Category: English

1 I was the wife that Arthur Sterling stole. He played dirty and snatched me right out of his best friend’s hands. Because he was the “other man” who clawed his way to the top, he was obsessively paranoid about every single guy who came near me. Even when I fed a stray dog in the park, he had to verify that both the dog and its owner were female before he could relax. That was, until recently. A new male intern started at my office and brought me coffee for a few days. Arthur said he didn’t mind, but that night, he stayed up until 3:00 AM scrolling through my phone. He was so angry he broke out in a full-body rash. On the way to the hospital, his face flushed and burning with a fever, he shoved a picture of the intern right in my face. “Those pecs are obviously Photoshopped!” “Look at his height—he’s definitely wearing shoe lifts! There is no way he is six feet tall!” Ignoring the ER doctors who were desperately trying to hold back their laughter, I awkwardly pinched his mouth shut and shoved him into a triage bed. While I was waiting at the pharmacy to pick up his meds, the doctor casually mentioned: “If you guys are trying to prevent pregnancy, we still recommend the woman takes birth control, or just use condoms. Since this male contraceptive pill just hit the market, the side effects are severe. Breaking out in a rash is actually on the milder end.” “Plus, he took three doses in a single week. I know he doesn’t want you to suffer the side effects, but he can’t just play with his life like that.” I froze. But I’m already three months pregnant. … Watching Arthur sleep soundly in the hospital bed, I picked up his phone. His passcode was my birthday. His Instagram feed was filled exclusively with photos of me. His search history was entirely about me: “How to get my wife’s attention?” “My wife thinks I’m too clingy, is she cheating on me?” “What to do when my wife misses her late mother?” Even his Notes app was packed with details about me: “March 20th: My sweet girl had a nightmare and missed her mom.” “March 21st: My sweet girl’s morning sickness is brutal. She throws up everything she eats.” “April 1st: Tracked down my wife’s old nanny to learn how to make my mother-in-law’s signature beef and tomato stew. My sweet girl ate a lot today.” Reading all this, my eyes began to sting. I tried to comfort myself, thinking maybe my pregnancy hormones were just making me overly sensitive. Until his GPS app suddenly pushed a notification to the lock screen: “Based on your usual routine, a route home has been generated. Estimated travel time: 30 minutes.” The destination was The Pinnacle Condos, Building 7. But I live in Building 3. My hand moved on its own, tapping the notification. The navigation history showed that for the past three months, every single day at noon, he reliably routed to this address and stayed there for about two hours. I suddenly remembered something. Because my morning sickness was so severe, I had lost eight pounds in just three months. I could only keep down food that Arthur cooked himself. But his corporate office was far away. Not only did he have to take care of me every day, but he also had to deal with the ruthless board of directors at his company. Working overtime until midnight was his norm. I felt bad for him. I wanted him to rest at the office during his lunch break. But he thought I was rejecting him, that I didn’t need him anymore. We had a massive fight. No matter what I said, he stubbornly kept a cold face and insisted on driving home to cook lunch for me. It wasn’t until I pretended my morning sickness had improved and swore I would eat properly that he finally agreed to stay at the office to rest. But the reality was, every single day, he was in another building less than a thousand feet from my house, keeping someone else company. I gripped the phone, my entire body shaking. Suddenly, a text message popped up on the screen: “Artie, you left your underwear at my place yesterday. She didn’t find out, did she? I specifically saved that pair for you. It’s unwashed.” “That’s my favorite pair of underwear. You have to bring it back to me on my birthday.” I stared dead at the profile picture. With trembling fingers, I tapped into the chat. It was Chloe! The illegitimate daughter who gave my mother a heart attack and stole my father. Since we were kids, she tried to steal everything from me. My clothes, my jewelry, my father’s love. And even my husbands. The only reason I divorced my ex-husband was because I caught him and Chloe in bed together. The day my divorce was finalized, I was completely shattered, drained of all hope. Arthur had held me tightly, promising me word for word: “My sweet girl, I will only ever love you in this lifetime. No matter what stunts she tries to pull, I will never give her a second glance. Trust me.” And he really did back it up. When Chloe tried to seduce him and sent him nudes, he immediately called the cops and had her locked up for seven days for harassment. He even forwarded the police report to her university, getting her expelled and ruining her future. I thought escaping that toxic swamp and meeting Arthur was the greatest blessing of my life. But why did it have to be her? Why is it always her?! With a masochistic urge, I scrolled through their chat history. I watched Arthur call her “his sweet girl.” I read how, when Chloe threatened to expose everything to me, Arthur ruthlessly blocked her, then “punished” her—punished her right into bed. I read about how, on the day I was hospitalized crying in fear because of a bad prenatal screening, they were sleeping in the guest room I had personally decorated, and she was wearing my pajamas… My body shook violently. A wave of pure nausea rushed up my throat. Behind me, the hospital bed shifted slightly. “Wifey?” 2 Seeing my red, tear-filled eyes, Arthur immediately reached out to hug me. But the moment he got close, I smelled the faint, unmistakable scent of sex on him. I violently shoved him away and sprinted into the bathroom, dry heaving over the sink. “My sweet girl!” Arthur instantly followed me in. The second his hand touched my back, I recoiled like I had been burned. I grabbed a heavy glass jar from the counter and hurled it at him. “Get the hell away from me!” The heavy glass ashtray clipped his temple. Blood immediately began pouring down his brow bone. But Arthur didn’t seem to care at all. He just looked at me with deep concern, the panic in his eyes practically spilling over. “Is the baby kicking up a fuss again?” “Or does something else hurt?” I sat on the bathroom floor, watching him frantically rush out of the room. He poured a glass of warm water, grabbed my prenatal vitamins, and rushed back in. Blood dripped onto the crisp collar of his white dress shirt, blooming into a small red stain. He was completely oblivious to it. He just held the pills out to me, his eyes cautious and incredibly gentle. “Open up, sweet girl.” “Why?” I looked into Arthur’s eyes, so full of love. The tears fell uncontrollably. Just a few days ago, we were lying in bed picking out baby names. We were imagining our future as a family of three. We talked about how, when she grew up a little, we’d take her to the beach, to the mountains, to every place we had ever visited since we fell in love. Just hours ago, he was throwing a jealous fit because I was standing too close to another man. “Why did you betray me?!” I stared at him, my vision completely blurred by tears. Arthur froze. The hand holding the pills clenched into a tight fist. “You know.” I waited for his explanation. I told myself that no matter what he said, I would believe him. As long as he just gave me an excuse, I could forgive him. “I’m sorry.” He took a step forward, his voice trembling. “I know firing that intern behind your back would upset you, but I just couldn’t handle another man being around you every day, seeing your smile.” He crouched down, looking up at me with a pathetic, lowly gaze. “You don’t know how much effort it took for me to steal you away from Liam. To finally earn the right to stand proudly by your side. Why should some random kid get to have all of that without doing a damn thing?” “I know I’m sick. I know I’m not normal. But I absolutely do not regret it.” “My sweet girl, you can hit me, curse me, punish me however you want. Just don’t hurt yourself, and please don’t leave me. I will literally die.” He looked up at me, his eyes bloodshot, looking exactly like an abandoned puppy. I looked at him, knowing that right now, I should turn around and walk away without a second thought. But I just couldn’t bear to do it. I couldn’t bear to let go of his gentleness. I couldn’t bear to let go of the incredibly happy life we had built. So, as long as I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I could pretend nothing ever happened. As long as I didn’t see it. I looked at Arthur and managed a small smile. “I’m craving beef and tomato stew.” Arthur’s eyes instantly lit up. He turned and practically jogged toward the kitchen. But a moment later, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and his face filled with apology. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. There’s an emergency at the office. I’ll make it for you as soon as I get back.” Before I could even respond, he was out the door. I grabbed my car keys and followed him. The Pinnacle Condos, Building 7. I stood in the shadow of a large oak tree, watching Chloe loop her arm intimately through his as they walked through the lobby doors. The moment the door closed, I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. Through the massive floor-to-ceiling window of the ground-floor condo, I saw him immediately stand up, acting like he was going to walk outside to take the call. And then, Chloe stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. Through the phone, I heard the sticky, wet sound of a kiss, followed by his heavy breathing. I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning white. “Arthur. My stomach hurts.” Hearing those words, Arthur violently shoved Chloe away, grabbed his jacket, and headed straight for the door. “Don’t be scared, sweet girl. I’ll be right there.” Suddenly, a muffled groan came through the phone. Chloe crouched down on the floor. Immediately after, the call was disconnected. Ten seconds later, a text popped up. “Sweet girl, there’s an emergency board meeting. I have to be there. I already called your doctor, he’s on his way to the house. Don’t be scared.” I looked up. Through that window, I watched him scoop Chloe up into his arms and carry her toward the bedroom. My heart finally died completely. I pulled up my phone and dialed the hospital. “Hello, I need to schedule an abortion.” 3 I was just about to pull out of the parking spot when I saw a man standing right in front of my car. It was my father. We stared at each other in silence for a long time. Then, I followed him back into the house I had lived in for eighteen years. The living room was the same living room, but everything else was completely different. The wall that used to hold photos of me and my mom was now entirely covered in pictures of Chloe and her mother. My mom’s favorite begonias had been replaced by sickeningly sweet roses. I stood in the center of the living room, feeling like a stranger in a strange land. My dad pointed to the sofa. The second I sat down, he cut straight to the chase. “Leave Arthur.” “I refuse. Arthur is the one who can’t leave me.” Once, when I found out he had added Chloe on WhatsApp, I felt so betrayed I packed my bags to leave. He blocked the front door. Without saying a single word, he grabbed a fruit knife from the coffee table and plunged it directly into his own stomach. Blood poured out, but he didn’t take a single step back. He just stared at me. “If you want to leave, you’ll have to step over my dead body.” My dad didn’t argue. He just gave me a look of profound pity. Then, he pointed to the wall next to the staircase. It was a massive photo gallery. It was entirely filled with pictures of Chloe and Arthur. Cuddling on a gondola in Venice. Holding hands under the cherry blossoms at Mount Fuji. Kissing passionately under the Eiffel Tower. “He didn’t go on a business trip last week. He took Chloe on a trip around the world.” My dad stood up, walked over to the gallery wall, and pointed at the massive framed photo dead center. “They got their marriage license overseas. They had a huge wedding and invited everyone.” “Including his parents.” “To get his parents to accept Chloe and attend the wedding, he kneeled outside their front door for seven days straight.” “I seem to recall that absolutely no one attended your wedding with Arthur.” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Arthur’s parents despised me. They believed I seduced their son, slapped him with the label of a homewrecker, and ruined his reputation and his future. So they didn’t show up to our wedding, and they strictly forbade us from ever visiting their estate. But in these photos, they were smiling warmly, happily accepting the traditional tea Chloe was serving them. “I heard you got into a car accident a few days ago?” my dad asked. “I didn’t want Arthur to worry, so I handled it myself. I never told him.” My dad let out a harsh, mocking laugh. “Do you know where he was when that happened?” “He was literally a block away from you, helping Chloe pick out a diamond ring.” A loud, deafening ringing exploded in my ears. “He watched the whole thing. He watched that driver harass you. He watched the guy shove you to the ground. He watched you hide in your car and cry. He watched them bang on your windows and curse at you. He watched you force yourself to hold it together and call the cops.” “And he didn’t move a single muscle. Because Chloe was thirsty, and he was in a rush to go buy her a boba tea.” “I DON’T BELIEVE IT!” I shot up from the sofa, my entire body shaking violently. I refused to believe that the man who would hyperventilate with worry if I got a paper cut would just stand by and watch me get assaulted without doing anything. “These are all lies! You just made this up to force me to leave Arthur!” My dad stared at me in silence. That look terrified me to my core. After a long time, he finally spoke. “Chloe is pregnant.” “They named the baby Julian.” Julian. Youthful and peaceful. Something snapped in my brain. That was the name Arthur and I had spent an entire month brainstorming, flipping through baby name books until the pages were worn out. That was our baby’s name. That name belonged exclusively to my child! “Men understand men better than anyone.” My dad’s voice echoed in the room again. “The only thing keeping him with you right now is a sense of obligation. If you keep doing this, you’re going to end up exactly like your mother.” My mom. When she found out my dad had a mistress, she absolutely refused to sign the divorce papers. So my dad brought the mistress right into our house, making out with her right in front of my mom. Eventually, my mom couldn’t handle the humiliation anymore and killed herself. Will I end up like my mom? Trapped in an endless cycle of breakdowns, insanity, and mutual torture? I didn’t know. I just suddenly felt incredibly, unbearably exhausted. I stopped listening to the man standing in front of me. I pushed the front door open and walked outside. The bright afternoon sun beat down on me, but I couldn’t feel a single ounce of warmth. 4 My phone vibrated violently. It was a barrage of texts from Arthur. “Sweet girl, where are you? Why aren’t you picking up?” “I’m begging you, sweet girl, just reply to me. Let me know where you are!” Only then did I realize that in the past hour alone, Arthur had called me hundreds of times. But my eyes were glued to the text from the clinic, confirming my abortion appointment for tomorrow morning. My hand unconsciously moved to my stomach, trying to feel a heartbeat. I had absolutely nothing left. This was the only thing that still belonged to me. Before I could even process what to do next, a set of blindingly bright headlights swerved aggressively toward me. Blood instantly clouded my vision. Chloe stepped out of the car and crouched down in front of me. “Sarah! Why won’t you just die?!” “Only when you’re dead will Artie truly belong to me! Right now, even when he’s inside me, he’s only thinking about you!” Her face twisted into a demonic, psychotic sneer. She grabbed me by the back of the head and slammed my face brutally into the asphalt. She didn’t stop until my face was completely covered in a thick mask of blood, making me entirely unrecognizable. Then, she pulled out her phone, her voice instantly shifting to panicked terror. “Artie! I hit someone with my car! I’m so scared!” A few minutes later, Arthur’s black SUV skidded to a halt. Chloe threw herself into his arms, trembling like a leaf. “Artie, what do I do? Am I going to prison? I swear I didn’t mean to do it.” Arthur held her tight, whispering softly to comfort her. “It’s okay. I’m here.” He turned and barked an order at his bodyguards. “Pour liquor down her throat. Make it look like a DUI.” The bodyguard glanced down at me. “Boss, she’s pregnant.” Arthur froze, a flash of hesitation crossing his face as he looked down at my bloodied form. “Artie, I’m so scared! If people find out I was the one driving, my life is over! I’d be better off dead!” Chloe melted into his chest, her eyes wide and overflowing with tears. “POUR IT!” Arthur looked down and kissed the top of Chloe’s head. “I will handle the consequences!” Harsh, burning liquor was forced down my throat. The alcohol spilled from my lips, mixing with the blood on my face, and dripped onto the pavement. I felt a rush of warm fluid pooling beneath me, flowing out onto the street. I desperately cried out for help. “Arthur, no. Please.” But my voice was too weak. No one could hear me. However, Arthur suddenly stopped. He stood frozen, looking down hesitantly at my blood-soaked body. “I thought I heard Sarah calling me.” Chloe suddenly clutched her stomach. “Artie, my stomach hurts. The baby is kicking me.” Arthur instantly snapped his attention back to her, sweeping her up into his arms and rushing her to the SUV. Before getting into the driver’s seat, he shot one last look at the bodyguards. “Watch her. Wait until the alcohol fully absorbs into her bloodstream before calling an ambulance.” The car doors slammed shut. I lay there in a pool of my own blood, staring dead at the direction the taillights vanished into. When I woke up again… Arthur was sitting by my hospital bed, gripping my hand tightly. His eyes were bloodshot. “Sarah, how are you feeling?” “Does it hurt anywhere?” Tears poured uncontrollably from his eyes, landing on the back of my hand. “What happened?! The hospital called me out of nowhere and told me you were in a car accident and the baby was gone.” “Who was it?!” Arthur squeezed my hand tighter and tighter, his eyes burning with absolute, murderous rage. “Who hit you?! I’m going to kill them!” “It was you, Arthur.” I looked at the terrified expression on his face, and a wave of dark, twisted satisfaction washed over me. “You told your bodyguards to pour liquor down my throat. You ordered them to delay the ambulance. Congratulations, Arthur! You personally murdered your own child!”

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Before my best friend, Maya, officially returned to her wealthy family after being identified as their long-lost daughter, she sent me a text message with details about my potential match. The guy in the photo had perfect features and was impressive in every aspect. While I was scrutinizing the photo. Maya’s older brother was silently eating breakfast across from me. His expression was indifferent. Every move he made held the icy distance typical of old-money heirs. Maya pressed me online. [Has my brother still not agreed to let you join the family formally? Why is he so harsh on you?] [Just take my place in the arranged marriage. We’ll act now and ask for forgiveness later.] I happened to be placing a bowl of chilled pear soup in front of Caleb Hudson. “Maya mentioned you’ve had a cough recently. This is to soothe your throat.” He didn’t even raise his eyes, pointedly avoiding me. The soup I had spent all morning simmering spilled onto the table. Caleb’s expression was cool. “Miss George, you only have a seat at this table because of Maya.” “Don’t overstep.” Caleb wasn’t wrong. My best friend, whom I grew up with in the orphanage, had been taken home by the Hudson family, transforming from an orphan into a genuine heiress. In the morning, Maya was riding an electric scooter; in the evening, she was driving a Maybach to pick me up. “Elara George, I told you, when I strike it rich, I’m bringing you up with me.” She wanted to adopt me. I playfully cried and called her “Mom.” But she said she wanted to raise me as her sister. My best friend shared her princess-themed room with me and linked a subsidiary card with a seven-figure allowance to my account. She even printed a booklet detailing Caleb’s likes and dislikes to help me join this grand family. Mr. and Mrs. Hudson were rarely home. Maya’s older brother, Caleb Hudson, was the strict gatekeeper of the Hudson family. Even though I played the role of a perfectly obedient sister, Caleb didn’t like me. He even snapped at Maya. “Do you have any idea what her actual intentions are? Ever heard of a femme fatale?” Maya couldn’t help but defend me. “Caleb, I just want her to enter our family, to be our…” Caleb’s face darkened with frustration, and he snapped at her to shut up. Immediately after, he arranged for Maya to go abroad for advanced studies. Only Caleb and I were left at home. Maya sent me daily tips, teaching me how to be a proper sister. I brought him tea in the morning and warm milk at night. Hearing that Caleb liked fish, I was in the kitchen early making it. When he came downstairs and saw me. He told the housekeeper to throw the fish away immediately. “I don’t eat fish with green onions. You want to join this family, but you don’t even pay attention to these details?” “Hypocrite.” Caleb grew increasingly annoyed with me. He couldn’t hold eye contact with me for three seconds. Sometimes, if I stared at him a little longer, Caleb’s ears would turn bright red with fury. Even when we ate together, his face was like thunder. Ding. On the dining table, Maya sent another photo of my potential arranged match. [I don’t want an arranged marriage. I want freedom! Do you want it? You get to be on my family registry.] I typed ‘111’ to agree. Thinking I would soon be Maya’s sister on paper. I would finally have a family. I chuckled to myself while nibbling on my toast. Caleb, across the table, let out a cold snort. “Don’t try flattery or playing the victim with me.” Me: Excuse me? The date with my potential match was set at a Hudson family hotel. Maya said it was a family business, so it was free. The dress for the date was ordered from the brand-name store the Hudson family frequented. Because it was also free. I only rushed over to try on the dress after finishing a full, free spa treatment. I chose the cheapest gown, feeling content already. I hadn’t officially entered Maya’s family yet, so I needed to be economical and proper to be liked. But the sales clerk had already bagged all the other gowns. “Miss Maya Hudson said that as long as you look at a dress, you must like it. She made the choice for you.” “She swiped the internal card directly again. Good luck with your date tonight!” Hugging the clothes, I wished I could fly to Maya’s side and be her loyal servant for life. Then someone stepped into the store. Caleb Hudson had changed into a dark suit, his hair perfectly styled. He tapped his knuckles on the marble counter. His prominent brows slightly furrowed. “Just saw the charge. Thought Maya was back. Why is it you?” “Return all the clothes.” No wonder Maya said it was all free. It turned out she was swiping Caleb’s card behind his back. The clerk quickly explained. “Mr. Hudson, this lady has an important date tonight. These are all perfect for her, chosen by your sister. Do you really want to return them?” I was already a bit scared of this brother, even before formally joining the family. He had constantly shut me out. If not for Maya, I would have left long ago. But my best friend’s brother was also my brother. I clutched the dress, my lips refusing to move. The air grew drier, and my face flushed in agitation. Hearing the word “date,” Caleb’s gaze landed on my face. His lips thinned in a cold snort. “Want to climb the social ladder, but you don’t even know how to hide your ambition.” He inspected the gowns in the bags and only pulled out a dark, tea-length dress. “…I don’t like light colors. You need to be proper and modest. Return all the rest.” I could only agree. “Right, you’re paying, so as long as you like it.” “Thank you, Mr. Hudson.” But Caleb didn’t leave. He gestured for me to change. He was odd today. Staring as I put on the long dress, Caleb was then dissatisfied with my hair. He was going to take me to get it styled. Caleb sat behind the mirror while the stylist assessed his expression, styling my hair. I quietly messaged Maya. [Your brother isn’t as repulsed by me anymore. He even brought me to get my hair done! I’ll change how I address him when you get back. I’ll call him ‘Big Brother.’] Maya was screaming on the other end. [Good! Chat well with your match tonight, and it’ll be a double celebration. I get a sister, and you get a boyfriend.] I didn’t look up until the stylist sprayed the setting spray. Huh? Caleb was wearing a dark suit, his hair slightly swept back. I was also in dark colors, with an iris floral hair accessory pinned to my updo—the exact same design as Caleb’s pocket square. A slight smirk crossed his lips. “Heh. Got your wish? Ecstatic?” It seemed like we were wearing sibling outfits. I quickly nodded, genuinely praising my future brother. “Thank you, I like it very much.” Receiving the gift, I spun around in front of the mirror. I caught Caleb making eye contact with me in the reflection. His smile flashed and vanished, quickly replaced by his cold indifference. A socialite greeted him from outside the door. “Caleb, the gala is starting. Let’s go.” Caleb picked up his suit jacket and walked out. By the time I caught up, they were back to talking and laughing. I wanted to circle around them, but my hearing was too good. I heard the socialite’s chuckle. “Is that Miss George girl about to succeed in social climbing? She used to cling to your sister, now she’s clinging to you, trying to fly up and become a phoenix.” I stopped in my tracks. I waited for Caleb’s reply. “A little favor just to dismiss her. The Hudson family isn’t that easy to enter.” “Gets a hairstyle and smiles like an absolute fool.” “Haha, Caleb, keeping up with the push-and-pull method? Clever! Oh, Miss George is out?” The socialite arched an eyebrow at me. The mockery and contempt in his eyes were glaringly obvious, not hidden at all. I pretended not to hear. It was happier to play the fool. Pinching the skin of my palm, I summoned an appealing smile and bowed to Caleb. “Thank you, Mr. Hudson! I’m leaving first. Won’t disturb your chat.” Observing people was a skill I had developed since childhood. Even if this brother didn’t like me, as long as Maya was here, I could endure it. Caleb seemed slightly dissatisfied, pointing at his wrist watch. “Mind the time. The gala is starting.” Right, I was almost late for my date too. I circled around to the elevator, not wanting to go up with them. Ignoring Caleb’s gaze, which followed me. I needed to find my potential match’s location. I chatted with my potential match for half an hour. The younger son of the Lee family was the same age as me, and we got along well. Liam Lee owned a ranch in Europe, and I had also worked on a farm in the countryside. He played video games but was terrible at them. I, however, had been a gaming champion in the orphanage. Liam praised me for being amazing, making me blush. He had also brought a gift, a piece of auctioned jewelry. “Maya mentioned you’d be joining the Hudson family formally soon. We’re a good match. Since it’s an arranged marriage, as long as we can coexist peacefully. Let’s start as friends.” I felt the same way. Being around this person was pressure-free; at least I could laugh freely. I didn’t have to follow strict rules for every smile and move in front of Caleb Hudson, playing the perfectly obedient sister. There was music coming from the main hall. Liam said it was a Hudson family reception. He was looking at his group of friends’ chat, sharing gossip. “I heard Caleb Hudson was stood up by his dance partner. They were even wearing matching couple outfits. This is Caleb’s first time bringing a girl, how did he get stood up?” “Someone took a photo of Caleb’s somber face. He couldn’t even hold his red wine steady and pushed past several CEOs’ conversations, seemingly walking this way?” I was curious too. I quickly shared the gossip with Maya. [Your brother has a dance partner tonight. It might be your future sister-in-law!] [Wow! Triple celebration!] Liam was gossipy too. He smiled and leaned close to me to look at the messages. Seeing my bare neck, he said, “Put on the gift first. Girls need some jewelry to show their nobility. Let’s go out later, okay?” I had just nodded. A somber voice interrupted our laughter. “Go out where?” Caleb was standing across from us, a forced smile on his face, scrutinizing the necklace on my neck. “Are you so smitten by a cheap, hundred-thousand-dollar trinket that you can’t walk away?” He ignored me and stared at my potential match, his tone mocking. “Her intention was originally to enter my home. You are just a backup.” Liam was stunned. “Caleb, you are Ellie’s first home. I am just the second. I’m willing, and it’s voluntary.” Caleb was stunned, then cursed under his breath, “Morally corrupt.” Then he glared at me. I could only try to diffuse the situation. “Mr. Hudson, in the future I will live at his house and come to yours on weekends. Is that okay?” Caleb made an aggressive move toward the red wine glass on the table. His tone was icy. “He gets five days, I get two. Who gave you the courage?”

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When I realized that my childhood best friend was destined to fall for the poor transfer student and eventually kill me… To survive, I faked my own death. Before jumping into the ocean, I left him a single text message: [I saw her touch your hand today. It’s so dirty. I’m never seeing you again!] He was absolutely devastated. He threw himself into the sea multiple times just trying to find my remains. Meanwhile, I was already on a private jet flying out of the country. Five years later, I figured he and the transfer student had probably gotten their happily-ever-after, and it was time for me to return home and inherit my family’s billions. I never expected that on the very night I returned, he would lock me up in a cliffside mansion. The man who was always so proud, aloof, and untouchable slowly peeled off his gloves. He dropped to his knees in front of me, almost pathologically obsessed, intertwining his fingers with mine and kissing my hands relentlessly. “Chloe, I’m not dirty. From now on, no one but you will ever touch me.” 01. Asher Vance and I grew up together. Since I was a little girl, I firmly believed that we would get married when we grew up, and live happily ever after like a princess in a fairy tale. Unfortunately, fairy tales are just fairy tales, and I wasn’t the princess. During our junior year of high school, a transfer student joined our class. She had jet-black hair, snow-white skin, and a gentle, radiant smile. She even talked to stray animals. Without a doubt, she was the real princess. I leaned against the windowsill, looking down at Mia Harper chatting with a bird in the courtyard. Asher stopped behind me, his tone slightly icy. “It’s P.E. class. Why aren’t you downstairs yet?” He had loved bossing me around since we were kids. From what I ate and wore, to my grades and my friends. Because of this, my parents absolutely adored him. After all, what parent wouldn’t love a straight-A student who helped keep their own rebellious kid in line? I was used to his strictness, but sometimes I still pushed back. Like a rebellious teenager defying a parent. I pointed at Mia down below and asked, “Look at her. Don’t you think she’s interesting?” Asher followed my gaze and calmly delivered his verdict. “Lunatic.” “But I think she’s fascinating,” I turned around, testing the waters. “What if I became friends with her?” “Idiot.” He dropped those two words coldly and walked away. I knew that meant my proposal was rejected. 02. However, I never could have imagined that just one month later… He would be gripping my wrist, forcing me to apologize to Mia. His grip was so tight it left red marks. It hurt. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t shake him off. Mia was half-kneeling on the ground, her clothes dirty and her knees scraped. “What happened to you?” I asked. “You pushed me down the stairs, and now you’re asking me what happened?” I glanced at the staircase behind me. “I did walk past here just now, but I didn’t push anyone.” “There are no security cameras here, so of course you can say whatever you want. You were the only one who walked by. If it wasn’t you, did I just throw myself down the stairs?” “Why would I even push you?” “Who knows? Maybe you hate seeing me getting close to Asher.” I frowned. I turned to look at Asher. Getting close to him? Didn’t he say we only needed each other as best friends? Why did he forbid me from befriending her, yet he was getting close to her himself? Why was he forcing me to apologize when I hadn’t done anything wrong? But those unasked questions were destined to remain unanswered. He just held me down, forcing me to say sorry. At that exact moment, a massive flood of information rushed into my brain. It was the “Plot.” It told me that Asher and Mia were the male and female leads of a romance novel. Mia had fallen for Asher because he unintentionally scared off some thugs who were bothering her. Asher would slowly fall for her kindness and purity. And I? I was just the vicious, jealous villainess standing in the way of their love. I would eventually be despised and hated by Asher for bullying Mia. And finally, once the two leads got their happy ending, Asher would kill me. My first reaction was, naturally, utter disbelief. But a second later, the hand forcing my head down served as a harsh reality check. It hurt. My wrist hurt, and my neck hurt. In the past, if I got a mosquito bite, he would be the first to fuss over it. Now, he was viciously forcing me to my knees to apologize to someone else. I hadn’t done it, yet he chose to believe a girl he had known for a month over me. And so, I recalled the ending of that “Plot” again. I… would be killed by Asher. Terrified by that thought, I ripped myself out of his grip and ran. I ran all the way home. 03. My mom was arranging flowers in the living room. Seeing me burst in, she quickly asked: “School isn’t out yet. Why are you home? Where’s Asher?” “Asher, Asher, Asher! That’s all you care about! He’s bullying me to death!” “Oh, sweetie, did you pick a fight with him again? You know he only does things for your own good.” I knew I couldn’t reason with her, so I ran upstairs to my room. I locked the door tight and hid under my blankets. I tossed and turned, thinking about the past and this supposed future. Night fell. Asher never came looking for me. Usually, whenever we fought, he was always the first to come coax me out of my mood. He didn’t come this time. And I finally made up my mind. I was going to run. Far, far away. On the day of the autumn break, I had previously made plans to go to the beach with Asher. But right before we left, he brought Mia along. The car ride was suffocatingly quiet. Asher cleared his throat, and Mia immediately handed him a water bottle. When their fingertips brushed, Asher only frowned slightly. Asher was a severe germaphobe. He never let anyone touch him. Even when I wanted to touch him, I had to ask for permission first. Yet now, he didn’t resist at all. This reminded me of the “special exceptions” mentioned in the Plot. It only cemented my resolve to leave. 04. The ocean breeze was gentle. On the picnic blanket that I had personally picked out, the two of them sat side by side. Asher still had his usual stoic expression, but occasionally, when Mia spoke to him, he would reply. I made one last phone call to confirm my arrangements. Then, I asked Asher to walk up the cliffside rocks with me. If he had looked closely, it wouldn’t have been hard to notice how bulky my jacket was. Underneath it was a high-grade life vest. I just wanted to escape; I didn’t want to actually die. Even with all the preparations, I was still terrified. If Asher had asked what was wrong, I would have told him. I didn’t want to leave the home I had known my whole life, but I wanted to live. If he asked, it would mean he still cared about me. And maybe, just maybe, I could avoid that tragic ending. But we walked all the way to the top of the cliff, and he didn’t say a single word. It was so obvious that something was wrong with me, yet he was completely blind to it. Forget it, then. If I couldn’t change the Plot, I would just have to change my own destiny. “My parents really love you. Will you… take good care of them in the future?” Perhaps noticing the strange tone in my voice, he frowned slightly. He just kept his hands in his pockets and gave a vague, dismissive hum. “That’s good.” I smiled at him, though I desperately wanted to cry. We had made a promise that when we turned eighteen, he would take me skiing. I had never seen real snow. Once we got into college and moved out, we were going to get a pet. I had even picked out the breed. I was going to get a massive Alaskan Malamute. When winter came, I would force him to walk the dog. I wanted him to be so cold and exhausted that he wouldn’t have the energy to boss me around anymore. But how could a person’s heart change so quickly? 05. “I thought you were going to throw a tantrum forever.” When he said that, his tone carried a sigh of relief, as if a burden had been lifted. I was moved by that tiny sliver of relief and turned to look at him. “I didn’t push her. Mia framed me. Do you believe me?” He frowned again. “Chloe, refusing to admit when you’re wrong—you’ll never have any real friends acting like this.” I gave a bitter laugh and didn’t ask again. A gust of wind blew past. I said, “You go down first. I want to look at the ocean a little longer.” “Come down with me. It’s not safe up here.” “Just for a minute. You go. I’ll be right behind you.” He stood stubbornly behind me. Until his phone rang. It was Mia. “Asher, can you come look? I think I got bitten by a bug.” Asher hesitated for a second, then dropped a quick: “Hurry up and come down.” Then he turned and left. I sat on the edge of the cliff, watching him walk briskly toward the beach. I let out a soft sigh. It felt like I had used up a lifetime’s worth of sighs over these past few weeks. I pulled out my phone and typed one last message. [I saw her touch your hand today. It’s so dirty. I’m never seeing you again!] Once I saw ‘Delivered,’ I smashed the phone against a rock until it was shattered. I turned and leaped into the ocean. The freezing saltwater swallowed me whole. The life vest quickly pulled me back up. Right before breaking the surface, I swam under the overhang of the cliff. That was exactly why I had chosen this specific spot. It didn’t take long for Asher’s voice to echo from the beach above. “Chloe Sterling!” He had finally seen the text. I heard him tearing off his jacket, ready to jump in, but Mia was frantically holding him back. From a distance, all I could hear were his desperate screams. … Thanks to Mia stalling him, I had enough time. An unremarkable fishing boat passed by and slowly sailed away. By the time the rescue teams arrived, I was already long gone. 06. Our little childhood trio actually had three members. The third was Stella Monroe. Last year, she moved to Italy with her older brother and settled there. They say the most dangerous place is the safest place. I contacted her and begged for her help. She agreed immediately. When I told her about the insane “Novel Plot,” she believed me without hesitation. The very next morning, she flew her family’s private jet back to the States. We met in the security booth of my gated community. There were no cameras inside the booth, so Asher wouldn’t be able to track me. Inside that tiny room, we hatched our master plan. Originally, I just wanted to sneak away while Asher wasn’t looking. But Stella was the one who suggested faking my death. I thought about it and realized she was right. If I just ran away, Asher would have me dragged back within a week. But Stella said: “This is how all those ‘groveling romance’ novels work! The male lead betrays the female lead, so she punishes him with her death.” I seriously suspect there’s something toxic in the water of our neighborhood. How else did it produce three absolute weirdos like us? Regardless, I no longer believed in fairy tale princesses. The princess’s story ends with the prince loving her. My prince didn’t love me. From today onward, I was going to be the wicked witch, cursing all the bad princes to turn into toads. 07. My first year in Italy. I saw snow at the foot of the Alps. The first snowfall happened to land exactly on my birthday. Stella enthusiastically invited all her friends and threw a massive party at her villa. Right before midnight, Stella dragged me onto the dance floor. We danced from age 17 into age 18. She got completely wasted and leaned against my shoulder. She slurred that the female lead would eventually find her true happiness. I looked out the window at the falling snow and said, “I’m already very happy.” I meant it from the bottom of my heart. Aside from the occasional moments when I thought of Asher, I was truly happy. My first birthday without him was loud, chaotic, and wonderful. Without him, I could live a great life too. 08. During the New Year, I finally called my parents. At first, they thought they were hallucinating. Once they realized it was really me, they screamed and scolded me mercilessly. I hadn’t told them my plan because I was terrified they would snitch to Asher. Looking back, I don’t know if that was the right choice. But listening to them yell at me, I didn’t argue back. I reminded them not to tell Asher, and they reluctantly agreed. Finally, I couldn’t help but ask how he was doing. They told me that for the first two days, he sat on the beach from dawn until dusk, staring at the police boats searching the water. It took over a month for him to somewhat calm down. On my birthday, he sat on that cliffside all day. He ignored everyone who tried to talk to him. Displayed on his phone screen was the last text I ever sent him. After that, Mia took my place, following him everywhere like a shadow. My parents felt sorry for me. They said if I hadn’t left, Mia would never have had the chance. I didn’t tell them that they were already practically glued together before I left. I updated them on my life. The Monroe family had a small chateau near the Alps. That was where Stella and I were staying. I had been taking language classes for a few months, and I planned to enroll at the University of Trento by the fall. Stella and her brother had arranged everything, and it had cost a fortune. I told my parents to make sure they paid the Monroes back. Without a second thought, my parents wired five million dollars to Stella’s account. After months of living off my best friend, I was a rich heiress again. 09. I showed them the snow outside my window on the video call, and they promised to visit when they had time. Before hanging up, they couldn’t help but drop subtle hints that Asher had become terrifyingly gloomy since I left, and that he truly cared about me. I explicitly warned them that if they breathed a word of this to Asher, I would disappear again, and this time, they would never find me. After ending the call, I thought for a long time. I had left while Asher still loved me. That was why he remembered me. A dead first love is the most unforgettable thing in the world. But if I had stayed, and waited until he completely fell for Mia… I would have gone from a cherished memory to an annoying stain on his life. If I left then, everyone would have just clapped and cheered. Since that was the case, it was better to stay a ghost in his heart. Once he fell in love with Mia, I would have made a graceful, dignified exit from his story. It was the best possible outcome. After completing a grueling series of courses and exams, I entered the Economics program at the University of Trento the following autumn. Four years later, having fast-tracked my credits, I earned my Master’s degree in Economics. Five years after I left my hometown, Stella was called back to the States. I remembered that I also had a corporate empire waiting for me to inherit. Figuring that Asher and Mia’s relationship was probably rock solid by now, I decided to hitch a ride on Stella’s jet and return home. I hadn’t even eaten dinner after landing before my mom shoved me into a gown and dragged me to a high-society business gala. At first, I hid in the corners, terrified of being recognized. Until I realized that absolutely no one in the room knew who I was. I had hated these glitzy events even back then, so I rarely attended. And after five years away, my face, my aura, and my style had completely changed. No one could recognize me. Relieved, I found a plush sofa and sat down comfortably. Half an hour into the gala, a massive commotion broke out near the entrance. Whispers spread that a “V.I.P.” had arrived. Curious about who could make all these billionaires stand at attention, I cautiously poked my head out from the crowd. And locked eyes with Asher Vance in a tailored suit. 10. Asher wore a bespoke black suit, his posture impeccably straight, his facial features even sharper and more striking than they were five years ago. The moment he appeared, the air in the ballroom seemed to freeze. The corporate titans who normally looked down their noses at everyone were now tripping over themselves to flash him obsequious smiles. I shrank deep into the corner of the sofa, holding up a massive slice of Black Forest cake to hide my face, chanting internally: You can’t see me, you can’t see me. After all, my current look was entirely different from the arrogant, flashy heiress I used to be. I was wearing a low-key champagne gown, my hair pinned up in an elegant twist, and I even had a pair of gold-rimmed blue-light glasses on. It was a very ‘intellectual scholar’ vibe. But Murphy’s Law is undefeated. Asher didn’t spare a single glance at the sycophants surrounding him. Instead, like he had a built-in radar, his gaze pierced straight through the crowd and locked onto my corner. He lengthened his stride, walking directly toward me. The crowd automatically parted like the Red Sea. I swallowed hard, my fork nearly slipping from my hand. Run! That was the only word in my brain. I shot up from the sofa, grabbed the skirt of my gown, and bolted toward the side exit. I made it exactly two steps before a hand clamped onto my wrist like a vice. The grip was brutal, the heat radiating from his skin searing—exactly like that day five years ago when he forced me to apologize to Mia. My entire body went rigid. A chill ran down my scalp. “Chloe Sterling. Where exactly do you think you’re running to?” His voice was low, raspy, vibrating with five years of suppressed madness and greed. It exploded right next to my ear. I took a deep breath, turned around, and forced the most polite, stranger-like smile I could muster. “Excuse me, sir, I think you have the wrong person. My name is Aria. I just flew in from Italy.” Asher lowered his eyes, staring at me dead center, a chilling smirk curling on his lips. “Aria? Italy? Master’s in Economics from Trento?” With every word he spoke, my heart sank an inch deeper. He knew everything! He didn’t just know I was alive; he had investigated every single detail of my life! “Let go! You’re hurting me!” I started to thrash, trying to pry his fingers off. The crowd around us collectively gasped. Clearly, no one ever dared to speak to Asher Vance like that. Instead of letting go, Asher tightened his grip and yanked me flush against his chest. The familiar, icy scent of cedarwood instantly enveloped me. “Does it hurt? When you threw yourself into the ocean, did you ever stop to think if I would hurt?” His eyes turned instantly red, his voice carrying a nearly imperceptible tremor. I froze. Before I could even process what was happening, he bent down, hoisted me over his shoulder, and stood up. “Asher! Are you insane?! Put me down! There are people everywhere!” I screamed in terror, pounding my fists against his back. “I went insane a long time ago. From the exact second you jumped into the sea, I lost my mind.” Ignoring the utterly shocked stares of the elite crowd, he carried me straight out of the banquet hall and shoved me into the back of a black Maybach waiting at the entrance.

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My sister-in-law loved making dirty jokes about my husband. When my husband wore a tight black dress shirt, her eyes lit up: “Wow, looking big and broad where it counts!” When my husband did leg day at the gym, she’d click her tongue in admiration: “A man who trains his legs is the best gift a girl could ask for…” It wasn’t until our family’s holiday dinner party, during a game of Cards Against Humanity-style rapid-fire questions, that she finally crossed the line into blatant provocation. Smiling, I drew a card and asked her: “What do you use to wipe your ass?” My sister-in-law, Chloe, didn’t even blink: “Your husband’s hands!” The entire table erupted into roaring laughter. My mother wasn’t angry at all; instead, she laughed and affectionately patted Chloe’s hand. I drew another card and asked: “What do you use to wash your feet?” She raised an eyebrow with a wicked smirk: “Your husband’s mouth.” My husband, Liam’s, face instantly turned beet red all the way to his ears. I smiled, took a sip of my wine, and asked my final question: “What are you hiding on your phone that you don’t want anyone to see?” Chloe slammed her hand on the table and shouted: “Your husband’s nudes!” My cousin, Tyler, slapped the table in approval, wrapping his arm tightly around Chloe’s waist, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “That’s my wife! She’s ruthless! Mia, you lost! Drink up!” I left my wine glass untouched, staring dead into Chloe’s eyes. “I don’t believe you. Pull them out and show us.” ……. Chloe’s face instantly went paper-white. Her previous arrogance vanished into thin air. She instinctively clutched her phone tightly to her chest, her eyes darting around nervously. Tyler was still hyping up the crowd, reaching out to grab her phone. “Come on, Chloe, pull it out and show her! Make this girl admit defeat!” Another cousin chimed in: “If you don’t have them, you have to take a shot of whiskey!” I let out a soft laugh and immediately poured a massive, overflowing glass of straight whiskey. “I’ve shown my hand. Now let’s see if you actually have the guts to show yours, Chloe.” Chloe’s demeanor snapped. She abruptly stood up, her chair screeching against the floor. “Mia, what the hell is that supposed to mean?! Are you accusing me of something? It’s just a stupid game! I’m not playing anymore!” She turned to storm off, but Tyler grabbed her arm. “Why are you getting so mad? We just want to look at your phone. It doesn’t hurt to just prove it!” The moment those words left Tyler’s mouth, tears started rolling down Chloe’s face like a broken string of pearls. She pointed a trembling finger right at Tyler’s nose and screamed: “So you don’t trust me either, is that it?! Have you been wanting to dump me for some fertile woman who can actually give you kids?!” “Fine! Let’s get a divorce! We can divorce right now!” The moment she said that, the entire living room fell into a deathly, suffocating silence. The older relatives’ faces all changed. They dropped their playing cards and rushed over to intercede. My mom was the first to charge at me. “You stupid girl! It’s the holidays! Why did you have to play this stupid game and provoke your sister-in-law like this?! Are you happy now?!” She viciously pinched my arm. “Apologize to your sister-in-law right now!” My older aunt chimed in: “Mia, you are being incredibly immature! Just because you can’t get pregnant yourself doesn’t mean you should be jealous of your sister-in-law!” My second aunt piled on: “A woman who can’t bear children has committed the ultimate sin! How do you even have the nerve to cause a scene here? If it were me, I’d find a hole to crawl into and hide!” “Chloe, sweetie, don’t be mad. Couples fight, it’s normal! There’s no need to blow this out of proportion just because Mia is acting like a brat!” Chloe cried even harder. “This isn’t about the game! This is about trust! He doesn’t even trust me! How am I supposed to stay married to him?!” As she cried, she sprinted toward the balcony. “I’d be better off dead!” Tyler lost his temper too. “Mia! It was just a game! Are you really going to push your sister-in-law to suicide before you’re satisfied?!” But even as he yelled at me, his eyes couldn’t help but nervously dart toward Chloe. “Chloe… is there actually something on your phone you don’t want us to see?” Chloe’s tears fell even faster. She ran to the edge of the balcony and threw one leg over the railing! Tyler’s face drained of all color. “CHLOE!” My mom was practically jumping up and down in panic. She spun around and slapped me hard across the face. “You jinx! How did I give birth to something like you?!” “She is pregnant with a child! If anything happens to her or that baby, you will be the greatest sinner in this family’s history!” “Get over there and apologize to her right now! Talk her down!” Several of my cousins started shoving me forward. “Go! Do you want to murder the family’s first grandson?!” “You ungrateful bitch! How dare you bully your sister-in-law!” I shrugged indifferently. “She’s the one who can’t handle losing a game she started.” My mom grabbed me by the hair, trying to drag me toward the balcony. “Chloe, please! Mia knows she was wrong! She’s here to apologize!” “Please come down! You’re going to hurt the baby!” Tyler stood nearby, his face looking utterly dreadful, but he couldn’t hide his panicked concern. “Okay, okay, I believe you! We won’t look at the phone, okay? Just come down!” But Chloe felt empowered by the attention. “Why should my reputation be dragged through the mud for no reason?! She has to apologize to me! Otherwise, I’m not coming down!” Tyler panicked. “Mia, please! I’m begging you! I know you’re stubborn, but just apologize to your sister-in-law! She’s pregnant!” I looked at Tyler, shaking my head in profound disappointment. “I’ll apologize, but only after she pulls out her phone and lets me see it.” Chloe immediately threw her other leg over the railing! My mom looked like a deranged lunatic, lunging forward to beat me again, but Liam grabbed her arm to stop her. He shot me a highly complex, unreadable look. “If I take her phone and show it to you, will you apologize?” I raised an eyebrow and nodded. Liam reached out. His hand had barely brushed against Chloe’s phone. Suddenly, Chloe let out a piercing scream. Her foot slipped, and her entire body plummeted backward off the balcony! Without a second thought, Liam lunged forward to grab her, but her momentum threw him off balance, and he was dragged over the railing with her! “CHLOE!” Tyler screamed like his soul had left his body, sprinting frantically down the stairs. I stood coldly in the living room, watching my family devolve into absolute chaos—screaming, calling 911, rushing downstairs to save them. My mom charged back up to me and shoved me violently. “You cold-blooded, heartless animal! Liam fell off the balcony trying to save Chloe, and you don’t even care?!” “Did you really have to win this stupid game?! If there are no photos on that phone, you just murdered two people for nothing!” “How did I raise such a vicious, sociopathic monster?!” The other relatives swarmed around me, pointing fingers. “You absolute jinx! Ruining the holidays with this tragedy!” “You can’t get pregnant yourself, so you can’t stand seeing anyone else happy! Your heart is pure evil!” “Tyler has the worst luck in the world having you as a cousin!” I casually brushed the imaginary dust off my shirt. “We’re on the second floor. Even if they landed on their heads, they wouldn’t die.” “As for what’s on that phone… if she truly had nothing to hide, would she rather risk death than let me see it?” My mom froze, temporarily speechless. Right then, Tyler’s agonizing, gut-wrenching screams echoed from the courtyard below. “Chloe! Chloe is bleeding! The baby! My baby!” Liam, who had broken his leg trying to shield Chloe during the fall, was sweating profusely from the pain. Our massive extended family swarmed the hospital emergency room like a chaotic army. Outside the operating room, Tyler knelt on the floor, his face ghost-white, pulling violently at his own hair. “This is all my fault… this is all my fault…” “Chloe went through so much pain—taking all those pills and getting all those injections just to finally get pregnant—and I actually doubted her… I’m a monster!” I walked up to him and held out my hand. “Where is her phone?” Tyler snapped his head up. His hands balled into tight fists, and pushed past his breaking point, he roared at me: “Your sister-in-law and your husband are both in emergency surgery! And you’re still obsessing over a fucking phone?!” “Is human life worth less to you than a stupid game?!” Furious and devastated, he pulled Chloe’s phone out of his pocket and violently hurled it at my chest. “Here! Take it! Are you happy now?!” The relatives gathered outside the OR instantly erupted, pointing their fingers at my nose and cursing me. “Mia, you have crossed the line!” “You don’t even care if your own husband lives or dies! Are you even human?!” “If anything happens to Chloe, you will pay for it for the rest of your life!” I treated their voices like white noise. My only focus was opening that phone. But the screen was completely shattered from the fall. It was just a glowing white void; I couldn’t see a thing. Tyler let out a cold, bitter laugh as he stood up. “Satisfied now? The phone is destroyed! You can’t check anything!” “If anything happens to my wife or my child, I am going to destroy you!” Everyone crowded around the OR doors, waiting anxiously for news. I quietly texted a friend who worked in IT forensics: “I need a massive favor. I have a phone with a shattered screen that needs data recovery. As fast as humanly possible.” I ordered an emergency courier and sent the broken phone off immediately. Just then, the doors to the operating room opened. The doctor pulled down his mask and shook his head. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could. The baby didn’t make it.” Chloe was wheeled out. Her face was as pale as a sheet of paper, her lips cracked and dry, her eyes tightly closed. Tyler broke down completely. He threw himself over her gurney, sobbing hysterically. “Chloe! My baby! This is all my fault!” “I’m so sorry!” He began viciously slapping his own face, over and over, only stopping when blood began to trickle from the corner of his mouth. I walked up and patted his shoulder. “Tyler. My condolences.” “But honestly, you shouldn’t be so sure that baby was even yours.” Tyler whipped his head around, grabbed me by the collar, and slapped me hard across the face. “Mia! I’m going to kill you, you bitch!” “What the hell are you trying to do?! Chloe is lying here half-dead, and you’re still trying to slander her?!” “What did I ever do to you that makes you want to destroy my marriage so badly?!” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and stared at him with a cold, mocking smile. “Slander her?” “Tyler, do you honestly believe Chloe was a virgin who had never dated anyone before she met you?” I pulled a photograph out of my pocket and slapped it hard against his chest. It was a photo of Chloe and Liam. In the picture, they looked about seventeen or eighteen years old. They were clinging to each other like conjoined twins. Chloe’s arms were wrapped tightly around Liam’s neck, their lips practically touching. The intimacy was undeniable. Tyler picked up the photo. His eyes instantly glazed over. He stared at the picture, then looked at me, his lips trembling. It took him a long time to force out a sentence. “What… what is this?” The relatives swarming around us leaned in to look. The moment they saw the photo, the hallway exploded in shock. “Wait… isn’t that Liam?” “Chloe and Liam knew each other before this?” “No wonder Chloe refused to show her phone earlier… Is there something going on between them?” The commotion woke Chloe up. She slowly opened her eyes, and the moment she saw the photo, her face turned a ghastly shade of white. She struggled to sit up on the gurney. “Mia! You psycho! Liam and I were just classmates in high school!” “You actually photoshopped a picture to frame me and destroy my marriage with Tyler! You are pure evil!” She looked at Tyler, tears streaming down her face, her eyes filled with desperate grievance. “Honey, you have to believe me! I have never, ever betrayed you! This is all Mia’s sick, twisted conspiracy!” Tyler held the photo, his hands shaking violently. He looked at Chloe, then back at the photo. His eyes were a chaotic mess of conflict and doubt. I let out a cold laugh. “Classmates? Do classmates hold each other that tightly? Do classmates wrap their arms around each other’s necks?” “Chloe, I already did the background check. You and Liam dated in high school, and you lived together for two years!” “When you married Tyler, you played the innocent, pure virgin. Doesn’t that make you sick to your stomach?” Chloe’s face went completely bloodless. She opened her mouth, but for a long time, no words came out. Tyler stared at Chloe. “Chloe, is she telling the truth?” Chloe shook her head frantically, crying and screaming, “NO! Honey, please believe me! Mia made this all up! She’s jealous that I could get pregnant with your child, so she’s trying to frame me!” She struggled off the gurney and threw herself into Tyler’s arms, hugging him tightly around the waist. “Honey, you know how much I suffered to get pregnant! This baby was a miracle! And now that Mia killed our baby, she’s still trying to ruin my reputation…” I laughed. “What’s so hard about getting pregnant? I just lent you my husband for a night, right?” Chloe pointed a shaking finger at me. “What the hell are you talking about?! You really have gone insane from playing that game!” I smiled coldly. “I just paid someone to take the fetal tissue from your miscarriage to a private lab for a rapid DNA test.” “Whether I’m talking nonsense or not, we’ll know as soon as the results come back.” The panic in Chloe’s eyes was instantaneous and undeniable. The next second, she turned a freezing, lethal glare onto Tyler. “Tyler, did you know about this?! Did you authorize this test?!” Tyler shook his head frantically. “No! I had no idea she did that!” The hatred in Chloe’s eyes was palpable. She stared at Tyler, enunciating every word. “Tyler, since you clearly suspect me too, then we are done.” “The second the courthouse opens, we are getting a divorce!” Tyler completely panicked. He grabbed Chloe’s hands, his eyes filled with desperate pleading. “No! Chloe, I never doubted you! I don’t care if you dated someone before me, it doesn’t matter! I truly love you!” “Please don’t divorce me! This is all Mia’s fault!” The aunts and uncles immediately started trying to play peacemaker. “Yeah, Chloe, every couple fights. Tyler was just confused for a second, you have to forgive him.” “You can always have another baby, but if you get a divorce, you’ll lose everything!” “Mia, so what if your sister-in-law dated someone before? Didn’t you date around in college too? Who are you to judge?!” “You act like a total bitch, and you still have the nerve to attack your sister-in-law!” “Get on your knees and apologize right now!” Right at that exact moment. A nurse walked over holding a sealed manila envelope. “The rapid DNA test results are in.” “The biological father of the fetus… is not Mr. Tyler Evans.” That single sentence acted like a nuclear bomb detonating in the middle of the hallway. Tyler stared at Chloe in absolute, shattered disbelief. The desperate love in his eyes vanished, replaced by a terrifying void. “You lied to me! You actually lied to me!” He slapped Chloe across the face with all his strength. “I treated you like a queen, and this is how you repay me?!” Chloe held her stinging cheek, crying even harder. “Honey, I didn’t! The clinic must have mixed up the test tubes! I have never betrayed you!” I laughed coldly. “A mix-up? A mix-up that just happens to perfectly match Liam’s DNA?” “He has never donated sperm to a clinic in his life.” Chloe’s face turned ash-white. “You’re making this up! Everyone knows you have friends who work at this hospital! You did this on purpose to frame me!” Just then, Liam hobbled out of his hospital room on crutches. He walked over to Chloe’s side and let out a heavy sigh. “It’s my fault.” “A while ago, I was desperate for cash, so I went to a clinic and donated sperm. I never imagined it would lead to this kind of bizarre coincidence.” “Mia, are you satisfied now?” I stared at him with a cold, mocking smile, my eyes filled with profound disappointment. “Liam, do you even bother trying to make your lies sound believable anymore?” “Do you honestly think that pathetic excuse is going to clear you and Chloe?” Tyler suddenly snapped. Like a wild animal, he grabbed me by the collar and violently slammed my head against the hospital wall. “This is all your fault! You psychotic bitch!” “If it weren’t for you, Chloe wouldn’t have miscarried, and our baby wouldn’t be dead!” “Why are you doing this to us?!”

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Pregnancy insomnia had me wide awake at 2 AM, mindlessly scrolling through my phone, when I stumbled upon a video titled “Three Toasts to Destiny.” In the video, a frail girl in a hospital bed was holding up a plastic medicine cup filled with ginger ale, toasting to her rebirth. The first toast is to my lover. Here’s to him suppressing his physical disgust to sleep with that woman. Just because she has O-negative blood, making her the perfect incubator to grow my “cure.” The second toast is to the fetus. Because only that woman’s newborn stem cells are pure enough. So my lover tracked her ovulation, swapped out her birth control, and made sure she got pregnant. The third toast is to the due date. In three months, when the baby drops, my new life begins. As for the hollowed-out mother who gets left behind… who cares if she lives or dies. The comment section was flooded with people calling it “edgy” and “romantic.” But reading it, my blood ran ice cold. Because five minutes ago, my husband, Ethan Carter—a top hematology specialist. Had just brought me a glass of warm milk and a Neonatal Stem Cell Directed Donation Consent Form. Ethan was dressed in his cozy cashmere loungewear, his gold-rimmed glasses resting on the bridge of his straight nose. He looked as gentle and refined as ever. He even thoughtfully tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Audrey, drink your milk and get some sleep. It’s good for the baby.” His voice was so tender it could melt snow. If I hadn’t just watched that video, I would have thought I was the luckiest pregnant woman in the world. I looked down at the consent form. Through the dense paragraphs of legal jargon, there was only one core takeaway: The umbilical cord blood and stem cells after the baby’s birth would be donated, free of charge, to a patient named Lily Rivers. Lily. The name sounded awfully familiar. The ID of the girl in the video was “One White Lily.” My hand trembled. Half the milk spilled onto the blankets. Ethan frowned slightly, but immediately grabbed some tissues to wipe my hands. His tone was a mix of reproach and pampering. “Why are you so clumsy? Did you burn yourself?” I pulled my hand back, avoiding his touch. “Ethan, who is this Lily? Why are we doing a directed donation specifically for her?” Ethan’s movements paused. Only for a second. He quickly recovered his natural composure and pushed the paper a little closer to me. “She’s a very pitiful young girl. Her leukemia relapsed, and her condition is critical. You have rare O-negative blood, and our baby likely will too. It’s a perfect match.” He looked into my eyes, his gaze deeply affectionate. “Audrey, you have the kindest heart. Just think of it as building good karma for our child, okay?” Good karma. That phrase from the video—who cares if she lives or dies—stabbed into my brain like an ice pick. I forced down the urge to vomit and pointed at my phone screen. “What about this video? Is this good karma too?” Ethan followed my gaze. On the screen, the woman in the hospital gown was smiling at the camera. On her wrist was a braided red thread bracelet. It was the exact one Ethan claimed he got from a mindfulness retreat in Sedona two years ago. He told me he lost it. Turns out, he lost it onto another woman’s wrist. Ethan’s pupils shrank drastically. But he was too calm. Calm like a surgeon dissecting a cadaver. He took my phone, closed the app, and even casually tucked the blankets around me. “Don’t read that garbage on the internet. People make up anything for views. And that bracelet? You can buy it at any tourist trap.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead. His lips felt freezing cold. “Be a good girl. Sign it and go to sleep. That patient is running out of time.” That last sentence carried a barely detectable urgency. I stared at him. I had loved this face for seven years. From high school sweethearts to walking down the aisle, I thought he was my salvation. I never imagined he was a grim reaper coming for my life. I grabbed the pen and slashed a hard, jagged line across the consent form. “I’m not signing it.” Ethan’s face instantly darkened. That night, Ethan didn’t come back to our bedroom. He stayed in his study until dawn. The next morning, the dining table was covered with my favorite breakfast. Avocado toast, artisanal bone broth, fresh berries, and an unopened bottle of prenatal vitamins. Ethan served me breakfast with a smile, acting like nothing happened. “I had a bad attitude last night. Don’t be mad, Audrey. We can talk about the donation later. Eat first.” He pushed the bottle of pills toward me. “I had a colleague bring these back from Europe. Highest purity folic acid, great for the baby’s brain development. Make sure you take them on time.” If this were yesterday, I would have been incredibly touched. After all, he was a renowned medical authority and a notorious workaholic. Taking the time to care about these little details was proof of his love. But now, I just felt sick. I swallowed the pill right in front of him. Then, maintaining the warm, loving atmosphere, I kissed his cheek and sent him off to work. The second the front door clicked shut, I sprinted to the bathroom, shoved my fingers down my throat, and threw up my entire breakfast and the pill. Stomach acid burned my esophagus. Tears and snot smeared my face. I carefully scooped the dissolved remains of the pill into a Ziploc bag. That afternoon, I went to a private clinic. I sought out my best friend, Sarah, who worked as a pharmacist. The lab results came back fast. Sarah was holding the printout, her hands shaking. “Audrey, this isn’t folic acid. This is Filgrastim! And it’s an incredibly high dose!” “This drug is meant for bone marrow donors. It forces the bone marrow to overproduce stem cells and dump them into the bloodstream. The side effects are brutal. For a pregnant woman, long-term use can lead to liver and kidney failure, or even…” She didn’t dare finish. I finished it for her: “Even maternal death, right?” Sarah nodded, her eyes red. I smiled. A smile uglier than crying. So, the phrase who cares if she lives or dies wasn’t a hyperbole. It was a literal medical plan. He really wanted my life. Just to save his Lily. On my way home, my phone rang. It was Ethan. He was panting slightly, and the background noise was chaotic, like an ER. “Audrey, where are you? Your GPS says you’re out.” He had installed a tracker on my phone. He used to say it was to keep me safe. Now I knew it was just to monitor his “vessel.” I watched the city streets blur past the car window, keeping my voice perfectly flat. “Just out buying some baby clothes. Why?” “Go home immediately! There are too many germs out there, you’ll catch a bug.” He paused, his tone suddenly dropping into something sinister. “Don’t wander off. I’ll worry.” After hanging up, I clicked on “One White Lily’s” profile. She had updated. This time, the photo was taken outside an ICU. The caption read: [That woman hasn’t signed the form yet, but he told me to leave everything to him and rest easy. It’s okay. For our future, I can endure anything.] A comment asked: “What if she finds out?” She replied: [What if she does? The baby is in her belly, the baby’s life is in her hands. But her life, is in his hands.] My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. Ethan. If you want to play games. Let’s play for keeps. I started acting completely normal. Taking my “medicine” on time, reporting my whereabouts. Sure enough, Ethan lowered his guard. To ease whatever twisted guilt he felt, he started coming home earlier, cooking for me, and massaging my swollen legs. His hands were dry and warm, hitting all the right pressure points. Looking at his focused profile, I suddenly asked, “Ethan, we should pick a name for the baby.” His hands didn’t stop. “Let’s name him River.” “What?” “River. Like a mighty, flowing river. It’s a strong name.” I sneered in my heart. River. For Lily Rivers. How poetic. How painfully devoted. “I want to go to Mount Sinai for my next checkup. I heard there’s a specialist there who’s amazing,” I probed cautiously. Ethan’s hands suddenly tightened, digging painfully into my calf. “No need.” He looked up, the gaze behind his lenses chilling. “I am the best doctor. My colleagues are the best team. I don’t trust outside physicians.” “But…” “Listen to me.” He cut me off, leaving no room for argument. “Your condition is unique. Only I understand your body perfectly. Don’t go making a fuss out there. What if something goes wrong?” He made it sound so noble. In reality, he was terrified a real obstetrician would look at my bloodwork, see my hormone levels spiking dangerously, and realize I was being slowly murdered. Over the next two weeks, Ethan escalated his control. He hired a “nanny.” He said it was to take care of me, but she was a warden. My keycard was confiscated. My cell reception became mysteriously spotty. I was a pig in a pen. Just waiting for slaughter day. Until late one night, Ethan got a frantic call and rushed out. He forgot to lock the study. I slipped in and found a folder on his desktop named “L & E”. Encrypted. I tried my birthday. Error. Our wedding anniversary. Error. Finally, I typed in the date from Lily’s video—the day they celebrated their “rebirth.” October 18th. The folder clicked open. It was packed with photos and medical records. Pictures of Lily bald from chemo, pictures of her leaning into Ethan’s chest, laughing brilliantly. The timestamps spanned a decade. They were the high school sweethearts. I was just the tragic accident who got in the way, the unlucky fool who happened to have the golden O-negative blood. In a document titled Ovulation & Conception Protocol, I found something even more vile. Ethan had documented my menstrual cycles down to the hour. Which day he swapped the pills. Which day he poked holes in the condoms. Which days intercourse was strictly mandatory. Every single date corresponded to a night I had mistaken for passionate, spontaneous love. To him, those nights were just sickening, calculated breeding assignments. The last line of the document read: “Target Delivery: 32 weeks. Pre-term C-section to ensure maximum stem cell viability.” 32 weeks. That was next week. He never intended for me to carry to term. A baby born at seven months would be fighting for its life. But he didn’t care. He only needed the “cure.” The front door clicked open. Ethan was back. I instantly killed the monitor and held my breath in the dark. Footsteps stopped right outside the study. The doorknob turned. I pressed myself behind the heavy velvet curtains, shaking uncontrollably. Ethan walked in. He seemed exhausted. He collapsed into his desk chair and lit a cigarette. In the dim glow of the cherry, his face was shadowy and hollow. “Lily, just hold on a little longer. It’s almost over,” he whispered to the empty room. “Next Tuesday. I’ll schedule the surgery. You’re going to be okay.” My heart plummeted into an abyss. Next Tuesday. Three days from now. I waited until Ethan went to the master bedroom before I dared to creep back into my own room. I stared at the ceiling until dawn broke. The next morning, I intentionally threw myself down a flight of stairs. It made a horrific crash. The nanny screamed and frantically dialed Ethan’s number. I curled on the hardwood floor, clutching my stomach, cold sweat pouring down my face. “It hurts… take me to the hospital, the nearest one, now!” Ethan roared through the speakerphone: “Do not take her anywhere else! Wait for me! I’m bringing an ambulance now!” The nanny was paralyzed with fear. I grabbed her arm, my nails biting into her skin. “I’m bleeding! Are you going to watch me die? If we both die, can you afford the prison time?!” That broke her. She dialed 911. Just as the paramedics arrived, Ethan’s SUV tore into the driveway. His eyes were bloodshot as he physically shoved a paramedic out of the way. “I am a doctor! She is my patient! And my wife! I am taking her to my hospital!” The EMTs looked shocked, but recognizing his badge and authority, they backed off. I was shoved into the passenger seat of Ethan’s car. He slammed the gas pedal to the floor, his jaw tight enough to crack stone. “Audrey, did you do that on purpose?” He figured it out. I was pale from genuine pain, but I forced a weak, pathetic smile. “Ethan, I was just so scared for the baby… why are you so angry?” Ethan didn’t say a word. He drove me straight to his hospital and wheeled me right into a VIP suite. Not maternity. Hematology. In the bed next to mine lay Lily Rivers. It was the first time I saw her in person. She wasn’t as arrogant as she was online. She was skin and bones, looking like a shattered porcelain doll. But the way she looked at me was pure, unfiltered greed. Like a starving wolf looking at a slab of meat. Ethan injected something into my IV. A sedative. Before the darkness pulled me under, I heard Lily’s frail voice. “Ethan… is that her? My medicine?” Ethan stroked her hair, his voice dripping with a tenderness I had never received. “Don’t talk like that. She’s our benefactor.” “What benefactor? She’s a walking blood bag. Once the baby is out, she’s useless anyway, right?” “Lily, stop it. The OR is prepped. You get ready too.” “Ethan, do you really not feel bad? That is your child… and your wife.” Silence. A long, suffocating silence. Then, Ethan’s cold, dead voice. “Only the living have the right to claim a title. If she doesn’t cooperate, she’s nothing but medical waste.” A tear slipped from the corner of my eye and soaked into the sterile pillow. So this is what it feels like when your heart truly dies. I was violently awakened by the shrieking of medical alarms. In the bed next to me, Lily was convulsing. The lines on her heart monitor were spiking erratically. Ethan burst through the doors like a madman, a crash team hot on his heels. “Push EPI! Charge the paddles!” The look in his eyes—sheer panic, utter despair—it was the shattering grief of a man watching his soulmate slip away. Nobody paid me any attention. I lay there like an invisible prop, a few feet away, coldly watching this life-and-death melodrama. Half an hour later, Lily was stabilized. Dead silence returned to the room. Ethan slumped into a chair between our beds, his white coat drenched in sweat. He pulled off his glasses, buried his face in his hands, and let out a suppressed, agonizing sob. “Audrey.” A long time passed before he said my name. His voice was raspy, heavy with exhaustion. “She can’t hold on. The original plan was Tuesday, but we have to do it sooner.” He looked up. Those striking eyes I used to adore were bloodshot and filled with a terrifying, psychopathic resolve. “Tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon, we operate.” A chill racked my body. I instinctively covered my belly. “It’s not even 32 weeks! Ethan, you’re a doctor! You know the risks for a micro-preemie! His lungs aren’t developed, he could suffer brain damage, he could die!” Ethan stood up and walked to my bedside. He didn’t bother with the gentle husband facade anymore. He looked down at me from above, his eyes reflecting a clinically insane logic. “I know. That’s why I’ve prepared the best NICU team, the most advanced incubators on the coast. As long as that baby comes out with a heartbeat, I will keep him alive.” “But the priority is the stem cells. They must be fresh. They must be extracted at peak viability.”

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The first week back after the New Year’s break, we flew to the Chicago headquarters for the annual meeting. The Chairman laughed loudly as he looked over last year’s financial statements. “Sarah has been out at the London branch for three years now. Profits doubled last year—she takes top honors for that.” He turned to look at the man sitting next to him. “Mark, you and Sarah have been together for seven years. It’s about time you bring her back to headquarters and get married.” The other executives started teasing and egging him on. “That’s right, Mr. Sterling. A seven-year marathon? You can’t make a girl wait forever.” I subconsciously gripped my pen tightly. I thought the thousand-plus days and nights in London had finally come to an end. But upon hearing this, Mark Sterling pressed his finger down on the already printed transfer order on the table. “Chloe Bennett is being transferred to headquarters. Sarah Jenkins will remain in her current position.” His voice was cold, strictly business. “Chloe has less experience. Coming back to headquarters to learn is best for everyone.” He looked at me, his gaze dismissive. “Sarah, you wouldn’t want me to get a reputation for nepotism just over a personal matter, would you?” The raucous teasing in the conference room stopped instantly. Chloe bit her lip, the joy in her eyes impossible to hide. “Mr. Sterling, this doesn’t seem right. Sarah has been waiting for three years…” Mark turned his head to look at me. His tone was gentle, but every word felt like a knife. “Sarah, you always see the bigger picture. You understand my decision, right?” “Be good. London isn’t that far. I’ll fly out to see you every weekend from now on and bring you those croissants you love from that bakery on 5th.” I looked at Mark, then at the transfer order in Chloe’s hand that was supposed to be mine, and nodded at him. “Mr. Sterling is right. The workplace should indeed follow rules.” Mark Sterling, the road between New York and London is long. I’m not waiting for that return journey you promised anymore. … When the meeting adjourned, the New York sky was threatening rain. Everyone discreetly left first, but Chloe held her folder and trotted over to stand in front of Mark. Her eyes were red, and she was biting her lip hard. “Mr. Sterling, thank you for this opportunity. It’s just… I’m afraid Sarah will misunderstand…” Mark didn’t even look up; he was already busy pulling his hand away from where it had been resting near mine on the table. “This is a company decision. It has nothing to do with my personal relationship with Sarah.” “Sarah is manager level; she has a better grasp of reality. She won’t lose her head over nothing like you do.” Mark’s tone was distant, holding her at arm’s length. Chloe shot me a quick look, then immediately bowed her head to thank him. “Yes, I will work hard. Sarah… then I’ll have to trouble you to keep handling things in London.” I didn’t speak. I just quietly picked up my things. Only after Chloe disappeared did Mark slowly stand up. He took off his suit jacket and placed it over my shoulders. “Are you angry?” “Chloe is fresh out of college, she hasn’t seen much of the world. She needs systematic learning at headquarters to grow.” “She’ll go back to the London branch sooner or later. I’m thinking about you, too—I’m training a top-tier assistant to send to you later.” I didn’t argue. I picked up my bag and stood up. He moved to my side, quickly grabbing my briefcase from me. “Come on, I’ll take you to your hotel.” In the parking garage, I had just settled into the passenger seat when Mark took out a bakery box. “I had someone wait in line specifically to buy these for you.” He broke off a piece of a pastry and held it to my lips. But I didn’t open my mouth like I usually would. “I don’t have an appetite.” His hand paused awkwardly, then he moved to help me adjust my seatbelt. When he leaned in close, the woody cologne he was wearing was still the one I bought him last year. But as he pulled the shoulder strap, a pink, fluffy keychain hanging near the retractor immediately caught my attention. He froze for a second, then casually ripped it off. “That girl Chloe. She took the car to pick up files yesterday and insisted this seatbelt dug into her neck, so she put this cover on it.” He carelessly threw the pink fluffy thing into the center console storage bin, looking completely exasperated. “Seriously, she’s such a handful. Little girls just love this useless, fancy stuff.” In that storage bin, I used to keep my allergy medication. But now, that small bottle had been squeezed into a corner. The bin was filled with open packs of breath mints, artisanal chocolates, and miniature designer toys… If I remembered correctly, those were all things Chloe liked. I thought about the thousand-plus days and nights in London. Just to see him for a moment, I would work through lunch on Thursday and handle a whole day’s worth of files on Friday. Only then could I make the 6:00 PM last flight to New York. Sometimes due to thunderstorms and delays, I would have to sit in the airport until dawn. He always said, “Sarah, the distance between us is so great; you really don’t need to run back and forth so often.” Back then, I thought he was worried about me being tired. Only now did I understand that Mark Sterling was probably afraid I would walk in on the cozy nest he was preparing for someone else. Mark didn’t notice my inner turmoil. He started the car, his expression normal. “Is your flight booked? I won’t be able to take you to the airport tomorrow.” “Chloe needs to get familiar with the processes; I have to take her around to the different departments.” He spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Only then did I realize that he had long considered me going to the airport alone as the most normal thing. I turned my head and spoke softly. “Mark, I’ve bought 157 round-trip tickets between London and New York. The destination of every single one was you.” “But before she passed, my mom told me that if you knock on a door for seven years and it doesn’t open, it’s time to find a new path.” Mark slammed on the brakes, then reached out to pinch my cheek. “Your mother was just worried about you; she was talking out of frustration.” “I’ll reimburse you for the plane tickets. I promised at the meeting, didn’t I? From now on, I’ll fly to see you. I won’t make you tire yourself out, okay?” He took out a piece of chocolate and stuffed it into my mouth. A sweetness that didn’t belong to me spread through my mouth. “Be good. Don’t throw a temper tantrum right now. When the London project ends, I promise I’ll bring you home.” The car stopped in front of the hotel. Mark didn’t even kill the engine. He looked at his watch, then back at me. “Sarah, I’m really busy this afternoon. Go up and get some rest yourself.” He leaned in a bit, intending to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I leaned back almost like a reflex. “Mark Sterling, seven years is the limit. If you can’t make it happen, I’m not waiting for you anymore.” Mark let out a short laugh, his expression cool. “Stop talking nonsense, Sarah. It’s damp in London; remember to take your medication on time.” The next morning, I appeared punctually at the head office. When Human Resources saw the vacation request form I submitted, they were taken aback, then immediately understood and smiled. “Congratulations, Sarah. I’ve approved these ten days of wedding leave.” “I knew it. Mr. Sterling was just being emotional yesterday. After a night of you straightening him out, he must have rushed to propose to you.” Colleagues passing by heard her ambiguous teasing, and within half an hour, the news spread throughout the entire company. When I walked to the breakroom, several high-level executives I knew nodded at me in congratulation. “Sarah, you two have finally made it. Don’t forget to invite us to the wedding.” I just smiled politely, neither confirming nor denying. “I still have to hand over some work; let’s talk later.” I went to deliver the final report, not having yet entered the Chairman’s office. Through the crack in the door, I saw a sight that made my breath catch. In the Vice President’s office across the hall, Chloe was standing in front of the desk wearing a tight, professional skirt. Mark was leaning forward, his fingers reaching around her waist. It seemed the zipper was stuck, and he was patiently working on it. “This skirt isn’t appropriate. Don’t wear it next time.” Though his words were scolding, the tenderness in his eyes was something I had never seen before. Chloe giggled and snuggled closer into his arms, their posture intimate. “But I wanted to wear it for you, Mark.” Mark looked helpless and tapped her nose. “I failed to train a top-tier assistant, but I certainly raised a little troublemaker.” I curled my lips in a self-mocking smile and raised my hand to knock on the open door frame. The two inside quickly separated. When Mark saw it was me, the smile on his face vanished instantly. “Sarah, why are you still here? Weren’t you supposed to fly to London today?” He looked at the papers in my hand and let out a long sigh of relief. “Is there a report that wasn’t delivered? For a small thing like that, just have Chloe come pick it up.” Mark reached out to take them. Before his fingertips could touch mine, Chloe stepped ahead and grabbed them. “Sarah, I can handle this kind of grunt work. Mr. Sterling just praised me for being a fast learner and doing good work.” Mark nodded. “Chloe is right, Sarah. She is indeed a promising young professional.” At that moment, they truly looked like a great office mentor and mentee. Just then, the Chairman pushed open the door and walked in. As soon as he entered, he laughed heartily. “Mark, you rascal! Sarah’s wedding leave request has already made it to my desk.” “Do you two plan to have the wedding in London or here in New York?” “We have to make sure this wedding is done right for our company’s golden couple.” Mark’s hand froze violently. He looked up at me, first shocked, then anger flared in his eyes. “Chairman, our private matters aren’t settled yet. Don’t believe everything you hear, ha-ha.” The Chairman awkwardly rubbed his nose. Seeming to sense something was wrong, he made an excuse to leave. The door closed. Mark stood up and approached me. “Sarah Jenkins, you’ve really outdone yourself. You submitted a request for wedding leave!” “Acting like this—are you trying to force a marriage?” “What happened to the ‘modern, independent woman’ you always claim to be? Why are you suddenly rushing me and forcing my hand!” He lectured me without hiding his agitation. Chloe stood on the side, chiming in with a timely gasp. “Sarah, you actually submitted wedding leave…” “But Mark still has to take me to site inspections this afternoon. He… he won’t have time to help you prepare for a wedding.” Mark shot me a look of disgust and carelessly swiped a coffee mug off his desk. That mug was one I had custom-made and given to him. “Chloe, sorry you had to see this joke. The afternoon itinerary is unchanged. Go get busy first.” Chloe raised her eyebrows and gave me a meaningful, smug smile. “Okay, Mark. See you at our spot.” With that, she disappeared from my sight. Mark tugged at his tie, softening his voice. “Sarah, drop these little schemes.” “I am currently in a rising phase of my career. I will not let these private matters disrupt my plans.” “Either you use that approved time off to go on a vacation and get some rest—I’ll cover all expenses.” “Or, if you are hell-bent on getting married right now, then you can find the groom yourself.” I didn’t compromise as I usually did. I raised my head, meeting his gaze. “Fine. You said it.” After a busy week, I had almost forgotten Mark Sterling existed. He hadn’t contacted me for days. He was waiting for me to bow my head, waiting for me to send a fearful, apologetic message to coax him like I used to. But I enjoyed the peace. During my free time, I even went to feel the long-absent ocean breeze. I preferred New York. The breeze here was gentle and lingering. Not like London—the air there was damp and carried a sense of brokenness. During those three years in London, I was always a stranger in a strange land. Countless times I woke up in the middle of the night, the only thing on my mind being the promises Mark had made to me by the sea. Until Friday afternoon, he proactively sent a text: [7:00 PM, a restaurant on the Upper East Side. Happy 7th Anniversary.] Looking at those words, my heart wavered slightly. New York’s skyline, with its neon lights flickering bright and dim, reflected on Mark’s affectionate face. He pushed a jewelry box toward me. “Sarah, Happy 7th Anniversary.” My fingertips had just touched the box when his phone vibrated. On the screen, the name ‘Chloe’ was exceptionally jarring. Mark answered the phone. Chloe’s tearful voice immediately came through. “Mark, the power went out at my place. I’m so scared of the dark. I was cutting fruit just now and cut my hand. There’s so much blood…” Mark’s expression changed instantly. He gripped the phone, his voice filled with anxiety. “You’re bleeding? Is it serious? Do you have band-aids?” “Don’t move around!” What a thoughtful three-question response. I withdrew my hand. Whatever was inside that box didn’t matter anymore. He seemed to completely forget that I was sitting across from him, until Chloe cried out again on the other end. Mark looked up. Though his tone was gentle, he had clearly already made a decision. “Sarah, it’s not easy for Chloe being alone in New York. She must be terrified.” “She can handle it. I have to go over there right now.” “Can you wait for me for a bit?” He didn’t wait for my answer. He had already stood up, grabbed his coat, and rushed out of the restaurant. I lived in London alone. I learned to change lightbulbs alone. I suffered alone… from initially only knowing how to cry, to later even being able to fix leaky pipes and carry heavy groceries upstairs… During that entire time, he never appeared by my side. Actually, I had long learned not to need him. Half an hour later, Chloe, with a band-aid wrapped around her finger, appeared at the table. She looked like a child who had done something wrong, shyly hiding behind Mark. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. I’m really too clumsy. I ruined your anniversary celebration.” Mark gentlemanly pulled out a chair for her, sitting down right beside her. “Sarah, Chloe worked with you, after all. Don’t make her feel too uncomfortable.” The waiter began serving the food. Mark raised his hand to stop the plate of escargots. “Take it back. Replace it with fish soup.” That was a dish he used to order for me every single time we dated. “Sarah, your stomach isn’t great. Don’t eat anything too heavy tonight. Just have something light with Chloe.” I didn’t even know who it was exactly that had the weak stomach. He ordered a black truffle steak, cut off a piece himself, and placed it on my plate. “Sarah, you need to nourish yourself. You work too hard in London.” I stared at that piece of meat, my throat aching with bitterness. Mark had forgotten—I was allergic to it. Before going to London, I accidentally ate black truffle and was sent to the ICU. He swore at my hospital bedside that he would never let this food appear in front of me again. Meanwhile, he was lowering his head, patiently picking the side dishes out for Chloe. “Chloe, your digestion is weak. If you can’t handle it, don’t force yourself to eat it.” I picked up my fork and expressionlessly put the steak into my mouth. With my other hand under the table, I found my allergy medication and swallowed it down with the beef. Chloe’s hand slipped, spilling the soup in her bowl. “My skirt…” Her nostrils flared, and she was about to start crying again. Mark reacted quickly, directly grabbing the pocket square lying next to my hand, still in its bag. That was my 7th-anniversary gift to him. I had spent several nights in London embroidering it. He pulled out the square and wiped her skirt. “Why are you being so careless? Isn’t this skirt your favorite?” Chloe mumbled softly, “Thank you, Mark. I like this skirt precisely because the person who gave it to me is so wonderful.” After Mark finished wiping, he casually threw the stained handkerchief onto the table. He looked up at me, seeing me looking at that crumpled mass, and looked a bit impatient. “I’m sorry. It’s just a handkerchief. Chloe would have cried her eyes out if her skirt was ruined.” “You always see the bigger picture. Don’t throw a temper tantrum with me over such a small thing, okay?” I curled my lips into a self-mocking smile. “It’s fine. It served its purpose.” I stood up, walked straight to the front desk, and paid the bill. Mark chased out after me, wanting to take my hand. “Sarah, I’ll compensate you with a better one tomorrow.” I stepped aside, looking at the city lights. “Mark Sterling, there is no tomorrow for us.” He let out a short laugh, not taking these words seriously at all. “Stop it. Go back early and get some rest.” I turned around and didn’t look back at him. The next morning, when Mark called me, I was in the middle of a wedding dress fitting. “Sarah, I have a wedding reception to attend tonight, so I need to get ready. I won’t accompany you shopping today.” I looked at the white gown in the mirror, my tone calm. “Okay.” He paused, seemingly feeling guilty, and added, “Chloe hasn’t seen much of these big events. I want to take her to learn a bit.” “You’ve long grown tired of this kind of event. Going would just be networking for you, so you might as well get some rest.” “Be good. I’ll make it up to you tonight and bring you back some late-night takeout.” I gripped the phone, looking at myself in the mirror—bright and stunning. “I know.” Hanging up the phone, I turned to look at the bridesmaid next to me. “Move the veil back a bit. I don’t want to cover my face.” The Miller wedding reception was set at the most exclusive hotel in New York. When Mark arrived on the arm of Chloe, they indeed stunned quite a few people. Chloe smiled shyly, standing next to Mark—a handsome man and a beautiful woman. Someone went over to tease him. “Vice President Sterling, is this the lady who has been with you for seven years?” Mark didn’t explain, just smiled ambiguously. Chloe generously tightened her grip on his arm, nodding politely to everyone. Mark scanned the room. For some reason, he felt empty inside. He subconsciously touched his pocket; it was empty. Normally, during his networking events, Sarah would have ordered food delivery for him beforehand and prepared hangover medication. The ceremony began, the lights dimmed, and everyone’s attention focused on the entrance. “Now, let us welcome our bride.” The doors opened. Mark was casually drifting off in thought. But when he saw that figure clearly, the wine glass in his hand actually fell to the floor.

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I brought my daughter back to my hometown for the holidays. On the way, I ran into an old acquaintance. “Owen! You’re finally back to get married! Congratulations!” I was completely baffled. “Get married? Who’s getting married?” The older lady laughed and patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t be shy! Isn’t it you and your girlfriend, Sarah?” Even after she walked away, I couldn’t process what she had said. Sarah? Didn’t she and I break up five years ago? I shook my head, assuming the lady had just misremembered or confused me with someone else. That was, until I arrived at my parents’ house. The entire front yard was strung with festive lights, and a massive, blindingly bright wedding poster featuring me and Sarah was set up by the door. I stood there, completely paralyzed. … My parents, beaming with joy, rushed out to greet me and pulled me toward the house. The moment I stepped through the door, I was face-to-face with Sarah, fully dressed in a white wedding gown. Her gaze landed on me, and the corners of her mouth curled up slightly. “Owen. Surprised?” “I owe you a wedding from five years ago. The day after tomorrow, I’m making it up to you!” The expression on my face froze, cracked, and froze again. I looked around at the “Just Married” decorations plastered all over the house, and I actually laughed out loud. “Sarah, I am already married.” … Sarah stiffened for a fraction of a second, but quickly regained her composure. “Owen, are you still mad at me?” She took a step closer. “Five years ago at our wedding, when Liam said he wanted to marry you with me, it was just a joke.” “He’s a guy, and you’re a guy. How can you still be holding onto that?” She reached out and grabbed my arm, her expression softening into something gentle and coaxing. “Liam is literally just my male best friend. It’s been five years. If there was really something going on between us, why would I have waited for you all this time?” Looking at her earnest expression, I couldn’t help but let out a low, cynical chuckle. Sarah and I dated for seven years. Five years ago, we finally made it to the altar. But I never expected that on the day of our wedding, she and her best friend Liam would show up wearing identical wedding dresses, declaring that they were both going to marry me together. I was so furious I canceled the wedding on the spot and walked out. I just never imagined that five years later, she actually believed I was still standing in the exact same spot, waiting for her. “Sarah, I think you’ve deeply misunderstood the situation.” “What happened back then? I let that go a long, long time ago.” Sarah frowned slightly. Just then, a figure dashed out from the back room. “Brother-in-law! You’re finally back!” “I told you he wouldn’t hold a grudge forever! Who holds onto a joke from five years ago?” Liam sidled up intimately next to Sarah and looked at me. “Sarah and I grew up together. We’re besties. We made a pact that we’d either stay single together or marry the same guy.” “Since you didn’t like the joke, I won’t do it again. But this time, you better not run away and leave Sarah at the altar!” He said it half-jokingly, completely oblivious to how incredibly humiliating his words were. But his little speech seemed to smooth out the frown on Sarah’s face. I ignored both of them, took my daughter’s hand, and walked further into the house. My dad grabbed my arm. “Owen, be nice to Sarah.” I turned to look at my dad. “Dad, didn’t I tell you guys a long time ago? I am already married.” My dad’s face darkened. “You have the nerve to say that? There is absolutely no need to hire some woman to play your fake girlfriend just to trick me and your mother.” “That ‘girlfriend’ of yours? I only saw her once on your Facebook page five years ago!” “We aren’t so senile that we can’t tell what’s real and what’s fake!” I took a deep breath, suppressing the rising frustration and exasperation in my chest. “Dad, marriage is a massive life event. I really don’t need to lie to you about it.” “As for my wife, due to the nature of her work, it’s not convenient for her identity to be made public right now.” “But she’s coming back the day after tomorrow. When she gets here, you’ll see for yourselves whether it’s real or not.” My dad froze. “Are you actually married?” 2 Sarah’s gaze also locked onto me. After a few seconds of silence, Liam suddenly burst out laughing, as if he had just figured out a punchline. “Brother-in-law, are you seriously going to rent a wife the day after tomorrow? Is that the new trend now? Renting a fake partner to bring home for the holidays?” “Stop messing around, man. Sarah has been planning this wedding for three months!” Hearing this, the doubt in Sarah’s eyes dissipated. “Owen, I know you’re going to love the wedding I planned.” “That custom-tailored suit you loved five years ago, a beachfront villa in the most expensive part of Malibu, and that honeymoon trip to Europe you always wanted—I have it all prepared.” She spoke as if she were reminiscing about our shared past. “Even though it’s been delayed for five years, what I can give you now is infinitely better than what I could give you back then.” She took slow, deliberate steps toward me. I stepped back to avoid her. “You said it yourself, it’s been delayed for five years. I am absolutely not marrying you!” “Cancel the wedding.” I pointed at the tacky decorations plastered all over the house. “And take all of this down.” My dad rushed forward and covertly pinched my arm hard. “We have the bridal suite all set up! How can you just say you aren’t getting married?!” I met my dad’s furious glare and let out a harsh laugh. “You prepared everything so thoroughly, yet I, the groom, am only finding out about it today.” “What? Are you guys planning my wedding without even bothering to notify the person actually getting married?” My dad stiffened. My mom looked at me with deep displeasure: “Your marriage to Sarah was settled five years ago! If you hadn’t run away from the altar, you and Sarah would probably have kids by now.” “It’s a done deal. Why do we need to give you advance notice?” Hearing this, my dad seemed to find his footing again. He tried to push me toward Sarah. “Exactly! The invitations are already sent out, the catering is paid for. Stop causing trouble.” I couldn’t hold back a scoff of sheer disbelief. It was exactly the same five years ago. Sarah and Liam were crossing lines left and right, and as my parents, instead of standing up for me, they told me to “relax and be open-minded.” They even accidentally caught Sarah and Liam in highly inappropriate, compromising situations, and actually helped them hide it from me. From that moment on, I made the conscious decision to minimize contact with them. If it weren’t for my grandfather—the only person in this family who ever actually took my side—falling seriously ill, I wouldn’t have even come back for the holidays this year. Sarah reached out, trying to grab my hand again. I retreated back to the entryway, staring at that obnoxious, life-sized wedding poster. I raised my foot and kicked it down hard. “I’m not joking around with you people. Do whatever you want with this ‘wedding,’ but leave me completely out of it!” Sarah finally showed a flash of anger. “Owen, what exactly are you still dissatisfied with?!” “You can ask for anything you want. Consider it my compensation for what happened years ago.” Before I could even deliver a cold, sarcastic reply, my dad frantically grabbed my arm. My mom rushed over, picked the poster up off the floor, and carefully wiped the dust off it. “This poster cost thousands of dollars!” My dad, visibly agitated, began lecturing me: “Exactly! You hit the jackpot! Sarah is about to be admitted into the National Academy of Sciences! What do you have to complain about?!” The Academy of Sciences? Hearing those words, I paused for a second. Sarah sharply caught my reaction. As if she had seen right through me, she let out a low chuckle. “Back when we were in school, you always talked about wanting to be a scientist. But that field really requires natural talent.” She raised an eyebrow haughtily: “You might not have the title of a scientist yourself, but how does the title of ‘husband to a scientist’ sound?” 3 I snapped back to reality, looking at her incredibly self-assured, arrogant expression. “It sounds terrible. Take your garbage and get the hell out of my house!” Sarah’s face went paper-white. I ignored her, turned around, and started violently ripping down the “Just Married” decals and banners taped to the windows, throwing them directly into the trash. My dad panicked and lunged forward to physically pull me away. My mom stood off to the side, muttering angrily: “What the hell is wrong with you, you stupid boy?! We already accepted her fifty-thousand-dollar dowry!” I whipped my head around to glare at my mom. A towering inferno of rage erupted in my chest. “Fifty thousand dollars?! You accepted her money without even asking me?! Are you trying to sell me?!” A look of deep embarrassment flashed across my parents’ faces. “You ungrateful brat, how dare you speak to us like that?!” My mom, furious, raised her hand, ready to slap me across the face. I was just about to dodge when a figure rushed forward and intercepted my mom’s hand. “Mrs. Davis, please, calm down.” Sarah looked at me with a sickeningly forgiving, magnanimous gaze. “I owe Owen for what happened five years ago. He needs time to process this. I completely understand.” I looked at her, feeling absolutely nothing but intense revulsion at her fake, performative grace. “Give that money back to her immediately!” “My daughter is already four years old! I literally do not have the time to play this pathetic ‘second chance romance’ game with you people!” Everyone froze. It was as if they had only just noticed the little girl standing right next to me. Sarah’s deep, calculating gaze locked onto me: “Owen, are you absolutely certain that is your daughter?” Before I could even open my mouth, my dad rushed forward, frantically interrupting me: “What kid?! This definitely isn’t Owen’s kid!” He desperately tried to explain, “Sarah, you know this better than anyone. Think about how hopelessly in love with you Owen was back then.” “He had a crush on you for three years. He secretly brought you breakfast every single day. And later, just so he wouldn’t be separated from you, he gave up his chance to study abroad. You know all of this!” Sarah turned her gaze back to me, a confident smile playing on her lips: “Don’t worry, I trust Owen. You and Mr. Davis have nothing to worry about.” Hearing her say that, my parents finally nodded in relief. Then, they turned back to me: “I don’t care where you found this kid, but take her back immediately! It’s the holidays, why are you causing such a scene?!” As he spoke, my dad reached out, trying to grab my daughter’s hand and pull her away. My daughter flinched in fear. I quickly pulled her behind me, shielding her. “Dad, I’ve already made myself perfectly clear. Believe what you want!” My parents’ faces hardened. Liam, standing off to the side, was staring intensely at my daughter’s face: “You know what, brother-in-law? This kid actually does look a bit like you.” “Did you get so depressed over what happened five years ago that you just found some random woman to have a kid with?” My parents’ eyes instantly flared with fury. Sarah’s heavy gaze lingered on my daughter for a moment before returning to me: “Owen, I want to hear you explain this yourself.” Meeting her stubborn, intense stare, I found the whole situation utterly absurd. “Didn’t I explain it? I’ve said it a dozen times, but none of you want to believe it. If that’s how it’s going to be, I don’t see any reason to stay here and humiliate myself!” I took my daughter’s hand and turned to leave. My parents rushed forward, frantically blocking the doorway: “Wait! Wait a minute!” “Didn’t you say you came back to see your Grandpa? The doctors said he might not make it past the holidays.” My footsteps halted. If there was one single thing tethering me to this house, it was my Grandpa. I turned back to face my parents. “I’m going upstairs to see Grandpa.” Sarah grabbed my hand: “Owen, no matter what happens, I am going to marry you.” As she spoke, she glanced down at my daughter: “This child can be our flower girl. If you like kids, we can have our own later. I just hope their personality isn’t as stubborn as yours.” I couldn’t help but violently shake her off. “You have no right to dictate anything regarding my daughter. As for the wedding, if you want to get married so badly, you can do it by yourself!” 4 I picked up my daughter and walked upstairs. Grandpa was thrilled to see me. We talked for a long time. He looked at his great-granddaughter with absolute adoration, hugging her and giving her a thick, red envelope stuffed with cash for the holidays. I didn’t refuse it; it was an old man’s genuine blessing. He was the only person in this house who actually cared about my feelings. The next day, my parents didn’t bring up Sarah at all. I naively assumed they had given up. But the morning after that, I was jolted awake by the deafening sound of firecrackers. I threw open the curtains and saw a massive crowd gathered in the front yard. A fleet of luxury wedding cars was parked right outside the gate. My brain short-circuited for a second before I sprinted downstairs. My dad grabbed me immediately. “Look at you, why are you in such a rush? Go put your tuxedo on first.” I violently ripped my arm out of his grasp. “Dad, I told you! I am already married! Have you all lost your minds?!” The smiles on my parents’ faces vanished, replaced by looks of intense disapproval: “Owen, you are incredibly lucky to find a wife like Sarah. Why are you being so stubborn? Just take the out she’s giving you!” I realized there was absolutely zero point in trying to communicate with them. I shoved my dad aside and charged out the front door. At that exact moment, my phone rang. I looked down, saw the caller ID, and quickly answered: “Hey honey, are you here?” “Owen, I’m at the entrance to the neighborhood. How do I get to your house from here?” Hearing my wife’s familiar, comforting voice, I couldn’t help but smile. I kept her on the phone and started walking down the street to meet her. But someone grabbed my arm. I spun around. It was Sarah. “Owen, why haven’t you changed your clothes yet?” I didn’t have time to argue with her. But Sarah aggressively stepped in front of me, blocking my path: “Owen, listen to me. Today is our wedding day. Whatever issues we have, we can talk about them after we get married, okay?” I was forced to hang up the phone. I looked at the crowd of neighbors and relatives watching us, and raised my voice. “Sarah, I will say this one last time. We were over five years ago. I currently have a wife and a child!” The crowd erupted into shocked whispers and gossip. Sarah’s face turned dark. She grabbed my wrist tightly, trying to drag me back toward the house: “Owen, you can’t fool me. I know you still have feelings for me in your heart. How could you possibly marry someone else?” I struggled forcefully, but her grip was bizarrely strong, as if she were desperately clinging to a lifeline. “Sarah, let me go!” “I have to go pick up my wife! My wife is waiting for me at the neighborhood entrance!” Sarah’s footsteps paused for a fraction of a second: “Owen.” “Today is our wedding day. Besides me, who else would ever want to marry you?” Looking at her furious, arrogant expression, my anger boiled over into a cold laugh: “Sarah, my wife is literally down the street. We’ll see who’s real and who’s fake in about two minutes.” The surrounding neighbors, never ones to miss a good show, started murmuring loudly. “Yeah, let’s go see for ourselves.” “The guy already has a wife and a kid, and she’s still trying to force a wedding? This is a joke, right?” Sarah’s face grew uglier by the second. She was just about to snap back when another car pulled up to the curb. Liam stepped out and grabbed my arm: “Brother-in-law, congratulations! You finally got to marry Sarah.” He clearly hadn’t witnessed our argument just now. He was smiling broadly: “But Sarah has very high standards. If you want to officially be my brother-in-law, you have to prove you’ve got some skills.” “I won’t make it too hard on you. Just cook a few of Sarah’s favorite signature dishes. I’ve already got the ingredients prepped for you.” He clapped his hands, and two neighbors stepped forward carrying trays of raw ingredients. I met his smug, arrogant gaze and couldn’t help but let out a cynical scoff: “Liam, are you looking for a husband for Sarah, or are you hiring a live-in chef?” “When you tried to humiliate me five years ago, I walked away. Today, I don’t give a damn about your pathetic little games!” “Especially since I have absolutely zero intention of marrying Sarah!” With that, I violently ripped my arm out of Sarah’s grasp and started walking toward the entrance of the neighborhood. “Liam. Apologize.” I heard Sarah’s voice ring out, cold and sharp. “Owen is my husband. He doesn’t have to do any of that, and he certainly doesn’t need to prove himself with any ‘tests’.” Liam’s face went white. He looked at Sarah, playing the victim: “Sarah, I was just playing a little game with my brother-in-law. How was I supposed to know he’d be so sensitive about it?” Sarah’s voice grew even colder: “Shut up. If you speak like that again, you don’t need to attend my wedding.” As she finished speaking, I heard footsteps rushing up behind me. Sarah grabbed my arm again: “Owen, ignore what Liam said. Let’s just get in the wedding car, okay?” Her gaze softened considerably. My parents hurried over, chiming in to pressure me. “Owen, stop lying about being married to get out of this.” “Exactly, it’s your wedding day. Stop throwing tantrums.” Hearing even my own parents say this, the neighbors watching the spectacle began to look confused. “What? They’re just having a lover’s spat? So the whole ‘wife’ thing was fake?” “Young people love drama, but you shouldn’t joke about marriage! On a day like this, it’s bad luck!” I ground my teeth together, a fiery rage surging up my throat. Just as I was about to fire back, Sarah suddenly threw her arms around me in a tight embrace. She looked up at me, her eyes curving into a sweet smile: “Owen, be good. We’re getting married. This time, I won’t let any ‘accidents’ ruin our wedding.” Seeing that she was about to literally drag me into the bridal limo, I struggled violently: “Sarah, let me go! Get off me!” I shouted in fury, but Sarah ignored me, shoving me toward the open car door. Just as the door was about to slam shut. The next second, a familiar voice rang out: “What exactly are you doing?”

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After my biological daughter was kidnapped, my husband suggested we adopt a little girl to heal our family. But on the exact day we finally found and brought my biological daughter back home, bizarre floating text began appearing in my vision. [Oh god, it’s one of those ‘Fake vs. Real Daughter’ stories! I know this trope. The parents and the older brother are going to blindly favor the adopted daughter and literally drive the real daughter to her death. And only after the real daughter dies will they suddenly ‘realize their mistake’ and suffer from endless, useless regret.] [I absolutely despise this toxic tragedy trope! It’s so emotionally manipulative!] [The poor little real daughter. She probably thinks coming back to her biological parents means she’ll finally be happy, but she’s just walking into another hellhole…] I thought the floating text was some kind of absurd hallucination. But then, my eight-year-old son, Liam, pointed a finger directly at my newly returned daughter and screamed: “Chloe is my only sister! I hate you!” My husband, Mark, holding our adopted daughter, Chloe, gave Liam a half-hearted, toothless reprimand. “Liam, Lily is your sister too. You can’t talk to her like that.” Liam yelled back defiantly, “I don’t care! I hate her!” Lily, my biological daughter, looked at Liam, then at me. Her large eyes slowly welled up with tears. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped, shouting loudly, “Liam! Stop talking nonsense right now!” Liam stubbornly glared at me, refusing to back down. “I don’t care! I will never accept her as my sister! Chloe is my only sister!” I was so furious I wanted to slap some sense into him. Mark awkwardly tried to smooth things over. “Honey, calm down. Liam is just throwing a childish tantrum. He’s just saying things. We just need to guide him slowly.” I was disgusted by Mark’s dismissive attitude. But when I looked down and saw Lily’s red, tear-filled eyes, I immediately crouched down and pulled her into my arms. “It’s okay, baby. If you want to cry, just cry. Mommy will always love you.” Lily pressed her lips together tightly. She looked at me, clearly wanting to cry but too terrified to actually let the tears fall. It broke my heart into a million pieces. Right then, our adopted daughter, Chloe, ran over and hugged my leg. “Chloe wants Mommy to hug her too.” I looked down. Chloe was staring up at me with big, pitiful eyes. Just as I was feeling a brief pang of conflict, the floating text appeared again: [Look at this! The fake daughter plays the victim, and the mom’s heart is already softening! So frustrating!] [The fake daughter is so gross. Before she transmigrated into this world, she was literally a woman in her twenties! Now she’s acting like a toddler, fighting a five-year-old for attention.] [Don’t worry, she won’t just fight for attention. She’s going to constantly frame the real daughter until everyone hates her. Eventually, the real daughter will either commit suicide in despair or die of a terminal illness.] I stared intently into Chloe’s eyes. Sure enough, beneath the facade of childhood innocence, I caught a fleeting, calculated gleam of manipulation. My blood ran cold. “Chloe, Mommy is holding your sister right now, I don’t have a free hand. Go ask Daddy to hold you.” A dark, resentful look flashed across Chloe’s eyes, but she masked it instantly. Playing the role of the rejected, heartbroken child, she whispered, “Okay, Mommy.” Mark was furious with how I handled it. His face dark, he marched over and scooped Chloe up into his arms. Chloe seemed incredibly wronged. She wrapped her arms around Mark’s neck and began to cry softly against his shoulder. Mark looked at her with intense pity, and the glare he shot me was filled with deep resentment. Liam marched over to me, angrily demanding, “Mom, why wouldn’t you hug Chloe?!” Looking at his entitled, self-righteous expression, my heart turned to ice. “Can’t you see my hands are full?” “Then you shouldn’t be hugging her!” Liam screamed, violently grabbing Lily and trying to physically drag her out of my arms. “You annoying freak! Get down! You’re not allowed to let my mom hug you!” Lily was terrified. She instinctively threw her arms around my neck, clinging to me for dear life. I exploded. I slapped Liam’s hands away and roared, “LIAM!” Liam was stunned by my scream. A second later, he burst into loud, wailing sobs. Chloe wriggled out of Mark’s arms, ran over, and spread her arms wide, positioning herself protectively in front of Liam. “Mommy, if you don’t like me, that’s fine, but please don’t hit my brother!” Empowered by Chloe’s defense, Liam cried even louder, screaming at me, “I don’t want you! You’re a bad mom! You’re a bad mom!” Chloe turned around, hugged Liam, and started “sobbing” hysterically with him. “Don’t cry, brother! I love you the most!” Mark shot me a furious, disgusted glare. He walked over, kneeling down to wrap one arm around Liam and the other around Chloe. His eyes were overflowing with heartbreak for them. Both kids buried their faces in his chest, weeping as if they had been brutally abused. I looked at my biological daughter, Lily, who was biting her lip, desperately trying to suppress her own tears. My heart physically ached for her. [Honestly, the transmigrator’s acting is a bit over the top…] [I get that the brother is only eight and can’t tell he’s being manipulated, but how is the dad this stupid?] [The most surprising thing here is that the mom hasn’t lost her mind yet. I’m actually a little shocked…] [It’s just temporary. Following the standard trope, the mom will inevitably take the fake daughter’s side eventually.] [Giving the real daughter hope and then ripping it away… that’s even more cruel…] I had already made my choice, but now was not the time to put all my cards on the table. “Finding your biological daughter and immediately abandoning your adopted daughter” was a narrative that would get me crucified by the internet mob. Furthermore, I was currently under review for a massive promotion at work. I couldn’t afford to be impulsive. I had to wait until I could execute a flawless exit strategy before making a move. After all the kids were asleep, Mark and I returned to our master bedroom. Mark immediately adopted a patronizing, lecturing tone. “I know your heart aches for Lily, but Chloe is our daughter too. You can’t just ignore Chloe’s feelings just because you feel guilty about Lily.” I looked up at him, my voice completely flat. “So, in order to protect Chloe’s feelings, I should just neglect the daughter we literally just found and brought home?” Mark was momentarily speechless. I continued, “Do you have any idea how much Lily suffered with her adoptive family?” Mark stammered, unable to form a sentence. I pressed on. “She’s five years old. She was forced to take care of their younger kids. They starved her, dressed her in rags, and beat her constantly.” My voice began to shake with barely contained rage. “Are you blind?! Did you not see how malnourished she is?! Did you not see the bruises and scars covering her entire body?!” Mark opened his mouth, closed it, and finally muttered, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it through. You’re right, we should be more mindful of Lily’s feelings and emotional state.” I took a deep breath, forcing down my surging emotions and tears. “You didn’t just ‘not think it through.’ You are blatantly biased!” When he was glaring at me while hugging Liam and Chloe, he was resenting Lily just as much as he was resenting me. Thinking of this, my resolve solidified. If I wanted to give Lily a happy, stable life, I had to get her far away from these three toxic people! A flash of guilt crossed Mark’s face. He forced a placating smile, walked over, and tried to hug me. “Don’t be mad, honey. I know I was wrong. I promise I’ll be completely fair from now on. I’ll treat all three kids exactly the same.” I didn’t believe a single word coming out of his mouth. But right now wasn’t the time to tear the family apart. “I hope you mean what you say.” Mark swore up and down, “Absolutely! I promise!” I didn’t respond. Mark leaned down to kiss me. I turned my head, avoiding his lips. “Lily just got back, she has severe attachment issues. I’m going to sleep in her room with her for a while. You go to sleep.” Mark’s face instantly went cold, but he suppressed his anger. “Fine.” [The dad is a lost cause, but it seems like the mom might actually be salvageable.] [Agreed. I just hope the mom stays firmly on the real daughter’s side. Please don’t let the real daughter experience maternal love just to stab her in the back later. That would be devastating.] [I wouldn’t get my hopes up. This is a tragic family drama trope. There’s no way the real daughter gets a happy ending.] [Noooo! Can’t we break the trope?! A powerhouse mother-daughter duo would be so good!] Don’t worry. I’ll give you the powerhouse mother-daughter duo you want to see. My job is incredibly demanding. I didn’t have the time to watch the three kids 24/7. To ensure Lily wasn’t bullied when I wasn’t around, I hired an elite, professional nanny specifically dedicated to caring for and tutoring Lily. Mark complained that it was “unfair” to the other kids. Liam complained that I was playing favorites. Chloe, on the other hand, didn’t say a word. She just constantly looked at me with those big, wounded, pitiful eyes, manipulating Mark and Liam into aggressively defending her against my “injustice.” I ignored all of them. Chloe, predictably, couldn’t sit still. Within a few days, the nanny secretly reported to me that Chloe was constantly trying to subtly sabotage and trip up Lily. Her level of manipulation and scheming was entirely inconsistent with a five-year-old. Because her body contained the soul of an adult woman in her twenties. Of course she wasn’t a normal five-year-old. To avoid tipping my hand, I didn’t expose her. I continued to play the role of the impartial, perfectly fair mother. On the surface, Mark also maintained the illusion of treating them equally. Before I knew it, a month had passed. One Monday morning, I went into my home office to grab some documents for work, only to find a highly classified contract covered in messy crayon scribbles. It was obviously done by a child. Chloe glanced at Lily, then spoke up, sounding incredibly “conflicted.” “Mommy, yesterday afternoon… I saw Lily go into your office.” Liam froze for a second, then immediately jumped in to back her up. “Mom! I saw her too! She definitely drew all over your papers!” Lily panicked, tears springing to her eyes. “Mommy, I didn’t draw on your papers! I promise!” I picked Lily up and kissed her forehead. “Don’t cry. Mommy believes you. Besides, Mommy has digital backups. It doesn’t matter if the paper got drawn on.” Lily looked at me through her tears, her eyes wide with disbelief. She seemed stunned that I actually trusted her. I kissed her soft cheek again. “Mommy will always believe her baby.” After spending the last month together, Lily had begun to trust me. Overwhelmed, she buried her face in my shoulder and began to quietly sob. I comforted her patiently until she calmed down, then set her back on the floor. “Baby, Mommy has to go to work now. I’ll see you tonight.” Lily took a deep breath, nodding bravely. “Okay! See you tonight, Mommy.” Liam stomped his foot in fury. “Mom, you’re so biased! She ruined your stuff and you didn’t even punish her!” Chloe stayed quiet, but her facial expression clearly showed she agreed with Liam. My gaze swept over Chloe, then landed on Liam’s indignant, self-righteous face. “You’re right. Mistakes absolutely must be punished. And lying is no exception.” Liam instantly went dead silent, his face flushing a bright, guilty red. Because Chloe possessed the mind of an adult, she only allowed a micro-expression of guilt to flash across her face before perfectly masking it, looking at Liam with manufactured, innocent confusion. I had to get to the office, so I didn’t say anything else. I worked late that night, not getting home until past 9:00 PM. The moment I walked through the door, I saw Lily being forced to stand in the corner for a “time-out.” The nanny was standing nearby, looking incredibly anxious and helpless. Meanwhile, Mark was holding Chloe, comforting her, while Liam was making silly faces to make Chloe laugh. I froze for a second before an intense, blind rage flared in my chest. The nanny looked at me, her expression fraught with difficulty. I suppressed my fury and spoke calmly. “Ms. Lee, please take Lily up to her room.” The nanny nodded in relief. “Right away, ma’am.” Mark set Chloe down. His face dark with anger, he stood up and marched toward me. “We need to talk in my office.” I nodded. “Fine.” The moment the office door clicked shut, Mark launched his attack. “Sarah, I know you feel bad for Lily, but there is a limit to how much you can spoil a child! Do you have any idea what Lily did today?!” I replied coldly, “The crayon drawings? Lily didn’t do that.” Mark was furious. “Of course I’m not talking about that! Lily pushed Chloe today! She pushed her so hard Chloe hit her head on the coffee table and got a massive bruise!” I frowned. Not because I thought Lily pushing someone was acceptable, but because I knew with absolute certainty that Chloe had orchestrated the entire thing. [The transmigrator is so evil! She literally used the mom’s patience to provoke the real daughter into lashing out!] [And the real daughter barely even touched her! The transmigrator threw herself onto the coffee table on purpose!] [I’m so scared the mom is going to believe Chloe!] Believe Chloe? Not in a million years! Even without the floating text giving me the script, I would never believe Lily was at fault! I looked Mark dead in the eye. “Did you even bother to ask Lily why she pushed her?” Mark choked on his words for a second. “It doesn’t matter why! She shouldn’t be pushing people! And you had no right to end her punishment early!” He paused, his tone hardening. “And I don’t believe a word she says anyway!” Faced with his blatant, unapologetic bias, I felt surprisingly little emotion. “From now on, you are not allowed to interfere in anything involving Lily. I will handle her discipline entirely on my own.” Mark stared at me in disbelief. “What does that mean? You’re forbidding me from parenting Lily?!” I nodded. “Yes.” Mark looked at me like I had lost my mind. “Sarah, you are becoming completely unreasonable!” I scoffed. “Glad you noticed. So keep your unsolicited parenting advice to yourself!” Chloe was standing right outside the office door. When I walked out, she immediately looked up at me with huge, tear-filled eyes. “Mommy, it’s my fault for making Lily mad. Please don’t be angry with her.” Looking at her sickeningly fake, hypocritical face, I wanted nothing more than to rip her mask off right then and there. But I forced myself to hold back. The timing still wasn’t right. I crouched down and gave her a look of deep “affection,” pulling her into a hug. “Thank you for being so understanding, Chloe. Mommy is very happy.” Chloe looked at me with carefully orchestrated hesitation. “Mommy… do you not like me anymore?” If I didn’t know she had a rotten, manipulative core, I probably would have been fooled by her Oscar-worthy performance. I gently rubbed her head, my voice dripping with “sympathy.” “How could you say that? You and Liam are Mommy’s babies too. It’s just that your sister just got home, so Mommy needs to give her a little extra attention to help her adjust.” Chloe nodded “obediently.” “I understand, Mommy.” I looked incredibly “relieved.” “Mommy is so glad you understand.” After perfectly executing my performance with Chloe, I went straight to Lily’s room. Lily had already fallen asleep, comforted by the nanny. I walked over, kissed her soft cheek, and whispered a quiet promise. “I’m sorry, baby. Just endure this for a little while longer. It will all be over soon.” [Holy crap, that scared me! I thought the mom actually flipped sides for a second. Thank god she’s just acting!] [I’m so curious why the mom suddenly got so smart. Not only is she fiercely protecting her real daughter, but she saw right through the fake daughter’s act.] [Did the mom regress to her past life?] [Maybe. But it doesn’t really fit the regression trope.] [The reason doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that she is protecting our little main character!] Of course I’m going to protect my daughter. I knew Chloe wasn’t going to stop her sabotage, so I instructed the nanny to just focus entirely on keeping Lily physically safe. Nothing else mattered. After that incident, the house was relatively peaceful for a few days. Then, Saturday arrived. I had a major project deadline, so I went into the office early. Around noon, just as I was getting ready to eat lunch, the nanny called. She said Chloe had “fallen” down the stairs from the second floor. Chloe was screaming that Lily had pushed her. The nanny had been in the bathroom at the time, so she didn’t actually see what happened. I told the nanny to keep Lily safe and absolutely forbid anyone from punishing her. I hung up the phone and casually finished my entire workday before taking a leisurely drive home. The second I walked through the front door, Mark hurled the TV remote directly at my head. I dodged it. Mark pointed his finger at my nose, screaming in pure rage. “Sarah, are you even human?!” “Your child gets severely injured, and you don’t even bother to call and check on her?! What kind of mother are you?!” “Do you have any idea that Lily almost killed Chloe today?!” “You refuse to discipline her, and you forbid me from doing it. Are you trying to raise a literal murderer?!” I took a deep breath. “Mark. Chloe claimed Lily pushed her, and you just blindly believed it?” Mark yelled back, utterly convinced he was right. “If she didn’t push her, did Chloe just throw herself down a flight of stairs?!” “Let me make this perfectly clear, Sarah. If you continue to blindly protect that psychopath, we are getting a divorce!” Liam immediately chimed in. “Dad! I don’t want Mom! I want to stay with you and Chloe!” Mark looked at Liam with deep pride. “I only want Liam and Chloe anyway!” I let out a cold laugh. “Fine by me.” I turned around and started walking up the stairs. Mark ground his teeth, shouting at my back. “You’re going to regret this, Sarah!” I didn’t pause for a single second. Regret what? The only thing he could do was try to ruin my reputation by claiming I protected my “abusive” biological daughter while neglecting my adopted one. Try to sabotage my career. [The mom is being so careless! She knows the fake daughter is evil, why didn’t she just install hidden cameras in the house?!] Who said I didn’t?

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I was retouching my makeup when a colleague suddenly tapped me on the shoulder. “That lipstick looks exactly like the one I lost a couple of days ago.” Everyone in the open-plan office stopped what they were doing and turned to look. I calmly put the lipstick away. “Really? Then I better keep a close eye on mine.” “Wouldn’t want yours to turn up right when mine goes missing.” Chapter 1 1 “What is that supposed to mean?!” Brooke Davis’s voice spiked, unable to hide the surge of fury in her eyes. “I just saw it was the same shade and made a passing comment.” “Was there any need to get so passive-aggressive?” “I didn’t say you took my lipstick, but acting like this makes you look incredibly guilty!” I curled my lip slightly. “Right, you didn’t explicitly name me as the thief who stole your lipstick.” “But with all your insinuation and subtext, aren’t you just trying to make everyone here believe that I did?” Brooke was rendered speechless by my retort, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. She probably hadn’t expected me to completely ignore the usual script. I didn’t rush to prove my innocence; instead, I directly attacked her motivation. “I… I didn’t mean it like that!” She tried to defend herself in a panic. But in the next second, she seemed to find her confidence again. She intentionally emphasized her words, her tone dripping with a sense of superiority. “This lipstick is a limited-edition shade I specifically brought back from Europe. You can’t even buy it in this country.” “No one in the office ever used this shade before, yet right after mine goes missing, you start wearing it. Even if I suspect you, isn’t that reasonable?” I raised an eyebrow, countering her slowly and deliberately. “It’s limited edition, but there’s still an ‘edition,’ right?” “Does ‘limited’ mean only you, Brooke Davis, are allowed to buy it? I can’t own one? Your logic is truly fascinating.” My words caused several colleagues who had been silent to chuckle under their breath. Brooke’s expression became even uglier. Just then, a female colleague at the next cubicle over, who was on good terms with Brooke, stood up to play the peacemaker. “Alright, let’s not fight. It’s not worth ruining office harmony over something this small.” “Audrey, since you say you bought the lipstick yourself and didn’t take Brooke’s, why don’t you just show everyone the receipt? That would clear up the misunderstanding, right?” Brooke immediately chimed in, her tone aggressive. “Exactly! You say you bought it, then show us the proof! Unless, of course, you can’t!” The gaze of the entire office focused on me again, pressuring me. I smiled. “Brooke, let’s get one thing straight.” “Right now, you are the one accusing me.” “Based on the principle of ‘innocent until proven guilty,’ the burden of proof is on you.” “First, you prove that this specific tube of lipstick is yours. Then, and only then, will we discuss anything else.” I intended to disrupt her rhythm and force her to follow my logic. Brooke stunned for a moment, then her chest began to heave with rage. “Fine! You want proof? I’ll give you proof!” She glared at me fiercely, pulled out her phone, and tapped aggressively on the screen. Very quickly, she held up her phone. The screen clearly displayed an order confirmation for an international personal shopper service. “See that?!” She held the phone screen out for everyone to see, her voice boasting. “This is my purchase record.” “Where’s yours? If you can’t produce it, it means you’re hiding something.” 2 People around us began to nod, as if they had already passed a verdict of “guilty” on me. I ignored their looks, calmly pulled out my own phone, and pulled up a text conversation with a friend. “I actually didn’t buy this lipstick myself,” I said frankly, displaying my phone screen to everyone. On the screen, the conversation between my friend and me was clearly visible. “This was a gift from a friend.” I pointed to the timestamp on the chat record; it was from a week ago. It showed messages my friend had sent while traveling, saying she had specifically picked up this lipstick as a surprise for me. The expressions around the room shifted from doubt to understanding. “Looks like it really was just a misunderstanding. It was a gift.” “Exactly. Audrey doesn’t seem like she’s strapped for cash; why would she steal?” “Brooke was a bit too sensitive this time. Maybe she’s just in a bad mood because she lost something.” “She’s never gotten along with Audrey anyway. You don’t think she did this on purpose, do you?” The atmosphere in the office instantly became strained. People whispered among themselves. The suspicion originally directed at me dissipated instantly, replaced by judgment aimed at Brooke. Someone started advising her. “Brooke, since it’s a misunderstanding, you should apologize to Audrey.” “Yeah, you were a bit harsh with your words earlier.” Brooke bit her lip tightly, not saying a word. Asking her to apologize to me was probably harder than asking her to swallow glass. She took a deep breath, attempting one final struggle. “My lipstick really is gone! We have had professional disagreements, but I wouldn’t make something like this up!” “I lost something, and she just happens to be using the exact same kind. It’s normal for me to get confused!” Her logic was that her “misunderstanding” was excusable. I put my phone away and crossed my arms, mimicking the exact posture she had used moments ago. “Okay. So?” I countered calmly. “The misunderstanding is cleared up now. Facts prove I didn’t take your things.” “You need to formally apologize right now for publicly slandering me in front of everyone.” Brooke’s face was a map of conflict and reluctance. 3 Just as she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, a male voice rang out. “I don’t think this situation is that simple.” Caleb Stone stood up from his seat. He had just been transferred to our department a few months ago, and no one knew him very well. Nobody expected him to speak up at this moment. In an instant, every eye in the room snapped toward him. He pushed up his glasses, walked slowly into the middle of the room, his expression serious. “Text records can be easily faked, can’t they?” With his opening statement, he directly invalidated my evidence. I narrowed my eyes at Caleb. He didn’t look at me, but spoke to the surrounding colleagues instead. “A few days ago, around noon on Tuesday, most people had gone to the cafeteria. I came back to grab something and saw Audrey standing right by Brooke’s desk.” “There were barely any people in the office then, so I didn’t think much of it.” “But looking back now, her demeanor… seemed a little sneaky.” He was very precise with his wording: “seemed,” “sneaky.” Highly suggestive. “And, let’s not forget, the nominations for the department manager promotion are coming out next month.” “Audrey and Brooke are the two strongest contenders in our department.” “At a time like this, if a scandal about stealing broke out involving one of them, what kind of blow would that be to her career?” He surveyed the room, his voice not loud, but carrying a tone of seeing through everything. “So, is it possible—” “That someone deliberately set this whole thing up? They obtained the lipstick first, forged a text thread, and then intentionally used it today to bait Brooke.” “The goal being to destroy a rival’s reputation during the critical promotion window.” “To make everyone think Brooke is petty and casually accuses colleagues, thereby rallying people to their side and locking in support early.” 4 Caleb finished his speech. A collective gasp of realization rippled through the crowd. “My god, is corporate competition really this cutthroat?” “Playing dirty tricks like that is disgusting!” “I always thought Audrey was quiet, turns out she’s got deep schemes.” “There’s nothing more toxic than a catfight. This is why women can’t be leaders!” Everyone settled in with a spectator mentality, waiting to see how I would handle this. Normally, the person who should be the most smug, the one to immediately jump on this bandwagon, would be Brooke. As long as she nodded along with Caleb’s words, I wouldn’t be able to clear my name even if I had a hundred mouths. Yet, she didn’t look smug. She just frowned deeply, looking at Caleb, her eyes filled with complexity. On the other hand, amidst the wave of chatter turning against me, Caleb calmly pushed up his glasses. A faint smile of satisfaction touched the corner of his mouth. I took all of this in, finding it absurd yet hilarious. I looked up at him and spoke directly. “Oh my god, seriously, guy?” “Brooke and I—two women—are bickering over a stupid tube of lipstick, and you, a grown man, jump out to insert yourself? Trying to act like you’re some genius profiler?” “And you’ve got it all painted out so vividly. Saw me by Brooke’s desk on Tuesday at noon? Are your eyes connected to the security cameras, or did you just hallucinate that?” “Let me tell you, on Tuesday at noon, I wasn’t even in the office.” I took a step forward, staring him down. “Furthermore, even if Brooke and I are professional rivals, I, Audrey Miller, will only win based on merit. Playing low-class, underhanded tricks like that? I’d be worried about dirtying my hands.” “But you, on the other hand.” I shifted the attack, my voice turning icy cold. “An outside hire who’s barely been in the department for two months, and you’re already this desperate to pick a side and muddy the waters.” “Escalating a personal disagreement between Brooke and me into a promotion conspiracy theory.” “Did you really think we couldn’t see your desperate desire to snatch that manager position?” Those words were like a resounding slap in the face to Caleb. His expression twisted instantly, a flash of panic darting through his eyes. He stammered in defense: “You… you’re lying! I saw it with my own eyes! You say you weren’t here, but who can prove that?” That question hit a nerve, and the surrounding people began to whisper among themselves. “Yeah, there needs to be proof.” “Just saying you weren’t here isn’t convincing.” “Audrey, I remember asking you to go to lunch on Tuesday, and you said you weren’t going. You were left in the office.” 5 In that nearly frozen atmosphere, a voice rose that no one expected. “I can prove it.” The speaker was Brooke Davis. For a moment, everyone was stunned, including Caleb. Chapter 2 He looked at Brooke in disbelief: “Brooke, you…” Brooke ignored him. She took a deep breath, as if she had made a difficult resolution. Her cheeks flushed an unnatural shade of red, and she darted her eyes away, not daring to look at anyone. Under the prodding and questioning gazes of the crowd. She used almost all her strength to get the words out completely. “On Tuesday at noon, everyone had gone to lunch. In the office… there was only me and her.” “That day… I had an emergency with my period. It stained my white skirt.” As soon as these words came out, an uproar erupted in the office. The faces of several female colleagues softened with understanding and sympathy. Brooke’s face grew even redder, and she gripped the hem of her jacket. “At the time… Audrey was the only person left in the office. She saw it, didn’t say anything, and just… just went out and bought me pads and a new pair of pants.” “Audrey, I’m sorry.” “The lipstick… I probably just misplaced it myself somewhere. I shouldn’t have suspected you.” Finishing her sentence, she turned and ran quickly out of the office. The colleagues who had been righteously accusing me moments ago now looked at each other, their expressions awkward and complex. “Cough, looks like it was all just a misunderstanding.” “I told you so. We’re colleagues; why would there be so much plotting?” “Someone just intentionally steered the conversation. It was a small thing to begin with; glad it’s cleared up.” Caleb Stone had become the sole clown in this farce. He cleared his throat, forcing a smile that looked more painful than crying, and said to me: “Um… looks like I saw wrong. Audrey, I’m really sorry. Be the bigger person and don’t take it to heart.” I gave him a cold look and let out a light huff. “A grown man, spreading gossip everywhere without knowing the truth. Acting like a little office busybody… it’s a pathetic look.” After saying that, I ignored him, lowered my head, and continued with my work. I originally thought this matter ended there. After all, Brooke and I argued constantly, clashing over work priorities every other day—it was our normal state. We didn’t actually have a bad relationship; we weren’t genuine enemies. Our work philosophies just frequently diverged, leading to arguments whenever our opinions didn’t align. We’d argue and then drop it, never truly holding a grudge. But I never dreamed that someone would use this little friction between Brooke and me as a tool for corporate warfare.

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In the fall of 1982, my husband, Captain Arthur Hayes, was awarded a Meritorious Service Medal. The base hosted a massive twelve-table banquet to celebrate. No one bothered to tell me. By the time I rushed back, the banquet was long over, and there wasn’t a single scrap of food left on the stove. Sarah, the widow of his fallen squadmate, was sitting in our living room, sipping from a steaming bowl of homemade chicken stew. Her daughter was happily chewing on a piece of saltwater taffy. My own daughter was squatting by the kitchen door, gnawing on a stale, cold biscuit. Arthur cast a cold glance my way. “You’re finally back? Sarah is due any day now. Go wash up and help her.” In my past life, I wouldn’t have dared to disobey. Because he was an officer. Because my mother-in-law used “Christian charity” and “family duty” to crush my spirit. Because Sarah was a Gold Star widow, and the entire base had babied her. I spent twenty years serving them, until I was lying in a hospital hallway, dying of stage-four stomach cancer. That was when I finally heard the whispers from the nurses. Both of Sarah’s children belonged to Arthur. When I died, he didn’t even show up. Living a second time, I crouched down, took the cold biscuit out of my daughter’s hands, and handed her a fresh cupcake I had bought in town. Then I stood up. “Arthur, I want a divorce.” The living room fell dead silent. The bowl of chicken stew in Sarah’s hands hit the edge of the table, spilling halfway. The little girl riding on Arthur’s shoulders burst into loud wails. Arthur set the child down, handed her to Sarah, and took long strides toward the kitchen door. He was in his dress uniform, the top two buttons undone. He was frowning at me, looking exactly as he had in my past life. “What did you just say?” “A divorce.” I didn’t back down. I crouched to wipe the frosting off Chloe’s mouth. “I think I spoke clearly enough.” Arthur froze for three seconds, then let out a cold laugh. “Eleanor, have you lost your mind?” My mother-in-law, Martha, stormed out of the back room, holding a freshly baked pie meant for Sarah. “Divorce? You think you can just marry into the Hayes family and leave whenever you please?” I ignored her. I stood up, brushed the dust off my knees, and looked Arthur dead in the eye. In my past life, I had cried, screamed, and begged on my knees in front of this man. His response was always an impatient rub of his temples, as if I were nothing but a nuisance. “I’m going to the county courthouse tomorrow.” I took Chloe’s little hand and walked toward the door. Arthur grabbed my arm, his grip so tight my bones ached. In my past life, I would have endured it. He was a soldier, a decorated hero. The whole town said I was lucky to bag a man like him. What else could I do but endure? This time, I violently wrenched my arm free. “Touch me again, and I’m walking straight into the Base Commander’s office.” Arthur froze completely. He cared about that uniform more than his own life. I had never used it to threaten him before. He couldn’t believe those words came out of my mouth. Sarah hurried out of the living room holding her child, her eyes red. Her voice was soft and sickeningly sweet. “Eleanor, is this because of me? If I’m making you unhappy, I’ll pack my bags and go.” In my past life, the moment she said that, Arthur would explode at me for being petty and jealous. Then Sarah would cry, Martha would yell at me, and the cycle would repeat infinitely. This time, I didn’t even bother to entertain her performance. I led Chloe out the front gate, leaving Martha’s curses and Sarah’s perfectly timed sobs behind me. Chloe looked up at me. “Mommy, where are we going?” “To Grandpa and Grandma’s house.” As we walked out of the neighborhood, I glanced back. Arthur was standing at the gate, silhouetted against the light. I couldn’t see his expression. He didn’t chase after us. Exactly as I expected. From the Hayes’ house to my parents’ farmhouse was a forty-minute walk down a dirt road. Halfway there, Chloe couldn’t walk anymore, so I crouched down and carried her on my back. A five-year-old child, and she was terrifyingly light. She weighed less than the backpack of books I had lugged back from the city. It was the same in my past life. She never had enough to eat or warm enough clothes. Any good thing that came into the house went straight to Sarah and her kid. I only fought back once. It was when Sarah’s daughter and Chloe both caught a high fever at the same time. There was only one bottle of Children’s Tylenol left in the house. Martha gave it all to Sarah’s kid. I carried my burning daughter and ran three miles to the clinic. By the time we got there, Chloe was having febrile seizures. When Arthur found out, what did he say? “Sarah’s child has a weaker constitution. As a mother, how can you not see the bigger picture?” That night, sitting in the yard holding Chloe, I realized for the first time that this marriage was hopeless. But hopeless or not, I couldn’t leave. Martha crushed me with family duty, the neighbors guilt-tripped me with Sarah’s “widow” status, and Arthur’s single phrase—”You’re being unreasonable”—could turn the whole base against me. I didn’t understand the law. I didn’t know how to file for divorce, or how military custody worked. Back then, aside from crying, I knew nothing. This life was different. I had studied for four years at the State Teachers College. Right before graduation, I secured a teaching contract at a high school in the city. In my past life, I gave up that contract for Arthur. I didn’t even mention it to him. The Dean told me he would hold the position until the end of the month. I had twelve days left. When we reached the farmhouse, my dad, Thomas, was chopping wood in the yard. Seeing me carrying Chloe, the axe almost slipped and hit his foot. “Ellie? Aren’t you supposed to be in the city?” “Dad, I’m divorcing Arthur.” My dad froze. The wood in his arms tumbled to the dirt. My mom, Mary, poked her head out of the kitchen. She beamed when she saw Chloe, but the second she processed the word “divorce,” the color drained from her face. “Are you crazy? Arthur is an officer! Half the girls in the county would kill for a husband like him—” “He’s keeping another woman and her kids in our house,” I said, cutting her off. I set Chloe down and nudged her toward the kitchen to find a snack, lowering my voice. “Let me come home.” My mom stood paralyzed. My dad slowly stood up straight, his face turning an iron-grey. “Is what you’re saying true?” “Every word.” There was a long silence. My dad drove his axe hard into a tree stump. “Mary, stop crying. Our girl is home. Fry up a chicken.” Early the next morning, I went to the county courthouse. It was a cramped room with two desks and faded posters on the wall. The clerk recognized me. “Eleanor, what brings you in?” “I need to file for divorce.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Your husband is Captain Hayes out at the base, right? Is he with you?” “Not yet. I want to know the process first.” The clerk flipped through a binder, looking uncomfortable. “A divorce requires both parties to sign, unless you want a drawn-out battle. He’s military, Eleanor. The courts around here favor the uniform. If he contests it, and you don’t have a lawyer, the judge won’t grant it. And he could sue for full custody.” The uniform. That uniform had locked me in a cage for a lifetime. But I had spent time in the college library looking up family law. The law protects the soldier, yes. But if the soldier has committed a major fault—that’s a different story. “What if the officer is at fault?” I asked. “For example, living in adultery.” The clerk’s hand stopped. He looked up. My expression was completely calm. He cleared his throat. “Do you… have proof?” I smiled, didn’t answer, and turned to walk out. Arthur would never agree to a divorce voluntarily. Not because he loved me. But because of his pride. A decorated officer getting dumped by his wife? It was a scandal. Furthermore, he needed me as his “legal wife” to serve as a smokescreen while he kept his mistress in the house. In my past life, I was that smokescreen. Used for twenty years, torn and tattered, and he couldn’t even be bothered to replace me. Only after I died did he finally make Sarah his legal wife. Standing outside the courthouse, I thought for a moment, then headed to the post office. I mailed two letters. One to the Dean at the college, confirming I would take the teaching position. The second to my college roommate, Joan. She worked at a radio station in the city, and her husband was a court clerk there. In my past life, I was too embarrassed to ask for help and carried all the suffering myself. This time, I understood: use the connections you have, borrow the strength you can. I wasn’t stealing or cheating; I was just refusing to be a victim. After mailing the letters, I stood on the post office steps. The August sun was merciless. Squatting outside the local diner across the street was a man in fatigues. Arthur’s aide, Private Miller. He jogged over, a fake smile plastered on his face, his tone dripping with condescension. “Mrs. Hayes, the Captain told me to give you a message. He says you need to hurry back. Sarah is about to pop, and the house can’t run without you.” In my past life, this was the guy who constantly badmouthed me to Arthur. “Your wife is so narrow-minded, Captain.” “Sarah has it so rough, why can’t your wife just be a little generous?” I looked at Private Miller and gave him a cold smile. “You go back and tell Arthur Hayes that if Sarah is having a baby, he needs to find a doctor, not me. I’m a teacher, not a midwife.” Miller’s mouth hung open. He choked on his words. I didn’t look at him again. I walked into the general store and bought a tin of premium coffee and a box of Carnation instant milk. The coffee for my mom. The milk for Chloe. From now on, I was only serving the people I cared about. Back at the farmhouse, I mixed a cup of warm milk for Chloe. She held the enamel mug with both hands, drinking it sip by sip. When she was done, she licked the rim clean. Watching her do that made my chest physically ache. In my past life, all the milk powder went to Sarah’s kid. Martha used to say, “That poor child has no father, we can’t let her starve.” But what about my Chloe? Her father was alive and well, yet she lived worse than an orphan. I crouched down and wiped the milk mustache off Chloe’s face. “Chloe, Mommy is going to take you to a place far, far away. There’s a giant school there, and lots of kids to play with. Do you want to go?” Chloe nodded eagerly. Then she hesitated. “Is Daddy coming?” “No.” “What about Auntie Sarah?” “Not her either.” Chloe thought for a second, put down the mug, and wrapped both her little arms around my neck. “Wherever Mommy goes, I go.” That afternoon, my dad went out for a while. When he came back, he had a canvas pouch in his hand. He opened it—a stack of cash. “This is the money we’ve been saving for your brother Sam’s wedding. You borrow it first. Pay me back once you’re settled in the city.” “Dad—” “Don’t be polite with your old man.” He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “I went to see Mr. Miller, the town accountant. His daughter works at the county office.” Scrawled on the paper was a name and an address. Women’s Legal Aid Society. Helen Carter. “Mr. Miller says finding this Director Helen is a lot more useful than you fighting the courthouse alone.” I gripped the piece of paper, my eyes burning. In my past life, my dad never knew the truth. He thought I had a good life. Even on his deathbed, he mumbled, “My Ellie married an officer… she’s living the good life.” In this life, I wouldn’t let him die carrying a lie. On the third day, I went to the Women’s Legal Aid Society. Helen was in her early forties, with a sharp bob cut. Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word had weight. I told her the entire story from beginning to end. No crying, no hysterics. Like giving a professional briefing, I laid out the dates, the people, the details. When I finished, Helen slammed her coffee mug onto the desk. “Son of a bitch.” She wasn’t cursing at me. “Eleanor, do you have proof?” “No physical proof yet. But Sarah’s husband, Sergeant Davis, was killed in action in February 1979. Her first child was born in March 1981.” “Unless she was pregnant for twenty-four months.” Helen’s pen stopped. She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know Davis’s exact date of death?” “When I was at college, I went to the state military archives and looked it up. I had my suspicions the first time Sarah moved into our house, but I was too much of a coward to face the truth.” Helen stared at me for a long time. “You’re a smart woman.” “But I was stupid for a whole lifetime,” I replied. Helen didn’t understand what I meant by that, but she didn’t pry. She stood up and pulled a manila envelope from her filing cabinet. “I’ll help you with the divorce. But you need to do something for me. Take this letter of introduction. Go to Sergeant Davis’s old base and pull his records. Get his death certificate and the child’s birth certificate. Once we have it in black and white, he won’t be able to deny a thing.” I nodded. “I’ll go.” “How long until your teaching offer expires?” “End of the month. Nine days.” “We have time.” Helen handed me the letter. “Come straight to me when you get back. I’ll go with you to the Base Commander.” I took the envelope, stood up, and gave her a deep bow. Helen waved her hand. “Don’t thank me. Your situation isn’t unique. There’s a lot of rot hidden under rugs in this county.” On the fourth day, I rode a Greyhound bus all day to reach Sergeant Davis’s old base. The man who received me was a Lieutenant Brooks. He read Helen’s letter and pulled the files. Black and white. Sergeant Davis. Killed in Action: February 17, 1979. Sarah’s eldest daughter: Born March 4, 1981. A gap of exactly two years and one month. I copied the dates into my notebook. Lieutenant Brooks watched me, his expression complex. “Why are you looking into this?” “Family matters.” He didn’t ask further. But as I got up to leave, he suddenly called out to me. “There’s something I don’t know if I should mention.” I stopped. Chapter 2 “When Sarah came to collect the survivor benefits years ago, an officer came with her. He claimed to be Davis’s squadmate. Last name was Hayes.” Brooks sighed. “Sarah was heavily pregnant at the time. This Hayes guy had his arm around her the entire time. We all assumed they were husband and wife.” I gripped my notebook, my knuckles turning white. In my past life, I had cowered in that house for twenty years. Everyone knew the truth, and I was the only one kept in the dark. “Thank you,” I said softly. The bus ride back was incredibly bumpy. Outside the window, endless stretches of dusty fields and sparse poplar trees rolled by. Leaning against the glass, I felt completely at peace. In my past life, learning the truth felt like the sky was caving in. In this life, these papers were just the bargaining chips for my freedom. I rushed back to town on the evening of the fifth day and went straight to Helen. She reviewed the documents I brought back and slapped the desk. “Ironclad.” “Day after tomorrow, we go see the Base Commander.” When I got back to the farmhouse, my mom told me Arthur had come by. “He brought that aide of his. Acting all fierce, demanding you go home immediately.” “And then what?” I asked. “Your dad chased him three blocks down the street with a pitchfork. Didn’t catch him, though.” I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. In my past life, when Arthur came to fetch me, my dad slaughtered our best chicken to welcome him. Because he thought his son-in-law was a respectable officer, his daughter’s pride and joy. In this life, he knew the truth. A pitchfork was much more fitting than a chicken. My mom sat by the stove, wiping her tears, muttering old sayings about how a married daughter is like spilled water—you can’t take her back. My dad, peeling an apple for Chloe, snapped back: “What spilled water? My daughter is a flowing river. If one pond is too small for her, she’ll just wash it away and keep moving.” Chloe took a bite of the apple and chimed in: “Grandpa is right! Mommy is a mighty river!” The whole room burst out laughing. It was the first genuine smile I had worn since my rebirth. On the seventh day, Helen took me to the base headquarters. We didn’t go to the Hayes house. We went straight to the chain of command. Colonel Vance was an older veteran in his fifties. After reading the documents, he sat in absolute silence for a long time. “Are you sure you want to take this step?” he asked, looking at me. “Captain Hayes was just awarded a commendation.” “Colonel, his medals belong to him, but his sins are his too,” I said. My voice wasn’t loud, but it didn’t shake. “One does not cancel out the other.” Helen added from the side: “The violation of military conduct and adultery are clear and proven. You can’t sweep this under the rug just because he has a medal.” Colonel Vance sighed and ordered someone to fetch Arthur. Twenty minutes later, Arthur pushed the door open. He obviously didn’t know I was there. The moment he saw me, his footsteps faltered. Then he saw Helen, and the documents spread across the Colonel’s desk. The color drained from his face, inch by inch. “Eleanor. You’re throwing a tantrum at Command HQ now?” His tone carried that suppressed, icy rage. In my past life, that tone would make my knees buckle. This time, I remained seated, perfectly still. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’m here to finalize our divorce.” “I refuse,” Arthur shot back, a conditioned reflex. Colonel Vance cleared his throat and pushed the files toward him. “Captain Hayes. Look at these yourself.” Arthur looked down. Whatever blood was left in his face vanished entirely. Davis’s KIA report. The birth certificate of Sarah’s child. The written testimony from Lieutenant Brooks at the old base. The timeline, in black and white. He looked up at me. His lips moved, but no sound came out. I had known Arthur Hayes for ten years. It was the first time I had ever seen this expression on his face. Not anger. Not impatience. It was the sheer terror of a man stripped naked in public. “When… when did you investigate this?” “Does it matter?” I asked. He opened his mouth, then suddenly turned to the Colonel, his voice dropping low. “Colonel, this is a private family matter, could we please—” “Captain Hayes.” Vance cut him off. He didn’t yell, but his voice was crushing. “Are you worthy of the medal pinned to your chest?” The office was dead silent for a full thirty seconds. Helen pulled the divorce papers from her briefcase and set them on the table. “Sign it,” I said. “We have nothing left to talk about.” Arthur didn’t sign it right away. He gripped the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. Finally, he forced the words through his teeth: “Give me two days.” I was about to refuse—in my past life, his “just wait a little longer” was always a stalling tactic, dragging things out until I softened, until I compromised. But Colonel Vance spoke up first. “Two days. Not a second more.” Helen looked at me. I nodded. Not because my heart was soft. But because I had five days left until the end of the month. I had plenty of time.

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