Category: English

I chose Mike because he was the only man in our circle who didn’t come with a warning label. He was the anomaly—he didn’t smoke, he rarely drank, and he possessed a sense of boundaries that was almost architectural in its precision. In a world of men who treated infidelity like a corporate perk, Mike was the “Safe Bet.” But at our company’s annual gala, the man who prided himself on sobriety ended up in the ER because he’d spent the night drinking on behalf of his new assistant. I didn’t cause a scene. I didn’t scream. I simply waited for him to come home, lined up every expensive bottle from our cellar on the kitchen island, and gestured to them. “Drink up, Mike. You seemed to enjoy the hospital bed so much the first time, I thought you might want a permanent reservation.” He ended up back in the hospital the next day. Even then, I said nothing. I continued to appear by his side at board meetings and charity brunches. But the thing about rules is that once they’re broken, they don’t just bend—they shatter. Trying to glue the pieces back together only leaves you with something jagged, ugly, and unrecognizable. 1 A last-minute crisis at my own firm kept me an hour late for the gala. By the time I stepped into the ballroom, the air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and desperation. The party was in full swing, a chaotic blur of champagne and forced laughter. I spotted Mike immediately. He was at the center of a group of tech moguls, but he wasn’t alone. A young girl I didn’t recognize was clinging to his arm like a decorative vine. When a glass was pushed toward her, she tilted her head back, looking up at Mike with wide, pleading eyes. Mike looked down at her with a flicker of what looked like weary affection. Then, with a practiced grace, he took the glass from her hand and toasted the executive across from him. “She’s allergic to alcohol,” he said, his voice carrying that steady, protective weight. “I’ll take this one for her. Don’t give her a hard time.” The protectiveness was visceral. It was a slap in the face delivered with a smile. I raised an eyebrow, handed my coat to my assistant, Shirley, and walked toward them. The crowd parted like a receding tide. Mike saw me first. He didn’t move toward me, though. He just gave me a curt, professional nod. The girl didn’t let go of his arm; if anything, she tightened her grip. One of the vendors, a man named Miller who’d been trying to get her to drink, gave her a pointed look. “This is Mrs. Harrison. Mike’s wife.” The girl beamed instantly. “Oh, hello! I’m Lexi, Mr. Harrison’s new Executive Assistant. You can just call me Lexi.” She said it while her hand remained firmly anchored to Mike’s bicep. Neither of them seemed to realize how damning that looked. I let out a soft, dry laugh and turned to Miller. “What were we discussing?” Before Miller could answer, Mike cut in. “You’re just in time, Jade. You should toast Mr. Miller on Lexi’s behalf.” I shifted my weight, tilting my head as I looked at him. “On whose behalf?” “Mike,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous silkiness. “The new girl doesn’t know the rules. Have you forgotten them too?” Mike’s expression stiffened. He looked uncomfortable as he handed the glass back to Lexi. “This is your first time meeting my wife. You should be the one to toast her.” Lexi pouted, taking the glass with a visible lack of enthusiasm. “I guess some women are just born lucky,” she chirped, her voice dripping with backhanded sweetness. “Married to a man as patient and sophisticated as our CEO. No need to work, just show up and have everyone bow to you. It must be nice. Some of us actually have to break our backs just to keep our heads above water.” She held the glass with one hand while the other stayed locked on Mike. Her tone was a toxic blend of condescension and poorly veiled contempt. I glanced at Mike. He was watching her with a deep, unreadable intensity. He made no move to correct her. I ignored her entirely and looked back at Miller. “I believe I heard you mention that Mike was feeling generous today? Something about a limited-edition designer bag as a year-end bonus for his assistant?” Lexi’s face darkened instantly. She looked like a child whose candy had been threatened. Mike frowned, stepping forward to take my hand. “Jade…” I caught his eye, a cold, sharp warning, and he went quiet. Miller, a man who survived on reading the room, gave a nervous laugh and looked away. I knew everything I needed to know in that moment. I didn’t interrogate him. I simply signaled Shirley. “Shirley, I want a full tally of every female employee at Harrison Group, whether they’re here tonight or not.” “Yes, ma’am?” “Every single one of them gets a limited-edition bag. Anyone who doesn’t want the bag gets the cash equivalent. Plus, a ten-thousand-dollar performance bonus for the top tier. Don’t bill the corporate account. Take it out of my personal trust.” Lexi scoffed, her voice a loud whisper. “Must be nice to spend the CEO’s money like that…” She thought she was being quiet. In a room full of sharks, she might as well have been screaming. Miller, who had been entertaining her five minutes ago, let out a sharp, mocking bark of laughter. “Sweetheart, let me give you some free advice. If you’re going to be a social climber, at least check the weather report. Your boss’s wife is the sole heiress to the Kensington empire. She doesn’t need his money; she is the money. Even Mike’s mother treats her with kid gloves. You? You’re just a temp with a loud mouth.” Lexi turned pale. But she didn’t apologize to me. Instead, she looked at Mike with the watery, helpless eyes of a wounded animal. Mike looked at me, then—either out of spite or sheer stupidity—he reached out and ruffled Lexi’s hair right in front of me. “She’s still learning, Jade. It’s fine. Lexi, apologize to my wife. Just be more careful next time.” Lexi bit her lip, clutching Mike’s arm with both hands now. “I’m sorry… ma’am.” Miller snorted. I felt a laugh bubbling up in my chest, bitter as bile. “If you’ll excuse me, the Kensington gala is still wrapping up across town. I need to be there.” I turned to the group. “If any of you have time later, feel free to drop by for a real drink.” I took my coat from Shirley and walked out without looking back. Not once did I acknowledge Lexi again. 2 I hadn’t been at the other venue for thirty minutes before Shirley found me. “Ms. Kensington,” she whispered. “The word from the other party is that Mr. Harrison has been rushed to the hospital.” I raised an eyebrow, signaling my VP to take over the conversation while I pulled Shirley aside. “What happened?” “Apparently, the new assistant said something else offensive,” Shirley said quietly. “Once you left, people started intentionally trying to get her to drink. To see what would happen. Mr. Harrison played the hero. He drank every single glass meant for her. And then… his stomach gave out.” For the first time that night, I actually laughed. “Quite the knight in shining armor.” “Get the car. I’ll go to the hospital.” I arrived at the private wing an hour later. Shirley led me straight to Mike’s room. As I reached for the handle, I heard the sound of muffled sobbing from inside. “I’m so sorry, Mike,” Lexi’s voice wailed. “If I could handle my liquor, you wouldn’t be in this bed. It’s all my fault. Please let me stay and take care of you. I won’t be able to sleep if I leave.” Through the small window in the door, I saw her. She was clutching Mike’s hand, her face a mess of tears and mascara. Mike didn’t pull away. Instead, he reached out a trembling hand and brushed a tear from her cheek. “It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “I did it because I wanted to.” Because he wanted to. I stood in the hallway and laughed again, silent and cold. I suppose not every hero saves the girl out of duty. Some do it because they’re looking for a way out of their own lives. I didn’t open the door. I turned around and walked out. When Mike texted me later to ‘report’ his condition, I sent back a two-word reply: Copy that. 3 On the day Mike was discharged, I was finalizing a major acquisition. He messaged me saying he was waiting downstairs. I didn’t decline the ride. A well-timed public appearance with my husband kept the tabloids quiet and my professional standing stable. I still had a use for Mike Harrison. I walked to the car, and as I reached for the passenger door, the window slid down. Lexi poked her head out, a triumphant, bright smile on her face. “Oh, sorry, Mrs. Harrison! Mike just got out of the hospital and I was so worried, I insisted on coming along to keep an eye on him. You don’t mind, do you?” My face went cold. I didn’t look at her. I looked at Mike. “Are you going to tell her to get out, or am I going to have someone drag her out?” The “innocent” smile froze on Lexi’s face. She looked at me, a flicker of genuine hatred masked by a sudden pout. “I was just worried. I stayed in the front seat so I could make sure he didn’t get dizzy while driving.” She didn’t move. Mike didn’t tell her to move. I smiled, pulled out my phone to call security, but Mike finally spoke. He looked past Lexi at me, a small, patronizing smile on his lips, his tone “warm” and “indulgent.” “Lexi, honey, get in the back. Listen to her.” Only his eyes were different. They were cold. Empty. Lexi climbed out with a theatrical sigh and slunk into the backseat. I stood by the open passenger door and didn’t move. Mike met my gaze. After a long moment, he unbuckled, got out, walked around the car, and adjusted the seat to my exact preference. Then he held the door, shielding the roof so I wouldn’t bump my head—the perfect, attentive husband. I ignored him. I pulled a silk handkerchief from my bag, covered my nose, and said, “It smells like trash in here.” My own driver pulled up behind us at that exact moment. I walked away from Mike’s car and climbed into the back of my own. In the rearview mirror, I saw Mike still standing there, holding the door for a ghost. He looked like an idiot. 4 Mike arrived home minutes after I did. He walked into the foyer and reached for my coat, hanging it up with a sigh. “You’re still acting like we’re newlyweds, Jade. Always looking for a reason to be dramatic.” He was referring to the beginning. When we first married, his mother tried to pull the ‘traditional’ card. She demanded I be in the kitchen at 5:00 AM every morning to make breakfast for the family. I had agreed with a smile. The next morning, I sent the staff away, locked the kitchen windows, turned on the gas range without lighting the flame, and waited. When the levels were high enough, I tossed a lit Zippo into the room. The explosion blew out the windows and woke up every living soul in the estate. As the smoke cleared and my mother-in-law came screaming downstairs, I stood there in my silk robe and smiled at her. “I’m sorry, Beatrice,” I’d said. “But my hands aren’t built for anything heavier than a pen. If you ask me to cook again, I might accidentally burn the whole house down next time.” Now, Mike was smiling at me. “I didn’t let her stay in the car. I came home alone.” I didn’t say a word. I just nodded toward the bar, where the maid had already lined up every bottle from the cellar. “Drink. Since you’re so fond of being the hero. You looked so happy in that hospital bed; I figured you’d want to earn your way back there.” Mike blinked, stunned. Then, he started to laugh. He took my hand, kissing my knuckles. “So that’s what this is.” “I was wondering why you were being so petty with a new intern. You’re jealous because I stepped in for her. Jade, I’m actually flattered. You’re usually so cold, so composed. I thought you didn’t care enough to feel anything for me.” He leaned in to kiss my lips. I turned my head, and his kiss landed uselessly on the corner of my mouth. The same man. The same routine. But for the first time, I felt a physical sense of revulsion. I looked into his eyes. They were the same eyes I’d seen in the photos before our merger—deep, soulful, seemingly full of tenderness. I traced his cheekbone and sighed. “You have such beautiful eyes, Mike. It’s a shame…” “A shame what?” he asked, confused. “It’s a shame you’re blind.” I pulled my hand back and drained the first glass the maid had poured. “Of course I care. We’re a strategic alliance. Our contracts are woven so tightly they’ll outlive us both. And honestly, I liked you as a person. You were stable. You were clean. You had boundaries. You were the one thing in my life that didn’t require constant management.” I met his gaze, my smile fading. “Because dealing with a husband is much easier than dealing with a husband’s scandals. Now, finish the bottles. Don’t make me ask again.” 5 Mike ended up back in the hospital that night. The maid called the ambulance. She also told me that the moment he was admitted, Lexi appeared. She was hunched over his bed, sobbing as if she’d just been widowed. Apparently, someone had leaked the news to Mike’s mother. Beatrice had been looking for a reason to claw at me for years. She called my cell, her voice shrill with indignation. “Jade! We brought you into this family to be a wife, not a drill sergeant! If you’re so incompetent that you can’t keep your husband’s heart, that’s your problem! You’re a disgrace!” I hung up. I sent a text to Shirley: Cancel the new partnership with the Harrison-Reed firm. I’ll cover the penalties personally. Beatrice’s maiden name was Reed. Ten minutes later, the phone rang again. It was Beatrice. Her tone was significantly softer. “Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight, dear? I’ll have the chef make those scallops you like.” “We’ll see,” I said coldly, and hung up. When I left the office that evening, Mike was waiting at the curb. He looked pale, his face drawn. He’d followed orders this time; Lexi was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t ask him how he felt. I just climbed into the back seat. The silence in the car was suffocating. Mike was radiating anger, but I didn’t have the energy to soothe his bruised ego. I kept my eyes on my phone, answering emails. We pulled up to the Harrison estate thirty minutes later. Mike didn’t wait for me. He slammed his door and marched inside. I knew this wasn’t just a dinner. Sure enough, when I walked into the drawing room, Beatrice was sitting on the sofa. Lexi was tucked right beside her. Beatrice was holding Lexi’s hand, looking at me with a smirk that felt like a challenge. “Lexi is such a sweet girl. So attentive. So thoughtful.” Beatrice patted the girl’s hand. “Unlike some people, she actually knows how to treat a man with respect.” Lexi looked up at me, her eyes dancing with malice. “If you’d like, Mrs. Harrison, I can come by more often to keep you company. Between helping Mike at the office, I’m happy to make sure you’re looked after.” Beatrice beamed. “What a darling. Honestly, if my son weren’t already married, I’d…” She trailed off, then turned to Mike. “Mike, what do you think? Maybe I should just adopt her as a goddaughter.” My useless husband was busy peeling an apple, a faint smile on his face, saying absolutely nothing. I didn’t even take off my coat. I stepped forward. “A goddaughter? Why go through all that paperwork? Lexi, where are you from originally?” I looked at her, my voice sharp and clear. “I’ll have Shirley prepare the dowry tonight. We can send a car to your parents’ house by morning. Mike is technically pre-owned, but he’s high-maintenance and well-groomed. He’ll suit a girl like you perfectly.” The room went dead silent. Beatrice stood up, slamming her hand on the table. “Jade! How dare you! Have you no respect for your elders?” I smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach my eyes. “Respect? Beatrice, have we met? I thought you knew by now—in this world, I am the rules.” “Oh, and one more thing,” I added, turning toward the door. “I’ve just pulled out of all other Reed family ventures. Goodnight. Enjoy your dinner.” I walked out to the sound of Beatrice’s screeching, leaving the three of them behind.

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I came home early from my business trip, only to find the living room door deadbolted from the inside. That wasn’t like her. Lydia was many things—brilliant, icy, meticulous—but she wasn’t someone who locked herself away in her own home. Something was wrong. I pressed the doorbell. It took thirty seconds—an eternity in a silent house—before she finally pulled it open. I spent the next few minutes pretending to unpack, my eyes darting across every corner of the house. I checked the guest room, the laundry room, even the master closet. Nothing. No one. I started to think I was being paranoid, a symptom of a marriage that had felt like treading water for years. Then, Lydia appeared in the hallway, gripping the handle of a suitcase. She told me she had to leave for an emergency conference. I was about to nod, to let her go with the usual polite indifference that defined us. Then, a flicker of light caught my eye. Transparent lines of text began scrolling through the air right in front of my face. … 1 [The male lead is a genius for hiding in the suitcase! The female lead just has to wheel him out and he’s home free!] [Our boy has such a perfect, lithe frame. If it were that hulking brute Callum, he’d never fit. Poor baby must be so cramped in there, though… ugh, my heart breaks for him!] Oh? Hiding in the suitcase? I reached for my car keys, my expression smoothing into a mask of perfect, terrifying calm. “Honey, let me drive you to the station.” As the glowing text faded, I looked down at the red suitcase in Lydia’s hand. It was a 32-inch hardshell, a gift from my father on our wedding day. It was massive—plenty of room for a person, provided they were willing to fold themselves into a ball. I narrowed my eyes and flashed the most flawless, supportive smile I could muster. “Where’s the conference? How long will you be gone?” She adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses, a nervous tic she thought she’d hidden years ago. “Um, Jersey. A seminar at Princeton. I should be back in three days.” Lydia was a law professor. Tall, statuesque, she commanded a room with the kind of sharp-suited elegance that felt both intellectual and intimidating. I had never once imagined she was capable of something as cliché as an affair. I looked at the suitcase, an idea sparking in my mind. “You always forget the essentials when you’re in a rush, Lydia. It’s freezing out there. Are you sure you packed enough layers? You can’t just wear power suits for three days; you’ll catch a cold. You need a heavy coat.” Lydia’s grip on the handle tightened. “I have everything I need, Callum. Really.” Above my head, more comments began to scroll: [God, Callum is such a controlling freak. Why does he care about a coat right now? He’s going to make her late.] [This isn’t the first time. Remember when she had that faculty gala and he spent twenty minutes obsessing over which blue tie she should wear? He’s a micro-managing nightmare. He just wants her under his thumb!] [Our boy is the total opposite. He’s sweet, submissive, like a little rabbit. It’s no wonder she fell for him.] According to these “comments,” I was some kind of villainous, controlling husband in a story I didn’t know I was starring in. And Lydia and the man in that bag? They were the star-crossed lovers. Unreal. Did these people even understand the plot? Did they know why I insisted on the blue tie that night? It was because it matched the donor’s corporate colors—a move that secured her tenure. They wanted a controlling husband? Fine. I’ll give them a performance. “Did you pack that wool overcoat I bought you last month?” I asked, stepping forward and reaching for the suitcase zipper. Panic flared in Lydia’s eyes. She lunged, grabbing the handle with both hands. I didn’t back down. I grabbed the base of the luggage. We stayed like that for a second—a tug-of-war over a red box of secrets. Then, I let go. Lydia wasn’t expecting the sudden lack of resistance. She stumbled back, and the heavy suitcase skidded across the hardwood floor, slamming into the baseboard with a dull, sickening thud. I heard it then. A very faint, muffled groan from inside the shell. Lydia scrambled toward it, checking the corners like it was a crate of Ming vases. The comments surged: [Holy crap! Is this psycho trying to kill our baby?!] [He’s so fragile, he’s basically skin and bones! He can’t take a hit like that!] [I remember his skin is so sensitive… if she even grips his wrist too hard, he bruises like a peach. He’s going to be covered in marks after that crash. Poor thing!] Skin and bones? Sensitive skin? That’s not a romantic trait; that’s a nutrient deficiency or a skin condition. And I knew everyone in Lydia’s circle. Who the hell would be this pathetic? I ran through the keywords—tender, sweet, skin and bones, sensitive. A face began to form in my mind. Could it really be him? I waved a hand dismissively, feigning hurt. “Fine. Pack what you want. I was just trying to help, but I guess I’m just ‘smothering’ you again.” Lydia let out a shaky breath. As she stood up to wheel the bag away, I cut her off. “I’m driving you. No arguments.” I didn’t wait for her to agree. I was already at the door, stepping into my shoes. “It’s fine, Callum. I’ll just call an Uber.” “You’re in a rush, right? Why wait ten minutes for a Prius when I’m standing here with the keys? Unless…” I trailed off, turning to look her dead in the eye. I kept the smile on my lips, but I let my eyes go cold. “You’ve been acting strange since I got home, Lydia. Is there something you’re keeping from me?” Lydia’s shoulders slumped. She looked at the floor, her throat working as she swallowed hard. “No,” she whispered. She looked at the suitcase. Through the glare of her glasses, I saw a flash of raw, agonized protection. She looked back at me, her gaze hardening into something resembling resolve. “Fine. Let’s go. But drive fast, okay? I can’t miss my train.” The station was a twenty-minute drive. Twenty minutes for her to find an excuse to let him out, twenty minutes for them to plan their secret getaway. How romantic. “Trust me, babe,” I said, clicking my car keys. “I’m a great driver. I’ll get you there in record time.” I glanced at the suitcase as she wheeled it past. Get ready for the ride of your life, kiddo. We walked out to the parking lot. To get there, we had to cross a long stretch of decorative cobblestone. Lydia winced with every thump-thump-thump of the suitcase wheels hitting the uneven stones. The sound was loud, rhythmic, and undoubtedly jarring for anyone inside. Her brow was furrowed in sympathy, as if she were the one feeling every jolt. “Oof—” A low, muffled cry drifted out from the suitcase seams. I pretended not to hear it, even as the comments on my “screen” went into a frenzy. [Oh my god, that has to hurt so much.] [My poor baby… stop shaking him!] Lydia stopped. Without a word, she bent down and hoisted the massive, heavy suitcase into her arms, carrying it the rest of the way. I gave her a sweet, puzzled smile. “Honey, that thing is huge. Why are you carrying it? That’s what wheels are for.” Lydia’s jaw was set. “The noise. I don’t want to disturb the neighbors.” The comments swooned: [God, look at that strength. She’s such a queen. Total protector energy!] [We all know she’s fierce in the bedroom, but this? This is love.] By the time we reached the car, Lydia’s arms were shaking from the effort. As she buckled her seatbelt, I saw her right hand trembling with exhaustion. I smiled to myself. I remembered three years ago, when we were hiking and I’d twisted my ankle. I’d asked her to help me down the trail, and she’d snapped at me for being “dramatic” and “needy.” She wouldn’t bend her “noble” knees for me then. But for the man in the box? She’d carry him across broken glass. Once in the car, I didn’t start the engine. I adjusted my hair in the rearview mirror. Then, I slowly opened the GPS and started typing in the address, one letter at a time. Lydia was vibrating with anxiety. After five minutes of me “fiddling” with the settings, she broke. “Callum, please. Can we just go? I’m really running late.” “Sorry, baby,” I said. The word baby felt heavy on my tongue. In five years of marriage, she had only called me that twice. She had been my senior in college, the “Ice Queen” of the law department. Every guy on campus had been obsessed with her. I had spent a year playing the devoted puppy, chasing her until I’d finally worn her down. I thought I’d won the prize. I thought the coldness was just a mask. But even after we married, the ice never melted. Every touch, every “I love you,” felt like something I had to earn. And yet, here she was, throwing terms of endearment at me just to protect the guy in the trunk. I slammed my foot on the gas. The Porsche roared to life and surged out of the driveway. “Slow down!” Lydia gasped. I ignored her. I hit a red light and slammed on the brakes. THUD. The suitcase flew forward in the trunk, hitting the back of the seats with a violent crack. Lydia’s face contorted in pain, but she didn’t dare scream. I drove toward the station, humming to myself. “You know, honey,” I said conversationally, “I was thinking about that boy I’ve been sponsoring.” Lydia’s head snapped toward me. “Why are you bringing that up now?” Her reaction was the final piece of the puzzle. I knew it. It was Toby. Toby Vance. The boy from the rural scholarship program my father’s foundation had funded for a decade. I’d personally seen to it that he got out of his small town, got through undergrad, and got into grad school. This was his gratitude. I sighed, putting on a show of regret. “I just feel bad. If I hadn’t introduced you to Toby, you wouldn’t have had to waste all that time helping him with his thesis because you felt sorry for him.” “Why are you talking about this?” Lydia’s voice was sharp with suspicion. A year ago, we’d taken Toby out to dinner to celebrate his upcoming graduation. He’d cried at the table—real, fat tears. “Callum, Lydia, you guys are my saviors. My advisor is failing me. If I don’t pass this thesis, I lose everything.” He’d claimed he was falling behind because he was working three part-time jobs. I’d found that odd; I sent him $2,000 a month for “living expenses.” It wasn’t a fortune, but it was plenty for a student. Before I could ask him about the money, Lydia had stepped in. “I’ll write it for you,” she’d said. I’d pulled her aside later. Writing a student’s thesis was academic suicide if she got caught. But she’d brushed me off. “He’s a poor kid from the sticks, Callum. He shouldn’t lose his future over one paper. You wouldn’t understand. You’ve always looked down on him because of where he’s from. That $2,000 a month? It’s an insult. It’s patronizing.” She had blamed me. Looking back, that dinner must have been the start of it. I forced a smile. “I’m just worried about your tenure review. If the committee finds out you ghost-wrote a student’s work, they’ll destroy you. It’s academic fraud, Lydia.” The comments started flying again: [Please! She was just being a decent person. Callum has such a dirty mind.] [Is Toby not suffered enough? He had to work at a dive bar for a year just to pay back a roommate for a bag he accidentally ripped. If Callum hadn’t been so stingy with the allowance, Toby wouldn’t have been so stressed!] [Callum basically pushed them together. He deserves to be cheated on.] [Just drive the car! My baby is suffocating in the trunk!] [Wait…] [Why is Callum staring at the trunk so much? Does he know?] [Can he see us?] I kept my eyes on the road. We were approaching a busy intersection. The light turned yellow. I floored it. CRUNCH. I “accidentally” clipped the bumper of the SUV in front of me. SLAM. The car behind us rear-ended me. A three-car pileup. I turned to Lydia, looking sheepish. “I’m so sorry, babe. I thought I could make the light, but the guy in front slammed on his brakes…” Lydia didn’t even wait for me to finish. She was out of the car in a second. When she saw the crumpled rear of the Porsche, she looked like she was about to have a stroke. I pulled out my phone. “I’ll call the cops and a tow truck.” Lydia grabbed my wrist. “No. Don’t call the police. It’s your fault anyway.” “I have to call insurance, Lydia.” “I’m in a hurry! Just give them your card and settle it privately!” When I insisted on calling 911, her composure finally shattered. She snatched my phone away, her voice rising to a scream. “Callum! What is wrong with you today? Are you seriously throwing a tantrum because I didn’t tell you about a business trip? You are acting like a spoiled brat!” The drivers from the other cars were standing nearby, and Lydia’s outburst went silent across the road. Everyone was staring. A woman from the car behind us—a sturdy, no-nonsense lady in a flannel shirt—marched over. She had a thick Philly accent. “Hey, lady! What’s your problem? Is that any way to talk to your husband?” Lydia looked at her like she was an insect. “Excuse me? Who are you?” The woman stood her ground, hands on her hips. “I’m the person you just backed into, honey. And I might drive a beat-up Ford, but I’ve never yelled at my man in the middle of the street like a banshee.” She turned to me and lowered her voice. “Don’t let her walk over you, sweetie. I’ll stay here and give the statement.” Then, she looked at the trunk. “You’re going on a trip, right?” She reached for the latch. “Let me help you with this bag. I’ll put it on the curb so she can grab her Uber and leave you in peace.” She grabbed the red suitcase before either of us could react. She hoisted it over her head with surprising strength. “Jesus!” she grunted. “What’s in here? A dead body?”

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After my brother ended up in the ER because I “accidentally” fed him mangoes—despite his allergy—my mother’s fury solidified into a terrifying new reality. She forced me to link my phone and a wearable bio-patch to an app called “The Virtuous Child.” From that moment on, she held the remote to my life. Every time my behavior deviated from her expectations, she would trigger a remote electric pulse. If I resisted, the voltage climbed until my world went black. Today was the first day of the spring semester, and Mom was taking my brother to the Oceanside Pier for a celebratory outing. I wasn’t invited, but I followed them anyway, a ghost trailing in their wake. At the amusement park, my brother, Leo, was face-deep in a bowl of mango sorbet. Mom was leaning against a railing, laughing with her best friend. “The new immunotherapy cleared up his allergy months ago,” Mom said, her voice breezy and light. “I just told Madison he was still allergic because I wanted to test her. I needed to see if I could break that stubborn streak of hers once and for all.” “Isn’t that a bit extreme?” her friend asked. Mom shrugged, adjusting her sunglasses. “It’s for her own good. One day, when she’s a functional, disciplined adult, she’ll thank me for it.” I stood frozen in the crowd, the sea breeze chilling the sweat on my neck. It had all been a lie. The guilt that had been eating me alive for weeks was a weapon she had forged herself. Suddenly, the alarm on Mom’s phone shrieked. A notification from the app: User has left the designated home perimeter. Her face contorted. In a fit of rage, she swiped the slider to the maximum setting and tapped the “Emergency Recall” command. The app issued the highest-priority directive: Return Home at Maximum Speed. I felt the surge before I saw it. My body wasn’t mine anymore. My legs moved with a mechanical, violent force, propelled by the high-frequency pulses hitting my nervous system. I didn’t walk; I lunged. I vaulted over the pier’s safety railing, my body a puppet jerked by invisible wires. I hit the freezing Atlantic water with a bone-shattering slap. I tried to scream for help, but the app’s “Correction Mode” had been triggered by my “disobedience.” As I struggled to stay afloat, my own hands—defying my brain’s desperate pleas—began to strike my own face. Hard. Rhythmic. Over and over. My mouth opened, but instead of “Help,” I was forced to scream “I’m sorry!” until my lungs filled with salt water. When Mom returned from the pier three hours later, she found me sitting perfectly upright at my desk, a textbook open in front of me. She looked at me, her expression shifting from anger to a smug, icy satisfaction. “See?” she whispered, patting my shoulder. “I knew you could be a good girl if you tried.” But Mom, you don’t understand. I drowned three hours ago. I’m finally the perfect daughter you always wanted. I’ll never disobey you again. … I am sitting at my desk, wearing my damp school hoodie, staring at a page of Hemingway. Mom and Leo burst through the front door, the smell of salt and sugar trailing behind them. Leo is clutching a giant blue-and-pink cotton candy cloud, his face smeared with sticky joy. The tension in Mom’s forehead vanishes the moment she sees me. “Look at you, Maddie. So studious. I knew that ‘Recall’ command would remind you where you belong.” She reaches out and brushes a stray hair from my forehead. Her fingers linger for a second, but she doesn’t seem to notice the unnatural, marble-like chill of my skin. To her, I’m just finally acting “cool” and collected. Leo skips into my room, waving his prize like a trophy. “Look what Mom got me, Mads! It’s the Mega-Cloud. You didn’t get one because you were bad.” I used to love those. A year ago, I begged Mom for one for three months. She finally gave in, but the second I took a bite, Leo started wailing. He wanted mine. Without a word, Mom snatched the cone from my hand and handed it to him. “You’re the big sister, Maddie,” she had said, her voice tight with that familiar, exhausted edge. “You need to learn to share.” “But it’s mine,” I’d whispered. “I haven’t even had two bites.” She sighed, kneeling down so she was eye-level with me. Her eyes weren’t kind; they were heavy with the weight of her own disappointment. “It’s just sugar, Madison. If it makes your brother happy, why can’t you just let him have it? Why do you have to be so difficult?” “He wants everything,” I muttered. “What did you say?” I’d looked at the floor and gone silent. I learned early that silence was the only shield I had left. Now, Mom pulls out her phone and snaps a photo of me at my desk. I feel my spirit—the real me, the one hovering a few inches above the chair—drift over her shoulder. I watch as she types a caption for her Instagram: While other kids are out getting into trouble, my Maddie is at home, ahead of her studies. So proud of the young woman she’s becoming. #ParentingWin #TheVirtuousChild Almost instantly, the pings start. Wow, Maddie is so disciplined! You’ve done such an amazing job with her, Kate. What’s your secret? I wish my daughter was half as obedient as yours! Mom’s lips curl into a thin, triumphant smile. She immediately starts replying with links to the app’s landing page. The phone rings. She walks out to the balcony to take it, and I follow, a silent shadow. “Yeah, we got the tickets you sent. Thanks, Sarah,” Mom says. “Oh, Maddie had a blast. She and Leo spent the whole day on the rides. You know how much she loves the boardwalk.” The lies come so easily to her. The caller is my godmother, Sarah, who lives in London. She’s the only one who ever really saw me. “Really? I’m so glad,” Sarah’s voice crackles through the speaker. “I remembered her saying she wanted to ride the old wooden coaster in that video call last month. Did she like it?” “She loved it. She couldn’t stop smiling. She told me to tell you ‘thank you’ the second we got home.” “That’s my girl. I was worried she’d be cooped up. Kids need a little rebellion, Kate, it’s healthy.” Mom’s voice hardens. “She’s just… stubborn, Sarah. You don’t live with her. You don’t see the tantrums. I’m doing the hard work here.” “Maddie, stubborn? She’s the most sensitive kid I know. Maybe you’re just pushing too hard.” “You see her twice a year. I see her every day. I think I know my own daughter.” I feel a pang of ghostly grief. Those tickets—they were meant for me. On Mom’s screen, a red warning box pops up. It’s an alert from the app’s log. WARNING: User terminal experienced severe overload during High-Priority Command. System rebooted automatically. When she had issued that “Return Home” command at the pier, the app had flashed a disclaimer. It was still in its beta phase. It warned against using the maximum voltage for extended periods. But she had been too blinded by the “disobedience” of me leaving the house. She hadn’t cared about the system limits. She just wanted me to hurt enough to come back. She scrolls down to the developer’s manual in the app’s settings. I lean in, reading the bold, red text that she quickly brushes past: DANGER: During the beta phase, overload commands may cause unknown biological risks, including but not limited to sudden cardiac arrest or respiratory failure… Mom hangs up the phone and glances back at me through the glass. For a split second, a flicker of unease crosses her face. I’m too still. I haven’t turned a page in ten minutes. But then Leo screams because he dropped his cotton candy on the rug, and she turns away, her motherly duties calling her back to the “good” child. I look down at my body. I remember the moment the command hit. I remember my legs stepping over the railing. I remember my mind screaming Stop! while my muscles obeyed the phone in her hand. I remember hitting the water. I was the captain of the varsity swim team. I knew how to survive. I knew how to tread water. But the app wouldn’t let me tread. Every time I tried to stroke, it forced my arms to fly up and slap my own face. It forced me to gasp “I’m sorry” into the waves until the water became my only breath. I stayed at the bottom of the lake for a long time. Then, the app forced me to walk. I walked along the lake bed, then up the shore, and three miles home, dripping and hollow. It wasn’t a hallucination. I really am dead. David—my dad—finally gets home from his week-long business trip around noon. He’s a middle manager at a logistics firm, always smelling of stale coffee and the faint scent of the cigarettes he smokes in secret to cope with the stress. He sees me sitting at the desk. “Maddie? You’re awfully quiet today. Everything okay?” Mom rushes to the foyer to greet him, eager to show off her progress. “I told you, David. She just needed a firmer hand. Since I started using the new tech, look at her. Not a single word of backtalk.” Dad looks at me, a shadow of doubt crossing his face, but he says nothing. He places a long, professional-looking tube on the entryway table. “That’s the vintage architectural rendering for the Miller project,” he says, his voice weary. “It’s a thirty-thousand-dollar original. If the presentation goes well on Monday, the partner bonus is easily six figures.” Mom’s eyes light up. She looks at him with a sudden, rare surge of affection. Dad starts laying out the snacks he bought at the airport—beef jerky, artisanal chips. Leo dives in, tearing open bags like a wild animal. My body, tethered to the app’s “Focus Mode,” remains perfectly still. Dad tears open a bag of jerky and holds it out toward me. “Want a piece, Mads?” Hovering in the air, I scream: Yes! Please! I’m so hungry. But my body has no command to eat. It stays frozen. Mom intercepts. “She’s fine, Dave. She’s learned that we don’t snack between meals anymore. It’s about discipline.” Dad frowns, pulling the bag back. “I don’t like this, Kate.” He drops the bag on the table. “Using an app to remote-control a teenager? It costs us three grand a month, and for what? She looks like a mannequin. She doesn’t have any… life in her.” Mom’s face turns pale with indignation. “I am parenting her. You have no idea how difficult she was while you were gone.” “Parenting is one thing, this is another.” Dad points at me. “She’s like a piece of wood. You don’t think that’s weird?” Feeling her pride wounded, Mom’s thumb flies to the app. “You think it’s a problem? I’ll show you how much of a ‘problem’ it is. It’s efficiency.” She types a command. Serve tea to Father. Immediately. My body stands up. It doesn’t transition; it just is standing. It walks to the kitchen with the precision of a surgical robot. I drift behind it, watching as my hands grip the kettle. If I were alive, I might be nervous. I might spill a drop. But the app doesn’t allow for human error. The tea is poured perfectly. The tray is balanced with mathematical certainty. My gait is measured, every step exactly twelve inches. As I approach the table, Leo—bored and looking for a reaction—sticks his foot out. It’s his favorite game. Usually, I’d stumble, Mom would scream that I was clumsy, and I’d spend the night grounded. But today, under the app’s control, my body doesn’t have a human “trip” reflex. When my foot hits Leo’s, my body doesn’t lurch or regain its balance. It remains rigid as it falls forward. The scalding tea flies through the air, dousing the entryway table. The hot liquid soaks through the cardboard tube. The thirty-thousand-dollar vintage rendering inside is instantly saturated, the rare ink bleeding into a hideous, yellowed smear. Dad’s face goes from shock to a terrifying, bruised purple in three seconds. He lunges for the tube, pulling out the half-ruined parchment, his hands shaking with a violent tremor. Mom starts shrieking. “You stupid, clumsy girl! Look what you did! You ruin everything!” She screams, lunging forward to shove my shoulder. My body doesn’t react. It just stands there, staring blankly, because it has no new instructions. Dad is blinded by rage. He points a finger inches from my nose. “Do you have any idea what you just did to this family? Do you have any idea how much work went into this?” I know, Dad. I know. I hover in the air, watching him roar and Mom scream. To save the project, Dad skips lunch and rushes the drawing to a professional restoration expert across town. Mom’s resentment curdles into something truly ugly. She decides I don’t get to eat for the rest of the day. More than that, she slides the “Punishment Level” to the maximum setting. Fortunately, it doesn’t hurt anymore. I watch with a strange, detached curiosity as my body twitches and spasms on the floor from the massive surges of electricity. Then, it goes still again. I look like a doll that a child has broken and tossed aside. That evening, Mrs. Gable, the neighbor from down the street, stops by. She’s a notorious gossip with a voice like a foghorn. “I saw your post on Facebook, Kate! You said Madison had a complete change of heart? I had to see it for myself.” Mom’s vanity is easily stoked. She calls me out of my room to display her handiwork. “Madison, honey, why don’t you get Mrs. Gable a glass of ice water?” My body executes the command with robotic stiffness. Mrs. Gable watches my movements, her eyes wide. “My god! It’s incredible! She’s better behaved than your Golden Retriever!” At the mention of the dog, Mom smiles. We don’t have a dog, but we do have my grandmother’s prized possession: a Congo African Grey parrot named Winston. The bird is brilliant, a legacy left to Grandma by a wealthy friend. Grandma holds the power in this family—she owns the house, has a massive pension, and millions in savings. Mom, who hasn’t worked in fifteen years, lives in constant fear of being cut off. To impress Mrs. Gable even further, Mom issues a new command. “Go on, Madison. Give Winston some sunflower seeds.” My body turns toward the sunroom where the cage sits. Winston seems to sense something is wrong. He flutters his wings nervously, letting out a sharp, piercing squawk. Mrs. Gable laughs. “He’s a feisty one, isn’t he?” Leo wanders over, looking up with wide, innocent eyes. “Mom, can I help Maddie feed him?” Mom is in a good mood now. “Sure, sweetie. Just be careful.” Leo runs to the cage. Just as “I” reach in to place the seeds in the tray, Leo yanks the cage door wide open. “Fly, Winston! Go play!” The parrot shoots out like an arrow. Terrified, it streaks across the living room, crashing into a vase on the coffee table. Mrs. Gable screams. Mom’s face goes ghost-white. “Madison! Catch him! Now!” she screams into the app, her voice shrill with panic. “Catch him” is interpreted by the app as a maximum-priority physical task. My body enters a state of hyper-acceleration. It moves with a terrifying, unnatural speed, lunging toward the bird. There is no grace in the movement, only momentum. Target: the flying object. The parrot flies toward the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. My body is right behind it. A split second before the bird hits the glass, my hand closes around it. There is a sickening crunch. A single, strangled chirp. My body turns around slowly, its hand opening. Winston, once vibrant and full of life, lies limp in my palm. His neck is bent at a grotesque, impossible angle. Mom rushes over, sobbing as she snatches the bird’s body. Her other hand swings around, slapping my face with everything she has. “I told you to catch him, not kill him! You monster! You cursed, miserable girl!” My head snaps to the side. It stays there, tilted at a weird, lifeless angle that no living person could maintain. A new command arrives: No dinner. Go to your room and stay there. At the table, Leo chews on a piece of pot roast, his cheeks bulging. “Mom, this meat is really good today.” I drift in the air, looking down at the “domestic bliss” of my family. Missing dinner doesn’t bother me. My stomach is still full of the murky, cold lake water I swallowed this morning. It tastes like silt and iron. The next day, Grandma returns from her weekend trip. The moment she walks in, she sees me standing in the center of the living room, my palm still held out as if I’m holding something. I’ve been standing like this for fourteen hours. When she realizes what’s missing, the color drains from her face. “Where’s Winston?” Mom starts crying instantly. “Oh, Mom! Thank God you’re back. It’s Madison… she… she snapped his neck. She just killed him for no reason!” Grandma snatches the small, cold body of her bird, her lips trembling. Dad walks in at that exact moment. He hasn’t slept; his eyes are bloodshot and sunken. “Your daughter! She killed Winston!” Grandma wails, nearly collapsing. Mom starts listing my “crimes” from the day before—the ruined drawing, the bird. Leo sits in the corner, head down. Dad, usually the peacemaker, slams his hand onto the dining table so hard the plates rattle. He stares at me—the silent, unblinking shell of a girl. “What is wrong with you?” he roars. “Since yesterday, you haven’t said a single word! You ruined my career, you killed your grandmother’s bird! Say something! Anything!” Finally. Someone noticed the silence. Floating in the air, I feel a flicker of warmth. Someone is finally looking at me. But my body doesn’t react. It remains in its “Idle Mode,” staring at a spot on the wall. Grandma speaks up, her voice low and dangerous. “Madison wouldn’t just do this. Not to Winston.” “Winston is gone, and my heart is broken. But I want to know what happened to my granddaughter.” She looks at Mom. “That software. The one you’ve been using. You installed it, didn’t you?” Mom’s voice goes small. “Mom, it was for her own good…” “For her own good?” Grandma stands up straight, her voice carrying a weight I’ve never heard before. “You turned a child into… this? You call this ‘good’?” I look at Grandma. I always thought she preferred Leo. I thought she looked at me with coldness. But seeing her defend me now feels like a knife in my ghostly chest. It’s a kindness I wasn’t prepared for. Dad’s fury boils over. He lunges at me, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me violently. “Give me a reaction! Cry! Scream! Do something, you brat!” Under the force of the shaking, my head lolls uselessly. My body is a ragdoll, offering no resistance. The eerie, limp silence finally makes Dad stop. Behind him, Leo—scared by the violence—begins to sob. Between gasps, he lets out a sentence that stops time. “Yesterday… at the pier… Maddie jumped in the water. She kept hitting herself… and saying sorry… over and over…” Mom’s face turns the color of ash. She remembers the “Severe Overload” warning. Dad’s eyes go wide. He lets go of my shoulders. His hand trembles as he reaches out to touch my wrist. No pulse. He moves his hand to my nose. No breath. The anger on his face is replaced by a primal, soul-deep terror.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “404094”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I married Gideon Foster three years ago, and he gave me the cold shoulder for nine hundred and ninety-nine days. To please his new lover, he personally beat me half to death with a salt-soaked whip. Everyone thought I died in that brutal attack. He knelt at my grave in repentance for three years. Then came the day I removed my mask at my book signing in London. He rushed up, eyes red, arms open. But the man beside me smiled and pulled me close. “Let me introduce you. This is my wife. And you are?” Lydia POV Three years into my marriage, on the 999th day of the cold war between Gideon and me, I received a call from the hospital. “Mrs. Foster, your prenatal checkup scheduled for this week has been arranged for Friday afternoon. Please remember to arrange your time in advance. You’re already two months pregnant. Your last checkup was very healthy. Have you experienced any discomfort recently?” My heart lurched. Even my breathing felt painful. I opened my mouth, about to say something, when another voice came from the other end of the line. “Hang up quickly, you called the wrong number!” “I didn’t call the wrong number. This is Mrs. Foster’s phone!” “Oh my, this Mrs. Foster is not that Mrs. Foster!” “What do you mean?” The girl who called me was clearly confused. The next second, the call was disconnected. My chest felt tight, a dull ache slowly spreading through my chest. Counting the days, the child Gideon and I lost was also conceived around this time three years ago. On Friday, I went to the hospital emergency room for severe abdominal pain. The rolling screen in the hospital lobby continuously displayed intimate photos of Gideon with another woman, Sophia Mitchell. In the photos, Gideon looked at her with such tenderness it made my eyes burn. “To celebrate Mrs. Foster, the wife of our hospital’s largest shareholder, being pregnant, all patient expenses at our hospital this month will be covered by Mr. Foster.” “Mr. Foster is so good to his wife.” “That’s nothing. Did you hear? Mr. Foster is also investing ten billion to establish a school here, saying it will be named after his future child!” I held the test results, slightly dazed. Suddenly, several security guards walked over. “Sorry everyone, Mr. Foster is bringing his wife to the hospital for a prenatal checkup. This passage is temporarily closed to the public. Please take an alternate route.” The crowd stirred, and I was accidentally pushed and fell to the ground. I struggled to get up, but was stepped on several times by people behind me and pushed down again. “Out of the way! What are you doing, coming here to play the victim?” The security guard’s baton pressed against my shoulder. “Stop pretending, get up quickly! Get lost! If you delay Mr. Foster and his wife’s business in a moment, can you afford to compensate?” “She’s probably using her looks, waiting here to catch Mr. Foster’s attention. Does she even know her place?” People around were pointing and gossiping at me. “Girls these days have no shame. She’s just trying to ruin someone else’s marriage!” Someone took advantage of the chaos to push me hard again. My arm hit the ground, and the skin on my elbow was torn open in a long strip. I gasped in pain. Looking up, the exclusive VIP elevator door on one side opened. Gideon walked out with a gentle expression, holding her in his arms. Sophia’s cheeks were flushed with shy redness as she cooed. “There are so many people. Put me down quickly. I can walk by myself.” Gideon refused without hesitation. “How can that be okay? Didn’t the doctor just say you need to be careful now?” “That’s all because of you. I’m already pregnant, and last night you still couldn’t help yourself, insisting on…” “That’s because you’re too tempting.” The two were saying explicit sweet nothings. Looking up, Gideon saw me on the ground, and his expression changed drastically. Although I had already tried very hard to minimize my presence. But in the next second, Gideon’s icy voice still poured down on me like a basin of cold water. “What are you doing here?” I clutched the test results in my hand tightly. Just as I was about to speak, Sophia beside him spoke up first. “She must also be here for a checkup, right? She should take good care of her body and try to get pregnant soon!” My fingers stiffened slightly. The convulsing pain in my heart covered the pain in my arm. Gideon also, because of her words, instantly looked at me with a hundred times more disgust and loathing. He walked past holding Sophia, his foot crushing hard over my delicate fingers. He didn’t even look at me once, leaving only an extremely cold remark. “She’s not worthy!”

Lydia POV The two walked away. The crowd dispersed. It took me quite a while to struggle up from the ground in embarrassment. The sympathetic and pitying looks from people around me shattered my heart, which had been as hard as stone. I stared blankly in the direction where Gideon and Sophia left, and memories that had been torn apart came flying back at me like a boomerang. No one remembered anymore how deeply Gideon loved me three years ago. Although our marriage was arranged, it was also love at first sight. On the night of our engagement, Gideon set off the grandest fireworks show for me across the entire city. In the fireworks show, there were patterns he personally designed, depicting the happiness of our remaining eighty years of life, from a family of two to being surrounded by children and grandchildren in old age. Just because I casually mentioned that yellow roses were my favorite flowers, Gideon had people plant large fields of yellow roses throughout the city. No matter where I went, at home or out, everywhere I looked there were flowers he specially planted for me. He even bought me 365 stars, naming each one after the letters he wrote for me. Gideon said. “Lydia, from now on, you are my one and only. I will spoil you into the happiest woman in the world.” And he truly did it. In the first six months after marriage, thanks to the romance and love he gave me, those were the happiest times of my life. Only a car accident six months after our marriage completely changed the trajectory of our lives. I was already more than three months pregnant at that time, with my belly slightly swollen. In that car, there were three people but four lives. In the end, only I survived Gideon, who rushed to the scene after receiving the call, seemed crazy at that moment. His bloodshot eyes were savage. It broke my heart to see him like that. He shouted at me. “Lydia, you killed my mother! You also killed our child!” He said. “What exactly did you do? Why was Preston in your car? Where were you two going?” He questioned me over and over again. “Lydia, have all your feelings for me been fake all this time? You’ve been unable to forget him, still harboring feelings for him, right? For your lover, you killed my mother and my child!” My mind was in a fog. I felt helpless. I touched my flat belly and replayed the accident in my mind. The violent impact. The blood. The way it poured down my legs. I couldn’t control it. I didn’t know how to explain Preston’s presence in the car that day to Gideon either. It was only then that I learned Preston was Linda Foster’s illegitimate son, Gideon’s mother. Linda had begged me not to reveal his identity. So I couldn’t speak up. But my prolonged silence was interpreted by Gideon as confirmation. When the doctor said I had injured my uterus and could never bear children again in this lifetime, Gideon became extremely calm. He said. “Lydia, this is what you owe me. You’ll spend your entire life atoning for this.” It was from that moment that we began a cold war that lasted three years. He openly flaunted other women outside. Around that time, explicit photos of him with other women would appear on my phone. I’d occasionally find sexy lingerie left in the corners of the house, clearly worn by someone else. Even my car wasn’t spared. Opening the door, I’d often be hit by a pungent smell. I would always find several torn condom wrappers in Gideon’s coat pockets. I knew this was Gideon’s silent declaration of war against me. Just as Gideon said, this was what I owed him. Only now, he already had a child with another woman. I felt that what I owed him should be paid off soon. On the way home, I made an important decision.

Lydia POV I went to have my identity wiped from the system. In one month, this identity of mine would disappear from the entire world. Everything about me would cease to exist. I would wait until Sophia was three months pregnant, until the baby in her belly was stable, then I would change my identity and leave here to start my new life. I returned home. Every servant looked at me strangely. I vaguely guessed what had happened in my heart. Walking in, I saw all my clothes thrown at the bedroom door like garbage. Gideon had his arm around Sophia’s still-slender waist, saying matter-of-factly. “Sophia is pregnant. I’m not comfortable with her living outside alone.” “The master bedroom is spacious with plenty of sunlight, which is good for pregnant women. So you move out!” I choked up, barely managing to get a word out. “Okay.” After all, in a month, this would be Sophia’s home anyway. But Sophia asked with a smile. “Lydia, you’re not angry, are you?” I lowered my head and said. “No.” Gideon’s expression suddenly changed. He pushed me hard, then kicked my clothes on the ground. His voice was frighteningly cold. “Take your trash and get out!” Immediately the door slammed shut. Then I heard them kissing inside, Sophia’s soft moans drifting out. I just tried hard to control my numb nerves, looking at the scattered clothes on the ground. They still had messy footprints on them. I silently organized my things like picking up garbage. On the other side, the butler kept bringing several people to deliver countless shopping bags for Sophia. “These are all the latest seasonal items from the mall. Mr. Foster had us send them according to your measurements.” Gideon couldn’t wait to move the entire mall home for Sophia. There were people wearing gloves specially organizing these expensive clothes and jewelry for her. “Gideon, you don’t need to spend so much money. In a few months, my belly will get bigger and I won’t be able to wear these anyway.” Sophia pouted, clinging sweetly to Gideon’s arm. “These are nothing. Sophia, you’re carrying my child. Even if you want the stars and moon, I’ll find a way to give them to you.” “Gideon, you’re so good to me.” Separated by a wall, the more I didn’t want to hear, the more their voices drilled into my ears uncontrollably. I sat on the edge of the bed in a daze. Suddenly a roar from Gideon came from the villa. “Lydia!” “Lydia, where are you!” I immediately opened the door and walked out. Shirtless, Gideon opened the master bedroom door, his eyes coldly fixed on me. “We’re out of condoms at home. You go out and buy some!” “Get the most expensive ones, the ultra-thin kind!” My brain went blank for a moment. I didn’t react. What? “Can’t you understand? What are you standing there for?” “I…” I hesitated, then tentatively said, “But she’s pregnant, isn’t she? You can’t do it now, right?” Gideon’s eyes instantly carried a hint of deeper meaning, as if he was sizing me up. He raised an eyebrow and asked. “Lydia, do you care very much?” “Are you worried about her, or are you actually feeling sad too?” Gideon stared directly into my eyes. I understood what he meant and immediately explained. “It’s better to be careful during the first three months of pregnancy.” The air was briefly quiet for a few seconds before Gideon shouted at me again. “I said go buy them, so go buy them! Get out!” The sound of the door slamming made me shiver involuntarily. Half an hour later, I handed the box of condoms I bought back to Gideon. But Gideon wasn’t planning to let me off so easily. He found a random excuse to make me stand outside the door. Inside the door were continuous moans. Outside the door was me, standing there like being pressed on a chopping board and slowly sliced apart. I stood until the sky darkened. My two legs were already stiff and numb before Gideon opened the door. “Clean up inside. The sheets and the clothes all need to be hand-washed.” Gideon instructed me. Sophia’s neck was covered with purple-blue marks, her face still flushed with redness as she looked at me shyly. “Lydia, the servants have rough hands. I’m afraid they’ll ruin the clothes. I can only trouble you. You won’t be angry, will you?” I didn’t speak. Gideon snorted. “She has no right to be angry.” After saying that, he picked up Sophia, and the two sweetly entered the bathroom. Looking at the mess the bed, the carpet, the bay window all marked with traces of intimacy I dug my nails into my palm. I tried to drown the ache in my chest with physical pain, but my heart still throbbed, and I didn’t know how to make it stop. I could only move like a ghost, mechanically stripping the sheets and gathering the clothes to wash. I tried hard to force myself not to recall, but the scene from three years ago of Gideon holding my hand like a treasure kept replaying in my mind. He said then. “Lydia, I will never let these hands do any housework again. I’ll spoil you until the whole world envies you.” But now, he was making me wash another woman’s underwear. Perhaps the promises made when deeply in love were real, but the coldness after falling out of love was also real.

Lydia POV The next few days, I was busy with various procedures for canceling my identity. I left early and returned late every day, trying my best to avoid the two of them. But this evening, when I returned, the dining room was brightly lit. Gideon and Sophia sat properly at the dining table, as if deliberately waiting for me. “You’re finally back. I specially made a table full of dishes today, waiting to eat with you.” Sophia had her signature smile on her face, soft and delicate. I spoke. “I already ate outside. You two go ahead and eat.” But Gideon suddenly slammed the table hard, his voice full of anger. “Sit down! Sophia is pregnant and has been busy all afternoon. Are you going to waste her thoughtfulness like this?” “But I’m really not hungry.” The atmosphere immediately became tense. Gideon walked over and tightly gripped my neck. A strong sense of suffocation came over me. I looked at this magnified face before my eyes, my vision gradually blurring. The man’s bone-chillingly cold voice rang in my ear, carrying undisguised disgust. “Not hungry, huh? Fine, then don’t eat for three days. Let’s see if you get hungry or not.” “Lock her in her room. Without my permission, no one is allowed to let her out!” Gideon pushed me to the ground. Immediately after, the butler brought people to lock me in the room. I sat in a daze for quite a while. I didn’t know when tears started falling, soaking my clothes. The damp fabric clung tightly to my chest, feeling somewhat uncomfortably restrictive. It’s okay. Just three days. After three days, it would only be a few more days until I left. I fell into a drowsy sleep, but suddenly a noisy commotion woke me up. “Oh no, there’s a fire.” “Sophia, don’t be afraid. Nothing will happen. I’ll take you out!” I turned on the light. A pungent smell of smoke drilled in through the door crack. My heart stopped for an instant. I immediately realized this wasn’t a dream-there really was a fire. “Gideon, I think I twisted my ankle. It hurts so much. I can’t walk.” Outside the door, Sophia’s soft, delicate voice with a hint of crying drilled into my ears. “It’s okay, Sophia. I’ll carry you.” “But the fire is getting bigger and bigger.” “It doesn’t matter. I will definitely save you. You’re still carrying our child in your belly. Nothing will happen, Sophia.” Gideon so decisively, so determinedly carried her to escape. The thick smoke choked my tears, making them fall continuously. Gideon, who once regarded me as his life, now when facing danger, had only another woman in his eyes and heart. He didn’t even remember my existence at all. The entire villa was in chaos. Everyone was fleeing for their lives. Locked up, I was completely forgotten here. I tried to forcefully turn the doorknob, but the lock was locked from outside. There was no movement at all. The security window was also welded shut. I couldn’t push it open at all. Watching the fire outside getting bigger and bigger, I felt the temperature of the surrounding air rising with it. The fear in my heart gradually spread. Despair crept into my heart. Perhaps I would die here today. I sighed softly. Maybe this was for the best. If I died, perhaps Gideon wouldn’t hate me anymore. What I owed him could be completely repaid. The room was already filled with thick fog. My head swelled terribly. The strength in my body grew weaker and weaker until I finally collapsed on the ground. My consciousness faded. Gideon, I hope we never meet again in the next life. No love, no entanglement.

Lydia POV Hospital room. In a blur of consciousness, I seemed to hear Gideon’s anxious voice, hoarse. “What’s going on? Didn’t you say the examination showed no problems? Why hasn’t she woken up yet?” The doctor carefully tried to calm the irritated Gideon. “Mr. Foster, please don’t worry. She should wake up soon.” “Soon. I don’t know how you define ‘soon’? She’s been unconscious for a day and a night! I don’t care what methods you use, get her to wake up as soon as possible!” “Yes, Mr. Foster.” My head ached terribly. I slowly opened my eyes, looking at Gideon getting angry outside, and moved my fingers. It seemed I wasn’t dead yet. It seemed Sophia must also have been injured. Otherwise, Gideon wouldn’t be this nervous and angry. “Ma’am, you’re awake!” A nurse immediately ran over. A string of medical staff followed, running in to examine me. Gideon outside the door met my gaze. He first frowned, then immediately showed an expression of disgust. “Lydia, you owe me two lives. Did you think you could just die and escape? Even Satan won’t take you!” Gideon then turned and strode away, unwilling to even look at me one more time. I stared blankly, lowering my eyelids. I felt like my heart had been violently hollowed out, hurting so much I had no feeling left. The doctor told me it was firefighters who arrived in time and rescued me. I had only inhaled a large amount of smoke into my lungs. Fortunately, they rescued me in time, and there were no problems with my body. In the afternoon, after completing the discharge procedures alone, I bought a bouquet of bellflowers at a flower shop and took a taxi to the cemetery. I wanted to see Linda Foster one last time before leaving here, and Preston too. I placed the bellflowers in front of Linda Foster’s grave, looking at the familiar photo on the tombstone. A sense of loss welled up in my heart. “Gideon now has a woman he loves deeply again. They even have a child. I’m leaving.” “I’ll come back to see you when I have the chance in the future. I’m sorry.” After saying this, I walked to Preston’s grave. I had just reached out to brush the dust off Preston’s portrait when I felt a sharp gaze bore into my back. I turned my head and met Gideon’s sharp eyes. Sophia clung to Gideon’s arm. Gideon’s eyes at this moment looked murderous. He stared at me and roared. “Lydia! Just how much do you like him!” “He’s been dead for three years, and you still can’t forget him?” My breath caught in my throat, unable to go up or down. A nerve in my brain was stretched very tight. “I…” I didn’t know how to explain. “Lydia, you’re really devoted!” Gideon’s tone was full of mockery. After a moment, he spoke again in an extremely cold voice. “I’ll have someone move this bastard’s grave far away right now. How dare he be buried so close to my mother! My mother must have no peace! Someone, dig up the grave!” My eyes widened. Horror instantly crawled over every inch of my skin. I grabbed Gideon’s arm, pleading. “You can’t. Gideon, you can’t.” Gideon stared into my eyes. The resentment in his expression grew thicker. He disgustedly shook me off forcefully. “Can’t? If he’s so important to you, then why didn’t you die with him?” Every word in his sentence was like a sharp knife, stabbing viciously into my heart. I finally couldn’t control myself. Tears fell like broken beads. I kept shaking my head. No, Linda Foster would definitely want to be buried with Preston too. Sophia on the side raised her slender eyes, saying lazily. “You look really sad. If you’re willing to kneel down and lick the dust off my shoes clean, I can consider begging Gideon to spare your childhood friend.” My tears froze in my eyes. My knees trembled slightly. Gideon on the side had only coldness in his eyes. I hesitated, slowly kneeling on the ground. My knees knocked against the cold, hard ground, painfully sore. Sophia sneered, triumphantly moving her foot closer to me. A strong sense of humiliation surged into my heart. Just as I was about to touch her shoe, I suddenly felt a sweet liquid surge up in my chest. Immediately after, I uncontrollably vomited a mouthful of fresh blood and fainted on the ground. Blood splattered on Sophia’s shoes and pants. She angrily jumped up. “Gideon, these shoes were a birthday gift from you. This bitch got them dirty. What should I do?” “Don’t be angry. I’ll buy you ten more pairs when we get back.” Gideon didn’t even glance at me lying unconscious on the ground. He gently picked up Sophia and walked out. Only his cold mockery remained in my ears. “Stop pretending! It’s disgusting!”

Lydia POV A kind-hearted passerby sent me to the hospital. After diagnosis, the doctor said it was excessive worry and not eating properly that caused gastric bleeding. I needed to rest well. The hospital tried to contact Gideon several times for me, but when they called, the phone was either hung up directly or they were scolded. “How much did she pay you to act out this drama with her?” “Don’t bother me anymore! It would be best if she died!” I could hear Gideon’s irritated tone very clearly. I took back the phone the nurse handed her and helplessly curved my lips. Over these three years, I knew better than anyone that Gideon hated me to death. He had long wished I would just die. Perhaps if I died, both Gideon and I could be free. I opened my social media app and immediately saw that Sophia had posted several updates showing off their relationship. Accompanied by various happy photos of her and Gideon from different angles. “My favorite man is so good to me, booking an entire floor of the mall just for me.” “My husband knows I like sweets, so he personally made me a cake.” “How can my husband be so handsome? I can never get tired of looking at him. I’m already starting to look forward to what our son will look like. He’ll definitely be as handsome as his father.” My chest felt tight, unbearably so. I knew I shouldn’t hope for anything. I had clearly prepared myself mentally, but when I saw these things, I still couldn’t help feeling heartbroken. I put down my phone, forcing myself not to think about anything related to Gideon. Anyway, it wouldn’t be long before I left. Before going to sleep. I suddenly received a call from Gideon. I instinctively held my breath and answered. “Lydia, what the hell are you up to? I advise you not to be impulsive!” “Where did you take Sophia? If you have a problem, come at me. Don’t touch her, okay?” Gideon’s accusations hit my eardrums. I frowned, hesitating. “What do you mean? I’m at the hospital. Sophia’s situation has nothing to do with me.” “You’re still pretending? Lydia, when exactly did you become like this? You killed my mother, and I still let you sit properly in the position of Mrs. Foster. What more are you dissatisfied with? Don’t you like Preston? What did Sophia do to you that you have to go after her?” I gently rubbed my temple. I understood now. Gideon didn’t believe me. No matter what I said, Gideon firmly believed I was behind it. I took a deep breath. “Sorry, Gideon. I have nothing to say. But I advise you, if something really happened to Sophia, you should go find her as soon as possible instead of wasting time on me!” After saying that, I hung up directly. Gideon kept calling stubbornly. I simply turned off my phone. Half an hour later, Gideon came to the hospital aggressively. “Lydia! How long are you going to keep up this act? I’m giving you one last chance. Where did you hide Sophia? If you dare touch her, I’ll make your life a living hell.” Gideon’s fierce tone didn’t seem fake. I turned over and lay down with my back to Gideon. I didn’t want to say anything more. No matter what I said, Gideon wouldn’t believe it. “Lydia!” But Gideon grabbed my wrist even more angrily. I still had an IV drip in my hand. Gideon used too much force, and the blood at the needle immediately flowed back. Soon, the entire IV bottle turned a shocking pink color. Only then did Gideon awkwardly let go of me. “I said it has nothing to do with me. I didn’t do it. You’re wasting your time here.” “Lydia, I’ll say it again. If you dare harm her in the slightest, I’ll kick you out of the Foster family immediately!” Gideon’s phone rang at the right time. “Mr. Foster, we’ve found Miss Mitchell’s whereabouts.” “Good, I’ll come right away!” Gideon hung up the phone and looked at me with even more coldness in his eyes. “I’ll go save Sophia first. Today’s matter won’t end so easily. Lydia, you will pay for everything you’ve done!” He turned and left. My tears fell the moment he closed the door. My hand was badly swollen, but the pain couldn’t match the stabbing pain in my heart. The Gideon who ignored me for three years never hurt me like this. This Gideon this one who was so sure I was guilty cut deeper than any cold shoulder ever could. I endured the discomfort and browsed airline websites. I wanted to leave here as soon as I was discharged from the hospital. I couldn’t wait anymore. I didn’t want to see Gideon’s icy, emotionless eyes ever again.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “377513”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I stood by Tristan Fuller for five years when he was disabled. But the moment he recovered, he married the woman he had always loved. The one who abandoned him when he needed her most. All for company shares. He deceived me with a fake marriage license, promising we would have our wedding next month. I smiled and accepted it, then flew ten thousand miles away to New Zealand. Five years later, I returned as a ruthless investment banker to acquire his company. In the rain, he begged me to come back. But I held my husband’s hand and walked past, leaving his wheelchair behind. “Mr. Fuller, this is my wife. Please get out of the way.” Jane’s POV In the most upscale custom jewelry center downtown, soft music flowed through the VIP room. Tristan Fuller and I sat side by side on the velvet sofa. We were sharing a pair of Bluetooth earbuds, listening to a gentle love song together. Tristan lowered his head, his long fingers holding a brilliant diamond ring as he gently slipped it onto my ring finger. “Perfect fit.” He looked at my hand, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Do you like it?” He was usually aloof, but now his eyes were brimming with adoration. I looked up at him, about to nod, when an abrupt phone ring shattered the warm atmosphere. Tristan frowned slightly and pulled out his phone, glancing at the screen. One name appeared on the screen: Gabriel. Tristan’s closest friend. Tristan removed the left earbud and pressed the answer button. To keep the store employees from hearing the conversation, he habitually switched the audio to Bluetooth mode. But he forgot that the other earbud was still firmly in my right ear. “Tristan, have you lost your mind?!” Gabriel’s voice, barely containing his fury, came through the earbud loud and clear. Tristan’s expression didn’t change. He spoke calmly into the phone. “I’m helping Jane pick out her wedding ring. What’s wrong?” A sharp intake of breath came from the other end. After a few seconds, Gabriel finally exploded. “You’re still helping her pick out a wedding ring? Didn’t you just marry Sarah this morning?!” “What the hell are you thinking! When you had that car accident and became disabled, Sarah despised you for being a cripple and immediately went abroad with someone else. Now, to get that 15% of shares from the Morrison family, you actually went through with a marriage alliance with her?!” Every word from Gabriel hit me like a punch to the gut. The blood drained from my face. I felt like I’d been plunged into ice water. In my right ear, Gabriel’s interrogation continued, but Tristan sitting beside me remained perfectly composed. He even reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, then spoke lightly into the phone. “Tomorrow is Fuller Group’s shareholder meeting. I must secure the Morrison family shares to solidify my position as CEO. The title of Mrs. Fuller is just a bargaining chip I’m using to trade for those shares.” “What about Jane!” Gabriel roared through the phone. “During those five years you were disabled, who massaged your legs day and night? Who stayed with you through that hellish rehabilitation? She loved you enough to give her life for you, and for some shares, you give the legal wife position to someone else?!” Tristan’s expression remained unchanged despite Gabriel’s fury. “Jane wants my love, not a piece of paper. I’ll keep it from her. She’ll never know about this.” “How long can you hide it? You can’t keep something like this a secret forever! Jane is supposed to have a wedding with you next month!” A flash of irritation crossed Tristan’s eyes, and his tone grew heavier. “Keep this quiet. No one is allowed to say anything about my marriage to Sarah. I’ll still give Jane that grand wedding next month. I’ll have someone make a fake marriage certificate for her. As long as she stays by my side, I can give her everything except the title.” After saying this, he hung up directly. A busy signal came through the earbud. My whole body trembled, nausea churning in my stomach. I bit my lower lip hard, forcibly suppressing the urge to retch. Tristan put away his phone and was about to turn to speak to me when the screen lit up again. It was the special notification tone for priority messages. Tristan paused, clicked it open, and glanced at it. Just one glance, and the irritation in his eyes instantly vanished, replaced by barely concealed anxiety. He stood up and methodically adjusted the cuffs of his suit. “Jane, there’s an emergency meeting at the company. I need to go right away. Pick out the ring you like, charge it directly to my card, then take a cab home, okay?” His tone was soft and gentle, like the perfect fiancé. I looked at this well-dressed man before me and said nothing, only nodding woodenly. Tristan didn’t even wait for me to remove the ring. He turned and pulled open the VIP room door, striding away. The moment the door closed, I collapsed against the sofa back. Tears fell without warning. Tristan didn’t know that his supposedly perfect act had been completely betrayed by that Bluetooth earbud forgotten in my ear. Every word, every sentence-like poison-tipped knives, shredding my heart into bloody pieces. All those memories I’d deliberately buried deep in my heart were now dredged up. Tristan was a lofty heir to a wealthy family, while I was merely the daughter of the Fuller family driver. That year, I followed my father into the Fuller mansion and immediately saw Tristan sitting in a wheelchair, gloomy and irritable. He’d been in a car accident and lost all feeling in his legs. Doctors had determined he would spend his life in a wheelchair. And his childhood fiancée Sarah, the day after learning this news, unilaterally announced the engagement was off and flew abroad. The Fuller family had no shortage of healthy heirs. The disabled Tristan was quickly marginalized, thrown into a villa on the city outskirts to fend for himself. I took the initiative to ask my father and became the caregiver who looked after him at the villa. For those five years, his temper was explosive. He smashed things, went on hunger strikes, even self-harmed. I just silently followed behind him, cleaning up the wreckage. When he knocked over hot soup onto the back of my hand, causing large blisters, I only endured the pain and continued massaging his atrophying muscles. Later, I heard about a retired neurological authority abroad. I ran to the person’s door and begged in the snow for a full day and night, securing the chance for Tristan to have surgery. The surgery was successful. Tristan stood up again. He seized control of Fuller Group with ruthless tactics, becoming the most influential power player in their circle. I was the one who accompanied him through those five darkest years. I was the one who stayed with him through rehabilitation sessions where he broke out in cold sweats from pain. I was the one who kissed him, embraced him, and shared his bed. But I never imagined that the first thing he would do after reaching the top was to give the title of wife to Sarah the woman who had abandoned him. All to secure his power. He even planned to trap me with a grand wedding and a fake marriage certificate, keeping me as his dirty little secret.

Jane’s POV I don’t know how I walked out of the jewelry store. Outside, it had started raining. The autumn rain was freezing, cold enough to chill me to the bone. I didn’t bring an umbrella or call a car. I just walked aimlessly through the streets. Rain washed over my face. I couldn’t tell if what was on my face was tears or rainwater. By the time I returned to our shared penthouse, the sky had gone completely dark. The house was empty, with no lights on. I didn’t even change my clothes. I just curled up in the corner of the sofa. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard the sound of the password lock at the entrance. The door opened, and the living room lights suddenly blazed on, making me close my eyes. Tristan walked in carrying a chill. Seeing me soaked through and huddled on the sofa, he froze for a moment, then quickly walked over, his brows knitted together. “How did you end up like this? Why didn’t you call me after getting caught in the rain?” His tone carried reproach, but his movements were gentle as he grabbed a nearby towel and carefully dried my wet hair. As he drew closer, a faint cold cedar scent hit me. But I still keenly caught a trace of sweet bluebell fragrance mixed in. That was Sarah’s favorite perfume. My stomach churned. Suppressing the nausea, I imperceptibly shrank back. “My phone died.” My voice was hoarse. Tristan sighed and touched my forehead to make sure I didn’t have a fever, then relaxed slightly. “The situation at the company was too complicated. I couldn’t get away. Next time something like this happens, even if your phone is dead, find someone to borrow a phone and call me, okay?” He looked at me with eyes full of tenderness, as if I were the most precious thing in his world. I looked at this face so close to mine and suddenly felt it was very unfamiliar. How could this man manage to put on such a devoted act toward me right after registering his marriage with another woman? “Okay.” I lowered my eyes. Tristan carried me into the bathroom, personally drew a hot bath for me, and brought clean pajamas. “Take a hot bath so you don’t catch a cold. Our wedding is next month. If you get sick, it’ll break my heart.” Hearing the word “wedding,” my heart felt like it was being stabbed with a needle. I nodded and closed the bathroom door. The warm water flowed over my body but couldn’t warm my cold heart. When I came out after bathing, Tristan had changed into loungewear and was sitting on the sofa reviewing documents. Seeing me emerge, he beckoned. “Come here. Take your cold medicine.” I walked over and took the medicine. Tristan set down his documents and pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Jane, I’ve already had the wedding invitations printed. Check if there are any friends you want to invite and give me the list.” My fingers gripping the cup couldn’t help but tighten. “No need. I don’t have many friends.” Tristan kissed my temple. “Then I’ll just invite people from my side. I want everyone to know that you, Jane, are Tristan Fuller’s one and only wife.” One and only wife. I silently repeated those words in my mind, finding them utterly ironic. I set down the cup and, using tiredness as an excuse, returned to the bedroom. Lying in bed, I had just picked up my fully charged phone when the apartment doorbell suddenly rang. This late at night, who could it be? I put on a jacket and walked to the entrance, looking through the video doorbell to see a same-city courier standing outside. “Ms. Jane? There’s an express delivery for you.” I opened the door and signed for it. It was an exquisitely packaged black velvet gift box with no sender information. I took the box back to the bedroom and opened it. Inside was no gift, only several freshly developed Polaroid photos and a handwritten card that smelled of bluebell perfume. I picked up the top photo. It was a wedding photo of Tristan and Sarah. The second showed their interlocked fingers in close-up. On the man’s wrist was the watch I’d saved half a year’s salary to buy, and on Sarah’s ring finger was the brilliant diamond ring that Tristan had personally tried on my finger this morning at the jewelry store. My gaze fell on the final handwritten card. The handwriting was elegant, exuding haughty superiority. “Miss Jane, thank you for taking care of Tristan for me these past five years. But it’s time for Cinderella to wake from her dream. The only one who can help him in his career and deserves the title of Mrs. Fuller is me.” I stared at that card for a long time. I knew that if Tristan wanted to hide this from me, he absolutely wouldn’t allow Sarah to go public. So Sarah used this method to thrust the knife directly in front of me. I found it somewhat amusing. Sarah was asserting her dominance, flaunting her victory to me. But Sarah didn’t know-I no longer wanted this man. I threw the photos and card into the trash. If Tristan wanted to put on a show, then I’d play along. But I didn’t plan to act with him until the finale. I pulled up a number I hadn’t contacted in five years and sent a text. “Mrs. Fuller, does your previous offer still stand? I’m willing to take that thirty million and leave Tristan forever.”

Jane’s POV Less than a minute after I sent the text, the call came through. I glanced at the tightly closed bedroom door, pressed answer, and brought the phone to my ear. On the other end, Tristan’s mother Margaret’s voice carried barely concealed elation and condescending arrogance. “You’ve finally come to your senses?” “Of course the offer still stands! You’re a driver’s daughter. Even if Tristan protects you now, you’ll never be accepted into the Fuller family.” “Tristan has already formed a marriage alliance with Sarah. The Morrison family shares are crucial to the Fullers. I absolutely will not allow you to stay by his side and get in the way.” “Tomorrow morning at ten, come to the café in the south district. We’ll sign the agreement.” “Alright.” I nodded. After hanging up, I deleted the call record completely. The next morning, Tristan went to the company. I put on light makeup to cover the dark circles under my eyes and arrived at the appointment on time. In the tea room, Margaret’s well-maintained face was full of disdain. She pulled out an already prepared agreement from her bag and pushed it in front of me. “Sign this, and there’s no going back. You’ll get fifteen million upfront. The rest will be wired once you’re gone for good.” Margaret picked up her teacup and took a sip, her sharp gaze fixed on me. “Jane, once you take the money, you can never appear before Tristan again for the rest of your life. If I find out you’re playing any tricks, I have plenty of ways to make your life a living hell.” I lowered my eyes and looked at the string of zeros on the agreement. Thirty million. My five years of youth, five years of wholehearted devotion-turns out they’d been priced all along in the Fuller family’s eyes. Of course I wouldn’t appear again. This lifetime, next lifetime-I never wanted any connection with Tristan Fuller again. Without the slightest hesitation, I picked up the pen on the table and decisively signed my name on the last page. Seeing me put pen to paper, Margaret finally relaxed and put the agreement in her bag. “I’ll give you one month. Whether you go to another city or abroad, after one month, I don’t want to see you here anymore.” “Don’t worry.” I stood up. “I’ll disappear completely.” After leaving the tea room, I didn’t return to the company. Instead, I found an internet café and booked a private booth. Making it so Tristan could never find me was actually quite simple. The Fuller family had deep military and political roots going back generations, but they also had a fatal weakness. For three generations, direct members of the Fuller family had been strictly forbidden from leaving the country, let alone immigrating. As long as I left this country, even if Tristan had eyes everywhere, he couldn’t cross that red line. I sat at the computer for a full four hours, reviewing massive amounts of immigration information. Finally, I locked my sights on New Zealand. The climate there was mild, the land vast with few people, and most importantly, it was over ten thousand kilometers away. After deciding on the destination, I contacted a top-tier immigration agency. “Jane, your qualifications meet New Zealand’s skilled migration requirements. But going through normal procedures will take most of a year.” The agent said, flipping through my materials. “I’m in a hurry.” “If we go through the expedited channel, money is no object. How soon can it be done?” The agent’s eyes lit up. “If funding is in place, we can go through special channels. At most twenty days, and the visa will be approved.” “Good. Process that one.” After paying the deposit, I walked out of the agency office. The sunlight was so bright I could barely open my eyes. Twenty days. That was my final countdown by Tristan’s side. In the afternoon, I returned to Fuller Group. I was Tristan’s executive assistant, the only one in the entire office who could make decisions on his behalf. When I handed my resignation letter to the HR director, the other party was so shocked their jaw nearly dropped. “Jane, you… aren’t you getting married to Mr. Fuller next month? Why are you resigning now?” I smiled. “Wedding preparations are exhausting. Tristan feels bad for me, so he’s letting me go home and be a full-time wife.” The HR director had an epiphany, offered repeated congratulations, and readily approved my resignation. Walking out of the Fuller building carrying a cardboard box, I looked back at the towering structure. Five years. I accompanied Tristan from a wheelchair to standing, accompanied him as he built this empire. Now, I was going to throw all of this, along with that man, straight into the garbage. That evening, when Tristan came home and saw the cardboard box in the entrance, he paused. Learning that I’d resigned, not only did he not get angry, he actually hugged me from behind, his face full of affection. “You should have resigned long ago. From now on, just stay home obediently and be my Mrs. Fuller. I’ll take care of you for life.” I leaned against him, listening to his strong heartbeat, finding it utterly ironic. Mrs. Fuller? Was that the joke holding a fake marriage certificate, deceived by everyone?

Jane’s POV Over the next several days, Tristan seemed to be trying to compensate for that bit of guilt in his heart, becoming increasingly attentive to me. He pushed aside several unimportant social engagements and came home on time every day to have dinner with me. On the weekend, he even proactively suggested taking me to try on wedding dresses. In the most upscale custom wedding dress boutique downtown, the attendant carefully zipped up the back. This wedding dress was the swan song of a top European designer. There was only one in the entire world. I looked at myself in the mirror wearing the pure white wedding dress and only wanted to laugh. I lifted the hem and walked out of the fitting room. Tristan, waiting on the sofa, looked up, a flash of amazement in his eyes. He stood up, strode over to me, and lowered his head to kiss my lips. “Jane, you’re beautiful.” Just then, the phone in Tristan’s pocket vibrated. He paused, took out his phone, glanced at it, and his expression changed slightly. He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, holding his phone, and answered the call. Though he deliberately lowered his voice, I still vaguely heard a few words. “Sarah… your father’s side… okay, I’ll come sign right away…” After hanging up, Tristan turned around. The tenderness had faded from his face, replaced by barely concealed urgency. “Jane, there’s an emergency situation at the European branch. I need to hold a cross-border video conference. I have to get back to the company immediately.” He walked over and apologetically kissed my forehead. “Take your time trying things on. Have them alter whatever doesn’t fit. I’ll have the driver take you home later.” I watched his retreating figure without exposing his lie. Cross-border video conference? What could make Tristan Fuller abandon his fiancée during her wedding dress fitting, other than Sarah? I turned and walked back to the fitting room, taking off that expensive wedding dress. “No need for alterations.” I handed the dress to the attendant. “I don’t want this one.” Under the attendant’s astonished gaze, I changed back into my own clothes and walked out of the bridal shop. Returning to the penthouse, I began clearing out my belongings. This large flat was filled with traces of our three years living together. I grabbed several extra-large black trash bags and started tidying from the living room. Matching couple mugs-thrown away. Souvenirs bought together on our ski trip to the snow mountains-thrown away. All the expensive bags and jewelry he’d brought back from business trips-packed up and collected by a luxury goods resale shop I’d contacted. When I reached the walk-in closet, my movements paused. In the bottom drawer lay a thick photo album. These were photos I’d secretly taken during the five years Tristan was in a wheelchair. There was his back as he furiously smashed things, a close-up of him biting his lip bloody during rehabilitation, and also a photo of us embracing and crying when he first stood independently. I reached out and touched the young but gloomy face of the man in the photos. Back then, Tristan only had eyes for me. But people always change. Once the illness is cured, the crutch is no longer needed. I didn’t cry. I calmly closed the album and, along with those old clothes, mercilessly threw everything into the trash bag. By evening, the once-full penthouse was already half empty. Only some superficial necessities remained, maintaining the illusion that I was still living there. At ten p.m., Tristan came back. He carried a faint smell of disinfectant, clearly just returning from the hospital. Seeing that some decorations were missing from the living room, he frowned slightly. “Why is the house so empty?” “The season changed. I cleared out some old things we don’t use and threw them away.” I sat on the sofa without even lifting my head. Tristan walked over and sat beside me, reaching out to hold me. “I’m sorry about today, leaving you alone at the bridal shop. I’ll go with you tomorrow to try on dresses again, okay?” I avoided his touch and stood up. “No need. I’ve already chosen the wedding dress.” Tristan looked at my attitude and fell silent for a moment. “Jane, are you angry?” “No.” My tone was calm. “I’m a bit tired. I’m going to bed.” Just as I was about to leave, he suddenly told me. “Tomorrow night is Gabriel’s birthday party. Come with me.” As he said this, he looked at me expectantly, seemingly wanting to see me happy. But I just nodded. “Got it.” I just nodded, then turned and left.

Jane’s POV Gabriel’s birthday party was set at the city’s most elite private club. Inside the private room, the lighting was dim and the music deafening. When Tristan pushed open the door holding my hand, the originally noisy room instantly fell silent for a second. Everyone’s eyes turned to me in unison. In those gazes were sympathy, pity, and also schadenfreude at watching the drama unfold. I knew very well that in this circle, the news of Tristan and Sarah’s marriage probably hadn’t been a secret for a long time. Only I, like a fool, was being deceived. “You’re here! Quick, sit, sit!” Gabriel was the first to react, breaking the awkward silence with a dry laugh. Tristan pulled me to sit in the center of the sofa and casually poured me a glass of warm water. “She has a sensitive stomach and can’t drink alcohol.” He said to everyone, playing the part of an attentive good husband. A chorus of hollow agreement immediately rose around us. “You’re so good to her.” “Yeah, the wedding is next month. Congratulations in advance on your marriage.” Listening to these insincere blessings, I only felt my stomach churning. I picked up the water glass, hiding the cold smile at the corners of my mouth. Tristan was pulled aside by a few friends to drink, while I sat alone in the corner, clearly out of place. Gabriel came over with a drink. “Tristan… he’s been pretty busy lately, hasn’t he?” I turned to look at him. “Quite busy. Busy with company matters, and busy taking care of other people.” Gabriel’s face stiffened. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately swallowed it back. “Actually, you’re the one Tristan loves most in his heart. We’ve all witnessed your relationship over these five years. Being in his position, sometimes he’s forced by family interests to do things beyond his control… Some things, don’t take too much to heart.” I laughed. “Gabriel, what exactly shouldn’t I take to heart?” Gabriel gave an awkward laugh and quickly found an excuse to escape. I withdrew my gaze, looking at Tristan in the distance, laughing and chatting with others. He was wearing the shirt I’d personally ironed, the tie clip I’d bought him, but his heart had long since flown to someone else. Just then, the door to the private room was suddenly pushed open from outside. A woman in a white dress stood at the entrance, her face pale, swaying unsteadily. It was Sarah. The air in the private room instantly froze. Everyone instinctively looked at Tristan, then at me. The smile on Tristan’s face abruptly stiffened. He stood up almost instinctively and strode toward the door. “How did you get here? Didn’t I tell you to rest properly at the hospital?” His tone was full of reproach. Sarah looked at him with reddened eyes, aggrieved. “I was scared alone at the hospital, and you wouldn’t answer when I called…” As she spoke, her body went limp, falling straight toward Tristan. Tristan caught her in one swift motion and lifted her horizontally into his arms. He turned his head and looked at me sitting in the corner, his eyes somewhat evasive. “Jane, Sarah isn’t feeling well. I’m taking her back to the hospital first. Have the driver take you home later.” No explanation. No hesitation. The moment Sarah appeared, he abandoned me without mercy. The private room was silent as death. Everyone was watching me. I slowly stood up and smoothed the wrinkles in my skirt. I didn’t look at Tristan or Sarah. I just picked up my bag. “No need. I’ll take a cab home myself.” My voice wasn’t loud, but it reached everyone’s ears clearly. Tristan looked at my face, seeming to want to say something, but Sarah in his arms let out a pained moan. “Tristan, it hurts so much…” Tristan’s attention was instantly pulled back. He tightened his arms and quickly left the private room carrying Sarah. I watched their backs disappear outside the door, the corners of my mouth curling into a mocking arc. I turned around and nodded slightly to everyone in the room with their various expressions. “Enjoy yourselves. I’m leaving first.” Walking out of the private club, the night wind outside carried a hint of coolness. I took out my phone and glanced at the calendar. Fifteen days until the visa came through. Tristan, between us, there were only fifteen days left.

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I was docked down to $3,500 from my usual $20,000 salary because I spent a few minutes in the bathroom during work hours. When I went to my boss to argue for fairness, she acted impartial on the surface but spoke with veiled sarcasm: “Last month’s surveillance shows you spent a total of 40 minutes in the bathroom. You weren’t working in there, were you?” “One minute in the bathroom, $500 fine.” “It’s a new company policy. As a senior employee, you should set an example. I actually went easy on you.” I’ve been a key player at this company for ten years. The deals I’ve closed brought in at least a hundred million in revenue. But now, even my most basic rights are being stripped away. Seeing I had no response, she smiled coldly: “If you don’t like it, leave. Think you’re irreplaceable? Don’t forget, your five-year contract hasn’t expired yet. Who would dare hire you?” I didn’t argue further. But when my contract expired just five days later, she panicked. She kept going on and on: “Sarah, you’ve been at this company for several years. You should know the rules, right?” “Do you know how hard it is to find work these days? I’m only docking your pay because we go way back. If it were anyone else, I’d have kicked them out ages ago!” Hearing this, I couldn’t help but laugh. In my five years at the company, I’d worked diligently, focused entirely on closing deals. Thanks to my exceptional work ability, plenty of companies were willing to pay breach penalties to poach me, but out of loyalty to past relationships, I never considered such things. Even with just five days left on my contract, I’d been thinking about renewal. But now it seemed renewal wasn’t necessary. That glaring pay stub was thrown in my face without a shred of consideration. “Think it over. Stay or go!” I picked up the paper and said calmly, “I understand. I won’t use the bathroom during work hours anymore.” She froze for a moment, seemingly surprised by my submission. But seeing my defeated appearance, she smiled smugly. “That’s right. Don’t waste even a minute.” As I was about to leave, she mocked me: “Who do you think you are, acting tough? After all that fuss, you’re still going back to work like a good little dog. I hate people like you the most!” I opened my mouth but said nothing and left. Outside the office, everyone was celebrating payday. Seeing my low spirits, some colleagues offered me snacks. But Ruthie, a new intern at the company, was different. She silently walked past me and took my pay stub without asking. After looking at it, she feigned surprise. “Sarah only got $3,500? That’s less than one of my pairs of shoes!” “Isn’t Sarah supposed to be our company’s star performer? Look how far she’s fallen.” She passed the pay stub around, constantly repeating, “Sarah, did you make some huge mistake? This is so little.” My colleague Lisa asked with concern, “Sarah, why did they only pay you this much? Did they make a mistake?” I forced a smile at her. “One minute in the bathroom, $500 fine.” She looked confused. “What nonsense is that? The company never had such a rule.” My expression froze instantly. “Alright everyone, I have an announcement.” Manager Ruth slowly walked out of her office. She spoke self-righteously, pretending it was nothing: “Our company has a new policy—one minute in the bathroom, $500 fine.” “This month we tested it on our team leader Sarah, and it worked well. We’ll implement it starting next month.” “Also, certain people shouldn’t think being senior employees gives them the right to boss others around. Everyone should do their own work and follow company rules.” After speaking, she patted my shoulder. “Sarah, bear with it!” I stood there stunned, unable to react for a long time. So that’s what this was about—she was deliberately targeting me. Only docking my pay, then insinuating I was bossing people around. But in her forgetfulness, she overlooked one thing: my five-year contract had only five days left. And the one who’d actually been ordered around all this time was me. In that case, don’t blame me for being ruthless. With that thought, I opened last night’s message from a rival company and replied: “I’ll resign in five days. I’ll report on time.”

They were thrilled, not expecting I’d agree. Out of caution, I asked about compensation and benefits. She immediately replied: “Don’t worry. As long as you perform well, name your salary.” Reading this message, I let out a long breath of relief. All afternoon, I continued working conscientiously, but without bathroom breaks, my work efficiency dropped significantly. It couldn’t be helped—the company had new rules after all! At five o’clock, someone came to ask me to help negotiate a deal. They said this client was difficult, and it had to be me. Before, I would have agreed without hesitation. I used to think the company was a collective—if it did well, I’d do well. So whenever anyone asked for help, as long as it benefited the company, I’d assist, even if it exhausted me. But after being singled out by the new rule, I gradually realized I was just an employee. Who would care if I worked myself to death? Now I wouldn’t be that foolish. I pretended to be worried: “Sorry, I can’t help.” “Why not?” “Didn’t you hear this morning? Bathroom breaks get fined. What if I go out with you and she thinks I’m slacking off at the company?” “My monthly salary is already so little. Any more deductions and it’ll be negative.” “I may not have a family to support, but I need to feed myself first.” Hearing my explanation, she fell silent and left without saying anything more. At 7 PM, I shut down my computer right on time. Without cleaning up others’ messes, my workload dropped dramatically. It was so easy. Turns out not having to worry feels this good! With long strides, I walked out of the company. The breeze on my face felt comfortable. I didn’t need to take a cab anymore, leisurely walking toward the market. I couldn’t help but reflect—in five years of work, this was one of the rare times I could go home at a leisurely pace. I really didn’t know what kind of suffering I’d been enduring before. After getting home, I cooked dinner and took a nice hot bath. After finding a show to watch, I started eating. Food I made myself suited my own taste. In previous years, trying to close deals, I often drank at business dinners. My eating schedule was extremely irregular, and I’d developed stomach problems. But now, I was going to take care of myself. After dinner, I was about to order ingredients for tomorrow when I noticed my phone had exploded with messages. Video calls, work groups, colleague messages, even text messages—all showing 99+. I randomly opened a group where everyone was urging me to call back. “Urgent! Urgent! Urgent!” “Manager Ruth is furious, call back quick!” Just then, Manager Ruth’s call came through. After thinking it over, I decided to answer. The moment I connected, a barrage of cursing came through: “Sarah!!!” “Where did you go?! You dared to leave work without finishing your tasks—$1,000 deducted!” I spoke slowly: “Manager Ruth, let’s be clear. I completed my work. All the lists were sent to everyone—they can all attest to it.” “Besides, out of respect for you as my supervisor, I even stayed a few extra minutes.” “But that little contribution doesn’t need to be paid. No need for extra compensation.” “I’ve always been very reasonable, you know.” After saying this, I instantly felt much better.

The other end of the line was silent for a long time, like waiting for a storm. Taking advantage of the time, I started checking the work group messages. Turns out, without my help, they failed to close that deal. The company lost a huge sum, and the big boss personally called to chew out Manager Ruth. Moreover, since I didn’t handle all that miscellaneous work, their workload increased dramatically. Unable to adapt quickly, their work efficiency plummeted. In the end, the entire office descended into chaos. With no other option, they started calling me. But I’d already turned on Do Not Disturb after work hours, so I didn’t receive a single call. As for Manager Ruth, she hadn’t made a move. After a long while, she finally squeezed out through gritted teeth: “Fine, I understand, Sarah. Remember to clock in on time tomorrow.” I knew she was up to something, but I didn’t care anymore. After all, I was leaving soon. She couldn’t stir up much trouble. The next morning, I arrived at my desk exactly on time, not a minute off. But Manager Ruth still came looking for me. She smiled and said, “Sarah, do you really need to avoid our company like the plague?” “Tell me the truth—do you have a problem with me? I can help resolve it.” I sneered inwardly. As expected, she had no good intentions. I could understand why she was acting this way. She could have fired me directly but only docked my pay, which meant I was important. If she threatened me with the contract, she was reluctant to let me go. I understood this little scheme. It only failed because her memory wasn’t great—she forgot the exact timing of my contract. I stayed as calm as possible: “Manager, what are you saying? Of course I have no problem with you.” “We’ve worked together for so many years. How could I have a problem with you?” Seeing my reaction, she stopped mentioning yesterday’s incident and instead scribbled something and deducted another $200 from my salary. “Sorry, Sarah. I said you needed to arrive on time today, but you were late.” I looked confused and was about to argue when she spoke again. Feigning surprise: “Oh, I forgot—yesterday when the company worked overtime, I announced we’d start half an hour early today. But you didn’t work overtime, so you didn’t hear.” “Next time, check messages carefully before leaving. Don’t miss anything important.” “Understand?” She emphasized those last words heavily—a show of dominance. After speaking, she tossed me a file. “I’m going on a business trip soon. Take over as quickly as possible.” “This is a new contract. The client is one of those difficult ones you’ve successfully negotiated with before. This time, take Ruthie with you and close the deal.” “Next week we’ll be competing against SKY Corporation for a bid. I’ll be there. After we win the bid, don’t always try to show off in front of the boss. Give the younger generation a chance, understand?” Without waiting for my response, she was called away for her business trip. I had to admit, she played her hand well. Everyone knew Ruthie was her niece. This time she just wanted me to pave the way for her niece, then kick me out. I knew she’d always resented that I was more capable and that the boss valued me. So she’d always tried to undermine me subtly, wanting to sideline me, but I wouldn’t fall for it. Today was Tuesday. I had three days left until my resignation. For these three days, I wouldn’t touch this project. After all, in three days I’d be reporting to SKY Corporation. I wouldn’t do anything illegal like leaking confidential information. But I would definitely get my revenge. “Manager Ruth, I’ll be there, but not as your employee.”

Intern Ruthie walked in and took the file. I followed her out, but she thought I was trying to steal credit and immediately said: “Sarah, the manager said I’m taking the lead on this project. You’re just assisting me.” “So don’t overstep.” Hearing her words, the weight in my heart instantly lifted. I’d just been wondering how to distance myself from this project. Now, problem solved, without me having to do anything. After a while, I deliberately stirred things up in the office: “Lisa, I heard this project is really important—even the boss is paying special attention!” “If we do well, interns could get permanent positions, senior employees could get promotions—it’s all possible!” Lisa enthusiastically agreed with me. Ruthie, sitting across from me, said nothing, but her eyes darted around several times. Near the end of the workday, she came directly to me and said, “Sarah, I’m the main person in charge of this project. You know that, right?” I nodded. She continued, “Then you don’t need to participate. I’ll tell the manager.” I laughed inwardly, knowing she’d taken the bait, but outwardly I acted angry: “Ruthie, what do you mean? Are you playing me?” “What if there are losses in the end and they blame me?” Seeing me make a fuss, she said in exasperation, “Then what do you want?” I smiled. “Provide a statement proving that during my employment at the company, I had absolutely no involvement in or access to any aspect of this project’s bidding, quotations, proposals, or other work.” “Only then can I avoid being scapegoated.” After a long standoff, she finally agreed. Before leaving work, I had the statement in hand. With this, I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone causing trouble later. For several days, intern Ruthie worked on the project with team members she’d assembled. And I continued preparing for my resignation. At the same time, I took screenshots in the work group every day, proving I hadn’t been involved in this project. Finally, my contract period ended, and I successfully resigned. When leaving, many colleagues were reluctant to see me go and offered to take me out to dinner. But Ruthie looked smug, thinking I’d been fired. Before leaving, she came to my desk. I didn’t even need to look to know what expression she had. “Sarah, is this a resignation? Or were you fired?” “If you need anything in the future, you can come to me! I might be able to help you out!” I ignored her and walked out of the building. Though it didn’t end prettily, this place truly carried my growth. Next, I was moving on to a new life. With only three days until the bid, I didn’t rest. I seized every moment to prepare. This wasn’t just about getting revenge on anyone—it was about proving my abilities and securing good terms for myself. Soon, the time came. I walked into the building with SKY Corporation. Ruthie and her team followed closely behind. Before the bidding started, I suddenly needed the bathroom urgently and rushed to use it. So I didn’t run into them face-to-face, and Manager Ruth didn’t see me at all. When I returned, it was just starting. Though I wasn’t looking openly, I could sense Ruthie beside me was panicking. There were three companies competing in total. The first finished quickly, and Ruthie’s turn was second. At this moment, Manager Ruth and the boss also arrived late. As soon as she entered, Manager Ruth said, “Sarah, get up on stage right now! What does it look like standing with the rival company?!”

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My wife Bruna, whom I’d loved for ten years, died in a car accident. I completely ignored the barrage of phone calls. Instead, I went to a bar with my childhood friend Gina to drink and party. I didn’t even attend Bruna’s funeral. The day after the burial, I came home with Gina in my arms. As soon as I walked through the door, I saw my furious mother-in-law, Carol. “You bastard! How dare you show your face! Get out! You’re not welcome here!” I remained unmoved and calmly lit a cigarette. “I think you’ve got it wrong. If anyone should leave, it’s you.” “The house—I paid for it in full. I paid for the renovation too. It has nothing to do with Bruna.” I flicked the ash from my cigarette and pulled Gina down to sit beside me. “Bullshit! How does it have nothing to do with her? You’ve been married to Bruna for so many years—this house is marital property! Bruna’s name is on the deed!” “The law says that whoever paid for the house before marriage owns it. What you’re saying is outdated.” I stubbed out my cigarette, about to call building management to throw them out. Actually, Bruna had paid for half the house, but she never told Carol. Given the current situation, I didn’t want to mention it. Carol’s anger didn’t subside. She slapped my phone out of my hand. “So that’s how it is! Bruna’s body is barely cold, and you’ve already brought your mistress home. Now you want to kick us out? No way!” “I won’t give up this house no matter what. Consider it compensation for us!” Carol ranted, trying to push me out the door. During the struggle, Carol fell to the ground. She simply sat there and started making a scene. “Donald, you bastard! Your wife is dead, and now you’re bullying her family!” “Bruna, are you watching from heaven? This is the man you loved for ten years—a complete scumbag!” My father-in-law Anderson spoke up then. His tone was relatively calm. “Donald, Carol and I have nowhere to stay in the city. Can you bear to see two old people homeless on the streets? You have a high salary—you can buy another house later.” “Do I look like an idiot?” I asked back. Before they could respond, I continued, “Besides, over all these years, I’ve given you plenty of money. That’s enough for you to rent a place.” “Who would rent to old people? You’re deliberately making things difficult for us! Cough, cough…” As Anderson spoke, he began coughing uncontrollably, a trace of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth. When Carol saw this, she immediately stood up from the floor. She pointed at my nose and cursed, “You bastard! You won’t be satisfied until you make us cough up blood, will you!” “If you’re going to die, die outside. Don’t dirty my floor.” I took out a handkerchief and methodically wiped my hands, not missing even the spaces between my fingers. “Donald, how can you talk like that?” Bruna’s brother Maurice rushed over and grabbed my collar. I tilted my head, avoiding his punch. “You’re asking for it!” Maurice was furious, ready to throw another punch. But this time I didn’t give him the chance. I used his own force against him, pulling and tugging. Maurice’s clenched fist slammed directly into the heavy iron door, making him howl in pain. “This is my home. Please leave immediately, or I’m calling the police.” I held up the phone Gina handed me and waved it. The number on the screen was clearly visible. A flash of panic crossed all three of their faces at once.

I naturally didn’t miss this moment, and my tone grew colder. “Are you leaving on your own, or should I have the police escort you out?” “No, no, don’t call the police! Donald, do we really need to take it this far?” “Dad, let him call the police! We haven’t broken any laws. What are we afraid of? Some people here act all righteous, who knows what guilty secrets they’re hiding!” “Maurice, how can you talk like that? No matter what, Donald is still your brother-in-law.” Anderson tugged at Maurice’s sleeve with displeasure. “If you’re going to leave, leave soon. It’s getting dark, and I don’t keep guests.” I made a gesture inviting them to leave. “See that? You treat them like family, but they don’t necessarily treat you the same way.” Carol glared at me. “Exactly! He’s the one who wronged Bruna first. She’s barely buried, and he’s already found another woman!” “Donald must have been cheating on Bruna while she was still alive! Bruna can’t rest in peace!” “Even though Bruna is gone, we’re still here to seek justice for her! Donald, if you have any shame at all, get out right now!” Maurice aggressively punched the sandalwood chair, instantly creating a large hole in it. “Maurice, you break things, you pay for them! Since you’re Bruna’s brother, I’ll give you a discount on this $880,000 sandalwood chair—just pay me $300,000!” As I spoke, I calmly poured myself a cup of tea. “You’re clearly extorting me! Donald, I’m telling you, we’re keeping this house!” “You cheated during your marriage—you’re the guilty party. You should leave with nothing!” “Impossible.” I leisurely sipped my tea, completely ignoring Carol’s words. Carol was so angry she opened her mouth several times but couldn’t get a word out. Then Anderson spoke up. Once again, he played the good guy. “Donald, if this gets out, it won’t be good for your reputation either. We can keep quiet about your infidelity, but this house…” “It would be best if it’s transferred to Maurice’s name. Otherwise, we’ll go to your company and make sure you’re pointed at and talked about for the rest of your life, never able to hold your head up again.” “Think it over carefully.” “No need to think. If you want to make a scene, go ahead and do it everywhere. I don’t care.” With my completely stubborn attitude, Maurice suddenly slapped a piece of paper on the table with a loud “smack.” “Donald, see for yourself! It clearly says ‘I voluntarily gift my residential property to Maurice’! This is Bruna’s will, and it has legal force!” I didn’t go over. I signaled Gina with my eyes. Gina brought it over, and I glanced at it. “This handwriting is indeed Bruna’s, but who knows if it’s real?” “You scoundrel! You know perfectly well that the dead can’t speak!” “Yes, the dead can’t speak.” My gaze sharpened as I repeated Maurice’s words.

“Donald, what are you babbling about?! You say it’s fake, so it’s fake? Then I say Bruna paid for this house in full!” Maurice felt uncomfortable under my stare and flew into a rage. I ignored him and poured myself another cup of tea. “After all this talk, you won’t give up the house, right? Fine, but you won’t get a penny of Bruna’s massive accidental death insurance payout! You cheated during your marriage—I’ll sue you!” “Go ahead and sue me if you dare. I’ll be right here waiting.” I set the teacup down heavily on the coffee table. Anderson trembled, his body unstable. He shakily supported himself on the table and suddenly coughed up blood. “Dad!” Maurice rushed forward to support him in a panic. “If anything happens to my dad, I’ll fight you to the death!” “Then go ahead and fight me.” I toyed with the lighter, flicking it open with a “click,” then closing it with another “click.” Through the flame, I secretly observed the three of them. They seemed frightened by my appearance and all fell silent. Carol was the first to speak, though this time her attitude was more moderate than before. “Donald, we won’t take the house, but you must give us every penny of that compensation.” “Once you give it to us, we’ll leave immediately and never bother you again.” After listening, the corner of my mouth curved up. As expected, demanding the house earlier was just their test. The massive compensation was their real goal. I gave Gina a look. She threw some shade at Carol, “I’ve seen shameless people, but I’ve never seen anyone this shameless.” “You have no right to speak here! Get lost!” “This is Donald’s house. If anyone should leave, it’s you.” “It must be you, you homewrecker, who seduced Donald! Otherwise, why would someone usually so honest suddenly change like this today? I’ll slap that face of yours raw!” “Stop.” I grabbed Carol’s hand and flung it away. “Are you okay?” I held Gina’s hand, asking her gently. Gina shook her head. “I’m fine. This will be over soon.” I held her tightly. Seeing this, Carol burst into tears. “The world has gone to hell! Poor Bruna—she cared for you so tenderly when she was alive and never did anything wrong to you. But barely two days after her death, you’re embracing your mistress and flirting everywhere! Bruna, even if you came back to life and saw this scene, you’d be so angry you’d die again!” After hearing these words, I didn’t let go. Instead, I held Gina even tighter. Carol wasn’t wrong. Bruna and I had known each other since school. Every exam, we tied for first place in the entire school. After college graduation, I confessed my feelings to her. She shyly told me that I had always been her secret crush. I thought, perhaps this was fate. We got together. In the ten years since our marriage, our relationship had grown stronger day by day, never a single quarrel. You could say she had been part of my entire life. But I couldn’t agree with Carol’s last sentence. How could I bear to make Bruna angry? Bruna and I would only be happier in the future. Seeing me still holding Gina, Carol’s emotions became complicated. Her eyes darted around, as if thinking of something. Suddenly, her voice became extremely shrill. “I know now—you two conspired together to kill Bruna! Donald, give me back Bruna’s life!”

Carol’s fat body crashed toward me. Because I was protecting Gina, my back took the full force of the impact. Maurice seized this opportunity and stabbed me in the back with a fruit knife. Blood instantly soaked through my white shirt. Not wanting to worry Gina, I gritted my teeth and endured the intense pain. But Carol’s screeching voice buzzed in my ears like a fly. “Bruna, I should have stopped you from marrying him back then! Otherwise, you wouldn’t have died so horribly, not even leaving a complete body behind.” “And Donald is such a terrible person. After your accident, he didn’t even show his face. Now he’s cuddling with another woman! Where in the world is there such a heartless man?” “Poor Bruna, you’re dead—how am I supposed to live?” As Carol spoke, her voice suddenly rose. I was about to see what was happening. I didn’t notice Anderson’s movement in time. By the time I reacted, it was too late. Anderson patted my back, his voice ghostly. “Donald, Bruna was my only daughter. I was counting on her to take care of us in our old age, but who could have expected a car accident? We’re not asking you to support us in our retirement. Just hand over the compensation, and we’ll leave immediately.” I gasped in pain. Anderson did it on purpose, patting exactly where it hurt most. But the more he acted this way, the more it proved he had a guilty conscience. “What if I refuse to hand it over? Are you going to kill me? Let me tell you, even if I die here today, you’ll never get that money in your lifetime!” “Fine! Maurice, come here!” Anderson’s face twisted viciously. “Coming!” “You killed Bruna! I’m going to avenge her—I’ll beat you to death!” Maurice pulled out a whip and lashed it viciously at me. “Don’t be afraid.” I comforted Gina in my arms, holding her even tighter. Crack! Crack! Crack! The whip cut through the air with a cold, fierce wind, striking my back again and again. I could feel my shirt tearing, mixing with blood and sticking to my skin. Pain—burning, searing pain that drilled into my bones. Even so, I clenched my teeth, not letting myself make a single weak sound. “Donald, I didn’t expect you to be so protective of this homewrecker!” Maurice stabbed at me with his words, and the whip came down even harder and more forcefully than before. “Maurice, whip him! Beat him to death! Bruna was definitely killed by him. There are so many cases like this online, aren’t there? Husbands deliberately kill their wives to get massive compensation!” “I know—it’s called spousal murder for insurance fraud! With Bruna dead, the beneficiary is her spouse!” “Donald, are you even human? You bastard, give me back Bruna’s life!” “Bruna was kind to everyone her whole life, never did anything evil. Heaven is blind—how could she meet such a bastard?!” Anderson and Carol’s curses and slander continuously poured into my ears. Maurice’s whipping never stopped either. I deeply felt wound after wound appearing on my back. I silently endured all of this. I don’t know how much time passed before Anderson’s sinister voice rang out. “Alright, stop. We still need to leave him breathing.” “Donald, after all this, you still won’t hand over the compensation?” I nodded. Just as Maurice’s whip was about to fall again, I struggled to get out a sentence: “Bruna, you should finally see these three people’s true faces now, right?” As soon as my words fell, Gina rose from my embrace. She reached out and slowly peeled off the human skin mask. Carol, Anderson, and Maurice all widened their eyes. The three of them were so frightened they couldn’t even speak properly. “Are you… are you human or ghost?”

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On the night of our graduation trip, group leader Kelly suggested drawing room numbers for pairing. “It’s fate! No matter if you’re a guy or girl, if you draw the same number, you share a room. How exciting!” I’d been dating Catherine for three years of our four years in college. No one knew. I drew a ball from the box and waited to be paired. When Catherine’s turn came, she called out “Number 7.” Kelly’s voice instantly rose: “The other person who drew Room 7 is… Victor!” Victor was Catherine’s ex-boyfriend. The whole room erupted, except for me. Before the game started, I’d overheard Kelly whisper to Catherine: “Find the one with the circular bump—I specially saved it for you and Victor.” Since you two want to rekindle your romance, I’ll make it happen for you. The room assignments weren’t even finished, but the atmosphere had already peaked. Kelly distributed red wristbands to them, emphasizing loudly: “Let me remind everyone of the rules! Same number pairs up—for these three days and two nights, you’re bound together the whole trip. Go by wristband color, no solo activities allowed!” Wolf whistles rang out from the crowd. Some girls deliberately winked at Catherine. Victor smiled as he put on his wristband and took her small bag. Catherine’s face flushed deeper red as her petite frame shrank behind him. Victor smoothly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Cut it out, Catherine’s shy.” “Already being protective! Everyone better watch out—if you upset Catherine, Victor will come after you!” The teasing erupted into a chorus. I stood outside the crowd, left hand gripping the ball, right hand pulling a heavy suitcase. Before the trip, Catherine had stuffed her things into my suitcase: “You’ll be carrying my bag anyway. If you bring another suitcase, you won’t be able to drag it.” She’d also pointed at the new jacket I bought: “That one—I heard it gets cold there at night. Perfect for me to wear.” In our three years together, she never showed any intimacy with me in front of classmates, let alone wore my jacket. So I was overjoyed, thinking she’d use the trip to make our relationship public. But on day one of the trip, she wore Victor’s jacket. The bag she’d said I’d carry now hung from his shoulder. I bent down to set my things down and cleared my throat, suppressing the hoarseness. Then I raised my hand: “Um…” Everyone looked over. Kelly still radiated excitement: “What’s up, Owen? Victor’s your roommate—do you want to say something?” Victor froze, his lips twitching unnaturally. Catherine suddenly looked up, shooting me a nervous, warning glance. But her nervousness was misplaced. I simply held up my ball and asked: “Who’s Number 3?” Kelly scanned the room and saw someone raise their hand on the other side: “Me.” It was Maya, a girl with little presence in class. Kelly laughed: “Oh, Maya! I know you’re single. What about you, Owen?” “If you’re single, you can room together. If you have a girlfriend, I’ll switch you with a guy…” I gently interrupted: “I’m single.” From the corner of my eye, I saw Catherine’s eyebrows relax then furrow again. She turned her head as if to look at Maya, but Kelly had already pulled out orange wristbands: “Perfect! You’re both single—maybe you’ll become another couple!” I accepted the wristband and nodded politely: “Thanks.” As I picked up my suitcase again, I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I didn’t know what expression she wore at that moment. But probably… relief. With room numbers assigned, we lined up to check in. Victor went to call his family. Catherine dawdled, only handing over their IDs when I was the last one left. “Go find Kelly. Tell him you don’t want to room with a girl. Switch to a guy or get a single room. You’ll cover the extra cost.” She kept her voice low, eyes straight ahead, not even a sideways glance at me. I texted my parents to let them know I’d arrived safely, not looking up: “Why?” “What do you mean why? You’re not single. How can you room with the opposite sex?” “What about you? Are you single?” Catherine’s fingers paused, her tone carrying a hint of petulance: “This was the game rule from the start. I’m just respecting the results of the draw.” My voice was soft: “I’m also respecting the results of the draw.” Her almond eyes widened. Before she could speak, I took my room card and turned away. I’d only taken a few steps when Kelly announced loudly: “Everyone come to the screening room in half an hour. I’ve booked it out.” “Let’s get nostalgic and watch the documentary from our freshman year sports festival!” My steps didn’t falter. I just adjusted my grip on the suitcase handle. The freshman year sports festival documentary was a record of Catherine’s passionate pursuit of Victor.

In the screening room, the table was loaded with snacks and fruit. As soon as Catherine sat down, she pushed the grapes in front of Victor. A male classmate next to them teased: “Catherine’s so biased! She knows Victor loves grapes, so she saves the whole plate for him.” Others joined in the teasing. Victor pushed the plate away somewhat helplessly. But his tone revealed satisfaction: “Everyone share them. Catherine bought me plenty.” “If there’s not enough, I can go back to the room and get more.” But Catherine pulled the plate back, a smile playing on her lips: “I’ll go get more. You eat these first.” As she got up to leave, the teasing in the screening room exploded: “Victor says one thing and Catherine immediately does it! She treats you so well!” Victor ate grapes while laughing, then suddenly called my name: “Owen, when Catherine brings more, you should eat some too.” “I remember you also love grapes.” The door opened. Catherine walked in carrying two plates of grapes, placing them all in front of Victor. She knew too. Over these three years I’d bought grapes countless times, and heard her complain to me countless times: “Don’t eat so many. These grapes are so sweet—you’ll break out again.” I casually picked up an orange as Kelly called out: “Owen, where’s Maya?” Everyone looked over. I peeled the orange without looking up: “She had something urgent to handle.” Kelly sounded disappointed: “Then you two are a no-go. But that’s fine—the other pair will definitely work out!” Catherine’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, then moved away: “The documentary’s starting.” Her voice carried a breathy quality as she skillfully handed Victor a grape. The documentary was a full two hours. Everyone was thoroughly engaged, laughing and teasing whenever Catherine and Victor appeared on screen. “Catherine’s wiping Victor’s sweat again! He runs fifty meters and you follow closer than the cameraman.” “Look at that—water bottles, mini fans, sunscreen, everything prepared!” “Victor, Catherine’s pursuit of you was known across campus. How could you hold out and not accept? You made her stay single for four years, and even at graduation she still can’t forget you!” Victor looked at Catherine, his eyes tender: “I thought campus romance was unstable. I wanted to wait until after graduation to consider it.” “I never imagined she’d wait this long for me.” A girl egged them on: “Catherine, these four years of waiting must have been hard, right?” Catherine gazed at him, chin dipping slightly: “It was okay.” Two short words containing four years of patience and longing. Sighs of sympathy rose around the room. Only I laughed inwardly. Hard? What was hard about it? She pursued Victor passionately for half a year with no results, then got into tennis. I was the main player on the school tennis team. She asked me to coach her for six months, and right at the start of sophomore year, she confessed to me. Of course she was okay. Though our relationship wasn’t public, we were happy together. Very happy. Or perhaps only I thought we were happy. I lowered my head to eat some orange. The guy next to me suddenly pointed at the screen and shouted: “Owen, why is the class secretary holding a parasol for you? Did she have a crush on you?” The topic shifted to me. “No, she was just passing by.” I shook my head. The guy continued: “Too bad the class secretary didn’t come today. But she clearly liked you. You should consider it—I think you two would be good together.” Catherine was pouring water for Victor, movements smooth, as if she hadn’t heard our conversation. I smiled faintly: “No thanks.” “Actually, I have a girlfriend.” That figure suddenly froze, fingers clenching into her palm. I understood her—she was afraid I’d say something reckless. But the guy grabbed my arm, asking loudly: “Who? Is she a girl from our class?” Dozens of eyes turned toward me. I maintained my smile and nodded: “Yes.”

The room instantly erupted with questions about who it was. Catherine’s expression gradually darkened as she stared at her phone. I felt my phone vibrate twice but didn’t check, only saying: “She had something come up. She didn’t make it.” Seven or eight girls didn’t come today. Kelly looked disappointed, about to ask more, when Victor suddenly exclaimed “Ah.” His cup had tipped over, water soaking his pants. Catherine quickly grabbed tissues to help him wipe it off. He bent over, stopping her, apologetic: “Sorry about that. Didn’t hold it steady.” “It’s fine. I’ll go back with you to change. Don’t want you catching cold.” She left with Victor. With them gone, the documentary lost its appeal, and everyone dispersed. When I returned to my room, the suitcase was open. Catherine’s change of clothes and makeup bag were gone. I stared at my phone all night. The unread messages on screen were still those two she’d sent: “Don’t say anything. Don’t ruin the mood.” Right. I, as the boyfriend, couldn’t ruin the ambiguous atmosphere between her and another guy. Just like during the charity sale sophomore year—though I had the highest earnings, I had to give the certificate to Victor. Couldn’t steal his spotlight. Or like the tennis tournament junior year—because of Victor’s one comment “I want to try competing,” I had to withdraw. Couldn’t damage his enthusiasm. These three years, Catherine treated me well. She brought me water during matches, knitted me a scarf when it got cold. Apart from refusing to make our relationship public, she did everything a girlfriend should do. Except when it came to Victor—I always came second. Dawn broke. My phone still hadn’t rung. I gazed at the sun gradually rising outside the window, my heart growing calmer. Today’s itinerary was sightseeing. Catherine and Victor wore red wristbands, walking together the entire time. The camera I’d bought her ended up in Victor’s hands. He photographed her at every Instagram-worthy spot, then took selfies with her at the landmarks. While resting by the bridge, people asked about my future plans. “Owen, are you staying in LA or going back to New York?” I replied flatly: “Going back to New York.” Catherine wiped Victor’s sweat, casting a seemingly casual glance my way. Kelly nudged her: “Victor’s from LA. You’ll definitely stay in LA, right?” Catherine answered without hesitation: “Naturally.” Victor looked down with a smile, subtly moving closer until they were pressed tightly together. But a classmate seemed puzzled: “Owen, didn’t you already find work in LA? Why are you going back?” I smiled: “I turned down the job. Want to be closer to my parents.” “Really? Is it for your parents, or for your girlfriend?” Everyone gathered around gossiping. My smile deepened: “Both. My parents are getting older—I want to stay nearby to take care of them. She… also decided to settle in New York.” People teased and pressed me about who she was, but I just shook my head, refusing to say. At the next attraction, Catherine blocked me at the restroom entrance. “You really turned down the job?” She was anxious. After all, we’d found the work together. The company valued my grades, and my condition for joining was that they also hire my girlfriend. Now that I’d withdrawn, she couldn’t stay either. I nodded, my tone calm: “My parents arranged work for us in New York. Once we’re settled, we’ll get engaged.” “Owen!” Catherine suddenly flared up, but afraid others would hear, she suppressed it until her face turned ashen: “Who gave you permission to arrange my future without asking!”

She left in anger. The group straggled along. She pulled Victor to walk at the very front. I stayed at the back, chatting with classmates. It wasn’t until dinner at the buffet that Victor spoke clearly at the table: “The Perseid meteor shower? You guys don’t know about it? Catherine said there’s an observation point near here. Up to a hundred meteors per hour at peak.” Everyone at the table got interested, making plans to go watch. But Kelly clicked his tongue: “Could you guys show some awareness? You can see meteors from the hotel too. Don’t go be third wheels.” Everyone immediately understood: “True. The observation point has a clearer view, so it should definitely be saved for those who need it most.” Catherine served Victor food. Though she didn’t speak, the bashfulness on her cheeks said everything. The buffet here didn’t suit me—the flavors were too strong. I chewed a couple bites of seafood, but the seasoning stuck in my throat. I couldn’t swallow it. I lowered my head to spit it out and got up to find something milder. Kelly followed, saying quietly: “Owen, I saw you posted on Twitter a few days ago about going to the observation point for the meteor shower. Maybe don’t go—don’t disturb Catherine and Victor.” I nodded: “I know.” “Top of the class is smart. Let me tell you something you don’t know—them drawing the same number? I arranged it.” I nodded again: “I heard you when you told Catherine.” Kelly looked somewhat surprised. A classmate called him from behind, so he turned back. I opened a soup lid. Catherine happened to come over to get soup for Victor. Her tone was natural: “I was wrong today. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” “I understand—you’re upset because I’m rooming with Victor.” “But don’t worry. Last night I slept on the bed, he slept on the floor. We just chatted.” “Us rooming together is just following game rules. Nothing will actually happen.” I ladled soup, humming in acknowledgment. She didn’t look up: “Talk to your parents. It’s fine for us to develop our careers in LA. No need to go to New York.” “Once our jobs are stable, we’ll settle here.” This time I didn’t respond. After getting my soup, I turned around. She suddenly hesitated and called out: “Owen… Victor’s really looking forward to tonight’s meteor shower. I promised to watch it with him.” “Anyway, the Perseids happen every year. Next year, we’ll come again.” I faced away from her, palm pressed against the bottom of the bowl, yet I felt no warmth at all. Opening my mouth, my voice was soft: “Okay.” She sighed with relief. As she passed by me, she didn’t forget to bring Victor a plate of grapes. After dinner, I went back to my room to pack. I took out the outfit I’d coordinated for proposing to her under the meteor shower. The engagement ring and meteor shower brochure went into the trash together. Zipping up the suitcase, it was much lighter now. The flight ticket was bought last minute. Boarding was tonight. Ten minutes before takeoff, the Perseid meteor shower streaked across the sky. Everyone exclaimed, recording videos and taking photos. I pulled out my phone and saw an unread message. “Everything’s arranged. Your aunt and uncle went back to rest. I’m waiting for you at the airport.” The plane slowly climbed. The meteor trails carried fine silver light, illuminating half the cabin. I leaned back against my seat and slowly closed my eyes. Catherine, the two of us—there is no next year.

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My husband, Ethan Foster, was photographed at a maternity center. Every media outlet was speculating about who the mother of the Foster Group CEO’s illegitimate child could be. I just stared at my phone with a blank expression and turned it off. Ethan spoke in a flat tone: “Right now is a critical time for Stella’s career. She can’t afford any scandals.” “So?” I looked up at him, my gaze steady. “So tomorrow, you need to show up at the maternity center and claim that child as yours. After a while, Stella will take the baby back.” Listening to Ethan’s commanding tone, I smiled bitterly. So even now, all he cared about was Stella Quinn’s career. Seeing my silence, Ethan did what he always did—he handed me a check. “Fill in whatever amount you want. But you must claim this child as yours.” I froze for two seconds. Instead of taking the check, I went to the bedroom and pulled out a document I’d prepared long ago and handed it to him. Before I could say a word, Ethan flipped to the last page without hesitation and signed it. He had no idea that what I’d given him was a divorce agreement.

After signing, Ethan stood up, his expression somewhat uncomfortable. “I’m worried about Stella. I won’t be staying home tonight.” I smiled bitterly to myself. Of course. In his heart, Stella Quinn always came first. Even the rare times he came home were only to deal with Stella’s problems. Noticing my dazed expression, Ethan continued his instructions: “I’ll send a driver to pick you up tomorrow morning. Remember not to let any reporters notice.” He finished speaking and, like countless other nights over the years, left me with nothing but his retreating figure. Clutching the signed agreement, I suddenly felt a pang of reluctance. Just as Ethan was about to leave, I called out to him. “Don’t you… want to see what’s actually in the agreement?” Ethan turned around, his expression slightly mocking: “Isn’t it just about money?” The moment those words left his mouth, tears I’d been holding back spilled from my eyes. So this was who I was in his eyes. Ethan sighed and reached out to pat my head. “Emma, I’ve told you before—we’re husband and wife. What’s mine is yours.” “If you’re not satisfied with the check amount, I don’t mind if you want other things.” “But tomorrow, you must appear in front of those reporters. Understand?” I watched the concern for another woman in his eyes and nodded bitterly. Ethan looked satisfied. I wanted to say something more, but he spoke first. “Send another copy of that agreement to my assistant. He’ll transfer the money to your account.” “As for tonight, just get a good night’s sleep and wait for the driver tomorrow.” Before leaving, he instructed the housekeeper to pack some things I’d need at the maternity center. After all, if you’re going to put on a show, you have to do it properly. I’d have to stay there for several days to convince reporters to stop suspecting Stella. When the roar of his car engine started outside, I was still standing dazed in the living room. Ethan and I hadn’t spoken this closely in a very long time. I should have hugged him just now. But then I remembered the last time—because Ethan’s clothes had picked up my perfume scent, Stella had thrown a fit. To appease her, Ethan secretly took Stella abroad for vacation and had his assistant send her countless jewelry pieces. To keep reporters from suspecting Stella, I didn’t leave the house for an entire month until the two of them returned from their trip. I turned around, my gaze falling on the divorce agreement on the table. I felt nothing but relief. This marriage should have ended long ago. After I discovered Ethan’s first affair with his new secretary, Linda Rogers, I went crazy. I not only sent photos of the two of them to reporters—making “Foster Group CEO’s Affair” trend on social media for an entire week and causing the stock price to plummet—I even notified Linda’s parents in their remote village. At the time, Linda had just graduated from college. Unable to handle her parents’ abuse and the public’s accusations, she attempted suicide by cutting her wrists. Although she was saved in the end, Ethan still exploded at me in fury. “Emma, she’s so young—how could you hurt her in such a vicious way? I was the one who forced her into this relationship. If you’re angry, take it out on me.” I looked at the protective look in his eyes for that girl and thought about the provocative photos Linda had sent me. My anger only intensified. “Fine. Since you forced her, I’ll just call the police. I’ll tell everyone that the great CEO of Foster Group used his power to rape his own—” Before I could finish, Ethan slapped me across the face. That was the first time he’d ever laid a hand on me. But I could already see the tragedy this marriage would become. From then on, I stopped questioning his affairs. But Ethan still worried I’d treat his other women the way I’d treated Linda, so after each affair, he’d proactively have his assistant send me bags, jewelry, or checks. Looking at the room full of jewelry and handbags, and the enormous balance in my account, I found this marriage so pathetically laughable. Now, it was time to end it. I sent the final page of the agreement’s terms to Ethan’s assistant. “The husband agrees to transfer 30% of current assets to the wife.” Although the assistant was surprised that Ethan would be so generous this time, thinking about the comments regarding the illegitimate child trending online, he understood. Stella Quinn was the woman who’d been with Ethan the longest, so he would definitely do everything possible to protect her reputation—even if it meant using me. “Mrs. Foster, rest assured. I’ll transfer the funds to your account as soon as possible.”

When I went upstairs, I saw the housekeeper Sophia packing loose dresses into a suitcase. “Sophia, let me do it.” I took out the clothes she’d packed, one by one. Since I’d decided to leave, I wouldn’t take anything from this place. Seeing what I was doing, Sophia couldn’t help but sigh. “Ma’am, why do this to yourself? As long as you don’t agree, the master can’t exactly drag you there by force.” “That woman is shameless to begin with. Having an illegitimate child and still wanting a good reputation.” “If you keep indulging her like this, I’m afraid in the future she’ll…” She didn’t finish, but I could guess what she meant. Nothing more than showing up with the child to force her way into the family and demand official recognition. The position of Mrs. Foster? She could have it. Seeing my silence, Sophia sighed even more heavily. “Ma’am, you’re just too softhearted.” “The tactics those legitimate wives in this circle use—every single one of them is fiercer than yours.” “No matter how capable those mistresses are, none have dared to openly give birth to an illegitimate child like this one.” I knew she genuinely cared about me, but none of this mattered anymore. From the beginning, what I valued was Ethan’s sincerity. Now that he’d given it to someone else, what was the point of trying to get it back? Before Sophia could speak again, I pressed several pieces of jewelry I’d deliberately saved into her hands. She tried to refuse several times, but I firmly insisted she take them. Over the years, she’d practiced cooking in her spare time to help restore my health and made medicinal meals for me. I truly wanted to thank her. After urging Sophia to rest, I put several important documents in my bag. Once dawn broke, I could leave. However, the next second, my phone suddenly received several messages. “Emma, even if you help me this time, I won’t be grateful.” “Ethan said this child is only staying with you for a few days. In the end, he’ll come back to me.” “Let me tell you—don’t even think about stealing my son.” Stella wasn’t like Linda from before—she didn’t understand the meaning of knowing when to stop. I sneered as I typed a reply. “An illegitimate child? I’d feel dirty even holding him.” Right after I sent it, several more messages came through. “So what if he’s illegitimate? He’ll be Ethan’s only son in the future.” “Emma, even if you’re Mrs. Foster, all you can do this lifetime is watch my son inherit the Foster Group.” Stella seemed triggered by the words “illegitimate child” and stopped hiding her ambitions. When I saw the last few lines of text, my entire body froze in place. “Emma, you don’t know this, do you?” “The car that hit you back then wasn’t from Foster Group’s competitors at all—it was from rivals who were following me.” “Ethan knew those people would crash the car, but he still made you switch vehicles with me.” “He never wanted your child. He didn’t even want you.”

“Didn’t even want you…” I stared at the densely packed words on the screen, feeling a chill spread through my entire body. Even my hands began trembling uncontrollably. Thunder rumbled outside the window, as if dragging me back into that desperate, rainy night. The smell of blood and gasoline mixed with rainwater flooding into the car. The driver was barely alive, his consciousness fading. And I was trapped in the back seat, enduring the excruciating pain radiating from my abdomen. “My baby… someone please save my baby…” I pulled out my phone to call Ethan, but felt the crashed car begin to slide slowly. Before I could react, the next second the entire car plummeted rapidly. “Ethan, save me!” My scream was drowned out the instant the car hit the water. When I woke again, Ethan was sitting beside me, his eyes bloodshot. “Emma, I’m sorry. I failed to protect you.” My throat was too damaged from swallowing water to make a sound, but he understood my eyes. Ethan’s eyes were filled with heartache as he shook his head. I felt the stillness of my abdomen and closed my eyes in despair. A tear slipped into my hair, followed by broken sobs. Ethan was so panicked by my tears that he didn’t know what to do. He gripped my hand and apologized continuously. “Emma, we’ll have another child.” “I swear, from now on, you’ll be my only woman.” But I never got pregnant again, and he still never cut ties with Stella. After that accident, Ethan’s ruthless retaliation against his competitors made it easy for me to believe it had been their revenge. But now I understood—I was just Stella’s substitute sacrifice. Ethan and I had known each other since we were young, and later left our hometown together to build our careers. Back then, we had no education, no connections—just raw courage. But success never correlates with personal bravery alone. When our business ventures failed one after another and rainwater flooded into our basement apartment, Ethan’s face showed a despair I’d never seen before. “Emma, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you out here.” “You’ve suffered so much with me, and I still couldn’t give you a good life.” While moving computers, phones, and other important items to the highest shelf and trying to bail water out of the room, I teased him: “When Heaven is about to place great responsibility on someone, it first tests their resolve with hardship.” “We haven’t suffered that much yet. Have you already lost your fighting spirit?” “And here I believed you when you said you’d get me a luxury apartment.” Hearing my words and realizing I wasn’t blaming him, Ethan laughed and picked me up, spinning me around in the dirty water that reached our ankles. “I knew it—Emma loves me most.” “I swear I’ll never let you down.” But later, when we had everything, we’d lost that most genuine feeling. Ethan never coming home. Ethan constantly surrounded by scandals. Ethan looking at me with cold eyes. Every change reminded me that my husband was no longer the person who’d promised me his unchanging devotion. Three years ago, Ethan met Stella at a business dinner. She’d just entered the entertainment industry, played a few minor roles, and her career was going nowhere. But after their night together at a hotel, Stella’s resources suddenly improved dramatically, with scripts piling up for her to choose from. Online rumors started that she had a powerful backer, but no one ever photographed the man. Some in the industry suspected Stella was creating the rumors herself, that she’d landed those roles purely by luck. So they bribed people to eliminate this competitor. But they didn’t expect that I would be the one in that car that day—and I was already over seven months pregnant.

After a sleepless night, at dawn I prepared to leave this home I’d lived in for seven years. After taking a taxi to the airport, Ethan called, his voice filled with undisguised anxiety. “Emma, where did you go? Didn’t we agree last night that the driver would pick you up?” “We already agreed—” “Ethan.” My voice was hoarse. “Three years ago, when you had the driver switch cars, what were you thinking?” A woman who’d endured hardship with him for ten years. A woman carrying his child in her belly. How cold-hearted did he have to be to make me get into that car destined to be crashed off the overpass? “Emma, what are you talking about?” Ethan’s tone was confused. When he heard the airport announcement in the background, his voice unconsciously turned cold. “Emma, where are you? Are you backing out of claiming Stella’s child?” Listening to the boarding call, I smiled bitterly. “Where I am doesn’t matter. I never agreed to your demand last night.” “But three years ago, shouldn’t I have stayed in that freezing river, in that car filled with the smell of blood and water?” “Instead of being rescued by the search team and ending up in a hospital bed, right, Mr. Foster?” I heard the sound of a door slamming on his end, followed by Ethan’s rapid breathing. “Emma, did Stella say something to you?” “Just wait there. I’ll come explain everything.” I heard Ethan going downstairs and sighed softly. “Goodbye, Ethan.” “Emma, wait for me—” Before he could finish, I hung up and blocked his number. What happened had happened. No matter what explanation or compensation he offered, it no longer mattered. His ruthlessness back then was real. My grief at losing our child was real. So I would never forgive him. … The moment Ethan stepped outside, he was surrounded by reporters who’d been waiting. “Mr. Foster, why were you at the maternity center?” “Are the online rumors about an illegitimate child true?” “Does Mrs. Foster agree to let this child return to the Foster family?” The questions came one after another, but Ethan had no patience to deal with them. He pushed through the people blocking his way without hesitation, letting them photograph his rough behavior. After getting in his car, Ethan ordered the driver to head straight to the airport. But after searching several times, he couldn’t find Emma. Left with no choice, he returned home to ask Sophia—the only person who might know where Emma went. But before he could speak, he noticed the document on the table. He picked it up with confusion. On the cover were five clear words: “Divorce Agreement.”

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My sister Nina came home from a blind date and slammed the door, absolutely furious. “What trash! His salary isn’t even half of mine, and he had the nerve to tell me to stay local, get married this year, and have a baby next year. Going on a blind date with that kind of loser was absolutely disgusting!” Mom and Dad rushed over to comfort her. “We won’t set up any more meetings. That matchmaker has no standards, only introducing you to complete losers.” I stared at the gift box by the door and added quietly, “He was actually pretty nice. He just gave you a ride home and even brought gifts for the whole family.” Nina’s eyes flickered, and she suddenly laughed. “What? You interested in him?” She looked me up and down, her tone dripping with contempt. “Makes sense. You’re inferior to me in every way. A man like that is more than good enough for you.” She waved her hand impatiently. “You want him? Take him. I have zero interest in the kind of dead-end life you get stuck in after marrying someone in a small Southern town anyway.” I quietly added the contact information she pushed my way. I didn’t dare mention that when the man drove her home earlier, he was driving our company president’s car. And as far as I knew, his family owned over thirty properties in this small town alone.

Nina’s anger hadn’t subsided when her phone rang. After replying to the message, her expression grew even darker. “So annoying! He asked me to see a movie tomorrow. I said no, but he still won’t give up!” Mom quickly tried to persuade her. “Nina, don’t reject him outright.” “In a small place like ours, everyone knows everyone. If you shut him down today, tomorrow people will start gossiping, saying you think you’re too good for locals just because you work in New York.” Dad nodded along. “Exactly. Relationships are complicated around here. Who knows what relatives or friends his family knows? If you offend someone, it’ll be inconvenient whenever you come back to handle things.” Nina glanced at me, her tone patronizing. “Sarah, you go tomorrow instead.” “Just help me deal with him. Don’t mess it up.” I didn’t argue. I just nodded silently. No one asked if I was willing. In this family, I’d never had the right to say “no.” To avoid messing up, I stayed up all night researching the movie Rowan had suggested. The plot, the hidden meanings, the director’s filming techniques—I filled an entire page with notes. The next day when we met, Rowan was clearly surprised to see me. I explained, “Nina had something come up at the last minute. She asked me to apologize on her behalf.” Then I casually mentioned a couple things about the movie. His eyes lit up. “Since you understand film too, Miss Snow, the tickets are already bought. Let’s not waste them.” After the movie, he discussed it with me enthusiastically for quite a while. Dinner was his treat. It was relaxed throughout. None of the sleazy preaching Nina had described. Instead, he was very considerate, proactively serving me food and asking if everything was to my taste. After dinner, he suddenly led me into a nearby jewelry store and picked out two necklaces. Seeing the nearly thirty-thousand-dollar price tag, I froze and quickly tried to decline. He smiled and shook his head, paying for them. “Last time I brought gifts in such a rush, I didn’t have time to prepare something individual for you and your sister. You keep this one, and please give her the other as an apology from me.” I accepted the pendant, understanding in my heart that he still cared about Nina. After all, Nina was beautiful and an HR manager at a publicly traded company—a top student. As for me, I was decent-looking at best. Thoroughly ordinary. But I had no intention of giving the pendant to Nina just yet. When I got home, Nina glanced at my hands and snorted. “Oh, he didn’t buy you anything? I told you he was poor and cheap. Takes you out and doesn’t even know how to be generous.” I ignored her and went back to my room to put away the pendant hidden in my bag. I’d just sat down when SnapChat popped up a notification—Rowan had accepted my friend request from last night. I touched up my makeup, put on the pendant, took a photo, and posted it to my feed. Less than two minutes later, Rowan liked it. Outside my room, Nina’s complaints continued. “Thank god I sent Sarah instead. Otherwise he would’ve annoyed me to death. That broke loser actually thought he could chase me. He should take a good look at whether he’s even worthy.” Mom and Dad chimed in their agreement. “Exactly. Nina’s so outstanding, she’ll definitely find someone better in the future.” “I think we should just let Sarah handle these things from now on.” I leaned against the door, feeling nothing in my heart. I’d gotten used to it long ago.

Mom and Dad didn’t use birth control back then and had me by accident. They always felt guilty toward Nina, who should have been an only child. From childhood they told me, “Sarah, don’t compete with Nina. She’s your older sister. You need to defer to her.” Nina took all kinds of enrichment classes growing up—music, chess, calligraphy, painting—she excelled at everything. When I wanted to buy a practice workbook, Mom scolded me for “wasting money.” Nina had a high-paying job in New York, and Mom and Dad secretly supplemented her income with five thousand dollars every month. When I wanted to venture out and see the world, I secretly bought a ticket, but Mom and Dad tore it to pieces. That night, I overheard them discussing in their room: “Nina will get married eventually. We can’t burden her. Sarah’s obedient. Having her take care of us when we’re old will be enough.” In their eyes, Nina was always precious. And me? I was just there to shield Nina from trouble and grievances. A week later, Rowan asked Nina to go hiking. Without a second thought, she refused and pushed me out instead. “Sarah, you go again. Tell him I’m busy with work.” As always, I didn’t argue. I changed into athletic wear and went to the date. While hiking, I walked at a steady pace and would wait for Rowan when he fell behind. I handed him water and helped wipe his sweat. When we reached difficult sections, I’d remind him to be careful. The whole thing was relaxed. I didn’t deliberately try to please him—just did what felt natural. When we reached the summit, Rowan suddenly spoke. “Your sister said she’s busy, but she really just looks down on me, right?” My heart tightened. I was about to explain when he smiled. “I could tell something was off at our first meeting. Today’s hike confirmed it.” “Nina has never given me a kind look, much less been as patient and genuine as you. I won’t force her anymore.” He paused, his gaze becoming especially serious. “Sarah, you’re special. Want to try being together?” “Rowan and I are together now.” When I told Nina, I also took out the gold necklace from last time and gave it to her. “This is for you. Consider it thanks for letting me go on those dates.” Nina clutched the pendant, her brow furrowed, her eyes full of suspicion. “You take home five thousand a month and have to give Mom and Dad three thousand. How can you suddenly afford something this expensive?” I smiled in a seemingly naive way. “I used my savings to buy it for you. It’s not easy finding someone to date in our small town. Rowan makes eight thousand a month, he’s honest, and if I marry him and we’re careful with money, we can live better than most people.” She laughed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, so I did you a favor?” “That’s all the ambition you have—picking up the man I didn’t want and thinking you hit the jackpot?” I lowered my eyes and didn’t respond. I’d listened to her mockery for over twenty years. I was immune to it by now. Since getting together with Rowan, we had dinner dates every Friday, but I was always late. It wasn’t intentional. Ever since Manager Lee’s divorce, he’d been making things difficult for me. Every time just before quitting time, he’d dump a pile of work on me and use “discussing work” as an excuse to grope me. That day, Rowan came to pick me up from the office to make sure I wouldn’t be late. I had just walked out of the office building. Manager Lee chased after me, pretending to hand me something, deliberately rubbing his fingertips across the back of my hand several times. I didn’t pull away. I even frowned slightly, showing a wronged and helpless expression. I knew Rowan could see everything clearly from the car. He suddenly honked the horn and shouted coldly toward the building: “Who are you? Why are you touching her?” Manager Lee jumped in fright and hurried away. The next day at work, the office exploded with gossip. Manager Lee had been urgently transferred to a remote rural township. Colleagues whispered that he must have offended someone important. Otherwise, how could he suddenly be transferred without even a chance to argue back? That evening when Rowan picked me up from work, I casually brought up what had happened. He looked at me, his eyes filled with tenderness. “I did it. I won’t let you be mistreated.”

He came clean about his family background. His father was the top executive at my parent company. His mother was the principal of a private school. He said, “I didn’t mention it during the blind date because I didn’t want to show off.” “I studied in Switzerland for several years and had a girlfriend there. We were together for three years with a great relationship, but when graduation approached, she found out I planned to return to develop my career in this small Southern town. She thought I lacked ambition and broke up with me.” “My parents are getting older and have been pressuring me to marry and have children, which is why I agreed to the blind date.” Suddenly it all made sense. No wonder such a high-quality man needed blind dates to find a partner. Rowan suddenly took my hand, his tone serious. “Sarah, I’m telling you all this because I’m not just playing around with you. I’m serious about getting married.” I looked into his sincere eyes and nodded firmly. In our second month together, I went home with Rowan to meet his family. His parents were wonderful people, completely satisfied with me, and even gave me a valuable gift. Half a year flew by, and we decided to get our marriage license. When I told my parents, they said dismissively that the family’s finances were limited and they could only give me ten thousand dollars as wedding gift. I didn’t argue. I gritted my teeth and took out a bank loan, bringing my wedding gift up to one hundred and eighty thousand. I didn’t want to be looked down on at my wedding, and I definitely didn’t want to be laughed at by Nina and parents. On the wedding day, my in-laws specifically spent a million dollars to hold a lavish ceremony at the best hotel in the area. Well-wishers came in droves—all prominent figures in the local community. Even leaders from my company came to offer their congratulations. But until the ceremony started, I never saw my parents arrive. Just as I stood on stage in my wedding dress, barely able to hold myself together, I received a message from my parents. Just a few short sentences: [Sarah, Mom and Dad aren’t coming. Nina suddenly got a fever, so we have to rush to New York overnight to take care of her.] [Your in-laws are just showing off, insisting on holding it at the most expensive restaurant. We looked at the smallest banquet hall there before—it’s barely bigger than a conference room. Going would just be embarrassing. Nina’s illness is more important.] My knuckles turned white as I gripped my phone. Only then did I realize my parents hadn’t even carefully read the invitation. Subconsciously, they didn’t care about me, and by extension, didn’t care about the husband and family I was marrying into. Fortunately, Rowan’s family didn’t take it to heart at all. In fact, my mother-in-law felt especially sorry for me. They said since I was marrying into the family without money to my name, they’d let me manage all the gift money received. Eight hundred thousand dollars in gift money. Four times the two hundred thousand dollar wedding gift my parents had prepared for Nina. That night, I posted our wedding photos to my feed. But the family group chat remained silent. No one sent a single word of blessing. Nina, however, soon posted a photo of a bowl of soup, captioned: [Family is always the most reliable harbor.] I wasn’t angry or sad. After all, I had eight hundred thousand dollars. Money is the best medicine for healing in this world. Shortly after the wedding, Rowan felt bad about my difficult commute and bought me a Ferrari. That morning, I drove to work and passed a flower bed by the road. I took a photo of the blooming flowers and posted it to my feed. Unexpectedly, Nina directly private messaged me, screenshotting the Ferrari logo visible in the corner of the photo, sending three question marks. [Where did you get a car? And a Ferrari?]

My heart skipped a beat. I immediately remembered that since childhood, Nina couldn’t stand me having anything better than her. Once she found out, she’d find ways to ruin it. I suppressed my thoughts and replied: [Just hitching a ride with a coworker.] Her response dripped with mockery: [Hahaha, hilarious. Someone who rides a bicycle goes to work every day with someone who drives a Ferrari and doesn’t feel inferior? Stop pretending. People get the kind of life they deserve.] I didn’t reply. Instead, I clicked on her feed. She’d been working in New York for four years, and this year her salary had risen to eighteen thousand. It looked glamorous on the surface, but to save commute time, she lived in a studio apartment that cost twelve thousand a month in rent, without even a balcony. Her most recent post was about flowers she bought at a subway station. I’d ridden that subway line before. Even at eleven at night, it was packed so tight you couldn’t breathe. Another post complained about ordering a pretty meal for delivery that cost over a hundred dollars but the portions were so small she couldn’t even fill up. Meanwhile, I only had to drive five minutes after work to eat a hot, home-cooked meal. Life is meant to be lived for yourself, not performed for others. Six months after the wedding, I got pregnant. The whole family was overjoyed. They wouldn’t let me do any chores and made me all kinds of nutritious supplements every day. Coincidentally, not long after, Nina also announced good news in the family group chat, saying she’d found a boyfriend who made seven hundred thousand a year and would bring him home next month during the holidays for Mom and Dad to meet. Mom and Dad were thrilled, praising Nina endlessly for being accomplished and having good taste in men. The holiday season arrived quickly. With my big belly, Rowan supported me as we returned to my parents’ home together. As soon as we walked in, Nina looked me up and down. “Sarah, why are you wearing so little? Poor thing, pregnant and just wearing a thin jacket. Can’t even afford a thicker down coat anymore?” I didn’t explain. The route from our home garage to my parents’ place had heating the whole way. And it was running at full blast, making my face flush red. Seeing my silence, Nina grew even more smug, deliberately raising her voice. “My boyfriend drove a Mercedes GLE here this time. I bet our little town doesn’t even have many luxury cars like that.” Mom and Dad crowded around her in praise. “Nina’s so accomplished! The man she found is rich and treats her well—ten thousand times better than what Sarah found! Sarah, you really need to learn from Nina.” Just as they were talking, Nina’s boyfriend pushed through the door, his face showing some impatience. “Uncle, Auntie, your complex is really hard to find parking in. I drove around in circles for ages before finding a spot.” “But I just saw a Mercedes G-Wagon downstairs. Didn’t expect your small town to have such wealthy neighbors.” The moment he finished speaking, Rowan helped me sit down and casually pulled out the G-Wagon keys from his pocket, placing them in my hand and saying gently: “Honey, are your hands cold?” “Hold onto the keys. When we leave later, you can get in the car first and turn on the heat.” The entire room instantly fell silent.

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