Category: English

Mrs. Miller pointed at my nose and said that I was trash, and her son was the only one who didn’t mind. Mr. Miller made it clear: if I was pregnant with a boy, they’d be willing to take me in. But if it was a girl, there was no way they’d let me marry into the family. I laughed. “Didn’t you want a grandson? Go look for one underground.” John and I had been dating for three years. We were introduced through our families. The person who introduced us said that John was honest, decent-looking, and his character was outstanding. I met him, and sure enough, he spoke well and wasn’t unattractive. After spending some time together, I found he was quite considerate, so I agreed to start dating him. For the past three years, John treated me well. He had plenty of flaws, but none that I couldn’t tolerate. What I couldn’t stand was how much he listened to his mom. If she told him what time to get up, he wouldn’t sleep a minute longer. But he promised me that he’d work on breaking that habit. After three years, both of our families arranged to meet and discuss marriage. I thought about it and agreed—it was time to settle down. But just a month after we got engaged, I found out I was pregnant. I stared at the two lines on the pregnancy test, lost in thought. We’d been careful all these years, never had any accidents. I told John about it, and he was thrilled. But his excitement didn’t seem like the joy of someone about to become a father. “I’ve got to call my parents right away,” he said. I nodded, not thinking much of it. It made sense to tell his parents, so I picked up my phone, unsure how to break the news to mine. Even though we were already engaged, we hadn’t officially gotten married yet, and none of the wedding details had been finalized. Meanwhile, John had already called his parents. The first thing he said was, “Mom, Olivia is pregnant. We’re expecting.” His mother immediately responded with a sigh of relief, “Finally, it happened.”

What did she mean by “finally”? I stared at John, confused. He looked flustered and quickly said into the phone, “Mom, Olivia is right here.” He was video chatting with his parents, so I didn’t say anything. When he hung up, I asked, “What did your mom mean by ‘finally’?” John wrapped his arm around my waist with a laugh. “What do you think she meant? She’s just happy. She’s been waiting for a grandkid, that’s all.” His words stung a little. I pushed his arm away. “It’s not necessarily a boy. What if it’s a girl? Is that a problem?” John realized his mistake and quickly tried to comfort me. “Of course not! Boys, girls—they’re all the same. Honestly, it’d be perfect if we had one of each.” Something about the situation didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Later, when John went to make dinner, I called my parents to tell them the news. They were a little surprised, but after thinking it over, they didn’t scold me. After all, we were already engaged, and the wedding was just a matter of time. They only told us to come home and finalize the wedding details quickly. “You don’t want to be walking down the aisle with a big belly,” my mom said. I understood what they meant. It wouldn’t look good in front of all the relatives. When I talked it over with John, he was hesitant. He made excuses about not being able to take time off and how he was busy with a work project. John was just a regular employee—nothing so urgent that he couldn’t leave for a few days. Besides, what company doesn’t allow time off for a wedding? John kept delaying, and by the time we finally went home, three months had passed. By then, I was already four months pregnant. But because I was skinny and it was winter, no one could really tell. That night, my mom sat next to me, looking concerned. “John didn’t want to come back earlier—do you think they might be planning to reduce the dowry?” I was confused. “What do you mean?” She glanced at my belly. “You’re pregnant now. Do you think they’re trying to use that as an excuse to offer less?” I thought about it. An $8,800 dowry didn’t seem unreasonable, and John’s family wasn’t exactly poor. Besides, I was bringing a dowry of my own into the marriage. “Don’t worry, John isn’t like that.” My mom nodded, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t stop thinking about how John had delayed our trip home for so long. Now that I was four months along and could no longer get an abortion, he was suddenly in a rush to return. Why? Could my mom be right? Were they trying to avoid paying the dowry? The next morning, John and his parents came over to discuss the wedding. They walked in with an air of superiority, and I frowned slightly. Mrs. Miller nodded at me, her eyes filled with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction. “How’s the baby, Olivia?” “I’m fine,” I replied, sitting next to my parents and saying nothing more. Mr. Miller cleared his throat and started talking. “We all know Olivia is pregnant. Now, we’re a well-educated family, and frankly, we don’t approve of girls who get pregnant before marriage.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. His father actually said that. My dad, who had always been protective of me, couldn’t stay quiet. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?” Mr. Miller gave a cold laugh. “It may be harsh, but it’s the truth.” I looked at John. He was sitting next to his mother, head down, avoiding my gaze. “Let’s cut to the chase,” I said. “What are you really trying to say?” Mr. Miller glared at me. “The $8,800 dowry we talked about? We’re not paying it. But we expect you to provide the wedding gifts.” He glanced at my belly. “After all, we’re taking a risk here. We don’t even know if that baby is truly a Miller.” His words made my blood boil. My parents were furious as well, barely able to contain their anger. “John,” I said, turning to him, “is this how you feel too?” He finally lifted his head and met my eyes, speaking softly, “I listen to my parents.” I laughed bitterly. “Great. Just great.” My mom grabbed my arm, trying to calm me down. “How could you say something so disgusting?” she snapped at them. “If you’re so short on money, just say so. You don’t have to insult my daughter like this.” My dad was gripping the table in anger. Mrs. Miller wasn’t backing down. “It’s not an insult. Your daughter did this, so it’s only natural for people to talk.” I shot up from my chair. “I didn’t do this alone! Your son is involved, and you don’t seem to be blaming him for anything!” “John!” I shouted, glaring at the man sitting in the corner. “Say something right now, in front of both our families. Was I the one who forced you to get me pregnant? If that’s what you think, I’ll turn myself in right now.” John stood up shakily, looking between me and his parents. “No, no, of course not. You know that’s not true.” I turned to Mrs. Miller. “Did you hear that?” She didn’t seem fazed. “Well, John is a boy. It’s different for him.” “How is it different? He’s not a human being like I am?” Mrs. Miller stood up, pointing her finger at me, ready to yell, but my dad stepped in between us. “This is my house,” he said firmly. “If you don’t intend to marry Olivia, then leave.” Mr. and Mrs. Miller sneered and laughed. “Fine, we’ll go. But don’t come crawling to us later.” “Hmph.” John hesitated at the door, glancing back at me nervously, but I shot him a look that made him lower his head and leave. As soon as they were gone, my mom started crying. “What are we going to do now?” I looked at my parents, who were being dragged into this mess because of me, and my heart ached. But I held back my tears. Now was not the time to cry. If I broke down, my parents would only worry more. “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I’ll go get an abortion tomorrow.”

My mom immediately protested. “No, you can’t! I’ve heard that getting an abortion this far along can harm your body. You might not be able to have kids again.” I sat down, trying to stay calm. “I’ll go to the hospital and talk to the doctor. If I can’t get an abortion, I’ll have the baby and raise it myself.” My dad sighed. “We can talk to the Millers again tomorrow. If they don’t want to pay the dowry, that’s fine. We don’t need their money.” With that, he went back into the house. My mom held my hand tightly. “Your father has always been a proud man. He’s just upset. Once he calms down, we’ll talk to the Millers again.” That night, no matter how many messages John sent me, I didn’t reply. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep until dawn. When I finally woke up, my mom was the only one in the kitchen, making breakfast. Then I remembered—my dad had said he’d go to the Millers’ house last night. It was already noon, and he still wasn’t back. “Don’t worry,” my mom said, trying to reassure me. “If things didn’t go well, he would’ve come home by now.” But I couldn’t shake the anxiety. What if they were giving my dad a hard time? “I’m going to find him,” I said, grabbing my coat. Just as I opened the door, I saw my dad standing there. His face was full of worry, but when he saw me, he forced a smile. “Where are you off to?” “Dad, why were you gone so long? Did they give you trouble?” He hesitated before answering, “No, no trouble. Just talking about the wedding.” My mom hurried over. “So? What did they say?” My dad closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “They said we have to wait until Olivia gives birth. If it’s a boy, then they’ll agree to the marriage.” “What?” My mom and I both shouted in unison. “This is outrageous,” my mom fumed, throwing her dish towel on the floor. “Do they think their son is a god or something?” I felt dizzy, my vision going black for a moment. How could everything I’d dreamed of—the wedding, the marriage—turn into this nightmare? I wobbled on my feet, and my mom rushed over to steady me. “Olivia, should we go to the hospital?” I suddenly remembered what John and his mother had said that day—finally pregnant. So this had all been part of their plan from the start.

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I received a call from the police, saying they needed my cooperation in an investigation. Was this some kind of scam call? “Yes, I went to Thailand. I used my card to buy an elephant,” I replied dismissively before hanging up. Not long after, the phone rang again. It was the same number. “This isn’t a scam call. We mainly want to inquire about Mr. Zachary Walsh’s disappearance,” the voice said. Are scammers getting this thorough now? They even know about my good-for-nothing husband who never comes home? Then I heard him continue, “We received a missing person report from his wife, stating that Mr. Walsh disappeared after meeting with you.” Wait, his wife? Confused, I rummaged through my things to find our marriage certificate. Looking at the official seal, I wondered aloud, “Then who am I?” When the police came to my door again, they didn’t just talk to me there. Instead, they asked me to come to the station for questioning. When I arrived, I saw a young, pretty pregnant woman sitting in a chair outside. She was so thin that if she hadn’t been wearing maternity clothes, you wouldn’t have known she was pregnant. Next to her, constantly comforting her, was a middle-aged woman who bore some resemblance to Zachary. Coincidentally, I knew both of them. One was Zachary’s aunt, and the other was the homewrecker who had ruined my marriage. Sophie Jenkins jumped up when she saw me, pointing and yelling, “It was you, wasn’t it? You wanted more money and didn’t want to divorce him, so you did something to my husband! Otherwise, how could he just disappear without a trace?” How ridiculous. Although Zachary and I were discussing divorce, we hadn’t even signed the papers yet. And she was already calling him her husband. “Don’t want a divorce? I married that man because I was blind. Only someone like you would treat him like a treasure. You two deserve each other,” I shot back, refusing to back down. “You accuse me of harming him? Why don’t you look at yourself? If I remember correctly, Zachary didn’t put a single thing he gave you in your name, right? And he never gave you more than $1000 at a time, did he?” I knew all too well how stingy Zachary was as a man. I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to be his mistress. “You’re not very good at being a mistress, are you? Everything he gave you, he can take back whenever he wants. Even if you managed to become the official wife, he’d still toss you aside when he’s done with you.” At this point, Zachary’s aunt, Zoe, tried to intervene. “We’re all family here. Why are you fighting like this? The most important thing right now is to find Zachary. You can’t get divorced if he’s not here, right, Rachel?” I gave her a cold, mocking smile. Only Aunt Zoe could say such nonsense. When my in-laws were on their deathbeds, I was running around taking care of everything. Not a single person told me that Zachary was out there with a mistress. The whole family treated me like a fool. Back then, when I wanted to hire professional caregivers for my in-laws, how did Aunt Zoe try to persuade me against it? She said, “Rachel, dear, it’s best to take care of your own family members. You don’t know how scary it is these days. There are so many stories online about caregivers abusing the elderly.” I replied, “I’ll visit my parents-in-law every day after work. They’re in the hospital, so nothing like that will happen.” Aunt Zoe then put on a sour face and said, quite unhappily, “Rachel, I don’t mean to criticize you, but you’ve already failed to give Zachary children. Now that his parents are sick and need you, how can you not take care of them yourself? You’re his wife, you’re one unit.” Back then, I didn’t realize how ridiculous Aunt Zoe’s words were. I even thought she had a point. Now, looking back, it’s absurd. I retorted, “Listen to yourself. Is that how a human being talks? Before Zachary disappeared, every time you said we were family, it was to convince him to leave me with nothing. Now that he’s gone and you realize you can’t get anything, suddenly I’m family again? Do I look like some kind of pushover to you?” Aunt Zoe’s face turned ashen. She tried to pull the elder card on me again, like she used to. I wasn’t falling for it anymore. “Enough. Don’t bother with this act. You can’t even manage your own son, and now you’re trying to meddle in my life when Zachary and I are already estranged? What are you, the world police?” At this point, the female detective from earlier and a few other officers came to break up the argument. Aunt Zoe and Sophie didn’t dare to make a scene anymore. They could only watch as Detective Miller and I walked into the interview room. Detective Edwards and a young officer I hadn’t seen before, who seemed to have a perpetual scowl, were there to question me. Detective Edwards informed me, “We found Mr. Walsh’s fishing gear downstream in the reservoir. We suspect he might have fallen into the water and had an accident.” I couldn’t help but laugh. The scowling young officer said, “This is serious! We’re talking about a man’s life here.” I replied, “I’m sorry, officer, but as you know, I’m a woman whose marriage was betrayed. The mistress is right outside with a baby bump. If it were anyone else, I’d be worried and concerned. But when it comes to Zachary Walsh, I hope he’s dead already.” Detective Edwards calmed down the young officer and handed me some photos. “This is what we wanted to discuss. According to our investigation, you were also near Linjiang Reservoir last Friday. Security cameras near Linjiang Supermarket caught you on tape. Can you tell us why you were there?” The photos showed me wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses, a face mask, a green sun protection shirt, white pants, and sneakers. Coincidentally, I was wearing the exact same outfit today. “I have legs, don’t I? I can go wherever I want,” I replied coldly, my tone somewhat confrontational. The young officer tried to intimidate me, “Ma’am, please answer our questions seriously. This isn’t just a missing person case anymore. If you can’t prove your innocence, we have the right to arrest you.” In reality, they couldn’t, because they had no evidence to prove my guilt. But many ordinary citizens don’t know this, so when the police say things that are half-true, those with guilty consciences might confess. But I had nothing to hide. I didn’t want to waste any more time here, so I told the truth. “I went there to discuss divorce matters with him.” Detective Edwards asked, “Didn’t you and Mr. Walsh already reach an agreement? Why did you need to discuss it again? And why didn’t you say this earlier?” My craving for a cigarette hit me again. I asked Detective Edwards for one and said, “Actually, we hadn’t. Before, he wanted a divorce and I didn’t, so he kept dragging things out. Now, I want a divorce and he doesn’t, so he’s the one dragging his feet.” “Why did Mr. Walsh change his mind?” they asked. I smiled bitterly. “For money, of course.” “At first, he wanted to get rid of me cheaply, and I didn’t agree. Later, I wanted to take what rightfully belonged to me and leave, but he thought it was too much and disagreed.” “So he refused to talk to me, kept stalling, and wouldn’t meet me face to face. When I called, he’d just say one thing.” The scowling officer asked, “What did he say?” “He’d say, ‘I’ll only accept you leaving with nothing. If you agree, we’ll divorce. If not, forget it.’” Detective Edwards asked, “And Sophie Jenkins was okay with this situation? Her baby must be about six months along now.” I laughed mockingly. “What could she do about it? I built this business with Zachary. I only stepped back from the company because I had to take care of his dying parents. That’s why I lost so much control and ended up in this situation.” “I have the means and ability to fight Zachary. As long as he still cares about his reputation and doesn’t want to be shunned by his business partners, he has to deal with me, no matter how annoying it is.” “But what leverage does that whore outside have? The baby in her belly? I couldn’t have children before, but when I couldn’t give birth, didn’t he just find another woman to have a kid with? Everything she has, Zachary can take back whenever he wants. He’s just deluding himself, thinking he’s in love with her. Are you satisfied with this explanation?” “Answer what we ask, don’t try to deflect. How did you know Zachary would be there? Did he tell you? Did you see him?” The scowling officer tapped the table. I gave him an OK sign. “Of course he didn’t tell me. The mistress told me. But I didn’t see Zachary either. He didn’t want to meet me. Sophie was afraid Zachary would come after her, so she only told me his general location.” She was desperate to become the official wife but couldn’t get Zachary to budge, so she tried to work through me. “We heard from Ms. Jenkins that you had blocked her. How did she tell you?” they asked. “Public phone. All the calls taunting me to hurry up and divorce Zachary came from public phones.” I opened my call log on my phone to show them. Indeed, there was a 5-minute call from a public phone the day before Zachary disappeared. “Instead of suspecting me and questioning me all the time, why don’t you ask Sophie Jenkins? Maybe she did something out of jealousy because she couldn’t become the official wife. The first time she came to make a scene, it was with Zachary, you know.” Detective Edwards said, “Tell us more about that.” I smiled, feeling genuinely cheerful for the first time since hearing that Zachary might have met with an accident. “Because at that time, Sophie didn’t know Zachary had me as his legal wife. When she found out, of course she went to confront him!”

Soon after, I left the police station. I didn’t know that Detective Edwards and his team had a discussion about this case. Detective Edwards asked, “What do you think, sir? Can we trust her?” Detective Thompson shook his head, then nodded. “Rachel Quinn is different from Sophie Jenkins. She has very high psychological resilience. She’s definitely hiding something. Her words are half-truths and half-lies. We can only believe about half of what she says.” The scowling officer, Detective Wilson, said, “In my opinion, we should lock her up and interrogate her repeatedly. It won’t take long before we know exactly what she’s hiding.” Detective Miller scolded him, “Are you trying to get us all fired? Don’t drag us into your misconduct!” Then she turned and pulled out some documents. “Uncle Thompson, according to our investigation, Sophie Jenkins is also hiding something and has a motive for committing a crime.” This piqued everyone’s interest. What motive could a soon-to-be-official mistress have? Could it really be a crime of passion? “The phone records Rachel Quinn gave us show that Sophie Jenkins did indeed use a public phone to call and taunt her the day before, and told her about Zachary Walsh’s plans for the next day.” “We confirmed this from the surveillance cameras near the phone booth. As for the other things Rachel mentioned, including property and car titles, it’s true that none of them are in Sophie’s name. We also found many compromising photos of Sophie on Zachary’s phone, suggesting he might have used them to blackmail her.” “I discovered something else during the investigation,” Detective Miller continued. Detective Thompson gestured for her to go on. “When the Walshes were still happily married, they sponsored many students. Sophie Jenkins was one of them. At first, she was genuinely deceived by Zachary. Many neighbors know about this incident.” Detective Wilson said to Detective Edwards, “The case seems to have become more complicated.” Detective Edwards smiled. “Actually, the case isn’t that complicated. What’s complicated is the human heart.” Detective Thompson made a decision. “Alright, let’s question Sophie Jenkins next.” When I got home, I looked around the empty house and sank comfortably into the couch. Everything belonging to the second person in this house had long been cleared out. Now, this house that Zachary and I had shared after our marriage was no different from the home of any single woman. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Irritated, I dragged myself up to look through the peephole. It was Zachary’s cousin, Zack Walsh. I opened the inner door but left the outer security door locked. At this point, I had zero goodwill towards anyone in the Walsh family and didn’t want to let them set foot in my house. “Sister-in-law!” Zack greeted me enthusiastically, then tried to come in. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” “No,” I said flatly, with no intention of playing host. “I don’t deserve to be called your sister-in-law or a member of the Walsh family. Let’s cut the pleasantries. What are you here for?” When Zachary’s parents were critically ill, Aunt Zoe hadn’t contributed a penny or lifted a finger to help. But as soon as the old couple passed away, she brought her son to demand money. That’s why our two families had a falling out long ago. She stood in front of the coffins with a tattered notebook, itemizing everything—how much more money her parents had given her brother when they divided the family assets, what things Zachary’s parents had borrowed from her after the wedding. Finally, in front of everyone at the funeral, she said, “You’re my nephew’s wife, so I won’t be too hard on you. Back then, when times were tough for everyone, I couldn’t bring myself to ask. Then when my poor brother fell ill, I couldn’t say anything either.” “Now that you’re doing well, it’s time to settle these accounts. I won’t ask for too much. Just pay me back based on the current value after the relocation compensation, and we’ll call it even.” Someone couldn’t stand it anymore and spoke up. “Zoe Walsh, what kind of person are you? You didn’t say a word all these years, and now that your brother is dead and not even buried yet, you’re forcing your nephew’s wife to pay up. What kind of logic is that?” Aunt Zoe shot back, “Mind your own business, Zhang! This is a family matter. It’s none of your concern!” Then she turned back to me and said, “I came to help as soon as your in-laws passed away. You’re a respectable person, daughter-in-law. Don’t try to weasel out of this debt!” By that time, I already knew about Zachary’s affair. Even at the funeral, we were like strangers, not exchanging a single word. Seeing Aunt Zoe’s greedy expression made me even more disgusted. “If you think Grandpa and Grandma shortchanged you back then, go ask them about it,” I said coldly. Aunt Zoe immediately became upset. She raised her voice at the funeral, “Everyone here knows that I got less than my fair share back then. My brother knew it too. Now he’s not even in the ground yet, and you’re already denying it!” Zack also got angry. “Sister-in-law, I’ve always been polite to you. Now that you and Zachary are doing well, you won’t even help out family? Not even paying back what you owe? What’s that about?” Zachary, who had been greeting guests outside, finally came in. He arrived just in time to hear these words. “Debt? What debt? Do you have any evidence? Any IOUs? Haven’t I helped you before? You’re just a hopeless case, and you have the nerve to make a scene!” Zack immediately shouted back, “You helped me? You just look down on me. You have such a big company, but you only let me run errands. Meanwhile, you’re living the high life and even keeping a mistress!” Under the watchful eyes of the onlookers, Zachary’s face turned ashen. Seeing that her son was about to derail the conversation, Aunt Zoe quickly handed over that tattered notebook. “How can you say there’s no evidence? Look, look at this. I’ve kept a detailed record of everything over the years, down to the smallest items. It’s been so hard on me.” “Besides, according to the law, I have inheritance rights to my brother and sister-in-law’s property.” I was really tired of dealing with the Walsh family’s nonsense. I replied, “If you want to talk about the law, then go through the legal process. The company was started by Zachary and me together, and we’re both still alive. Where do you get inheritance rights from?” “If you’re talking about inheriting from my in-laws, they’re lying in coffins right behind us. Go wake them up and have them give you whatever you want. I won’t interfere with their belongings. Whatever they say to give you, I’ll give you.” “As for you saying Grandpa and Grandma gave you less back then, go find the elders who were present when the family divided the assets and have them redistribute everything. I have no objections to that either.” The people around us were trying to hide their smiles. My in-laws were dead, and the grandparents and elders who had been present at the family division had long since passed away. “If you’re not satisfied, then sue me. I have plenty of money to hire lawyers and fight you in court. If I lose the case, I’ll pay whatever the court decides!” Aunt Zoe burst into tears and ran to hug my father-in-law’s coffin. “Brother, you’ve just left us, and your son and daughter-in-law are already disowning me. They’re ganging up to bully us. How did I end up with such a miserable life…” Aunt Zoe’s wailing was giving everyone a headache. I decided I’d done my part and got up to leave. After all, I had a clear conscience. Zachary grabbed my arm. “Where are you going? We still need to send my parents off on their final journey.” At that moment, Aunt Zoe was inside, wailing and cursing, “That woman in your family is cold-hearted. No wonder her husband went out to find a mistress.” Zachary looked a bit embarrassed. I laughed coldly. “Where am I going? To rest, of course! I just didn’t want to argue with you at the funeral today.” “For everything else, go find your mistress and deal with it together!” With that, I went home. I heard from relatives later that Zachary really did bring Sophie Jenkins over. When I heard this news, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. I completely ignored it, just focused on taking inventory of our assets and organizing the company shares. I disappointed many people who were hoping to see me make a fool of myself. Similarly, Zachary’s behavior made many of his business partners refuse to work with him anymore, or at least give him a hard time behind the scenes. Only then did Zachary start to behave himself a bit more. So I’ve long known what this family is like. Zack coming to visit me today was definitely up to no good. Hearing my unfriendly tone, Zack put on an angry face. “Don’t be so stubborn. You know what you did. If you still want to live comfortably as a rich woman, you’d better listen to me and give me what I’m owed.” “Keep dreaming. I’ll say it again: if you want to sue, I’ll see you in court.” Zack suddenly gave a strange smile and said in a low voice, “I saw it, you know!” I laughed, exasperated. Zack and Zachary were cut from the same cloth—one a gambler, one a womanizer. I must have been crazy to waste my breath talking to him. “Bang!” I slammed the door in his face. Soon after, I heard cursing from outside the door. “Damn it! Rachel Quinn, you murderer! You’ll regret this! I’m going to report you!” Not long after, I was called to the police station again. But unlike the previous polite conversation, this time I got the treatment that suspects in TV shows usually get. “Rachel Quinn, we’ve received a report that you killed Zachary Walsh. Do you have anything to say about this?” Detective Thompson asked. This time, Detective Thompson and the scowling young officer, Detective Wilson, were questioning me. “A report? Was it Zack Walsh who reported it? He’s just a gambler who would do anything for money. You can’t trust what he says.” I looked at them. “Besides, you don’t have any evidence, and you haven’t issued an arrest warrant. I could sue you for unlawful detention.” Detective Thompson suddenly said, “You probably don’t know yet. We found Zachary Walsh’s body.” Detective Wilson said sarcastically and triumphantly, “We’ve seen plenty of people like you. You’d better tell us everything. Don’t try to hide anything!” The person who reported it wasn’t Zack Walsh. At that time, he was just making threats outside my door. Linjiang Reservoir used to be Linjiang Village. Ten years ago, the government relocated us villagers to Linjiang City to build the reservoir. The villagers and graves were all moved, and the original site became the reservoir area. Well, not all the graves were moved. Many young people from the village had gone to work in big cities. When they made it big, they brought their elderly parents to live with them in the cities. They were too busy with work to move the family graves, so they just swore they would come back every year to tend to the graves. But how could they tend to graves at the bottom of a reservoir? The young people had no choice but to learn how to scuba dive. This year, a young man brought his wife to dive and pay respects to his ancestors. When they went down, they saw Zachary Walsh’s body floating in the water. This news spread quickly. Combined with people hearing about Zack Walsh coming to my door to make a scene, someone reported me and had me arrested. Of course, the two officers didn’t have the kindness to tell me these details. At this point, I didn’t know where exactly the body had been found. “I thought Zack Walsh would keep using this to extort money from me. I didn’t expect him to report it to the police so quickly. If he had been this decisive before, he might have made his fortune already.” Detective Wilson frowned, seeming to want to say something, but Detective Thompson stopped him. “So you admit that you killed Zachary Walsh, right?” “Yes,” I smiled and asked them for a cigarette, slowly confessing the process. After we relocated, Zachary and I used the money to start a small business, contracting landscaping work for residential communities one by one. When the business became somewhat successful, Zachary liked to go fishing at Linjiang Reservoir. His favorite spot was a hill that used to be popular with kids in the old Linjiang Village. This hill used to overlook the entire Linjiang Village, but now it only saw water. He particularly liked this place. Only the Walsh family knew about this. So when Sophie Jenkins called me, I knew Zachary would definitely come to this spot to fish. That’s why what I said earlier about not seeing Zachary was a lie. I did see him, and we got into an argument. That day, he seemed strange, not feeling well, chewing on something in his mouth. When we were arguing, he bit down and swallowed it. Usually, when we argued, it would end up in a physical fight, leaving both of us bruised and battered. But that day, after we pushed each other a few times, he got impatient and turned away, seeming unwilling to fight with me. Zachary said to me, “When I wanted a divorce before, didn’t you drag it out? Now you want a divorce? Well, I’m going to drag it out. I won’t divorce you!” I said, “Zachary Walsh, you bastard. You cheated on me, and your whole family kept it from me. I was in the dark, taking care of your parents. Now I’m done with this, and you won’t sign the divorce papers. How can you do this? Aren’t you afraid of karmic retribution?” Zachary gloated, “The one who can’t have children is you. Let me tell you, I’ve got a mistress now. In a few months, I’ll have a son. I’ll bring them to live wherever you live. Wherever you move, we’ll move there too!” I was shaking with anger, hating him. “I can’t have children because of whom? I’ll ask you one last time! Are you really not going to sign the papers? Even if we go to court?” He laughed loudly, “You’ve tried taking me to court before, haven’t you? Did the judge grant the divorce? If you take me to court again, I’ll admit my mistakes, I’ll repent, I’ll beg you not to divorce me in front of the judge. You still won’t be able to divorce me! Hahaha!” Zachary finished laughing and said, “This is all because you’re greedy. If it weren’t for the fact that you took such good care of my parents, I wouldn’t even let you keep the house you’re living in now. Since you’re so insatiable, you can leave with nothing!” My anger had reached its peak, and I suddenly felt calm. I looked at him coldly, all the love and feelings I once had for him when we struggled together were gone. Time and again, I watched this man become more and more shameless and unfamiliar. He turned his head and sat on a small stool to fish, not looking at me, seemingly certain that I would leave after our argument like before. But this time, I didn’t. I picked up the fishing rod that had fallen to the ground during our scuffle and hit him hard on the head. Zachary fell to the ground. I threw the rod into the reservoir and turned to leave. When I got home, the first thing I did was find a good lawyer and ask for legal advice. “At that time, I wasn’t sure if he was alive or dead. Indeed, one shouldn’t do things that weigh on their conscience. I never imagined this scene would be witnessed by Zack Walsh. If I were him, I would have reported it to the police directly instead of hiding the body to blackmail me. If I go to jail, wouldn’t all the money be his?” I finished recounting the process of the incident to the two officers while smoking my third cigarette. I thought about how I had wasted my life on this scumbag, and it really wasn’t worth it. Detective Thompson stood up. “We understand the process of what happened. Next, we will charge you with intentional injury.” I was stunned for a moment, not understanding why it was intentional injury and not murder. Zachary had drowned, which meant that after Zack Walsh discovered this, he went to check on Zachary’s condition after I left. Zachary wasn’t dead; he had just passed out. After considering for a while, Zack dragged Zachary into the bushes, waiting for him to die there. That’s why he didn’t dare to report it to the police and wouldn’t have reported it. “If the case could be closed like this, that would be for the best,” Detective Miller sighed deeply. Detective Edwards continued, “According to Zack Walsh’s statement, he only ignored Zachary’s death and didn’t push him into the water.” “Moreover, he said he knew Zachary was there because Sophie Jenkins told him.” Detective Wilson asked, “Could he be lying?” “We did find an abandoned phone at the scene where Zachary was killed, and there were multiple missed calls from Sophie Jenkins on it. If it was just a normal drowning, we could consider that Zachary woke up and fell into the lake due to a concussion. Sigh!” “We need to be rigorous in our investigation,” Detective Thompson, with years of criminal investigation experience, tapped the table to remind everyone not to let their thoughts wander too much. “There are still things we haven’t discovered about this case. First, where did Zachary’s fishing gear go? Second, who pushed Zachary into the reservoir? And third, the time of death.” At this moment, the forensic expert pushed open the door. “The time of death is here!” He handed the report to everyone. “There’s also an interesting thing. There were remnants of sleeping pills and undigested preserved plums in the victim’s stomach.”

I didn’t expect to be summoned for questioning again so soon. At this time, my lawyer was explaining to me how to defend myself. “Ms. Quinn, do you know what Zachary Walsh ate on the day of the incident?” Detective Thompson asked. I found this question strange. “To be honest, by that point in our relationship, I wouldn’t have cared if he ate dirt.” “Did you bring him anything to eat?” I was even more puzzled. “Putting aside why I would bring him anything, do you think he would eat anything I gave him?” “You like to eat preserved plum candy, don’t you? If Zachary had invited you to talk things over and brought you candy, would you have eaten it?” I sighed deeply. I don’t like preserved plum candy, but if he had come to talk things over properly, I probably would have. They let me go again. The source of the sleeping pills was found. It was in the preserved plum candy that Zachary ate before he left. According to Sophie Jenkins’ statement, she had made the candy by hand. Zachary had asked her to make it, intending for me to eat it. He had told her to put it in any food. Recently, Zachary had bought a large accidental death insurance policy for me, which was one of the reasons he was unwilling to divorce. Sophie thought this man was truly terrifying, wanting to kill his wife when their relationship had broken down. But Sophie couldn’t disobey him. When she first realized she had been tricked, she wanted to have an abortion and leave. But Zachary wouldn’t allow it. He threatened her with her private photos. Sophie’s reputation among Zachary’s family and friends was already bad, which was the result of Zachary’s threats. But back in her hometown, her parents still took pride in her. So she had no choice but to endure. So she put sleeping pills in the homemade preserved plum candy. Because she was pregnant and craving sour and sweet things, it wouldn’t arouse Zachary’s suspicion. When Zachary drove alone to go fishing, Sophie called to sweet-talk him into eating the candy. She hoped Zachary would have an accident on the way due to the effects of the drug. Because if anything happened to Zachary, she wouldn’t have to live with a guilty conscience. If Zachary died, that would be even better. She wouldn’t have to endure a despicable man without dignity, wouldn’t have to worry about being controlled without financial freedom, work freedom, or social freedom, and wouldn’t have to constantly fear being abandoned when she had nothing. She casually told Zack Walsh that Zachary would come into some money soon, and informed him of Zachary’s recent schedule. Zack Walsh, who had no money and was deeply in debt, would definitely go find Zachary. This way, he would be the first to discover Zachary, whether alive or dead. No matter what state Zachary was in, Zack Walsh would notify her. Because notifying her might get him money, but notifying me would definitely not get him any money. But what she didn’t expect was that Zachary disappeared. So Sophie lived in constant fear and anxiety, waiting for judgment. She was afraid he was alive, and afraid he was dead. She was worried that not reporting it would make her suspicious, so she was the first to file a police report, and desperately tried to frame me. Because she knew that no matter whether Zack Walsh went to find Zachary or not, I would definitely go. Sophie was also charged with responsibility. When I heard this news, I laughed coldly but didn’t say much. But the case wasn’t over yet. Both Sophie and I had motives, but according to our statements, neither of us committed the crime. Because Zachary didn’t just drown; there was more to it.

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On my birthday, I was lying at home with a high fever while my girlfriend was at the hospital, carefully tending to her depressed ex-boyfriend. She coldly hung up on my call and sent a message, “Why are you pretending to be sick? You’re a grown man.” After three years of marriage, she was attentive to her ex but indifferent to me, her husband. Later, I finally realized that a woman whose heart you can’t warm should be let go. I chose divorce and even tried to bring them together. But she regretted it and spent a night crouched outside my door, just begging me to look at her one more time. “You know Ethan is very fragile right now. Why did you lie to me about coming home?” Olivia’s voice was filled with impatience over the phone. “And you say you have a high fever? How can a grown man like you get sick so easily? Can you stop being so childish?” I could almost imagine her expression of disgust, disdain, and even contempt. Breathing heavily, I endured the pain throughout my body. I was full of anger, but when I opened my mouth, I felt like I couldn’t say anything. What’s the use of saying anything anyway? “You’ve really disappointed me. I’m not coming home tonight, that’s final!” The call was disconnected. She’s doing it again, planning to stay at the hospital to take care of him all night. Then she’ll sleep by his hospital bed, waiting for his every command. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes at the hospital, I probably wouldn’t have believed that my wife was at the hospital every day taking care of another man. Even the nurses were moved by it. When they showed me the way, they introduced them as the most loving and faithful couple they’d ever seen. This is too ridiculous! Thinking about this, I weakly put down my phone and lay on the living room floor, staring blankly at the ceiling light. It was a bit dazzling. In my daze, I remembered our wedding day, when she held Ethan’s hand with red eyes. I saw her abandoning me during our dates to comfort him when he was in a bad mood. And on countless nights, her body would shy away as soon as I got close. She said she was very traditional and a bit afraid of such things, that we needed to take it slow. Even now, we still haven’t made any progress. In our relationship, she’s always held the upper hand. Whether we’re close or distant depends entirely on her mood. The fever made my head hot, my thoughts were in disarray. In my confusion, I lost consciousness. When I woke up again, I felt sore all over. Fortunately, the fever had subsided. After a quick shower, I felt like I had regained some energy, but I was still weak. I called in sick to work. My usually strict boss told me to rest well and take care of my health. I was a bit surprised. Just then, the door opened. Olivia came home looking slightly tired. Seeing that I wasn’t seriously ill, she said mockingly, “Weren’t you sick?” I ignored her sarcasm and just took a sip of warm water, enjoying the feeling of new life. “Cat got your tongue?” Seeing that I didn’t speak, she crossed her arms, looking like she was waiting for an explanation. “Let’s get a divorce.”

“Fine.” Olivia was stunned for a moment, but then agreed without hesitation. I saw a flash of anger on her face and instantly understood her thoughts. She probably thought I was just using another way to threaten her. “Alright, I’ll bring back the divorce papers this afternoon.” After saying this, I changed clothes and left. It turns out, saying it out loud wasn’t difficult. I thought I would feel reluctant, angry, or unwilling to let go. But the moment I actually said it, I felt relieved. Olivia just sat on the couch playing with her phone, not responding to me at all. She just treated it as one of my usual tantrums. After leaving, I bought breakfast and went to the nearest hospital. My father-in-law was currently hospitalized there, and for this period, my mother-in-law and I had been taking turns caring for him. Coincidentally, my company had been particularly busy lately. Every day, besides working overtime, I had to go to the hospital after work to relieve my exhausted mother-in-law. It was non-stop. This routine had continued for a month. Olivia remained indifferent. Not only that, but I was also paying for the expensive medical bills. Olivia’s entire salary was spent on finding psychologists for Ethan. She never had any money left over, and it was good enough that she didn’t ask me for more. I had talked to her about her father’s medical expenses, but she thought I was threatening her. Last night it rained, and to save some money on a taxi, I trudged home in the rain. Combined with the continuous fatigue, my body finally gave in to illness. “Having a son-in-law like you is truly our blessing.” “My wife and I have discussed it. We’ve seen all you’ve done these past days. You’re a good kid, much better than Olivia. We’ve decided to entrust our savings to you.” Hearing my father-in-law say this, I paused while peeling an apple, and quickly refused. In the past, if I could get the support of my in-laws, I would have been overjoyed and unable to sleep. Would their approval improve my relationship with Olivia? I thought about it carefully, but this hypothesis didn’t make me feel joyful. Strangely, I only felt pressure. “Little Ning isn’t really busy, is she? You’ve been lying to us all along. Is she at the hospital looking after that guy again?” Suddenly, my father-in-law sighed. I remained silent, not knowing how to answer. The day my father-in-law was hospitalized, I told Olivia, but she said Ethan was at a critical point and she couldn’t leave. She asked me to take care of her father more. “Look, her own father is sick and she doesn’t care, but she’s looking after some other man!” “How can I trust her with money?” Seeing that I didn’t speak, my father-in-law gave a bitter smile. In the end, I still refused and didn’t mention the divorce. As I was leaving the hospital, I saw Olivia’s social media post. The photo showed two hands tightly clasped in front of a green plant, with the caption “If we persevere together, we can surely thrive like this plant and overcome all difficulties.” I knew those were her and Ethan’s hands. In the past, I would have angrily called her and questioned her. Then she would describe me with words like petty and narrow-minded. Back then, seeing me angry and frustrated, she must have found it laughable, like a child fighting for attention, childish and annoying. But now I didn’t feel anything. I even found it a bit funny. Come to think of it, they really do look like a couple now. Since I’m so redundant, I might as well step out.

I brought the divorce papers home, but the house was empty. I was used to it. In the past, I would have argued with her for not coming home often. At first, she would explain, saying she had to attend dinners or team-building events. Later, she simply remained silent or casually said it was nothing. Now I think this is quite good, not bothering each other. I sent Olivia a message, then threw the signed divorce papers on the coffee table. Counting the days, it had been a long time since I visited my mom. Since my dad passed away, she’s been living alone in an old house in the suburbs. I realized that when I stopped revolving around Olivia, I had a lot more free time. And I had also neglected my family a lot. It’s a good time to go see my mom. After I got home, my mom was overjoyed. “Why did you come alone? Where’s Olivia?” “Did you have fun yesterday?” I was stunned. Fun? “What, did you forget your birthday yesterday? I even called you, and you said you were out with Olivia.” Only then did I remember that I was busy with a project contract at work yesterday. I hurriedly answered my mom’s call and briefly brushed it off. I completely forgot about my birthday as soon as I hung up. I didn’t know how to answer, and I couldn’t explain. It turned out yesterday was my birthday. At least in previous years, Olivia and I would have a meal together. This year, it was completely forgotten. I thought I would feel disappointed and sad. But now that it’s brought up, I only feel guilty towards my mom. “You came back this time, is there any difficulty?” Fortunately, my mom didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she held my hand and asked with a smile. “Don’t worry, Mom has saved up some money for you. If anything’s wrong, just say it.” My eyes turned red, and I repeatedly said there was nothing wrong. I felt very guilty inside. How long had it been since I last came back? Before, every time I came to my mom, it seemed to be for money. Because Olivia never took care of the household, I had to be responsible for the mortgage and car loan, and the pressure was too great. That evening, I enjoyed the dinner very much. After eating, I watched some TV shows with my mom. We were happy and chatty. I hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time. Before, it was all for Olivia, I didn’t have my own life. And now, I can spend any amount of time with my mom. In the evening, I don’t have to make a table full of dishes waiting for her. I can spend an evening eating with my mom, watching dramas, listening to her talk about neighborhood stories. When I go home, I don’t have to think about how to ask for money. In the past, holidays had to fit her schedule. Now I can go wherever I want. Without Olivia, it turns out to be so relaxing and enjoyable. Until the next morning, when I was woken up by my mom’s coughing. When I found her, she was outside the front door, trying hard to cover her mouth, her face red as she coughed. “It’s nothing, just a small problem.” Seeing me come out, she forced a smile and said it was nothing, but the next second she couldn’t help but cough up a bloody phlegm. Without a word, I carried her on my back and took her to the hospital. The examination result: tuberculosis. Looking at my mom’s evasive eyes, I felt extremely heartbroken. The words of questioning that came to my lips turned into complaints, complaining that she didn’t tell me. “Mom is old, there’s no need to waste money on this kind of disease. You’re under so much pressure now, and you have your own family…” Mom seemed a bit embarrassed. I took a deep breath and, ignoring her refusal, forcibly arranged for the best doctor to consult her. When it came time to pay, I found that I didn’t have enough money. I paused for a moment, smiling bitterly as I explained to my mom that the money was with Olivia. But… “That money, it was all borrowed by Ethan for medical treatment. You’ll have to think of another way.” After hearing what I said, Olivia said lightly. As expected. I wasn’t surprised, and I was too lazy to argue with her. I just told her to remember to come home and sign the divorce papers. “Haven’t you had enough?” Her tone finally carried some anger, expressing her dissatisfaction. “I told you, I’m serious.” She still thought I was joking with her. This time, I hung up the phone first.

With no other choice, I went to my father-in-law’s house and told him the truth about my mother’s illness. My father-in-law, who had just been discharged from the hospital, gave me $10,000 without a word. I didn’t refuse, and after taking it, I was about to write an IOU. “The money you spent on our treatment, I’ve kept track of every penny. This is your own money.” My father-in-law refused. Before leaving, he asked about Olivia again. I thought the divorce couldn’t be hidden anyway, so I just told him straight. “What a mess…” I didn’t answer. After giving the money to the hospital, I stayed with my mom at the hospital. She sighed, saying we hadn’t spent so much time together in a long time. I felt extremely ashamed. During this time, Olivia called me to urge me to come home. “I’m not coming back tonight, that’s it.” I didn’t have the heart to talk to her much. After that, I didn’t answer any of her calls. I just chatted with my mom about traveling to relax after she recovered. It wasn’t until the next day, after I had confirmed the surgery date with the doctor and reassured my mom, that I went home. As soon as I got home, I saw Olivia sitting on the sofa with a dark face. “Signed it?” I directly bypassed her to look at the divorce agreement on the table. Unexpectedly, she snatched it first and tore it to pieces. “Enough, Luke. How long are you going to keep this up? Taking things to the point of divorce, just because I didn’t come home that day?” “When did you become so unreasonable? You weren’t like this before!” “Say something!” Olivia was in a rage. I just stood there silently looking at her. In the past, it was always me who was angry and irritable like this. Suddenly, I understood her a little. People who lose control of their emotions are really ugly. “Fine, I know what you mean.” Seeing that I didn’t speak, Olivia sneered and started to undress in front of me, moving very quickly. “What are you doing?” I stopped her. “I know you’re not satisfied with me going to take care of Ethan, but there’s nothing between us. I’m still pure. Now I’m giving myself to you, is that okay?” “You don’t need to refuse, this is my duty as a wife, isn’t it?” After saying this, she pushed away my hand and stubbornly continued to undress. I walked to the window and pulled the curtains. When I turned back, I found her looking at me mockingly: “What, you want to do it in the living room?”

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I broke up with Adrian Guthrie, receiving a $900,000 severance package, a Mercedes, and a condo in downtown Los Angeles. I never knew I was worth so much. After shipping a bunch of stuff back home, I headed to the train station with the designer bag Adrian had bought me just days before. I chose to take the train because I wanted to come full circle. Five years ago, I had arrived in LA by train from a small, nameless town up north, leading to my encounter with Adrian and our subsequent five-year arrangement. I deliberately bought a coach ticket, planning to enjoy the scenery along the way. It seemed fitting for this journey. But as the carriage filled with chatter and various accents, I couldn’t help but shed a tear, falling into deep reminiscence. After dropping out of high school, I had apprenticed at a local hair salon for over a year. Against my family’s wishes, I set off for LA with just $1,500, claiming I wanted to make something of myself. But at nineteen, I was too young and naive to understand the harshness of the world. If I hadn’t met Adrian, I probably wouldn’t have lasted five days before heading back home. As soon as I got off the train, I realized my phone was gone. Faced with the vastness of LA and the bustling streets, I helplessly crouched down and cried. I had less than $100 in cash on me, and my phone contained all my savings. Without it, I couldn’t even get back home. But crying wouldn’t solve anything. I took a cab to the nearest police station to file a report. The officer, seeing how pitiful I looked, let me stay at the station while they checked nearby surveillance cameras for clues. I knew the chances were slim. In such a crowded place, a skilled pickpocket could easily snatch a phone without being noticed. It was at the police station that I first met Adrian. He was there for a traffic incident, his tailored suit a stark contrast to the surroundings. We sat next to each other, me looking miserable, him expressionless. Seemingly bored, Adrian struck up a conversation. “What brings you here, little miss? In trouble?” I glanced at him, thinking I might have swooned if not for the circumstances. But as soon as I opened my mouth, I burst into tears. “My phone was stolen.” Adrian looked a bit flustered, quickly grabbing some tissues and handing them to me. “Oh, it’s not a big deal. Can’t your parents just buy you a new one?” This only made me cry harder. Perhaps I needed an outlet for my frustration, so I sobbed out my whole unfortunate story. I was crying so hard I started hiccupping. Adrian seemed a bit put off, inching away as if afraid I’d get snot and tears on his suit. “Young people need to face some setbacks,” he said. “When I was in my teens, I went to study in Europe with just a few hundred dollars. I lost it all and had to work part-time jobs for a year to make ends meet.” Looking at his expensive suit and designer watch, I figured he must be doing well now. His past hardships hadn’t been in vain. Just then, the officer handling my case returned with a shifty-looking middle-aged man and my phone. I don’t know how they caught him, but I was so happy I gave the officer a big hug before scurrying out of the station. In my excitement, I completely forgot about the man in the suit. Looking back, I regret not sneaking a photo – he was so handsome. I found a job as a hairstylist assistant through an online job board. They said I wasn’t qualified to be a full stylist yet, and the assistant position only paid $1,800 a month, but it included housing. In hindsight, I was lucky in my naivety. Not only did I get my phone back, but my first job was at a legitimate salon. I could have easily fallen prey to a scam or worse. After working there for about a month, I saw Adrian for the second time. He came to the salon for a haircut, still in his impeccable suit, driving a black Mercedes. I was assigned to wash his hair. He squinted at me, seeming to find me familiar but not quite placing me. After the wash, he suddenly pointed at me and said, “I want her to cut my hair.” “Mr. Guthrie, she’s new and might not be skilled enough yet,” the stylist said, looking worried. It would be a small matter if I messed up, but offending a customer would be a big deal. Adrian waved his hand, insisting. The stylist had no choice but to give me a “good luck” look. Halfway through the cut, Adrian suddenly said, “I remember you now. You were at the police station that day, weren’t you?” I felt incredibly awkward, not wanting my coworkers to know about the police station incident. We’d been working together for a while, and knowing too much could make things uncomfortable. Without thinking, I covered his mouth with my hand, smearing his face with hair clippings. Adrian’s face darkened. Realizing my mistake, I quickly apologized. How stupid of me! Perhaps seeing me in such a vulnerable state before made me unsure how to face him now. Or maybe it was just the classic Cinderella-meets-CEO moment meant to happen. Aside from my competitive coworkers, Adrian became the first person I grew familiar with in LA. I still don’t know how my silly self caught Mr. Guthrie’s eye back then. He asked me out on an ordinary evening as I was leaving work with my colleagues. I saw him leaning against his car, smoking. It was the same Mercedes, perfectly matching his aura. My coworkers nudged me, hinting that Adrian was there for me. But I stood frozen, my whole body stiff. At nineteen, I might have been young, but I wasn’t completely clueless. I could understand Adrian coming to the salon frequently for haircuts, but now he was waiting for me so blatantly. I could no longer ignore that strange feeling. Did he want to sleep with me? I was self-aware enough to know that besides my young, pretty face, I had little to offer him. Seeing that I wasn’t moving, Adrian stubbed out his cigarette and walked over, unceremoniously pushing me towards the car. “Come on, let’s go get dinner.” Under my colleagues’ burning gazes, I got into the Mercedes’ passenger seat. After driving for five minutes, I finally spoke up. “Do you… want to sleep with me?” As soon as I asked, my face felt like it was on fire. It was awkward to ask, but I had to. My parents were honest, hardworking people, and although I was a bit rebellious, I had never done anything too out of line. I hadn’t even liked anyone before. If I hadn’t met Adrian, my life would probably have been very ordinary. Maybe I’d go back home one day and marry some local guy, or maybe I’d stay in LA and keep working menial jobs. But I did meet Adrian, and even when I asked such a blunt question, he just glanced at me and nodded. Seeing my disbelieving look, he explained, “You’re cute and pretty. It’s not strange that I’d want something to happen between us, is it?” “But… no, let me out. I won’t do it,” I wanted to say so much. I felt it was insulting, but he was so straightforward that I found myself at a loss for words. “How about I become your sugar daddy? $15,000 a month,” Adrian said. This was even more shocking than a one-night stand. I couldn’t believe that I would be associated with the term “sugar baby.” But at that moment, I became surprisingly calm. Even now, five years later, I can’t remember exactly how I reacted. All I know is that by the time I came to my senses, I was sitting with Adrian in a restaurant, and I had agreed to his proposal. Maybe it was vanity, or maybe I had read too many romance novels. Under those conditions, it was hard not to be tempted. But after agreeing, I felt regretful. My parents hadn’t raised me to be someone’s mistress. But it was too late. For a long time afterward, I was torn between feeling that my actions were immoral and indulging in the lifestyle. I still remember that Adrian took me to eat hot pot that night. After dinner, he took me straight to his apartment. It wasn’t very big, just a two-bedroom, but I ended up living there for five years. He didn’t do anything that night, perhaps sensing my nervousness. He was even considerate enough to sleep in separate rooms. Later, when I asked him about it, he said, “You smelled like hot pot and had this ‘sacrificial lamb’ look on your face. You were even trembling when I held your hand. It completely killed the mood.” What he didn’t know was that even with his concession, I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The next day, after work, I moved my things into his apartment with his help. I stayed at the salon for another week before I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stand my colleagues’ looks and whispers. But I couldn’t deny it either – after all, I had indeed started an inappropriate relationship with Adrian, as they said. After quitting, I didn’t just sit around. Adrian gave me six months’ worth of money upfront, very generously. With $90,000 in my account, I didn’t know how to spend it, so I signed up for a bunch of classes – art, yoga, English, you name it. The reason I hadn’t continued my education before was due to my mediocre grades and rebellious attitude. Now, sitting down to study again, I found I had more patience. Adrian said, “Not bad, you know how to please your sugar daddy.” I pushed him away, annoyed. “I’m just bored. I’m rich now, you know. If I don’t spend it, it’ll just collect dust.” Adrian pressed me down on the couch, his breathing heavy. “Then how about pleasing your sugar daddy now?” I was still nervous, but I leaned in and kissed him on the lips, my attempts at seduction clumsy. Our first time wasn’t exactly great. I was too afraid of pain, so I started resisting and refusing as soon as he entered me. But with things already in motion, he couldn’t just stop, so we went through with it. Initially, he didn’t come every day. Sometimes it was every two weeks, sometimes every few days. We didn’t always have sex either. But when he discovered I couldn’t cook, he complained, “Damn, I’m paying all this money and getting nothing but sex in return. I’ve brought a freeloader into my home.” However, he didn’t force me to learn. When he came over, we’d order takeout or go out to eat. Occasionally, he’d cook. But since I was bored anyway, I decided to take some cooking classes too. The first time I cooked, I made four dishes. Three were disasters, and only the tomato and egg stir-fry was barely edible. It was my least favorite dish, but Adrian ate it happily, even mixing it with rice and finishing the small plate. He was being very polite. After eating, he grumbled, “You’re the real boss here,” and then went to make me a bowl of noodles. But my cooking skills improved quickly. My dishes went from looking okay to tasting okay, and eventually became delicious. I couldn’t compete with restaurant chefs, but I could handle home cooking just fine. When I first came to LA, I had a short, chin-length haircut that made me look cute and lively. By the time my hair reached my shoulders, Adrian and I had grown much closer. By the time I had long hair down to my waist, Adrian and I had become accustomed to each other. He would let me know if he wasn’t coming home at night, though he didn’t report his entire schedule. If he wasn’t coming back, he’d always say, “Lock the door and take care of yourself.” Aside from the monthly $15,000 deposit, I almost believed we were in a real relationship. Two years into our arrangement, Adrian’s family found me. It was his mother. When I got home one day, she was already sitting on the sofa, dressed in designer clothes and expensive jewelry. Adrian had shown me her photo before, so I recognized her immediately – a true socialite. I felt awkward and even scared, remembering scenes from novels where the rich mother throws money at the mistress and tells her to stay away from her son. I wondered if I should take the money and leave, or righteously declare, “I don’t want your dirty money. We’re in love!” But Adrian’s mother was different from what I had imagined. She just patted the sofa beside her, gesturing for me to sit down. She was even kind, you could say. “So you’re Mia? How long have you been with Adrian?” she asked. I felt exposed in front of her. “A little over two years,” I replied. She nodded, looking me over. “You are very pretty. No wonder Adrian comes here so often.” My face instantly turned red with embarrassment and guilt. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” She shook her head, smiling. “Don’t be nervous. I just wanted to meet you. I have no other intentions. After all, you’ve been with him for so long. I’m like half a parent to you.” It seemed she knew about our arrangement, referring to me being “with him” rather than us being “together.” This made me feel a bit relieved. “Adrian’s company is close by, so he often stays here,” I explained. His mother didn’t say anything more and left soon after, as if she really had just come to see me. It wasn’t until Adrian and I separated that I understood.

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He claimed it was just borrowing sperm, a simple transaction. Yet every holiday, I found myself with only half the gifts, forever the afterthought, the leftover. This isn’t just a secret; it’s a betrayal that her husband deserves to know. Because how can I ever find my true love if I remain shackled to the ghost of their deceit? Elena’s post hit like a slap in the face, but this slap came slow, deliberate, savoring every sting it left behind. The ultrasound was the centerpiece—a blurred, wriggling shadow growing inside her. And the caption—god, the caption—dripped with condescending sweetness. “Thank you to my dear Mike for lending me the gift I needed when I was most helpless. Soon, we’ll meet our little miracle.” As if Mike had merely donated a pen, a book—something insignificant. Not like he’d lent her sperm. My fingers hovered over the screen for what felt like an eternity. Every letter of my comment seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. “Congratulations to both of you,” I typed, my heart shattering with each word. And yet, as I hit send, it was as if I’d just let go of the last thread of dignity I had left. Mike’s voice came through like a thunderclap, full of fury and disdain. “I just lent my sperm to Elena, can you stop making a fuss?” The coldness in his voice had settled deep into my chest, numbing the ache that once throbbed there. It was clear—it’s time to let go. I placed my trembling hands over my slightly bulging belly. The life growing inside me was supposed to be our future,and I had planned to surprise Mike on our anniversary, imagining his face lighting up with joy. But now, that fantasy shattered before me. He didn’t deserve it—didn’t deserve us. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the baby inside me, my voice breaking. This was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter, a fresh start. Instead, it was a quiet farewell, to a life that could have been, and to a man who never truly cared. The dam inside me broke, and tears began to spill down my cheeks. Mike never wanted this, never wanted us. The intimacy between us had been hollow for years, each touch empty, each kiss colder than the last. That night, Mike came home early, something he rarely did. I heard him call my name from the hallway, his voice carrying a forced warmth that made my stomach turn. But I couldn’t answer him. I lay still in the bedroom, the silence between us thick, like an ocean of words unspoken. The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom, and with each drip, my heart sank deeper. The sound of the water stopped, and the door creaked open. In the darkness, I felt him—his presence as undeniable as the ache in my chest. He moved quietly, deliberately, like a shadow slipping into the room. I could hear his soft footsteps, the rustle of his clothes, but I refused to move, to acknowledge him. Then, out of nowhere, he was beside me, his arms wrapping around my waist. It was the first time in what felt like forever that he had reached for me, touched me as though I mattered. His warmth seeped through my thin pajamas, an unexpected and unsettling comfort. His body pressed against mine, but my heart was already miles away, frozen like stone. My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I kept my breath steady, unwilling to let him see the storm raging inside me. This sudden tenderness wasn’t love. It was a last gasp. “Wife, I lent my sperm just to help her fulfill a wish. I promise, as soon as she gives birth, I’ll end things with her completely.” The flattery in his tone, the pleading—it was hollow, like he was trying to plaster over a gaping wound with flimsy words. His voice shifted, the tone growing sharp, laced with impatience. “I’ve been so humble to please you, aren’t you satisfied?” “Don’t forget it was you,” he continued, his words biting, “You said you want to be with me no matter who I had been with.” “I could have kept it from you, but I told you out of respect, and now you’ve really disappointed me.” . “Think carefully about how I’ve treated you recently,” his voice laced with frustration. “You want a child, and I’ve tried my best to accommodate you.” With that, he slammed the door, the echo of it reverberating through the room, leaving me gasping for air, drowning in the suffocating darkness. Mike had disappeared before dawn, vanishing like a ghost, leaving the house cold and empty. I was alone, and the weight of it crushed me. The silence was unbearable, and a part of me knew—I deserved this. I had allowed myself to fall so deeply into this trap, to believe in a love that had long since withered. The phone rang several times, and I reluctantly answered. It was John, one of Mike’s colleagues, expressing concern with a kindness I couldn’t even register. But in his well-meaning words, he let something slip. Mike hadn’t been at work recently. He’d been with her—taking care of Elena. My heart shattered, but I had no time to let the pain consume me. I dragged myself to the hospital, every step heavy with dread, knowing what I had to do. I couldn’t bring this child into a world where love didn’t exist, where the only thing waiting for us was abandonment and betrayal. The abortion was quick. Too quick. Ten minutes was all it took for the life inside me to be erased. When they wheeled me out, I felt hollow, like a shell of the person I used to be. My face was pale, my hands trembling as I numbly handed over my credit card to pay the bill.

But fate, cruel as ever, wasn’t finished with me. As I turned to leave, I saw him. Mike. Standing there, holding Elena by the shoulders, his face twisted in anger. He spotted me before I could slip away, and in an instant, his expression darkened. “Are you following me?” he barked, his voice filled with accusation, as though I were the one intruding on his life, as if I were the problem here. My body still ached from the procedure, my heart even more so. Instead of answering Mike, I turned my gaze to Elena. She shifted uncomfortably under my stare. But rather than confronting the weight of the moment, she feigned anger, pulling Mike’s ear playfully, her voice dripping with insincerity. “How can you talk like that? Why would Mary follow us? We’re open and honest with each other, and it’s not like Mary doesn’t understand.” All I could manage was a bitter smile, tinged with the sharp taste of irony. “Yes, what does it have to do with me if you and your wife come for a prenatal checkup? Why would I follow you?” But Mike’s anger flared, and his voice sliced through the tension. “What do you mean? I only regard Elena as my sister!”

3 Elena’s eyes glinted with mischief as she accused Mike, her voice dripping with mock outrage. “How could you do that?!” she yelled, but that sly smile gave her away. A wave of nausea hit me, and I leaned heavily against the wall, gritting my teeth against the pain. Suddenly, she collapsed dramatically onto the ground, clutching her stomach and wailing, “I can’t believe this is happening!” The absurdity of her antics clashed with my suffering, amplifying the tension as I struggled to rise, feeling utterly betrayed by the chaos swirling around me. “Mike, don’t!” I wanted to scream, but the words lodged in my throat as he rushed to Elena’s side, leaving me behind. “If anything happens to Elena, I will never forgive you!” he shouted, his voice echoing in my ears like a death knell. A cold sweat broke out across my skin as pain coursed through me, each pulse feeling like a knife cutting deeper. “I’m even more glad I didn’t have this child,” I thought bitterly, irony and sadness twisting in my chest. “How can a man who doesn’t even love his wife truly love her child?” When I finally made it home, my hands trembled as I reached for my phone, desperate to pour out my resentment and pain. But then I saw it—Elena’s post. The image of Mike’s back loomed like a shadow, the caption cutting deep: “With a man who loves me like this, I feel safe.” Jorge’s comments stung like venom, each word dripping with disdain. “You’ve been with Elena for so many years, and everyone knows you can’t let go, so why don’t you follow your heart?” His sarcastic tone ignited a fire in me, fanning the flames of my anger. I couldn’t hold it back any longer; my fingers flew over the screen as I typed, “We’re getting divorced soon. I can’t believe you’ve been worrying about Mike for all these years.” As I hit send, a surge of satisfaction coursed through me, washing away the weight of unspoken grievances. Then, I opened my Moments and selected two pictures, one of which was a pregnancy report, and the other was a miscarriage report. A complex emotion surged in my heart, and I typed: “Finally I can be free.” At that moment, it seemed that all the repression and pain were released in this sentence.

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I’m Sweet and Kind in Front of My Boyfriend, But Vicious and Cunning to His Sister I subtly turned this family upside down. Eventually, I drove his sister to jump off a building. In the bitter winter, her crimson blood seeped into the pristine snow. It looked exactly like the scene when my sister died years ago. This was the first time Ryan brought me to meet his parents. Looking at the upscale neighborhood before me, I nervously tugged at his sleeve and asked, “What if your parents don’t like me?” Ryan ruffled my hair reassuringly. “My parents aren’t that picky. Don’t worry, I’m here with you.” With that, he held my hand tightly and walked in. Having lived as a dependent for years, I was adept at reading people’s reactions. I could sense that Ryan’s parents were quite satisfied with me, especially when they saw the gifts I brought. They couldn’t stop praising my thoughtfulness. Ryan chimed in at the right moment: “Dad, Aria knew you’re into tech research, so she specifically bought you the latest Alienware laptop.” “Mom, this bag is from Aria’s business trip to Europe. She went to five different streets to get this new release. It’s not even available in the States yet.” Emma, however, looked at the clothes in her hands and asked confusedly, “What brand is this? Where’s the label?” I explained, “Emma, I heard from your brother that you’ve been into qipaos recently. As I studied fashion design, I thought I’d make one for you myself.” Of course, I had chosen ordinary silk fabric that only cost a few dollars wholesale. Emma frowned slightly, clearly unimpressed. “What’s with that attitude?” Ryan, displeased with his sister’s reaction, spoke up to defend me. “Aria stayed up several nights to make this dress for you. She even hurt her hands!” Emma glanced at her parents’ expensive gifts, then at the cheap item in her hands. She pursed her lips but said nothing more. That night, I deliberately ate two bowls of rice, my stomach aching from being overly full. Yet, I maintained a smile on my face, praising the deliciousness of the meal. “No wonder Ryan grew so tall. It’s not just Mr. Parker’s excellent genes, but also Mrs. Parker’s superb cooking skills.” Mrs. Parker was very pleased with this comment, beaming from ear to ear. She paused for a moment, then added regretfully, “But now Ryan rarely comes home, and Emma is always on about dieting. If only they were like you, I’d have more motivation to cook.” I smiled wryly. “Ryan is just too busy with work, it can’t be helped. But why is Emma on a diet? She’s already so thin! If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to resist Mrs. Parker’s delicious food. Who cares about gaining weight? Health is what matters.” “Exactly! Well said!” Hearing this, Mrs. Parker pointed at Emma, who was flipping through a magazine, and complained, “Look at you, you don’t know how good you have it!” Emma’s face darkened, and she gave me a meaningful look. She wasn’t angry because of the scolding, but because I wasn’t the one being scolded. I smiled. This was nothing compared to what was coming. I’ll never forget that winter night ten years ago. My older sister leaped from the rooftop like a desperate, broken-winged bird, shattering into pieces, her body a bloody mess. She died tragically, but resolutely. That image was etched deep into my bones, leaving me utterly hopeless. It turns out that when people are in extreme pain, they remain silent, unable to make any sound at all. At that moment, I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. I stared blankly as the glaring red gradually became covered by the pristine white snow. My hand loosened, and the bag of candied chestnuts fell to the ground. A few rolled out, crushed under the panicked crowd’s feet, as if they were crushing someone else’s entire life. After our parents died in a car accident, our uncle took responsibility for caring for me and my sister, conveniently taking the compensation money as well. The two sisters lived under someone else’s roof, enduring cold stares. Fortunately, we were both diligent, always at the top of our class. My sister often told me to hang in there, promising that she would give me the best life in the future, and we wouldn’t have to swallow our pride and endure others’ contempt anymore. But for some reason, her grades started plummeting from her junior year of high school. In the end, unable to bear the pressure, she committed suicide by jumping off a building. At the time, this incident even made it to the newspapers, with the theme of caring for the mental health of teenagers. But I always felt something was off. My sister rarely came home as she lived in the school dorms. Her belongings were reluctantly packed up from her dorm room by our aunt and uncle. They put her things in a box. Aunt wouldn’t let me touch it, saying it was unlucky. She was hesitant to throw it away but also fearful of keeping it, so she ended up locking it in the attic. A year later, when I graduated from middle school, my uncle’s family of three went on vacation during the summer break, leaving me the key and telling me to watch the house. I took the opportunity to open the attic door, found the box, and discovered my sister’s diary. It was filled with detailed records of her being bullied. Some of the writing was blurred by tears, but it couldn’t hide the horrifying experiences. It was as if I had opened Pandora’s box. My hands couldn’t stop shaking. The culprit was Emma Parker. She wasn’t from a wealthy family, but her family was well-off. She was pretty and always had a group of followers who obeyed her every command. My sister had excellent grades, but because of her aloof personality and a birthmark on her face, she inexplicably became Emma’s target and a source of amusement during her reckless years. Emma and her gang cornered my sister in the bathroom, stripped her clothes off, and took photos to blackmail her into keeping quiet. In the dorm room, Emma tied up my sister’s hands and feet, gagged her, wrapped her in a quilt, and beat her. Apparently, this was a method used by prison inmates to bully newcomers. It was very painful but didn’t leave visible marks. Emma never tired of it, constantly coming up with new ways to torment her. Putting thumbtacks in her shoes, throwing her backpack in the pool, pouring drinks on her bed… Teenage girls are like apples on early autumn branches, slightly sour but sweet, waiting to ripen and fall. But if a worm gets in, and isn’t removed in time, the rot will only spread until the fruit completely withers. Emma was that worm. Finally, my sister couldn’t take it anymore and sought help from a teacher. But her classmates all said Emma was cheerful and generous, and had never bullied anyone. The matter was dismissed. Things seemed to calm down for a while. Little did we know, it was just the calm before the avalanche. One night, as my sister was dozing off, she was suddenly tied up and gagged. When the lights came on, it was Emma’s sweet yet vicious smile. Her followers surrounded them. Emma held an electric shaver in her hand. The buzzing sound was like a demon’s whisper, beating against every nerve in my sister’s scalp. Chunks of black hair fell, stripping away her last shred of dignity. Emma stroked my sister’s bald head, very satisfied. But it wasn’t over. She produced a thick iron chain from somewhere and put it around my sister’s neck, laughing wildly, boasting that this was her pet dog. Then she took out her phone and video called her brother. The camera was pointed at my sister. The siblings critiqued my sister’s appearance, their words like cold knives stabbing into her organs. Through the screen, my sister heard Ryan’s deep, contemptuous voice. He said, “What an obedient dog. I’ve taken a screenshot, I’ll share it with the boys.” “Wait,” Emma added, “Bro, I have even better photos here, the kind where she’s not wearing anything. I’ll send them to you.” She looked at my sister, raising her eyebrows triumphantly: “I warned you before not to talk nonsense, but you were just too disobedient.” The mocking laughter never ceased, successfully breaking down my sister’s last psychological defense. After that, rumors spread throughout the class, saying she was dirty, so dirty that she had lice in her hair. Everyone avoided her, building an invisible wall three feet away, standing on top of it to point and whisper. Even the places she walked and the things she used had to be sprayed with disinfectant. She started having frequent nightmares, couldn’t rest well, her grades plummeted, and she often had hallucinations, her mental state becoming abnormal. I remember when my sister came home one weekend, she looked at me quietly, her bright eyes clearly reflecting my image. At that moment, it was as if I was her entire world. I froze and asked, “Sis… where’s your hair?” “It was so itchy, itchy to the point that my heart and lungs were burning with discomfort, so I shaved it off.” She caressed my cheek with a loving expression. I was about to say something when I heard our aunt’s impatient voice from the living room: “Which one of you is going out to buy groceries? Two extra mouths to feed out of nowhere, and not a bit of consideration!” Hearing this, my sister smiled at me gently, took out five dollars, and said, “You go. And buy a bag of candied chestnuts while you’re at it. I know you’ve been craving them.” “Okay, we’ll eat them together when I get back!” I ran hurriedly, wanting to come back and have a good heart-to-heart with my sister. Little did I know, that would be our final goodbye. I never forgot Emma Parker. Nor did I forget her brother who aided and abetted her. Apparently, he was the campus heartthrob at his university. I found his photo on the school website and learned about his post-graduation whereabouts from the forum. I closely followed his social media accounts and went to great lengths to guess his preferences. In my junior year of college, I interned at Ryan’s company, deliberately getting close to him, creating an image of a Mary Sue protagonist from a poor background, orphaned, but excellent in academics and working part-time jobs, refusing to bow to fate. Little did he know, I was following a revenge script. I was pretty, smart, and had a good personality. I quickly caught Ryan’s attention and made him actively pursue me. I didn’t love him, so I could also keep him in check. In the second year of our relationship, I proposed breaking up, saying I had fallen for someone else. Ryan didn’t believe it. He started following me. When I returned to the old neighborhood and deliberately provoked my aunt to get angry, deliberately forcing her to lay hands on me, with my cries echoing in the alley, Ryan kicked the door open. He played the role of a hero saving the damsel in distress. At that time, I was covered in bruises. I bit my lip, tears in my eyes, looked at him, and said word by word: “You should go. I don’t want to drag you down.” I had practiced this expression in front of the mirror countless times, not missing a single detail. Even the loose strands of hair falling on my forehead added a touch of beauty to the scene. Pitiful and helpless. Like a desperate and helpless little deer. Ryan’s eyes were full of heartache. He reached out and hugged me, saying firmly: “Don’t say such nonsense. As long as I’m here, no one can bully you.” I buried my face in his chest, the corners of my mouth slightly curled up. The fish had taken the bait. Later, that sentence would come true for Emma. That night, there was a heavy rainstorm with thunder and lightning. I stayed at Ryan’s place. The next day, however, I found a qipao in the kitchen trash can, cut to pieces. My shoulders trembled slightly, and I looked at Emma in disbelief. She explained nervously: “I didn’t cut it! I just threw…” Her voice trailed off. Emma lowered her head guiltily. She had never liked the gift and didn’t think much of me, so she was naturally eager to throw it away. At the time, the qipao was still covered by a pile of fruit peels and paper scraps. I had secretly dug it out in the middle of the night and cut it to pieces myself. Ryan shouted angrily at Emma: “You’ve gone too far! No manners at all!” Hmph, manners? The pot calling the kettle black. I suppressed the cold mockery in my heart, my eyes slightly red, head lowered, and said to Emma in an almost humble tone: “I’m sorry, I didn’t consider it properly this time. I’ll get you something else next time, as an apology.” Ryan was extremely distressed. He put his arm around me and said angrily: “What apology? If anything, she should be apologizing to you!” Mrs. Parker was also disappointed: “Child, how come you’re getting more and more ill-mannered as you grow up? It was Aria’s heartfelt gift after all!” Emma was stunned, feeling wronged. Under Ryan’s stern rebuke, she very reluctantly apologized to me. On the way back, Ryan looked guilty: “Emma has been spoiled by the family, doing whatever she wants. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I shook my head: “This little grievance is nothing to me. Besides, your sister is just a bit spoiled, but she’s not bad-hearted. Ryan, you don’t need to blame her too much.” Ryan stroked my cheek, his eyes filled with even more guilt. After that, I often visited Mrs. Parker. I was always courteous and never empty-handed. When she cooked, I helped cut vegetables. After meals, I took the initiative to wash dishes. I found various ways to praise her culinary skills, invited her to go shopping and watch plays on weekends, shared trivial matters around me, and health tips I saw online. From time to time, I would sigh: “It feels so good to have a mom around.” Every time Mrs. Parker heard this, she couldn’t help but sigh, then hold my hand affectionately and say, “Aria, from now on, you’re a member of the Parker family.” I’m not stupid. I’m not Mrs. Parker’s child, how could she truly care about me? She was just too lonely. Ryan and Emma had grown up and had their own lives. Mr. Parker was a university professor, always either writing papers or doing experiments. Mrs. Parker was getting on in years, with no friends and no social life. She just hoped to have someone to keep her company. Occasionally when we went shopping and met sweet-talking salespeople, they would enthusiastically praise: “Ma’am, you’re so blessed. Your daughter is beautiful and filial, buying you so many things.” It didn’t matter, I was using Ryan’s card anyway. At first, Mrs. Parker would explain that I was her daughter-in-law, but soon, she just smiled and accepted it. One day, I was carrying bags of shopping with Mrs. Parker when we returned home. We turned on the lights to find Emma looking displeased. She quickly glanced at me, then looked at Mrs. Parker, her expression aggrieved, and asked, “Mom, today is my birthday. Do you remember?” There was a birthday cake on the table. The candles had already gone out. Mr. Parker was out of town for an academic conference. Ryan was also away on a business trip and couldn’t return anytime soon. Emma had recently broken up with her boyfriend and had a falling out with her best friend. In the empty house, there was only one forgotten birthday girl. Mrs. Parker was stunned. She had clearly forgotten. But I remembered. That’s why I deliberately took Mrs. Parker to see a comedy show she liked, and deliberately bought tickets for the late show. I smiled and said to Emma, “Of course we remembered. That’s why Mom specifically took me shopping today to buy you lots of new clothes.” Mrs. Parker came to her senses and hurriedly said, “Yes, yes, Emma, try them on quickly.” She looked at me with disgust and asked, “Who do you think you are? What right do you have to interfere in matters between my mother and me? What, you don’t have a mom so you’re trying to steal someone else’s?” Mrs. Parker’s face changed. She frowned, “Emma! How can you talk like that!” Hearing this, I silently put down the bags. As I bent down, I bit my tongue hard, immediately causing tears to flow. When I raised my head again, it was a face streaked with tears. I sniffled and said in a choked voice, “Emma, I know you don’t like me, but shouldn’t there be at least some basic respect? Besides, your birthday is also the day your mother went through hardship to give birth to you. If you can’t be grateful, at least don’t blame your elders, right?” With that, I ignored Mrs. Parker who wanted to wipe my tears and left directly. That night, Ryan called. His voice was lazy as he asked, “Honey, where did you and mom go play today?” I didn’t say anything. I just kept sniffling. There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then his tone became serious: “Are you crying?” I let out a long sigh and said chokingly, “No, I just watched a pretty heartbreaking movie.” “What’s it called?” “… I don’t remember.” Ryan wanted to say something more, but I interrupted him: “Ryan, I’m a bit tired. I’m going to sleep now.” I immediately turned off my phone. The next morning, Ryan appeared at my doorstep. There were faint dark circles under his eyes, clearly he hadn’t slept all night. I put on a surprised expression: “Why did you come back?” Ryan reached out and hugged me, saying guiltily, “Aria, Mom told me everything.” “I scolded Emma harshly. That girl is really hateful. She’s three years older than you, yet not even half as good as you.” I said helplessly, “Let it go, I won’t hold it against her. But Ryan, I was really embarrassed yesterday. I left without saying goodbye to your mom. I feel bad about it now. I want to buy her a necklace.” “It’s okay, my mom feels like she owes you an apology instead.” I pursed my lips and said nothing. Ryan tapped my nose. “Why don’t we buy two necklaces? One for each of you.” He increased the credit limit on his card. I bought two identical diamond necklaces, which were quite expensive. When I gave it to Mrs. Parker, I said, “Mom, as they say, ‘a child’s birth is a mother’s ordeal.’ This is my heartfelt thought. From now on, whenever it’s Ryan’s or Emma’s birthday, I’ll prepare a gift for you too.” She was so moved after hearing this that she couldn’t help but say, “If only Emma was half as thoughtful as you.” On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, everyone gathered for a meal. When Emma saw her mother and me wearing matching necklaces, her face turned extremely cold. It wasn’t hard to see that she was eating this meal with a heavy heart. But my appetite was excellent. Mr. Parker was a man of few words. I heard that he was single-mindedly devoted to his research, hoping to win a Nobel Prize in his lifetime, and never cared about anything else. Sure enough, Mr. Parker hurriedly ate a few bites and then left, heading straight for the university laboratory. After the meal, Mrs. Parker suddenly had the urge to show me Ryan’s childhood photos. I smiled and played along for a few sentences, then said, “Mom, I’d like to see Emma’s photos too. She’s so beautiful, she must have been pretty since she was little.” No mother dislikes others praising her children. She hurriedly took out another photo album, explaining as she flipped through it, finally coming to Emma’s high school years. There were two group photos. One was from freshman orientation, and one was from just before graduation. My sister wasn’t in the latter. She originally had a bright future ahead of her, but was forever stuck at seventeen. Mrs. Parker was still chattering on, boasting that Emma often received love letters from boys in high school. Ryan came back from smoking on the balcony and heard this. He sneered, “Emma even chased after the sports representative in her class back then, but unfortunately, he liked the class monitor and rejected her.” Mrs. Parker was surprised, “Oh my, I didn’t know about this. Looks like you two siblings kept quite a few secrets from me.” Ryan’s lips curled into a smile as he continued, “And that class monitor was an ugly girl with a weird personality. It really pissed off your precious daughter at the time.” My sister… was the class monitor. So there was this layer of history. Whether it was suicidal thoughts or jealousy, the impulsiveness of youth was like a bolt of lightning during a tribulation. My sister didn’t dodge it, but Emma successfully cultivated herself. As if on cue, she came out of the shower, drying her wet hair, and said disdainfully, “Just thinking about that short-lived ghost makes me feel unlucky.” I struggled to steady my trembling voice and asked, “Short-lived ghost?” Mrs. Parker suddenly remembered, “Oh, that girl who committed suicide by jumping off a building because her grades dropped? Tsk tsk, with such poor ability to handle pressure, she wouldn’t have amounted to much in society anyway.” Emma sneered, “Mom, you can tell just by looking at her face. Your face reflects your heart, and she had a birthmark on her face, proving her heart was dark too.” What absurd logic! I looked at Emma and raised an eyebrow, “So, you knew her well?” Emma’s face flashed with discomfort. She shrugged, “Anyway, the whole class disliked her.” Then she looked at Ryan meaningfully and said, “In the past, when someone upset me, my brother would always stand on my side. Now it’s different.” Ryan seemed to think of something, his expression stiffened, and he didn’t speak anymore. I lowered my eyes, caressing my sister’s face in the photo, and calmly said, “This girl must have been bullied a lot in class.” Mrs. Parker didn’t seem to care much, “Well, she should look for reasons within herself. Why bully her and not others?” …Well, it’s parents like this that raise children like that. Emma said coldly, “That’s right. Anyway, she deserved to die. If she were alive, she’d just be wasting social resources. She might as well be reborn as a dog.” I took a deep breath, barely suppressing the hatred surging in my heart. Emma suddenly said, “Aria, actually, I have something to give you. It’s in my room.” This caught me by surprise. Once in the bedroom, Emma took out a brand new bottle of perfume. She smiled maliciously, leaned close to me, and said in a low voice, “Use it generously. It might cover up your slutty and poor smell.” Oh, so she called me to the room just to say this. Since that’s the case, I couldn’t let her kindness go to waste. I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Emma couldn’t bear this insult. After a moment of shock, she angrily said, “You dare to hit me!” With that, she went crazy, grabbing my hair and banging my head against the wardrobe repeatedly. I didn’t fight back. The commotion was loud. Mrs. Parker and Ryan rushed in, quickly pulling her away. Ryan shielded me and shouted, “Emma Parker, what the fuck is wrong with you!” Mrs. Parker was also furious, “Emma, how could you hit someone!” Emma pointed at the red mark on her face and cried, “Aria hit me first! I was being kind and giving her perfume, thinking that since we’re going to be family, we should get along. But who knew she wouldn’t appreciate it and even mocked the gift for being cheap! Mom, do you think I would slap myself?” “This…” Mrs. Parker looked at me in confusion. I wiped the blood from my forehead and nodded, “That’s right, I hit her first, and I did say the gift was cheap.” Under Emma’s astonished gaze, I raised my face and said solemnly, “It’s not my fault that my parents died. I’m not a harbinger of doom like you say, nor did I ever intend to bring misfortune to your family.” At this point, I became increasingly choked up, “You try to get rid of me with a bottle of perfume and tell me to get lost. Who could bear such humiliation?” I looked at Ryan, tears streaming down my face, “Ryan, I’m not a harbinger of doom. I want to have parents too…” Emma was stunned, hurriedly trying to explain, “She’s lying! I didn’t say she was a harbinger of doom! I didn’t…” “Slap!” This time, it was Ryan who hit her. He hit her hard, causing her to fall to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Emma held her face, looking at Ryan in disbelief, “Brother… you hit me?” “You’d rather believe an outsider than your own sister?!” Ryan looked at her with extreme disgust and said coldly, “That kind of filthy talk does sound like your style.” Emma cried bitterly, feeling wronged. She shouted at Mrs. Parker, “Mom! Tell me who’s right and who’s wrong!” But Mrs. Parker just frowned and said nothing. As Emma cried, her face gradually showed helplessness,anger, and intense hatred.

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Just as the new semester began, my dad donated ten buildings to the school. The principal called me up on stage to honor me. From below, a disdainful voice rang out. “Is that all?” I was immediately annoyed. “If you think you can do better, then go ahead!” He was quite honest and actually went up. Without hesitation, he donated twenty buildings to the school, along with a national-level laboratory. When I entered the school, my dad was so worried about me being taken advantage of that he immediately donated over 20 million dollars, giving the school ten new buildings. To be honest, this was all because of some authors who wrote about roommates as if their brains had been dug out, bullying people at every turn. It scared my dad so much that he was afraid I’d be bullied, insisting that I absolutely couldn’t keep a low profile. So on the first day of school, I stood on the podium while the principal patted my shoulder, praising me and solemnly promising to make the school bigger and stronger. I was very satisfied. Posts about me on the campus network had already topped the hot topics. “About the Billionaire’s Daughter’s Arrival: A Few Things to Know” The comments below were quite eye-catching: “When will the young lady’s new building be ready? I’m wondering where I should tie myself up.” Just as I was basking in everyone’s praise, a very disdainful voice came from below the podium. “Is that all?” “Ten buildings, what’s there to brag about?” It was a male voice, quite cool and pleasant to hear, but the words weren’t so pleasing. I immediately retorted, “If you think you can do better, then go ahead!” He fell silent. I stood on the stage, looking around for a while, but couldn’t find who had spoken. Oh well, there are trolls everywhere. “On behalf of all faculty and students, I thank Miss Zara Blackwood!” The principal smiled kindly, shaking my hand, almost bowing to me. “It’s nothing,” I said calmly. After all, I’ve heard so much praise about this kind of thing since I was little that my ears have grown calluses. Suddenly, the principal’s phone vibrated. He took a look and immediately turned to the audience below: “Who, which one of you is Finn Thorne?” Huh? Before I could react, a guy who was exactly my type strode up with his long legs. His face was cool, his nose high and straight, with a faint scar on the bridge. Handsome, just the type I like! “Oh my, good things really do come in pairs!” The principal grinned from ear to ear, quickly pulling Finn Thorne to stand between me and him. “Just now, Mr. Finn Thorne donated twenty buildings to our university, along with a national-level laboratory!” I was stunned. Finn Thorne turned his head to look at me, smiling mischievously. He slowly uttered three words. “I went ahead.” Me: ??? “Oh my god, young master!” “So handsome, this young master looks much more noble than that Zara Blackwood!” “I’m Finn Thorne’s dog.” “Yeah, yeah, you’re his dog, and I’ll walk you when I go out with Finn Thorne.” This is a campus, not a deserted island! The people below all exploded into chatter. If they were just envious when I donated ten buildings, then Finn Thorne’s actions were a direct slap to my face. I lost. But not completely. As the daughter of a billionaire, with monthly pocket money enough to buy a company, I couldn’t accept someone outdoing me in showing off wealth. I just couldn’t. So I casually said, “This school doesn’t even have a helipad. It’s such a hassle for me to take a car home.” “Oh well, I’ll just build a helipad for the school.” The principal was dumbfounded. The students below were also stunned. I glanced at Finn Thorne with disdain, wanting to see his defeated expression. But there wasn’t any. His handsome face zoomed in front of me, no more than two fists away, and he smiled. “In that case, I’ll donate two helicopters.” My face felt a bit hot. Just as I was about to speak, he suddenly pulled back his face, smiling ambiguously: “Otherwise, it would be so inconvenient for the young lady, wouldn’t it?” “Ahhhh!” “Help, are these two competing?” “Sorry, I think it’s a bit sweet.” Good buddy, you can’t just say that, you know. I’m already engaged to someone else. The crowd below exploded again. The principal pulled out a handkerchief from somewhere, wiping the sweat on his forehead, “Uh, thank you both… for your contributions to our school.” Have I lost? Absolutely not! “Then I…” Just as I was about to speak, the principal suddenly said, “Alright, this commendation ceremony ends here. Dismissed!” After saying that, the principal hurriedly ran off the podium. Leaving me and Finn Thorne on the stage, we glanced at each other, seeing sparks in each other’s eyes. It’s not over yet, I haven’t lost! Back in the dorm, I lay on the bed, unable to calm down for a long time. The campus network had completely exploded. “I’m so jealous!” “I declare, Zara Blackwood is my wife, my only sister!” “What’s so great about Zara Blackwood? I think Finn Thorne is the real deal, always one step ahead of her.” “I guess Zara Blackwood just bought her degree. She looks like one of those uneducated rich girls, not as talented as Finn Thorne.” ??? I immediately went to look in the mirror. Who says I have no talent, who says I bought my degree! I directly opened my phone and posted my GPA and admission letter. “Let me see, who said my degree was bought? (Picture) (Picture)” The comments below stunned everyone. “I knew my wife couldn’t be uneducated!” “Oh my god, is this the daily life of a billionaire’s daughter?” “Manually @Finn Thorne.” I contentedly looked at the comments below, all praising me. Hmm, much better. At this time, a new message suddenly appeared in the comments. I clicked to see, Finn Thorne had posted something. MIT admission letter. I was stunned. Really stunned. Higher GPA than me, and got an MIT admission letter! With such an admission letter, yet he’s studying here, this guy’s got some high ideals. “Alright, I declare Finn Thorne wins this round.” “The young lady lost badly.” “I’m shipping them, how about you guys?” Can’t ship us!! I angrily threw my phone. My roommate saw this and came over: “Zara, are you okay?” “I’m fine,” I replied grumpily. Where the hell did this Finn Thorne come from, always one step ahead of me! I can’t accept this. Thinking about this, I found my old certificates, opened the campus network, and posted again. “Oh. (Picture) (Picture) @Finn Thorne” The pictures showed my race car driver certification and various racing championship trophies and certificates. Sorry, but I’m well-rounded in academics, morality, and physical education. When other girls were still playing with Barbie dolls, I had already started getting into all kinds of racing cars. Can’t help it, I’ve always loved challenges. The comments once again leaned towards me. “Damn, a beautiful race car driver!” “So cool, so cool, sister kill me!” “Where’s the young master? This old servant needs the young master to come out and show off!” I was satisfied. There was no reply from the other side for a long time, he must be scared. As long as he’s scared, that’s fine. Heh, compare with me, I’ll definitely crush you to death. I scrolled through my phone for a long time, but there was still no reply from him. I fell asleep contentedly. In my dream, I had Finn Thorne under my foot, and he was crying and calling me “Queen”. The next day, I was woken up by my roommate. “Zara, quick, look at the campus network!” I opened my sleepy eyes, pulled out my phone from under my pillow, and clicked on the campus network. It exploded again. Finn Thorne had posted a video last night. He was riding a Ducati, speeding like the wind on the track, far outpacing the other racers on the field. At the finish line, he stopped the bike, coolly took off his helmet, revealing his handsome face, holding a golden trophy in his hand. He also thoughtfully attached some pictures. One showed a dense array of trophies and certificates, and another was an international motorcycle rider qualification certificate. I really want to say QAQ, I lost again. Actually, what I wanted to learn most was motorcycles, but my dad thought it was too dangerous and wouldn’t let me learn no matter what, so I had to give up. But he learned it. Not only did he learn it, but he’s also so good at it. And he’s so handsome, I really can’t take it! Looking at the video of him standing next to the fire-red Ducati, I angrily commented. “Hope you get burned!” He immediately replied: “With your cold words, it’s not hot at all.” You’re tough! “I’m dying of sweetness!” “Oh my god, gods, is this the legendary evenly matched love?” Good buddy, you can’t just say that, you know. I’m already engaged to someone else. It exploded again below. The CP fans shouted that they had won the final victory. A certain hot search hung on the campus network for a whole week. “Finn Thorne and Zara Blackwood are engaged, the CP we’ve been shipping all these years has finally come true!” I really want to thank you. Even CP fiction has come out, with a bunch of people urging for updates below. Have I lost like this? No way, I’m not satisfied. I’ve never been treated like this since I was little! He knows more than me, has more certificates than me, has higher education than me. Is there anything I can beat him at? I thought about it, since I can’t win personally, let’s compete in family background! I flipped through my photo album, found a video I took of my family’s estate, and posted it on the campus network. “My home is too big, how can I not get lost? (Video)” Dragon’s Lair Estate, that’s the largest and most luxurious estate in the entire state, priced at $730,000 per square meter, and my family owns over 60,000 square meters. In the front is the estate, in the back is the villa, nestled against mountains and waters, designed by the most famous courtyard designer in the country. To be honest, even the royal palace might not be better than my home. “Holy shit!” “As long as the young lady is happy, this old servant is willing to carry you on my back!” “Take a picture of the entrance, I think it’s quite suitable for me to tie myself up there!” The other side didn’t reply. Good, round four, I won. I put down my phone contentedly, no longer feeling sleepy, so I dragged my roommate to the cafeteria with me. Eating is the most important thing. “Young lady, is that you, young lady!” As soon as we entered the cafeteria, the people around put their food aside and immediately crowded around. “It’s me, I’m your slave, young lady!” Me: “Hello…” “Ahhhh Zara Blackwood, I’m your dog!” Me: ??? “Young lady, keep going, crush that Finn Thorne!” Me: … I just want to eat a quiet meal. After a few minutes, the people surrounding me suddenly ran off, screaming towards the entrance. What’s going on? I turned around, oh, it turns out Finn Thorne had arrived. No wonder, damn it, all the people ran away. The people who were just calling themselves my dogs had now run to Finn Thorne, saying the exact same things. Damn it. I angrily bit into my sweet and sour pork. Suddenly, a shadow fell over my head. I looked up to see Finn Thorne standing in front of me with his tray. The corners of his mouth were smiling: “Let’s eat together.” My face reddened a bit, and I muttered “whatever” before lowering my head to continue eating. It’s my fault for being so weak, and it’s his fault for being exactly my favorite type. It makes me blush just looking at him! Losing was already enough to make me angry, why am I so shy in front of him? This isn’t my style at all, damn it! He suddenly reached out with his fork, spearing a piece of fish fillet and putting it in my bowl. “Eat more, I’m worried you’ll get too thin.” ? Could this be a roundabout way of saying I’m fat? Seeing my unfriendly gaze, Finn Thorne noticed and smiled helplessly: “I didn’t mean anything by it.” I glanced at him and lowered my head to continue eating. I took a bite of the fish fillet. Hmm, it’s really delicious. Since our housekeeper, Aunt Six, went back to her hometown to take care of her children, I haven’t eaten such delicious fish fillet. I didn’t expect the cafeteria to have this. “Which window did you buy it from?” I took another bite, “It’s delicious.” Finn Thorne smiled: “I made it.” Huh??? The fish fillet suddenly became difficult to swallow. Now I don’t know whether to eat it or not, I’m stuck. “Go ahead and eat, there’s more.” Finn Thorne looked at me with a smile, adding another piece to my bowl. Alright, this was his initiative. It’s not like I wanted to eat it! Thinking this way, I ate another piece with a clear conscience. By the time I was full and returned to the dorm, the posts about us on the campus network had become unstoppable. “Wuwuwu, I’m dying of sweetness!! Heart-shaped fish fillet!!” They even posted a picture of him feeding me the fish fillet. The comments below were all blessings. “I’m Finn Thorne’s roommate, this fish fillet wasn’t bought, he made it himself and brought it.” “Damn, Mom, I’ve got the real deal!” “Billionaire’s daughter and the young master from a prestigious family, what a heavenly love!” Love? I was a bit confused. To be honest, we’ve been at odds for so long, I don’t understand how it turned into love. After a while, there was suddenly a post tagging me on the campus network. I clicked to see. Finn Thorne was causing trouble again. This was a video shot by a drone, starting with a huge island, with several yachts docked around, and white doves and seagulls flying over the sea. Looking ahead, what came into view was a group of luxury villas. The overall color was white, with long stairs at least two stories high. The villa looked like the White House, big and vast, truly visually stunning. Luxurious, majestic, and extravagant! Finally, he posted a picture showing the ownership of this villa, with the name of the villa written on it. Platinum Manor. One of the top-rated luxury wine estates both domestically and internationally, and also a private residence. The swimming pool is even bigger than the parking lot. At this moment, I admit, I was envious. It’s something I can’t compare to. “Holy sh*t…” “This can’t just be described as rich anymore, can I, a poor student, even look at this?” “I’m in the same dorm as Finn Thorne, if I kill him, can I get a guaranteed spot for a master’s degree?” “You can also get a pair of silver handcuffs for life, with free room and board starting now.” My confidence suffered an unprecedented blow. It turns out, this guy is really rich, even richer than my family. When I was little and saw this villa, I mentioned once that I really liked it. I was mercilessly rejected by my dad because it simply couldn’t be bought. Now the market value, I checked, is about 13 billion dollars. Why can he buy it! Suddenly, I realized a blind spot. He… should be single, right? I really want to give myself a thumbs up for my cleverness! He’s so awesome, he must not have a partner, right? But I do! Sorry, but I’ve been betrothed since birth. Although I’m not very fond of this arranged marriage thing and have completely ignored it, I can also have it when necessary. So I quickly video called my mom. My mom was surprised when she heard I wanted my fiancé’s WeChat: “Didn’t you always resist this?” “Oh, different situations call for different approaches. Quick, give it to me!” I urged, and my mom didn’t say anything, just directly gave me the WeChat contact card. The other person’s avatar was a grass-woven ring on their pinky finger, giving off a unique sense of elegance. The name was “Scar”. Quite non-mainstream. After I added him, the WeChat request was approved almost instantly. The other side sent a question mark. I quickly typed: [Hello, fiancé!] Then I took a screenshot and asked, [My name is Zara Blackwood, what’s your name?] The other side didn’t reply, so I simply posted the screenshot directly on the campus network, with the caption: “After all, I’m not single.” Finn Thorne hadn’t replied yet, but the comments below exploded first. “Ahhhh, my CP just started and it’s already over???” “Who is this fiancé, find him, I’ll beat him up right now, he must give up!” “Wuwu, don’t end my rich family drama!” Little ones. I gleefully scrolled through the comments. Haha, I don’t believe you can outdo me this time! I have a partner and you don’t, this is the reason for being willful! After a while, Finn Thorne finally posted. Before I clicked in, I was still full of confidence. After I clicked in, I was stunned. Because what he posted was a screenshot of my conversation with my arranged marriage partner, different from mine in that it also included my self-introduction below, and it was from the perspective of the arranged marriage guy himself. My hand trembled. It’s not possible… is it? The comment section was also a bit stunned. At the same time, my phone suddenly vibrated. I clicked into WeChat and looked. [Hello, fiancée. My name is Finn Thorne.]

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I woke up in the middle of the night to find that Frederick had posted a new photo on Instagram. In it, a woman was lounging seductively against his leg. After ten years of marriage, he had finally betrayed me! And with the girl I had been supporting, no less. Strangely, I felt… excited. For ten years, I had meticulously planned this moment, orchestrating the ultimate showdown between these two psychopaths. The real show was just beginning! My period cramps were killing me, and I had a fever on top of it. My whole body ached, making it impossible to sleep. “Frederick…” I called out, my forehead burning as I reached for him, hoping he’d bring me some warm water. Then I remembered he had a business dinner tonight. There was medicine in the nightstand. Groggy, I fumbled for a painkiller and swallowed it with water that had long since gone cold. The double dose of pain left me tossing and turning. I opened my phone, trying to distract myself. Frederick had posted a new photo on Instagram. The girl in it looked young and alluring, lounging languidly on his leg. His hand rested in her thick hair, the wedding ring I had personally designed still on his finger. From the looks of it, they’d had quite a bit to drink. Dizzy, I tried to scroll past, but accidentally hit the like button. My heart started racing. Almost instantly, I unliked the post. But within seconds, my phone rang. It was Frederick’s number. It was the girl who spoke, giggling with an unhinged edge to her voice: “Sister, Frederick’s legs are so long and strong. Are you satisfied with what you see?” My throat was dry and hoarse as I managed to say, “Where’s Frederick?” “You liked the post and then unliked it. What does that mean? Not satisfied?” Frederick’s voice came on the line. His tone was dangerous, dark and menacing. I steeled myself, mustering all my focus: “I accidentally hit it. Frederick, it’s eleven o’clock now. If you’re not home by eleven-thirty, don’t bother coming back at all.” I hung up immediately. But cold sweat broke out on my back. For a moment, the tension made me forget about the pain. So the girl could use his phone to talk to me now… She really did have some skills. I wonder if my reaction today will satisfy him?

The big teddy bear by the bed stared at me with its black button eyes, constantly watching my every move. Frederick got home in less than ten minutes. He made me some ginger tea and held me in his arms. “Honey, are you angry?” he asked. I nodded. “Who was that woman?” He’d played this game too many times. I was tired of it, but I still had to play along and act jealous. “Honey, don’t you love me anymore?” I pretended to be hurt, crying in his arms. As expected, it was exactly what he wanted. He held me tighter as I trembled, kissing my forehead. “How could I not? You’re the one I love most. She was just for work…” A chill ran down my spine, and my headache felt like it was about to split my skull open. His so-called “work” was actually hunting. I seemed to see flashes of severed limbs in the basement… Those women were all his “prey,” specifically hunted to make me jealous. Every time, he would post a photo on Instagram first. The girls in the photos would be taken to the basement that same night, tortured for days before being dismembered. He’d keep the parts he liked best, disposing of the rest in various ways. Today’s girl must already be locked in the basement by now. She can’t die. She’s the version of Frederick I’ve spent ten years cultivating.

Ten years ago, shortly after I discovered Frederick wasn’t normal, I spent a long time volunteering at an orphanage. One of the girls there, Skylar, caught my attention. I watched her emotionlessly wring the neck of a fluffy yellow duckling. “Why did you kill it?” I asked. She tossed the duckling into the pool, her face expressionless. “Because someone else touched it.” “My mom used to say, if someone takes something you like, you either break their hands and take it back, or… you destroy it. That way, no one else can have it.” She looked up at me with a smile. Young as she was, there was something wicked in that smile. “I can’t break people’s hands, so I had to destroy it. If I can’t have it, no one can.” In that moment, I knew she was the one I’d been looking for! I sponsored her education, bought her lots of cute dolls and pretty clothes. More often than not, I reinforced her ideas – that it was right to think “if I can’t have it, no one can.” She repaid me with broken dolls and shredded clothes. She would often say with a look of ecstasy, “Sister, I feel so satisfied and happy when I destroy them…” “The more beautiful something is that I can’t have all to myself, the more I want to tear it apart!” I looked at her calmly, but inside I was terrified – This little demon, watered by my influence, was gradually growing into a big demon… I wanted her to obsess over Frederick, to give myself a chance to escape.

I decided to rescue Skylar. The next evening at dinner, I secretly slipped some sleeping pills into Frederick’s orange juice. He drank it without suspicion, only asking, “Honey, are you feeling better?” I nodded, saying in a hoarse voice, “The fever’s gone down. I’m much better. Honey, no more business dinners from now on.” His face lit up with joy. He smiled as he cut up the still-bloody steak for me and pushed it over. “Honey, eat up.” I fought back the nausea rising in my throat and forked a piece from the edge into my mouth. “Ugh-” Frederick quickly came over to pat my back. “Honey, are you pregnant?!” he asked, incredibly excited. I shook my head, my voice raspy. “Just a reaction from being sick.” The light in his eyes instantly dimmed. He gave me an odd look. “We’ve been married for ten years. When are we going to have a child?” But then he brightened again. “No children is better. That way no one can steal my wife’s love…” After dinner, Frederick took a shower and went to bed early. I quietly opened the safe, took out the basement key, and snuck out of the bedroom. The basement was empty and eerie. The strong smell of formaldehyde mixed with the scent of blood made my head spin even more. A row of terrifying instruments and glass jars lined the walls. The jars contained Frederick’s “collection.” I didn’t dare turn on the lights for fear Frederick would discover me, so I searched using my phone’s flashlight. “Skylar?” I called out in a very low voice. There was a tall figure ahead that looked like someone chained to a cross. I hurried over. The person had long hair hanging down, head bowed, looking lifeless. As I got closer, the smell of decay grew stronger. My heart sank. It couldn’t be… He usually played with them for several days before killing them… “Skylar?” I lightly tapped her shoulder – The head tilted and suddenly rolled to the ground! I let out a startled cry, my phone clattering to the floor. The sound echoed jarringly in the empty room. “Honey?” Frederick’s voice came from outside. Oh no! He’d discovered me! I scrambled to pick up my phone, turned off the flashlight, and dove into a nearby large box. Sweat had already beaded on my forehead. “Honey?” The lights came on. Through a crack in the box, I could see his pants and fuzzy slippers moving this way. “Huh?” He bent down, puzzled. His head came close to the box. With his figure backlit, I could only see a cold glint off his glasses through the crack. I held my breath, not daring to move. Out of nervousness, I instinctively grabbed whatever I could reach beside me. It was sticky, cold, and stiff, wrapped in a leathery texture. It felt like… a hand?! I quickly let go. Frederick stepped back and picked up the fallen head. His long, slender fingers were pale and elegant. Strangely, the wedding ring he never took off was missing. He muttered to himself, “Has it been too long? Or was it rats? How did it just fall off?” My back was already soaked with sweat, clinging to my skin. I shivered. The slippers lingered in front of the box for a while before walking away. With a click, the lights went out. I slumped back, gasping like a fish out of water… “Hee hee-” A woman’s sudden laugh rang out inside the box!

In this enclosed, cramped space, the laughter was so crisp yet so eerie. My hair stood on end in fright. The lights came on again, and the shuffling of slippers grew closer – Something pressed against my face! My teeth chattered uncontrollably, my lips already numb. It was… that sticky, cold hand. “Sister, you and I are truly kindred spirits!” A soft female voice sounded in my ear. As she finished speaking, the lid of the box was lifted. Skylar stood up, climbed out of the box, and stood beside Frederick. “Sister, the hunt has begun.” In that moment, I felt ice-cold all over. I was so stupid. I thought that if I nurtured her from childhood with the idea that “if you can’t have something, destroy it,” she would eventually target Frederick and destroy him. I never expected one misstep would ruin everything. Compared to destroying Frederick, destroying his “owner” was clearly easier. I was tied up by the two of them, face to face with the decapitated female corpse. Frederick’s technique was practiced and skilled. His silver-rimmed glasses gleamed coldly. He looked so unfamiliar now, nothing like the Frederick who had made me ginger tea and rubbed my stomach earlier. “How do you want to play?” A Swiss Army knife twirled in Skylar’s hand. Frederick glanced at me coldly, his icy fingertips gripping my chin, his thumb caressing the corner of my lips. “No rush. I’ve waited all these years. This time, I’m going to take it slow and really enjoy myself!” “Right, honey?” The slightly upturned tone of his voice held absolute confidence and condescension. “Honey, don’t you love me anymore?” I tried to buy time, making myself look pitiful with tears in my eyes. “The ring I designed for you – you said you’d never take it off, even in death.” A flicker of confusion passed almost imperceptibly through his eyes. He let out a cold snort. “Skylar, watch her.” I watched him turn and stride away. His tall, straight back, the slim waist beneath his robe, his long legs, and that pale, ascetic face – all had once been the downfall of so many women. “He really is handsome, isn’t he?” The Swiss Army knife tapped my face. “Such a handsome man – if I didn’t make him mine, I’d be letting down all these years of your teachings.” “Just wait and see how he submits to me.” Her eyes flashed with the excitement of a predator eyeing its prey, her lips curled in an evil grin. Suddenly, she thrust the knife at me with all her might! The blade barely grazed my neck, changing direction to stab at my arm. The fabric tore as the knife tip embedded in the wooden frame. “You came to save me earlier, didn’t you?” She smiled at the cut she’d made on my arm, licking her lips.

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2:00 a.m. I found my sister, Sarah, in the basement of our house, even though she was supposed to be with her husband, Brian, in London. She was wearing a red satin slip dress, her body bruised and bound in chains, with red-stained bandages wrapped tightly around her legs. Seeing me, Sarah looked desperate and mouthed, “Watch out for Mom and Dad!” I wanted to ask her what happened, but footsteps echoed above us. Someone was moving around upstairs. I didn’t know what it meant, but my instincts told me to hide, fast. I slipped into an old cabinet just as someone descended the stairs. Peeking through the crack, I saw Dad, Charles. He was holding a plate piled high with yesterday’s leftovers—food that looked as unappetizing as it did cold. The second Sarah saw him, she began shaking with fear. Dad grabbed her chin with his thumb crease and forced her mouth open, shoving spoonfuls of the food inside. She gagged, her face twisting in pain until she vomited. He just stood there, watching in silence, then began force-feeding her again, waiting until she finished every last bite before he gave her a smug smile. Then he set the plate aside and reached into his pocket, pulling out a paring knife. Loosening the red-stained bandages around her legs, he revealed a sight that made my stomach drop—her once-smooth legs were now swollen, bruised, and some areas were oozing. Dad pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. If I remembered correctly, those glasses were Sarah’s graduation gift to him. I knew exactly what he was about to do before he even started. Holding that knife, the one I’d used to slice apples, he began cutting into her legs, slicing away chunks of flesh. The metallic smell of blood and rotting flesh filled the room. I clenched my lips tightly, desperate to keep silent. Dad’s gaze suddenly snapped toward my hiding place. I stilled, heart hammering, until his eyes finally drifted away. He gathered up the meat he’d just sliced and left. When the room fell silent, I shakily climbed out of the cabinet. My legs felt like jelly, barely holding me up. I crawled to my sister’s side, horrified by the state she was in. Her legs were wrapped in fresh bandages, but they’d already soaked through with blood. How could Dad do this? To his own daughter? Sarah and I had never shared the same father. My mom married Charles when I was little. Sarah had always been the perfect daughter. She never liked my mom initially but gradually grew warmer to her, so I thought we were all moving toward something good. But now, Sarah was whispering that my mother had killed her own mother. That both of our mothers were murderers. She warned me to stay away from them. I don’t remember making it back to my room. Lying there, I told myself, over and over, that it was only a dream—that Sarah and Brian were still in London.

In the morning, I came downstairs to find Mom busy in the kitchen. Dad sat at the table, reading the paper, his face calm and content as sunlight filtered through the window. I slid into the seat across from him, eyeing the big breakfast spread. Finally, I asked, “Dad… where’s Sarah?” He frowned, reaching over to feel my forehead. His face softened with an odd, almost amused expression. “Are you feeling alright, sweetheart? Sarah and Brian moved to London two years ago. You remember—you cried when they left.” Yes. That was right. I remembered watching them board the plane. Was it really just a nightmare? Mom came in, setting down a bowl of steaming beef broth, spooning a generous portion into my bowl. She told me to eat it all up. The smell was savory, but as I stared at it, the nausea crept in. Mom noticed my hesitation. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” “No, I like it. Thanks, Mom,” I mumbled, stirring the broth slowly, lifting a slice of meat from the bowl. The memory of my dream hit me, and I couldn’t hold back anymore. I leaned over and threw up. Mom rushed over, patting my back, alarmed. “Honey, do you need to go to the hospital?” Everything seemed normal, but something felt terribly wrong. Mom never used to be this doting. My mind went back to Sarah in the cellar. I glanced at Dad, horrified. “What’s gotten into you this morning?” he asked, looking mildly amused. No. This wasn’t like him at all. My dad had never cared much for me before, never even looked in my direction. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something sinister was hidden beneath this facade. If what I saw was real, then the man I called Dad had locked his daughter in the cellar, cut pieces of her flesh, and served it to me as beef broth. I couldn’t handle it. Gripping my thumb crease under the table, I forced myself to calm down. After a deep breath, I said, “I didn’t sleep well. I’m going back upstairs to rest.”

I reached the stairway corner, just out of sight of the living room, before dashing to the cellar. But when I reached it, there was nothing—just the same old cluttered furniture. The bed Sarah had been lying on was empty, occupied only by a teddy bear, her gift to me on my eighteenth birthday. There was no sign of Sarah. No red-stained bandages. It must have been a dream. I leaned against the wardrobe, breathing heavily. But something didn’t add up. It felt too real. Then, in the corner of the cabinet, I spotted a small button—one from my pajamas. I really had hidden in there last night. “Lily, what are you doing down here?” I whipped around. Dad was behind me, his gaze sharp and scrutinizing, his gold-rimmed glasses reflecting the dim light. Swallowing down my panic, I clutched the teddy bear and stammered, “I…I missed Sarah and wanted to find the teddy bear she gave me.” It was the best excuse I could come up with. Dad’s expression was cold and calculating, like a snake watching its prey. He looked at me for a long moment, then said, “Take what you need and leave. There’s no reason to be down here.” I forced a smile, hugging the bear as I walked out, making a show of mumbling, “She could’ve at least called after all this time.” Dad trailed behind me at a steady distance. I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my head. “She just got there, Lily,” he said in an even tone. “She’s busy. Don’t bother her with calls.” Why hadn’t I thought to call her? I went back to my room, pulled out my phone, and dialed her number. “Sorry, your account is suspended due to lack of payment.” What? She’d filled my account with credit before she left. Confused and scared, I checked the Wi-Fi and saw it was disabled, and my phone had no signal. I was trapped—no way to call for help, no way to reach Brian.

Ever since that morning, I felt more and more drained each day, my energy sapped. And every day, Mom brought me another bowl of beef broth. Each time I looked at the meat in the broth, I thought of Sarah, and the nausea returned. I couldn’t drink it. But for reasons I couldn’t explain, I found myself lifting the spoon. Mom’s voice coaxed me to drink, and I did, helpless to resist. Once I finished, Mom seemed pleased. She set down the bowl and helped me to the cellar. There was Sarah again, lying on the bed, more of her body wrapped in red-stained bandages. Mom placed a stool near the bed and sat me down. Slowly, she unwrapped the bandages, revealing new gashes where her flesh had been cut. She muttered, “My sweet girl doesn’t like beef broth, so let’s make some sliced cold cut.” She took out a knife and, with a chilling calm, said, “A friend gave Dad this fish just a few days ago—so tender, so fresh.” Then she sliced into Sarah’s flesh as Sarah’s wide, terrified eyes looked on. “Sweetheart, here’s your favorite—sliced cold cut.” I stared in horror as she brought the bloody meat toward my mouth, forcing me to chew, to swallow. Sarah looked back at me, her eyes filled with disbelief, anger, and finally, despair. Inside, I screamed, No, I can’t do this! This is my sister! But no one heard me.

“No!” I shot up in bed, drenched in sweat. A calm, gentle voice brought me back. “Did you have a nightmare, dear?” I looked up. It was Dr. Alice Morgan, her face compassionate and kind. I took in my surroundings, realizing I was in a hospital room. Dr. Morgan explained, “You had a fever and were unconscious for days. Your mom’s been here the whole time. They just stepped out for a meal.” But the memory of that night clung to me, so vivid I couldn’t let it go. Still uneasy, I borrowed her phone to call Sarah’s number. This time, the call went through. But all I heard was the muffled noise of a crowded room. No voice replied, no matter how many times I shouted. Dr. Morgan smiled, interpreting my confusion. “Sounds like they’re somewhere noisy—a karaoke bar, maybe, or a downtown pub. It’d be hard for anyone to hear you over that.” I glanced away, feeling foolish. I had never set foot in a bar or a karaoke place, so I had no idea what it was like. “Why…why can’t I hear her voice at all?” Dr. Morgan chuckled gently. “The noise on her end is probably drowning you out. She’s likely having a good time and can’t hear her phone at all.” I wanted to press further, but at that moment, Mom returned. She entered quietly, her gaze soft but unreadable, and settled in the chair beside my bed. She brought a thermos with her, the kind she always carried, and set it down. Opening it, she said with a kind smile, “I know how much you like your sliced cold cuts, but since you’re not well, let’s stick with some beef broth for now, alright?” My stomach twisted as I watched the steam rise from the bowl of beef broth she handed me. The presentation was pleasant, the aroma rich and inviting, but I hesitated, feeling unease bubble up inside me. Mom noticed and said, “Sweetie, what’s the matter? You want me to feed you? You’re old enough to eat on your own—you’ll have to do that when you’re married, after all.” I barely registered her words. I focused instead on the bowl inching closer to my mouth. My panic flared, and before I realized it, I’d shoved the bowl away, spilling the hot broth all over her hand. She flinched but remained calm, the red marks on her hand showing through. I quickly grabbed some tissues and started wiping her hand, my voice rushing with apologies. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to. I…I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Mom gave me a small smile, patting my hand reassuringly. “It’s alright, honey. No harm done. I just didn’t hold it tight enough.” But as she gathered herself, her soothing words somehow felt hollow. Another nightmare?

Lately, the nightmares had become almost constant. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something horrible was following me, threatening me. I decided I had to do something drastic—I needed to find a way to protect myself. I told Mom and Dad that I was going up Red Ridge to pray at the Mountain Chapel. They surprised me by offering to come along, saying they wanted to support me. I’d never had so much attention from both of them, and though I was nervous, a part of me felt warm, like maybe everything would be alright. We set out that afternoon, and by the time we neared the chapel, the sun had already dipped below the horizon. The shadows lengthened, and the chill in the air grew. As we neared a cliffside path, I spotted an old man sitting by the edge, wearing a ragged fisherman’s hat and holding a fishing pole as if he were casting into the sky itself. Trying to lighten the mood, I nudged Dad and joked, “Look at that old man, fishing right off a cliff!” Dad looked in the direction I was pointing, his brow creasing. “What old man? There’s nothing there but rocks.” I blinked. Rocks? But I could clearly see the man, still there on the cliff’s edge, turning his head slowly until it felt like his gaze met mine.

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Jack’s childhood friend turned into a social media influencer while I was away. She snuck into my room when I wasn’t home, guessed my computer password, and copied all my paid novels onto her phone. Then she posted them online for free. Overnight, she gained tens of thousands of followers. The next day, when I confronted her, she smirked and said, “What’s wrong, old lady? Jealous that I’m making money now?” Jack walked in just as Lily and I were in the middle of a heated argument. Well, to be more accurate, Lily was the one doing all the yelling. I realized she was like a madwoman from an asylum – completely impossible to reason with. “If you can write stories as a side gig, why can’t I promote them?” she sneered. “What’s wrong, old lady? Jealous that I’m making money now?” My initial anger at her accusations gradually turned to stunned silence as I listened to her increasingly unhinged ranting. Lily used to be Jack’s neighbor and in his words, was just an innocent, lively young girl. After graduating, she moved to our city for work. Being new and unfamiliar with the place, she had come to stay with him. My newly purchased apartment had two bedrooms. Jack suggested letting Lily stay temporarily until her internship ended in a few months. “Lena, it’ll be three months max. Just think of it as doing me a favor,” he pleaded. At first, I refused. After all, who wants to live with a stranger? But then I reconsidered. When I first moved here, I had no one and went through many hardships. If I could help someone else out, why not? It was only for three months after all. I didn’t even charge her rent. Little did I know I was inviting a wolf into my home. One time Lily’s laptop broke down when she urgently needed to revise a proposal. She was in tears, so I softened and lent her my computer. Afterwards, I forgot to change the password. Who knew that would plant the seeds of disaster? Seeing Jack arrive, Lily immediately transformed into a sweet, demure girl – a complete 180 from her nasty attitude just moments ago. She lowered her slightly damp lashes, sniffled, and said softly, “Jack, there are so many novel promotion accounts online. Why is Lena picking on me specifically? Doesn’t she want people to promote her work?” Jack was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Normally, social media influencers don’t post an author’s entire work. That’s quite…” He paused, searching for the right word. “…disrespectful.” Hah. I laughed bitterly. So unethical behavior is just “disrespectful” now? Hearing this, Lily hung her head and mumbled, “Okay, I was wrong then.” She took a deep breath and when she looked up again, she was back to her innocent, carefree persona. With a bright smile, she chirped, “Let’s go get dinner! My treat, as an apology to Lena.” Apology? Who does she think she’s fooling? I sat on the couch and smiled at her. “Lily, first you need to delete all the videos. Then return the money you earned from the views to me. Finally, post a public apology statement.” “That would be a real apology.” Lily stared at me in disbelief, her voice suddenly rising. “Lena, you’re going too far!” Going too far? How ridiculous. I pulled up the videos from my phone gallery and handed it to her expressionlessly. Instantly, Lily’s face froze. Jack, not knowing what was happening, curiously leaned over to look. Soon his brows furrowed, a deeply disappointed expression on his face as he glanced at Lily, seemingly at a loss for words. The videos showed all of Lily’s misdeeds in my room when I was away. Not only did she steal my manuscripts, she also wore my clothes, used my skincare products, spat on my bedsheets and pillowcases, and even took my jewelry. At first when I noticed things amiss, I had suspected Lily but had no proof. Who knew that just three days after installing hidden cameras, I’d capture so much incriminating footage? Lily’s face turned beet red with shame. She looked at Jack with teary eyes, shaking her head. “I… I didn’t…” But she couldn’t come up with any excuses. In a fit of rage, she deleted the video and tossed the phone onto the couch, glaring at me defiantly. I savored Lily’s smug expression with amusement, speaking slowly. “No worries, I have plenty of backup copies. Lily, if you don’t meet my demands, I’ll have no choice but to hand this over to the police. After all, there’s clear evidence of theft.” I paused, then added, “That Cartier necklace wasn’t worth much, but is it really worth getting a criminal record over?” Lily was utterly humiliated and furious. Biting her lip, she had no choice but to delete the videos, return the money she’d earned, and post an apology statement under my increasingly impatient gaze. As for the Cartier necklace, Lily claimed she had already sold it on eBay for $50. …Well, no matter. She can just compensate me for the full price then.

When Lily moved out, she sneered that I was obsessed with money. I lazily raised an eyebrow, replying nonchalantly, “Still better than being brainless like you.” She glared at me fiercely, at a loss for words. Not long after, Lily posted on Instagram. The photo showed her on a balcony at dusk, gazing into the distance. Her delicate profile was bathed in the fading light, hair gently blowing in the breeze. It had a tranquil, poetic quality. The caption read: “Grateful for the shelter. Looking forward to what’s ahead.” I knew that balcony all too well – it was at Jack’s place. An indescribable chill ran through me. It was nauseating. If that’s how it was going to be, why bother dumping this idiot on me in the first place? Utterly ridiculous! I coldly texted Jack asking what the hell was going on. Moments later, Jack called. He sounded flustered. “Lena, Lily had to move out so suddenly and couldn’t find a place. I couldn’t just let her end up on the streets.” It sounded like he was blaming me for kicking her out. I asked, “Are there no hotels?” Jack sighed softly. “It’s not safe for a young woman to stay at a hotel alone. Lena, Lily’s young and naive. She knows she was wrong. Just let it go, okay?” I was speechless. One loved stealing, the other loved twisting words. These two really did have a future together. “Jack, Lily may be five years younger than me, but even five years ago I would never have done what she did. And I certainly wouldn’t be living with someone else’s boyfriend.” I paused, then said, “Let’s break up.” There was silence on the other end. I lost patience and hung up. Actually, I’d been planning to end this relationship for a while now. Lily had paid me back $3000 in total. I knew full well who had really given her that money. But I didn’t care anymore. Whatever, money in my pocket was what mattered most. Good riddance to trashy men. Jack and I had been introduced by our parents. His dad and my dad were classmates. At a reunion, they discovered their kids were working in the same city and both single, so they exchanged our contact info. Jack and I got to know each other for a while before becoming a couple. He gave me the impression of a jade stone sealed in a box – plain and dull, occasionally glimmering. But after this incident, I saw clearly that the so-called “jade” was nothing but shards from a shattered beer bottle – ugly and stained. I know no one’s perfect. So I could accept Jack’s weak personality and indecisiveness. But I couldn’t accept how he completely stood by when I was being bullied. Even with evidence right in front of him, he didn’t say a single word in my defense. And I definitely couldn’t accept that deep down, he favored another woman. Call it stupidity or favoritism, I didn’t want to entrust myself to a man like that. After we broke up, Jack called me many times and sent lots of long messages. Just looking at them made my eyes hurt. I never responded and blocked him directly. One night I got a call from an unknown number. The person on the other end seemed drunk, slurring, “Lena, did you… hic… did you find some rich guy?” I was stunned for a moment, then laughed mockingly. “No, I just don’t like men who are too short. In any sense of the word.” Jack choked, then angrily hung up. He knew full well why we broke up, but admitting fault was too difficult. Shifting blame was so much easier. Recently I took on a new project at work. Our whole team was working around the clock, practically day and night. It wasn’t until half a month later that we finally wrapped things up. I stretched lazily in the office, feeling immensely relieved. Thinking of the year-end bonus made me break into a smile. Suddenly my phone buzzed. It was a photo from my friend Samantha. In an upscale restaurant, Jack and Lily were acting intimately, gazing at each other with eyes full of endless affection. “Lena, you were right to break up! That scumbag moved on without missing a beat! It’s so gross I can’t even eat!” To be honest, I felt completely calm. It was like watching random strangers on the street – not a ripple of emotion. I replied: “Whatever. You can’t hold onto someone who wants to leave. And those who stay won’t go anywhere.” I strolled down the street. The night wind surged fiercely yet tenderly, blowing away the last warmth of late summer. It also bid farewell to a relationship that was never meant to be mine. At least, that’s what I thought.

The project was completed beautifully. Our boss, understanding how hard the team had worked, gave us a few extra days off after we finished wrapping things up. I had been so exhausted that I was sound asleep at home when I was suddenly woken by loud knocking. I opened the door to find Jack. His eyes were rimmed with red, his expression dazed. He reeked of alcohol. Leaning against the doorframe, he looked down at me and smiled. “Lena, long time no see.” I eyed him warily. “What are you doing here?” But Jack didn’t answer. He tried to come inside, but he was so drunk he could barely stand. I kicked him out without hesitation. I slammed the door shut. Outside, Jack’s voice came through like a dog barking. He kept yelling for me to open the door, to see him, to give him another chance to start over. Drunk words, sober thoughts. A man who seemed so honest and steady on the surface was actually a fickle playboy at heart. I couldn’t help but feel grateful I’d gotten out of that mess in time. It was 11:30 PM. The neighbors were all asleep. Jack’s hoarse voice echoed in the hallway like an curse, shattering the night’s peace. I warned him, “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police!” There was a moment of silence outside, then his dismissive voice: “Hah, I don’t believe you.” Fifteen minutes later, the police arrived. … When Lily came to pick Jack up, he was already half sober, hanging his head in silence. Lily glared at me with disgust. “Lena, are you some kind of ghost or succubus? Why are you still trying to seduce other people’s boyfriends?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “If your boyfriend hadn’t shown up drunk in the middle of the night begging me to take him back, forcing me to call the police, why would you be here picking him up from the station?” “You…!” Lily bit her lip hard, shooting a disappointed look at Jack before turning her anger back to me. “Keep dreaming! He just came to settle accounts after you scammed him out of so much money!” I froze. The police officer frowned. “Scammed?” Lily snatched Jack’s phone and pulled up records of all the money he’d spent on me over the past six months. Gifts for various holidays, meals he paid for, travel tickets, hotel bookings… all sorts of odds and ends. “Lena, since you’ve already broken up with Jack, shouldn’t you return everything you owe? Don’t take advantage of my boyfriend!” The police officer’s expression was hard to read. He glanced at me, his eyes conveying either sympathy for my situation or relief that I’d gotten out of it. I smiled bitterly and shook my head, immediately pulling up my own records of purchases – men’s belts, watches, wallets and more that I’d bought from high-end stores. “You’re right, we should settle accounts.” Just a quick comparison of the prices made it clear who owed who, without even needing a calculator. Lily was furious, especially when she realized the suit jacket and shoes Jack was wearing were ones I’d bought. Her face turned an ugly shade of purple. She took a breath, then sneered, “So you were the one throwing yourself at him.” Jack, that rotten piece of wood, finally spoke up. Looking at me, he nodded. “That’s right, she was.” I didn’t want to waste energy arguing. I also didn’t want to get involved in this mess anymore. I accepted the officer’s mediation, but before leaving, I asked for a copy of the police report. As I came out, the streetlights on both sides had gone dark. The night curtain was being pulled back, revealing the faint white of dawn. Lily had thrown Jack’s shoes and jacket in the trash. He stood by the road waiting for a ride in his socks and shirt, shivering from the cold. As I passed by them, I overheard Lily making a few sarcastic remarks, all aimed at me. Even though it was clearly the man who had shown up uninvited, she blamed me instead. I wasn’t sure if she was deluding herself or just blind to the situation. As for Jack, he neither refuted nor agreed, remaining silent with a complex expression. I quickly got in my car and left. Even looking at them for another second made me feel sick to my stomach. Besides the childhood bond, what Jack liked most about Lily was feeling adored and depended on. It gave him a sense of superiority he never got from me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294897”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #重生Reborn #校园School #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #惊悚Thriller #魔幻Magic #玄幻Fantsy