Category: English

When Grandpa Joe suddenly passed away, he left two houses behind. Aunt Karen, usually tight-fisted about everything, chose the old, rundown place, leaving the high-value, centrally located school district property to us. We were surprised but didn’t think much of it and signed the paperwork. But as we were finalizing everything, I caught a glimpse of Aunt Karen’s thoughts. “Ha! You think you got a deal, huh? I chose the safe zone, and in a few days, you’ll all roast to death!” “We’re not fighting you for it this time; we’ll take Maplewood Grove Apartments!” Aunt Karen declared. The four of us exchanged baffled glances. Grandpa Joe had just passed away three days ago, and after rushing through all the arrangements, we’d finally gotten through the funeral. Aunt Karen and her family had shown up halfway through, showing not a trace of grief; if anything, they seemed excited. I could guess why—she was likely hoping to avoid contributing financially, something she’d done countless times before. For years, we’d shouldered the expenses for Grandpa’s needs, from everyday essentials to medical costs. Aunt Karen’s only child, Ryan, had dropped out of school early and regularly asked Grandpa for money. Dad had always said it was only for Grandpa’s sake that he didn’t cut them off entirely. Now that Grandpa had passed, he figured we’d sever ties for good. We fully expected a big showdown over the inheritance today, with Aunt Karen kicking up a storm given the two houses’ vastly different values. But Aunt Karen had suddenly volunteered to take Maplewood Grove Apartments. Maplewood Grove was an old community complex from decades ago. Its neighborhood was run-down, mostly occupied by older folks. Young people wouldn’t even consider it. Riverside Gardens Apartments, however, was in the heart of the city, close to everything and right next to a top school. “Karen, are you sure about this?” Dad asked, like he was double-checking one last time. “Of course, I’m sure! You signing or what? We’ve got things to do!” she snapped, looking at us like we were wasting her time. Dad glanced back at us, then went ahead and signed his name. “Finally! What took you so long?” Aunt Karen blurted, a huge grin on her face, unable to hide her glee. Uncle Roy gave us a strange look as if he knew something we didn’t. As they turned to leave, I heard that familiar, sharp voice in my head again. “John thinks he’s getting a freebie? Ha! I’m back from the future, honey! I got the safe zone first. In a few days, they’ll burn up! Let’s see them beg me for help then!”

On the way home, the more I thought about it, the stranger it seemed. “Dad, Mom, Rachel—are you sure none of you heard what Aunt Karen said?” “Nope. Are you sure you’re not just stressed out and hearing things, Jessie?” Rachel asked, half-joking. It wasn’t impossible, but it didn’t seem likely either. Something about what she’d said—about a “safe zone” and coming back from the future—was just too strange. To be cautious, I told them what I’d heard. “A safe zone? From the future?” Rachel was still in college and had the lighthearted skepticism of her age. “Maybe, maybe not. Better to be safe than sorry. Rachel, pull up Aunt Karen’s Facebook,” I said, handing her my phone. It looked like they’d just left the lawyer’s office and went straight to Maplewood Grove. She’d posted a picture of herself inside the apartment. The place was covered in dust and badly rundown. Grandpa had moved to a new place years ago, leaving this one empty. “Read her caption,” I told Rachel. She read it, her eyes widening. Aunt Karen had written, “Who cares if this place isn’t fancy? You’ll all be jealous soon enough. You’ll be begging me, and I won’t even look at you!” “Sis, this…” Rachel looked worried, and then thoughtful. Mom, who’d seen it too, now looked serious. “Jessie’s right. Better to be cautious than caught off guard. John, we’d better prepare,” Mom said.

Back at home, the four of us sat down in the living room to hold an emergency meeting. With Dad and Mom discussing and my adding in what I’d overheard, we pieced together a theory: the heat was about to get much, much worse. The human body can’t survive past about 136 degrees Fahrenheit without dehydration. If it was really about to reach those extremes, it might be as high as 140 degrees. “Elaine, you and Jessie check prices and make a list of supplies. I’ll take Rachel to Willow Bend and start setting up. If all goes well, bring everything over,” Dad said. Willow Bend was Mom’s hometown. Her parents had been farmers, and when they passed, they left their land to Mom. Once Mom got a steady job in the city, she’d stopped tending it. Later, there were rumors about the land being seized for government projects, so she left it idle. But Dad’s focus wasn’t on the land; it was on the old bunker nearby, built decades ago during wartime. The entry point was hidden near the farmland. Willow Bend had become a ghost town, with only a handful of elderly residents left. It was the perfect spot to quietly set up. “John, should we consider selling Grandpa’s other house?” Mom asked. “We’d have more funds if we need to act quickly.” Dad thought it over for a moment. “No. If we sell, Karen will figure out we’re planning something. Just post a picture at the house, make it look like we’re unaware of anything. I’ve been more than fair as a brother. If there is a ‘safe zone,’ let’s see if she can really hold onto it.”

Once Dad and Rachel left, Mom and I headed to a nearby warehouse store. Before we left, Mom and Dad went over our savings. Selling a house or car would take too long, and we didn’t know how soon the heatwave might hit. After years of saving, plus my own contributions, we could pull together about $300,000. It wasn’t a fortune, but it would do. At the warehouse, we spoke to a manager about placing a large order. To avoid suspicion, we claimed we were stocking a new grocery store. Fresh produce wouldn’t last long in the heat, so we focused on non-perishables. We loaded up with 100 crates each of beef jerky, chicken jerky, and other dried meats. They were filling, nutritious, and didn’t spoil easily. Next were dried vegetables and fruit—another hundred crates each. Already, we’d spent nearly half our budget. We weren’t done yet. We bought emergency rations, canned goods, and every type of seasoning, another hundred crates. Our last major expense would be water. Mom and I visited three stores, buying out every jug and bottle of water we could find, and spent over $100,000. She rented two box trucks, and by the time we’d finished, both trucks were full, with a third nearly there. To keep it discreet, Mom planned to leave the trucks in a parking lot and drive them out one by one. Mom and Dad had a history of long-haul driving, so both had their commercial licenses. Willow Bend wasn’t far—about a three-hour drive. Mom and I drove one truck home, with Dad meeting us halfway to switch cars. He took the supplies on to the bunker while we returned to load more. We spent the next few hours shopping for essentials: toothpaste, soap, tissue paper, underwear, bedding, and items we’d need daily. We stocked up on bags of cat litter and composting chemicals, knowing that waste disposal might be an issue. On our final trip, we got solar panels to help generate electricity. There was no guarantee of cell service, but with a generator, at least we’d have light. We also grabbed rechargeable lamps, flashlights, and basic first-aid supplies—anything that might be difficult to find later.

For three days, Mom and I drove the trucks, while Dad and Rachel handled the smaller trips. Between us, we barely slept ten hours in those three days. We were anxious, watching every minute tick by. By the time we hauled the last truckload to Willow Bend, we were exhausted. Dad and Rachel had spent days cleaning and organizing the bunker. When we arrived with the last batch of supplies, they were covered in dirt and looked like they’d both lost weight. Together, we hauled boxes into the bunker, filling every available inch. When we were done, Dad even set up a small bathroom. Finally, Mom and Dad returned the trucks to avoid drawing attention, driving the last car back with a few extra tools in case we needed them. That night, we lay on the ground under the stars, grateful for a moment of peace, even knowing it might be a while before we’d get another like it. Just then, Dad’s phone buzzed. After reading the message, he let out a bitter laugh. “Karen finally cracked.” We gathered around to read Aunt Karen’s furious messages: Karen: “John, your family’s got some luck, huh? Bet you’re real cozy in that mansion.” Karen: “When have you ever given me anything when I asked? All you’ve ever done is preach at me!” Karen: “I bet that big house feels nice! You just wait until tomorrow! Your family will be on its knees begging me for help, and I won’t even look at you!”

And just as Aunt Karen had warned, the next day at noon, the outdoor temperature spiked dramatically. Mom was quick to react, pulling the clothes off the line and shoving us all into the depths of the bunker. Near the entrance, we still had cell signal. Rachel and I huddled together, scrolling through news alerts. “City’s issued a red alert heat warning. Temperatures will keep climbing over the next few days. Citizens are urged to stay indoors and avoid direct sunlight.” “Jess, it’s already 122 degrees outside!” Rachel said, curling up in fear. “They say they’re lowballing it—that it’s probably even hotter!” We both glanced toward the shelter’s entrance. Outside, what had once seemed warm sunlight now felt ominous, bringing a chill to our bones. The air shimmered with waves of heat like fiery snakes, ready to scorch anyone in their path. “Jess! Look at this!” Rachel turned her phone to me. A few pictures caught my attention. It was Aunt Karen and her family, lounging around in the sun. “In this heat? They’ll get killed out there!” “Something’s not right…”

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My gold-digging sister-in-law suddenly seemed like a different person. Watching her and my brother act out the drama of a domineering CEO’s marriage before love every day, I was grateful that at least my husband was a normal person. One day, my sister-in-law suddenly asked me curiously why I would marry someone I didn’t love. I was confused. It turns out my husband had always thought he had forcefully taken me as his wife? My sister-in-law, Lily Evans, was known to everyone as a manipulative social climber. A few days ago, she had just married my brother Ethan. But it was Emma, Lily’s sister, who had been Ethan’s long-time crush. My parents were a bit unhappy about the marriage, but I thought it was Ethan’s own decision. Unexpectedly, after the wedding, Lily seemed to have become a different person, and her reputation gradually improved. Today, Ethan brought Lily back to our family home for the first time. She behaved very appropriately, and my parents finally felt a little relieved. Lucas had left on a business trip the day before yesterday, so he didn’t come with me this time. After dinner, Lily casually offered to drive me home. My parents frantically signaled to me with their eyes, hoping I would agree so that I could judge her character more. I agreed indifferently. In the car, there was silence all the way. I was used to such situations, but she seemed to be having a hard time with it. When she failed to start a conversation for the third time, I sighed. “You don’t need to try to make small talk with me. I won’t interfere with Ethan’s marriage.” Lily smiled awkwardly, “I’m sorry, it’s my first time being alone with you, and I’m a bit nervous.” I turned my head to look out the window, “It’s okay, many people don’t like to be alone with me.” Due to being kidnapped as a child, I suffer from emotional deficiency. For example, right now, I understand that we should be chatting about something, but I don’t actually feel awkward. “I don’t dislike it!” Lily firmly refuted, “On the contrary, I really like you. It’s just…” “This question might be a bit intrusive.” Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel, “I don’t understand, why did you marry someone you don’t love?” “What?” I heard every word clearly, but I didn’t understand what she meant. “I think you’re a very independent person, I don’t believe you would accept an arranged marriage.” I was unusually stunned, “Lucas and I fell in love naturally, what arranged marriage?” Lily also realized something was wrong, “Did I misunderstand?” I nodded. Who spread such rumors? As we got out of the car, Lily seemed to want to say something but hesitated. I unbuckled my seatbelt, “You don’t need to take today’s conversation to heart. I don’t participate much in social interactions, so it’s normal for outsiders to misunderstand.” “Sister…” Lily called out to me, as if finally making up her mind, “It’s not outsiders who think you don’t love Lucas, it’s Lucas himself…” My hand paused as I was opening the door. “I really like you, and I know you won’t tell others.” Lily looked at me sincerely with her big eyes, “Actually, this is all from a book. I accidentally traveled through time and came here.”

As I connected a video call with Lucas, I was still thinking about Lily’s words. She said that everyone thought I didn’t care about marriage. Lucas loved me, and my parents and Ethan thought Lucas was a reliable person, so when Lucas proposed an arranged marriage, my family agreed. She also said that she thought the same when she was reading the book. My eyebrows furrowed uncontrollably. I may have some degree of emotional deficiency, but I’m not completely ignorant of human relationships and social norms. Lucas and I met in college, confirmed our relationship in the second semester of our sophomore year, got married after graduating, and have been happily married for eight years now. How could Lucas possibly not know that I love him? “Aria, is something wrong?” Lucas’s gentle voice came through the speaker, interrupting my thoughts. I focused my eyes on Lucas’s handsome face on the screen, “Sorry, I was lost in thought about something else.” Lucas slightly pursed his lips, “It’s okay, if Aria has other things to do, you can go ahead, I don’t mind.” In the past, I only thought this was his little habit, but now I sensed something off about it. “Honey.” I called out to him, and Lucas immediately smiled with his eyes narrowed. I glanced at my expressionless face reflected in the camera. It seems that it might indeed be possible? “I love you.” My emotionless words floated in the empty room. In the video, Lucas was stunned for a moment. I looked at his slightly widened eyes, feeling it was a bit cute. But after a few seconds, the image shook, and with a “click”, it went black. After a few minutes, a landline number called my phone. Lucas’s voice was slightly hoarse, “Aria, did something happen at home today?” “Nothing.” Since he might not know, I might as well tell him now. There was silence on the other end for a while, then a forced laugh, “I know, it’s okay.” What kind of nonsensical answer is this? Before I could ask, Lucas suddenly said, “It’s getting late, you should rest early.” Then he hung up the phone. This was the first time he had ever hung up on me, and I was confused. I called back, but it was rejected. Lying in bed, I was genuinely puzzled. Could it be that Lucas actually thought his marriage to me was something he had forcefully obtained?

I had planned to book a flight to find Lucas, but unexpectedly, he came back early the next morning. I was groggily going downstairs when I bumped into him coming up. Lucas gently rubbed my forehead where we had collided, “Did it hurt? Did I wake you up?” I shook my head slightly, removing his hand before answering the latter question, “I heard a noise and guessed you were back.” Lucas smiled, carrying me back to bed, “Want to sleep a bit more? I’ll go take a shower and change clothes.” I nodded, thinking this was a simple thing that just required a verbal response, so I wasn’t in a hurry. Half-asleep, I heard the bedroom door open and close, but didn’t feel him come to bed. I opened my eyes, and Lucas was standing bent over by the bed, looking at me tenderly. The corners of his mouth were curved up just right, but unfortunately, I couldn’t ignore those melancholic eyes, “The company still has some business, I have to go.” “Have you been very busy lately?” Lucas nodded, “I’ll be staying at the apartment for the next few days, so I won’t be coming back home.” I was instantly wide awake. The apartment was closer to the company, and sometimes when he was too busy, he would rest there. But I hadn’t heard of any project being so busy lately.

As if to prove that he was really busy lately, Lucas hadn’t let me see him in person. The development of the situation was beyond my expectations. It seemed that this issue couldn’t be resolved just by talking. I made an appointment with Lily and briefly explained my predicament. She said I should take the initiative. I pondered over it for a night after returning home, and came up with an idea. Lucas had mentioned a while ago that a junior from my Ph.D. program had recently joined his company, Xun Yao. I scrolled through my contact list. Ryan, that was him. After chatting briefly, Ryan agreed to help me get a job at Xun Yao. I specifically instructed him not to reveal too much of my information, saying I would discuss the details with the boss in person. Ryan was a bit confused, but I didn’t want to expose that I was going to resolve marital issues. Fortunately, Ryan was familiar with my personality and didn’t ask further.

On the day of the interview, I arrived at Xun Yao early and contacted Ryan. Ryan led me to an office, “Senior, please wait for a moment. The CEO will be here in about half an hour.” Ryan held a high position and wasn’t in a hurry to get back to work. He sat down next to me, “Senior, why did you suddenly decide to look for a job?” “I need to take care of some things recently.” Ryan had a boyish charm, and now he smiled, still looking youthful, “Back then, when you didn’t continue academic research or enter the industry, Professor Gao was so upset. He kept talking about you afterwards.” Professor Gao was my advisor. He had hoped I would stay in his team after graduation, but I refused. “I was too tired at that time. I didn’t like such a dull life.” I took a sip of tea, “Professor Gao probably wasn’t really that regretful about me, he just felt it was convenient to have me do work for him.” “Senior, you’re still so straightforward. But,” Ryan laughed, then suddenly changed the subject, “I heard from Professor Gao that it was because your husband wanted you to stay at home.” “Could it be that he regrets it now and wants you to go out and earn money?” Ryan smiled mischievously. I raised an eyebrow slightly, “Professor Gao said that?” The old man wouldn’t be that idle. Ryan’s hand holding the teacup paused, his smile fading as he awkwardly scratched his head, “No, I made that up.” “I was just curious. Back then, which of our classmates wasn’t curious about your love life?” Ryan put his hands together, almost pleading, “I finally get to see you again, let me pry a little.” The corners of my mouth curved slightly. Among our classmates back then, Ryan was the most favored. One reason was his face, and the other was this mischievous personality that was hard to dislike. Although I only had superficial relationships with everyone, Ryan acted as if we were still close. I was about to answer when the office door was pulled open from the outside. Lucas stood at the door with a serious face, looking at us with an indescribable expression. Ryan quickly stood up and introduced us to each other. I reached out my hand and said calmly, “Good morning, Mr. Ward.” Perhaps thinking my usual toneless voice might seem disrespectful, Ryan kindly explained for me: “Boss, due to a physical condition, my senior’s tone and expressions might be a bit flat. She doesn’t mean any disrespect.” Lucas gave an almost inaudible “Mm” and lightly shook my hand, letting go quickly. I had never been to Xun Yao before, but his assistant Zhang Ke knew me. Now he stood behind Lucas, a flash of shock crossing his face. But with his good professional qualities, he quickly returned to normal. “Miss Hayes, if there’s no problem, we can start the interview now.” I nodded. Zhang Ke turned around, “Mr. Lee, you can go back to work now.” As soon as Ryan left, Lucas calmly spoke, “You can go out too.” Zhang Ke wasn’t surprised, “Then I’ll go back upstairs.” As soon as the door closed, Lucas smiled helplessly, “What made you decide to interview at Xun Yao like this?” I stared straight at him, answering a different question, “You’ve been avoiding me.” Lucas’s body stiffened, and he didn’t speak. I stepped forward, approaching him with slightly furrowed brows, “Why?” Even if he didn’t believe my words, he could have interacted with me as usual. Under Lucas’s complex gaze, I leaned into his embrace, “Don’t avoid me.” I had tried very hard to learn how to discern people’s emotional changes. But in the end, I found that the input-output ratio of this task was so low. I don’t care about most people’s opinions of me. But I can’t not care about Lucas. Lucas let out a light sigh, cupping my face with both hands, and said gently: “How could I bear to avoid you?” I stared at him steadily. Liar. Lucas’s lips tightened slightly, and after a long while, he gently hugged me back to him, “I’m sorry.” I leaned on his shoulder, looking at his beautiful neck. I pressed my hand against his Adam’s apple, and Lucas involuntarily swallowed. My finger slid along with it. “Lucas, I don’t want ‘sorry’.” Apologies don’t have much use for me, as I don’t derive psychological comfort from them. “Okay, it won’t happen again.” For some reason, I heard a hint of bitterness in his tone. “Never mind.” I comforted him, wrapping my arms around his neck and resting my head on his shoulder dependently. Actually, it’s okay if it happens again. After all these years, I didn’t know that due to my emotional deficiency, he had been fumbling through this relationship for eight years. There are some things I can’t change, so I should at least give him a chance to breathe. Suddenly, a cold liquid flowed down my neck. Lucas spoke softly, but still couldn’t control the crying in his voice, “I don’t want to let it go.” I was stunned and quickly raised my head. The man in front of me had red-rimmed eyes, tears filling them to the brim. I stared at him blankly, full of confusion, “Why are you crying?” Lucas turned his face away, not letting me see, “I’m not.” My brain was spinning frantically, “You don’t want to let it go? Okay, then as you wish, it won’t happen again.” Lucas’s pupils dilated, and he suddenly turned to look at me. I gently wiped away the tears on his face. It was the first time I’d seen him cry. It was quite cute, so different from his usual self. “You mean let this matter go?” I nodded matter-of-factly. What else could it be?

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Sebastian said to me, “I need a partner who can keep up with me. You’re just holding me back.” I hung up with a smile, then immediately called all the brands he was collaborating with to terminate their contracts. My boyfriend was a rising star in the entertainment industry. We had agreed to keep our relationship secret for the sake of his career. Today, he was supposed to come celebrate my birthday with me. Instead of him showing up, I saw a video announcement of his relationship with Rachel, a popular young actress. In the video, he was smiling brightly, just like when I first met him. The content was a vlog of their recent overseas trip together. During that time, he had told me he was filming abroad for work. I felt like such a fool. I called him to confront him about the trending video. “Sebastian, what’s going on with the Hot Search?” He laughed scornfully, “Isn’t it obvious? Natalie, Rachel and I are together now. She can offer me the best resources. I need someone who can keep up with me, while you’re just holding me back.” After hanging up, I called all the advertisers working with Sebastian and told them to immediately terminate their collaborations with him. If there were any contract termination fees, I would cover them. For the past few years, I had been secretly helping Sebastian connect with major brands, linking him to various resources, elevating him from an unknown trainee to today’s hot commodity in the entertainment world. But he never knew about any of this. In his eyes, I was just a plainly-dressed, makeup-free fangirl who loved him to the bone. When we first got together, he was still a new trainee at his company. At that time, his company released a dance practice video of him that had zero views and zero comments. I became the first person to click on it, and his first fan. I followed him on Twitter and sent him encouraging private messages. He said he was so excited he cried. Back then, I thought he was down-to-earth, bright, and had clear goals. After we secretly got together, I felt bad that he wasn’t getting attention from his company and had no resources. So I privately pulled some strings to gradually elevate him to where he is today. But he had long since been blinded by the spotlight and applause. This wasn’t the first time Sebastian and Rachel had trended together online. The last time was when they were filming together and the media caught them spending five hours in a hotel room. At the time, I confronted Sebastian with the media reports. He just impatiently said, “We were just discussing the script. Should we have done that in the hotel lobby? Do you trust those gossip reporters more than me? I really can’t talk to you anymore.” We parted on bad terms after that, and his attitude towards me grew increasingly cold. I even wondered if my distrust had pushed him away. Looking back now, I was overthinking it. Sebastian had long wanted to kick me aside and fly to Rachel. Early the next morning, announcements of multiple brands terminating their collaborations with Sebastian successively trended online. Netizens were all speculating whether Sebastian had done something wrong or offended some big shot. Of course, no one would know it was all because of one word from me. Those brands wouldn’t dare reveal my name either. My family was a top financial group in the country. Offending me would be like cutting off their own funding. Rachel’s fans, who were congratulating the couple just last night, immediately flooded Sebastian’s social media with insults. “Have some self-awareness and stop dragging our sister down.” “If you know what’s good for you, break up now. Don’t bring our Rachel down with your bad luck.” “Are you just a gold digger?” “Are you using your relationship with our Rachel to distract from your own scandals? Gross. Rachel, run away fast!” Some netizens even started their own wild speculations: “I heard Rachel has a powerful backer. This relationship announcement must have angered the backer, so they stepped in to cancel all of Sebastian’s endorsements.” I laughed out loud when I saw this comment. It was pretty much on point. Except I wasn’t Rachel’s backer getting angry. I was more like Sebastian’s behind-the-scenes backer. But actually, Rachel did have a powerful supporter. More accurately, someone who saw her commercial value and decided to promote her. That person happened to be my childhood friend who grew up with me but we never got along – Zachary. To be honest, before last night’s relationship announcement video, I always thought Rachel would end up with Zachary. After all, Zachary was handsome and rich, albeit with a bit of an attitude problem. Thinking of this, I suddenly wondered if I should comfort Zachary. We’ve known each other for so many years. It’s normal for two heartbroken people to comfort each other, right? I sent him a message: “Don’t be sad, there are plenty of good women out there.” Zachary replied instantly: “?” “It’s okay, I know you’re upset. Go ahead and cry if you need to.” “You’re crazy.” Never mind, he must be in a bad mood after the breakup. I won’t hold it against him. I glanced at Twitter and saw the trending topics had changed again. This time it was a statement from Sebastian’s company, basically saying they would take legal action against netizens spreading rumors. They also announced the cancellation of all of Sebastian’s upcoming schedules. The underlying message was clear – Sebastian was being frozen out of the industry. (Note: Being “frozen” in the entertainment industry means an artist is sidelined and not given any work or opportunities by their company, often as punishment.) Looking at this trending topic, I couldn’t help but smile. It felt so satisfying. Later, some brand representatives called me, saying Sebastian’s manager was blowing up their phones asking why they suddenly terminated the contracts. The overwhelmed representatives asked if they should make up some excuse. I just snorted coldly, “Then tell him it’s because his artist brought this upon himself.” When I loved you, I could give you everything. But now that I don’t love you anymore, I’m taking all my love back. A few days later, Zachary invited me to attend a cocktail party with him. I rarely attend these kinds of social gatherings because I really dislike the superficial socializing. But thinking I should keep the heartbroken guy company, and that I could use some distraction myself, I agreed. I wore a custom-made spaghetti strap cocktail dress that hugged my curves, put my hair up in an elegant updo exposing my smooth shoulders and neck, and did glamorous makeup – very different from my usual look. When Zachary saw me, his pupils dilated, but his face remained as cold as ever. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders, saying curtly, “The AC will be cold at the party. I won’t be responsible if you catch a cold.” I pouted and tossed his jacket back at him, “This looks awful.” Zachary didn’t say anything, but his face got even colder. At the venue, I ran into an old acquaintance. Sebastian walked right past me wearing the custom suit I once bought him. He probably didn’t recognize me immediately since I looked so different from usual. That suit cost six figures, but to avoid making him feel burdened, I had told him it was just a $10,000 off-the-rack suit. Sebastian’s work had all been suspended now, so the fact that he was here meant Rachel must be here too. I suddenly realized Zachary’s purpose in inviting me today – it was to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. Who knew this ice-cold jerk had such sneaky thoughts. I immediately linked my arm through Zachary’s, giving him a look that said “I get it.” After all, my ex was here too. Might as well let Sebastian feel some regret. Zachary looked down at my arm linked with his, “What, using me to make your ex jealous?” ? How dare he accuse me first when he was the one who wanted to make his ex jealous? I was just going along with it. “It’s rare for all of us to gather. I’m helping you, so you need to help me too. Don’t be stingy.” I tried to reason with him patiently. Unexpectedly, Zachary tossed out another “You’re crazy.” But he didn’t remove my arm. Hmph, men. Denying it verbally, but their bodies are still honest. Afterwards, Zachary and I started making awkward and fake compliments to various business people and entertainment bigwigs while sipping champagne. While chatting, I kept looking around but didn’t spot Rachel. Just then, a short, plump middle-aged woman approached us. I remembered her. She had inherited her husband’s massive fortune last year and loved dressing up extravagantly to attend various parties. Each time she had a different young man as her date. There was a hand around her waist, wearing a very familiar watch. I looked up and – wow, it was Sebastian. “Well if it isn’t little Sebastian,” Zachary started with his sarcastic tone before I could say anything. “You know each other?” The woman looked at Sebastian in surprise. Sebastian finally recognized me then, pointing at me in confusion, “Natalie?” “Yes, Charlotte, we’re old acquaintances,” Zachary said with a smile, patting my hand on his arm. Sebastian and Zachary didn’t actually know each other, but Zachary knew about my relationship with Sebastian. “Sebastian, how come we don’t see Rachel today?” I joined in on the sarcasm. “Rachel is old news for Sebastian now,” Charlotte said, stroking Sebastian’s hand. Her face scrunched up, the bright red lipstick almost reaching her ears as she grinned. I clearly saw a flash of disgust cross Sebastian’s face. Zachary and I exchanged a knowing glance, smiling. Poor Rachel, she was just a pawn in the end. Perhaps our little exchange irritated Sebastian. With Charlotte’s words boosting his confidence, he looked at me scornfully. “Haven’t seen you in a few days and you’ve already climbed up the social ladder?” As soon as Sebastian finished speaking, Charlotte hurriedly covered his mouth, looking at me in panic. “What nonsense are you saying? Apologize quickly.” Clearly, brains are a good thing to have, but Sebastian didn’t possess them. “Don’t worry, Charlotte. I know this woman well, no need to fear her,” he said. “Hmph, Charlotte, is this your date?” I raised my chin, my tone slightly threatening.

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My boyfriend is the prince of New York, yet he pretended to be a poor university student with amnesia and freeloaded off me. Even after my best friend Lucy Lane tried to persuade me for the hundredth time to dump this pretty boy, I still refused. Breaking up with him was absolutely out of the question. Until one night, I overheard a conversation between Secretary. “Since the fish have already taken the bait, it’s time for me to go back and reel them in.” “Then, Miss Nancy Faye, what do you plan to do with her?” When I heard this, I almost burst out laughing. I’m finally going to get rich. 0 Lately, Hanson Gabe has been sneaking out behind my back. Before he leaves, he always prepares a table full of delicious food and sweet-talks me. Once I’m asleep, he quietly sneaks out. Little does he know, I’m not actually asleep because I’m waiting for him to betray me. Tonight, after he tossed me around for a while, he got dressed and left. This is the tenth time this month. My patience, though vast, was wearing thin. After he left, I threw on some clothes and followed him out the door. I hid in the stairwell, pressing my ear against the door. I heard Hanson’s voice from the other side of the door. “It seems those old folks at the company are getting anxious. I should head back and close the deal.” Another man respectfully asked, “Then, Young Master, how should we deal with Miss Nancy Faye?” Hearing this made me nervous. Hanson has been freeloading off me for so long, spending my money and sleeping with me; he better not plan on just leaving. Hanson replied in a low voice, “She’s obsessed with money. Just give her a check to get rid of her.” The other man seemed surprised by Hanson’s response and quickly said, “But Miss Nancy Faye has taken care of you for so long. Isn’t just giving her a check a bit heartless?” Hanson seemed annoyed, “What else should I do? Marry her? With her? A third-rate student from a third-rate university working at a third-rate company? And she thinks she’s worthy of entering the Gabe family?” The man then asked, “How much should I write on the check?” Hanson’s response was chillingly indifferent. “Whatever amount she wants.” Hearing Hanson’s chilling words, a surge of triumph and vengeance bubbled up inside me. “Whatever amount she wants.” This is the most beautiful love confession I’ve ever heard in two lifetimes. 0

Yes, two lifetimes, because I’ve been reborn. In my past life, I encountered Hanson Gabe under the guise of a hospital amnesia case. His face, chiseled and enigmatic, seemed to hold secrets I was drawn to unravel. Bewitched by his allure, I took him into my home, offering him the sanctuary of my food, my clothes, and my bed. To be honest, we did have a happy time together. It was so blissful that I believed love was everything. Hanson pretended he had amnesia from a car accident caused by a power struggle within his company. He used this time to secretly reorganize the Gabe Corporation from the shadows. The day the Gabe family sent their entourage to retrieve Hanson, ten Rolls Royces glided into my dilapidated neighborhood like a parade of dark, gleaming monoliths. The luxurious convoy drew the eyes of every resident, their gazes riveted to the spectacle that unfolded before them. I watched as Hanson changed into a tailored suit and put on a Rolex watch. He handed me a check for 5 million dollars, thanking me for taking care of him during this time. Back then, I was completely in love with Hanson, thinking love was more important than anything. I refused the check, only wanting to be with him forever. I can still remember the look he gave me—a look you’d give to a stray dog on the street. Disdainful, confused, amused. Later, Hanson unilaterally broke up with me. I couldn’t accept it and went to the media to expose our relationship during the time he pretended to have amnesia. Hanson gained a reputation for being heartless and cold. As public opinion grew, it caused turmoil in the Gabe Corporation, which had just come out of a power struggle. In the end, Hanson proposed to me under pressure and married me. On the second day after our wedding, I saw on the front page of the newspaper that he spent the night at a hotel with a popular model. From then on, Hanson tortured me daily, saying that seeing me made him sick. He even bought the media company I had exposed him to and revealed that I was the one who leaked the information. Overnight, I went from being a kind-hearted wife to a scheming gold-digger. Hanson’s cold violence and the online harassment eventually led to me developing depression, and I ultimately committed suicide at home. 0

When I woke up again, I found myself lying in the hospital where I first met Hanson, having fainted due to low blood sugar. Seeing Hanson call me “sweetheart” again and again, I rolled my eyes. This time around, it’s not about revenge. I’ve lived through the agony, and now, it’s all about seizing what’s rightfully mine. I’ve been reborn, and with this new chance, I’m focusing on one thing: that $5 million. Sure enough, in this life, Hanson still pretended to have amnesia and claimed to have fallen in love with me at first sight. When I saw his chiseled, devastatingly handsome face, it seemed like the words “5 million dollars” were written all over it. I rubbed my hands together and took him home. Everything is falling perfectly into place this time around. Hanson and I naturally gravitated towards each other, and I showered him with even more care than in the past life. When he was hungry, I prepared his favorite meals with my own hands. When he was in financial trouble, I generously transferred money to him without hesitation. And when he wanted to sleep with me? No problem at all—come right over, and let’s make this night unforgettable. Even my longtime best friend, Lucy Lane, condemned me with scathing words, calling me a heartless, ungrateful friend who had abandoned our shared dream of wealth and success. The neighbor across the hall was so angry about the care I gave Hanson that he complained to his wife about how little attention he received. Under my devoted care, my relationship with Hanson flourished. Unlike in my previous life, he began to embrace the role of a caring partner.He learned to cook and took pride in preparing meals for me, often surprising me with lunch at work. His gestures were the talk of the office, sparking envy among my colleagues who marveled at my seemingly perfect, attentive boyfriend. Ha—considerate, perhaps, but a sweet, obedient dog? Absolutely. Since taking in Hanson and deciding to make money, my work has been booming—I got three promotions in a row. But this small change doesn’t interest me; I want 5 million dollars. My phone suddenly lit up; it was Lucy texting me on Messenger. This was her 101st attempt to get me to break up with Hanson. “Nancy Faye! How could you be so blinded by that pretty boy? If you don’t break up with him, we’re finished! Look at you now, drowning in love and forgetting everything we planned. Do you even remember our dream of getting rich?!” In my past life, Lucy’s harsh words were a wake-up call I ignored because of my love for Hanson. This time, when faced with her angry plea, I turned her down not out of love but for the money! “Lucy, I love Hanson. Trust me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get rich. Pack your things and get your passport ready; I’m taking you flying.” After sending the message, I heard a noise outside the door—Hanson was back. I quickly placed my phone face down, feigning sleep as I heard his footsteps approach. His warmth enveloped me as he slipped into bed, his arms wrapping around my waist with a possessive gentleness. He slept soundly, but I couldn’t sleep out of excitement over the words “Whatever amount she wants.” Finally, the day has come! The chains of endless toil are shattered, and I stand on the precipice of my liberation. 0

I’ve been waiting for this day for what feels like forever. Another month has passed, but in my last life, Hanson had already left by this time. Why is he still here in this one? When I got home from work, I opened the door and was stunned. Flowers, balloons, candles, a feast, and music. Uh… what is this? “Nancy, today is our one-year anniversary.” I looked at Hanson, who was dressed to the nines, and couldn’t figure out what he was up to. Seeing that I wasn’t reacting, Hanson waved his hand in front of my face. “Nancy, Nancy, what are you thinking about?” I cleared my throat, “I was thinking about you, thinking about how much effort my baby put in to surprise me. I’m so touched that I’m about to cry.” Pretending to be overwhelmed with gratitude, I snuggled into his arms and planted a kiss on his chin. Hanson hugged me tightly, rubbing his chin on the top of my head, “It’s all worth it for you.” I pinched the palm of my hand hard, tears welling up in my eyes. I looked up at Hanson through my blurred vision,”Will you ever stop wanting me? After all, I’m just a third-rate student from a third-rate university, toiling away at a third-rate company. ” “Of course not!” Seeing the determination in Hanson’s eyes, I found it both amusing and repulsive. These were the very same words he had used to belittle me before—words that painted me as nothing more than a pathetic afterthought. Now, here he was, parading around with this grand display of affection. How utterly revolting. “Really? You’ll never despise me? Will you marry me? Will we get married?” Hearing my questions, Hanson hesitated for a moment. Ha—gotcha, didn’t I? “Of course we will.” I didn’t expect Hanson to agree. Despite being so disgusted with me, he still wants to put on this charade. It’s a shame he didn’t pursue acting. I lowered my head and pretended to be happy, burying myself in Hanson’s arms. He pushed me away and picked up an exquisite velvet box from the table. Seeing the box, my eyes lit up. This boy knows what’s up. My year of acting with him wasn’t in vain. Judging by the box, the contents must be valuable. “This is for you.” I accepted it happily and opened it, only to find a lousy red string inside. What the hell? Where’s my knife? Is this supposed to be the prince of New York? The heir to the Gabe Corporation? Are you kidding me? If I hadn’t already developed the habit of putting on a fake smile in front of Hanson, I might have slapped him right there. “What is this?” I asked, looking puzzled, carefully picking up the red string and examining it for a while. Hmm… it’s really just a red string. Not even a gold bead, let alone a silver one. “This is a peace charm I got for you at the temple today. Wear it, and it will keep you safe.” I could curse his entire family to hell and back, but I still put on a look of being deeply moved. “Really? I love it. You’re so good to me.” With that, I hooked my arm around Hanson’s neck and gave him a kiss. Hanson immediately deepened the kiss, gently sucking on my lips like he was savoring a piece of jelly. Another sleepless night—my last conscious thought before drifting off was whether this stingy man would still give me that check. 0

The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of people talking. I sat up in bed, rubbing my aching waist. Hanson was already gone. I stood by the window, looking down at a row of Rolls Royces parked outside. Finally! Finally! The day has come! Suddenly, my waist didn’t hurt anymore, my legs weren’t sore, and I could climb five flights of stairs in one go. I didn’t even bother putting on shoes as I dashed downstairs. I saw Hanson, now dressed in a well-fitted black suit, his black-framed glasses replaced with gold-rimmed ones, and a diamond-studded Rolex on his wrist. A crowd had gathered around the entrance, watching the spectacle. Several bodyguards approached Hanson, bowing respectfully. Finally, they’re here. You’re finally here. Tears of excitement welled up in my eyes, but I held them back and pretended to be scared, “Who are you? Where are you taking my boyfriend?” A man dressed as a secretary pulled my arm away from Hanson. “Miss Nancy Faye, please behave yourself. This is Mr. Hanson Gabe, the heir to the Gabe Corporation. To thank you for taking care of Mr. Gabe over the past year, here is a check. You can fill in the amount as a small token of the Gabe Corporation’s gratitude.” This voice—it was the same person I heard talking with Hanson late at night. My lips trembled, and tears streamed down my face. I looked like a pitiful wife being abandoned by her husband. My hand reached out to Hanson again, “Hanson, are you… are you leaving me?”

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A sudden rainstorm led Asher to seek shelter in a lounge bar, unaware that this chance encounter would stir his emotions and change his life forever. “The first time I saw you, you were wearing a deep red cheongsam. Your pale thighs flashed before my eyes. Do you know what I thought before my brain short-circuited?” “What?” “I got hard.” “…” Asher shook the raindrops off his umbrella, gazing at the dense curtain of rain in the distance. He sighed and stepped into the stylishly minimalist lounge bar in front of him. He had heard about this place from his colleagues long ago but had never visited, as he usually stuck to a regular routine. Today was an exception. His car was in for maintenance, and with the heavy rain, he didn’t fancy taking a cab due to his germaphobia. So, he decided to wait for the rain to let up a bit before leaving. In the meantime, he might as well relax in this lounge bar. Asher put away his umbrella and sat down. His tall, striking figure attracted numerous glances, but he remained oblivious. With a calm expression, he ordered a drink and sipped it slowly. Suddenly, a flash of red caught his eye. Asher’s hand froze mid-air, still holding his glass. Whether it was the alcohol or a surge of hormones, Asher felt a tingling sensation spread through his body. His eyes were drawn to that splash of crimson. “She” had a beautiful, elegant face with subtle makeup. Despite exuding sensuality, “she” maintained a cold demeanor, radiating an unapproachable aura. “She” sat down right next to Asher, ordered a strong drink, and waited lazily, propping her chin up. It was another kind of beauty to be savored slowly. Asher’s gaze traveled downward. The red dress perfectly covered “her” thighs, yet hinted at a glimpse of pale skin. In an instant, Asher felt himself react. Embarrassed, he sat rigidly for about five or six minutes before his body gradually relaxed. Asher swallowed hard. “She” was so close to him, barely a few inches away. Close enough for him to catch “her” scent. Asher was gay, not because he had been “turned,” but because he had immediately recognized that this cold, red-dressed “woman” was actually a man. Asher had noticed from the moment “she” entered. This person had a tall, masculine frame and facial features that were distinctly aggressive. However, it seemed no one else had noticed, still entranced by the beauty that had appeared before their eyes. Asher felt a bit nervous. This was the first time he had encountered his ideal type. After about a minute, he finally mustered the courage to speak. “Excuse me, sir, I…” “She” seemed surprised that Asher had discovered “her” true gender. “She” looked up and studied Asher carefully. After a moment, “she” smiled softly. Her voice was deep and magnetic. “You’re the first one to notice. I’m Chris. And you are?” Asher hurriedly gave his name, “I’m Asher.” Chris smiled, and all the coldness melted away, revealing an androgynous beauty that was both soft and sensual. Chris’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Asher, you like me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Asher hadn’t expected his feelings to be so easily read. He felt a bit embarrassed. Chris finished his last sip of alcohol, stood up, and asked Asher, “Want to come with me?” Asher hesitated for a moment but decided to follow.

Chris walked quickly, moving in high heels as if they were sneakers. It was only then that Asher realized Chris was actually half a head taller than him, probably around 6’3″. He wondered if Chris liked shorter guys… Chris opened the passenger door, gallantly inviting Asher to get in. Asher complied, feeling a bit nervous. Chris smiled, “You don’t need to be so tense. I don’t bite.” Asher loosened his tie and gave Chris a gentle smile. “I’m not nervous. My tie was just a bit tight. I’m fine now. You can drive.” As Chris drove, he casually asked while waiting at a red light, “Do you want to go home or come with me?” The implication was clear. Asher naturally agreed. After all, Chris was his ideal type. Chris’s home was a villa slightly distant from the city center. It was spacious, about the same size as Asher’s house. Asher took a shower first. When he came out, there was only one set of clothes left on the bed. Asher tried them on and was surprised to find they fit perfectly, exactly his size. Asher sat on the bed. As time passed, he got a bit bored. He didn’t have the habit of playing with his phone for long periods, so he turned his attention to the bookshelf. He casually picked up a book and started reading… When Chris finished his shower and walked into the room, his body was still damp. Chris had short, neat hair; the vivid long hair from before was just a wig. Asher felt a bit disappointed. He had quite liked Chris in the wig, but Chris looked handsome like this too. It wasn’t until Chris pressed him down and started kissing the corner of his mouth that Asher’s calm expression finally began to crumble. “You’re a top?!” Asher’s voice was filled with disbelief. He seemed to want to struggle, but surprisingly, his strength wasn’t greater than Chris’s. “Don’t move. Be good,” Chris gently bit Asher’s neck, his hand applying a bit of pressure as he gripped Asher’s sensitive spot. Asher’s body instantly went limp. All he could do was glare at the man above him with reddened eyes. Chris’s voice was husky and magnetic, seemingly possessing a bewitching power. “Relax, Asher…” With that, he spread Asher’s legs and thrust in.

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In the fifth year of my marriage to James Carson, a shadow fell over my once-comfortable life. A young, beautiful assistant appeared by his side, her presence like an unspoken threat, unraveling everything I had built. But that was nothing compared to the cruel twist of fate that awaited me—I had entered the final countdown of my life. I was dying. I had to seek revenge. Life is full of regrets, and I simply had more than most. Leaving the doctor’s office, I took a picture of my medical report and sent it to James. His reply came quickly. “Baby, I have a business trip today, so I’ll be home late. Get some rest early.” He didn’t even glance at the report I sent him. Remembering the doctor’s words, I wanted to cry, to let it all out, but realized I had forgotten how to cry. “The situation isn’t good. You should be admitted for treatment… at most, six months.” The doctor’s words felt like a verdict, freezing my life at age 25.

James didn’t come home that night. Six months ago, I found out he had a “canary” — a girl he was hiding in an apartment right across from Carson Corp. Tower. He thought I didn’t know about his affair, but his little canary was far from subtle, flaunting her “perfect” life all over Instagram, almost daring me to notice. It all started when an unknown number added me on WhatsApp, claiming to be Lily Moore, James’s assistant. I rarely left the house and barely contacted anyone from his work. I didn’t even have the phone number of James’s long-time secretary. So, an assistant having my contact? That was suspicious on its own. As expected, Lily’s Instagram was full of photos with James—traveling together, skiing together, having dinner together… None of them were overly intimate, but the chemistry was palpable in every shot. Afterward, I ordered all my favorite dishes for myself, indulging in the feast alone. Was I heartbroken? Maybe once, but my body couldn’t afford the luxury of dwelling on meaningless heartbreak. “Madam, shall I make you some soup for nourishment?” Mrs. Turner, who had cared for me for years, looked at me with concern as I devoured the meal. “No, thank you. I just want to enjoy a good meal. One won’t hurt.” I gave Mrs. Turner a six-month leave, with full pay. I’m an odd person—I crave attention, but when it’s given, I never know how to handle it. At the end of my life, I just wanted to slip away quietly, alone.

“Baby, wake up. I made breakfast. Have some before you go back to sleep.” James always had this way of being gentle, like he could melt you with his touch, no matter how high the walls around your heart were. “When did you get back?” I masked all my thoughts and spoke to him as usual. “Got home at six this morning. Where’s Mrs. Turner? Did she take the day off?” He laid out my clothes and tidied the bed with care. He followed me into the bathroom, squeezing toothpaste onto my brush while I got ready. After my shower, he was waiting with a towel to dry me off, even blow-drying my hair. Could a man this attentive really be unfaithful? I had asked myself this question countless times. “Mrs. Turner had some personal matters, so I gave her a six-month break.” “Should we hire another caretaker? I don’t like the idea of you being home alone.” James’s eyes never left me, his gaze soft and tender, pulling me in. But the faint scent of women’s perfume lingering in the air reminded me of just how deceptive James had become. “No need. It’s only for six months. I was thinking of traveling to Europe anyway.” “Europe? Is your health up for that? What did the doctors say yesterday?” James’s worry seemed genuine as he took my hand and kept asking. His concern wasn’t fake. I searched his face for any signs of pretense, but I found none. Could love be this well acted? “The results are the same. But you know how much I’ve always wanted to see Europe—castles, scenery, it’ll do me good.” “Alright, baby. I’m sorry I can’t go with you, I’m just too busy. Take lots of photos, okay? And please, hire a caretaker to look after you.” James visibly relaxed as he said this. “Yeah, I will.” James kept talking as I quietly ate breakfast, saying little in return. I was too scared to slip, too afraid I might blurt out the truth, afraid I’d lose the last bit of composure I had. When I first discovered his affair, I had already thought of revenge. Divorce? I didn’t have time for that. I wasn’t going to waste what was left of my life on something so pointless. Whether I divorced him or not didn’t change a thing. Who cares what you’re called after you’re gone? No, the only thing I could do was ruin his reputation, make the scandal explode. That seemed to be the only power I still held. With James, he always did most of the talking. Maybe it had to do with my upbringing—I wasn’t much of a talker, but I loved listening to him. I never went to school, so James hired a tutor just for me. Back then, after his classes, he’d run over to my house, grade my homework, and go over my progress. He would ramble on about everything that happened at school—who got bullied, who was annoying, who tattled on someone. With him around, my life seemed so full. Even now, after work, he would recount his entire day, tell me what he ate, what meetings he attended, who he met, and even send me videos and pictures. It was this James Carson that made me believe in our love for so long. “Baby, guess what this is?” James slid an elegantly wrapped box toward me. “What is it? A gift?” In that moment, I forgot about his affair, instinctively reacting with curiosity, wondering what was inside. I opened the box—it was an evening gown designed by James himself. Light green, my favorite color. A color full of life. I didn’t go out much, and my skin was pale. James used to say that when I wore green, I looked like a little fawn in the woods. I put on the dress, did a simple makeup look, and called a photography team to the house to take tons of beautiful photos. James was in some of the pictures too. Today, James didn’t leave the house. We spent the day painting and watching movies together. It felt like we had gone back to the way things used to be. We had endless conversations and shared so much. That night, after my shower, I found James waiting for me in bed. I hesitated for a moment, thinking of what the private investigator had uncovered. James and Lily hadn’t taken things that far yet. Just for tonight—one last night with the man who had once loved me so deeply. Because of my health, we hadn’t been intimate much. But that night, James held me close, his gentle kisses falling all over me. I had always restrained myself, wanting to live longer, but tonight I indulged. It was a goodbye, a final release. Afterward, James carefully cleaned me up, holding me as we fell asleep. “James.” I wanted to ask him about Lily. “Hmm? What is it, baby? Are you uncomfortable? Let me massage you.” His large hand rested on my lower back, gently kneading. He was so tender. I couldn’t understand it anymore. “James, if you don’t love me anymore, please tell me. I’ll leave without making a fuss.” In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him about the affair. Maybe I didn’t want to lose this last moment of tenderness. “Anna, I love you. I’ve always loved you. It’s been over ten years, and nothing’s changed. Wherever you are, that’s where my home is. I can’t even imagine my life without you.” James held me tighter. That night, I didn’t sleep well. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating James’s face. At 30, he still looked young, but his features were more defined than before. Tracing the contours of his face, I mentally said goodbye to my youth. Back when I used to read novels, whenever I came across stories of men cheating, I’d wonder how I’d react if my own husband did the same. Would I lose my mind? Would I become hysterical, unable to let go? But in reality, from the moment I found out about James’s affair, I was calm. No anger, no drama. It felt like all the energy had been drained out of me. All I wanted was to get away from this place.

James was supposed to take me to the airport, but he left after taking a phone call. I found a seat by the window, watching the bustling crowds when a young woman approached me. I had never seen her before, but I knew instantly who she was—Lily Moore, James’s little “canary.” Lily reached out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lily Moore. I’d like to talk to you about James.” I didn’t shake her hand. I didn’t have the strength, and frankly, the thought of touching her made me feel dirty. I turned on the voice recorder on my phone and motioned for her to sit across from me. “Go ahead, have a seat. I have a flight to catch, so you’ve got twenty minutes.” I studied the young girl closely—pretty, cute, radiating youth. It wasn’t hard to see why James liked her. Hell, even I could see the appeal. Years of medication had left me feeling like an old woman. “Anna Stevens, you know I’m with James now. Why haven’t you divorced him? He says he doesn’t love you. A loveless, sexless marriage—what’s the point?” Too young, too bold. She ruined her pretty face the moment she opened her mouth. “You’re the third woman to come to me with this story. All of you say James doesn’t love me, that you’re his one true love, and all of you beg me to leave him. If you’re so close to him, why not ask James to divorce me instead?” Lily’s face flashed with disbelief, but she quickly tried to regain her composure. “James is an adult. He can decide for himself whether he loves you or not, and if he wants to stay with you.” “You’re lying. James is with me all the time. There’s no way he’s seeing anyone else.” I wasn’t lying, though. Back in college, there was a girl who came to me, asking me to let James go. After James started at Carson Corp., another woman, arranged by his parents, tried to get between us. And now Lily Moore was the third. “James tells me the same thing—that he only loves me, that there’s no one else. Now, who should I believe?” I found a strange sense of amusement in this, watching Lily’s expressions shift from shock to anger. It was entertaining, really. “You’re doing this on purpose. You refuse to divorce him so that our relationship can’t be public. Well, you won’t win.” She spat out her words and instinctively placed a protective hand over her stomach. Was this supposed to provoke me? I knew for a fact James hadn’t slept with her yet, so whose baby was she carrying? “You’re here because James wouldn’t agree to divorce me, aren’t you? I bet you’ve cried, screamed, done everything to try and hold onto him. That’s why you got pregnant, right?” “But Miss Moore, you seem to have forgotten—people in our circle keep mistresses all the time. Don’t like one? They’ll just find another. It’s cleaner than hiring a prostitute, and they don’t have to worry about catching something.” Watching Lily’s face darken brought a surprising sense of relief to my troubled mind. “But none of these canaries ever make it into the house.” I looked her over, carefully evaluating the young woman sitting before me. “You know why?” I pointed at her head. “Because they’re too stupid. Beautiful, stupid toys you can play with, but no man in his right mind would bring one home to ruin the family.” The display of emotions on her face was truly fascinating. “James told me you can’t have children. The Carson family would never let you keep the title of Mrs. Carson. You’re going to be thrown out sooner or later.” Her voice shook with rage. “With today’s technology, James and I could have a child whenever we want. We could even select the best genes for the smartest baby. If you want to trade your womb for your future, that’s your business. But I doubt any illegitimate child of yours will ever enter the Carson home.” She wasn’t wrong—I couldn’t have children. But when we got married, we had agreed to use surrogacy by the time I turned 30. “Oh, by the way, are you sure the baby’s James’s? You can do a DNA test at three months, you know.” “You…!” Lily trembled with anger and stormed off in a huff. So, the baby wasn’t James’s after all. Still too young, not nearly enough experience to stand her ground. I saved the voice recording on my phone and went over to the airport café to request footage from their security cameras. If I was going to fight back, I needed to do it right.

I made it to Switzerland and got in touch with one of the few friends I had left. “This hospice is really nice. It’s close to my house, and aside from being a bit pricey, it’s perfect.” Chloe Davis hadn’t changed one bit. “Anna, are you really not planning to return to New York?” Chloe didn’t understand my choice. Chloe had immigrated to escape her family’s burdens, but she still had a house in the city and had even bought a burial plot. She always said she couldn’t die abroad. I smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair like I used to when we were kids. Still soft and fluffy. “You know there’s no one left in New York for me to see. Just like you, leaving was the only way to truly live.” “What about you and James…?” She trailed off, unsure how to continue. Chloe wasn’t stupid. She could easily piece together what had happened—when someone dying of a terminal illness chooses not to come home, it doesn’t take much to figure out why. “He cheated. His mistress is pregnant. I’m not even sure if it’s his, but they’ve been involved for months. I ran into her just before my flight.” I didn’t know how I managed to say these words out loud. Once, the idea of exposing my wounds terrified me. But now, I could say it with ease. “Anna, you stay here and rest. I’ve taken a long leave from work. I’ll be here with you.” Chloe pulled me into her arms. Had she started working out? Her embrace felt so strong, so warm.

I rested for two days, mostly because my body couldn’t handle much more than that. I had started eating less—more of what I put in was coming back out. I was relying on IVs to keep me alive. Meanwhile, I contacted a hacker and the private investigator back home. “What’s the latest update?” I asked the investigator I had hired after discovering James’s affair. “We’ve been following them closely. I’ve sent all the footage to your email. Oh, and there’s some drama—Miss Moore caused a scene at the Carson home, throwing a fit because of the pregnancy.” “Upload everything. All the evidence, especially the videos. Make sure it goes viral—buy trending spots, pay social media trolls, whatever it takes to keep it in the public eye for at least a week. Don’t worry about the cost. I’m dying; how much more can I really spend?” “Miss Stevens, there’s also an audio recording. Would you like to hear it?” The investigator’s normally casual tone had turned serious. “Send it to my email.” Curiosity won out in the end. I knew it wouldn’t be anything good, but I still wanted to listen.

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Jack’s junior, Emma, got hounded by loan sharks. I tried to stop Jack from getting involved, but Emma was driven to suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills. Jack, unaffected, continued to plan our wedding. Until one day, after getting drunk, he tenderly caressed a photo of Emma and forced me to down a bottle of sleeping pills. He said if it weren’t for my cold, heartless, and selfish attitude, Emma wouldn’t have taken her own life. If I had a second chance, I wouldn’t meddle in their business anymore. I had been reborn—reborn to the day when James Hamilton started borrowing money all over the place for Emily Rose. Emily was his junior, and just like her name suggests, she was gentle and delicate, with features as pretty as a painting. But she had a father addicted to gambling, and over the years, he’d borrowed a huge amount of money from loan sharks. Unable to repay it, he took his own life, leaving behind a daughter who was hounded by creditors day and night. To be fair, James treated me well—everyone knew he loved me like no other. That’s why, in my previous life, when he started borrowing money for Emily, saying she was like a sister to him and he couldn’t bear to see her suffer, I didn’t think much of it. But Emily’s father owed over $8 million. Coming up with that kind of money was nearly impossible. Plus, these loan sharks weren’t exactly good people—you could lose more than just money if you got mixed up with them. Naturally, I didn’t want my soon-to-be-husband getting dragged into this mess, so I gave James all of my savings on the condition that he stop involving himself with Emily’s problems and focus on our wedding. But I never expected Emily would take her own life by overdosing on sleeping pills. When I heard the news, I felt a pang of sorrow. After all, she was just a young woman burdened with a father like that. James seemed sad for a brief moment, but he didn’t say much to me. What I couldn’t have imagined was that he would one day kill me for Emily. Now, as I looked at James standing anxiously before me, his last words to me before I died played on repeat in my mind. “I told you, Emily and I weren’t like that! Why, why couldn’t you just help her? “Your family’s got money, doesn’t it? You rich people never understand this kind of desperation. Clara, you’re selfish and heartless!” “You can watch her die and still expect me to marry someone as cold and cruel as you? “All rich people are scum!” Thinking back, I laughed. My family’s annual income was in the millions, and as their only child, my parents never liked James, who came from a rural background. They wanted me to marry someone more suitable, but I was so in love with James that they cut off my finances, hoping I’d come to my senses. But James resented me because I didn’t ask my family for money to save his precious junior. $8 million—did he really think I’d ruin my life just to help him and his little crush?

Seeing I hadn’t responded, James cupped my face tenderly. The expression I once loved now filled me with disgust. “Babe, you know I just feel sorry for her. She’s been through so much. You know how long we’ve known each other, and Emily really likes you too.” I brushed his hands off and said coldly, “I’m not getting money from my parents anymore because of you. Where would I get the money to give to you?” James didn’t seem to pick up on the sarcasm in my voice. “Babe, you’re their only child. If you explain the situation, your parents will definitely help, won’t they?” I shot back, “Do you like Emily?” For a second, guilt flickered across his eyes, but he quickly hid it. “How could I, babe? Everyone knows you’re the one I love most. Emily’s just my junior, and I feel sorry for her. That’s all. Don’t overthink it.” I stood up, not even glancing his way. “She’s your friend, not mine. I have no obligation to fix her family’s mess.” James frowned. “Clara, aren’t you the kindest, most understanding person? What’s happened to your empathy? Your family’s rich. Your parents are still alive and well, and they’ve got income. But Emily? Her mom’s been gone for years, and she’s stuck with a father like that. You’re acting like Marie Antoinette!” Saying that, he grabbed his debit card and stormed out, heading straight for Emily’s house. I couldn’t believe the audacity—how could James make it seem like all of Emily’s problems were somehow my fault? I quickly packed my bags and sent him a text: We’re done. Then, I blocked him from everything. This time, I wanted to see how long James could survive without my support. Right now, his company was still in its startup phase. In my past life, I knelt before my parents to help him, drank myself sick at business dinners, and gave my all for his company. And what did he do? Did he even love me? During those intimate nights, who was really on his mind—me, or his junior, Emily, who had already taken her own life?

I returned home with my bags, and my parents were visibly shocked. My dad huffed, “If you’re back because of him, you might as well leave. Your mom and I can’t stand the sight of you when it’s about him.” Seeing my parents healthy and alive, I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up. In my last life, after James killed me, how devastated must my parents have been when they found my body? At that thought, I collapsed at the doorway, sobbing uncontrollably. My mom nudged my dad and frowned. “This is your fault! Why do you have to be so harsh? Look at her, she’s crying her heart out.” I buried my face in my mom’s arms and cried until there was nothing left. Regret, bitterness, all of it poured out. “It’s okay, sweetie. What happened? Did James hurt you?” I nodded. “I… I broke up with him. I don’t love him anymore. I want to come home.” The look on my parents’ faces was priceless—they looked like they’d finally been freed from years of torment. Just to make sure, my dad cautiously asked, “You mean, the kind of breakup where you won’t be getting back together?” I smiled through my tears and nodded, then told them the whole story. My parents were furious. “I always knew that James was bad news! Your company, your future, everything—he made you put it all on the line. And now he has the nerve to turn it all back on you?” As my parents raged, I felt a pang of guilt. What had possessed me in my past life to throw my family aside for a man? “Welcome home, sweetheart. Welcome home.” My mom gently patted my back, soothing me the way she used to when I was a child. After such an overwhelming day, I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. The next morning, I woke up to find twenty missed calls from James and a new Instagram post from Emily. In the photo, she was sitting in the passenger seat of James’s car, with him lovingly wiping her tears. The caption read: No matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side. Even though I had braced myself for this, my heart still ached when I saw it. James and I had been together for six years, and people used to joke that if we didn’t end up getting married, they’d stop believing in love. I guess love really does change, doesn’t it? My phone buzzed with a message from Emily: Clara, I’m so sorry about that Instagram post. You know my family’s situation has been really complicated, and Jack… well, he just felt sorry for me, so he stayed with me last night. I heard you broke up with him, but please don’t let it be because of me. I’d feel so guilty. I didn’t respond. Emily’s manipulations were so transparent, I didn’t even want to bother. Posting that picture, then sending me this message—what did she expect me to do? Beg James to come back to me? Or storm into her place and slap her? Emma Miles was as disgusting as James, a two-faced backstabber.

I once accidentally came across some of the messages between James and Emily. “You’re such a great senior, I’m so envious of Clara for finding a boyfriend like you.” “Clara’s so lucky. She has a loving family and a boyfriend who dotes on her. I wish I could have the same.” And, of course, James ate it all up, insisting on treating her like a little sister—bringing her food when she was hungry, water when she was thirsty. When Megan heard that I’d broken up with James, she insisted on dragging me out to celebrate. Her lively energy was contagious, and soon, I found myself in a much better mood. “You have no idea how much I’ve hated James,” Megan said, grinning from ear to ear. “Ever since you started dating him, you’ve barely had time to grab lunch with me. Being blinded by love is how people start losing themselves—and you, my friend, were the poster child for that!” Hearing her ramble on, I pulled her close and nodded eagerly in agreement. “I’m sorry, I really was an idiot, okay? You happy now?” Megan finally nodded with satisfaction and proceeded to drag me into every luxury store in the mall. As I walked through the aisles, it struck me how much I had changed since dating James. I’d stopped being my own person, morphing into someone whose life revolved entirely around him. With his business just taking off, he was always strapped for cash, and I hadn’t visited these beloved stores in ages. “Hey, isn’t that James?” Megan suddenly gasped, her eyes wide. I followed her gaze and spotted James, along with Emily, who was pulling a suitcase behind her. They seemed to be sneaking around, as if they were up to something. I didn’t want anything to do with them anymore, but Megan’s curiosity got the best of her. She insisted we go check it out. We watched as they entered a second-hand luxury bag store, and a suspicion began forming in my mind. “Isn’t that the limited edition bag I got you two years ago for your birthday?” Megan pointed to a high-end bag on display inside. I frowned. I’d left behind some things at James’s place when I packed up, planning to send movers to retrieve them later. I hadn’t expected James to take my bag and sell it for Emily’s sake. Without hesitation, I walked into the store. The moment James saw me, his face went from guilty to gleeful in an instant. “Clara! What a surprise! I’ve been trying to reach you. I was planning to explain everything once I wrapped up a few things—” Whack! I didn’t wait for him to finish. My hand landed square on his cheek, and James stared at me, utterly stunned. Emily quickly stepped forward to tend to his reddened face. “Clara, how could you hit him? He’s—” Whack! Another slap, this time for Emily. “Hitting you was just something I did on impulse,” I said, voice cold. Megan burst out laughing, while the rest of the store turned to watch the spectacle unfold.

“Clara, you crazy woman! Why are you hitting Emily? What did she ever do to you?” James pushed Emily behind him, shielding her like a mother hen. I pointed to the display of bags. “You’re selling my things without permission. Did you even bother to ask me first?” James’s face turned crimson. “I’m just borrowing them. It’s not like I wasn’t going to give them back.” “Borrow my things without asking? Do you realize that’s called theft? And we’ve broken up, James. You don’t get to touch my stuff anymore.” “Clara, how could you be so shallow? They’re just bags! You can always buy more. But you can’t put a price on someone’s life. Are you really okay watching Emily get pushed to the edge?” James was growing more agitated by the second, as if I was the one at fault in all of this. I couldn’t believe how shameless he was. “You’re trying to guilt-trip me? Let me tell you something—I don’t fall for that.” By now, the surrounding crowd was whispering among themselves, phones raised to record. “First of all, we’re no longer together. Second, those are my bags. And lastly, whatever help you want to give your dear Emily is none of my concern. What’s next? If you marry someone and have kids, are you going to ask me to pay their college tuition too?” James was left speechless. He knew he was in the wrong, but with everyone filming, he couldn’t afford to dig himself deeper. Reluctantly, he muttered, “Fine. These three bags—I bought them. I have every right to sell them.” Megan and I were floored. What kind of twisted logic was that? Since when does a boyfriend get to take back gifts after a breakup? “Fine, sell them if you want,” I replied dismissively. I had no interest in prolonging the argument. I turned to the store manager and said, “The rest of the bags are mine. Please assess their resale value and transfer the amount to my account.” It seemed that James knew his company’s finances were stretched thin, so he’d resorted to sneaky tactics like this. Men like him always want everything, don’t they? “Clara, are you really going to break up with me? You’re 28 now. Do you even realize how old that is? If you leave me now, who’s going to want you? Look, I’ll make it simple. Ask your parents for $500,000 to pay off Emily’s debt, and we can work things out.” James said this seriously, as if he was doing me a huge favor. “You’re delusional, James. If anything, you were the one who got lucky with me.” Megan, unable to contain herself any longer, chimed in. “Plus, my brother’s 32, single, and practically a golden bachelor—tall, handsome, and rich. Clara will be way better off without you. Go run back to your little green-tea princess.” With that, Megan grabbed my arm, and we stormed out of the store without looking back.

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The new pack of rubbers had been stolen again and again. Furious, I poked holes in every packet, determined to make that sneaky thief pay. Little did I know that just over a month later, my long-widowed mother-in-law started suffering from constant morning sickness. I began to suspect my husband, Andrew, was cheating on me. One morning, as I was tidying the bedside drawer, I noticed that several of the rubbers I bought during the last sale were missing. But Andrew and I hadn’t been intimate for weeks. I suddenly remembered that the bed linens had been changed more than once recently. I was shaking with anger, gripping the box in my hand. How dare he bring someone into our home! “Emily, why didn’t you separate the laundry? My white shirt’s been ruined—look at it!” Andrew’s voice came from the hallway. Still fuming, I yelled, “From now on, do your own laundry! I’m done.” “What’s wrong with you?” he muttered irritably. “Your temper’s getting worse every day.” Then Margaret, my mother-in-law, heard us and began wailing from the living room, “Oh, what have I done to deserve this? A daughter-in-law like you!” Storming out of the bedroom, I pointed at Andrew, standing uselessly on the balcony, and shouted, “You sit at home all day doing nothing, and you’ve got the nerve to complain?” “Who doesn’t have the wife doing housework? A man’s job is to earn money!” Margaret slammed the door behind her as she entered, glaring at me. “You can’t even manage the washing properly. Useless! I don’t know what Andrew saw in a woman like you.” Her sharp words only made my blood boil more. When Andrew and I got married, my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, felt sorry for Margaret, raising him all on her own, so they didn’t ask for anything. In fact, they even provided a house as a wedding gift. We had agreed I wouldn’t live with her, but Andrew insisted, saying she was too old to live alone in Derbyshire Village, and brought her to live with us shortly after the wedding. I had endured her endless criticism and meddling for Andrew’s sake, but I was done with it now. “My salary’s three times his, and the house you’re living in? It’s mine. What right do you have to insult me?” Andrew rushed over to comfort his mum and then glared at me. “Emily, apologise to Mum.” I looked down at the two of them on the floor, feeling more disgusted than I ever had. “Apologise? For what? This house, the car—what’s here that you’ve actually contributed to?” Andrew gritted his teeth and then, with a sickly sweet tone, approached me. “Honey, I know you do more, but Mum’s old now. Can’t you just be a bit more patient?” Margaret sat on the floor, smug, clearly expecting me to apologise. I scoffed, muttered a firm “No chance,” and slammed the door behind me as I left. That same day, I ordered a small camera online. If Andrew was cheating, I was going to catch him in the act and make sure he left with nothing. That day, I had just arrived at the office when my phone alerted me that someone was in the camera’s range. I scoffed, opened the monitoring app, and prepared to catch Andrew in the act. But to my shock, the screen showed my mother-in-law, Margaret, tangled up in bed with Colin Harris, Sophie’s father-in-law!

Not long after I arrived at work the next day, my phone alerted me that someone was in the room caught on camera. I smirked, ready to catch him red-handed. I opened the live feed on my phone, expecting to see Andrew with someone else. But what I saw instead shocked me beyond belief: Margaret—my mother-in-law—and Colin Harris, Sophie’s father-in-law, were in my bed! Shaking, I rushed to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and tried to calm down. The absurdity of the situation was too much. The sounds coming from my phone made me feel sick. I quickly shut it off and leaned over the toilet, heaving. The thought of what had happened on my bed made my skin crawl. Furious, I couldn’t believe Margaret’s brazenness. It was bad enough she was acting like this, but why in my bedroom? I picked up my phone, ready to send the footage to Andrew and Sophie. Let them deal with their parents. But suddenly, I felt dizzy. Holding onto the door for support, I tried to get help but blacked out before I could make it out. When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. “Doctor, what’s wrong with me?” “You had a miscarriage,” Dr. Richard Evans said curtly, looking at me with a strange mix of annoyance and pity. I sat up in shock. “I was pregnant? How is that possible? I’ve always been healthy—why would I miscarry?” “It was food poisoning. The tests show that someone had been putting large amounts of bacteria-laden pigeon droppings in your food.” I thought he was joking and denied it instantly. “That’s ridiculous. Who would put something that disgusting in my food?” Dr. Evans gave me a knowing look and continued. “In all my years at St. Bartholomew’s, I’ve come across a few strange remedies. There’s an old wives’ tale that says if you mix pigeon droppings into a tonic, it’ll guarantee a boy.” My heart dropped. Margaret had been giving me that herbal tonic every night. She’d said it was to boost my health. Now I realised it had nothing to do with that—she just wanted a grandson to carry on the Thompson family name. But her plan had backfired. Instead of ensuring a grandson, she had caused the death of her own grandchild. I laughed bitterly as tears streamed down my face. I placed a hand on my stomach, knowing that I had lost something precious—something I didn’t even know I had. Still dazed, I called Andrew to come to the hospital. The selfish man took all morning to show up, pretending to care, though his impatience was written all over his face. “What’s wrong, love?” “I had a miscarriage.” Andrew paused, barely reacting. “What happened?” I glared at him, fury burning inside me. “Your mother did this! She poisoned me with that tonic she insisted I drink every night. She killed our baby.” Andrew chuckled as if it was no big deal. “That tonic? All the women in my village drink it. No one else had a problem. The doctor must’ve made a mistake.” I threw the test results in his face, my hands clenched into fists, barely able to resist hitting him. “Tell your mum to pack her things and get out. I don’t want to see her in our house again.” Andrew sat at the edge of my bed, still smiling as though nothing had happened. “Mum meant well. She’s just desperate for a grandson. Don’t be so harsh. She’s lived here for so long—she wouldn’t know how to adjust if we sent her back to Derbyshire Village.” It was like he didn’t care at all that we had lost our child. Disgust rose within me. I had never been more disappointed in him. That was when I made up my mind. I was going to leave him, but not before making them both pay.

While I was still recovering in the hospital, Margaret showed up with a big bag of fruit. It was strange. She was notoriously stingy, so for her to buy all this… I knew something was up. “What are you doing here?” I asked coldly. I wasn’t ready to show my cards yet, but I couldn’t hide my disdain. “Oh, it’s nothing much. There’s just something I wanted to talk to you about.” I scoffed. Typical. She only came when she needed something. But the nerve of her! After everything she had done, she didn’t even have the decency to acknowledge her part in my miscarriage. Instead, she was here asking for help. “What is it?” I asked, barely able to mask my irritation. “When I spoke to the doctor earlier, he mentioned that your miscarriage might affect your chances of having another child in the future.” “So?” “Well, the Thompson family has always depended on Andrew to carry on the line. We can’t let it end with him, can we?” I froze, gripping the sheets tightly to keep from slapping her. “What are you suggesting? That Andrew divorces me?” She laughed nervously, sensing the danger in my tone. “No, no. You’ll always be our daughter-in-law. I was just thinking, perhaps Andrew could, you know, have a child with one of the village girls. Just to keep the family line going. Don’t worry, the child would call you ‘Mum.’” I stared at her, stunned. The audacity. She expected me to raise someone else’s child—her grandchild—from Andrew’s affair? “So you came here to tell me Andrew’s about to cheat on me, and I’m supposed to just accept it?” “It’s not cheating! It’s just having a child. You can’t let the Thompson family end, can you? Just be sensible and accept it.” I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. It wasn’t that I couldn’t stand up for myself—it was the overwhelming sense of helplessness that comes from dealing with someone so shameless. Andrew would never send his mother back to the village, and I couldn’t live with her anymore. We were at an impasse. “I don’t care,” I said finally. “Go talk to Andrew. If he’s fine with it, then I am too.” Margaret beamed, clearly thinking she had won. As soon as she left, I let out a bitter laugh. I had made my decision. I wasn’t going to tell them about the footage I had from the camera. If they wouldn’t let me have peace, then none of them would.

Back at home, I secretly poked holes in all the rubbers we had left. If Margaret wanted a grandchild so badly, she could have one with Colin Harris. Let’s see how Andrew and Sophie liked being “family.” I went back to work the next day and checked the video feed during my break. They couldn’t resist, and I saved every clip of their sordid little affair. Margaret was getting older. I figured it would take a while for my plan to work. But sometimes fate lends a hand. She had been feeling queasy for days and had no appetite. That evening, I made sure to cook something extra rich and greasy. The moment I set the food on the table, she bolted for the bathroom, gagging. Andrew, ever the doting son, followed her to check on her. “Mum, are you alright?” Margaret tried to dismiss it, but I could see the doubt flash across her face. She’d been through this twice before, after all. I couldn’t help but smirk. Still, I played innocent, bringing out a bowl of tonic. “Mum, you’ve barely eaten anything these last few days. Have some soup—it’s good for the body.” Margaret’s face turned pale at the sight of the tonic. She gagged again and ran back to the bathroom. Andrew stood helplessly at the door, rubbing her back. I leaned against the counter, my voice dripping with false concern. “You know, Mum’s symptoms are a lot like pregnancy. Andrew, do you think you might be getting a little brother? Maybe the Thompson family won’t be three generations of single heirs after all.” Margaret’s face went white, and she looked genuinely terrified. Andrew shot me an annoyed glance. “Stop talking nonsense. Dad’s been dead for years. Mum’s been faithful all this time. There’s no way she could be pregnant.” But Margaret’s panic was palpable. She lashed out, screaming, “Shut your mouth if you’ve got nothing good to say!” Watching her unravel was the most satisfying thing I had experienced in months. “Oh, don’t be mad. I’m just worried about your health. Here, have some tonic. You always said it’s good for the body.” I held the bowl out toward her, and she batted it away, spilling the hot soup on my hand. “Margaret! What are you doing?” Andrew gasped, rushing to my side. “Emily was only trying to help.” I shook my head. “It’s fine. We should probably take Mum to St. Bartholomew’s for a check-up though, just to be sure. Don’t worry, Andrew. Even if we have to sell the house, we’ll make sure she gets the best care.” Andrew was overwhelmed with gratitude, but Margaret looked guilt-ridden, trying to come up with excuses not to go. No matter what Andrew said, she refused. I pressed on, knowing I was pushing her into a corner. I was dying to see Andrew’s reaction when the truth came out. “Mum, it’s just a check-up. What are you afraid of? My uncle died of a perforated ulcer last year, and it started just like this.” With no other choice, Margaret finally agreed to go. The test results came back. Margaret was pregnant. “Mum, what’s going on?” Andrew looked at the test results, trembling with rage, his eyes turning red as he glared at his mother. “Who’s the father?” Margaret looked down, guilt etched on her face. “The test results must be wrong. I’m too old to be pregnant!”

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After my husband passed away, Mrs. Cole brought home a boy whose features eerily resembled David’s. She claimed it was David reincarnated, sent to make up for the loss. So, I gave everything I had to raise him, grooming him to become the heir of Cole Corporation. But the moment he took control of the company, the first thing he did was cruelly torture me to death. In my final moments, my supposedly dead husband, Erick Cole, appeared alongside his prized student, Mia Summers: “Thank you for raising our son and amassing billions for him. After you die, I’ll make sure our son sees you off!” I was so enraged I spat blood and died! But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Erick faked his death. “Mrs. Cole, Professor Cole was in a car accident… it’s hopeless. You need to come to the hospital immediately… Maybe… you’ll still have time to see him one last time… sob… sob…” Mia Summers’ voice was full of sorrow and desperation, followed by sobbing. Hearing her voice again triggered memories of my previous life, and in an instant, I felt an eerie calm. But I still feigned disbelief and choked out: “Erick, wait for me… I’ll be there soon!” Then, I deliberately made Mia uncomfortable: “Mia, tell the hospital to use the best medicine, whatever it takes to save him. Money is never an issue for Cole Corporation!” Mia Summers, always calm and composed, always looked down on me, the businesswoman soaked in greed, didn’t she? Well, this time, I’d show her the true power of money! In my previous life, Erick wasn’t in any car accident. Mia had lied, saying he was on the brink of death to lure me to the hospital. In my grief, I had a real car accident on the way. By the time I came out of surgery, the only thing waiting for me was Erick’s ashes. But in this life, I’ll make sure his fake death becomes real. The car accident they’d planned for me won’t go to waste — I’ll gift it to my wicked mother-in-law, Mrs. Cole. I quickly called my assistant, Aaron Turner, and told him to drive Mrs. Cole to the hospital in my signature car. Meanwhile, I went upstairs, opened the secret vault in the study, and retrieved something important. Then, I called for the four bodyguards my father had left for me, got into my bulletproof SUV, and quietly headed for the hospital.

Outside St. Mary’s Medical Center. Aaron’s anxious and apologetic voice came through the phone: “Mrs. Cole, I’m sorry, the car was in an accident on West Broadway!” “Aaron, are you hurt?” Even though I knew Erick’s plan was meant for me, and that the driver would be fine, I still asked out of concern. “I’m fine, Mrs. Cole, but Mrs. Cole has a fractured leg!” Ha! The same injury I had in my past life! It seemed Erick and Mia were terrified of me arriving at the hospital too quickly. But I wasn’t about to let things go according to their plan. I calmly ordered Aaron: “Call the police to investigate and gather evidence, then call an ambulance and take Mrs. Cole to the hospital.” After all, the old woman wasn’t going to die any time soon! After that, I informed Robert Knight, the chief lawyer for Cole Corporation: “Handle the car accident on West Broadway. Detain the driver, refuse any civil compensation, and file charges for attempted murder.” “Yes, Mrs. Cole.” With everything arranged, I swallowed my rage, stepped out of the car, and rushed to Erick’s room, crying and stumbling the entire way, putting on the perfect performance of a heartbroken wife. The bodyguards behind me exchanged confused glances.

Inside the hospital room. Erick was already covered with a white sheet. My sudden appearance drained the color from Mia Summers’ face. “Mrs… Mrs. Cole, why… how did you get here?” I ignored Mia and everyone else in the room. Covering my mouth, I collapsed onto the floor, but the quiet sobs I forced out soon turned into uncontrollable wailing. “Mrs. Cole, Professor Cole is gone… please, accept my condolences.” Mia, her face filled with fake sorrow, hesitantly tried to help me up. I subtly avoided her touch and threw myself onto Erick’s body, lovingly stroking his head again and again, my voice cracking with tears: “Erick, how could you be so heartless and leave me like this? Erick… wake up… wake up…” The moment I flung myself onto Erick, I swiftly used the golden needle I had hidden in my sleeve to pierce three key acupuncture points on his head. Cole Corporation was built on traditional medicine, but no one knew that I was the sole heir to my grandfather’s golden acupuncture technique. In my previous life, Erick had injected himself with a fake death drug that he and Mia secretly developed, fooling the doctors. They staged the car accident and tricked me into believing it, allowing Erick to fake his death! Erick and Mia lived abroad for 20 years. By the time I had raised their illegitimate son to take over Cole Corporation, I realized on my deathbed just how badly I had been deceived. But their fake death drug wasn’t stable. If the antidote wasn’t administered within two hours, Erick would actually die. Now, I sealed three key acupuncture points on Erick’s head, ensuring that his fake death time was shortened by at least thirty minutes—without leaving a trace. After finishing, I wasted no time. I distanced myself from the “corpse.” With a low, raspy voice, I turned to Mike Thompson, one of my bodyguards, and said: “Go get Mrs. Cole. She needs to see her son one last time.” “Mrs. Cole, but her leg…” “It doesn’t matter. This is more important.” Mia Summers’ eyes flickered with panic as she quickly interjected, her words dripping with concern: “Mrs. Cole, please, don’t tell her just yet! She just had a car accident, and her heart isn’t in good condition… If she finds out about Professor Cole’s death, it might be too much for her.” Oh? So Mia already knew about Mrs. Cole’s car accident! Seems like the old woman didn’t deserve any sympathy for what she’s been through. Seeing Mia’s nervousness, I smirked inwardly as her desperation became obvious. “Professor Cole was her only son. We don’t have the right to take away her chance to say goodbye.” I waved my hand weakly, pretending I was too heartbroken to argue further. Seeing this, Mike immediately left the room. “Mrs. Cole, how can you be so reckless? The dead are gone, but what if something happens to Mrs. Cole? Professor Cole would never forgive you from the afterlife!” “From the afterlife? Yes, Erick, if you’ve become a ghost, make sure you come haunt me… Wouldn’t that mean you couldn’t bear to leave me, Erick?” I lowered my head, my body trembling as I gave a heart-wrenching performance of undying love between the living and the dead. It was enough to leave Mia flustered. If Mia Summers could maintain her composed “calm as a breeze” persona in front of a supposedly dead Erick, then I could play the devoted, virtuous wife who’d die for her husband. This time, I was ready for the long game. I, Sophia Cole, wouldn’t stop until I destroyed everything they loved—until they were separated, and their family was in ruins!

“M-Mrs. Cole, we should start preparing for Professor Cole’s funeral and send him to the morgue.” Mia Summers was growing frantic! Looks like they had accomplices waiting for them in the morgue. No rush though. I’ve been given a second chance, and none of these evil people are going to escape me this time! “Mrs. Cole will be here soon!” The real show could only begin once all the players were present. “Erick… my son… wake up and see your mother. She’s here to see you!” And there she was—the main act! I turned to face Mrs. Cole. She was crying with gut-wrenching anguish, yet there wasn’t a single tear in her eyes. In my previous life, I must have been blind and foolish to believe that a mother who had just lost her only son could move on so quickly. I had convinced myself that it was Jacob, who looked so much like Erick, that helped her recover. That’s how I ended up treating that ungrateful snake like my own son! “Mom, Erick… he’s really gone!” As soon as I said those words, Mrs. Cole’s body visibly stiffened. Shock flashed across her eyes, and she shot a secretive glance at Mia. Mia, thinking she was being discreet, gave a tiny shake of her head. Mrs. Cole relaxed and resumed her loud wailing. Meanwhile, I casually removed the golden needle from Erick’s head. As soon as I did, Mrs. Cole’s face contorted with pain as she clutched her chest. “Ah… ah, my heart… it hurts so much…” “Mom! Mom, what’s happening? Don’t scare me!” I didn’t move a muscle, though I pretended to be worried. “She’s having a heart attack! Move out of the way!” Seeing that Mrs. Cole was genuinely in pain, Mia panicked. She pushed me aside, but I wasn’t bothered. I immediately called Dr. Richard Carter, Mrs. Cole’s heart specialist, and put him on speakerphone. “Dr. Carter, my mother-in-law is having a severe heart attack!” “Mrs. Cole, as I’ve told you before, your mother-in-law can’t delay her heart transplant surgery any longer, but we haven’t found a suitable donor yet.” Dr. Carter’s voice was filled with regret. “What if my husband’s heart is a match?” “What?” Dr. Carter sounded shocked. I continued, my voice breaking as tears welled up. “Dr. Carter… my husband… he was just in a car accident… He’s gone…” Over the phone, Dr. Carter’s tone shifted from sorrow to a faint glimmer of hope. “My deepest condolences, Mrs. Cole… The chances of a match between mother and son are quite high. I’ll bring my team over right away!” “No!” “I won’t allow it!” Both Mia and Mrs. Cole, who had just caught her breath, shouted in unison. Mrs. Cole’s voice was weak, but she still managed to point a trembling finger at me and scolded, “Sophia, my son just died, and you’re already thinking about taking his heart? How can you be so cruel?” Mia quickly chimed in. “Yes, Mrs. Cole, Erick hated pain! How could you be so heartless? We should cremate him right away and let him rest in peace!” I looked at them, my face a picture of sorrow, and said, “Mom, I don’t want this either. But we can’t bring Erick back. If he knew that his heart could keep you alive, I’m sure he’d agree.” “And if possible… Mom, I also want to donate Erick’s other organs to those in need. That way, Erick can live on through others.” “No…” Mrs. Cole was so enraged by my shocking suggestion that she fainted on the spot. The room fell silent. Just as quickly, Mia lost her composure and started screaming. “Help! Someone, help!” At that moment, Dr. Carter arrived with his medical team. Clutching at my last thread of hope, I turned to him, tears streaming down my face. “Dr. Carter, please! Save my mother-in-law. My husband… he’s already gone. Mrs. Cole is my only family now. I can’t lose her too!” “Mrs. Cole, don’t worry. I’ll do everything in my power.” “If the transplant is successful, your mother-in-law could live another twenty or thirty years.” That’s right. In my previous life, I found a suitable heart donor for her. She lived long after I was gone, thanks to that transplant. Remembering the cruelty Mrs. Cole, Erick, and Mia showed me in the past, my eyes filled with tears of rage. “Dr. Carter, please… my husband and mother-in-law are in your hands.” “I’ll have my lawyer and the hospital staff handle the donation paperwork immediately.” “Understood.” Dr. Carter swiftly divided his team into two groups. One group rushed Mrs. Cole into the operating room, while the other prepared to transport Erick’s “body.” As Erick’s wife, I had agreed to donate his organs. Regardless of whether his heart was a match for Mrs. Cole, it needed to be removed and preserved quickly. By this point, Mia was visibly panicking. She clung to Erick’s hospital bed, refusing to let go. “No! You can’t take Professor Cole’s heart!” “Stay away from him! No one’s taking him!” She kicked at the medical staff, wailing as though it was her husband who had just died. I had finally had enough. I slapped her across the face, hard. “How dare you! Mia Summers, this is my family matter, not yours to decide!” With a loud smack, her face turned to the side, red from the blow. I glared at her, my face cold, and ordered the bodyguards, “Take her away!” Mike Thompson followed my instructions, easily pulling Mia away from the bed. As I watched Erick’s “body” being wheeled away, Mia stood there, dumbfounded. Everything had spun completely out of her control. I quickly composed myself, my face turning emotionless as I stared at Mia. Let’s see just how much Mia Summers truly loves Erick. Sure enough, Mia squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, “Professor Cole isn’t dead! He’s not dead!” Ah… finally, the fake death charade couldn’t continue any longer.

After Mia’s repeated interference, even Dr. Carter grew impatient with her. Coldly, he asked, “Who is she?” “She’s just one of my husband’s students! Don’t listen to her nonsense, Dr. Carter.” I stepped in, placing myself between Dr. Carter and Mia. “No! I can prove it! I can prove Professor Cole isn’t dead!” Mia was completely hysterical at this point, her voice rising with desperation. With just a glance from me, Mia slipped free from Mike’s hold and frantically rummaged through her bag. From inside, she pulled out a small medical cooler. Shaking, she rushed over to Erick’s bed, holding up a syringe. I slapped her again, this time with more force. “Stop it!” “Mia Summers, you’re a doctor. How could you believe injecting someone after death would bring them back to life?” “Mrs. Cole, I swear, I can save Professor Cole! You have to believe me! He’s not really dead, he’s just in a fake death state…” “Mia, enough! I know you and my husband were close, but the dead are dead. There’s no such thing as fake death!” “It’s true! Mrs. Cole, there’s still time! If I inject this now, Professor Cole will wake up!” Mia’s crying had turned ugly. Looking at her tear-streaked face, a wave of disgust washed over me. I finally realized that Erick had been blind. Dr. Carter, maintaining his professionalism, walked over to Erick’s bed and checked his vitals once more. After a moment, he shook his head in regret. Meanwhile, the attending physician glanced at his watch and solemnly declared: “As of now, Professor Cole has been deceased for 1 hour, 18 minutes, and 26 seconds. There is no way he can be revived.” His statement immediately turned the room against Mia. Everyone’s gazes were filled with disdain. “Mrs. Cole is Erick’s wife. Do you think she wouldn’t want her husband to live?” “Who does this Mia Summers think she is? She’s acting more like a mistress than a student!” … “Mike, get this lunatic out of here. Don’t let her interfere with Dr. Carter’s work!” It hadn’t even been an hour and a half since Erick’s supposed death. I wasn’t about to give Mia the chance to actually save him. Now that I had been reborn, I was going to make sure Erick truly died this time. Mia was dragged out of the room, her desperate cries falling on deaf ears. Everyone thought she was a mistress who had lost her protector and had gone mad! But as I glanced at the syringe now in Dr. Carter’s hands, I couldn’t help but ask with a glimmer of hope in my eyes: “Dr. Carter, could this injection really bring my husband back to life? Should we try it?” Dr. Carter quickly shook his head in regret and said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Cole. Erick is really gone. My condolences.” The hope in my eyes dimmed under his gaze. Still, I wasn’t ready to give up completely. “Dr. Carter, please… what if…?” “Mrs. Cole, you need to focus on the living. Your mother-in-law can’t wait any longer!” Finally, tears of despair flowed from my eyes. “There’s really no hope?” At that moment, the attending physician handed me a death certificate and said: “Mrs. Cole, please sign here.” I took the death certificate, frozen for a moment before covering my face and bursting into sobs. “Erick… how could you be so heartless…” Everyone in the room saw my deep sorrow and helplessness. They rushed to comfort me: “Mrs. Cole, please, you need to sign it. Your mother-in-law’s surgery is more important now!” “Mrs. Cole, you’ve been through so much…” “Yes! Giving up your husband’s heart for your mother-in-law… how difficult that must be!” “Bodyguards can’t provide the same comfort as having real family. Mrs. Cole, you’ve made the right decision to save her!” … After I signed the death certificate, Robert Knight, my lawyer, arrived. He took over the organ donation paperwork for Erick’s heart. I stood there, watching as Dr. Carter wheeled Erick’s “body” into the operating room.

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My roommate, Jess Price, was absolutely convinced that every male in existence fancied her. From the fittest guy in our department to the old security guard, all of them, she believed, were at her feet. She’d created several WhatsApp groups full of admirers, posting heavily filtered selfies daily. And on top of that, she had no problem trashing me while insisting I give her my brother’s contact info. “Your brother seems to have a thing for me. Pass me his WhatsApp, I might as well have a bit of fun with him.” A senior once glanced her way, and Jess took it upon herself to snatch his laptop, claiming it was a love token. “Of course, he gave me his laptop. So what if I wiped all the data? He won’t mind; he’s smitten.” The most popular guy in the department had heard all about her, keeping a safe distance, yet she had her own twisted narrative. “Why would he avoid me and not others? Obviously, he’s shy!” Eventually, she crossed the line by going after the rich boyfriend of a spoiled daddy’s girl. That bloke wasn’t having it. “If I don’t give you a proper smackdown, it’d be an injustice to the mess you call your love life.”

I missed Freshers’ Week Bootcamp because of a minor car accident. Fortunately, the injury wasn’t too bad—just some swelling on my face. George, my brother, couldn’t help himself: “Your face looks like a painter’s palette—probably best to stay indoors for now.” But when I finally sorted out all my paperwork and arrived at Ashcroft Halls, his face was the one with red and blue streaks. “I don’t like speaking ill of women, but you’ve got an odd one in your flat. Keep your distance.” I laughed at his overreaction and shooed him away, then eagerly pushed open the door to my new room. “You’re Holly Sutton?” A girl’s eyes scanned me up and down. “Uh, yeah, that’s me.” “Give me your boyfriend’s WhatsApp. Though, tell him not to get his hopes up—I’m not interested in broke blokes. It’s all about their effort.” My boyfriend? What on earth? The girl covered her mouth and giggled. “Can’t blame you. It’s my overwhelming charm. Every man fancies me—it’s exhausting, really.” I was completely dumbfounded. “Wait, you’re saying my brother… fancies you?” My nephew’s already old enough to go on errands, love. Also, my sister-in-law, Emily, is a former beauty queen. “Your brother? You’re so ugly, you look nothing like him. Are you trying to save face by lying to me?” Okay, I admit George is a bit on the handsome side, but as the son of a factory owner, he spends all day in the workshop, not exactly dressed to impress. And here I was, with bandages on my face, swollen eyes, looking like an absolute toad. “Whatever, just give it to me. I don’t have time to waste on men like him.” “Wait a sec, why do you think my brother likes you?” I finally asked, unable to hold it in any longer. She huffed. “Your brother’s gaze lingered on me for ten seconds. Then, he looked straight into my eyes and said thank you. If that’s not a blatant invitation, I don’t know what is!” Mate, your eyeliner looks like it’s drawn with two thick ropes, and your lips are blood red. The fact my brother didn’t run away screaming is a miracle. I watched as she held out her phone with two fingers, as if she was doing me a favor. I slapped it out of her hand. “You’ve got some nerve! Did you get delusional after a pint? You’ve got a death wish if you think you can mess with me. What, did you walk straight out of surgery and forget to empty the rubbish in your brain? My sister-in-law could roll out of bed and still look twenty times better than you. Seriously, grab a mirror from Primark and have a reality check!” My tirade left everyone in the room frozen. I shoved past Jess and headed to my bed. Only to discover that my anger had hit a whole new level. My bed was covered in clothes and dirty socks—it looked like a landfill site. “Whose clothes are these? Clear them off, this is my bed.” Someone gave me a nudge, signaling with their eyes. “That’s Jess Price’s stuff.” “Jess, come clear your things.” I repeated. Jess snapped out of her daze and glared at me like her eyes were on fire. “You’re new here and don’t know the rules. At home, my mum always cleans up after me. I don’t do chores.” I looked around and saw a few sympathetic faces. Clearly, they had been dealing with her nonsense for quite some time. “You don’t do chores? Fine, I’ll handle it.” I rolled up my sleeves, gathered all the clothes on my bed, kicked open the door, and tossed them into the hallway. Someone had just mopped the floor, so the clothes landed in puddles. Couldn’t have timed it better. Jess’s mouth dropped, and she let out a high-pitched scream. “You’re mad! That was my favorite outfit!” “Was it? Well, that’s just brilliant, then,” I replied, shaking out my wrists, feeling thoroughly satisfied with myself. Jess was still screaming and hopping about, probably gearing up to hit me. But at 5’8″ and a regular at the gym, she quickly thought better of it. She glared at me one last time before stomping out of the room. A few minutes later, Mrs. Baines, our halls manager, arrived.

“She threw all my clothes on the floor! That dress alone costs over £200! She should pay me back—or get expelled!” Mrs. Baines turned to me, “Why did you throw her clothes out?” I smiled. “They were on my bed, which makes them my stuff. I could burn them if I wanted to.” “See, Mrs. Baines! She’s a troublemaker! No respect for you at all!” I smirked. “If you respected Mrs. Baines so much, why didn’t you tidy your clothes up before now? You knew I was moving in today, yet you dumped your stuff on my bed. I took it as a gift—shame I don’t wear trash.” Laughter erupted around the room. Jess’s face turned beetroot red. “Well, you shouldn’t have thrown them on the floor. You’re not the one cleaning up, where’s your sense of decency?” I cursed silently. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to clean up. What’s your problem?” I opened my suitcase, grinning at Mrs. Baines. “I haven’t unpacked yet—too much rubbish around. Might as well clean it all at once.” I proceeded to scrape the remains of someone’s watermelon rinds and discarded seeds from the table and threw them onto the pile of Jess’s clothes. I even gave it a couple of stomps for good measure. “Press it down—makes it easier to clean,” I said, smirking. Now the whole lot was drenched and covered in food. Useless. Jess let out another wail, her face drained of colour. “That’s enough!” Mrs. Baines said firmly, turning to Jess. “You all need to learn to live together. Sort these things out between yourselves.” After Mrs. Baines left, Jess shot me a venomous glare. I raised my head and said coldly, “Stop glaring—your contact lenses are slipping.” The other girls, finally free of Jess’s tyranny, were more than happy to help me unpack and introduce themselves. Jess, on the other hand, retreated to her bed, sulking behind the curtain. I still needed to pick up a few things, so I asked the girls for directions and headed out, mask and baseball cap on. It took me about half an hour to find the Sainsbury’s they mentioned. As soon as I walked in, I could feel the unfriendly stares. When I went to the checkout with my items, a guy cut in front of me and sneered to his mate: “See, even ugly bints go psycho.” “Course they do, mate. No blokes like her, so when other girls get attention, she just loses it.” Even I wasn’t thick enough not to realize they were talking about me. Bloody hell, it felt like I was in some twisted reality show where every episode was a new challenge. I slammed my items down on the counter and wedged myself between them. “What’s the gossip, then? Mind if I join?” They both looked shocked, stepping back involuntarily. I used the opportunity to slip in front of them, grinning. “Ugly girls are meant to be psycho, right? You two look like you know all about it.” Their faces turned a deep shade of red. “Who the hell are you calling ugly?” “You two, obviously.” They were left speechless. One of them, clearly more cocky than smart, rolled up his sleeves like he was ready to fight. I wasn’t having any of it. I grabbed an apple from my shopping bag and crushed it in one hand. Juice splattered everywhere, dripping down my fingers. I shot a glance downwards, and suddenly both blokes clamped their legs together in panic. “Bye now, boys!” I said cheerfully, striding out of the shop. It was clear this hadn’t just come out of nowhere. When I got back to the flat, I pulled Alice aside and asked if there was some sort of group chat I didn’t know about. She confirmed there was, and soon enough, she opened it up for me to see. The second I glanced at the screen, I was flooded with a barrage of disgusting images and hateful messages. It turned out Jess had been posting edited pictures of me, painting herself as the victim of some grand bullying conspiracy. One of her latest messages read: “I don’t even know what I did to upset her! I just asked if she wanted to grab lunch, and she smashed all my makeup. I’m honestly scared.” The photo beneath it? A close-up of her tear-streaked face, long lashes glistening with tears, her pink cheeks smudged with mascara. Just peeking into the corner of the shot? Her legs, perfectly positioned to look long and slender. Most of the group was made up of guys, and they were falling over themselves to defend her. The whole lot of them were calling me every name under the sun, especially attacking my looks. I asked Alice to add me to the group. Time to go to war. TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, you’re the kind of bloke who wipes his greasy face with a dingy old towel, scarred with acne, all while eating a six-quid ready meal. You steal someone else’s selfie for your profile pic and then go commenting under every pretty girl’s post, ‘Wanna cry in my Ferrari?’” TouristA: “@MountainMan, no girls like you, your mates laugh behind your back, and you scrape together £13 in your bank account, buy a takeaway, and use your last quid to pay for a three-day Netflix trial. Screenshot the receipt and post it to Insta: ‘You’ll never understand my pain. You don’t deserve my loyalty.’” TouristA: “@LongLegsYouCan’tTouch, your love’s like those flyers people hand out in the street. Everybody gets one. Your bank account? About as consistent as your morals—sometimes full, but usually empty.” TouristA: “@ChooChooMaster, you’ll drink yourself stupid tonight and try to pull anything with a pulse. You fancy yourself a ladies’ man, but mate, look in the mirror—what kind of salad do you think you are?” The group chat blew up. SunsetInLA: “Who the hell let this one in? Come out and say your name if you’ve got the guts!” MountainMan: “Oi! I never buy the three-day trial! I get the full month, you twat!” TouristA: “@MountainMan, what kind of bin bag do you use, mate? You can stuff a lot in there.” TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, I don’t hide my name, mate. Your daddy’s here.” The chat descended into chaos. Finally, Jess—going by the name SpanishSunset in the group—spoke up: “See, guys? This is exactly what I have to deal with. She’s bullying me like this all day, just like she did earlier.” SunsetInLA: “Don’t worry, Sunset. I’ve got your back. TouristA, how about we meet face-to-face and see if you still have the balls to insult me?” TouristA: “@SunsetInLA, if I insult you in person and you don’t get it, shall I carve it on your gravestone?” ChooChooMaster: “SpanishSunset, don’t cry. She’s just jealous because you’re beautiful. You’re everything she’ll never be, so she lashes out. Proper backup girl.” TouristA: “@ChooChooMaster, you reckon everyone’s a spare tyre because you think you’re a jack. Ain’t no one calling you, mate.” Alice was practically on the floor, laughing and giving me a thumbs up. My fingers were flying across the keyboard at this point, nearly sparking fire from the speed. The group was in absolute shambles. Only a few stragglers managed to spit out some feeble insults, but they were met with more of my jabs. Finally, the chat quieted down. Jess, or SpanishSunset, sent a voice message: “Please stop being so mean to everyone. I’ll apologise, okay? Just take it out on me from now on. They’re my sweet boys, I don’t want them hurt.” What a pure and delicate little flower she was. Not. TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, is your family in the antiques business? You call everyone ‘darling’?” TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, you think you’re so desirable, but honestly, you’re cheap and overused.” TouristA: “@SpanishSunset, with all these backups, your car must be an absolute wreck.” Suddenly, a notification popped up. TouristA had been booted from the ‘We’re All Mates’ group. Well, I’ll be damned. They kicked me out when they couldn’t handle the heat. Did they really think I’d just let it go? I flipped out of bed like a gymnast and yanked open Jess’s curtain. She froze, hands still poised over her phone, clearly typing away in the chat. Her entire body went rigid.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294671”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #重生Reborn #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy