, touching her hand gently. “Let me know if you need anything,” I said as I turned to leave. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” I said as I left the room, leaving the lights on. I kept the light in the living room on as well, in case she got up in the night and needed to find her way to the bathroom. That night, I lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. I was worried about how Savannah would handle the transition, and whether Madison was adjusting to life at the Johnson home. My mind raced, and I wasn’t sure when I finally fell asleep. The next morning, I was up by seven. Savannah had probably been exhausted from the previous day, so I didn’t wake her. Instead, I went about tidying up Madison’s old room, swapping out the sheets and packing away her figurines and collectibles. I noticed that Savannah’s suitcase had a Golden Retriever drawn on it, and her phone case also featured a Golden Retriever. Quietly, I made a note to pick up a Golden Retriever pillow for her later. After cleaning up Madison’s room, I prepared breakfast and left a note for Savannah on the table. I headed out to the farmer’s market, buying a fresh fish, some ribs, and a few vegetables. On my way back, I passed a new toy store and picked out a Golden Retriever stuffed animal and a matching pillow. When I returned home, Savannah had just woken up and was getting ready for the day. I set the breakfast on the coffee table: golden-brown donuts, rich and creamy soy milk, freshly sliced pickles, tofu covered in a tangy sauce, and steaming tea eggs. The smell of food filled the house. “Good morning,” Savannah said nervously. “Well, it’s not really morning anymore,” she added sheepishly. “I slept in too late.” “Come eat,” I said, placing a donut on her plate. “I love pairing pickles and tofu with donuts. I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but we can always switch it up if you don’t,” I told her. I stood up and asked, “Want some spicy kimchi or pickled veggies? I’ve also got vinegar and hot sauce in the kitchen.” “No, no, this is fine,” Savannah replied quickly. She sat up straight while eating, carefully holding her chopsticks, chewing silently, and maintaining an elegant posture, just like a princess. After breakfast, I went to wash the dishes, and Savannah hesitated, as if she wanted to help but didn’t know how to ask. “Savannah, could you help me dry the dishes after I wash them?” I asked. “Of course,” she said, rushing over. It was clear she wasn’t used to this kind of work, moving awkwardly as she dried the plates, but I patiently waited as she finished each one before handing her the next. “Savannah, how about grilled fish and barbecue ribs for lunch? I picked up some fresh fish at the market this morning.” “That sounds good,” she said. After we finished cleaning up, I took her hand and led her to her room. “I tidied up Madison’s old room earlier. Take a look and see if you need anything else,” I said. “Oh, and I got these for you,” I added, handing her the Golden Retriever stuffed animal and pillow. “Savannah, how about we put these on the bed?” I suggested. “Okay,” she nodded. I placed the plush toy and pillow on her bed. “There’s a new toy store near the market,” I explained, “I wasn’t sure what to get, so I picked these. Next time, let’s go together and pick out more of what you like.” I watched her nervously, hoping she’d like them. She gently touched the stuffed animal, and then, unexpectedly, tears began streaming down her face, soaking the soft fur of the Golden Retriever. I stood there silently, not knowing what to say, leaning against the wall. Savannah hugged the plush toy tightly. “Savannah?” I whispered softly. She broke down, crying uncontrollably. The sudden shift in her life had been too much for a thirteen-year-old to handle. She had been holding back her emotions for too long, ever since the DNA test results came out. I walked over and embraced her, gently stroking her back. This time, she didn’t resist and sobbed in my arms, her tears soaking my shirt. But they weren’t cold; they were warm, carrying the heat of her small body. “Mom,” Savannah finally cried out. “Mom, I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Savannah. I’m just so happy, so happy,” I said, holding her tightly. It felt like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us in that moment. “It feels like my first thirteen years were stolen from me,” Savannah choked out. “When I saw the DNA test, I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want it to be real.” “I know, sweetie, I know,” I said, brushing her hair. “This wasn’t your fault. I love you, and Mrs. Johnson loves you too.” She stayed in my arms, crying until she had no more strength left. I held her the entire time. Sometimes, you just need to cry it all out. Finally, Savannah calmed down. I handed her some tissues to wipe away her tears. “Now, do you think your room needs anything else?” I asked. “No, it’s fine,” Savannah said quietly. “Do you like any particular colors? Maybe we can change the bedding,” I offered. “Green,” she said after thinking for a moment. “A deeper green, like the color of tree leaves in the summer.” She pulled out her phone and showed me a picture. “Got it. I’ll make sure your bedding is that exact shade of green,” I smiled at her. Together, we changed the bedsheets and added a few potted flowers around the room. Savannah looked around, satisfied. “Not bad,” she said with a small smile. That afternoon, around five, Emma came home. Since she stayed at her school most of the time, she didn’t yet know about the mix-up between Savannah and Madison. As soon as she walked in, she called out, “Sis, sis!” “Emma, I need to tell you something,” I said. “What is it, Mom? Hurry, I want to hang out with my sister!” Emma said impatiently. “Madison is actually the only daughter of the Johnson family. Savannah is your real sister. They were switched at birth,” I explained. Emma stared at me, clearly confused. “What are you talking about, Mom? What Johnson family? What Savannah?” she asked, her face scrunching up. I told her the whole story, and from her expression, I could tell she understood. But she refused to accept it. “No, Mom, you’re lying! You’re lying to me! Madison is my real sister. We even have the same last name! She’s been my sister ever since I was born.” Emma shouted and ran to Savannah’s room. “Sis, sis!” she yelled, but when she saw Savannah instead of Madison, she cried out, “Who are you? You’re not my sister! Get out! Give me back my sister! Go back to your Johnson family!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295101”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic