Category: English

In my fourth life imprisoned by Arthur Vance, I gave up. I stopped running away and docilely played the role of his pet canary. I even frequently mumbled to the System: Arthur loves me so much, I should try to love him back. Besides him, no one else can give me such a good life. As time passed, his grip on me loosened, and his gaze lingered on me less and less. Finally, a timid girl who feared him appeared by his side. I wept tears of joy and said to the System: “This method works! In my fourth life, I’m finally going to complete the mission!” 1 After saying that, I fell silent again. Because in my previous three lives, Arthur Vance had tested me countless times. An unguarded mansion, an unlocked door, a car parked on the side of the road… Without exception, I was caught and brought back every single time. His smile would be dark, his grip on my waist so tight it felt like he wanted to crush me in his fury: “Iris, you never learn to be good.” And then I would be severely punished. This time couldn’t be a test too, could it?! The System comforted me: [Although he has tested you many times, when has he ever used another woman? It’s clear that your obedience has made him feel there’s no challenge left, so he’s bored!] I had a sudden realization. That’s right! Thinking this, I felt a bit relieved. Then I hid behind a pillar on the second floor of the mansion, peeking down at the first floor. The girl in the white dress trembled slightly. Her voice shook too: “Everyone knows you locked up the eldest daughter of the Hayes family, tormenting her night after night! Mr. Vance, isn’t having her enough for you?!” “Locked up?” Arthur’s thin lips parted slightly. He leaned back on the sofa, his demeanor lazy. “Why don’t you go ask her—if I were to let her go, would she be willing?” The girl froze in place, a mix of fear and contempt flashing across her face. After a long while, she exhaled and met Arthur’s gaze firmly. “Even if she was tamed by you, I won’t be!” Arthur let out a cold laugh, the pressure he exuded immense. The girl’s face paled. She gripped the hem of her skirt, terrified yet stubbornly refusing to yield. Just like I had been in the beginning. Arthur raised his eyes slightly, scanning her carelessly. Then he gave an unreadable smirk. “You’re very much like Iris, but she’s learned to be much more obedient now.” Arthur’s voice was flat, as if he were just coldly stating a fact: “You have backbone, but what about your family’s debts and your brother in prison?” The girl’s frail body swayed, the light fading from her eyes. Arthur lifted his eyelids, the smile on his lips cold and thin. He instructed the housekeeper, “Prepare a room for her.” 2 Seeing that Arthur was indeed interested in that girl, both the System and I breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed completing the mission was just around the corner. No one knows how I survived my first three lives. To complete this mission, I had painstakingly racked my brains! In the plot, Arthur was a dark, cold, psychopathic obsessive, and I was the pitiful canary forced into his twisted love. My only main quest could be perfectly summarized in three words: Canary’s Great Escape. I had to escape from Arthur. In the first three lives, the more he forced me, the more fiercely I resisted. In the first life, I was constantly imprisoned by his side. When I finally found an opportunity to jump into the ocean, he grabbed onto me tightly. In the struggle, we were both swept away by the waves, ultimately dying together. The ocean was turbulent. He whispered gently in my ear: “Dying with you is a kind of happiness.” In the second life, I struck first, seizing an opportunity to poison him. Before he died, he stared at me obsessively and smiled: “I had it notarized. After I die, all my property goes to you. But if you dare use my money to keep other men, I won’t let you go, even as a ghost.” Arthur died. But the System judged the mission a failure. Because I had to escape him while he was alive for the mission to be considered complete. In the third life, I exhausted myself designing countless escape plans. Every single time, Arthur caught me. He would pinch my jaw, his expression ruthless, full of hostility. In his fury, my face crumpled in pain. He would eventually let go, stroking my cheek, his voice carrying a chill: “Iris, stay by my side like a good girl, and I can give you anything. Why not try… loving me?” Later, my wrists and ankles were entirely bound by chains. Like a ragdoll, I was confined to his side. With no freedom, I could only endure his moods. I hated him so much my teeth ached. In the end, unable to control myself, I found another chance to poison him, killing him again. And so, the fourth life began. Fine. Since the hard way didn’t work, I’d try the soft way! In this life, as he wished, I obediently stayed by his side. I stopped thinking about running away and instead tried to ‘love’ him. And sure enough, Arthur got bored. He liked the bird that was caged but yearned for freedom, the bird that would stubbornly resist even if it meant smashing its head against the bars until it bled. Not a tamed, obedient pet. I sighed inwardly. If I had known it was this simple, I would have compromised in the first life! 3 I was in the kitchen making dessert with the chef. He smiled, “Mr. Vance will be very happy to know you put so much thought into this.” I casually glanced at the camera in the corner from the corner of my eye and gave a docile smile. “I hope he likes it.” Just then, the girl from yesterday came downstairs. She marched straight up to me and glared. “Iris Hayes, I look down on you.” I paused, my hands still covered in flour. “Excuse me?” She gritted her teeth and glared at me: “Arthur forces you so much, and you actually fell in love with him? What’s the difference between you and a dog that’s been domesticated by its master?!” Seeing the situation turn hostile, the chef quickly slipped out of the kitchen. The girl looked down at the freshly made cupcakes resting on the counter. Furious, she swept them onto the floor. “You’re actually trying to make food for him. You’re a disgrace to women! Weak and utterly disgusting!” I lowered my eyes, suppressing the impatience bubbling up inside. Leaving aside the fact that I was putting on a show for Arthur. Even if I truly had fallen in love with him, the only person who had the right to despise me was the past version of myself. Arthur held immense power and his methods were ruthless and cruel. If I didn’t have the System by my side, an unwavering belief in completing my mission, and an incredibly thick skin, I couldn’t possibly have survived until now. I probably would have become a dazed, mentally broken mess long ago. Regardless, no outsider had the right to point fingers at me. I explained gently, “You misunderstand. Mr. Vance is very good to me.” Enraged, she tried to push me, but I stepped aside to dodge. Unexpectedly, she twisted her ankle and fell to the floor. The next second, the sound of heavy footsteps rang out, getting closer and closer. I put on a helpless expression: “Mr. Vance…” Arthur stopped, and the assistant behind him quickly stepped forward to help her up. The girl bit her lower lip. “You and the women you keep are disgusting!” Arthur raised an eyebrow slightly, his dark gaze landing on me. “What’s wrong?” The girl turned her head away, unwilling to speak further. Arthur’s meaningful gaze remained fixed solely on me. I instinctively walked over and actively nestled into his embrace. Arthur lowered his eyes, his eyelashes hiding a moment of stagnation in his emotions. Then he wrapped his arm around my waist, the corners of his lips curling up slightly, though his eyes remained unreadable. “Iris, you’re getting more and more obedient.” I said in a muffled voice, “The cupcakes I made for you were knocked over by her.” Arthur took out a tissue and carelessly wiped my fingers. “What a pity.” He didn’t blame the girl. “There’s a banquet tonight. You’re coming with me.” Arthur looked at her. I froze in his arms. The girl forced a smile, her tone mocking: “Didn’t Iris always accompany you before? Aren’t you afraid she’ll be angry?” Arthur stroked my cheek, saying casually, “She’s very good now, she won’t be angry.” Yes, exactly. I’m very good now. You don’t need me anymore. Just go on your date, okay? The disdain and disgust in the girl’s eyes became even more apparent, as if living under the same roof as me was something very hard for her to accept. She said to me softly, “Watch closely. No matter how good Arthur is to me, I will never sink and degrade myself like you.” Me: “…” I put on a humiliated expression, but internally, I was jumping for joy. That is truly wonderful! Arthur likes the stubborn ones. The more stubborn you are, the more interested he gets. Hopefully, when I run away later, Arthur won’t bother catching me. … Finally, I waited until they left. The mansion was completely silent, and I felt a wave of relief. I sat in the bedroom, opened my laptop, and seriously searched for routes out of the area, as well as international flights. Just then. Click. The door was pushed open. My fingertips, tapping on the keyboard, froze. I slowly turned my head. A tall figure leaned against the doorway, the shadows of the hallway obscuring his face. His deep voice echoed calmly in the hallway: “What are you looking up, Iris?” I snapped the laptop shut. “Just browsing.” Arthur walked over. His cold fingertips traced my neck, and then, like petting an animal, he stroked the back of my neck. I shrank back instinctively. Surprisingly, he didn’t ask anything else. He just said, “Let’s go. I’m taking you to the banquet.” A beautiful evening gown was brought to the room by a servant right on time. I replied, “Okay.” I didn’t ask him why he turned back, nor did I ask what happened to the other girl. I just quietly took off my nightgown in front of him and changed into the exquisite evening dress. Arthur didn’t look away, and even tied the bow at my waist for me at the end. In this life, you could say my interactions with Arthur were very peaceful. Unlike the first three lives, where the moment he touched me, I would slap him. When he tied my hands, I kicked him. When he tied my feet too, I bit him. Until the very end, I could only be tightly bound in his arms, glaring at him fiercely. Under no circumstances would I have allowed Arthur to pick me up like I did now. I docilely wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned into his chest. I didn’t ask for a reason. 4 At the banquet, Arthur kept his arm around my waist the entire time. Although other guests frequently looked our way, they were already used to it. In public, he never let me leave his side for a single step. Until he saw the girl being cornered by a few men not far away. His steps paused, and he looked sideways at me. “Be a good girl and wait for me here, Iris.” Then, he walked toward that girl. This was the first time he had voluntarily left my side. I stood there, covering my mouth. I was so afraid the smile breaking out on my face would be seen. I heard a few young heirs and heiresses from prominent families whispering nearby: “Why did Arthur Vance ditch Iris Hayes today? What’s going on?” “Oh, that girl is Chloe Bennett. Her family went bankrupt. Have to say, she’s walking the same path Iris did back then.” “And she’s just as stubborn as Iris was. I heard she threw a fit the whole way here today, which is why Arthur brought Iris instead—maybe to set an example for her?” I listened quietly, putting on a heartbroken expression. Otherwise, with Arthur’s suspicious nature, he would definitely suspect something. “Sigh, Iris is in love with Arthur now, but he has a new favorite.” “Exactly. I bet she’ll be kicked to the curb soon.” “Look at her, eyes downcast. She must be feeling terrible right now.” The chatter next to me suddenly stopped. Then someone patted my shoulder. A young heir handed me a business card and said with pity, “If Arthur dumps you, you can contact me.” He carried the casual air of someone offering condescending charity while enjoying a good show. But I still took his business card, gave him a bright smile, and said gratefully: “Thank you! If that day really comes, will you help me leave?” He was taken aback, gave an awkward hum of agreement, and turned back around. Just then. A loud noise came from not far away. Chloe pushed Arthur away, her voice frantic: “Get away from me! Why are you trying to help me? Isn’t Iris your woman?!” The entire banquet hall fell silent. Arthur looked down at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. In this life, because I didn’t run away, Arthur’s emotions were much more stable. He no longer acted like a lunatic. But I knew that deep down, he was still dark, obsessive, and violent. After a long while, Arthur pinched her chin, a half-smile on his face: “That’s right. Iris is much more obedient than you.” With that, he raised his chin in my direction. I submissively walked over to his side. Chloe’s eyes reddened, and she turned to walk out. Arthur grabbed her wrist, his voice growing even colder: “Why can’t you be a little more obedient, like her?” Chloe sneered: “I would rather die than become a woman like that!” Those young heirs and heiresses had just been discussing how Chloe was stubborn and hated people who yielded like I did. The end of her sentence trembled, her voice a little hoarse. Arthur picked up a glass of wine and held it to her lips. She turned her head away and suddenly said, “If you make Iris beg me, I’ll drink it.” An uproar went through the crowd. Me: “…?” Chloe flashed a provocative smile. Arthur’s brows drew together tightly, a dark cloud settling over him. I felt a bit wistful. Since I wasn’t fighting against him in this life, someone else had stepped up to cause trouble with him. But I didn’t think Arthur would agree. No matter how interested he was in Chloe, he wouldn’t put me in a position where I couldn’t back down. Until, after a moment of silence, I heard him call my name: “Iris.” His calm, dark eyes landed on me, carrying an undeniable command. The meaning was self-evident. I froze in place. Along with the shock, an unspeakable joy wrapped around my heart. I didn’t expect Arthur had reached this level of interest in her! My escape plan could finally be put on the agenda! Looking humiliated, I said in a low voice, “…Miss Bennett, please drink a little.” My voice was a bit shaky. To suppress my laughter. A look of disgust appeared between Chloe’s brows again. “You’ve actually degraded yourself to this level.” With that, she slapped the wine glass out of Arthur’s hand. The wine splashed onto my crescent-white evening gown. She turned on her heels and left. I discreetly observed Arthur’s expression. His eyelids lifted, his eyes as deep as a dark pool. I was very familiar with this; it was the state he was in when he was suppressing his violent urges. I helpfully suggested: “Miss Bennett seems very angry. Do you want to go after her and check? I can go back by myself later.” I don’t know if it was my illusion. But as those words left my mouth, Arthur’s face darkened even further. Arthur stroked my cheek, his smile dark. “Iris, you’re being so good, I’m almost not used to it.” I covered his hand and gave a dry laugh. “What are you talking about…” Arthur didn’t go after her. He casually kept his arm around me. He even had the leisure to take me to a lounge and keep me company while I changed my dress. I was a bit anxious and called out to the System in my mind: [Why didn’t Arthur go after her? Is Chloe too out of line and he doesn’t want to coax her? Please don’t let anything go wrong.] The System comforted me: [He probably won’t. This is exactly when the novelty is at its peak.] I thought so too, and breathed a slight sigh of relief. 5 Inside the massive, luxurious lounge. A new evening gown and matching jewelry were neatly laid out on one side. Arthur leaned back on the sofa, his arm resting on my waist. I sat in his lap, kissing him. He half-closed his eyes, looking lazy and satisfied. But my heart was pounding wildly. I was terrified he was getting interested in me again. It wasn’t until his phone rang. As he was about to casually hang up, I, already out of breath from kissing, quickly pressed the answer button for him. “…What if it’s an emergency?” The next second, a frantic voice came through the receiver: “Mr. Vance, Miss Bennett… she’s been cornered by debt collectors!” Arthur paused and lifted his eyes. “Address.” My heartbeat gradually calmed down. I was relieved. But as I watched Arthur stand up, I suddenly said, “My stomach hurts.” His voice was low: “Stay here and be a good girl. I’ll call a doctor.” With that, he strode toward the door. I added another sentence: “I want you here. Stay with me.” Arthur turned back, his pitch-black eyes landing on me. “Be good.” He said. “Wait for me to come back, and I’ll take you to pick out some jewelry.” I watched his back quietly until the lounge door was completely shut. Then I pulled out my phone and took out the business card I had received at the banquet earlier. The call connected. I said with a bright smile: “You said earlier that when Arthur dumped me, I could contact you. Did you mean it?” The other end was silent for a long time. “I meant it.” “Good,” I said. “I want to leave tonight.” After a moment of hesitation, the person on the other end didn’t ask any more questions. “Fine. Where are you?” “The lounge furthest in.” … When that young heir came to find me, he brought lightweight clothes. “You got dumped this early?” he asked curiously. I nodded, not explaining further. “Then where do you want to go?” he asked. I was silent for a moment. “Are there any really remote little villages? The kind where you have to take dozens of turns to get in.” My ID and passport weren’t in my possession, so I couldn’t leave the country at all. Although I didn’t think Arthur would bother catching me now that he had Chloe. But the trauma from the past few lives was too deep. I still wanted to escape to the most hidden place possible. The young heir nodded, then curled his lip. “If I knew it was this much trouble, I wouldn’t have slipped you my card.” I said, “But you already did.” A free helper delivered right to my door, it would be a waste not to use him. Saved me from having to plan the escape route myself. I don’t know if Arthur saw what I was looking up on my laptop today. But even if he did, he wouldn’t care. Maybe it was because he had a new pet he wanted to tame, or maybe in his eyes, I was already a bird content with its cage, occasionally fluttering about, but doing no real harm. 6 The vehicle sped through the dark night. I had swapped to a new phone and SIM card. The old phone was 100% being tracked by Arthur. The young heir beside me said his name was Oliver Reed. I offered a polite compliment: “Nice name.” He suddenly became flustered and angry: “Do you really not remember me?! And you still asked me to help you?” Under my confused gaze, he ground his teeth: “You used to bully me all the time when we were little, and you even braided my hair.” I was silent for a long time, then gave a soft laugh: “So it’s you.” I had almost forgotten. That was a matter from the first life. In the first life, I actually lived to be twenty-five, and then died together with Arthur in the ocean waves. The second life started straight from the point where my family went bankrupt and I was taken back by Arthur. So, after all these lives, I had almost forgotten the events of the first life. The only word left in my mind was “escape.” The car was quiet for a long while. Oliver spoke again: “The drive will take close to ten hours. You can sleep first if you’re tired. I’ll give you some cash when we get there.” I listened quietly. Indeed, I didn’t dare swipe the card Arthur gave me; I would be tracked immediately. I didn’t have to worry about material things; the System would pull strings for me. But since he offered me money, I gladly accepted. “Thank you, Oliver.” If Oliver hadn’t appeared, I would have had to plan this escape long-term, which would have taken another few months. But he was willing to help. And it was another dark, windy night. It would be a crime not to run! My heart was racing with excitement. In all these lives, this was the first time I felt so close to freedom. Oliver was scrolling on his phone, then suddenly handed it to me. It was a group chat. I glanced at the group name: Royal Relatives Chat Group. Me: “…” It was probably a chat group for the heirs and heiresses of prominent families. Until I noticed the content. [Hero saves the beauty! Arthur Vance took Chloe Bennett back, and then cleared all her family’s debts.] [Oh my god, why does this sound so familiar?] [If I remember correctly, wasn’t that exactly what he did with Iris Hayes back then?] [Looks like there’s going to be drama later.] [What drama? Iris’s temper has been ground down so much now. She’ll only be bullied by Chloe, just like at the banquet today.] I read the chat log, sneering silently. Bet you didn’t expect this, I’ve already escaped! What drama? Let’s all wish Arthur and Chloe a long and happy life together. There was a photo attached below. Chloe stood beside Arthur, wearing a men’s jacket over her shoulders, her face pale. Arthur looked down, gripping his phone. He did not look happy. The next second, the group chat exploded. [Arthur Vance is pulling the security footage from tonight’s banquet!] [What does that mean? What happened?] [Seems like Iris is missing?] [Is she heartbroken and planning to jump into the ocean?] Can we not curse me, please? Besides, I tried jumping into the ocean in my first life, and it really wasn’t a great experience. [Hmm… I think she’s playing hard to get.] [I think so too.] I breathed a sigh of relief, glad I had told Oliver to handle the security footage before we left. Oliver glanced at the screen. “You know him pretty well.” I gave a helpless smile. How could I not? Entangled for four lives, it was time for it to end! 7 The ten-hour drive ended with me half-asleep and half-awake. The final stretch of the road was so bumpy it jolted me completely awake. By the time we reached our destination, it was already early morning, the mist yet to clear. Stepping out of the car, I could feel the stone path beneath my feet was still damp. Oliver looked around the place with disgust. “I tried my best to find a place. You can stay here for now. If you need to buy anything, just go to the county town.” I nodded. “Okay.” It was only temporary anyway. I couldn’t possibly stay here forever. I just needed to lay low for a while. Once things stabilized between Arthur and Chloe and they completely forgot about me, I could return to a normal life. Oliver let out a yawn and pushed open the door of the small, flat-roofed house. “I’ll rest for a bit, and then I’ll head back.” The interior wasn’t exactly well-decorated, but it was acceptable. There was also a simple bed. Oliver and I had a tacit understanding to place a pillow in the middle, and we each took half the bed. After all, sleeping in the car was really uncomfortable. 8 When I woke up again. I was still groggy. “Oliver, what time is it?” I nudged the person next to me, only to realize the pillow that had been between us was on the floor at some point. I didn’t think much of it and called his name again: “…Oliver?” He rubbed his eyes, his voice raspy. “Let me check.” Just then. The wooden door was kicked open with tremendous force. I instantly became wide awake. Oliver hadn’t reacted yet: “…What the hell, scared me to death.” My eyelashes fluttered as I suppressed an inexplicable panic, then slowly turned my head. The light from outside poured in. A man in a black trench coat walked in slowly, and our eyes locked. The air and time seemed to freeze. I only had one despairing thought. Looks like we’re starting the fifth life. Oliver was fully awake now too, his face grim. “How did you find this place?” Arthur didn’t speak. His long legs stepped forward, step by step, getting closer, and then he reached out his hand toward me. I let out a deep breath. “Go to hell,” I said. In my first three lives, I had said those three words to him countless times. And he had died every time. Looks like they were still somewhat useful. The corner of Arthur’s mouth twitched, revealing a cold, faint smile. “Finally couldn’t keep up the act anymore?” My eyes snapped up. The words from the banquet! —Iris, you’re being so good, I’m almost not used to it. In this life, I had clearly been docile and compliant the entire time. But he felt he wasn’t used to it. … Arthur had also been reborn! Before I could think deeper into it, Oliver clicked his tongue. “I say, she wanted to leave you herself, why did you chase her all the way here?” Arthur’s gaze never once landed on him. Arthur only smiled as he looked at me. Then bodyguards appeared and directly dragged Oliver out. Oliver cursed loudly. My expression changed. “What are you doing?” Arthur tilted my chin up, studying me carefully. “Are you worried about him?” His voice was gentle to an almost eerie degree. I shivered inexplicably. The next moment. “Iris Hayes, how dare you worry about another man,” an icy voice squeezed out of his throat. I stared at him: “How did you find this place so fast?” This time, he answered, his tone calm: “Someone at the banquet saw him approach you. I just had to track his vehicle.” I felt a deep sense of powerlessness. It had been like this since the first life. I simply could not escape him. I couldn’t do it alone, and relying on others made it even harder. “Iris.” Arthur let out a soft sigh, stroking the back of my neck. “He slept in the same bed as you. I’m so jealous. Let’s have him killed, okay?” A person who didn’t value his own life wouldn’t value the lives of others either. And this was an extremely remote place. Oliver had helped me, after all. I gritted my teeth and forced out: “I didn’t… do anything with him.” “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Arthur smiled insincerely. “You know I hate it when other people get too close to you.” As he finished speaking, I shoved him hard, unable to control my temper anymore: “Are you sick? Aren’t you happy with Chloe? Why are you bothering me? “Even if I did have an affair with him, so what? Can’t we just pursue our own true loves? “I finally waited until you were bored, why did you come looking for me again?” Arthur looked down at me condescendingly. “I wasn’t bored.” He smiled darkly again. “Such a familiar feeling, Iris.” I was deeply exhausted: “We’ve tormented each other for so many lives, can’t we just let each other go?” “Torment?” Arthur softly repeated the word, the corners of his lips curving up. “Aren’t we in love? How can you call it torment?” I stood up and slapped him across the face. Arthur turned his face away. The next second, using the momentum, he pulled me into his embrace. The cold scent of cedarwood on him surrounded me, just like how he tightly wrapped up my life. He rubbed his cheek against mine. “It must have been hard running all the way here. I’m taking you home.” With that, he leaned down and picked me up. I pressed close to his ear and said softly: “In these past few lives, I’ve regretted it every single night. If I could, I would never have appeared in front of you that day.” Arthur’s body stiffened.

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Because I got together with my stepbrother, I lost my right to inherit our family’s billionaire estate. He was beaten until he went completely deaf in one ear. We were both cast out, abandoned by everyone we knew. We swore to each other that we would at least love each other forever, just to make that tragic price worth it. But by the seventh year, we had morphed into a resentful couple with zero communication outside of angry sex. Every day, I would hysterically ask him for reassurance: “Do you still love me?” “Do you still love me?” “Do you still love me?” And he always chose to answer my questions with silence, turning his deaf ear toward me. On a beautifully sunny afternoon, I tracked him to a corner café. I watched him flash a soft, shallow smile at a pretty boy, his brow completely relaxed. Suddenly, I felt at peace. Aside from my memories, I took nothing with me when I left. No matter how many times that question is asked, my answer will always be the same: I still love you. So, I am letting you go. 01 From the moment I received the location pin from the private investigator to the moment I arrived. It only took me twelve minutes. I ran a red light. I didn’t need to be this anxious. I had looked up the café on Yelp on the way over, and the top review caught my eye—Great spot for a romantic date. This was not a place to discuss business. I slammed my foot on the gas. I parked right outside the café. The very next second, my eyes locked onto the two of them. One was dressed in a tailored suit, the other in a cream-colored hoodie. My boyfriend, Tristan, and the shameless home-wrecker trying to seduce him. The two of them weren’t even trying to hide it. They were sitting openly at a table on the sidewalk patio. They had ordered two slices of some ridiculously unhealthy cake, both placed right in front of hoodie-boy. The anger burned so hot it made my optic nerves ache. Gritting my teeth, I grabbed the door handle with one hand and snatched my iced Americano from the cup holder with the other. It was full. Lots of ice. If I threw it, that manipulative, innocent-looking hoodie would be instantly ruined. But I didn’t pull the door handle. Because I saw Tristan smile. My movements froze in place. Like a machine suffering from years of neglect, I could practically hear the rusty grinding of my own joints. Through the tinted car window, the sunlight was blinding. Tristan wore a faint, shallow smile. He looked completely relaxed, the tension gone from his forehead. He was so beautiful, like an oil painting in warm tones. Quiet, peaceful, bathed in soft sunlight. I don’t know what the boy said to him, but Tristan’s smile deepened. He even leaned forward, as if trying to hear him more clearly. I slowly opened my eyes. I was a voyeur hiding in the dark, peeking at Tristan’s joy from the shadows of my car. My boyfriend was being thoroughly entertained by someone else. How long had it been since I saw him like this? Looking so happy and at ease. In a daze, I felt like I was seven years old again. My father was holding a strange woman’s hand, and that woman was holding Tristan’s hand. He was wearing a black-and-white striped sweater. You could tell at a glance he was a gentle, polite kid. My father said to me, “Call him your brother.” At the time, I had a huge piece of candy in my mouth, so I mumbled, “Bubba.” He smiled at me, just like he was smiling today. Soft and shallow. He corrected me with a grin: “It’s brother.” A freezing drop of condensation slid down the plastic cup and dripped onto my thigh, soaking a dark patch into my jeans. The hand holding the coffee had gone completely numb. I stared down at it blankly. Strange. It was just a few drops of water. So why did it feel like I was drowning? 02 It was midnight by the time Tristan came home. When he turned on the lights, he saw me sitting on the couch, hugging my knees. He paused for a fraction of a second, then ignored me. He took off his shoes and casually dropped his watch into the valet tray. He was too lazy to even ask why I was sitting in the dark. He walked over to the dining table, poured a glass of water, and drank it slowly. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple was incredibly sexy. “Tristan.” I took the initiative to break the silence. He didn’t reply. He just gave me a side-eye. “How long has it been since we slept together?” His Adam’s apple stopped moving. He set the glass down, hooked a long index finger into his collar, and loosened his tie impatiently. “I’m tired.” An unsurprising answer. Lately, this was exactly how he rejected me every single time. I nodded. “Okay, new question.” “I’m seriously exhausted. What is it…” “How long has it been since you smiled at me?” Tristan’s voice cut off abruptly. He turned his head to look at me. I smiled. “What, are you too tired to even lift the corners of your mouth? Do I need to turn into a college kid in a hoodie for you to smile?” He stared blankly for a second. Then, very quickly, his face darkened. “How many times do I have to tell you? Stop stalking me!” “Yeah. I won’t do it anymore.” “Heh,” Tristan sneered. “I won’t believe a single word you promise.” Saying that, he picked up the coat he had just taken off and turned toward the door. “I’m staying at the Chelsea penthouse tonight.” Over the past two years, Tristan’s company had exploded in value. We had long since escaped our initial poverty and desperation. We bought condos and villas, one after another. The days of getting kicked out and sleeping under bridges were never coming back. At first, I complained. It’s just the two of us, how could we possibly live in all these places? He said every property had a different vibe, and we could rotate them. But from beginning to end, I only ever stayed in this first apartment. It was a bit small, but it was crammed full of our shared belongings. It was cozy. All those other properties just became convenient places for him to escape me. Watching him unhesitatingly put his clothes back on, I knew he was dead set on leaving tonight. But just as his hand gripped the doorknob, I opened my mouth. “Tristan.” He would stop. I knew it. This was my ultimate weapon. Sure enough, Tristan stopped. He didn’t turn around, waiting in absolute silence for what I had to say. “Let’s do it.” I heard him scoff softly. He twisted the doorknob to open it. “Please, Tristan.” I added that, swallowing the second half of my sentence—After all, this is the last time. This time, he responded. He turned around, taking long strides toward me. He pressed a heavy hand against the back of my neck, forcing me face-down into the couch cushions. The crisp sound of a belt buckle unfastening echoed behind me, but in that exact moment, my mind started to wander. Would he be this rough with that boy? No, he would probably be incredibly gentle, carefully listening to his needs. My brain masochistically replayed the scene from this afternoon. Every frame was filled with Tristan’s tenderness and care. I was violently yanked back to reality by a tearing pain. No foreplay. No affection. I kicked my legs in pain, but he just let out a cold laugh. “Isn’t this what you wanted, Rowan? Are you satisfied now?” A strange thrill of pleasure bloomed within the pain. I buried my face in the sofa cushion, gasping for air as I stammered, “Tristan… do you still love me?” My answer was only a continuation of his rough movements. I gritted my teeth, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the fabric of the couch. “Do you remember… we promised to love each other into the next life.” Tristan remained completely silent. “Tristan…” My voice trembled uncontrollably. “Being with me… do you regret it?” Tristan finished his task in silence, pulling away without a single ounce of lingering affection. “I know you heard me. Answer me.” He straightened his clothes and coldly spat out a single word. “Boring.” Hearing the front door slam shut, the tears I had suppressed the entire time finally fell. If Tristan had just glanced into the bedroom, he would have seen the large suitcase I had already packed. But now, I didn’t want to take any luggage with me at all. I was taking the eighteen years of love, resentment, and history that I shared with Tristan. People say that if you just throw away all your yesterdays, your footsteps will become lighter. Tristan will definitely feel lighter now. I wish him well. 03 I wandered around aimlessly by myself. During this time, my text thread with Tristan was dead silent. Not a single message. On a whim, I booked a group tour to Iceland. This was supposed to be my 18th birthday trip. I had originally planned to elope and get a marriage license with Tristan on the way. But our family found out about our relationship, so we never went. Later, we were too broke to go. And after that, we had money but no time. Everyone says traveling clears the mind, but I just ended up thinking about Tristan the entire trip. Thinking about exactly how we ended up where we are today. Maybe when you fall into the mud, your most precious dignity becomes the cheapest thing you own. We went from never looking at price tags to bitterly calculating every single penny. Or maybe it was the holidays. Everyone else had big, loud, happy family reunions, while we only had each other in a cold, quiet room. These tiny, insignificant details slowly eroded the love I thought would never shake. I started getting paranoid, anxious, terrified that Tristan would regret it. I was the one who seduced him. I was the one who turned him gay. I was the one who dragged him down into this mess. I was the one who hysterically demanded he prove his love every day. I was the one who bomb-dialed him if he didn’t text back within seconds. At first, Tristan would patiently coax me. I will always love you. Slowly, he started giving me silence. Tristan was deaf in his right ear. My enraged father had punched him so hard he destroyed it. Whenever Tristan didn’t want to respond to me, he would turn his right side to me and pretend he couldn’t hear. I could read his brush-offs perfectly. The more panicked I got, the harder I pushed him. And so, the tension between us grew. It got so tense that he needed to go to someone else just to relax, just to catch a breath of air. “So, you’re going through a breakup, huh?” The recent college grad on my tour group suddenly asked me this one day. He claimed his roommates bailed on him, so he was on his graduation trip alone. Seeing that I was also alone, he unilaterally declared us travel buddies. He stuck to my side, buzzing in my ear non-stop. I really wanted to find his battery compartment and rip the batteries out. That’s what I was thinking, completely annoyed, when he asked the question. We were nearing the end of the trip, and he had pretty much worn down whatever temper I had left. “Yeah.” “Why did you guys break up?” I thought about it and gave my conclusion: “I pushed him too hard. I suffocated him.” “Why’d you push him?” “Because… I loved him too much.” The college grad thought for a second. “Sounds like unrequited love to me. That doesn’t count as a breakup.” I stopped walking. For the first time in days, a massive wave of emotion hit me. Standing in the freezing, sleet-filled air, my chest heaved violently, my face flushing red. I scared him. He frantically tried to backtrack: “Whoa, okay, I mean you loved each other! You loved each other, but feelings change as people grow. There’s nothing you can do about it. Just gotta look forward, right?” Tristan must have loved me. If he didn’t, then everything we went through over the years was nothing but a massive joke. When I got back to the hotel and plugged my phone in, there were still no new messages from Tristan. I swiped the screen with a blank expression and saw a text from an unknown number. [Your father is on his deathbed. If you have a shred of conscience left, come back and see him one last time.] 04 I hadn’t seen my dad in seven years. He looked so terrible I almost didn’t recognize him. His face was ashen, the color of wet cement. When he saw me, his dry, cracked lips trembled slightly, and his pupils shook. “Dad.” I walked over and held his hand. My cousin was right behind me, not giving me an inch of space. Letting me see him one last time was definitely not my cousin’s idea. He wasn’t that kind. I rubbed my thumb over my dad’s broad, calloused hand. This was the same hand that dragged me out of Tristan’s bed. The same hand that beat Tristan deaf. Back then, Tristan’s mother had already passed away. My dad was raising his stepson purely out of the goodness of his heart. He never expected that the reward for his kindness would be catching his two sons tangled in the same bed. He wanted to throw Tristan out. I refused to let him. So, I was thrown out right alongside him. Goaded on by my uncle’s manipulations, my father drafted a new will in a fit of absolute rage, leaving the entire family estate to my cousin. He used to be so imposing, so powerful. How did he end up looking like this after just a few years? I wanted to ask him if he regretted it. “Dad…” The moment I opened my mouth, my throat seized up. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The past seven years felt like a dream. The stark white fluorescent lights above poured down on me, chilling me to the bone. I heard my own voice say, “…I regret it.” Before I could even see my dad’s reaction, my cousin hurriedly grabbed my shoulder. “Alright, that’s enough. Don’t disturb his rest.” I was dragged out of the hospital room. The moment the door clicked shut, my cousin’s expression turned ice-cold. He sneered at me. “The dust is already settled. Regretting it now won’t do you any good.” I hadn’t even tried to contest the will, but he was already on the defensive. “It’s hilarious, really. Weren’t you acting all tough back then? It’s barely been a few years and you guys broke up? I heard you even brought your new toy. Everyone knows how you people are—a month together is considered a golden anniversary…” I followed his gaze to the “new toy” he was talking about. The college grad was standing by the stairs, guarding my two large suitcases. Even though he had told me his name several times, I still couldn’t remember it. He was supposed to have a layover in my city, but when he heard I had a family emergency, he insisted on tagging along. I walked up to him. He was intensely focused on scrolling through hotel apps. “Let’s go to my house.” I pulled out my phone to hail a ride. “If you don’t stay there now, you’ll completely lose the chance in a few days.” 05 The old family estate was piled high with moving boxes. Clearly, someone was very impatient to move in. The college grad gasped, “Wow, you’re a rich kid?” He paused, then delivered a brutal blow with a totally innocent face: “Then why couldn’t you even bear to order the lobster soup in Iceland? You only ate noodles.” I was too lazy to explain. He didn’t understand. People who have actually starved develop a sick, obsessive attachment to cheap, high-calorie carbs. Was my attachment to Tristan a sickness like that too? My chest felt hollow. The boy’s attention was quickly drawn to something else. He stood by the window, pointing down at the backyard gardens. “This is beautiful! Why is no one maintaining it?” I looked down. The Endless Summer hydrangeas were overgrown and drooping. The climbing trellises for the roses had collapsed, and the layered anemones were all dead. The first time I met Tristan, he was standing in front of a massive patch of anemones. I stumbled after him as we grew up, developing feelings I shouldn’t have. I took this untouchable flower on a pedestal and dragged him, inch by inch, into a web woven of agony and ecstasy. What I called him changed over time. From “brother” to “husband,” to “Tristan,” and finally, back to “brother.” After a fiercely passionate, burning love, we ended up just like this garden. A ruined mess. “Do you mind if I prune them tomorrow? Honestly, my childhood dream was to be a gardener.” “I don’t mind, but you’d be wasting your time.” I let out a yawn and pulled back the bedcovers. “This place is changing hands immediately. The new owner hates this flashy Victorian style. He’ll probably bulldoze it and rebuild.” The college grad didn’t care at all. He looked totally pumped. “That’s fine, I just want to do it for fun.” Unfortunately, he never got to have his fun. My father died that very night. He left in an incredible hurry. Maybe if I hadn’t said that sentence, he could have lived a few days longer. I really am a jinx. 06 The college grad attended the funeral with me. He nudged me and whispered, “Why does it feel like everyone is staring at us?” I looked down and straightened the flower pinned to my chest. “Because I’m the unfilial son who didn’t get a single penny. They’re terrified I’m going to snap and make a scene.” “Why didn’t you get a penny?” I seriously tried to remember his name. But my brain was just screaming Why? Why? Why? over and over again. He was way too curious. I decided to just shut him up. “Because I’m gay. I fucked my stepbrother. When we got caught, we were literally inside each other in the exact room you slept in last night.” It was wonderful. The world instantly went quiet. I looked over at my cousin’s family. They wore expressions of deep sorrow, but their eyes were dancing with joy. My chaotic heart slowly settled, turning into a completely still, dead lake. But the college grad wouldn’t stop throwing rocks into it. He leaned in close. “Is that him?” I shook my head. “I could never stoop that low.” “No, man, I don’t mean the cousin.” My heart skipped a beat. Slowly, stiffly, I raised my head inch by inch until I met a gaze from across the lawn. I should have known. He would come. Tristan was holding a black umbrella, standing beneath a pine tree. He stood tall and straight, exuding a cold, distant aura that screamed stay away from me. Some of the nosier guests were already staring openly and whispering to each other. Tristan completely ignored them, staring directly at me. Even after half a month apart, I still couldn’t control myself. My hands started shaking involuntarily, and soon my whole body was trembling. “Hey, are you okay?” I couldn’t give an answer. Watching Tristan take a step toward us, I panicked and asked the boy like I was pleading for help: “Can I hold your hand?” “Hold hands?” He tilted his head. A second later, realization dawned on him. “Ohhh. You want to make him jealous.” My freezing fingers were enveloped by a large, warm palm. A second later, Tristan stopped right in front of me. His eyes were dark and heavy. He stared straight ahead, completely ignoring the boy next to me as if he didn’t even exist. The buzzing whispers around us swarmed in like flies. The boy must have felt awkward. He gave a gentle tug to pull his hand away. I gripped it tighter and looked Tristan right in the eye. “Tristan. I saw Dad one last time.” Tristan gave a slight nod. “Did you speak to him?” “Two sentences.” “That’s good.” His face remained entirely devoid of emotion, like we were discussing something completely trivial. I wanted to remind him that he had called my dad ‘Father’ for ten years too. The words reached my lips, but I swallowed them down. Tristan probably hated our family. Hated us, one by one, for making his life so difficult. But I still couldn’t help asking, “Aren’t you curious about what I said?” He replied, “As long as you said what you needed to say. No regrets.” How could there be no regrets? My entire life was tightly bound by regrets I couldn’t escape. The biggest regret of all was that right now, at this exact moment, there was no one left to stop us from loving each other. Our relationship was no longer at the mercy of anyone else’s control. But one person had stopped loving. And the other had no choice but to let go. Tristan looked away, staring off into the distance, before bringing his eyes back to me. “When you’re done playing around, come home.” I froze. His tone made me feel like I was dreaming of our childhood. When I secretly followed my classmates to the arcade after school and played until the sun went down, Tristan would find me. He never scolded me, never rushed me. He just sat next to me and quietly did his homework. The second I showed the slightest hint of boredom, he would pack his bag, hold out his hand, and say calmly, “When you’re done playing, let’s go home.” Then we would hold hands and walk home, stepping on our shadows under the streetlights, while our driver slowly trailed behind us in the car. When we got home, the housekeeper would have hot soup waiting, and Dad would have brought back snacks from his business trips. The road ahead was long, but we could see where we were going. But now. I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. “I don’t have a home anymore.” 07 After the college grad finished blow-drying his hair, he asked if I wanted to visit his city for a while. “Grad school doesn’t start for a bit anyway. I’m just sitting around doing nothing, I can be your tour guide.” “You’re a really nice guy.” I stared at the smoke detector on the hotel ceiling, trying to sound casual. “I don’t get why your roommates bailed on you.” He instantly looked aggrieved. “I didn’t find out until after graduation that all three of them were gay! They didn’t want to bring me along. And then I come out here and meet you, and you are too. Seriously… what is my luck?” “I don’t get you guys. Are guys’ lips softer or something? Why does every guy…” Muttering under his breath, he slid under the covers. The nightstand between our beds was narrow. The draft from him pulling up his blanket brushed across my cheek, rustling my hair. When the lights went out, my vision plunged into absolute darkness. During the day, the guy distracted me enough that the agonizing pain wasn’t as overwhelming. But once it was quiet, my nerves were stretched and sliced open again. The noise in my chest was deafening. Too many mouths. Too many voices. That drowning sensation slowly crept up from my chest to my throat, suffocating my mouth and nose… I shot up in bed. “What’s wrong?” The bedside lamp clicked on. I looked at his sleep-tousled face, and my heart slowly dropped back into my chest. “Nightmare?” I shook my head. “Then… should I leave the light on? Can you sleep?” I shook my head again. “Ah… do you want to talk? I can order some coffee and hang out with you…” “Do you want to try it?” Cut off completely out of nowhere, the boy blinked in confusion. “Try what?” “Guys’ lips.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “404118”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Rumor has it that the heir to the Evans empire is the most untouchable guy in the wealthy elite circle of our generation. Arrogant, cold-faced, and entirely driven by his own moods, he is the golden boy everyone revolves around. I secretly, carefully harbored a crush on him, only to overhear his soft scoff around a corner: “Lily? Too timid. Not interested.” I silently deleted his contact info and decisively walked away, only to cross paths with him again in college. Late at night, in all sorts of places, his voice would go hoarse. “Baby, don’t tremble. Look at me.” 01 “Holy crap, we actually have a guy this hot in our major?” My roommate, Emma, suddenly screamed while scrolling through campus TikTok. “What? Let me see!” Zoe, my other roommate, asked curiously. Emma held up her phone. “The college Instagram page is blowing up! We have a gorgeous freshman, six-foot-two, insanely built, and word is he’s in our department! All the girls are secretly taking photos of him and posting them!” Zoe’s eyes lit up. “What’s his name? Who is he?” “Hold on!” Emma frantically scrolled through the comments. “Cole! Cole Evans! The notoriously untouchable heir to Evans Enterprises! I can’t believe he’s going to our school, let alone our department. I thought all these trust-fund kids had terrible grades!” Hearing the name Cole Evans, my hand froze as I was making my bed. I hadn’t expected to hear that name again, yet my heart couldn’t help but race. I cursed myself silently. Pathetic. 02 I knew Cole. Or rather, I was just a lowly girl who had a massive crush on him. During the summer before my junior year of high school, I went to Los Angeles with my mom for a vacation, and we ended up staying at the Evans estate. Standing in front of their mega-mansion, I was stunned. It turned out my mom’s best friend was the wife of the CEO of Evans Enterprises. Eleanor, Cole’s mom, welcomed us warmly. She handed me a massive gift card to welcome me, then linked arms with my mom, diving into endless gossip. That was the day I met Cole. Standing at the door of the guest room Eleanor had prepared for me, I hesitated, too scared to go in. Because the decor inside was just too outrageously luxurious! Suddenly, the door to the room next to mine opened. A tall teenage boy appeared in the doorway. His slightly messy hair fell over a strong brow bone, and his eyelids drooped lazily. He looked a bit groggy, like he had just woken up. Gorgeous. That was my first thought. This was an incredibly gorgeous guy. He just looked a bit fierce. Like someone you shouldn’t mess with. I stood frozen in place, staring at him blankly. The boy’s long, knuckle-defined hand gripped the door handle, and his light brown eyes landed on me. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his voice lazy. “Whose kid are you?” 03 Realizing he was talking to me, I gripped the hem of my shirt, stuttering a little. “M-my mom is Eleanor’s best friend. W-we’re visiting LA…” Before I could finish, he raised an eyebrow, looking a bit playfully cynical. “Visiting LA?” I nodded obediently. The corners of his lips curled into a faint smile, and he called out my name evenly. “Lily Miller.” I froze. He actually knew my name! I couldn’t help but ask, my voice tiny, “How did you know my name?” He replied nonchalantly, “Guessed.” Now I really didn’t know what to do. I was super socially anxious, but also a massive sucker for a pretty face. Whenever I saw someone attractive, I practically forgot how to walk, let alone someone who looked like an absolute heartthrob. I couldn’t help but tilt my head up to steal glances at him. He was so tall. So tall that I had to crane my neck, and it actually kind of hurt. Maybe he noticed my nervousness. His eyes curved slightly, he bent down a little, and his voice carried a hint of a bad-boy drawl. “Are you scared of me?” I stubbornly denied it. “N-no, I’m not.” But in reality, I was pinching the palms of my hands so hard they were turning red. His aura was just too overwhelming. He didn’t look approachable at all. But Cole saw right through me and didn’t call me out. A light chuckle escaped his throat. “Mhm.” He reached out a hand toward me. “I’m Cole Evans. Nice to meet you, Lily.” The heir to the Evans empire? This was him? I carefully reached out and shook his hand. Cole lifted my hand up a bit. My eyes widened, panic setting in, and I wanted to step back. Offensive! He’s being inappropriate! Cole’s tone was loose as he leaned in closer. “Lily, when you talk to me, you don’t need to be so nervous.” Those beautiful eyes looked straight at me, carrying a hint of mischief. “I don’t bite.” My reflection was caught in his light brown pupils, and a burning heat crawled from my neck all the way to the tips of my ears. “G-got it. You… you really don’t need to stand so close.” So forward. 04 I was handed over to Cole’s care. Being new to LA, I wasn’t familiar with anything. This was where my mom went to college, so her and Eleanor’s social calendar was packed from morning to night. So, the task of babysitting me fell onto Cole’s shoulders. At first, he was very annoyed. He looked at me sitting obediently on the sofa waiting for him, totally lost on what to do with me. Meeting my bright, expectant eyes, Cole frowned. “I’m going to a boxing match. You’re so skittish, how am I supposed to take you?” I didn’t say anything. I just glanced up at him once, then quietly lowered my head. Maybe I looked too pathetic. Cole crossed his arms and stared at me. Suddenly, he scratched the back of his head and let out a very quiet, “Fuck it.” He walked over, grabbed my mint-green backpack with one hand, and started stuffing it with things he thought I’d need. Tissues, wet wipes, a water bottle, an umbrella, a portable charger… Once it was packed, he slung it over his own shoulder. His light brown eyes held a hint of resignation. “Let’s get one thing straight. This is a legitimate boxing match, so somebody better not get scared and cry.” I nodded very gently. “I won’t. I won’t get scared and cry.” But my eyes unconsciously curved into a smile. Yes! Awesome! I get to go to a boxing match! Cole glanced at me, the corners of his mouth turning up, and he scoffed lightly. “Whatever.” He had this whole rebel vibe going on, and the mint-green backpack really clashed with his aesthetic. I had just raised both hands, wanting to take the bag back, when Cole reached out his long arm, lightly grabbed the back of my neck, and guided me forward. “The bag’s heavy. With your tiny frame, you can’t handle it.” He didn’t look at me, but the warmth of his fingers touching the skin of my neck made my cheeks flush. I gently squeezed my palms. The Evans heir didn’t seem as terrifying as the rumors made him out to be. 05 I became Cole’s little shadow. He took me to watch street races, play basketball, go to boxing matches, and even surf. I wasn’t as scared of him as I was when we first met. He had a wild personality and a ton of friends. Everyone who saw him called him ‘Evans.’ He was the absolute golden boy, worshipped by everyone. Cole did whatever he felt like doing. If someone crossed his bottom line, he fought fiercely and ruthlessly. But contradicting my stereotype of trust-fund kids, aside from his ridiculously good looks, Cole was surprisingly brilliant. He was ranked number one in his elite prep school, and his physics knowledge was already at a college level. I heard he was preparing for an international physics Olympiad. And the guy rumored to be the hardest to get along with actually had a really solid moral compass. He never showed disgust toward the elderly homeless people with dirty clothes and rough hands who collected plastic bottles around the courts. But sixteen and seventeen-year-olds are rarely good at hiding their emotions. Someone pinched their nose. “God, it smells. Can’t that trash collector go somewhere else? What’s wrong with the security at this indoor court? Letting someone like that in…” Before the guy could finish, he got kicked hard. He flared up, ready to explode, but when he saw it was Cole who kicked him, he immediately deflated. Rubbing where he got kicked, he asked cautiously, “What’s up, man?” Cole radiated a cold aura. He tilted his chin up, his voice flat. “Drink up. Chug all the water in your bottles until they’re empty.” The guys didn’t know why, but they didn’t dare argue. One by one, they tilted their heads back and chugged. Someone who had bought three or four sports drinks couldn’t finish them and pitifully begged the guy next to him, “Want some? Help me out, man! Aren’t we bros? Please, just take a sip!” In no time, all the plastic bottles on the basketball court were empty. Then, I watched as Cole, right in front of everyone, crouched down and carefully placed the empty bottles into the old man’s bag, one by one. His voice was polite and patient as he told the man, “From now on, if you need bottles, just go straight to the security booth. I’ll tell them to leave our empties there. The sun is too brutal right now; wait until it cools down to come out.” His usually arrogant face softened, and his beautiful hands gently supported the old man’s dry, rough ones. The summer sun was intense, and because of the basketball game, the front of Cole’s hair was a little damp with sweat. But in that moment, in my eyes, Cole was glowing. And my heart was beating so incredibly fast. 06 I fell for Cole Evans. Facing someone with such a good heart, who also perfectly hit every single one of my physical preferences, it was impossible not to. But I didn’t dare show a hint of it. Cole had a face that drew too much attention, backed by a billionaire family legacy. The number of girls who liked him was uncountable. And me? I was just the most ordinary girl in the crowd. Worse, my personality was the unlikable, boring, cowardly type. If it weren’t for our parents knowing each other, I knew I’d never have the chance to stand next to him. He was like a dazzling star in the sky, way too far out of my reach. I knew exactly how vast the gap was between us. I knew all of that. But a teenage girl’s crush is a surging, uncontrollable thing. It was like the tide, wrapping around my insecurities, crashing against the shore again and again, leaving behind nothing but the high-water marks. I carefully kept my crush a secret, cherishing that dream-like summer. But I forgot that a secret crush can actually become a burden to the other person. Cole took me everywhere. Seeing his handsome face every day made me really happy. But the people Cole hung out with were a wild, untamed crowd of ultra-rich kids. For someone with severe social anxiety like me, I stuck out like a sore thumb among them. Soon enough, I became famous in the LA teen elite circles. The rumors about me grew wilder and wilder. “Did you hear? Evans has a girl with him! Some quiet, submissive little thing who follows him around like a puppy. Wherever he goes, she goes.” “For real? He actually brought a girl? Must be some relative staying over, right? Like he’s just playing tour guide?” “With his temper, do you really think he’d just ‘babysit’ someone if he didn’t want to? I bet he’s actually interested in her! Why else would he drag her everywhere?” “Yeah, at that boxing match last week, I saw it clearly. The girl was only watching the fight, but Evans’ eyes were practically glued to her the whole time.” “No way. So many girls chase him. He’s so arrogant, how could he be interested in a girl who’s scared of her own shadow? I’ve seen her—she barely talks, totally passive, zero presence.” … 07 The rumors spiraled out of control, eventually reaching the ears of Cole’s inner circle. Those guys loved drama. Around a hallway corner, they laughed and asked him, “Evans, everyone in our circle is saying you’re into that little coward. We didn’t believe it at first, but now you even wait outside the bathroom for her. Are you serious about this? Do you actually like Lily?” I had just come out of the restroom and accidentally overheard. The hallway wall hid them from my view, so I couldn’t see Cole’s expression. I knew eavesdropping was wrong, but my feet glued themselves to the floor, my heart leaping into my throat. But the next second, I heard Cole’s light scoff. Casual and entirely dismissive. “Lily? She’s way too timid. Not interested.” Someone pressed on, “But man, you’ve been so good to her lately, we thought…” “Just babysitting.” Cole’s voice was laced with a chilling indifference. “Stop spreading rumors. It’s bad for her reputation.” Standing behind the corner, my heart plummeted from its heights and smashed into the ground. I already knew the answer, but I still couldn’t help but hope. By the time I fully processed it, my eyes were already wet. I raised my hand and wiped the tears away. So pathetic. It’s just a tiny bit of heartbreak. The sky isn’t falling. It’s no big deal! It’s just that the boy I like doesn’t like me back. It’s no big deal! I can just like myself, right? But the tears kept coming, faster and faster. I walked toward the exit, sobbing uncontrollably. It hurt so much! Was I already becoming a bother to him? Of course. No one likes being the subject of annoying rumors. So, the very next day, I packed my bags, told my mom I wanted to go back to Portland for a summer camp, and flew home. When faced with hardship, my greatest talent was running away. I firmly believed you couldn’t be ‘just friends’ with someone you were in love with. So I cut the knot swiftly, deleting and blocking Cole’s number. I didn’t even say goodbye. I just vanished. 08 “Holy crap, he’s so gorgeous! I can’t believe a guy this hot is a Chemistry major!” My roommate’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I forced myself to ignore my racing heart and kept smoothing my bedsheets. Emma called out to me, “Lily, come look! Aren’t you curious? A massive trust-fund billionaire kid, actually testing into our school! With those grades? You’re not even a little curious?” I didn’t stop making my bed. “Of course he could get into our school. He probably bombed his finals and had to settle for us.” Emma’s eyes widened, practically vibrating with gossip. “Oh my god, Lily, do you guys know each other?! Cole’s only been on campus half a day and he’s already a legend. His picture is everywhere. And you actually know him?!” She shoved her phone in my face. In the photo, Cole was leaning against a wall, listening to someone talk. His expression was flat, like he really didn’t want to engage, his eyes filled with a casual arrogance. He looked so cool, so effortlessly lazy. This was a side of Cole I had never seen before, and I was hit all over again by how ridiculously handsome he was. Emma shook my arm. “Lily~ What’s the deal between you and Cole?~” Hearing his name over and over finally broke my resolve. My mouth puckered into a pout, my voice sounding like it was about to crack. “What deal? It’s just… I had a crush on him, and I got rejected. That’s the deal…” All three of my roommates froze, guilt washing over their faces. They looked like they wanted to slap themselves. “No wonder you didn’t care. S-sorry. We’re so sorry.” “It’s fine. It was back in sophomore year of high school. We weren’t even that close. He’s probably completely forgotten about me.” I turned back to my bed, looking completely unbothered on the outside. But I pinched the same wrinkle in my blanket for a long time, unable to smooth it out. A whole year. It had been a whole year, and I still hadn’t forgotten Cole Evans. My heart still raced, just from hearing his name. I couldn’t understand why he was at my university. With his grades, getting into the Ivy League should have been effortless. Yet he took his top-tier scores and enrolled in our Chemistry department, even though he loved Physics. If I couldn’t figure it out, I wasn’t going to try. Classes had just started, and Cole was already famous by noon. As expected, he shined wherever he went. But none of that had anything to do with me. I was so ordinary; I’d just disappear into the sea of students. The Chemistry department was massive. As long as I didn’t seek him out, Cole and I would never cross paths. Besides, he didn’t even know I went to this school. Or maybe even if he did, he just didn’t care. But late that night, as I lay in bed, my phone buzzed with an unknown number. I was extremely socially anxious. Naturally, I never answered unknown numbers. I hurriedly hit decline. But the caller was relentless. The phone kept ringing and ringing. Not wanting to wake my roommates, I finally bit the bullet and answered. Hiding under the covers, I kept my voice low, whispering into the receiver. “Hello?” To my shock, the person on the other end let out a cold scoff. “Hah. Hello? What’s so ‘hello’ about this?” It was that familiar, raspy bad-boy voice, except he sounded like he was grinding his teeth. “Lily Miller. Deleting and blocking me? You better give me an explanation I actually like.” The phone slipped from my hand onto the mattress. My heart stopped for a second. It was Cole.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “404103”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I stalked my husband’s mistress. Her life was glamorous. She lived in a mansion in a wealthy neighborhood, drove a million-dollar car, and acted like a rich heiress. Even when she was out on a date with my husband, she always had a strict curfew. “I’m sorry, my dad is very strict.” To defend my marriage, I secretly took photos and sent a message to her “strict dad.” “Did you know your daughter is acting as someone’s mistress?” It took a long time for the other side to reply. “I know.” “I’m the one being cheated on.” 1 I stared at my phone screen, unable to process it for a good while. Why did he say he was the one being cheated on? I’m clearly the one being cheated on. Maybe the old man made a typo. After all, anyone finding out their daughter is a mistress would probably have trembling hands. I patiently corrected him: “Sir, I’m the one being cheated on. Your daughter is secretly dating my husband.” Thinking about it, I added, “If typing is inconvenient, we can talk on the phone.” The other party only replied with four words. “Let’s meet and talk.” 2 Before this, I had assumed Mia’s dad had to be at least fifty. I didn’t expect him to look so young. Even if a rich man took excellent care of himself, he shouldn’t look like the man sitting across from me. Dressed in a sharp suit, with deep-set eyes and thick hair. But this was also my first time doing something like this. How should I start the conversation? “I didn’t expect you to look so young. You don’t even look forty.” He raised his eyes slightly, staring at me. “Thirty-three.” I froze. “Huh?” “I’m thirty-three years old,” he said, pursing his lips. “…Oh.” I quickly took a sip of coffee. Feeling indescribably awkward, I blurted out, “Then you must have had kids really early.” He was silent for a long moment, his fingertip tracing the rim of his cup. “Actually, I’m not her… biological father.” I finally caught on. “You’re her stepfather?” “Something like that,” he said, looking down to take a sip of water. I nodded. “No wonder you’re so young.” He took a deep breath, gave me a look, pulled a business card from his inner pocket, and placed it between us. “My name is Alexander Vance. Let’s get straight to the point.” He withdrew his hand. “Regarding Mia and your husband, I want to hear all the details.” I gripped my coffee cup tightly. “Okay.” 3 My husband, Julian, runs a fairly well-known piano training center. Mia is his student. She’s been taking lessons for over a year. I don’t know exactly when they got together, but three months ago, I went to find him and walked in on them kissing on the piano bench. My heart stopped at that moment. I wanted so badly to push that door open, but my pride and rationality crushed me until I could barely breathe or move. Even though my vision was blurred, my mind was ice cold. I memorized the girl’s face, went to the office, checked the student files, and found her name: Mia. She was young and pretty, tall, and enrolled in the advanced class at $5,000 a lesson. She had paid for thirty-two lessons. A total of $160,000. “For a female student her age, that’s not a small sum.” Alexander Vance listened to me with a blank expression. “Yes, I remember she asked me for $200,000.” Tsk, looks like she pocketed $40,000. I couldn’t help but grumble internally. It must be nice to have a dad willing to throw money around. Because I had only caught them once, I wasn’t sure if it was a one-time fling or a long-term relationship, so I started stalking her. I didn’t expect Mia’s life to be so glamorous. She didn’t work, slept until the afternoon, drove a million-dollar luxury car, and lived in a mansion in a wealthy neighborhood. Besides meeting friends for afternoon tea, she played golf and tennis. I followed her for half a month and was starting to feel depressed. “To be honest, I’m very surprised. Her lifestyle is so high-end, I don’t understand how she could settle for my husband.” Alexander’s face darkened, his lips pressed tightly together. “Would it be convenient to know about your husband’s financial situation?” I spoke openly. “He has a Ph.D. in music. He quit his university job a few years ago to start his own business. His annual income just reached seven figures.” “A million?” Alexander seemed to find this answer unbelievable. He twitched his lips, looked me up and down, and asked with a tone seeking confirmation, “So, is he exceptionally good-looking?” I reached out my phone to show him a picture of Julian. “Actually, he’s just okay… He’s not as good-looking as you.” He instinctively looked up at me, narrowed his eyes, and his tone shifted subtly. “You think I’m better-looking than your husband?” I froze for a moment. Is that what I meant? “No, I mean… we’re just ordinary people. We don’t have the superior looks that you two… father and daughter have.” He stared at me for a while, then suddenly grabbed my phone, tapped the screen with his finger, and knocked on it lightly. “He looks very ordinary. You do not.” My heart skipped a beat. I gripped my phone and pulled my hand back. “Mr. Vance, I came to you because I want you to discipline your daughter.” “Of course I will discipline her.” He nodded, raised his eyes to meet mine, his tone lukewarm. “But I don’t understand. Do you think that by doing this, you can win back your partner?” His words felt like a heavy hammer smashing into the most painful part of my heart. “Of course not.” I pocketed Alexander’s business card, stood up, took a deep breath, and looked down at him. “I just don’t want my ex-husband to have the chance to leech off a rich woman after I divorce him.” Alexander remained seated, tilting his head up, looking at me with interest. “What’s your name?” I slowly held out my hand to him. “Chloe.” 4 When I got home, Julian was moving things into the study. I stood in the doorway and looked at him. “Are you sleeping in the study?” He smiled at me and responded naturally, “My work is going to keep me up late recently, and I don’t want to disturb your sleep.” “Oh.” I ignored him. He probably wanted to keep himself pure for his mistress. I went into the master bedroom, took out the business card, and searched for him online. I had gotten Alexander’s phone number from the property management at Mia’s neighborhood. Thanks to the fact that the house wasn’t under Mia’s name. I wanted to know exactly what he did. To my surprise, typing in Alexander Vance’s name brought up countless affiliated enterprises, some of which even I had heard of. He was that rich… No wonder he gave that helpless smile when he heard about a seven-figure annual income. “Honey, do you want a cup of hand-brewed coffee?” Julian suddenly appeared. I immediately closed my laptop, terrified he would see. A cup of hot coffee was placed in front of me. “I have a female student whose family is quite wealthy,” Julian said, taking my hand. “You know I’ve been busy looking for investments lately. I invited her over for dinner tonight to chat about it.” I knew exactly what was going on. I looked up at him. “Which one?” “Mia.” Julian mentioned the name with a perfectly casual expression, as if she had absolutely nothing to do with him. “Sure,” I smiled. “Should I cook?” “No need, I’ll do it.” Julian suddenly reached out and touched my face, his eyes full of smiles. “You don’t need to do anything.” I met his eyes, feeling a moment of confusion. Maybe my taste was different from Alexander’s. In my eyes, Julian didn’t look ordinary. He had a very striking, clean-cut face, a good education, and a gentle demeanor. He was the kind of man who was easy to marry. If he had already had a change of heart, why pretend so well? At six o’clock in the evening, Mia arrived at our house. Julian went to the kitchen to cook and asked me to keep Mia company. “I didn’t expect Chloe to be so pretty.” She took the coffee, tilting her head and smiling at me. I maintained my smile. “Hmm… is it that surprising?” Mia was speechless for a moment. “But isn’t it tiring for you to be like this?” She looked away, gazing in Julian’s direction. “Do you know why I came to your house for dinner?” She turned her head and met my eyes. “Because the property management told me that a woman has been asking about me recently.” My heart pounded. Did she already know? Mia leaned in close to me, lowering her voice. “I came to warn you.” I froze in place, my heart racing, my palms sweating. 5 “Let’s eat.” Julian’s voice cut in, breaking the eerie atmosphere between Mia and me. At the dinner table, Julian chatted with her while putting food on my plate. I didn’t take a single bite. Who wants to act in a play with no audience? Mia seemed unable to stand it either. She pointed her chopsticks toward the study. “Mr. Julian, are you sleeping in the study?” Julian responded to her gently, “My work schedule is too busy, so we’re sleeping in separate rooms to get better rest.” He spoke ambiguously, probably trying to make people think we had been separated for a long time. I couldn’t be bothered to expose his lie. Sure enough, Mia believed it and flashed me a provocative smile. My expression was blank. I put down my chopsticks and stood up. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” Then I turned and walked away. Julian instinctively glanced at me, and it wasn’t until Mia called his name that he snapped back to reality and continued discussing business with her. He needed a multi-million dollar investment to expand the scale of his piano training center. “Sure, it just so happens that… my family also wants me to try finding some projects to invest in.” Julian actually acted quite reserved: “Mia, don’t rush into agreeing. I’ll send you the project proposal; take a good look at it first.” “Okay, I’ll listen to you.” She nodded. I stopped at the corner, took out my phone, and sent a text to that man. “Mr. Vance, Mia is at my house. As a well-known entrepreneur, if you don’t know how to discipline your daughter, I’m going to have to do it for you.” I waited a minute before the reply came. “Go ahead and hit her, my hands are tied.” My eyes widened. This man was baffling. A moment later, I sat back down. Mia seemed to be in a fantastic mood. She glanced at me: “Mr. Julian, if you and I become partners, wouldn’t that make me half a boss lady? Would Chloe mind?” Julian paused, then said seriously, “You would be half the boss.” I had endured enough provocation during this meal, and I had completely lost my appetite. I scrutinized Mia and spoke coldly: “But such a large sum of money, can Miss Mia really come up with it all by herself?” She met my gaze fearlessly: “This is nothing to me. As long as I want to, my family will support me.” Julian tugged at my arm: “Chloe?” He gave me a look. “I’m just worried she’s pushing herself too hard.” I smiled apologetically, then turned to look at Julian. “I know you’ve been looking for investments lately. Why don’t you send me a copy of the project proposal too? I happen to know a big boss who is very interested in this.” I stuffed my hand into my pocket, felt the thin card, pulled it out without hesitation, and placed it on the table. Julian was stunned. He read the name on it: “Alexander Vance?” The Mia across from us instantly changed her expression, looking at me in disbelief. The aggressive aura she had before vanished completely. I quietly enjoyed the change in her expression. She was indeed very afraid. The next second, Mia’s phone rang. It was a special ringtone, sudden and shrill, startling us all. Mia clutched her phone, stood up abruptly, her expression extremely tense. “That… that’s my dad calling… I, I’m going to take this.” She rushed into the guest bathroom and locked the door tight. I couldn’t help but laugh. It seemed Alexander finally had his hands free and knew to make a phone call. Julian asked me what I was laughing at. “She’s in her twenties and still so afraid of her parents, don’t you think it’s funny?” “I don’t think so.” Julian didn’t smile. He picked up the business card and stared at me. “How do you know Alexander Vance?” “How would I know him? I have a friend who knows his assistant.” I was about to take the business card back, but Julian dodged my hand and tucked it into his pocket. “Then let me have it.” Less than a minute later, Mia came out. Her face was pale. She hastily said her goodbyes, saying she needed to go home. She even refused Julian’s offer to drive her. Julian closed the door, muttering in confusion, “What… happened to her?” “Good girl, probably. Strict upbringing.” I had lost interest too. I turned to go back to my room. I had only taken a few steps when someone suddenly hugged me from behind. Julian rested his chin on my shoulder, his voice incredibly soft. “Wife.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, pushed his arm away, and turned around. “Didn’t you say you were sleeping in the study earlier?” Julian’s face stiffened slightly. “I…” He moved his lips but said nothing. “Then goodnight.” I walked into the bedroom alone. 6 Mia didn’t come to class for the next few days. I heard this from Julian. “Do you think something might have happened to her?” He frequently checked his phone, but there were no messages. “Maybe it’s about the investment. She couldn’t come up with that much money, so she cut contact.” I brushed past him and walked to the door. “Are you really pinning your hopes on her?” Julian frowned. He turned around and stared at me: “Where are you going?” “To meet a friend.” I grabbed my car keys. “You seem to be going out alone a lot lately.” He seemed to be complaining about me. “Can you accompany me?” I met his eyes. He nodded and was about to come over when his phone suddenly rang. He glanced at it, then looked at me apologetically, “I have something to take care of here, so…” “Okay.” I cut him off and walked right out the door. The friend I was meeting was a divorce lawyer. “The divorce agreement has been drafted.” I handed over the photos I took while stalking him and Mia on their date. Most of them were intimate interactions like holding hands and hugging. “As evidence of his infidelity, this is not sufficient.” I put the photos back in the file folder. “Then what level of evidence do I need to collect for you to be confident in helping me get all the assets?” “All the assets?” I looked up and repeated to confirm with her: “Yes, I want everything, including everything under his name.” Before leaving, the lawyer told me I needed more direct evidence. More direct… I opened my phone, tracked the location of Julian’s car, and drove to the place. It was a winding mountain road. Julian and Mia were standing by the side of the road. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Mia reached out to hold his hand, and Julian coldly pulled away. I sat in the car and took the opportunity to take some photos. But while reviewing the photos, I realized Julian was looking in my direction. Oh no, he recognizes my car. My heart raced. When I looked up again, Julian was already walking over. I can’t let him catch me! I immediately turned around and sped off. In the rearview mirror, Julian’s car was in hot pursuit. My heart was pounding. I stepped on the gas, continuously accelerating. I finally managed to put some distance between us, but unexpectedly, a car slowly pulled out from a bend. I slammed on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel, but a severe scrape still occurred. Damn it, and it was a Bentley. I pounded the steering wheel, forced to get out of the car. Just as I was about to apologize, I realized the person stepping out of the car was Alexander. “It’s you?” Thank goodness he still remembered me. Alexander glanced at my aggressive-looking car: “Practicing drifting?” I had no way out and could only ask him for help. “I was spotted. My husband’s car is right behind me…” Alexander: “…” He had his driver take my car away. I got into Alexander’s car. He drove, and I sat in the passenger seat. Julian’s name popped up on my phone screen. I hung up, and it rang again. It wasn’t until Alexander told me to answer that I dared to pick up. “Wife, are you nearby? I think I saw your car on the road.” Julian’s voice carried unconcealable tension. “My car got into a minor accident. It should have been towed away for repairs.” “Oh, is that so.” Julian breathed a sigh of relief. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” “Then where are you now? Should I come pick you up?” I instinctively glanced at Alexander, paused for a second, “No need, I took a taxi.” The call ended. Alexander, holding the steering wheel, chuckled lightly, “Both husband and wife are very good liars.” I was speechless. The car drove along the winding mountain road, the scenery outside the window like a lush green painting. “Mr. Vance, this doesn’t seem to be the way back to the city.” “Yeah.” He answered casually, “I have plans today. I’m meeting someone for dinner.” I was very confused: “Ah, then what about me…?” “You’re hitching a ride. You go wherever the ride goes, right?” Alexander turned to look at me, his tone matter-of-fact. I frowned and opened my mouth: “You’re having dinner with someone, what am I going to do there?” He tapped his fingertips on the steering wheel, articulating every word: “If you leave, it’s a hit-and-run.” “I…” I was forced to go have a meal with Alexander. The place was hidden deep in a dense forest, an exclusive private restaurant that was hard to book. Alexander’s friends were all waiting for him. “You’re always the most punctual. Why are you late today?” “Got into a car accident. Barely survived.” Everyone fell silent. I sat next to him, feeling like I was sitting on pins and needles. Especially during the meal, my phone kept ringing constantly. It was Julian looking for me. I stood up, and people looked over. Alexander explained for me, “Her husband is very strict.” “…Ah?” At that, everyone looked over in unison. I stood frozen, opened my mouth, but decided to keep it shut. I turned and went to answer the phone. On the line, Julian’s voice was strained: “Why aren’t you answering my calls?” I glanced at the screen. Over ten missed calls. “I’m having dinner with a friend.” “What friend? Male or female? Do I know them…” My head throbbed just listening to him: “You don’t know them.” Julian fell silent on the other end. I hung up the phone and was about to go back when I suddenly heard someone say: “Your taste is getting more and more obscure.” “Just an ordinary friend.” Alexander focused on his food. Everyone exchanged glances. I waited a moment before sitting back down, pretending I hadn’t heard anything. But his friends suddenly became interested in me. “Alexander, Miss Chloe looks very young. How long have you been married?” He looked directly at me: “How many years?” I was very embarrassed: “Three years.” His friend pressed on: “Then what does Miss Chloe do for a living?” Alexander turned his head: “Right, you are…” “A music teacher at a university,” I quickly chimed in. “Very nice,” he nodded approvingly. His friend crossed his arms and cast a helpless glance at him, “How come you don’t know anything?” Alexander put down his knife and fork. “I know her husband is cheating on her, their marriage is broken, and they’re about to get a divorce. That’s all. Isn’t that enough?” 7 The whole room went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. “I… I’m full. I’ll head back first.” I absolutely couldn’t sit there any longer and hastily fled the scene. I didn’t expect to see Mia approaching from a distance just as I stepped out the door. —She was definitely here looking for Alexander. I turned to avoid her, but bumped right into someone’s chest. “Hm?” Alexander took a half-step back, looking down at me. “Didn’t eat enough?” I shot him a look. “Mia is here…” Only then did Alexander notice the figure in the distance. He grabbed my wrist, shoved me alone into the car, and swiftly closed the door. Before he could get in himself, Mia ran over and started talking to him. I couldn’t hear their conversation. But Mia was crying non-stop and seemed very emotional. Meanwhile, Alexander stepped back, speaking with a blank expression. I secretly cracked the car window open a sliver. The man’s cold voice drifted in: “You said you wanted to learn the piano so you could play for me.” Mia’s voice choked with sobs, speaking in fits and starts: “I didn’t… those things you said… I don’t know who told you what…” Alexander showed no emotion. “It doesn’t matter who said it. Let’s just end it here.” Just as he opened the car door and was about to get in, Mia rushed forward, gripping the car door tightly, and actually knelt down in front of Alexander right then and there. “Mr. Vance, I know, I was wrong…” I never expected a girl as proud as Mia to bow her head to this extent. Alexander looked down at her calmly. “Don’t make this so ugly.” At that moment, my phone pinged, scaring me into instantly putting it on silent. Mia froze and tried to look into the car, but Alexander used his body to block her view. She understood, her face turning ashen. He got into the car, cast a glance at me, and quietly rolled up the window. “Did you eavesdrop?” I avoided his gaze, my heart pounding wildly. “You’re not her dad.” “I never said I was, just that it was something similar.” I was silent for a long moment: “How is it similar?” Alexander pressed the start button. “Sugar daddy. Financial sponsor.” Me: “…” The car started down the mountain. He swiped his fingertip across the main screen, playing an English song. I really felt like he was going to drive me crazy. I didn’t expect my complaint to land right with the mistress’s sugar daddy. My first reaction was to apologize: “Sorry, my husband cuckolded you.” “Ah, the perfect wife,” he suddenly sighed. I was half-dead with anger, speaking with a fake smile: “Mr. Vance, you seem to have a problem with me.” “No, I got cuckolded. This is just how I talk.” He kept his eyes on the road. “I hope you can forgive me.” He said everything there was to say… I whispered back: “I was cuckolded too. Why should I tolerate you?” He turned the steering wheel with one hand, showing no sign of feeling offended. “Oh, so you only tolerate your husband.” “You—” The car took a turn. Inertia caused me to sway slightly backward, and my angry words came to a screeching halt. A mountain full of lush greenery rushed into my view. The English song hit its chorus right at that moment. “I like driving this stretch of road the most,” Alexander said suddenly. I quietly appreciated the mountain view. But my phone vibrated, stopped, and vibrated again. Julian was calling incessantly. Alexander noticed too. “He seems to be calling every ten minutes.” I turned off the screen. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately.” Alexander glanced at me. “A cheating person is more insecure than a person who isn’t cheating. Because he knows exactly what he’s doing when he’s not answering the phone.” I laughed out of sheer anger: “Does he suspect me?” “Looks like you haven’t planned on cheating on him for revenge.” He quietly withdrew his gaze. I fell silent. After a while, the music was suddenly interrupted. Alexander’s phone rang too. He looked at the string of numbers, frowned, and pressed the answer button. “Hello?” “Excuse me, is this Mr. Vance’s assistant?” His Bluetooth was connected to the car, so the voice was on speaker. Almost instantly, I recognized whose voice it was, my body stiffening abruptly. Why would he call this number? Alexander was completely clueless: “I am Alexander Vance. How did you get my personal number?” The person on the other end was silent for three seconds, their voice inexplicably cold and deep. “I am Chloe’s husband.” 8 Alexander paused, not speaking. I dared not make a sound either. Julian’s voice came through the speaker, mixed with a bit of static. “Mr. Vance, sorry to bother you. I can’t reach Chloe, and she said she’s having dinner with you. Are you two still together?” “Ah?” Alexander looked toward me in disbelief. I sat up straight in a panic, waving my hands frantically. I hadn’t said that. Julian was trying to trick him into giving information. Alexander understood my gesture: “I’m not having dinner with her. You must be mistaken.” “Then perhaps I am mistaken… sorry to bother you.” “It’s nothing.” Alexander’s lips twitched. “But Mr. Julian, if you can’t reach your wife, you should call the police, not randomly call a stranger. Don’t you think that’s very intrusive?” This time, Julian’s voice paused for a good while. “Mr. Vance, you aren’t married yet, so you don’t understand my situation. Waiting at home alone, making call after call to ask around, is indeed very embarrassing. But compared to those minor things, I care more about where she is.” He slowed his voice, articulating every word: “I care more about who is destroying my family.” Alexander furrowed his brow, no longer smiling. “So, is a person like me offending you?” Julian, on the other hand, sounded like he was smiling. I gave Alexander a look, telling him to hang up quickly. Alexander found an excuse: “I have to go. I have a meeting coming up.” Julian’s voice was eerily calm: “I didn’t say my surname was Julian.” Alexander hung up as if he had seen a ghost. He stepped on the brake, pulled over, and opened the car window to get some air. “He thinks I’m the other man. Terrifying.” He started talking nonsense, “Working in this line of work must be really stressful.” I was also very helpless: “You let it slip.” “Did you marry Sherlock Holmes? You play stalker, he plays interrogator?” I laughed self-deprecatingly: “An unhappy marriage breeds excellent detectives.” “Whatever.” Alexander pursed his lips, his voice displeased. “How did he get my number?” “The business card you gave me was confiscated by him.” “Then I have to block him.” Alexander looked down to swipe on his phone. A moment later, he looked up at me. “I added you on WhatsApp. Remember to accept.” I stood there, a bit lost. He had already broken up with Mia, why did he still want to add me on WhatsApp? Was there still any need for us to keep in touch? Thinking back on all the events of today, especially the scene where Mia knelt before him, it lingered in my mind. Alexander was not a simple man. I really didn’t want to have any more involvement with him. “Mr. Vance, I’m not divorced yet. I don’t think we should keep in touch.” He paused, raised his eyes, and looked at me thoughtfully: “Hmm? What do you mean?” I carefully chose my words, “I’m a decent person.” “…Oh, so I’m not decent.” He let out a sigh, leaned back in the seat, tilted his neck back, and squinted slightly. “Your husband slept with my girlfriend, and I didn’t settle the score with him. Instead, he turns around and calls to interrogate me. You and I are completely innocent, yet I get inexplicably cursed at as the ‘other man’… and now you’re telling me I’m not a decent person?” “I didn’t—” He didn’t give me a chance to speak at all. “My days are like this: I have to work, get scammed out of my money, get cuckolded… I’ve really had it…” He suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt, strode out of the car, walked around the front, yanked open the door on my side, unbuckled my seatbelt, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me out of the car. “What are you trying to do?” I screamed in terror. “Alexander Vance, we live in a society governed by law now, there are cameras everywhere.” Only then did I regret it. How could I dare get in his car? I didn’t know this man at all. I was just blinded by his appearance, thinking he was a good person. “You know it’s a society governed by law?” He forcefully pulled me to the front of the car and pinned me against the hood. “I finally managed to take a day off to have a meal, and halfway there I run into you drag racing in the mountains. Do you know the speed limit here is forty? How fast were you going?” I froze, struggling to recall: “Eighty, eighty-five?” “Eighty-five? If I hadn’t been following traffic laws, I would’ve been killed by you!” His palm landed on the back of my neck, pressing me down to look at the dented area. “Look at what you did to my car. And you won’t even add me on WhatsApp. Are you trying to pull a hit-and-run?” I felt both ashamed and nervous. “Mr. Vance, it’s my fault. I take full responsibility.” Only then did he lean down, threatening me sternly by my ear: “Are you going to add me on WhatsApp or not?” “I’ll add you! I’ll add you right now!” “Pin me to the top.” “…Okay.” “Set as a favorite.” “…Why do I need to set you as a favorite?” Alexander paused. “My car is very expensive. I’m going to claim damages from you. Don’t pretend you didn’t see my messages.” “Fine.” I chose to submit. This black-hearted, evil capitalist. He makes so much money, yet he still wants to claim damages from me. I accompanied him to that meal for nothing. And here I was, naively thinking I wouldn’t have to pay. Alexander and I squatted by the mountain road. I took out my phone and operated it right under his nose. “You can’t block me from your ‘Moments’.” “…Okay.” “I want to be pinned above your husband.” I looked at him, having reached the end of my patience. Alexander clapped his hands and stood up. “Never mind then. The husband comes first.” We finally reached a settlement.

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I was Caleb Sterling’s executive assistant. I was also his fiancée. He never allowed our relationship to be public at the office, yet he was perfectly comfortable bringing me home to meet his high-society parents. Until the night I saw his eyes go red. He had his sister-in-law pinned against a corner in the hallway, his voice trembling with a raw, desperate rasp: “Elena, are you actually jealous? “Because if you don’t look back at me now, I’m really going to marry her.” Suddenly, I understood why, six months ago, when I took a terrifying fall from a ten-foot ledge, Caleb Sterling didn’t shed a single tear. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cry. It was just that he didn’t waste tears on people who didn’t matter. I slid the ring off my finger and handed it back. “The wedding,” I said, my voice steady. “It’s off.” 01 In the entire firm, no one knew about us except for Caleb’s personal associate, Ryan. As the clock ticked toward five, Ryan sent me a Slack message: [Maya, Mr. Sterling wants you to meet him at the family estate for dinner tonight.] I typed back: [Got it.] I waited for an hour in the parking garage, but Caleb never showed up. A biting wind swept through the concrete levels. I shivered, finally pulling out my phone to call him. “Are you on your way?” I asked when the call connected. A woman answered. Her voice was soft, melodic, and hauntingly familiar. “Hi there. Caleb is driving right now. “I’ll have him call you back in a bit.” I froze. Before I could say another word, there was a mechanical click. She hung up. I took an Uber to the Sterling estate. When Caleb’s parents saw me, their faces lit up with genuine smiles. The Sterlings were old money. Caleb’s father was a titan of industry; his mother was a retired Ivy League professor. They were the definition of a “legacy” family. When Caleb first suggested bringing me home, I had been a nervous wreck. I’d spent hours imagining a scene where his mother handed me a million-dollar check to stay away from her son. But it wasn’t like the movies. His mother, Martha, was incredibly kind. She never looked down on my middle-class upbringing or my public school education. Martha took my hand. “Where’s Caleb? Didn’t he pick you up?” Before I could answer, the front door opened. Caleb walked in. And right beside him was a woman with a gentle smile and a voice like velvet. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” I watched Martha’s eyes flicker between the two of them. Her brow furrowed for a split second before she smoothed her expression and smiled. “Oh. You’re here.” The woman slipped off her wool coat. Caleb instinctively reached out, took it from her, and hung it on the rack. The movement was fluid. Practiced. Intuitive. It looked like a dance they had performed a thousand times. Even after being with Caleb for three years, we had never achieved that level of effortless synchronicity. When Caleb took the coat, the woman hesitated for a second. Caleb shrugged slightly, looking down at her. “Something wrong?” She shook her head, smiling. “Nothing.” Martha pulled me closer, her expression clouded with hesitation as she introduced us. “Maya, this is Caleb’s brother’s… widow. Her name is Elena Rose.” As the words left her mouth, Caleb’s expression darkened. He looked profoundly dissatisfied with that description. “As you know,” Martha added softly, “Caleb’s older brother passed away a few years ago.” Later, while we were washing up for dinner, it was just Caleb and me in the restroom. “Why didn’t you pick me up tonight?” I asked. Caleb kept his head down, slowly washing his long, elegant fingers. His voice was a low drone. “Too many people at the office. “Did you really want to be seen getting into my car?” He gave me a dry, sideways glance. I felt like we both deserved Oscars. It’s a feat for a couple to be together for three years without a single colleague suspecting a thing. Was he just that good of an actor? Or was I? At the table, Martha placed a platter of grilled lobster in front of Elena. “Eat up, Elena. I know you like this.” Elena froze, her fork hovering in mid-air, looking awkward. Without a word, Caleb reached over and moved the platter to the other side of the table. “She’s allergic to shellfish,” he said flatly. “Keep it away from her.” Martha looked apologetic. “Oh, Elena, you’re allergic? I had no idea.” The rest of the dinner was eaten in a heavy, stifling silence. 02 I woke up in the middle of the night to find the spot beside me empty. I walked downstairs to get a glass of water, but as I reached the landing, I saw two silhouettes entwined in the shadows. In the moonlight filtering through the French windows, Caleb’s tall frame was unmistakable. He was pressing a woman against the wall, towering over her, his head bowed. I pinched my arm, hard, hoping I was dreaming. But the pain was real. Through the shadows and the glow of the garden lights, I saw his face. His eyes were wet. His eyelids were heavy and red. The woman pinned against the wall was Elena. She looked like she’d been crying; tears were still glistening on her cheeks. Caleb reached out, using his thumb to gently brush them away. His voice was a broken, trembling rasp. “Elena, are you back for good this time? “Why won’t you just look at me? “If you don’t look back at me now… I’m really going to marry her.” Elena didn’t give him an answer. Her shoulders shook with a sob. “Caleb… I’m cold.” Caleb immediately stripped off his sweater and draped it over her shoulders. He noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes. He grabbed a pair of plush slippers from the mudroom cabinet and knelt on the floor to put them on her feet. Those slippers… I was the one who bought them and brought them to the house. It wasn’t until a chill swept through me that I realized I was barefoot, too. This was the first time I had ever seen Caleb cry. In three years, even on the anniversary of his brother’s death when he was in a dark mood and drinking heavily, he hadn’t shed a single tear. When a mole in the company nearly bankrupted us and he had to handle the fallout, he remained stoic, calm, and utterly cold. Last year, when I fell ten feet during a skiing trip, the panic in his eyes lasted for a fraction of a second before he locked it down. He stayed at the hospital for exactly one afternoon before rushing off. He had looked rattled when he left—it was the first time I’d seen “fear” on his face. He was always the man who stayed calm in a crisis. But a single phone call had made him lose his mind. He’d even knocked over my water pitcher on his way out. And now, here he was, weeping as he begged Elena to come back to him. I wiped a stray tear from my eye and felt the ring on my finger. I slid it off and tucked it into my pocket. When I got back to the bedroom, Caleb still wasn’t back. I had exchanged contact info with Elena at dinner. I pulled up her Instagram. She didn’t post much. It didn’t take long to scroll through. Unlike me, who loved sharing every little detail of my life. Actually, I only posted to get Caleb’s attention. I remembered clearly—the day I was injured in the hospital was my birthday. I scrolled back to Elena’s posts from that same date last year. Her location tag was Mexico City. The caption was: [Almost got caught in that flash-mob looting. Scared to death.] The photo showed the corner of a man’s tailored suit jacket. Caleb’s suits are all bespoke. His initials are embroidered inside. I recognized the fabric instantly. So, that was why he’d lost his composure. He hadn’t been scared for me. He’d been terrified because Elena was caught in a riot abroad. He’d left my hospital bed to fly to Mexico. Touching the ring in my pocket, my heart sank into a cold, dark place. Even his proposal to me… it was just a move in the game he was playing with Elena. 03 I drifted in and out of a restless sleep that night. The next morning at the office, the girls at the front desk swarmed me. “Maya, did you see?” I followed their gaze toward the window. A sudden snowstorm had hit the city. People were scurrying inside, shivering. Caleb’s black SUV pulled up. He got out, walked around to the passenger side, and placed his hand over the doorframe so the woman getting out wouldn’t bump her head. The woman was Elena. When we left the Sterling estate that morning, I hadn’t asked Caleb for a ride. He’d just said, “There are too many people at the office. We agreed to keep this private.” “Wow,” one of my coworkers whispered. “Is she the new boss-lady? “Maya, come on. You’re his EA. Give us the tea. Is Mr. Sterling finally getting married?” I forced a smile and nodded. “Probably.” Speaking of marriage, the coworker looked at my hand. “Wait, Maya, didn’t your boyfriend just propose? “You posted the ring on Instagram. Why aren’t you wearing it today?” I looked at my bare fingers. “I’m not going through with it.” My coworkers gasped. In the distance, Caleb’s cold, distant features only seemed to find color when he was looking at Elena. He handed his keys to the valet and opened a black umbrella, tilting it entirely over Elena. Snow began to pile up on his own shoulder. Caleb caught sight of our little group. His cold gaze swept over us—a completely different look than the one he gave Elena. He tightened his expression, taking in everyone’s reactions. He looked at me, his eyes a flat, emotionless gray. “Ms. Weaver,” he said coldly. “Don’t you have work to do?” He glanced at his watch. “You’re ten minutes late. That’s a docking on your attendance. “Meeting in an hour.” With a sudden flurry of movement, everyone scrambled back to their desks. A coworker hissed under her breath, “I guess the richer the man, the more devoted he is to the one he actually loves.” I smiled sadly as I organized my files. Devoted? Loving his sister-in-law in secret for seven years? I guess that counts as devotion. I had to prepare for the meeting. I organized the slides, planned the schedule, and coordinated with the various departments. Once everything was set, I realized the water cooler in the breakroom was empty. I pulled the empty jug off. As I was about to hoist the new one into place, Caleb walked by. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing his pale forearms and the slight bulge of veins. “I’ll do it,” he said. I didn’t acknowledge him. I gritted my teeth and slammed the heavy water jug onto the base myself. He watched me, then gave a slight, curt nod before walking away. Every year, Sterling Group undergoes a “reshuffle.” Senior management stays stable, but the competition for the other roles is cutthroat, requiring layers of evaluations. After Caleb left, I was informed that I would have to give an impromptu presentation for the meeting—competing against a “new hire” for my own position. I was stunned. Before I could even process the news, the meeting began. Caleb had set the topic himself. I took a deep breath and stood at the head of the conference table. My hands were shaking. After I finished my presentation, Caleb began firing off sharp, aggressive questions, cornering me until I didn’t know how to answer. Then it was Elena’s turn. Her answers were mature, fluid, and polished. Caleb sat with his hands steepled, his long legs crossed. He narrowed his eyes. “Ms. Weaver,” he said, “You’ve been here three years. And yet, you can’t even outshine a newcomer.” The words were a calculated strike. He was showing me zero mercy in front of everyone. The room went silent. In that moment, I realized we were from two different worlds. He sat there, and with a casual sentence, he could negate everything I had ever done. Just like our relationship. At night, he was the captain of the game. In bed, out of bed. In love, or at work. His words were cruel, designed to sting the deepest parts of me. I remembered two years ago, when I failed my first promotion review. I had been a mess of tears and laughter, hoping for comfort. He had just looked at me and said: “Maya, this is the law of the jungle. “If you aren’t good enough, you get replaced.” I’d stopped crying then and asked him, “But I’m your girlfriend. Can’t you just… help me out?” He’d just smirked and said nothing. That was my first lesson in this relationship. Caleb was ruthless in business. He had warmth, but not much. He was never one to be swayed by emotion, and he wasn’t going to give me a “back door” just because we were sleeping together. I had taken his lesson to heart then. I’d worked harder. I’d eventually earned my raises and my title. 04 This time, after failing the evaluation, I didn’t cry. When the meeting ended, Ryan approached me with his standard professional smile. “Maya, this is Elena Rose. “Elena, this is Maya Weaver. “Maya, the competition is going to be tough this time. Elena just got back from NYC. Her portfolio is incredible.” Elena reached out her hand, looking at me with absolute confidence. “I’m looking forward to the competition. “Good luck.” Because Elena was the “new hire,” the team organized a happy hour to break the ice. Everyone was a few drinks in when I stepped away to the restroom to call Caleb. The line was busy. I tried a few times, then gave up. Elena had a few drinks, too. Her face was flushed. She was sobbing quietly into her phone. “Why aren’t you here yet? “Do you not want me anymore?” A few minutes later, a black Mercedes G-Wagon pulled up at the curb. Caleb got out and walked straight toward a stumbling Elena. When she saw him, she looked dazed for a second before running into his arms. Caleb pulled her into a tight embrace. “Stop crying,” he whispered. Amidst the hushed gossip of my colleagues, Caleb looked up. Our eyes met. He helped Elena into the car, then held the door open, looking at me. “Ms. Weaver, do you need a ride?” I smiled and shook my head. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 05 I saw the lights on in my apartment as I walked up. I sat on the bench downstairs for a long time. I pulled the ring out of my pocket and sighed. It never really belonged to me. I tucked the ring carefully back into its velvet box. Caleb was already there, changed into his loungewear. His hair was still damp from the shower. After I finished my nightly routine, I crawled into bed. He suddenly reached out and pulled me toward him by the waist. I felt the heat of his breath, that familiar scent of cedar and rain. His thumb brushed my lip. I suddenly shoved him away and flipped on the bedside lamp. He blinked at me. “What is it? “Rough day?” I suddenly remembered that in his most passionate moments, he always whispered a name that sounded like “El.” I thought it was just a pet name. Now I knew it was Elena. And he never kissed me on the mouth. Not really. Tonight was the first time he’d ever tried to initiate a real kiss. And I had pushed him away. “Caleb,” I whispered. “I’m not Elena.” His brow furrowed. He acted like he hadn’t heard me. 06 Breaking up with Caleb was easy. But leaving his mother, Martha, was hard. No matter what, Martha had been truly good to me. The next morning, I sat at the breakfast table waiting for him. “Caleb, we’re done.” I ate my toast slowly, not even looking up. The ring box was sitting on the other side of the table. I finished my breakfast and wiped my mouth. I pointed at the red velvet box. “I took the ring off. “I expect mine back, too.” Caleb let out a dry chuckle. “Maya, we’ve been together for three years. “You think you can just walk away?” In three years, Caleb had never initiated a breakup. I was the one who had tried to leave three times before. The third time, I was the one who went crawling back. Caleb had just smirked then, not taking my “breakup” seriously. He sat across from me now, slowly peeling an orange. “Maya, some games lose their charm if you play them too often. “Think carefully.” During our third fight, Caleb had told me, “Three strikes and you’re out.” That was his rule for everything. In business, if something failed three times, he lost his patience and cut it loose. In the parking garage, Caleb was leaning against his car. When he saw me, he looked up. “I’m driving you today.” I declined politely. “I’m not going to the office today. “Ryan assigned me to some field work.” Caleb didn’t push it. In the artificial light, his skin looked pale, his jawline sharp and perfect. Elena had DM’d me earlier, making a bet. She said even if she made a massive mistake at work, Caleb wouldn’t fire her. But even if I did everything perfectly, Caleb would let me go. She asked if I believed her. Of course I did. It wasn’t that I lacked a backbone. It’s just that the person who is truly loved is always the one with all the power. Caleb had waited for her for so long. Wasn’t it all just so he could keep her by his side? For three years, I had always clocked in ten minutes early. I never missed a day; I never left early. This was the first time I was late. Ryan hadn’t assigned me field work. I just didn’t want to see Caleb. When I finally walked into the office, my coworkers huddled around me. “Maya, where were you? “Mr. Sterling came looking for you. I was terrified—I lied and said you were in the restroom. “He came back an hour later. “He actually didn’t get mad. He just told you to go to his office.” I used the desk phone to call Caleb’s extension. He just said: “Come up. I need to talk to you.” I thought about it, then replied: “Mr. Sterling, I’m quite busy. “If it’s important, just tell me now.” I hung up and buried myself in my files. Suddenly, a shadow fell over my desk. That familiar, crisp scent surrounded me. “Maya,” he said, his voice low. I was so focused on the documents that I jumped. I had to clutch my chest for a moment to catch my breath. 07 I pointed to the stack of files on my desk. “Can’t you see? I’m busy.” Caleb was stunned for a heartbeat. “Fine. I’ll come find you after work.” My coworkers were terrified by my tone. They whispered to me: “Maya, did you get a headhunter? “Is a rival firm poaching you? I can’t believe you just talked to him like that.” I laughed. “No. Not possible.” “Are you quitting?” they asked. I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’m putting in my notice.” Standard procedure required a month’s notice. I’d already drafted the resignation letter. My phone buzzed. A message from Caleb. I had his contact saved as ‘A’. I’d secretly seen how he had me saved in his phone. It was just my full name: Maya Weaver. Seeing that had hurt. We were supposed to be the most intimate people in each other’s lives, yet our relationship felt like it was stuck in a deep freeze. Caleb liked every single one of Elena’s posts. He almost never liked mine. I hesitated before opening the text. [Wait for me at the front entrance.] I read it and immediately put it out of my mind. It wasn’t until the sun had fully set and my phone rang again that I answered. “Aren’t you down yet?” his cold voice asked. I finally noticed the time. “I’m working late. “Go ahead. Don’t wait for me.” I slowly began packing my desk. Since I was leaving, I needed to take my things home bit by bit. My eyes fell on a small succulent on my desk. It was funny, really. I’d begged Caleb for months before he finally bought it for me. I picked it up and dropped it into the trash can. 08 “Maya Weaver.” His voice was soft, but it carried a chill that seemed to seep into my bones. I looked up at him. “Still here, Mr. Sterling?” The office was empty. It was just the two of us in the vast, open floor. He frowned slightly. “Why are you calling me that?” I kept my head down, stuffing small items into my bag. “Because you’re my boss.” Suddenly, a warm palm pressed against my waist. His voice was a low growl. “Am I not your fiancé?” I froze. I let out a dry, cold laugh. “What? “I thought we made that clear this morning. “We’re over.” I felt his hand on my waist stiffen. He tightened his grip, his eyes boring into me. “Maya, did I ever agree to that? “We’re engaged.” I took a step back. “Then let me say it again, officially. I’m breaking up with you. “The engagement is off. “When you have a spare moment, return my ring. “Yours is back at your house.” Caleb looked dazed. “I didn’t consent to this. “We’re going home.” He didn’t give me a choice. He gripped my waist and steered me toward the elevator. I glared at him. “Are you insane? “What if a colleague sees us?” He only tightened his grip. His eyes were fixed on the glowing floor numbers. “I’m with my fiancée. Why would anyone have an opinion on that?” I spent the whole ride to the car trying to hide my face. Luckily, we didn’t run into anyone. Good. I needed to go back and pack my bags anyway.

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They always say the childhood best friend can never beat the new girl. Not long after she transferred to our school, I saw it happen in the empty stairwell of the science building. My arrogant, untamable childhood friend, Caleb Vance, was standing there with his head bowed like a scolded puppy, apologizing to her for his mistakes. Later, I had a minor disagreement with her. He just casually tossed out a single sentence: “I don’t want to see Lily at school anymore.” Terrified of offending the wealthy Vance family, my parents immediately transferred me to another district. From that day on, it was as if I had completely vanished from his world. I didn’t dare show my face around him. But later, on his birthday, he knocked on my apartment door, completely soaked from the rain. He looked pathetic, his face full of grievance as he asked: “Did you forget it’s my birthday today?” 01 They say the girl next door can’t beat the new girl. I used to scoff at that idea. But when I sat in the school auditorium, watching Caleb look up at Chloe Adams dancing gracefully on stage, I saw the undeniable, unfiltered adoration in his eyes. At that exact moment, I believed it. I also finally believed the rumors going around—that Caleb, the bad boy who didn’t respect anyone or anything, had softened his edges for Chloe in an empty stairwell. The feelings I had buried in my heart, the confession I never got to make, would just have to stay buried forever. When the song ended, I joined the crowd in applauding the shining girl on stage. Caleb got up from his seat, probably to go find Chloe. I stood up and left the auditorium, too. Walking outside, I raised my hand. A small, woven friendship bracelet dangled from my fingers, swaying in the wind. “Lily… here… for you.” I had looked at him, confused. “What is this?” Seven-year-old Caleb had been watching soap operas with his aunt and learned about something called a “promise token.” “It’s for Lily. From now on, Lily can only like me.” “I’ll protect Lily forever.” My eyes stung a little. I took the bracelet off and gripped it in my palm. You shouldn’t take the words of a child seriously. But I did. The fearless little tyrant, Caleb Vance, was the biggest joy and the deepest secret of my entire youth. … Chloe transferred here this semester. She was gorgeous and a competitive dancer. Her arrival caused an instant stir. The girls in my class whispered that Chloe was like the female lead in a young adult novel—the sweet, perfect girl who catches the eye of the untouchable bad boy. And then the bad boy bends all his rules just for her. A lot of guys chased after Chloe back then. Someone even joked that the only one missing was Caleb himself. Caleb had lazily stretched his arms, glancing at the guy who said it. “Does she even deserve my time?” See? He talked so big back then. Before, I refused to believe Caleb and Chloe were a thing because I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, nor had he told me himself that he was with someone else. But now, I knew. It was time to reel in my feelings and keep my distance. I used to walk home with Caleb every day. I couldn’t even remember when it started, but eventually, he began making up excuses to make me walk home alone. Honestly, he could have just told me. I wouldn’t have clung to him. After all, we were never actually together. 02 When we got back to school on Monday, it was time to collect the weekend homework before study hall. Caleb was the ultimate rebel. He just stared at the class rep and said, “Didn’t do it.” He used to listen to me. The whole class knew it, too. So whenever this happened, they’d come running to me to complain. It was the same this time, except they couldn’t even find him. Because the second the bell rang, he was out the door looking for Chloe. “Lily, Caleb didn’t do his homework again, and we have no idea where he went. Could you…” “Just turn the stack in to the teacher,” I said, shaking my head with a smile. “If he doesn’t do his homework from now on, you don’t need to tell me.” Hearing me say that, they just nodded. It seemed the rumors about Caleb’s new girlfriend were entirely true. My attitude only confirmed it for them. When study hall started, I kept my head down, working on my AP Calculus practice tests. Before Chloe showed up, I wanted Caleb to get into Columbia University with me. Now, I only wanted to work hard enough to get into Columbia on my own and chase my own dreams. Caleb didn’t come back for the entire period. The teacher frowned from the podium, asking where he was. The whole class looked at me, but I never once lifted my head. During the second period, Caleb finally strolled in from outside. He sat at his desk without a word, staring into space until a classmate told him the principal wanted to see him. He snapped out of it. As he walked past my desk, he paused for a second. I didn’t look up. I was calculating the final problem on my test. Every time I hit the last question, I could only solve the first part before my brain froze. By the time I finally solved it, my desk-mate leaned over cautiously. “What’s going on with you and Caleb?” “Nothing.” “Seriously? But you used to get more anxious than anyone else when he skipped study hall or didn’t do his work.” She looked entirely unconvinced. I spaced out for a second, then told her, “That was in the past. I’m not going to manage him anymore.” “Oh.” She covered her mouth in shock. “So… Caleb really is dating Chloe?” I lowered my eyes and stayed silent. It wasn’t until after the bell rang for the second study hall that Caleb slowly wandered back into the room. A moment later, a folded piece of paper landed on my desk. Leave first after school. I read the note, my expression flat, put it away, and went back to my test. The classroom was always loud and chaotic right after the final bell. I sat at my desk, packing my bag. Suddenly, the room went dead silent. My desk-mate gasped, and I followed her gaze. Chloe was standing in the doorway. She tilted her head slightly, curled her finger at Caleb, and turned to walk away. I couldn’t control my eyes as they darted to Caleb. He gave a helpless, fond little smile, grabbed his bag, and followed her out. The classroom instantly erupted into whispers. “Holy crap, it’s actually true.” “I used to think Caleb and Lily were end-game. The bad boy and the straight-A good girl. But a bad boy and a dancer? Kind of a better aesthetic.” “Don’t be a sheep. Am I the only one who feels bad for Lily?” “They practically grew up together.” “Like I said, the girl next door never beats the new girl.” … My desk-mate pressed her lips together, trying to figure out how to comfort me. I threw my backpack over my shoulder. My heart felt like it was dying, aching so badly I could hardly breathe. But I forced a smile. I couldn’t cry. If I let anyone see how broken I was, I’d become the school’s running joke by tomorrow. “I’m fine. Caleb and I have only ever been friends. I’m heading out. See you tomorrow.” She still looked worried but waved back. “See you. Be safe on the way home.” Stepping out of the noisy school building, I gripped my backpack straps so hard my knuckles turned white, clenching my jaw. But the tears fell anyway. My chest felt impossibly tight. How did he just suddenly fall for someone else? My vision blurred, but the arrogant, bright voice of the boy from my memories kept echoing in my ears. “I can do anything. And Lily Evans is the girl I’m going to protect for the rest of my life.” 03 “Lily, why didn’t you wait for me this morning?” Caleb had shown up late again. After class, he walked over, sounding aggrieved, and slammed a carton of milk on my desk. My hand, which had been writing down vocabulary words, paused. I glanced at the milk from the corner of my eye. “I already ate breakfast. And from now on, I won’t be walking with you in the mornings. I need to get to school early.” Caleb sat in the empty chair next to mine, looking completely lost. He propped his chin on his hand. “I haven’t messed with you recently, have I? Didn’t we always walk together?” “Things are different now.” I put my pen down, took a deep breath, and gave him a polite smile. “You have a girlfriend. We should keep our distance.” His expression froze for a second before he processed it. “She won’t mind. She knows…” “I mind.” I looked him dead in the eye. “I don’t want to become the target if the two of you ever have relationship problems.” “Lily…” Caleb had a terrible temper and zero patience. After saying that much, his patience was officially gone. His face went ice-cold. He stood up abruptly. The chair scraped harshly against the floor, making a horrible screech. He dropped one last sentence: “Suit yourself.” I lowered my head and silently closed my eyes. I had sat on my balcony all night yesterday, letting the cold wind hit me, wondering if I should just keep playing the fool, hiding my feelings, and staying by his side. But the bond we grew up with had to end here. They say you can’t hide the look in your eyes when you love someone. If I kept following him around, it wouldn’t be fair to me, or to Chloe. No girlfriend wants an overly intimate female best friend hovering around her boyfriend. After that day, Caleb never initiated a conversation with me again. Even when we passed each other in the hallways, he looked right through me. The girl standing next to him went from being me to being Chloe. He introduced her to everyone in his inner circle. Chloe was his first love, the girl he was completely infatuated with. I studied quietly, listening to their epic romance through the grapevine, just like everyone else. Because Chloe practiced dance so hard, she would get stomach cramps late at night. The next day, Caleb would bring her special, low-fat dinners prepared by his family’s personal chef. A varsity athlete from a rival high school had a crush on Chloe. A few days ago, he cornered her in an alley after school. Rumor has it Caleb beat him half to death. In this month’s mock exams, I took back the number one spot in the grade. My teacher had once warned me not to manage Caleb anymore, saying it would only drag my grades down. Caleb’s family was filthy rich. Whether he got good grades or not meant absolutely nothing to his future. After school, I rested my chin on my hand, looking out the window at the brilliant sunset. “Lily, where do you want to go for college?” One hot summer evening, Caleb had sat next to me, casually twirling a strand of my hair around his long fingers, asking me out of the blue. I answered without hesitation: “Columbia.” “That’s so far away.” Truthfully, I never told him why. I wanted to go to Columbia not just because it was an Ivy League school, but because I wanted to escape this city. I wanted to escape my family. My dad was like a lot of men. Once he got rich, his heart wandered. My mom refused to get a divorce. She believed it was her fault for not giving him a son, which was why he messed around with other women. In the dead of night, she would point a shaking finger at me and scream, crying over why I wasn’t a boy. If I were a boy, Dad wouldn’t have cheated. Later on, she finally did give birth to a son. My dad briefly returned to the family, but my mom poured every ounce of her soul into my little brother. To her, she finally had someone to rely on—a son to take care of her when she grew old. “Hmm… then I guess I’ll just have to get into Columbia too. You’re so clueless. Without me there to protect you, you’d get eaten alive.” The boy bragging in front of me had been the only light in my shattered life. I wanted to hold onto that light with everything I had. So I was willing to waste all my time on him, even if I couldn’t make it to Columbia, as long as we ended up at the same school. 04 A rumor that Chloe was the “other woman” started spreading like wildfire across the school. When my desk-mate and I came back from the bathroom, Chloe ran past me, covering her mouth and sobbing. Caleb came charging down the hall in the opposite direction. He grabbed me by the throat, looking like he wanted to kill me. “Lily, didn’t you say you were going to stay the hell away from me?! What kind of stunt are you pulling now?!” I couldn’t breathe. My desk-mate panicked and tried to shove him off me. “Are you crazy?! Lily and I just got back from the bathroom! Let her go, she can’t breathe!” Caleb yanked his hand back like he’d been burned. I gasped for air, collapsing against the lockers. “You make me sick, Lily.” “Lily, are you okay?” I crouched on the floor, coughing violently, tears spilling out of my eyes. Mia Brooks hugged me, gently patting my back. “It’s okay, Lily. Caleb and that girlfriend of his have lost their damn minds.” I wiped my eyes, biting my lip so hard to keep from crying out loud. The sheer hatred in Caleb’s eyes just now… I didn’t even recognize him. It felt like he really wanted to choke the life out of me. The boy from my memories was gone. Completely gone. Later, a classmate carefully slid her phone under the desk to show me. Someone had posted an anonymous confession on the school’s gossip app, accusing Chloe of being a homewrecker who ruined my relationship with Caleb. A lot of people believed it. The comments underneath were tearing Chloe apart, using the ugliest words imaginable. The bruises on my neck had turned red. I thought to myself, When I get home tonight, I’ll post a clarification to clear her name. But before I could even write the post, I walked through my front door to find my parents sitting on the couch, their faces dark with fury. They had clearly been waiting for me. A terrible feeling settled in my gut. A glass suddenly shattered against the floor right next to my feet. “What the hell did you do at school to piss off Caleb Vance?!” My dad slammed his hand on the coffee table, his eyes practically bulging out. “Do you have any idea that our company only survives because of the Vance family?! Are you trying to ruin your own father?!” I stood there, listening to my mom call me a worthless waste of money, while my dad demanded I go apologize to Caleb. The cold, massive house felt freezing. I was shivering, cold down to my bones. I don’t know—and I can’t remember—how that interrogation ended, or how I was physically dragged over to apologize to him. I actually wanted to tell him that I didn’t write that post, but that I would clear things up for him. But when the door opened, he looked down at me from above, his eyes as cold as ice. The words died in my throat. I lowered my head. I bowed. I apologized. He just looked at me blankly, leaning against the doorframe. “I never want to see you at school again, Lily.” My parents bowed and scraped, promising over and over that they would never let me appear in front of him again. I looked up at him mechanically. Under the harsh white porch light, I couldn’t seem to read his expression anymore. I couldn’t even clearly see his face. In that moment, my pride was utterly trampled into the dirt. It was then I realized that he and I were never from the same world. We were never on equal footing. The moon never lowers itself just because people wish for it. The moon you see at the bottom of a well is just a reflection, a total illusion. And all the kindness that rich boy had shown me in the past was just a fleeting whim of youth. I shouldn’t have fantasized about anything. From the very beginning, I was wrong. That night, I packed my bags. My parents made some calls and transferred me. 05 It had been almost two weeks since I transferred to Westside High. I rented a small apartment near the school. My parents were so terrified of Caleb seeing me and getting angry that they just told me not to come home anymore. East side, West side. Even though we were in the same city, unless we went out of our way, we would never run into each other. “Hey, Lily. Come watch me play basketball today.” The guy talking to me was wearing a black-and-white jersey, his sharp, slightly upturned eyes full of amusement. When I first transferred, the girls in my class warned me: “That’s Asher Reed. Famous for being ridiculously handsome and a massive player.” The other students around us pretended to do their own thing, but kept throwing side-glances our way. They said this was the first time Asher had actually chased a girl for this long. At seventeen, people always romanticized the idea of a high school love story happening right in front of them. They said the player was turning over a new leaf. But a reformed player is still dirty. I gently shook my head. “I’m not going. I have AP Calculus to finish.” He glanced at the textbook on my desk and raised an eyebrow. “Lily, do you realize I’ve been chasing you for two weeks?” “And?” He chuckled. “And so, why do you keep rejecting me?” By then, the classroom had mostly emptied out. The sun was setting outside, painting half the sky in brilliant shades of orange. I suddenly remembered a quote I’d read once: The evening breeze is free, the sunset is free, and I am entirely unique. “Lily, do you know you give off this really contradictory vibe?” The sound of a referee’s whistle blew from the basketball courts, slicing through the quiet afternoon. I looked at him. He smirked. “It’s like this vibe of being completely dead inside, mixed with a weird, ruthless determination.” “Which just makes me more interested.” I gave him a cold look and kindly reminded him, “Your game started.” “We’re playing Eastside High today.” His voice was raspy, dropping a hint that he knew exactly where I came from. No one else was around. I looked back down at my test. Finding my reaction boring, he clicked his tongue and walked away. Once he was gone, I looked up at the silent clock on the wall. I had a pretty good idea who wrote that anonymous post about Chloe. But what good did it do me to expose it now? Westside High wasn’t like Eastside. Every day at 6:30 PM, the classrooms automatically shut off the power to save electricity. When the lights went out, only the fading sunset illuminated the room. I packed up my books and walked downstairs. A gentle evening breeze blew cherry blossom petals off the trees, scattering them across the ground before carrying them away. I stood there, blinking quietly at the sight. Looking back at my short seventeen years of life, it felt exactly like those cherry blossoms—helpless, blown away by forces completely out of my control. “Wait, is that Lily?” The voice snapped me out of my thoughts just as I was about to walk away. Two familiar faces blocked my path, looking shocked to see me here. When I used to hang around Caleb, I got to know his friends. We used to get along fine. Both of them were holding sports drinks; they must have just come from the vending machines. “Lily, you really transferred here?” I looked at him, not entirely sure what he meant by “really,” but I nodded anyway. The guy with the slicked-back hair nudged his friend and said, “Lily, you and Caleb grew up together. He happens to be here today. Why don’t you take this chance to clear up the misunderstanding?” Everyone else knew I wasn’t the kind of person to do something like that. Yet Caleb, the boy who grew up with me, was the only one entirely convinced I did. “I didn’t…” Before I could finish, a cold voice cut in from a distance: “Does it take this long to buy a Gatorade? Or are you just standing around talking to irrelevant people?” He stood a few yards away, his eyes dark and hostile as they swept over me, looking at me like I was a total stranger. Hearing that, the two guys looked at me awkwardly. I just smiled. “I’m heading out. See you.” “Yeah, see you.” 06 Life at Westside was quiet. Time moved slowly. Sometimes I’d get stuck in my own head, wondering why nobody loved me. I was brilliant. My name was permanently glued to the top of the honor roll. When I was little, my mom told me everyone loves the smart kid. But when I grew up, I realized only teachers love the smart kid. My parents didn’t. I studied in total silence, waiting for the next exam, waiting for the SATs, waiting for nobody. My grades were an unstoppable force. I took first place in the state-wide mock exams. Standing on the high podium, the warm summer breeze blew through my hair and ruffled my uniform jacket. I looked down at the sea of students in their identical blue and white uniforms. Their eyes held envy and admiration. The principal stood at the microphone, using every impressive adjective in the dictionary to describe me. The ivy vines outside the window kept climbing. The cicadas grew louder. The sunsets grew redder. The sound of students reciting flashcards in the senior hallways grew deafening. Everyone wished they could hit pause on time, slow it down just a little bit more. I never saw Caleb again. It was like my ties to all my old friends were completely severed. I suppose they were always Caleb’s friends, not mine. When summer break started, I didn’t go back to that house. My family lived too close to the Vance estate. The day I transferred to Westside, the only thing my parents told me was: Don’t let Caleb see you. If you see him, walk the other way. I was seventeen this year. Next semester, I’d be a senior. My parents never once wondered if I was anxious about senior year. They never asked. Under the dim yellow streetlights, I sat on a bench, reciting English essays from memory. It didn’t matter. Every formula I memorized, every vocab word I learned, every practice test I took—they were all going to carry me out of this place. They were going to carry me toward a better, brighter future. People walked past me in the street. Nobody stopped for anyone. … When I walked out of the public library that afternoon, my phone rang. I answered it, but there was only silence on the other end. I frowned at the screen. Unknown number. I hesitantly asked, “Hello?” Still nothing. I hung up without a second thought. “Lily!” Asher ran out of the sports complex across the street, waving at me. He jogged over. “Wanna grab food?” I hugged my books to my chest, glancing at his friends in the background who were clearly shoving each other and laughing. “I’m just going to grab takeout and head home. You should eat with your friends.” “Come on, eating takeout every day is terrible for you. I’m taking you to a real dinner.” Before I could protest, Asher was dragging me down the street. He took me to a high-end French restaurant. Everyone inside was wearing tailored suits or elegant dresses. Even the waiters were in formal wear. Then there was me and Asher. I was wearing an oversized white T-shirt and denim shorts; he was wearing his red-and-white basketball jersey. We looked completely out of place. I quickly tried to stop him. “Are you sure about this? We can’t go in looking like this.” He blinked at me, genuinely confused. “Isn’t it just a place to eat?” Hearing his totally unapologetic logic, I realized he was kind of right. Before I could make up my mind, a waiter walked over. He looked at our outfits, smiled professionally, and asked, “Table for two?” “Yep,” Asher nodded. “Right this way, please.” The waiter smiled and led us inside. He walked us straight to a booth by the window. He asked, “Would you like to enjoy the view?” Asher nudged his chin at me. I checked the time; it was past six. The sunset should be out. I gave a small nod. The waiter smiled. “Certainly.” He pressed a button somewhere, and the tinted glass instantly cleared, letting a flood of warm, golden hour light spill over the table. My jaw dropped a little. It was incredible. When I snapped out of it, the waiter was gone. Asher handed me a menu. “What do you want to eat?” The prices were insane. I hesitated. Asher laughed. “Scared of bankrupting me?” Half of his face was bathed in the sunlight, the golden rays making his eyes sparkle. I told the truth: “Everything is really expensive.” “Relax. I can afford it. Order whatever you want.” I pushed the menu back to him. “You order. I’m not picky.” He took it back, teasing, “Not bad. Easy to keep fed.” “How do you like your steak cooked?” “I don’t like it raw.” He thought about it. “If it’s too well-done, it’ll be tough. Medium-well?” “Sure.” After ordering, I pointed at myself. “Guess what I feel like right now?” He took a sip of water, the corner of his mouth curving up. “What?” “Like a peasant who wandered into a royal palace.” He burst out laughing. When Asher laughed, he had two shallow dimples. It was bright and warm. Looking at him, I suddenly thought of Caleb again. I actually hadn’t thought about him in a long time. Caleb had a dimple when he smiled, too. He just didn’t smile much. Most of the time, he only gave a faint smirk. I used to poke the spot where his dimple was and say, “You should smile more. You look good when you smile.” When Chloe transferred, he started smiling a lot more. Sometimes it was a sweet smile, sometimes a fond one. Looking back, that was the universal truth of it all: He just didn’t like smiling at me. The dinner started when the sunset was at its peak and ended when the sky outside had gone completely dark. By the time we walked out, the plaza was packed with people. “Lily, I had a really good time today.” I looked up at him. He was looking down at me, smiling. “Today’s my birthday.” “What?!” I stared at him in shock. “If it’s your birthday, I should have been the one buying! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He sighed, faking a tragic look. “I was afraid if I told you, you wouldn’t come eat with me.” “I wouldn’t have done that,” I said. After a minute, I started thinking about what I could buy him as a gift. Suddenly, I felt warm breath brush against my cheek. He had leaned in close, his voice raspy as he asked: “Thinking about what to get me?” He had dyed his hair bleach blonde two days ago, which earned him a public reprimand on the school bulletin board. The wind blew through his hair, making him look like a golden retriever. “I want that scent pouch. The little sachet.” A while back, he’d come looking for me. As I was packing up, a small, hand-embroidered sachet fell out of my bag. He had picked it up, swung it around by its string, and asked, “Can I have this? Please, Lily?” I turned him down back then. Because I originally made that sachet for Caleb’s birthday. I had stitched the patterns onto it by hand, needle by needle. Even though I was never going to give it to Caleb now, it didn’t feel right to give it to Asher. It felt like I was giving him someone else’s trash. I nodded seriously. “Okay. But you have to wait a few days. I’ll make a brand new one just for you.” On the walk back to my apartment, Asher asked me for the first time: “Lily, where do you want to go for college?” I looked up at the sparse stars in the sky. “Columbia.” “Why?” “Because…” “Because I hate it here. It never snows in this city. I want to see the snow.” Asher kept his head down, deep in thought, and just nodded. We slowly walked up to the front of my apartment building. He said, “Go on up. Bye.” I took a few steps, then turned back to look at him. The boy in the basketball jersey was standing in the shadows, a faint smile on his lips, his eyes slightly dim. My heart fluttered for a second. I waved at him. “Happy birthday, Asher.” Hearing that, he raised his hand and waved back, laughing. “You’re definitely going to Columbia, Lily.”

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During the divorce, Mom fought for custody of my older sister. Dad fought for my younger brother. I was the middle child. Nobody fought for me. They all thought I was a lost cause, but as it turned out, I was the one with the real drive. After graduation, my sister barely got into community college, and my brother dropped out entirely. I ended up as the state valedictorian with a perfect SAT score. Suddenly, Dad and Mom were practically throwing punches trying to claim me. I brushed their hands off my arms and pulled two legal documents out of my backpack. “A kid who’s been thrown away once doesn’t exactly have a high sense of security,” I said coldly. “How about this—” “Whichever one of you is willing to sign this irrevocable will, leaving every single dime you have to me, gets to be the proud parent of the valedictorian.” 01 My dad was a cop, and my mom was a trauma surgeon. To outsiders, they were two successful professionals with glamorous, respectable careers. But to me, they were just eternally busy. It got worse after the divorce. Every time I asked Mom for lunch money or cash for school fees, she was always rushing out the door. “I’m on my way to save a life,” she’d snap. “Call your father.” But when I called Dad, he sounded just as exhausted. “I’m in the middle of a manhunt,” he’d say. “Go find your mother.” They played this game of hot potato, each convincing themselves the other had already taken care of me. In reality, I was always hungry. When things were really tight, I’d buy two dollar-menu breakfast burritos in the morning. That had to last me the entire day. When my stomach cramped from the hunger, I’d put my head down on my desk and tell myself to just hang on a little longer. At lunch, when my classmates went to the cafeteria or out for fast food, I always told them I wasn’t hungry. Truth was, I just didn’t have a cent to my name. Of course, sometimes I got lucky. My parents would suddenly remember they had a second daughter at the exact same time, and both would Venmo me money. But that kind of “luck” followed no logic or schedule. The hunger was my only constant companion. Once, after going three days without a single real meal, the world started turning black around the edges. I called Dad. I called Mom. They both ignored the calls, sending back texts about being “busy.” At that moment, I understood everything completely. In this world, cash is more reliable than love. Love can vanish. It can be ignored. It can be forgotten. But money holds its value. From that day on, I wanted money. Lots and lots of money. Enough to buy all the food in the world. Because if I had that, I would never have to be hungry again. 02 There was one day left before the deadline to pay the dues for senior graduation events and AP exam fees. I still couldn’t get ahold of my parents for the money. Their automatic reply was always that they were too busy. But then, my sister and brother updated their Instagram stories. Chloe, my older sister, posted a photo. She was twirling in a brand-new dress, beaming at the camera. Mom was standing right next to her, a gentle hand on Chloe’s shoulder. They looked identical—both beautiful, elegant, and perfectly composed. The caption read: 【Thanks for the early graduation gift, Mom! Love you mean it~】 Then, Dylan, my younger brother, updated his story. He was on a basketball court, mid-shot, with Dad right beside him correcting his form. Both of them were wearing matching, brand-new varsity-style Jordan tracksuits. The caption read: 【Dad said I needed to blow off some steam before finals. No pressure.】 I stared at those photos for a long, long time. They weren’t busy. They were just busy for me, their discarded daughter. A familiar bitterness spread through my chest, thick as bile. I should have known by now. I was the leftover piece of the puzzle. The one that didn’t fit. It was just like the day they settled the divorce. In the mediator’s office, when the question of custody came up. Mom didn’t hesitate. “I want Chloe,” she said. She looked at my sister, her eyes brimming with maternal pride. “She’s responsible, she listens, and her personality is just like mine. She’s going to go far.” Dad was just as quick to speak up. “I’m definitely taking Dylan.” He slapped my brother on the shoulder, his face lighting up with anticipation. “This kid is a natural athlete. He’s going to follow in my footsteps, maybe even go pro, or at least join the force.” The mediator glanced down at the case file, frowning. “There’s a third child. Jordan.” My parents both froze. “Oh. Right. Jordan.” Then, the hot potato game began again. “I’ve already got one,” Mom said, her voice turning sharp. “I can’t afford two on my schedule.” “She carries your family name, Miller,” Dad retorted. “She should be with you.” “Jordan is a girl. She needs her mother.” “My shifts are chaotic at the hospital. I can’t be leaving the OR to deal with a teenager…” I sat in the corner, watching them fight over who didn’t have to take me. Finally, I broke the stalemate. “I can live by myself,” I said. “Just send me child support.” And that was that. I started my life alone, in a small studio apartment, never quite eating enough. I watched the school group chat notifications blow up. Screenshot after screenshot of paid fees. I was the only one left. The homeroom teacher private messaged me, reminding me that if the dues weren’t paid by tomorrow, I wouldn’t walk at graduation or get my AP scores. I read the message, biting my lip hard, trying to ignore the dull ache in my stomach. I had only eaten a single dollar burrito today because my bank account balance was currently negative. But I couldn’t worry about hunger right now. This wasn’t just about food. This was about my future. If I couldn’t even take my AP exams or graduate properly, I was trapped. I’d be stuck in this cycle of poverty forever. I had to get that money. Since they wouldn’t answer my calls or texts, I had to go find them. Mom’s apartment was the closest to the school. I decided to start there. 03 Standing before that familiar yet foreign door, I took a deep breath. My fingers trembled as I pressed the doorbell. The door swung open almost immediately. Chloe stood there. When she saw it was me, an expression of utter annoyance washed over her face. She turned her back on me and yelled toward the kitchen. “Mom! Jordan’s here.” Her tone was thick with disgust. She stood blocking the doorway, making no move to let me in. From the kitchen came the clatter of pots and pans. Mom was busy. “Oh. Well, let her in, then.” Only then did Chloe reluctantly step aside, leaving just enough gap for me to squeeze through. I walked into the living room. Chloe had already stretched back out on the L-shaped sectional, taking up nearly the entire couch. I could only sit awkwardly on a hard wooden accent stool in the corner. I felt like an unwelcome panhandler. A few minutes later, Mom emerged from the kitchen carrying a small bowl. A delicate, fragrant steam rose from it. It was some kind of high-end herbal soup. My ravenous stomach immediately began to growl. “Chloe, honey, I made you some ginseng and chicken soup.” “I let it simmer for three hours. It’s perfect for restorative energy.” “You’ve been studying so hard, you need to drink this while it’s hot.” Chloe took the bowl, smelling the aroma. “Mom, you just finished a twelve-hour shift. You shouldn’t be cooking for me. You should have this.” “Don’t be silly. Mom doesn’t need it. You’re my precious baby girl. Anything I do for you is worth it.” The two of them began a playful back-and-forth about who should drink the soup. In the end, they shared it, smiling affectionately at each other. One spoonful for Mom, one for Chloe. It was a perfectly heartwarming scene of maternal love. And I sat there like an invisible ghost, three feet away, watching this touching family drama. I glanced at my phone. The deadline was looming. “Mom,” I started, my voice cracking slightly. “The deadline for graduation dues and AP fees is tomorrow. Can you transfer me the money?” The moment the words left my mouth, the loving smile vanished from Mom’s face. The warmth was instantly replaced by irritation and icy disgust. “Look at you. Every time you come here, it’s always for money. You’re like a collection agent.” “Besides money, is there anything else in that brain of yours?” Chloe chimed in from the couch. “Seriously, Jordan. Do you have to be so materialistic?” “Mom works so hard, and all you know how to do is hold out your hand.” My fists clenched slowly, my fingernails digging into my palms. “I’m asking for school fees, not pocket money for a shopping spree,” I said, keeping my voice level. “This is mandatory.” “And besides, it’s your legal obligation to support me.” “Obligation?” Mom let out a cold, sharp laugh. “I’ve raised you this long. What value have you ever provided to me?” “All you know how to do is spend money. You’re utterly useless.” “A couple hundred bucks for school fees isn’t money to you? Do you think my cash grows on trees?” Hearing those words felt like a physical blow to my heart. I slowly stood up. My eyes fell on the exquisite white ceramic soup bowl on the table. There was still half a bowl of that ginseng soup left. I had walked past a high-end health food store a few days ago and saw the price tag on quality ginseng. Hundreds of dollars. That single bowl of soup probably cost more than my entire school dues. She was willing to spend hundreds to give Chloe an energy boost. But she wouldn’t spend a dime to make sure I could graduate. And she dared to talk to me about cash not “growing on trees”? What a sick joke. All the humiliation and grief I’d packed away for years exploded in that single second. I reached out and grabbed the soup bowl. “Jordan, what do you think you’re doing?” I didn’t answer. I slammed the bowl down onto the hardwood floor. The sound of ceramic shattering exploded in the quiet apartment. The broth splashed everywhere. “Have you lost your mind?” Mom’s eyes widened, staring at me in disbelief. Slap! A resounding blow landed across my left cheek. A burning stinging sensation immediately radiated across my face. But I didn’t step back. Instead, I looked her straight in the eye. “Give me the school money.” “You ungrateful little bitch!” Mom was shaking with rage. “Over some stupid school fees, you dare to act like an animal in my house?” I repeated, “I need the school money.” She was utterly enraged by my attitude. Her hand trembling, she grabbed her phone. Ding. The notification for a Venmo transfer sounded on my phone. She threw the phone onto the sectional. “Take the money and get out. Don’t waste Chloe’s study time.” I checked the Venmo transfer amount. It was exactly half. A hundred and some change. “Why is it only half?” Mom smirked coldly. “I’m divorced, Jordan, not widowed. The mediation agreement was very clear. Your expenses are split fifty-fifty between me and your father.” “You want the other half? Go find him.” With that, she pointed to the door. “Get out.” The broken shards of the ceramic bowl glistened coldly on the floor under the lights. They looked exactly how I felt inside. Cold. Broken. Chloe sat on the sectional, watching the whole thing with total indifference. There was even the faint hint of a mocking smile on her lips. Fine. At least I had half the money. It was a hundred bucks more than I had five minutes ago. For the rest, I’d have to go find Dad. 04 Leaving Mom’s apartment, my left cheek was still throbbing. But I couldn’t worry about that. I still needed the other half of the fees. Dad’s house was on the other side of the city. It took me two hours by bus to get there. When I arrived, the front door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open gently. The living room was quiet. Only the dim flickering light from the television illuminated the space. Dad was crashed on the sectional, watching an old Bruce Lee movie. He was in sweats, his hair a mess, looking completely burnt out. Strangely, the volume was muted. He didn’t notice me until I walked directly in front of the TV, blocking his view. “Oh. Jordan. You’re here.” “Why is the sound off?” I asked. Dad pointed toward my brother’s room. “Dylan is working on his college essays. I didn’t want to distract him.” I nodded and sat on the far end of the sectional. On the screen, Bruce Lee was kicking and punching his way through a crowd, but without the sound effects, it just looked ridiculous. Dad turned his head to look at me, and his eyes immediately locked onto my left cheek. “What happened to your face?” “Who hit you?” His expression shifted instantly from exhaustion to raw fury. “I went to Mom for graduation dues and AP fees, and she…” Before I could finish the sentence, Dad was on his feet, grabbing his phone and dialing a number. “Hello? Sarah? Are you out of your mind?” The second the call connected, Dad started roaring: “You actually hit Jordan? She’s a kid! How could you lay a hand on her?” On the other end of the line, Mom’s shrill voice came through the speaker. I couldn’t make out the words, but I could tell she was screaming back. “What do you mean I haven’t fulfilled my duty as a father?” Dad’s voice got even louder. “What kind of mother are you? You won’t even pay your own daughter’s school fees?” “And you have the nerve to talk about me? Look at how you’ve spoiled Chloe. She’s totally useless.” “At least Dylan is responsible, unlike your child…” Their shouting match escalated rapidly. The atmosphere in the living room became thick with tension. Dylan, my younger brother, came running out of his room. “Dad! What are you screaming about? Keep it down!” “Nothing, buddy. Go back to your essays.” Dad quickly covered the phone’s microphone, his tone instantly becoming gentle. But Dylan had already heard enough. “Dad, is that woman calling to bitch at you again?” His voice was filled with venom. When he said “that woman,” he spat the words out. On the other end of the line, Chloe’s sharp voice pierced through: “Dylan Miller, who are you calling ‘that woman’? That’s your mother. Where are your manners?” Dylan snatched the phone out of Dad’s hand and put it on speaker. “Chloe Miller, who do you think you are? You’re a fifth-year senior at a community college. You have no right to lecture me.” “And besides, my Dad divorced your Mom. She isn’t my mother anymore!” Chloe’s voice jumped an octave. “You little punk! Your grades are trash. The only reason you’re even going to college is on an athletic scholarship. You dare talk down to me?” Dylan shot back, sneering. “Oh, big words from someone who is twenty and still taking general ed classes.” “I skipped a grade. I’m seventeen and I’m already getting recruited by D1 schools.” They were screaming at each other, faces red, utterly determined to destroy the other. And I, the leftover daughter, the entire reason this fight started, sat there like an outsider, watching the war raging around me. What a pathetic family. After the divorce, each parent took their favorite child and treated the other’s like a disease. Chloe and Dylan had always hated each other, competing for attention since they were little. After the divorce, it became open warfare. This fight wasn’t about me. Not really. They were arguing to prove their own parenting was superior. To prove their chosen child was more successful. Finally, Chloe and Dylan, as if by agreement, both declared they were going to crush the other in life. “I’m going to make so much more money than you, just to make my Mom proud!” “Hilarious. I’m going to be a pro athlete and make you look like a complete failure just to honor my Dad!” The air between them crackled with the intense need to win. After hanging up, Dylan immediately turned to Dad to show his loyalty. “Dad, I’m going back to study.” “I promise I’m going to get into a better university than Chloe and her stupid community college, just to make you proud!” Hearing this, Dad’s face immediately relaxed into a satisfied smile. “That’s my boy. I believe in you.” “You’re talented, you work hard. You’re going to a great school.” Getting his validation, Dylan held his head high and marched back into his room. The living room fell silent again. Dad finally remembered I was sitting there. He turned to look at me, his expression flat. There was none of the gentle warmth he showed Dylan, and none of the fury he directed at Chloe. Just a flat, dismissive indifference. “Right. You need money for school fees.” I watched him pick up his phone and tap the screen a few times. “I just Venmoed you the other half.” I checked the amount. It was the exact other fifty percent. Not a penny more, not a penny less. “It’s getting late. Be careful on your way home.” With that, he sat back down on the sectional. And went back to watching his silent Bruce Lee movie. “Okay. I’m leaving.” I said softly, then turned toward the door. There was no sound behind me. No offer for a ride, no concern, not even a simple “bye.” I closed the door gently and stood in the dim, dingy hallway. The motion-sensor light clicked on, blinding me with its harsh white glare. I squinted. I touched my left cheek. It still throbbed. But it didn’t matter. I finally had the money. 05 After paying the dues and AP fees. I was utterly flat broke. But luckily, the school had a program for seniors, providing free breakfast and lunch for the final two weeks of the semester. So, the problem of basic survival was solved. I poured every ounce of energy I had into studying. On the rare occasion the teachers let us use our phones to look up information, I’d catch a glimpse of Chloe’s or Dylan’s Instagram stories. Screenshots of Mom and Dad pampering them, showing off all the “care packages” they were sending to help them get through finals. I glanced at them and immediately closed the app. Right now, I only had one goal. Get the best scores possible. … The four days of AP exams finally ended. The moment I walked out of the final testing room, I felt a crushing weight lift off my shoulders. Every single concept, every formula, every historical date—it was all information I had locked in my head. But my relief didn’t last long. I didn’t have any money, so I immediately went to the local shopping district to look for a part-time job. I got a job as a barista at a coffee shop, working twelve-hour shifts. It was exhausting, but it was cash, and they paid daily. I was satisfied. I worked like that for weeks. Results day was finally here. I was wiping down tables at the coffee shop when my phone rang. It was Dad. “Jordan, the scores come out tomorrow. Chloe and Dylan both think they did pretty well.” “We’re having a big celebratory dinner at a nice restaurant. You should come.” I held the phone, surprised. They were actually inviting me? But then I realized why. If both Chloe and Dylan went and I didn’t, what would the relatives think of them? “Okay. I’ll be there.” The celebration was at a high-end steakhouse. I wore the only nice outfit I owned to the dinner. The private banquet room was full of guests—friends and family. Chloe was wearing an expensive white designer dress, smiling brightly as she greeted everyone. Dylan was in brand-name athletic streetwear, chatting confidently with his friends. And I walked in like an unwelcome party crasher. I found a seat in the far corner, quiet and observant. Chloe and Dylan were already arguing about who did better. “I definitely got higher scores. I took an extra year of classes, my foundation is solid.” “Pfft. I get an athletic point boost, and I’m definitely ten points ahead of you easily.” The relatives laughed at their competitive banter, filling the room with warm energy. “You both probably did amazing!” “Your parents are so lucky to have two brilliant children like you!” Mom and Dad were sitting at different tables, but both had expressions of eager anticipation on their faces. Finally, the time came to check the results. “Let’s go by age. Chloe first!” someone suggested. Chloe confidently walked to the front of the room, inputting her student ID under the watchful eyes of the entire party. A few seconds later, her face completely drained of color. The confidence was instantly replaced by shock, then despair. “What is it?” Mom asked nervously. Chloe’s voice was trembling. “Two… two hundred and twenty.” The room fell dead silent. A 220. Not even high enough to get into most state universities, let alone her goal. It was barely community college level. Dylan immediately burst out laughing. “Hahaha! You took an extra year of classes and got that score?” “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one!” Mom’s face went white, then red, then purple. She looked like she wanted to disappear into the floorboards. She had spent the last hour bragging to the relatives about how smart Chloe was, and now she had been slapped in the face with the truth. Dad was visibly enjoying her humiliation from across the room. “Sarah Miller, look at your precious daughter.” “What’s the point of studying if you don’t have any real brains? She’s just a mindless grind.” “An extra year of classes, and all she got was a ticket to a trade school!” Mom hissed through her teeth. “Save the commentary. Let’s see your son’s scores!” Dylan confidently walked to the front of the room. He entered his student ID, and his expression shifted from confidence to pure, unadulterated joy. “Five hundred and sixty-eight! Almost a hundred points over the state university entrance line!” Dad was ecstatic, slapping Dylan on the shoulder. “That’s my boy! That’s responsible parenting right there!” Mom’s face was terrifying now. She looked ready to storm out. Just then, my aunt’s voice cut through the silence. “Jordan is here too, isn’t she? Let her check her scores.” Every eye in the room suddenly swung toward me. I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs, my palms sweating as I walked slowly to the front of the room and input my student ID. A few seconds later, the results appeared on the screen. Reading & Writing: 800 Math: 800 AP Lit: 5 AP Calc BC: 5 AP Gov: 5 AP Bio: 5 Total SAT: 1600 State Rank: 1 The entire room went dead silent, followed by a burst of confused laughter. “Haha, a 1600? A perfect score? What kind of glitch is this?” “She must have entered the wrong student ID.” “She probably just didn’t get any results and it defaulted to zero or something.” Chloe, seeing that my score was ostensibly lower than hers, smirked with cruel delight. “A perfect zero. Literally the stupidest person in history.” Dylan was practically rolling on the floor with laughter. “Sister, at least you got a two hundred. She got a perfect zero! Hahaha!” The relatives whispered among themselves, their eyes filled with mockery and disdain. Dad and Mom both looked furious, clearly feeling that I had completely humiliated them in front of the family. I stood at the front of the room, enduring their laughter and insults. I knew exactly what this result meant. But I didn’t say a word. I just quietly walked back to my seat in the corner. 06 Dad was immediately surrounded by relatives, everyone begging him to share his secrets of responsible parenting. He made a show of being humble, waving his hands dismissively, but his voice was thick with pride. He kept shooting triumphant glances toward Mom. His entire vibe was screaming, See? I told you I was the successful parent. Watching her ex-husband basking in the glory only made Mom’s fury burn hotter. With no other outlet for her rage, she turned on Chloe, who was shrinking into her chair. She started tearing into her, her voice loud and harsh. “An extra year of classes, and you got a 220? How can I hold my head up in front of these people?” “It’s not even just about Dylan Miller beating you. You can’t even get into a halfway decent university!” Chloe ducked her head, her eyes welling with tears. Hearing Mom lay into Chloe only made Dad even smugger. He cleared his throat, deliberately raising his voice. “Actually, there is no real trick to parenting. The key is to be present and to lead by example.” Everyone nodded in agreement. “Take Dylan. I’ve been cultivating his athletic talent since he was a kid.” “True intelligence is having both physical prowess and mental acuity.” His words were deliberate stabs at Mom’s open wound. Just as the tension was about to reach a breaking point, the double doors to the banquet hall slammed open. Two groups of people entered at the exact same time. The first group was wearing formal business suits, carrying elegant portfolios. I immediately recognized them as university recruitment officers. Dad’s eyes lit up. He practically leaped to his feet, smoothing his suit jacket with an arrogant smirk. “They must be here for Dylan!” Dad’s voice trembled with excitement as he rushed toward the group. “Welcome, officers! You’re here to recruit my son, Dylan Miller, right?” His tone was dripping with arrogance, already imagining the jealous stares of the relatives. However, the lead recruiter looked confused. He glanced down at his notes, his brow furrowed. “Excuse me. We are here to find a student named Miller.” “But…” He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd. “We are looking for Jordan Miller.” The banquet hall fell dead silent. Every head in the room snapped around to look at me in the corner. The relatives who had just been laughing at my “perfect zero” now sat with their mouths hanging open, looking utterly sick. Dad’s triumphant smile froze on his face. He looked ready to choke on his own humiliation. The recruitment officer continued. “Jordan Miller is this year’s state valedictorian.” “A perfect 1600 SAT score and straight fives on all her AP exams. Number one in the entire state.” “We are here to officially invite her to select Stanford!” Hearing that I was the valedictorian, Chloe’s face turned gray. The shred of superiority she had felt thinking I was a failure disintegrated completely. Dylan stared at me, dumbstruck, not knowing what to do. Mom could barely believe her own ears. “The… the state valedictorian?” While everyone was still processing this bombshell, the other group of people, wearing uniforms, spoke up. “Which one of you is Dylan Miller?” Dylan instinctively took a step back, his voice trembling. “I… I am.” Dad, thinking he understood what was happening, wiped his brow and managed a smile as he stepped forward. “And you must be here to invite my son to UC Berkeley, right?” I barely contained a snort of laughter. A 568, and he thinks he’s getting recruited by Berkeley? Does Dad own Berkeley now? Sure enough, the officers pulled out a legal document. “We have received a verified report that Dylan Miller used performance-enhancing drugs during his athletic recruitment evaluations.” “After a thorough investigation, the report has been confirmed.” “His athletic scholarship offer has been rescinded, and his test results have been invalidated. He is required to cooperate with a further investigation into drug use.” Dylan’s face went utterly pale. His legs buckled, and he barely kept his balance. “No… that’s impossible… I didn’t do that.” But the officers already had the evidence. “This is your urine analysis report. The results are positive for prohibited substances.” Mom, hearing this, immediately felt her humiliation from earlier evaporate. She looked at Dad, her eyes gleaming with vengeful delight. “Ha! Mark Miller, you still think you’re a great parent?” “So what if your precious son scored high? He’s a doper. A cheater. Like father, like son!” Dad’s face went purple with rage. The arrogance from moments before vanished completely. He turned on Dylan, snarling as he slapped my brother hard across the face, then backhanded him. “You ungrateful little cheat! You have humiliated me!” “How could you do something so pathetic and disgraceful!” The banquet hall exploded into total chaos. The relatives were whispering furiously, their eyes darting back and forth. “My God, Jordan is the state valedictorian!” “A perfect 1600! That is insane!” “Dylan Miller cheated. How utterly humiliating!” “The three Miller children… they certainly are surprising.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “404105”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My mother is a delicate, high-maintenance socialite. Since I was little, I was always the one taking care of her. Yet, when my father’s mistress came at me with a knife, she didn’t hesitate to throw herself in front of me. When I woke up again, I had returned to being eight years old. She stroked her perfectly manicured nails, ordering me to cook her dinner. I silently prepared a feast of eight dishes and two soups. She was shocked: “Did you poison this?” I placed some food in her bowl and said earnestly, “I approve of you dating Uncle Julian.” 1 Evelyn exploded. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed as she slammed her chopsticks down. “What Julian? What on earth is going on in that head of yours?” Me: “…” I silently handed her a clean pair of chopsticks. She eyed me suspiciously. “You little brat, what kind of trouble did you get into?” I hesitated for a few seconds, then pulled the chopsticks back out of her hand. She nodded, as if her suspicions were confirmed. “I knew it, you’re trying to mess with me.” I opened my arms to her. “Mommy, hug.” Evelyn was clearly startled. She looked at me in bewilderment, her beautiful face full of doubt. After a long moment, she poked my cheek with her long nail. “What are you mumbling about? Go make me another bowl of bird’s nest soup.” My lip trembled. I wanted to cry. She froze, frantically pulling out a few tissues and tossing them at my face. “W-what are you doing? Are you trying to guilt-trip me?” Just then, the heavy front door of the mansion opened. A tall, slender man stood in the doorway, backlit by the evening sun. The sounds in the room instantly ceased. I looked at him quietly for a good while before opening my mouth: “Dad.” Evelyn glanced at the man, snatched the chopsticks back from my hand, and casually began to eat. The man walked in coldly, heading toward the study on the second floor. As he passed the dining table, his steps faltered slightly. “You don’t need to go to the banquet tonight.” Smack. The chopsticks were slammed onto the table. Evelyn let out a cold laugh. “Then who are you planning to take?” My mother is breathtakingly beautiful. Before she married, she was a famous, dazzling beauty in our elite social circle. After marriage, her beauty didn’t diminish by a single fraction. Her natural looks, combined with meticulous maintenance, made her even more captivating. Even when she was angry, she oozed charm. But even so, my father’s gaze hadn’t lingered on her for a long time. The man frowned slightly. Without answering her question, he continued his steady pace up to the second floor. As the study door clicked shut, Evelyn threw her chopsticks away too. The next second, she stood up, ready to flip the table. I watched her in silence, and at the very last second, she stopped. Evelyn pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and smiled with an ambiguous expression. “You’re about to get a new mom soon. Are you happy?” I stared at her for two seconds, then stepped forward and pinched her cigarette out. She was completely stunned. Then she let out a shriek. “Are you crazy? Why did you pinch my cigarette?!” She grabbed my hand; my fingertips were blistered and red. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out her phone to call the family doctor. After hanging up, she gritted her teeth. “I swear to God, have you been watching too many cartoons? Do you think you’re made of iron?” I whispered, “You shouldn’t smoke. It’s bad for your health. And if you smoke too much, you won’t be pretty anymore.” Evelyn’s eyes filled with a complex emotion as she went to find an ice pack. She scoffed, “Even if your mother were ten times uglier, there still wouldn’t be a woman better-looking than her. Got it?” Enduring the pain, I looked at her quietly. I thought so too. Everyone in our circle thought so too. But my father just had to fall in love with a girl by his side who was merely plain-looking. Those “uncles” would gossip behind his back: “The Sterling family married such a beautiful wife, yet Arthur doesn’t cherish her. That’s the great Evelyn Hayes! How many men wanted to marry her back then but couldn’t?” But after saying that, they would always add, “I guess the flowers at home just don’t smell as sweet as the wild ones. Plus, Evelyn has had a kid and isn’t as young anymore. It’s understandable, I suppose.” When their kids secretly told me this at first, I couldn’t understand what it meant. I only heard my father’s and mother’s names, so I repeated it word for word to my mother. Evelyn’s expression remained unchanged. She just rolled her eyes. “You’re so young and you already know how to listen to gossip. You really have a limitless future. If you have this much free time, go learn some more vocabulary words.” But whenever I walked away, she would lock herself in her room, secretly smoking and drinking. The next day, she would act as if nothing happened, book a beauty appointment, and ask the kitchen to make health tonics. After that, I never repeated those words to her again. 2 “What are you arguing about?” Arthur stood on the second floor, looking down imperiously. Evelyn shot him a glance and applied the ice pack to my hand. It hurt so much I inhaled sharply. Arthur’s gaze moved from my hand to the cigarette butt on the floor. His expression was cold. “You can’t even take care of a child?” Evelyn looked annoyed. “You put yourself on such a high pedestal. Just get lost.” Suddenly, she paused. “That finale necklace at the auction a couple of days ago… was that you bidding against me?” Arthur met her eyes. She smiled sarcastically. “You didn’t know? Your little mistress is already parading around wearing it.” “She’s not my mistress,” Arthur said, his lips pressing into a thin line, looking displeased. “Uh-huh, she’s your true love.” She waved a hand dismissively. “Wishing you both a long and happy life together.” Arthur let out a breath and slowly descended the stairs. “You’re still coming with me tonight.” As if expecting this, Evelyn chuckled softly. She slowly draped an arm over his shoulder and exhaled a breath near his ear. “Beg me, Mr. Sterling.” Arthur took a step back, his body tensing slightly. He warned, “The child is right here. Don’t mess around.” She let out a bored “oh” and turned to me. “Go upstairs. The doctor will be in your room in a minute.” Just as I closed my bedroom door, I heard the sound of a vase shattering outside. I sat at my desk and opened my diary from memory. The eight-year-old me had a very poor relationship with Ms. Evelyn Hayes. I grew up lacking fatherly love and hardly felt any motherly love either. While other kids were being held and coaxed, I was already fetching tea and water for my mother. She never managed my daily life; she elegantly dressed herself every day, doing her hair, getting her nails done, and going to beauty treatments. Occasionally, her maternal instincts would kick in, and she’d read me skincare tips. Whenever a parent was required to attend an event, it was always Grandpa Alfred, the butler, who went. Later, I often thought that my existence was unwelcome. I wasn’t the child of the woman my father loved. Perhaps my mother also frequently regretted having me, as my birth had taken a toll on her body. … I flipped to the last page of the diary. [Leo asked me to hang out the day after tomorrow. I want to go, but Uncle Julian will be there too. I hate Uncle Julian. He always looks at Mom with a weird expression.] As a sixteen-year-old reading what my eight-year-old self wrote, my feelings were quite complicated. Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I cleared my throat. “Come in.” Evelyn walked in, followed by the family doctor, who opened his medical kit to bandage me up. Evelyn comfortably sat on my bed. She paused. “Do you want to go to the banquet tonight? Your grandparents said they want to see you. It’s fine if you don’t go; it’s a mixed crowd there.” I pondered. Uncle Julian would be there too. I had to go and scout the situation. I nodded. “I’ll go.” Evelyn shrugged. “Up to you.” After the doctor finished, Evelyn was about to leave to prepare her gown. Watching her slender back, I couldn’t help but say, “Mom.” She stopped in her tracks, uncomfortably rubbing the goosebumps that had popped up on her arms. “…What is it?” I said pitifully, “I don’t have a suitable dress.” Evelyn loved luxurious, exquisite dresses, but I only cared about comfort, wearing T-shirts and shorts to every occasion. Moreover, I never let her pick my clothes; I only liked wearing bright, clashing colors—reds and greens. Evelyn turned around in shock, looking as if she had seen a ghost. “Really? You really want to wear a dress?” She came over, felt my forehead, and muttered, “You don’t have a fever either.” My lip trembled, ready to cry again. “All the other kids have pretty dresses, but I don’t!” She looked at me in bewilderment. “Y-you can’t blame me for that. Every time I tried to dress you, you’d get mad.” So eventually, she gave up and let me wear whatever I wanted. “I don’t care, I want a dress!” I wiped away a tear. She had never seen me like this before. She was stunned for a moment. “Fine, I’ll have someone prepare one. But I’m telling you right now, you have to wear little leather shoes with it, no sneakers allowed. Tsk, stop crying…” 3 I sat next to my grandmother, watching Evelyn holding Arthur’s arm. The surroundings were noisy and bustling. Her long, wavy hair cascaded down her back. Wearing a red mermaid gown, she was dazzlingly radiant. In stark contrast to her brilliant smile, Arthur looked much colder. My grandmother cast a calm glance over there before retracting her gaze. Turning to me, she pinched my cheek. “Our little Riley is finally willing to wear a dress. She’s growing up.” My grandfather looked over with a stern expression. He shook his head. “This is how a young lady should be. Evelyn loves dressing herself up but doesn’t put any effort into her daughter.” My grandmother agreed. “Exactly. I’ve told her so many times to get Riley a proper outfit, but she just won’t listen.” I piped up weakly, “Grandpa, Grandma, I was the one who didn’t like wearing dresses.” My grandfather scoffed coldly. “That’s still because she didn’t raise you right.” I was taken aback and wanted to argue back. Just then, someone poked my arm. I turned my head and was surprised. “Leo…” Leo smiled brightly and greeted them. “Hello, Grandpa, Grandma. Hi, Riley.” My grandmother smiled. “What a good boy.” I followed Leo to a corner to eat desserts. He stuffed a small cupcake into my mouth and then accused me: “Why didn’t you come to the amusement park yesterday?” Me: “…” I scratched my head. “I got into a fight with my mom.” He paused, then said slowly, “Oh, I guess that’s understandable.” Leo had a head of obedient brown hair, red lips, and white teeth. Wearing a small suit, he looked quite cute in his seriousness. I stared at him. In my previous life, during the eight years that followed, Leo and I became absolute enemies. I thought his dad coveted my mom, so I never gave him a good look. He always mocked me for dressing ugly and said I was missing a few brain cells. But looking back now, those days of constant bickering were some of the few colorful moments in my life. I grabbed his hand and asked deeply, “Do you think I dress ugly?” Leo took a step back, stammering, “Huh? Today… today you look pretty good.” I shook my head. “What about before?” He fell silent. The quiet corner formed a stark contrast to the noise elsewhere. I sniffled, my eyes turning red. “They all say I’m an ugly duckling, that they don’t like me, that I’m not as pretty as my mom…” He hurriedly pulled me close. “Who said that? You look great! You’re the prettiest!” “Really? I look great every day?” I asked. He nodded, then after a moment, he awkwardly scratched his cheek. “Yeah, they’re just talking nonsense. Tell me who said that, and I’ll go settle the score with them.” I paused. Way too many people had said that. From my childhood to adolescence, countless people had compared me to Evelyn, saying I wasn’t as pretty as she was when she was little, that I hadn’t inherited her beauty, that I wasn’t cut out to be a stunner. But… why did they have to compare me to other people? Why did they have to compare me to my mother? I sighed. I stuffed a small cupcake into Leo’s mouth too. Suddenly. A commotion broke out nearby. I saw that gentle girl in a white dress accidentally spill a glass of red wine onto Evelyn’s midsection. Both dresses were ruined. Everyone knew this was the girl’s petty trick, but Arthur didn’t stand by his wife’s side. My grandparents only blamed their daughter-in-law, who had no blood ties to them. I gritted my teeth in anger. Just as I was about to step forward, Leo grabbed my hand. I saw a man unhurriedly step into the center of the vortex. Wearing a low-key but luxurious silver-grey suit, he lazily raised an eyebrow. “Miss Hayes’s dress has been completely ruined by you.” The girl’s face paled slightly as she hid behind Arthur. She said softly, “Mr. Julian, her dress is red, mine is white…” The implication was that the stain on her dress should be more obvious. “Who spilled the wine? Do we need to check the security cameras?” Julian chuckled. Arthur’s eyes were icy. “This is my family’s business. It has nothing to do with you.” Julian’s expression froze slightly. I gritted my teeth and pulled Leo forward. The crowd parted to make way for us. I articulated clearly and crisply: “Leo and I have sworn an oath of brotherhood; he’s my brother now. That makes Uncle Julian my godfather!” I nudged Leo, who immediately nodded. “That’s right!” A dead silence fell over the room. Only Julian’s lips curled up slightly. With one hand in his suit pocket, he said, “Did you hear that? Now Miss Hayes’s business is my family’s business too.” The onlookers all gasped. Arthur’s face instantly darkened a few shades. “Godfather?” Leo and I nodded solemnly in unison. “Pfft.” Evelyn, who hadn’t spoken until now, let out a laugh. Her red lips curved; she seemed genuinely amused by us. But she didn’t refute it. Arthur reached out and grabbed Evelyn’s wrist, pulling her to his side. His joy or anger was indiscernible, but the hostility radiating from him was barely suppressed. “Miss Hayes? Mr. Julian, you should be addressing her as Mrs. Sterling.” “You sure like to manage things,” Julian said with a laid-back tone. He then turned and instructed a waiter, “Take Miss Hayes to change her dress.” Arthur didn’t let go. Evelyn looked at him with a half-smile. “Husband, aren’t you going to let go?” The girl hiding behind Arthur whispered, “Mr. Sterling, my dress is stained too.” A shadow fell over Arthur’s brow. After a long moment, he finally released his grip. Then he turned and personally escorted the girl to the lounge. The farce ended, and the subtle crowd of onlookers dispersed. Only Leo, Uncle Julian, and I remained standing there. I looked up. Julian happened to look down, his peach-blossom eyes gazing at me with unreadable emotion. Right at that moment, a waiter bowed slightly beside me. “The old madam requests your presence.” I froze for a moment, then turned my head to meet my grandmother’s stern gaze. Leo pulled me back. “Don’t go.” I shook my head. 4 “You’re deliberately trying to embarrass your father!” My grandmother was so angry she slapped me hard on the back. “Where are your manners as a young lady?” He wasn’t embarrassed; the one who was embarrassed was my mother. I said quietly, “Grandma, who is that woman? Why didn’t dad blame her when she spilled red wine on mom’s dress?” My grandmother frowned. “Your father is the head of the corporation; naturally, he has the capacity to be tolerant of others.” I didn’t say anything more. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Julian holding a wine glass, downing one drink after another. I had heard that back then, everyone thought my mom and Julian would end up together, but they ultimately fell one step short. Julian remained unmarried to this day, and Leo, who was under his name, was adopted from a relative. I stroked my chin thoughtfully. Just then, I saw Leo sneaking off toward a certain area. I immediately wanted to follow him. But my grandmother grabbed me firmly, displeased. “Don’t run around. Sit here and be good.” “I need to go to the bathroom!” I bolted out of there like lightning. I followed Leo all the way to the lounge. He didn’t notice me as he hid quietly by the crack of the door. Voices drifted from inside the lounge. Evelyn said lazily, “Back then, you said your family was struggling, so I recommended you to the company. I was a benefactor to you. Was there really a need to make such a scene at this kind of occasion?” There was a moment of silence inside, then that soft voice replied, “It’s Mr. Sterling who is my benefactor. He promoted me to secretary, and my salary is several times higher than my previous position.” Evelyn smiled. “Fine. You have love and money. What are you missing? The position of Mrs. Sterling?” There was no answer from inside. After a long while. “I’m pregnant,” the girl said softly. “Evelyn, you don’t lack anything. Just let me have him. I don’t want my child to be born without a father.” There was the sound of a coat rack crashing down; my mom probably kicked it over. Seeing that Evelyn had finally lost control, the girl’s smile carried a hint of genuine satisfaction as she continued: “I’ve had it checked; it’s a boy. Mr. Sterling and I are both very much looking forward to his birth. He’s even bought a lot of baby things in advance.” A crisp, sharp slap rang out, and the girl sighed. “Go ahead and hit me. In the end, Mr. Sterling is the one who will feel sorry for me.” Her gentle voice could no longer hide her smugness: “Miss Hayes, when you looked down on me with your charity back then, did you ever imagine that one day you’d be dragging your daughter out of the Sterling family in disgrace?” I clutched the hem of my dress tightly. Suddenly, a flash of white light went off in my brain. Wait a minute. She was never pregnant! If she were truly pregnant, and with a boy, let alone her getting a title, my grandmother would absolutely never let her grandson be an illegitimate child. My expression hardened. Then I locked eyes with Leo. He stumbled back two steps, not realizing I was right next to him. Leo was silent for a few seconds, then whispered awkwardly in my ear to comfort me: “It’s okay. If your mom really doesn’t want you, I’ll have my dad adopt you too. I won’t let you be homeless.” I froze, then grabbed his hand, deeply moved. “Thank you.” His fingers curled slightly. Suddenly, a tall, slender shadow fell over us. “What are you two doing?” Arthur looked down coldly. I jumped in fright and managed an awkward smile. “Dad, we were worried about Mom, so we came to check.” “We?” Arthur let out a cold laugh. He grabbed me by the back of my collar and lifted me up. “Stay away from this kid.” Leo gritted his teeth, turned around, and ran off. The door opened. The girl, with a red handprint on her cheek, threw herself into Arthur’s arms. She didn’t speak; she just sobbed. Evelyn stood inside, wearing a half-smile. As soon as she saw me, she immediately put out her cigarette. Me: “…” Arthur frowned and asked Evelyn, “Did you hit her?” Evelyn threw him a lazy glance. “I’d worry about hurting my hand if I hit her.” For some reason, the previously calm look on Arthur’s brow darkened a few shades. The girl looked incredulous. “What did you say? You were the one who hit me…” “Enough,” Arthur cut her off coldly. “Since you don’t want to stay here, I’ll have someone take you back.” With that, he signaled the bodyguards to take the girl away. The sound of sobbing continued, growing fainter and fainter. Arthur took a few steps closer to Evelyn, his voice devoid of emotion. “Satisfied?” Evelyn stared at him for two seconds, the fake smile completely vanishing from her face. After a long moment, she scoffed at herself. “You make me sick.” With that, she pushed past Arthur, her high heels clicking as she walked out. She was still wearing the mermaid gown stained with wine. Arthur’s back was to the door, so I couldn’t see his expression.

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After I was forced to drop out of school, I took a job at a late-night boba shop called The Steep. It was ten minutes to closing when she walked in. She was stunning—the kind of girl who looked like she belonged in a high-end editorial, not a sticky-floored shop in a fading part of town. She didn’t look at the menu. She just looked at me and ordered twenty large iced matches with extra sea-salt foam. As I opened my mouth to tell her we were nearly out of supplies, a voice—sharp, clear, and definitely not hers—echoed in my brain: [The Lucky Break System says the Hero of this story is the guy working at the boba shop tonight.] [Heh. So this is my future husband, huh?] [God, help me. How is he even handsome when he’s just… breathing?] My fingers froze on the touch screen. My heart sank, hitting a cold, hollow depth. The person supposed to be working tonight wasn’t me. It was my co-worker who had begged me to cover his shift. She had found the right place, but she was looking at the wrong man. 01 I pretended I couldn’t hear the frantic, adoring monologue running through her head. “We don’t have enough foam for twenty drinks,” I said, my voice flat. More importantly, it takes three minutes to pull a decent drink. Twenty drinks meant sixty minutes. I was alone, the prep kitchen was a mess, and I was exactly ten minutes away from catching the last bus home. For a guy working for minimum wage, a twenty-drink order at 10:50 PM is a special kind of hell. The girl blinked, looking slightly dazed. “Oh. Then… just one?” I nodded. “Five-fifty. Tap whenever you’re ready.” Externally, she was the picture of cool composure. Internally, she was screaming. […You blew it, Susie. First impression? Total disaster. You’re annoying your future husband.] [System, if you’re listening, I’m going to delete you. I swear.] 02 Susie. So that was her name. It suited her—bright and out of reach. I gripped the cocktail shaker, my pulse thrumming in my wrists. I felt a sudden, sharp spike of anxiety. The guy who should have been behind this counter was Bennet. Ten minutes before my shift ended, Bennet had offered me fifty bucks to stay an extra half hour so he could sneak out to a party. I’d said yes because fifty bucks was three days of groceries. I didn’t say a word. I just started making her drink. Three minutes is usually nothing. Tonight, it felt like an eternity. Susie didn’t look at her phone. She watched me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. She looked like a frozen ice queen, but the commentary was relentless. [He looks so tired. His arms must ache from shaking those drinks all day.] [I want to help… but I’d probably just break something. I’m useless.] [System, say something! You told me to save him, to be his ‘salvation.’ How am I supposed to do that if I can’t even get him to look at me?] […Great. The System is ghosting me again.] I sealed the cup and slid it across the counter. “Here you go.” Susie stood up instantly. “Thank you.” When she took the bag, her fingers brushed mine. She jolted as if she’d been shocked. [His hands are freezing. I need to bring him a heater. Or a coat. Or just… hold them.] [Wait, ‘next time’? Is there even going to be a next time?] I looked at her. In the harsh fluorescent light of the shop, her features were sharp and perfect. She was beautiful, but there was a certain vacuousness to her expression—the look of a rich girl who had never had to solve a problem more complex than a broken nail. “Are you… working tomorrow?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. Her mind was a riot: [Please say yes please say yes please say yes!] I hesitated for two seconds. Then, I looked her in the eye. “Yeah,” I said. I forced a small, gentle smile—the kind I knew people found disarming. “See you tomorrow, Susie.” She froze. She hadn’t told me her name. She stumbled toward the door, nodding like a broken doll, her limbs moving in a clumsy, uncoordinated rhythm. As the door clicked shut, her final thought drifted back to me like a radio signal fading out: [Oh my god, he has a dimple. He’s so cute I might actually die.] [Wait—did he just call me Susie? How did he—] [Whatever! He said see you tomorrow! He doesn’t hate me!] [Husband is the best!] I narrowed my eyes and ran out the door after her. “Hey!” I shouted at her retreating back. “Do you want to exchange numbers? In case… you know, we run out of matcha again.” Susie turned around, her eyes igniting with a sudden, brilliant light. “Yes!” 03 It was nearly midnight by the time I got back to the house. I saw a text from my father and felt the familiar weight of dread settle in my stomach. I climbed out of the basement and trudged up to the third floor. The keypad code had been changed—again. I knocked. My father opened the door, his face obscured by the shadows of the hallway. “You’ve been working for a month now. How is it?” “Exhausting,” I said shortly. He let out a derisive snort. “Now you know how hard your mother and I have it. It’s time you grew up.” I didn’t answer. I was staring past him into the hallway. My old bedroom door was open. It had been repainted a soft, pastel blue. It was a nursery now for the baby my stepmother had given him. Since I wasn’t talking, my father got to the point. “Your brother is starting his intensive prep for the Art Institute. Those portfolios and tutors are expensive, Cole. You’re making your own money now. It’s time you started contributing to the family.” “How much?” I interrupted. I was too tired for the lecture. He blinked, surprised by how quickly I’d folded. “Five hundred a week.” I felt the blood drain from my face. I made about seven hundred a week at the shop. He wanted nearly all of it. “You live here for free,” he snapped, sensing my resistance. “You eat our food. What else do you need money for?” Free? I lived in a damp, unfinished basement next to the furnace. And the ‘food’ was whatever leftovers my stepmother didn’t throw away. But I didn’t argue. I didn’t have the energy. “Fine.” He softened, a patronizing smirk touching his lips. “Your brother has real talent, Cole. He’s going places. You… well, you were never great at school anyway. Dropping out was the best thing for everyone. No point in having resentment about it.” I bit my tongue until I tasted copper. I retreated down the stairs to the basement. It was dark, cold, and smelled of mildew. But it had a twin mattress and a salvaged desk. For now, it was enough. 04 The next day, Bennet was already in his apron when I arrived. He gave me a lopsided grin. “Thanks for yesterday, Cole. I really needed that break.” “No problem.” “Anything happen? Any crazy customers?” I paused, my hand hovering over my locker. “Nothing.” My phone buzzed. A message from Susie: When can I come see you? I glanced at the schedule. Bennet was off at 9:00 PM. I texted her back: 10:00 PM. At ten sharp, Susie appeared. She looked like a million dollars in a silk trench coat. [He looked at me! He looked at me!] [Is this outfit too much? I should have worn the blue dress.] [Wait, he’s not smiling. Is he mad? System! Answer me! What do I do?!] I finished my closing tasks and walked out from behind the counter. Susie followed me like a shy shadow. “You want me to walk you to your car?” I asked, playing the part. She tried to sound casual. “Sure. It’s… a little sketchy around here at night. Safety first, right?” Her inner voice was doing backflips: [Nice one, Susie. High-five. He offered! This is basically a date!] I kept my face perfectly still. “Right.” 05 For the next six weeks, Susie was there every night at ten. Cool face. Burning heart. [New shirt. He looks incredible in navy.] [He smiled at me. He’s so sweet. I can’t breathe.] [Wait, is he playing hard to get? Is he ghosting me emotionally?] [Whatever. I’d let him ghost me any day. My husband can do no wrong!] I had to suppress a laugh every time I handed her a drink. She ordered something different every night—lychee black tea, taro slush, lemon zest. Her thoughts explained why: [I have to try the whole menu so when he asks me what I like, I can say ‘everything you make.’ I am a literal genius.] [Oh god. I think I love him more than I did yesterday.] I nearly spilled the milk foam. Who was this girl? She sounded like she’d stepped straight out of a cheesy romance novel. But then I looked into her eyes. They were bright, focused, and utterly devoted. For a moment, my heart actually skipped. It felt… good. To be someone’s entire world, even if it was based on a lie. But what happens when she finds out I’m not her “Hero”? I gripped the counter until my knuckles turned white. Susie noticed my tension. Her ears turned pink. “It’s late,” she said softly. “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite?” I shook my head. “I’m exhausted. I just want to go home.” She nodded, her disappointment palpable. I looked at the clock. It was time. I needed to see if she was the “salvation” the System promised. As we walked toward the parking lot, Susie suddenly stopped. “Actually… my power is out. Some transformer blew in my neighborhood. I don’t want to sit in the dark alone. Can I… can I stay at your place tonight?” She looked perfectly calm. Inside, she was screaming: [AAAAAAH I SAID IT!] [If he says yes, we’re moving at light speed! I’m going to see his bedroom!] [Wait, no, he looks so tired. I’m a monster. I shouldn’t bother him…] I fought back a smile. “Sure,” I said. “If you don’t mind a basement.” 06 The walk to the basement was long and dark. Susie walked close to me, her shoulder occasionally brushing mine. She talked about her school, her friends, her life. She was a senior in high school. If my father hadn’t pulled me out, I would have been in the same grade. I felt a sharp pang of envy, but I buried it deep. She went quiet as we reached the rusted iron door of the cellar entrance. “We’re here,” I said. Susie froze. She looked at the rusted door, then at the overgrown weeds, then back at me. Her throat moved as she swallowed. [A basement? He lives in a literal dungeon?] [How can anyone live here? It’s damp, it’s dark… is this where he sleeps every night?] [No wonder his hands are always cold.] [Dammit.] I didn’t say anything. I just waited. I opened the door to reveal the peeling wallpaper, the single twin bed, and the flickering lightbulb. I poured her a glass of tap water. “You asked why I’m not in school. I’ll tell you.” I told her everything—but I framed it. I told her about the stepmother, the brother who took everything, the father who saw me as a paycheck. I let a single, perfect tear fall at the exact right moment. I played the part of the tragic, resilient hero perfectly. She was silent for a long time. But her thoughts were a storm of fury: [I want to put his stepbrother in the hospital.] [System, give me God Mode. Just for ten minutes. I’ll burn that house down.] I kept my head down, my shoulders shaking slightly. [He’s crying. What do I do? Should I hug him? Is that too much? But he’s so sad!] [System, you useless piece of trash! Tell me how to comfort a boy!] Finally, she whispered, “Cole… do you want to go back to school?” I looked up and gave her a truly genuine smile. Not the fake one. A real one. “More than anything.” 07 I learned young that the only way to get what you want is to take it. People called it selfish. I called it survival. I knew from day one that Susie was loaded. The car that dropped her off was a quarter-million-dollar Mercedes. Her necklace cost more than my father’s house. So I played her. I kept her at arm’s length to keep her hooked. I hid the fact that Bennet was the one she was supposed to “save.” I was a thief. I was stealing someone else’s destiny. I felt a flicker of guilt, so I tried to be “good” to Bennet. I covered his shifts, I bought him lunch. Bennet told me I was his best friend. I told him we weren’t. Bonds are fragile things. If you don’t let people in, it doesn’t hurt as much when they leave. 08 Susie’s “System” might have been a glitch, but her money was very real. Two weeks later, I was enrolled in a prestigious private academy. My tuition was fully covered. I knew she had pulled strings I didn’t even know existed. Now, we saw each other at school instead of the boba shop. She was a junior; I was a senior. Every afternoon, she’d find me in the library, claiming she needed to “study.” In reality, she just sat there staring at me. [He looks so handsome when he’s focused.] [He’s sitting so close today. I can smell his laundry detergent. It’s intoxicating.] [Focus, Susie! You’re going to fail trig.] [Whatever. It’s worth it.] I tried to focus on my prep books, but the air between us felt thick. She asked me to move out of the basement. I told her no—not yet. If I left, my father would hunt me down. I needed to finish the year first. 09 I lived on borrowed time, praying the lie would last just a little longer. But a week later, the signal went dead. I couldn’t hear Susie’s thoughts anymore. Instead, a strange, translucent scrolling text appeared in the air before my eyes—like a live chat on a video stream: [WTF? This guy is such a snake.] [I’m done. This random NPC is literally gaslighting the female lead into thinking he’s the hero. Has he no shame?] [He’s a thief. Plain and simple.] [Thank God the System update is finished. All bugs are patched.] [Finally! Now the real Hero can hear her thoughts, and this loser can go back to the gutter where he belongs.] I stared at the floating words, paralyzed. That was why Susie hadn’t come to find me all day. The “glitch” was fixed. The destiny had been recalibrated. I wanted to scream at the floating text. I wanted to tell them they were wrong. But they weren’t. I was a thief. Except for one thing. The “NPC” comment. I wasn’t just some background character. I had a life. I had a story. I had been happy once. 10 I remember being ten. My parents moved us to the city to give me a better education. We lived in a tiny apartment, but it was full of light. On hot summer nights, my mom and dad would sit on either side of my bed, fanning me with cardboard signs until I fell asleep. Then, things got “better.” My dad got a promotion. My mom got a raise. They bought a house. I got into a top-tier middle school. Then came the bullying. In eighth grade, a group of boys targeted me. I went to my father. He stood up for me at first. He went to the school. But the mother of the lead bully cried. She was a single mother. She begged my father not to report her son, saying it would ruin his life. My father looked at her, and he softened. He dropped the charges. “We have to be compassionate, Cole,” he told me as we walked out. “She’s had a hard life. We can’t be selfish.” What about me? I had cigarette burns on my collarbone that would never go away. Was I not worth “ruining” someone for? I stayed quiet to keep the peace. But then my father started coming home late. He and my mom fought constantly. Then came the truth: my father was having an affair with that woman. The bully’s mother. My mom found out. She left the house in a rage. My father chased after her. The next morning, the police found her in the river. My mom was dead. My father remarried within the year. The bully became my “brother.” The “single mother” became my stepmother. They didn’t join our family; they erased mine. My grandfather tried to take me away, but he died in a tractor accident on the way to get me. My grandmother took me in for two years until she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. To save me from the burden of her death, she gave me her life savings and chased me away. “Go, Cole,” she whispered, her hand trembling in mine. “Go to school. Become someone. Don’t rely on anyone but yourself.” She drank pesticides the day after I left. She died at the graves of my mother and grandfather. 11 After school that day, I didn’t wait for Susie. I walked home alone. The basement felt smaller than usual. Darker. My father sent a text demanding his five hundred dollars. I turned off my phone. I studied until my eyes burned. I tried to forget the floating text, forget the girl, forget the stolen light. But then, a soft knock came at the cellar door. My father didn’t knock softly. He kicked. He pounded. It was Susie. I opened the door. She stood in the shadows, her expression unreadable. “Cole,” she said. Her voice was cold. “You’re hiding from me.”

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My father brought home a stray. A secret son, a bastard—whatever you wanted to call him. He had this way of being perfectly submissive, always wearing a sweet, hollow smile and calling me “big sister” as if it were a title of devotion. But behind my back, he was a gatekeeper of the most violent kind. He made sure no one else could get close to me. Any young man from a decent family who dared to get engaged to me ended up ruined—maimed in accidents, or rotting in a prison cell. When the truth finally came out—that I wasn’t even the true daughter of the Blackwood estate—I took the chance to vanish. I changed my name, moved across the country, and rebuilt my life from the ground up. Seven years passed before I heard a whisper of that world again. My father was dead, and Darren had returned to the States to claim the empire. The day it happened, I pulled up to my small house and saw a sleek, black sedan parked in the driveway. A man was leaning against the driver’s side door, draped in a long, dark wool coat. In the twilight, he looked like a shadow carved out of the rain itself. He tilted his head when he saw me, a slow, familiar smile spreading across his face. “Elena. It’s pouring. Why didn’t you bring an umbrella?” 1 I looked at him, my blood turning to ice. “What the hell are you doing here, Darren?” He looked down at me, his voice dangerously soft. “You haven’t been home in seven years.” “That house has nothing to do with me. Not anymore. Why would I go back?” I pushed past him, marching toward my front door. I managed to get inside, but as I tried to slam the door shut, he moved with a speed that shouldn’t have been human. He shoved his hand into the closing gap. I heard the sickening crunch of wood against bone, but he didn’t even flinch. He just waited for me to recoil in shock, then pushed the door wide and stepped inside as if he’d been invited. “Are you insane?” I gasped, staring at his hand. Four of his fingers were already beginning to swell, the skin turning a deep, angry purple where the door had crushed them. Blood began to seep from under his nails. Darren barely glanced at the injury. Instead, he just stared at me, his eyes bright with a terrifying kind of joy. “Elena, aren’t you going to ask me to sit down?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He closed the door behind him, locking us in. He followed me into the living room, his gaze sweeping over my modest furniture with a clinical, judging eye. His eyes snagged on the entryway—specifically, on the two pairs of matching slippers sitting on the shoe rack. The smile on his face didn’t drop, but it stiffened, turning into something brittle and sharp. “You have a boyfriend?” “That’s none of your business.” “Why? Do I need to take care of him, too? The way I handled those boys back home?” He tilted his head, studying me for a long time. For a fleeting second, he looked almost… hurt. “You’re still the same, Elena,” he whispered. “You always knew exactly how to make me angry, and you always did it on purpose.” He stood up, adjusting his coat, and began to walk toward me. His steps were slow and rhythmic, the sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor echoing like a countdown. I backed away, step by step, until my spine hit the cold plaster of the wall. Darren stopped inches from me. He leaned in, his warm breath ghosting over the shell of my ear, sending a shudder of pure, primal fear down my neck. “Come home with me, Elena,” he murmured, his voice like a ghost story. I trembled violently. I looked down at his hand—the crushed one—now wrapped tightly around my wrist. His skin was freezing. Then, the doorbell rang. Darren’s brow furrowed in annoyance, but he didn’t let go. A moment later, the smart lock clicked. A man in a dark blue windbreaker—a detective’s badge clipped to his belt—stepped into the foyer. Nate shook his umbrella out into the stand, kicked off his boots, and slid into his slippers. He walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa right next to us as if he owned the place. “Oh, I didn’t realize we had company. Sorry, El. Work ran late—just finished wrapping up a case.” He set a paper bag of takeout on the coffee table and gave Darren a pleasant, empty smile. “Elena didn’t tell me we were expecting anyone. I only brought enough dinner for two.” Darren’s expression smoothed into something deceptively gentle. He looked at the takeout, then at Nate, then back at me. His eyes were like deep, dark wells—the kind you could fall into and never find the bottom of. He stared at me for a long, quiet moment, a small, dark laugh bubbling up in his throat. “It’s fine,” Darren said softly. “It’s late. I shouldn’t intrude. I was just leaving.” He turned to go, but as he reached for the doorknob, he paused. He looked back at Nate, his eyes sparkling with a mock-friendly light. “By the way,” Darren said, “she hates the smell of cigarettes. You should probably quit while you’re ahead.” 2 The second the door clicked shut, Nate let out a long whistle. “So that’s the ‘brother’ you told me about? The obsessive one?” He made a face of pure disgust. “Being in the same room as that guy made my skin crawl. You know the only type of person that gives a cop that feeling?” “What?” I asked, my heart still hammering against my ribs. “Criminals. Or the ones who are just waiting for the right excuse to become one.” I let out a bitter, jagged laugh. “And what if he’s both?” 3 Darren showed up at the Blackwood estate when he was fifteen. He was only a few months younger than me. When my father sat him down in front of me, he only said two things: “This is your brother,” and “Take care of him.” But my father didn’t actually care what happened to Darren. To him, bringing the boy into the house was his grand act of charity, his duty fulfilled. Once the introductions were over, he went back to his boardroom and his scotch, leaving the boy to the wolves. And the house was full of wolves. The housekeeper stole from his allowance; the staff looked through him as if he were a stain on the carpet. I saw it, but I stayed out of it. I had my own problems. That changed the day I found the butler punishing him. He’d locked Darren in a windowless pantry for twenty-four hours without a drop of water or a scrap of food. The reason? Darren had forgotten to feed my father’s prize canary. It was absurd. My father had a literal team of people to care for his birds. The punishment wasn’t about the bird; it was about reminding the bastard where he stood. I went straight to my father. By the next morning, the butler was fired, and every staff member who had touched Darren was gone. That was the first time I saw Darren smile. He looked up at me, his features softening into something beautiful and sweet. “Thank you, Elena,” he’d said. His voice was like honey. After that, he became my shadow. Even though we were in different grades, he stayed up all night for months, teaching himself the curriculum so he could skip a year and be in my classes. At the time, I was close with Tristan, the youngest son of the Sterling family. Our fathers were already talking about a merger, a marriage. Tristan and I were a “sure thing.” Darren made sure he was always around us. He became Tristan’s shadow, too. Then came winter break of our junior year. We went skiing. Tristan’s bindings “malfunctioned” on a black diamond run. He broke his leg so badly he had to be flown to Europe for specialized surgery. He never really walked the same way again, and the engagement talks evaporated. My father moved on to the next candidate. Within a month, that man’s family business was hit with a massive federal tax evasion scandal. It kept happening. Every man who came near me met a disaster. People started whispering that I was cursed—the “Black Widow of the Blackwoods.” My father suspected foul play. He hired investigators, but they found nothing. Whoever was doing it was a ghost. Years later, when I was starting to handle the family’s international accounts, I took Darren with me to London for a high-stakes negotiation. The client was an arrogant prick, making demands that were borderline insulting. I was desperate to close the deal, so I stayed late, trying to play the game. I didn’t realize he’d spiked my drink. I woke up in a hospital bed with Darren sitting by my side. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. His face was waxen, his eyes rimmed with red. I asked about the client. “He’s dead,” Darren said. His voice was flat, as if he were telling me the weather. “An overdose. Cardiac arrest.” I started to shake. The cold realization seeped into my marrow. “What did you do, Darren?” He leaned in so close our noses almost touched. He looked at me with an intensity that felt like a physical burn. “He touched you, Elena. Did you really think I’d let him keep breathing?” I realized then that it had always been him. Tristan’s “accident.” The scandals. Everything. Darren tilted his head, a dark laugh escaping him. “You’re making that face again. Did you figure it out? Want to know a secret?” I pushed him away, my voice trembling. “You’re a monster. You’re a freaking psychopath!” He didn’t care. He just smiled at me. Later, I looked into the old butler—the one who’d locked him in the pantry. Three years after he was fired, he’d been in a hit-and-run. He was paralyzed from the waist down. I was going to tell my father. I was going to scream it from the rooftops. But then my father was diagnosed with leukemia. Everything became a blur of hospitals and bone marrow tests. That was when the final bomb dropped. The tests showed that I wasn’t a match. Not even close. Because I wasn’t his biological daughter. Darren, the “bastard,” was the only true heir. My father still loved me—he’d raised me, after all. He asked me what I wanted as a settlement, a way to ensure my future since the inheritance was legally bound to Darren. I looked across the hospital room at Darren. He was watching me, his eyes hooded and dark. When he saw me looking, he gave me that bright, boyish smile again. It made my skin crawl. He was a demon wearing the skin of a brother. I didn’t want the money. I didn’t want the name. “I want to leave,” I told my father. “And I want you to make sure he can never find me.” My father kept his word. For seven years, I was a ghost. Whenever I talked to Nate about my past, I kept it vague. Even now, I don’t have the words to describe what Darren is to me. Nate, being a cop, has an annoying intuition. “He’s in love with you, isn’t he?” I bristled. “Shut up, Nate.” “Don’t get mad at me. Your whole face changes when you talk about him.” He flicked ash into a tray, his expression darkening. “He doesn’t sound like a good guy, El. You sure he won’t come looking for you?” “He won’t,” I told myself. “It’s been seven years. If he was going to find me, he would have done it by now.” 4 I was wrong. The news of Darren’s return hit the social columns a week ago. An old friend from my former life reached out, half-joking: “Watch your back, Elena. The king is back, and he’s still looking for his queen. Now that your father is gone, there’s no one left to hold him back.” I’d been careful. I moved every year. I’d only been in this town for twelve months. Not even Nate’s background checks could find my original file. But Darren wasn’t just anyone. Three days after his father’s funeral, he was on my doorstep. He’d probably been tracking me for years, just waiting for the old man to die so he could break the promise of staying away. I’d called Nate the second I saw him. Nate acted like a jerk about it, complaining about the “drama,” but he hadn’t left my side since. He said he felt like we were being followed, but the tail was too smart, too slick. Eventually, Nate got fed up. When he had to go out on a major raid, he practically dragged me to the station. “Do not leave this building,” he warned. “Stay in the lobby. If you even step ten feet outside, I’ll cuff you to the radiator myself. Got it?” I stayed. I waited through the afternoon and into the night as the sky turned the color of a bruise and the rain began to lash against the windows. Eleven o’clock came and went. Nate wasn’t back. I called him, but it went straight to voicemail. Lightning cracked across the sky. I couldn’t sit still. I grabbed my bag and ran toward the exit. A junior officer, Miller, stopped me. “Elena? Nate’s been in an accident. The suspect led him on a high-speed chase into the outskirts. His car rolled. They’re taking him to the ER now.” “An accident?” I whispered. No. It was too convenient. I remembered a text I’d received an hour ago from an unknown number: Stay away from the cop. Darren. I ran down the station steps, the rain soaking me to the bone. There was a silver Maybach idling at the curb. I didn’t think. I just threw open the passenger door and dived in. A flash of lightning illuminated the cabin. And there he was. Behind the wheel, his face pale and ghostly in the sudden light. He was staring at me with a look that was both beautiful and utterly terrifying.

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