Category: English

A female employee from our external vendor made a massive error on a project proposal in our shared Slack channel. I planned to send her a direct message to kindly give her a heads-up. I sent her a message request, but she ignored it twice. She even changed her profile picture to a matching couple’s photo. My assistant showed me the chat logs from their private company channel. She was bragging to everyone that I was aggressively pursuing her. “I’ve dropped enough hints, but he just won’t let it go. He really needs to look in the mirror and see what a creep he is.” “I literally have a boyfriend. How can he be this desperate? It’s so gross.” “That toad probably had a breakdown last night and didn’t dare reply. He must feel so insecure now, right?” 1. Our company was working on a major project, an eighty-million-dollar deal. Although Manager Hayes was the lead, I was also in the main project Slack channel keeping an eye on things. There were over a hundred people in that channel, an absolute chaotic mess. The vendor was a young creative agency called Vanguard Creatives. A woman named Jessica from their project team dropped a file into the channel. I opened it and gave it a quick scan. The units for the material data were completely wrong. She had written “kilograms” instead of “tons.” The decimal point needed to be moved over three places. It was an easy fix. But if nobody noticed, and the procurement, construction, and cost accounting teams proceeded with those incorrect numbers downstream, it would be an absolute disaster. Vanguard generally had a good reputation and was usually quite responsible. Everyone makes a slip of the finger sometimes. I felt a bit of sympathy. I found Jessica’s profile in the project channel, clicked on it, and sent a direct message request. A day passed. My request vanished into the void. Manager Hayes was the public-facing lead for this project. I didn’t want to step on his toes or seem disrespectful to his authority. So, I hadn’t revealed my actual title in the channel. My display name was just my real name: Michael Thorne. I clicked on Jessica’s profile again and sent another message request. This time, I specifically added a note: “Work-related communication. Need to verify some data in the file.” That should be clear enough, right? Another day passed. Still nothing. I tapped on her profile again. Her profile picture had changed. Yesterday, it was a cartoon girl holding a coffee cup. Today, it had been swapped out for a matching couple’s avatar. It was a little boy and girl, wearing matching goofy striped shirts, with a giant red heart in the background. My heart skipped a beat. Could it be… Does this person think I’m messaging her on a professional app to hit on her? And she specifically rushed to change her profile picture to a couple’s photo just to mark her territory? I shook my head, throwing the thought out of my mind. No way. A normal person’s brain doesn’t work in such a bizarre way. It must be a coincidence. She just happened to change her picture. My assistant, Sam, knocked on my door and walked in. He had a weird look on his face. “Mr. Thorne…” Sam held his phone screen out to me. It was a screenshot of a Slack channel. Looking at the channel name, “#Vanguard-Watercooler,” I guessed it was a private channel set up by the vendor’s employees just to spill tea. The chat was blowing up. An ID named “Jessica (Design Dept Demon Boss),” whose avatar was the exact same matching couple’s photo, was extremely active in the chat. “LMAO, that Michael guy from the client’s side tried to message me again. This time he pretended it was for ‘work-related communication’.” “Ugh, men are so transparent. I can smell his desperation through the screen.” “I think I dropped enough hints, right? I literally put up a couple’s profile pic, and he still won’t let it go. How obsessed with me is he?” “I have a boyfriend, and he’s still acting this desperate. Total creepy, entitled male behavior!” 2. Below her message was a pile of people chiming in. “Hahaha, Jessica’s charm is irresistible!” “Seriously. He needs to take a good look in the mirror.” “A toad trying to punch way above his weight.” Sam scrolled his finger quickly down the screen. There was more. “Jessica’s boyfriend is so hot. He leaves that toad in the dust.” “Right, right?! Handsome and so sweet!” “Of course! My man just bought me the newest designer bag yesterday!” It was that “Jessica (Design Dept Demon Boss)” again. “Some people can probably only drool over my profile picture, hehe.” Sam coughed awkwardly. “Mr. Thorne, I think she really doesn’t know who you are and totally misunderstood.” I looked at the blindingly arrogant words on the screen and spoke. “Tomorrow afternoon, set up a meeting with CEO Mercer from Vanguard. Manager Hayes and I are going.” Sam nodded quickly. “Understood, Mr. Thorne. I’ll arrange it immediately.” He practically sprinted out of my office, phone in hand. I leaned back in my chair, my fingers unconsciously tapping the desk. Interesting. I’ve lived this long, and nobody has ever laughed at me for being a “toad” before. Not long after Sam left, my phone screen lit up on my desk. A notification popped up: “Jessica (Design Dept) has accepted your message request.” Now she accepts it? I looked at that matching couple’s profile picture and let out a cold laugh. I didn’t send a message. I didn’t want to say a single word to her. Talking to someone whose brain operated on such a bizarre frequency was a waste of breath. If I wasn’t careful, it would just become new material for her “harassment” claims. My phone buzzed again. It was a message from her. “Mr. Thorne, hello. First of all, thank you for your admiration.” “But I must formally state: Between us, aside from necessary project-related communication, there will be absolutely nothing else.” “Please ensure you keep your distance from me. This is not only a matter of basic respect for me as a person, but also respect for my boyfriend.” “Emotional boundaries are necessary. I hope you understand and act accordingly.” “Secondly, I am officially being promoted to Project Lead in the Design Department tomorrow.” “I love my work and will be pouring all my energy into it.” “I simply do not have the extra time or energy to deal with unnecessary personal entanglements.” “I’ve said all I need to say. I hope you have some self-respect. – Jessica.” I stared at this massive, righteous, logic-defying “declaration.” My finger hovered over the keyboard. I typed something, deleted it, typed something else, deleted it again. In the end, I didn’t reply with a single word. Reason with her? That would just be asking for a headache. I simply put my phone face down on the desk. Out of sight, out of mind. 3. The next afternoon, Manager Hayes and I arrived right on time outside the Vanguard Creatives building. The vendor’s CEO, Robert Mercer, was indeed waiting by the main lobby entrance with several of his people. As soon as the car stopped, Robert jogged over, his face plastered with an enthusiastic yet slightly nervous smile. “Ah, Mr. Thorne! Manager Hayes! Welcome, welcome! It’s an honor to have you here. You grace our humble office!” He personally opened the car door for me, his posture incredibly deferential. After exchanging a few pleasantries, Robert led us toward the elevators. “The conference room is all set up. Right this way, gentlemen.” The elevator took us straight to the fifth floor. As soon as the elevator doors opened, I could faintly hear a burst of giggling and chatting. It was a group of women’s voices coming from the large conference room at the end of the hall. Chirping away. Robert’s face changed slightly, and he quickened his pace. “These guys. I told them we had important clients coming today.” He muttered under his breath, turning back to give us an apologetic smile. “I’ll have them quiet down immediately.” We reached the conference room. The heavy frosted glass door was closed. The laughter inside was even clearer now. Completely unrestrained. “Haha, Jessica, what happened next? Did that Michael guy reply to you?” An excited female voice asked. My heart sank a little. It was Jessica’s voice next, carrying an undisguised tone of mockery. “Reply? Do you think he’d dare?” “He probably saw my message and completely broke down.” “From last night until now, not a single peep out of him.” “Tsk, I’ve seen so many guys like him. Once I called out his dirty little thoughts, he probably felt so ashamed of himself.” “What a coward!” The room erupted in laughter. “Hahaha, a coward! Jessica, that description is too perfect!” “Right, right?! He doesn’t even know his place, and he dares to hit on Jessica?” “Our Jessica is about to become a Project Lead!” “Exactly, our Jessica is so capable.” “Beautiful, capable, and her boyfriend is so handsome and spoils her so much.” “Some toad could never even compare to one of her boyfriend’s fingers!” Jessica’s voice carried a hint of smug “humility.” “Oh, stop it. My boyfriend is just okay, I guess.” “Yesterday he insisted on taking me to that Michelin-star French place that costs two grand a head. It was so overwhelming.” “I told him we could just eat anywhere, but he wouldn’t listen.” “Oh, right. He also said that once I officially get promoted to Lead, he’s taking me on a trip to Europe to celebrate.” “It’s so annoying. Who has the time? Ugh, he’s such a pain!” Robert Mercer’s face was completely black. His forehead was covered in sweat. He raised his hand to push the door open. I stopped him, signaling him to stay quiet. Manager Hayes stood next to me, his expression also looking a bit stiff. Robert looked at my ice-cold profile. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t dare breathe too loudly. 4. I gave Robert a slight nod, signaling him to go ahead. Robert looked like he had just received a royal pardon. He took a sharp breath and violently shoved open the heavy glass conference room door. BANG. The door slammed against the wall, making a massive racket. The conference room instantly went dead silent. Inside sat three or four young women, gathered around the conference table. Several half-empty iced coffees were scattered across the table. Jessica was sitting next to the head seat, legs crossed, holding a Starbucks cup. She was wearing fairly heavy makeup today and a rather form-fitting dress. The smug, animated look on her face instantly switched to a standard, sycophantic corporate fake smile the moment she saw Robert. “Mr. Mercer!” She was the first to stand up, her voice sickeningly sweet. The other women also scrambled to stand up, plastering smiles on their faces. “Hello, Mr. Mercer.” “Mr. Mercer, you’re here.” Robert’s face was livid. He glared fiercely at Jessica and the others, then stepped aside. “Mr. Thorne, Manager Hayes. Please come in, please.” He forced a smile, gesturing for us to enter. Manager Hayes and I walked in. Jessica’s gaze swept over Manager Hayes, carrying a familiar respect. Then her eyes landed on my face, and the warmth in her eyes visibly plummeted. Manager Hayes coughed, trying to ease the tension. “Mr. Mercer, this is?” I cut him off directly, looking calmly at Jessica. “Hello. I’m Michael Thorne.” I stated my name, my voice not loud. But in the excessively quiet conference room, it was exceptionally clear. The smile on Jessica’s face froze for a second. A flash of shock quickly darted across her eyes. She seemed to think the name sounded familiar. But that brief shock was quickly replaced by a much stronger sense of impatience and disdain. She looked me up and down. Her gaze was like she was evaluating a cheap, defective product. The corners of her mouth curled into a mocking sneer. “Oh?” She dragged out the syllable. “So it’s you, Mr. Michael Thorne.” “Tsk, tsk. You really don’t know when to quit, do you? Are you that desperate?” “You actually chased me all the way to my company, right behind our CEO?” “What, did I bruise your ego when I called you out last night? So you came here today to corner me?” She let out a scoff. “Was my message yesterday not clear enough? Do I really have to repeat it in front of all these people to get it through your thick skull?” “I told you to keep your distance!” “Do you not understand English?” The air was dead silent. The other women’s eyes darted back and forth between me and Jessica, filled with the excitement of watching a trainwreck. Robert’s lips were trembling. “Jessica, shut your damn mouth!” “Mr. Mercer!” Jessica suddenly raised her voice, cutting Robert off, wearing an expression of someone who had suffered the world’s greatest injustice. She pointed her finger at me, almost jabbing it into my face. “Look at him! I was trying to be nice yesterday. I gave him enough face on Slack, hoping he’d take the hint and back off.” “But what does he do? He actually follows me to the office today to harass me.” “Is there no law? Is there no justice?” “Mr. Mercer, you have to do something about this, otherwise I can’t work in peace!” Her voice carried a dramatic sob. Her acting skills were practically Oscar-worthy. 5. Robert’s face was now as white as a sheet. Cold sweat was pouring down his face. I raised my hand and gently batted away the finger that was about to poke me in the eye. “Everyone out.” I glanced at the other women. Robert immediately acted like he had received a divine command, roaring at the women who were watching the show. “Did you hear him?! Get out, immediately! Right now!” The women flinched in terror. They quickly grabbed their drinks and phones, kept their heads down, and scurried out, hugging the walls. As they passed me, their eyes were filled with undisguised disdain and schadenfreude. They definitely thought I was sending everyone away to create an opportunity to be “alone” with Jessica so I could “pursue” her. Truly incredibly stupid. Jessica stood her ground. Watching her coworkers scurry away, the fake grievance on her face vanished instantly, replaced by a smug “I knew it” expression. She even shot a look toward the door, her lips pouting high, and mouthed the words: “See? I told you this toad wouldn’t give up. I yelled at him, and he still wants to be alone with me.” Manager Hayes coughed awkwardly. “Mr. Mercer, Mr. Thorne is…” Robert let out a ragged, heavy breath. “Jessica, shut your f*cking mouth! Do you have any idea who you are talking to?!” Jessica stiffened her neck, looking completely defiant. “Mr. Mercer, how could I not know? He’s the Michael who’s been harassing me!” “I made it very clear to him last night. I told him I have a boyfriend. Even if you’re trying to play matchmaker for him, I’m not going to agree.” “Work is work, and private life is private life. Even if you are the boss, you can’t interfere in your employees’ personal matters.” She turned to look at me. “If you keep doing this, I’m going to expose your disgusting behavior right in the main project channel. Let everyone from both companies judge who’s right!” I was completely speechless. What the hell was she talking about? Her imagination was running wild. What disgusting behavior? Was it just a direct message request? Robert almost roared, cutting her off. “Are your eyes glued to the ceiling?! This is Mr. Thorne from the client’s corporate headquarters! CEO Michael Thorne!” “The biggest boss of our entire project! The eighty-million-dollar deal depends on Mr. Thorne’s approval! Who the hell do you think you are, talking to Mr. Thorne like that?” “His net worth is in the hundreds of millions. He’s the most sought-after eligible bachelor in the city. How many socialites and celebrities are lining up for him? You think he’d look at you?!” “And you dare falsely accuse Mr. Thorne of harassing you? I think you’ve lost your damn mind!” 6. Robert roared until his voice was hoarse, spit flying everywhere. He really couldn’t hold it in anymore. If he let this idiot keep talking, Vanguard Creatives would be shutting its doors tomorrow. “Mr. Thorne from the client’s corporate headquarters?” Jessica’s eyes—which just a moment ago were filled with disdain and impatience—suddenly went wide. Her pupils practically dilated in shock. She stared at me, her mouth slightly open, as if trying to confirm whether Robert was talking crazy. Manager Hayes appropriately chimed in with a low voice. “That’s right, Jessica. This is CEO Michael Thorne from the corporate group. He is responsible for the final review of this project. The project proposal was personally reviewed and vetted by Mr. Thorne.” “The project proposal?” Jessica muttered, repeating the words. Her face started turning from white to red, and then back from red to white. Beneath that shock and disbelief, did I actually catch a hint of secret delight? Her eyes flickered rapidly, and her posture seemed to unconsciously straighten a bit. That shrew-like, aggressive stance she had just a second ago instantly vanished. Her entire aura changed. Hah. I couldn’t be bothered to watch her rapidly changing expressions. I walked straight over and sat in the head seat of the conference table. Manager Hayes and Robert quickly stood on either side behind me. “Sit.” I pointed to the chair across from me. Jessica forced out what she probably thought was her most graceful, even slightly shy smile. “Mr. Thorne, it really was a misunderstanding just now. I didn’t purposely ignore your message request. I just really didn’t expect you to be so young.” “Since you are so sincere, I will definitely give you some serious consideration.” I couldn’t believe it. Even at this point, she still thought I was trying to hit on her. Was her brain broken? I didn’t listen to her nonsense at all. I simply threw the manila envelope in my hand onto the conference table. The sound wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make her jump. I pulled out a printed document from inside. It was the exact file she had uploaded to the main project channel. I flipped to the critical page and tapped my finger heavily on the glaringly incorrect unit. “Jessica. Project Lead Jessica.” My voice was ice-cold. “Is this how Vanguard Creatives works?” “The most basic material data unit possible. You wrote ‘kilograms’ instead of ‘tons’? Moving the decimal point three places?” “Do you know what this means?” “If we procured materials based on this incorrect data, how much would the cost accounting be off on an eighty-million-dollar project?” “How massive of a disaster would the construction materials be?” “The entire project’s timeline, quality, and even safety could have landmines planted in them because of this incredibly stupid mistake!” “Is this the work you ‘love’? Is this the professional competence you are ‘proud of’? Is this the level of someone who is about to become a Project Lead?” I pushed the document forward. “This is why I tried to message you. I wanted to tell you privately, to save you some face.” “But instead of appreciating that, you go full drama queen and imagine this whole theatrical plot.” “And you go around telling everyone I’m harassing you? Desperate? Creepy entitled male? A toad trying to eat swan meat?” “Jessica, tell me. What exactly is inside that head of yours?” My voice wasn’t loud, but every word was a kill shot. Robert’s face turned green listening to this. He violently slammed his hand on the table. “Jessica, you incompetent, blundering idiot! You almost killed the company! You almost ruined all of us!” “And you dare to slander Mr. Thorne? Accuse him of harassing you? Who the f*ck do you think you are! You think Mr. Thorne would look at you? I spit on that!” “Apologize! Apologize to Mr. Thorne immediately!”

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1 On the drive back from picking my daughter up from her dad’s house, she suddenly spoke up. “Mom, you’re actually pretty calculating. You dump me there as soon as break starts, and then drag me back the second school begins.” I shot her a bewildered look, not understanding why she’d say something like that. My daughter continued, “It’s just like when I was a toddler and the hardest to deal with—you bailed. Then, when I got older and easier to manage, you fought tooth and nail to take me back. You always make sure you get the best end of the deal.” When I was pregnant with her, my ex-husband, David, cheated on me. Barely a month after I gave birth, he took my daughter away from me. It was only years later, when his new wife got pregnant, that he finally allowed us to be reunited. I never imagined that, all these years, this was how she saw it. My heart turned to ice. Without a word, I spun the steering wheel around and drove her right back to her dad’s house. 2 As my car pulled up to his gated community, I saw David’s SUV pulling out. My daughter excitedly rolled down the window and yelled, “Dad! Dad!” She signaled for me to stop, then hopped out and jogged over to his car. A moment later, she came back. I watched David’s SUV drive away. His current wife and their young son were in the car with him. “What did he say?” I asked. My daughter rolled her eyes at me, her tone laced with annoyance. “Dad and Ashley are taking Liam to the community center for a class. I told him you agreed to let me keep staying with him.” “Just drop me off here. I can go in by myself.” I watched her skip away, dragging her suitcase behind her, feeling like I was in an alternate reality. When David finally returned her to me, she was already four years old. A tiny little thing, she clung to Ashley, refusing to let go. When I forced myself to pick her up and take her away, she cried so hard she could barely breathe. She kept screaming, “Mommy, Daddy, save me!” as if I were some evil kidnapper tearing her away from her real family. For the first few days, she cried herself to sleep and woke up crying. Every single second, she begged to go back to that house. Thankfully, kids are resilient. Their grief comes and goes quickly. Under my meticulous, round-the-clock care, my daughter finally started calling me “Mom.” As she grew older, she started to understand the complicated dynamics of our family. She stopped calling Ashley “Mom” and switched to “Aunt Ashley.” All these years, terrified of leaving her with any psychological trauma… I never said a single bad word about her father in front of her. I even made sure to drop her off to spend holidays with them. I never expected that in her heart, all of that was just proof of my “calculating” nature. 3 I drove back home alone. Looking at the steak and lobster I had specifically bought to celebrate her coming home, I let out a heavy sigh. Over the years, to make up for the broken home, I never skimped on her clothing, food, or housing. Knowing David had his own new family to worry about, I shouldered 100% of the financial burden of raising her. Thankfully, I had managed to build a relatively successful career for myself. I could afford to spoil my daughter. Realizing I couldn’t possibly eat all this food alone, I called my best friend, Sarah. Then, I buried myself in the kitchen, trying to use the physical labor to fend off the crushing depression in my chest. By the time Sarah arrived, I had already whipped up five dishes and a soup. Staring at the mouth-watering steak and lobster bisque on the table, Sarah clicked her tongue in amazement. “I’m telling you, Claire, with your cooking skills, Chloe is one spoiled kid.” “Why couldn’t you have been my mom? Can I be your daughter instead?” I offered a bitter smile and told her how Chloe would rather stay at David’s than come home to me. Hearing this, Sarah slammed her hand hard on the table. “That little brat! Does she really think her dad actually gives a damn about her?” Then, her eyes welled up with tears. “Claire, I’ve watched how much you’ve sacrificed for that kid all these years.” “Please don’t think this is your fault. She’s probably just hitting her rebellious teenage phase.” I let out a long, heavy sigh. Over the years, how many incredible career opportunities or great guys had I let slip through my fingers? It wasn’t that I didn’t want to grab them, but as a single mom, I had to prioritize her stability. Eight years ago, I was almost engaged to my boyfriend at the time. But when I read a line in Chloe’s diary that said, “If Mom gets remarried, I will never forgive her for the rest of my life,” I resolutely broke things off with him. When it came to Chloe, my conscience was absolutely clear. 4 After seeing Sarah out, I collapsed onto the sofa alone. I had grown so used to having my daughter around; the days without her felt incredibly lonely. I had originally thought I’d be happily bringing her home today. I never expected to have a bucket of ice water dumped over my head instead. I opened Chloe’s social media and, unsurprisingly, saw a blank grey line across her profile. She had blocked me from seeing her posts since she was 15. I couldn’t see a single thing she shared. It was as if I were some kind of terrifying monster. After thinking about it, I sent her a picture of the steak and lobster. [Hey sweetie, did Dad cook for you? What did you have for dinner tonight?] A little while later, she sent a picture back. I clicked on it. It was a pile of pizza and fried food. [Dad brought me back some leftover pizza. It was good.] Even though I could tell at a glance from the size of the takeout box that it was likely just leftovers from their dinner out. But seeing that she seemed to be in a good mood, I played along. [As long as it’s good, eat up. Mom will make it for you next time.] She didn’t reply again. Feeling melancholic, I locked my phone and got up to take out the trash. Walking through the apartment complex, I ran into an old coworker, Brenda. She had witnessed David’s affair and the messy divorce that followed firsthand. She knew all my dirty laundry inside and out. After a few minutes of small talk, she suddenly asked: “Hey, isn’t your daughter back yet?” I answered automatically, “No, she’s spending the summer at her dad’s.” “Really? I actually ran into your ex-husband and his family at Six Flags today, but I didn’t see your daughter.” Six Flags? Weren’t they taking the kid to a class at the community center? I forced a dry laugh. “Kids get older, they probably don’t want to hang out with the family as much.” Brenda nodded knowingly, her eyes filling with a deeper sense of pity. “It’s just a shame you’ve wasted so many years. If you meet someone decent, you really should put yourself out there.” Normally, I would have politely but firmly declined. But today, driven by some inexplicable impulse, I actually nodded. “Okay. If you know anyone suitable, feel free to introduce us.” 5 I didn’t expect Brenda to move so fast. The very next day, she sent me an address. “It’s a distant nephew of mine, just moved back from the States. You guys should meet.” Afraid I wouldn’t go, she quickly added: “He’s a great catch. He’s been so focused on his career all these years that he never got married. Just treat it like making a new friend.” Even though I was already regretting what I’d agreed to yesterday… Since things were already in motion, I went to the restaurant at the agreed-upon time. When I saw the silhouette of the man waiting for me, I almost didn’t process it. “Claire?” “Mark?” Looking at the surprised face of the man in front of me, I let out a surprised laugh. Years ago, because Chloe had thrown a massive fit and refused to let me marry Mark. I had initiated a harsh, clean break with him. At the time, he had desperately begged to know why, but I only apologized and refused to see him again. Later, I heard he had moved overseas, and I locked that relationship away deep in my heart. I never imagined that our reunion today would be a blind date. Was it just a massive coincidence, or was it fate? “If I had known it was you, I would have come even if I had to crawl,” he joked with a smile. I laughed along. “I can’t believe after all these years, you still aren’t married.” A shy, bashful smile spread across Mark’s face. Just like eight years ago, when our relationship was at its best. We had a wonderful dinner. Before we left, Mark looked at me and spoke with genuine sincerity. “Actually, all these years, I never forgot you. We…” “It’s not possible anymore,” I cut him off cleanly. “My daughter is taking her SATs next year. I don’t want to hold you back.” “Alright,” he shrugged with a hint of regret. “But I still wish you happiness.” 6 When I turned on the lights in my apartment, I realized my daughter was already home. “Sweetie? Why didn’t you tell Mom you were coming back?” Pleasantly surprised, I swapped my heels for slippers and moved to hug her. Chloe sat on the sofa, arms crossed, glaring at me coldly. “Where were you? Why are you back so late? Have you been drinking?” I sniffed my clothes. I didn’t smell anything. “I just had dinner with a friend and a glass of wine. What’s wrong?” “A friend?” Chloe sneered, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. “Are you sure about that ‘friend’?” On the screen was a clear photo of Mark and me having dinner together. “If a classmate hadn’t run into you and asked me why my mom was out on a date…” “I wouldn’t have even known you were still talking to this random guy.” Looking at my daughter’s mocking expression, I forced myself to be patient and explain. “Mom only found out it was Mark when I got to the restaurant. We just caught up as old friends.” “Please. You just can’t survive without a man, can you?” My daughter’s words hit me like a physical blow. I stood frozen in place. “Did you think I didn’t know about you secretly meeting up with my math teacher?” “And Mr. Davis? You guys text every single day. Isn’t that disgusting?” “You preach to me every day about not dating in high school, but your own personal life is filthier than anyone’s.” “You really think nobody knows the disgusting things you do? Having a mother like you is humiliating.” My daughter screamed at me as if she were venting a deep-seated hatred. When she finished, she grabbed her bag, slammed the door, and stormed out. Leaving me standing alone in the living room, trying to digest the vile character assassination delivered by the person I loved most in the world. 7 Chloe had always struggled with math, so I frequently communicated with her teacher, hoping to find ways to boost her grades. Since she was a sickly child, I was constantly in touch with Dr. Davis, her pediatrician, to manage her health. And Mark? Today was the first time I had seen him in 8 years, and I had no intention of seeing him again. I never, ever imagined that in my daughter’s heart, this was the kind of person I was. Selfish, calculating, promiscuous, desperate for male attention. I sat on the sofa with a bitter smile, feeling a pain in my chest that was even sharper than the day I caught David cheating. That day, he had shielded Ashley behind him and told me: “Claire, if you’re angry, take it out on me. Don’t hurt an innocent person.” They were the innocent ones. I was the villain. I don’t know how long I sat in the dark. My phone chimed. I opened it. Sarah had sent me a screenshot. [What is Ashley trying to pull? She’s really treating your daughter like her own.] I tapped on the image. It was a selfie of Ashley with her arm around Chloe. The caption read: [My poor, misunderstood girl.] Chloe’s eyes were still red from crying, but she was leaning into Ashley’s embrace. A perfect picture of mother-daughter bonding. I clicked over to Chloe’s profile. Surprisingly, I could see a new post. It was the exact same photo, but with a different caption. [Heart-to-heart with Mom.] I hadn’t been granted access to her posts in almost two years. So in this moment, I was absolutely certain she had unblocked me just so I could see this. She wanted me to see their “mother-daughter” bond. She wanted me to see her leaning on another woman. She knew perfectly well that Ashley was the woman her father cheated with, yet she still chose to call her “Mom.” Maybe only the people closest to you know exactly where to twist the knife so it hurts the most. But she wasn’t a child anymore. She needed to take responsibility for her own choices. And I was going to support her decision. This daughter… I didn’t want her anymore. 8 For the next few weeks, I poured all my energy back into my career. I proactively took on several massive, complex projects, working until my head spun every single day. Naturally, I didn’t have the time or energy to obsess over what Chloe was doing. I didn’t send five or six texts a day, desperately trying to prove my love. I imagine she was quite happy to be rid of me. During this time, Ashley only contacted me once. Her voice was still that soft, gentle purr that seemed to captivate both men and women. “Claire, when are you going to come pick Chloe up?” At the time, I was busy finalizing the final draft of a major design project. I replied with genuine confusion: “She has arms and legs. She can come back whenever she wants.” All these years, I had strictly adhered to a “no contact unless absolutely necessary” policy with David, communicating only through Ashley when needed. When it came to that cheating bastard and his mistress, my stance was always: ‘I hope you two are locked together forever.’ Ashley didn’t say much else, only trying to excuse Chloe’s behavior by saying she was in her rebellious teenage phase. She asked me to be a little more understanding if she had done anything to upset me. I almost laughed out loud. The mistress who usurped my marriage was now trying to lecture me on maternal patience. “She can do whatever she wants. You don’t need to tell me that.” To my surprise, Chloe actually did come home on her own. That day, my department had finally closed a massive deal, and as the Director, I treated my team to dinner. I drank a little too much out of sheer excitement, and one of the junior girls on my team had to drive me home. As soon as I walked through the door, I saw Chloe storming out of her bedroom, looking pissed. “You really are going wild, aren’t you? What kind of mother acts like this?” My junior, Maya, who was just about to say hello, froze in her tracks. She shot me an awkward glance, then forced a polite smile. “This must be Chloe! Director Li talks about you all the time. You’re so pretty.” Chloe glared at her and scoffed. Then she turned, slammed her bedroom door shut, and went back inside. Tipsy and exhausted, I told Maya to drive safe, and then I fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. 9 The reason Chloe came back was that the new school year was starting. Previously, to accommodate the intense schedule of her junior year, I had meticulously planned out her schedule for the entire year, optimizing every single second. This meant I had to wake up at 4:30 AM every day to make breakfast, and drive her to school at 5:30 AM sharp. I’d rush home at 6:00 PM to cook dinner, then drive back to work at 8:00 PM. I’d sneak out of the office early at 11:30 AM just to deliver a hot lunch to her school. And the evenings were a whole new battleground… But back then, I felt incredibly fulfilled. It felt like we were fighting the battle of high school together. But now, looking at that meticulously color-coded schedule, I just felt like the old me was completely insane. I had a perfectly good life, and I chose to torture myself. I wasn’t expecting it, but on the very first day of school, Chloe was late. She barged into my bedroom, furious, screaming at me to drive her to school. “It’s 8:00 AM, do you realize that?! Morning homeroom is already over!” “Why didn’t you wake me up?! WHY!!!” I was groggily jolted awake by her screaming, her voice piercing my eardrums. “The allowance I gave you yesterday included Uber money.” “If you think the commute is too inconvenient, you can apply to live in the dorms.” “I am not obligated to drive you to school every morning. I’ll pick you up in the evenings since it’s late.” Seeing she was about to argue, I glanced at my phone. “It’s almost 8:30 now. Are you sure you want to keep throwing a tantrum here?” Chloe stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I actually knew exactly why she had overslept. At 2:00 AM last night, I could still hear the sound of video games coming from her room. In the past, I would have gone in and scolded her, telling her to go to sleep immediately. But now, what did any of that have to do with me?

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So, when he turned 28, I was already 33. He used to tell me that age would never be an issue between us. But later, he told his childhood best friend: “I don’t know what it is, man. But once Sarah crossed 30, I just felt she was… kind of dirty.” Then, he found a mistress. She looked a bit like me. He gave me his love, and gave her his sex. He thought he had the perfect, flawless setup. Until I handed him the divorce papers. I smiled and told him, “Actually, there’s one huge perk to dating and marrying an older woman. And that is, an older woman knows how to play the game—and she knows how to take a loss!” 01 A woman’s sixth sense is terrifyingly sharp when it needs to be. While Caleb Wright was taking a shower, a call came through on his phone. It was a local number, no caller ID. I answered it. I said “Hello” twice, and asked “Who is this?” The person on the other end didn’t make a sound and hung up immediately. Those few seconds of silence felt like a mutual understanding. The other person knew who I was. And I realized that something was very wrong. So, I unlocked Caleb’s phone. Using that phone number, I tracked down her profile on his social media apps. It was a young girl with a soft, cute anime profile picture. Her nickname was “Sweetheart,” there was no saved contact name, and her notifications were set to mute. Their chat history was completely clean. Except for one unread message: [I miss you.] Just those three words made my heart violently clench. I figured, there was a massive chance Caleb was cheating on me. My hand holding the phone suddenly felt weak and shaky. I clicked into the girl’s feed. Her cover photo was a selfie—messy bun, duck lips, radiating youthful energy. She was undeniably pretty. I didn’t look too closely. I just pulled out my own phone and took a picture of the screen. She didn’t have many posts. I scrolled through quickly and froze on one of them. She wrote: [I told you I only wanted $143! Not a penny more!] Below it was a screenshot. A screenshot of her Venmo history with Caleb. Her note for him: Princess Feeder. She asked Caleb: [Where’s my $143?] Caleb transferred her $2,000. She didn’t accept it. She sent it right back. [I only want $143!] Caleb replied with a string of ellipses, but eventually sent her the exact amount she asked for. She replied: [Do you know what 143 means? It means ‘I love you’—I want to be with you forever!] My face was totally blank. I took a picture of it all for my records. After exiting the girl’s feed, I opened Caleb’s bank and Venmo apps. I checked every single transaction between them. One after another, scrolling down, there was seemingly no end to it. The most consistent ones were the massive $5,000 transfers at the beginning of every month. That had been going on for three months. Besides that, there were hundreds of random transfers. A thousand here, two thousand there, a hundred, two hundred. Countless. Including the special numbers: $143, $520, $1314. I photographed every single transaction. Throughout the entire process, I was dead calm. I was even calm enough to mark their chat as “unread” before I put the phone down. 02 “What’s wrong? Why are you zoning out?” Caleb walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel, looking at me with confusion. I snapped back to reality. I looked up at him. He was only wearing a towel. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, eight-pack abs. Caleb had always kept himself in incredible shape. People used to envy me: “With a guy who looks like that, as long as he isn’t out committing murder or arson, what can’t you forgive? Plus, he’s so devoted to you!” I used to think Caleb was devoted to me, too. But looking at it now, that was just my own delusion. “Nothing. Someone just called your phone, didn’t say a word, and hung up. Do you want to check it?” “Probably just a spam call. Ignore it.” Caleb’s expression was completely natural as he took the phone. He threw his damp towel into the hamper and grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the nightstand. “I’m gonna go smoke on the balcony.” Because I hated the smell of smoke, Caleb always went out to the balcony. Turns out, he wasn’t really going out there to smoke. A moment later, he walked back in. He started changing his clothes while talking to me. “Babe, I gotta head out for a bit. It’s an emergency, don’t wait up for me.” “What happened?” “The machines over at Greg’s shop are acting up. I don’t know if the guy’s just cursed or what. They were totally fine during calibration, but the screens keep glitching out on him. I need to go take a look. If it gets too late, I’ll just crash there.” “Is Liam going with you?” “Yeah!” It sounded so real. He had facts, he had a timeline, he even had a witness. I nodded. “Drive safe.” 03 Caleb left in a hurry. I stared at our framed wedding photo on the wall for a long time. I just couldn’t understand. Why? Why would Caleb cheat? And that girl. Who was she? Her face, her financial dynamic with Caleb, her social media posts… Everything flashed through my mind, piece by piece. Suddenly, I caught something. I scrambled for my phone. That girl. I had seen her before. 04 It was about six months ago. Caleb had been taken to the police precinct for getting into a bar brawl. I went to bail him out. He was mostly fine, just a scrape on his cheekbone. But his mood was awful. His eyes were vicious, his whole body radiating hostility. Aside from his teenage years, I hadn’t seen Caleb like that in a very long time. He had beaten the other guy to a bloody pulp. He clearly hadn’t held back. The other guy was screaming for an apology and compensation. Caleb just sneered. If I hadn’t been holding him back, he would have lunged at the guy again. After the paperwork was finally sorted, I led him out. A girl wearing an apron from a local diner rushed up to us. She thanked Caleb profusely: “Sir, if I hadn’t run into you today, I really don’t know what would have happened. Seriously, thank you so much!” I paused and looked at Caleb. He looked completely impatient. “I suggest you get a new job.” The girl looked distressed. “If I had any other choice, I wouldn’t be…” Caleb’s expression grew even more irritated. He cut her off roughly. “Not my problem. Do whatever you want!” Maya Davis had come with me that day. As Caleb shook the girl off and stormed ahead, Maya pulled my arm: “Don’t you think that girl looks a little bit like you?” I laughed it off, thinking she was overthinking it. But I couldn’t help glancing back at the girl one more time. The image in my memory merged perfectly with the photo on the phone. It was her. 05 Caleb didn’t come home that night. He finally walked in the following evening. He brought me takeout from my favorite Mexican spot. “It’s from that place you love. I waited in line forever. You eat first, I’m gonna hit the shower!” “Okay!” Caleb went into the bathroom. I grabbed my spare keys, carried the takeout bag, and headed straight to the underground garage. His car had been washed. It was spotless. The passenger seat was adjusted to the position I usually kept it in. There seemed to be absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. But none of that was what I was there for. I wanted the dashcam footage. I pulled the memory card and reviewed all the footage from yesterday to today. Caleb drove to the south side of the city. He called the girl and said two words: “Come down!” The girl practically skipped as she hopped into the passenger seat. The sound of kissing. Heavy breathing. “Did you touch that old woman?” “Shut up!” “Did you or not?” Caleb’s voice was hoarse, thick with lust. “What do you think?” The girl sounded smug: “You’re all mine!” “Don’t go begging for mercy later!” The speed of the car perfectly illustrated the driver’s urgency. The car finally parked at an apartment complex near the local college. The next time the camera recorded video, it was 10:00 AM the following day. Only Caleb was in the car. The video played quietly. I sat in the car, my entire body stiff. My muscles were so tense they ached. I reached out to turn off the screen, but a phone rang through the audio. It was Liam Carter, Caleb’s best friend. “Where are you man? Why aren’t you here yet?” “On my way!” “Tsk. Being this late isn’t your style. Don’t tell me you were with your little Sweetheart again.” Caleb just hummed in agreement. Liam sounded somewhat speechless: “No way, man. The frequency of this is way too high. Are you falling for her?” Caleb chuckled lightly. “What’s real? What’s fake?” “Cut the crap! I thought you were just playing around. How did this turn into a long-term thing? Weren’t you so madly in love with Sarah you’d die for her? Why the sudden cheating?” That question seemed to stump Caleb. After a long pause, he finally spoke: “Sarah is 33.” “And?” “I don’t know why, man. But once she crossed thirty, I just felt she was… kind of dirty.” 06 How long had it been since Caleb touched me? I smoked a cigarette while thinking about it. It felt like it started right around six months ago. During that time, work had gotten crazy. I was pushing for a promotion, pulling all-nighters, working back-to-back shifts. Every day I came home, all I wanted to do was sleep. Caleb would wrap his arms around me, trying to kiss me. I pushed him away. “Stop, I’m too exhausted. Next time!” The first time, Caleb didn’t mind. He even felt bad for me. The second time, he wasn’t happy, but he kept his temper in check. The third time, he got mad and slammed the door as he left. I had to track him down at a bar later that night. I realized I was handling things poorly. So I wrapped my arms around his neck and accepted his aggressive kisses. That time wasn’t beautiful. It actually hurt. Caleb noticed, and finished quickly. That night, he turned his back to me. It was the first time he hadn’t rolled over to hold me. I felt helpless. I didn’t know how to fix it, and I didn’t know how to coax him back into a good mood. But he managed to fix his own mood before I could. He said it was his fault. He said he was being too impatient. “Don’t overthink it, and don’t take it to heart. Once you’re done with this busy period, let’s take a vacation!” I thought the issue was resolved. He was still good to me. Even though he no longer held me when we slept, even though we hadn’t been intimate in six months. He was still good to me. But now he was saying that he thought I was dirty. That word. From the moment I heard it until now, just thinking about it sent chills deep into my bones. My hand holding the cigarette hadn’t stopped shaking. The ash fell onto my hand, burning my skin. But it was nothing compared to the damage that one word had done to me. 07 Caleb called me, asking where I was and why I wasn’t back yet. I told him I went downstairs to throw out the trash and would be right up. He just said, “Okay.” “I’m gonna go to sleep then!” By the time I got upstairs, Caleb was already fast asleep. He was facing the left, clinging to the edge of the bed, leaving more than half the mattress empty for me. I didn’t get under the covers. I just sat on the edge of the bed. I stared at his back all night. The year I met him, he was eighteen. He had just been accepted to a college in this city. The rebellious teenager had applied to a school behind his parents’ backs, grabbed his acceptance letter, and ran. He didn’t even pack luggage, just a backpack. His older brother, Ethan Wright, was worried about him. Ethan asked for a favor and had me pick him up at the bus station. “He has no money on him, and the dorms aren’t open yet. Let him crash at your place for a bit. The kid is stubborn as hell. If he says or does anything to piss you off, just smack him!” I thought Ethan was insane. Even if he was just a kid, there was no way I was letting him live with me. I was fully prepared to just rent him a hotel room. But he looked so pathetic. And so obedient. When I got to the station, he was squatting under a big tree, hugging his backpack like an abandoned puppy. He quietly followed me back to my apartment. Before I could even tell him he needed to stay somewhere else, he grabbed my sleeve and started playing the pity card. “Sarah, I’ll be so good. I’ll cook for you, I’ll clean the apartment. Please don’t kick me out!” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I thought he was just sweet-talking me. But he actually cooked for me every single day. He even rode his little electric scooter to pick me up from work. Because of him, my lonely, quiet apartment finally felt alive. The daily grind suddenly didn’t feel so exhausting anymore. We lived under the same roof for a month. Eventually, I helped him buy his dorm supplies and moved him onto campus. At first, I thought it was just a fleeting moment in time. But later he told me, he only applied to that university because of me. He said he saw me once when he was sixteen. And from then on, I was the only thing he looked forward to. This man—back when he was still just a boy—offered me his entire, unblemished heart. I fell for it. But now, he wanted it back. So I had to pull myself out of the mud, as fast as I could.

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At my family’s reality TV show appearance, the host asked us to share a funny story about our brother. My older sister laughed, “To help me collect this rare set of blind box figures I wanted, he bought out the entire store’s inventory.” My younger sister chimed in, “He meant to send a picture of his dog to our family group chat, but accidentally sent a shirtless selfie instead!” My brother’s ears turned red. “Shut up!” The studio audience erupted in laughter. The host then turned to me. “Did you happen to save that photo, middle sister?” I held my hands up. “No. Because I wasn’t in that group chat.” The atmosphere instantly froze. The host hurriedly tried to smooth things over. “Well, I’m sure he’s bought you plenty of blind boxes too, right?” I offered a shy, timid smile. “No. But he did give me a four-leaf clover necklace once.” The audience let out a collective “Aww,” marveling at the wealth and generosity. I blinked innocently. “He originally bought it for my older sister. But to get me to agree to move out of the house and live in the school dorms, he used it to bribe me.” “When my sister saw the necklace on me later, she called me a thief.” “My dad threw me into the swimming pool so I could ‘sober up’ and realize my place. They only found out it was a misunderstanding later. Funny, right?” “Huh? Why isn’t anyone laughing?” 1 The show was broadcasting live. The massive screen in front of us was scrolling with real-time viewer comments: [Oh my god, I smell drama.] [Rich family secrets? Shocking insider info?] [Grab your popcorn, people!] [Wait, didn’t the superstar brother previously say he only had ONE older sister and ONE younger sister? Where did this middle sister pop up from?] [I just checked his Wiki page. The family section literally doesn’t list a middle sister. What’s going on?] [She doesn’t look adopted either. She clearly looks like the mom.] The netizens were spot on. I was indeed a biological daughter of the Sterling family. It’s just that while we shared blood, we shared absolutely no affection. My parents had four children in total: one boy and three girls. I was the second youngest. Our family originally lived in a small, coastal working-class town. When my uncle made it big out of state, he offered to bring my parents into his business. However, he could only secure spots in the local elite schools for three children. After a brief discussion, my parents decided to leave me behind in our small town. They asked my dad’s former coworker to take care of me, promising to send him $100 a month for my living expenses. I finished middle school in that small town before finally being brought to the Sterling family. By that time, they were already living in a massive, sprawling mansion. I only lived in that house for one semester during my sophomore year of high school. After transferring to a new school, I chose to live in the dorms. I rarely went home, maybe once a month at most. I was almost never seen in the same frame as my parents or siblings. It made perfect sense that the internet didn’t know I existed. In fact, when the producers of this reality show came knocking, I just happened to be visiting the house. Before that day, no outsider knew the Sterling family had a hidden daughter. 2 [Ahhh! This girl is from my high school! She was the absolute valedictorian of the district. She just graduated college this year. We all knew she was a genius, but we had NO idea she was a billionaire heiress!] [Wait, public high school?? A Sterling kid went to a public high school? Are you joking?] [It’s true! She transferred there from the elite prep academy.] [What? Why would you give up a mansion to go live in a crappy dorm room? That’s insane.] Watching the live comments dig deeper and deeper, I smiled sweetly at the camera. “Please don’t misunderstand. After I explained the situation, my family apologized to me.” “Our family values discipline. My dad is very strict about moral character, so he only acted harshly out of tough love.” “He holds himself to high standards, which is why he runs his business so successfully.” “My brother told me to live in the dorms to foster my independence. He was doing it for my own good.” “And after the misunderstanding was cleared up, my dad even wired me a generous compensation fund.” The host immediately seized the opportunity. “Care to share the exact number? Let us peasants experience the high life!” I turned to look at my dad. “Dad, how much was it again?” My dad kept his face perfectly straight. “$30,000.” “Wow!” The studio audience gasped in envy. My dad continued, his tone authoritative, “Our family operates on a clear system of rewards and punishments. If you do well, you’re rewarded; if you mess up, you’re penalized. No beating around the bush. That’s exactly how I run my company…” The skepticism in the comments instantly morphed into praise: [That’s a true businessman for you. Principled.] [Papa Sterling, please kick me into a pool and give me $30,000!] [Crying, I want a good brother like him too!] Amidst the chorus of flattery, the taping concluded successfully. My dad, looking incredibly smug and self-satisfied, actually offered to let me ride home in his car. I glanced at my younger sister, Chloe, who was pouting heavily. “No thanks. Let Snowball ride in my spot. He doesn’t like it when I get too close.” Snowball was Chloe’s Doberman. He was incredibly vicious. I still have a scar on my calf from where he bit a chunk out of me. My mom shot Chloe a look of fake, affectionate exasperation. “You child, you’re so spoiled. Make the dog give up his seat for your sister.” Chloe affectionately pressed her face against the dog’s head, shooting me a provocative glare. “I’ll give up the seat, but that depends on whether my sister is brave enough to sit in it.” “Oh, you,” my mom sighed, as if she were totally helpless against her youngest daughter’s antics. She turned back to me. “Well, Maya, why don’t you just take an Uber to The Grand Bistro?” Before filming started, they had planned to go out for a late-night celebratory dinner afterward. Except, at the time, I wasn’t included in that headcount. I looked at the darkening expressions of my older sister, Mia, and Chloe, and smiled. “I’m a little tired. I think I’ll skip it.” My mom let out a barely concealed sigh of relief, though she made sure to complain verbally: “You really are ungrateful. You never participate in family activities, and then you’ll turn around and say I play favorites.” “Mom, that’s enough,” my brother, Liam, interrupted, walking over and grabbing my arm. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.” 3 Unlike the cold shoulder she gave me, Chloe leaned on Liam’s car window, repeatedly urging him: “Liam, hurry up and come back! We’ll wait for you.” I tried to pull my arm free. “I can just call an Uber. You don’t have to go out of your way.” Liam wouldn’t let go. “You’re my sister. How is it going out of my way?” I raised an eyebrow in surprise. Well, this was new. Liam, actually saying something nice to me. Then I glanced at the fans secretly filming us with their phones from the parking lot perimeter. Ah. Got it. Once the car pulled onto the street, I stared blankly out the window. While waiting at a red light, Liam suddenly spoke: “I didn’t expect you to still remember that incident.” I smiled, still looking out the window. He sighed. “Regardless of what happened, I have to thank you for today.” Well, this was truly a rare occasion. The arrogant, privileged superstar young master was actually thanking me. Just as I was about to drop a sarcastic remark, my phone dinged with a text alert. [Dad has transferred $30,000 to your account] [You performed well today. This is your reward.] I accepted the transfer and showed the text thread to Liam. “Bro, how about some actual, tangible gratitude?” Liam agreed without hesitation. “I already ordered the newest four-leaf clover necklace for you. It’ll be delivered tomorrow.” I smiled brightly. “Thanks, bro.” Liam’s expression turned slightly unnatural. “You don’t have to thank me. I should have given it to you a long time ago.” He wasn’t lying. During my sophomore year, he used a necklace to bribe me into moving out of the house and into the school dorms. But he didn’t tell Mia beforehand. When Mia saw the necklace in my hands, she immediately accused me of being a thief. The entire family took her side. I couldn’t swim at the time. My dad kicked me into the deep end of the pool, and I swallowed lungfuls of water. I thrashed and choked in absolute terror. They just stood on the edge of the pool, watching me with cold, indifferent eyes. It was only because Liam came home just in time that I was pulled out before I drowned. Mia clutched that necklace, her expression haughty and arrogant. “I don’t care. If he gave it to me first, it’s mine.” My dad casually shoved a few crumpled bills into my hand. “It’s just a necklace. If your sister likes it, let her have it. Go buy yourself another one.” The money he handed me amounted to exactly $150. That was also the very first bit of “pocket money” I received after returning to the Sterling family. The streetlights blurred past the car window. I narrowed my eyes. “It’s fine. Better late than never, right?” 4 During the short drive to drop me off, Chloe called Liam at least three times. He dropped me off at my apartment building and sped off in a massive hurry. I took a hot bath and had just comfortably settled into bed when my phone chimed with a rapid succession of notifications. I checked it. Mia had added me to the family group chat. [Mia: Welcome Maya to the group! This was my oversight, I completely forgot to add you before.] [Chloe: (Yawn emoji) Honestly, we barely talk in this group anyway, so it doesn’t really matter if she’s in it or not. (Doge emoji)] [Mia: (Smile) (Smile) (Smile)] [Liam: Maya, is there anything you want to eat? I can bring you some takeout. (Image) (Image) (Image)] A barrage of mouth-watering food photos flooded the screen, pushing Mia and Chloe’s conversation out of view. I originally intended to decline, but changed my mind at the last second: [Anything is fine, thanks bro.] Liam replied with an “OK” emoji. After that, no one spoke in the group again. I opened a different, private chat thread and transferred the $30,000 over. [Uncle Miller, I’ve already arranged everything with the hospital in Boston. Next week, you and Auntie take Ryan down there for his prosthetic eye surgery first. I’ll meet you guys there afterward.] The “typing…” indicator at the top of the chat box flashed for a long time. Finally, the response came through: [Please be careful with everything you do. We are waiting for you.] My nose stung, and tears rolled down my cheeks. Soon. It will all be over soon. 5 The next morning, Mom called me down for breakfast. Chloe blinked at me innocently. “Maya, it’s such a shame you didn’t come eat with us last night. The king crab was so fresh.” Mia nudged a groggy-looking Liam. “Liam, didn’t you say you were going to bring Maya some takeout?” Liam froze, a look of genuine guilt washing over his face. “I’m so sorry, Maya. I completely forgot.” Before I could even respond, my mom set her bowl down with a sharp clack. “What is there to apologize for? You told her to come, and she refused. Who made the rule that you must bring her food? We don’t tolerate princess syndrome in this house.” I let out a helpless sigh. “Mom, you’re overthinking it. I didn’t expect him to.” “Whether you expected it or not, I can’t guarantee you won’t throw a fit later. I’m just educating you now. You just need to tell me if you heard me or not.” “This nasty habit of always talking back must be something you picked up from that Miller family. You’ve been back for almost three years and still haven’t fixed it. How am I supposed to show you off in public acting like this?” “I was actually planning to set you up on a date with the Harrison boy, so you two could get to know each other…” “Mom!” Liam cut her off sharply. “Maya just graduated college. She still needs to go to grad school. Why are you setting her up on blind dates?” “Oh, right,” my mom said, as if she had suddenly remembered. She stared at me intently. “What score did you get on the entrance exams? Which school did you apply to?” I kept my expression perfectly neutral. “It’s not great. Nowhere near as good as Mia’s. I only scored a 650. I applied to Western State.” My mom seemed to let out a massive sigh of relief. She asked again to double-check, “Really?” “The acceptance letter is on my desk. The maid should have seen it when she was cleaning.” My mom turned to look at the maid, Maria. Maria nodded confirming it. The tension in my mom’s face instantly vanished, and her tone softened considerably: “650 isn’t terrible, even though it can’t compare to your sister’s score. Western State is a decent school, it’s just a bit far from home.” “But transportation is so convenient these days, you can come back whenever you want.” I murmured an agreement, and my mom finally broke into a full smile. “Eat up, before the food gets cold.” Chloe snatched a piece of sausage I was just about to grab with my fork, and tossed it to her Doberman. “I could never bear to move away from home. Next year, when I take my exams, I’m going to get into the same Ivy League school as Mia.” Mia smiled smugly. “Great! When you get here, you can take over my spot as Student Body President.” The conversation seamlessly shifted back to revolving around Mia and Chloe. Only then did I realize that my back was covered in a layer of cold sweat. If I hadn’t realized early on that my mother despised the idea of me outshining my sisters, and deliberately tanked my exam scores… Then right now, I would be facing that disastrous blind date. The Harrison boy she mentioned was a notorious, wealthy playboy in our city. He had publicly bragged that he intended to have a wife and a dozen mistresses, funding them all with his trust fund. Any family with a shred of decency refused to marry their daughters to him. But my own mother wanted to set me up with him. A metallic taste rose in the back of my throat. I forced it down by taking a large gulp of my oatmeal. Liam picked up a piece of sausage and placed it in my bowl. “When your freshman orientation starts, I’ll drive you.” “Okay, thanks bro.” Mia smiled and asked, “What are your plans for today, Maya? Do you want to come to the spa with us?” I rubbed my hands together awkwardly. “Ah, I would really love to, but I already made plans with Ryan today. I can’t stand him up.” Mia raised an eyebrow, a meaningful, mocking smirk on her lips. “Oh. Well, have fun with that.” Liam shot me a look. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but frowned and swallowed his words. 6 Ryan and I are both cycling enthusiasts. We rode our bikes along the coastal boardwalk, completing a full loop before finally stopping under the shade of some palm trees. “Here.” Ryan handed me a boba tea. It was my absolute favorite: Jasmine Green Tea with extra boba. It was hilariously tragic that my entire biological family had no idea what I liked. But the neighbor boy knew every single detail. “Thanks.” I took it, sipping the tea while gazing out at the vast ocean. He followed my gaze, his voice soft. “You like the ocean?” “Yeah. I grew up by the sea. Even though my small hometown isn’t as glamorous as this city, I loved it there.” Because over there, I had people who truly loved me. Uncle Miller, Auntie Miller. And my “brother,” Ryan’s older brother, Leo. Ryan smiled, but then his expression quickly darkened. He looked at me seriously: “Maya, there’s something I don’t think I should hide from you.” He pulled out his phone and opened a group chat titled [The Garden (No Maya Allowed)]. “Yesterday, before your sister added you to the main family chat, she created a new, secret group. Look for yourself.” He thoughtfully scrolled back to yesterday’s chat history for me. [Chloe: Moving operations over here. We’ll chat in this group from now on.] [Mia: Copy that.] [Dad: 1.] [Mom: 1.] [Liam: …] [Mia: But we can’t completely ignore the main chat, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.] [Chloe: That’s easy. Mom, just forward those random cooking tutorial videos into the main chat. She’ll have to watch them before she can reply and try to start a conversation, right?] [Mom: No, what if she actually tries to talk to me about them? I won’t know how to respond.] [Chloe: @Dad, Dad, just forward those dense financial articles into the chat. She won’t understand a word of them.] [Dad: Not necessary. She behaved well today, clearly trying to suck up to us. I gave her a taste of the sweet life with that transfer. If we give her too much attention, she’ll start getting arrogant again.] [Liam: Fine, fine. I’ll be the one to talk to her in the main chat.] [Mia: Thanks, big bro.] [Chloe: Thanks, big bro.] … I didn’t even finish reading before handing the phone back to him. “So, showing me this… what exactly are you trying to achieve?” Ryan was taken aback for a second, then quickly explained: “I just think it’s wrong for them to deceive you like this, and even worse to mock you behind your back. You’re a member of the Sterling family too; you deserve the same love as the rest of them.” I squeezed my boba cup, letting out a soft laugh: “Ryan, you knew showing me this would make me sad. Why didn’t you just keep it a secret?” “Even if you never told me, it wouldn’t have mattered, right?” “Why are you telling me now?” I turned to look at the stunned, handsome boy beside me. “Just like before my college entrance exams, when my brother got into that car accident and injured his eyes. He intentionally hid it from me because he was terrified it would ruin my focus for the exams.” “But you just ‘coincidentally’ insisted I accompany you to the hospital for a check-up the day before my exams, and we just ‘coincidentally’ ran into Uncle and Auntie Miller there.” “You wanted to see me in pain. You wanted to see me panic. But why? Aren’t you supposed to be my friend?” Ryan’s expression became incredibly complex. “Maya…” “Haha, why do you look so serious?” I suddenly burst out laughing. “I’m just joking! You didn’t actually take me seriously, did you? You are my one and only friend in this city. Why would I ever doubt you? Right?” Ryan opened his mouth in a daze, but eventually managed to force a warm, gentle smile. “Right. I am your one and only friend.” 7 Ryan didn’t know. I had actually, genuinely fallen for him once. The day after I moved back into the Sterling mansion, I was supposed to report to my new elite high school. My mom told me to ride with my sisters. But Chloe refused to let me in the car. “No way! She smells like fish! Snowball hates the smell of fish.” She let her massive Doberman hog more than half the backseat, declaring self-righteously: “Besides, there’s no room left in the car anyway.” Mia and my mom took the front seats. Not a single one of them paid any attention to my humiliation. It was Ryan who drove up and invited me to ride in his family’s car to school. He even comforted me, saying, “Love from others is just icing on the cake. If you don’t have it, don’t force it. Loving yourself is what’s most important.” I wrote that quote on the very first page of my diary. After that, he insisted I ride with him to and from school every day. I felt bad constantly inconveniencing him, so I bought myself a cheap bicycle. When he saw it, he went out and bought a bicycle too, becoming my daily riding partner. He was willing to listen to my problems, offered me advice, and even confronted the classmates who were bullying me. He took me hiking, took me to see the ocean, and told me that my future was as boundless as my vision. I felt so incredibly lucky to have met someone so wonderful during my darkest, loneliest days. I was completely, blissfully ignorant. Until the winter break of my sophomore year. Because my final exam scores were dramatically higher than everyone else’s, the teachers praised me as a “genius.” I naïvely thought my parents would be proud to hear this. But my dad never cared about my grades. When my mom found out, her face darkened, and she made a snide, sarcastic remark: “Oh. I guess that Miller guy actually knows how to teach.” Without a second thought, she transferred me to a notoriously rough, underfunded public high school. It was from that moment I realized: I was not allowed to be better than Mia or Chloe. I had to be painfully average just to survive in that house. So, I started intentionally bombing my tests. I had to score higher than Chloe, but not so high that I threatened Mia’s status or embarrassed the Sterling family. It was a deeply exhausting, soul-crushing psychological balancing act. There was one time I truly couldn’t handle the pressure anymore. I decided to tell Ryan my secret. I called to ask him to meet up, but he apologized, saying he was busy and couldn’t get away. I decided to wait until he was free to tell him. I wandered aimlessly through the neighborhood park. And that’s where I overheard his conversation with Mia: “Maya’s scores plummeted this semester. I have a feeling she’s doing it on purpose. Did she tell you any insider info?” “No. I think it’s pretty normal. After all, her new public school doesn’t have great teachers.” “I’m still not convinced. Keep an eye on her for me. Don’t let her have too much time to study. If necessary, arrange for some people to cause trouble for her.” “Understood.” “And listen to me—if you dare catch real feelings for her while playing this game, I will make sure you never see me again.” “Mia, even if you don’t trust me, you should trust yourself. Maya… she isn’t worth a thousandth of you.” I hid behind a tree, watching them embrace and kiss. The blue sky, the setting sun, the handsome boy, the beautiful girl. What a picture-perfect scene. But in my eyes, the play had ended. The sun was dead. 8 Slurp. I tossed the empty boba cup into the trash can. “It’s getting late. We should head back.” Ryan suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Maya, about your brother Leo… do you need me to help you contact a top specialist?” My fingertips trembled slightly. I forced out a bitter, resigned smile. “It’s no use.” “When Leo was first injured, Dr. Evans at the city hospital said he had an eighty percent chance of saving his eye.” “But just as he was about to go into surgery, some psycho burst into the hospital and slashed Dr. Evans’s hands.” “The backup surgeon they brought in at the last minute… directly removed Leo’s eyeball.” “Ryan, it seems like anyone who gets close to me ends up ruined. You should really stay away from me.” I shook off his hand and rode off on my bike without looking back. When I got home, everyone except my dad was in the living room. They were gathered around, excitedly discussing something. As soon as I walked in, the laughter and chatter abruptly stopped. Liam rubbed his nose, looking slightly awkward. “Uh, Maya, do you have a passport?” Chloe didn’t give me a chance to answer. She gleefully answered for me: “Stupid! She grew up in a tiny fishing village, of course she doesn’t have one! And she probably didn’t think to get one after she came back, right?” She glared at me, her eyes flashing with a silent threat. I lowered my head. “Yeah, I don’t have one.” Mia frowned. “Ah, that’s such a shame. Liam just got a reality travel show, and they want him to bring his family. Since you don’t have a passport, you can’t go.” I kept my hands clasped tightly. “It’s fine. You guys go have fun. I’ll stay here and watch the house.” Chloe burst into harsh laughter. “Then you’ll be in the exact same social class as my dog, Snowball!” She patted the Doberman’s head. “Snowball, be polite to your second sister from now on. Don’t bite her again, understand?” The Doberman bared its sharp teeth, staring at me viciously. I shrank back, pretending to be terrified. “Chloe!” Liam glared at her, then turned to me with a fawning expression. “Don’t listen to her. She’s young and doesn’t know what she’s saying.” I shook my head, signaling that I didn’t mind. My mom smiled and comforted me: “Since you can’t go this time, there’s always a next time. Go apply for a passport first. When we get back, we’ll pick a nice place and take you with us.” I nodded obediently. “Okay. You guys keep planning. I’m going to my room.” “Maya…” Liam tried to follow me. Chloe violently yanked him back to their circle. Within moments, they were back to their passionate discussion. Photos Chloe was uploading constantly popped up in the family group chat. [Chloe: @Maya, Second sister, here are some pics from the internet so you can at least look at the view, hehe (Smile) (Smile) (Smile).] She sent three smiley faces in a row. I replied cooperatively: [Wow, I’m so jealous.] Chloe responded with a meme of a Doberman baring its fangs. I stared at those sharp, white teeth and slowly curled my lips into a smile. 9 After dinner, Chloe put on a full face of dramatic makeup and took Snowball out to party. Mia went to her high-end yoga class. Liam had a late-night recording session at the TV studio. My mom was out playing bridge with the other wealthy socialites. My dad was at a business dinner, undoubtedly bragging about his wealth. I hid in my room, quietly reading a book. 10:00 PM. My phone started ringing loudly. [Maya, get to the city hospital right now! Chloe’s been in a terrible accident!] Liam’s voice was frantic and breathless. He sounded like he was sprinting. I pinched my thigh hard to fake a panicked tone. “What happened?” [Her dog suddenly went rabid… it ripped her eyes out…] [Ah, just don’t ask! Get here as fast as you can! You guys have the same blood type, and she needs a massive transfusion right now!] I said, my voice trembling, “Okay, I’m on my way.” I hung up the phone, leaned back in my chair, and let out a long, deep sigh of relief. Everything was going exactly according to plan. My book was only half-read. I picked up my pen and drew a thick red line under a specific sentence: All things in the universe operate in cycles; every cause has its effect, and every debt must be paid.

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I had been Adrian Vance’s executive assistant for three years when he got engaged. His fiancée made him fire all his female staff who worked in close proximity to him. I was on that list. As compensation, Adrian offered to set me up with his older brother. “He’s richer than me, better at everything that matters, and he just has one kid,” Adrian told me. “If you don’t mind a ready-made family, want me to set it up?” I didn’t mind. Because I was the one who gave birth to that kid. 01 Julian Sterling and I had a past. It was a secret. Adrian had no idea. If he did, he wouldn’t be so clueless as to treat me like his personal errand girl. I was twenty-two when I was with Julian. Fresh out of college, green, and clumsy. I met him at one of Sterling Group’s port facilities. I thought he was just another struggling job seeker like me, fresh out of a failed interview. He looked a mess that day. Suit rumpled, face smudged with dust. He was sitting on a curb, eating a cheap takeout box. A thick stack of documents was sitting next to him. He looked completely down on his luck. I had just been rejected for a position and was running on pure emotional impulse. I had bought two massive, double-meat pork belly bowls from a food truck, and I handed him one. “Here, eat this,” I said. “Yours looks too pathetic. It won’t fill you up.” His box was mostly just rice and withered greens. I sat down five feet away from him, feeling sorry for myself. I was busy fantasizing about how miserable my life would be if I didn’t find a job soon. Would I end up sitting on a curb, getting fed by strangers? I was so lost in my pity party that I missed Julian’s expression. It went from bewildered to incredulous, and finally, to genuinely amused. Over that lunch, we briefly talked about our “struggles.” We exchanged names. It was the beginning of a massive mistake. I had assumed his background was as ordinary as mine. And Julian was perfectly happy to play the role of an ordinary guy. I started running into him everywhere after that. Every time, it felt like a coincidence. Even when he asked me out, I thought it was fate. Until the cliché, melodramatic plot twist happened. I was at a high-end luxury mall, picking out a corporate gift for a major client on behalf of my boss. I saw Julian. He was dropping thousands without blinking. Hands casually in his pockets. Shoulders leaning back with lazy arrogance. Tapping his foot. He looked impatient, but he was still forcing himself to play along, offering opinions to the girl next to him. When she finally picked a style she liked, he gave a relieved wave to the clerk to put it on his tab. Only the night before, he had been wrapped around me in my tiny rented apartment, asking me to give him a head rub. Listening to me complain about Adrian’s demands and work stress. I thought about it for a long time. I weighed my options: continue the charade of our relationship, or demand a massive payoff to disappear. I didn’t choose either. I chose the stupidest option. I confronted him, and I didn’t ask for a dime. He wasn’t surprised. He admitted who he was, cleanly and efficiently. Then he opened his mouth and said he wanted to take me home to meet his family. To his estate. That place was worth more than I could earn in fifty lifetimes. I saw tons of files in his study. As it turned out, he took his role as the Sterling heir very seriously. That day we met at the port, he wasn’t looking for a job. He was inspecting a Sterling key project that was having major issues. In the blistering summer heat, he had gone to the site with a team of engineers, blueprints in hand. He was there to personally diagnose the problem. Change plans, coordinate resources. A recording secretary had written that thick stack of “documents”—meeting minutes. Nobody expected the CEO to actually show up on the dusty ground. So, nobody had arranged a fancy lunch for him. When lunchtime hit, he just grabbed the minutes, sat on the curb, and reviewed them while eating a generic lunchbox, waiting for a final report from a subordinate. And that’s when I ran into him. I could have kicked myself for being so blind. How did I not notice the price tag on his watch, or how perfectly tailored his suit was? He asked me if we absolutely had to break up. He said loving someone was all the same; the most important things were shared interests and assets. I was twenty-four, far too young. Young enough to believe that love couldn’t tolerate a grain of sand, let alone a lie that big. “It’s not the same,” I told him. “We are not the same.” I didn’t cry, and I didn’t make a grand exit. I got in a cab and left, feeling as numb as someone who had just been laid off. But life never goes as planned. Only a month later, I realized just how important money was. A month later, my period didn’t show up. I was pregnant. And my company was doing a massive round of layoffs, targeting pregnant women specifically. The boss made it clear: Pay them the severance and get them out. Let those pregnant women go home and tend to their babies. If this kept up, he wouldn’t be hiring women anymore. Before my belly started to show, I immediately pledged my undying loyalty to the company. I promised I wouldn’t let my “health issues” affect the project. Then, I requested three days off for the procedure. The boss was satisfied and held me up as a model employee. Looking in the mirror, I felt like a corporate slave, not a human being. My colleagues whispered behind my back, and I had no defense. I scheduled the abortion and went to the hospital. But I was stopped in the parking lot by Julian’s security team. Julian was out of the country. He took a private jet back that night, landing in six hours. He told me to keep the baby. The terms he offered were generous. I agreed. To prevent developing a maternal bond, I never looked at the baby girl once after she was born. Julian took her away and named her Cora. Cora, the maiden. A precious pearl. I figured Julian must love her. Which meant I didn’t need to worry about her. I left Seattle and moved south to Atlanta. 02 Turns out, I couldn’t escape the Sterling family. Julian’s younger brother, Adrian, was running the southern branch of the company. I was mass-applying for jobs. I didn’t even realize I had applied to be Adrian Sterling’s assistant. The interview process was suspiciously smooth. Before I knew it, I was Adrian Vance’s executive assistant. I was responsible for scheduling and day-to-day logistics. Occasionally getting him coffee. When the chief of staff was away, I would handle heavy-hitter clients. For the most part, I didn’t have to travel with him. Overall, the work was administrative but not too grueling. The pay was excellent. Combined with the money Julian had given me, I had already bought a nice condo. With this job, I could have had a stable, peaceful life. But that was shattered by Adrian’s fiancée. “Elena? Elena?” Adrian tapped his desk. “Surely it doesn’t take this long to think about it. Why the hesitation? You don’t like the sound of him?” He was smiling, but there was a hint of irritation in his voice. I finished organizing his schedule and pushed the planner toward him. “From eleven to eleven-thirty, you have a briefing. At noon, you have lunch with Junior Li. His family just had some good news, so I’ve prepared a gift for you to take. From two to four PM,靳Mr. Jin wants to golf, but Mr. Kent wants to go riding at the same time. Schedules conflict; you need to decide which to cancel. At five, a client tour of the R&D center, then signing the contract, followed by dinner at the Estate. The menu is set—Cantonese style. It is currently ten-forty-three. Junior Li mentioned several VPs want to brief you early, so you can talk to them now.” I paused for a few seconds, then spoke again. “As for the blind date with your brother, I’m going to have to pass.” Adrian leaned back in his executive chair. He tapped his foot, spinning the chair slightly. He stared at me for a long moment, looking thoughtful. “Hmm.” He had a half-smile on his face. “Elena, are you hiding something from me?” I said, “I know your brother.” To say we “dated” felt too heavy. No family or friends knew; it didn’t feel like a real relationship. “Oh, you know him?” He nodded. His foot suddenly stopped tapping. He studied my expression, took a breath, and spoke with certainty. “No way. No way. You were with my brother, weren’t you?” Even though I was used to the casual contempt of the upper class. Hearing him use the phrase “were with” still stung. I managed to say, “Yes.” He immediately jumped up, smiling as he ushered me over to the sofa. He was suddenly all attention, even pouring me a cup of tea. “Come on, you have to know who gave birth to his daughter, right?” “None of us brothers could ever get it out of him.” “He hates kids, so he must have really loved that woman to keep the baby.” “Since you guys were together, spill. Who was the one he spoiled the most?” Who was it? Was it that girl he was willing to take shopping? Or maybe, that was just another woman in his life. I tightened my lips. “I don’t know who he liked the most, but it wasn’t me.” Adrian let out a laugh. “A lot of resentment there, huh? My brother shouldn’t be stingy, though.” “Maybe he is stingy with some people. When I was with him, I lived in a crappy rented apartment.” Adrian’s expression froze for a few seconds. His jaw literally dropped in disbelief. “You lived where?” He repeated. “You lived in a crappy rented apartment? He let you live in a place like that?” I gave a silent, bitter smile. “Not really. I rented it myself. He didn’t live with me.” “Holy shit. He wouldn’t even cover your rent? That’s low.” Adrian smoothed his jacket, got up, and started pacing. He kept glancing at me. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the romantic type, Elena… with your looks, asking for a condo wouldn’t have been too much. Why didn’t you think to take him for all he was worth?” He was appraising me, calculating my value. If this had been the old me, I would have cursed him out. I adjusted my expression, lowering my posture. “I was young and naive.” I cracked a weak joke. “Considering that, maybe increase my severance package a bit?” There was a knock on the door. An employee poked their head in. “Mr. Sterling, the meeting is starting.” Adrian nodded, adjusting his collar. I stepped forward quickly to hold the door for him. He grabbed his folder, ignoring me as he walked past. “You’re not being fired. Go back to work.” 03 Too bad. I was hoping to cash out and leave. Now I’d have to resign. Adrian’s fiancée was quite famous around the office lately. Word was she was the granddaughter of a very prominent DC politician, and her parents were loaded, too. She had a serious pedigree, and a serious temper to match. After the engagement, she demanded Adrian fire all his close female staffers. Adrian had two chief secretaries. One male, one female—his right-hand people. The female chief was highly capable, so Adrian protected her job. But someone like me, the base-level executive assistant, wasn’t so lucky. Even if I wasn’t fired, staying wouldn’t be pretty. Who knew when the wife would start suspecting me. I went back to my office. I ran into colleagues from other departments coming to the assistant’s pool for stamps. When they saw me return, they all shot me sympathetic looks. “Elena, when are you leaving? Let’s get dinner before you go.” I pulled out my chair and slumped over my desk. “Earliest next month. The HR process takes time.” “HR process? For a firing, you don’t need to wait, do you?” “I’m resigning,” I said. “Mr. Sterling doesn’t plan on firing me. Does anyone have a resignation letter template I can borrow?” Thank you for the opportunity to grow with the company… Due to personal reasons… I have decided to resign. I clicked ‘send’ on the resignation email. I pushed back from my keyboard and exhaled deeply. Then I remembered Adrian’s offhand comment. He must have really loved that woman to keep the baby. I didn’t know what Julian’s feelings for me actually were. Back when I worked in DC. I lived in a standard entry-level apartment complex for young professionals. It was crowded, a real mix of people. I experienced my first stalker there. And then, my first attempted break-in. I was a light sleeper that night. My phone buzzing woke me up. The peephole camera app was alerting me. Someone was loitering outside my door. The man in the video was masked, wearing a hat and gloves. I couldn’t see his face, and his bulky work clothes hid his build. He was professional and efficient at picking locks. Every now and then, he’d glance back and murmur something to an accomplice behind him. I froze in the living room for a few seconds, then instinctively ran to the kitchen for a knife. I hid back in my bedroom, staring at the camera feed, trembling as I finally called 911. Then I called Julian. His voice was raspy, heavy with sleep. “What is it?” I said, “Someone is picking my lock.” There was a dead silence on the other end for one second. Then I heard the rustle of him sitting up and grabbing clothes. He sounded completely awake now. He asked me, “How many are outside? Are they armed?” “I only saw two… I didn’t see any knives. I don’t know if they have anything on them.” His voice calmed down. “Don’t cry. Get in your room and lock the door.” The camera feed suddenly went black. The front door clicked open. Footsteps entered the living room, getting closer. The thief started pushing against the bedroom door. I gripped the knife, wondering if I should rush out and attack first. The adrenaline made it hard to stand. I was gripping the handle so hard my hand felt numb, like I wouldn’t be able to swing it. Suddenly, things got chaotic outside the door. A few muffled thuds. Cursing mixed with screams of pain. The sound of shattering glass, things hitting the floor. Crashes. “Julian?” “It’s me,” he said, his voice muffled and slightly winded. “Don’t come out yet. It’ll just be a minute.” I was wiping sweat off my face. My legs gave out, and I slumped onto the edge of the bed. Until there was a knock on the door. I dragged the heavy furniture I used to block the door away. The living room was a wreck. The thieves were barely alive on the floor. Someone was dragging one of them by the ankle, like a dead animal, out of the apartment. Julian wiped blood off his knuckles and pulled me close. His overcoat was freezing, but a warm scent of rich tobacco radiated from his skin, warmed by his body. He held me very tightly. He looked down and kissed the top of my head. The men with Julian coughed politely. “Mr. Sterling… what do we do with them?” “Check if they have priors. Send them away for a long time.” Julian was running his hand over the back of my head, his voice calm. Buried in his shoulder, I murmured. “Are they your friends? It’s so late… I should treat them to dinner sometime.” “It’s fine,” he said. “Go rest. I’m staying with you tonight.” The police arrived. Julian lit a cigarette, ushering me back to the bedroom. The low murmur of conversation didn’t last long. He climbed into bed, pulling me securely into his arms from behind. I was still shaking. “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “It won’t happen again.” I turned around, kissing him frantically. Julian froze for a moment. He was usually very direct in bed. I was used to him unbuckling his belt, pressing the back of my neck, and getting straight to it. That night, he was surprisingly gentle. He just caught my hands and wrapped them around his neck. He rolled on top of me, kissing me back. The late autumn wind was howling outside. His body was burning hot. When he cupped my face with his palms, I truly felt loved. But past events are like sugarcane pulp that’s been chewed too many times. Back at the Sterling estate, talking about “interests,” I realized I couldn’t delude myself with that tiny bit of sweetness anymore. He loved me the way one loves a pretty pet. He might not be paying attention to it, but he wouldn’t let anyone else touch it. That was all. Work was done. It was Friday. My resignation email had been sent. Earliest I’d get a reply would be Monday. I packed up my desk, slowly erasing my presence. I didn’t expect it. Julian called me on Sunday night. He must have just gotten off a plane; the background noise was a bit loud. “Elena, what’s the ‘personal reasons’ you cited in your resignation?” “Mr. Sterling, I’m twenty-nine. It’s time I started a family.” He was silent for a few seconds. “You’re not quitting just because you’re afraid I’ll set you up with my brother, are you? Don’t overthink it.” “No,” I said. “I found a good match on a dating app. I was planning to quit around this time anyway.” “What’s his background?” “Ordinary. Professor at a local college.” “I see. Fine. Work hard for the next thirty days. I’ll give you a bonus as a wedding gift.” “Thank you, Mr. Sterling.” “One more thing.” He said. “Pick out some gifts that a little girl would like. Next Friday, you’re coming with me to DC.” A little girl. I was stunned for a moment. “…Yes, Mr. Sterling.”

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Five years in Hollywood and I was still a nobody. My only option was to go home and agree to an arranged marriage with a man I’d never met. My fiancé apparently hated me. He didn’t even show up to our engagement dinner. Instead, he called me to lay down three ground rules. “Hello. I already have someone I love. You don’t need to waste your time on me.” “You are free to date whoever you want. I won’t interfere.” “This marriage is purely a business transaction. We will divorce in exactly one year. Prepare yourself mentally, and don’t come crying to me when it’s time to sign the papers.” He rattled off his demands and hung up immediately. Meanwhile, I stood at the door of his home office, lost in thought. The entire room was filled to the brim with my merchandise. 1 I changed my name and braved Hollywood for five years. Despite agencies throwing all sorts of resources my way, I just never managed to break through. I was the definition of a C-list actress. So, I had no choice but to bow my head to my parents and fulfill my end of the bargain: an arranged marriage to secure our family’s business interests. My fiancé was Carter Sterling, the cold, quiet, and ruthlessly efficient CEO of the Sterling Group. According to my friends in high society, Carter had a face so sinfully attractive he could be considered a modern-day incubus. It was easy for people to let their guard down around him, thinking he was a refined and easygoing guy. But in reality, the true Carter was cold-blooded, harsh, emotionally detached, and cared only about the bottom line. By the time my friend finished describing him, her tone had grown entirely sympathetic. “Chloe, everyone feels so sorry for you.” “Having to marry a cold-blooded monster like that.” “Who knows what kind of miserable life you’ll have to endure.” I gripped my phone tightly. After a long silence, I could only let out a helpless, bitter laugh. After hanging up, I opened my social media management app. I hit publish on the retirement statement that had been sitting in my drafts for months. 2 Even though I was practically a nobody, I still had a few die-hard fans. The moment my retirement statement went live, those familiar usernames flooded my DMs. Among the dense sea of messages, one user named “Q” stood out. I couldn’t be more familiar with this person. For the past five years, every time I posted an update, he was always the first to like and comment. He was my ultimate superfan. And because he clearly used top-tier camera equipment, every photo he took of me at public events was a high-definition masterpiece. He poured massive amounts of money into supporting me—buying billboards, organizing fan projects—so the rest of my fandom affectionately called him “Bro Q.” Clicking into his profile, his pinned post was a mega-compilation of my best video clips, along with a video of him doing a TikTok dance trend I had started. Although he never showed his face, every movement was earnest, revealing a slight, endearing clumsiness. But what made me remember him most were his comments. No flowery praise, no over-the-top confessions of love. Just one simple, almost stubborn sentence every single time: “I hope you are happy every day.” But today, he broke his usual pattern. A massive wall of text filled the chat box. He wrote about how he stumbled upon my videos during the darkest days of his life. He wrote about how a random, lighthearted comment I made helped him survive a night of terrible insomnia. He wrote about how his fingers trembled with excitement every time he saw I had updated. Finally, as if using up all his strength, he spoke with restrained yet profound sincerity: “I’m sorry, this might be a bit forward of me.” “But I still want to tell you… to me, you are a ray of light, a lifeline. You are the motivation that keeps me going.” “Knowing you these past five years has made me so incredibly happy every single day.” “Chloe, you are as important to me as my own life.” I stared at the screen, noticing several typos in a row. He must have been typing frantically, his fingers trembling so much that he couldn’t even press the keys properly as he broke down. After reading his heartfelt essay, my eyes welled up with tears. I took a moment to reply very earnestly. “Thank you for your support and love over the past five years. I hope you are happy every day too. If fate allows, we’ll meet again.” 3 After replying to all my private messages one by one, I took a deep breath, suppressed my reluctance, and prepared to deactivate my account. But suddenly, my fiancé’s name caught my eye. He was trending at #1 on X— #CarterSterlingCryingInCar Curious, I clicked on the hashtag, and a ten-second video auto-played. The dim yellow light of a streetlamp illuminated Carter’s sharp, sculpted profile. His long eyelashes were lowered, his shoulders trembling slightly, and the tear tracks on his face were clearly visible. He radiated a sense of brokenness, as if he were on the verge of despair. The replies were going crazy. “Oh my god, the Devil of Wall Street is actually crying? Did the sun rise in the west today…” “Lmao, with those pathetic noises, I thought his Maybach was haunted.” “Scary, scary. Whatever demon possessed our CEO Sterling, please get out of his body quickly…” “So what exactly could make this cold-blooded demon king shed tears?” That comment sparked a wave of speculation about why Carter was crying. Some said he was in agony over being forced into an arranged marriage. Others said the stress of running a billion-dollar empire had finally broken him. But whatever the reason, I couldn’t care less. I skimmed the comments absentmindedly and went back to coordinating my post-retirement affairs with my agent. 4 At 2:00 AM, I dragged my exhausted body home. As soon as I opened my phone, I saw that the man who had been trending all afternoon was now in my friend requests. The verification message was just two simple words: “Carter Sterling.” I hesitated for a second before clicking on his profile. His profile picture was pitch black. His bio was completely blank. His display name was just the letter “C.” Everything about his profile screamed, Stay away from me. I rubbed my throbbing temples and helplessly hit ‘Accept.’ Carter immediately sent a voice memo. His tone was freezing cold and distant. He sounded like a man dealing with a nuisance he couldn’t shake off, barely maintaining basic politeness and breeding: [Miss Vance. Hello. I am your fiancé, Carter Sterling.] I wasn’t used to sending voice memos, so I typed back: [Hello.] Carter had no intention of making small talk. He cut straight to the chase: [I already have someone I love. She is the only person I will ever love in this lifetime. Therefore, you do not need to waste your time on me after we are married.] [Our marriage is simply a transaction. I don’t mind an open marriage. You are free to find whoever you like, and I won’t interfere. Similarly, you are not to interfere in my affairs.] [Miss Vance, your father mentioned that you have a first love who currently lives out of state. I happen to travel out of state frequently for business. I wouldn’t mind bringing you along to create opportunities for you two to meet.] I was stunned. I asked in disbelief: [Are you saying you’d cover for me so I can go see my ex?] Carter: [Yes. That is exactly what I mean.] [After all, I don’t want you clinging to me. It’s best if you have someone you like. It will give me peace of mind.] […] For a moment, I didn’t know what to say: [Keep going. What else?] Carter: [Also, I want you to remember at all times that our marriage will only last for one year.] [After one year, we will get a divorce. When the time comes, do not cry and make a scene, refusing to sign the papers. It will be very embarrassing for both our families.] Me: [Okay, don’t worry about that. I won’t.] Hearing my guarantee, Carter visibly let out a sigh of relief: [Good. Miss Vance.] [I assume we don’t need to hold a wedding ceremony either. And naturally, we will not be fulfilling any marital obligations in the bedroom.] [There’s no need to make our marriage public. I don’t want too many people knowing about it. It’s better for both of us.] I didn’t have any objections to that either, so I agreed. After listing off his demands, Carter went silent for a very long time, probably worrying he had forgotten something. After a full fifteen minutes, he finally confirmed everything and sent one last message. [That will be all for now.] [Apologies, Miss Vance, but you know I am a businessman. Businessmen do not trust verbal agreements.] [Therefore, to prevent you from backing out someday in the future, I would like to draft a prenuptial agreement for both of us to sign. Is that acceptable?] [The contract will cover asset division, as well as all the terms we just discussed.] [For example, the marriage lasting only one year, the lack of marital obligations, me covering for you to see your ex, etc.] [Miss Vance, does that work for you?] Of course, I had no objections: [Yes, Mr. Sterling. Draft the contract and send it to me.] Carter was satisfied: [I will have it drafted and sent to you first thing tomorrow morning.] I thought about it and asked: [By the way, Mr. Sterling, should we meet at least once before we get our marriage license?] Carter rejected the idea outright: [There is absolutely no need for that. It’s a waste of time, and we have nothing to discuss anyway. We will see each other at City Hall in three days.] That worked perfectly for me. I nodded repeatedly: [Sounds good. See you then.] 5 Carter was so worried I would back out that he drafted the contract with terrifying efficiency. He emailed me the digital copy by 4:00 PM. But what shocked me even more was that at 6:00 AM the next day, he personally delivered a massive stack of the physical contract to my house. While he and my dad were exchanging pleasantries in the living room, my mom dragged me out of bed and shoved me into the bathroom to wash up. With a toothbrush hanging out of my mouth, I hid at the corner of the second-floor stairs, observing Carter in the living room. He looked exactly as my friend had described over the phone. Carter sat upright on the leather sofa, his long legs crossed. A perfectly tailored, pitch-black suit accentuated his incredible physique. Even in such an ordinary posture, his obscenely perfect bone structure and handsome face gave off an aura of repressed, untouchable sex appeal. No wonder my dad said Carter was hand-picked—the absolute best of the best, the perfect candidate for this arranged marriage. However, at a glance, I immediately noticed the pink hair tie peeking out from under his cuff. Pink was my official fandom color. Because of that, my eyes naturally gravitated toward pink amidst any cluster of colors. But still, a top-tier CEO with a face like that, wearing a little pink hair tie on his wrist? Kind of amusing, actually. 6 While chatting with Carter, my dad kept shooting subtle glances in my direction. But Carter was like a monk in deep meditation. His eyelashes didn’t even flutter. He just watched my dad’s performance with a blank expression. He was using his actions to prove to me: he had zero interest in his fiancée, a woman he had never met who had suddenly dropped into his life. My dad gritted his teeth and finally laid his cards on the table: “Carter, why don’t you stay for breakfast? Chloe is home, you two can meet and get to know each other.” “That won’t be necessary.” Carter’s voice was deep and magnetic, carrying a cold, distant edge. “Mr. Vance, there’s no need for us to meet. After all, we’ll be forced to spend plenty of time together in the future. It’ll be hard not to see each other, won’t it?” My dad tried to say something else, but Carter cut him off coldly: “Alright, Mr. Vance. I’ll take my leave now.” With that, he turned and walked right out the door. The exact moment I finished getting ready and stepped into the living room. Carter stepped out. And casually pulled the front door shut behind him. He didn’t look up in my direction once the entire time. He might as well have tattooed “Not Interested” on the back of his head. 7 The second Carter stepped out of my house. I received a text from him. [Miss Vance, I have handed the sealed contract to your father. You may sign it after reviewing it. Once you’ve signed, I’ll send my assistant to pick it up.] I carefully read through the contract. Aside from everything we negotiated last night, there was a clear line at the very end of the document— All profits generated by our marriage alliance would be split 40/60. He would take 40%, and I would get 60%. Furthermore, once our marriage ended, I would receive a massive lump sum payout. Adding it all up, it was no small amount. It was enough to ensure I’d be set for the rest of my life. I counted the zeros. And read through the contract one more time. The resistance I initially felt toward this arranged marriage morphed into the anxiety of holding a massive fortune. I nervously texted him: [By the way, Mr. Sterling, there don’t seem to be any clauses in the contract regarding you and the person you love.] [Did you forget?] I was genuinely asking. But Carter’s reply was full of defensiveness and impatience. [Miss Vance, there’s no need to test me.] [I am well aware that women are at a disadvantage in a marriage. Therefore, for the duration of our marriage, I will not do anything that would make you a laughingstock to the public.] I paused for a moment. Even through the screen. I could perfectly picture Carter right now, frowning at his phone. His harsh mouth muttering, “How dare this woman try to manage my affairs,” out of one side. While adjusting his tone to reply to me out of the other. [And I certainly wouldn’t reduce her to being the “other woman,” not even in name only.] At this point, Carter paused. Probably because bringing up the person he loved naturally softened his tone. [I will wait until our marriage is completely finalized and terminated before I earnestly pursue her, confess to her, and be with her.] [Of course, all of this is contingent on her not finding me repulsive and not having someone else she likes.] Well, what do you know. This domineering CEO was actually quite the hopeless romantic. After Carter finished, he seemed to ponder for a moment before adding. [By the way, send me your social security number.] I was instantly on guard: [What for?] Carter: [The day after we get our marriage license, I’m going out of state for a business trip. The destination happens to be the city where your ex lives. Don’t you want to see him?] [I’ll buy your ticket while I’m at it. I’ll cover for you like the contract says. We’ll just tell our families we’re going on a honeymoon.] I hesitated. My finger hovered over the screen, unable to press send. When Carter didn’t get a reply. He began to coax me with the utmost patience. [Miss Vance, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.] [It might not work out this perfectly next time. You need to think carefully.] [If you miss this chance, who knows when you’ll be able to see him again.] I was still hesitating. After all, when we broke up years ago. I had completely blocked that man on every single platform. Carter: [I heard from your father that your breakup wasn’t exactly amicable.] [I have a friend who’s a relationship guru. He specializes in reconciling couples who had bad breakups.] [I’ll bring him along. When the time comes, he’ll definitely be able to help you two get back together.] His relentless persuasion started to sway me. I figured I could just treat it as a vacation. In the end, I sent him my ID information. [Well… alright then. Sorry for the trouble, and thank you.] [You’re very welcome.] Carter’s mood instantly brightened. Even his attitude toward me improved slightly. Yeah, just like he said, he was genuinely terrified I would cling to him.

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In the year I could barely feed myself, I picked up a battered, brilliant, and destitute boy from a filthy alleyway. His eyes were hollow. “Do whatever you want with me. I don’t care.” I didn’t do anything. I just wiped the grime off him and helped him into a crisp, dry white shirt. Stuttering, I told him earnestly, “L-live. Live well.” Years later, he got into the best university on his own and became the youngest tenured professor they’d ever had. On a typical summer night when I went to pick him up, he coldly rejected the bright, sunny girl who adored him. And for the first time, I heard him ask, his voice tight and lost: “Why don’t you like it?” I saw the expensive brooch she had given him clutched in his hand. That was when I knew I had to leave. 01 When I finished packing my bags to leave, I looked back at the cramped apartment I had lived in for years. It was narrow and suffocatingly hot. The only good thing about it was the single potted cactus on the windowsill. I bent down and straightened Holden’s slippers on the top tier of the shoe rack. Bang. The heavy metal door clicked shut, stirring up a thin layer of dust in the sunlight. 02 Before Holden left for his academic seminar, he showed me a property deed at the dining table. It was a brand-new, beautiful luxury condo right in the heart of downtown. I had no idea how long he had been saving up to buy it. He said, “I’ll pay you back, little by little.” “N-no need. To pay it back.” When I saved him, I never expected anything in return. He said coldly, “Once it’s paid, we’re even.” I silently pushed a plate of sautéed shrimp and a cold salad toward him. Holden kept his head down as he ate, but the sharp, superior lines of his profile were as striking as ever. Looking at him now, I could still catch glimpses of the teenage boy who used to stand at the debate podium, his lean, aloof silhouette cutting through the breeze. Liking someone doesn’t mean they have to know about it. There’s no rule that says every sacrifice requires a reward. From now on, he would be exactly as I had always imagined—radiant, successful, and entirely out of reach. Just having spent these years with him was enough for me. I rested my chin quietly in my hand, looking at him earnestly, and suddenly blurted out something completely unprompted: “Holden. From now on, you have to l-live well.” It’s just a pity my stutter never went away. I just hope that when I go back to my rural hometown for blind dates, the guys won’t find me too repulsive. 03 I thought back to that night. “Professor! Wait for me!” A beautiful, carefree girl waved as she ran toward him. She had been chasing Holden relentlessly for six months. I stood quietly in the shadows beneath a tree by the entrance. Just as I admired Holden, I envied her. She expressed her love boldly, like a little sun. She had a flawless, wealthy family background and a vibrant, outgoing personality. Standing together, they looked like a match made in heaven. At first, Holden had been cold and impatient, avoiding her like the plague—exactly how he treated me. But later, his defenses began to crack. She was the only one he lowered his boundaries for, allowing her to laugh and playfully touch his arm. Eventually, holding a gift she had forced into his hands, he asked me nervously: “What does it mean to like someone?” I walked beside him into the moonlight, looking down as his tall shadow overlapped and swallowed mine. What did I answer back then? I stuttered, but I was deadly serious: “To like someone probably means… when you s-see him, your heart races. And when you t-think of him, the corners of your mouth… go up.” — “So you’re the one who saved Holden? You’re such a bitch! You like him? Then we’ll let you like him all you want!” The same thugs who had brutally beaten Holden shoved my head violently into a filthy mop bucket in the school bathroom. “Liking someone makes you anxious… and overly sensitive.” — “Holden! I’m taking you to the E-ER! Don’t you dare fall asleep! You still have to r-repay me!” In the dead of winter, I screamed until my throat tore, carrying him on my back as he bled out from his slit wrists, stumbling blindly toward the hospital. “Liking someone means caring about them… wanting to share every word, every moment with them, f-first.” — “I worked five jobs and made a hundred and twenty bucks. I b-bought a cake. Happy birthday, Holden.” I stood in the entryway holding the cake box, so happy I forgot to take off my shoes, beaming at him. “Liking someone means feeling jealous, getting mad, but still feeling… s-sweet inside.” The traffic light clicked red. I looked up, and Holden happened to look right into my eyes. 04 Ding! My phone’s notification sound snapped me awake. My face felt itchy. When I touched it, my cheeks were wet with tears. The intersection of dreams and reality left me dazed for a long time before I finally unlocked my phone. It was a text from Holden. Just two words: [Home late.] Scrolling up, our chat history was incredibly sparse. Looking at it now, there really was nothing left between us. I had stuttered since childhood, so I hated speaking. And because of Holden’s personality—and what those people did to him later—he spoke even less. Usually, when we were at home, we just minded our own business in total silence. If he didn’t like me, he didn’t like me. Back then, I actually delusionally thought we could take it slow, that love would grow over time. It was time to kill that hope. Suddenly, a rapid sequence of cheerful pings chimed from my phone. [Your advice worked perfectly! He finally agreed to go to dinner with me~] [I actually thought you and he were dating. You really scared me back then.] [When the time comes, I’ll definitely bring a gift to thank you in person. Don’t worry, he absolutely won’t suffer by being with me.] She ended it with an adorable emoji swooning with happiness. Her joy was contagious; it made me curl my lips into a slight smile. I was a ghost from Holden’s past. I was the mud and the broken tiles, the witness to all his humiliation, the symbol of his darkest days. But Harper was different. She could stand tall with him. Her love was proactive and warm, and she had the resources and connections to meet him at the top of his field. Holden’s walls were crumbling. The little sun had finally melted the block of ice. I couldn’t stop him from running toward someone better than me. But the next second, a tear splattered across my screen. I belatedly raised my hand to wipe my eyes. How pathetic. I couldn’t even wipe my own tears clean. 05 After sitting on a Greyhound bus for over thirty hours, I arrived back in my rural hometown. The first thing I did was place flowers at my mother’s grave. I sat there in a daze before finally heading to the small house I had rented. The landlady told me that my deadbeat, gambling, alcoholic father had his leg broken by loan sharks and had fled town. I didn’t have much luggage. I unpacked everything in a single afternoon. Sitting on the edge of the bed and closing my eyes, I could still see Holden’s despairing, powerless eyes from back then, his body covered in sticky, vile liquid. He used to tell me calmly, “I want to die.” In a dead-end, rust-belt town, having good grades, a handsome face, and no parents was the original sin. Especially for a genius like Holden, who stood out like a sore thumb. The story was a cliché. A gang leader’s girlfriend liked him. When he rejected her, she framed him for harassment. When a group of guys cornered him in an alley, even fighting back felt like a joke. In the nights that followed, Holden’s body, curled up on the bed, would spasm and shake uncontrollably. Even his subconscious was torturing him. Back then, to support Holden through school, I worked five part-time jobs, running myself into the ground. We lived in a crappy apartment with frequent power and water outages. I ate fifty-cent pickled vegetables just to save a few dollars for him. Later, when he started getting a stipend, our lives improved a bit, but I refused to spend his money. I kept working at the diner downstairs. It seems like you’re always like that in front of someone you love. Pride dictates that, no matter what, you refuse to let yourself feel inferior. That afternoon, I found a job as a prep cook in a local diner. The pay in a small town wasn’t high, but it was enough for me. It wasn’t until after a chaotic dinner rush that I finally had time to check my phone. There were only two messages from Holden: [Where are you?] The next one was sent at 4:00 AM this morning: [You don’t want me anymore, do you?] My eyes burned reading it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him. It was that I didn’t want us to drag each other down. I saved him, and he was forced to stay by my side. That relationship dynamic was toxic to begin with. And pushing thirty, I really just wanted to settle down. Explaining all of this felt too dramatic. I typed out a lot of words, but in the end, I deleted them and just sent: [Take care of yourself.] There was no response. When I clicked his profile, I saw that Holden had posted an Instagram update. A photo of two hands, fingers intertwined. The caption was: [From now on.] It was official. Holden had a girlfriend. I stared at it for a moment, then double-tapped to like it. In my heart, I said silently: “Happy Birthday, Holden. From now on, may you and the person you love have everything you wish for.” 06 As I locked my phone and walked up to my door, my neighbor was standing in the hallway looking miserable, holding his door open to air out his apartment. A strong smell of burnt food wafted out. I recognized him. He seemed to be the new teacher who joined the local underfunded school district through Teach for America. We had briefly crossed paths when I moved in. He was polite and elegant, soft-spoken, but possessed a pair of deeply expressive, romantic eyes that didn’t quite match his mild demeanor. I felt awkward just walking past him, so as I put my key in the lock, I made polite conversation: “Haven’t eaten yet? If you want, my place…” He looked up gratefully. Before I could even finish my sentence, he said warmly, “That would be wonderful, thank you.” “…” I didn’t expect him to be so forward. I gave an awkward smile. I had no choice but to open the door and invite him in. Since I had a guest, I whipped up a few simple dishes. Carter’s reaction was incredibly exaggerated. After taking one bite, tears literally started falling from his eyes. He explained, “I’m sorry. It’s just been a very long time since I’ve had a normal, home-cooked meal. And your cooking is amazing.” “Thanks.” Thinking about the burning smell coming from his place, I ate my food in silence, just waiting for him to finish and leave. But I didn’t expect him to volunteer to wash the dishes. I frowned slightly, watching him wear my Winnie-the-Pooh apron, standing at the sink with his back to me. From the side, I could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. The veins on the back of his hands were pronounced, and his broad shoulders stretched the clearly undersized apron. “…” I looked away, subconsciously swallowing hard. Maybe the room was too quiet, because the sound was distinct. Carter paused his movements, lowered his eyes, and continued washing the dishes. When he finished, he coughed softly and finally revealed his true motive: “Could I… maybe come over to eat with you from now on?” Seeing my frown, he quickly added: “I’ll pay you more than the diner does. I just need you to cook for one extra person, and I’ll do all the dishes.” I hesitated for a moment. The landlady had mentioned him to me: “That new teacher neighbor of yours? He’s already paid out of his own pocket to rescue five stray cats and help two kids afford school supplies.” How bad could a guy like that be? Besides, being all alone in this familiar yet foreign place was becoming too hard to bear. 07 From that day on, Carter came over to my place every day after work. It evolved from bringing fresh groceries every day, to bringing his pet cat over. He smiled perfectly seriously and said, “My cat can do backflips.” Meanwhile, Holden went from total radio silence to sending me a text every few days, though they were always in the dead of night. [Where’s the hand cream?] [I can’t find that white dress shirt.] [Did you take the ceramic dog we made together?] … Things like that. At first, I patiently replied: [In the TV stand drawer. In the bottom cabinet under the coat rack. That ceramic dog broke when we moved a long time ago…] [You should move into the new condo. This apartment is too far from your university, and it’s uncomfortable. Don’t make Harper suffer with you. You’re just used to having me around. Sooner or later, you have to learn to live on your own.] He would always stay silent for a while before sending back a freezing cold voice memo: [Don’t flatter yourself.] I took care of everything for him, and he completely dismissed it. Carter asked curiously, “An old friend?” Who was he? I lowered my eyes, staring blankly at the dough on the cutting board. “Just… someone who doesn’t matter anymore.” Carter looked at the lock screen photo on my phone. It was a picture of a teenage boy and girl sitting quietly side-by-side on a swing set, both with neutral expressions. It was obviously taken by a passing stranger. They weren’t close; there was even a bit of distance between them. But Carter suddenly lost all desire to ask further. Late that night, Holden FaceTimed me directly. In the video, his face was deathly pale. He was curled tightly on the sofa, his pupils slowly losing focus as he stared at the camera. I felt like I had been hit over the head with a baseball bat. I shot up from my chair, an unspeakable terror sweeping through my entire body. The fingers holding my phone were shaking violently. “Holden! What stupid thing are you t-trying to do!” His pale lips pressed together. He struggled to lift his eyelids, only for them to fall shut heavily as he finally lost all strength. The phone spun through the air, dropping. My screen was filled with nothing but blinding, piercing red! 08 What if Holden dies… What do I do if he dies? I couldn’t stop my body from shaking. I bought the fastest bus ticket back, terrified out of my mind. Just as I finished throwing my clothes into a bag, my phone rang again. I swiped open the message frantically. It was Harper. [He’s out of danger, but he’s still unconscious.] [I thought you were with him. He took a leave of absence from the university and hasn’t eaten in five days.] [I found antidepressants on his coffee table. The doctor said he had a severe depressive relapse.] [What exactly did he go through in the past…] I couldn’t read any further. I just stared at the words “severe depressive relapse” for a long time. An indescribable agony spread from my stomach to my chest. In the end, I gripped the back of the sofa, dry-heaving in sheer physiological distress. “Mom! Please! I’ll be g-good, I’ll listen! Dad is a monster, but you still have m-me!” “I’ll take you away from here, don’t jump! Please! Mom!!!” The blaring car horns, the howling wind on the rooftop, deafening. It felt like I was back in that hospital reeking of bleach. Holden had just woken up in the hospital bed. He clenched his hands in a daze, and the exertion almost tore his stitched wrists open again. They both had severe clinical depression. It turns out people who suffer find their way to each other. I knew that tying one person’s life to another was stupid. Who would care? But I had no other choice. I looked up at him, my eyes red, and said: “Holden. Just pretend you’re l-living for me. You have to repay me. Take me to see the view from the t-top.” What the hell was I doing back then! He had an infinitely bright future ahead of him. He had finally pulled himself out of the darkness. Just as he was about to reach the peak, why should his life and brilliant career be destroyed just because of a light, passing sentence I said years ago? I couldn’t save my mom. And I couldn’t save him. My dad was right. I was a jinx. Anyone who got close to me… Was doomed to suffer. 09 Without me, with Harper there, he would pull himself out of it much faster. I canceled my bus ticket. Hugging that pile of clothes, I sat quietly on the sofa, staring blankly for the entire night. It wasn’t until Harper texted me: [He’s okay now.] I finally let out a breath. Blood rushed back to my head, and I finally felt like I was alive again. I replied casually: [That’s good.] At the same time, Holden also sent a message. [You didn’t come.] Then he unsent it, and sent a new one: [I haven’t repaid you yet. We aren’t even.] I froze, an unstoppable wave of sorrow and bitterness rising in my throat. [We are even.] He replied with a question mark. Holden really had forgotten. When my dad dragged me by the hair and beat me at the school gates, everyone watched, too scared to do anything but enjoy the spectacle. I was going through puberty at the time. Imagine the humiliation. My clothes were torn, my skin exposed. My dad cursed me out in front of my teachers and classmates, calling me a “slut,” a “waste of money,” and “cheap.” The only person who stepped up was Holden. He pulled my dad off me, draped his jacket over my shoulders, and shielded me firmly behind his back. Holden was too dazzling back then—the aloof, handsome genius. Almost every girl in school had a crush on him, competing for him openly and secretly. I held back tears, looking at his thin back. Filled with self-loathing, I lowered my head, trembling all over as I gripped his jacket tightly. When you like someone that much, you’d gladly trade your own life for theirs. He was fundamentally a good person. So a good person like him didn’t deserve to fall into the mud. I wanted to lift him up, to watch with my own eyes as the god I worshipped returned to the heavens. The moon belongs beside the sun.

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Back in college, he aggressively pursued my roommate, Chloe Evans. He used every trick in the book. Luxury gifts arrived one after another, and he even made a massive scene by delivering nine thousand roses to the courtyard of our sorority house. Everyone in our house benefited; we were carrying armfuls of roses back inside like we were clearing out a florist. Chloe was the only one who remained completely stone-faced. She even warned Liam Carter never to come looking for her again. “He’s loaded, and he’s not bad looking. Do you seriously not want him?” I asked her, a sheet mask plastered to my face. It was a question that had been baffling me for a while. She had such a gorgeous face, yet she spent every day hanging around that sketchy older guy who bounced between dead-end jobs. “I don’t. That kind of stiff, boring guy… if you want him, go ahead and chase him,” Chloe sneered dismissively. I rested my chin in my hand, thought about it for a brief moment, and nodded. “Okay. “I will.” 01 Chloe’s expression faltered, but she didn’t say anything else. After my mask was done, I washed my face and went downstairs. “She has a boyfriend.” Holding an umbrella, I looked at Liam, who was standing outside our house in the rain, staring up at our windows like a sad, devoted golden retriever. I couldn’t help but interject. He froze, pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose, and said apologetically: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Chloe seriously hadn’t told him? He lowered his head, looking completely crushed, and turned to throw the bouquet of black roses in his hand into the trash can. Standing under my umbrella, I watched the rain soak the flowers and felt it was a damn shame. Black roses. I liked them. “Wait, don’t throw them away. Give them to me.” He looked at the rain-soaked roses, let out a self-deprecating laugh, and handed them over. “Okay.” At that moment, his white dress shirt was soaked through from the rain, clinging tightly to his torso and revealing a faint outline of his abs. Clean-cut, gentlemanly, has abs, tall, and obedient. But the most important thing was: he was rich. Honestly, he was exactly my type. “Hey,” I called out to him. He turned around, looking confused. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Chase me instead.” I reached out and held my umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain. I wasn’t bad looking either. I went to bed early, woke up early, and lived a very healthy lifestyle. I jogged four miles every morning, ate a clean dinner every night, and did my skincare routine religiously. I had far more guys chasing me than Chloe did, but I had shot them all down. He took off his gold-rimmed glasses and stared at me quietly. It felt like a long time passed. Long enough for his assistant to rush over with an umbrella, long enough for his black SUV to pull up to the curb. “Okay.” 02 He took down my number and left. I turned around and went back upstairs. I had looked into Liam’s background. The moment he graduated, he started his own tech company, and it was scaling rapidly. Once he eventually went back to inherit the Carter Group, he was going to be obscenely wealthy. That was why I could never understand Chloe. Maybe it was because my parents fought constantly over money and eventually divorced, but the absolute number one requirement on my dating checklist was: he has to be rich. If you have money, you don’t have to scream at each other over the electric bill or the cost of groceries. When I walked back into our room, Chloe looked at the flowers in my hands, her face turning ugly. “You don’t have to worry anymore. He won’t bother you again,” I told her as I set the flowers down and started towel-drying my hair. I thought she would breathe a sigh of relief or look like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Instead, her expression grew even darker. “You’re a slut.” … ? She actually cursed at me. Chloe’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough to make the entire room drop into dead silence. I stopped drying my hair. The towel slipped from my hands, hitting the floor with a wet smack. I’m not the type to get physical, but in that moment, I still walked over and slapped her across the face. Neither of us were the type to lose control of our emotions, but that day, there was some deeply suppressed, intense emotion brewing in her eyes. I couldn’t read it, and I didn’t care to try. Our housemates were terrified. Some tried to mediate, some held me back, some said I went too far, and others said she was being a massive hypocrite. But I genuinely didn’t understand. She clearly said she didn’t want him. She clearly said his attention was a nuisance. So why, when I took him off her hands, did it suddenly become “stealing”? 03 From that day on, she moved out of the house, and we practically never spoke again. I didn’t let it bother me much. Some people said I was morally bankrupt; others said the same about Chloe. I still didn’t get it. She said Liam’s pursuit was annoying her. She said she didn’t want him. So when I said I wanted him, why was she so pissed off? Fine, be pissed off. But cursing at me? I wasn’t going to tolerate that. Occasionally, I’d hear about her and her boyfriend. Some people said they were a perfect match, the smart girl and the bad boy. People on the campus forums even shipped them. As for me, my interactions with Liam only grew more frequent. He wasn’t great at expressing his emotions, but his manners were impeccable, his behavior completely restrained, and he quickly became the hottest topic on the university gossip boards. I became the girl by his side, and the rumors spread like wildfire. But I didn’t care. I knew exactly what I wanted from the very beginning. On the day of our wedding, Liam was busy until the very last minute, finally rushing in wearing a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit to stand before me. He looked like a freshly calibrated, highly precise piece of machinery. The wedding was incredibly lavish. I didn’t even recognize a third of the names on the guest list. I smiled appropriately, my posture elegant. In every single photo taken that day, I was flawless. I still have no idea how he convinced his parents to let him marry me. It wasn’t a marriage of convenience between two elite families. We weren’t of equal social standing. But his parents were incredibly cultured and polite. The disdain and snobbery I had imagined never happened. They gave us their most sincere blessing: “We hope the two of you support each other and build a wonderful marriage and life together.” After the wedding, my life was incredibly comfortable. Liam was truly, insanely rich. How rich? He had companies operating globally. We flew exclusively on his private jet, and he routinely signed contracts worth hundreds of millions. Marrying him was the smartest decision I ever made. He didn’t understand romance, and he didn’t understand me. He never wrote me love letters, never called me in the middle of the night just to say he missed me. Even on Valentine’s Day, he just had his assistant send flowers. He was the textbook “corporate husband”—calm, disciplined, and boring. Perhaps all his passionate, heart-pounding romantic energy had been entirely spent on Chloe. Being with him felt like I had married a money-making machine. “Is your husband away again? What’s the point of having all that money if he never comes home? Aren’t you lonely?” Sophia, my childhood best friend, asked me one day. We had lost touch a bit after I got married. When she came over, she immediately started complaining on my behalf, feeling that my husband spent way too little time with me. I didn’t agree. I took her on the private jet. How could I be lonely? The world is so massive. I should be thanking my husband for working himself to the bone to make so much money, giving me the chance to go see it all. Anywhere in the world, as long as I wanted to go, I could enjoy the absolute pinnacle of luxury. Lonely? How could I be? 04 My best friend’s expression darkened, and she finally just shook her head: “I still think this isn’t how a marriage should be. Being together is the most important thing. I’d rather struggle through poverty together than live like this.” … I didn’t understand. I was even a little shocked. There was actually someone else who thought exactly like Chloe. But I still felt a little down. Maybe, in their eyes, I was the freak? “I think you’ve changed. You’re not the Harper I grew up with anymore…” She flushed under my gaze, threw down that sentence, and stormed off in a huff. She was right. I had changed. In the beginning, I would take her on trips, cover all the expenses, and give her an authorized user card for whatever spa treatments she wanted. But she always felt humiliated. Everywhere we went, she insisted I calculate exactly how much she owed me, refusing to take advantage of me. Even though I repeatedly told her it wasn’t necessary, and Liam even explicitly told her to keep me company and that he would expense everything, she still refused. When my assistant would give her the heavily discounted receipts for her share of the trips, she would look at the exorbitant numbers, her face turning ugly, and demand the original itemized invoices from the assistant. She cynically suspected my assistant was trying to scam her out of money. Over time, I stopped inviting her out as much. After marriage, the circles I moved in were completely different. I was incredibly busy. Aside from traveling to relax, I enrolled in countless classes, ranging from floral design to French to financial management. I studied relentlessly. Not out of interest, but to prepare for the “what ifs.” I refused to leave this marriage empty-handed. I had heard that Chloe broke up with her sketchy boyfriend, and she had even gotten a job at one of Liam’s subsidiary companies. If the day ever came when Liam suddenly remembered his passionate, unforgettable first love and demanded a divorce, I wasn’t going to fight an unprepared battle. While taking half his assets in a divorce might be unrealistic, I intended to take as much as I legally could. And once I had the money, I needed to know how to manage it. So, I was very busy. 05 When I returned from my trip to Paris, Sophia came over. “Harper, his ‘first love’ is back! The one that got away! And she’s super rich now.” You married Liam for his money, but now you can totally divorce him and marry Julian! “He hasn’t looked for anyone else all these years. He’s still in love with you!” Coincidentally, Liam came home the exact same day I got back. He heard every single word she said. He stood in the foyer, wearing a perfectly pressed suit, his expression mild, betraying no emotion in his eyes. Sophia turned around and instantly went pale. She scrambled to her feet, laughing nervously: “Mr. Carter, you’re home… I was just joking around, Harper wouldn’t actually…” “I didn’t take it seriously.” His tone was calm. He walked in, not even unbuttoning his jacket, holding a gift box he had brought back from his business trip. “I didn’t take it to heart either.” He lowered his eyes and placed the exquisite box in front of me. “You mentioned last time that you wanted the Mille Crepe cake from Hokkaido. I brought it.” My eyes flickered, but my fingers didn’t move. My schedule was managed by my assistant, who reported directly to him. He knew I was coming back today and came home specifically to see me. I knew how incredibly tight his schedule was; making the time to fly back wasn’t easy. “…Thank you.” I heard him give a soft “Mhm” before he turned and headed upstairs. I sat on the couch, staring at the flawless, pristine crepe cake in front of me, and suddenly felt like it would taste like cardboard. 06 Sophia had bolted. She hadn’t expected Liam to come home early. She also hadn’t expected him to be the complete opposite of a “clueless, emotionless robot husband.” Actually, I knew that too. I knew he treated me well. It was just a very specific kind of well. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t “heart-fluttering.” It was just overwhelmingly steady. He and I were alike. We were both extremely disciplined people, and two people that similar rarely sparked fireworks. Our only true point of compatibility was… well, underneath the suits, he was built like a fitness model, and in bed, he was shockingly intense. Yet even in our most intimate moments, he strictly controlled the pace, disciplined to the point of rigidity, yet flawlessly satisfying. Thinking about the fact that we might separate one day, a strange sliver of disappointment actually pierced my chest. I hadn’t taken Sophia’s words to heart. Who could possibly be richer than Liam? The “first love” she was talking about, Julian Vance, was just a guy who pursued me back in college. He chased me, I told him I wasn’t interested, but he went around telling everyone I had said yes. When he kept harassing me, I bluntly told him I would only marry a rich man. Rumors are hard to kill, and somehow, the narrative twisted into him being my tragic first love. It was laughable. But the very next day, Julian actually contacted me. The text was cautious and restrained: “Harper, it’s Julian. Can we meet? I have something I need to tell you.” That disgusting familiarity… I didn’t reply. But it definitely caused a ripple of anxiety in my mind. Not because of love, but because he felt like a ticking time bomb. If I didn’t handle this carefully, it could become a hidden fuse in my marriage, blowing up my life the day it was triggered. I knew how lethal a media scandal about an “unforgettable old flame” could be. I wasn’t some hopeless romantic; I was entirely clear-headed. If I wanted to maintain the life I had, I couldn’t make a single mistake. Before Liam ever brought up divorce, I definitely wasn’t planning on initiating one. 07 When I showed up to the meeting, Sophia was there too. She ordered drinks, and Julian only had a few glasses. I hesitated for a moment before taking a sip. Honestly, the wine was trash. It couldn’t hold a candle to the cheapest bottle Liam kept in his cellar. I took one sip and pushed it away. Cheap liquor really is dangerous. Just that tiny sip made me dizzy, and the faces of the two people across from me started to blur into double vision. I slumped onto the table, groggily hearing them talk. “Baby, you are absolutely not allowed to touch her. We agreed, we just take the photos! Otherwise I’ll get jealous, and I won’t forgive you!” It was Sophia’s voice, pitched artificially high and nasally, like she had a cold. Who was she calling ‘baby’? Why was she using that disgusting voice? “Don’t worry babe, we’re just taking photos and recording a video. With this leverage, we’ll easily force the Carter Group into a partnership.” Julian? My foggy, heavy brain nearly short-circuited. Sophia and Julian? I blindly pressed the emergency shortcut on my phone. Just as Julian’s filthy hands were about to touch me, the bodyguards Liam had assigned to me burst into the room. “Mrs. Carter, are you alright?” The two people in front of me were immediately surrounded by security, and the restaurant was locked down. “What are you doing?! I’m Harper’s best friend! We grew up together! What are you trying to do?!” Sophia panicked. She had been to my house a few times and seen the staff, but she clearly didn’t know I traveled with a private security detail. Maybe I just never imagined that my so-called best friend would conspire with an outsider to drug and frame me. What did she even want? I didn’t understand. If she truly just wanted a business partnership, all she had to do was ask, and I would have helped her. Why go through this massive, convoluted plot to set me up?

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My stepbrother hated my guts. But I loved shadowing him. He paid me three grand just to skip walking to school with him, and thirty grand to transfer out of his class. Except every single time, I’d find my way back into his orbit. After graduation, he wired a massive sum to my account and said coldly: “There’s three-quarters of a million dollars. Go study abroad and never show your face in my house again.” My eyes welled up, and I lowered my head, whispering, “Okay.” Yes! Finally pulled it off. 01 I walked in on Tyler and the scholarship kid, Maya, right before they kissed. It was in a dimly lit VIP booth at a club. He was lounging in a corner sofa, looking exhausted, his eyes closed. His sharp profile was half-lost in the shadows. Maya, standing there in her white dress, had her hands planted on either side of him on the couch, tentatively leaning down, getting closer and closer to his face. Then I barged in. She jumped, turning around to face me in a panic. Her eyes were wide and watery, like a deer caught in headlights. “Harper, I…” I walked right past her, straight up to Tyler. ” The driver’s here. Dad told me to make sure you got a ride home too.” He picked up his jacket from beside him, threw it on, and followed me out. It was late, and the hallway was nearly empty. He pulled the door shut but didn’t move. He just leaned against it, standing there lazily. “She almost kissed me.” “…” I didn’t say anything. His voice took on an annoyed edge. “She’s terrified of everything. It took a lot for her to work up the courage to do that.” I unlocked my phone, showed him the time, and the text message my stepdad—his dad—had sent me. I explained in a low voice. “Dad really did tell me to give you a ride.” He glanced at it, dismissing me with a grunt. “Oh.” “I’m eighteen now, and I’m done with high school. He can’t control me anymore. Tattling won’t do you any good.” A flicker of neon light passed over us, illuminating his face. His cheeks were flushed. He was drunk. I gripped my sleeves, my voice barely audible. “But…” He cut me off quickly. “Take your own Uber back.” “And another thing—” His fingers tapped rapidly on his phone screen. “There’s three-quarters of a million dollars. Go study abroad and never show your face in my house again.” “Let’s make sure we never see each other after this.” “Harper, I really, truly hate you.” He was never going to see me again. My eyes instantly turned red. I lowered my head, holding back a sob. “Okay.” Tyler turned, walked back into the booth, and slammed the door hard behind him. I checked the numbers in my mobile banking app. I couldn’t help it. I crouched down, covered my mouth, and let out a sob that turned into a giggle. Yes! Finally pulled it off. 02 Tyler had hated me for a long time. He thought my mom and I were just gold diggers after the Vance family fortune. Well, he was smart about that. When I was fourteen, he put two lizards in my bed, trying to scare me into leaving his house. I screamed and cried. To comfort me, my stepdad gave me a huge allowance. Seeing the money made me happy again. When I was sixteen, Tyler and I were sent to the same private high school. He didn’t want to be in the same class as me, but he also didn’t want his dad to hit him and then give me money to make up for it. So, he skipped the intermediate steps. “Thirty grand.” “Transfer out of this homeroom.” Freshman year, I left. Sophomore year, I came back. He hadn’t specified a time limit. When I walked back into the classroom with my backpack, Tyler’s face was thunderous. The guy sitting in front of him grinned. “Ty, your sister is nothing if not persistent.” Tyler said coldly, “She is not my sister.” Everyone in the room gave a knowing smile. Tyler looked at me, scowling. “What is it actually going to take for you to disappear?” My eyes welled up. “Do you really hate me that much?” He flashed some numbers on his phone. I bit my lip. “Sorry. I think I walked into the wrong classroom today.” 03 I had identified a business opportunity. Tyler was seriously rich. His mom, who lived in Europe, had already paved the way for him with a massive trust fund. When he played golf, I’d be right there on the sidelines, acting as his hype man, holding his water and jacket. He came over to confront me once. I looked up at him, my eyes shining with feigned admiration. “Can’t I just look up to my big brother?” He Venmoed me money. “If you have nothing to do, go shopping. Stop annoying me.” Well, I had to accept the contribution. I shadowed Tyler for over a year. Everyone in our circle knew he had this stepsister, and they even joked about it, saying they’d send him flowers when he inevitably ended up on the news for losing it on me. Over time, Tyler stopped bothering to explain. He just consistently offered me money to get lost. But I wasn’t about to abandon my ATM. For Tyler’s eighteenth birthday party, he drank. When he got home from the venue, I was there with one hand holding an electrolyte drink and the other stabilizing him. I was hoping he was drunk enough to miscount the zeros on a bank transfer. He squinted, looking down at me, and suddenly said, “Harper, you are seriously calculating and manipulative.” There was a hint of mockery in his voice. I paused, my foot on the stairs. Getting insulted was going to cost extra. Without warning, he grabbed my waist, flipped the light switch, and pinned me against the railing of the spiral staircase to kiss me. Everything went dark instantly. My entire vision was filled with his face. His breath felt like a raging storm. Stunned, I shoved him away hard. The bottle in my hand hit the floor with a clatter and rolled down the stairs. My stepdad stood at the top of the stairs, asking, “Harper? Is everything okay?” I suppressed my shaking voice, putting on my usual aggrieved tone to complain: “Tyler’s drunk. He’s throwing a tantrum and smashed my bottle.” Tyler leaned against the railing, head down, not saying a word in the darkness. My stepdad sighed. “He’s always like this, goes crazy when he drinks. Ignore him. Go back to your room and rest. I’ll help him up.” I fled to my room. At 3:00 AM, Tyler texted me. [I’m sorry.] [I couldn’t see straight. I thought you were someone else.] It was the first time he had ever apologized to me. But it was an insult. It came with a Venmo transfer. I didn’t accept it, and I didn’t reply. 04 I found out later who that “someone else” was. One of Tyler’s many admirers. Maya Hayes, a scholarship student constantly ranked in the top ten of our class. She was insecure and timid, only daring to look up at him from afar. Somehow, Tyler had noticed her. He had said, “She’s just like Harper, always putting on that pathetic, pitiful act.” “Who is she trying to fool?” He hated me, yet he seemed drawn to Maya when she acted that way. After school, I was sitting in the car waiting for him. Then I saw a girl in the school uniform following behind him. The car door opened. He didn’t get in. He was holding her backpack. He raised an eyebrow at me and said casually, “Get out.” I was stunned for a second. Maya carefully reached out, grabbing his arm and giving it a gentle shake. Her voice was soft. “It’s okay, Tyler.” “I can take the bus back.” Tyler didn’t back down. His voice grew cold. “I’m driving her home.” “I sent you money. Take an Uber.” Why couldn’t he give me a bit more so I could just buy my own car and drive back? Whatever. Don’t push your luck. I nodded in humiliation, bit my lip, squeezed my backpack straps, and obediently got out of the car. It was dusk, and the crowd of students was dispersing. I stood by the roadside alone, staring at the tips of my shoes, tears falling one by one. It wasn’t until the car had driven off in the completely opposite direction that I wiped away my tears and opened Tyler’s message. $2,000? Good thing I didn’t check the message right in front of him. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to cry. 05 Tyler’s three-quarters of a million dollars came too late. I hadn’t prepared for the English proficiency exams in advance, so I had to cancel most of my summer travel plans and parties, holed up in my room memorizing vocabulary. Tyler was downstairs throwing a party with his friends. The speakers were incredibly loud. I took off my noise-canceling headphones and walked downstairs. “Can you turn it down a little?” Tyler’s friend patted the empty spot next to him and smiled. “Harper, you’re home? Why don’t you come join us?” I pressed my lips together in an embarrassed smile. “I’m upstairs studying.” “Studying?” Someone finally turned off the music to listen to me speak. “I thought people who studied this hard over summer break only existed on the internet.” “Maya came out to play, you should too.” Tyler never looked up from his phone the entire time. Maya was sitting next to him, smiling gently and sweetly at me. Then she took on a hesitant look. “Harper, you aren’t… planning on retaking your senior year, are you?” I wasn’t close with her. For her to call me by a nickname like that, it looked like things were progressing with Tyler. She continued, “It’s okay if you didn’t do well on the SATs.” “Mr. Vance is so rich, I’m sure he has plenty of connections to get you into a school.” Sensing the tension between us, everyone went quiet. I said softly, “Yeah, my family has money. It doesn’t matter what my scores are.” “Maya, are you worried about not getting in anywhere?” Her face went pale. Tyler finally looked up, giving her hand a reassuring pat. “Harper, don’t be a bitch.” I nodded. “Okay.” “I’m going up to study. Keep it down, please.” I put my headphones back on and walked up the stairs. I could feel several pairs of eyes on my back, making my skin crawl. 06 On score release day, Maya was also at the Vance house. The excuse this time was that her ancient computer at home had broken down. Even though Tyler knew the scores were sent via text message, he still indulged her and brought her back. Around 3:00 PM, I heard sobbing from Tyler’s study. I couldn’t tell if it was from sadness or joy. The text message didn’t give the total score. Tyler was holding a calculator, adding up each section for her. I was heading out for a prep class and passed his study. The door wasn’t shut. He was leaning against a bookshelf, reading out the score. “1520.” Just loud enough for me to hear. He knew I was walking by. He didn’t look up. “What about you?” Maya looked confused. “What?” I was downstairs putting on my shoes and replied casually. “1580.” Better than I expected. I was just waiting for him to ask. Something suddenly dropped to the floor inside the room. It made a sharp sound. 07 “My dad wants you to go to Harvard.” That evening, Tyler was standing outside my room, speaking through the door. My stepdad was a pretty traditional guy. He valued prestige and thought having a child go to an Ivy League school would give him more social standing. I held the doorknob, wanting to shut the door. “But you told me to go abroad.” “…” Tyler was silent for a moment, then laughed. “You listen to me now?” The money was in the bank; of course I was going to listen. Though in the past, I admittedly only listened halfway. He’d tell me to get lost, I’d get lost for an hour, and then I’d come back. This time, I was too embarrassed to do that. Three-quarters of a million dollars. I promised that once I took it, I was gone. I’d never show up again. Family gatherings? My mom and I could eat at a separate table. He said, “So you’re ignoring what my dad wants?” I had played the obedient child at home often enough. I lowered my head and bit my lip, putting on my best meek and mild act, fiddling with the hem of my dress. He said, “Give me your login passwords. I’ll fill out your applications.” I said weakly, “Don’t send me to some community college in the middle of nowhere.” Tyler let out a light laugh. “You know I won’t.” I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I was preparing to accept an offer from a university in London. 08 To play it safe. Tyler filled out his own top choice as Cornell for Agricultural Sciences. For Maya, he filled out Mechanical Engineering. His mom had money and connections over in Europe; he just needed the degree, he didn’t care about the major. As for my applications, he filled all twelve slots with schools in Boston. I’d have to go through and delete every single one of them. Both he and Maya got accepted. He truly didn’t care about Maya’s future career satisfaction either. My stepdad was thrilled and planned to book a hotel for a massive graduation party. At dinner, he opened a bottle of expensive red wine to toast my mom. Tyler walked downstairs and casually mentioned, “Can we have Harper’s party at the same time?” We had had a joint middle school graduation party years ago. My stepdad smiled. “We aren’t throwing a party for Harper yet.” “She’s going abroad. To make sure she doesn’t take up an American student’s spot, she deleted all her domestic applications.” “We’ll throw hers next year.” The faint smile on Tyler’s lips vanished instantly. His face went dark and stormy. “Abroad?” I kept my head down, quietly eating, occasionally taking a small sip of the $15,000 bottle of red wine. I didn’t really appreciate the taste. But the more I drank, the more value I got. I certainly wouldn’t buy it with my own money. My stepdad frowned. “Yeah. The decision was a bit rushed, but I fully support Harper.” “This is such a happy day, why the long face?” Tyler kept his eyes down. “I’m not happy.” My stepdad was confused. “You’re the one who said you wanted to go to the same school as the girl you like. Now you’ve both been accepted, to an Ivy League school no less, what is there to be unhappy about?” “The major is a bit weak, but you can always transfer later. It’s not like we’re actually going to make you a farmer.” “Your mom is happy too. She wants you to go visit her in Europe for a month this summer.” Tyler asked, “Which country?” My stepdad slammed his chopsticks down. “You don’t even know which country your own mother lives in anymore?” He looked at me. “I’m asking Harper.” My stepdad silently picked up his chopsticks. I set down my wine glass, carefully raising my eyes. “I haven’t decided yet.”

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My parents always claimed to treat all their children exactly the same. Whenever there was a chance to get something new for the house, they’d make the three of us kids draw lots via a group text app to decide who would buy it. And I always seemed to draw the big-ticket items—like a dishwasher, an AC unit, or a massage chair. Meanwhile, my younger brother and older sister would only ever draw cheap, insignificant things, like a $30 blender or a basic grocery care package. It wasn’t until the day I helped my dad fix his phone that a text message popped up: “Hey man, the lottery bot app updated. You can rig the results and run multiple draws now. You said the client is getting suspicious? Just set the same result three times in a row.” That’s when I realized I was the “client.” That evening, the family group chat lit up again. My dad texted: “We need to upgrade to a minivan for family road trips. Let’s see which sweet child gets the lucky draw today!” But what my dad didn’t know was that I had already installed an anti-cheat lottery app on my phone. In the end, the person who drew the short straw to buy the car was my little brother. My parents were absolutely stunned. 1 When the draw results popped up, the group chat went a bit quiet. My brother, Tyler, was in disbelief: “Me???” I chimed in: “Wow! Tyler, you’re the lucky winner!” My dad was probably a little confused. He sent a voice memo to the group: “Alright! Just to be fair, let’s do best out of three!” The results disappointed my dad. The next draw picked my older sister, Chloe, and the final draw picked Tyler again. I was completely left out. Chloe sent a speechless emoji: “Lost my chance to treat mom and dad.” Tyler got angry: “What the heck! Why is my luck so bad today!” Me: [?????] My mom came out to smooth things over: “What do you mean ‘bad luck’? Spending money on your parents is called giving back. Your sister was so happy when she drew the central AC before! When she got her $12,000 year-end bonus, she spent it on us—that’s what we call a blessing!” Tyler grumbled: “What blessing? Let Chloe have this blessing then!” I suppressed the cold laugh in my heart and replied: “I’ve drawn a $5,000 massage chair, a $2,000 fridge, and a $12,000 central AC system before. What did you guys say back then? Didn’t you say that God favors those who honor their parents? Why are you unhappy now that you won?” Tyler lost his temper: “Harper Vance! Stop being so sarcastic! This car is $25,000! Why don’t you buy it for Mom and Dad!” As soon as Tyler said that, the group chat suddenly went dead silent. Nobody had called me by that name in a long time. 2 There are three kids in my family: my older sister Chloe, my younger brother Tyler, and me, Harper Vance. Actually, I didn’t realize there was anything wrong with my given middle name until right before I got married. I even thought “Harper” and my middle name, “Dawn,” sounded very pretty together. But one day, while bickering with my fiancé, Liam, he blurted out that my parents didn’t love me at all. I argued back: “My parents don’t love me? Who made the pot roast you ate for lunch today? If they didn’t love me, would they cook for me and drive all the way here to drop it off?” He unceremoniously punctured my delusion: “The money your parents spend on you is less than a tenth of what they spend on your sister and brother, but the return they get from you is more than a hundred times that. What’s a little pot roast? For your sister’s birthday, your parents gave her a gold bracelet. For your birthday, they made you a bowl of pot roast, and you’re proud of it?” “They only love you with their words.” I was so angry at the time. I repeatedly defended my parents, saying they were very fair, and even accused him of not understanding sibling dynamics because he was an only child. When the argument reached its peak, he blurted out: “If your parents really love you, why did they give you the middle name Dawn?” I froze. So, I quickly called my mom: “Mom, why is my middle name Dawn?” My mom hesitated for half a minute: “Huh? Dawn as in the break of day, Dawn is…” Liam typed on his phone next to me to show me: “Ask Mom directly, is it supposed to mean ‘Dawn of a son’?” I asked nervously: “Mom, when you gave me this name, was it because you were hoping for the dawn of a baby boy?” I tried to make my tone sound as light as possible. My mom sighed in relief: “We were able to have your brother all thanks to you bringing in the dawn! I’ll have to make that brat buy you dinner sometime!” My face instantly turned cold: “Mom, you always said my brother was an accident. You said you didn’t specifically keep trying just because you wanted a boy!” My mom panicked: “Hey, Harper, listen to me…” After hanging up the phone, my face was dead pale. Liam hurriedly apologized: “I’m sorry, honey, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have said anything!” “Dawn of a son.” How could I have not realized this for the past few decades? 3 I suddenly intensely hated the middle name Dawn. Later, Liam pulled some strings and helped me legally change my middle name to “Grace.” The name was chosen together with my in-laws, meaning elegance and blessing. When my mom found out, she scoffed: “What kind of name is that? It sounds so stuck-up. Good thing you’re already married, otherwise I’d think that name was cursing you to end up alone.” I didn’t respond, but I felt incredibly sad inside. 4 The next afternoon, my mom called me. “Grace, are you still mad? Your brother is just a jerk, I’ve already scolded him.” I said: “It’s nothing, I’m not holding it against him.” My mom sighed: “Out of the three kids in our family, you are the most worry-free, the most sensible, and the most capable. Mom and Dad are counting on you in the future.” She rambled on to me for over half an hour. She said Tyler’s company was doing layoffs and pay cuts, and he was in a bad mood. She said my dad scolded Tyler yesterday and praised me for my great contributions to the family. Finally, realizing I wasn’t actually angry, she reminded me: “We won’t cook for the family dinner this weekend. Your dad’s shoulder pain is acting up again, let’s just go to The Olive Branch.” I said okay. 5 On the day of the family dinner, my brother immediately showed off to me, saying he bought the car. I was a little surprised. My dad said: “Of course! How else can you say a son is like a nuclear weapon—you might not use it, but you can’t be without one!” “Tyler is really practical. It’ll be so convenient for the family to go out in the future. He’s much better than those kids who only care about themselves.” My expression remained normal, pretending not to understand. “Harper, it’s not that Dad wants to criticize you, but look at your brother. Even though he wasn’t happy about it verbally, he still bought it for us right away! And you? You make a good living running your salon, right? I never see you take the initiative to buy anything for the house; Mom and Dad always have to rely on a lottery to decide.” Chloe kept shrinking into the background, trying to minimize her presence. I put down my water glass and looked at my dad: “Dad, didn’t you say you wanted to treat us all equally? So buying anything for you relies on a lottery? I never said a word about whatever I drew before, did I?” Seeing the tension rising, my mom finally spoke up. “But your dad really miscalculated this time. The base price of the car was over $28,000. The down payment alone wiped out your brother’s savings. Mom and Dad were thinking, could you two share a bit of the burden? Next time we need something, we won’t ask you guys.” Chloe quickly waved her hands: “My monthly salary is only $3,200, and my rent is $1,500. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. I don’t have the money.” My brother opportunistically chimed in, saying he took a pay cut and a $900 monthly car payment was really too much to handle. I just kept my head down and ate, not saying a word. 6 Actually, Liam and I keep our finances relatively separate; he takes care of the household expenses and the mortgage. I studied biotechnology in college, worked for ten years after graduation, and then started my own business, opening a high-end salon. Liam comes from a very good family. He never questions how I spend my money. Whatever I buy, he always provides full emotional support—either praising my good taste or saying it suits me perfectly. In addition, he gives me a separate $3,000 a month in allowance. Even my friends say that a man like Liam is a scarce resource—rich, handsome, and treats his wife so well. Liam has money, and I have money too. But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to continue unconditionally giving to my family after realizing I’m just being treated like an ATM. 7 I coughed: “Mom, Dad! Actually, there’s something I haven’t dared to tell you.” My parents suddenly got a little nervous. “In the first half of the year, the salon brought in a batch of new equipment. As a result, that batch was sued for patent infringement by a medical device company this year. The equipment has been seized, and I’ve lost over $150,000. The salon’s cash flow is having some problems. Mom, Dad, can you lend me some money? Once I turn things around, I’ll pay you back immediately!” The atmosphere at the dinner table instantly plummeted. My mom spoke first: “How could you lose so much? Hasn’t your salon always been very profitable? $150,000! How could you be so careless!” My dad’s tone sank: “We haven’t even figured out this car loan yet, where would the family have spare cash to fill your hole? Besides, doing business requires stability, what are you doing messing around blindly!” My mom’s tone carried a bit of blame: “If I had known you were going to mess around like this, I should have just made you work a stable 9-to-5 job.” “I didn’t want this either. I thought I could make more money so I could help out more when the family needed it in the future. Who knew I’d lose this much.” I tried hard to squeeze out a few tears: “The salon hasn’t had many customers lately, and the employees’ salaries are suffocating me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been so nervous about the lottery last time—if I really drew it, what would I use to buy it?” I looked at my parents with expectant eyes: “I just… I really have no other choice but to ask you guys. After all, you’re my own parents. I can’t exactly borrow from strangers, right?” “It’s not that Mom and Dad are heartless, but we only have a little bit of retirement money. If we take it out and give it to you now, what happens if one of us gets sick or has an accident? Who will take care of us? Can’t you be considerate of Mom and Dad’s difficulties?” Hearing this, my heart went completely cold. I picked up my bag and said coldly: “Alright Mom, Dad, I understand. I have things to do, so I’ll leave first.” Seeing my attitude, my mom suddenly stood up: “Hey, why are you getting angry…” I ignored her and slammed the door as I left. When I got to the parking lot, I realized I forgot my car keys and had to turn back to get them. 8 Just as I reached the elevator lobby, I ran into my parents and the others. They didn’t see me, so I quickly hid to the side. My brother said: “Mom, Dad! I kept winking at you, why didn’t you see it? Why were you so definitive at the dinner table! Her in-laws are so rich, would they really just watch her salon go bankrupt? Great, now you’ve completely pissed her off!” Chloe also complained: “Exactly! Mom, Dad, you always said people need to be a little strategic. You have to act like you’re treating everyone equally so Harper is willing to help us out. How could you lose your cool first?” “Shh! Do you want to die? Why are you still calling her Harper Dawn!” My mom hit my sister. My mom then turned and scolded my dad, saying he made the lottery too obvious. How could the expensive items coincidentally always be drawn by me? My dad retorted, telling them to stop acting smart after the fact. “Right, Dad, your lottery app definitely has a problem. We need to change to a different one.” Chloe agreed: “Exactly, it almost scared me to death that day.” “Think of a way to apologize to her, otherwise it’ll be even more impossible to expect to get money out of her in the future. You guys are terrible teammates. I was hoping to checkmate her today and make her pay the car loan, now there’s no chance!” My mom affectionately patted him: “Anyway, we already transferred the car money to you, stop nagging.” That’s when it dawned on me. No wonder my brother bought the car so quickly. At this time, Chloe started whining to my mom again: “You bought Tyler a car, when are you buying me one?” “Wait a little longer. Let’s see if her salon is really going to close. If it really closes, she’ll probably still have a lot of money left over from selling the business. We’ll think of a way to get some more money from her then.” Watching the back of this happy family of four, I felt both angry and heartbroken. They didn’t care what would happen to my salon or what would happen to me; they only blindly thought about how to extort a little more. 9 When I got home, Liam was looking at me with a wicked smile. “How was it? Did I win the bet, hahaha! You didn’t manage to borrow any money, did you, hahahaha!” Liam laughed so hard he rolled on the bed. I picked up my phone and transferred $7,000 to him. Seeing my desolate expression, my husband panicked a little. “What’s wrong?” I sniffled, suppressing the soreness in my chest: “I just feel like the first thirty years of my life have been a joke.” He took a tissue and wiped the corners of my eyes: “Don’t say that. It’s because you’re kind that you were fooled by their ‘fairness’ for so long.” I suddenly started crying loudly. “Honey, don’t scare me! Don’t cry, okay, okay, I’ll give the money back to you, and I’ll give you another $7,000.” I didn’t speak, just kept crying. He had to hold me, gently patting my shoulder. He waited until my emotions stabilized. I asked Liam: “What kind of person do you think I am?” He was stunned: “What do you mean? You are the most beautiful! Most kind! Most gentle fairy wife in the world!” I wiped my tears: “I care for my family, I honor my parents. When our family was struggling financially when I was little, as the middle child, I always worked hard to help my parents out, wanting to make things easier for them. I even worked part-time and used student loans for college. Why do they only treat me as a machine they can bleed dry?” My husband sighed: “Honey, do you know what your biggest problem is when dealing with your family of origin?” 10 I talked a lot with my husband and figured out a lot of things. How people treat you depends on where your own bottom line is. If you keep letting others frantically test your limits and push further, then you will only keep retreating step by step. In the end, the person who suffers will always be you.

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