Category: English

To cure the fake heiress’ depression, my childhood sweetheart and fiancé, Ethan Graham, secretly married her despite his vows that he’d marry no one but me. So, I agreed to a family-arranged marriage with Asher Whitman, the heir to a powerful family in the capital, who had secretly loved me for years. For seven years after our wedding, Asher treated me like I was his whole world. His affection was overwhelming, almost suffocating, as if he couldn’t go a moment without touching me. If I wanted the stars in the sky, he’d find a way to bring them down for me. I thought I had finally found happiness. But then, one night after we were together, I overheard him talking to his close friend. “Serena’s now an international superstar. When are you going to break things off with Lila?” “It doesn’t matter who I’m with when she is not the one I love. Besides, I have to keep an eye on Lila to make sure she doesn’t ruin Serena’s hard-earned happiness.” I opened his study computer and found a hidden folder. It was packed with over a hundred thousand photos of Serena and a hundred unsent love letters. I’d be a fool if I still couldn’t see the truth. I bought a synthetic body and began planning a fire to fake my death. From this moment forward, I vowed never to see Asher again. ***** I turned off the screen after I placed the order for everything I needed. All I had to do was wait three days to vanish from Asher’s life forever. When I turned around, Asher was smiling at me. He had gotten rid of the scent of nicotine outside and warmed his body before daring to hug me from behind. He asked, “Why aren’t you asleep yet?” The warmth of his embrace should’ve been my haven, the safest place in the world. But now, it only left a bitter ache in my heart. Seven years of marriage, and he had spoiled me like no other. In the capital, everyone knew that Asher doted on his wife, keeping me hidden like precious. He told me he had fallen for me at first sight when we were kids, secretly loving me for 14 years. At our wedding, with tears in his eyes, he swore that marrying me felt like a dream. He knew all about my past, and when my childhood sweetheart turned his back on me, Asher used his family’s power to create a rift between them. He went so far as to sabotage Serena’s career to get back at those who had wronged me. He harbored hatred for anyone who betrayed me. His performance was so convincing that even I, an actress, couldn’t spot a flaw. I bitterly remembered how he would call my name in moments of passion, but the way he said it always sounded a little off. I thought it was just a quirk of his, but now I realized he had probably been calling me “Rina” the whole time. I lowered my head and wiped my tears, but he didn’t notice. Instead, he said, “Serena won the Best Actress award. There’s an industry gathering tomorrow, so stay home with me. I don’t want you to be upset when you see her.” I silently counted in my mind. This was at least the hundredth time Asher’d used such excuses to keep me from showing up in public. At first, I thought it was just his possessiveness, which I reluctantly tolerated, choosing to retreat while I was at my peak. Now, I realized it was all just to make way for Serena. I said, “I’m meeting with Anthony Pearce tomorrow. He wants me to star as the lead in his next film. I can’t skip it.” Asher said, “It’s fine. We don’t have to go. I’ll support you. Even if you never work again, I can take care of everything.” But fame and fortune never mattered to me. I had told him once that starring in an Anthony’s film was my dream, which I wanted to achieve with my talent. Back then, he had promised to support me in that. He hadn’t forgotten. But Serena also wanted the lead role, so my dream was doomed to be trampled for her benefit. Seeing I was silent, he gently coaxed me, “Lila, don’t be upset, okay? We can go to the party anytime, but our time together is more precious, right? The day after tomorrow marks our first seven-year itch. I promise I’ll give you an unforgettable surprise. Deal?” I forced a smile and said, “Okay, and I’ll give you my biggest gift in return.” What I didn’t say was, “Asher, we couldn’t overcome the seven-year itch. From now on, you’ll be alone. Only you. I’m letting you go.”

In the middle of the night, after Asher fell asleep holding me, I still couldn’t resist getting up and heading to the study. His words, telling me he didn’t love me, and the photo albums and love letters I found on his computer were enough to crush any hope I had left. But seven years with him weren’t an illusion. We had shared so many sweet moments, memories that refused to let me go. I walked over to the small safe on the desk. It felt like Pandora’s box, mysterious and dangerous. Back when we used to have sex in the study, I had asked Asher a few times what he kept inside that safe, something he treasured so much. He always dodged the question, refused to give me the code, and just teased me to guess. I tried everything. My birthday, his birthday, our wedding anniversary, but none of them worked. With trembling hands, I entered Serena’s birthday, and for the first time, I hoped I was wrong. The safe opened, and my heart plummeted. Inside was a pair of rings engraved with A&S. It stood for Asher and Serena. The design was old-fashioned, yet the rings were pristine and clearly cared for with great attention. All the strength drained from my body at that moment, leaving me hollow. It felt as though someone had carved the pain directly into my heart. No matter how naive I had been, I couldn’t deny the truth anymore. Asher had never loved me. The next day, I went against Asher’s wishes for the first time and decided to attend the party. Asher frowned slightly but didn’t stop me. Instead, he reminded me, “You can go, but Lila, you’re so beautiful. You must stay by my side. If Serena tries to bully you, I’ll be there to protect you.” Asher acted like a loyal little dog, eager to please. But I knew he wasn’t protecting me. He was afraid I’d escape his control or outshine Serena. I had no such intentions. With my staged death approaching, all I wanted was to say goodbye to the directors and screenwriters who had helped me along the way. The moment I entered, all eyes were drawn to Serena and me. Someone said, “The lead actress for Anthony’s next movie will surely be Lila. She’s got Asher backing her and undeniable talent.” Serena overheard this and stormed over. She snapped, “What makes you think that? That role is mine!” The crowd exchanged dismissive glances. “Compared to Lila, don’t you think you’re out of your league? You shouldn’t get too full of yourself.” “Exactly. Although you’re Mrs. Graham now, Lila is married into the Whitman family. It’s pretty obvious who has the upper hand here.” “Right. You’ve only won a minor film award. A little humility wouldn’t hurt.” Serena stomped her feet. “Just you wait! I’ll make you all eat your words!” She shot me a venomous glare. “And you, enjoy your moment while it lasts. Let’s see who ends up humiliated later! Ugh!” With that, Serena strode up and shoved me hard. I lost my balance and stumbled. My knee slammed into the corner of a table. The sharp pain brought tears to my eyes. But Asher, who had sworn to protect me tonight, stood by as if nothing had happened, allowing Serena to do as she pleased. I lowered my gaze, trying to suppress the bitter ache in my chest. Just then, the lights in the hall dimmed, leaving the room in darkness. It was time to reveal the lead actress of the highly anticipated film. “Let’s all congratulate… Serena Hayes! Special thanks to Sam Wheeler, the screenwriter whose work has grossed over ten billion dollars at the box office. This time, he not only waived his fee but also invested 300 million dollars to ensure Serena would star in his new movie. She’s his one and only muse, his true inspiration!” Serena ascended the stage, grabbing the microphone with a triumphant smirk. “Lila, after all these years, you still can’t beat me at anything. Loser!” She stood under the spotlight, surrounded by praise and admiration. I turned to look at Asher beside me. He held my hand, but his eyes glowed joyfully for Serena’s victory. My heart sank. I smiled bitterly. I accidentally came across Sam’s manuscript in the Whitman Villa’s study yesterday. The cover page read: [Dedicated to my one and only muse, Serena. From Sam Wheeler.] It was Asher’s love, hidden in plain sight yet never spoken aloud. I had expected this. But seeing it unfold before my eyes still sent a wave of pain through my chest. Anthony approached me, offering a soft reassurance. “It’s okay. You’ll always have a place as my leading lady.” I forced a weak smile and shook my head. “Thank you for your kindness, but perhaps there won’t be a next time.”

Feigning ignorance, Asher pulled me into his arms, offering comfort. “I’ll invest in a few movies for you to have fun with. How about that? I also planned a surprise for you tonight at Harborfront. My love for you is far more important than some movie role.” I forced a smile. Words that once felt sweet as honey now tasted like stale, cloying frosting. Still, to avoid arousing his suspicion, I swallowed my bitterness and replied, “Alright.” After expressing my gratitude to Anthony and other industry veterans, I excused myself, intending to leave early. Asher dismissed the driver, saying he wanted to take me for a drive instead. But just before the car started, his phone buzzed with a message. I glanced at the screen from the corner of my eye. The number was familiar. It was Serena’s. His expression shifted instantly. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face as he turned to me. “Lila, something urgent just came up at work. Can you head to Harborfront on your own?” I froze, then smiled lightly, “It’s fine. Go handle your business.” Asher kissed my forehead before retreating back to the party. I started the car, not toward Harborfront but back to the Whitman Villa. The rest of the night would be devoted to preparing for my staged death tomorrow. I collected every trace of my past with Asher. Online, I wiped every file and even deleted backups from the cloud. Offline, I gathered everything and planned to burn it all. Just as I was finishing, a notification popped up on my phone. It was an anonymous text. The message began with a photo of Asher, drunk, resting beside Serena. The accompanying words cut like a blade. [He has a stomach condition, yet he drank like his life depended on it to shield me. Lila, you won’t blame me for that, will you?] [Actually, although he openly opposes the Graham family to take my projects, he compensates me a hundredfold behind the scenes. Do you know why?] [Did you know that Asher has been my little shadow since we were kids? He’s only ever loved me. Marrying you was just a precaution to keep you in check.] [Surely you didn’t actually believe someone would fall in love with you out of the blue, did you?] [He told me that every night, he could only touch you by imagining you were me. He also said you’re just Ethan’s discarded secondhand woman because you didn’t give him your first time, and you are disgusting.] The texts kept pouring in like relentless snowflakes, but I remained unfazed. Instead, I focused on finishing what needed to be done. Once I had moved the mannequin into the bedroom and ensured the setup would burn thoroughly, I drenched the entire house in gasoline. Before leaving, I forwarded every message Serena had sent me to the most notorious tabloid team in the entertainment industry. Then, I snapped my SIM card in half and tossed it into the nearby bushes. With a press of the ignition button, the flames roared to life behind me as I walked away, my silhouette fading into the distance. The road ahead was pitch black, but it didn’t matter. I knew I would find daylight eventually. Meanwhile, Asher remained oblivious. He glanced down at Serena, his voice conveying unintentional reproach. “Serena, why are you here? Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary with Lila. If she finds out, she’ll get suspicious.” Serena’s eyes reddened as tears welled up. “Are you blaming me?” Asher was panicked, and he quickly backtracked. “No, no, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry, Serena.” Serena crossed her arms and huffed softly, barely satisfied by his apology. Meanwhile, calls from the Whitman Villa’s butler kept interrupting, Asher repeatedly silencing them with an irritated frown. After the tenth or so attempt, unease crept in. “What is it?” Asher snapped, finally picking up. The butler said frantically, “Mr. Whitman… Mrs. Whitman set fire to the house and took her own life! We tried our best to put out the flames, but it was too late. There’s nothing left to save.”

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I spent twelve years with Dorian Vale, only to go from being his girlfriend to his and his fiancée’s exclusive servant. After Dorian forced me for the 99th time to kneel on the shattered glass to serve as a human footstool for his fiancée, I finally felt utterly exhausted. So, I gave up on Dorian and got engaged to Gideon Whitmore, who had been pursuing me relentlessly. That day, Gideon was so emotional he broke down, sobbing at my feet, and reserved every single flower in the city for me. But on the eve of our wedding, Gideon drunkenly spilled the truth during his bachelor party with his friends. “Ah, the thought of faking it with a woman like her—used and tossed aside by who knows how many—makes my skin crawl. But what choice do I have? She refuses to have a kid for Alyssa, so I had to step up and do it myself.” And this so-called Alyssa Davis would be Dorian’s fiancée. Inside the private room, one of Gideon’s friends asked, “Does Alyssa know how much you’ve done for her?” Gideon’s voice was hoarse as he replied, “As long as she’s happy, what’s my life worth in comparison?” Standing just outside the door, I clenched the pregnancy test result tighter and tighter in my hand. So, this was the truth. Gideon’s decade-long pursuit of me and his obsessive passion every night—it was all fake. All because he feared Alyssa wouldn’t have a baby, that Dorian might leave her, and she’d suffer because of it. What a great and selfless man he turned out to be! But what did he take me for? With everything running through my mind, tears streamed down my face. Staring at Gideon’s anguished expression inside the room as he “sacrificed” himself for his so-called true love, I made up my mind. I pulled out my phone and placed a call. Once the line connected, I said firmly, “I’m ready to inherit my adoptive father’s entire estate.” The private butler responded quickly, “Very well, Ms. Westbrook. Mr. Jameson Westbrook’s private estate is now at your disposal. Your custom partner is ready, and three billion dollars will be transferred to your account immediately. However, as stipulated in the will, you can never leave the island for the rest of your life.” My eyes stung with unshed tears. “Alright, I accept.” Seven days would be enough to tie up loose ends here. At five years old, Alyssa’s mother abducted me, replacing me with her own daughter in the Davis family. Alyssa enjoyed the peaceful life that should have been mine. Even when the truth came out, my parents and fiancé still favored her. Even Gideon, who had pursued me for ten years, truly loved her. Jameson had seen through everything early on. He left me an immense fortune and built a dream estate tailored for me. His only request was that I leave and never return. Since they saw me as nothing more than a tool for Alyssa’s happiness, I might as well fulfill Jameson’s wish and spend the rest of my life in wealthy solitude. After hanging up, the butler began arranging my fake death certificate. Only by erasing all traces of me could my father, Edward Davis, my mother, Margaret Davis, Dorian, and Gideon never find me again. However, I realized there was one last thing left. My hand rested on my stomach as I bit my lip and pushed open the door to the private room. When I entered, the room fell silent. Gideon was the first to react, pulling me into his arms as he sat down. His gaze was so full of love that it nearly drowned me. “Why are you here? Did you miss me?” Before I could respond, the door slammed open again. Alyssa stumbled in, and tears streamed down her face as she saw me in Gideon’s arms. She asked pitifully, “Gideon, didn’t you promise to never marry anyone and stay by my side as a brother forever?” Instinctively, he shoved me away. Caught off guard, I crashed into the table, spilling wine all over me. My exposed skin burned like fire, instantly breaking out in a rash—I was severely allergic to alcohol. Gideon knew about my allergy, and his face twisted in panic as he looked at me. “I…” Before he could finish, Alyssa began sobbing hysterically, “Freya, I know you hate me for taking away Dad, Mom, and Dorian. I’ll kill myself right now to give it all back to you!” With that, she turned and ran out of the room. “Alyssa!” Gideon was utterly frantic. Without a second thought, he ran after her. After that whole ordeal, the private room fell into dead silence. Gideon’s friends looked at me with a mix of pity and shock, but mostly, they seemed amused, like they were watching a joke unfold. They were all waiting for me to break down, to cry and scream. But I did nothing. Instead, I slipped off the ill-fitting engagement ring on my finger and placed it on the table. “Give this back to Gideon for me.”

After getting my allergy treated, it was already late at night. Checking the time, I decided to make a quick trip home. There wasn’t much to pack—just Jameson’s handwritten will, the document that served as my key to the manor. When I reached the front of Davis Villa, I remembered I wasn’t authorized for fingerprint access, so I pressed the doorbell instead. When the door swung open, my birth mother’s face lit up with a radiant smile, only to fall apart the second her eyes landed on me. Margaret didn’t miss a beat, raising her hand and slapping me hard across the cheek. “Why are you back here? Trying to rub your engagement to Gideon in Alyssa’s face again?” Edward chimed in from the side with a sneer, “You just have to take everything, don’t you? Guess that’s what happens when you grow up in the poor countryside—no manners.” My right cheek burned from the slap, and it felt all too familiar. Since the day I was brought back to Davis Villa, I had lost count of how many random slaps like this I had endured. In front of me, Gideon was sitting on the couch with Alyssa tucked under his arm. When she saw me return, she immediately put on her pitiful act. “Freya, I’m just afraid that once you marry Gideon, he won’t want me as his sister anymore. Please don’t misunderstand.” But I said nothing. I simply went upstairs to retrieve the will. Maybe I was too calm. But when I came downstairs, there was obvious panic on Gideon’s face. He stood up and said, “Freya, I shouldn’t have left you tonight, but Alyssa has depression, and Dorian isn’t here.” I remained utterly indifferent and said, “I won’t be living here anymore.” The moment I finished speaking, the living room fell into a heavy silence. Margaret stared at me, and disbelief was written all over her face. “What are you…” I knew exactly why Margaret was shocked. Years ago, Alyssa had falsely accused me of cutting up her dress. In their fury, they tried to throw me out. Later, I stood outside in the pouring rain all night, apologizing to Alyssa hundreds of times before they let me back in. To stay in this family, I had taken on all the housework—laundry, cooking, and cleaning—while living in a cramped attic storage room. To them, my greatest fear was being abandoned. But now, none of that mattered anymore. In the manor Jameson had built for me, there were family and a partner tailored just for me. They would never drive me away. Alyssa was the first to react. She started wailing dramatically, “No! It’s me who should leave. I’m the one who upset you, Freya. I’ll go!” Margaret’s face turned pale with shock, and she rushed over to try to calm Alyssa down. Edward, on the other hand, roared at me, telling me to leave and never come back if I was going to go. Gideon, clearly flustered, grabbed my arm and spoke urgently, “Stop this nonsense. I’ll take you back home first.” He didn’t give me a chance to refuse, pulling me along as he strode out. Once we were back home, Gideon closed the door and immediately pulled me into his arms from behind. His hands slid under my shirt as he murmured, “Tomorrow is the wedding, Freya. It’s been ten years… I’ve waited ten years to marry you.” As he spoke, a single tear fell onto my neck. If I hadn’t overheard his conversation earlier tonight, I might have believed he was madly in love with me. But now, I understood perfectly. He only wanted to use my body to give Alyssa a guarantee of happiness. Suppressing the lump in my throat, I pushed Gideon away and said, “I’m not in the mood.” But he wouldn’t back down. Pinning me onto the sofa, he looked at me with pitiful eyes and asked, “Would you really leave me hanging like this?” I couldn’t help but think, “And are you fine with handing over the baby I’d carry for about nine months?” I closed my eyes and dropped my trump card. “Today isn’t my ovulation day. The chances of getting pregnant are really low.” As soon as I finished speaking, his body stiffened against mine. He quickly got up, and his gaze was still full of affection as he said, “Fine. The wedding’s tomorrow anyway. I won’t wear you out tonight.” With that, he headed to the bathroom to wash up. As the weight on top of me disappeared, I felt a hollow emptiness in my chest. I got up and quietly walked to the bathroom door. Immediately, I heard Gideon’s anxious voice through the door. “Is there any way to make Freya get pregnant quickly? Even if it means drugging her and doing IVF while she’s unconscious. Just do it. I don’t care what happens to her. Alyssa can’t wait any longer!” The tears I’d held back for so long finally spilled over. Placing a hand on my abdomen, I whispered, “I’m sorry, baby. You shouldn’t have to hide away with me, and you definitely shouldn’t be treated as a bargaining chip for your father to please someone else.” Wiping away my tears, I resolutely made a phone call. “Doctor, I’d like to schedule an abortion.”

The next day was the scheduled date for trying on the wedding dress. I had long since stopped looking forward to the wedding, but fearing Gideon might notice my indifference, I decided to go along with him. When we arrived at the shop, I saw someone I didn’t expect—Alyssa. She was wearing my wedding dress while Edward and Margaret were busy recording her with their phones. Margaret said with a laugh, “Alyssa looks much better in this. Come on, spin around for me, Sweetie. I’ll take a video of our little princess.” I turned to look at Gideon and noticed his gaze filled with doting affection. Just then, Alyssa noticed me at the door. Her eyes gleamed with triumph, but she quickly feigned panic and started removing the dress. “Freya’s here. I’d better take it off quickly, or she’ll get upset…” Only after her words did Edward and Margaret finally notice me. Perhaps it was my unusually calm expression, but Margaret hesitated briefly. Even so, she pressed Alyssa’s hands down and haughtily addressed me. “Alyssa looks stunning in this dress. Let her have it.” I stared at the dress, custom-made with thousands of imported diamonds that cost a fortune, and firmly shook my head. “No. I won’t.” This dress carried all my dreams of love. I had designed every detail myself, hoping to wear it on the day I married Gideon. Even if that dream was over, I wasn’t going to let go of something I poured my heart into. Hearing my refusal, Alyssa became more agitated. She started yanking at the dress with all her strength. “I’m not worthy of wearing this! I have no right to touch Freya’s things. I’ll give it back to her!” With that, a loud tearing sound echoed as the pristine white dress was ripped apart. I felt my breath hitch and strode forward. “You!” Before I could even touch Alyssa, she suddenly shoved me hard. I fell backward, and my head slammed into the display cabinet behind me as the glass shattered on impact. A sharp sting spread across my face, and I let out a startled cry, quickly covering my eyes with my hands. Alyssa’s sobs soon filled the air. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t hit me, Freya! I’m begging you, don’t hit me…” The next thing I knew was someone shoved me forcefully. Then, I heard Gideon’s worried voice. “Alyssa, are you okay?” I sat on the floor, clutching my aching head, and looked up at the scene in front of me. Alyssa stood in the middle of the group, and her torn dress was in a mess. Edward and Margaret surrounded her protectively while Gideon inspected her anxiously. Only after making sure Alyssa was unharmed did Gideon turn to me. “Freya, that was completely out of line…” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the blood running down my face, and his expression momentarily softened with guilt. But Edward and Margaret had no such pause. They immediately began berating me. “It’s just a dress. Did you really have to hurt Alyssa over it? Honestly, you should’ve just stayed dead out there!” It was at that moment I realized something—when pain reaches its peak, you become numb. I no longer expected their concern or cared enough to argue. I just wanted to leave. Before I could take a step, Gideon suddenly helped me up. “I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said firmly, leaving me no room to refuse. It reminded me of the time he led me away after Dorian humiliated me by making me act as a human stool for Alyssa. In the car, I sat in the passenger seat while Gideon drove. His brows were furrowed deeply. For the first time, he spoke with what felt like genuine concern, “I’m sorry about today, Freya. I’ll make sure Alyssa gets what’s coming to her.” The rare show of care left me stunned. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, the car’s Bluetooth System rang loudly. When the call connected, Margaret’s panicked voice came through. “Gideon, Alyssa locked herself in her room and slit her wrists! I can’t calm her down. Please come back right away!” The screech of brakes pierced the air as the car came to a sudden halt. The force threw me forward, and my abdomen slammed into the dashboard. Pain shot through me like a hot wave, making my vision blur. “Gideon…” I gasped, reaching out for him instinctively. Soon after, the loud slam of a car door echoed, breaking my heart into pieces. Almost instantly, the sharp and jarring sound of car horns filled the air. Gideon had left me stranded on the busy street without a second glance, rushing back to Alyssa. The pain in my abdomen grew unbearable. Blood pooled beneath me as my strength faded. I couldn’t hold on any longer and passed out cold.   When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. A doctor was the only one by my side and gently reminded me, “Ms. Westbrook, you’ve sustained an abdominal injury, and there are early signs of pregnancy complications. I recommend contacting your family to arrange for hospitalization to protect the pregnancy.” My throat felt dry, and I couldn’t manage a single word. With effort, I reached for my phone on the bedside table, only to see countless missed calls and messages from Edward, Margaret, Gideon, and even Dorian. My parents’ text read: [Are you only satisfied if you drive Alyssa to her death? She’s already given up everything to you, and you still want to take more. We should’ve never taken you back in the first place!] Dorian had messaged: [Freya, don’t think marrying Gideon is going to get to me or Alyssa. Let me make it clear. I didn’t care about you before, and I’m not going to regret it now.] Gideon also had texted: [Freya, Alyssa can’t handle the fact that I’m marrying you. Let’s postpone the wedding.] The messages were all accusations and threats—not a single one asked how I was doing. I could feel my heart slowly turning to ash. Setting the phone aside, I closed my eyes, resigned to my fate, and said to the doctor, “There’s no need. I don’t have any family. Please proceed with the abortion.” The doctor hesitated for a moment but ultimately nodded, respecting my decision. Soon, I found myself lying on the operating table. The harsh glare of the lights was so blinding I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and the anesthesia gradually began to take hold. Even so, I could still feel the cold instruments stirring inside me. I felt nothing but just a numb emptiness as I closed my eyes. The procedure didn’t just take the baby—it scraped away the last remnants of my feelings for family and love. There was nothing left for me here anymore, nothing worth staying for. When the procedure was over, I lay on the hospital bed, resting. Suddenly, hurried footsteps broke the silence. I opened my eyes to see Gideon bursting in. Our eyes met, and panic flickered in me. I hadn’t hidden the abortion paperwork on the bedside table. But before I could react, Gideon rushed forward and grabbed my hand tightly. “Freya, Alyssa has agreed to let us get married.” I furrowed my brows and just stayed silent. Then, Gideon pulled out a document. “She said she’ll agree to therapy and accept our marriage if you sign this agreement to give up your claim to the Davis family inheritance.” Upon hearing that, I felt my heart, which had already fallen into despair, still gave a sharp and painful jolt at that moment. So, this was why he rushed over—not out of concern for me, but for Alyssa. When the effects of the anesthesia faded, a dull ache began to radiate from my lower abdomen. Watching the man before me, entirely consumed with worry for another woman, I felt the final trace of love I had for him dissolve into nothing. I thought, “Gideon, do you even realize? Your deceitful pretense of love hurts more than Dorian’s blatant cruelty ever could.” Taking a deep breath to suppress the storm of emotions, I said calmly, “Give me the pen.” Gideon’s eyes brightened instantly as he hurriedly placed the pen in my hand. With deliberate strokes, I then signed my name. The moment the last stroke was complete, Gideon pulled me into his arms, and his voice trembled with joy. “Freya, I can finally marry you!” At that moment, I couldn’t tell if his happiness was for marrying me or for securing everything Alyssa wanted. But it didn’t matter anymore. Outside, the roar of helicopter blades echoed loudly. It was the private butler Jameson had arranged for me, arriving with the fake death certificate to take me away. Gideon didn’t notice a thing and hurriedly left with the agreement relinquishing my inheritance. The next moment, a butler in a perfectly tailored suit stepped into the room. He gave a polite nod at my bedside and asked, “Are you ready to leave, Ms. Westbrook?” I glanced at the abortion paperwork on the bedside table, placed it beside the death certificate, and stood up, alone in every sense of the word. “Let’s go.” The butler gave a simple “Yes” before escorting me to board the waiting helicopter. Soon, everything I’d known became specks beneath me. I took one last look below and whispered silently to myself, “Goodbye, Mom. Goodbye, Dad. Goodbye, Gideon.”

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In the fourth month of my pregnancy, my husband, Marcus Whitaker, and I had a late-night heart-to-heart, promising to be completely honest with each other. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, but then his expression turned serious. He said he slept with my sister, Ivy Langston. The room fell silent, and my smile froze on my face. He quickly waved it off as a joke, but then, almost casually, added, “But Ivy is really beautiful. Especially her stomach… it’s so flat and soft. I mean, it’s obvious, right? A woman who’s never been pregnant would have smooth, flawless skin there.” His tone was nonchalant, but the look in his eyes was wistful. In that moment, I knew what he really meant. Five years ago, I’d been pregnant. The baby died shortly after birth, and ever since, he’d secretly referred to me as “a second-hand house” when talking to his friends. And it wasn’t just a harmless joke. I drafted a divorce agreement and placed it, along with my miscarriage report, on his bedside table. Not long after I left, he lost his mind. That was when he finally remembered the baby I lost five years ago was his. ***** After my latest prenatal checkup, Marcus took me to one of my favorite restaurants. My morning sickness had been relentless, and I had to excuse myself multiple times to run to the restroom. When I returned, pale and exhausted, he suddenly broke the silence. “I dreamed of having sex last night,” he said. I looked up, puzzled. Since my pregnancy, we hadn’t been intimate. The doctor had said my health was too fragile for any strenuous activity. I didn’t understand why he’d bring up this topic. Before I could ask, he dropped the bombshell. “But the person was Ivy.” Ivy was my sister. We’d grown up together, but after I got married, we’d drifted apart. As far as I knew, she and Marcus barely knew each other. He said it so casually, then went right back to eating, as if it was nothing. Meanwhile, I sat frozen in place, the words echoing in my mind. He had mentioned this before, during our late-night chat. This was the second time today. What kind of man brought up sleeping with another woman twice in one day? I gripped my fork tightly. “And?” I asked, my voice tight. He glanced at me, his eyes lingering for a moment before he looked away with a shrug. “And? Well… it felt pretty good.” I couldn’t eat another bite. The nausea hit me like a wave, and I barely managed to hold back the bile rising in my throat. Gagging, I bolted for the restroom. When I came out, he was waiting by the door. Without missing a beat, he reached for my hand, his grip warm and firm. “Don’t take it to heart,” he said lightly. “I was just joking.” Then he leaned in, pinching my pale cheek as if to tease me. “Look at you, all worked up again. You’re still as timid as ever.” His tone was so casual and so unbothered, like he truly believed he’d done nothing wrong. After paying the bill, he held my hand as we walked to the parking lot. But with every step, the chill in my heart deepened. Once we were in the car, he leaned over to buckle my seatbelt, his movements gentle and familiar. “I’ll grab you something to settle your stomach,” he said, brushing a kiss against my forehead. “Just wait here, okay? I’ll be quick.” Because of a past car accident, I’d developed a fear of cars. To reassure me, he always held my hand during drives. Even when he had to step away, he’d make sure I was calm before leaving. He was still so attentive and careful. If I hadn’t heard his words with my own ears, I would’ve believed he was the perfect husband. As I sat there, I noticed his phone on the seat. The screen lit up, and a message popped up from Ivy. [Same place tonight. I’ve already booked the room.] My chest tightened, and my hands trembled as I stared at the screen. So it wasn’t just a joke. In the distance, I saw Marcus turning back, probably realizing he’d forgotten his phone. I closed my eyes, forcing down the storm of emotions rising inside me. Taking a deep breath, I locked the screen and placed the phone back where I’d found it.

Marcus opened the car door, scratching his head with a sheepish smile. “Look at me. I forgot my phone.” He unlocked the phone and when he saw the message, a faint glimmer of satisfaction flashed across his face. I caught the shift in his expression but said nothing. When he came back, he was holding a big bag of food. He handed me a cup of steaming coffee and said with a casual tone, “Declan’s been craving a game, babe. I’m sorry, you’ll have to take care of yourself tonight. I’m heading out to play a few rounds with him.” I glanced at the bag on the seat behind him, mostly ready-to-eat meals. He said it so easily, as if everything was in perfect order. This was how he’d always been, so thoughtful and considerate. It made me believe, without a doubt, that he loved me deeply. He leaned over and kissed my cheek gently, his hand resting on my growing belly. “Take care of your mom tonight, little one. I’ll be back a bit late.” His voice was so gentle and loving that it would make anyone think he was the ideal father-to-be. But the familiar wave of nausea hit me again, and I fought to push it down. Even with the warmth of the coffee in my hands, I couldn’t shake the cold feeling creeping through my body. Before, he would’ve noticed something was off with me immediately. But now, after seeing that message from Ivy, his mind was somewhere else entirely. Just before I got out of the car, I asked casually, “What time will you be back tonight? I’ll wait for you.” He barely glanced up from his phone, distracted. “Declan’s tough to beat. Maybe by eleven. You should head inside.” I grabbed the heavy bag of food, feeling like it was weighing me down with every step. The moment I stepped out of the car, the door slammed shut, and the car sped off quickly. I was startled by the suddenness, my heart racing in panic. He knew how much I feared cars, yet after seeing that message, he couldn’t care less. I stood alone on the empty street, my chest aching with an unbearable weight. The ridiculous part was that Declan Mercer was Ivy’s boyfriend. Even though we hadn’t been as close in recent years, I’d always cared about her. She was the family I trusted the most. The few times Marcus had interacted with her were during her visits to see me. But I remembered the way her eyes lit up when she first saw him. He had mentioned it, but I never thought much of it, joking, “Ivy always gets starry-eyed around handsome guys. Consider it a compliment. She likes your looks!” I never imagined she could be interested in my husband. But reality shattered that illusion. While I was struggling with severe morning sickness, unable to eat or sleep, the two people I loved the most were betraying me. The pain hit me like a slap, a feeling I couldn’t escape. It was only when I dug deeper that I realized just how far things had gone. After the conversation with Marcus the night before, I couldn’t sleep. His words about Ivy kept playing in my mind. As soon as I felt his breathing steady beside me, I grabbed my phone and started scrolling through both his and Ivy’s social media. Marcus didn’t post much, and when he did, it was usually about me. Ivy’s posts, on the other hand, were mostly makeup tips and fashion. But something in my gut told me this wasn’t the whole story. I went through her liked posts one by one, and what I found made my blood run cold.

From time to time, Ivy would use a few accounts to repost giveaway posts, asking me to help her like them. She probably didn’t realize one of those accounts still had my likes on it. When I clicked through the profile, I thought for a second that I had accidentally opened a porn website. There, in front of me, were a series of suggestive photos, different lingerie sets, all worn by the same woman. And standing behind her was a man with his chest exposed. In nearly every image, she was draped over him, striking one provocative pose after another. The man, playing along, had his hand resting on her soft belly, his large palm seeming to engulf her tiny waist. The contrast was raw, almost animalistic. The captions were just as daring. [What should I do if I slept with my sister’s husband? Hope she doesn’t hate me for it.] The comment section thought it was all a joke and offered playful suggestions. [Divorce? Nah, he adores my sister. He’s not leaving her.] [My sister’s pregnant, and I’ve had my eye on her husband for ages. So, yeah… I just went for it.] Then, as the comments grew bolder, some started calling her out. [My sister and I look so much alike. Why does she get such a good guy, and I don’t?] [If you want him, just take him, right? Guess what? I did. LOL.] At first, I convinced myself that it was just Ivy being her usual over-the-top self. She’d always been that way. Posting strange and cryptic things wasn’t anything new. Plus, I never thought Marcus would cheat. But then I came across one particular picture, and suddenly, all my confidence shattered. In that photo, Ivy was lying on the man’s chest, her body pressed so close. And just above his heart, the tattoo was my initials. I remembered when he had gotten that tattoo, he swore to me, “Evelyn, I’m putting you as close to my heart as possible. I’ll love you forever.” But the caption that went with that picture was: [My sister’s husband is amazing in bed. He even said it’s way better than with my sister.] [Men just love little temptresses like me.] As I looked at the sleeping face of Marcus in the photo, everything inside me came crashing down. I rushed to the bathroom, vomiting until I thought I might pass out. His promises were still echoing in my head, but the man who had made them had already turned his back on me. As memories of everything we’d been through together flashed before my eyes, I tried to tell myself it wasn’t real. But today, his blatant hints had destroyed every last piece of hope. He really betrayed me. Around 11 PM, Marcus called. “Evelyn, Declan’s friend just opened a new internet cafe. He wants me to join him for an all-nighter, so I won’t be home tonight.” I could hear his breath, heavy and forced, as if he was trying to hide something. I lowered my gaze and, keeping my voice steady, asked, “Still not done with the game?” On the other end, I heard a soft giggle from a woman, followed by the sound of someone muffling a moan. Marcus quickly replied, “Go to sleep early. I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow.” The call ended with a click, leaving me with the sound of a busy signal. I stared out at the dark night beyond the window, feeling a coldness spread inside me, like I was trapped in an endless void.   Even though the giggle was soft, I immediately recognized it was Ivy. I had become an unwilling part of their twisted little game. I had expected to break down and cry, but strangely, I felt unnervingly calm. Without a second thought, I dialed Declan. “Evelyn, what’s up at this hour?” “Is Marcus with you?” I asked directly. There was a brief, noticeable pause on the other end, before Declan quickly gathered himself. “Yeah, Marcus said the weather’s nice and invited me for a night jog. “He went to buy water, so he’ll probably be a while.” A cold, bitter smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. One lie after another had been spun into a huge web, trapping me for all these years. I spoke in an icy tone, “Declan, stop lying. I know Marcus is cheating on me.” There was a brief silence from him. Just as he was about to come up with an excuse, I had already sent him Ivy’s post. When he saw the content, he went dead silent, disbelief flooding his voice. “How could this… Ivy, she would never…” He’d been covering for Marcus, and now the truth had turned the tables on him. It turned out that someone was even more pitiful than I was. Declan’s voice was shaky, and after a long pause, he finally let out a heavy sigh. “Evelyn, I’m sorry. Thank you for telling me the truth. “If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.” I did need something from him. “Gather all the evidence of Marcus’ affair and send it to me.” He agreed quickly and then hesitated before asking, “Evelyn… do you want a divorce?” “Yes.” After a long silence, he sent over a few screenshots of their chat. “This is all I could find for now. If you need more, I’ll dig around some more.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “Thanks.” I hung up, taking several deep breaths to steady myself before finally opening the images. Even though I had mentally prepared myself, seeing what was in those pictures made my world spin. My blood seemed to rush to my head, and I nearly collapsed. A wave of anger and injustice rushed through me, and I shook uncontrollably, my hands losing their grip on the phone. It slipped from my fingers and hit the floor. I collapsed to my knees, my hands clutching my face as I cried. The phone screen, still on, displayed the text so clearly. Declan: [Marcus, next time you use me as an excuse for your affair, could you give me a heads up? You almost blew my cover!] Marcus’ reply was indifferent. [Don’t worry. She won’t suspect it.] Declan: [Evelyn’s so gorgeous. Aren’t you satisfied? Nine months isn’t that long to wait.] Marcus took forever to reply this time. He seemed disgusted by the topic. [She’s just got a pretty face. Who knows how many men she’s been slept with before?] [Thinking about her having a kid… it makes me sick. If it wasn’t for her still being able to have children, I wouldn’t even bother with her.] I couldn’t bring myself to look at any more of it. Tears streamed down my face. My stomach twisted painfully, and I felt nauseous, but nothing came up. I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe properly, until I shakily picked up the phone again. Seeing Marcus’ profile picture, my own photo used as his avatar, I felt disoriented. My stomach clenched, almost as though it was protesting on my behalf. I could’ve chosen to forget it all and move on with my life, but the moment I saw Marcus again, I threw myself at him without hesitation. In the eyes of the man I loved so deeply, I was nothing but dirty, yet that child who died right after birth five years ago was also his.

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The wedding had reached the ring exchange. My husband, Adrian Blake, stood there, but it was Sienna Lowell, his beloved, who appeared in a wedding dress, standing right in front of him. She looked at him and asked, “Adrian, you once promised me that if I ever wore a wedding dress, you’d marry me in the next life. Does that still hold true?” In an instant, Adrian’s eyes reddened. He pulled Sienna into a tight embrace and said, his voice thick with emotion, “Yes. In the next life, you will be my bride, and only you.” Sienna shot me a smug look. “Eleanor, you’ll have to take good care of Adrian for me.” Guests murmured among themselves, eager to see me make a fool of myself. I stood there, watching the two of them kiss passionately, completely oblivious to everything around them. With a smile, I shoved my bouquet into Sienna’s hands. “If that’s the case, why don’t you just marry him? “You’re just the other woman. No matter how sweetly you speak, it won’t change the truth.” ***** Eight years of marriage, and I swallowed my bitterness, bending over backward to please the Blake family, all in the hopes of saving this loveless, business-driven marriage. Then, unexpectedly, I got pregnant, and that was when the Blake family finally agreed to give me a wedding. I thought that with a child on the way, Adrian might finally come around. But right now, he was still holding Sienna, the one he had always cherished, kissing her as if the world didn’t matter. My heart twisted in pain as I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears. In that moment, I couldn’t take it anymore. Why did I always have to sacrifice for everyone else? Because of my words, Sienna went pale, almost collapsing into Adrian’s arms. “Adrian… I feel so sick. Is it my condition acting up?” Adrian’s face turned pale as he scooped her up and rushed out of the hotel. Before he left, he turned to me, furiously shouting, “Eleanor, your jealousy is completely irrational. If anything happens to Sienna, I swear I won’t forgive you!” Neither Adrian’s parents nor my own father could stop him. The cameras flashed relentlessly, and the priest stood awkwardly beside me. My father slapped me across the face, his anger erupting. “You worthless fool! Can’t even keep your husband.” With that, he told me to think things through and left me standing there, alone. Adrian’s mother shot me a cold look. “Eleanor, don’t blame me for saying this, but why are you throwing a tantrum in front of everyone? Now you’ve driven Adrian away, and all anyone’s going to do is laugh at both our families!” To Adrian’s mother, being married to him meant swallowing all your hurt and never humiliating him publicly. How ridiculous. If that was what was expected of me, then I wouldn’t marry him. As the guests trickled out, I walked outside, clutching my wedding dress, watching the cars drive away one by one. The storm was fierce, lightning flashing, rain pouring. Behind me, the once-bustling banquet hall stood empty. When the Blake family’s car finally drove off, my father’s car pulled up in front of me. The back window rolled down, revealing my father’s grim expression. The hurt I had been holding inside hit me all at once. I bit back the tears, my voice trembling as I said, “Dad…” Just as I reached for the door handle, I heard the sound of it locking. I froze in disbelief. My father’s voice was cold with fury. “Eleanor, this marriage was bought with your mother’s life. You’d better reflect on yourself and find a way to win Adrian back. “You’re carrying his child now. No matter what, Sienna can’t compete with you.” I couldn’t believe my ears. “Dad, what are you saying?” He ignored me, ordered the driver to start the car, and with the window rolling back up, the car sped off. The hem of my wedding dress got soaked by the rain, and as I watched the car disappear into the distance, the tears I’d been holding back finally began to fall. The hotel was on top of a mountain with no signal or taxis. I borrowed an umbrella from a staff member, noticing the pity in her eyes as she handed it to me. Holding the umbrella and my heavy wedding dress, I trudged down the mountain in my high heels. The rain soaked me through, and every step became harder than the last. The heels of my shoes dug into my feet, leaving them raw and bleeding. Finally, halfway down the mountain, I got a signal on my phone. A dozen missed calls from Adrian popped up. There was also a text. He wanted to know why I couldn’t stand Sienna, insisting she was just a friend to him. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. Adrian and I had been childhood sweethearts, and Sienna was just a poor girl I had helped back in high school. When I was eighteen, Adrian came to visit my family. But then a fire broke out. My mother pushed him out with her last strength, sacrificing herself in the flames. Her last words to him were, “Adrian, take care of Eleanor.” We had gotten engaged, and he had promised me he would always take care of me. But in college, he met Sienna. She took advantage of my kindness, worming her way between us until she captured his heart. The person who had once promised to protect me now had someone else he wanted to protect more.

I snapped back to reality when my phone pinged with a video. It was from Sienna. In the video, Adrian was holding her close, his eyes red, repeatedly kissing her forehead as he begged, “Sienna, please, don’t let anything happen to you.” A sharp pang hit my chest as I recalled the time I had a car accident, my legs crushed and shattered. I was left lying in a pool of blood until strangers rushed me to the hospital. When I came to, I begged them to call Adrian. His response was cold and indifferent. “What’s the point of calling if you’re not dead? Am I a doctor? What do you expect me to do?” I spent a month in the hospital, but he never showed up. Later, I learned that on that day, Sienna and he had gotten into a fight, and when she accidentally fell down the stairs and hurt her ankle, all his anger and worry shifted onto me. I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, my heart heavy with self-mockery. It took me all these years to realize that I had wasted eight years of my life on a man who wasn’t worth a second of it. I walked down the mountain, ready to take a taxi when Adrian’s call came in. I answered, and his voice came at me like a slap. “Eleanor, Sienna is having an anxiety attack because of you. Get over here and apologize!” Struggling to hold my umbrella against the fierce wind, I replied, “I’m still at the hotel.” At that moment, a thunderstorm cracked overhead, and the rain came down harder. Adrian faltered for a moment, his tone suddenly tinged with concern. “You’re alone at the hotel? Didn’t they take you back? Where’s the driver? “Forget it. I’ll come get you…” Before he could finish, Sienna’s voice broke through, thick with tears. “Adrian, is Eleanor still mad at me? It’s all my fault… “I love you so much. I know I’m not as good as her…” Adrian immediately rushed to comfort her. A few seconds later, he barked into the phone, “Eleanor, what’s your problem? Why make such a big deal out of something so small? If you could just be more generous, I wouldn’t…” All the lingering attachment I had vanished in an instant. A bitter smile curled on my lips as I cut him off. “Adrian, let’s get a divorce. “I’m not apologizing to Sienna. I’ll step aside. Let the two of you have each other.” If they were so in love, then I’d make way for this pair of scumbags. It was him who promised to love me forever and take care of me for the rest of my life. I believed in him, and that was why I chose him. Why couldn’t he just stay true to it? I hung up and took a taxi. Without a second thought, I told the driver to take me to the hospital. The wind and rain battered the car window, and with every drop that hit the glass, the numbness in my heart slowly started to come back. When I entered the hospital, the nurse took one look at my wedding dress and asked if I needed help. I forced a smile. “Can you schedule an abortion for me?” The nurse froze, her eyes full of sympathy. As I paid for the procedure, I noticed Adrian and Sienna nearby. They didn’t see me, but I overheard their conversation. Adrian’s voice was icy. “Sienna, Eleanor needs to apologize for what she’s done. “She’s been with me for eight years, and no one else is ever going to want her. If she still wants to be my wife, she’d better start listening.” I stood frozen in the corner. I thought after everything that had happened today, my heart wouldn’t hurt anymore, but it still did. As I lay on the operating table, I saw the ultrasound image of the baby. A tear slipped from my eye. The doctor said, “The baby is healthy. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it? “You can still discuss it with the father.” I thought of their smug faces, gritted my teeth, and replied, “No. Just get rid of it.”

After the surgery, I spent two days in the hospital. When I finally went home, it felt eerily quiet and empty. It seemed like Adrian had been with Sienna this whole time. Just as I was lost in thought, Sienna’s message popped up, right on cue. It was a video. There was Adrian in the kitchen, wearing an apron, cooking for her. Sienna sent a message: [Eleanor, so what if you married Adrian? He only loves me.] I clicked my tongue. Of course, she’d included more pictures, just to rub it in. Her social media had been flooded with updates, her with Adrian, getting all this attention for being spoiled and doted on. Everyone was watching, envying her. I quickly took screenshots of everything and saved them as evidence, then blocked her. After packing up my things, I checked into a hotel. I took a long bath, then collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. I hadn’t gone into work these past few days, just resting at the hotel. In the meantime, my dad had called me a few times. When he found out I wasn’t with Adrian, he immediately started yelling. “If you don’t fix things with Adrian, you’re not my daughter!” I didn’t hesitate. “I’m not going back to him.” Then, I blocked him too. When I finally showed up at the office, I noticed everyone was acting weird around me. My secretary came up to me, looking uneasy. “Ms. Sterling, there’s a huge scandal online! No one knew you and Mr. Blake were married… “Everyone thought Sienna was his wife.” I pulled up the news and immediately saw the headline: [Heiress Steals Groom!] I glanced through the post, and it was just another scandalous story about a high-society wedding gone wrong. The headline painted a picture of the groom abandoning his wife to run off with his lover. Even the Blake Group had been dragged through the mud. Then, Adrian called. “Eleanor, you need to handle the online mess! What have you been doing all this time?” I snorted, “This is your problem, not mine. You can deal with it.” Before, I would’ve jumped in to help him clean up his mess, but now, I didn’t owe him anything anymore. Later, when work was over, Adrian was waiting for me outside the building. He rushed over, grabbed my arm, and practically shoved me into his car. “Why are you still throwing a tantrum? Sienna almost had a breakdown, and you’re still acting like this? You’re being petty. “You’re 30, for crying out loud. Stop throwing these childish fits. “Fine. I’ll take you to your favorite restaurant, and we’ll call it even.” He handed me a gift box. Inside was a butterfly brooch. The price tag was still attached, and the six-figure price practically slapped me in the face. It reminded me of how, whenever we fought in the past, he would buy me things, cook for me, or make a list of stuff for me to choose from, trying to fix things with some shallow gesture. But now, it felt so hollow, like I was supposed to just accept whatever he threw my way. I ignored the smug look on his face, tossing the box aside in the car. “I don’t want it. Give it to Sienna instead. She might like it more. “After all, she’s already wearing the wedding ring you gave me yesterday. One more ring won’t make a difference.” His expression immediately shifted, the smugness fading as a flicker of unease passed over his face. I continued, “Look, I’m not throwing a tantrum here. I’ve just come to my senses. Since you and Sienna are so determined to be together, I’ll step aside. We’ll find a time, and you can divorce me.” It was almost laughable. When Adrian and I first got married, he’d claimed he was too busy to have a wedding, and I didn’t mind. But then, one night at a gathering, I saw them, Adrian holding Sienna close, surrounded by friends. He’d said, “I don’t feel much for Eleanor anymore. “Her mom saved me, and her family’s company helps mine. Giving her a title is just my way of repaying her. “But my love? That’s for Sienna, and only her.” I stood there outside the door, my heart breaking as they kissed, oblivious to the pain they were causing. Our marriage was nothing but a bargain and gesture of sympathy. And now, I didn’t want it anymore.   Adrian’s eyes were blazing red with anger. He slammed his hand hard on the steering wheel and shouted, “Eleanor, are you threatening me now? “All these years you’ve been kissing up to my family like a dog, and you’ve gone to all that trouble just to get pregnant with my kid. What? You don’t want to be my wife anymore? “It’s not like I didn’t plan on giving you a wedding. I’ll make it up to you next time! We’re already married, and yet Sienna still gets nothing. How long are you going to keep dragging this out?” He always thought I’d used some kind of trick to get pregnant with his child. But the truth was, that night, he’d been drunk and said that if I wanted to secure my place, I needed to have a child. And after one night of madness, I got pregnant. But now, Adrian regretted it. He honked the car horn sharply, his frustration mounting. If it were me from the past, I’d apologize, grovel, whatever it took. But today, I just didn’t care anymore. Adrian drove in silence, his face tense, clearly waiting for me to beg for his forgiveness. But I didn’t say a word. His eyes flicked to me, looking confused. I closed my eyes and turned my face to the window, pretending I didn’t see him. “Dear,” he said awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure how to address me anymore. But I acted like I didn’t hear. Just as we were nearing our destination, Sienna was calling him. Her voice came through, sweet but trembling with fake tears. “Adrian, the power went out at my place, and I’m all alone, so scared… I feel like there are eyes on me… Am I going to die?” I was about to lose my patience. Anyone could tell she was faking it, but Adrian, as usual, was blind to it, falling for her act every time. Before he could speak, I cut him off, “Pull over. You go ahead.” Adrian blinked, clearly stunned. “Aren’t you jealous? Don’t you want to throw a tantrum and beg me to stay?” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. In the past, I’d have thrown a fit whenever Adrian was about to go see Sienna. He’d yell at me, calling me petty, accusing me of being a jealous wife. And he’d tell me to learn from Sienna, how she was always so sweet and kind. I grabbed my bag, opened the door, and was about to get out of the car when Adrian grabbed my wrist. “Eleanor, I’ll just check on her. I’ll be right back. “Go home and wait for me. Don’t worry. You’re the only one who can be my wife.” I interrupted him. “Don’t waste time. She needs you right now, so hurry up and go.” Adrian tightened his grip on my wrist. “Don’t be jealous…” I pulled my hand free, grinning. “I’m not.” I stepped out of the car and hailed a taxi back to the hotel. After grabbing a quick bite, I went straight to bed. I didn’t know how much time had passed before Adrian’s call woke me up. His voice was hesitant, but urgent. “Eleanor, Sienna really needs me right now. You go ahead and eat. Don’t wait for me.” I yawned, completely unbothered. “I already ate.” There was a long pause on the other end of the line, then his voice came back, a little sharper, tinged with frustration. “Are you doing this on purpose?” I chuckled coldly and hung up, sinking back into bed to sleep. The next morning, I woke up to a dozen missed calls and a barrage of messages from him, each one more desperate than the last. [Eleanor, so you want to play this game, huh? Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!] I still didn’t get what he meant. But when I got to the office and saw that Sienna had been promoted to director, with all my projects now under her name, I finally understood. Sienna had been parading around in front of me, acting all high and mighty, and I’d just brushed her off as a joke. Meanwhile, Adrian was picking her up for lunch every day, buying her gifts, and looking at me like I was the enemy. I honestly wondered if his brain had gone off the rails. The gossip online was blowing up, but the Blake Group hadn’t said a word in response. It wasn’t until two days later that Adrian showed up at my door, and the first thing he said was, “Next week, you’re coming with me to a press conference to clear the air. We’re going to announce that Sienna isn’t the mistress. “It’s you who ruined my relationship with her, and you trapped me into marrying you by getting pregnant.”   “Are you out of your mind?” I shot him a sharp look. Adrian clearly didn’t like my response, but he pressed on. “Look, after this whole mess, you’re still my wife. It’s just a little public criticism. “You’ve got the Sterling family behind you, but Sienna only has me. “And this whole situation? It’s a result of your impulsiveness at the wedding. You need to deal with it.” I didn’t even think twice and slapped him hard across the face. “Adrian, you’re disgusting. “Get out!” He froze for a second, clearly shocked, but didn’t try to retaliate. He left in a fit of rage, his pride wounded. Honestly, his words were almost laughable. Why should I help him and Sienna fix their mess? Did they think I was some kind of pushover? Not long after, his parents came knocking. With an air of superiority, they said, “Eleanor, don’t think that just because you’re pregnant with Adrian’s child, you can do whatever you want. “Your family still depends on our family’s support, and if you don’t want the contract to get canceled, you better do what Adrian tells you.” I gave them the same cold attitude I’d given Adrian. Then, without another word, I resigned from the Blake Group. I wasn’t desperate for a job. As I was a top-tier university graduate, companies were lining up for me. But when I reached out to them, everyone hesitated. I knew it was the Blake family pulling strings. But I wasn’t going to back down. Then, out of the blue, an overseas investment firm reached out. They were looking for an investment manager, and the pay was just as good as what I’d get locally. I hesitated, thinking about my dad being the only one at home. “Let me think about it, and I’ll get back to you soon.” As soon as I got back to the hotel, the butler called. “Ms. Sterling, Mr. Sterling is having an asthma attack. You should come home right away.” I panicked and rushed back. But when I opened the door, to my surprise, Adrian and his mother were there. My dad was sitting with them, happily sipping coffee and chatting. I froze, my heart sinking. I’d been betrayed again. To my father, I was nothing more than a pawn. At dinner, Adrian, ever the “thoughtful” husband, picked up food for me. My dad, seeing this, couldn’t stop praising him. “Eleanor, look how good Adrian is to you. Why are you still holding a grudge?” It was sickening. He was supposed to be the elder, yet here he was, groveling at Adrian’s feet because our company was struggling. He turned to Adrian’s mother, chatting as if I weren’t even there. “At the wedding, Eleanor was just too willful. I’ve already given her a good talking to.” My dad’s behavior made all my efforts over the past few days seem like a joke. Adrian shot me a smug look. “Peter, you’re exaggerating. “Eleanor and I are married, so I’m not going to make a big deal out of it. But as for the press conference…” The smugness in his voice made my stomach churn. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, slamming my glass down hard. “Enough, Dad, am I even your daughter? “Why is it that every time something happens, you never stand by me? I’ve told you a hundred times. I’m done with Adrian!” Adrian frowned, unable to understand why I was being so stubborn. I used to cave in whenever he spoke. My dad, angry, slammed his fork down and grabbed the ashtray. Without warning, he threw it at my head. Blood immediately started to trickle down. He snapped, “Eleanor, you’re not a kid anymore! You’re thirty years old. “Being with Adrian, you should be grateful and take good care of his family. “And now you’re talking about divorce? Over something so small at the wedding? You’re not just thinking about yourself. What about our family and the baby you’re carrying?” The pain in my head was intense. Adrian was stunned. He rushed to my side, clearly shaken. “Are you alright? I’ll take you to the hospital.” He glared at my dad. “Peter, Eleanor is my wife, and she’s carrying my child. If you ever raise your hand to her again, I won’t let it slide.” My dad’s face changed, and for the first time, he looked a little afraid. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly and pushed Adrian’s hand away. “What are you pretending for? You’re the one who set all this up, aren’t you?” For a rare moment, I saw panic flash across his face, and he stammered, “Eleanor… let me explain…” “Fine. If you all want me to take the blame for Sienna being the third party, I’ll do it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when it all blows up!”   I grabbed my bag and stormed out of the house. As I slid into the car, I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Adrian chasing after me. He stood outside for a long time, his figure fading in the distance. His calls and texts flooded in. [Eleanor, I know this has been unfair to you. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you, I promise.] [I’ll arrange another wedding for us. This time, I’ll make sure it’s everything you deserve.] I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. He knew I was wronged, but what did that change? Every time something involving Sienna came up, Adrian lost all sense of reason, and I was always going to be the one left holding the bag. I deleted his contact and blocked him without a second thought. After that, I went to the hospital to get my wounds treated. When I got home, my dad’s phone calls were relentless. “Eleanor, are you trying to kill me? If you don’t go make things right with Adrian, I’ll just let my asthma take me!” His voice, full of anger and frustration, made me close my eyes in exhaustion. When my mom was still around, my dad pampered me like no one else. But after she passed, and after my engagement to Adrian, it felt like he slowly started changing. I’d once been the recipient of so much love from both of them… I replied, “Your body is yours, Dad. If you want to suffer, go ahead, but I won’t stop you.” Then I hung up. I shot off a message to the company abroad, letting them know I was ready to join. ***** The press conference was scheduled for Monday. It was also the day the Sterling and Blake families would announce their partnership to develop a new product. It was almost comical. Even now, with everything going on, they were still trying to milk the media for profit. When I arrived in a white suit, the media swarmed around me instantly. Adrian and Sienna showed up shortly after, stepping out of the car. Seeing me surrounded by reporters, Adrian rushed forward and pulled me into his arms. “Make way! Clear the path!” I tried to pull away, but he leaned in and whispered urgently, “Be careful. You’re pregnant.” Flashes from the cameras hit me, blinding me for a moment. I let him guide me inside, ignoring the chaos. Once we were inside, the journalists had already set up their equipment. Sienna shot me a smug, taunting smile. I smirked internally, curious to see if she’d still be smiling in a minute. The interview kicked off, and two reporters immediately stood up, throwing sharp questions my way. “Ms. Sterling, don’t you feel ashamed for meddling in Ms. Lowell and Mr. Blake’s relationship?” “I heard you married Mr. Blake by drugging him, sleeping with him, and using dirty tricks to get pregnant. Is that really how the Sterling family raises their daughters?” “I’ve also heard that Ms. Lowell’s anxiety disorder was caused by you. Is that true?” Before I could respond, Adrian, looking as though he’d just seen a ghost, snapped, “Who told you to ask that?” I shot him a cold look, scoffing inwardly. There was no way he didn’t know what I’d be facing at this press conference. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, filled with regret and helplessness, but I wasn’t going to spare him a second glance. I took the microphone, smiling lightly. “Since you two are obviously such good friends of Sienna, I understand why you’d have no problem spreading rumors. I’ve heard worse.” They looked guilty but still tried to play tough. “Ms. Sterling, you keep avoiding the question. Are you feeling guilty?” I simply smiled back at them. Seeing my attitude, they didn’t dare press any further. After all, with so many cameras around, finding out who they were wouldn’t take much effort. Sienna, sensing something was off, pretended to look pale and weak, swaying on her feet. Adrian immediately rushed to her side and held her up. “Sienna, are you feeling bad again?” “I feel terrible, Adrian. I want to go home.” He glanced over at me briefly, then grabbed her hand. “Just a little longer. It’ll be over soon.” Sienna gritted her teeth, clinging to his arm like a lifeline. I watched them coldly, tuning out their drama as the questions kept coming, still filled with words like “homewrecker” and “shameless”. When it seemed like things were winding down, I opened my bag, pulled out a USB drive, and clicked it open. “You all like calling me the mistress? Why don’t you take a look and see who the real one is?” With that, the screen behind me flickered to life, instantly showing a series of photos of Sienna from her time studying abroad. Those were all images of her in intimate poses with several different men.

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The whole world knew that Mason Whitmore treasured his wife above all else. In order to fulfill my dream of becoming an actress, he was willing to spend several hundred million dollars to tailor a movie for me. Simply because I said I missed him, he braved a heavy snowstorm and walked over a dozen miles to visit me on set. Even on our wedding day, he had our love story broadcast on commercial screens worldwide, allowing seven billion people to witness our perfect romance. But deep down, I knew that my child and I were nothing but pawns to make his first love regret her decisions. Later, he got what he wanted, and I completely disappeared from his world. Yet, he went crazy… ***** “Are you sure you want to take this international flight? It’s a 30-hour journey, and such a young child might not be able to bear it.” “Yes, I’m sure.” After receiving my affirmative reply, the airline staff on the phone asked for my personal information and remarked, “You and Mr. Whitmore must have a great relationship. Are you going to Acria for a vacation together?” I smiled and didn’t respond. I just gently patted my daughter, who was sound asleep in the stroller. Acria was remote and sparsely populated. There, no one would recognize me or Mason. Only in that place could I give Anna a normal childhood. A moment later, I received a notification on my phone that the flight ticket had been successfully booked. The agent called, “Your flight ticket and documents are almost ready. The visa will likely take about another month to come through.” I thought, “A month…” I lowered my gaze, my eyes fixed on the printed itinerary by the bed. In the past, Mason always avoided being on camera, but this time, he agreed to join a couples’ variety show for the sake of our daughter. The destination for the final episode of the show was Uchya. That was where I decided to marry him. At that time, I was already a somewhat famous actress. Afraid of being recognized, we always moved around in secret. He was willing to stay with me without any complaints. By the deserted arch bridge, he handed me a contract and knelt on one knee before me, saying, “Charlotte, I’ve acquired the best film agency in the industry to support you. Have you considered giving me a rightful place in your life? I promise I will give you the most perfect love in the world. Back then, I didn’t know that, in truth, he had already broken his promise from the start. His so-called perfect love was nothing but a massive lie. The only person he ever loved was Harper Sterling, the first love who had resolutely abandoned him when he fell into a financial crisis. Later, after returning to the country, the two of them got entangled once again. And I, along with our child, were nothing more than tools he used to make her regret her choices after his success. The door creaked softly. Mason gently wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. The natural scent of sandalwood immediately enveloped me. “Darling, did Anna make a fuss today?” I shot him a cold look, subtly pushing him away, and asked, “Why are you back so early?” He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I missed my precious ones.” As he spoke, our daughter in the stroller began to cry. Mason, usually strict and decisive in public, immediately bent down and picked up Anna, gently rocking her in his arms. He let her wriggle around and wrinkle his expensive shirt. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Daddy will make you some milk…” With that, he carried her into the kitchen. The glass door muffled the sound. His back was broad, and Anna obediently lay on his shoulder. While making milk for our daughter, he didn’t forget to warm up a bowl of dessert for me. Love for the wife and pampering of the daughter, what a heartwarming scene. But the next moment, a sharp ringtone broke the silence. The caller ID showed a sun emoji. My eyelashes fluttered, and I picked up Mason’s phone, which he had casually left on the coffee table. As soon as I answered, a cry echoed from the other end. “Mason, you already have a wife and a daughter. Why do you keep sleeping with me over and over again? What do you even take me for…” What a dramatic, tragic storyline it was, if the male lead hadn’t been my husband, that is. Mason, still unaware of what had just happened, gently shook Anna’s small hand in the kitchen and waved at me. He mouthed to me, “I love you.” The woman on the phone was still crying. I forced a bitter smile at him but didn’t respond to his silent declaration of love. After all, from that moment on, I no longer wanted that love.

When Mason returned with the milk bottle, his gaze automatically shifted to the two identical phones on the coffee table. “Who called you just now?” I answered honestly, “It’s your phone.” The moment my words fell, his expression stiffened. He quickly grabbed the phone and started checking the call log. It wasn’t until his finger stopped on the sun emoji that I casually added, “Maybe it was a wrong number. I only said a quick hello, and then there was complete silence. “I waited for over twenty seconds without hearing anything, so I just hung up.” With that, I took Anna from his arms and, feigning innocence, asked, “What’s wrong? You look a little strange, honey.” Of course, he shook his head. With a smile, he gently pressed a kiss to my forehead and said, “I suddenly feel like I love you even more.” After saying that, he awkwardly changed the subject. “Anna’s birthday happens to fall during that variety show. I planned to invest an extra few hundred thousand dollars to book the venue and celebrate her first birthday on the show.” I looked down at our daughter, sitting on the carpet and playing with toys, and though I was about to refuse, the words got caught in my throat. After all, it would be her only birthday with both parents present. ***** On the day of the recording, Mason held Anna in one arm, his other hand firmly holding mine. In front of us, a six-tiered cake full of childish charm stood, decorated with vibrant colors. “Anna, do you like the cake?” Colorful ribbons cascaded down in response, and Anna waved her little hands, reaching for them. She giggled and babbled excitedly. But then, without warning, a few words suddenly slipped out. “Da… Daddy!” The moment I clearly heard the sound, I stared in disbelief at my smiling daughter. A mix of emotions surged within me. Mason, on the other hand, was visibly thrilled, his expression showing unmasked joy. “Honey, did Anna just call me ‘Daddy’? Sweetheart, call it again,” he urged, his excitement showing. Under great excitement, he announced he would give every staff member on set a monetary gift worth several thousand dollars. Immediately, the dozens of staff members present broke into smiles, eager to shower Anna with praise. I held Anna’s hand and finally, from the heart, flashed a genuine smile because of her. Amidst the joyful atmosphere, there was suddenly a loud crash from the filming crew’s side. Following the sound, I looked over to see a woman with an innocent appearance, her eyes welling with tears, standing next to the knocked-over tripod. She shot a deep, lingering glance at Mason before she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer and turned to run off. Mason, who had just made a promise, instinctively stepped forward but froze when our eyes met, his expression quickly retracting. He complained in a low voice, trying to hide his true emotions, “No professionalism at all! Who brought this person in?” But when it came time for Anna’s first birthday ceremony, he seemed distracted. His gaze repeatedly flicked towards the filming crew as if searching for someone. As nightfall approached, he made an excuse to leave, saying he had something urgent to attend to. The ancient town, with its small bridges and flowing water, was bathed in the soft glow of yellow lights. It was almost nine o’clock. According to Mason’s original plan, we were supposed to take Anna to the Blessing Bridge to make Anna’s first birthday wish. But he still had not returned. The crew was waiting, and I sensed something was off. Reluctantly, I had no choice but to hurry and search for Mason with Anna in my arms. As we passed by the arch bridge, I caught sight of two intertwined figures in the shadows beside the bridge. The moment I heard the sound, I instinctively covered Anna’s ears. But I could only helplessly endure their intimate, breathy whispers piercing my eardrums. “Harper, why are you crying? Can’t you bear it?” Mason gripped her wrist tightly, pressing her body against the rough tree trunk. His voice carried a clear tone of mockery. “If you hadn’t gone abroad back then, you’d be the one walking the red carpet and getting admired. And today, it would be our child calling me ‘Daddy’. “Harper, do you regret it?” In the shadows, I couldn’t make out Harper’s expression, but her broken sobs were crystal clear. “Mason, I beg you, let me go, please.” Yet, as she pleaded, her bare arms clung to him even tighter. I watched them, more and more consumed by their passion, a cold smile spreading across my face. But inside, a great sorrow surged in my chest. Without noticing, the hand covering Anna’s ears relaxed unconsciously. At this moment, with a loud bang, the fireworks scheduled initially for 9:09 PM shot up into the sky. As our initials spread across the night, Anna, in my arms, was startled by the explosion and immediately began crying loudly. Not far away, the two entangled figures froze, their movements suddenly coming to a halt.

My heart skipped a beat, and in my panic, I held Anna tighter, afraid of being discovered. But soon, I realized my worry was completely unnecessary. The dazzling fireworks only deepened the intimacy between Mason and Harper. He was fully immersed in their passion, completely oblivious to the cries of his daughter, whom he usually cherished like a treasure. Given that, I saw no reason to continue playing along with him. I tightened my hold on the still-sobbing Anna, swallowing the bitterness that welled up inside me. With a resolute turn, I quickly sent a message to my manager: [Stop the film. I’m quitting the industry.] ***** Back at the hotel, Anna was already drowsy, her eyes half-closed. After settling her down, I began packing up our things. Less than half an hour later, the door was hurriedly pushed open. Mason, his clothes disheveled, stormed in. “Charlotte…” He looked at me, his eyes showing unmasked panic. “Why did you suddenly stop filming? Are you feeling sick?” I didn’t look up, my voice calm and distant. “I’m just tired.” His face stiffened for a moment, and then he quickly apologized, his tone sincere. “Sorry, darling. I went off to prepare a surprise for you and lost track of time.” As he spoke, he pulled out his phone and showed me an electronic contract. “These past two years, you’ve had to delay so much work for Anna. I’ve arranged 10% of the company’s shares for you, along with some foreign estates and islands as gifts. “Charlotte, you’ve worked so hard this year!” The assets worth a few hundred million dollars were transferred to my name just like that. If I hadn’t caught them entangled just now, I might have actually believed he still had some feelings for me. After speaking, Mason leaned in, reaching for Anna to hold her. I looked at his hand, still wearing the wedding ring, and felt a wave of nausea. Just a few minutes ago, that hand had been gripping Harper’s wrist, and they had been entangled in passion in the wilderness. And now, he had put on his good father mask, reaching to hold my pure, innocent daughter. As I was about to stop him, Anna, in the crib, seemed to sense something and suddenly burst into loud, heart-wrenching cries as if she despised Mason’s touch. A look of panic flashed across his face, and he seemed momentarily at a loss. I calmly picked up Anna, saying, “She is sleeping. Please don’t disturb her.” As he repeatedly encountered setbacks, Mason’s expression became increasingly awkward. He didn’t know what to say. After glancing at us a few times, he simply muttered a soft okay. For the next two days, Mason seemed to be busy with something, coming and going at all hours, but I didn’t care. He only told me that the manager was handling the issue regarding the filming pause and asked me to stay in Uchya for a while. I didn’t refuse, as there were still some formalities I hadn’t completed for leaving him. It wasn’t until the twentieth day that I finally received a message from my agent saying everything had been taken care of. But to my surprise, that very evening, Harper knocked on my door. I opened the door and saw her, her face covered in tears. The moment she saw me, she suddenly knelt at the doorstep with a thud. “Ms. Gomez, please help me…” She shoved a medical report into my hands, her voice cracking in despair. “I’m pregnant, and the child is Mason’s. “Ms. Gomez, Mason and I grew up together. He promised me that he would love only me in this lifetime. From the very beginning, his marriage to you, having children with you, was all to provoke me, to force me to come back to him! “You are so beautiful. Why hold on to this marriage? But me… my child and I need Mason! “I beg you, I beg you to return him to me!” At that moment, the elevator bell rang from nearby. The sound of rolling luggage wheels echoed. Mason lifted his gaze, and upon seeing Harper kneeling at my feet, the smile on his face completely froze.   “Charlotte!” He hurried to my side, not sparing even a glance for Harper. His voice, filled with panic I had never heard before, broke through the air. “What nonsense did she say to you?” I smiled, but there was no smile in my eyes. “She said… she’s pregnant with your child.” “That’s nonsense!” Before I could even finish, he sharply interrupted, his rebuttal instant and forceful. When he looked down at Harper, there was a genuine, unmistakable anger in his gaze. “Get out, now!” Harper trembled at his shout, her eyes flashing with a mix of unwillingness and defiance. But in the end, she still stood up and left. I watched her retreating figure, feeling nothing but ridicule. Mason spoke of loving me, yet his actions showed an apparent tenderness toward Harper. Even when she audaciously caused a scene in front of me, he still shielded her, not even sparing me a chance to scold her. I snapped back to reality. Mason tightened his grip on my hand, urgency, and desperation in his voice as he tried to explain, “Charlotte, you know how much I love you. I’ve given so much to you. How could I possibly cheat with some random, low-tier woman who just popped up out of nowhere? “Trust me, I can’t lose you!” He held my hand, his promise firm and resolute. I was truly exhausted. It seemed easier to go along with him than to expose everything. So, I forced a smile and played the role of the understanding, supportive wife. “You’re my husband. Of course, I believe you.” But this time, when he heard those words, he didn’t breathe a sigh of relief like before. I saw the panic and confusion in his eyes gradually intensify. I wondered, “What is he afraid of? Losing me and Anna?” I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh in my heart, saying nothing more. After we returned home, Mason started spending more and more time away. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, I was quietly preparing to leave. But on the day our visa was finally approved, Anna suddenly developed a high fever and couldn’t stop crying. On that stormy night, the villa halfway up the mountain was impossible to reach by car, and the driver couldn’t get through either. I was at my wit’s end and had no choice but to call Mason. What I got in return was his soft refusal. “Charlotte, there’s an urgent matter at the company. I just landed. “Anna is older now. Just give her some fever medicine, and she’ll be fine.” I held Anna tightly in my arms, her voice hoarse from crying. For a moment, I was so angry I couldn’t even speak. But Mason didn’t seem to notice at all. After casually responding with a few words, he hung up the phone. In helplessness, I had no choice but to leave the burning-hot child all alone in the backseat. Amidst her cries, I drove to the hospital on my own. On that rainy night, with car accidents on the rise, the emergency room was chaotic, filled with the sound of voices. I was holding Anna, struggling to manage a stack of medical records in my hands. As I was calming her down while she got an IV, my eyes met Mason’s, who was pushing a hospital bed out of the ward. In that brief moment, I saw Harper lying on the bed, her face pale, completely ignoring Mason, who was standing there in a daze. He grabbed my arm first. “Charlotte, it’s not what you think!” he said, opening his mouth to explain. But his hand, which had been hanging at his side, was suddenly grabbed by Harper. Amidst the noise, I only heard her weak voice. “Mason, my stomach hurts so much. Please stay with me…” Upon hearing that, he could only force out a wry smile and softly plead, “Charlotte, this is a misunderstanding. Wait for me to come home and explain. “Please, wait for me!” I ignored him completely. After all, I had no interest in waiting for his explanation anymore. I couldn’t be bothered to watch him wrack his brain for more disgusting excuses in front of me. Since he was so determined to be with Harper, I might as well help this couple. After confirming Anna’s condition with the doctor once again, I immediately changed the flight from a week later to tomorrow. At half past three in the morning, the IV infusion ended. I took Anna back to the villa and placed the divorce papers and wedding ring I had prepared earlier on the coffee table. Without packing a single thing, I headed straight for the airport. Everything here reeked of Mason’s disgusting presence. It wasn’t worth bringing it halfway across the world. The sunrise coincided perfectly with the plane’s boarding. I took a picture with my phone, along with the caption I had prepared in advance, and sent it on Twitter. [Four years of companionship, may we meet again someday.] The next second, my phone started ringing. I looked at the ID “Mason Whitmore” flashing on the screen and coldly pressed the power button to shut it off.

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“Ms. Chase, are you sure you want to erase all traces of yourself in the country? Once erased, neither your friends here nor Mr. Whitman will be able to find you,” a young man said respectfully. Yvonne Chase fell silent for a moment before nodding softly, responding with her habitual gesture, “Yeah, I’m sure. Just do it.” As her hand fell, she remembered that she had regained her hearing just that day. After suffering a high fever as a child that left her deaf, Yvonne had spent years undergoing treatment. Just yesterday, she had undergone her final surgery, and now her hearing was back, and she could speak in broken phrases. “Alright, Ms. Chase. It’ll take about a week to handle everything. Please be patient.” “Okay, I want a car ready at the back door at 1 AM, seven days from now,” she instructed. “Understood.” “Tell my grandfather I agree to the marriage with the Kingsley family. I’ll get married as soon as I get home,” Yvonne spoke slowly, her voice soft. Despite her upbeat tone, there was a heaviness in the air that made it feel far from cheerful. The young man hesitated. “Ms. Chase…” “Just do it.” “Understood.” The live stream on her phone continued to roll. Carl sat in front of the camera, dressed impeccably in a suit. “The Whitman Group’s suburban amusement park project, Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland, is officially underway.” “Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland covers an area twice the size of Cloudia City’s Disneyland. It features not only entertainment options for the general public but also includes activities designed for people with disabilities, all supported by top-tier facilities developed by leading teams.” “Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland is specifically designed for the hearing impaired. This is my engagement gift to my fiancée, Yvonne Chase.” Flashes from cameras lit up the room. Everyone watching the livestream, men and women alike, burned with jealousy. Yvonne Chase had it all. “Mr. Whitman and Ms. Chase truly embody a fairy-tale romance.” “I heard Ms. Chase is hearing impaired, and the Whitman family disapproved of the marriage, but Mr. Whitman insisted. He even gave up his inheritance to strike out on his own.” “Mr. Whitman’s love is truly inspiring.” “Absolutely! Congratulations to Mr. Whitman on his engagement!” “Thank you for your well wishes.” Carl caught the gaze of a female reporter in the front row, standing up as he did. The smile on the reporter’s face deepened a bit. Yvonne watched as the camera froze on Carl’s face, a face that had once captivated her. But she then took off the engagement ring and tossed it into a gift box. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a picture of the box and sent it to Carl. She typed: [This is a gift for you—our seventeen-year anniversary.] Carl replied instantly: [Yvonne, you’re the best! I’ll check it as soon as I get home.] [Nope, you have to wait until the anniversary day, seven days from now!!!!] Yvonne added a flurry of exclamation marks. [Okay, I’ll do as you say. I’ll wait to open it in seven days.] The seventeenth anniversary was a day they had long anticipated, the day they planned to get their marriage license. Carl had dreamed of this moment, and to convince his mother, he had camped out in front of Whitman Manor for an entire day and night, falling ill with a fever before his mother finally relented. Yvonne set her phone down and turned to look at the gifts piled on her floor-to-ceiling cabinet. There were a thousand origami cranes Carl had folded for her, a childhood teddy bear, raw gemstones he had mined himself, and millions of dollars worth of jewelry. In the center was Carl’s ID. Yvonne was the kind of person who took her time to warm up to things; she didn’t really believe in slow-burning love stories. Her parents had once been an enviable couple, marrying out of love. But things took a dark turn when her father plotted against her mother for the sake of his mistress. In a fit of rage, her mother struck back, leading to a tragic end. Ultimately, her mother died in prison, and on her deathbed, she told Yvonne, “Sweetheart, the most untrustworthy beings in this world are men.” After her parents’ deaths, Yvonne was sent to live with her father’s friend, Oliver Whitman, during a time when her grandfather’s power was shaky. It was there that she met Carl, Oliver’s only son. For a long time, Yvonne believed she would never trust in love. The trauma of her parents’ relationship, combined with her disabilities, made her reluctant to engage with the outside world. But Carl offered her so much, showering her with love and attention. After a particularly tough period in her childhood, where she struggled with her health and could barely keep food down, Carl dedicated himself to helping her regain her strength. He sought out an elderly doctor and learned the art of medicinal cuisine, mastering 108 recipes over the course of a year. His hands were calloused from the effort, but he became a master in the kitchen, preparing a different dish for Yvonne each day. In response to Yvonne’s wish to have her name written in the highest place near heaven, Carl, who had a fear of heights, signed up for a global extreme challenge. It was a live-streamed event where participants had to complete twelve extreme sports to finish the challenge. Those who succeeded would have the chance to choose a piece of ancient fossil on an island closest to the sun and carve their names alongside their loved ones. Carl persevered through the grueling competition, even facing his fear of heights to complete a bungee jump. As he leaped into the void, he shouted with all his might, “Yvonne, I love you!” His passionate declaration resonated with countless viewers around the world. In the end, he etched their names into the fossil, solidifying their bond in a way that felt almost eternal. Yvonne’s heart finally stirred with emotion. At twenty-one, she agreed to be with Carl, and now, at twenty-four, she remembered the day they held hands for the first time, tears streaming down Carl’s face as he said, “Holding your hand means a lifetime together.” A lifetime. That was a word Yvonne had never dared to think about. Yet her mother had been right. She mused, “Why is love in this world so fragile?” A single tear slipped down her cheek. Yvonne quickly wiped it away. Yesterday, when her hearing finally came back, she rushed to find Carl – only to discover his dirty little secret: he had taken a young intern reporter under his wing. Today, Yvonne had someone dig up all the information on the intern reporter. Felicity Simons, gorgeous and ambitious, shamelessly threw herself at Carl every chance she got. After fourteen years of companionship and three years of romance, they were about to get married. And this was what she got instead. It was all so absurd.

As dusk fell, Carl stepped through the door. Yvonne lay draped on the sofa, her demeanor languid and tired. Carl strode over to her; concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong, Yvonne? Are you feeling unwell?” Yvonne could read his lips. She shook her head, lifting her hands to sign. She didn’t want him to know she could hear now. At that moment, Carl’s phone rang abruptly. He glanced at the screen, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Just a second, I need to take this call.” He answered, turning slightly away from Yvonne. Without her focus on his lips, he thought Yvonne couldn’t decipher what he was saying. “Mr. Whitman?” a sultry voice chimed from the other end, dripping with sweetness, enough to melt anyone’s resolve. Carl tugged at his tie. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you have enough?” Yvonne felt a shiver run through her. Her fists clenched at her sides to keep the tears at bay. She fixed her gaze on the side of Carl’s face, noting the smug expression he wore as if he were imagining something delightfully improper. She saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly. “Yeah, Mr. Whitman. I’m waiting in your car downstairs, wearing that outfit you said you liked… Want to join me?” The woman’s laughter was teasing. Carl muttered under his breath, “Just wait, you vixen.” He shot up, turning to find Yvonne’s eyes, which were now glistening with suppressed emotion. He tried to soften his tone. “What’s wrong, Yvonne? Are you really not feeling well?” Yvonne lifted her hand and slowly signed. “Just a little stomachache.” “I’ll get you something for that.” Carl hurried to the medicine cabinet, taking two stomach tablets and gently placing them in her palm. “Take these first,” he urged softly, pouring her a glass of warm water. As Carl watched her take the medication, he rested his hand carefully on her stomach, his expression tender, as if he were caring for the most precious treasure. Noticing Yvonne’s demeanor easing, Carl carefully lifted her and set her down on the bed. “Get some rest. I’ll make you some soothing soup, and you can have it when you wake up.” Yvonne nodded obediently, curling up beside him like a cat—graceful and sweet. Carl adored her in this state. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, his eyes brimming with affection. Yvonne closed her eyes as Carl quietly slipped away. He headed to the kitchen to prepare the ingredients for the soup, then made his way to the underground parking garage. Yvonne, roused by a sense of urgency, switched on the garage’s surveillance monitor. In the footage, Carl arrived, and Yvonne saw Felicity standing there, her attire barely concealing her figure. The moment she laid eyes on Carl, she giggled flirtatiously. “Mr. Whitman! What took you so long?” Carl wasted no time rushing toward her and pushing her into the car. “Yvonne’s not feeling well, and I need to take care of her before I do anything else.” “Oh, Mr. Whitman, you… you’re so good to that… little mute.” Felicity’s words dripped with mockery as they spilled out. “She’s my wife. If I don’t take care of her, should I take care of you, you little tramp?” Carl snapped, his movement harsh, betraying no concern for Felicity’s feelings. He loved Yvonne, but he also craved the wild abandon that came from his sex with women like Felicity. Yvonne was exquisite, and he wanted to keep her purity for their wedding night; to him, Felicity was nothing more than an outlet for his desires. The car shook violently, the motion intense and prolonged. The surveillance feed was silent, leaving Yvonne unaware of Carl’s words. But she clearly saw the man who had promised her the world, passionately lost with another woman in the garage. What did his promises mean now? What did her own feelings mean in the face of this betrayal? Yvonne suddenly burst into laughter, a sound tinged with bitter tears. She cried for her unreciprocated love, for the heart she had laid bare before him. She wept over the hard-won peace she had finally found after her parents’ tragic deaths. She cried for her broken heart. Yvonne gasped for breath, her body curled on the floor. Just before slipping into darkness, a primal instinct drove her to dial Carl’s number. The phone rang, and it didn’t take long for someone to pick up. In the haze of unconsciousness, she heard the mingling of a man’s and a woman’s heavy groan. Carl asked, “What are you doing answering my call?” Felicity’s voice chimed through the line, playful and teasing. “Oh, Mr. Whitman, why be afraid? She can’t hear us. Isn’t this a little exciting?” Carl’s low groans blended with the sound of bodies colliding, and the reality of betrayal crashed over Yvonne like a wave.

When Yvonne finally regained consciousness, the first thing she saw was Carl’s anxious gaze. “Yvonne, I’m so sorry. We need to get you to the hospital,” he said, reaching out to scoop her up in his arms. Yvonne gently pushed him away, shaking her head. “You fainted! We’re going to the hospital, okay?” Carl insisted, his voice laced with urgency. Yvonne mused, “Yeah, I’ve fainted while you were busy enjoying yourself with Felicity in the car.” “What a buzzkill I am?” With great effort, Yvonne struggled to sit up, continuing to shake her head. Carl reached out again, but she dodged his grasp. “Yvonne, what’s going on?” Carl asked, panic rising in his chest as if he were about to lose something incredibly precious. A dull ache throbbed in Yvonne’s heart. She slowly signed, “I’m fine; I just didn’t eat lunch.” “Why didn’t you have lunch? The soup will be ready soon. Just have a little something while I finish the meal,” Carl said patiently, heading toward the kitchen. He still cared for her, still worried about her well-being. But the clear hickeys on his neck and the smudged lipstick on his disheveled shirt were a cruel reminder. It was as if they were mocking her, “Yvonne, look at what you thought love would be. This is the man you love.” Yvonne took out her tablet. She was a comic artist, and when she was with Carl, she used the pen name Joyvonne to create a serialized comic. The comic captured their daily lives, filled with tender and romantic details, showcasing her artistic talent and winning the hearts of many fans. She typed out an announcement: [The final chapter drops 1 AM next week. After that, the series ends for good.] The news sent shockwaves through the comic community. [Is Joyvonne retiring to get married?] [Of course! Even I, a skeptic of love, have started to believe.] [Though I’m sad, I wish Joyvonne all the best.] [Can’t we get a post-wedding series?] [Please, we want a post-wedding story!] [Pretty please!] Reading through the comments, Yvonne felt a wry smile creep onto her face. The fairytale romance she had envisioned was far from reality. In the end, lies only brought decay and pain. “Yvonne, why are you stopping the comic?” Carl asked, returning with the meal just as he noticed the announcement. When she started the series, Yvonne had told Carl it was a reflection of their love. The moment their love faded, so would her art. “Just want to change the theme,” she signed, looking up at Carl as she gestured. Carl’s heart slowly settled. He thought, “What was I just thinking? How could Yvonne ever find out about my affair? She hardly leaves the villa; when she does, it’s always with friends I’ve arranged for her. She doesn’t see the world beyond me.” “True, we’re engaged now. It’s time to think about a post-wedding series,” Carl said, wrapping his arms around Yvonne’s soft body. He swallowed hard, longing for her body. But they both felt it was right to save their complete surrender for their perfect wedding night. Carl had been holding back for a long time, so when Felicity made her bold move, he couldn’t resist and fell for her. He reasoned with himself that he was just a normal wealthy man; sleeping with a few women wasn’t a big deal. After they were married, he would only be with Yvonne, cleaning up any messes outside. This time before the wedding was just a bit of indulgence. Thinking of Felicity’s alluring figure made his palms sweat. “Yvonne, I want to…”

Yvonne gazed at Carl with clear, innocent eyes. Carl swallowed hard; the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. “Maybe you should eat something first,” he finally said. Yvonne nodded and followed him to the dining room. She took small bites of her meal while Carl’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen, irritation flickering across his face before he abruptly hung up. The phone rang again. “Laird and Aiden want me to join them for drinks,” Carl said with a half-hearted smile, but he answered the call. Carl looked at Yvonne, his smile softening as he said into the phone, “No, I’m not going. Yvonne isn’t feeling well, and I’m staying home with her.” “Carl, come on! Felicity’s here, too.” Carl’s expression darkened. “I said no! If you call me again tonight, we’re done.” He hung up, frustration evident on his face. Yvonne watched him, her eyes clear and innocent. Feeling a bit guilty, Carl rubbed his nose. “I’m not going anywhere. You finish eating, and I’ll stay here and watch you sleep.” Yvonne nodded, finishing her meal. Though they lived together in the same villa, they hadn’t crossed that line yet. It was Yvonne’s choice, her way of maintaining a sense of security. At that moment, Yvonne felt a wave of relief wash over her. Thank goodness she hadn’t given everything to Carl; otherwise, she would be in a much worse position right now. Yvonne closed her eyes, her breathing steady. Thinking she had fallen asleep, Carl quietly rose, tucked her in, and turned to leave. Soon, the sound of the car engine echoed in the driveway. She knew he was off to find Felicity again. Yvonne got up, changed into a pair of understated workout clothes, and headed downstairs to follow him. She was aware she was seeking out pain, but she needed to see for herself. What were those people around him really like behind closed doors? Inside the opulent private room, the atmosphere was electric. Men and women were reveling, laughter and shouts filling the air. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a chaotic scene of indulgence. As Carl entered, he spotted Felicity, who had just taken a sip of red wine. Her shoulders were revealed, and Carl’s marks were still visible on her delicate skin, glowing enticingly under the lights. Felicity sauntered over and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Carl pushed her away slightly, but her lips landed on his neck, leaving a sultry red mark on both of them. “Ooh!” The crowd erupted, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. “Carl, you’re a stud! You didn’t even kiss her, and Felicity’s already weak in the knees!” “Who can blame her?” “Carl, Carl, you’re the man!” Carl’s hand roamed around Felicity’s waist as he pulled her into the center of the sofa. “Felicity, no kissing on the lips. I’m serious; I only kiss Yvonne. You’re not worthy,” he said firmly. Felicity’s face flickered with embarrassment, but she quickly regained her composure, straddling his lap with a coy smile. “Mr. Whitman, I get it. I won’t do it again. Can I have that article about the movie star?” “Sure,” Carl replied, giving her a playful pat. Felicity let out a soft sigh. “Hey, Carl, who’s hotter? Felicity or Yvonne?” someone shouted from the crowd. “Felicity can’t hold a candle to my Yvonne,” Carl snapped, his demeanor shifting instantly. He grabbed a nearby glass and smashed it over the man’s head. Felicity was knocked over in the chaos. The room fell silent. The man quickly apologized, slapping himself in the face, “Sorry, Carl! I messed up. I shouldn’t have said that.” “I warned you—if any of this nonsense gets back to Yvonne, you’ll all be in deep trouble!” Carl lost interest, pushing away Felicity, who was trying to cling to his leg. “And you, don’t even think about it. If you do, you won’t have a whole corpse left.” With that, Carl strode out of the room.

After Carl left, it was a while before anyone in the room dared to speak. “Laird, you’ve got some nerve comparing Yvonne to that kind of woman,” one of the guests muttered. Felicity felt her face flush with embarrassment. She thought, “I graduated from a prestigious university. I have a respectable job. I’m just using my looks to secure a few resources—how did that make me ‘that kind of woman’? It’s as if they see me as nothing but a prostitute.” “Right? You begged Carl for that project, and it was Yvonne who helped you get the contract,” another chimed in. “Ha! And you’re all accusing me? Carl is out chasing women behind Yvonne’s back. Have any of you ever spilled the beans?!” Laird shot back, clearly agitated from their barrage. “We’re only trying to protect Yvonne. She’s such a naive girl; what would she do if she knew about all this dirty business?” someone argued. “She’s just a beautiful mute girl. Without Carl, who knows what would happen to her?” “Look, Yvonne depends on Carl. We’re keeping things from her for her own good. Better she stays in her fairy tale than face this nightmare,” another voice added. “Exactly! She’s living happily in her castle, provided by Carl. It’s better that way.” “Come on, Carl can play around. When he’s done, he can just toss those women away.” Feeling unsettled, Felicity stood up, adjusting her clothes as she swiftly made her way out of the room to catch up with Carl. She mused, “I can give him the thrill Yvonne doesn’t. I know he’s not done with me yet. Those people inside? Just a bunch of hypocrites!” “They act like they care for Yvonne, but they’re the ones stabbing her in the back!” A fierce glint sparkled in Felicity’s eyes. “I will make sure Carl can’t live without me. I’m up for anything he desires, no limits.” “I’m way more fun than that little mute.” “I’ll push Yvonne out of the picture; I’ll become Mrs. Whitman in all her glory, and those snobs will rue the day they underestimated me!” “Once I’m done, I’ll make sure that little mute ends up at some club. With her face and history with Carl, she’ll have a prime market!” Felicity spotted Carl up ahead and quickened her pace to catch him. Meanwhile, the room began to empty out quickly. Once everyone left, Yvonne emerged from the adjacent room. She heard every last word. She thought, “How ironic. To them, Carl’s love is rare when he’s the kind of man who plays around but still comes home. They all lied to me, but it’s for my own good?” “Ugh, that’s revolting.” Yvonne drove aimlessly, eventually stopping at a mountaintop campsite. She sat in her car, staring into the inky darkness of the night sky as hints of dawn began to creep in. Gradually, the horizon unfolded, revealing a sliver of light that expanded until the whole sky radiated with brightness. It felt symbolic, like her own life. After enduring the darkness of night, the dawn would inevitably arrive. In six days, she would be free. Setting a countdown alarm on her phone, Yvonne leaned back in her seat and drifted off to sleep. Despite the cramped space of the car, she found comfort in the moment. At two in the afternoon, her phone vibrated, rousing her from slumber. It was a message from Carl. [Yvonne? Not at home?] [Yvonne, where are you?] [I’m coming to get you.] Yvonne stared at the screen, the concern in his words feeling bitterly ironic. After leaving last night, he hadn’t come home at all—he must have been found by Felicity, and who knew what else they’d been up to? With a sharp pain in her chest, Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear cascading down her cheek. She wiped it fiercely, vowing that this would be her last tear for him. She typed a reply: [Just decided to check out the Central Mall, no need to pick me up.] She wanted to buy a couple of clothes for herself. Everything in her closet was handpicked by Carl, and she wasn’t taking any of it with her. Carl texted back: [I’ll come find you.] Knowing she could refuse him no longer, Yvonne chose not to reply. Instead, she drove toward the mall. As she stepped out of the car and took a few steps, she collided right into Felicity.

“Ouch, I’m so sorry.” Felicity smiled as she spoke, her sultry eyes gleaming with delight as they locked onto Yvonne’s. Yvonne waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to engage. Yet Felicity blocked her path, leaning in slightly, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Miss, you’re awfully quiet. Have you forgiven me already?” “I just found out I’m pregnant and was rushing to find my husband when I bumped into you. Please don’t take it the wrong way.” Yvonne regarded her with a cool expression, managing a faint smile. It was striking, a perfect blend of beauty and aloofness. In stark contrast, Felicity exuded a vulgar, jaded aura. “Yvonne, do you know whose child I’m carrying?” Felicity’s tone turned provocative. “Felicity, are you asking for trouble?” Carl’s icy voice cut through the tension. Felicity immediately shifted to a pitiful demeanor, her eyes wide and pleading. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Whitman! I accidentally bumped into Ms. Chase on my way down; I didn’t mean…” Carl shoved Felicity aside, sending her crashing to the floor, her face paling in shock. Yvonne grabbed Carl’s arm and signed, “I’m okay. She claimed she’s pregnant and asked if I knew who the father was. I don’t know her. Do you?” Carl’s face drained of color for a moment, but he quickly regained composure. “I don’t know her either. She looks like a total nutcase. Just ignore her; I’ll get a bodyguard to handle this.” He studied Yvonne closely, relieved to see her surprise was just that—surprise, nothing more. His heart settled a little. “Yvonne, Don’t let her get to you. Come on, let’s go buy you some clothes,” Carl said, wrapping an arm around her as they moved away. Felicity scrambled to her feet, desperation evident. “Mr. Whitman, I’m pregnant with your child!” Carl pressed the elevator button without breaking stride, not even glancing back. “Mr. Whitman…” Felicity called after him, her voice rising in pitch. He didn’t respond; his focus remained solely on Yvonne. Yet Yvonne could sense Carl’s restrained anger and frustration. While shopping, Carl’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. He glanced down, and a series of images filled the screen. His breath hitched, eyes burning with desire, just as Yvonne exited the fitting room. “I think I’ll try on this menswear,” Carl said, striding toward the farthest fitting room with purpose. Yvonne handed her chosen outfits to the sales associate, ready to check out. She was aware of Carl’s preference for tailored suits, and she knew what he was likely doing in there. It was impossible not to notice Felicity had entered. In the fitting room, Felicity knelt on the floor, watching as Carl’s demeanor flipped from collected to volatile, and triumph surged through her. She mused, “No matter what it takes, he’s pulled away from Yvonne.” “That’s the first step. A plain, voiceless girl like her can’t compete with me.” After a tense moment, Carl shoved Felicity against the cold wall, his expression fierce. “I’ll see you tonight, you little tramp.” Felicity’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Mr. Whitman, I’m carrying your baby…” “Not for long,” Carl said. “Mr. Whitman, don’t you want to see what it’s like to sleep with a pregnant woman? I’ve heard it can be quite…” Felicity leaned in closer, whispering suggestively in his ear. Carl’s eyes flickered with interest. “You’re not worried about your health. That’s your choice. I don’t care; I’ll make sure you get plenty of cash.” A chill crept down Felicity’s spine. It took her a moment to grasp how he felt. Carl had no intention of claiming her child—no, he simply wanted to play with her. And then she would have to terminate the pregnancy. Felicity felt uneasy at Carl’s cold yet calculated response. When Carl finally re-emerged to join Yvonne, he was back to being the gentle, refined man she loved.

As night fell, Carl quietly slipped out after making sure Yvonne was sound asleep. She slept peacefully, undisturbed until morning. When Yvonne finally woke up, she found breakfast waiting for her. But it wasn’t Carl who had cooked; he had ordered it. “Sorry for the late start. I had someone bring breakfast for you,” Carl said softly, his gaze warm as he looked at her. Yvonne nodded, appreciating the gesture. “I’ll be away on a business trip for five days. Don’t worry; it won’t delay our plans to get the marriage license. I’ll bring you back a little something,” Carl added, taking her hand gently. Yvonne pulled her hand back lightly and nodded again. She mused, “How ironic that I would be leaving this place in just five days.” “Amanda will come by to check on you while I’m gone,” Carl said. Yvonne shook her head and signed to say, “I don’t like having anyone in the house. I can take care of myself.” “Alright, you stubborn girl. But leaving you alone at home makes me a bit uneasy. Just promise me you’ll text me every day, okay?” Yvonne nodded again, though she knew she wouldn’t actually send any messages. Before heading out, Carl stocked up on fresh fruits, vegetables, and meat. When Aiden Parker arrived to pick Carl up, he chuckled. “Yvonne, look at how good Carl is to you! He’s worried you might get anxious while he’s away, so he sent me to check in.” Yvonne met Aiden’s gaze, recalling what he had said that night. Aiden had said that he kept things from her, but all for her sake. She smiled, though it felt a bit distant. Aiden didn’t think much of it; he could see how Yvonne’s eyes only lit up when she looked at Carl. “Yvonne, we’re off!” Carl called, wheeling his suitcase toward the door. Yvonne nodded, watching them leave. Aiden suddenly felt a twinge of realization—Yvonne looked at Carl the same way she looked at him. As he glanced back, Yvonne waved goodbye and turned to head back into the house. “Carl, are you sure it’s okay for Yvonne to be home alone?” Aiden asked, starting the car. “It’s just a few days for the business trip. I’ll be back before you know it,” Carl reassured him. But just as he was finishing his sentence, a delicate hand slipped up from the back seat. Carl turned slightly to see Felicity climbing up from the rear. “Mr. Whitman, can I join you on the trip? It’ll be so boring with just a bunch of guys,” Felicity chimed in, her hand sliding under Carl’s jacket. Carl scoffed, but the heat radiating from his body told Felicity everything she needed to know. “Mr. Whitman, I shouldn’t have joked with Ms. Chase that day. You explained it to her, right? She’s such a naive girl; of course, she would believe you,” Felicity said, her tone brazen, completely disregarding Aiden’s presence. She was sure Yvonne knew about her and Carl by now. Maybe by the time they returned, Yvonne would have left on her own. That kind of girl was innocent yet stubborn—she wouldn’t compromise her dignity. If Yvonne left, with her skills, she could easily find a way to rise up. “Yvonne trusts me completely. She won’t overthink it,” Carl said, a hint of pride in his voice. In his mind, Yvonne believed in him above all else. Back at the villa, Yvonne began to pack her things. On the first day, she burned all the gifts Carl had made for her and every photo they had taken together. Meanwhile, Carl had just arrived at his business destination, spending the night with Felicity at a hot springs resort. Carl was having too much fun to remember to check in with Yvonne, and he didn’t even notice that she hadn’t texted him to ask if he had arrived safely. The next day, Yvonne sold all the clothes and luxury items Carl had bought for her at a second-hand store. On the third day, she donated the money to a rural elementary school. After wrapping up with a client, Carl took Felicity for a wild ride, speeding up to the mountaintop where they let loose, basking in the glow of the sunset and the dawn. It was pure indulgence. Felicity was a whirlwind of excitement, her suitcase stuffed with all sorts of supplies that kept Carl on his toes. In the thrill of the moment, he completely forgot about Yvonne. On the third day, Yvonne went into the rose garden and uprooted every single rose, and on a whim, she chopped down the cherry tree that had just begun to bear fruit. Those were all plants Carl had lovingly tended for her. Meanwhile, Carl and Felicity had flown abroad, and he was sprawled out on a private beach, enjoying the attentive care Felicity provided. It was then that he finally thought of Yvonne. Three days had gone by without a word from her. He pushed Felicity away and reached for his phone, ready to call Yvonne. But it was nighttime back home. Carl hesitated, putting the phone down. He imagined Yvonne was upset with him for not reaching out sooner. He mused, “Yvonne has a temper, after all.” He gazed at her photo on his phone, a warm, affectionate grin spreading across his face.

On the fourth day, Yvonne signed over the rights to her and Carl’s romantic comic to a multinational film company. From now on, this story would no longer belong to her and Carl; it was just a product. In the dead of night on his end, Carl decided to video call Yvonne during her daytime. But she hung up immediately. She didn’t want to hear his voice. Carl knew Yvonne was upset. The girl he held so dear had a way of making even her anger seem adorable. He started texting her. [Yvonne, babe, I’m sorry! I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather since I got here and completely forgot to check in.] [Yvonne, please don’t be mad. I’ll book a flight right now and be back tomorrow. I promise it won’t delay our plans to get the marriage license.] [Yvonne, just wait for me. I’ve got a gift for you!] [Yvonne, I love you. Don’t ignore me.] He sent dozens of messages, but they all fell on deaf ears. Panic began to set in. He quickly instructed his assistant to book a flight back, but the earliest he could get home was at 1 AM the day after tomorrow. Carl sent Yvonne his flight details. [Yvonne, I’ll be back tomorrow night.] [Yvonne, I can’t wait to register our marriage and bring you home. That’s when I’ll finally feel at ease.] Yvonne read Carl’s messages, feeling a bitter irony wash over her. His landing time coincided perfectly with her departure. Yvonne finally typed out before silencing her phone: [Don’t forget to check out the comic’s grand finale and the gift.] She tossed her phone into the box where she had once kept her engagement ring. Inside the box were photos of Carl and Felicity together—intimate moments captured in the car, in the great outdoors, at Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland before it opened, and during this very trip, and more. Felicity sent her sex photos every day. There were all sorts of poses with Carl. Each image spoke volumes without a single word. They starkly obliterated every fond memory and ounce of love Yvonne had once felt. With a steady hand, Yvonne picked up a pen and wrote: [We are breaking up.] Meanwhile, Carl was on the plane, feeling his heart race as if something precious was slipping away from him—something he desperately tried to grasp but couldn’t. Felicity had initially thought about doing something thrilling at a high altitude, but for the first time, Carl firmly turned her down. A sense of panic washed over Felicity as her right eye twitched. “Mr. Whitman, I think I’d like to stay with a friend for a while. Once my belly gets bigger, I’ll come back to you,” Felicity said with a playful smile. “Do whatever you want,” Carl replied, tossing her a credit card. Felicity accepted it with a grin. She thought to herself, “Money is all that matters. With enough cash, I can disappear whenever I want. If there’s trouble, they won’t find me. If nothing happens, I can come back with Carl’s child and maybe even secure my position.” On the fifth day, Yvonne hired a professional moving company and cleaning crew. Every personal item she owned was packed up and taken away, leaving no trace of her in the house. As night fell, Yvonne double-checked the timeline for the comic launch, confirming everything was in order. She also arranged for two boxes of cash to be delivered. After three years with Carl, the gifts he had given her were all converted into this amount of money. Yvonne wanted to cut ties with Carl completely; she didn’t want a single cent from him. Just like his cheap love, she didn’t want any part of it. At 1 AM, as the comic’s grand finale was released, Yvonne slipped into a car through the back entrance, the vehicle gliding smoothly into the night. She mused, “Carl, I don’t want to see you anymore.”

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In the year Percival Hopkins was at his lowest, I broke up with him. Later, when he became successful and famous, my father tied me down and sent me straight to his bed. He gave up his wealthy fiancée to reunite with me. Our friends all said he was my savior. But only I knew the truth, that this was just Percival’s delayed revenge. He confined me to a secluded villa on a mountaintop, controlling me with an iron fist. Meanwhile, he openly attended various parties with his former fiancée, Evelyn Leach, and the world only knew of her, never of me. On my birthday, I called Percival. “It’s raining again tonight, Percival. Are you coming back?” Meanwhile, he was busy cutting cake for Evelyn, and his impatient voice came through the phone. “Can you stop going on about the rain? Just deal with it yourself. What, you think you’re going to die from it?” Later, I really did die. He couldn’t help but ask me over and over again in his dreams. “Yolanda Beasley, do you really not want me anymore?” On Christmas Eve, when everyone else was gathering with their loved ones, I wandered the streets like a lost soul. It had been so long since I’d been out, and everything felt new to me. Honestly, this opportunity came only after I begged Percival for a long time. After we got married, it was as if he feared I would run away. He set up curfews for me. Whenever I came home late, he would mock me. “Out running around again? Don’t tell me you’ve found some old client to entertain?” I can still remember the cold gleam in his eyes at that moment. Eventually, he must have tired of being angry, so he just locked me inside the house. If I really needed to go somewhere, I had to ask for permission. I thought, “Looking back, I once ruled the world, but now I’ve ended up like this. It’s pretty pathetic.” The cold winter wind pierced through my collar, making my bones ache with the chill. I hunched my shoulders and wandered along under the eaves, not noticing a white dog almost tripping me. I stepped back, studying it closely. It was a Samoyed, thin and frail, lying stiffly in a filthy pile of garbage. It was clear it had been neglected, likely starving and unloved for some time. Its once-white fur was now yellowed, covered in childish scribbles. Anyone who saw their beloved pet in such a state would surely feel heartbroken. If it were my dog, Carl… I sighed and was about to step over it when a clear, jingling sound caught my ear. The bell around the dog’s neck had fallen off and lightly clinked against its metal ID tag. That ID tag… I took a few steps forward, crouched down, and flipped the tag over. In bold letters, it read: [Carl.] Behind me, the street was busy with people and lights, but in the dark alley, only the cold wind howled through, echoing its mournful cry. I thought, “This damn world really doesn’t leave me any room for sentiment…” I stood there in silence for a long while before finally letting out a deep sigh and a stiff smile. I wrapped my arms around Carl and joked. “Carl, where have you been playing? Covered in dirt… Don’t worry. I’ll get you all cleaned up.” Carl was an adult Samoyed, and back in the day, I could barely catch him when he jumped on me. Now, I could easily lift him up. I struggled to pull out my phone and looked at the balance page, relieved to see I still had a few thousand dollars left. I carried Carl all the way to the nearest pet shop and begged the owner to give him a bath. The kind shopkeeper even recommended a reliable pet funeral service. I held Carl’s ashes and went to a cemetery on the outskirts of town. I found the familiar grave without much trouble and placed Carl’s urn inside. The small urn didn’t take up much space. It was just enough to hold a piece of me. “Carl, sleep now, don’t be afraid, baby. “You’ll be right next to me. It won’t be long before I join you. Sorry, I was useless.” I struggled to lift the heavy concrete slab and place it back into position. Brushing the dust off my clothes, I waved at the tombs on my way out of the cemetery. It was getting late now, and I held my dead phone tightly, hunching my shoulders as I stepped into the house. Before I could even set my shoes down, I heard Percival’s angry voice echoing from the distance. “You’re finally back, huh?” A storm was clearly brewing.

I hesitated, dragging my feet as I made my way to the living room. I had planned to soften things up with a few kind words to calm Percival down. But when I looked up, I saw him sitting on the couch with Evelyn in his arms. Evelyn was always a thorn in my side back in school. Whatever I liked, she liked. The pretty pens I had, the new dress my parents bought me, and even the guy I had a crush on, she had to chase after those things, too. In college, when I was trying to win Percival’s heart, she was always finding ways to get close to him. Even after Percival and I got together, she still found reasons to show up, always in my way, making my blood boil. By the time I returned home after my time abroad, she had already become Percival’s fiancée. She was just one step away from becoming his wife. But in the end, through a twist of fate, it was me who married him. She hated me very much. And I didn’t feel like about her, either. The smile I had almost formed on my face vanished, and in an instant, I was back to wearing my usual blank expression. “Percival, why did you bring her here?” Before Percival could speak, Evelyn said. “Percival wants a divorce, so he brought me here to see what it’s like to be the lady of the house!” Her hand slid over Percival’s shoulder, and the sleeve of her shirt shifted, revealing a jade bracelet. That was a family heirloom from the Hopkins family, which Percival’s mother had once shown to me when she was still alive. I fixed my gaze on Percival, my eyes sharp. “Is it true?” Percival said nothing, his expression a mix of curiosity as he watched me closely. Evelyn leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek. He didn’t pull away. I knew exactly what he was doing. This was his way of getting back at me for leaving and going abroad. Even though this little drama had played out repeatedly over the past year and more since we got married, it still stabbed at my heart. Evelyn nestled into Percival’s arms, her eyes glittering mischievously. Suddenly, they brightened. She jumped up and rushed over, grabbing a small pet collar. “Isn’t this Carl’s collar? It’s been missing for so long! “When it disappeared, Percival and I were both so worried. Who would’ve thought you would find it now!” Percival noticed the collar, sitting up slowly. A flash of guilt crossed his face. “Why didn’t you bring it back, and then?” “How could I? Carl’s been rotting in the trash.” Percival pressed his lips tightly together as if holding back something, the guilt in his eyes deepening. Then, Evelyn’s expression shifted. She leaned closer to me, her voice calm but venomous. “It’s good that it can’t come back. After you left, I thought I could get close to it, but it really was just like you, always glaring at me. So, I intentionally let it go and had people chase it far away. Well, it’ll never come back. “Yolanda, see? This is its fate.” I forced myself to calm down, struggling to keep the breakdown inside from breaking through. Evelyn was about to say more, but I slapped her hard, sending her sprawling to the floor. I shook with anger, grabbing her collar. “Carl’s a lucky one! Don’t curse it!” Before I could say another word, tears started to fall. I wanted to keep going, but then I felt a sharp pain in my hand. Percival had grabbed my wrist, forcing me to release my grip on Evelyn’s collar. He stood above me, looking down coldly. The guilt on his face had long been replaced by indifference. “How dare you hit her? You stole her fiancé. You’ll never be able to make it up to her. “Yolanda, remember your place. You’re just a toy I bought.”

As Percival said, I stole her fiancé. Three years after breaking up with Percival and going abroad, I couldn’t resist sneaking back into the country. To my surprise, as soon as I walked out of the airport, my father, drowning in debt, caught me. He said he would sell me to the big boss of Gerelden, claiming it would not only pay off his debts but also give his gambling-addicted son some money to squander. I refused with all my might, but he slapped me hard enough that stars appeared before my eyes and tied me up tightly before sending me to a room. Before leaving, he reminded me not to end up like my ungrateful mother, who had been of no use and died in vain. The woman he so contemptuously spoke of had given him her entire life. In her final stages of cancer, she was forced to deal with his creditors, suffering humiliation before she died. That rainy night, her resolute figure, and the pool of blood on the floor were memories I could never forget. I struggled with everything I had, but all I could do was watch him disappear behind the door. I never would have imagined that in my darkest moment, the person who opened the door for me was Percival. He bought me from my father and became my employer… The sound of the door closing snapped me out of my chaotic thoughts. I glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was already past midnight. Percival, who had been so nervous while holding Evelyn earlier, was now standing in front of me, drunk. He reached out to pull me up from the floor, holding me tightly. His head rested in the crook of my neck as he pouted to me like he did five years ago. “Honey, why do you always want to leave me? Am I not good enough? “I’ve got money now. I can buy you back.” The hand I had placed on his back froze slightly. I bitterly smiled. When Percival was drunk, everything he said felt like an insult to me. We held each other like lovers who were inseparable. I almost leaned in to kiss him, but then I met his gradually clearing eyes. I watched as the deep affection in his eyes was replaced with disgust. He shoved me away suddenly, and the familiar mockery followed. “Yolanda, how much do you love me? Even after I’ve grown to hate you, you still want to kiss me? “Are you planning to sell yourself again?” I didn’t know if it was because I’d gotten used to it, but the pain no longer struck me sharply. I awkwardly smiled and replied calmly, as if I were talking about something trivial. “Why do you think I’m short on money? You know me so well.” I clung to his legs and stood up, grinning in a way that begged for his favor. “Not much, just a million dollars will do!” Maybe it was my expression, or maybe it was my words, but I seemed to have triggered Percival even more. He looked at me with fury, his teeth clenched. “Are you really doing this for money? Did the Hopkins family starve you or what? “Look at you now. You’re all disheveled, and your face is as pale as a ghost!” He paused, his eyes flashing with a brief look of concern, but in the end, he didn’t say a word of it. “Look at you now. You’re worth far less than a million dollars. I’m not even asking for your room fee!” With that, he slammed the door and stormed off. I stared at my reflection in the glass, feeling like all my life had been drained from me. I barely resembled the vibrant person I once was. I wasn’t pretty, and I was close to death. The medical report in my pocket crinkled under my grip, and the doctor’s words still echoed in my mind. “Ms. Beasley, your condition is more severe than the last check-up. I’m sure you can feel it, and things will only get worse. I still recommend you try the new medicine if possible. It’s expensive, one million dollars per three doses, but at least it will ease your pain.” I looked down and let out a soft, mocking laugh, suddenly feeling a strange curiosity. I wondered, “Percival, what kind of expression would you have if you knew what this money was for?”

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“Dean, I accept the assignment. I’ll go to Sheania in two weeks.” Ophelia Hegseth stood by the office window, holding a pregnancy test report. The Dean’s voice came through the phone. “What changed your mind? I’ve been trying to convince you for years.” Ophelia smiled, “Just thought a change might be good. I need to get back to work now, bye.” Fighting back tears, Ophelia looked down at the pregnancy test report again. She had been an outstanding OB-GYN with multiple awards and a promising future. But instead of climbing the ladder, she chose to be a regular doctor just so she could spend more time with Jayden Romano. Three years ago, the Dean had offered her a career-advancing opportunity abroad, but Ophelia turned it down, unwilling to maintain a long-distance relationship with Jayden. Then, just thirty minutes ago, Jayden’s secretary came in for a pregnancy check-up. But it wasn’t really about the check-up. The secretary was marking her territory. Jayden had always doted on Ophelia, loving her to his core. He would’ve given her the moon if she’d asked for it. Their relationship was legendary in business circles. Everyone knew how Ophelia had supported Jayden when he was building his empire from scratch, staying by his side through thick and thin. People often said that when men got wealthy, they couldn’t resist temptation and ended up leaving their wives. But with Jayden, that wasn’t quite the story. Ophelia had believed she and Jayden would spend their lives together, deeply in love. Growing up without parents, she’d always been self-reliant until meeting Jayden. His love and protection had made her give him her whole heart. But things had started to change recently. For the past month, Jayden had been “busy”, and their time together kept shrinking. At first, Ophelia thought he was wrapped up in a new project. Her heart ached for him, and no matter how exhausted she was, she’d come home every day to cook dinner and wait up for him. But today, she learned the truth. Jayden hadn’t been busy with work this past month—he’d been busy with another woman. Ariel Meyer told Ophelia that she and Jayden had been together for a year, starting when she first joined the company as an intern fresh out of college. Suddenly, it all made sense—how she’d gotten fast-tracked from intern to executive assistant before her probation period was even up. When Jayden had claimed Ariel was hired for her “exceptional skills”, he clearly wasn’t talking about her office abilities. It was about how good she was in bed. Ophelia carefully folded the prenatal test results and slipped them into her pocket. Seven years with Jayden, and she’d been hoping to bring up marriage this year. Well, looked like that conversation wouldn’t be necessary now. As she stepped out of the hospital after her shift, she spotted Jayden waiting for her. The black Bentley was hard to miss, as always. “Look who’s here – your devoted CEO boyfriend again!” Her coworker gushed. “God, I’m so jealous. Seven years together, and he still picks you up from work. You two are crazy for each other!” “But aren’t you heading to Sheania for that three-year assignment in two weeks?” her colleague added. “How’s he going to handle that long-distance thing?” “As long as I can handle it, that’s all that matters,” Ophelia replied curtly, already walking toward the Bentley. It was no mystery why women fell for Jayden. Over six feet tall, movie-star handsome, and now a powerful CEO—who wouldn’t be drawn to that package? So Ophelia didn’t blame Ariel. If anyone was at fault, it was her own man who couldn’t keep it in his pants! As Ophelia approached, Jayden pulled a bouquet of blue roses from his car and held them out to her. “Rough day at work, baby?” For the past year, Jayden had brought flowers every time he picked her up. Ophelia had never been into flowers, but she’d always accepted them with a bright smile. Now it clicked. Ariel must have been the type of girl who went crazy for flowers, and Jayden had just assumed Ophelia was the same. “Only little girls need flowers like these. I don’t.” This time, Ophelia didn’t accept the bouquet. In a way, she was grateful to Ariel. Without her, Ophelia would have kept living in denial. She knew with absolute certainty that Jayden would never have ended things with her on his own. But Ophelia didn’t want a love that was tainted.

Back in the car, Jayden must have sensed something was off. He reached for her hand. “What’s wrong, babe? Rough day at the hospital with a difficult patient?” Ophelia had always worn her heart on her sleeve, often taking her patients’ struggles to heart. “Yeah,” she said softly, looking at Jayden. “Today, I had a patient come in for a pregnancy check-up. I found out later she was the other woman in an affair. “Why do people cheat? Is the grass really always greener on the other side?” At Ophelia’s question, panic flickered across Jayden’s eyes for a split second before he masked it with a casual smile. He pulled her close and said, “You’re just too empathetic, always taking everyone’s problems as your own. “But you know how people are. Sometimes, they just can’t help themselves, always chasing after something new and exciting.” Ophelia looked up at him, a strange feeling settling in her stomach. Earlier that day, she’d been devastated. Seven years of pouring her heart and soul into a relationship—anyone would be heartbroken by such betrayal. But after spending the afternoon processing everything, Ophelia had gained some clarity. So when she heard Jayden’s calculated analysis, she felt no pain, only irony. “You want to try something new?” Ophelia asked, her voice steady. Jayden’s fingers trembled slightly on her shoulder as he answered with practiced tenderness, “You’re all I need. What we have is irreplaceable. I don’t need anything new.” “Yeah, right,” she thought with a bitter smile. If Ophelia hadn’t met Ariel today, she might have believed him. Just then, his phone rang. Jayden instinctively glanced at Ophelia when he saw the caller ID, only answering after confirming she wasn’t paying attention. Jayden instinctively edged toward the car door, trying to put some distance between himself and Ophelia—probably afraid she might overhear. What he didn’t realize was that his Bluetooth earbuds were right next to her, still connected and broadcasting every word of Ariel’s side of the conversation. Ophelia dug her nails into her palms, fighting to keep her composure. After hanging up, Jayden turned to her with a guilty look. “Baby, I’m so sorry, but there’s an emergency at work. I need to head there right away. Let me get you a cab, okay?” But Ophelia had heard it all crystal clear. Ariel was having morning sickness and wanted him to come over for dinner. She’d even bought a new roleplay outfit she knew he’d love. At that moment, Ophelia felt physically sick to her stomach. Looking at Jayden, she put on a sweet voice. “Why don’t I come to the office with you? I don’t have anything planned after work anyway.” Jayden’s face immediately tensed up at her suggestion. “Baby, you’ve had such a long day already. I might be stuck there till late tonight. There’s no point in you waiting around. Just head home and get some rest, okay? I’ll try to wrap things up as quickly as I can.” He sounded so caring, so concerned about her wellbeing. If only he knew that she already knew everything. But Ophelia didn’t push it any further. What was the point? She was just tired of it all. Ophelia asked the driver to pull over and got out of the car alone. Standing on the sidewalk, she watched Jayden’s car disappear into the distance. At that moment, she felt the last warmth in her heart turn to ice. Ophelia walked aimlessly through the autumn night, memories of her life with Jayden playing like a movie in her head. Back then, when Jayden had announced he wanted to start his own business and quit his job, she’d stood by him without hesitation. She’d supported them both on her modest salary, never complaining once. She could still remember those winter mornings, biking to work in the freezing cold instead of taking a cab just so she could put better food on their table. “I promise I’ll make it big,” he’d told her. “We’ll have our dream house someday, Ophelia. Just trust me.” “I’ll cherish you forever,” he’d said. “You’re my forever and always.” A bitter smile crossed her face. He had delivered on part of his promise—the luxury mansion, the successful business. But “forever” hadn’t lasted nearly as long as she’d thought it would.

Back home, Ophelia took a hot shower to shake off the winter chill and then began packing for her departure. She filled her suitcases with clothes and essentials, arranging for an international courier service to pick them up. The housekeeper noticed her bustling around and asked curiously, “Mrs. Romano, are you going on a business trip?” “No,” Ophelia replied. She had no intention of telling anyone, especially not Jayden’s staff. Instead, she made up an excuse. “Just clearing out my old clothes for donation.” “Mrs. Romano, you’re so thoughtful. I have prepared something to eat for you. Mr. Wilson just called to make sure we’d take good care of you.” “Just called?” Ophelia scoffed inwardly. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Jayden was quite a player—wanting to have his cake and eat it too, refusing to let go of Ophelia while sweet-talking Ariel on the side. He’d even managed to call and check on her while he was busy tending to his pregnant mistress. No wonder everyone still saw Jayden as the perfect husband. All her years of devotion had been forgotten, and now Ophelia finally understood why—Jayden was one hell of an actor. Staring at the food on the table, Ophelia couldn’t bring herself to take a single bite. Her stomach churned, though she wasn’t sure if it was from thinking about Jayden’s disgusting two-faced act or realizing she’d been nursing a snake in her bosom all this time. She barely made it to the bathroom before throwing up. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she gripped the sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Something clicked in her mind, and she reached for the pregnancy test she kept in the bathroom cabinet. A chill ran down Ophelia’s spine as she waited for the results. Her period was late by a few days this month, but she hadn’t thought much of it until the morning sickness hit. She’d written off the irregularity as stress from her hectic schedule. Ten minutes felt like an eternity. When the two lines appeared, Ophelia’s hands trembled. There wasn’t a shred of joy in her heart. Instead, it felt like a boulder was crushing her chest, making it hard to breathe. Just yesterday, news of this pregnancy would have sent her running to Jayden, excitedly planning their wedding. But knowing Jayden was at Ariel’s place right now, she couldn’t find any joy in the moment. Coming out of the bathroom, Ophelia sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought for what felt like hours, wrestling with what to do about the baby. She’d always loved children and had spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to start a family with Jayden. But this was the last thing Ophelia had seen coming. While she was still reeling from the revelation, Jayden called. He told her he had to go on a last-minute business trip for a week, asking her to take care of herself and stay safe during her commute. Then, she heard a faint voice in the background, a travel agent confirming two tickets to Crystal Island. “Alright, take care of yourself too,” Ophelia replied with her usual warmth. Her familiar concern put Jayden completely at ease. After hanging up, Ophelia smiled. Minutes ago, she hadn’t known what to do about the baby. Now she did. Ophelia called in sick to work and then made appointments for the medical check-up and termination. She couldn’t keep this baby. Ophelia lay awake all night before heading to the hospital early the next morning. After the examination, she followed the doctor to the procedure room. Lying on the cold surgical table, she felt a chill that went bone-deep. The coldness pierced through to her core, like shards of ice stabbing at her heart. At this moment, the last thread connecting her to Jayden was about to be severed forever. From now on, they would truly be separate people living separate lives. When Ophelia woke up, she was hooked up to an IV drip. Her hand instinctively moved to her stomach. “It was over?” she thought, a bitter smile crossing her face.

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It had been three years since I married Anthony Bartlett. After a difficult labor that lasted a whole day and night, I finally gave birth to our daughter. But when Anthony took the baby from the nurse, he named her Bonnie Bartlett. I stiffened on the delivery bed. I knew that Anthony’s ex-girlfriend was named Barbara Dorsey. During my postpartum recovery, I received a video. In it, a drunk Anthony complained to his ex about my body, about how I had changed, and about the unpleasant smell of breast milk. He said that while he married me, his heart would always belong to her. I looked at my daughter’s peaceful sleeping face in her swaddling blanket, and Anthony had no idea that this time, I was done. I didn’t want him or his love anymore. ***** It was the fifteenth day after I gave birth. Anthony hadn’t come back once. It all started when I fought desperately on the delivery bed to stop Anthony from naming our daughter Bonnie. He looked at me in disappointment and said, “It is just a name. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” But I couldn’t accept it. Why should I? Why did Anthony think he could name our daughter after the woman he still longed for? Even though I nearly bled to death on that bed because of the stress, Anthony still went ahead and registered our daughter under the name Bonnie Bartlett while I was being rushed into ICU for emergency care. I was left alone at home, holding our daughter in her swaddling blanket. Barbara had once said that postpartum recovery wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be. Her friend had managed just fine looking after her own child on her own. So, Anthony thought it was fine to refuse to hire a postpartum nurse for me. “Nina, my Nina,” I whispered softly, calling my daughter by the nickname I had chosen for her. I tried to feed her, but because of everything that had happened, I had no milk left. Nina cried loudly from hunger. At that moment, I couldn’t hold back any longer and broke down, crying along with her. Anthony and I had met when we were both volunteering at an orphanage. From the moment he saw me, he started pursuing me. But no matter how kind he was, I never felt anything for him. It wasn’t until the time when I was harassed by some thugs because of work and Anthony risked his life to protect me that I slowly started to accept him. I was an orphan. Anthony made me feel what it was like to be loved and cared for. He told me he loved my kindness the most. But after we married, I realized that the reason Anthony had pursued me wasn’t because of who I was. It was because my eyes looked really like Barbara’s. How laughable. Both I and our daughter had become tools for Anthony to miss Barbara. Anthony and Barbara had been college sweethearts. But when they were about to get married, Barbara left him to pursue opportunities abroad. To my surprise, not only did Anthony not hate her, but he continued to cherish her as his true love, the perfect love he could never forget. I heard footsteps at the door, and the door opened. It was Anthony coming back. I was about to call out for help when my arms, sore from holding Nina day and night for the past two weeks, finally gave in. My body ached all over, and my eyes were red from exhaustion. I was barely holding it together. “Anthony, Nina… she…” Anthony frowned. “What Nina? I told you already her name is Bonnie Bartlett. I really don’t get it. Why are you so petty over a name?” “Look at this place, it’s a mess. And Bonnie’s crying. Don’t you know how to take care of her?” My eyes filled with tears. I wanted to argue with him. But I had barely eaten anything nutritious in days, and I was completely drained. “I don’t have milk. Could you please make some soup for me?” I weakly pleaded. Anthony’s parents had never cared about me because I was an orphan, and since I had only given birth to a daughter, they never even bothered to visit. They hadn’t come to see Nina once. I thought that by asking Anthony for help, he would remember his responsibilities as a father and stay to take care of our child.

Anthony frowned in irritation. “Didn’t you bring this on yourself? And it’s just soup. You could have made it yourself.” Without waiting for me to say anything, Anthony turned and walked out. “Anthony.” I shouted his name, but all I heard in response was the loud slam of the door. Anthony was gone. I held my daughter tightly in my arms, suddenly remembering what Anthony had said when we were deeply in love, that for the rest of our lives, he would do everything in his power to make sure I never shed a tear. I had always been afraid of loneliness. When Anthony proposed, he promised to give me a home so that I would never be alone again. But now, the sound of my daughter crying made me anxious. At that moment, I felt lost, and a bitter thought crossed my mind, “What does marriage really bring to a woman? Is this really the home I’ve always dreamed of?” I had no choice but to order takeout, asking for formula and soup. When the delivery arrived, I dragged my aching body to get it, but as I was preparing the formula for my daughter in the room, I saw a post from Barbara on Twitter. [Thanks to my knight for spending two hours making this soup just for me.] In the photo, Anthony wore an apron, looking at Barbara with a tenderness he had never shown me. I suddenly felt pathetic and foolish. The cries of Nina, hungry and helpless, and my own struggles with postpartum recovery, Anthony ignored them all. He didn’t care that I barely survived after being rushed into ICU, and he couldn’t even be bothered to make me a simple bowl of soup, yet he was willing to cook for Barbara, healthy and well. It made sense, though. From the start, I was nothing more than a stand-in for Anthony. He didn’t love me. And naturally, he didn’t love our daughter either. I finished making the formula for my daughter and then forced myself to drink the soup, but tears still dropped into it, one after another. I still made myself drink it. I knew I couldn’t break down. Since Anthony, as Nina’s father, didn’t love her, I had to love her enough for both of us. That night, after finally managing to get Nina to sleep, I received a video from an anonymous number. I clicked on it. The video showed Anthony, drunk, holding Barbara while complaining about me. “Diane Heath is useless. She can’t manage anything. She just lets Bonnie cry, and her body’s gotten out of shape. She doesn’t even care to manage it. And don’t get me started on the horrible smell of milk stains on her when I get close. “I really regret choosing her. “If I hadn’t felt sorry for her being an orphan, I never would’ve married her. She’s ungrateful, and now she’s making such a scene.” When I heard Anthony say that, my blood seemed to freeze. He actually disliked me because I was an orphan. But when we first met, I had never hidden that I was an orphan. I thought, “Yes, I am an orphan. But I’ve never given up on myself, never wallowed in self-pity. After growing up, I became an executive in a company because of my excellent grades and work skills.” I didn’t need Anthony to survive. I was doing just fine on my own. I looked down at my stomach, which still had some extra fat. Anthony was right. My body had changed, but I had just given birth to our daughter. I hadn’t even started postpartum recovery yet. Did he expect me to lose weight by risking my life? I didn’t understand how everything had turned out this way. It was Anthony who had forced me to quit my high-paying executive job when he found out I was pregnant, promising to care for me and the child for the rest of our lives. In the video, Anthony held Barbara even tighter. He said his heart would always belong to her and that he only stayed with me out of a sense of responsibility. I nearly collapsed as I watched the video, but I covered my mouth to stifle the sobs, not wanting to wake Nina. [Diane, I suggest you let me know when to quit. If it weren’t for the fact that you look like me, Anthony would never have even looked at you.] I knew it was Barbara’s provocation.

The next day, Anthony finally returned, but he brought Barbara with him. As soon as Barbara stepped through the door, she shot me a disdainful look. However, in front of Anthony, she continued to pretend to be friendly toward me. “Bonnie, come let me hug you.” She called Nina’s name, but her gaze was full of longing as she looked at Anthony. I held Nina tightly, giving her a cold stare. Barbara pretended to get teary-eyed as if she were hurt. “Anthony, I think Diane doesn’t like me. If you want, I can just leave right now.” Anthony, naturally, couldn’t stand seeing Barbara upset. He glared at me in disapproval. “Diane, how can you be so unreasonable? Don’t you know that Barbara brought a ton of gifts just to see you today? “You don’t even know how to say thank you, and now you’re making a scene.” I looked at Anthony sadly. “Why should I thank her? Should I thank her for abandoning you to go abroad? Or thank her for trying to ruin our marriage after you got married and had a child?” “Diane, you’ve got it all wrong. I’ve already cleared things up with Anthony.” At the mention of the past, Barbara ran out of the room crying. Anthony tried to follow, but I stopped him with a sharp voice. “Anthony, I just want to ask you one thing. When you decided to marry me, was it because I looked like Barbara, or did you actually love me, even just a little? “If you love me, then don’t leave. Stay here with me and Nina, okay? She’s still so small, and she needs you.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I set aside my pride and pleaded with him. I begged for just a shred of love from Anthony. “I do love you…” Anthony hesitated, his eyes clouded with doubt. He had intended to stay, but when he saw a message from Barbara hinting at something like suicide, he became anxious instantly. His gaze toward me turned full of contempt. “Diane, this is all your fault. If something happens to Barbara, I swear I won’t let you off the hook.” Without another word, Anthony turned and walked away. The house was left in silence, just me and Nina. In the middle of the night, I was half awake when I suddenly smelled a strong, choking odor of smoke. Nina started crying as well. That was when I realized something was wrong. I grabbed Nina and tried to open the door, but I found the doorknob burning hot. I remembered some fire safety tips I’d learned on social media and immediately realized the fire had already reached outside our door. After calling 911, I instinctively dialed Anthony for help. But after several calls, he still didn’t answer. Nina was crying from inhaling the smoke, and my heart ached as I held her close. “Why isn’t he answering the phone? Anthony, please pick it up. Please, save me and Nina.” The fire had damaged the electricity, and just as my phone was about to die, Anthony finally picked up. I was about to speak when he shouted angrily at me first. “Diane, what’s wrong with you? Don’t you know that Diane has a fever? I finally managed to get her to sleep, and you keep calling.” “No, Anthony, there’s a fire at home. Please come back. I’m scared, and Nina keeps crying.” My body trembled uncontrollably. But Anthony’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Diane, are you enjoying playing these games? And by the way, my daughter’s name is Bonnie. Nina? That’s not my daughter.” At this point, I didn’t care to argue with him anymore. “It’s really a big fire, Anthony. Me and the baby are trapped inside. Please come back and help us. I’m begging you, please save our daughter.” As I saw smoke seeping into the room from under the door, my voice became more desperate. But then, through the phone, I heard Barbara’s weak voice calling out to Anthony. Then Anthony hung up the phone, and I couldn’t get through to him again. I held Nina in my arms and rushed into the restroom, desperately stuffing a towel in the crack of the door, but the thick smoke still seeped in little by little. Even though I pressed a damp towel over Nina’s nose and mouth, she was just a baby. I could hear her cries growing fainter and fainter, and my heart sank further into despair. Just when I thought Nina and I would die here, the restroom door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. The firefighters had arrived just in time, saving both Nina and me. The next day, when Anthony received the news and rushed to the hospital, he saw me in the ICU. His eyes lit up with relief, and he immediately hugged me. “Diane, I’m so glad you’re alright. What about Bonnie? How is she?” Slap… Before he could finish his sentence, I slapped him hard across the face. “Diane, how could you hit me?” Anthony turned his face away in shock, his eyes filled with disbelief. But I felt utterly drained. I was so tired… I didn’t want to love Anthony anymore. The fire that trapped us in the house made me realize that Anthony’s heart had always been with Barbara. I couldn’t pull him back, and I didn’t want to. This time, I didn’t want anything from him, neither him nor his heart. “Anthony, let’s get a divorce.” I closed my eyes, unwilling to look at him anymore.

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For the past two months, I’d been trapped in a suffocating fog of despair. My wife, Lilian Chase, had just shared the miraculous news that she was pregnant. But then, in a cruel twist of fate, she lost the baby. It was my fault. If I hadn’t been so consumed with delivering takeout and running errands, Lilian would never have dashed into the street in the dead of night, desperate to find me after waking from a nightmare. She wouldn’t have had a car accident and lost the baby. It was already past midnight, nearing 12 a.m. Lilian lay curled up on the bed, and her face was still streaked with the remnants of tears from her latest bout of sobbing. I sat beside her, whispering words of comfort until exhaustion claimed her that she finally drifted into an uneasy sleep. With tears still glistening in her eyes, she clung to the memory of our lost child, unable to let go. This scene became a cruel routine over the past two months. Every time her guilt-ridden sobs echoed through the room, my own guilt gnawed at me, growing heavier with each passing day. I took on extra work, not just delivering food but running long-distance errands, all to provide a better life for her and the future children we dreamed of having. That night, I had accepted an order from six miles away. The rain poured down relentlessly, but the 150-dollar errand fee meant I could take Lilian out for a nice meal. But the roads were slick, and the darkness swallowed everything. After picking up the medicine from a pharmacy on the east side of the city, I rushed to the destination. In my haste, I slipped on the slick pavement, scraping my elbows and knees. But the sting of my scrapes was trivial. Nothing mattered more than delivering that takeout on time. Still, by the time I arrived at Room 1302 in Riverside Heights, the delivery was already overdue. I pressed the doorbell, and after a few moments, a scowling man yanked the door open. My face was hidden beneath my helmet and mask, but I recognized him instantly. His sharp, chiseled features were hard to forget. It was the same man who had hit my wife two months ago at the intersection of Cedarwood Boulevard and, to his credit, drove her to the hospital. I couldn’t dredge up his first name from memory, but I knew for certain his surname was Wilson. When I dashed to the hospital on that fateful day, there he was at the cashier’s office, settling the bill. He explained that Lilian had suddenly darted out into the road. Amidst her tears, Lilian admitted to it. Overwhelmed with guilt, I apologized over and over, and in an attempt to make amends, I paid him five thousand dollars to cover the cost of his shattered windshield. Who would’ve thought that by simply running errands, I’d cross paths with him? “What took you so long?” he snapped, snatching the soggy paper bag from my grasp. “It’s drenched! If you can’t handle this job, maybe you should just quit!” I was on the verge of apologizing, my mouth opening to say “Mr. Wilson,” when a voice from within the apartment halted me in my tracks. It was a soft, languid voice that sent a jolt of electricity through my entire body. “Cutie, why don’t you come in? I’ve been waiting forever!” “I’m coming,” he responded, and his smile was tinged with a hint of lust. Throwing me a dismissive glance, he then turned back inside, slamming the door shut. “The moron won’t be home until two. We don’t have much time.” The voice from within grew faint, but it was etched into my memory. No matter how many years might slip by, I would recognize it anywhere. That was unmistakably Lilian’s voice.

The tiny bear keychain, sprawled out on the floor of the entrance hall, was a creation of my own hands, crafted with love for her. The woman who should have been nestled in our bed, sleeping peacefully, was with another man. I didn’t remember much about how I left Riverside Heights that night. I only recalled the tumble down the staircase, where agony dulled into numbness, and yet, in a haze of disorientation, I somehow pulled myself upright once more. I had to go home. Lilian was waiting for me there. Down below in my neighborhood, one solitary streetlight had been broken and dim. I stood in its shadow, hidden from view, as I watched Lilian step out of a taxi. She looked over her shoulder, nervously glancing around before heading upstairs. I surmised she must have tidied herself up by now, perhaps even settled into bed. With that thought, I stubbed out my eighth cigarette, plastered a hollow smile across my face, and stepped into the elevator. As soon as I opened the door to our apartment, I could hear the familiar shuffle of her slippers. Lilian appeared in her teddy bear nightgown with light yellow fluffy slippers on her feet. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, giving me the impression she had just been roused from sleep by my arrival. “Are you back?” she asked casually, taking my dripping raincoat and hanging it outside the door without a second thought. I shuddered. “It’s quite cold in here. Didn’t you turn on the heating?” Lilian paused, a flicker of shock crossing her face, before she hurried to turn up the radiator. “Maybe it’s broken. It’s not warming up,” she said. “Broken?” I thought. “It’s only been six months since I bought it. How could it be broken?” But I knew the truth. The power had cut off automatically when she left the house to meet her lover. She hadn’t had time to turn it back on when she returned. I simply muttered, “Yeah.” “Why are you so early today?” she asked. “It’s pouring out there,” I answered with a shrug. “Guess folks aren’t in the mood for deliveries tonight.” “Doesn’t that mean we’re losing out on cash? The delivery fees go up when it rains!” she protested. Her lips formed a pout, a hint of frustration coloring her voice. She had no idea that, at night, I wasn’t just delivering food. I was also running errands on the side, taking any job I could find to make extra money. If her heart truly held concern for me, she would’ve picked up on the slight limp as I walked or the tremor that shook my right hand. Yet, she asked not a single question. She was merely playing the part of a wife. The hot water poured over me in the shower, mixing with my tears. Pain and disappointment flowed down my cheeks, but I clenched my teeth, refusing to let out a sound. Lilian and I had been in love for three years before we got married. Two years had passed since then. How could I simply walk away after five years entwined with her? What if the one I truly loved were to suddenly disappear from my life? Would I crumble into pieces? I slapped my own cheek hard. I hated my incompetence and my cowardice. Lilian had been with me for five years, but I still hadn’t given her the life she deserved. The truth was, I was incapable. I couldn’t pledge to her a bright future. Maybe that man was just a momentary lapse for her. Everyone deserved a chance to be forgiven, right? Those nights, I came home early. I settled next to her on the couch, the flicker of the TV casting shadows as we watched shows and scrolled through videos, sharing the quiet intimacy of late-night snacks. She would curl up in my arms, her body language betraying a growing restlessness.

“No orders these days?” Lilian asked. “I’ve been busy for over half a month,” I replied, leaning back on the couch. “I’m exhausted. I just need a break.” She rolled over, her gaze locking with mine, and said in an earnest tone, “It’s around Valentine’s Day, so flower deliveries must be booming. Are you sure you don’t want to cash in on that?” I stayed silent. Her brows furrowed, and her cheeks flushed with anger. She grabbed the remote and hurled it to the edge of the sofa. “I’m tired,” she snapped. “I’m done watching this. Let’s just go to sleep.” Just then, the doorbell rang. I jumped up and hurried to the door, returning with a bouquet of red roses. I handed them to her, my heart pounding. “Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’ll love you forever.” But the sweet response I’d hoped for never came. Lilian froze for a moment and took the bouquet stiffly. “Thank you,” she said flatly. My enthusiasm crumbled instantly. “Why the sudden urge to give me flowers?” she asked. “You’ve always said I’m clueless about romance,” I answered, striving to keep my voice from wavering. “Ninety-nine red roses speak the language of ‘forever and ever’. “Honey, will you always be with me?” My gaze must have been too intense because she shifted uncomfortably, her hand brushing her neck. “It’s like a sauna in here. Let me fix the thermostat,” she said, getting up to adjust the heat. She turned away, and I let out a bitter laugh, my eyes burning. “Hey, you know what?” I began. “Four days back, when I was out late, I ended up delivering a box of condoms to Riverside Heights.” The roses slipped from her hands and hit the floor with a soft thud. “And I got to thinking,” I continued, “what kind of couple goes six miles out of their way to a drugstore for condoms? Certainly not the respectable kind.” I stepped closer, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “How could they compare to my perfect wife at home?” Lilian’s back stiffened, her shoulders trembling. I approached her, placing my hands on her tense shoulders, speaking as much to her as to myself. “Do you know what I saw? “I saw that guy who took you to the hospital last time. What’s his name again? Hugh Wilson, right? “What did you call him in there? Cutie? And what did you call me? Moron?” “No, honey, please, let me explain,” she pleaded. “Moron?” I echoed, my voice rising. “What a thoughtful nickname! Should I act foolishly to match it?” My eyes, red and swollen, throbbed with pain as I fixed my gaze on her guilty face, her eyes brimming with tears, but I couldn’t shed a single tear. Why? I kept asking myself. Why? Why was I the one who’d been devoted to her while she could smile at me and sleep with other men just two months after she lost the baby? “You said you weren’t feeling well, so I didn’t touch you!” I shouted, my voice cracking. “There were twelve condoms in that box! Twelve!” The pain in my chest felt like a thorn, twisting and digging deeper into my spine. Lilian collapsed to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. She clutched at the hem of my pants, her voice breaking as she pleaded for a chance to explain. “What’s there to explain?” I yelled. “Going to another man’s house for a late-night snack? What did you use? A condom? “Let’s get a divorce, Lilian.”

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