The company was hosting its Christmas party when my wife, Ivy Clarke, announced in front of everyone that she was gifting her assistant, Zachary Locke, a private jet worth twenty million dollars.
Zachary smugly wrapped his arm around her waist and said, “Thank you, Ms. Clarke, for valuing me so highly. I’ll definitely find ways to repay your generosity.”
I didn’t make a scene. I simply turned and walked away.
Ivy chased after me, berating me: “What are you jealous about? What’s wrong with me giving a jet to my top assistant? You can’t do anything right, and you have the nerve to be upset with me?”
I smiled bitterly, not bothering to explain. I did all the work, nevertheless Zachary got all the credit, and she acted completely blind to it. It was time to end this utterly miserable relationship.
As soon as I left, I heard Zachary’s grating voice behind me.
“Ms. Clarke, perhaps I should return the gift. Your husband seems upset by how much you value me.”
Ivy dismissed his concern: “Ignore him! I have nothing but contempt for such a narrow-minded, incompetent man!”
She was still the same, always trampling me underfoot. My heart had grown numb; I no longer felt sadness or anger. After leaving the office, I returned to my place and ordered takeout, chewing flavorless stir-fried rice noodles while the company group chat livestreamed the festivities—a lavish dinner and spectacular performances.
The irony struck me. I had founded this company with my own hands, however now it belonged to Ivy. All because she once claimed she “lacked security,” I transferred the company to her. Just three Christmases later, she had completely forgotten. Fine. Someone this ungrateful deserved to be put back in her place!
After finishing my meal, I prepared for bed. I habitually checked my phone and came across Zachary’s Facebook post: “Ms. Clarke looks so adorable when drunk.” Below was a photo of Zachary carrying Ivy in his arms, walking into a hotel room. Ivy had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, her gaze seductive.
I felt nothing—I’d expected this all along. As my finger quickly scrolled past the photo, I accidentally liked it. I didn’t bother to unlike it and simply turned off my screen before going to sleep. As expected, Ivy didn’t come home that night.
Early the next morning, as soon as I walked into the office, Ivy launched into a tirade.
“Marcus Shaw, what are you jealous about? I was just drunk last night. What’s with that passive-aggressive like with all that masculine/feminine energy talk? What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shook my head wearily, my tone flat: “It meant nothing. My finger slipped.”
Seeing my calm demeanor, Ivy paused momentarily before resuming her accusations about my pettiness. Zachary stood nearby, offering insincere explanations: “Assistant Shaw, please don’t misunderstand. I was merely taking care of Ms. Clarke when she was intoxicated. Nothing else happened.”
I ignored him and printed out divorce papers, tossing them to Ivy with a reminder: “Just sign these. We’re getting divorced anyway, so I really don’t care what you two do.”
Ivy glanced at the papers before throwing them in the trash with a scoff: “You claim you’re not jealous, still you’re pushing for divorce! You’re the same spineless self as always!”
I looked at her coldly, my expression serious: “I’m not being dramatic. If you don’t agree to the divorce, I’ll file a lawsuit.”
Ivy’s face darkened immediately. After studying me carefully and realizing I wasn’t joking, her tone grew even more hostile: “Fine, we can divorce, but you won’t get a penny!”
I shook my head. How could that be possible? She was the one who cheated, and she expected me to walk away with nothing? She was dreaming! I stated my demands directly—I wanted half of our assets. The company was originally mine, so taking half the shares was perfectly reasonable.
Ivy hurled her folder at my head, her attitude utterly arrogant: “Bottom line, you just want money! I won’t let you get away with this. The company is in my name—you can’t take it!”
I touched my bleeding forehead, my resolve unwavering: “Then we’ll go to court!”
Ivy laughed coldly, her words dripping with sarcasm: “Go ahead! The company has an entire legal team on my side. What do you have?”
I smiled mockingly. She’d apparently forgotten that everyone in the company was loyal to me. Even that so-called legal team had been hired with my money.
“What are you smiling at?” Ivy asked with contempt.
I reminded her, “Don’t forget, the company was originally mine. You’re just managing it for me.”
Ivy was furious, clenching her fists!
“Marcus, have you no shame? For three years, I’ve worked tirelessly to build this company!”
“If you were managing the company, it would have gone bankrupt long ago!”
I couldn’t be bothered arguing with her and simply said, “See you in court!”
Then I started packing up the things on my desk.
Just then, the office phone rang.
Zachary rushed to answer it.
After a brief exchange, his brow furrowed.
He looked at me angrily and said, “Mr. Hayes is asking for you!”
Mr. Hayes was the company’s biggest client and also my junior from school. Half of the company’s orders came from his company, mainly out of respect for me.
I picked up the phone and told Mr. Hayes:
“I won’t be handling this company’s affairs anymore. I’m planning to resign.”
Mr. Hayes paused for a moment, then understood my meaning.
“I see. My cooperation with your company should end as well.”
The phone was on speaker, and Ivy heard everything clearly.
She quickly grabbed the phone and explained to the client:
“Mr. Hayes, please don’t do this! Assistant Shaw is being difficult and unprofessional. I’ll fire him!”
The client became angry upon hearing this: “What? You want to fire Mr. Shaw?”
Ivy was completely confused.
“What do you mean, Mr. Shaw? Marcus may be my husband, but he’s just a minor assistant.”
“There’s no need to show such respect to this useless person!”
The client laughed in anger, no longer willing to be polite, and snapped:
“Ivy, who do you think you are? Without Mr. Shaw, do you think I would work with you?”
Ivy’s face turned red with anger, but she didn’t dare offend this major client. She could only apologize repeatedly, pleading with him not to terminate their business relationship.
Mr. Hayes hung up without showing her any respect.
Ivy panicked and kept calling him back.
But he had already blocked her.
She glared at me with a dark expression.
“You useless thing! You’ve offended our biggest client!”
“If you don’t get Mr. Hayes’s business back, I’ll fire you!”
I had watched and endured her bossy attitude for three years.
All because I owed her.
Before our marriage, my mother fell seriously ill.
She took meticulous care of my mother for a period of time.
When my mother was near the end, she agreed to marry me, allowing my mother to die in peace, fulfilling her greatest wish.
Because of this debt of gratitude, I transferred the company to her name.
I even tolerated her bad temper and all her affairs.
But my indulgence made her completely forget who she was.
Now, it was time to get life back on track.
Holding my packed belongings, I smiled at her sarcastically.
“I’ve wanted to quit for a long time. Fire me if you want!”
“Even if you don’t fire me, I’m resigning anyway.”
With that, I walked out carrying the box.
Behind me, Ivy’s shouts echoed.
“Marcus, you’ve got some nerve! Walking out just like that?”
“This is abandonment of duty! I can withhold all your wages!”
I ignored her and quickly left. If I didn’t even want the company anymore, why would I care about those wages?
Back at our marital home, I started packing my things.
Before our wedding, I had already bought several villas that Ivy knew nothing about.
I had planned to surprise her with them after she had our child.
But for three years, she always said she was too busy with work and refused to have children.
Now, I would be keeping this valuable gift to myself.
Just as I finished packing, Ivy returned.
Her arrogance from earlier had vanished as she tossed me a prenatal checkup report.
“I’m pregnant. What do you think we should do?”
I held the medical report, my face filled with surprise.
It bore the official seal of the City Hospital, and the signing doctor was a junior colleague from my medical school.
I knew her character well—she wouldn’t falsify examination results.
Looking at Ivy’s stomach again, though not very obvious, it was already slightly swollen.
Ivy had indeed gained some weight recently.
She usually cared so much about her figure; if not for pregnancy, she definitely wouldn’t have allowed herself to gain weight.
My mind was full of questions, but I still couldn’t help reaching out to touch her belly.
“When did this happen?”
Before my mother passed away, she had hoped that Ivy and I would have children soon.
I had promised her that we would have our own child as soon as possible.
My father died in an accident when I was just a few years old.
My mother raised me alone, overworking herself until she passed away before she could enjoy the fruits of her labor.
Precisely because both my parents were gone, I especially wanted to have a child soon.
Ivy had agreed readily when we got married, but after the wedding, she became a workaholic.
Once, she accidentally got pregnant but secretly had an abortion.
When I found out, I asked her why she did it without discussing it with me.
She said she was still too young, not wanting to be tied down by children so early.
She pleaded with me to wait three years, promising she would definitely give me a child then.
Since then, I stopped pressuring her about having children.
Now, exactly three years later, she had fulfilled her promise.
I had planned to tell her about a villa I bought before our marriage, as a gift for her pregnancy.
After she gave birth, I would give her two more properties—one for her parents and one for her and the child.
As for her affair, for the sake of our child, I could forgive her.
But Ivy’s attitude toward the baby was very strange, and her behavior toward me was even more peculiar.
She dodged my hand, tightly protecting her stomach.
“The baby is already three months along. I’ve been careless and didn’t notice until now.”
“Three months?” My voice changed instantly.
The idea of giving her the villa vanished from my mind.
Three months ago was exactly when Zachary had just joined the company.
They had been very close back then, often traveling together for business.
She rarely came home and always made excuses to avoid intimacy.
At first, I thought she was just too tired. I felt sorry for her and would take cold showers when I couldn’t bear it anymore.
Later, I realized she had changed her heart.
Her thoughts were all on her new love—how could she still care about her old one?
So I endured for three months, hoping to see if things would change, waiting for her to come to her senses.
I reminded her repeatedly to turn back before it was too late.
But not only did she not listen, she grew to despise me even more.
She often belittled me to please Zachary.
Three years of marriage couldn’t compete with an assistant who had only been employed for three months.
This relationship was far too fragile!
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to acknowledge this child?”
“Besides you, I haven’t been with any other man!”
Ivy looked flustered, desperately trying to prove the child was mine.
Her reaction only confirmed my suspicions!
We were husband and wife; her carrying my child should have been the most natural thing.
Yet she asked such a question.
No wonder she was nervous.
During these three months, she had barely spent any nights at home.
She was either on business trips or sleeping at the company.
I recalled that the only time we were intimate was over two months ago, on the anniversary of my mother’s death, when I got drunk.
She rarely came home, but that night she had stayed with me.
When I woke up in the morning, we were lying in the same bed with our clothes somewhat disheveled.
She complained that I had been too rough the night before and hurt her.
But I had no memory of what happened, so I could only let her complain.
In the end, I gave her a luxury watch as compensation.
Thinking of this, I quickly said:
“Of course I believe the child is mine. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you and the baby.”
After saying this, I coaxed Ivy into the bedroom to rest.
Then I went into the bathroom, closed the door, and called my junior colleague.
“Could you help me with something? I need to check if there’s any issue with the baby in Ivy’s womb.”
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My wife was in a car accident, and as a doctor, I examined her and discovered she had a malignant brain tumor.
Worried about upsetting her, I planned to tell her later and hid the test results in my bag.
Unexpectedly, she stumbled upon the report but mistakenly thought I was the one with the brain tumor.
One day, I went to her office and overheard her telling her friends, “My husband, who has neither talent nor looks, just money, has a brain tumor…”
“If Sebastian Scott hadn’t gone abroad back then, I would never have settled for him… I’m just so unlucky!”
“At least I never agreed to have children with him. Once he dies, all his money will be mine.”
Later, she claimed to have amnesia from the car accident, pretending not to remember who I was. She even moved her male secretary Sebastian into our home, treating him as her husband.
I smiled at her and said, “Evelyn Yves, let’s get divorced.”
…
Standing outside Evelyn’s office door, listening to her conversation with her friends, I could barely breathe, my entire body trembling uncontrollably.
Not only was she convinced I had a brain tumor, but she was also full of contempt and disgust toward me.
I almost pushed the door open to burst in and demand why she would treat me this way.
But just then, she called her first love Sebastian, and her tender voice instantly froze me in place. She said, “Sebastian, have you left yet? I’ll pick you up later, and we’ll go to our favorite restaurant.”
“Don’t worry, I’m feeling much better now. You’re so thoughtful, knowing I was in a car accident. Unlike him, who doesn’t care about me at all. I really regret it.”
I looked down at the chicken soup I had spent hours making, and a chill ran through me.
Yes, I regretted it too.
Seeing she had ended the call, I quickly left. Passing the trash can downstairs, I threw the chicken soup away.
Before I’d gone far, I received a message from Evelyn: [In a meeting, will be home late.]
I turned off my phone screen, feeling like a complete joke.
It had been pouring rain on my way there, and in my rush to bring Evelyn the soup, I’d gotten soaked without realizing it. As soon as I got home, I developed a high fever.
After taking medicine, I passed out on the couch, only to be awakened by Evelyn’s irritated voice. She demanded, “Harrison Fairchild, why didn’t you answer any of my calls?!”
“Is your phone just for show? Why do you always do this?”
I opened my eyes weakly, noticing the missed calls flashing on my phone, and said faintly, “My head hurts. I wanted to sleep for a while.”
“Headaches are normal,” she blurted out without thinking, then, as if realizing something, quickly explained, “That’s what happens when you overthink everything until your brain is fried!”
I knew she probably thought it was a symptom of my supposed brain cancer.
Seeing I didn’t respond, she pushed me further into the couch and pretended to casually adjust her collar, saying, “I had dinner with a client tonight and heard something that made sense to me.”
“This client has a friend whose husband got cancer, and he eventually refused treatment. He said it was to reduce the burden on his wife’s family afterward, since cancer is incurable anyway.”
I was stunned. I had thought her words on the phone with her friends were just jokes, but she was serious.
Between the lines, she clearly didn’t want me to survive.
I forced a bitter smile and said, “That’s exactly how I feel. When one person gets cancer, the whole family suffers.”
Her eyes flashed with excitement as she asked, “Really? You think so too?”
I nodded, thinking to myself, yes, if you gave up treatment, I could save a fortune too.
Early the next morning, I called the hospital and calmly requested an extended leave, saying, “I have some family matters to deal with recently.”
On the other end, my colleague Dr. Silas hesitated before carefully asking, “Harrison, do you know about your wife’s test results from our hospital?”
“You’re a doctor too. Please convince your wife to return to the hospital for active treatment.”
I pulled at the corner of my mouth in a half-smile and said, “I tried, but she says cancer is incurable and doesn’t want treatment.”
Dr. Silas was silent for a long while before finally sighing, “I… called her, asking her to come to the hospital, and she… she got very angry, saying no one in your family has cancer…”
“She also… asked me not to tell you, saying you should just rest at home. I… I don’t understand what this means…”
As I listened, a wave of desolation washed over me. I understood—Evelyn simply didn’t want me, whom she believed had cancer, to seek treatment.
I almost laughed out loud, but the laugh caught in my throat and turned bitter. “If the hospital can’t convince her, what can I do?”
After hanging up, I began packing my things. This place where I had spent eight Christmases now seemed so foreign to me.
This home, and Evelyn—I wanted neither of them anymore.
Halfway through packing, my gaze fell on the dark green box in the cabinet—the one Evelyn had always forbidden me to touch.
But now, what did I have left to care about?
I opened the box and, as expected, a wave of excruciating pain washed over me, nearly drowning me.
Inside were 99 things Evelyn planned to do with Sebastian.
On the top card, a sentence was clearly written: [I want to have a beautiful baby with Sebastian in this lifetime.]
On the back of the card was her “guilt” toward Sebastian: [Last time I accidentally got pregnant, it was all my fault. In this life, I’ll only have children with Sebastian! Thankfully, I miscarried in the end.]
That was the baby I had longed for so desperately… I never imagined Evelyn hated the idea of its arrival so much.
So she had never forgotten her first love. Not only had she boldly hired Sebastian as her personal secretary, but she had also made him so many promises behind my back.
Looking at it this way, she probably only stayed with me for the money.
I wiped away my tears, took a few photos, and put the box back in its place.
Suddenly, I heard the electronic lock at the front door. Peering through the crack, I saw Evelyn returning with Sebastian.
Evelyn’s face was lit with excitement as she grabbed Sebastian’s hand. “Sebastian, I might have post-accident syndrome. My head is buzzing. I’m so glad you’re willing to take care of me.”
I pushed the door open with a grim expression, just in time to witness Sebastian responding with tender affection: “I’m your secretary, aren’t I? Taking care of you is my duty.”
As he spoke, his arm deliberately brushed against Evelyn’s body.
Upon seeing me, Sebastian was the first to react. Feigning surprise, he said, “Oh… Harrison is home…”
He jumped away from Evelyn in pretend panic, avoiding my gaze.
Evelyn, however, pulled him back and shielded him behind her. Looking at me, her voice filled with reproach: “Were you eavesdropping on my calls with Sebastian again last night?”
“What are you trying to do? Sebastian came specially to take care of me, and you’re being so paranoid and unreasonable!”
I frowned. The pain in my heart was far more agonizing than the suffering from my high fever.
Fighting back nausea, the rage inside me threatened to consume me. “Evelyn, I’m not dead yet, and you’re already bringing him to ‘take care’ of you, is that it?”
Sebastian’s face twisted into a sneer as he moved closer to Evelyn. “Harrison, you’re misunderstanding us… Evelyn and I…”
Before he could finish, Evelyn suddenly clutched her head, acting as if she was in unbearable pain.
Sebastian embraced her in panic. “Evelyn, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me!”
Evelyn struggled for a few moments, then looked at Sebastian with confused eyes. Suddenly, she hugged him tightly and called out tenderly: “Husband…”
Then, she turned to me with fury. “Who are you? Why are you in my house? Get out!”
…
At this stage of her brain cancer, memory loss wasn’t even a symptom. She was putting on an act in front of me.
I leaned against the doorframe and asked, “Have you looked at our wedding photo on the wall? And you’re asking who I am?”
Evelyn clung to Sebastian and shouted at me, “How would I know when you hung that up? I only love my husband Sebastian!”
She continued her performance, acting as if she was in such agony that she might as well roll on the floor.
Seeing this, Sebastian looked at me and said, “I think Evelyn has temporary amnesia from the accident. Please, Harrison, don’t upset her further.”
“Since she only remembers me now, let me stay and take care of her. You should move out for a while.”
I turned back to the bedroom and said, “No need to beg. I was planning to move out anyway.”
Then I emerged with a small box of belongings and placed the divorce papers I’d prepared that morning on the table. Coldly, I said, “Evelyn, let’s get divorced.”
When I mentioned divorce, Evelyn’s face changed instantly. She grabbed the divorce agreement from the table and tore it to shreds. “Divorce? Do you think I’m stupid? You’re not even my husband, why would I sign anything?”
She gritted her teeth, each word forced through clenched jaws. “You’re just trying to scam me out of money! I’m telling you, it’s not happening!”
I had anticipated this reaction and no longer felt the need to be courteous. “You refuse to divorce me because you’re waiting for me to die so you can seize all my assets, isn’t that right?”
Evelyn’s eyes darted away nervously. She glared at me viciously, grabbed my luggage and hurled it outside the door, shouting, “What nonsense are you talking about? Get out! Now!”
Sebastian, pretending to be concerned, took my hand and urged, “Harrison, you should leave. Don’t upset Evelyn anymore—she’s already suffering enough!”
I let out a cold laugh. Suffering?
Once she’s without me, then she’ll truly know what suffering means.
After leaving home, I thought long and hard before deciding to resign from the hospital.
I wasn’t running away. I had finally made up my mind to accept my mentor’s invitation to participate in an important medical research project abroad, with plans to bring the results back to our country later.
Before, I always felt I couldn’t leave Evelyn and remained indecisive, but now I realized how meaningful this research was—something I had always cared deeply about.
That afternoon, I changed into casual clothes and returned to the hospital. Dr. Silas approached me with concern written all over his face. “Dr. Fairchild, are you really sure about this? Losing talent like you is such a shame…”
Dr. Silas and I had become doctors around the same time, and we’d always maintained a good relationship.
I told him about Evelyn. After hearing the whole story, he was so shocked he couldn’t speak for a while. Finally, he managed to say, “That’s… that’s absolutely despicable!”
Suddenly, his expression tightened as he gestured behind me.
I turned around to see Evelyn and Sebastian walking toward us.
Evelyn smirked and deliberately raised her voice, “I’ve already told you I don’t know you. How long are you going to pretend to be my husband?!”
“I kicked you out this morning, and now you’re stalking me at the hospital? Don’t you ever quit?!”
The patients around us turned to look, whispering among themselves: “Isn’t that Dr. Fairchild? So he’s a homewrecker!”
“He looks so proper, I never would have guessed he’d interfere in someone else’s marriage!”
Though these comments seemed directed at me, Sebastian kept his head down, not daring to make a sound. He gripped Evelyn’s arm tightly and said, “Evelyn, didn’t you say your headache was getting worse? Let’s go see a doctor quickly.”
I stepped in front of them, blocking their path, and said coldly, “Evelyn, you should take a good look at the name on that brain cancer report.”
Evelyn jerked her head up, her eyes reddening. “Harrison! What does your cancer have to do with me?!”
Dr. Silas, furious, pointed at Evelyn and demanded, “Weren’t you supposed to have amnesia?! How do you remember Dr. Fairchild’s name?! Stop pretending!”
Evelyn stammered, still stubbornly defending herself: “I have intermittent amnesia!”
I smiled slightly, opened the report, and pointed at the name, pronouncing each word distinctly: “Then surely you haven’t forgotten your own name?! Evelyn Yves!”
She snatched the report from me, her eyes fixed on the name. Her face instantly turned ashen, her pupils constricting as her body swayed. “No… impossible! This… this must be fake! You forged it! You photoshopped it to scare me! You’re the one with cancer!”
I crossed my arms over my chest, my gaze piercing, my tone laced with mockery: “The one with cancer has always been you, Evelyn.”
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My CEO wife insisted on keeping the fresh-out-of-college wolf cub intern by her side, personally mentoring him.
She told me: “Don’t get the wrong idea. I just see potential in him.”
Yet this typically meticulous and mature woman suddenly started wearing pink dresses and tying her hair in high ponytails.
She even went completely off the grid for 48 hours with that intern on our third wedding anniversary.
While everyone was frantically searching for her, she posted photos on Facebook of herself riding a carousel with cotton candy in hand.
The caption read: [Found the purest joy in this place of happiness, because of you!]
The company lost a major project because of this, and I lost my wife.
I slipped the divorce papers inside the intern’s promotion report and placed them before her.
She signed without even looking and immediately said: “With Ryan Garrison’s abilities, he’s more than qualified to be Vice President.”
I calmly handed her my resignation letter and replied: “You’re right, so I’m stepping aside.”
…
Claire Laurent and I were financially independent.
In the divorce agreement, I only mentioned our marital home. I had planned to discuss the rest when I got home.
Ryan chose that inopportune moment to walk in.
“Mr. Kingsley, HR sent me to discuss my promotion with you.”
HR directed him to me because they couldn’t decide between Claire, the CEO, and me, the Vice President.
I didn’t give him the cold shoulder as I usually did when he suspiciously clung to Claire.
Instead, I simply took his promotion report and said flatly: “You can go now.”
But Ryan plopped himself down on my office sofa, refusing to leave.
“This office is really spacious, isn’t it?”
“Mr. Kingsley, don’t you think I’ll be working in here before long?”
As he spoke, he lightly tapped the back of the sofa with his fingers, as if certain he would become this office’s new occupant.
I ignored him and called security directly: “Send two people to my office. Someone refuses to leave.”
When Ryan realized I wouldn’t personally throw him out—giving him no opportunity to play his fake innocent act—his expression briefly faltered. But he quickly regained his composure and started taunting me:
“Really, Mr. Kingsley? That thin-skinned?”
“I’m just sitting here, and you’re calling security to throw me out? If Ms. Laurent hears about this, she won’t be pleased!”
I didn’t respond.
Since joining the company, Ryan had done nothing but fawn over Claire and wander around aimlessly, showing no signs of doing any actual work.
He played the two-faced manipulator in front of others, yet always seemed eager to provoke me.
Though Claire and I kept our marriage private, the inevitable subtle intimacies and interactions between real spouses could easily lead to speculation.
This understated connection had persisted for eight years, yet it couldn’t withstand Claire’s blatant favoritism toward Ryan over the past six months.
Our colleagues had already shifted to shipping them together.
Fortunately, I no longer cared.
Security arrived looking intimidating, but deflated immediately upon seeing Ryan was the one refusing to leave.
It spoke volumes about Claire’s influence that a mediocre intern could intimidate the entire company.
“Mr. Kingsley, is there… some misunderstanding here?”
Looking at the timid security guards, I coldly asked: “Does Security no longer understand its own responsibilities? Are you treating company policies as if they don’t exist?”
Meanwhile, Ryan maintained his smug demeanor.
“We all know Mr. Kingsley loves throwing his weight around. This isn’t news.”
“Ms. Laurent said once I take over, the company culture will change.”
“Everyone just needs to hang in there a little longer.”
This blatant provocation caused both security guards to lower their heads, looking pathetically spineless, clearly wanting no part in our conflict.
They were mistaken. Even if I had “fallen from grace,” I remained the company’s second-in-command.
I removed my glasses and said calmly: “I see. Tomorrow I’ll have HR reassess the value of maintaining a Security department.”
Hearing this, the guards immediately broke into a sweat. Ryan’s smile froze slightly.
He hadn’t expected me to be so firm, and could only save face by pretending to be concerned for the guards as he slunk out of my office.
After composing myself, I went to Claire’s office.
Claire barely looked up and asked: “Something you need?”
Seeing her cold, irritated expression felt like a knife twisting in my heart. Still, I maintained my composure and asked:
“Are you just going to let Ryan run wild in the company?”
Claire’s voice was filled with displeasure: “Could you stop being so harsh? Ryan’s just starting his career—what ulterior motives could he possibly have?”
“It’s you who needs to stop bullying him and targeting him at every turn.”
I laughed bitterly: “Which part of his behavior seems innocent to you?”
His act of being a pushover only fooled Claire, who mistook it for genuine affection.
Claire’s expression visibly darkened: “You have no right to manage my people. If there’s nothing else, please leave.”
I stared at her, searching for any trace of affection in her eyes, but found only coldness.
Sighing in resignation, I approached her desk and placed several documents on it, like a routine task.
“This is Ryan’s promotion application. HR couldn’t decide, so you should sign it.”
In our husband-and-wife company, either of our signatures would normally suffice. But today, I deliberately didn’t make the decision myself.
Claire paused, looked up at me, and asked: “Why can’t you sign it?”
I offered a reasonable excuse: “You know Ryan’s performance under me doesn’t meet the standards. This should be your decision.”
This was both truth and a test.
I pretended to be indifferent while watching Claire, harboring an unrealistic hope.
If only you wouldn’t sign…
Claire was about to review some documents when her phone screen lit up. Seeing the caller ID, she quickly answered.
“Yes, yes, it’s fine, I’m not upset. Wait for me in the car.”
After hanging up, she glared at me, her tone impatient:
“You call security to remove Ryan, then tell me his promotion is my decision?”
“I—”
Slap!
She struck me across the face, leaving my cheek burning.
“Are you really that threatened by an intern? Or are you afraid he’ll steal your pathetic spotlight?”
I laughed with bitter irony. Whenever Ryan complained, she never considered whether I was following protocol—she always took his side.
I’d been battling in the corporate world for years; dealing with a young man like him would be simple. But the more I tried to discipline him, the more she resented me. As if the more vulnerable Ryan appeared, the more justified he became.
With a heart full of bitterness and nowhere to vent, I chose silence.
Her chest heaved with anger as she grabbed her handbag, ready to leave.
I called out softly: “Please sign this first, so HR can process the promotion.”
Claire frowned, visibly irritated.
She snatched the pen, signed quickly, and hurried out.
I smiled ruefully at myself. If she’d taken even a glance, she would have noticed the divorce papers tucked between the promotion documents. But whenever Ryan was involved, she transformed into someone else, completely devoid of reason.
Claire and I married under pressure from both our parents. From the beginning, our marriage lacked a foundation of love.
I’d pursued her since university but never received any response. Later, because our professional backgrounds aligned, I was fortunate enough to become her business partner.
Three years after founding our company, she mentioned her parents’ persistent pressure to marry and asked if I’d consider a whirlwind marriage to silence the critics. So we skipped the dating phase and walked straight into matrimony.
I always thought career-driven women like her were naturally cold, loving their work above all else. Until I accidentally came across her diary and discovered she still harbored feelings for someone from her past—her deceased first love, Xander Hayes.
The man was already gone; I wouldn’t compete with a ghost. If anything, it made me feel more sympathy for her.
Then Ryan arrived. His features resembled Xander’s with striking similarity, throwing our normally composed female CEO into complete disarray. Her once decisive leadership faltered whenever Ryan was involved.
She even tearfully lamented while drunk in front of me:
“Born too late to meet you… cursed by time’s cruelty… Tell me, why was I so impulsive to get married?”
Watching her with bleary eyes and tear-stained face, I felt as though a knife was repeatedly stabbing my heart.
I once believed that while our marriage lacked passionate romance, it could still exemplify a “marry first, love later” success story. But with Ryan’s appearance, our five years of marriage instantly became nothing more than an impulsive mistake.
I smiled bitterly, wanting to object but feeling something lodged in my throat.
“Do you regret being with me that much? What have these five years meant to you?”
That time, I finally confronted her.
She just smiled dreamily, her gaze distant, as if seeing something she yearned for in that emptiness.
“I feel so old now. Standing next to him, it’s like we’re from different worlds. How could I ever be worthy of him…”
She didn’t realize those words extinguished the last flicker of hope in my heart. I finally understood that I had become her discarded past, not even worth the breath it would take to acknowledge our five years together.
I never mentioned those drunken confessions to her. Given her alcohol tolerance, drinking until blackout was clearly intentional. I couldn’t imagine the depth of her inner turmoil.
Initially, I pathetically told myself to ignore it. As long as she remained by my side and the company functioned normally, I could numb myself with work—pretend not to see their ambiguous interactions, ignore colleagues’ whispers.
But they grew increasingly brazen, exchanging glances across company events and openly attending important business functions together, leaving less and less space for me, her husband.
Even last Monday, on our fifth wedding anniversary, she failed to show up. She had promised to meet me but disappeared for 48 hours—no calls, no messages. I was frantic, searching everywhere, fearing something terrible had happened.
To make matters worse, that day a major potential client requested to meet our company’s leadership. I was both furious and worried. I’d researched this client’s corporate culture and business style; reaching the stage of meeting the principals meant we were close to securing the contract. This deal was crucial for the company, potentially offsetting losses from her previous poor decisions.
Yet Claire, typically so reliable, was completely unreachable. The client felt disrespected and immediately partnered with our competitor instead.
Of course, compared to her safety, none of that mattered. While I was searching for her and preparing to file a missing person report, I stumbled upon her Facebook update.
A jarring photo. A heartbreaking caption.
In the picture, she wore a pink mini-dress unsuitable for her age, sitting on a carousel she’d previously called childish, holding cotton candy she never liked.
The caption read: [Found the purest joy in this place of happiness, because of you!]
When she returned, I’d been awake for nearly 48 hours. Exhausted, I simply asked:
“Where were you? Who were you with?”
She turned it around on me: “I was just meeting a friend. Why did you call so many times? Like you were hounding me!”
Meeting a friend?
She disappeared with an intern—who else could she have been meeting?
In that moment, something inside me collapsed. All my expectations, affection, and love for her extinguished like a candle in a gale, leaving nothing but cold ashes.
I didn’t say another word. Holding the divorce papers with her signature, I felt a liberating relief.
I took out my phone and called a CEO who had previously tried to recruit me with a generous offer:
“Mr.Chamberlain, you mentioned earlier that your overseas branch needed someone in charge. Is that position still available?”
When he heard me bring up the matter, his voice changed with excitement.
“You’re willing to join us?”
“That’s fantastic! Ian Kingsley, you’re truly an exceptional talent in business development and management. As long as you’re interested, I’ll arrange everything immediately.”
“Regarding compensation, it will definitely be better than what you’re getting now.”
“If Ms. Laurent is reluctant to let you go, I’ll personally speak with her. How does that sound?”
Conrad Chamberlain was a well-known business tycoon in the city, and his wife had been my professor in college.
Although Laurent Technology Group was developing well, it still lacked sufficient capital flow and high-level talent reserves, which limited its growth.
That’s why Conrad had been trying to recruit me to help him expand his market.
I had refused before, of course. After all, Laurent Technology Group was founded by my wife and me, like our child.
Looking back now, I was too stubborn, missing out on such a great opportunity.
“Thank you, Mr. Chamberlain. I’ll work hard.”
…
When Claire returned, I was writing my resignation letter.
She didn’t look at me, just walked in and busied herself with her phone.
After showering, she sat at the dressing table, drying her wet hair.
“Ian, I need to fly to Derbyshire for a conference in a few days. Please keep an eye on things at the company.”
She was always like this. One moment she’d slap me across the face, and the next she’d act as if nothing happened, discussing work with me as though our conflict never occurred.
Perhaps this had something to do with my repeated compromises. Our relationship was too fragile—so fragile that each time I feared the slightest misstep would shatter it completely, so I kept pretending not to care and accommodating her.
Now it’s clear that forcibly covering up our conflicts never works.
…
After blow-drying her hair, Claire walked to the bed and leaned down to kiss me.
I instinctively turned my head, and her kiss landed on my chin instead.
We were both surprised by our actions. Usually, I was the one seeking intimacy, but tonight when she finally initiated, I avoided her.
I closed my laptop and said softly, “Let’s sleep, it’s getting late.”
Claire frowned slightly and asked, “What’s wrong?”
I coughed casually and made an excuse: “I’m coming down with a cold. Don’t want to infect you.”
Claire didn’t question it and continued, “Mr. Hayes from Golden Age Group invited me to dinner this Friday. I want you to come with me.”
Without looking at her, I replied, “Alright.”
As a married couple in business, we rarely attended the same functions together. Partly to avoid suspicion, and partly because we each had different social styles and approaches, working separately often allowed us to leverage our respective strengths better for the company’s benefit.
For these dinners, she typically only brought her secretary. But her former secretary, who had worked well with her, was fired for offending Ryan.
Ryan was all style and no substance—lacking emotional intelligence, competence, and even the ability to hold his liquor. No wonder Claire needed me now.
After turning off the lights, we each lay down to sleep.
The next day, I met a few close friends for drinks as a farewell, though I didn’t explain clearly. They could only guess, assuming I was having relationship problems.
While we were enjoying our drinks, we spotted Claire and Ryan finishing their spaghetti, about to leave.
My friends all knew we were married. Claire’s expression immediately turned awkward. Clearly, she didn’t want Ryan to know she was married, much less that I was her husband.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, pretending to be casual.
“As you can see, just hanging out with some friends,” I replied calmly.
My buddies, feeling I was being treated unfairly, made some sarcastic remarks:
“Well, if it isn’t Ms. Laurent’s little shadow. Do you need to stand that close?”
“Even after hours, our Ms. Laurent needs her dedicated assistant by her side. Always joined at the hip—how do you manage it, kid?”
Claire’s face darkened.
She glared at me, then retorted, “If you’ve had too much to drink, go home. Don’t make such crude jokes here.”
Ryan quickly explained, “You’ve got it all wrong, gentlemen. I’m just learning the business from Ms. Laurent—it’s purely professional, nothing like what you’re suggesting.”
This chance encounter left everyone unhappy.
Claire was in a hurry to leave when one of my buddies stopped her.
He deliberately said, “Ms. Laurent, Ian’s had too much to drink today. He definitely can’t get home by himself. Since you’re heading the same way, why don’t you take him home?”
As soon as he said this, Ryan turned around. Confused and displeased, he said, “Sir, if Mr. Kingsley is drunk, he can just call a driver. Why should Ms. Laurent take him home?”
Everyone could see I had feelings for Claire, and Ryan was no exception. That’s why he was rude to all of us, adding, “Besides, they don’t even live in the same direction!”
One of my friends was so angry he almost stood up to punch him.
Claire quickly stepped in front of Ryan and said, “Don’t you dare touch him!”
Seeing how protective she was of Ryan only made my friend angrier.
He pointed at Claire and said, “Claire, don’t push me. Tell this pretty boy right now what’s really going on between you and Ian!”
Claire’s expression turned cold as she met my friend’s furious gaze. “That’s none of your business. You have no right to interfere.”
Ryan stood behind her, slightly lifting his chin with that smug, challenging look I’d seen so often. But at this moment, it was like pouring gasoline on a fire.
My friend was about to lose control. Just as he was about to explode, I placed my hand on his shoulder.
Then I looked at Claire with a smile and said, “My friend’s drunk. You two can go.”
Claire sighed with relief, eager to leave.
But Ryan just had to press the issue: “Ms. Laurent, what was he saying about your relationship with Mr. Kingsley? What’s that all about?”
A flash of panic crossed Claire’s eyes.
Feeling both helpless and amused, I stepped in to defuse the situation: “Ms. Laurent and I were college classmates. After all these years, we’re naturally friends.”
Ryan gave me a suspicious look. He wanted to ask more, but seeing Claire’s discomfort, he didn’t dare push further.
Claire glanced at me in confusion before hurrying away.
My wife walked off with another man right in front of all my friends. And I had to stand there saying: we’re just friends.
How heartbreaking and ridiculous is that? No need to explain—it’s all in this drink!
I didn’t get home until dawn. To avoid disturbing Claire, I slept in the study.
The next day, I finally saw her at the office. She was sitting on the couch in my office, apparently waiting for me.
I thought she wanted to confront me about last night, but instead she said, “I missed our anniversary last week. I know you’re upset, so let’s leave work early today and make up for it.”
I was surprised and felt it unnecessary. But I didn’t want to face her cold demeanor all day—that would make work difficult.
So I immediately replied, “Let’s go to the French restaurant nearby.” I knew she liked French cuisine, so I suggested it directly.
Actually, I wasn’t too disappointed about her missing our fifth Christmas anniversary. Even before Ryan came along, she was always dismissive about our anniversaries—either not celebrating them or standing me up. That day, she only wanted to reserve for her deceased first love. Who would have thought she’d set our marriage registration date on Xander’s death anniversary?
Before leaving work that evening, I showed Claire Ryan’s position transfer application form.
“The position field is blank. Fill it in yourself and follow the procedure to avoid trouble later.” Neither the HR department nor I could give Ryan—this freeloader who hadn’t even earned a permanent position—a suitable role, so it was better to let Claire decide.
Without a second thought, she wrote “Deputy General Manager” and signed the last page.
I reminded her, “We need two copies—one for the employee and one for HR to keep on file.”
She didn’t hesitate and signed both.
After collecting the documents, I felt a bit dazed. I had used the same trick to get her to sign my resignation letter, and she never noticed.
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My girlfriend ran away pregnant, and when she returned, she was carrying a baby girl, claiming it was mine.
I didn’t doubt her for a second. I welcomed my daughter into the family and planned for her to inherit my business empire. My girlfriend naturally became my wife.
I raised my daughter, but when we were competing for a piece of land, my wife publicly claimed that I had stolen my competitor’s daughter.
Suddenly, the entire internet was calling me a Christmas villain who had prevented a father and daughter from reuniting for eighteen years.
My wife said she wanted to take our daughter to my competitor, claiming he was her real father.
I smiled and let them go, even preparing a gift to wish them a happy family reunion.
But when they saw the gift, their faces turned deathly pale, filled with disbelief.
…
“Jayson Sheridan, Noelle Sheridan is truly your daughter. Look at the paternity test if you don’t believe me!” My girlfriend Meredith Lennox said frantically, holding a baby girl in her arms while desperately searching through her bag with her free hand.
I took the baby from her arms and stopped her frantic searching.
“Meredith, I believe you.”
Meredith froze for a moment, apparently surprised that I accepted the child so easily.
A flash of joy quickly crossed her eyes, which I pretended not to notice.
Then, I took her hand with a loving expression.
“Meredith, you’ve been through so much. You’ve been gone for over a year, yet you still gave birth to my child.”
I paused briefly before continuing.
“I’ll arrange for our daughter to be formally recognized by my family, and I’ll marry you as soon as possible.”
Meredith was both surprised and delighted, nodding eagerly.
I transferred a large sum of money to her for purchasing everything the baby needed.
Considering how difficult it would be for her to care for the child alone, I also contacted a housekeeping agency to arrange for several experienced live-in nannies.
On the day of our wedding, many industry leaders attended.
While clinking glasses with me, they whispered their concerns.
“Mr. Sheridan, we haven’t seen any woman by your side for months. Where did this child come from?”
“Have you done a paternity test? Don’t let yourself be deceived!”
“Indeed, those of us in the business world can’t afford to be naive.”
“…”
They all questioned the identity of my suddenly-appearing child.
I smiled and brushed off their comments.
My gaze traveled across the hall, landing on my daughter who was being fed.
The corner of my mouth curved upward slightly, revealing a mysterious smile.
Just a child—I could certainly afford to raise her.
However, those who thought they could use me as a fall guy would have a difficult time ahead.
“Jayson, what are you all talking about?” Meredith approached us.
She affectionately took my arm, holding a glass of red wine in her other hand.
I mentioned casually, “Oh, nothing important. Just some business associates kindly suggesting that this child might not be mine.”
After speaking, I swirled the wine in my glass, observing the expressions on her face with interest.
A flash of panic crossed Meredith’s eyes, but she quickly countered, “How could that be? Jayson, I would never betray you!”
“Besides, I had a paternity test done for the baby. I still have the document!”
Her grip on my arm tightened noticeably. Her hand trembled, spilling the crimson wine onto her wedding dress, making it look like blood.
I laughed inwardly.
Still keeping the paternity test document? Wasn’t that just to be prepared for anyone’s suspicions?
Meredith’s acting skills were terrible. How did she think she could fool me?
Fortunately for her, I was willing to play along. Otherwise, who could she possibly have deceived?
I gently patted the back of her hand, reassuring her:
“It’s okay, don’t worry. How could I not believe you?”
“Your wedding dress is stained though. It’s bad luck on our wedding day. You should go change into something else.”
Perhaps seeing how calm I was, Meredith relaxed.
She leaned into my embrace and said sweetly:
“Jayson, you still trust me just like before.”
“I trust you too. I know you’ll give us—mother and daughter—a good life. The three of us will be very happy together.”
Seeing how much we trusted each other, my friends exchanged glances but said nothing more.
I knew what they were thinking, but I just smiled without responding.
Did I trust her?
No, I only trusted myself and my foolproof plan.
I urged Meredith to go change her clothes.
Standing in the monitoring room, I clearly saw her making a phone call in the corner of our wedding suite.
Her gleeful voice came through the screen, each word reaching my ears:
“Darling, don’t worry. Jayson doesn’t suspect a thing.”
“I didn’t even need to show him the fake paternity test I had prepared. He just believed me.”
“He’s such a fool, believing everything I say.”
“Perhaps he really does like me. What a shame…”
Meredith’s smug, mocking voice echoed around me.
Hah!
She probably didn’t realize that those who try to fool others often end up being fooled themselves.
I calmly finished my glass of red wine in one gulp, then left the monitoring room.
The next day, my parents, who had been traveling abroad, rushed back home.
“Jayson, have you lost your mind? Some random woman shows up with a child, and you just accept them?”
“You should at least verify if the child is yours! Don’t let people call you a sucker behind your back!”
My mother, dressed like a wealthy middle-aged woman, didn’t even bother changing her mud-splattered clothes before starting to lecture me.
My father looked equally displeased.
“Jayson, if you want children, get married properly first.”
“Women from outside aren’t reliable. Anyone who has a child before marriage clearly isn’t decent!”
Meredith stood awkwardly beside me.
My parents made no effort to hide their comments from her.
I poured each of my parents a glass of water, ignoring their anger.
“Dad, Mom, if you’d told me earlier you were coming back from abroad, I would have picked you up at the airport!”
“Your timing is unfortunate—you missed my wedding to Meredith.”
My parents grew even angrier and a huge argument broke out.
With no other option, I had Meredith produce the paternity test.
My parents examined it thoroughly while Meredith looked tense, as if afraid they might spot a flaw.
After reviewing it, my mother tossed the document onto the coffee table.
“Where’s the child? I want to take her for a DNA test myself!”
“My son may be easily fooled, but I’m not senile yet!”
Clearly, my mother didn’t trust anything Meredith presented—she wanted to verify for herself.
The nanny quickly brought the baby, but just as my mother reached for her, Meredith snatched the child away.
She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“Husband, since your parents don’t trust me, I’ll just leave with our daughter!”
As she spoke, I saw her pinch the baby’s thigh hard.
The little girl immediately burst into tears. Meredith comforted the child while crying herself:
“Baby, it’s all Mommy’s fault. I couldn’t keep your father. From now on, even if I have to sell everything I own, I’ll raise you myself!”
After watching Meredith’s performance, I took my daughter back from her arms.
“Dad, Mom, you don’t need to test anything. I believe her—this is my daughter!”
My parents shook their heads at me, probably thinking I’d gone mad.
Soon, it was time for my daughter’s hundredth-day celebration.
I made the event particularly grand, with guests who were either wealthy tycoons or influential figures.
Even major media outlets attended.
They were all especially curious about my love story with Meredith.
After all, I had never publicly acknowledged any girlfriend before, yet had quietly gotten married.
When they learned that Meredith had left while pregnant and then returned, they were all utterly astonished.
“Good heavens! This kind of storyline only exists in novels—I never imagined it could happen in real life!”
“Mrs. Sheridan is incredibly fortunate to have someone like Mr. Sheridan who accepts her so unconditionally.”
“I absolutely adore this kind of love story—she left for half a year, and when she returned, you were still waiting in the same place. Mr. Sheridan, you’re truly the epitome of devotion!”
“…”
Meredith basked in their envious gazes, unconsciously straightening her back even more.
Now, thanks to our daughter, she had status. No matter what people said privately about her getting pregnant before marriage, our daughter was officially acknowledged by me as the Sheridan family heiress.
I also publicly announced that I would eventually pass my company to my daughter.
When naming my daughter, I thought long and hard.
Noelle—this name represented my feelings about her arrival.
Meredith was very satisfied with this name and always called her “Noelle.”
She probably thought I chose this name because the child’s appearance brought warmth into my life.
After the hundredth-day celebration, I became increasingly attentive to Noelle’s affairs.
My work kept me extremely busy, often leaving little time to spend with her, so I would bring her various exquisite little gifts whenever I returned home.
When I had free time, I would play with her—building blocks, riding twist cars, assembling Ultraman toys.
Anyone witnessing these moments would believe I deeply loved my daughter, not even minding that her interests were childish.
My parents, however, never accepted Noelle.
Even when Noelle approached them, they instinctively avoided her.
They would just look at me and sigh.
“Ah, who knows who all this hard work is ultimately for!”
Hearing this, I would just smile.
Of course, it was all for myself.
After Noelle started school, I never missed a single parent-teacher conference.
No matter how busy work became, I always put Noelle’s matters first.
Noelle’s teachers often said she was fortunate to have such a good father.
Whenever they said this, Noelle would take my hand and proudly declare:
“Of course! My dad and I are the best in the world!”
And Meredith would stand behind us, her face beaming with satisfaction.
Noelle grew more beautiful with each passing day.
After she came of age, countless men pursued her.
This was largely due to her status as the Sheridan family heiress.
Meredith always thought she had deceived me well, keeping me from discovering her scheme until now.
But what she didn’t know was that I had expert guidance behind the scenes.
I had a bitter rival in the business world, Julian Lockwood.
We were simultaneously competing for a piece of land, but the seller couldn’t decide which of us to sell it to.
Privately, Julian approached me.
“Jayson, if you don’t want to lose too badly, I advise you to give up.”
The corner of my mouth curved upward into a smile.
“Oh? Where does your confidence come from, thinking I’ll definitely lose?”
Julian said nothing, just smiled meaningfully.
He believed he would certainly win, but he had no idea I was also planning a grand scheme!
Finally, he patted my chest with the back of his hand and raised his eyebrows slightly.
“Since you refuse the easy way, we’ll see what happens!”
I told him that whether it was the easy way or the hard way, I wouldn’t accept anything from him.
Julian and I parted on bad terms.
A few days later, the internet was buzzing with rumors that I had stolen Julian’s daughter.
According to Julian, he had been diagnosed with azoospermia a few years ago and now, approaching middle age, still had no children, facing the prospect of his lineage ending.
Just then, my wife came forward claiming that Noelle was actually her daughter with Julian.
And despite knowing this, I had still brought Noelle into my home.
Because of my deep personal grudge against Julian, I deliberately kept father and daughter apart for eighteen years.
The public’s impression of me as a good father instantly vanished.
I was viciously condemned online as a manipulative villain.
Julian even brought reporters to my home to demand his child back.
“Jayson, have you absolutely no shame?! Noelle is MY daughter—return her to me this instant!”
“If Meredith hadn’t revealed the truth, God knows how long I would have been deceived by your treachery!”
“You deliberately made my daughter take your surname—you’re nothing but a conniving snake!”
“…”
Julian hurled one vicious accusation after another.
He never mentioned how well I had raised Noelle, only calling me devious and underhanded at every turn.
My parents nearly collapsed from anger; my mother, in a fit of rage, slapped Meredith hard across the face.
“I knew you were nothing but trouble—you really did come to deceive my son!”
Meredith covered her stinging cheek, glanced awkwardly at me, then said with feigned innocence:
“It was all your son who made me do this, forcing Noelle to accept an impostor as her father!”
“I couldn’t bear the deception anymore, so I spoke up. At least I have a conscience, unlike him!”
My mother nearly fainted from fury at these words. As I quickly supported her, I said with a cold smile:
“Fine, you can take Noelle away.”
“Actually, I’ve prepared a gift for your family!”
I gave the housekeeper a look, and she immediately retrieved a gift box from my study.
When the box opened, their eyes widened, their faces filled with disbelief.
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On Singles’ Day, my wife listed me for sale on her online store:
“Worthless Husband Clearance Sale: $998 for a dinner date, $9,998 for overnight, $99,998 for a month. No returns or exchanges.”
When I asked her what was going on, she was busy drinking with her first love and snapped at me impatiently:
“It’s just a joke! What are you so worked up about? Do you really think anyone would buy you?”
“As if! Such a useless man—whoever buys you would be getting ripped off. I’d actually love it if someone bought you so I could cash in!”
But then a wealthy woman actually placed an order, offering five million dollars to buy me for life.
My wife panicked, willing to pay an exorbitant penalty fee, crying and refusing to let me go.
…
I froze when I accidentally came across Molly Hayes’ online store.
She had listed me for sale with clearly marked prices.
“Worthless Husband Clearance Sale:
$998 for a dinner date, $9,998 for overnight, $99,998 for a month. No returns or exchanges.”
The product page featured all my most unflattering photos.
The description read:
“Ugly, lazy, incompetent, can’t make money.
He begged me on his knees before I agreed to be with him.
This must be karma punishing me for something terrible I did in a past life.
If any kind-hearted blind person could save me from this misery, I’d appreciate it~”
My heart sank. After eight years of marriage, I never imagined this was how she saw me!
Just then, my phone received a location pin from Molly, with her usual commanding tone:
“Come pick me up. Be here within 30 minutes or you’re sleeping in the doghouse tonight.”
She’d always treated me this way, without an ounce of respect.
At this point, I wasn’t even angry anymore—just utterly exhausted.
While driving, I noticed people were actually placing orders on that product link.
Worried about misunderstandings, I hurriedly sped toward the bar.
Molly was having a great time with her friends.
Just as I was about to speak, I heard her excitedly shout:
“You lost! Pay up! Click the link! Make that loser take you out for spaghetti, hahaha!”
Her friend reluctantly pulled out her phone, and moments later, another order appeared on the link.
In that moment, my heart felt like it had plunged into an icy abyss. My wife thought so little of me that she was treating me like a plaything to be passed around among her friends!
Another round of their game began, and Molly lost.
She pouted in disgust and said:
“I’m already sick of looking at him every day, and now I have to spend money to eat spaghetti with him?!”
That’s when Sean Murphy, sitting beside her, put his arm around her shoulders and declared:
“Don’t place an order if you don’t want to. You’re my woman, not Nathan Shaw’s.
I’ll cover your loss—drinks are on me tonight, everyone!”
Molly looked at him adoringly and planted a kiss on him.
Amid her friends’ cheers, I quietly approached them.
All eyes turned to me—the legitimate husband.
They knew I had seen and heard everything.
Yet not one of them felt awkward or embarrassed.
Instead, they laughed carelessly:
“Well, well, if it isn’t Molly’s pathetic pushover of a husband showing up right on cue!
Better go home with him before he gets down on his knees begging again!”
In everyone’s mind, Molly had always loved Sean since childhood.
I had fallen for her at first sight and pursued her relentlessly.
I even supposedly begged her on my knees to be with me.
That’s why she gave up Sean and married me instead.
Molly never respected me, and everyone looked down on me as a pathetic fool.
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore their contemptuous looks, and said in a hoarse voice:
“Take down the listing. Stop misleading people. This isn’t funny at all.”
Molly remained silent, not even bothering to look at me.
Sean licked his lips and said smugly:
“What’s the rush? Molly can post whatever she wants.
Or are you actually worried someone might buy you?”
As soon as he finished speaking, everyone burst into laughter.
Molly laughed the hardest, clutching her stomach, barely able to straighten up.
Suddenly, she grabbed her phone and started typing furiously.
Moments later, my phone began vibrating non-stop.
In a flash, Molly had blasted the product link across multiple group chats and even posted it on Facebook!
Her caption read:
“Just playing a joke on my husband, and he’s actually worried someone might buy him!
This man is so stupid, hahaha! Take a look, everyone—would any of you buy him?”
Some friends urged her to take it down.
But more people joined in mocking me.
“Too ordinary yet so confident. Dreaming too big. Next!”
“With that face, you think you’re worth money? Better eat something nutritious first!”
Even Molly’s father chimed in:
“He’s not worth a damn! Instead of worrying about this nonsense, he should be out making more money to give my daughter a better life!”
Sean read these comments aloud while Molly and her friends laughed hysterically.
Perhaps in their eyes, I was no different from a monkey in a zoo—just a joke.
I watched disappointedly as tears of laughter streamed down Molly’s face, feeling completely numb inside.
I once loved her with all my heart, enduring whatever treatment she gave me.
But at this moment, I couldn’t help remembering what my parents had said:
“Molly doesn’t love you that much. If you’re not happy, just get a divorce!”
While lost in thought, Molly’s phone suddenly pinged.
Someone had placed an order—500 units at once.
Nearly five million dollars to buy me for forty years!
Everyone’s smiles suddenly froze as they began whispering among themselves:
“Someone actually bought him? Could they be trafficking him overseas, or involved in illegal organ harvesting?”
Molly’s expression grew panicked. Perhaps I was mistaken, but in her eyes, there seemed to be a hint of concern and reluctance.
Her voice trembled as she said, “Don’t scare yourselves! I’ll just explain to the buyer and arrange a refund right away.”
Sean stopped her.
“Why refund? It’s five million dollars! Baby, have you forgotten our dream? With this money, we could buy a nice car and travel the world together!”
At the mention of their past, Molly’s expression filled with nostalgia and yearning. But remembering her friends’ speculations, she still hesitated.
Sean then put on a sorrowful face and said, “Someone once knelt down and forced you to reject me. You’ve already abandoned me once. Are you going to disappoint me a second time?”
Molly seemed struck by some secret memory, her eyes flooding with guilt as she looked at Sean.
I was shocked by Sean’s shamelessness and fixed him with an icy stare. “You know perfectly well in your heart who really disappointed whom, don’t you?”
A flash of guilt crossed Sean’s face before he gave Molly a wounded look.
Molly immediately shielded him protectively behind her, her eyes nothing but cold indifference when she turned to me.
She shouted furiously, “You constantly claim to love me, so what’s wrong with sacrificing something for me? You’re so utterly useless—you should feel honored to finally have a chance to earn money for me! Besides, if it weren’t for you, I would have been with Sean long ago. I wouldn’t feel this regret now! This is what you owe us! You need to pay up!”
With that, she transferred the money directly to Sean.
I stared at Molly, utterly incredulous, my voice hollow with desperation: “Even if I’m trafficked overseas and have my organs harvested, you truly don’t care?”
Her eyes flickered momentarily, but she remained firm beside Sean, silently nodding.
This scene was like a razor-sharp sword piercing straight through my heart, then twisting violently inside, shredding my soul until I could barely breathe through the agony.
When the pain reached its unbearable peak, a strange clarity washed over me. I didn’t want to explain anything anymore and just said with a bitter smile, “Since you both harbor such regret, let’s get divorced. I’ll set you free.”
Her response was a stinging slap across my face. Despite her being the one who didn’t love me, her eyes were rimmed with red.
The people around us burst into mocking laughter: “Stop the act! Everyone knows you love Molly more than your own life. As if you’d actually divorce her! You’re just pretending to want a divorce for attention!”
Seeing their reaction, Molly finally relaxed. She looked at me with utter disgust, pointing at my face as she scolded, “How did I never notice how pathetic you are, trying to manipulate me by playing hard to get? If you pull this stunt again, I really will leave you!”
There wouldn’t be a next time. Because this time, it wasn’t her leaving me—I was leaving her.
I got divorce papers from a lawyer and packed my luggage.
Molly finally panicked. She snatched back my suitcase with tears streaming down her face, desperately apologizing.
“Honey, I’m so sorry. I just realized that you’re the one I truly love. I can’t bear to lose you. I can’t live without you. I’ll contact the buyer for a refund immediately. Please, I’m begging you, don’t divorce me, okay?”
My heart, wounded countless times, betrayed me again, softening at the sight of her tears.
I wanted to push her away firmly and walk out with dignity. But after loving her for ten Christmases—ten years of holidays spent together, building memories—I simply couldn’t let go.
Molly and I reconciled, and her attitude toward me improved significantly. We increasingly resembled a normal, loving couple.
One day, she asked me to pick something up for her at a certain café.
After waiting for quite some time, a pair of high heels finally stopped in front of me.
A gentle, pleasant female voice spoke above me:
“Are you Nathan? Hello, I’m the person who bought you.”
In that moment, despair flooded over me completely, drowning me in its depths.
When pain reached its peak, I found myself laughing—laughing at what a complete fool I’d been!
To actually believe Molly would fall in love with me!
I raised my head, intending to explain to the buyer.
But the moment I saw her face clearly, I froze.
She brushed back her slightly curled hair, her almond-shaped eyes curving into a smile as she sat across from me in her modest heels.
That familiar feeling rushed back all at once.
It was Vivian Coleman!
She was my college classmate and also my colleague when I worked at Cornwall.
Unfortunately, I later gave up my promising career for Molly and moved to this small city.
Years had passed—Vivian must be doing quite well for herself now.
She nodded with a bright smile and said, “I’m still at the same company, now as Vice President.”
“What a shame. If you had stayed with me back then, with your talent, you would certainly be…”
I quickly changed the subject: “Let’s not dwell on the past.”
“Anyway, that online store listing was just my wife’s joke. You actually placed an order? Do you have too much money to spend? I’ll go back and have her refund you right away!”
Vivian shook her head, saying very seriously:
“No refund. From today on, your next forty years belong to me.”
“I want you back at the company to help me. I believe the value you’ll create will far exceed five million.”
At this point, she suddenly smiled mischievously and started counting on her fingers.
“Don’t worry, I’m not stupid. I used all kinds of coupons, so it was quite a bargain.
“Besides, I only bought you for forty years, with the contract ending when you’re 67.
“By then you’ll be close to retirement. If your wife still wants you back, I can return you to her!”
Looking at her serious expression, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Vivian had even brought a labor contract with her.
The position was Project Manager with a very tempting salary. She told me to think it over carefully.
Not long after she left, a new comment appeared on the online store listing.
“Excellent person, worth every penny.”
This comment stood out starkly among all the others belittling me.
I suddenly felt my eyes stinging, and realized: since I gave up everything to come to this small city, no one had ever praised me.
When I got home, just as I stepped out of the elevator, I saw my luggage carelessly thrown in the hallway.
Molly’s unrestrained laughter came from inside.
“That idiot—I just cried a little, and he completely fell for it.
“You should have seen how touched he was!
“He didn’t even think about it—how could I possibly love a useless man like him?
“I’ve already arranged with the buyer. That fool will follow her to Cornwall, and Sean can move in.”
I took a deep breath. The pain of slow torture probably feels something like this.
I took out my key to open the door, only to discover Sean and Molly’s parents were all there.
They looked more like a family, sitting closely together, all looking at me with contempt and mockery.
Sean even exaggerated his expression, saying:
“Well, look who’s back—the guy bought by a rich woman. How well did you serve her? Did you sleep with her yet?”
At the words “sleep with,” Molly frowned, her expression suddenly darkening.
Molly’s mother glanced at me with disgust and said:
“The buyer must be blind. Are you blind too? Can’t you see we have guests? Hurry up and boil water, make coffee!”
Seeing me standing motionless, Molly’s father grew more impatient, pointing at the various gifts nearby:
“Look at Sean, bringing ginseng and fine wine when he visits! He even promised to take me to France for treatment!
“And look at you—you can’t even make money during Christmas, never brought anything good when visiting, and you couldn’t even find someone to help with my illness!”
“If you hadn’t desperately begged on your knees for my daughter to be with you back then, she would have married Sean long ago, and my illness might have been cured by now!”
I looked at them silently, feeling an intense coldness in my heart.
Eight years ago, Molly’s father suddenly fell ill.
I gave up my promising career in Cornwall and took an ordinary job in this small city.
I accompanied him to doctor appointments while taking care of the entire Hayes family.
His condition meant he couldn’t touch alcohol or eat overly nourishing food, so I carefully planned his diet.
I never expected that in the end, this would be twisted into me being incompetent!
But what about their precious son-in-law Sean? What did he do back then?
I laughed coldly and said:
“You think I came between Molly and Sean? When you got sick, Sean quickly distanced himself from Molly to pursue a wealthy heiress. He even threatened to have Molly beaten to death if she kept pursuing him!”
I only pursued Molly to spare her from heartbreak.
At that time, her attitude toward me gradually changed, becoming increasingly intimate.
She said she wanted to see how much I loved her and asked me to kneel before her.
I gritted my teeth and did it.
Later we dated and married. She always thought she was the one who gave up Sean, never knowing she was actually the one who got dumped.
After hearing what I said, Sean’s face was filled with guilt.
Molly, however, scoffed contemptuously:
“You think you can drive a wedge between Sean and me that easily? Don’t think I’m that stupid!
“I know exactly what kind of person he is, and I know what kind of person you are too!
“You claim he abandoned me? Where’s your proof? Without evidence, get out of our house right now!”
Sean finally found his courage and said smugly:
“Exactly! What evidence do you have to falsely accuse me?
“My love for Molly is as true as heaven and earth! This is our home, and you’re not welcome here!”
Everyone stared at me with hostile eyes.
I didn’t argue further, just silently dragged my luggage and left.
Seeing this, Sean became even more smug. Even as I reached the ground floor, he was still leaning out the window, calling me a cheap liar and all sorts of names.
But who said I had no evidence? Back then, Sean was afraid Molly would cling to him, and to prove his loyalty to his new girlfriend, he wrote a breakup letter with particularly hurtful words. I managed to intercept the letter before Molly could see it. That letter had been stuffed in the storage room, collecting dust for years.
Now, I dusted it off and mailed it to Molly along with the divorce agreement. She loved Sean so much, surely she would recognize his handwriting immediately, wouldn’t she?
Dawn was breaking. Just as the mail would be arriving in Molly’s hands, Vivian and I met at the airport, preparing to go to Cornwall.
Suddenly, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID displaying “Beloved Wife” and smiled sarcastically before hanging up and changing the contact name to simply “Molly.”
But she kept calling back, so I had to answer.
The moment I connected, Molly’s trembling, rage-filled voice came through:
“Nathan, what do you mean by this?!”
In the past, Molly held a rope that controlled my emotions—my happiness, anger, sorrow, and joy were all tied to her every move. I had worked so hard, endured so much pain, to finally take back control of that rope. Now, I could face her calmly.
I replied evenly:
“Isn’t it obvious from what you’ve seen?
“My intention is clear—you wanted evidence, so I gave you evidence.
“And I want a divorce.”
Molly let out a cold laugh.
“Keep dreaming! I’ll never agree to a divorce. Even if I sold you, you’re still mine!
“And you think forging a letter will drive a wedge between Sean and me? Even if I don’t like him, I would never like a loser like you!”
Hearing such hurtful words, I just smiled. Molly didn’t realize that her voice was shaking as she spoke, completely lacking conviction.
I didn’t bother arguing with her and sighed:
“Deep down, you know that letter was written by Sean. You’re just in denial.
“Molly, you don’t need to answer me. Just search your conscience and think about it.
“You’ve always said I broke you and Sean up, but when I confessed to you back then, you were free to choose.
“And you chose to be with me. Doesn’t that mean…”
Doesn’t that mean that back then, she had already fallen for me? Only her habit of clinging to the past made her think she still loved Sean, causing her to increasingly resent me and even blame me.
As soon as I finished speaking, there was a noticeable catch in her breath on the other end. It seemed Molly already had her answer.
I was about to hang up when she suddenly said in a trembling voice:
“Is that buyer next to you?
“Put her on the phone. I want to talk to her.”
I instinctively glanced at Vivian. Not sure about Molly’s current mental state and whether she might say something extreme, I was planning to ignore her request.
But just as I was about to end the call, Vivian suddenly took the phone from my hand.
She smiled slightly and said into the receiver:
“Hello, I’m Nathan’s buyer. What can I do for you?”
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After my third premature delivery, I gave birth to a stillborn baby. My emotional distress triggered severe hemorrhaging.
Andrew Lawson, for my sake, performed the traditional kowtow ritual at the temple, kneeling and bowing nine times for blessings.
Post-surgery, I lay in the hospital bed. I had just opened my eyes and was about to press the call button for a nurse when I inadvertently overheard Andrew and the doctor talking outside my door.
“Andrew, this is the third child you and Scarlett Sheridan have lost. Even the strongest woman would struggle to bear the pain of losing three children in succession!”
“Lillian Hayes says she needs medicine made from infant hearts, and you’re killing your own children for her? You’ve truly lost your mind.”
“I promised Lillian I would cure her illness. Once she recovers, Scarlett and I will have a healthy child. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to Scarlett, treating her well…”
My hand, poised to press the call button, began to tremble. So in his eyes, my children’s lives were merely “medicinal ingredients” to be sacrificed for Lillian’s treatment. Since fate had allowed me to discover this truth, I refused to be deceived and used by Andrew any longer.
“These three medically induced stillbirths have already caused serious damage to Scarlett’s body. If you want her to continue getting pregnant, aren’t you worried her body won’t withstand it?”
“After all, Scarlett is your wife. What you’re doing to her is too cruel. Have you considered how she’ll emotionally cope with the loss of those children in the future?”
Andrew impatiently cut off the doctor: “Enough! I consider you a brother, that’s why I asked for your help. This is my family matter, and I don’t need you meddling in my affairs. Remember to prescribe the best medicine for Scarlett so she can recover quickly and get pregnant again.”
The doctor sighed deeply, full of reluctance: “Scarlett has been pregnant three years in a row, and now with this hemorrhage, her body needs at least a year to recover before she can conceive again.”
“Lillian can’t wait a year. I don’t care what methods you use—once Scarlett is discharged, I want her pregnant immediately!” Andrew’s gaze was determined, his tone brooking no argument.
As the doctor left, he glanced at my medical chart, a flash of sympathy crossing his face: “Andrew, Scarlett has sacrificed so much for you over these years. We all see it as your friends. How can you do this to her… Never mind, think about it yourself. Don’t regret it later.”
“Alright, go prepare the medicine now.”
Andrew pushed open the door and entered my room. I quickly closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. He placed one hand over my IV tube, trying to warm the cold medicine with his body heat. With his other hand, he took out his phone and sent a voice message to Lillian: “Lillian, the medicine should have reached you by now, right? Take good care of yourself and don’t worry about the medicine. I promised to cure your illness, and I won’t break my word.”
I fought hard to hold back my tears. What I had believed was love turned out to be a lie from beginning to end.
Andrew’s sudden proposal was only because Lillian had fallen ill and needed medication. After our marriage, we quickly conceived. Everything seemed normal during the prenatal checkups, but in the seventh month, I suddenly went into premature labor and delivered a stillborn baby.
I was both guilt-ridden and heartbroken. Andrew held me in his arms, kissing me and comforting me: “Honey, it’s okay. We’re still young. This child will return to us. The most important thing is for you to rest well and recover.”
With his support, I pulled myself together and gradually emerged from my emotional darkness. But the following year, I delivered another stillborn in my eighth month. The doctor said it was just bad luck. Andrew pretended to console me, saying we would definitely have a healthy baby next time.
This time, the result was the same. For three years, I had been consumed by guilt, self-blame, and fear—all part of a scheme designed to cure Lillian.
I slowly opened my eyes to see Andrew’s seemingly concerned gaze.
“Honey, you’re awake? Are you uncomfortable anywhere? Should I call the doctor? Does your wound still hurt?”
This scene had played out three times now. Andrew’s acting skills had become increasingly refined. If I hadn’t accidentally heard the truth, I would have been deceived again.
I placed my hand on my flat abdomen and said, “We lost this baby too, Andrew. Let’s not try for another child.”
Andrew’s expression turned panicked. He quickly pulled a protective talisman from his pocket and placed it in my hand. “Honey, this is a safety amulet I prayed for this morning, performing the kowtow ritual at the temple for your sake. It will surely protect you and our child. Let’s not give up, okay? Our next baby will be healthy for sure.”
I stared directly into his eyes and said, “Andrew, my body can’t take it anymore.”
Andrew’s expression froze on his face.
I fought back my grief and anger, pretending to ask casually, “What did the doctor say?”
Andrew suddenly cupped my face in his hands, looking serious. “The doctor said you’re in good health. Once you’re discharged, we can try for another baby. Don’t worry, I’ll go right now and have the doctor give you the best medication. Just focus on getting better—don’t worry about the baby.”
With that, he immediately stood up and left the room.
He didn’t notice how my body instantly stiffened, nor did he see the disappointment in my eyes.
As soon as he stepped outside, he eagerly made a phone call.
His voice carried through the wall: “Didn’t I tell you to switch Scarlett to the special medication? Why hasn’t it been done yet? We’ve used this drug before, so why won’t it work this time? She’s extremely weak right now. I don’t care about the side effects—I want her to recover immediately, preferably discharged within a week.”
I lay in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling as tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.
Was this the result of his proposal, when he promised to love me forever and always treat me well? In the end, there was nothing but deception and pain.
I turned to my side and noticed another safety charm on the floor—identical to the one he had given me.
Except this charm had Lillian’s name written on the back.
So when Andrew performed the solemn ritual of kneeling three times and kowtowing nine times at the mountain temple, was he praying for my safety and our children’s, or for Lillian’s health?
Andrew quickly returned with the doctor to change my medication.
He thoughtfully helped me sit up, placed a pillow behind my back, and gently kissed my forehead. “Honey, this medicine is imported from abroad. You’ll get better soon.”
He watched as those drugs—full of side effects—were injected into my body, all while wearing what appeared to be a tender, caring smile.
I had to admit, he was truly ruthless toward me, showing not even a hint of mercy.
When he left, I took out my phone and booked an international flight, also applying to cancel my identity information.
Over the next few days, he stayed with me at the hospital, personally wiping my body, feeding me meals and soup, doing everything possible to cheer me up.
Even the doctors and nurses at the hospital envied me for having such a good husband.
His performance never seemed to exhaust him, and I saw no point in exposing his charade.
On the day of my discharge, he prepared 999 roses to celebrate my homecoming.
That night, just as I finished showering, he eagerly approached and kissed my lips.
As he was about to take things further, I shoved him away. “I just got out of the hospital. I need more time to rest.”
After my rejection, a flash of displeasure crossed his eyes, but he patiently comforted me: “Honey, I asked the doctor today. He said you’re completely fine now.”
With that, he moved closer again.
I pushed him forcefully, catching him off guard and knocking him to the floor.
This time, his expression turned cold. “If you’re not feeling well, fine. I have work at the company anyway. I won’t be coming home tonight.”
He slammed the door on his way out.
I put on a coat and went to the study, searching the drawers for my documents.
After finding my passport and ID card, I was about to leave when I noticed a black book on the dusty bookshelf that looked unusually clean.
Curious, I reached out to grab it.
When I pulled, the book didn’t budge, but I heard a “click” from the wall on the other side, revealing a hidden door.
I pushed the door open and entered. In the center of the room stood a table covered with red cloth.
Three glass jars sat on the table.
As I looked closer, I nearly screamed, cold sweat instantly soaking my back.
The jars contained three infant corpses—all missing their hearts.
Were these my three lost children?
With my heart still pounding in terror, I forced myself to examine the jars more carefully. I noticed red symbols painted on all three glass jars that I couldn’t understand.
I took pictures, blurred out the infant parts, and posted them online asking for information.
Soon, several users commented on my post:
“These look like suppression talismans, usually used to trap the souls of heinous criminals, preventing them from finding peace or reincarnating.”
“I just asked a Taoist priest I know. He says these are spells to trap departed souls. People who have harmed others sometimes use these to prevent revenge from beyond.”
…
Reading the responses, I trembled with rage.
Andrew had gone so far as to curse his own children—truly the height of evil.
Was he afraid for himself, or was he protecting Lillian from retribution?
Early the next morning, Andrew finally returned home.
Someone was following behind him.
“Scarlett, long time no see.”
Lillian peeked out from behind Andrew, giving me a playful smile.
Andrew hurriedly explained to me, “My parents said they haven’t seen Lillian in ages. They’re hosting a family dinner today, and since we’re heading back anyway, I thought I’d bring her along.”
As if afraid I might misunderstand, he added, “I was working late at the office last night. I only picked her up this morning.”
Lillian and Andrew were childhood sweethearts who grew up together.
It made sense that the Lawson parents would want to see her.
“Don’t worry, I’m not overthinking it. It’s getting late, let’s head out.”
Seeing that I wasn’t angry, Andrew quietly sighed in relief.
Andrew opened the passenger door for me, but Lillian rushed in and sat down first.
“Scarlett, my health is poor and I get carsick easily. I can’t sit in the back.”
After saying this, she shot me a challenging smile.
Seeing that Andrew had no intention of intervening, I turned and took a seat in the back.
Throughout the journey, I kept my eyes closed, pretending to rest.
In the front, Lillian and Andrew chatted about childhood memories, completely ignoring me.
When we arrived at the Lawson residence, during dinner, the Lawson couple showed me nothing but cold faces after I had lost my third baby.
The resentment I had been holding back suddenly erupted.
I made an excuse about being full, left the table, and walked toward the garden.
I removed the wedding ring from my finger and threw it forcefully into the pond.
Just then, Lillian suddenly appeared beside me, standing next to me.
“Scarlett, it must be devastating not being able to give Andrew a child after three pregnancies. You know, premature babies aren’t always stillborn. I once saw one that was alive—he had beautiful eyes, just like yours. Such a pity he died without ever seeing his mother…”
“Enough!” I had just raised my hand, without even touching her clothes, when she suddenly fell into the pond.
Before I could react, Andrew had already jumped in and pulled her out.
Andrew shouted at me furiously, “Scarlett, have you lost your mind? Why would you attack Lillian? You know her health is fragile—are you trying to kill her?”
Lillian curled up in Andrew’s arms, saying in a weak voice, “I just saw that Scarlett had lost another child and was afraid she’d be heartbroken. I was only trying to comfort her. I never thought she’d push me into the pond… Don’t blame her, she’s grieving the loss of her child.”
Andrew turned to me with a cold face, “Scarlett, apologize to Lillian right now!”
I looked at Andrew and smiled sarcastically, “Apologize? I think you two are the ones who should be apologizing! Don’t you KNOW exactly what happened to my babies? How dare you pretend?”
A flash of panic crossed Andrew’s eyes, “The doctor said it was just bad luck, didn’t he? You can’t blame innocent people just because you lost your babies.”
The Lawson couple rushed over, having heard the commotion.
“Why bother with a woman who can’t continue the Lawson bloodline? We should never have stopped you from being with Lillian. Who would have thought her body would be even weaker than yours? Quickly, take Lillian to her room to change clothes. We can’t let her catch a cold.”
Watching them walk away, I gritted my teeth, seething with hatred.
I walked out of the Lawson mansion and took a taxi home.
Not long after, Andrew texted me: “Don’t take today’s incident to heart. What I said was just for show. Lillian has caught a slight cold and needs to stay here to recover. I’ll stay for a few days too, to keep my parents company. My parents aren’t really angry with you—they just want a grandson. In a few days, buy them some gifts and they’ll come around.”
They want a grandson, do they? Well, I have a gift that will surely touch their hearts.
For the next three days, Andrew didn’t come home.
I threw away everything in the house that was related to me.
Before boarding my flight, I called Andrew.
When the call connected, it was Lillian who answered. She deliberately lowered her voice and said, “Scarlett, Andrew is busy making spaghetti for me and can’t take your call. It seems you already know the truth, but what you might not know is that my illness was cured long ago. I fed all three babies’ hearts to dogs. There was never any special medicine that needed hearts—it was just a joke I made up, and he actually believed it.”
Before I could react, the phone was handed to Andrew.
“Honey, I was busy just now. Why did you call?”
With the taste of blood filling my mouth from rage, I said, “Andrew, I’ve prepared a gift for your parents. It will be delivered soon.”
“Honey, you’re the best.”
After hanging up, I removed my SIM card, threw it away, and boarded the plane.
Andrew continued to watch over the nutritious spaghetti he was cooking for Lillian, not forgetting to instruct the servant to make sure my gift was delivered to Mr. and Mrs. Lawson.
Shortly after, the Lawson couple screamed in horror, “What is this? Andrew, get over here! Look at what Scarlett sent us!”
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My cousin Owen lost his job in the mass layoffs before Christmas and immediately set his sights on working at my wife’s company.
At our family gathering, he first tried to guilt-trip me with an entitled attitude: “Cousin, I noticed your wife’s company needs a secretary, right? I’ll reluctantly help you solve this problem. Those spaghetti interviews or whatever—no need for that. I’m your cousin, after all. As for salary, I won’t ask for much. Ten thousand after taxes would be fine.”
Then he mocked me with that passive-aggressive tone mixing fake sweetness with toxic masculinity, accusing me of cheating and getting plastic surgery.
In the past, I might have softened and agreed, even becoming flustered by his false accusations.
But this time was different. I’ve been reborn.
I looked at him and sneered, “We wouldn’t hire someone who didn’t even finish high school as a secretary. You want ten grand for sleeping your way through the job? Sure, the massage parlor downstairs seems perfect for you.”
Hearing this, Owen Chambers first froze momentarily before his face turned crimson. He put on a pitiful act and said, “Julian Winslow, I was just trying to help your wife’s company since she can’t find anyone. How could you say such things to me?”
My aunt also frowned, her voice full of reproach: “Julian, after all I’ve done for you, I never thought you’d be such an ungrateful brat. You’re breaking my heart!”
I glared at Owen with undisguised hatred, wishing I could tear him apart.
In my previous life, out of family obligation, I had agreed to Owen’s request and let him become my wife’s secretary. He then abused this family connection, misappropriating company funds for luxury items and committing business fraud using my name. When everything came to light, I became the target of everyone’s anger, eventually committing suicide from depression.
Back in the present, I kicked the chair in front of me and said bluntly, “With your qualifications, you’re not even worthy of being my wife’s secretary. You should go work in a factory instead.”
“Julian!” Owen jumped up, pointing at me furiously. “I’m your cousin! How dare you refuse to help me?”
I found his reaction amusing and countered, “Weren’t you saying you were helping me earlier? How did it suddenly become me refusing to help you?”
Owen was instantly speechless, stammering without forming a coherent response.
Seeing this, other relatives began criticizing me: “Julian, how can you talk like that? Your cousin has always been well-behaved in our village. I think this job is perfect for him.”
“Exactly! Are you jealous that your cousin is better-looking and afraid he’ll steal your spotlight?”
“Owen this child, I’ve watched him grow up since he was little. He’s reliable.”
Hearing these comments, my heart grew cold.
Thinking about it carefully, since marrying Mia Hayes and moving to the city over many holidays, I’ve never been stingy with them. During festive seasons like Chinese New Year, out of respect for my deceased parents, I always gave them generous red envelopes as a sign of filial piety, and occasionally invited them to dinner at our home.
But why? I had no obligation to do what they were asking today, yet they were all ganging up with Owen to manipulate me. Was it because Owen’s grandfather was the village head, and they wanted to curry favor with his family?
I put down my chopsticks and plate, saying coldly, “Is that so? If he’s so great, why don’t you give him your own jobs?”
Everyone’s faces turned ashen upon hearing this.
Just then, my wife Mia returned from work.
Seeing her, Owen casually flashed the expensive watch on his wrist and approached her: “Sister-in-law! Didn’t you promise me on the phone that I could be your secretary? Why is Julian disagreeing now?”
Mia looked at me in confusion, then after a moment asked, “Honey, what’s going on? I thought you’d agree too, since he’s your cousin…”
I cut her off without hesitation: “I disagree.”
Hearing this, Mia quickly withdrew her hand from Owen’s vicinity and said, “I always listen to my husband. If he disagrees, then it’s off.”
My aunt’s face darkened as she remarked with that toxic mix of fake sweetness and passive-aggression: “Some CEO you are, still afraid of your husband at home. What a shame, especially when your husband is such a nobody.”
As Mia was about to retort, I jumped in: “Aunt, if your family is so capable, why haven’t I seen you doing well? By the way, didn’t Uncle marry into your family? Yet I heard he’s disappeared after racking up gambling debts!”
Furious and embarrassed, my aunt smashed her coffee cup violently on the floor: “Julian! I only came to see you out of kindness because your parents died young. Do you think I really wanted to come? If you weren’t lucky enough to marry Mia, this rich heiress, you’d be living far worse than my Owen!”
Hearing this, everyone nodded thoughtfully: “That’s right. Becoming a rich family’s son-in-law has made him arrogant. He’s forgotten gratitude and filial piety…”
“Refusing to help his own cousin with such a small favor is simply unconscionable!”
Rich family’s son-in-law…
Why do so many people think Mia is some rich heiress?
Do they truly not know that Mia’s success today is entirely because of me?
Seeing the displeasure on my face, Mia’s expression darkened as well. “The hiring standards at my company have always been my husband’s call. Let’s end this discussion here. If he says no hiring, then no hiring.”
Owen refused to back down, glaring at me fiercely while putting on an air of nonchalance. “What standards? Anything he can do, I can do too! I can do so much more!”
As he spoke, he deliberately tugged at his collar and twirled his finger around a strand of Mia’s hair, his eyes fixed intently on her as his tone grew increasingly flirtatious. “Sister-in-law, how would you know I’m not capable unless you give me a chance?”
Owen’s intentions were obvious to anyone with eyes.
I just hadn’t expected that in this lifetime, having failed to secure the secretary position at Mia’s company, he would already be setting his sights on seducing her.
The audacity to flirt with a married woman right in front of me—he was certainly bold.
I didn’t get angry, though. I simply leaned back in my chair and said with a cold smile, “Cousin, if you’re looking for quick money, try a hair salon with ‘special services.’ This is my home, not a place for you to flaunt yourself.”
Seeing the situation, Mia rubbed her temples and said, “My company really isn’t hiring. You should leave.”
To my surprise, Owen’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears, his voice trembling, “It’s precisely because I’m good-looking that my previous boss grew jealous and fired me. With the New Year holiday approaching, losing my job so suddenly has me desperate, which is why I came to you for help.”
My aunt quickly grabbed Owen’s hand, her face full of sympathy. She cast a sidelong glance at me and said with a deliberately spiteful tone, switching between submissive and aggressive energies, “Our Owen has always been handsome since childhood. It’s normal for some people to be jealous—it just shows how insecure they are!”
I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “You keep saying I’m jealous of you, but who came asking for my help today? Wasn’t it you?”
Feeling increasingly irritated, I stood up and announced to everyone, “That’s enough for today. Please see yourselves out.”
Some of the older relatives mumbled under their breath, others grabbed takeout containers and started packing up food, while one angrily threw his fork to the ground, exclaiming, “This is outrageous! How could George Sterling have raised such an ungrateful wolf-hearted son! He has absolutely no respect for his elders!”
“It must be because George died early that he turned out so ill-mannered!”
Trembling with anger, I pointed at the speaker and shouted, “Is that so? Then from now on, I won’t be sending any of you holiday gifts! You can all just consider me the ungrateful wolf you think I am!”
At the mention of no more gifts, everyone exchanged glances before quickly putting on smiles. “Julian, we didn’t mean it that way. We only speak to you like this because we consider you our own son!”
I couldn’t be bothered with their explanations and directly ordered the bodyguard standing outside, “Show them out!”
The bodyguard, seeing me this angry for the first time, looked somewhat shocked.
The relatives were escorted out rather unceremoniously.
Only my aunt and Owen remained standing there, motionless, but I had no desire to engage with them further.
As I turned to go upstairs, my aunt grabbed my arm. “Julian, you’re just leaving like this? Aren’t you going to arrange a room for us?”
Only then did I remember that before their arrival, they had mentioned wanting to stay at my place temporarily.
Back then, before my rebirth, I had indeed agreed.
Taking a deep breath, I pointed toward the kitchen area and said, “Mrs. Liang and Driver Song are on holiday for the Spring Festival, so you can stay in the staff quarters for now. I’m giving you two days to find a new place and move out.”
Owen’s eyes widened in disgust. “In a mansion this big, you’re making us stay in the housekeepers’ rooms? Julian, we’re your relatives, not your servants! You’re humiliating us!”
I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at him. “So, you don’t want to stay? That’s fine then. Don’t let me keep you.”
Owen cursed under his breath, then picked up his various bags and stomped off toward the staff quarters in a huff.
A moment later, Mia handed me a glass of warm water, gently massaging my shoulders while comforting me softly, “Let it go, honey. It’s not a big deal, no need to get so upset. Don’t make yourself sick over this.”
I nodded, patting the back of her hand lightly, about to tell her that our embryos at the hospital were ready for implantation.
Suddenly, Owen stormed out with a sullen face, grabbing Mia’s arm without hesitation. “Sister-in-law, why isn’t there any hot water in the bathroom?”
Mia glanced at me uncomfortably, gently pulling her arm away. “That can’t be right. Why don’t you try again?”
Owen persisted, shaking her arm while completely ignoring my presence. “I can handle the cold, but my mother is getting on in years. What if she catches a chill?”
I felt sick with anger and was about to tell him to get out if he didn’t like it here, but Mia stood up and said, “Honey, I’ll go check. I’ll be right back.”
Mia had always been gentle with everyone, including my relatives. I didn’t think much of it, but something felt off, so I quietly followed her.
Through the crack in the door, I saw Owen—who had been wearing a shirt moments ago—now bare-chested, showing off his abs, with his face pressed close to Mia’s. “I really envy Julian for having such a wonderful wife after dating so many women. You know, Julian didn’t always look like this. I used to tell him to stop getting cosmetic surgery, but he never listened…”
Rage instantly boiled inside me as I prepared to burst in and confront him about his lies.
Then I noticed Mia staring at Owen’s exposed chest, her eyes unblinking.
Owen fiddled with the water heater switch while gazing at her tenderly. “Sister-in-law, I’m not lying about Julian. All the girls in the village said so—that he used to play around with girls, you know… that kind of thing. I don’t mean anything by it, just wanted to warn you to keep an eye out. Wouldn’t want you to be cheated on without even knowing it.”
I couldn’t take it anymore and shoved the door open.
Mia jumped, her eyes darting away from mine guiltily.
Owen put on a show of being “startled” as he looked at me. “Julian, what are you doing? You scared me half to death!”
I didn’t bother arguing with him. I walked straight to his suitcase, grabbed it, and slammed it onto the floor.
A loud crash echoed as the contents scattered everywhere.
Pointing at the door, I roared, “No need for a shower now. Get out!”
My aunt, hearing the commotion, rushed in with fury written all over her face. “Julian! What did you just say?! I’m your aunt—how dare you throw us out?!”
Owen defended himself, neck stiff with defiance. “Mom, I don’t know what’s gotten into him, he suddenly just…”
Seeing the situation escalate, Mia stammered, “Um, honey, it’s too late now. Maybe we should just let it go.”
I shot her a fierce glare, and she immediately fell silent.
Pointing at Owen, I shouted, “Let it go? He comes into my home and slanders me, and you want me to let it go?”
Owen’s eyes reddened as he stepped forward to explain, accidentally hitting the hot water switch. Hot water suddenly drenched Mia.
Mia screamed and fell into Owen’s arms. He seized the opportunity to hold her while continuing his explanation. “Sister-in-law, everything I said is true! If you don’t believe me, ask anyone in the village! It’s all in the past, but Julian seems to still be sensitive about it.”
Mia looked at me, quickly breaking free from Owen’s embrace to stand behind me, then coldly said, “You should leave.”
Owen’s face filled with disbelief. “Sister-in-law… you…”
My aunt cursed under her breath while gathering their scattered belongings, forcefully pulling Owen up. “Fine, we’ll go! When we get back to the village, I’ll tell everyone how Julian treated us!”
After they left, I finally had a moment of peace.
I thought that by refusing Owen’s request after my rebirth, I’d avoid all those heartbreaking events.
But a few days later, while at the hospital consulting about embryo implantation, I ran into Oliver, the HR manager from Mia’s company.
Oliver looked exhausted, complaining to someone on the phone. “I’m telling you, our Ms. Hayes is unbelievable! She hired some secretary from who knows where, lazy as hell, making me pick up his medical report!”
I deliberately bumped into him, causing the medical reports to scatter on the floor.
One name immediately caught my eye—Owen…
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At the family recognition banquet, the fake young master jumped from upstairs.
From then on, my sister harbored resentment toward me for a full decade, and my fiancée Sophie Sheridan went even further, treating me as her mortal enemy.
She pretended to marry me, but on our wedding night, she had people break my limbs and locked me in the basement.
For ten long years, I lived like a dog begging for mercy, struggling desperately to survive, unable to die.
Finally, when I found a chance to escape and return to the Clarke family for help, my parents refused to open the door.
“The Clarke family has only one son, and that’s Quentin Clarke.”
When my fiancée came looking for me, my sister dragged me before her like a dead dog.
Everyone regretted recognizing me as part of the Clarke family, and I felt the same way.
In the end, I jumped from the rooftop, only to find myself back a decade earlier.
This time, I decided to return the title of Clarke family heir to Quentin, to satisfy them all.
…
“Tell Quentin to stop being childish. Even if Gavin Clarke has returned to the Clarke family, he’ll still be the second young master of the Clarke family.”
That cold voice rang out again, cutting through my ears like a blade.
I snapped back to reality, staring intently at myself in the mirror.
A younger face, a burgundy suit, and features not yet ravaged by time.
I really had returned to a decade ago.
Back to the recognition banquet that altered my fate forever.
In my previous life, Quentin threatened suicide at this banquet, forcing the Clarke family to choose between us.
Everyone thought he was merely throwing a tantrum, even Vanessa Clarke was coldly dismissive toward him.
Only after he actually died did they feel bitter remorse.
And I, I became the target of their guilt, cast out of the Clarke family with nowhere to turn.
When I was living on the streets, Sophie, who had returned from studying abroad, took me in.
She said that even though the recognition ceremony hadn’t been completed, she still acknowledged me as her fiancé, and we should get married.
Deeply moved by her seeming devotion, I accepted her proposal.
Little did I know that she tricked me into marriage solely to torture me, to avenge Quentin.
On our wedding night, when I was full of anticipation, she broke my limbs and locked me in the basement, forcing me to live like a dog begging for mercy.
Ten years. For a full decade, I struggled desperately to survive in that dark basement, unable to find release in death.
Whenever I felt close to liberation, she would send people to heal me, only to continue the torture afterward.
Until one time, I managed to escape and returned to the Clarke family for help.
I believed they would save me because of our blood ties, but instead, they heartlessly shut me out.
Yet they were the ones who posted missing person notices everywhere, insisting on recognizing me as their son. What crime had I committed?
I gazed at my reflection with icy contempt, making a solemn vow in my heart.
This time around, I would never acknowledge this family or these people—not ever!
I forcefully suppressed the raging fury within me and smiled at Vanessa, “Vanessa, please cancel the recognition banquet and go comfort Quentin first.”
Vanessa frowned, clearly surprised by my suggestion. “Gavin, the guests have all arrived. If we cancel now, what will people think of you? Of our Clarke family’s reputation?”
I took a deep breath, keeping my tone deliberately gentle: “Compared to a human life, what does reputation matter? Besides, as long as you recognize me, I don’t care what others think of me.”
Vanessa seemed touched by my “understanding,” a flash of appreciation crossing her eyes.
She nodded and said, “Alright, I’ll check on Quentin first. You accompany Mom and Dad to appease the guests.”
I smiled slightly, watching her leave, while inwardly sneering with contempt.
After Vanessa left, I accompanied my parents in the banquet hall, apologizing to the guests.
Though everyone looked at me with strange, scrutinizing gazes, I maintained a polite smile throughout.
Just as the guests were preparing to leave, the doors to the banquet hall suddenly burst open.
Quentin, wearing the same burgundy suit as mine, slowly walked in.
The moment he appeared, all eyes turned to him. Guests whispered among themselves, their gazes shifting between him and me.
Quentin lifted his chin, his eyes filled with challenge: “Everyone, today’s banquet will continue, but it’s not a recognition banquet—it’s my birthday celebration.”
I fixed him with an icy stare, my heart as calm as still water.
In my previous life, I might have felt angry or wronged, but now, I no longer cared about any of this—not in the slightest.
Vanessa approached at that moment, her tone brooking no refusal.
“Gavin, let Quentin have his birthday celebration first. We’ll hold your recognition banquet afterward.”
Mom and Dad didn’t look pleased. Clearly, they were unhappy with Vanessa’s last-minute change of plans.
Just as Mom was about to intervene, Quentin stepped forward, his voice dripping with feigned hurt.
“Mom, it’s my birthday today. Don’t you want to celebrate with me? Gavin won’t mind, right?”
As he spoke, he shot me a challenging look, a smug smile playing at the corners of his lips.
Dad frowned, seemingly wanting to say something, but Quentin wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Dad, please say yes, won’t you?”
Dad sighed and ultimately remained silent.
Mom shook her head resignedly, gently patting Quentin’s hand. “Alright, alright, whatever you want.”
Watching this scene unfold, I laughed bitterly to myself.
Of course, Quentin would always be their precious darling, while I was nothing more than an insignificant outsider.
The guests in the banquet hall awkwardly returned to their seats, their gazes darting between Quentin and me.
Sophie’s parents sat at the main table, their expressions dark with disapproval, clearly dissatisfied with my standing in the Clarke family.
Mrs. Sheridan whispered to Mr. Sheridan, “What use is marrying a man like him? He can’t even control a simple banquet. How embarrassing.”
I stood among the guests with a faint smile, letting their pointing and whispering wash over me.
I’d already decided to leave, so their opinions and gossip meant nothing to me anymore.
After the banquet, I voluntarily escorted Sophie’s parents to their car.
Mrs. Sheridan gave me a cold glance, making no effort to hide her disdain.
I smiled slightly and said calmly, “Auntie, I think we should cancel my engagement to Sophie. Why not let her be with Quentin instead? What do you think?”
Mrs. Sheridan froze for a moment before her eyes lit up with delight. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “Of course. Quentin and Sophie are perfect for each other.”
Mr. Sheridan’s face broke into a satisfied smile. “Gavin, it’s very considerate of you to think this way. The Sheridan family will remember your kindness.”
I smiled faintly without saying more.
As I watched their car drive away and turned to head home, a black Maybach blocked my path.
The door opened, and Sophie stepped out, marching toward me with a dark expression.
She grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, nearly crushing my bones. “Gavin, what are you plotting now?”
I frowned, trying to break free from her grip, but she held on tightly.
Looking up at her, I said with a hint of mockery, “Sophie, what do you mean? I’m just trying to help you and Quentin be together. Aren’t you happy about that?”
Sophie paused, seemingly caught off guard by my response.
A complex emotion flashed in her eyes as her voice softened. “Why would you…”
Before she could finish, a voice calling “Sophie” interrupted her.
Quentin had appeared out of nowhere.
Seeing Sophie holding my hand, his eyes immediately reddened. “Sophie… how could you do this to me?”
With that, he turned to leave.
Sophie instantly released my hand and chased after him without a second thought, not even sparing me another glance.
Standing alone, I rubbed my reddened wrist and smirked coldly.
Whether in my past life or this one, Sophie only had eyes for Quentin.
That night, I began packing my bags.
Since there was no place for me in the Clarke family anymore, why should I stay?
Halfway through packing, my door suddenly burst open.
Vanessa rushed in, her face ashen. “Gavin, Quentin’s condition has relapsed. He’s collapsed!”
I looked up at her coldly. “And? What does that have to do with me?”
“If you hadn’t been messing around with Sophie, Quentin wouldn’t have gotten so upset and fallen ill!”
Vanessa’s voice trembled with suppressed rage.
“The doctor says Quentin’s liver is failing. He needs an immediate transplant. And you’re the only compatible donor.”
I paused, then let out a cold laugh. “So, you want me to donate part of my liver to him?”
Vanessa didn’t answer, but her eyes said it all.
I stood up, looking directly into her eyes. “Vanessa, what makes you think I would agree to this?”
Her expression darkened further as she stepped forward, her words laced with threat. “Don’t make me force you, Gavin. Quentin is our brother. You can’t just let him die!”
I stepped back, my heart turning to ice.
Mom and Dad arrived at that moment. I turned to them, trembling. “Dad, Mom, is this what you want too?”
Mom lowered her head, avoiding my gaze. “Gavin, we love both of you equally. Quentin is our child too. Please save him. The doctor said most donors can regenerate their liver after partial removal. You’ll be fine.”
I laughed bitterly, my eyes filled with despair. “What if I’m in that small minority? What if I die? Would you even care?”
Dad remained silent for a moment before sighing. “Gavin, stop being difficult. This is for Quentin, and for the Clarke family.”
My heart shattered completely. I closed my eyes. Even in this second life, hearing such words from my birth parents still cut deep.
Vanessa didn’t give me a chance to resist.
She pulled out a syringe and unhesitatingly plunged it into my arm.
A cold liquid flowed into my veins as my consciousness began to fade.
When I woke up again, I was lying in a pristine hospital room, surrounded by the smell of disinfectant.
The harsh masculine energy of sunlight pierced through the curtains, making my eyes sting painfully.
I turned my head slightly and saw Sophie sitting by my bed, her head propped up, eyes closed as if pretending to sleep.
Her delicate features remained strikingly beautiful, but I felt nothing but nausea.
Seemingly sensing my movement, she slowly opened her eyes, her gaze falling on my face. “Gavin, you’re awake.”
I didn’t speak, just stared at her coldly.
She continued talking as if to herself: “You saved Quentin, so I’ll honor our engagement and marry you officially, letting you be my husband in name. But before that, I want to give Quentin a grand wedding, so everyone knows he’s the one I truly love.”
I let out a cold laugh, my voice hoarse and mocking: “Don’t bother. Just marry Quentin directly.”
Sophie frowned, grabbing my hand with a hint of urgency in her voice: “Gavin, don’t be stubborn. I know you both love and fear me, but since Quentin is fine now, I’ll treat you well too.”
A shock ran through my entire body as I violently yanked my hand away from hers.
So she had been reborn too.
My emotions completely exploded: “Sophie, don’t flatter yourself! I feel nothing but hatred for you, not love!”
Sophie’s face instantly turned deathly pale, she opened her mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but was interrupted by a sudden shout from outside.
Vanessa burst in, her face excited: “Sophie, Quentin is awake!”
Sophie immediately stood up and rushed out without a moment’s hesitation.
She moved so hastily that she ripped the IV needle from the back of my hand, causing blood to gush out immediately.
Vanessa glanced at me, her tone cold and dismissive: “Gavin, stop being difficult. Quentin just woke up and needs care.”
With that, she followed Sophie out of the room.
The door slammed shut heavily, but it couldn’t block out the sounds of joy and laughter from outside.
I lay alone in bed, my heart filled with nothing but endless grief.
Perhaps out of guilt, they arranged the most expensive VIP room for me.
Within seven days, I was discharged.
Meanwhile, Quentin and Sophie’s wedding was already being planned.
They decided to hold a grand beach wedding at the Clarke family’s seaside villa.
On the wedding day, the beach was bustling with activity.
Guests in elegant attire moved about, smiling and congratulating the couple.
I stood on a distant rock, turned, and jumped into the churning sea.
Quentin, dressed in a white suit, walked in holding Sophie’s hand.
He looked around deliberately and asked, “Where’s Brother Gavin? Why isn’t he here yet? He’s not still upset with me, is he?”
My parents joined in the criticism: “That boy Gavin is so inconsiderate. Today is Quentin’s big day, how can he be so selfish?”
Vanessa frowned impatiently: “I’ll go find him.”
Just then, someone suddenly shouted: “Something’s wrong! Someone jumped into the sea!”
Sophie and Vanessa both paled instantly and rushed toward the shore.
On the rocks by the sea lay a black diamond brooch, starkly visible against the white stone.
Sophie picked up the brooch with trembling hands, her voice hoarse and desperate: “It’s Gavin… this is Gavin’s brooch!”
She rushed to the water’s edge, staggering as waves crashed against her, shouting toward the vast expanse of the sea: “Gavin! Gavin!”
Quentin followed, his face filled with panic: “Sophie, Gavin… how could he…”
Sophie ignored him, just staring fixedly at the turbulent waters, her eyes full of regret and pain.
Vanessa stood nearby, her face ashen: “How… how could this happen…”
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The Old Alpha Nathan of the Moon Eclipse Pack announced:
Whoever gives birth to the Alpha family’s first heir—my sister or me—will inherit the Hunter Group’s billion-dollar fortune and ascend as Luna.
In our previous life, my sister and I were offered to our Alpha’s family as Breeders, destined to produce their first heir.
Under our parents’ arrangement, my sister, Jocelyn Foster, married the physically strong Hector Hunter, the second grandson of Nathan.
I was given to Oliver Hunter, the first grandson of the Alpha, who was wheelchair-bound with a gloomy personality. A year later, Oliver regained the use of his legs, and I became pregnant with the first heir of the Pack.
Jocelyn suffered abuse from Hector, lost her mind, and became the laughingstock of the entire pack.
On the day I went into labor, she stabbed my belly with a knife, then embraced me as we fell from a high-rise.
But the Moon Goddess wasn’t done with us—she gave us both a second chance.
In this new life, Jocelyn snatched the golden bouquet Oliver had sent.
“I want to marry Oliver!”
****
“Jocelyn! How could you take Yvonne’s bouquet?”
Jocelyn had just taken hold of the extravagant golden bouquet when father’s scolding froze her in place.
Without hesitation, he grabbed the bouquet from her hands and placed it into mine instead.
“Yvonne, you’ve always worked hard, and your wolf is strong. Though Oliver has a disability, at least his reputation is good.”
Then, he turned and stroked Jocelyn’s head affectionately.
“Jocelyn, be good, with your fragile health, marrying Hector is the best option.”
As I stared at the golden bouquet and the wedding gown, I dug my nails into my palm until I felt pain. Only then did I realize—I had been reborn.
My wolf Aria was furious the moment she sensed father’s blatant favoritism. She paced restlessly inside me, snarling and clawing to break free, desperate to confront him, to demand fairness.
But I held her back, gently soothing her rage.
“Calm down, Aria, now wasn’t the time.”
In my previous life, following my parents’ wishes, I let the frail Jocelyn marry the physically robust Hector. However, the outcome was Jocelyn, seemingly insane, bursting into my delivery room with a knife, screaming, “Why are you the one to bear the Hunter family’s first heir while I’m cast out as a Rogue?!””
“It’s not fair!”
Blood poured from my wounds as she dragged me off the high-rise, Jocelyn’s voice still echoed in my ears.
“Yvonne, you were born to be beneath my feet.”
Now, in this life, Jocelyn snatched the golden bouquet back once again, fingering the gold-threaded petals with a smirk.
“Dad, I don’t care. I’m marrying Oliver.”
Her wolf stared at me with those sharp eyes, burning with the desire to win.
And in that instant, I knew Jocelyn had been reborn too.
My parents, unable to persuade Jocelyn, looked at me helplessly.
I knew that look all too well.
I had seen it all my life.
Ever since we were pups, I was never allowed to outshine my sister.
I could never outperform my sister in the Pack’s training assessments.
Even though I shifted earlier, even though my wolf was stronger,
Even though I completed the university-level medical curriculum through self-study and earned my medical license.
While Jocelyn remained a weak, unmotivated Omega.
Our parents’ favor always belonged to her.
Even when it came to this—
Being used as vessels to bear heirs for the Alpha bloodline—
They were eager to hand her over to Hector, the more vigorous, healthier husband.
“If Jocelyn wants it, then switch,” they said.
“After all, the old Alpha only cares about who can produce the first heir.”
As always, I maintained my composure and calmly accepted the bouquet of gardenias sent by Hector’s attendants.
Two cars waited outside.
One was a black obsidian Rolls-Royce sent by Oliver, its path paved with a carpet of maple leaves and white roses, radiating the noble dominance of pure Alpha blood.
The other was a modified off-road vehicle sent by Hector—plain in appearance, with nothing but a silver emblem hanging from the rearview mirror, a symbol of the Hunter family’s group.
Before donning our veils and heading to our respective wedding cars, Jocelyn looked at my bouquet and shook her head disdainfully.
“Sis, don’t say I didn’t warn you. That Hector may look strong, but I’ve heard he’s inadequate in bed. And, He’ll never become an Alpha. Oliver is the true Alpha—Look at this bouquet made of pure gold, and that exquisite scent… it even triggered my wolf.”
With that, Jocelyn lowered her head and took a deep, satisfied breath of the flowers’ fragrance.
Under the envious gazes of the Pack members, she held her head high and strode forward onto the carpeted path of glory.
I took a step back, holding my breath.
“Well then…My dear sister, may you get what you want.”
After safely getting into the car, I carefully examined the bouquet in my hands, “Safe. No threat,” Aria whispered through mind-link, then I finally allowed myself to relax.
In my previous life, the golden bouquet Oliver sent was indeed extravagant, but it had almost cost me my life.
Oliver never had any intention of marrying me. He had mixed perfume into that bouquet—a fragrance designed to trigger werewolves’ heat. He also arranged for me to be delivered to a Slave, ordering that beast to take my virginity, attempting to ruin my reputation and thereby legitimately break off our engagement.
But he never thought I was a doctor always in the habit of carrying a scalpe. My wolf, Aria, fought the slave in a desperate battle, and managed to bring him down. And that’s why I escaped unharmed.
So, Oliver allowed me to bear his child finally, cuz I showed him I was strong enough to be his Luna.
Now, in this second life, let’s see if my delicate, pampered little sister Jocelyn can survive the same ordeal.
****
Just as I stepped out of the wedding car, I felt a sudden grip around my waist.
A man lifted me up and quickly carried me into the bridal chamber.
Laughter and teasing erupted from outside: “Impressive! Let us see what this Omega looks like!”
Through the thin veil, I could only vaguely make out the man in front of me wearing a white suit.
A lewd smile spread across his face as he reached out to lift my veil.
I moved swiftly, quickly grabbing his hand while lifting my veil faster than he could.
“You’re not Hector.”
My voice was firm as my sharp gaze swept across the pack members present.
Everyone’s expression suddenly changed.
The man before me didn’t give a damn who was watching, he actually tried to forcefully mark me, right here.
“Son of bitch!” Aria’s growl rumbled low in my chest.
Without hesitation, I slammed the bouquet into his face and drew the scalpel I had prepared, slashing it across his cheek without mercy.
Blood splattered as the man screamed.
“What an entertaining show.”
A deep voice broke the silence.
Accompanied by a round of applause, a man in a white suit with a petite She-wolf in his arms emerged from behind the door.
He walked over and sat down on the sofa across from me, his Alpha aura washing over me in waves.
Muscles rippled beneath the fabric of his tailored sleeve, powerful yet restrained.
One brow arched, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Quite ruthless, aren’t you?”
I lifted my chin, locking eyes with him, unflinching, without an ounce of the submission.
“You’re not bad yourself.”
Looking at how he deliberately loosened his shirt to expose his toned abs, paired with his rebellious demeanor.
Aha, so this man was Hector, my husband in this life.
In my previous life, I had seen him a few times at Hunter family gatherings. He always presented himself as a playboy like this, tangling up with slutty she-wolves in the pack.
But I never expected this wedding to be so absurd.
“Hector, you’re not seriously going to marry this Omega, are you?”
I looked up at the voice and saw the petite she-wolf nestled in his arms.
Hector didn’t respond but instead pinched her waist, making her cry out coquettishly, “You’re so bad!”
The two continued their flirting, as if no one else were around.
I let out a contemptuous laugh, looking directly at Hector as I revealed my true intentions.
“How about we make a deal?”
“You? What could you offer?”
Hector lazily raised his eyes, seemingly uninterested in what I had to say.
I wasn’t bothered by this. In the eyes of werewolf aristocrats like them, weak wolves like us were merely tools for reproduction.
Whether it was marrying Oliver or Hector, I was done living a life where I had no control, no dignity, and no safety.
Ignoring his contempt, I extended my hand, pointing from his head downward until I reached the middle of his pants.
“I’m offering a deal involving this part of you.”
Those werewolves around wanted to laugh but dared not make a sound.
Hector finally dropped his arrogant, unruly demeanor. His face darkened as he ordered everyone out.
As soon as the door closed, he extinguished the cigarette in his hand.
Moving close to me, he roughly grabbed my chin:
“Yvonne, you should assess your own abilities and status before you open that mouth.”
He forced me back step by step until I hit the cold wall behind me. A sharp pain shot through my back.
“Come on, It’s just erectile dysfunction, no need to mad at me, huh？” I muttered, turning my head away, trying to break free from his grip.
He said nothing, just leaned in closer, eyes burning with barely restrained fury.
I clenched my teeth, instinctively calling out to Aria, ready to shift to clash with him. But just as Aria was about to leap out and fight with all her might, something unexpected happened.
Through the crimson glow in Hector’s eyes, we both caught a glimpse of a silver-gray wolf curled up on the ground, strange black markings spreading across its body like a poisonous vine.
His wolf… was asleep.
“It’s still alive, but it’s been suppressed for far too long,” Aria’s voice echoed in my mind.
My pupils contracted. Could it be… the rumors from the previous life weren’t the whole truth?
No time to think further—I looked up and met Hector’s cold, shadowed gaze.
“What did you see?” he asked in a hoarse voice.
I stared at him blankly and blurted out, “How could your wolf—”
Before I could finish, Hector’s expression shifted, his arrogant facade crumbling. His wolf, seemingly stirred by our discovery, let out a faint, raspy growl from its slumber.
Suddenly, his hand shot out, clutching my throat as he yanked me toward him. I nearly slammed into his chest.
Forced to tilt my head back, my breath almost brushed against the tip of his nose.
“Your wolf was poisoned by Wolfsbane,” I gasped. “I can heal him… and… cure your erectile dysfunction.”
Instead of easing, his expression darkened. His finger nails almost dug into my neck.
I could see the thought in his eyes: Rather than risk uncertain, unrealistic possibilities, better to silence you forever with this secret.
The pressure around my throat suddenly intensified—I was nearly lifted off the ground. My lungs burned, pain tearing through my chest. Desperately, I clutched his hand, lips trembling as I choked out broken words:
“Three days… just give me three days… you’ll see the first signs… cough…”
“If it doesn’t work… you can… deal with me then…”
Hector finally released his grip. In that brief minute, I thought I was going to die right there.
I dared to speak up because I was absolutely confident.
In my previous life, Oliver was even more difficult to handle than Hector. The only reason I stayed with him for so long was because I had value to him.
I’d been self-studying medical curriculum. This background served me well in my previous life. According to my parents’ wishes, I needed to be mindful of Jocelyn’s feelings and couldn’t outshine her in any aspect.
No one knew how skilled I really was. People only knew that I spent an entire year treating Oliver’s leg, which eventually helped him recover.
However, no one knew that Oliver also suffered from erectile dysfunction and his wolf was very weak, too.
I treated him for over a month before successfully conceived a child.
Thinking about this, I took several deep breaths, then began a full physical examination of Hector.
Fortunately, his condition was similar to Oliver’s—not difficult to treat.
“How did you know I had this condition?”
Confusion flashed in Hector’s eyes as he grabbed my hand.
I smiled and made up a lie: “Before marrying you, I had to learn something about my future husband, didn’t I?”
In truth, Hector’s erectile dysfunction was common knowledge in my previous life.
Back then, Jocelyn tried everything but could never arouse Hector’s interest.
She drugged him and called a private doctor to examine him. When Hector woke up, he flew into a rage. It must have been then that the doctor uncovered the truth: his wolf was trapped.
As for the rumors about his erectile dysfunction—those were only part of the truth.
After all, for an Alpha heir, having a dormant, weakened wolf was far more threatening than any loss of bedroom prowess. It wasn’t just a matter of pride—it was a matter of inheritance, even survival.
No wonder he later expelled Jocelyn out of the Moon Elicpse pack, leaving her to live as a Rogue.
Hearing my words, Hector’s pupils slightly contracted as he whispered to himself:
“After knowing all this, you still didn’t choose my older brother…”
Hector was more reasonable than I expected. I prescribed some medicine.
If the medicine worked, the price was that he would accompany me to attend my father’s birthday party three days later.
On the day of my father’s birthday, I waited for Hector outside, but he never showed up. After pondering for a moment, I got into the car alone and headed home.
As soon as I walked in, Jocelyn pointed at the room full of luxury gifts and said sweetly:
“Dad, Oliver and I picked this high-end wine for you, and this emerald necklace is for Mom.”
My parents were delighted by Jocelyn’s attention, their lips constantly upturned as they repeatedly said, “Oh my good pup…”
Seeing me arrive empty-handed, Jocelyn said sharply:
“Yvonne, your husband let you come alone?”
I smiled gently and replied, “Your husband didn’t accompany you either.”
Jocelyn pouted and showed off the large diamond ring on her finger. “You know nothing about this, silly. Oliver is the CEO of Hunter Group, of course he’s busy. Your husband? He just has shares but no real power.”
Through Jocelyn’s raised hand, I caught a glimpse of purple bruises peeking out from her sleeve.
Oliver was the type who looked flawless in public eyes. In my previous life, he was physically disabled with a gloomy, unpredictable personality.
Every night, he would beat me violently with various whips.
I endured his treatment for a long time, until his condition improved and he no longer tormented me.
Seeing how happy Jocelyn appeared now, I didn’t want to burst her bubble. I walked past her toward the bathroom.
Jocelyn, seeing that I continued to ignore her, hurriedly followed me.
“Yvonne, your husband didn’t prepare any gifts for dad, did he?”
Seeing that I maintained my indifferent attitude, her expression darkened. She threw the red wine in her hand at me.
But she lost her balance in her high heels and fell heavily to the ground.
Jocelyn cried out in pain, which brought my parents running. She immediately played the victim, trying as always to shift blame to me when she did something wrong.
“Dad, Yvonne tried to hurt me! She said she wanted me to damage my body so I could never bear the Hunter family’s first heir! Mom, she’s trying to harm me! Waaah!”
“Ugh, this again. Ew…”Aria groaned, rolling her eyes to her brain.
I was about to defend myself.
After hearing just a few sentences from Jocelyn, my father glared at me angrily and raised his hand to slap me.
“Not only did you come without your husband on my birthday, but you didn’t even bring gifts. And now you’re jealous of Jocelyn!”
“What kind of thoughts are you harboring?!”
In the next moment, someone stepped in front of me.
“Who says I didn’t come?”
🌟 Continue the story here
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The pain rising in my belly radiates through my entire body as I fall. Tears flood my eyes — from the pain of betrayal from my only sister, who stabbed my unborn child and then pushed us both off the penthouse balcony. And from the wind tearing past our bodies as we plummet toward the pavement below.
Moon Goddess, save me!
I try to scream the words, but nothing comes out.
Jocelyn has her fingers wrapped around my throat. Her teeth snap scant inches from my face, and her hot breath reeks of fury. She’s half-changed from terror and rage, and her claws rake my skin, bringing more agony that I can only pray will be over soon…
The moment I die.
***
“Yvonne!”
My mother snaps her fingers in front of me until I focus on her face. She’s frowning at me, her disappointment spreading across her features like melting candle wax.
“Get yourself together, or I swear by the Moon, I will shackle you with silver myself!”
My wrists burn with the memories of silver cuffs that had kept me from reaching my wolf. My stomach lurches. The floor feels like it’s spinning right out from underneath me…like I’m falling from the top of a skyscraper.
Again, I clutch my stomach. My fingers slide across lace and brocade, and I stare in horror at my flat belly.
I know this white dress.
I know this bouquet of golden flowers I’m holding.
What I don’t know is…what happened to me?
Blinking, I look around the small room and try not to give away that I’m holding back a scream. I press my hand to my belly and swallow the burning taste of bile.
My pup…gone.
My previous life, also gone.
Stolen by my sister, who stands across the room in an identical white gown.
Oh, Goddess.
It’s our wedding day.
Again.
Jocelyn smirks at me from where she stands. She and Father are posing for photo after photo. His face is alight with pride — something he never shows when looking at me.
Mother’s lip curls into a deeper sneer as she sees me watching my sister and father.
“Stand up straight. You may never be as beautiful or as accomplished as your sister, but you still have a duty to represent the River Gorge Pack. Believe me, none of us are happy about you having any piece of your sister’s glorious day, but it can’t be helped. The Forest Green Pack is the most prestigious and wealthy pack in the entire wolven world, and I won’t allow you to ruin it for Jocelyn!”
“I wouldn’t —”
In a flash, Mother’s red-tipped nails slash toward my face. She pulls the slap at the very last second.
Even she would be too embarrassed to have her daughter show up to the joint wedding bearing the marks of a beating.
Instead, she straightens her shoulders and puts on a forced smile as she smooths her simple, navy-blue gown. In my memories, the hem of it glittered with sapphires and rubies that had been sewn into the fabric to represent the swirling waters of the Red River from which our pack takes its name.
In this reality, the bottom of Mother’s dress flutters with golden fringes, instead.
This reality… I think as she grabs me by the elbow, pinching my flesh in a place no bruises will show.
What does “this reality” mean?
I send up another plea to the Moon Goddess. Not that I expect an answer or anything. She’s never bothered much with me, the second-born and less desirable child. I try anyway, desperate to understand why my head is filling and swimming with these visions of my sister holding her razor-sharp claws to my throat, then slashing my pregnant belly, and finally, shoving me over the edge of the balcony. Her sleeve had snagged on my bracelet, yanking her along with me, and so we’d both fallen…fallen…
I jerk upright as Mother pinches me again.
I’m not losing my mind. Those visions aren’t my imagination. I know it. I feel it.
I was forced into this marriage of convenience and tempted with the promise of millions if I was the first to deliver a pup to fulfill Nathan Hunter’s wishes for his bloodline to continue through his grandsons. Hector and Oliver had agreed to marry me and my sister, and neither one of them had been any happier about the mating than I was.
Joceyln, on the other hand, had been overjoyed. At least until she—
“Yvonne, when will you learn? You’re only fit to be beneath my feet.” Jocelyn says this with the same smug nastiness she’s used to speak to me for most of my life.
My sister’s hateful attitude doesn’t surprise me, but I am shocked when she reaches over and yanks the golden bouquet out of my numb fingers. She clutches it to herself, and her beautiful face goes dark with grim determination. Her eyes bore into mine, flashing faintly green as her wolf rises to threaten mine.
“Girls, girls,” Father says. “You can have your little tiff later. Your mates will be here any minute —”
“Father, I want to marry Oliver. Not Hector.” Jocelyn lifts her chin and stares down her nose at me with a sly grin.
Mother and Father share a look, but I already know they’ll give her anything she wants, the same way they always have. For our entire lives, no matter what I had, if my sister wanted it, I had to give it up. This won’t be any different.
“Jocie, sweetheart… Hector is the more suitable —”
“I want. To marry. Oliver,” my sister says with a flash of sharpening teeth.
That’s when I see it. That’s when I understand. My body runs cold, and my wolf paces, whining, trying to protect me…but she can’t this time any more than she could the last…
Because Jocelyn has been reborn, too.
In my previous life, the one that keeps battering my mind, I had been the one to marry Oliver. The younger brother, the one who’d been injured in an attack during a pack war. Jocelyn had, of course, been given to the Forest Green Pack’s Alpha heir, Hector. In the eyes of my parents, and the elders of both packs, the delicate and beloved Jocelyn had been the perfect match for the heir, while the second daughter, the leftover, had been fit enough for their second son.
That hadn’t gone as well as they’d all hoped.
Oliver and I had not loved each other — but we had become a surprisingly strong match. And I’d been the first to get pregnant. My pup would have been the coveted heir to the bloodline…
Until my sister, driven to madness with her jealousy, had ended us.
But how had we gotten to that point? More importantly, why was I being forced to relive this? My belly aches with the phantom pains from where her claws had torn me open. Every muscle in my body tenses as my bones recall being shattered.
“Yvonne won’t mind. Will you, dear sister?”
Jocelyn’s sickly sweet tone brings me back to myself. Staring in her cold gaze, I realize that she has no intention of reliving anything the way it had been the first time. Her goal is to change our outcomes.
“If Jocelyn would rather marry Oliver, than who am I to stand in her way?” I reply calmly. “After all, it’s not like the Forest Green Pack elders really care, so long as both packs honor the treaty. And, of course, so long as Nathan Hunter gets the grandson he desires.”
“Which will be mine,” my sister says through a clenched jaw. “I will be the one to have the pup Grandfather Hunter wants.”
The only reason why we’ve been chosen to carry the Hunter bloodline pups is because Father saved Nathan Hunter’s life in a freak accident. As his reward, Father negotiated this double wedding, securing our positions.
My sister’s nostrils flare, and her lip curls back to show the hint of her sharp teeth. She thinks she looks fierce, the fit mate to an Alpha, but I know that a true Luna never needs to use force to get her way.
True Luna?
My own thought shocks me. Marrying Oliver had meant I was never going to be the Luna, not unless Hector died, and his brother stepped into his place. If I marry Hector in this timeline, I will become the Luna of Forest Green Pack. I can’t believe my sister would give up the chance at that…
I look into her dark-brown eyes, so different in shape and color from mine. There’s nothing about us that hints that the two of us are sisters, less than a year apart. I was the mistake, the pup born out of a night of passion my parents, to this day, would probably prefer to forget.
Father had been scorned by his mistress. Mother had been out for revenge.
The result? A daughter no better than a spare, a reminder that their union might be unbreakable, but that even being mated couldn’t turn hate into love.
We both know why my sister’s forcing this change. Why she’s willing to forgo becoming the Luna of Forest Green Pack by marrying the “lesser” brother. And it has everything to do with the money that Nathan Hunter has promised to the she-wolf who bears the bloodline heir. With that much money, it won’t matter to Jocelyn if she’s not the Luna…it won’t even matter to her if I am.
Slowly, I bend to pick up the gardenia bouquet Hector had sent for his bride. My sister had thrown it to the floor, and I was lucky she hadn’t ground it into mush beneath her shoe. The flowers tremble a little in my grip as I lift them to my nose, breathing in their delicate floral scent.
“The cars are waiting outside,” Father says.
Mother scurries to the window and flutters her fingertips against her chest. “Oh, Jocelyn! Oliver has sent a Rolls-Royce!”
I look out the window. The car Hector sent is an ordinary sports car, no more special than the simple bouquet. He’s the Alpha heir. Of course he doesn’t feel the need to show off his wealth. I’m sure he doesn’t feel at all that he has to do anything special to convince his bride that becoming his mate is a privilege. Not the way Oliver does.
“I’m marrying Oliver,” Jocelyn grits out.
For a moment, my sister and I lock our gazes again.
She’s stealing Oliver the way she’s stolen everything else in my life. Our parents’ love and attention, to start. Any chance I had of being well-liked in school, since she’d started horrific rumors about me that had everyone turning away. And now, my intended mate.
“If that’s what you wish, dear sister, then I hope you get everything you deserve.”
I feel the serenity in my tight smile, and for second, my sister’s cruel smile falters. Her eyes narrow as she studies me. In our other life, she wasn’t able to get pregnant with Hector. We both know why.
But what my sister doesn’t know about that golden bouquet she’s clutching so triumphantly, is that it’s a trap…one she’s going to fall into, headfirst.
As I settle into the front passenger seat of the sports coupe, I carefully examine the bouquet of gardenias. To my relief, there’s nothing out of the ordinary about them. Simple flowers, tied with a neat but unornamented ribbon. The bouquet of premium roses dipped in 14-carat gold, on the other hand, is a beautiful but deadly gift.
For my entire life, I’d dreamed of being mated to a man who’d love me, care for me, protect me and our pups. I’d always assumed that my sister would be married off to someone to secure the alignment between our pack and another, more powerful one, but when it became clear that Nathan Hunter was insisting that both his eligible grandsons needed mates, my parents had gladly sold me off without a single care about what I wanted.
Oliver Hunter, like me, must have had his own dreams about who he’d be mated with…or that he’d never wanted to be mated at all. Since he wasn’t the Alpha heir, he’d wanted to live the playboy life, spending his money on travel, drugs, women…
There was even a rumor he’d taken up with human women, just so there’d be no chance that he’d ever have any pups of his own and couldn’t be forced into serving the Forest Green Pack and his brother as its Alpha.
Like me and my sister, the Hunter brothers didn’t get along.
When Nathan Hunter, their grandfather, threatened to cut him out of the family money and even expel him from the pack, Oliver had quickly stepped into line. At least on the surface. He’d agreed to marry me and take me as his bonded mate. He’d sent the impressive wedding gifts — the fancy car. The golden bouquet.
The poison.
He’d mixed a special perfume into the golden-dipped flowers — one designed to inflame. Arouse. But not so our wedding night would be full of passion.
No, he’d intended the bride who sniffed that aphrodisiac to be so aroused that she—as in me—couldn’t control herself. He’d also arranged for me to be taken immediately to a small, private room before the ceremony, where he’d also sent someone to seduce me.
Oliver hadn’t cared if my reputation was ruined. He had only wanted a legitimate reason to break off our engagement. To his dismay, my strong allergic reaction to the perfume had kept me from fully breathing it all in. Not even a powerful aphrodisiac could counteract the way my lungs had squeezed, my throat closing, as I sneezed and sneezed away the horrible perfume.
I’d fought off the seducer. Oliver had pretended that it had been a test of my loyalty.
Now, though, my sister is the one with the golden flowers and the perfume.
And she doesn’t have the same allergies that I have.
I watch out the window as the world passes by, faster and faster as the car drives me toward the place where I’ll have to take Hector Hunter as my husband and mate. I can’t hold back the laughter as I picture Jocelyn being caught in the compromising position, but the giggles fade into sad sighs as I realize that no matter how awful she’s always been to me, I can’t even wish the upcoming humiliation on her. Nobody deserves to be treated so poorly by someone who’s supposed to love them.
If there’s anyone in the world who knows that, it’s me.
The car pulls up in front of the Forest Green Packhouse. I have to open my own door, help myself out.
My intended mate hasn’t even bothered to greet me.
Well, I can’t let that bother me, can I? It’s not like I have any illusions about what all of this is. A show, a pact, a treaty.
The first time, I’d accepted everything, and look where it had ended up? I’m not going to be that naive this time. I’m ready for whatever happens next —
Except the enormous wolf that appears out of nowhere, snarling and snapping its jaws.
My own wolf rises to my defense, but I hold her back.
First of all, there’s no way I could ever fight this beast and win.
Second, I won’t risk ruining my wedding dress with my transformation, so that I’ll end up naked and humiliated in front of everyone, showing that I can’t be trusted to control myself.
And finally, the wolf is only herding me away from the car and into the house.
It nips at my heels, speeding me along. It forces me into an expensively furnished den— Oh, Goddess protect me. Is Hector trying to do the same thing his brother did to me the first time around?
The wolf transforms quickly into a huge, brawny man. A naked man. He puts his hands on his hips and grins at me lewdly as I do my best to back away without tripping on the hem of my long gown.
I turn away. The gardenia bouquet falls to the ground. I brace myself for the hands on my body, tearing at my gown, but all I feel is hot, wet breath on the back of my neck. Rough hands then grip my hips, sliding upward to cup my breasts through the satin and lace.
“What a pretty little present my Alpha has presented me with,” the man growls. His tongue slides against my ear, and I shudder.
Twisting, my claws out, I rake his cheek. Blood spatters, and he almost backhands me — but a voice stops him.
“Enough!”
The man in the white suit steps out from his hiding place. He sweeps me with his assessing glare, then smiles grimly.
It’s Hector.
It’s too much to hope that he’s there to save me.
He dismisses his Beta with a wave of his hand and takes a seat on the sofa. He crosses one leg neatly, making sure to tug his white trousers to keep them from snagging.
My heart pounds. I can smell him — the woodsy, sharp scent of Alpha male. My nipples peak despite myself. We might not be mate bonded yet, but my body is reacting as though we are.
Goddess, I pray. Does this mean that in this life, I might actually find a mate to love, one who will love me?
Looking at Hector’s sneer, I can’t imagine us ever being in love. He gestures to draw me toward him. I take a few small steps but keep myself out of his reach.
“Quite ruthless, aren’t you?” he asks calmly.
With equal calm, I let my gaze meet his. “I could say the same about you.”
He laughs a short, sharp bark. He runs his tongue over his teeth and looks me over again. “I thought I was marrying the other one.”
“The prettier one,” I say.
His eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re the healer, aren’t you?
“I am.”
Not that I expect I’ll be allowed to continue practicing the healing arts. Everyone needs a healer at least once in their lives, but it’s not considered an occupation worthy of a Luna. Anyway, once Hector becomes the Alpha and I’m the Luna, I’ll have too much taking up my time to continue with my healing work.
“I like a smart she-wolf,” Hector says with another slide of his tongue, this time over his lips. “And you’re fierce. I thought for sure Joshua would have been able to have his way with you. I guess you’re not the eager little whore the rumors about you have said. Tell me, something…you can’t truly be a virgin, can you?”
I flinch at the reminder of the stories my sister spread about me. It doesn’t matter that everyone had to know they couldn’t really be true…Jocelyn had been so insistent that nobody dared go against her. Anything she ever said was meant to make me look bad and her look better.
“I am.” I lift my chin and meet his gaze, daring him to say he doesn’t believe me.
Hector studies me, then stands and comes closer. He draws his nose along my bared shoulder and throat. Pressing his teeth to my skin, he touches the tip of his tongue to my neck, but he doesn’t bite. He’ll do that later.
“By the Moon, you are,” he says and pushes me back just far enough to look at my face. His fingers still grip my arms so tightly, I’d have to yank hard to get away.
“Why would you want someone else to take my virginity? And on our wedding day?” I hate the tremor in my voice and the way I take another step toward him, but I can’t help myself. I’m desperate to know, to understand. The Moon Goddess has to be teaching me something. I just can’t figure out what it is.
There’s a flicker in Hector’s gaze, and I suddenly understand why he’d send his Beta in to take me that way.
It is a gift of knowledge straight from the Moon Goddess herself, and my jaw drops.
The moment he sees the understanding dawn on my face, Hector leaps from the couch to grab me by the upper arms. His fingers dig deep into my flesh. I’ll be bruised tomorrow, but he won’t care. If anything, a man like this will take pride in leaving such marks. Not so different from the mark he’ll give me later, after the ceremony, when he gives me the mating bite that will bond us together for eternity.
I don’t know why, but I’ve been given the chance to live a new life. Make new choices, such as they are with the restrictions I’m still facing. But I know one truth for certain — whether I’m forced to marry Oliver or Hector, I refuse to live under someone’s control anymore.
When I slide my hand down his rock-hard stomach, his gaze flickers. When I cup between his legs, he scowls and grips my wrist. More bruises. He even grinds the bones together. It hurts bad enough for me to draw in a hissing breath — but I don’t let go.
I stroke him, and it’s not my clumsy efforts that leave him unaroused.
No wonder my sister hadn’t been able to get with pup. No wonder she’d been ranting and raving to the point where Hector had had her hospitalized. No wonder she was so desperate to marry Oliver this time, instead.
“I can help you with this,” I murmur, holding his gaze with mine. “I’m a healer, remember?”
I try to release him, but his grip on my wrist gets even tighter. I stagger a little but manage to keep my balance at the last second. My palm feels very hot nestled between his thighs, and I want to pull it away…
But at the same time, I don’t.
His grin is hideous, full of malice. “I should kill you right now.”
In an instant, his hand is around my throat.
I gasp for breath, batting without success at his curling fingers. He squeezes harder as his features ripple with his wolf, just beneath the surface.
I can practically hear him thinking — better to silence me forever with this secret he’s managed to keep for so long. Hector’s reputation as a playboy with multiple mistresses has never been questioned. The only reason I even know it is because I’ve lived through a different timeline in the past and been reincarnated.
“If you kill me,” I manage to gasp out, “you’ll set off another pack war. Not to mention, your grandfather will probably kill you.”
“Not if I make it seem like an accident.” One last time, his fingers squeeze, stopping just short of choking me. Again, he slides his nose along my skin, breathing me in.
When I shiver, is it distaste or something else? I’m not sure, but apparently neither is Hector, because he backs away from me with another scowl. He turns his back to me.
“You don’t seem to know your place, Yvonne,” he says with a bitter tone.
“Know it?” I laugh with equal bitterness. “I know it, all right. I simply refuse to keep accepting it!”
For a second, I think he’s going to hit me, but at the last moment, he stops himself. His fists clench. His wolf flashes in his eyes — a vivid violet rimmed with green. I’ve never seen a wolf with eyes like that. His tongue, ruby red, slides along the points of his canines as he snarls.
“I’ll never tell anyone!” I shout before he can fully transform.
That would ruin this wedding day, and suddenly, I’m more eager to go through with it than I thought I’d be.
Whatever the Moon Goddess has planned for me, it’s not for me to try and fight her wishes. If she wants me to live my life over again, it has to be so I can make different choices, right? To give me another chance at happiness? No matter how unreasonable that expectation might be?
A knock at the door has us both turning. It’s the enormous Beta. At least he’s got all his clothes on, now. Joshua, that’s his name. I expect him to look me over with that same lewd glare, but apparently, he only tries to brutalize women when he’s ordered to.
“They’re waiting for you both so the ceremony can start,” Joshua says.
“Is my sister throwing a fit?”
He gives me a small, tight, reluctant smile and a sharp nod. “She says she’ll start without you, if you don’t stop trying to ruin her special day. And your grandfather.” He nods at Hector but doesn’t finish because Hector holds up a hand.
“I know all about my grandfather.” Hector turns to me and dismisses Joshua, who leaves at once. Hector eyes me, still frowning. “I’ve been to healers.”
“None who have been your true and bonded mate,” I tell him with more confidence than I feel.
The truth is, I have no idea if I can solve his “little problem” as I recall my sister’s describing it the first time we went through this life. But I’m willing to try, if it means getting Hector on my side.
Finally, he nods. “Fine. We’ll get married. I’ll go through with the mate bond.”
“And if my healing works,” I say quietly, “I’ll carry your pup and please your grandfather.”
“And spend his money,” Hector says with a rude twist of his lips, although there’s something like admiration in his gaze. Quick as the flash of his wolf, then gone just as fast.
“Won’t the price be worth it?” I drop my gaze to his crotch again, then up to meet his.
I’ve infuriated him, but I don’t really care.
I spent my former life bowing and scraping to please my parents, and it never worked. I’d done everything I could to be a good sister, no matter how many times Jocelyn slapped me back to the ground. Now that I have the chance to change my destiny, I’m going to take it.
And that starts now.
In my previous life, married to Oliver, I’d been able to heal his leg over the timespan of a few months. In fact, Oliver had also suffered the same “little problem” as Hector, but I’d always assumed it was more from the pain of his injuries than something else. Whatever is causing Hector’s inability to get an erection is something deeper.
Carefully, I draw in a breath and call upon the healing powers the Moon Goddess blessed me with from the time of my first transformation. I feel her energy cycling through me, pulsing every place my heart beats. It starts to draw something dark out of Hector. A deep poison he’s allowed to build up for years.
Distrust, anger, jealousy. He’s woven himself into a web of inadequacy he can’t untangle on his own.
But I can.
“Sir?” Joshua peeks in the door again. “They’re really getting anxious —”
“How long?” Hector grits out to me, his wolfish gaze boring into mine.
“Three days,” I promise. The healing pulse retreats.
Hector nods. “Fine. Let’s get married.”
Three days later, as promised, Hector is healed.
He’s not grateful.
Doesn’t even say thank you. He simply leaves me in our shared bed without a word.
I don’t care, though. The less I have to deal with him, the better. Still, I had expected him to go with me for the traditional post-wedding visit to my parents, where we’re meant to make an offering to the Moon Goddess and also give them gifts. When it’s clear that he’s not planning to hold up his end of the bargain, I hurriedly get ready and call for the driver to take me to the house that I’m glad I no longer have to call “home.”
I don’t even care that I arrive empty-handed. I’ve spent my life with these people doing their best to shame me for things I didn’t do. At least now I’m married to a man powerful and rich enough that they can shame me for the mistakes I actually make.
The moment I enter the living room, Jocelyn is checking out my clothes, comparing them to hers. Looking at her, I think the old saying is true—money can’t buy taste.
Yes, her outfit is exorbitantly expensive. Designer everything from top to toe. Mine’s more understated, but the colors and styles suit me, and I can see my mother eyeing the two of us and wishing she could find fault with me. But she can’t, and I hold back the burst of my self-satisfied laughter.
“Yvonne, your mate didn’t attend with you?” Jocelyn lets out a snide huff and rolls her eyes. “And no gifts? My mate sent along this exquisite coffee collection and espresso maker for Father, since we all know how much he adores his morning drink. And for Mother, we chose that gorgeous jade pendant and earrings set.”
“I love it,” Mother declares, preening, while Father beams from his chair.
“Your husband isn’t with you, either,” I reply nonchalantly.
My sister waves the enormous diamond ring on her left hand. “Oliver is the CEO of the Hunter Group. He was busy with important things, but he sent his regards, at least. What’s your husband’s excuse? We all know he’s not the CEO.”
“No. He’s just the rising Alpha,” I say with a wave of my own hand in return to show that I don’t give a damn about Oliver’s business position.
Of course, when I was married to him, I fully understood how busy he was. Many nights he didn’t even bother to come home, and when he did, the pain from his injuries left him with such an evil temper that he beat me out of spite. Even after I healed him, he could be undeniably cruel.
Thinking of this, I pay close attention the long sleeves on my sister’s dress. Now I see why she chose such an unflattering outfit. It’s hiding the bruises Oliver must have left on her arms.
Now’s the moment when I could take my sister aside and tell her I know the truth about her suffering, and that she doesn’t have to allow it. If we went together to Nathan Hunter and told him about how awful his grandsons are, he might listen to us. He might care enough to reprimand them.
But I don’t say anything to her, I just excuse myself to return to my childhood bedroom. I doubt there’s anything in there I’d really like to keep, especially that can’t be replaced, but I need to get out of that room. Watching my parents fawn all over my sister brings back too many bad memories.
Before I can even get more than a few feet beyond the doorway, Jocelyn follows and pounces on me like a wolf hunting a rabbit.
“Rising Alpha, maybe, but mannerless son-in-law, for sure,” she says with a haughty sniff.
I don’t even bother to pause. Infuriated that I’m ignoring her, my sister lunges at me. She throws the red wine from her goblet to stain my cream blouse, but as I step out of her reach, she teeters on her expensive stilettos and loses her balance.
When she crashes to the floor, Jocelyn screams like her head’s being cut off.
Her shriek brings our parents running in from the living room. Mother helps my sister to her feet, cooing and hushing her, while Father turns on me. He raises a hand to slap my face. In the past, I would have cowered, but now I stand up straight and dare him to take the blow.
He hesitates, probably thinking about the fact that my mate might not be the Alpha yet, but once he is, he will be the most powerful wolf in the entire territory. The Forest Green Pack has outranked the River Gorge Pack for a century. Even my father doesn’t dare risk hurting the rising Luna of Forest Green.
“Yvonne pushed me!” Jocelyn screams the lie, which my parents both immediately believe. “She wanted to hurt me so bad that I won’t be able to carry the Hunter family heir!”
“Not only did you come without your mate and didn’t bring us the gifts and the respect we deserve as your parents, or even the offering for the Moon Goddess…now you want to hurt your sister?” Father snarls. “You bring shame to this pack! No wonder your husband refused to honor us!”
A figure steps from the shadows near the front door. A voice, low and growling, sets my father back. It’s Hector.
“Who dares to say that I’d bring shame to my mate by not honoring her parents or the Moon Goddess?”
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