Category: English

My boyfriend, Liam Sterling, was hailed by the media as the “God of the Ice.” As his assistant coach, I had been by his side from his days as an unknown rookie to his meteoric rise to superstardom. He once promised me that the moment he secured a Grand Slam, he would retire and we would finally get married. But five years passed. He remained one medal short, and our engagement was delayed over and over again. Until his very last race before retirement. I went to the locker room to swap out his skate blades, only to hear the unmistakable, heavy breathing of a couple hooking up in the bathroom stall. “Mia, you’re making my knees weak with just one kiss. You really are a little succubus.” “You threw away so many races for this little succubus, Liam. You better make sure you lose this one too. I’ll give you a real reward tonight.” Liam laughed, agreeing easily, his arms clearly wrapped tight around her waist. “We have time. Let’s go another round.” I stood outside the stall door. The razor-sharp edge of the spare ice blade sliced into my palm, drawing blood. Loving someone for five years, only to realize they are rotten to the core… so this is what it feels like. I turned around and walked out of the locker room. The exact moment Liam Sterling officially announced his retirement, I publicly, unequivocally blew the whistle on his five-year career of match-fixing. I stood outside the stadium, taking several deep breaths. The freezing wind rushed down my throat, finally calming the boiling rage in my chest. My phone rang. It was the bridal boutique. “Hi, Ms. Hayes! Just calling for a final confirmation—your wedding date is still the 8th of next month, correct? We’re ready to send the invitations to the printer.” A massive roar erupted from the stadium behind me. I turned my head and looked at the giant jumbotron displaying the final rankings for the Men’s Speed Skating Championship. Fourth place: Liam Sterling. He missed the bronze by exactly 0.1 seconds. Exactly as planned. I let out a bitter, cynical laugh, speaking directly into the phone: “The wedding is canceled. You don’t need to print them.” When I walked back into the stadium tunnels, Liam ran up to me, drenched in sweat. He pulled me into a crushing hug, his voice dripping with fake, manufactured guilt. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn. I swear I gave it everything I had. If I had just been a fraction of a second faster…” I forcefully shoved him away. Meeting his confused, slightly panicked eyes, I spoke with absolute, freezing calm. “It doesn’t matter.” “I’ve already canceled the wedding. We’re done.” He stared at me in pure shock, his voice spiking an octave in defensive anger. “I can’t control whether I win or lose! Do you think I’m not devastated right now?! You’re my fiancée! Instead of comforting me, you’re breaking up with me?! Evelyn, do you have no heart?!” I suddenly thought back to five years ago. Liam had absolutely crushed the competition at the Winter Olympics, taking home his first gold medal and becoming an overnight sensation. In front of a wall of flashing cameras, he wildly, ecstatically announced our relationship to the world, swearing that the moment he secured a Grand Slam, he would retire and marry me. Over the next three years, he shattered record after record, hailed as a once-in-a-century speed skating prodigy. Just as everyone assumed he was about to become the youngest Grand Slam champion in history, he hit a catastrophic, inexplicable slump. He lost race after race. That final gold medal… He dragged it out for two entire years, intentionally throwing eighteen separate competitions. Just last night, before we went to sleep, he was still enthusiastically looking at wedding floral arrangements with me, debating whether we should walk down the aisle to Ed Sheeran or John Legend. And like a complete idiot, I actually thought he had finally found his rhythm again. “Alright then. Let’s go to the courthouse right now and sign the papers. Do you have the guts?” Liam instinctively frowned, stepping back. “I told you I’m going to marry you! Why are you always pushing me?! You’ve waited five years, can’t you just wait a little longer?!” Before the words fully left his mouth, Mia Foster sauntered over and possessively linked her arm through his. “Evelyn, you are so incredibly unsupportive. Liam has sacrificed his entire youth for speed skating, and the second he retires, you’re trying to force him into a shotgun wedding?” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Did he sacrifice his youth for speed skating, or did he sacrifice it for you? Do I really need to spell it out?” Mia waved her hands in mock innocence, but her eyes were gleaming with toxic, triumphant vanity. “You can’t just make up lies like that! Liam and I are completely platonic! If he hadn’t sponsored my education, I never would have made it out of my hometown. I’ve always looked up to him as my savior!” “If you’re so insecure about me being near him, fine, I’ll leave! Don’t ruin your relationship over me! Or, if you need to vent, you can hit me! I promise I won’t fight back!” She grabbed my hand and forcefully dragged it toward her own face, trying to stage a slap. Just as my hand was inches from her cheek, Liam violently smacked me across the face. “Evelyn, that is ENOUGH! What right do you have to complain?!” “So what if I lost?! Who can guarantee they’ll win first place forever?! Just because I didn’t get the gold, you’re canceling the wedding?! You are a materialistic, gold-digging bitch!” Chapter 2 Right at that exact moment, the bronze medalist walked past us, his medal hanging heavily around his neck. He flashed Liam a respectful, albeit confused, salute and spoke in heavily accented English. “Man, you really are a god. Before the race, when you said you were going to ‘gift’ me the bronze, I thought you were just trash-talking! I didn’t expect you to actually yield an entire body length at the finish line!” The self-righteous fury on Liam’s face instantly shattered, freezing into sheer, suffocating panic. Meeting my dead, icy stare, he stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. “No, that’s not… I didn’t let him…” But I was entirely done listening to his garbage. I turned on my heel and walked away. Liam tried to chase after me, but Mia suddenly let out a dramatic, high-pitched gasp. “Liam! Look, the press is swarming! We just lost the race, let’s go out the back and lay low for a bit!” The second I got into a cab, my phone buzzed with a text from Liam. [Go home and wait for me. We need to talk.] I sat in our shared apartment for three agonizing hours. But he never showed up. Instead, I saw the #1 trending topic on Twitter that had dropped just seven minutes ago: [Ice God Liam Sterling Suffers Crushing Defeat, Seeks Comfort in the Arms of Mystery Beauty.] The attached paparazzi photos showed him and Mia with their fingers tightly interlocked, completely unbothered by the cameras, sharing a single boba tea with two straws. I turned off my phone, walked into the bedroom, and started packing my suitcases. While emptying the closet, I found the custom engagement contract his family had drafted for us. His father had commissioned a master jeweler to engrave our vows onto a solid sheet of 24-karat gold, symbolizing that our marriage would be unbreakable. But now? It was completely worthless. I placed the heavy, solid gold plaque back into its velvet-lined mahogany box. A gift this expensive needed to be returned in person. When I arrived at the front gates of the Sterling family estate, I suddenly heard the sound of shattering porcelain and Liam’s father roaring in apocalyptic fury. “THIS IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT!” “Evelyn is the only daughter-in-law this family will ever recognize! If you want to break off this engagement, you’ll have to wait until I’m dead!” His mother was frantic, her voice echoing into the courtyard. “Exactly, Liam! I told you years ago you were too arrogant, promising a Grand Slam on national television! Now that you’ve lost, Evelyn is obviously devastated. Just go buy her some flowers and coax her a bit, she’ll get over it. She gave up her own career to be your assistant coach for five years! What other woman would sacrifice that much for you?! Stop acting like a spoiled brat!” Listening to his parents desperately try to salvage the situation, I felt a complex, hollow numbness in my chest. Five years ago, I declined a highly coveted, six-figure head coaching position with the International Skating Union just to stay by Liam’s side as a low-level assistant. I waited five years for a promise he made to the cameras. We hadn’t signed the marriage license yet, but everyone in our social and professional circles already viewed us as husband and wife. But you can’t keep a man whose heart has already rotted. I was just about to walk through the front doors when I heard Liam’s voice slice through the tension. “Mia is pregnant.” “Mom, Dad. Mia is carrying my child. We already did the genetic testing. It’s a boy.” “So in this lifetime, she is the only woman I am going to marry!” The massive, opulent living room plunged into a suffocating, dead silence. His mother was the first to recover from the shock. Her tone completely, instantly shifted. “Evelyn doesn’t know about this yet, right? You absolutely must keep this a secret.” “Even if we have to cancel the engagement, we need to strategize. We have to spin the narrative so that the breakup looks like it was Evelyn’s fault, otherwise, this scandal will completely destroy your post-retirement branding.” Liam’s father, who had just been screaming that he would only recognize me as his daughter-in-law, was completely, hypocritally silent. I lowered my eyes, gently placing the mahogany box on the stone patio table in the courtyard. I was just about to leave quietly when I bumped directly into Mrs. Higgins, the next-door neighbor, who was coming over to borrow a lawn tool. “Oh, Evelyn! Visiting the in-laws again?” The heavy oak front doors violently swung open. Liam and his parents stood in the doorway, their faces masks of absolute, petrified horror. “Evelyn… how long have you been standing there?” Chapter 3 I tapped my fingers lightly against the mahogany box and spoke with eerie, absolute calm. “I came to return the engagement contract. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, from this day forward, I have absolutely no relation to your family.” “Evelyn, I refuse to break up! If you dare walk away right now, you’ll regret it!” I didn’t hesitate for a single second. I turned and walked away. But as I reached the end of the affluent, tree-lined street, I ran straight into Mia. “Assistant Coach Hayes! Are you here to cry to Liam’s mommy and daddy? You’re a grown woman, and you’re still playing these pathetic, childish games?!” Without Liam around to play the victim for, she completely dropped the innocent act, revealing her true, venomous face. “It’s a tragic shame, really. I’m already carrying Liam’s son. Oh, by the way, do you want to know where we hooked up for the very first time?” “It was last year when you went out of town for that coaches’ conference. In your apartment. In your bed. I gave myself to him…” Before the words fully left her mouth, I delivered a brutal, full-force slap directly across her face. SMACK! Suddenly, a massive swarm of paparazzi holding heavy cameras and microphones poured out from behind the parked cars, completely surrounding us. Mia instantly dropped to the pavement, clutching her head and wailing hysterically. “Assistant Coach Hayes! I know Liam losing the race is devastating, but please, I’m begging you, don’t cancel the engagement! He’s already so depressed, please don’t treat him like a disposable ATM!” Without any warning, she dropped to her knees and started violently kowtowing to me on the concrete, sobbing like a martyr. “If you’re angry, take it out on me! I can help you make money! I’ll sell my blood, I’ll sell my kidney! Liam is my savior, and I will protect him with my life!” The paparazzi practically shoved their microphones into my mouth, firing off aggressive, accusatory questions. “Using your fiancé as a cash cow?! No wonder Liam’s performance has been absolute garbage for the last two years! People like you need to be exposed and blacklisted!” “You are a cancer to the sports industry!” Liam sprinted down the street. When he saw the scene, his face turned a terrifying, livid shade of purple. He aggressively shoved me backward. “EVELYN HAYES, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND?! You intentionally called the press here to humiliate me, and now you’re physically assaulting Mia?! Have you no respect for the law?!” He was always like this. He never bothered to ask for the context; he just blindly, violently took Mia’s side. Last year, during the World Championships, he missed his starting heat because he was out hiking in the mountains with Mia. Afterward, Mia brushed it off with a sickeningly casual excuse: “What’s more important? Winning a stupid medal, or making sure you’re happy and relaxed?” To salvage his reputation and save his career, I flew across the country, begging the senior officials at the ISU to give him a second chance. And while I was burning my professional bridges to save his future… he was in my bed, fucking Mia! A suffocating, volcanic rage exploded in my chest. I let out a sharp, cold laugh. “The law?” “You are the one who has absolutely zero respect for the law!” Before I could finish my sentence, Liam stepped aggressively in front of the flashing cameras. “Since the press is here today, I am officially, publicly announcing the termination of my engagement to Evelyn Hayes.” “Because I will absolutely never, ever marry the daughter of a murderer!” Chapter 4 The entire street erupted into absolute, chaotic shock. Even I froze, my brain completely short-circuiting. “What did you just say?” Liam didn’t even look at me. He stared directly into the cameras. “It is a well-known fact that Evelyn’s father was a highly respected, elite rock-climbing coach. But years ago, while leading a team during a major competition, he became so obsessed with speed and breaking records that he illegally unclipped a climber’s safety harness, causing the athlete to plummet off a cliff to his death. And he covered it up, claiming it was a tragic accident.” “YOU’RE A LIAR!” I roared, lunging forward to tear his throat out, but Mia physically blocked me. “I can testify under oath that every single word Liam is saying is true! Because the athlete who died that day… was my biological brother.” “My brother fought so hard to make it out of our impoverished town. My entire family believed he was going to be a world champion. We never imagined his coach would murder him. After the ‘accident,’ Coach Hayes gave my family a massive payout as hush money, threatening to slaughter our entire family if I ever tried to leave my hometown.” “Assistant Coach Hayes, isn’t that the real reason you declined the offer from the International Skating Union? You were crippled by guilt! You didn’t dare show your face on the global stage, so you hid here as a pathetic, low-level assistant!” My brain felt like a grenade had just detonated inside it. She knew damn well that the only reason I stayed in the States was so Liam and I wouldn’t have to do long distance! And the climber who died that day… he died because he was a psychotic, hyper-competitive narcissist! Realizing he was about to lose the race, he intentionally unclipped his own safety harness so he could lunge across the rock face and sabotage the climber in first place! The resulting fall was entirely his own fault. My father pitied the boy because he came from severe poverty, so he secretly sent his family a stipend every single month. Even on his deathbed, my father made me promise to check in on Mia’s family from time to time! I was shaking with apocalyptic rage. I grabbed Mia by the throat. “YOU LYING, VENOMOUS BITCH! MY FATHER NEVER HURT ANYONE!” But my screams were instantly drowned out by the chaos of the press. The story detonated like a nuclear bomb, dominating the #1 trending spot on every single social media platform for three straight days. [No wonder Liam has been losing ever since he announced their relationship! Evelyn is a literal curse!] [The daughter of a murderer! The sociopathic gene is probably hardwired into her DNA! She should be locked in a federal prison for the rest of her life!] The athletic commission immediately issued a formal suspension notice. My career, my reputation, and my entire life were completely, catastrophically annihilated. Radical, deranged fans doxxed my home address. They ambushed my mother while she was walking to the grocery store, throwing dead rats and trash at her, screaming death threats. The sheer terror triggered a massive heart attack. She was rushed to the ER in an ambulance. Standing outside the ICU doors, people walking past were still pointing at me and whispering. “That’s the murderer’s daughter. Honestly, the hospital shouldn’t even treat her mother. The wife of a killer can’t be a good person anyway…” My fists were clenched so tight my nails drew blood from my palms. I was shaking uncontrollably. “MY DAD WAS NOT A MURDERER! I AM NOT THE DAUGHTER OF A KILLER!” But no one cared. No one listened. Liam called me right at that moment. “Evelyn, as long as you behave, come to my office, and publicly apologize to Mia on camera, I’ll hire a PR firm to scrub the black PR against you.” Mia’s voice immediately echoed in the background. “Honestly, I just wanted justice for my brother. Evelyn, if you come to my brother’s grave and kowtow to apologize, we can just let this whole thing go.” I laughed. A bitter, hollow, freezing laugh. “Why the fuck would I apologize? For you inverting reality? Or because you let him knock you up?!” Liam barked aggressively through the phone, “SHUT YOUR MOUTH!” “I’m offering you an out, and you’re spitting in my face! Fine! You just wait!” The call disconnected. Just then, the red light above the ICU doors turned off. My mother had temporarily stabilized, but she was still in critical condition. She lay exhausted and frail in the hospital bed, weakly gripping my hand. “Evelyn… your dad… he didn’t kill anyone… he didn’t…” I nodded forcefully, hot tears finally breaking through my lashes and soaking my face. “I know, Mom. I promise you, I will clear his name! I will get justice for Dad!” I didn’t know what sick, twisted move Liam was planning next, but I knew one thing for absolute certain. I was done playing the victim. I was done staying silent. Liam delusionally believed he could manipulate the media and control the narrative, but he forgot one crucial detail: his biggest, most catastrophic vulnerabilities were sitting right in my hands. I spent the entire night compiling the evidence. The very next morning, I walked flawlessly, confidently into the grand ballroom of Liam’s official Retirement Gala. In front of the blinding flashes of every major sports network and news outlet in the country, I plugged a flash drive into the main projector and displayed the security footage from the locker room. “Ladies and gentlemen. I am officially, publicly blowing the whistle on Liam Sterling. For five years of premeditated match-fixing, bribing medical staff to falsify pre-race drug tests, and engaging in illicit sexual relations with a fan, resulting in pregnancy…”

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The day I was born, the moment the nurse handed me to my parents, the joyful smiles on their faces instantly froze. Hovering just above my smooth, newborn head was a string of numbers that only they could see. 6,570 days. Exactly eighteen years. Not a day more, not a day less. The nurse assumed they were just nervous first-time parents. But my mom and dad knew the truth—that number was the countdown to my death. While the other families in the maternity ward were celebrating new beginnings, my parents were staring directly at my end. For the next eighteen years, I was the most cherished person in our household. No matter how tight money got, I got the fresh eggs, the new clothes, the best cuts of meat. My younger brother could only watch with hungry, envious eyes. My parents would always tell him, “Let your sister have it. She doesn’t have much time left.” I grew up understanding the assignment. I never threw tantrums, never caused trouble. I just quietly waited to die. On my eighteenth birthday, I blew out the candles and sincerely said my goodbyes to the world. The next morning, my parents and my brother walked into my bedroom, dressed in somber black, their eyes red and swollen from crying. I rubbed my eyes, sat up, and smiled at them. “Good morning.” The air in the room instantly solidified. The profound grief on their faces slowly morphed into shock. Then into a stiff, awkward stiffness. And finally, into a chilling coldness. … The silence dragged on for a full ten seconds. “How… how are you…” My brother hid behind my mom, his voice trembling like he was looking at a ghost. “I didn’t die,” I said. My dad’s face cycled through several expressions before he finally forced out a strained smile. “That’s good. That’s good you didn’t die…” He nudged my mom’s arm. “Go make breakfast.” My mom offered a delayed, wooden nod. She walked to the doorway, stopped, and looked back at me. The look in her eyes was so complex I couldn’t understand it. For the first time in eighteen years, I felt like something in my home was terribly wrong. Breakfast was just plain oatmeal and toast. My brother, out of habit, pushed the plate of scrambled eggs toward me. I reached out to take some. Smack! My mom slapped my hand away so hard it left a bright red mark. “You’re an adult now! Are you really going to fight your little brother for eggs? Grow up and be considerate for once.” I pulled my hand back and quietly finished my oatmeal. After breakfast, I immediately jumped up to wash the dishes. In the past, whenever I tried to do chores, my mom would rush over, stop me, and say with a doting smile, “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to do that. Let Mom handle it.” This time, she just shot me a cold, sideways glance and said nothing. After washing the dishes, I forgot to wring out the sponge and left it sitting wet on the edge of the sink. My mom walked into the kitchen, saw the sponge, and her expression instantly twisted in fury. “Are you blind?! You just leave a soaking wet sponge sitting there to grow mold?!” I was startled and quickly reached for the sponge. “I raised you for eighteen years!” she screamed, following right behind me, her voice shrill. “We gave you the best of everything! The eggs, the meat, the brand-new clothes! Has your brother ever worn anything that wasn’t a hand-me-down?! You’ve been living like a princess! And you can’t even wash a damn dish right…” “Mom, I washed them. It’s just the sponge…” “Don’t you dare talk back to me! Are you out of your mind?!” She snatched the sponge from my hand and violently hurled it onto the floor. “Look at you! Walking around with that miserable look on your face! You’ve been alive for eighteen years and you don’t even know how to wring out a sponge! What use are you?!” My dad walked into the kitchen at that moment. He looked at my mom, who was red in the face with rage, and then at me, standing there in utter shock. He waved his hand dismissively, like he was breaking up a pointless argument. “Enough yelling. Both of you, go find something useful to do.” I bit my lip hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “Mom, Dad… are you acting like this because I didn’t die?” Their bodies instantly went rigid. My dad took a deep breath, forced an awkward, hollow laugh, and said, “We’re just… we haven’t adjusted yet. We need… we need some time to process this…” I watched them walk away. Faintly, I heard my dad mutter under his breath, “Eighteen years, and she just doesn’t die. What kind of sick joke is this?” I couldn’t understand it. I was alive. Wasn’t that something to celebrate? I looked out the kitchen window. The sunlight looked exactly the same as it always did. But as it fell on my skin, it suddenly felt freezing cold. After that day, the atmosphere in the house changed completely. I was moved into the cramped storage room. My mom said my brother was a growing boy and needed the larger bedroom with better sunlight. My mom stopped asking what I wanted for dinner. Instead, when setting the table, she would set one plate short in silence, shoot me a resentful glare, and then reluctantly grab another set of silverware. My dad spoke even less. Sometimes, when he came home from work and saw me sitting on the porch, he would pause, then intentionally walk around the house to use the back door. Only my brother would occasionally linger near the storage room door, watching me. The look in his eyes was strange—like he was observing a freak of nature. Before, I was the precious treasure they had spent eighteen years desperately loving. Now, I was the scapegoat for every single thing that went wrong in the house. If a faucet wasn’t turned off all the way, my dad’s brow would furrow deeply. The gentle tone he used to use with me was completely gone. “Did you do that on purpose? Do you know how expensive the water bill is?! All you do is drain our resources!” “Dad, I swear I didn’t…” “Don’t call me Dad!” he roared, before turning and storming off. When my brother failed a math test by one point, my mom exploded. “It’s because you’re constantly hovering around the house, distracting him! We were supposed to finally be able to live a normal, peaceful life, and you ruined everything!” If the rice at dinner was slightly undercooked, my mom would slam her fork down. “It’s because you didn’t die! You bring bad luck to this house! Even the stove is fighting against me now!” I stood there, helpless, my eyes red and tears streaming down my face. I muttered brokenly, “I thought I was going to die, too.” The breaking point happened one evening when I flipped a light switch, the bulb flickered, and then blew out completely with a loud pop. My mom completely lost her mind. “You are a curse! Ever since you lived past eighteen, everything in this house breaks! You’re a jinx!” “Eighteen years! Six thousand days! Your father and I counted down every single day raising you! We gave you everything, and left your brother with nothing! We mentally prepared ourselves to say goodbye to you, over and over and over again… and you…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but I understood perfectly. Their eighteen years of sacrifice, the neglect they showed my brother, the agonizing countdown they had so carefully managed—it had all turned into a massive, humiliating joke. It wasn’t because I was alive. It was because they realized that all the money they had spent on me, all the things they had denied my brother—things that were supposed to be justified and resolved the moment I died—were now entirely meaningless. I thought that if I just worked myself to the bone, if I swallowed my pride and endured the abuse, if I somehow made up for my “mistake” of surviving, my parents’ hearts would soften. I thought they would remember how much they used to love me. I took over every single chore in the house. I did the laundry, cooked the meals, bought the groceries, mopped the floors. I worked harder than a paid housekeeper. I cooked elaborate, different meals every day. I kept the house spotless. But no matter how perfectly I did everything, it never earned me a single kind word or a smile from my parents. I grew thinner and thinner, my face gaunt and exhausted. The neighbors eventually noticed the shift in how I was being treated and began gossiping. One neighbor tried to reason with my parents. “Don’t be so hard on Mia. She’s still your daughter.” My mom, right in front of the neighbor, scrunched her face in absolute disgust. “As far as we’re concerned, we never had a daughter. She’s a freak. She’s a curse on our family’s luck! Keeping her around just brings us endless misery!” My dad chimed in right beside her. “We raised her for eighteen years! We’ve fulfilled our moral obligation! Now she’s just leeching off us, dragging this family down!” Those words were like daggers plunging directly into my heart. The pain was so suffocating I couldn’t breathe. Every minor inconvenience in the house became a weapon they used to attack me. But it was an incident with my brother that became the final straw. That day, it was just my brother and me at home. I needed to use the bathroom, but when I tried to open the storage room door, the handle wouldn’t turn. I panicked, pounding frantically on the wood. “Leo! Open the door!” No one opened the door. Instead, I heard a loud crash from the kitchen—the sound of things shattering—followed by a cry of pain and Leo screaming. When the door finally opened, it was my mom. The second the door swung wide, she slapped me across the face with everything she had. “You jinx! I knew leaving you home alone would end in disaster!” Her eyes were bloodshot; she looked like a rabid animal. She collapsed onto the floor, slapping her own thighs and wailing. “My life is a curse… raising a freak for a daughter! You ruined any chance this family had at a good life!” My dad came home right then. He saw Leo’s broken leg, he saw my mom acting like a lunatic, and the madness seemed to infect him instantly. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, hauled me up, and violently threw me back onto the small cot in the storage room. “Mia! You are a plague on this house! Just die already!” My voice was raw and hoarse from crying as I desperately tried to explain. “Mom, Dad, it wasn’t my fault! Leo was trying to steal the cookies from the top cabinet and he slipped…” They didn’t listen. They locked the door from the outside. No food. No water. I could hear everything happening outside. My mom cooking dinner in the kitchen. My dad’s heavy footsteps pacing the living room. Leo loudly complaining about his leg hurting. No one mentioned me. Not once. I curled into a tight ball on the freezing cot. My cheek was swollen and burning from the slap. My body was on fire with a high fever, yet I was shivering uncontrollably from the cold. My consciousness began to blur. I thought, This time, I’m really going to die. Good. Dying is better. Dying means I’m finally free. In my delirium, the eighteen years of my life flashed through my mind like a movie on fast-forward. As far back as my memory goes, I could feel the different way my parents looked at me. At first, I didn’t understand the meaning behind that gaze. It felt like they were looking at a fragile porcelain doll that could shatter at any moment. It was careful, but loaded with a complex emotion I couldn’t decipher. Later, I realized it was a mix of pity, helplessness, and profound sorrow. They never, ever talked about my future. Our family was always living on a countdown. The neighborhood moms would praise me for being so mature. They said I was always so quiet, never throwing fits or making a fuss. They didn’t know I wasn’t making a fuss because I just didn’t see the point. I grew up fast. I was mature because I had nothing to fight for. Kids in kindergarten would cry over a piece of candy or throw a tantrum because they didn’t get a gold star. I never did. The candy I was given was always the biggest piece. The gold star was always handed to me first. My teachers loved me. They said I was an “easy” child to manage. Only I knew that I wasn’t “easy.” I was just waiting. Waiting for the day that invisible number hit zero. When my brother was born, I could feel the guilt in my parents’ eyes even more intensely. When he was five, he snuck a piece of meat from my plate. My mom caught him and spanked him mercilessly. He cried and screamed, “Why does she get to eat it, but I can’t?!” My mom didn’t answer. She just kept spanking him. Afterward, she hid in the kitchen and cried for a long time. “Sis,” my brother had whispered to me later. “Are you really going to die?” “Mom says you’re going to die. Sis, I don’t want you to die. You can have all the meat from now on.” The memories of my mom and brother’s eyes from back then tangled with the look in their eyes now, making my head pound with agonizing pain. Did they love me? Yes. They did. But that love had an expiration date. It was entirely predicated on the countdown. It was a love built entirely around the concept of saying goodbye. Eighteen years. The countdown ended, and so did their love. I figured if I died now, maybe that love would be preserved in their memories. We would all remember each other at our absolute best. My mom, stroking my hair with a loving smile. “Mia is the most beautiful princess in this new dress.” My dad, lifting me high into the air, promising to show me the most beautiful sights in the world. My brother, secretly saving his favorite yogurt drinks just to give them to me. Those moments felt so incredibly close, yet impossibly far away. I forced my heavy eyelids open. I was still in the storage room. There was no light coming in. There was nothing. I twitched my fingers, trying to reach under my pillow for the letter. A letter I had written to my mom, my dad, and my brother. I had written it a long time ago. I pulled a weak, bitter smile. I just hadn’t managed to die on schedule. There was also a pink piggy bank. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to buy a small toy for Leo. I drifted off to sleep again. I thought that when they finally found me and saw those things, maybe they wouldn’t be so angry at me anymore. This time, my sleep was incredibly deep. Dreamless. I could hear my own heartbeat. Thump. Thump. Thump. And then, slowly, very slowly… it stopped. The storage room fell completely, utterly silent. No one knew. No one came to check. The little girl who had spent her entire life waiting to die… finally didn’t have to wait anymore. The moment I detached from my body, I felt incredibly, impossibly light. I floated in the air near the ceiling, looking down at my stiff, lifeless body on the cot. I marveled at the fact that souls actually existed after death. I phased right through the drywall and finally stepped out of that cramped, suffocating room. Lunch was set on the dining table. Three place settings. My mom had finished cooking. My dad was serving the rice. My brother was sitting at the table, waiting. I floated over and sat in my usual chair, waiting for one of them to ask, “Where’s Mia?” But no one did. After lunch, my brother limped toward the storage room. My eyes lit up. I screamed silently, Leo, open the door! I promise I’ll never be a burden to you guys again! But before his hand could even touch the doorknob, my mom’s voice lashed out from the kitchen. “Leo! What do you think you’re doing?! Get away from that door! Do you want your leg to hurt worse?!” Leo flinched, terrified, and quickly hobbled away. That afternoon, Mrs. Higgins from next door came over to borrow some salt. “Where’s Mia? I haven’t seen her around the last couple of days.” My mom’s expression went rigid for a second, but she quickly smoothed it over. “She’s not feeling well. She’s resting in her room.” “Is it serious? I have some medicine at my house if…” I offered a sad, bitter smile. Mrs. Higgins, no medicine in the world can save me now. “No, no, it’s fine!” my mom said, her voice a little too rushed. “It’s just… she’s fine. She just needs a couple days of rest.” Mrs. Higgins didn’t press the issue, and I lost my chance to be discovered. After she left, my mom glanced nervously toward the storage room door several times, but she never once walked over to check on me. When my dad got home from work that evening, I spread my arms wide and tried to block his path. Dad! Please, I’m begging you, just go look at me! I promise I won’t make you guys angry ever again! The countdown is really over this time! But my dad walked right through me. “She still locked in there?” he asked. My mom didn’t say anything. “Open the door,” my dad said. I was practically weeping with joy. Was I finally going to be discovered? Would my mom and dad be sad? Would they tell me I was a good girl? As my mom took a step toward the storage room, the house phone suddenly began ringing frantically. My dad picked it up. His face instantly drained of all color. He looked like he was about to collapse. My mom was startled. She ran over and grabbed his arm to steady him. I sighed. I was so close. So incredibly close to being found. “We have to go! We have to go back to my hometown right now! My brother just called… Grandma is dying!” They scrambled to grab their coats and rushed out the door with Leo. The storage room door remained locked. I was forgotten once again. Even though I was dead and had no heartbeat. Hearing the news about my grandmother still sent a phantom ache through my chest. Over the past eighteen years, Grandma loved me the most. Knowing I was only going to live to eighteen, she had spent countless nights awake, crying over me. I floated into their car and followed them back to our rural hometown, wanting to see Grandma one last time. Grandma was lying in her bed, looking as fragile as dry kindling. She gripped my dad’s hand tightly, forcing the words out with agonizing effort. “David… where is Mia? Why isn’t she here?” My dad looked away, his face etched with guilt. “She… she stayed home. She didn’t come…” Grandma’s eyes suddenly widened in horror. “You bastard. What did you do?” My dad panicked and immediately confessed the truth. “Mia just made a mistake, so I punished her by making her skip a few meals…” Hearing that, all the remaining strength seemed to leave Grandma’s body. She muttered something under her breath. “Mom? What did you say? I can’t hear you.” My dad leaned in desperately close to hear her fading voice. “What about Mia? What do you mean she wasn’t supposed to die?” He pressed his ear practically against her lips. I was floating too far away to hear what she said. But I watched my dad’s body instantly turn to stone, as if he had been struck by a massive bolt of lightning. The expression on his face twisted into absolute, horrifying disbelief. He even forgot to blink. “MIA!!” I jumped. My dad let out a scream of pure, unadulterated terror. His face was ghostly white. Ignoring my mom’s frantic, confused questions, he started sprinting out of the house like a madman, muttering over and over, “We got it wrong… we got it completely wrong…” What did they get wrong?

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A pair of best friends walked into my nail salon on grand opening day. The moment they sat down, they started tearing into their boyfriends. One of them sounded exaggerated, but she couldn’t hide the sweetness in her voice: “My boyfriend is great in every way, except he’s a total animal in bed. Eight times a night, minimum.” “He doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body, just materialistic. Keeps buying me designer bags and jewelry. I’m actually getting sick of receiving them.” I had just finished her friend’s nails and was about to start on hers when she suddenly stood up. “Can you do them at my place instead? I’m trying on wedding dresses this afternoon, and I’m tight on time. Triple price.” One job for the price of three—of course I agreed. I grabbed my kit and followed her to her car. As she opened the door, her phone slipped and hit the ground. I bent down to help her pick it up, and the screen happened to light up. On her lock screen wallpaper, that “eight times a night” man was wearing a shirt I had bought him, holding her close with a look of pure adoration on his face. …… My breath hitched. The handle of my tool box dug into my palm, stinging. “Is this your husband?” Sophie smiled so wide her eyes crinkled, her tone pure boastful bliss: “Yeah! Even though I was just complaining about him, you can’t deny his looks.” She leaned closer to the screen, her fingertip tracing that face I knew all too well. “He was totally infatuated from the start. Told me he wanted to marry me the first time we met. He pursued me relentlessly for three whole years!” “If any guy even came near me, he’d chase them off completely. It was almost too much.” Three years. They had been together for three years. And I had been with Mark for five. Five years, and I had never received a public acknowledgment of our relationship from him. It turns out, that acknowledgment had already been given to someone else. I sat in her car mechanically, my mind buzzing. She pulled up in front of a bridal boutique. “Gotta try on a dress real quick, won’t take but a minute.” She looked back at me, her tone chirpy. “It’s fine, I’ll wait.” I forced a smile, my throat feeling like it was full of razor blades. As soon as we walked into the shop, the employees swarmed us, respectful and eager to please. Whispered voices floated into my ears: “Big client, a thirty-thousand-dollar dress!” “Mr. Sterling specifically instructed us to take perfect care of his fiancée. We’re definitely getting a nice commission.” A thirty-thousand-dollar wedding dress, and Mark had ordered it. I had brought up marriage once. I mentioned that in my family’s tradition, we do a symbolic cash gift—around ten thousand dollars—just for show, and the money would come back to us anyway. That time, it was the first time he had ever looked at me with anger. He slammed the door and left, giving me the cold shoulder for seven days. He called me a gold digger, asked me how I could have become so superficial. For those seven days, I asked myself repeatedly: Was I asking for too much? Was I really that materialistic? But now, a thirty-thousand-dollar dress, and he didn’t even blink. Yet a ten-thousand-dollar symbolic gift was labelled “greedy.” Whether someone loves you or not is truly crystal clear. After she came out from changing into her dress. I silently followed behind her and sat in that million-dollar luxury car. The car drove into the city’s top gated community, and the security guard at the gate saluted as he let us pass. I knew the houses here all too well; the starting price was five million. “Ms. Vance is truly young and accomplished,” I said, straight from the heart. But she just gave a light, cynical laugh. “What’s young and accomplished about me? I live paycheck to paycheck, spend it as soon as I make it.” She paused, her tone turning sweet: “It’s all because that jerk Mark bought this place behind my back. I was completely shocked when I found out the price. I said it was too expensive and I couldn’t accept it. He said if I couldn’t handle it, even better—that way I’d be too spoiled to run away.” He had once dragged me to look at this community. My family wasn’t wealthy to begin with, and he always told me he was in the early stages of starting his business. I said it wasn’t necessary, that when we bought a house later, an affordable starter home would be fine. But he insisted on bringing me to look, and even comforted me, saying that maybe someday we would have this. At that time, I was so warmed by his words, thinking he would definitely carve out a piece of the world for himself someday. Little did I know, that one and only time we went house hunting, it was also for another woman. Once inside the house, I set up my tools and began doing her manicures. Sophie was incredibly talkative, excitedly scrolling through her phone to show me her Instagram: August 15, 2023, Antarctic Aurora. In the photo, he held her, with the brilliant aurora in the background. That day, I had been splattered with paint by a client and called him for comfort. He said he was on a business trip and vanished for half a month. November 12, 2024, Bali Beach. They wore matching swimsuits, laughing brightly. That day my dad was in surgery, and I stayed at the hospital alone all night. I called him, and he said he was busy. She got more excited as she talked, scrolling to a photo from last month: “Oh, right! I told him I didn’t want kids, and guess what?” Her eyes were shining bright. “He went straight and got a vasectomy! Said as long as I’m happy, nothing else matters, kids or not.” My heart dropped violently, and I accidentally slipped and got nail polish on my own hand. In our five years, he never used protection, said it ruined the experience. Every time afterward, I was the one taking the pill. Taking so many hormones made me gain twenty pounds, and my cycle was never regular again. In the end, all that got me was a comment from him that I was undisciplined. But for her, he went and got a vasectomy. Sophie noticed my face was off and asked with concern, “Are you okay?” I bit back the bitterness and shook my head, pretending I was fine. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. She skipped cheerfully over to open it. My gaze fell in the direction of the door, and I held my breath. The courier was at the door. In his arms, he held 999 roses, a piercingly bright red. Sophie signed for them expertly, then turned around and dialed a number. “Mark! Can you take a break? 999 roses every single day. My place is piling up like a flower shop!” Her scolding tone was pure sweetness. “That money would be better used for charity.” On the other end of the line was that voice I knew all too well: “Wife, how can you be like this? I know you love flowers, that’s why I send them every day, and now you’re complaining?” “Is yesterday’s the same as today’s? Don’t try to save me money. Doesn’t a husband make money precisely for his wife to spend? If you’re like this, what motivation will I have to make money in the future?” My fingernails dug into my palm, drawing blood. Five years, and he had never sent me a single flower. The only time was when he accompanied me to pay respects to my father. He casually handed me a bouquet of white chrysanthemums—the kind meant for the gravestone. At that time, I even lied to myself: He just doesn’t understand romance, as long as the thought is there. But it wasn’t that he didn’t understand how to be wasteful; it was that I wasn’t the person he was willing to go through the trouble to be wasteful for. Sophie hung up the phone, sat back down, and extended her hand. “Hey sweetie, can you speed it up a bit? I need to go out and buy some things later, and tonight I have to go meet his parents.” “You guys are going to meet the parents?” I heard my own voice trembling. She tilted her head and thought about it: “Not really the first time. He’s taken me to meet his mom and dad before.” “You have no idea, his mother is too much. The first time we met, she gave me their family heirloom bracelet. I felt embarrassed taking it. This time it’s his mother’s birthday, she insisted I go, so I have to. Can’t refuse an elder’s kindness.” The family heirloom bracelet. My eyes were glued to her wrist. I had seen that bracelet. On his mother’s hand. Mark had taken me to meet his parents once before, too, but that time was not pleasant. From the start of the meal to the end, not a single person at the full table gave me a good look. After dinner, I was the one who washed all the dishes alone. When we got back, I cautiously asked him if his parents didn’t like me. He held me and said, “Don’t overthink it, my parents are like that with everyone.” Turns out it wasn’t comfort; they really didn’t like me. My chest was stiflingly blocked, my throat felt like it was being squeezed. I started coughing violently, struggling for breath. My acute cough was acting up again. “Omg are you okay?” Sophie scrambled to offer me water. I trembling pulled out my pill bottle and swallowed the medicine with the water. Finally recovering, she let out a sigh of relief. Then, she stared at my pill bottle. “Hey! Is this medicine from that master over at Nanshan?” I nodded. “My boyfriend begged for it. I have an acute cough.” She excitedly grabbed my hand: “Me too! I have an acute cough too! Mark specifically went and begged for this medicine!” “That master is incredibly difficult to appeal to, only acts on fate and won’t accept money. He kowtowed at every step for 999 steps just to beg for this medicine!” She smiled brightly: “But it was worth the kowtowing! I was all better the next day.” My hand violently jerked. “When was this?” The voice sounded like it was squeezed out of my throat. “Last year, January.” Last year, January. By then I had been coughing for six months. I had gone to all the major hospitals, and no medicine worked. Another six months passed, and Mark brought back a bottle of medicine. I asked him where it came from. He said, “Don’t worry about it, just take it.” After taking it, I really was cured. A colleague said this medicine was exceptionally rare, that you had to kowtow every step for 999 steps to get it. I was moved to tears at the time, silently cherishing every bit of good he had done for me. So later, even when he was away on business, often not coming home late at night, I never had a word of complaint. I just took it as him working hard for our future, but now reality gave me a brutal slap. Even the medicine he once begged for me was only because it was leftover from her. Sophie’s phone screen suddenly lit up. It was an electronic notification of a Master’s degree certificate from Clapton University. I lowered my head, brushing her nails, striving to keep my voice steady. “Ms. Vance is not only beautiful but also so talented, a Master’s degree from Clapton University?” “I remember the tutors’ theses there are incredibly difficult to pass; very few people from here can graduate.” Once, I also applied myself and was accepted into the Master’s program at this school. In order to graduate, I started preparing my thesis half a year in advance. But later, the thesis was still sent back, rejected. Later on, I wanted to revise it again, but then my mother met with an accident. With various family matters pressing down, I never had another opportunity to reapply. That was the regret of my entire life. Sophie’s eyes lit up, but she gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Oh please, it’s not that hard. Mark did my thesis for me, and he could pass it even as an outsider.” She paused, a trace of slight admiration in her tone. “But don’t say that, Mark is actually quite sharp. When that thesis was published, it directly got me offers from top-tier academic institutions with a seven-figure salary.” “But I thought it was too far, so I gave it up. Now I’m just getting by with this Master’s degree. Anyway, he’s supporting me now, so I don’t need to work. I can work whenever I want to play.” My heart violently sank. I had worked so hard for so long and couldn’t even exchange it for an opportunity to graduate. She can effortlessly get a seven-figure salary offer? I couldn’t help but tighten my grip on the nail file, asking tentatively. “Could I take a look at your thesis? I studied for a Master’s at this school once, too.” I wanted to know where the difference was between me and others. At least it would soothe my long-held regret. Hearing my words, Sophie flashed a look of surprise. But she still generously pulled out her phone, pulled up the old academic thesis, and handed it to me. I took the phone, my fingertips trembling slightly. When I saw the thesis topic, the arguments, the evidence, even the core points inside. It was exactly the same as my old thesis. My heart felt like someone had rawly torn it apart. The only person who had ever been in contact with my old thesis was Mark. I had also asked several senior colleagues and classmates in the academic group to check it for me, and they all said that with my level, graduating would be no problem. But right when my mom met with her accident, I was overwhelmed with family matters, so I had Mark submit it on the website for me. He said he had submitted it for me.

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My husband had been on location shooting a new project for three months. I hadn’t received a single video call from him; he just kept texting that it was a “closed set.” My heart ached for him. I bit the bullet, bought a plane ticket, and flew halfway across the country to visit him on set. When I got near the filming location, I tried to grab a coffee from Starbucks to bring him, only to be told that someone had bought out the entire store’s inventory for the day. I was just wondering which A-list celebrity was throwing their weight around when a heavily made-up woman bumped hard into me. “Are you blind?! Do you have any idea how much this Birkin costs? You couldn’t afford to replace it in a million years! My sugar daddy bought this for me with his black Amex!” I glanced down. The logo on the bag was literally printed crooked. It was a glaringly obvious, cheap knockoff. Bought with a black Amex? Yeah, right. My phone buzzed in my pocket. My husband, Liam, finally replied to my text. “Babe, the set is on total lockdown. The director is a tyrant, he won’t even let a fly in. You absolutely cannot come visit!” As I was typing a reply asking what was going on, I heard the woman next to me giggle coquettishly into her phone. “My sugar daddy is worth billions. I just batted my eyelashes, and he offered to buy the whole building to apologize to me. Get this—I told him I missed him, and he literally told his wife he was on a closed set for three months.” That excuse sounded way too familiar. My thumbs froze over my keyboard. Wait a minute. My husband was a struggling extra making two hundred bucks a day doing those trashy, micro-budget soap operas for TikTok. He played a billionaire CEO for two days, and now he actually thinks he’s a billionaire? He even found himself a fake mistress to play the part? … “What are you staring at? Jealous?” The woman’s shrill voice violently yanked me out of my absurd thoughts. She rolled her eyes and dramatically stroked the crooked logo of her fake “Birkin” with her cherry-red acrylic nails. “Makes sense. A broke, pathetic woman dressed in thrift store rags like you probably couldn’t even afford the hardware on this bag.” I ignored her insult. My gaze bypassed the fake bag and landed dead on the wrist she had raised. Around it was a breathtaking, flawless jade bangle. It was the heirloom my late mother-in-law had personally placed in my hands before she passed away. Before Liam left for this shoot, he had begged me with red, teary eyes to let him borrow the bangle. He claimed a crucial scene required a highly valuable prop as collateral, and that lending it to the production was the only way he secured the lead role. And now, that “crucial prop” was dangling from the wrist of this woman bragging about her sugar daddy. I clenched my fists tight, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Excuse me, miss. That bangle on your wrist… it’s quite unique.” The woman tilted her chin up arrogantly. “At least you have some taste!” “This is a token of love from my sugar daddy.” She intentionally waved her wrist right in my face. “I heard it’s a family heirloom. Priceless.” “He told me that only the true matriarch of the Sterling family is worthy of wearing it.” The Sterling family? I let out a cold laugh in my head. The micro-short Liam was currently filming did indeed feature a male lead with the last name Sterling. It was called something ridiculous like The Billionaire CEO’s Runaway Bride. Two hundred dollars a day. Was he actually living out his script in real life? I put on a mask of awe and looked at her. “A sugar daddy that generous must spoil you rotten, right?” “Of course he does!” The woman covered her mouth and giggled. “Mr. Sterling caters to my every whim.” “Yesterday, I casually mentioned the catered lunch on set was disgusting. He immediately waved his hand and ordered takeout from every five-star hotel in a ten-mile radius.” “Today, I wanted Starbucks, so he bought out all the coffee in the entire district.” She looked me up and down, her eyes dripping with undisguised contempt. “So, don’t blame me if you can’t get your coffee.” “Blame yourself for not finding a better husband.” Right at that moment, the phone in my pocket vibrated. It was a text from Liam. [Babe, the director lost his mind today. He’s been screaming for ten hours straight.] [I haven’t even had a sip of water. I’m literally eating stale bread.] [You seriously cannot come visit. The director said anyone whose family shows up is fired on the spot!] [Babe, I miss you so much. Once I suffer through these three months and get my paycheck, I’m going to buy you some nice new clothes.] I looked at the pathetic lies on my screen, then looked back at the woman bragging about her “five-star hotel takeout.” A violent wave of nausea hit my stomach. Ten years. I stuck by Liam when we moved from a friend’s basement to a leaky, moldy studio apartment. To support his dream of becoming an actor, I worked three jobs a day. I wouldn’t even spend six dollars on a latte for myself. And he took my blood, sweat, and tears—and my dead mother-in-law’s heirloom—to play pretend billionaire for another woman. “If your sugar daddy treats you so well, why isn’t he here buying your coffee with you?” I looked up, a mocking half-smile on my face. The woman’s expression faltered for a second before she haughtily puffed out her chest. “Mr. Sterling is a very busy man! He handles billion-dollar deals by the minute. You think he has time to run errands?” “He’s currently in his luxury hotel penthouse, running an international video conference!” “Although…” Her eyes darted around, and she intentionally leaned in close, lowering her voice. “His pathetic, ugly wife is probably sitting at home right now, counting his pocket change for him.” “She doesn’t even know her husband bought out an entire building just for me.” “It’s honestly sad. And hilarious.” I gripped my phone tight. “Is that right?” I asked softly, “That wife… she really does sound pitiful.” Thinking I agreed with her, the woman became even more smug. “Isn’t she?!” “Mr. Sterling told me himself. That woman is old, tacky, and her skin feels like sandpaper.” “If it weren’t for the fact that she slummed it with him back when he was broke, he would have kicked her to the curb years ago.” “Now, he basically just keeps her around as an unpaid maid.” Every single word felt like a dull, rusted knife slowly, brutally carving into my chest. I wasn’t bleeding, but the pain was suffocating. This was the man I had loved for ten years. “Ugh, I’m wasting my breath on you.” The woman glanced at the fake, rhinestone-encrusted Rolex on her wrist. “If Mr. Sterling finishes his meeting and can’t find me, he’s going to worry.” She swayed her hips and turned to leave in her stilettos. “Wait.” I called out to her. The woman turned back impatiently. “What now? Are you going to ask me to pay for your cheap clothes?” I shook my head, flashing a smile entirely devoid of warmth. “No, I just wanted to give you a friendly heads-up.” “Your bag… you can get it on Amazon with a coupon for forty-nine bucks. Free Prime shipping.” “Your billionaire sugar daddy is buying you knockoffs?” The woman’s face instantly turned ash gray. “What the hell are you talking about?! What does a broke bitch like you know about luxury brands?!” She stomped her foot in furious humiliation, turned, and practically sprinted into the lobby of the high-end hotel next door. I watched her walk away. My phone buzzed again. Liam: [Babe, why aren’t you replying? Are you mad at me?] I stared at the screen for a long time before slowly typing out a reply. [No, honey. I know you’re working so hard.] After hitting send, I looked up at the glittering, opulent entrance of the luxury hotel. “Liam. Since you love acting so much.” “If I don’t give you some extra screentime, it would be a total waste of your incredible talent.” I followed that woman into the hotel lobby. I walked straight up to the concierge and pulled out a photocopy of Liam’s ID. “Hi, I’m Liam’s wife. I’m here to drop off his stomach medication.” The concierge checked the registry and smiled warmly, handing me a keycard. “Mr. Sterling is in the Presidential Suite on the top floor. Go right ahead, Mrs. Sterling.” The Presidential Suite. At least a few thousand dollars a night. While Liam was crying poor to me on text last night, claiming he found half a cockroach in his set-catered meal. I gripped the keycard and stepped into the elevator. As the floor numbers ticked higher, my heart sank lower. When I reached the suite, the door wasn’t fully closed. It was cracked open just a sliver. The voices inside spilled clearly into my ears. “Arthur baby, I just ran into this pathetic, broke woman downstairs, and she had the nerve to say my bag was fake!” It was the woman from downstairs, her voice dripping with sickly-sweet whining. Immediately after, I heard a voice that was etched into my very bones. “There, there, babe. Don’t be mad.” “That bottom-feeding trash doesn’t know the first thing about luxury.” “When I get the final payout for producing this short film tomorrow, I’ll take you out to buy a real limited-edition one.” Liam’s voice oozed with an arrogant, superior swagger. I peeked through the crack in the door. Liam was wearing a suit that clearly didn’t fit him, the cuffs still showing uncut, fraying threads. But he was sitting spread-eagle on the leather sofa, swirling a glass of red wine in his hand with dramatic flair. The woman was kneeling on the plush rug, eagerly massaging his legs. “You’re the best, Arthur!” She cooed, leaning her head against his chest. “So, when are you going to divorce that ugly hag you have at home?” Liam’s hand froze for a second. A flash of annoyance crossed his eyes. “Why are you bringing her up? You’re ruining the mood.” “She relies entirely on me to survive. She’d starve to death without me.” “Once I finalize taking my company public, I’ll throw some cash at her and make her disappear.” I stood outside the door, listening to him shamelessly spin these psychotic lies. Relies on him to survive? His pathetic acting gigs didn’t even pay enough to cover our electric bill. For the last ten years, every single expense in our house was paid for by the overtime shifts I worked until my eyes bled. I took a deep breath and violently shoved the door open. BANG! A massive crash echoed through the suite. The two people on the sofa froze instantly. The wine glass in Liam’s hand jerked violently, spilling dark red wine all over his cheap suit pants. He whipped his head around. The moment he saw it was me, his pupils shrank to pinpricks. “You… what are you doing here?!” His voice was literally shaking. The woman was stunned, too. She looked at me, then looked at Liam. “Arthur, this is the broke bitch who bumped into me downstairs!” “How did she get in here?! The security in this hotel is garbage!” She stood up, pointing her finger right at my nose, screaming. Liam suddenly snapped out of his shock. He looked at the furious woman, then looked at me standing in the doorway, my face completely expressionless. A flash of pure panic crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a frantic, almost psychotic resolve. He shot up from the sofa, pointed at me, and roared aggressively. “Where the hell did this crazy stalker come from?!” “You actually followed me to my hotel room?!” I froze. Stalker? I stared at the man I had shared a bed with for ten years. I stared at his face, completely twisted by extreme, desperate vanity. “Liam, what did you just say?” “STAY BACK!” Liam bellowed. He didn’t even dare look me in the eye. He just screamed toward the hallway. “SECURITY! WHERE THE HELL IS SECURITY?!” “GET THIS CRAZY BITCH OUT OF HERE!” The woman sneered coldly from the sidelines. “So she’s just an obsessive, psychotic fan.” “Take a look in the mirror before you act crazy. You actually had the nerve to break into Mr. Sterling’s room?!” Several security guards came running down the hall. They aggressively grabbed my arms, one on each side. “Let go of me.” I stared at Liam with eyes like ice. “Liam, are you absolutely sure you want to pretend you don’t know me?” Liam clenched his jaw so tight the muscles in his face twitched. He turned his head away, refusing to look at me. “I have no idea who this crazy woman is!” “Get her out of here!”

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It was supposed to be the ultimate bachelorette weekend. Five days in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, before my best friend and college roommate, Sarah, tied the knot. Seven girls, endless margaritas, and a luxury all-inclusive resort. But less than an hour after checked into our oceanfront suites, the trouble started. Not with the bride, but with the maid of honor, Ashley. Ashley was wild, rich, and deeply insecure. She had booked us a private VIP tour of “historic underground cultural sites” in a nearby town for that very night. I knew Cabo. I’d spent my junior year spring break here. I knew that “historic underground” was code for unlicensed, dangerous strip clubs and donkey shows run by local cartels in cartel-controlled territory. Even if you managed not to get assaulted, there was no guarantee you’d make it out without getting kidnapped for ransom. I was the only one who knew the truth. But instead of stopping them, I encouraged them to go. I even told them it was the perfect place to find a “vacation fling” before the wedding. In my past life, I had tried to stop them. I had gone to the hotel manager, begging him to intervene. He had called security, who physically blocked the girls from leaving the lobby, threatening to evict us if they tried to go to that part of town. Ashley had thrown a fit, screaming at the manager, but Sarah had eventually talked her down, and we had stayed at the resort bar instead. A few hours later, Ashley, furious at me for ruining her plans, snuck out alone. She took an unlicensed taxi, and before she even reached the edge of the tourist zone, she was grabbed by four men. By the time they found her body two days later, there wasn’t much left to identify. When Sarah found out, she blamed me. She said I had made Ashley feel trapped, that if I had just let us go as a group, nothing would have happened. She said my “controlling nature” had killed her best friend. Before we left Mexico, Sarah had pushed me off a balcony during a drunken confrontation at the resort. “You killed her! It should have been you!” she had screamed as I fell. I had died from a severe brain hemorrhage the next day. My parents tried to sue the resort and file charges against Sarah, but Sarah’s family was wealthy, and the other bridesmaids, terrified of her, backed up her story that it was a tragic, drunken accident. Then, I woke up. I was back in the hotel suite. Ashley was already in her tiny, neon bikini, throwing a wrap over it, ready to head out. I stood in front of the door, blocking their exit. “Seriously, Audrey? You’re ruining the vibe before we even start,” Sarah snapped, looking at me. “You’ve always been such a buzzkill.” “Come on, Audrey, don’t be like that,” another bridesmaid, Megan, added. “Ashley said the trip-advisor reviews for this place are amazing. Authentic Mexican nightlife!” “You just don’t want us to have fun,” Ashley sneered, pointing a manicured finger at my face. “You’re jealous because Grant, Sarah’s fiancé, always says I’m the hot one. You’re scared Sarah’s going to find a hotter Mexican guy tonight and realize you’re completely irrelevant.” The other girls giggled, nodding in agreement. My heart went cold. They had no idea what they were walking into. In that part of town, sexual violence wasn’t a risk; it was a guarantee. Gang rapes, human trafficking, brutal assaults—it was an ecosystem built on the brutalization of tourists. We had booked a reputable group tour through Expedia for the entire trip. We were staying at a five-star Hilton, our tour guides were certified, and every stop was vetted. As long as we stuck to the plan, we were perfectly safe. But Ashley had found this “exclusive” place on some sketchy dark-web forum, promising a “true, raw Mexican experience.” In my past life, my desperate attempts to save them had cost me my family, my future, and my life. “Fine. You’re right. I’m just being a downer,” I said, forcing a smile and stepping away from the door. “Actually, I heard a rumor that the fewer people who go to this place, the more exclusive the experience is. Supposedly, if you go in a huge group, they just treat you like regular tourists. But if a few girls go alone… well, that’s when the real fun starts.” I was completely making it up, but it worked instantly. Ashley’s eyes lit up with vanity. “Wait, really?” she asked, already pulling up her phone to confirm this fake rumor. “Yeah, and suppposedly, the sexiest, most authentic Mexican men only approach the girls who look… adventurous,” I added, looking at their barely-there beach cover-ups. “Like, short skirts, crop tops… that kind of vibe.” Immediately, the conversation shifted. The other girls started debating what to wear, already fantasizing about their exotic encounters. “Okay, change of plans!” Ashley announced, clapping her hands. “We’re going to do this ‘adventurous’ look. No basic tourist vibe!” Sarah hesitated. “Wait, Grant said to be careful about where we go…” “Grant isn’t here, Sarah!” Ashley interrupted. “This is your bachelorette party! Live a little!” They were so excited as they left, talking about finding true Mexican passion. I watched them go, a cold smile forming on my lips. I wondered how excited they’d be when they realized that passion wasn’t exactly consensual in that part of town. As the elevator doors were about to close, they bumped into the groom, Grant, who had just returned from a bachelor fishing trip. When he saw what they were wearing and heard where they were going, his face turned bright red with rage. “Audrey, I told you to keep an eye on them!” he roared, looking at me. “You let them walk out looking like prostitutes to go to cartel territory?!” “Excuse me?” Sarah snapped, stepping forward. “We’re grown women, Grant. We can go wherever we want. You don’t own us.” Grant’s face twisted in disgust. “Fine. You want to act like a single girl? Go ahead. But if you walk out that door, don’t expect a wedding on Saturday.” The money talk always worked on them. All of them were depending on Sarah marrying into Grant’s family’s wealth. Megan immediately started backing up. “Sarah, let’s just… let’s just stay. Grant’s probably right. It’s late.” Sarah hesitated, looking back at Grant. Ashley, sensing the defeat, stepped forward. “Grant, don’t be a dick. This is my bachelorette party too. Let them go back to the room. I’m still going.” She winked at Megan. “Come on, Megan. Grant’s just being a controlling ass.” They were about to leave when Sarah put a hand on Ashley’s arm. “No, let’s just… let’s just go back to the room. Grant’s right. It’s late.” Sarah leading them back, everyone else reluctantly followed. I went back to the room, ready to call it a night, but as soon as I walked in, Sarah, Ashley, and Megan were waiting for me. Sarah looked furious. “Audrey, I know what you did. You went straight to Grant as soon as we left the elevator, didn’t you? You told him where we were going just to ruin our night.” I started to deny it, but Ashley cut me off. “Don’t bother lying, you little snake. Grant already admitted you texted him. What is wrong with you? Do you just hate seeing other people have fun?” Before I could defend myself, Sarah slapped me, hard, across the face. My vision blurred. “We came all this way, spent all this money, just for you to ruin it!” Megan added. “You’ve always been jealous of me, Audrey,” Sarah sneered. “Ever since college. You can’t stand that I’m marrying a millionaire and you’re still single and broke.” Then, Ashley came up with a “brilliant” idea. “You know what? Sarah’s right. Grant’s controls us because we’re dependent on him. Let’s just… let’s just go without his permission. We’ll sneak out.” The other girls, excited by the rebellion, immediately agreed. They grabbed a roll of duct tape from the minibar and taped my hands and feet together. Ashley leaned in close, her manicured nails digging into my arm. “Stay here and think about what a terrible friend you are, Audrey. When Grant realizes we left, he’s going to be so furious at you for letting us escape.” They left, locking the door from the outside. They were idiots. They thought the danger was Grant’s anger. They had no idea that Grant’s anger was the only thing standing between them and cartel thugs. I struggled with the tape, screaming for help, hoping a maid or resort security would hear me. Before I could scream a third time, the door was unlocked and pushed open. Sarah, Ashley, and Megan were back. “Audrey, you just can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?” Sarah sneered. They dragged me into the bathroom. Sarah slapped me again. “We were right down the hall and we could hear you screaming! You really don’t want us to leave, do you?” “I’m just trying to keep you safe!” I cried. Sarah laughed. “Safe? You’re jealous! You’re single, lonely, and you want us to be as miserable as you are!” Ashley smirked. “You know what? Grant controls us because we let him. We need to… we need to show him we’re strong. We need to show him we can handle ourselves.” She pulled a bottle of toilet bowl cleaner from under the sink and held it up to my face. “You need a good, clean dose of humility, Audrey.” She forced my mouth open while Sarah and Megan held me down. The noxious, burning acid flooded my throat. I gagged, struggling violently, splashing half the bottle all over Ashley’s neon bikini. “You bitch!” Ashley screamed. “This was custom-made!” She kicked me hard in the stomach. The pain was so blinding I almost passed out. Ashley told the other two girls to finish the bottle while she went to change. Megan hesitated. “Sarah, this is… this is bad. If she calls the cops…” “Megan, shut up,” Sarah interrupted. “Her parents are public defenders. My Grant’s family owns this hotel group. Trust me, Grant will cover for us. Besides, Audrey’s a liar. Nobody will believe her.” Megan was a total pushover, and Sarah was marrying millions. Neither of them wanted to mess that up. Ashley was screaming from the other room to hurry up. Sarah and Megan finished pouring the rest of the chemical down my throat. The acid felt like it was dissolving my esophagus as it went down. But it was nothing compared to the burning rage in my heart. I couldn’t understand. I had never done anything to hurt them. Why were they doing this to me? When they finished, Ashley was back, wearing a different swimsuit, telling them Grant had texted. They had to leave now. The hands holding me down let go, and I collapsed onto the cold bathroom floor, gasping for air. Ashley kicked me one last time in the stomach. “Clean this mess up, loser.” I lay in the bathroom all night, completely paralyzed by the pain. It wasn’t until Grant came looking for us the next morning that I was discovered. When he saw the state of me, he immediately cut the tape and asked what happened. He said he hadn’t been able to reach any of them since they left. “Grant, I’m so sorry,” I cried. “I tried to stop them. They tied me up… they did this to me…” His face went pale. He pulled out his phone, ready to call the police, but the call came in first. He listened, and then he collapsed onto the floor. “It’s over.”

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Midnight had passed, and my husband was working late again. Seeing me sitting forlornly in the living room, he proactively handed me his phone. “Check it.” “The passcode is your birthday.” With that, he went straight into the bathroom to take a shower. I looked at the phone in front of me and gave a bitter half-smile. Even if I checked it a hundred times, what was the point? He had long since scrubbed it clean. Shortly after, Ethan came out of the shower and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Nothing there, right? I told you, you can trust me.” I looked up, only to see a thin, faint scratch mark on the back of his neck. I gave a cynical, mocking smile. I didn’t explode. I just calmly pushed him away. “Let’s get a divorce, Ethan.” I had had enough of living like this. The air went dead silent for a few seconds. Then, a crisp, shattering sound rang out. It was the sound of Ethan accidentally knocking over the vase next to him. That vase was the very first decoration we bought together at IKEA during our first year of marriage. From a cozy one-bedroom apartment to a spacious condo, and now to a luxurious mansion. We had treated it like a lucky charm, witnessing our stumbling journey all along the way. Now, the vase was shattered completely. Just like our seven-year marriage. It could never be repaired; we could never go back to how things were. I pulled my gaze away from the shattered pieces on the floor and looked back at Ethan. “I’ve already had a lawyer draft the divorce papers. Remember to sign them…” Before I could finish, Ethan abruptly cut me off. “My hand got cut by the vase, Emma.” I paused, looking down. Only then did I realize that his hand had been sliced by a flying shard. Bright red blood was dripping onto the floor. “Emma, help me clean this up,” Ethan said, his voice hoarse. He rarely showed weakness to me. But I also knew this was his usual tactic for seeking a truce. As long as I took the out he was offering and proactively helped bandage him up, we would be “back to normal.” But this time, I just calmly looked away and said coldly: “It’s just a small cut. Put some ointment on it and it’ll be fine.” I paused, steering back to the original topic. “Once you’ve dealt with that, remember to sign the divorce papers.” Ethan’s eyes suddenly darkened. “Emma, I’m literally bleeding. How long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum?!” Ethan sounded genuinely confused. In his eyes, it was as if cheating wasn’t really a mistake. Especially since, after my hysterical crying and screaming, he had set up auto-delete for all those ambiguous text messages. He had even changed all his passcodes to my birthday. So he didn’t understand why I was still “throwing a fit.” I subconsciously rubbed the mottled scar on my wrist and stayed silent. Right then, his phone rang. It was that familiar ringtone, the one that had frequently sounded in the middle of the night for nearly a year. Ethan used to explain that it was an emergency line for his company, and I hadn’t doubted him. Until his birthday. I was at Whole Foods, picking out his favorite fish, hesitating over whether to bake it or fry it. Then I looked up and saw him, right there with my own eyes, holding another woman close as they picked out snacks. In that moment, everything finally clicked. Ethan had been cheating on me for a long time. And that woman was his childhood friend he had mentioned in passing, Chloe. Perhaps because we had already confronted it and he had come clean, Ethan didn’t bother making excuses this time. He answered the call right in front of me: “I’ll be there right now. Wait for me.” After hanging up, completely disregarding the cut on his hand, he hurriedly grabbed his car keys to leave. As he reached the entryway, he suddenly cast a deep, piercing look at me. His tone was filled with disappointment: “You never used to be like this, Emma.” What was I like before? Offering him a burning, devoted heart, only to be wounded by him until I was covered in scars? Because I cared too much. Because I couldn’t bear to let go of this ten-year relationship. Not to mention, back then, he had gotten me pregnant. So I endured the pain and chose to forgive him. He also promised to keep his distance. But what was the result? The scar on my wrist… wasn’t that the ultimate proof of my stupidity? I rubbed that scar. It felt as if the festering wound was oozing pus again, hurting so much I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, a loud “BANG—” interrupted my thoughts. Ethan had slammed the door and left. I knew he was going to find Chloe again. I stared at the closed door and gave a faint, bitter smile. “Goodbye, Ethan.” Half an hour later, Chloe posted an Instagram story visible only to me. “He said I’m the only one whose heart aches for him, and told me never to leave him.” The accompanying photo showed the back of Ethan’s head buried in her embrace, and their tightly interlocked fingers. Just tens of minutes ago, Ethan had said I could trust him. But the “trust” he spoke of probably meant trusting the pure “friendship” between him and Chloe. Trusting that when he missed my prenatal check-ups time after time for Chloe’s minor inconveniences, it was just out of “loyalty” to a good friend. Trusting that the two of them spending an entire night naked in the same bed was just an innocent way of “catching up.” Shortly after, just like many times before, Chloe completely deleted that post. As if what I had just seen was merely a hallucination born of my “paranoia.” Then, she sent another message. “Hey girl, Ethan was just in a really bad mood tonight, so he came over for a drink. Please don’t overthink it.” “It really isn’t worth it for an outsider like me to affect the relationship between you husband and wife.” Don’t overthink it? I looked at those words and couldn’t help but sneer. I still remembered when I dragged my fever-ridden body to confront Ethan with screenshots of Chloe’s Instagram. He had explained it the exact same way. “Chloe and I grew up together. She went abroad for college and stayed there. Now she’s finally back in the States. Can’t I just catch up with an old friend?” “Emma, you’re just sitting at home sick with too much time on your hands. That’s why you’re always overthinking things.” Seeing that I was running a high fever, my face growing paler by the second, Ethan seemed to realize he had misspoken. He quickly pulled me into his arms, resting his forehead against mine. “Em, even for the sake of our child, you should trust me. Please don’t overthink it, okay?” He gently wiped away my tears, his tone full of helpless affection. “Stop crying, Em. Alright, I promise you, I’ll keep my distance from her.” Seeing my tears flow even harder, Ethan deleted Chloe’s contact info right in front of me. He even changed all his passcodes to my birthday. Ten years of history. Seven years of marriage. And our child was about to be born. At that time, I truly couldn’t bear to let go. So I gritted my teeth, forgave him, and chose to trust him one more time. But what happened after? Less than a month later. Right when I unexpectedly went into premature labor, had just learned the baby had died in my womb, and needed to recover in the hospital the most… He decisively left the hospital, all because of Chloe’s single text saying her “stomach hurt.” I instantly broke down. Like a madwoman, I grabbed the fruit knife next to me, my voice hoarse as I asked him: “Ethan, are you sure you want to choose her? If you take one step out that door, we are completely finished!” Ethan’s expression instantly turned nasty. He looked at me like I was insane. “Emma, stop acting out. I’ve hired private nurses to be here with you, and the doctor already said you’re stable.” “Chloe just got back to the States. She doesn’t have anyone here, and she’s always had health issues. I have to go. Don’t make this difficult for me.” After saying that, he never looked back, leaving me with only a resolute silhouette. The moment the hospital room door clicked shut, the knife in my hand also slipped from my grasp… It slashed my wrist, leaving that grotesque scar. The vibration of my phone pulled me back from those distant memories. It was a voice message from Ethan. He sounded drunk. “Em, please stop being mad at me. Let’s have another baby, okay?” A baby? I subconsciously rubbed the scar on my hand. I thought the pain had already numbed. But hearing him mention a child again, my heart still ached in waves, almost drowning me. It took a long time before I finally managed to calm my emotions. I raised my hand, wiped away the last tear, and silently blocked both Ethan and Chloe’s numbers. Then I made an overseas call: “Dad, I’ll meet you at the airport in three days.” For the next few days, Ethan didn’t come home. I didn’t bother asking when he’d be back. I just started packing my bags. But the imprint left by seven years of marriage was too deep. So many items had shadows of Ethan. The white scarf Ethan gave me on our first date. I had worn it for many years and could never bear to throw it away because he had spent months knitting it himself. There were many other “firsts” he gave me—things Ethan had poured his heart into, staying up late to make for me by hand. They were all carefully treasured in a safe. I couldn’t bear to lose them. Later, as Ethan’s career became more and more successful, his gifts became increasingly expensive. I continued to accept them with joy because they were all proof that Ethan had once loved me deeply. But later still… in our second year in the mansion, Chloe appeared. The vanity table slowly began to fill up with various luxury brand watches and jewelry. The closet gradually filled with the latest haute couture from every season. Some of these were worth hundreds of thousands, some even millions, but they were no longer given out of love. They just became Ethan’s “apologies” and “compensation” for making me wait alone for countless nights… all for someone else. I looked at these items and coldly bypassed them. Then I only packed the things that truly belonged solely to me. On the day I finished packing everything, Ethan happened to come home. Seeing the suitcase in my hand, he frowned. “Where are you going this time?” He still thought I was just throwing a tantrum. After all, the old me had threatened to run away more than once. I didn’t deny it. I just lowered my eyes and said, “Going to clear my head.” Ethan didn’t sense anything wrong. Instead, he pulled me into his arms. “Em, I’ve been waiting for a text from you all week.” Waiting for my text? But I clearly remembered that in the past, whenever I texted asking him to come home… All I got in return was his dismissive impatience. He cupped my face with both hands, staring intently into my eyes. “As long as you said the word, I would have come right back. But you didn’t.” Ethan sounded aggrieved. As if during those days, the person keeping another woman company wasn’t him. I didn’t call out his lie. I just gave a faint smile. Ethan mistakenly thought my anger had passed. He leaned down and kissed the corner of my mouth. “Em, I knew it. You’re not like your dad.” Not like my dad? The words Ethan blurted out stabbed into my heart without warning. The pain made it hard to breathe. He knew exactly how much trauma my mother’s infidelity and domestic violence had caused my father and me. If my dad hadn’t been resilient enough, brave enough… the person buried in the grave right now would be him! He wouldn’t have escaped abroad to live the life he wanted. And now, Ethan casually dismissed everything my biological father had fought so hard to build. And the knife he used… was handed to him by the old me, the one who had loved him wholeheartedly. Meeting my red, swollen eyes, Ethan awkwardly tried to explain: “Sorry, Em. I meant… you don’t have to struggle like your dad did. Just staying by my side is enough.” “Is that right?” I suddenly smiled, looking straight into his eyes. Meeting my gaze, Ethan’s heart inexplicably tightened. But he didn’t dwell on it. He thought this meant I wanted to reconcile. He nodded repeatedly, his tone certain: “Of course. Em, you just need to trust me like you used to.” I scoffed internally but didn’t show it. Just then, my phone rang. I looked up at him and said calmly: “My ride is here. Ethan, you should get back to work.” “Okay.” Ethan still hadn’t noticed anything unusual. He even considerately walked me to the door. Before getting into the car, I called out his name. “Hmm?” “Goodbye, Ethan,” I said. Let this be my final farewell to Ethan, a farewell to my past. He ruffled my hair, smiling. “Alright, go have a good trip and relax. I’ll work hard at home to make more money to take care of you.” I still didn’t say anything. I just took one last, quiet look at him and gave a small wave. As the car neared the airport, my phone started vibrating frantically. It was an unknown number. Thinking it was spam, I blocked it immediately. But as I exited the screen, I saw an anonymous text message. “Emma, your baby didn’t die. Ethan lied to you.” I stared at that line of text, my mind going completely blank. My baby didn’t die? Ethan lied to me? I took several deep breaths before I finally regained my senses. With trembling hands, I tapped into the chat and typed word by word: “Who are you? What does this mean…” Before I finished typing, the other person sent a video. It looked like a secretly recorded video. In the video, Ethan and a small infant in his arms were being hugged by Chloe. Their backs were to the camera. Chloe spoke: “Ethie, are you sure? Are you really going to let me adopt you and Emma’s baby?” The knuckles of the hand gripping my phone turned stark white. The next second, I heard Ethan’s affirmative voice. “I promised you, so of course I won’t go back on my word. Besides, my child is your child.” “But…” Ethan cut her off, patting her shoulder. “I’ve arranged everything. Emma will never know. Don’t worry. Plus, you have a weak constitution, it’s hard for you to have kids.” Ethan paused, his tone light: “But Emma is different. If she still wants a child, she and I can just have another one later.” At the end of the video, Chloe shot a provocative look at the camera. It turned out, in his eyes, I was just a tool to provide him with eggs. It turned out, that drunken request to “have another baby” meant exactly this. I sat in the car, my whole body turning cold. My fingernails dug so hard into my flesh that it was the only way I could suppress the rage boiling inside me. With trembling hands, just as I was about to tap “save video…” The next second, the sender immediately unsent the video. My face turned as pale as paper. I frantically told the driver to turn around and head straight for Chloe’s house. As soon as I arrived, Chloe was walking out of the front door of her villa. “Sister, what are you doing here so suddenly?” I gave a cold, cynical smile: “Chloe, where is my child?” Chloe kept up her act of complete ignorance. There was even a hint of surprise in her eyes. “Sister, what are you talking about?” “I know the baby died shortly after being born premature. You’re grieving, but you can’t just make up lies and slander me, right?” Seeing my face grow even paler, she suddenly leaned in close to my ear: “Sister, could it be that you developed postpartum depression after losing the baby and are having psychiatric hallucinations? I remember you used to always be paranoid about me and…” Before she could finish, I slapped her hard across the face. “You and Ethan, you two are absolute trash…” Just as my palm was an inch from Chloe’s face, someone suddenly grabbed my wrists with brute force. Then, Ethan’s cold, reprimanding voice came from above my head: “Emma, didn’t you say you were going on a trip to relax? Why did you run over here to act crazy?” I struggled frantically like a madwoman, but I still couldn’t overcome the bodyguard’s strength. My wrist bones felt like they were going to be crushed, yet it was still less than a ten-thousandth of the pain in my heart. I looked at Ethan with bloodshot eyes, my voice hoarse: “I know everything, Ethan.” Ethan’s pupils shrank for a fraction of a second, then returned to normal. I screamed at him hysterically: “Ethan, I’m begging you, give me my child back!” Seeing my bloodshot eyes, he pursed his lips, seeming like he wanted to say something. Chloe suddenly chimed in: “Ethie, is Sister having psychiatric hallucinations? I know she’s heartbroken, but didn’t the baby already pass away?” I snapped my head toward Chloe. Just as I opened my mouth to say something, I heard the coldest sentence I had ever heard in my life. “Take her to the psychiatric ward to get checked out. Acting crazy in public is a disgrace.” I struggled desperately, screaming at their retreating backs. “I’m not crazy! You’re the ones who are crazy…” The hospital examination results came out quickly. I was “diagnosed” with hysteria. Consequently, Ethan quickly arranged for me to be hospitalized for treatment and specifically assigned extra people to “watch” me. The doctors subjected me to electroconvulsive therapy, nearly torturing me into a real “lunatic.” After the treatment ended, I had lost almost all my emotions. I lay numbly on the hospital bed. It wasn’t until I heard a faint signal beep from the window that I slowly climbed out of bed and calmly walked over. Just in the split second I was preparing to jump, Ethan suddenly opened the door and walked in. And so, he saw my silhouette leaping from the eighteenth-floor window. Ethan’s pupils contracted instantly. He rushed frantically toward the window, trying to grab me: “Em! No!”

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When my boyfriend and I were broke, splitting a single bowl of cheap instant ramen to save money, I told him about some juicy gossip I’d heard that day while picking up designer clothes for a consignment shop. “So there’s this new tech billionaire, right? Instead of living it up, he’s basically slumming it in a tiny apartment.” “Word is, he built his company from nothing, and he has this girlfriend who stuck with him through all the hard times.” “But now that he’s rich, he wants a young, beautiful trophy wife, but he also doesn’t want to let go of his original girlfriend. So he’s lying to both of them.” “Why are rich guys so messed up? Isn’t that just destroying someone emotionally?” My boyfriend’s hand froze. The piece of egg he was moving to my bowl dropped onto the table. I was so focused on mourning the wasted food that I completely missed how deathly pale his face had turned. Until the next day, when I went to a client’s house for a consignment pickup. I put on my white cotton gloves and carefully inspected the clothes and handbags. “These are incredibly hard-to-get limited editions. Ma’am, your husband really spoils you.” The client smiled. “He says I’m so young, he’s the one getting the better end of the deal. Every time we… you know… he buys me a bunch of gifts.” She lazily lifted one foot, examining her shoe. “These heels got wet in the rain. Just take them too. My husband will just buy me the newest season’s pair anyway.” I mentally calculated that this would mean an extra fifty bucks in commission. I could buy some late-night takeout for me and Liam to share. Happily, I bent down to help her take off the shoes. Suddenly, a gentle, familiar male voice echoed through the room. “Baby, why are you selling the things I gave you again?” “I’m going to get mad. Ten grand, twenty grand… to your husband, it’s the same as a couple of bucks.” I snapped my head up. My eyes locked onto a deep, dark gaze. Liam. The man who was supposed to be riding an e-bike delivering DoorDash right now was standing in this luxury foyer. In the fraction of a second our eyes met, a million questions surged up my throat. But they were instantly extinguished by the female client’s whiny, flirtatious complaint. “Hmph. Don’t let him fool you with how much he spoils me and gives me whatever I want.” “When he bullies me in bed, he’s absolutely ruthless!” Liam’s eyes shifted away from mine, his expression completely unreadable. He reached out and pulled her silk robe back up over her shoulder, covering a cluster of dark red hickeys. His voice was incredibly soft. “Chloe, fix your robe. We have company.” It wasn’t hard to imagine. How reverently he must have pressed his lips against her neck and chest to leave those marks. I suddenly noticed something else. They were wearing matching designer silk pajamas. A set that cost over two thousand dollars. Just a few days ago, I had held up my phone, showing Liam a picture of those exact pajamas. I couldn’t help but complain, “It’s just a piece of clothing, but I’d have to work for months just to afford it. I hate rich people!” He had kissed the corner of my mouth. “Audrey, we’ll have things like that too. I’m working hard so you can be a rich man’s wife.” I had taken it as a sweet, romantic joke, smiling contentedly. I never imagined that he would wear those pajamas first—and with someone else. They made him look impossibly wealthy and elite, elevating him to a status I could never reach. Chloe pouted, turning to lightly punch the man’s chest. “You jerk, you even get jealous of women now!” “Last time a guy at your company looked at me a second too long, you fired him on the spot.” “You think you’re some kind of mafia boss from a movie. You’re so mean!” The girl’s face was glowing with youth, packed with collagen and vitality. That was why she had the confidence to act so spoiled. I stood there, stunned, and it took me several seconds to snap back to reality. My voice came out hoarse. “Do you guys… own a company together?” My client, Chloe, pushed out her red lips. “It’s my husband’s company.” “When I was just an intern there, he landed a massive contract.” “He insisted I was his lucky charm, and he chased me relentlessly.” Those words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. Three years ago, Liam had enthusiastically drained our entire life savings to launch a tech startup. Later, he told me the startup failed, and he fell into a deep depression because of it. Turns out, he didn’t fail my expectations. He ran the company incredibly well. It’s just that the position of “Founder’s Wife” he promised me… He gave it to another woman. Chloe looked at me, her eyes full of genuine concern. “Ma’am, are you looking for a job?” “If you need money, I can set you up with something.” She patted her chest confidently. “Besides him, I’m the boss.” Liam chuckled lightly, pinching her nose. “Always causing trouble.” “Don’t just hire random strays off the street.” “From now on, our company is only hiring Ivy League graduates.” My chest suddenly felt incredibly hollow. Both he and I went to no-name state schools. We endured endless eye rolls and rejections when looking for jobs because of our lackluster degrees. Now that he was at the top, he was invalidating everyone with a background like ours. And by extension, he was discarding me. I tried desperately not to look at them flirting. I turned my head stiffly, looking around the room. This massive mansion Chloe lived in… I had never even seen the inside of a place like this in real life. Even in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t imagine luxury on this scale. The tiny apartment we had rented for eight years was smaller than one of the guest bathrooms here. Liam and I used to squeeze onto a full-sized bed. On rainy days, the ceiling leaked, and we patched it over and over again. Back then, we were so poor all we had was love. But I couldn’t understand it. Why were we able to share the suffering, but not the success? Once the fruit of our labor was ripe, he picked it and handed it to another woman without a second thought. Making my youth, and my love, look like a complete joke. Ten minutes later. I picked up the heavy bags filled with designer goods and turned toward the mansion’s front door. The plastic handles dug into my palms like sharp blades. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. Liam had his arm around Chloe, his thumb quickly tapping out a message on his phone. It was a secret code we used to use when we were playing around. Wait for me. I’ll contact you in a bit. I pretended I didn’t see it. Before leaving, I offered them a respectful, professional bow. From the wealthy suburbs to our cheap apartment across town, it was a two-hour walk. I was usually incredibly frugal, and I would have gritted my teeth and walked until my legs gave out. But today, for the first time, I called an Uber. The money I had painstakingly saved up for our wedding suddenly felt like meaningless scrap paper. I turned my head, looking out the window at the passing scenery. Certain memories clawed at the nerves deep in my brain. In college, I was the student council president. While reviewing dining hall data, I noticed a guy who only spent two dollars a meal, eating the cheapest slop available. That was Liam, the campus golden boy I had secretly crushed on for months. I started quietly applying for low-income grants for him, finding ways to take care of him without bruising his pride. Until Liam found out. He cried, begging to be with me, swearing he would make me happy in the future. Later, his mother was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. We went to the bank and withdrew the first twenty thousand dollars we had saved from our part-time jobs. On the way to the hospital, we were cornered by a group of thugs with baseball bats. Facing them down, I spoke calmly. “Let him go. I have all the cash.” I turned and whispered in Liam’s ear: “This is your mom’s life-saving money. Go pay the hospital bill.” “I know these guys. I can talk to them. I’ll be fine.” To this day, Liam still doesn’t know. That last part was a lie. Afterward, I even tried to lie to myself. To pretend that nothing happened that night in the alley. Stepping out of the Uber, my hands shook as I unlocked the apartment door. I hugged the toilet, dry heaving violently. I threw up my lunch, my dinner, and ten years of absolute trust. I frantically scrubbed my hands under the faucet. But the humiliation those men subjected me to… no matter how hard I scrubbed, I could never wash it off. I looked up at the mirror. My skin was rough and dull, and fine lines were starting to show at the corners of my eyes. What did I have to compete with a young girl in her early twenties? Suddenly, I started laughing. As I laughed, tears began to fall, one by one. He promised me everything, yet gave me nothing. And I never promised him anything. Yet I gave him everything I had. I don’t know how much time passed before Liam came home, acting as if absolutely nothing was wrong. But this time, he had finally given up the disguise. He was wearing a perfectly tailored dark suit, exuding an aura of wealth and arrogance, completely shedding the exhausted, broke delivery driver persona. His first words upon walking through the door weren’t a plea for forgiveness. Instead, he demanded to know why I was working a side gig. If it weren’t for today, I probably would have never discovered the truth. I looked him dead in the eye, my face perfectly calm. “Liam, you delivering DoorDash after work was a lie.” “But me working three part-time jobs every single day… that was real.” He instantly grabbed my wrist, his gaze sharp and aggressive. “Audrey, have I ever let you go hungry or cold these past few years?” “Who are you putting on this pathetic ‘poor me’ act for?” I stared at him intently for a long time. “I wanted to make extra money so you could afford to marry me sooner.” “Is that a crime?” My voice trailed off, becoming as light as a breeze. “But looking at things now, I guess there’s no need.” As the words fell, his grip on my wrist suddenly went rigid. I looked toward the bedroom. Liam and I used to curl up on that tiny bed. We would count on our fingers who we were going to send invitations to, and fantasize about how we’d decorate the venue. We role-played him putting the wedding ring on my finger countless times. Those dreams were the fuel that kept me going. But I never got the wedding I longed for. Instead, I got his betrayal. Wiping away my tears, I stared into his eyes and asked: “It’s been ten years. What exactly am I to you?” He rubbed his temples, looking exhausted and frustrated. “At a corporate dinner, I got too drunk and… I took Chloe’s virginity. I have to take responsibility for her.” “She’s just an innocent girl fresh out of college.” He stared at me for two full seconds, an expression I couldn’t read crossing his face. “Whereas you… before we got together, God knows how many men you’d been through.” His voice was icy, slithering into my heart like a venomous snake. Suddenly. I remembered our first time. When he entered me, his body suddenly paused. He went completely stiff. I didn’t want to rip open the old wound and tell him the truth. I looked at him nervously, whispering. “Does it bother you? If it bothers you, I can…” Before I could finish the sentence. He gently shook his head, his warm palm caressing my cheek. “You fool. I only feel bad for you.” “If only I had met you sooner. You wouldn’t have had to suffer through bad relationships.” Liam actually thought I had just dated a lot of guys before him. It’s my fault I didn’t see through his hypocrisy back then. I stupidly thought he was different from other men. I didn’t respond to his accusations. I pushed past him, grabbed his clothes, and started throwing them out the front door, one by one. His large hand covered mine. He let out a low sigh. “Audrey, don’t do this…” Suddenly, a vicious slap struck my face. Chloe had somehow found out my address. She sneered sarcastically, “Hey, old lady. Do you really think someone like you is allowed to touch my husband?” She shook her hand, which was red from the impact. Her hands were soft, white, and perfectly manicured. They had never known a day of hard labor. My hands were rough as bark, yet they had earned Liam’s first startup capital. I bit my lip hard, fighting back the tears. I turned to look at Liam. The man was watching me coldly, showing zero reaction to my swollen, red cheek. Compared to the young boy who used to get teary-eyed with devotion… He was a completely different person. Chloe was shaking with anger, her voice shrill. “When we were at the house earlier, I knew something was off about you.” “I said all those things just to make you back off.” “I didn’t expect a cheap slut like you to keep clinging to my husband!” She looked at me with absolute disdain, her eyes filled with naked humiliation. “You live in this hundred-square-foot dump, while I live in a multi-million-dollar mansion.” “Even now, can’t you figure out who he actually loves the most?” Liam’s brow furrowed slightly. He raised a hand to block Chloe’s next slap. He wiped away her fake tears, his voice deepening: “Haven’t you made enough of a scene? Let’s go home.” He swept Chloe up into his arms, carrying her bridal style, while she continued to whine and complain. “You jerk! You big jerk!” “You’ll eat anything, won’t you? How could you stomach trash like her…” The woman nestled in his warm embrace, her face radiating triumph. Downstairs, the engine of a black Bentley roared to life. Speeding away from the impoverished neighborhood where it so clearly didn’t belong. I lay on the sofa for a long time, until my entire body was freezing cold. My phone vibrated on the table. Chloe had sent me a link to a couple’s vlog account with a million followers. In her videos, Liam was the perfect lover. He was always endlessly patient, playing along with whatever bizarre couple’s challenges she came up with. He always looked at her with a gentle, unwavering gaze. It turns out, every time Liam told me he was going “out of state for business.” He was taking Chloe to chase blue whales in Antarctica, kissing her under Mount Fuji, and proposing by the Eiffel Tower. And me? I was wearing a stifling mascot suit handing out flyers in the dead of summer, and sorting packages at a freezing warehouse in the winter. Late at night, I would check my bank balance over and over, stupidly counting down the days to our imaginary wedding in my head. That night, after he left with Chloe, he never came back. I really wanted to know. When he pinned that young girl to an expensive mattress, completely exhausted after making love… Was there ever a single second where he remembered eating spicy ramen with me in this crumbling, tiny apartment? Did he remember holding me tight to keep me warm because we couldn’t afford to turn on the heat in winter? Chloe’s latest video was from their company’s annual gala. Liam had her wrapped in his arms, his face full of adoration. “For the next sixty seconds, every time you yell ‘Boss Lady,’ you get a hundred bucks.” “I’m covering the bonus pool, and there is no cap.” Amidst the roaring, chaotic cheers of the employees, Chloe laughed with wild, reckless abandon. Tears splashed onto my phone screen. Liam. Ten years together, and it meant absolutely nothing. The bitterness turned to tears, streaming from the corners of my eyes. I raised my hand and wiped them away, over and over, until my eyes were bloodshot and raw. Using details from the video, I tracked down his company’s address. 19 Ocean Boulevard. Before I left, I pulled an old, faded envelope from under my bed. Stepping into the ultra-expensive downtown high-rise for the first time, a wave of insecurity washed over me. “Hi, I’m looking for Liam Vance.” The receptionist glanced up at me. “Do you have an appointment?” I shook my head slightly. She flashed her acrylic nails and dismissively pointed toward the exit. “To make sure his wife feels completely secure, Mr. Vance issued a strict order: he does not see any unknown female visitors.” “Mr. Vance is famous for spoiling his wife. You? You don’t have a chance in this lifetime.” He certainly gave all his loyalty to Chloe. I didn’t leave. I waited for an employee to badge in and quietly slipped through the turnstiles behind them. Walking through the building. I saw high-end, spacious executive suites. Hundreds of elite employees hustling to close deals. Here, in just one hour, they could earn what took me a full day of grueling labor. Everyone’s future was so much brighter than mine. So bright it almost burned my eyes. Finally, I stopped in front of an office door. Through the crack in the door, I heard a man’s voice. Liam had the girl sitting on his lap in his executive chair, his large hands massaging her slender calves. His lips parted. “Chloe, what do I have to do to make you forgive me?” She reached up and grabbed him by the tie. Laughing flirtatiously. “Give me a baby. I want to use a baby to tie you down permanently.” “So you can never leave me and our child.” He let out a silent chuckle, leaning down for a deep kiss. “Okay. Whatever you want.” He picked Chloe up, unbuttoning his shirt as he carried her toward the private rest suite attached to the office. My eyes burned terribly. I remembered 20-year-old Liam telling me I was the only woman he would love for his entire life. I slowly looked up, glancing one last time at the gold plaque on the wall. It read: CEO’s Office. Tears streamed down my face. I could barely stay on my feet. 30-year-old Liam Vance, congratulations on achieving your startup dream. Even though I no longer exist in your future. Before I left, I took the envelope out of my bag and left it at the front desk. I sent him a text. 【Liam, I’m leaving.】 The next second, my phone rang. “Audrey, stop throwing a tantrum.” “Since you already know about me and Chloe, pack your things and get ready to move.” “I bought a penthouse for you downtown. The neighborhood is great, you’ll love it.” My voice was dead calm. “No need.” He paused, his voice softening. “I’m a nostalgic guy. You’ve been with me the longest.” “As long as you behave yourself, I can take care of you for a very long time.” Through the receiver, I silently shook my head. But I care. I care that you kissed her lips. I care that you held her body. A meal that’s already half-eaten… how could I possibly swallow it? I hung up the phone and got into a taxi. The city streets receded rapidly. I stared out the window. I pulled the SIM card out of my phone and snapped it in half. I threw away the phone plan, deleted my social media, and moved to a new city. Aside from knowing my name, what else do you really know about me? Liam, we will never see each other again. As Liam was leaving the office, his secretary stopped him. “Mr. Vance, a woman dropped off an envelope for you earlier.” It was a yellowed, faded police report receipt. [Complainant: Audrey Evans] [Incident: Sexual Assault by suspect John Doe and others.] The date on the receipt. Liam would never forget it for the rest of his life. It was the exact day, over ten years ago, when they were supposedly “mugged.” Tears dripped from the corners of his eyes. He dialed the number saved as ‘Wife,’ whispering in agony, “Audrey, pick up the phone…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “401617”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When the news of my husband’s sudden death arrived, I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just calmly reclaimed his shares in my company and filed the paperwork for his death certificate. I could do this so coldly because I had lived this life before. In my past life, my father—terrified that gold diggers and corporate sharks would circle his billionaire heiress daughter—handpicked three boys from a local orphanage, sponsored their elite educations, and raised them to be loyal, protective companions for me. I eventually chose the most brilliant of the three, Liam Sterling, to be my husband. But just three days after our extravagant wedding, he died in a tragic hiking accident. Heartbroken and devastated, I allowed his two “brothers,” Carter and Mason, to convince me never to remarry. I stayed a faithful widow my entire life. But when I turned eighty, I took a nostalgic trip back to the place we had promised to visit together: a sprawling lavender farm in Provence, France. And there, sitting outside a rustic villa, was Liam Sterling. A man who had supposedly been dead for sixty years. He was surrounded by children and grandchildren, looking incredibly happy. And the woman sitting next to him, his wife, was my former private driver, Audrey. Realizing I had been conned and manipulated my entire life, the shock triggered a massive stroke. I died right there in the lavender fields. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the exact day I received the news of his death. Let’s see how a dead man without a legal identity manages to live out his happily ever after this time. “Chloe, Liam spent his entire short life devoted to you. He only went up that mountain in the pouring rain to scout a location for your anniversary present.” “Now that he’s gone, you absolutely cannot remarry. It would break his heart.” “Oh, and regarding Liam’s company shares… you should transfer them to the two of us. We’ll stay by your side and protect the legacy Liam left behind.” Hearing those horribly familiar voices, I sat bolt upright in bed. I had actually been reborn. Back to the exact day Liam faked his death to elope with his mistress! “Where is Audrey?” Hearing my sharp question, Carter and Mason both froze. “Liam just passed away, and you’re acting completely indifferent! Why are you asking about a driver?!” “Do we mean that little to you?!” Looking at their feigned, defensive outrage, I didn’t get angry. I actually laughed. “Since Liam is dead, I am immediately clawing back the shares I transferred to him.” I turned to my assistant standing by the door. “Grab your coat. We’re going to the county clerk’s office. We are officially invalidating his identity and ordering a death certificate!” My assistant immediately spun on her heel to follow me, leaving Carter and Mason standing paralyzed in the bedroom. “Chloe! He just died! How can you be so ruthless as to seize his assets?! Shouldn’t those be divided among us, his brothers?!” Seeing their bloodshot, panicked eyes, I didn’t even break my stride. In my past life, when I heard the news of Liam’s death, I fainted from crying and swore to remain his widow forever. As for his shares, under their subtle, manipulative pressure, I transferred them equally to Carter and Mason. When I saw Liam and Audrey living their perfect life in Provence all those years later, I immediately knew something was wrong. I had my forensic accountants audit the company books. It turned out those two “brothers” had been using the dividends from the shares I gave them to funnel $500,000 a month to Liam, funding his luxurious, secret life abroad with his mistress! In my last life, I funded another woman’s fairytale. This time, the news of his death was exactly what I needed! My car had barely pulled up to the county clerk’s office when I got a text from my legal team. The 30% of corporate shares held under Liam Sterling’s name had been successfully clawed back and frozen under my primary holding company. I nodded in satisfaction and handed the thick folder of documents to the clerk behind the glass. “These are all the identification documents for my late husband, Liam Sterling. Please process his legal deregistration.” The clerk looked at Liam’s driver’s license photo, her eyes full of pity. “So young. Ivy League graduate, and married into the Vance family. What an absolute tragedy.” She efficiently typed the information into the federal database, pulled out her heavy “DECEASED” stamp, and raised it over the paperwork. Right at that critical second, Carter and Mason burst through the double doors of the office, gasping for air. “DON’T STAMP THAT!” Seeing the sweat pouring down their faces, a wave of bitter irony washed over me. I chose Liam to be my husband, yes. But regarding Carter and Mason, I had never, ever treated them unfairly. Aside from the corporate shares, they received the exact same luxury cars, penthouses, and black cards that Liam did. But from the very beginning, the three of them had conspired to con me. They scammed me for sixty years! While they were secretly wiring money to Liam so he could live lavishly with Audrey… I was constantly investing in their startup ventures, hoping they would build successful lives of their own. While they were easing their “grief” by secretly FaceTiming Liam… I, a billionaire CEO, was spending my evenings cooking their favorite meals to comfort them for the loss of their “brother.” While they used “overseas business trips” as an excuse to fly to France and reunite with him… I was secretly acquiring companies they liked as surprise birthday presents. I treated them like my own flesh and blood. They treated me like a bottomless ATM. Now, it was time to show them reality. Without the halo of the Vance family wealth, they were nothing but the charity cases my father pulled out of a group home! “Carter. Mason. When you speak to me, you will use proper respect.” Carter’s jaw dropped, his eyes blazing with furious entitlement. “We treat you like our closest family, and you’re using that tone to command us?!” Mason furrowed his brow, playing the disappointed peacemaker. “Chloe, what is wrong with you today? Did the news of Liam’s death trigger a psychotic break?” A cold sneer tugged at the corner of my mouth. I dropped the gentle, accommodating persona I usually wore for them and fully embodied the aura of a billionaire heiress. “Since when do I have to explain my actions to you?” Seeing my icy glare, they both looked stunned. Their fingernails dug into their palms, but years of ingrained reliance on my money forced them to lower their heads. “Yes, Ms. Vance. We just heard the news of Liam’s passing, and in our panic, we…” I had zero interest in hearing their pathetic excuses. I raised my hand, cutting them off. “Stamp it.” To make his fake death look convincing, Liam had somehow managed to bribe a doctor for an official coroner’s report. The clerk verified the coroner’s signature and, following my explicit instructions, slammed the heavy stamp down onto the paperwork. “Ms. Vance, I’m so sorry for your loss. Here is your husband’s official death certificate.” I gave a curt “Mhm” and casually tossed the document into my designer purse. Just as I took two steps toward the exit, Carter’s phone started vibrating violently in his pocket. He shot me a terrified, paranoid look and scurried into a quiet corner to answer it. Even though he tried to whisper, I still caught fragments of the frantic conversation. [How the hell was I supposed to know Chloe would be so ruthless?!] [Your passport has been federally flagged as deceased? You’re stuck at TSA and can’t board the flight?!] [Don’t panic! We’ll figure something out. Just make sure Audrey is safe, don’t let her stress out.] When Carter and Mason walked back toward me, their faces were ashen. They clenched their fists, looking ready to argue. Before they could even open their mouths, I beat them to it. “Call the PR department. Tell them to issue a press release. Chloe Vance is a widow, and I am officially accepting applications for a new husband!” Both of their eyes instantly turned blood-red. “Chloe! Liam just died, and you’re already trying to remarry?! Are you trying to insult his memory?!” “You just got lucky being born into money! Your actual personality is worse than a gutter rat!” “Besides the three of us who were raised to tolerate you, do you honestly think any man in elite society would actually want to marry you?!” I suppressed the boiling disgust in my chest and stared coldly at the two men throwing a temper tantrum. “What I say goes. Do it immediately!” Carter and Mason exchanged a look, their eyes dripping with blatant contempt. “If you think pulling a stunt like this is going to make us jealous enough to beg to marry you, you are deeply mistaken.” “In our hearts, you aren’t even worth a single fingernail on Audrey’s hand!” “Fine, we’ll post your pathetic press release. But Chloe, the day will come when you’re crying on your knees begging us to come back!” When my father heard the news of the press release, he immediately called me back to the family estate. Carter and Mason tried to follow my car, but I ordered my security detail to block the gates. “Vance family business has absolutely nothing to do with you.” The two of them, eating dirt at the gates, furiously spun their cars around and drove off. When my dad saw me, he let out a long, heavy sigh. “Chloe, you were so deeply in love with Liam. Have you truly thought this through? Are you really ready to move on?” Seeing me nod with absolute certainty, he pulled a thick manila envelope from his desk drawer. “If you’re absolutely sure, I actually have the perfect candidate in mind.” I didn’t even look at the profile. I accepted immediately. “If he meets your standards, Dad, he must be incredible. I’ll take him.” Seeing my decisive attitude, the exhaustion on my father’s face melted into a relieved smile. He told me he would tell Julian Hayes to expedite his return to the States so he could become my right-hand man. Hearing that name, my heart began to pound violently in my chest. The candidate my father had chosen… was Julian! My dad mentioned Julian was currently wrapping up a critical acquisition in London and would be back in exactly one week. I pushed down the overwhelming excitement in my heart and decided to give myself a proper vacation. I stayed at the estate, resting and resetting for the entire week. Carter and Mason didn’t try to contact me once. I had no idea what kind of scheme they were brewing, but I was more than happy to enjoy the silence. The day finally arrived when Julian’s flight was scheduled to land. I was just stepping out the front door to head to the airport… When I saw my “dead” husband, Liam Sterling, standing perfectly upright at the entrance to my driveway. The bespoke, ten-thousand-dollar suits I used to buy him had been replaced by a cheap, wrinkled t-shirt from a discount store. Stripped of the luxury styling, his supposedly “flawless, aristocratic” aura had completely evaporated. He looked like an incredibly average, unremarkable guy off the street. Standing next to Liam, playing the tragic victim, was my former driver, Audrey. Carter and Mason were hovering around her, constantly whispering words of comfort. What a spectacular performance of resurrection. It was glaringly obvious that since his passport was flagged and he couldn’t flee the country, they had to crawl back with their tails between their legs. I took a deep breath, took a few steps forward, and spoke with freezing indifference. “Liam. You’re not dead?” Before Liam could even open his mouth, Audrey aggressively stepped in front of him, shielding him like a martyr. “Ms. Vance! Can you please stop being so toxic?! He is your husband! Do you really want him dead that badly?!” I raised an eyebrow, staring at this woman who, in my past life, had lived in absolute luxury on the French Riviera, funded entirely by my bank accounts. “Who the hell do you think you are? Do you really think you have the right to bark at me on my own property?” Realizing she had dropped her submissive act, Audrey quickly lowered her head, playing the bullied servant. Liam immediately stepped forward to protect her. “She is my savior! I demand to know who you are, and why you are speaking to the woman who saved my life with such disrespect!” Seeing the confusion, Carter and Mason quickly jumped in to weave their web of lies. They claimed that while scouting the mountain for my anniversary gift, Liam slipped and fell off a cliff. He miraculously survived, but he hit his head on a rock and suffered severe amnesia. They said Audrey just “happened” to be driving by and heroically rescued him. They dramatically proclaimed that Audrey was no longer just a driver for the Vance family. Since she saved my husband’s life, she was now the esteemed savior of the entire Vance empire. After listening to their pathetic, rehearsed script, Audrey shoved her cheap handbag into Liam’s hands and tilted her chin up arrogantly at me. “I’m exhausted. I’ll have to trouble you, Ms. Vance, to find a luxury guest suite for me, your husband’s savior, to rest in.” Liam immediately put his arm protectively around Audrey and started walking toward my front doors. I snapped my fingers. The head of security stepped forward and slammed the massive iron gates shut right in their faces. Liam whipped his head around, glaring at me furiously. “They told me you are my wife! If she is my savior, she is your savior too! How can you be so incredibly disrespectful?!” I let out a soft, mocking laugh. They were acting their asses off. If I hadn’t been reborn and known the truth, I probably would have actually treated Audrey like an honored VIP guest! “Liam, you are my husband, that’s true. But in the Vance family, I am the only one who gives the orders.” “Get in the driver’s seat and take me to the airport. Right now. That is an order.” Liam’s eyes looked ready to shoot fire. Audrey strategically tugged gently on his sleeve and subtly shook her head, playing the pacifier. After a few seconds of tense silence, Liam bent his supposedly “proud” spine and personally opened the passenger door. Audrey smoothly slid into the front seat. “I apologize, Ms. Vance. Liam just woke up from a coma, and as his savior, I am deeply concerned about his medical condition.” “You are the CEO, I’m sure you won’t mind me riding up front to monitor him, right?” Liam didn’t even glance in my direction. He leaned in, gently buckled Audrey’s seatbelt, and then yanked the driver’s side door open. “If you’re coming, get in the back.” Hearing Liam use that freezing, commanding tone with me, the corners of Audrey’s mouth twitched upward into a victorious smirk. I let out a cold scoff and got into the back seat. These two were clearly trying to put me in my place. Establish dominance. But what they didn’t know was that my trip to the airport was to pick up my new, incoming husband. Thinking of Julian, I let out a deep, heavy sigh. In my past life, because I was determined to remain a faithful widow to Liam, Julian had stayed single his entire life, quietly and loyally protecting my business interests from the shadows without any official title. Now, in a twist of fate, he was the exact candidate my father had selected for me. A sudden, nervous flutter erupted in my chest. Just as I was lost in thought… The car violently jolted. I heard Liam let out a panicked shout as he wildly cranked the steering wheel. He intentionally swerved the car, forcing the left side—the side I was sitting on—directly into the path of an out-of-control semi-truck! A blinding, explosive pain ripped through my body. The very first words out of Liam’s mouth were him frantically asking if Audrey was okay. Audrey was sitting in the passenger seat! The side of the car that was completely untouched! What the hell could possibly be wrong with her?! I tried to reach for my phone to call 911, but the impact had thrown it somewhere into the crushed metal of the floorboards. Fighting through the agonizing pain, I looked down. A jagged piece of the crushed door frame was pinning my thigh. It had sliced deeply into my femoral artery. Bright red blood, along with my life, was rapidly draining away. My vision began to swim with black spots from the catastrophic blood loss. I used both hands to desperately compress the wound, praying the paramedics would arrive in time. However, when the emergency sirens finally wailed and the first responders rushed to the vehicle, Liam leaned out his broken window and screamed frantically: “The person in the back seat is fine! Ignore her! Save the woman in the passenger seat first! Hurry!” My hands, slick with my own blood, froze. Liam’s words felt like a serrated hunting knife being slowly driven into my chest. He knew damn well I was bleeding out, yet he didn’t even care to maintain his “amnesia” act anymore! In the passenger seat, Audrey was screaming hysterically, claiming she was in agonizing pain, demanding the firefighters use the Jaws of Life to pry her door open first. Liam was sobbing in panic, ignoring his own fractured arm to wrap his body protectively around Audrey. Seeing the bizarre scene, the firefighters simply walked around to the back, used their hydraulic cutters to peel the crushed metal off me, and carefully extracted me from the wreckage. They listened to Liam’s frantic screaming with completely deadpan expressions. “You two have the energy to scream and shout. It means your airways are clear and your lives are not in immediate danger.” “I understand you want to save your lover, but we are not going to let a critically injured woman bleed to death in the back seat!” It turned out that even complete strangers could instantly recognize the true nature of their relationship. In my past life, how incredibly, pathetically blind must I have been to trust Liam so completely that I never suspected a thing? When I finally regained consciousness, I was lying in a VIP hospital suite. Carter and Mason were standing by my bed, whispering intensely to each other. “The old man doesn’t know about this yet. If Mr. Vance finds out Liam got Chloe into a nearly fatal car crash, we are completely fucked.” “Don’t panic. Liam is currently donating blood to Audrey.” “When Chloe wakes up, we’ll just convince her to tell her dad that she was the one driving.” “That way, not only are we off the hook, but we can extort a massive ‘hush money’ payout from her to cover Audrey’s tuition for her study abroad program in Paris.” My entire body was screaming in physical agony, and my heart was breaking all over again. Right at that moment, Liam burst into the hospital room, looking frantic. “Is she still unconscious?! Quick, while she’s out, pump her full of anesthesia! The doctors need to graft the skin from her face to repair Audrey’s burns!” Carter and Mason looked horrified. “What happened to Audrey?! Why does she need a skin graft?!” “I couldn’t get into the trauma bay, but I heard her crying! She said the skin on her chest was ruined and required immediate grafting!” “Since it’s for Audrey, we need to move fast.” “I’ve forged Chloe’s signature on legal documents before. I’ll sign the consent forms. You guys hold her down and force this liquid sedative down her throat.” Hearing their psychotic, cannibalistic plotting, my blood ran colder than liquid nitrogen. I violently forced my eyes open and lunged for the emergency nurse call button. Liam reacted faster than I did. He blurred across the room, pinning my hand to the mattress, his face twisted into a demonic, terrifying snarl. “Chloe! Audrey cares about her physical beauty more than anything in the world! You owe her your life, so you HAVE to do this for her!” Carter quickly grabbed a pen and flawlessly forged my signature on the surgical consent form. Mason grabbed a cup of milk heavily laced with liquid sedatives, completely ignoring my injuries, and aggressively tried to pry my jaw open to pour it down my throat. “Chloe, why the hell did you have to wake up right now?!” “Just be a good girl and be an organ donor for Audrey! It’s not that hard!” I thrashed wildly, trying to fight them off, but my body was covered in casts and sutures. I couldn’t move an inch. Their eyes were completely dead, devoid of human empathy. They forcefully pinched my nose to force my mouth open, ready to pour the drugs in. My brain was getting foggy from the lack of oxygen. My consciousness began to slip. Right at that exact, terrifying second… the heavy oak door to the VIP suite was violently kicked open with a deafening CRASH.

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I was the youngest in my family, but I might as well have been invisible. Ever since I was born, I lived under the crushing shadows of my older siblings. Inferiority, isolation, and mediocrity—those were the words that defined me. The wildest thing I ever did was leverage my family’s power to force Ben Harper, a broke, struggling guy, into an exclusive relationship contract when he was at his absolute lowest. For the next four years, subject to his daily cold shoulder and silent treatment, I finally had to face the facts: he didn’t love me. He never would. But I was stubborn just that one time. Even though it was agony, I refused to let go. Until one day, a disease began to eat away at my memories. I started to forget. I forgot the day I first met Ben. Instead, I found myself remembering a young man wearing a hearing aid, looking at me with intense, obsessive eyes, saying, “You have to promise to love me forever. Promise me.” Chapter 1 “You’re not wearing your ring today.” Ben was at the dining table. He was cold, elegant, and those were the first words he’d spoken all morning. I froze, then glanced down at my own hand. There was a faint, pale mark at the base of my finger from years of wearing that band without fail. But today, the ring was gone. “I must have taken it off to wash the vegetables and forgot to put it back on.” I subconsciously tried to twist the ring, but my thumb only met warm, soft skin. I paused, then continued, “I’ll go get it.” I started to push my chair back, intending to go to the kitchen. “Forget it. It’s not like it matters.” Ben spoke indifferently, keeping his eyes lowered as he continued to eat. I stopped dead in my tracks. His words triggered a rush of memories. I had spent forty-three days designing that matching set myself. And now, it didn’t matter? My eyes drifted to his hand. He was wearing a ring, all right. But it was a completely different one. “I’ve fulfilled our arrangement for this month,” Ben said suddenly. “Five days, as agreed. I won’t be back for the rest of the month. He’ll get angry if I do.” I turned my head away, recoiling from his words. “I need to find my ring first,” I said stubbornly. He didn’t argue. He just sat there, face devoid of emotion, watching me like I was putting on a pathetic, low-rent play. His eyes seemed to say: Are you done yet? I suddenly remembered his reaction years ago, when I had practically done a magic trick to pull these two rings out in front of him. He hadn’t been this cold back then. He had tried to act calm, but the tips of his ears were burning red. When I slid the band onto his finger, I could feel his fingertips trembling slightly. Back then, I really believed he loved me too. I thought that was why, out of everyone in high society, he had chosen me—the girl hiding in the shadows. But I found out later it was all a terrible misunderstanding. His love was never meant for me. My shoulders slumped. Suddenly, the whole charade felt utterly meaningless. So, I sat back down in silence and lowered my head to eat my own breakfast. “I’m done.” He wolfed down a few more bites, set his fork down with a frustrated clatter, and stood up. “I’m leaving now.” “Today isn’t over yet,” I said softly. “What?” I sighed. “Just keep me company for a little while this afternoon. I have to go to the hospital.” Chapter 2 Ever since I threatened him into signing that relationship contract, things between us had gone downhill fast. In the beginning, he would still speak a few sentences to me. But later, he only ever looked at me with exhaustion. Our communication dwindled to almost nothing under his deliberate avoidance. I was the one holding on for dear life, forcing this tiny bit of fate to keep us connected. For a long time now, the thorns of this relationship had grown so deep into my flesh that I couldn’t distinguish between my own physical sensations and the emotional pain he inflicted on me. But either way, it proved I was still alive. It had been a long time since I had asked him to stay. He looked genuinely stunned. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. He sat back down at the table, eyeing me with suspicion. “I’ve been getting these sharp, splitting headaches lately,” I said offhandedly. Honestly, that wasn’t the worst of it. I was becoming terribly forgetful. I would lose track of things constantly, only for the memory to slam back into me hours later. Sometimes, I forgot what I could and couldn’t eat. I’d eat something, then immediately throw it up. It was getting bad enough that I really had to get it checked out. Ben was silent for a moment. Then, he said, “Fine. I’ll go with you this afternoon.” “Thank you.” I offered him a calm smile. My voice was steady. There was no trace of the hysterical person I used to be. He lowered his eyes and turned his face away. A muffled “Okay” escaped him. The sunlight hit his face just right. He was still agonizingly handsome. “Did you… tell your family about this?” he asked. I shook my head. “There’s nothing to tell.” “You know, they actually care about you. Families should be able to get past things.” He was using that earnest, lecturing tone again. A small, genuine smile touched his lips. I knew who he was thinking about. When someone thinks about the person they truly love, their eyes light up, and their whole expression softens. He was thinking of Liam, my older brother. Liam was adopted, yet my mother had showered him with all the love she had strictly withheld from me. I watched Ben quietly. For the first time, I didn’t argue back. Chapter 3 He drove me to the hospital. I pulled open the passenger door and was about to get in, but Ben stopped me. “Sit in the back.” Short and to the point. There was a tiny sticky note on the passenger side dashboard. Written on it was: Liam’s exclusive seat. Ovo. I understood completely. But my face still burned with shame. I was the one Ben was in an arrangement with. But in moments like this, I felt like the “other woman.” The intense wave of emotion made my head feel like it was splitting open. It felt as though something was stirring inside my brain, peeling layers away. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead. The world spun violently, and I couldn’t keep my balance. Subconsciously, I reached out to grab the edge of the car seat to steady myself. Ben’s expression changed instantly. He slapped my hand away and snapped, “I told you to sit in the back! Are you deaf?!” Without support, I stumbled and nearly fell to the ground. It was only then that Ben realized something was really wrong with me. Instinctively, he stepped forward to help, but he forced himself to stop after two paces. He stood there, keeping his hands to himself. “Are you okay?” he asked coldly. He knew the answer, yet he asked anyway. Back when we were younger, if I so much as scraped my knee, this same man would get terrified and fuss over bandaging me up. Now, he just stood there like a stranger. Time really does change people. I fought through the excruciating pain and shook my head. “I’m fine.” I climbed into the back seat, all on my own. I felt something slipping away. I tried desperately to grab hold of that thought, to remember what it was. But I couldn’t. Chapter 4 He drove smoothly. He glanced at me in the rearview mirror a few times, mouth opening as if to say something, but he never did. I didn’t speak either. I just stared out the window. Suddenly. He pulled the car over halfway to the hospital. “Hey, Liam.” Ben’s voice became instantly tender, loud and clear in my ears. “What! Is it serious? How were you that careless?” His voice spiked with panic. “I’m coming right now. Stay right there, don’t move—” His eyes landed on me in the mirror, and the words died in his throat. Hesitation and guilt flashed in his eyes. I remained silent. After a moment, I let out a soft sigh. If I’d known, I would have just taken an Uber. Even as I thought that, I didn’t move. I just looked at him. I wanted to see if he would actually kick me out of the car. Was it resentment? Bitterness? I honestly couldn’t tell anymore. “I’m sorry, Chloe,” he said finally. “Something happened with Liam. I have to go to him. You… you need to call a cab. After your checkup, I’ll come pick you up.” He must have assumed I would cause a scene because his expression was tense as he turned around. He used a very serious, almost pleading tone to reason with me. I nodded. I didn’t say another word. I just got out of the car in silence. He looked stunned. It seemed my easy compliance shocked him. Ben opened his mouth, his eyes shifting nervously, before finally saying, “I promise I’ll pick you up after your appointment.” He was giving me his word. My head hurt worse. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him. I lowered my head and opened an app to hail a ride. There wasn’t much traffic around here; it might take a while to get a driver. Seeing that I wouldn’t speak to him, Ben wanted to say something else, but ultimately decided to remain silent. He started the car and drove away. Chapter 5 A tearing pain woke me up. My eyes snapped open. The chaotic dream I was having was terrifying. I gasped for air, wiping cold sweat from my forehead. “It shouldn’t be too serious… try to keep emotions stable…” I heard a doctor speaking nearby. I squinted my eyes toward the doorway. A tall, lean young man was leaning in slightly, listening intently to the doctor’s instructions. He had messy black hair and beautiful dark eyes. He looked very young, like a high school kid. There was a hearing aid behind his ear, so it seemed he had some auditory issues. His clothes were faded from too many washes, but they were spotlessly clean. He looked like someone from a poor background who nonetheless faced life with dignity. And his face… I really liked it. “I understand. Thank you, Doctor.” The young man turned his head and locked eyes with me as I studied him. Joy sparked in his eyes, and he quickly walked over to me. “You’re awake!” Oh, right. I remembered now. I had fainted in the middle of the street for some reason. I tried hard to remember why. Nothing came to mind, so I gave up. My last memory before waking up was this young man’s face. It looked like he was the one who had brought me to the hospital. “My hero!” I grabbed his hand in gratitude. He jumped, startled. His pale skin instantly blushed a deep pink in a matter of seconds. Because he was nervous, his cadence changed slightly. “I… was just passing by. Don’t be scared. Your bill is paid.” “Thank you. My name is Chloe. Let me add you on social media so I can Venmo you back.” I said. The guy pursed his lips awkwardly. He tried to gently pull his hand back, but I didn’t let go. When he lifted his eyes and saw me staring at him intensely, he immediately lowered his head again. His body was stiff, and his long eyelashes trembled like butterflies. He looked incredibly embarrassed. “Pl-please speak a little slower. I can’t quite hear…” He pointed to the hearing aid behind his ear and mumbled, “I’m sorry.” He was apologizing to me. That caught me off guard. “It’s fine, it’s fine.” I couldn’t help but laugh softly. I shook my head, slowed down my speech significantly, pointed to my phone, and repeated everything I had just said. “Chloe.” He repeated my name, pronouncing the syllables carefully. Then he smiled, his eyes crinkling. His voice was cool and pleasant. “My name is Noah Sterling. Don’t worry about the money. You… you looked so sad when I found you. I just want you to be happy.” Noah was speaking to a total stranger with absolute sincerity. For reasons I didn’t understand, a lump formed in my throat. Tears rolled down my face. While Noah panicked, I just sat there, expressionless, crying my eyes out. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’ll be fine in a minute.” He didn’t speak. He just handed me a tissue. Then, he stayed by my side in silence. Chapter 6 The doctors said it was a physical manifestation of psychological trauma. Because I had suffered a severe emotional shock, my body had activated a defense mechanism. They couldn’t say if I would recover my memories, or when. I rested my chin on my hand, listening to them with absolute boredom. I felt perfectly fine. I ran through my memories—aside from a few specific, clear blanks, most of it seemed normal. It was obvious that the missing pieces wouldn’t affect my ability to speak or function. I glanced at Noah. He was listening intensely to the doctor, even taking notes on a small pad he carried. “I’ve got to say, son,” the doctor teased with a smile, “your boyfriend cares more about your body than you do.” I lowered my head, feeling guilty. Noah said embarrassedly, “She… Chloe is… precious. Cute. I’ll remember for her.” Me: “…” Even though my memory was a bit spotty. My actual height was hardwired into my DNA. I was 6’0″. I wasn’t a bodybuilder by any means, and I was shorter than Noah, sure. But “cute”? I don’t think I quite fit that description. The doctor understood and dropped the subject. … They prescribed some meds, and once they confirmed my vitals were fine, I was discharged. “Are… are you going home?” Noah and I walked out of the hospital together. I nodded, then pulled out my phone to search for hotels nearby. “Yeah, eventually. I don’t remember where I live.” I didn’t want to go to my parents’ house. My subconscious told me that if I went back there, I’d face constant triggers. Spending a week there would probably result in my brain rebooting to a toddler’s level. “Let me add your contact info so I can pay you back,” I said. It was about sixty bucks. I wasn’t about to stiff a nice guy like him. Noah pursed his lips stubbornly and started walking ahead with his head down. “I have to pay you back,” I insisted. He was tall with long legs, and within a few steps, he had left me behind. I quickly hurried forward and grabbed the edge of his jacket. “Noah!” He stopped. When Noah looked down at me, his eyelashes were lowered pitifully, making him look exactly like a large dog getting scolded. I rubbed my temples in frustration. “First things first, I’m paying you back.” He pointed to his ear, looking utterly blank. I looked at his ear. Well, look at that. He wasn’t wearing his hearing aid. He had manually turned off his receivers. “I can’t hear you,” Noah said righteously. Me: “…” “Chloe.” A voice that was both familiar and strange sounded right next to me. I frowned and looked over. It was two men. I recognized one, but not the other. The one I recognized was my “brother” by marriage, Liam. It was because of him that I had suffered quite a bit at home. Though, now that I really thought about it, most of those memories were hazy around the edges, not quite sharp. The pain associated with them seemed distant. The other guy was a handsome fellow with a furious expression whom I didn’t know at all. But the second I looked at him, my heart twisted with a tangible, physical ache. So strange. Why did seeing them make me so unhappy? Seeing that they had spotted me. I used my very poor acting skills to pretend I hadn’t noticed them. I turned around, grabbed Noah’s hand, and tried to make a quick escape from this trouble spot. “Chloe! Where do you think you’re going?!” I didn’t expect the angry, handsome stranger to pursue us so relentlessly. He cut us off, blocking our path. Noah realized something was wrong. He put his hearing aid back in and stepped in front of me to shield me. “Who is this? You let this—” The man scrutinized Noah with a look that made me furious. He grit his teeth and spat, “You let a deaf kid be your companion at the hospital? Did the doctor have to learn sign language to talk to him?”

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“Excuse me, Ms. Harper, Mr. Sterling. Your replacement marriage certificate is ready.” I froze in the middle of the County Clerk’s office. The man’s name was the exact same as my husband’s, and the woman’s name sounded strangely familiar. The clerk walked over to me, opened the marriage certificate, and pointed to the couple’s photo inside. “Ma’am, have you seen this woman?” Two intensely familiar faces stared back at me. The man in the photo was my “husband,” Arthur Sterling. The woman was his college sweetheart, Chloe Harper. Right at that moment, a tall, stunning woman walked up to us and smoothly took the certificate from the clerk’s hand. “I’m so sorry, I just had to run to the restroom.” The woman then reached out to take the other copy from my hand, but my fingers locked around it. She offered a calm, polite smile. “Ma’am? Could you let go, please?” Only when the clerk gently reminded me did I finally snap out of my daze. I handed the certificate to the woman, forcing a smile onto my face. “You two make a beautiful couple.” “Thank you,” the woman said softly, turning and walking away. I stared at her back, my mind a chaotic mess. The clerk waved a hand in front of my face. “Ma’am? Are you alright?” I answered automatically, “The man in that photo doesn’t just look exactly like my husband. They have the exact same name.” “Pfft!” The clerk burst out laughing at my response. “Ma’am, the husband of the woman who just left is the CEO of the Sterling Group. He’s on the news all the time. Don’t tell me you don’t know who he is?” How could I not know the Sterling Group? How could I not know Arthur Sterling was its CEO? The clerk seemed to have found her favorite topic of gossip. “Those two big shots actually had a pretty rocky love story. Rumor has it they dated for years, even survived a long-distance relationship while she was studying abroad.” “Ms. Harper went to the UK for her master’s for four years, and Mr. Sterling waited for her that entire time.” “They finally tied the knot two years ago. I was actually the one who processed their marriage license.” “I heard that on the day they got their license, Mr. Sterling even launched a brand-new subsidiary company just to give to Ms. Harper as a wedding gift~” I was completely paralyzed. Arthur waited for Chloe for four years, and they got married two years ago. Then what the hell was I? I got my marriage certificate with Arthur three years ago. The Sterling Group was the empire Arthur and I built together from the ground up. When we got married three years ago, to prove my love and absolute trust in him, I transferred all of my shares in the company into his name. That was the only reason he reached the level of success he had today. How is it that I accompanied my best friend to the County Clerk’s office today, only to discover my husband is legally married to someone else, and my company has absolutely nothing to do with me anymore? I didn’t even know he had launched a subsidiary company… After the clerk walked away, I stared blankly at the ceiling. I don’t know how much time passed before my best friend, Mia, walked over with her new husband, hand in hand. They were beaming with happiness, holding their fresh marriage certificate. “Babe, thank you so much for taking time off work to be our witness today! Dinner tonight is on us. We’re going somewhere fancy!” “Let’s do it another time. I have a client dinner tonight.” I didn’t want to ruin their perfect day, so I forced a smile. They knew I was always incredibly busy, so they didn’t push it. After reminding me a dozen times that I had to be at the wedding, we went our separate ways. My mind was a hornet’s nest of anxiety. I wanted to storm into Arthur’s office right that second and demand an explanation. I had absolutely no focus left for work, so I just went straight home. Today was Tuesday. It was the one day a week Arthur actually came home. Yes. Even though we were “married,” his time only belonged to me on Tuesday nights. He always said he was busy, that his workload as a CEO was crushing. I used to complain about it, but every time I did, he would tell me that we were still young. That we needed to grind and build our empire now, so we could enjoy the rest of our lives later. Just like every other Tuesday, I cooked a massive, elaborate dinner and texted a photo of it to Arthur. “Waiting for you to come home for dinner.” The moment the text delivered, he called me. To the outside world, he was an aloof, untouchable executive. But with me, his voice was always filled with warmth. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I have a crucial client dinner tonight that I can’t get out of. Don’t wait up for me.” My throat felt incredibly tight. He was still calling me “baby,” calling me his wife. Could he really have been legally married to another woman for two years? “Baby? Are you there?” Arthur’s voice pulled me back to reality. “It’s fine. No matter how late it is, I’ll wait for you…” He replied softly, “Okay. No matter how late the dinner goes, I promise I’ll come home and sleep next to you…” After hanging up, I looked at the table full of beautiful food and shook my head helplessly. I knew in my heart that his so-called “client dinner” was almost certainly a celebration with Chloe for getting their replacement marriage certificate. … It wasn’t until 2:00 AM that Arthur finally walked through the door. He was still sober, but he looked physically exhausted. A distinct wave of perfume washed over me. It was the exact same scent I had smelled earlier today. On Chloe Harper. He seemed incredibly guilty. He buried his face in my neck, abandoning his usual stoic demeanor, and sounded genuinely apologetic. “I’m so sorry, baby… making you wait up so late…” I tried to keep my voice as steady as possible. “Arthur, you have to be at the office early tomorrow, so I’ll keep this brief.” “I have a new idea. Can we open a new subsidiary company under the Sterling Group umbrella?” The moment I mentioned work, he snapped into CEO mode. “We barely have the bandwidth to manage the main company right now. Why would we open a subsidiary?” I watched his face closely. When I brought up the idea of a subsidiary, his expression didn’t change a single fraction of an inch. I nodded slightly, explaining my reasoning. “I just want to take some of the burden off your shoulders. Once the subsidiary is up and running, your workload on the main operations will be much lighter.” Hearing that, his eyes softened drastically. He pulled me close, leaning his weight against me. “It’s fine. If everything fails, I’ll just become a butcher and support you.” “What?” I was caught off guard by the joke. He pulled a sleek folder out of his briefcase and gently opened it while leaning against my chest. “Look. This is the Vanguard Investment proposal. I finalized it yesterday. It’s a two-hundred-million-dollar deal.” “The capital injection is massive. I want you to personally oversee this project. Let’s put a pin in the subsidiary idea until this deal is fully executed, okay?” Before I could even respond, he kissed me deeply. “Baby, time is money, and we only get one night a week. I need you…” I closed my eyes, enduring his kiss. The desperate hunger he was showing… was it all just an act? When I woke up the next morning, he was already gone. He was notoriously disciplined; he absolutely had to be at his desk before 8:00 AM every single day. He had left the Vanguard investment portfolio on the coffee table, along with a sticky note. “Baby, head out today. The Vanguard headquarters is in Seattle. It’s not too far…” “You can fly home every Tuesday. That’s my selfish request.” This perfectly curated sweetness… contrasting it with everything I had learned yesterday made it feel horrifyingly surreal. Refusing to believe it without seeing it with my own eyes again, I took our marriage certificate and went back to the County Clerk’s office. When I walked out of those doors, the anxiety that had been keeping me suspended in mid-air finally plummeted, shattering on the concrete. The clerk confirmed it directly to me. Our marriage certificate was a fraudulent document. Arthur Sterling was legally married, and his spouse was Chloe Harper. Walking past a street corner, I tore our fake marriage certificate into a hundred tiny pieces like a madwoman, throwing them into the air like confetti. Watching the pieces drift down over my head, scenes from the past flashed vividly in my mind. Arthur and I met in the winter six years ago. Doing the math, that was exactly the year Chloe left the country to study abroad. Back then, I was a Senior Advertising Director at a major agency, and he was a fresh graduate hired onto my team. At the end of that year, the agency underwent massive layoffs, cutting our entire department. At our farewell dinner, fueled by liquid courage, I announced I was starting my own agency and asked if anyone wanted to join me. Most of them laughed it off, politely declining with various excuses. But Arthur… Arthur looked me dead in the eye and said he believed in me, and he stayed to help me build the business from the ground up. We huddled together through the freezing startup winter, and gradually, we fell in love. With that bond, we poured our blood, sweat, and tears into the company. It finally took off, and we achieved the life we had always dreamed of. Regarding Chloe, Arthur never tried to hide her existence initially. He told me straightforwardly that his college sweetheart was named Chloe, and that after graduation, forced to choose between him and a master’s degree in London, she chose London. One night, completely drunk, he told me he hated her. He hated her because she threw him away without a second thought to chase her own ambitions. It wasn’t until today that I finally understood. Arthur’s hatred for Chloe instantly reverted back to love the exact second she stepped off that plane back in America. To accommodate that, he meticulously planned ahead, tricking me with a fake marriage certificate. To Arthur, I was his business partner. Chloe was the only woman who ever truly held his heart. The reason he was going to such extreme lengths to hide it from me now was probably because he felt a sense of gratitude toward me and didn’t have the heart to crush me. Thinking back on everything we had been through, a bitter resentment gnawed at my soul. I loved too deeply. He lied to me, yes, but I refused to believe that he hadn’t felt a single genuine spark for me over the last six years. I didn’t fly to Seattle to negotiate the Vanguard deal. Instead, I drove straight to the subsidiary company Arthur had launched—the Harper-Sterling Group. In the sleek glass conference room of the Harper-Sterling Group, Chloe and I sat across from each other. Faced with my direct confrontation, she openly and graciously admitted she had known about me the entire time. Even yesterday at the County Clerk’s office, she knew exactly who I was. Because she was Arthur’s actual, legal wife, she spoke to me with the casual superiority of someone holding all the cards. “Anna, right? Arthur actually mentioned you to me, and he explained the dynamic between you two.” “While I understand why he did it, I also want to thank you. You’re the one who elevated Arthur to the level of success he has today.” “But gratitude doesn’t mean I’m going to step aside. I made the wrong choice six years ago, and I am absolutely not letting him go this time.” Arthur had told her about me, and she was completely fine with the arrangement. And me? From beginning to end, I was played for an absolute fool, and Arthur never told me a single shred of the truth. My chest tightened with a sour ache, but I pulled a legal document from my briefcase. “This is a stock transfer agreement for this subsidiary.” “If you sign this, the Harper-Sterling Group will be entirely severed from the main Sterling Group conglomerate. From this day forward, this company is 100% yours.” “I only have one condition. Leave him. Give him back to me.” “You still don’t understand the dynamic between the three of us.” “The woman he truly loves is me. He just doesn’t have the heart to destroy his former benefactor.” Chloe’s words were calculated to inflict maximum damage. Her expression suddenly hardened. “Anna, our relationship will not be swayed by any external factors anymore!” “Even if it means losing absolutely everything, I am going to be with Arthur!” And just like that, two women were deadlocked in a corporate boardroom, fighting over one man. A few moments later, the tension on Chloe’s face broke into a subtle, chilling smile. “Tell you what. Let’s let Arthur choose between us himself.” “The one who gets left behind has to walk away and never interfere again. Deal?” I frowned, narrowing my eyes. “What exactly do you mean?” Chloe leaned across the table, whispering her psychotic plan into my ear… As the sun began to set, Arthur received an anonymous video message. In the video, Chloe and I were both tied to wooden chairs. The camera panned, revealing a figure wearing a ski mask. “CEO of the Sterling Group, Arthur Sterling. These two women are supposedly the most important people in your world.” “If you don’t want anything bad to happen to them, liquidate every liquid asset you have and bring the cash to the roof of the abandoned development project in the West Ward!” “Come alone. If you call the cops, I swear to God they die first!” Two hours later, Arthur actually showed up alone on the roof of the abandoned high-rise. He first looked at Chloe, his eyes full of agonizing heartbreak, then he looked at me, his gaze heavy and unreadable. Finally, he turned to the masked man, pulling a sleek black titanium card from his jacket pocket. “Everything you asked for is on this card. Let them go.” The kidnapper verified the funds on a tablet, his voice laced with mocking approval. “Mr. Sterling is a man of his word. But I think I want to play a little game today.” “You can only take one of these women with you. The other one gets pushed off this roof. You choose.” Arthur erupted in fury. “I am taking both of them!” The kidnapper didn’t say a word. He just grabbed the backs of our chairs with his massive arms and began dragging us toward the unprotected edge of the ten-story drop. “If you don’t choose, I’ll throw both of them off right now!” Arthur panicked. A raw, unprecedented terror took over him. He ground his teeth together audibly. “Wait!” “So… only one of them survives today. Is that the deal?” The kidnapper didn’t answer verbally, just gave a slow, deliberate nod. At the very last possible second, Arthur raised a shaking hand and pointed at Chloe. “I… I choose her!” Chloe shot me a subtle, sideways glance. A victorious smile bloomed across her face. I sat there, gasping for air like a fish thrown onto dry land, staring blankly at the scene unfolding in front of me. I stared dead into Arthur’s eyes, screaming at the top of my lungs, demanding to know why. But Arthur, perhaps consumed by guilt, didn’t dare look at me for even a fraction of a second. After the kidnapper untied Chloe, the two of them practically ran for the stairwell. The kidnapper pulled off his ski mask, then walked over and untied the ropes binding me. He let out a mocking scoff. “Ms. Anna, you lost.” “According to your agreement with our CEO, Ms. Harper, you are never to appear in front of Mr. Sterling again.” I nodded slowly, a look of absolute, hollow despair settling onto my face as I managed a weak smile. “Don’t worry. I’m a woman of my word.” I sat alone on the roof of the abandoned building for a very long time. Finally, I pulled out my phone and dialed a highly secure number. “It’s… it’s over between us. From today on… he no longer needs my protection…” “I want to treat this all like a bad dream. I want to destroy every single thing tying us together. Starting with the Sterling Group…” It was time for me to go. Arthur chose Chloe. I bet, and I lost fair and square. He abandoned me. So he can abandon the empire I built for him, too.

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