Category: English

David and Linda Thompson doted on their daughter Emily as if she were the center of their world, but due to an accidental pregnancy, they had a son, Ryan. To make it up to me, they sent me to Phillips Exeter Academy, dressed me in designer clothes, and handed me everything I ever wanted. Ryan, on the other hand, only got my hand-me-downs. Everyone said I was the “rose that bloomed in the projects.” But I dragged my parents to court. If the accusation of neglecting their daughter was proven true, the one caught lying would die instantly. Everyone thought I was crazy, but only I knew the truth: they never needed me. They were always just a family of three. This is a world where every citizen can participate in trials online and vote on the verdict. In the public courtroom, I stood in a moon-white dress, my lips painted bright red, while my parents and younger brother sat beside me in their plain clothes. The contrast couldn’t have been more stark. The live stream comments were relentless in their insults: “Look at the plaintiff, all dressed up! There’s no way she’s being abused!” “I feel so bad for her parents. They can’t even afford decent clothes, yet they put their daughter through college, and now she’s turning on them?” People who knew my parents saw them as obsessed with me. Their Facebook posts were filled with pictures of me, showing off their pride and joy. They scrimped and saved to send me to a prestigious school like Phillips Exeter, while Ryan only went to Jefferson High School. Everyone called me the rose that bloomed in the projects. After I got into Stanford, I even won a National Merit Scholarship in my first semester. Everything I had was because of my parents. But according to the Supreme Constitutional Law, everyone is born equal. If a child suffers severe unfair treatment, they have the right to sue their family. If my claim turned out to be false, I would die instantly, and my organs would be donated. But if the gender bias was proven true, Ryan would die, and my parents would suffer endless misfortune. When they found out I was suing them, their faces were filled with shock. My father, David, furrowed his brow. “Emily, come back to us. There must be a misunderstanding, let’s talk this through. Don’t do anything extreme.” My mother, Linda, broke down crying. “Is it because your college expenses aren’t enough? I’ll find a way to earn more. Please, don’t risk your life! You’re the most important child we have!” The live stream audience started to feel sorry for them. “Oh man, I can’t handle seeing a mom cry. Can we just wrap this up and take down this ungrateful brat?” “I always knew spoiling girls would lead to trouble. This proves it!” I turned my head away, coldly, disgusted by the fake mask they wore. But it wouldn’t last long. “Judge, please proceed,” I said. Seeing that I insisted on going through with the trial, both of my parents’ faces flashed with unease. Suddenly, the mechanical voice of the judge silenced the crowd. “This trial will proceed by extracting six memory segments from both the plaintiff and the defendants at different stages of their lives. The jury will observe these memories from a third-person perspective and vote to determine guilt.”

The trial officially began. The first memory was projected onto the screen. It was the scene when Ryan was just born. My mom, Linda, still looked weak, while my dad, David, anxiously spoke to visiting relatives: “We never planned on having a second child. We only wanted to focus on Emily.” “But Linda had an unexpected pregnancy. By the time we found out, it was too late to have an abortion, so we had to have him.” Ryan was a premature baby and was rushed to the NICU after birth. After they brought him home, my mom made a tough decision and handed Ryan over to Grandpa John and Grandma Susan to raise. They had to work to make ends meet, so they took me—who was already in preschool—with them, while Ryan stayed with my grandparents as an infant. Even though we moved around a lot, I was happy because I stayed close to my parents. Whenever I’d stretch out my arms and yell, “Mommy, pick me up!” Linda would smile and scoop me up, snapping picture after picture of me to show off to everyone. “My precious daughter is a gift from heaven!” she would say. The live stream comments started to blow up: “Wait, gender bias? I think it’s the other way around!” “Ryan got left behind as a baby! How sad is that?” “Exactly, what kid wouldn’t want to be with their parents? Ryan got the short end of the stick.” At that moment, my mom wiped her tears and raised her hand. The judge’s cold, mechanical voice came through: “The defendants request to submit evidence.” My mom, red-eyed, pulled out two photos. In one, I was smiling brightly in my parents’ arms. In the other, Ryan was alone, crying in the apartment where he lived with Grandpa John and Grandma Susan. “We always favored Emily,” she explained, “because we were afraid she’d feel hurt once Ryan came along. So we kept her close, while Ryan… well, even if he cried his heart out, we only visited him once a year.” “No matter what we had, Emily always got the best of it. Ryan only got the leftovers.” The audience became even more emotional: “Poor parents, trying their best. You can’t treat both kids exactly the same, right?” “I can’t believe she’s suing her parents after they sacrificed so much for her. Ungrateful!” As the comments raged on, the first vote came in, and without a doubt, the jury sided with my parents. Seeing they’d won the first round, my mom finally seemed to relax a little. “Emily, please, let’s stop this. We can still go back to the way things were,” she pleaded. “I’m willing to sign a settlement, I won’t hold it against you.” My mom looked at me with desperate eyes. Ryan chimed in urgently, “Sis, please stop this. Everyone knows you’re their favorite. If this trial keeps going, you’ll die! What’s going to happen to Mom and Dad then?” “Wow, I’ve never seen defendants plead like this! She could settle and walk away without facing any consequences!” But I stayed calm and cool, turning to the judge and saying, “Let’s continue.” Because the truth, the real truth, was yet to come.

The next memory was revealed. By the time I was ten, I had already started living at school during the week. That year, during the school’s Spring Play, I danced my heart out on stage. My parents had even taken time off work to watch me perform. When the show ended, I tripped on my long dress but still scrambled up, running toward them with a big, toothy grin, one of my front teeth missing. “Mommy, how did I do?” I asked. But my mom barely paid attention, distracted. “There were too many people on stage. Where were you standing again? I couldn’t tell.” The audience was stunned. “Wait, weren’t they just watching her and smiling? I thought they were really into it!” “Emily was the lead dancer in the front row! I’m nearly blind, and even I could tell it was her. What were her parents watching?” I noticed the brief flicker of discomfort on my parents’ faces, but they quickly recovered. The scene shifted to later that same day. I sat alone in the school cafeteria, eating a cold sandwich, watching as all the other kids were picked up by their parents. I quietly cried into my food. Meanwhile, my parents had taken Ryan to Six Flags to celebrate his seventh birthday. That same week, I scored a 99 on my exam. They barely acknowledged it, telling me to aim for 100. But when Ryan scored 60, they were overjoyed. “That’s my boy! Just a little more effort, and you’ll be doing great. Last time it was 40, and now you’ve jumped up 20 points!” David said proudly. Ryan grinned, puffing his chest. “It’s easy to improve by a few points, but jumping 20? That’s talent. I’ve got way more potential than Emily!” The live stream audience started to shift their tone. “Wow, what a ridiculous comparison. Anyone knows that going from 90 to 100 is much harder.” “And this dad? Praising his son by putting down his daughter? Seriously?” At this point, Ryan got flustered. “It was my birthday! I was just a little kid; of course, my parents wanted to make me happy!” Some people defended him, pointing out that since the parents weren’t around much, it made sense to spoil Ryan a bit on his birthday. Others had different thoughts: “But Emily’s a latchkey kid too!” “Ugh, seeing her cry in the corner breaks my heart.” When the jury voted, many agreed that gender bias existed, and this round went in my favor. The screen now showed a 1-1 tie, and I could see the tension return to my mom’s face. “Emily, your mom and I have always treated you and Ryan equally, but we’re only human. Sometimes it’s impossible to keep things perfectly balanced. Can you forgive us for those moments?” she said, her voice shaky. Her words sparked sympathy again from the viewers. “Yeah, I get it. My oldest always has to give in to the younger one, but I still try to be fair.” “Right, families with multiple kids have so many little conflicts—this doesn’t seem like abuse.” As the conversation quieted, the judge released the third memory segment.

I had already lost two rounds. According to the rule of needing four wins out of six, if I lost the next one, the trial could end in a tie or, worse, a loss for me. But the memory extractor was going in chronological order. We were getting close to the memories of my high school years. There was no way they could win these. My mom, Linda, was growing increasingly anxious, practically begging me now: “Emily, please, stop this! We can’t lose you.” But I just smiled and said, “Mom, didn’t you always say I was the one you loved the most? If that’s true, why are you so afraid of the truth? If you really treated me the same as Ryan, I won’t mind dying for it.” At that moment, the system judge’s cold, robotic voice rang out, asking me if I wanted to proceed with the trial. I nodded firmly, unable to wait any longer to rip away their masks. The parents I had depended on for so long had never truly cared about me. Those hidden scars, those painful truths buried for years, were finally about to be revealed. “Honestly, aside from the Six Flags birthday trip, all the memories show them favoring their daughter. Why is she still pushing this?” “Yeah, she seems pretty calm for someone who might die. Maybe there’s something deeper going on?” The fourth memory segment appeared on the big screen. I was sixteen at the time, having just finished my high school entrance exams. I had grown tall and graceful, my face still soft and innocent, like a newborn lamb. Because I had ranked first in the entire city, I made the local newspaper, and the media even came to interview my family. The reporter asked which school I wanted to attend. I smiled brightly. “I’ve worked so hard so I could get into the best high school, just to stay close to Mom and Dad.” From elementary school to middle school, I had been living on campus, away from home. I longed to spend my high school years living with my parents. Since they worked in the city, my only chance of staying with them was if I could get into Lincoln High School. But after receiving my scholarship and the spotlight faded, my parents enrolled me in Brighton Preparatory School—a private school far out of state. The school was so far away that I wouldn’t be able to come home even once a year. The smile on my face froze. My mom hugged me, crying with tears streaming down her face. “My darling, I don’t want to send you away either, but the teachers say you’re extraordinarily gifted. We can’t let ordinary education hold you back. You’ll get a much better education at Brighton.” Principal George Michaels, a seemingly kind and elderly man in his sixties, met us in his office. He eyed me with sharp scrutiny, saying he recognized my potential and promised to nurture it well. He also assured my parents that my tuition and living expenses would be fully covered. I don’t know what else he whispered to them in hushed voices. But in the end, my parents exchanged satisfied glances and left with smiles on their faces. “What the hell is this old man up to?” “Oh my god, someone stop him!” Suddenly, shocked comments poured into the live stream. Everyone saw what happened next—after my parents left, Principal Michaels closed the door to his office. Then, with a smile still on his face, he walked over to me, ignoring my cries, and reached under my skirt.

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When I got engaged to my boyfriend, his ex-girlfriend, the one he had always held on a pedestal, came back from abroad—and she brought their twins with her. Tearfully, she looked at me and said, “If you hate me, take it out on me, but Raphael and I are truly in love. Besides, we already have children together. I’m sure you don’t want to be the other woman, right?” I laughed. With my height advantage, I looked down at her and said, “First of all, I’m just taking back what’s mine. Second, when I got together with Raphael, you two had already broken up. So really, it’s you, crashing my engagement party, who’s the other woman here.” When I saw Raphael holding his ex, Emma, and their twins, I just smiled. The way Emma looked at me—it was like she was saying, “What are you so proud of? You’re just a side character.” I think she must’ve seen herself as the main character of some old-school romantic drama. She looked plain and, honestly, didn’t seem all that bright either. I mean, what kind of person would throw challenging looks at me during my engagement party? But I knew it was over. There wasn’t going to be a wedding between Raphael and me after this. Raphael looked serious as he said, “Cindy, I’m sorry. The one I’ve always loved is Emma.” The entire banquet hall buzzed with excitement. After all, I was young, beautiful, highly educated, and came from a well-off family—so much better than Raphael’s broke ex, who couldn’t hold a candle to me. Only Raphael’s friends looked at him with admiration, as if they were in awe of his “deep” love. And they stared at me like I was some kind of jilted woman, laughing behind my back. Of course, people flock together with their own kind. I had loved Raphael for years, given him everything willingly. But it only takes a moment to lose all feelings for someone. I slipped off the diamond ring from my finger, tossed it toward him, and casually smiled. “Fine. Let’s settle up, shall we?” Raphael looked confused. “Settle what?” What a ridiculous question. “I’ve managed your company for years. I’ve invested in it. What do you think we’re settling? Do I look like the kind of idiot who works for free out of love?” Raphael hadn’t expected me to be so decisive. He couldn’t even find the words to respond. But his precious Emma—crying as always—stepped forward to defend him. “Miss Carter, you’re so wealthy. The money you invested in Raphael’s business is nothing to you. Why be so particular about it?” Raphael’s friends chimed in, “Exactly, Cindy. You don’t look like someone who’d be upset over a few bucks.” “Maybe she’s just embarrassed after being dumped at her own engagement party.” “…” Raphael, at least, had a shred of decency and told them, “That’s enough, guys.” But Emma continued sobbing, “Miss Carter, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Raphael and I are truly in love, and we already have kids. You don’t want to be the other woman, right?” I couldn’t help but laugh again. She was playing the victim, thinking her poverty gave her the moral high ground, trying to paint me as the villain. What a saint she thought she was. I leaned down, using my height advantage once again. “First of all, I’m just taking back what’s mine. Second, Raphael and I were together after you two had already broken up. So, showing up at my engagement party to wreck it makes you the other woman.” Emma immediately looked like she’d been hit with the world’s greatest injustice, tears flowing even more. Raphael looked torn, ready to defend her. But I cut him off before he could say a word. “Raphael, you should know, I don’t have much patience.”

Sure enough, Raphael caved. We went to an exclusive country club, where I had a private VIP room. Of course, Emma and her twins tagged along. Raphael and I sat across from each other, while Emma kept the kids busy in the corner, occasionally glancing over at us. Raphael started, “Cindy, I’ll pay you back every cent I owe, but right now, I don’t have enough money. Could you—?” “If you don’t have the money, hand over your projects.” If we’re going to end things, we might as well cut ties completely. I could see that my coldness was starting to shatter whatever image Raphael had of me. He stared at me, stunned. Emma, the typical homemaker type who clearly didn’t understand business, jumped up immediately when she heard I wanted his projects. “How can that be? Cindy, those projects belong to Raphael—” Just hearing her voice made me sick. Did she think standing up for him was helping? Wrong. I wasn’t about to play nice. Her voice only reminded me that she was the reason my relationship ended. “Does this concern you?” Emma looked like she’d been punched, her face scrunching up in hurt, as if I was persecuting her. Raphael, of course, wasn’t happy that I talked to his beloved like that. “Cindy, Emma doesn’t know anything about this. There’s no need to speak to her like that.” He turned to Emma and added, “Cindy negotiated all these deals herself. If she wants to take them, it’s only fair.” I laughed at Raphael’s naïveté. “The deals I negotiated? Of course I’m taking those. But I’m talking about your projects.” Raphael looked shocked. “What are you saying?” I chuckled. “You don’t have money, so pay me with your projects. Is that so hard to understand?” Raphael’s face darkened, like he was holding back a lot of anger. “Cindy, do you really have to be this heartless? Can’t we at least stay friends?” Friends? A man who dumped me at my own engagement party wants to be friends? That’s got to be the biggest joke of the century.

In the end, I didn’t just take the projects I’d secured myself. I also took two of Raphael’s most profitable ones. Those two deals alone would net me more than I ever invested in him over the years. Once I had what I wanted, I walked out. As I left, I could still hear Emma’s whimpering complaints and the twins’ cries. I couldn’t care less. My only focus now was turning those projects into cash. For years, I’d been too busy managing Raphael’s affairs to spend time at my own company, CC Corporation. Negotiations went smoothly for most of the projects. One deal I took from Raphael got approved right away. But another required further evaluation. My company didn’t have much overlap with Raphael’s, so they were concerned about whether I had the expertise to handle it. The next morning, I scheduled a meeting with the head of that company—at the same country club, of course. What I didn’t expect was for Daniel Thomas to show up. He was Raphael’s uncle. In all the years I’d been with Raphael, I’d only met him twice—this being the second time. The man had a powerful presence. From the moment I first met him, I felt a little uneasy around him. Just a little. Daniel smiled, graceful and polite, yet somehow still intimidating. “Why aren’t you coming in?” Daniel had the kind of aura that felt spiritual, yet dangerous. Instinct told me this man was trouble. Raphael was his nephew. Was Daniel agreeing to this deal just to get back at me on his nephew’s behalf? I stepped inside and sat across from Daniel, forcing a smile. “Hello, Mr. Thomas.” Daniel’s mood seemed light. “You remember me?” How could I forget someone like him? “Of course. I met you last year when Raphael brought me home for dinner.” Daniel continued to smile. “Seems I made quite an impression. I’m honored.” That’s Daniel for you—charming and friendly on the surface, but I knew I had to stay on guard. He seemed like the type to smile while stabbing you in the back.

I wasn’t going to take this deal. Not because I was scared, but because I knew when to cut my losses. Before Daniel could make his move, I decided to strike first and back out. “Mr. Thomas, I’m sure you know about everything that happened between Raphael and me. I think it’s best if we don’t work together.” Daniel casually asked, “Why?” Was he really asking? Didn’t he know? “And why are you trying to work with me?” Isn’t it obvious? He’s doing it to get revenge for his nephew. Daniel locked eyes with me. “For you.” I was stunned—not just by his words, but by the way he was looking at me. The raw desire in his eyes made it hard for me to breathe. I couldn’t quite grasp what those three words meant. “What do you mean?” Daniel sat up straighter, smiling with that unsettling charm. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m pursuing you.” His voice was smooth, full of flirtation. Goosebumps spread over my skin. I’d just broken up with his nephew, and now he was coming after me? Who would believe that? I was furious, thinking Daniel must’ve been playing me for a fool. “Daniel, do you think I’m that easy to trick?” Daniel’s gaze shifted to one of admiration, as though my anger amused him. “I’m not lying to you,” he said calmly. I clenched my fists, trying to stay composed. “We’ve only met twice.” “Who says I can’t fall in love at first sight?” Daniel’s tone was so casual, and his expression so unreadable, that I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or just messing with me. My anger shielded me from any intimidation at that point. I shot back, “I was still Raphael’s girlfriend at the time. You fell for your future niece?” “Is that a problem? I’m only pursuing you after you two broke up. I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.” He spoke so naturally, as if he was the one in the right. But I wasn’t buying it. This whole situation was too sudden, too suspicious. I couldn’t let my guard down. “I don’t like you…” “And that’s why I’m pursuing you.” Daniel cut me off, his voice unwavering. “This deal was just a way for me to get closer to you. If it bothers you, we can cancel the deal. But my pursuit? That’s not going to stop.” He seemed determined, as if he truly meant it. For now, I decided to put the deal on hold. I stood up. “I think we’re done for today. I’ve got other things to take care of.” I gave him a nod and started walking out. Just as I reached the door, Daniel called out to me. “Cindy.” I turned to face him. He stood up and walked toward me. Daniel was even taller than Raphael, easily over six feet, and his presence was overwhelming. The closer he got, the more I felt that familiar sense of pressure. I hated being at a disadvantage. I tilted my chin up. “What do you want?” Daniel stopped in front of me. I could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his cologne, though I couldn’t place what it was exactly. He asked, “How am I worse than Raphael?” Daniel actually asked me that. So, he was human after all. “To be honest, you’re better than Raphael in every way.” Raphael wasn’t my boyfriend anymore, so there was no need for me to be biased. Daniel pressed on. “Then why don’t you like me?” His questions were starting to feel like an endless loop of frustration. I laid it out plainly. “Daniel, I think you’re just trying to get back at me for Raphael.”

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As I was cleaning the room over the weekend, I swept under the bed and found a wrapper. Any adult would know what it was. Mia and I had been trying for a baby for over two months without using any protection, so there’s no way that thing was mine. I looked at the wrapper closely—it was clearly used recently. A terrible thought exploded in my mind: Was Mia cheating on me? I found a cigarette butt in the trash can in our bathroom, and I don’t smoke. My wife, Mia, hates the smell of cigarettes—so who smoked it? We hadn’t had any guests over recently. Holding the cigarette butt, I asked Mia who had been here. She stammered, saying it might have been left by the guy who came to fix the water heater. Our water heater had been broken for a while, and it was indeed fixed recently, so I didn’t think much of it at the time. But then, over the weekend, while cleaning, I found a wrapper under the bed. Any adult would know what it was. Mia and I had been trying to have a baby for two months without protection. So, this contraceptive wrapper wasn’t mine. I looked at it again—it was obviously used recently. That horrible thought resurfaced: Was Mia cheating on me? I didn’t confront her right away. With work keeping me so busy, I hadn’t spent much time with her lately, and things between us had become tense. I wanted to believe this was all just a misunderstanding. The next day, I took a day off from work and sent Mia out to hang with her friends on purpose. I called the home appliance repair company, claiming our water heater was broken again, and requested the same guy who had come last time. About fifteen minutes later, he arrived—a tall, clean-cut young man. He smiled confidently as he came in. I led him to the bathroom and, as a test, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered him one. To my surprise, he immediately pushed it away, saying, “Sorry, man, I don’t smoke.” I was stunned, but more than that, I was suspicious. The cigarette butt in the trash hadn’t come from him. Mia had lied to me. He checked the water heater and told me nothing was wrong. I mumbled some excuse and sent him on his way. He was polite, but as he was leaving, he said something that completely threw me off: “Hope you’re feeling better, man. Your wife’s been worried about you.” Feeling better? What was he talking about? I pulled him back inside and asked more questions. He told me that when he was here a few days ago, he heard a man coughing in the bedroom. Mia had said it was me—she told him I had a fever and was resting. My mind reeled in shock. That night, I wasn’t even home. I had been working late and didn’t get back until after midnight. So, whoever that man was, it wasn’t me. I asked if he had seen the man’s face. He shook his head. I handed him $500 and told him to keep this between us. I rushed to the nearest Best Buy and bought a hidden camera, planning to gather evidence. I looked all over the bedroom for a good spot, and finally, I noticed the gap between some suitcases on top of the wardrobe—a perfect place to hide the camera. As I stood on a chair, ready to install the camera, I spotted something strange in the gap. I reached in and pulled out a hidden camera—one much more sophisticated than mine. Who had put this here? And when? Someone had been spying on me and Mia. A flood of questions raced through my mind. I didn’t want to alert anyone, so I carefully put the camera back. At that moment, my phone rang. It was Mia. She purred into the phone, “Hey honey, are you home? Are you heading back to work this afternoon?” Why was she asking? Could it be that she was planning to bring her lover to our house? I calmly answered, “No, I just left for work. You’ll have to grab lunch by yourself.” She sighed and hung up. I decided to stay hidden at home and catch them red-handed. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a knife, just in case. Around noon, I heard Mia’s laughter outside the door. I peered through the peephole. Mia was all dressed up—heavy makeup, a revealing outfit—and she was clinging to a man I recognized all too well: Randy Johnson, my coworker. Randy was the type of guy who flirted with half the women in the office. Everyone knew about his affairs. He and I were cordial, but nothing more. But how did he end up with Mia? They were standing so close, his arm around her waist, looking more intimate than I could handle. Inside, I was boiling with rage, gripping the knife so tightly my palms were sweaty. My whole body trembled as I fought the urge to run out and tear them apart. But I held myself back. Instead, I pulled out my phone to take pictures as evidence. Just as I clicked the camera, the shutter sound went off loudly. They might not have heard it, but I panicked and dropped the knife on the tiled floor, which made a sharp, echoing noise. Immediately, they stopped talking. I ran to the kitchen and pretended to be busy. A minute later, Mia slowly opened the door and, hearing me in the kitchen, came to check on me. Seeing me chopping vegetables, she asked cautiously, “Honey, I thought you went to work?” I smiled and said, “I heard you sounded a bit down on the phone, so I figured I’d make you lunch before heading back to work.” But inside, I was thinking: You lying cheat, did I ruin your little plan? Mia wrapped her arms around me from behind, whispering about how lucky she was to have me, saying she was the happiest woman in the world. I swallowed my disgust and played along.

The entire afternoon, I couldn’t stop thinking about how I would deal with those two. I knew I needed solid evidence of their affair. I checked the photos I had taken through the peephole, but they were too blurry to identify anyone. That night, Mia went to take her usual bath. Oddly enough, this time, she didn’t bring her phone with her. The screen was blinking with notifications, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be some incriminating messages. While she was in the shower, I picked up her phone. Her password was her birthday, so I easily unlocked it. I opened WhatsApp and saw a few unread messages from Randy. I hesitated. If I read them, would Mia know? But I couldn’t stop myself. I clicked them open. What I found left me stunned. They had started seeing each other two months ago—right after that company dinner, when Mia had attended as my plus-one. I couldn’t believe it. They had only met once before hooking up, and for the thrill of it, they had done it right here in my home. And they had timed it around when I got off work. It was a complete betrayal of everything I believed. But what shocked me more was that they had a plan. Before Mia and I got married, we had signed a fidelity agreement stating that if either of us cheated, the guilty party would leave the marriage with nothing. All our assets, the house, the cars—they were all paid for by me. Mia was planning to take everything. And it was her idea. Randy had agreed to help her pull it off. They even had a lengthy video call discussing it. What was Randy going to do for her? Were they plotting something even bigger? I had kept myself faithful to this marriage, barely interacting with the cleaning lady, let alone having an affair. How did Randy plan to frame me? I scrolled further through their chat and discovered that the hidden camera in the bedroom had been planted by Mia, following Randy’s instructions. I checked Mia’s spending history and found that they regularly booked rooms at the same Hilton Hotel. When Mia got out of the shower, I put her phone back and carefully observed her reaction when she picked it up. She seemed unaware that I had gone through it. Over the next few days, I continued to go to work as usual. Every time I saw Randy was missing from the office, I pretended to be sick and took the day off, spending my time staking out the hotel, taking pictures to gather more evidence. What I discovered was shocking. Randy wasn’t just cheating with Mia—he brought a different woman to the hotel each time. The guy was a total scumbag. After about a week, I had enough evidence, but I wasn’t ready to confront Mia or file for divorce yet. I had a plan to make Randy suffer first.

One morning, I arrived at work, and Randy was already there, smiling and greeting me like nothing had happened. He looked so innocent, it was disgusting. He had been sleeping with our overweight boss, Mrs. Smith—everyone knew it. She had made advances toward me in the past, but I had rejected her, which had led to her giving me a hard time at work. Lately, Randy’s workload had mysteriously lightened, even though he often showed up late, left early, or skipped days entirely. And yet, he was still being considered for Employee of the Month. It had to be because of his relationship with Mrs. Smith. I couldn’t believe he was willing to go that far for success. Mrs. Smith’s husband was notoriously strict with her. He would stop by the office unannounced to keep an eye on her, and Randy and Mrs. Smith would sneak off to the stairwell for their rendezvous. One day, I managed to snap some photos of them together. I also had pictures of Randy from the hotel with her. Once I had everything ready, I anonymously sent all the photos to Mr. Smith—showing them hugging, kissing, the whole disgusting affair. The very next day, Mr. Smith stormed into the office with several big guys in tow. Randy, sensing danger, tried to run, but he didn’t get far. The men grabbed him and beat him so badly he was spitting blood. A few coworkers threatened to call the police, so they finally stopped. Mrs. Smith, terrified, hid in her office but was soon dragged out by her furious husband. After the chaos, I helped Randy up, pretending to be concerned. Seeing him bruised and barely able to stand was deeply satisfying. That evening, back at home, Mia casually asked, “I heard Randy got beaten up at work. How is he?” I held back a laugh. It was clear she had heard from Randy himself. “Yeah,” I said, “apparently he was hooking up with our boss, and her husband found out. He came in and beat him up.” As I told her this, I watched her closely. Her expression didn’t change much, which made me wonder—did she know about Randy’s other affairs? If she did and still stayed with him, well, that just proved the old saying true: “Birds of a feather flock together.” After dinner, I got up to do the dishes, but Mia stopped me, saying I had been working too hard lately and that she’d take care of them. I found it odd. She hadn’t offered to do this in a while. As I sat back down, I noticed her phone lighting up with a notification. I clicked on it—it was a message from Randy. Their previous chat history was gone. Had she deleted it because she knew I had checked? But the message made my blood run cold: “I got my test results. I have HIV.”

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Mrs. Miller pointed at my nose and said that I was trash, and her son was the only one who didn’t mind. Mr. Miller made it clear: if I was pregnant with a boy, they’d be willing to take me in. But if it was a girl, there was no way they’d let me marry into the family. I laughed. “Didn’t you want a grandson? Go look for one underground.” John and I had been dating for three years. We were introduced through our families. The person who introduced us said that John was honest, decent-looking, and his character was outstanding. I met him, and sure enough, he spoke well and wasn’t unattractive. After spending some time together, I found he was quite considerate, so I agreed to start dating him. For the past three years, John treated me well. He had plenty of flaws, but none that I couldn’t tolerate. What I couldn’t stand was how much he listened to his mom. If she told him what time to get up, he wouldn’t sleep a minute longer. But he promised me that he’d work on breaking that habit. After three years, both of our families arranged to meet and discuss marriage. I thought about it and agreed—it was time to settle down. But just a month after we got engaged, I found out I was pregnant. I stared at the two lines on the pregnancy test, lost in thought. We’d been careful all these years, never had any accidents. I told John about it, and he was thrilled. But his excitement didn’t seem like the joy of someone about to become a father. “I’ve got to call my parents right away,” he said. I nodded, not thinking much of it. It made sense to tell his parents, so I picked up my phone, unsure how to break the news to mine. Even though we were already engaged, we hadn’t officially gotten married yet, and none of the wedding details had been finalized. Meanwhile, John had already called his parents. The first thing he said was, “Mom, Olivia is pregnant. We’re expecting.” His mother immediately responded with a sigh of relief, “Finally, it happened.”

What did she mean by “finally”? I stared at John, confused. He looked flustered and quickly said into the phone, “Mom, Olivia is right here.” He was video chatting with his parents, so I didn’t say anything. When he hung up, I asked, “What did your mom mean by ‘finally’?” John wrapped his arm around my waist with a laugh. “What do you think she meant? She’s just happy. She’s been waiting for a grandkid, that’s all.” His words stung a little. I pushed his arm away. “It’s not necessarily a boy. What if it’s a girl? Is that a problem?” John realized his mistake and quickly tried to comfort me. “Of course not! Boys, girls—they’re all the same. Honestly, it’d be perfect if we had one of each.” Something about the situation didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Later, when John went to make dinner, I called my parents to tell them the news. They were a little surprised, but after thinking it over, they didn’t scold me. After all, we were already engaged, and the wedding was just a matter of time. They only told us to come home and finalize the wedding details quickly. “You don’t want to be walking down the aisle with a big belly,” my mom said. I understood what they meant. It wouldn’t look good in front of all the relatives. When I talked it over with John, he was hesitant. He made excuses about not being able to take time off and how he was busy with a work project. John was just a regular employee—nothing so urgent that he couldn’t leave for a few days. Besides, what company doesn’t allow time off for a wedding? John kept delaying, and by the time we finally went home, three months had passed. By then, I was already four months pregnant. But because I was skinny and it was winter, no one could really tell. That night, my mom sat next to me, looking concerned. “John didn’t want to come back earlier—do you think they might be planning to reduce the dowry?” I was confused. “What do you mean?” She glanced at my belly. “You’re pregnant now. Do you think they’re trying to use that as an excuse to offer less?” I thought about it. An $8,800 dowry didn’t seem unreasonable, and John’s family wasn’t exactly poor. Besides, I was bringing a dowry of my own into the marriage. “Don’t worry, John isn’t like that.” My mom nodded, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how John had delayed our trip home for so long. Now that I was four months along and could no longer get an abortion, he was suddenly in a rush to return. Why? Could my mom be right? Were they trying to avoid paying the dowry? The next morning, John and his parents came over to discuss the wedding. They walked in with an air of superiority, and I frowned slightly. Mrs. Miller nodded at me, her eyes filled with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction. “How’s the baby, Olivia?” “I’m fine,” I replied, sitting next to my parents and saying nothing more. Mr. Miller cleared his throat and started talking. “We all know Olivia is pregnant. Now, we’re a well-educated family, and frankly, we don’t approve of girls who get pregnant before marriage.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. His father actually said that. My dad, who had always been protective of me, couldn’t stay quiet. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Mr. Miller gave a cold laugh. “It may be harsh, but it’s the truth.” I looked at John. He was sitting next to his mother, head down, avoiding my gaze. “Let’s cut to the chase,” I said. “What are you really trying to say?” Mr. Miller glared at me. “The $8,800 dowry we talked about? We’re not paying it. But we expect you to provide the wedding gifts.” He glanced at my belly. “After all, we’re taking a risk here. We don’t even know if that baby is truly a Miller.” His words made my blood boil. My parents were furious as well, barely able to contain their anger. “John,” I said, turning to him, “is this how you feel too?” He finally lifted his head and met my eyes, speaking softly, “I listen to my parents.” I laughed bitterly. “Great. Just great.” My mom grabbed my arm, trying to calm me down. “How could you say something so disgusting?” she snapped at them. “If you’re so short on money, just say so. You don’t have to insult my daughter like this.” My dad was gripping the table in anger. Mrs. Miller wasn’t backing down. “It’s not an insult. Your daughter did this, so it’s only natural for people to talk.” I shot up from my chair. “I didn’t do this alone! Your son is involved, and you don’t seem to be blaming him for anything!” “John!” I shouted, glaring at the man sitting in the corner. “Say something right now, in front of both our families. Was I the one who forced you to get me pregnant? If that’s what you think, I’ll turn myself in right now.” John stood up shakily, looking between me and his parents. “No, no, of course not. You know that’s not true.” I turned to Mrs. Miller. “Did you hear that?” She didn’t seem fazed. “Well, John is a boy. It’s different for him.” “How is it different? He’s not a human being like I am?” Mrs. Miller stood up, pointing her finger at me, ready to yell, but my dad stepped in between us. “This is my house,” he said firmly. “If you don’t intend to marry Olivia, then leave.” Mr. and Mrs. Miller sneered and laughed. “Fine, we’ll go. But don’t come crawling to us later.” “Hmph.” John hesitated at the door, glancing back at me nervously, but I shot him a look that made him lower his head and leave. As soon as they were gone, my mom started crying. “What are we going to do now?” I looked at my parents, who were being dragged into this mess because of me, and my heart ached. But I held back my tears. Now was not the time to cry. If I broke down, my parents would only worry more. “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I’ll go get an abortion tomorrow.”

My mom immediately protested. “No, you can’t! I’ve heard that getting an abortion this far along can harm your body. You might not be able to have kids again.” I sat down, trying to stay calm. “I’ll go to the hospital and talk to the doctor. If I can’t get an abortion, I’ll have the baby and raise it myself.” My dad sighed. “We can talk to the Millers again tomorrow. If they don’t want to pay the dowry, that’s fine. We don’t need their money.” With that, he went back into the house. My mom held my hand tightly. “Your father has always been a proud man. He’s just upset. Once he calms down, we’ll talk to the Millers again.” That night, no matter how many messages John sent me, I didn’t reply. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep until dawn. When I finally woke up, my mom was the only one in the kitchen, making breakfast. Then I remembered—my dad had said he’d go to the Millers’ house last night. It was already noon, and he still wasn’t back. “Don’t worry,” my mom said, trying to reassure me. “If things didn’t go well, he would’ve come home by now.” But I couldn’t shake the anxiety. What if they were giving my dad a hard time? “I’m going to find him,” I said, grabbing my coat. Just as I opened the door, I saw my dad standing there. His face was full of worry, but when he saw me, he forced a smile. “Where are you off to?” “Dad, why were you gone so long? Did they give you trouble?” He hesitated before answering, “No, no trouble. Just talking about the wedding.” My mom hurried over. “So? What did they say?” My dad closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “They said we have to wait until Olivia gives birth. If it’s a boy, then they’ll agree to the marriage.” “What?” My mom and I both shouted in unison. “This is outrageous,” my mom fumed, throwing her dish towel on the floor. “Do they think their son is a god or something?” I felt dizzy, my vision going black for a moment. How could everything I’d dreamed of—the wedding, the marriage—turn into this nightmare? I wobbled on my feet, and my mom rushed over to steady me. “Olivia, should we go to the hospital?” I suddenly remembered what John and his mother had said that day—finally pregnant. So this had all been part of their plan from the start.

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I received a call from the police, saying they needed my cooperation in an investigation. Was this some kind of scam call? “Yes, I went to Thailand. I used my card to buy an elephant,” I replied dismissively before hanging up. Not long after, the phone rang again. It was the same number. “This isn’t a scam call. We mainly want to inquire about Mr. Zachary Walsh’s disappearance,” the voice said. Are scammers getting this thorough now? They even know about my good-for-nothing husband who never comes home? Then I heard him continue, “We received a missing person report from his wife, stating that Mr. Walsh disappeared after meeting with you.” Wait, his wife? Confused, I rummaged through my things to find our marriage certificate. Looking at the official seal, I wondered aloud, “Then who am I?” When the police came to my door again, they didn’t just talk to me there. Instead, they asked me to come to the station for questioning. When I arrived, I saw a young, pretty pregnant woman sitting in a chair outside. She was so thin that if she hadn’t been wearing maternity clothes, you wouldn’t have known she was pregnant. Next to her, constantly comforting her, was a middle-aged woman who bore some resemblance to Zachary. Coincidentally, I knew both of them. One was Zachary’s aunt, and the other was the homewrecker who had ruined my marriage. Sophie Jenkins jumped up when she saw me, pointing and yelling, “It was you, wasn’t it? You wanted more money and didn’t want to divorce him, so you did something to my husband! Otherwise, how could he just disappear without a trace?” How ridiculous. Although Zachary and I were discussing divorce, we hadn’t even signed the papers yet. And she was already calling him her husband. “Don’t want a divorce? I married that man because I was blind. Only someone like you would treat him like a treasure. You two deserve each other,” I shot back, refusing to back down. “You accuse me of harming him? Why don’t you look at yourself? If I remember correctly, Zachary didn’t put a single thing he gave you in your name, right? And he never gave you more than $1000 at a time, did he?” I knew all too well how stingy Zachary was as a man. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be his mistress. “You’re not very good at being a mistress, are you? Everything he gave you, he can take back whenever he wants. Even if you managed to become the official wife, he’d still toss you aside when he’s done with you.” At this point, Zachary’s aunt, Zoe, tried to intervene. “We’re all family here. Why are you fighting like this? The most important thing right now is to find Zachary. You can’t get divorced if he’s not here, right, Rachel?” I gave her a cold, mocking smile. Only Aunt Zoe could say such nonsense. When my in-laws were on their deathbeds, I was running around taking care of everything. Not a single person told me that Zachary was out there with a mistress. The whole family treated me like a fool. Back then, when I wanted to hire professional caregivers for my in-laws, how did Aunt Zoe try to persuade me against it? She said, “Rachel, dear, it’s best to take care of your own family members. You don’t know how scary it is these days. There are so many stories online about caregivers abusing the elderly.” I replied, “I’ll visit my parents-in-law every day after work. They’re in the hospital, so nothing like that will happen.” Aunt Zoe then put on a sour face and said, quite unhappily, “Rachel, I don’t mean to criticize you, but you’ve already failed to give Zachary children. Now that his parents are sick and need you, how can you not take care of them yourself? You’re his wife, you’re one unit.” Back then, I didn’t realize how ridiculous Aunt Zoe’s words were. I even thought she had a point. Now, looking back, it’s absurd. I retorted, “Listen to yourself. Is that how a human being talks? Before Zachary disappeared, every time you said we were family, it was to convince him to leave me with nothing. Now that he’s gone and you realize you can’t get anything, suddenly I’m family again? Do I look like some kind of pushover to you?” Aunt Zoe’s face turned ashen. She tried to pull the elder card on me again, like she used to. I wasn’t falling for it anymore. “Enough. Don’t bother with this act. You can’t even manage your own son, and now you’re trying to meddle in my life when Zachary and I are already estranged? What are you, the world police?” At this point, the female detective from earlier and a few other officers came to break up the argument. Aunt Zoe and Sophie didn’t dare to make a scene anymore. They could only watch as Detective Miller and I walked into the interview room. Detective Edwards and a young officer I hadn’t seen before, who seemed to have a perpetual scowl, were there to question me. Detective Edwards informed me, “We found Mr. Walsh’s fishing gear downstream in the reservoir. We suspect he might have fallen into the water and had an accident.” I couldn’t help but laugh. The scowling young officer said, “This is serious! We’re talking about a man’s life here.” I replied, “I’m sorry, officer, but as you know, I’m a woman whose marriage was betrayed. The mistress is right outside with a baby bump. If it were anyone else, I’d be worried and concerned. But when it comes to Zachary Walsh, I hope he’s dead already.” Detective Edwards calmed down the young officer and handed me some photos. “This is what we wanted to discuss. According to our investigation, you were also near Linjiang Reservoir last Friday. Security cameras near Linjiang Supermarket caught you on tape. Can you tell us why you were there?” The photos showed me wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, a face mask, a green sun protection shirt, white pants, and sneakers. Coincidentally, I was wearing the exact same outfit today. “I have legs, don’t I? I can go wherever I want,” I replied coldly, my tone somewhat confrontational. The young officer tried to intimidate me, “Ma’am, please answer our questions seriously. This isn’t just a missing person case anymore. If you can’t prove your innocence, we have the right to arrest you.” In reality, they couldn’t, because they had no evidence to prove my guilt. But many ordinary citizens don’t know this, so when the police say things that are half-true, those with guilty consciences might confess. But I had nothing to hide. I didn’t want to waste any more time here, so I told the truth. “I went there to discuss divorce matters with him.” Detective Edwards asked, “Didn’t you and Mr. Walsh already reach an agreement? Why did you need to discuss it again? And why didn’t you say this earlier?” My craving for a cigarette hit me again. I asked Detective Edwards for one and said, “Actually, we hadn’t. Before, he wanted a divorce and I didn’t, so he kept dragging things out. Now, I want a divorce and he doesn’t, so he’s the one dragging his feet.” “Why did Mr. Walsh change his mind?” they asked. I smiled bitterly. “For money, of course.” “At first, he wanted to get rid of me cheaply, and I didn’t agree. Later, I wanted to take what rightfully belonged to me and leave, but he thought it was too much and disagreed.” “So he refused to talk to me, kept stalling, and wouldn’t meet me face to face. When I called, he’d just say one thing.” The scowling officer asked, “What did he say?” “He’d say, ‘I’ll only accept you leaving with nothing. If you agree, we’ll divorce. If not, forget it.’” Detective Edwards asked, “And Sophie Jenkins was okay with this situation? Her baby must be about six months along now.” I laughed mockingly. “What could she do about it? I built this business with Zachary. I only stepped back from the company because I had to take care of his dying parents. That’s why I lost so much control and ended up in this situation.” “I have the means and ability to fight Zachary. As long as he still cares about his reputation and doesn’t want to be shunned by his business partners, he has to deal with me, no matter how annoying it is.” “But what leverage does that whore outside have? The baby in her belly? I couldn’t have children before, but when I couldn’t give birth, didn’t he just find another woman to have a kid with? Everything she has, Zachary can take back whenever he wants. He’s just deluding himself, thinking he’s in love with her. Are you satisfied with this explanation?” “Answer what we ask, don’t try to deflect. How did you know Zachary would be there? Did he tell you? Did you see him?” The scowling officer tapped the table. I gave him an OK sign. “Of course he didn’t tell me. The mistress told me. But I didn’t see Zachary either. He didn’t want to meet me. Sophie was afraid Zachary would come after her, so she only told me his general location.” She was desperate to become the official wife but couldn’t get Zachary to budge, so she tried to work through me. “We heard from Ms. Jenkins that you had blocked her. How did she tell you?” they asked. “Public phone. All the calls taunting me to hurry up and divorce Zachary came from public phones.” I opened my call log on my phone to show them. Indeed, there was a 5-minute call from a public phone the day before Zachary disappeared. “Instead of suspecting me and questioning me all the time, why don’t you ask Sophie Jenkins? Maybe she did something out of jealousy because she couldn’t become the official wife. The first time she came to make a scene, it was with Zachary, you know.” Detective Edwards said, “Tell us more about that.” I smiled, feeling genuinely cheerful for the first time since hearing that Zachary might have met with an accident. “Because at that time, Sophie didn’t know Zachary had me as his legal wife. When she found out, of course she went to confront him!”

Soon after, I left the police station. I didn’t know that Detective Edwards and his team had a discussion about this case. Detective Edwards asked, “What do you think, sir? Can we trust her?” Detective Thompson shook his head, then nodded. “Rachel Quinn is different from Sophie Jenkins. She has very high psychological resilience. She’s definitely hiding something. Her words are half-truths and half-lies. We can only believe about half of what she says.” The scowling officer, Detective Wilson, said, “In my opinion, we should lock her up and interrogate her repeatedly. It won’t take long before we know exactly what she’s hiding.” Detective Miller scolded him, “Are you trying to get us all fired? Don’t drag us into your misconduct!” Then she turned and pulled out some documents. “Uncle Thompson, according to our investigation, Sophie Jenkins is also hiding something and has a motive for committing a crime.” This piqued everyone’s interest. What motive could a soon-to-be-official mistress have? Could it really be a crime of passion? “The phone records Rachel Quinn gave us show that Sophie Jenkins did indeed use a public phone to call and taunt her the day before, and told her about Zachary Walsh’s plans for the next day.” “We confirmed this from the surveillance cameras near the phone booth. As for the other things Rachel mentioned, including property and car titles, it’s true that none of them are in Sophie’s name. We also found many compromising photos of Sophie on Zachary’s phone, suggesting he might have used them to blackmail her.” “I discovered something else during the investigation,” Detective Miller continued. Detective Thompson gestured for her to go on. “When the Walshes were still happily married, they sponsored many students. Sophie Jenkins was one of them. At first, she was genuinely deceived by Zachary. Many neighbors know about this incident.” Detective Wilson said to Detective Edwards, “The case seems to have become more complicated.” Detective Edwards smiled. “Actually, the case isn’t that complicated. What’s complicated is the human heart.” Detective Thompson made a decision. “Alright, let’s question Sophie Jenkins next.” When I got home, I looked around the empty house and sank comfortably into the couch. Everything belonging to the second person in this house had long been cleared out. Now, this house that Zachary and I had shared after our marriage was no different from the home of any single woman. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Irritated, I dragged myself up to look through the peephole. It was Zachary’s cousin, Zack Walsh. I opened the inner door but left the outer security door locked. At this point, I had zero goodwill towards anyone in the Walsh family and didn’t want to let them set foot in my house. “Sister-in-law!” Zack greeted me enthusiastically, then tried to come in. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” “No,” I said flatly, with no intention of playing host. “I don’t deserve to be called your sister-in-law or a member of the Walsh family. Let’s cut the pleasantries. What are you here for?” When Zachary’s parents were critically ill, Aunt Zoe hadn’t contributed a penny or lifted a finger to help. But as soon as the old couple passed away, she brought her son to demand money. That’s why our two families had a falling out long ago. She stood in front of the coffins with a tattered notebook, itemizing everything—how much more money her parents had given her brother when they divided the family assets, what things Zachary’s parents had borrowed from her after the wedding. Finally, in front of everyone at the funeral, she said, “You’re my nephew’s wife, so I won’t be too hard on you. Back then, when times were tough for everyone, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Then when my poor brother fell ill, I couldn’t say anything either.” “Now that you’re doing well, it’s time to settle these accounts. I won’t ask for too much. Just pay me back based on the current value after the relocation compensation, and we’ll call it even.” Someone couldn’t stand it anymore and spoke up. “Zoe Walsh, what kind of person are you? You didn’t say a word all these years, and now that your brother is dead and not even buried yet, you’re forcing your nephew’s wife to pay up. What kind of logic is that?” Aunt Zoe shot back, “Mind your own business, Zhang! This is a family matter. It’s none of your concern!” Then she turned back to me and said, “I came to help as soon as your in-laws passed away. You’re a respectable person, daughter-in-law. Don’t try to weasel out of this debt!” By that time, I already knew about Zachary’s affair. Even at the funeral, we were like strangers, not exchanging a single word. Seeing Aunt Zoe’s greedy expression made me even more disgusted. “If you think Grandpa and Grandma shortchanged you back then, go ask them about it,” I said coldly. Aunt Zoe immediately became upset. She raised her voice at the funeral, “Everyone here knows that I got less than my fair share back then. My brother knew it too. Now he’s not even in the ground yet, and you’re already denying it!” Zack also got angry. “Sister-in-law, I’ve always been polite to you. Now that you and Zachary are doing well, you won’t even help out family? Not even paying back what you owe? What’s that about?” Zachary, who had been greeting guests outside, finally came in. He arrived just in time to hear these words. “Debt? What debt? Do you have any evidence? Any IOUs? Haven’t I helped you before? You’re just a hopeless case, and you have the nerve to make a scene!” Zack immediately shouted back, “You helped me? You just look down on me. You have such a big company, but you only let me run errands. Meanwhile, you’re living the high life and even keeping a mistress!” Under the watchful eyes of the onlookers, Zachary’s face turned ashen. Seeing that her son was about to derail the conversation, Aunt Zoe quickly handed over that tattered notebook. “How can you say there’s no evidence? Look, look at this. I’ve kept a detailed record of everything over the years, down to the smallest items. It’s been so hard on me.” “Besides, according to the law, I have inheritance rights to my brother and sister-in-law’s property.” I was really tired of dealing with the Walsh family’s nonsense. I replied, “If you want to talk about the law, then go through the legal process. The company was started by Zachary and me together, and we’re both still alive. Where do you get inheritance rights from?” “If you’re talking about inheriting from my in-laws, they’re lying in coffins right behind us. Go wake them up and have them give you whatever you want. I won’t interfere with their belongings. Whatever they say to give you, I’ll give you.” “As for you saying Grandpa and Grandma gave you less back then, go find the elders who were present when the family divided the assets and have them redistribute everything. I have no objections to that either.” The people around us were trying to hide their smiles. My in-laws were dead, and the grandparents and elders who had been present at the family division had long since passed away. “If you’re not satisfied, then sue me. I have plenty of money to hire lawyers and fight you in court. If I lose the case, I’ll pay whatever the court decides!” Aunt Zoe burst into tears and ran to hug my father-in-law’s coffin. “Brother, you’ve just left us, and your son and daughter-in-law are already disowning me. They’re ganging up to bully us. How did I end up with such a miserable life…” Aunt Zoe’s wailing was giving everyone a headache. I decided I’d done my part and got up to leave. After all, I had a clear conscience. Zachary grabbed my arm. “Where are you going? We still need to send my parents off on their final journey.” At that moment, Aunt Zoe was inside, wailing and cursing, “That woman in your family is cold-hearted. No wonder her husband went out to find a mistress.” Zachary looked a bit embarrassed. I laughed coldly. “Where am I going? To rest, of course! I just didn’t want to argue with you at the funeral today.” “For everything else, go find your mistress and deal with it together!” With that, I went home. I heard from relatives later that Zachary really did bring Sophie Jenkins over. When I heard this news, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. I completely ignored it, just focused on taking inventory of our assets and organizing the company shares. I disappointed many people who were hoping to see me make a fool of myself. Similarly, Zachary’s behavior made many of his business partners refuse to work with him anymore, or at least give him a hard time behind the scenes. Only then did Zachary start to behave himself a bit more. So I’ve long known what this family is like. Zack coming to visit me today was definitely up to no good. Hearing my unfriendly tone, Zack put on an angry face. “Don’t be so stubborn. You know what you did. If you still want to live comfortably as a rich woman, you’d better listen to me and give me what I’m owed.” “Keep dreaming. I’ll say it again: if you want to sue, I’ll see you in court.” Zack suddenly gave a strange smile and said in a low voice, “I saw it, you know!” I laughed, exasperated. Zack and Zachary were cut from the same cloth—one a gambler, one a womanizer. I must have been crazy to waste my breath talking to him. “Bang!” I slammed the door in his face. Soon after, I heard cursing from outside the door. “Damn it! Rachel Quinn, you murderer! You’ll regret this! I’m going to report you!” Not long after, I was called to the police station again. But unlike the previous polite conversation, this time I got the treatment that suspects in TV shows usually get. “Rachel Quinn, we’ve received a report that you killed Zachary Walsh. Do you have anything to say about this?” Detective Thompson asked. This time, Detective Thompson and the scowling young officer, Detective Wilson, were questioning me. “A report? Was it Zack Walsh who reported it? He’s just a gambler who would do anything for money. You can’t trust what he says.” I looked at them. “Besides, you don’t have any evidence, and you haven’t issued an arrest warrant. I could sue you for unlawful detention.” Detective Thompson suddenly said, “You probably don’t know yet. We found Zachary Walsh’s body.” Detective Wilson said sarcastically and triumphantly, “We’ve seen plenty of people like you. You’d better tell us everything. Don’t try to hide anything!” The person who reported it wasn’t Zack Walsh. At that time, he was just making threats outside my door. Linjiang Reservoir used to be Linjiang Village. Ten years ago, the government relocated us villagers to Linjiang City to build the reservoir. The villagers and graves were all moved, and the original site became the reservoir area. Well, not all the graves were moved. Many young people from the village had gone to work in big cities. When they made it big, they brought their elderly parents to live with them in the cities. They were too busy with work to move the family graves, so they just swore they would come back every year to tend to the graves. But how could they tend to graves at the bottom of a reservoir? The young people had no choice but to learn how to scuba dive. This year, a young man brought his wife to dive and pay respects to his ancestors. When they went down, they saw Zachary Walsh’s body floating in the water. This news spread quickly. Combined with people hearing about Zack Walsh coming to my door to make a scene, someone reported me and had me arrested. Of course, the two officers didn’t have the kindness to tell me these details. At this point, I didn’t know where exactly the body had been found. “I thought Zack Walsh would keep using this to extort money from me. I didn’t expect him to report it to the police so quickly. If he had been this decisive before, he might have made his fortune already.” Detective Wilson frowned, seeming to want to say something, but Detective Thompson stopped him. “So you admit that you killed Zachary Walsh, right?” “Yes,” I smiled and asked them for a cigarette, slowly confessing the process. After we relocated, Zachary and I used the money to start a small business, contracting landscaping work for residential communities one by one. When the business became somewhat successful, Zachary liked to go fishing at Linjiang Reservoir. His favorite spot was a hill that used to be popular with kids in the old Linjiang Village. This hill used to overlook the entire Linjiang Village, but now it only saw water. He particularly liked this place. Only the Walsh family knew about this. So when Sophie Jenkins called me, I knew Zachary would definitely come to this spot to fish. That’s why what I said earlier about not seeing Zachary was a lie. I did see him, and we got into an argument. That day, he seemed strange, not feeling well, chewing on something in his mouth. When we were arguing, he bit down and swallowed it. Usually, when we argued, it would end up in a physical fight, leaving both of us bruised and battered. But that day, after we pushed each other a few times, he got impatient and turned away, seeming unwilling to fight with me. Zachary said to me, “When I wanted a divorce before, didn’t you drag it out? Now you want a divorce? Well, I’m going to drag it out. I won’t divorce you!” I said, “Zachary Walsh, you bastard. You cheated on me, and your whole family kept it from me. I was in the dark, taking care of your parents. Now I’m done with this, and you won’t sign the divorce papers. How can you do this? Aren’t you afraid of karmic retribution?” Zachary gloated, “The one who can’t have children is you. Let me tell you, I’ve got a mistress now. In a few months, I’ll have a son. I’ll bring them to live wherever you live. Wherever you move, we’ll move there too!” I was shaking with anger, hating him. “I can’t have children because of whom? I’ll ask you one last time! Are you really not going to sign the papers? Even if we go to court?” He laughed loudly, “You’ve tried taking me to court before, haven’t you? Did the judge grant the divorce? If you take me to court again, I’ll admit my mistakes, I’ll repent, I’ll beg you not to divorce me in front of the judge. You still won’t be able to divorce me! Hahaha!” Zachary finished laughing and said, “This is all because you’re greedy. If it weren’t for the fact that you took such good care of my parents, I wouldn’t even let you keep the house you’re living in now. Since you’re so insatiable, you can leave with nothing!” My anger had reached its peak, and I suddenly felt calm. I looked at him coldly, all the love and feelings I once had for him when we struggled together were gone. Time and again, I watched this man become more and more shameless and unfamiliar. He turned his head and sat on a small stool to fish, not looking at me, seemingly certain that I would leave after our argument like before. But this time, I didn’t. I picked up the fishing rod that had fallen to the ground during our scuffle and hit him hard on the head. Zachary fell to the ground. I threw the rod into the reservoir and turned to leave. When I got home, the first thing I did was find a good lawyer and ask for legal advice. “At that time, I wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. Indeed, one shouldn’t do things that weigh on their conscience. I never imagined this scene would be witnessed by Zack Walsh. If I were him, I would have reported it to the police directly instead of hiding the body to blackmail me. If I go to jail, wouldn’t all the money be his?” I finished recounting the process of the incident to the two officers while smoking my third cigarette. I thought about how I had wasted my life on this scumbag, and it really wasn’t worth it. Detective Thompson stood up. “We understand the process of what happened. Next, we will charge you with intentional injury.” I was stunned for a moment, not understanding why it was intentional injury and not murder. Zachary had drowned, which meant that after Zack Walsh discovered this, he went to check on Zachary’s condition after I left. Zachary wasn’t dead; he had just passed out. After considering for a while, Zack dragged Zachary into the bushes, waiting for him to die there. That’s why he didn’t dare to report it to the police and wouldn’t have reported it. “If the case could be closed like this, that would be for the best,” Detective Miller sighed deeply. Detective Edwards continued, “According to Zack Walsh’s statement, he only ignored Zachary’s death and didn’t push him into the water.” “Moreover, he said he knew Zachary was there because Sophie Jenkins told him.” Detective Wilson asked, “Could he be lying?” “We did find an abandoned phone at the scene where Zachary was killed, and there were multiple missed calls from Sophie Jenkins on it. If it was just a normal drowning, we could consider that Zachary woke up and fell into the lake due to a concussion. Sigh!” “We need to be rigorous in our investigation,” Detective Thompson, with years of criminal investigation experience, tapped the table to remind everyone not to let their thoughts wander too much. “There are still things we haven’t discovered about this case. First, where did Zachary’s fishing gear go? Second, who pushed Zachary into the reservoir? And third, the time of death.” At this moment, the forensic expert pushed open the door. “The time of death is here!” He handed the report to everyone. “There’s also an interesting thing. There were remnants of sleeping pills and undigested preserved plums in the victim’s stomach.”

I didn’t expect to be summoned for questioning again so soon. At this time, my lawyer was explaining to me how to defend myself. “Ms. Quinn, do you know what Zachary Walsh ate on the day of the incident?” Detective Thompson asked. I found this question strange. “To be honest, by that point in our relationship, I wouldn’t have cared if he ate dirt.” “Did you bring him anything to eat?” I was even more puzzled. “Putting aside why I would bring him anything, do you think he would eat anything I gave him?” “You like to eat preserved plum candy, don’t you? If Zachary had invited you to talk things over and brought you candy, would you have eaten it?” I sighed deeply. I don’t like preserved plum candy, but if he had come to talk things over properly, I probably would have. They let me go again. The source of the sleeping pills was found. It was in the preserved plum candy that Zachary ate before he left. According to Sophie Jenkins’ statement, she had made the candy by hand. Zachary had asked her to make it, intending for me to eat it. He had told her to put it in any food. Recently, Zachary had bought a large accidental death insurance policy for me, which was one of the reasons he was unwilling to divorce. Sophie thought this man was truly terrifying, wanting to kill his wife when their relationship had broken down. But Sophie couldn’t disobey him. When she first realized she had been tricked, she wanted to have an abortion and leave. But Zachary wouldn’t allow it. He threatened her with her private photos. Sophie’s reputation among Zachary’s family and friends was already bad, which was the result of Zachary’s threats. But back in her hometown, her parents still took pride in her. So she had no choice but to endure. So she put sleeping pills in the homemade preserved plum candy. Because she was pregnant and craving sour and sweet things, it wouldn’t arouse Zachary’s suspicion. When Zachary drove alone to go fishing, Sophie called to sweet-talk him into eating the candy. She hoped Zachary would have an accident on the way due to the effects of the drug. Because if anything happened to Zachary, she wouldn’t have to live with a guilty conscience. If Zachary died, that would be even better. She wouldn’t have to endure a despicable man without dignity, wouldn’t have to worry about being controlled without financial freedom, work freedom, or social freedom, and wouldn’t have to constantly fear being abandoned when she had nothing. She casually told Zack Walsh that Zachary would come into some money soon, and informed him of Zachary’s recent schedule. Zack Walsh, who had no money and was deeply in debt, would definitely go find Zachary. This way, he would be the first to discover Zachary, whether alive or dead. No matter what state Zachary was in, Zack Walsh would notify her. Because notifying her might get him money, but notifying me would definitely not get him any money. But what she didn’t expect was that Zachary disappeared. So Sophie lived in constant fear and anxiety, waiting for judgment. She was afraid he was alive, and afraid he was dead. She was worried that not reporting it would make her suspicious, so she was the first to file a police report, and desperately tried to frame me. Because she knew that no matter whether Zack Walsh went to find Zachary or not, I would definitely go. Sophie was also charged with responsibility. When I heard this news, I laughed coldly but didn’t say much. But the case wasn’t over yet. Both Sophie and I had motives, but according to our statements, neither of us committed the crime. Because Zachary didn’t just drown; there was more to it.

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On my birthday, I was lying at home with a high fever while my girlfriend was at the hospital, carefully tending to her depressed ex-boyfriend. She coldly hung up on my call and sent a message, “Why are you pretending to be sick? You’re a grown man.” After three years of marriage, she was attentive to her ex but indifferent to me, her husband. Later, I finally realized that a woman whose heart you can’t warm should be let go. I chose divorce and even tried to bring them together. But she regretted it and spent a night crouched outside my door, just begging me to look at her one more time. “You know Ethan is very fragile right now. Why did you lie to me about coming home?” Olivia’s voice was filled with impatience over the phone. “And you say you have a high fever? How can a grown man like you get sick so easily? Can you stop being so childish?” I could almost imagine her expression of disgust, disdain, and even contempt. Breathing heavily, I endured the pain throughout my body. I was full of anger, but when I opened my mouth, I felt like I couldn’t say anything. What’s the use of saying anything anyway? “You’ve really disappointed me. I’m not coming home tonight, that’s final!” The call was disconnected. She’s doing it again, planning to stay at the hospital to take care of him all night. Then she’ll sleep by his hospital bed, waiting for his every command. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes at the hospital, I probably wouldn’t have believed that my wife was at the hospital every day taking care of another man. Even the nurses were moved by it. When they showed me the way, they introduced them as the most loving and faithful couple they’d ever seen. This is too ridiculous! Thinking about this, I weakly put down my phone and lay on the living room floor, staring blankly at the ceiling light. It was a bit dazzling. In my daze, I remembered our wedding day, when she held Ethan’s hand with red eyes. I saw her abandoning me during our dates to comfort him when he was in a bad mood. And on countless nights, her body would shy away as soon as I got close. She said she was very traditional and a bit afraid of such things, that we needed to take it slow. Even now, we still haven’t made any progress. In our relationship, she’s always held the upper hand. Whether we’re close or distant depends entirely on her mood. The fever made my head hot, my thoughts were in disarray. In my confusion, I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I felt sore all over. Fortunately, the fever had subsided. After a quick shower, I felt like I had regained some energy, but I was still weak. I called in sick to work. My usually strict boss told me to rest well and take care of my health. I was a bit surprised. Just then, the door opened. Olivia came home looking slightly tired. Seeing that I wasn’t seriously ill, she said mockingly, “Weren’t you sick?” I ignored her sarcasm and just took a sip of warm water, enjoying the feeling of new life. “Cat got your tongue?” Seeing that I didn’t speak, she crossed her arms, looking like she was waiting for an explanation. “Let’s get a divorce.”

“Fine.” Olivia was stunned for a moment, but then agreed without hesitation. I saw a flash of anger on her face and instantly understood her thoughts. She probably thought I was just using another way to threaten her. “Alright, I’ll bring back the divorce papers this afternoon.” After saying this, I changed clothes and left. It turns out, saying it out loud wasn’t difficult. I thought I would feel reluctant, angry, or unwilling to let go. But the moment I actually said it, I felt relieved. Olivia just sat on the couch playing with her phone, not responding to me at all. She just treated it as one of my usual tantrums. After leaving, I bought breakfast and went to the nearest hospital. My father-in-law was currently hospitalized there, and for this period, my mother-in-law and I had been taking turns caring for him. Coincidentally, my company had been particularly busy lately. Every day, besides working overtime, I had to go to the hospital after work to relieve my exhausted mother-in-law. It was non-stop. This routine had continued for a month. Olivia remained indifferent. Not only that, but I was also paying for the expensive medical bills. Olivia’s entire salary was spent on finding psychologists for Ethan. She never had any money left over, and it was good enough that she didn’t ask me for more. I had talked to her about her father’s medical expenses, but she thought I was threatening her. Last night it rained, and to save some money on a taxi, I trudged home in the rain. Combined with the continuous fatigue, my body finally gave in to illness. “Having a son-in-law like you is truly our blessing.” “My wife and I have discussed it. We’ve seen all you’ve done these past days. You’re a good kid, much better than Olivia. We’ve decided to entrust our savings to you.” Hearing my father-in-law say this, I paused while peeling an apple, and quickly refused. In the past, if I could get the support of my in-laws, I would have been overjoyed and unable to sleep. Would their approval improve my relationship with Olivia? I thought about it carefully, but this hypothesis didn’t make me feel joyful. Strangely, I only felt pressure. “Little Ning isn’t really busy, is she? You’ve been lying to us all along. Is she at the hospital looking after that guy again?” Suddenly, my father-in-law sighed. I remained silent, not knowing how to answer. The day my father-in-law was hospitalized, I told Olivia, but she said Ethan was at a critical point and she couldn’t leave. She asked me to take care of her father more. “Look, her own father is sick and she doesn’t care, but she’s looking after some other man!” “How can I trust her with money?” Seeing that I didn’t speak, my father-in-law gave a bitter smile. In the end, I still refused and didn’t mention the divorce. As I was leaving the hospital, I saw Olivia’s social media post. The photo showed two hands tightly clasped in front of a green plant, with the caption “If we persevere together, we can surely thrive like this plant and overcome all difficulties.” I knew those were her and Ethan’s hands. In the past, I would have angrily called her and questioned her. Then she would describe me with words like petty and narrow-minded. Back then, seeing me angry and frustrated, she must have found it laughable, like a child fighting for attention, childish and annoying. But now I didn’t feel anything. I even found it a bit funny. Come to think of it, they really do look like a couple now. Since I’m so redundant, I might as well step out.

I brought the divorce papers home, but the house was empty. I was used to it. In the past, I would have argued with her for not coming home often. At first, she would explain, saying she had to attend dinners or team-building events. Later, she simply remained silent or casually said it was nothing. Now I think this is quite good, not bothering each other. I sent Olivia a message, then threw the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. Counting the days, it had been a long time since I visited my mom. Since my dad passed away, she’s been living alone in an old house in the suburbs. I realized that when I stopped revolving around Olivia, I had a lot more free time. And I had also neglected my family a lot. It’s a good time to go see my mom. After I got home, my mom was overjoyed. “Why did you come alone? Where’s Olivia?” “Did you have fun yesterday?” I was stunned. Fun? “What, did you forget your birthday yesterday? I even called you, and you said you were out with Olivia.” Only then did I remember that I was busy with a project contract at work yesterday. I hurriedly answered my mom’s call and briefly brushed it off. I completely forgot about my birthday as soon as I hung up. I didn’t know how to answer, and I couldn’t explain. It turned out yesterday was my birthday. At least in previous years, Olivia and I would have a meal together. This year, it was completely forgotten. I thought I would feel disappointed and sad. But now that it’s brought up, I only feel guilty towards my mom. “You came back this time, is there any difficulty?” Fortunately, my mom didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she held my hand and asked with a smile. “Don’t worry, Mom has saved up some money for you. If anything’s wrong, just say it.” My eyes turned red, and I repeatedly said there was nothing wrong. I felt very guilty inside. How long had it been since I last came back? Before, every time I came to my mom, it seemed to be for money. Because Olivia never took care of the household, I had to be responsible for the mortgage and car loan, and the pressure was too great. That evening, I enjoyed the dinner very much. After eating, I watched some TV shows with my mom. We were happy and chatty. I hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time. Before, it was all for Olivia, I didn’t have my own life. And now, I can spend any amount of time with my mom. In the evening, I don’t have to make a table full of dishes waiting for her. I can spend an evening eating with my mom, watching dramas, listening to her talk about neighborhood stories. When I go home, I don’t have to think about how to ask for money. In the past, holidays had to fit her schedule. Now I can go wherever I want. Without Olivia, it turns out to be so relaxing and enjoyable. Until the next morning, when I was woken up by my mom’s coughing. When I found her, she was outside the front door, trying hard to cover her mouth, her face red as she coughed. “It’s nothing, just a small problem.” Seeing me come out, she forced a smile and said it was nothing, but the next second she couldn’t help but cough up a bloody phlegm. Without a word, I carried her on my back and took her to the hospital. The examination result: tuberculosis. Looking at my mom’s evasive eyes, I felt extremely heartbroken. The words of questioning that came to my lips turned into complaints, complaining that she didn’t tell me. “Mom is old, there’s no need to waste money on this kind of disease. You’re under so much pressure now, and you have your own family…” Mom seemed a bit embarrassed. I took a deep breath and, ignoring her refusal, forcibly arranged for the best doctor to consult her. When it came time to pay, I found that I didn’t have enough money. I paused for a moment, smiling bitterly as I explained to my mom that the money was with Olivia. But… “That money, it was all borrowed by Ethan for medical treatment. You’ll have to think of another way.” After hearing what I said, Olivia said lightly. As expected. I wasn’t surprised, and I was too lazy to argue with her. I just told her to remember to come home and sign the divorce papers. “Haven’t you had enough?” Her tone finally carried some anger, expressing her dissatisfaction. “I told you, I’m serious.” She still thought I was joking with her. This time, I hung up the phone first.

With no other choice, I went to my father-in-law’s house and told him the truth about my mother’s illness. My father-in-law, who had just been discharged from the hospital, gave me $10,000 without a word. I didn’t refuse, and after taking it, I was about to write an IOU. “The money you spent on our treatment, I’ve kept track of every penny. This is your own money.” My father-in-law refused. Before leaving, he asked about Olivia again. I thought the divorce couldn’t be hidden anyway, so I just told him straight. “What a mess…” I didn’t answer. After giving the money to the hospital, I stayed with my mom at the hospital. She sighed, saying we hadn’t spent so much time together in a long time. I felt extremely ashamed. During this time, Olivia called me to urge me to come home. “I’m not coming back tonight, that’s it.” I didn’t have the heart to talk to her much. After that, I didn’t answer any of her calls. I just chatted with my mom about traveling to relax after she recovered. It wasn’t until the next day, after I had confirmed the surgery date with the doctor and reassured my mom, that I went home. As soon as I got home, I saw Olivia sitting on the sofa with a dark face. “Signed it?” I directly bypassed her to look at the divorce agreement on the table. Unexpectedly, she snatched it first and tore it to pieces. “Enough, Luke. How long are you going to keep this up? Taking things to the point of divorce, just because I didn’t come home that day?” “When did you become so unreasonable? You weren’t like this before!” “Say something!” Olivia was in a rage. I just stood there silently looking at her. In the past, it was always me who was angry and irritable like this. Suddenly, I understood her a little. People who lose control of their emotions are really ugly. “Fine, I know what you mean.” Seeing that I didn’t speak, Olivia sneered and started to undress in front of me, moving very quickly. “What are you doing?” I stopped her. “I know you’re not satisfied with me going to take care of Ethan, but there’s nothing between us. I’m still pure. Now I’m giving myself to you, is that okay?” “You don’t need to refuse, this is my duty as a wife, isn’t it?” After saying this, she pushed away my hand and stubbornly continued to undress. I walked to the window and pulled the curtains. When I turned back, I found her looking at me mockingly: “What, you want to do it in the living room?”

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I broke up with Adrian Guthrie, receiving a $900,000 severance package, a Mercedes, and a condo in downtown Los Angeles. I never knew I was worth so much. After shipping a bunch of stuff back home, I headed to the train station with the designer bag Adrian had bought me just days before. I chose to take the train because I wanted to come full circle. Five years ago, I had arrived in LA by train from a small, nameless town up north, leading to my encounter with Adrian and our subsequent five-year arrangement. I deliberately bought a coach ticket, planning to enjoy the scenery along the way. It seemed fitting for this journey. But as the carriage filled with chatter and various accents, I couldn’t help but shed a tear, falling into deep reminiscence. After dropping out of high school, I had apprenticed at a local hair salon for over a year. Against my family’s wishes, I set off for LA with just $1,500, claiming I wanted to make something of myself. But at nineteen, I was too young and naive to understand the harshness of the world. If I hadn’t met Adrian, I probably wouldn’t have lasted five days before heading back home. As soon as I got off the train, I realized my phone was gone. Faced with the vastness of LA and the bustling streets, I helplessly crouched down and cried. I had less than $100 in cash on me, and my phone contained all my savings. Without it, I couldn’t even get back home. But crying wouldn’t solve anything. I took a cab to the nearest police station to file a report. The officer, seeing how pitiful I looked, let me stay at the station while they checked nearby surveillance cameras for clues. I knew the chances were slim. In such a crowded place, a skilled pickpocket could easily snatch a phone without being noticed. It was at the police station that I first met Adrian. He was there for a traffic incident, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the surroundings. We sat next to each other, me looking miserable, him expressionless. Seemingly bored, Adrian struck up a conversation. “What brings you here, little miss? In trouble?” I glanced at him, thinking I might have swooned if not for the circumstances. But as soon as I opened my mouth, I burst into tears. “My phone was stolen.” Adrian looked a bit flustered, quickly grabbing some tissues and handing them to me. “Oh, it’s not a big deal. Can’t your parents just buy you a new one?” This only made me cry harder. Perhaps I needed an outlet for my frustration, so I sobbed out my whole unfortunate story. I was crying so hard I started hiccupping. Adrian seemed a bit put off, inching away as if afraid I’d get snot and tears on his suit. “Young people need to face some setbacks,” he said. “When I was in my teens, I went to study in Europe with just a few hundred dollars. I lost it all and had to work part-time jobs for a year to make ends meet.” Looking at his expensive suit and designer watch, I figured he must be doing well now. His past hardships hadn’t been in vain. Just then, the officer handling my case returned with a shifty-looking middle-aged man and my phone. I don’t know how they caught him, but I was so happy I gave the officer a big hug before scurrying out of the station. In my excitement, I completely forgot about the man in the suit. Looking back, I regret not sneaking a photo – he was so handsome. I found a job as a hairstylist assistant through an online job board. They said I wasn’t qualified to be a full stylist yet, and the assistant position only paid $1,800 a month, but it included housing. In hindsight, I was lucky in my naivety. Not only did I get my phone back, but my first job was at a legitimate salon. I could have easily fallen prey to a scam or worse. After working there for about a month, I saw Adrian for the second time. He came to the salon for a haircut, still in his impeccable suit, driving a black Mercedes. I was assigned to wash his hair. He squinted at me, seeming to find me familiar but not quite placing me. After the wash, he suddenly pointed at me and said, “I want her to cut my hair.” “Mr. Guthrie, she’s new and might not be skilled enough yet,” the stylist said, looking worried. It would be a small matter if I messed up, but offending a customer would be a big deal. Adrian waved his hand, insisting. The stylist had no choice but to give me a “good luck” look. Halfway through the cut, Adrian suddenly said, “I remember you now. You were at the police station that day, weren’t you?” I felt incredibly awkward, not wanting my coworkers to know about the police station incident. We’d been working together for a while, and knowing too much could make things uncomfortable. Without thinking, I covered his mouth with my hand, smearing his face with hair clippings. Adrian’s face darkened. Realizing my mistake, I quickly apologized. How stupid of me! Perhaps seeing me in such a vulnerable state before made me unsure how to face him now. Or maybe it was just the classic Cinderella-meets-CEO moment meant to happen. Aside from my competitive coworkers, Adrian became the first person I grew familiar with in LA. I still don’t know how my silly self caught Mr. Guthrie’s eye back then. He asked me out on an ordinary evening as I was leaving work with my colleagues. I saw him leaning against his car, smoking. It was the same Mercedes, perfectly matching his aura. My coworkers nudged me, hinting that Adrian was there for me. But I stood frozen, my whole body stiff. At nineteen, I might have been young, but I wasn’t completely clueless. I could understand Adrian coming to the salon frequently for haircuts, but now he was waiting for me so blatantly. I could no longer ignore that strange feeling. Did he want to sleep with me? I was self-aware enough to know that besides my young, pretty face, I had little to offer him. Seeing that I wasn’t moving, Adrian stubbed out his cigarette and walked over, unceremoniously pushing me towards the car. “Come on, let’s go get dinner.” Under my colleagues’ burning gazes, I got into the Mercedes’ passenger seat. After driving for five minutes, I finally spoke up. “Do you… want to sleep with me?” As soon as I asked, my face felt like it was on fire. It was awkward to ask, but I had to. My parents were honest, hardworking people, and although I was a bit rebellious, I had never done anything too out of line. I hadn’t even liked anyone before. If I hadn’t met Adrian, my life would probably have been very ordinary. Maybe I’d go back home one day and marry some local guy, or maybe I’d stay in LA and keep working menial jobs. But I did meet Adrian, and even when I asked such a blunt question, he just glanced at me and nodded. Seeing my disbelieving look, he explained, “You’re cute and pretty. It’s not strange that I’d want something to happen between us, is it?” “But… no, let me out. I won’t do it,” I wanted to say so much. I felt it was insulting, but he was so straightforward that I found myself at a loss for words. “How about I become your sugar daddy? $15,000 a month,” Adrian said. This was even more shocking than a one-night stand. I couldn’t believe that I would be associated with the term “sugar baby.” But at that moment, I became surprisingly calm. Even now, five years later, I can’t remember exactly how I reacted. All I know is that by the time I came to my senses, I was sitting with Adrian in a restaurant, and I had agreed to his proposal. Maybe it was vanity, or maybe I had read too many romance novels. Under those conditions, it was hard not to be tempted. But after agreeing, I felt regretful. My parents hadn’t raised me to be someone’s mistress. But it was too late. For a long time afterward, I was torn between feeling that my actions were immoral and indulging in the lifestyle. I still remember that Adrian took me to eat hot pot that night. After dinner, he took me straight to his apartment. It wasn’t very big, just a two-bedroom, but I ended up living there for five years. He didn’t do anything that night, perhaps sensing my nervousness. He was even considerate enough to sleep in separate rooms. Later, when I asked him about it, he said, “You smelled like hot pot and had this ‘sacrificial lamb’ look on your face. You were even trembling when I held your hand. It completely killed the mood.” What he didn’t know was that even with his concession, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The next day, after work, I moved my things into his apartment with his help. I stayed at the salon for another week before I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand my colleagues’ looks and whispers. But I couldn’t deny it either – after all, I had indeed started an inappropriate relationship with Adrian, as they said. After quitting, I didn’t just sit around. Adrian gave me six months’ worth of money upfront, very generously. With $90,000 in my account, I didn’t know how to spend it, so I signed up for a bunch of classes – art, yoga, English, you name it. The reason I hadn’t continued my education before was due to my mediocre grades and rebellious attitude. Now, sitting down to study again, I found I had more patience. Adrian said, “Not bad, you know how to please your sugar daddy.” I pushed him away, annoyed. “I’m just bored. I’m rich now, you know. If I don’t spend it, it’ll just collect dust.” Adrian pressed me down on the couch, his breathing heavy. “Then how about pleasing your sugar daddy now?” I was still nervous, but I leaned in and kissed him on the lips, my attempts at seduction clumsy. Our first time wasn’t exactly great. I was too afraid of pain, so I started resisting and refusing as soon as he entered me. But with things already in motion, he couldn’t just stop, so we went through with it. Initially, he didn’t come every day. Sometimes it was every two weeks, sometimes every few days. We didn’t always have sex either. But when he discovered I couldn’t cook, he complained, “Damn, I’m paying all this money and getting nothing but sex in return. I’ve brought a freeloader into my home.” However, he didn’t force me to learn. When he came over, we’d order takeout or go out to eat. Occasionally, he’d cook. But since I was bored anyway, I decided to take some cooking classes too. The first time I cooked, I made four dishes. Three were disasters, and only the tomato and egg stir-fry was barely edible. It was my least favorite dish, but Adrian ate it happily, even mixing it with rice and finishing the small plate. He was being very polite. After eating, he grumbled, “You’re the real boss here,” and then went to make me a bowl of noodles. But my cooking skills improved quickly. My dishes went from looking okay to tasting okay, and eventually became delicious. I couldn’t compete with restaurant chefs, but I could handle home cooking just fine. When I first came to LA, I had a short, chin-length haircut that made me look cute and lively. By the time my hair reached my shoulders, Adrian and I had grown much closer. By the time I had long hair down to my waist, Adrian and I had become accustomed to each other. He would let me know if he wasn’t coming home at night, though he didn’t report his entire schedule. If he wasn’t coming back, he’d always say, “Lock the door and take care of yourself.” Aside from the monthly $15,000 deposit, I almost believed we were in a real relationship. Two years into our arrangement, Adrian’s family found me. It was his mother. When I got home one day, she was already sitting on the sofa, dressed in designer clothes and expensive jewelry. Adrian had shown me her photo before, so I recognized her immediately – a true socialite. I felt awkward and even scared, remembering scenes from novels where the rich mother throws money at the mistress and tells her to stay away from her son. I wondered if I should take the money and leave, or righteously declare, “I don’t want your dirty money. We’re in love!” But Adrian’s mother was different from what I had imagined. She just patted the sofa beside her, gesturing for me to sit down. She was even kind, you could say. “So you’re Mia? How long have you been with Adrian?” she asked. I felt exposed in front of her. “A little over two years,” I replied. She nodded, looking me over. “You are very pretty. No wonder Adrian comes here so often.” My face instantly turned red with embarrassment and guilt. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” She shook her head, smiling. “Don’t be nervous. I just wanted to meet you. I have no other intentions. After all, you’ve been with him for so long. I’m like half a parent to you.” It seemed she knew about our arrangement, referring to me being “with him” rather than us being “together.” This made me feel a bit relieved. “Adrian’s company is close by, so he often stays here,” I explained. His mother didn’t say anything more and left soon after, as if she really had just come to see me. It wasn’t until Adrian and I separated that I understood.

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He claimed it was just borrowing sperm, a simple transaction. Yet every holiday, I found myself with only half the gifts, forever the afterthought, the leftover. This isn’t just a secret; it’s a betrayal that her husband deserves to know. Because how can I ever find my true love if I remain shackled to the ghost of their deceit? Elena’s post hit like a slap in the face, but this slap came slow, deliberate, savoring every sting it left behind. The ultrasound was the centerpiece—a blurred, wriggling shadow growing inside her. And the caption—god, the caption—dripped with condescending sweetness. “Thank you to my dear Mike for lending me the gift I needed when I was most helpless. Soon, we’ll meet our little miracle.” As if Mike had merely donated a pen, a book—something insignificant. Not like he’d lent her sperm. My fingers hovered over the screen for what felt like an eternity. Every letter of my comment seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. “Congratulations to both of you,” I typed, my heart shattering with each word. And yet, as I hit send, it was as if I’d just let go of the last thread of dignity I had left. Mike’s voice came through like a thunderclap, full of fury and disdain. “I just lent my sperm to Elena, can you stop making a fuss?” The coldness in his voice had settled deep into my chest, numbing the ache that once throbbed there. It was clear—it’s time to let go. I placed my trembling hands over my slightly bulging belly. The life growing inside me was supposed to be our future,and I had planned to surprise Mike on our anniversary, imagining his face lighting up with joy. But now, that fantasy shattered before me. He didn’t deserve it—didn’t deserve us. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the baby inside me, my voice breaking. This was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter, a fresh start. Instead, it was a quiet farewell, to a life that could have been, and to a man who never truly cared. The dam inside me broke, and tears began to spill down my cheeks. Mike never wanted this, never wanted us. The intimacy between us had been hollow for years, each touch empty, each kiss colder than the last. That night, Mike came home early, something he rarely did. I heard him call my name from the hallway, his voice carrying a forced warmth that made my stomach turn. But I couldn’t answer him. I lay still in the bedroom, the silence between us thick, like an ocean of words unspoken. The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom, and with each drip, my heart sank deeper. The sound of the water stopped, and the door creaked open. In the darkness, I felt him—his presence as undeniable as the ache in my chest. He moved quietly, deliberately, like a shadow slipping into the room. I could hear his soft footsteps, the rustle of his clothes, but I refused to move, to acknowledge him. Then, out of nowhere, he was beside me, his arms wrapping around my waist. It was the first time in what felt like forever that he had reached for me, touched me as though I mattered. His warmth seeped through my thin pajamas, an unexpected and unsettling comfort. His body pressed against mine, but my heart was already miles away, frozen like stone. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I kept my breath steady, unwilling to let him see the storm raging inside me. This sudden tenderness wasn’t love. It was a last gasp. “Wife, I lent my sperm just to help her fulfill a wish. I promise, as soon as she gives birth, I’ll end things with her completely.” The flattery in his tone, the pleading—it was hollow, like he was trying to plaster over a gaping wound with flimsy words. His voice shifted, the tone growing sharp, laced with impatience. “I’ve been so humble to please you, aren’t you satisfied?” “Don’t forget it was you,” he continued, his words biting, “You said you want to be with me no matter who I had been with.” “I could have kept it from you, but I told you out of respect, and now you’ve really disappointed me.” . “Think carefully about how I’ve treated you recently,” his voice laced with frustration. “You want a child, and I’ve tried my best to accommodate you.” With that, he slammed the door, the echo of it reverberating through the room, leaving me gasping for air, drowning in the suffocating darkness. Mike had disappeared before dawn, vanishing like a ghost, leaving the house cold and empty. I was alone, and the weight of it crushed me. The silence was unbearable, and a part of me knew—I deserved this. I had allowed myself to fall so deeply into this trap, to believe in a love that had long since withered. The phone rang several times, and I reluctantly answered. It was John, one of Mike’s colleagues, expressing concern with a kindness I couldn’t even register. But in his well-meaning words, he let something slip. Mike hadn’t been at work recently. He’d been with her—taking care of Elena. My heart shattered, but I had no time to let the pain consume me. I dragged myself to the hospital, every step heavy with dread, knowing what I had to do. I couldn’t bring this child into a world where love didn’t exist, where the only thing waiting for us was abandonment and betrayal. The abortion was quick. Too quick. Ten minutes was all it took for the life inside me to be erased. When they wheeled me out, I felt hollow, like a shell of the person I used to be. My face was pale, my hands trembling as I numbly handed over my credit card to pay the bill.

But fate, cruel as ever, wasn’t finished with me. As I turned to leave, I saw him. Mike. Standing there, holding Elena by the shoulders, his face twisted in anger. He spotted me before I could slip away, and in an instant, his expression darkened. “Are you following me?” he barked, his voice filled with accusation, as though I were the one intruding on his life, as if I were the problem here. My body still ached from the procedure, my heart even more so. Instead of answering Mike, I turned my gaze to Elena. She shifted uncomfortably under my stare. But rather than confronting the weight of the moment, she feigned anger, pulling Mike’s ear playfully, her voice dripping with insincerity. “How can you talk like that? Why would Mary follow us? We’re open and honest with each other, and it’s not like Mary doesn’t understand.” All I could manage was a bitter smile, tinged with the sharp taste of irony. “Yes, what does it have to do with me if you and your wife come for a prenatal checkup? Why would I follow you?” But Mike’s anger flared, and his voice sliced through the tension. “What do you mean? I only regard Elena as my sister!”

3 Elena’s eyes glinted with mischief as she accused Mike, her voice dripping with mock outrage. “How could you do that?!” she yelled, but that sly smile gave her away. A wave of nausea hit me, and I leaned heavily against the wall, gritting my teeth against the pain. Suddenly, she collapsed dramatically onto the ground, clutching her stomach and wailing, “I can’t believe this is happening!” The absurdity of her antics clashed with my suffering, amplifying the tension as I struggled to rise, feeling utterly betrayed by the chaos swirling around me. “Mike, don’t!” I wanted to scream, but the words lodged in my throat as he rushed to Elena’s side, leaving me behind. “If anything happens to Elena, I will never forgive you!” he shouted, his voice echoing in my ears like a death knell. A cold sweat broke out across my skin as pain coursed through me, each pulse feeling like a knife cutting deeper. “I’m even more glad I didn’t have this child,” I thought bitterly, irony and sadness twisting in my chest. “How can a man who doesn’t even love his wife truly love her child?” When I finally made it home, my hands trembled as I reached for my phone, desperate to pour out my resentment and pain. But then I saw it—Elena’s post. The image of Mike’s back loomed like a shadow, the caption cutting deep: “With a man who loves me like this, I feel safe.” Jorge’s comments stung like venom, each word dripping with disdain. “You’ve been with Elena for so many years, and everyone knows you can’t let go, so why don’t you follow your heart?” His sarcastic tone ignited a fire in me, fanning the flames of my anger. I couldn’t hold it back any longer; my fingers flew over the screen as I typed, “We’re getting divorced soon. I can’t believe you’ve been worrying about Mike for all these years.” As I hit send, a surge of satisfaction coursed through me, washing away the weight of unspoken grievances. Then, I opened my Moments and selected two pictures, one of which was a pregnancy report, and the other was a miscarriage report. A complex emotion surged in my heart, and I typed: “Finally I can be free.” At that moment, it seemed that all the repression and pain were released in this sentence.

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I’m Sweet and Kind in Front of My Boyfriend, But Vicious and Cunning to His Sister I subtly turned this family upside down. Eventually, I drove his sister to jump off a building. In the bitter winter, her crimson blood seeped into the pristine snow. It looked exactly like the scene when my sister died years ago. This was the first time Ryan brought me to meet his parents. Looking at the upscale neighborhood before me, I nervously tugged at his sleeve and asked, “What if your parents don’t like me?” Ryan ruffled my hair reassuringly. “My parents aren’t that picky. Don’t worry, I’m here with you.” With that, he held my hand tightly and walked in. Having lived as a dependent for years, I was adept at reading people’s reactions. I could sense that Ryan’s parents were quite satisfied with me, especially when they saw the gifts I brought. They couldn’t stop praising my thoughtfulness. Ryan chimed in at the right moment: “Dad, Aria knew you’re into tech research, so she specifically bought you the latest Alienware laptop.” “Mom, this bag is from Aria’s business trip to Europe. She went to five different streets to get this new release. It’s not even available in the States yet.” Emma, however, looked at the clothes in her hands and asked confusedly, “What brand is this? Where’s the label?” I explained, “Emma, I heard from your brother that you’ve been into qipaos recently. As I studied fashion design, I thought I’d make one for you myself.” Of course, I had chosen ordinary silk fabric that only cost a few dollars wholesale. Emma frowned slightly, clearly unimpressed. “What’s with that attitude?” Ryan, displeased with his sister’s reaction, spoke up to defend me. “Aria stayed up several nights to make this dress for you. She even hurt her hands!” Emma glanced at her parents’ expensive gifts, then at the cheap item in her hands. She pursed her lips but said nothing more. That night, I deliberately ate two bowls of rice, my stomach aching from being overly full. Yet, I maintained a smile on my face, praising the deliciousness of the meal. “No wonder Ryan grew so tall. It’s not just Mr. Parker’s excellent genes, but also Mrs. Parker’s superb cooking skills.” Mrs. Parker was very pleased with this comment, beaming from ear to ear. She paused for a moment, then added regretfully, “But now Ryan rarely comes home, and Emma is always on about dieting. If only they were like you, I’d have more motivation to cook.” I smiled wryly. “Ryan is just too busy with work, it can’t be helped. But why is Emma on a diet? She’s already so thin! If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to resist Mrs. Parker’s delicious food. Who cares about gaining weight? Health is what matters.” “Exactly! Well said!” Hearing this, Mrs. Parker pointed at Emma, who was flipping through a magazine, and complained, “Look at you, you don’t know how good you have it!” Emma’s face darkened, and she gave me a meaningful look. She wasn’t angry because of the scolding, but because I wasn’t the one being scolded. I smiled. This was nothing compared to what was coming. I’ll never forget that winter night ten years ago. My older sister leaped from the rooftop like a desperate, broken-winged bird, shattering into pieces, her body a bloody mess. She died tragically, but resolutely. That image was etched deep into my bones, leaving me utterly hopeless. It turns out that when people are in extreme pain, they remain silent, unable to make any sound at all. At that moment, I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. I stared blankly as the glaring red gradually became covered by the pristine white snow. My hand loosened, and the bag of candied chestnuts fell to the ground. A few rolled out, crushed under the panicked crowd’s feet, as if they were crushing someone else’s entire life. After our parents died in a car accident, our uncle took responsibility for caring for me and my sister, conveniently taking the compensation money as well. The two sisters lived under someone else’s roof, enduring cold stares. Fortunately, we were both diligent, always at the top of our class. My sister often told me to hang in there, promising that she would give me the best life in the future, and we wouldn’t have to swallow our pride and endure others’ contempt anymore. But for some reason, her grades started plummeting from her junior year of high school. In the end, unable to bear the pressure, she committed suicide by jumping off a building. At the time, this incident even made it to the newspapers, with the theme of caring for the mental health of teenagers. But I always felt something was off. My sister rarely came home as she lived in the school dorms. Her belongings were reluctantly packed up from her dorm room by our aunt and uncle. They put her things in a box. Aunt wouldn’t let me touch it, saying it was unlucky. She was hesitant to throw it away but also fearful of keeping it, so she ended up locking it in the attic. A year later, when I graduated from middle school, my uncle’s family of three went on vacation during the summer break, leaving me the key and telling me to watch the house. I took the opportunity to open the attic door, found the box, and discovered my sister’s diary. It was filled with detailed records of her being bullied. Some of the writing was blurred by tears, but it couldn’t hide the horrifying experiences. It was as if I had opened Pandora’s box. My hands couldn’t stop shaking. The culprit was Emma Parker. She wasn’t from a wealthy family, but her family was well-off. She was pretty and always had a group of followers who obeyed her every command. My sister had excellent grades, but because of her aloof personality and a birthmark on her face, she inexplicably became Emma’s target and a source of amusement during her reckless years. Emma and her gang cornered my sister in the bathroom, stripped her clothes off, and took photos to blackmail her into keeping quiet. In the dorm room, Emma tied up my sister’s hands and feet, gagged her, wrapped her in a quilt, and beat her. Apparently, this was a method used by prison inmates to bully newcomers. It was very painful but didn’t leave visible marks. Emma never tired of it, constantly coming up with new ways to torment her. Putting thumbtacks in her shoes, throwing her backpack in the pool, pouring drinks on her bed… Teenage girls are like apples on early autumn branches, slightly sour but sweet, waiting to ripen and fall. But if a worm gets in, and isn’t removed in time, the rot will only spread until the fruit completely withers. Emma was that worm. Finally, my sister couldn’t take it anymore and sought help from a teacher. But her classmates all said Emma was cheerful and generous, and had never bullied anyone. The matter was dismissed. Things seemed to calm down for a while. Little did we know, it was just the calm before the avalanche. One night, as my sister was dozing off, she was suddenly tied up and gagged. When the lights came on, it was Emma’s sweet yet vicious smile. Her followers surrounded them. Emma held an electric shaver in her hand. The buzzing sound was like a demon’s whisper, beating against every nerve in my sister’s scalp. Chunks of black hair fell, stripping away her last shred of dignity. Emma stroked my sister’s bald head, very satisfied. But it wasn’t over. She produced a thick iron chain from somewhere and put it around my sister’s neck, laughing wildly, boasting that this was her pet dog. Then she took out her phone and video called her brother. The camera was pointed at my sister. The siblings critiqued my sister’s appearance, their words like cold knives stabbing into her organs. Through the screen, my sister heard Ryan’s deep, contemptuous voice. He said, “What an obedient dog. I’ve taken a screenshot, I’ll share it with the boys.” “Wait,” Emma added, “Bro, I have even better photos here, the kind where she’s not wearing anything. I’ll send them to you.” She looked at my sister, raising her eyebrows triumphantly: “I warned you before not to talk nonsense, but you were just too disobedient.” The mocking laughter never ceased, successfully breaking down my sister’s last psychological defense. After that, rumors spread throughout the class, saying she was dirty, so dirty that she had lice in her hair. Everyone avoided her, building an invisible wall three feet away, standing on top of it to point and whisper. Even the places she walked and the things she used had to be sprayed with disinfectant. She started having frequent nightmares, couldn’t rest well, her grades plummeted, and she often had hallucinations, her mental state becoming abnormal. I remember when my sister came home one weekend, she looked at me quietly, her bright eyes clearly reflecting my image. At that moment, it was as if I was her entire world. I froze and asked, “Sis… where’s your hair?” “It was so itchy, itchy to the point that my heart and lungs were burning with discomfort, so I shaved it off.” She caressed my cheek with a loving expression. I was about to say something when I heard our aunt’s impatient voice from the living room: “Which one of you is going out to buy groceries? Two extra mouths to feed out of nowhere, and not a bit of consideration!” Hearing this, my sister smiled at me gently, took out five dollars, and said, “You go. And buy a bag of candied chestnuts while you’re at it. I know you’ve been craving them.” “Okay, we’ll eat them together when I get back!” I ran hurriedly, wanting to come back and have a good heart-to-heart with my sister. Little did I know, that would be our final goodbye. I never forgot Emma Parker. Nor did I forget her brother who aided and abetted her. Apparently, he was the campus heartthrob at his university. I found his photo on the school website and learned about his post-graduation whereabouts from the forum. I closely followed his social media accounts and went to great lengths to guess his preferences. In my junior year of college, I interned at Ryan’s company, deliberately getting close to him, creating an image of a Mary Sue protagonist from a poor background, orphaned, but excellent in academics and working part-time jobs, refusing to bow to fate. Little did he know, I was following a revenge script. I was pretty, smart, and had a good personality. I quickly caught Ryan’s attention and made him actively pursue me. I didn’t love him, so I could also keep him in check. In the second year of our relationship, I proposed breaking up, saying I had fallen for someone else. Ryan didn’t believe it. He started following me. When I returned to the old neighborhood and deliberately provoked my aunt to get angry, deliberately forcing her to lay hands on me, with my cries echoing in the alley, Ryan kicked the door open. He played the role of a hero saving the damsel in distress. At that time, I was covered in bruises. I bit my lip, tears in my eyes, looked at him, and said word by word: “You should go. I don’t want to drag you down.” I had practiced this expression in front of the mirror countless times, not missing a single detail. Even the loose strands of hair falling on my forehead added a touch of beauty to the scene. Pitiful and helpless. Like a desperate and helpless little deer. Ryan’s eyes were full of heartache. He reached out and hugged me, saying firmly: “Don’t say such nonsense. As long as I’m here, no one can bully you.” I buried my face in his chest, the corners of my mouth slightly curled up. The fish had taken the bait. Later, that sentence would come true for Emma. That night, there was a heavy rainstorm with thunder and lightning. I stayed at Ryan’s place. The next day, however, I found a qipao in the kitchen trash can, cut to pieces. My shoulders trembled slightly, and I looked at Emma in disbelief. She explained nervously: “I didn’t cut it! I just threw…” Her voice trailed off. Emma lowered her head guiltily. She had never liked the gift and didn’t think much of me, so she was naturally eager to throw it away. At the time, the qipao was still covered by a pile of fruit peels and paper scraps. I had secretly dug it out in the middle of the night and cut it to pieces myself. Ryan shouted angrily at Emma: “You’ve gone too far! No manners at all!” Hmph, manners? The pot calling the kettle black. I suppressed the cold mockery in my heart, my eyes slightly red, head lowered, and said to Emma in an almost humble tone: “I’m sorry, I didn’t consider it properly this time. I’ll get you something else next time, as an apology.” Ryan was extremely distressed. He put his arm around me and said angrily: “What apology? If anything, she should be apologizing to you!” Mrs. Parker was also disappointed: “Child, how come you’re getting more and more ill-mannered as you grow up? It was Aria’s heartfelt gift after all!” Emma was stunned, feeling wronged. Under Ryan’s stern rebuke, she very reluctantly apologized to me. On the way back, Ryan looked guilty: “Emma has been spoiled by the family, doing whatever she wants. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I shook my head: “This little grievance is nothing to me. Besides, your sister is just a bit spoiled, but she’s not bad-hearted. Ryan, you don’t need to blame her too much.” Ryan stroked my cheek, his eyes filled with even more guilt. After that, I often visited Mrs. Parker. I was always courteous and never empty-handed. When she cooked, I helped cut vegetables. After meals, I took the initiative to wash dishes. I found various ways to praise her culinary skills, invited her to go shopping and watch plays on weekends, shared trivial matters around me, and health tips I saw online. From time to time, I would sigh: “It feels so good to have a mom around.” Every time Mrs. Parker heard this, she couldn’t help but sigh, then hold my hand affectionately and say, “Aria, from now on, you’re a member of the Parker family.” I’m not stupid. I’m not Mrs. Parker’s child, how could she truly care about me? She was just too lonely. Ryan and Emma had grown up and had their own lives. Mr. Parker was a university professor, always either writing papers or doing experiments. Mrs. Parker was getting on in years, with no friends and no social life. She just hoped to have someone to keep her company. Occasionally when we went shopping and met sweet-talking salespeople, they would enthusiastically praise: “Ma’am, you’re so blessed. Your daughter is beautiful and filial, buying you so many things.” It didn’t matter, I was using Ryan’s card anyway. At first, Mrs. Parker would explain that I was her daughter-in-law, but soon, she just smiled and accepted it. One day, I was carrying bags of shopping with Mrs. Parker when we returned home. We turned on the lights to find Emma looking displeased. She quickly glanced at me, then looked at Mrs. Parker, her expression aggrieved, and asked, “Mom, today is my birthday. Do you remember?” There was a birthday cake on the table. The candles had already gone out. Mr. Parker was out of town for an academic conference. Ryan was also away on a business trip and couldn’t return anytime soon. Emma had recently broken up with her boyfriend and had a falling out with her best friend. In the empty house, there was only one forgotten birthday girl. Mrs. Parker was stunned. She had clearly forgotten. But I remembered. That’s why I deliberately took Mrs. Parker to see a comedy show she liked, and deliberately bought tickets for the late show. I smiled and said to Emma, “Of course we remembered. That’s why Mom specifically took me shopping today to buy you lots of new clothes.” Mrs. Parker came to her senses and hurriedly said, “Yes, yes, Emma, try them on quickly.” She looked at me with disgust and asked, “Who do you think you are? What right do you have to interfere in matters between my mother and me? What, you don’t have a mom so you’re trying to steal someone else’s?” Mrs. Parker’s face changed. She frowned, “Emma! How can you talk like that!” Hearing this, I silently put down the bags. As I bent down, I bit my tongue hard, immediately causing tears to flow. When I raised my head again, it was a face streaked with tears. I sniffled and said in a choked voice, “Emma, I know you don’t like me, but shouldn’t there be at least some basic respect? Besides, your birthday is also the day your mother went through hardship to give birth to you. If you can’t be grateful, at least don’t blame your elders, right?” With that, I ignored Mrs. Parker who wanted to wipe my tears and left directly. That night, Ryan called. His voice was lazy as he asked, “Honey, where did you and mom go play today?” I didn’t say anything. I just kept sniffling. There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then his tone became serious: “Are you crying?” I let out a long sigh and said chokingly, “No, I just watched a pretty heartbreaking movie.” “What’s it called?” “… I don’t remember.” Ryan wanted to say something more, but I interrupted him: “Ryan, I’m a bit tired. I’m going to sleep now.” I immediately turned off my phone. The next morning, Ryan appeared at my doorstep. There were faint dark circles under his eyes, clearly he hadn’t slept all night. I put on a surprised expression: “Why did you come back?” Ryan reached out and hugged me, saying guiltily, “Aria, Mom told me everything.” “I scolded Emma harshly. That girl is really hateful. She’s three years older than you, yet not even half as good as you.” I said helplessly, “Let it go, I won’t hold it against her. But Ryan, I was really embarrassed yesterday. I left without saying goodbye to your mom. I feel bad about it now. I want to buy her a necklace.” “It’s okay, my mom feels like she owes you an apology instead.” I pursed my lips and said nothing. Ryan tapped my nose. “Why don’t we buy two necklaces? One for each of you.” He increased the credit limit on his card. I bought two identical diamond necklaces, which were quite expensive. When I gave it to Mrs. Parker, I said, “Mom, as they say, ‘a child’s birth is a mother’s ordeal.’ This is my heartfelt thought. From now on, whenever it’s Ryan’s or Emma’s birthday, I’ll prepare a gift for you too.” She was so moved after hearing this that she couldn’t help but say, “If only Emma was half as thoughtful as you.” On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, everyone gathered for a meal. When Emma saw her mother and me wearing matching necklaces, her face turned extremely cold. It wasn’t hard to see that she was eating this meal with a heavy heart. But my appetite was excellent. Mr. Parker was a man of few words. I heard that he was single-mindedly devoted to his research, hoping to win a Nobel Prize in his lifetime, and never cared about anything else. Sure enough, Mr. Parker hurriedly ate a few bites and then left, heading straight for the university laboratory. After the meal, Mrs. Parker suddenly had the urge to show me Ryan’s childhood photos. I smiled and played along for a few sentences, then said, “Mom, I’d like to see Emma’s photos too. She’s so beautiful, she must have been pretty since she was little.” No mother dislikes others praising her children. She hurriedly took out another photo album, explaining as she flipped through it, finally coming to Emma’s high school years. There were two group photos. One was from freshman orientation, and one was from just before graduation. My sister wasn’t in the latter. She originally had a bright future ahead of her, but was forever stuck at seventeen. Mrs. Parker was still chattering on, boasting that Emma often received love letters from boys in high school. Ryan came back from smoking on the balcony and heard this. He sneered, “Emma even chased after the sports representative in her class back then, but unfortunately, he liked the class monitor and rejected her.” Mrs. Parker was surprised, “Oh my, I didn’t know about this. Looks like you two siblings kept quite a few secrets from me.” Ryan’s lips curled into a smile as he continued, “And that class monitor was an ugly girl with a weird personality. It really pissed off your precious daughter at the time.” My sister… was the class monitor. So there was this layer of history. Whether it was suicidal thoughts or jealousy, the impulsiveness of youth was like a bolt of lightning during a tribulation. My sister didn’t dodge it, but Emma successfully cultivated herself. As if on cue, she came out of the shower, drying her wet hair, and said disdainfully, “Just thinking about that short-lived ghost makes me feel unlucky.” I struggled to steady my trembling voice and asked, “Short-lived ghost?” Mrs. Parker suddenly remembered, “Oh, that girl who committed suicide by jumping off a building because her grades dropped? Tsk tsk, with such poor ability to handle pressure, she wouldn’t have amounted to much in society anyway.” Emma sneered, “Mom, you can tell just by looking at her face. Your face reflects your heart, and she had a birthmark on her face, proving her heart was dark too.” What absurd logic! I looked at Emma and raised an eyebrow, “So, you knew her well?” Emma’s face flashed with discomfort. She shrugged, “Anyway, the whole class disliked her.” Then she looked at Ryan meaningfully and said, “In the past, when someone upset me, my brother would always stand on my side. Now it’s different.” Ryan seemed to think of something, his expression stiffened, and he didn’t speak anymore. I lowered my eyes, caressing my sister’s face in the photo, and calmly said, “This girl must have been bullied a lot in class.” Mrs. Parker didn’t seem to care much, “Well, she should look for reasons within herself. Why bully her and not others?” …Well, it’s parents like this that raise children like that. Emma said coldly, “That’s right. Anyway, she deserved to die. If she were alive, she’d just be wasting social resources. She might as well be reborn as a dog.” I took a deep breath, barely suppressing the hatred surging in my heart. Emma suddenly said, “Aria, actually, I have something to give you. It’s in my room.” This caught me by surprise. Once in the bedroom, Emma took out a brand new bottle of perfume. She smiled maliciously, leaned close to me, and said in a low voice, “Use it generously. It might cover up your slutty and poor smell.” Oh, so she called me to the room just to say this. Since that’s the case, I couldn’t let her kindness go to waste. I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Emma couldn’t bear this insult. After a moment of shock, she angrily said, “You dare to hit me!” With that, she went crazy, grabbing my hair and banging my head against the wardrobe repeatedly. I didn’t fight back. The commotion was loud. Mrs. Parker and Ryan rushed in, quickly pulling her away. Ryan shielded me and shouted, “Emma Parker, what the fuck is wrong with you!” Mrs. Parker was also furious, “Emma, how could you hit someone!” Emma pointed at the red mark on her face and cried, “Aria hit me first! I was being kind and giving her perfume, thinking that since we’re going to be family, we should get along. But who knew she wouldn’t appreciate it and even mocked the gift for being cheap! Mom, do you think I would slap myself?” “This…” Mrs. Parker looked at me in confusion. I wiped the blood from my forehead and nodded, “That’s right, I hit her first, and I did say the gift was cheap.” Under Emma’s astonished gaze, I raised my face and said solemnly, “It’s not my fault that my parents died. I’m not a harbinger of doom like you say, nor did I ever intend to bring misfortune to your family.” At this point, I became increasingly choked up, “You try to get rid of me with a bottle of perfume and tell me to get lost. Who could bear such humiliation?” I looked at Ryan, tears streaming down my face, “Ryan, I’m not a harbinger of doom. I want to have parents too…” Emma was stunned, hurriedly trying to explain, “She’s lying! I didn’t say she was a harbinger of doom! I didn’t…” “Slap!” This time, it was Ryan who hit her. He hit her hard, causing her to fall to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Emma held her face, looking at Ryan in disbelief, “Brother… you hit me?” “You’d rather believe an outsider than your own sister?!” Ryan looked at her with extreme disgust and said coldly, “That kind of filthy talk does sound like your style.” Emma cried bitterly, feeling wronged. She shouted at Mrs. Parker, “Mom! Tell me who’s right and who’s wrong!” But Mrs. Parker just frowned and said nothing. As Emma cried, her face gradually showed helplessness,anger, and intense hatred.

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Just as the new semester began, my dad donated ten buildings to the school. The principal called me up on stage to honor me. From below, a disdainful voice rang out. “Is that all?” I was immediately annoyed. “If you think you can do better, then go ahead!” He was quite honest and actually went up. Without hesitation, he donated twenty buildings to the school, along with a national-level laboratory. When I entered the school, my dad was so worried about me being taken advantage of that he immediately donated over 20 million dollars, giving the school ten new buildings. To be honest, this was all because of some authors who wrote about roommates as if their brains had been dug out, bullying people at every turn. It scared my dad so much that he was afraid I’d be bullied, insisting that I absolutely couldn’t keep a low profile. So on the first day of school, I stood on the podium while the principal patted my shoulder, praising me and solemnly promising to make the school bigger and stronger. I was very satisfied. Posts about me on the campus network had already topped the hot topics. “About the Billionaire’s Daughter’s Arrival: A Few Things to Know” The comments below were quite eye-catching: “When will the young lady’s new building be ready? I’m wondering where I should tie myself up.” Just as I was basking in everyone’s praise, a very disdainful voice came from below the podium. “Is that all?” “Ten buildings, what’s there to brag about?” It was a male voice, quite cool and pleasant to hear, but the words weren’t so pleasing. I immediately retorted, “If you think you can do better, then go ahead!” He fell silent. I stood on the stage, looking around for a while, but couldn’t find who had spoken. Oh well, there are trolls everywhere. “On behalf of all faculty and students, I thank Miss Zara Blackwood!” The principal smiled kindly, shaking my hand, almost bowing to me. “It’s nothing,” I said calmly. After all, I’ve heard so much praise about this kind of thing since I was little that my ears have grown calluses. Suddenly, the principal’s phone vibrated. He took a look and immediately turned to the audience below: “Who, which one of you is Finn Thorne?” Huh? Before I could react, a guy who was exactly my type strode up with his long legs. His face was cool, his nose high and straight, with a faint scar on the bridge. Handsome, just the type I like! “Oh my, good things really do come in pairs!” The principal grinned from ear to ear, quickly pulling Finn Thorne to stand between me and him. “Just now, Mr. Finn Thorne donated twenty buildings to our university, along with a national-level laboratory!” I was stunned. Finn Thorne turned his head to look at me, smiling mischievously. He slowly uttered three words. “I went ahead.” Me: ??? “Oh my god, young master!” “So handsome, this young master looks much more noble than that Zara Blackwood!” “I’m Finn Thorne’s dog.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re his dog, and I’ll walk you when I go out with Finn Thorne.” This is a campus, not a deserted island! The people below all exploded into chatter. If they were just envious when I donated ten buildings, then Finn Thorne’s actions were a direct slap to my face. I lost. But not completely. As the daughter of a billionaire, with monthly pocket money enough to buy a company, I couldn’t accept someone outdoing me in showing off wealth. I just couldn’t. So I casually said, “This school doesn’t even have a helipad. It’s such a hassle for me to take a car home.” “Oh well, I’ll just build a helipad for the school.” The principal was dumbfounded. The students below were also stunned. I glanced at Finn Thorne with disdain, wanting to see his defeated expression. But there wasn’t any. His handsome face zoomed in front of me, no more than two fists away, and he smiled. “In that case, I’ll donate two helicopters.” My face felt a bit hot. Just as I was about to speak, he suddenly pulled back his face, smiling ambiguously: “Otherwise, it would be so inconvenient for the young lady, wouldn’t it?” “Ahhhh!” “Help, are these two competing?” “Sorry, I think it’s a bit sweet.” Good buddy, you can’t just say that, you know. I’m already engaged to someone else. The crowd below exploded again. The principal pulled out a handkerchief from somewhere, wiping the sweat on his forehead, “Uh, thank you both… for your contributions to our school.” Have I lost? Absolutely not! “Then I…” Just as I was about to speak, the principal suddenly said, “Alright, this commendation ceremony ends here. Dismissed!” After saying that, the principal hurriedly ran off the podium. Leaving me and Finn Thorne on the stage, we glanced at each other, seeing sparks in each other’s eyes. It’s not over yet, I haven’t lost! Back in the dorm, I lay on the bed, unable to calm down for a long time. The campus network had completely exploded. “I’m so jealous!” “I declare, Zara Blackwood is my wife, my only sister!” “What’s so great about Zara Blackwood? I think Finn Thorne is the real deal, always one step ahead of her.” “I guess Zara Blackwood just bought her degree. She looks like one of those uneducated rich girls, not as talented as Finn Thorne.” ??? I immediately went to look in the mirror. Who says I have no talent, who says I bought my degree! I directly opened my phone and posted my GPA and admission letter. “Let me see, who said my degree was bought? (Picture) (Picture)” The comments below stunned everyone. “I knew my wife couldn’t be uneducated!” “Oh my god, is this the daily life of a billionaire’s daughter?” “Manually @Finn Thorne.” I contentedly looked at the comments below, all praising me. Hmm, much better. At this time, a new message suddenly appeared in the comments. I clicked to see, Finn Thorne had posted something. MIT admission letter. I was stunned. Really stunned. Higher GPA than me, and got an MIT admission letter! With such an admission letter, yet he’s studying here, this guy’s got some high ideals. “Alright, I declare Finn Thorne wins this round.” “The young lady lost badly.” “I’m shipping them, how about you guys?” Can’t ship us!! I angrily threw my phone. My roommate saw this and came over: “Zara, are you okay?” “I’m fine,” I replied grumpily. Where the hell did this Finn Thorne come from, always one step ahead of me! I can’t accept this. Thinking about this, I found my old certificates, opened the campus network, and posted again. “Oh. (Picture) (Picture) @Finn Thorne” The pictures showed my race car driver certification and various racing championship trophies and certificates. Sorry, but I’m well-rounded in academics, morality, and physical education. When other girls were still playing with Barbie dolls, I had already started getting into all kinds of racing cars. Can’t help it, I’ve always loved challenges. The comments once again leaned towards me. “Damn, a beautiful race car driver!” “So cool, so cool, sister kill me!” “Where’s the young master? This old servant needs the young master to come out and show off!” I was satisfied. There was no reply from the other side for a long time, he must be scared. As long as he’s scared, that’s fine. Heh, compare with me, I’ll definitely crush you to death. I scrolled through my phone for a long time, but there was still no reply from him. I fell asleep contentedly. In my dream, I had Finn Thorne under my foot, and he was crying and calling me “Queen”. The next day, I was woken up by my roommate. “Zara, quick, look at the campus network!” I opened my sleepy eyes, pulled out my phone from under my pillow, and clicked on the campus network. It exploded again. Finn Thorne had posted a video last night. He was riding a Ducati, speeding like the wind on the track, far outpacing the other racers on the field. At the finish line, he stopped the bike, coolly took off his helmet, revealing his handsome face, holding a golden trophy in his hand. He also thoughtfully attached some pictures. One showed a dense array of trophies and certificates, and another was an international motorcycle rider qualification certificate. I really want to say QAQ, I lost again. Actually, what I wanted to learn most was motorcycles, but my dad thought it was too dangerous and wouldn’t let me learn no matter what, so I had to give up. But he learned it. Not only did he learn it, but he’s also so good at it. And he’s so handsome, I really can’t take it! Looking at the video of him standing next to the fire-red Ducati, I angrily commented. “Hope you get burned!” He immediately replied: “With your cold words, it’s not hot at all.” You’re tough! “I’m dying of sweetness!” “Oh my god, gods, is this the legendary evenly matched love?” Good buddy, you can’t just say that, you know. I’m already engaged to someone else. It exploded again below. The CP fans shouted that they had won the final victory. A certain hot search hung on the campus network for a whole week. “Finn Thorne and Zara Blackwood are engaged, the CP we’ve been shipping all these years has finally come true!” I really want to thank you. Even CP fiction has come out, with a bunch of people urging for updates below. Have I lost like this? No way, I’m not satisfied. I’ve never been treated like this since I was little! He knows more than me, has more certificates than me, has higher education than me. Is there anything I can beat him at? I thought about it, since I can’t win personally, let’s compete in family background! I flipped through my photo album, found a video I took of my family’s estate, and posted it on the campus network. “My home is too big, how can I not get lost? (Video)” Dragon’s Lair Estate, that’s the largest and most luxurious estate in the entire state, priced at $730,000 per square meter, and my family owns over 60,000 square meters. In the front is the estate, in the back is the villa, nestled against mountains and waters, designed by the most famous courtyard designer in the country. To be honest, even the royal palace might not be better than my home. “Holy shit!” “As long as the young lady is happy, this old servant is willing to carry you on my back!” “Take a picture of the entrance, I think it’s quite suitable for me to tie myself up there!” The other side didn’t reply. Good, round four, I won. I put down my phone contentedly, no longer feeling sleepy, so I dragged my roommate to the cafeteria with me. Eating is the most important thing. “Young lady, is that you, young lady!” As soon as we entered the cafeteria, the people around put their food aside and immediately crowded around. “It’s me, I’m your slave, young lady!” Me: “Hello…” “Ahhhh Zara Blackwood, I’m your dog!” Me: ??? “Young lady, keep going, crush that Finn Thorne!” Me: … I just want to eat a quiet meal. After a few minutes, the people surrounding me suddenly ran off, screaming towards the entrance. What’s going on? I turned around, oh, it turns out Finn Thorne had arrived. No wonder, damn it, all the people ran away. The people who were just calling themselves my dogs had now run to Finn Thorne, saying the exact same things. Damn it. I angrily bit into my sweet and sour pork. Suddenly, a shadow fell over my head. I looked up to see Finn Thorne standing in front of me with his tray. The corners of his mouth were smiling: “Let’s eat together.” My face reddened a bit, and I muttered “whatever” before lowering my head to continue eating. It’s my fault for being so weak, and it’s his fault for being exactly my favorite type. It makes me blush just looking at him! Losing was already enough to make me angry, why am I so shy in front of him? This isn’t my style at all, damn it! He suddenly reached out with his fork, spearing a piece of fish fillet and putting it in my bowl. “Eat more, I’m worried you’ll get too thin.” ? Could this be a roundabout way of saying I’m fat? Seeing my unfriendly gaze, Finn Thorne noticed and smiled helplessly: “I didn’t mean anything by it.” I glanced at him and lowered my head to continue eating. I took a bite of the fish fillet. Hmm, it’s really delicious. Since our housekeeper, Aunt Six, went back to her hometown to take care of her children, I haven’t eaten such delicious fish fillet. I didn’t expect the cafeteria to have this. “Which window did you buy it from?” I took another bite, “It’s delicious.” Finn Thorne smiled: “I made it.” Huh??? The fish fillet suddenly became difficult to swallow. Now I don’t know whether to eat it or not, I’m stuck. “Go ahead and eat, there’s more.” Finn Thorne looked at me with a smile, adding another piece to my bowl. Alright, this was his initiative. It’s not like I wanted to eat it! Thinking this way, I ate another piece with a clear conscience. By the time I was full and returned to the dorm, the posts about us on the campus network had become unstoppable. “Wuwuwu, I’m dying of sweetness!! Heart-shaped fish fillet!!” They even posted a picture of him feeding me the fish fillet. The comments below were all blessings. “I’m Finn Thorne’s roommate, this fish fillet wasn’t bought, he made it himself and brought it.” “Damn, Mom, I’ve got the real deal!” “Billionaire’s daughter and the young master from a prestigious family, what a heavenly love!” Love? I was a bit confused. To be honest, we’ve been at odds for so long, I don’t understand how it turned into love. After a while, there was suddenly a post tagging me on the campus network. I clicked to see. Finn Thorne was causing trouble again. This was a video shot by a drone, starting with a huge island, with several yachts docked around, and white doves and seagulls flying over the sea. Looking ahead, what came into view was a group of luxury villas. The overall color was white, with long stairs at least two stories high. The villa looked like the White House, big and vast, truly visually stunning. Luxurious, majestic, and extravagant! Finally, he posted a picture showing the ownership of this villa, with the name of the villa written on it. Platinum Manor. One of the top-rated luxury wine estates both domestically and internationally, and also a private residence. The swimming pool is even bigger than the parking lot. At this moment, I admit, I was envious. It’s something I can’t compare to. “Holy sh*t…” “This can’t just be described as rich anymore, can I, a poor student, even look at this?” “I’m in the same dorm as Finn Thorne, if I kill him, can I get a guaranteed spot for a master’s degree?” “You can also get a pair of silver handcuffs for life, with free room and board starting now.” My confidence suffered an unprecedented blow. It turns out, this guy is really rich, even richer than my family. When I was little and saw this villa, I mentioned once that I really liked it. I was mercilessly rejected by my dad because it simply couldn’t be bought. Now the market value, I checked, is about 13 billion dollars. Why can he buy it! Suddenly, I realized a blind spot. He… should be single, right? I really want to give myself a thumbs up for my cleverness! He’s so awesome, he must not have a partner, right? But I do! Sorry, but I’ve been betrothed since birth. Although I’m not very fond of this arranged marriage thing and have completely ignored it, I can also have it when necessary. So I quickly video called my mom. My mom was surprised when she heard I wanted my fiancé’s WeChat: “Didn’t you always resist this?” “Oh, different situations call for different approaches. Quick, give it to me!” I urged, and my mom didn’t say anything, just directly gave me the WeChat contact card. The other person’s avatar was a grass-woven ring on their pinky finger, giving off a unique sense of elegance. The name was “Scar”. Quite non-mainstream. After I added him, the WeChat request was approved almost instantly. The other side sent a question mark. I quickly typed: [Hello, fiancé!] Then I took a screenshot and asked, [My name is Zara Blackwood, what’s your name?] The other side didn’t reply, so I simply posted the screenshot directly on the campus network, with the caption: “After all, I’m not single.” Finn Thorne hadn’t replied yet, but the comments below exploded first. “Ahhhh, my CP just started and it’s already over???” “Who is this fiancé, find him, I’ll beat him up right now, he must give up!” “Wuwu, don’t end my rich family drama!” Little ones. I gleefully scrolled through the comments. Haha, I don’t believe you can outdo me this time! I have a partner and you don’t, this is the reason for being willful! After a while, Finn Thorne finally posted. Before I clicked in, I was still full of confidence. After I clicked in, I was stunned. Because what he posted was a screenshot of my conversation with my arranged marriage partner, different from mine in that it also included my self-introduction below, and it was from the perspective of the arranged marriage guy himself. My hand trembled. It’s not possible… is it? The comment section was also a bit stunned. At the same time, my phone suddenly vibrated. I clicked into WeChat and looked. [Hello, fiancée. My name is Finn Thorne.]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294849”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School #重生Reborn