Category: English

When the estate attorney’s office called, I was in the middle of making oatmeal for my mother-in-law. The voice on the other end was polite and professional. “Is this Ms. Emma Davis? We need to verify some details regarding Mr. Robert Sterling’s will.” “The will?” I froze for a second. My father-in-law’s will had been finalized through probate two years ago. The developer buyout money for his old property was left to my husband, Mark. After Mark passed away, that inheritance legally defaulted to me and our daughter. “Yes. The will was recently amended. You are no longer listed as a beneficiary.” My hand, gripping the phone, stopped in mid-air. In the kitchen, the oatmeal bubbled and popped on the stove. From the living room, my mother-in-law yelled, “Is breakfast ready yet? I’m starving to death in here!” I didn’t move. I was no longer the beneficiary. Then who was? Free Chapters 1 ######################### Data Divider ######################### Chapter 1 When the estate attorney’s office called, I was in the middle of making oatmeal for my mother-in-law. The voice on the other end was polite and professional. “Is this Ms. Emma Davis? We need to verify some details regarding Mr. Robert Sterling’s will.” “The will?” I froze for a second. My father-in-law’s will had been finalized through probate two years ago. The developer buyout money for his old property was left to my husband, Mark. After Mark passed away, that inheritance legally defaulted to me and our daughter. “Yes. The will was recently amended. You are no longer listed as a beneficiary.” My hand, gripping the phone, stopped in mid-air. In the kitchen, the oatmeal bubbled and popped on the stove. From the living room, my mother-in-law yelled, “Is breakfast ready yet? I’m starving to death in here!” I didn’t move. I was no longer the beneficiary. Then who was? Mark passed away two years ago. A car crash. Rear-ended by a semi-truck on the interstate. The day the highway patrol called me, I was braiding my daughter’s hair. Lily was four years old at the time. She asked me, “Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?” I told her, soon. It was the cruelest lie I have ever told in my life. When Mark died, he left behind a house with a $350,000 mortgage, a four-year-old daughter, and a mother who needed constant care. My mother-in-law, Martha, was sixty-three. High blood pressure, bad knees. When Mark was alive, she lived in her own older house across town. Three days after Mark’s funeral, she showed up at my front door with two suitcases. “My son is gone. I’m living with you now.” It wasn’t a discussion. It was a notification. I didn’t refuse. At the time, I thought: She just lost her only son. I can’t turn her away. From that day on, my life turned into this: Wake up at 5:30 AM. Boil eggs and make oatmeal for Martha. Wake Lily up at 6:30 AM. Dress her, do her hair. Drop Lily off at preschool by 7:00 AM. Rush to work by 7:30 AM. During my lunch break, call Martha to ask if she ate and if she took her pills. Clock out at 5:30 PM. Rush to the grocery store. Pick up Lily by 6:00 PM. Get home by 6:30 PM. Cook dinner. Martha never cooked. “My knees are bad. I can’t stand for that long.” Martha never did laundry. “I don’t know how to use these new fancy machines.” Martha never cleaned the house. “My eyesight is going bad, I can’t see the dust.” After dinner, I would wash the dishes, mop the floors, help Lily with her learning exercises, and take Martha’s blood pressure. By 10:00 PM, Lily was asleep, and Martha was asleep. I would sit alone in the living room, open my phone, and calculate the budget. The mortgage was $1,800 a month. Lily’s preschool was $1,200 a month. Martha’s prescriptions were $300 a month. Utilities, water, and HOA fees were $400 a month. Groceries and household items were $800 a month. My take-home pay was $3,800 a month. $3,800 – $1,800 – $1,200 – $300 – $400 – $800 = -$700. Every single month, I was $700 in the red. Mark’s life insurance and the accident settlement came out to about $100,000. After paying $15,000 for the funeral, I had $85,000 left. Over the past two years, covering the monthly deficit and emergency expenses had drained almost $20,000. That $85,000 safety net had shrunk to $65,000. I had to borrow money from my coworkers three times. During my most desperate month, I only had $150 left in my checking account. A hundred and fifty bucks. To stretch until the end of the month. I never told anyone. Martha didn’t know. All she knew was that meals were served on time, her medicine was always refilled, the heat was on in the winter, and the AC was blasting in the summer. She never once asked me: “Do you have enough money?” Not even once. The news of the developer buyout broke last year. My late father-in-law, Robert, had left behind an old property on the south side of town. It was a tiny, run-down lot that had been sitting empty for years. Early last year, the city announced a massive commercial redevelopment project covering that entire district. The day the compensation offers were mailed out, Martha actually initiated a conversation with me. “Robert’s old place is getting bought out.” I hummed in response. “The developer is offering about 1.5 million dollars.” 1.5 million dollars. My heart skipped a beat. If we got that money, the mortgage could be paid off. I wouldn’t have to stress about Lily’s college fund. We could finally breathe. “You know what his dad’s will said,” Martha added. “It goes to Mark. Since Mark is gone, it goes to you and Lily.” I nodded. When my father-in-law passed away five years ago, the will was drawn up by a registered estate attorney. Black and white. The property and its equity were to be inherited by his son, Mark Sterling. Upon Mark’s death, by law, that inheritance would pass down to me and Lily. I thought this was a done deal. Completely ironclad. But the buyout process dragged on. Appraisals, surveys, signing endless agreements—it took over six months. During those six months, I noticed a subtle shift in Martha’s attitude. She started going out a lot. Before, she rarely left the house, complaining about her bad knees. Now, she was leaving two or three times a week, claiming she was “catching up with her church friends.” One day, I got off work early and saw her standing by the community gate, talking on her phone. Her voice was hushed. The second she saw me, she hung up immediately. “Who was that?” I asked casually. “Telemarketer.” She refused to look me in the eye. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Back then, I was so exhausted every day that all I wanted to do was crash into bed. I didn’t have the energy to monitor what my mother-in-law was up to. Until I got that call from the attorney’s office. The next day, I took a half-day off work and drove straight to the law firm. The man who received me was a young attorney with glasses, Mr. Hayes. “Ms. Davis, here is the situation. Mr. Robert Sterling’s will had an amendment notarized and filed three months ago.” “An amendment?” “Yes. The original beneficiary was Mark Sterling. The amended beneficiary is—” He flipped a page in his file. “Chloe Bennett.” Chloe Bennett. I searched my brain. I didn’t know anyone by that name. “Who is Chloe Bennett? What’s her relation to the Sterling family?” Mr. Hayes hesitated. “Well… we aren’t entirely sure. The amendment paperwork was submitted by proxy through Martha Higgins, utilizing a Power of Attorney supposedly granted by Robert Sterling, alongside an amendment application.” “Wait a minute.” My ears started ringing. “My father-in-law died five years ago. How could he grant a Power of Attorney three months ago?” Mr. Hayes pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “That is exactly why we contacted you.” He slid a document across the desk toward me. “During an internal audit, we noticed some red flags regarding the signature on this Power of Attorney. Mr. Robert Sterling’s signature here has glaring discrepancies compared to the signatures we have on file for him.” I looked down at the document. On the Power of Attorney form, my father-in-law’s name was written in a shaky, crooked scrawl. Robert had been an accountant. His handwriting was always pristine, sharp, and perfectly aligned. This signature looked like someone had clumsily traced it. “Are you saying—” “We suspect this Power of Attorney may be a forgery,” Mr. Hayes said gravely. “Therefore, we are required to verify this with the legal heirs listed in the original will.” Forgery. My hands began to tremble. 1.5 million dollars. Someone had forged my dead father-in-law’s signature to transfer $1.5 million from my husband to a woman named Chloe Bennett. And the person who processed this paperwork was my mother-in-law. I sat in the leather chair, my mind flashing to a single image— Just this morning, before I left for work, Martha had been lounging on the sofa watching TV. She had called out to me: “Pick up my blood pressure meds on your way home!” And I had said, “Okay.” It was this exact woman. Behind my back, she was trying to steal 1.5 million dollars and put it in a stranger’s name. I took a deep breath. “Mr. Hayes, is the original will still intact?” “It is. We have the original on file, and it maintains full legal authority. Because the amendment has been flagged for suspected fraud, it has been suspended indefinitely.” “I need a certified copy of the original will.” “Of course. I will have that drafted for you right away.” I put the certified copy in my purse. When I left the law firm, I didn’t go straight home. I stood on the sidewalk, pulled out my phone, and searched “Chloe Bennett.” Nothing useful came up. Then, I pulled out Mark’s old phone. I had kept it charged since the accident, mostly to save some of his photos and voicemails for Lily. I had never snooped through it. Now, I opened his text messages. I scrolled down, contact by contact. A. B. C. No Chloe. I kept scrolling through his message history. Twenty minutes passed. Then I froze. There was a contact saved as “CeeCee.” The very last text thread was from the day before Mark’s fatal crash. “Come over early tomorrow. I made your favorite roast.” Followed by a heart emoji. Mark had replied: “Sounds good, wifey.” Wifey. He called her wifey. I tapped into her contact profile and opened her linked Instagram page. Her profile picture was a cat. Her most recent post was from one month after Mark died. It was a black-and-white photo of a sky, captioned: “Missing you forever.” I kept scrolling down. Two years ago. Three years ago. Selfies. Long hair, round face, dimples when she smiled. Then, I found a photo of them together. Her and Mark. At a restaurant. Mark had his arm draped over her shoulder. He was grinning from ear to ear. The location tag under the photo: Oakwood Apartments. That date was my wedding anniversary. That was the night Mark had texted me saying he had to work late at the firm and couldn’t make it home. I stared at that photo. I stared at it for a long, long time. Then I clicked on her “About” section. Her email address was listed. chloebennett92@… Chloe. Bennett. 1.5 million dollars. This was the person my mother-in-law was trying to give the money to. My husband’s mistress. I didn’t go home. I drove straight to Oakwood Apartments. It was an older, slightly rundown complex about a forty-minute drive from my house. I parked and walked up to the directory board at the entrance. The security guard at the booth glanced at me. “Who are you looking for?” “Chloe Bennett.” “Chloe Bennett?” The guard scratched his head. “Building 3, Unit 402?” “Yes.” I had no idea why I confirmed it so confidently. But the guard nodded and buzzed me through the pedestrian gate. I walked up to the fourth floor. The door to 402 was painted white. A pair of men’s slippers sat on the welcome mat. Size 10. Mark was a size 10. I didn’t knock. I stood by the door and listened. I could hear the faint sound of a TV playing cartoons. And the sound of a toddler laughing. A toddler. My heart plummeted like a stone. I turned around and walked back down the stairs. Back in my car, I sat in silence for a very long time. Then, I made a phone call. Not to Martha. I called Sarah. Sarah was a clerk at the estate attorney’s office, and she happened to be the older cousin of one of my college friends. She was the one who helped process my father-in-law’s original will years ago. “Sarah, I need to ask you a huge favor.” “Shoot.” “Three months ago, when someone brought in a fake Power of Attorney to amend my father-in-law’s will… who was the clerk that handled it?” Sarah was silent for a moment. “Let me check the system.” Half an hour later, she called me back. “Emma, this is… it’s a bit complicated.” “Tell me.” “It was processed by a new guy, Kevin. He didn’t scrutinize the signature closely enough. But the proxy form also had a copy of Robert’s ID attached to it, along with a… Proof of Kinship document.” “What Proof of Kinship?” “A document proving Chloe Bennett’s relationship to the Sterling family.” “What relationship?” Sarah paused. “The document states that Chloe Bennett’s son, Leo Sterling, is the biological son of Mark Sterling.”

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Part 1 There were only two low-income students in our class: Lily and me. My family was struggling financially, but my grades were excellent, which qualified me for a significant scholarship. Because of this, I gave up my spot for the need-based grant, letting Lily have it. I never imagined that at the financial aid assembly, she would publicly accuse me of discriminating against her, claiming I used the grant to insult her dignity. Almost immediately, a post attacking me went viral on the school forum. Everyone was calling me a bully who picked on poor students. She demanded compensation for “emotional distress.” The school revoked my scholarship eligibility, and my family was forced to drain all our savings to pay her off. To make up for the lost money, my mother had to take on grueling shifts at a construction site day and night. She eventually collapsed from sheer exhaustion and passed out. After falling into a deep depression, I dropped out of school. Desperate to make ends meet, I worked night shifts. One rainy night, I was cornered and killed by a group of street thugs. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. My teacher’s voice snapped me back to reality: “Class President, this application form…” I didn’t wait for her to finish. I snatched the form from her hand and quickly signed my name. … Ms. Lee froze for a second, clearly not expecting this reaction. “Chloe, what are you doing…?” I looked up. The suffocating despair from my past life had crystallized into absolute, cold clarity. “Ms. Lee, my family’s financial situation meets the criteria for this grant. I’m submitting this application.” The classroom instantly fell silent. Several pairs of surprised eyes turned toward me. I could distinctly feel a piercing gaze burning into the back of my head from the left. It was Lily. The same girl I had yielded the grant to in my past life, the one who eventually pushed me into the abyss. Her eyes flashed with a barely concealed irritation, as if I had just stolen something that rightfully belonged to her. Ms. Lee gave a relieved nod. “Alright, Chloe. I’m glad you decided to step up and apply. Get your documentation together and bring it to me.” In my past life, Ms. Lee had urged me to sign this exact form. But back then, I thought my scholarship was enough. Overflowing with misplaced empathy, I stepped aside for Lily. That decision ultimately left me drowning in debt and cost me my entire family. When the bell rang, Lily walked over to my desk. Her eyes were red-rimmed, playing the part of someone who had suffered a massive injustice but was bravely holding back tears. “But Class President, you promised you were going to let me have the grant this time…” She spoke with such pathetic fragility, perfectly positioning herself as the helpless victim. I cut her off immediately. “Lily, I did ask you privately if you wanted me to help you apply for the grant.” I paused deliberately. “But when I asked you, didn’t you shake your head and firmly reject my offer?” “I respected your choice at the time. I assumed you genuinely didn’t need it. It was only after you explicitly turned it down that I decided to apply for it myself.” Lily clearly hadn’t anticipated that I would so accurately recall her moment of “fake pride.” “No, that’s not true! You knew I was just too embarrassed to accept it directly. How can you back out now and make me look bad?” I stared at her frantic, crumbling facade. “Lily, let me reiterate. I simply asked if you needed help, and you explicitly said no.” But almost immediately, Lily’s tears began to fall. As expected, a few classmates who were friendly with her couldn’t stand by and watch. “Chloe, that’s kind of messed up, don’t you think?” one girl spoke up first. “We all know a bit about Lily’s situation. She has a younger brother, and her family is really struggling. Didn’t you say you were going to let her have it?” “Yeah,” a guy chimed in, shooting me a condemning look. “Besides, you’re the Class President. You’re supposed to look out for your classmates. Snatching the spot and then cornering her like this… that’s really uncalled for.” “Exactly. Chloe, you’re in the wrong here. Lily just cares about her pride, that’s why she wears knockoff brands. We all know her family is broke.” A chorus of agreement echoed around the room. Suddenly, all the arrows were pointing at me. Lily stood to the side, her head bowed, looking even more small and defenseless. Facing these accusations, I didn’t panic and scramble to defend myself like I did in my past life. I just watched them quietly. I waited until the chatter died down slightly before speaking again: “To be honest, I don’t even recognize the brands Lily wears. Growing up, I’ve never had the opportunity to be around authentic designer items.” My voice was calm. I was merely stating a fact. “You all know her family is struggling. You all know she might be wearing knockoffs. But I didn’t. To me, the things she uses look expensive, and I don’t even understand the topics she talks about.” The classmates who had just been defending Lily were suddenly speechless. Lily was rendered completely mute by my response. Suddenly, she jerked up from her seat and wildly swept her arm across her desk. Crash! Her textbooks and pencil case scattered all over the floor. The next second, she threw herself onto her desk and began sobbing loudly, acting as if she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world. “Lily, please don’t cry.” “Quick, help her pick her stuff up.” The group that had been defending her immediately swarmed her, crouching down in a flurry to gather her scattered belongings. And naturally, I became the villain in their eyes. The bell rang for the next class. Just as the math teacher stepped through the door, Lily abruptly stood up. Without a word, she covered her face and bolted out of the classroom without looking back. “Hey, what’s going on with Lily?” The math teacher was taken aback by the sudden drama, looking confusedly at the class. A few students shot me subtle, accusatory glances. “What do you think? The Class President stole her financial aid spot, so she ran off crying…” The math teacher’s gaze immediately fell on me. I stood up. “Mr. Harris, I didn’t steal anything from anyone. If she wants the grant, she can go to the homeroom teacher and apply for it herself. Does being the Class President mean I lose my right to apply for financial aid?” Mr. Harris paused, clearly not wanting to get dragged into classroom drama. He waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, alright, settle down. Your homeroom teacher will handle this. If you want the grant, apply through her. Now, let’s start the lesson!” However, halfway through the class, Ms. Lee, our homeroom teacher, appeared at the door and signaled me. “Chloe, come to my office.” I knew exactly what this was about. Lily was pulling another stunt. As soon as I walked into the office, the atmosphere was suffocating. Lily was there, as expected, her eyes red and swollen from crying. But her carefully applied “no-makeup” makeup was gone, and the delicate necklaces and bracelets she constantly swapped out were nowhere to be seen. She was shrinking behind her parents, looking utterly victimized. Her parents—a middle-aged couple wearing plain clothes who genuinely looked worn down by life—exploded the second they saw me. Her mother, in particular, lunged forward: “So you’re the Class President? You vicious little bitch, what gives you the right to steal our Lily’s grant? Do you have any idea how hard our lives are?” Ms. Lee quickly stood up and blocked her path, her voice stern: “Mrs. Smith, please watch your language! This is a school office!” Facing the barrage of insults, I didn’t back down. Instead, I met the woman’s furious glare and let out a soft laugh. “Ma’am, my family is poor too.” My voice was quiet but firm. “This money doesn’t go to whoever yells the loudest or cries the hardest. If your family wants the grant, you need to submit the proper paperwork to the school. What’s the point of yelling at me?” I paused, then deliberately raised my voice in feigned surprise: “Oh, wow, Lily, what happened to those pretty necklaces and bracelets you usually wear every day?” At my words, Lily’s head snapped up, a flash of panic in her eyes. Her parents clearly froze as well. Ms. Lee took the opportunity to speak up again, her tone serious: “Mr. and Mrs. Smith, I hope you heard that. The grant requires verifiable documentation. It’s not awarded just because someone throws a fit.” “Chloe met all the requirements to apply. There is absolutely no issue with her application.” Seeing Ms. Lee try so hard to protect me, my heart felt warm, but also ached with a bittersweet pang. In my past life, she had tried just as hard to defend me. But eventually, the relentless pressure from the school administration and the online mob forced her to resign from the teaching career she loved. The moment Ms. Lee finished speaking, Lily’s mother’s face contorted in anger. “Don’t give us that bureaucratic garbage. We don’t understand your ‘paperwork.’ All we know is that this money belongs to our Lily, and now you’ve stolen it!” “If you don’t cough up that grant money today, then you can keep it! Keep it to buy your own medicine! With a heart as rotten as yours, karma will catch up to you!” Ms. Lee turned pale with fury. She slammed her hand on her desk. “You… how dare you speak to a student like that!” And me? Hearing that specific curse, my body gave an almost imperceptible flinch. It wasn’t fear. It was the sickening overlap of my past trauma bleeding into the present. The bitter taste of the medication my mother needed after working herself to the bone, the pills I swallowed when the depression consumed me… those memories flooded back, choking me. But I quickly steadied myself. “Ma’am, you’re cursing me to need medicine? How ironic. My mother worked herself into a hospital bed precisely because we couldn’t afford medicine.” “You keep screaming about how poor you are and how you need to fight for this money. Yet you can afford to let your daughter wear expensive-looking jewelry and full makeup to school every day?” My gaze shifted back to her parents. For the first time, I saw genuine hesitation on their faces. Lily jerked her head up, staring at me in terror, then looked frantically at her parents. Her lips trembled, but no words came out. Her mother’s aggressive posture finally deflated. Seizing the moment, Ms. Lee stepped forward. “I think you’ve heard enough. This isn’t about the grant anymore; this is about how you are raising your daughter.” “Now, please leave my office immediately. The grant applications will be processed according to school policy. If you continue this unreasonable behavior, or if you ever insult one of my students again, I will report this directly to campus security!” This time, the parents didn’t try to charge forward. As Lily’s mother shot me a final, resentful glare, a desperate, frantic voice rang out from the office door: “Chloe!” I whipped around and saw my mother’s slightly hunched figure standing in the doorway. She had clearly rushed over the second she got the call from Ms. Lee. “Mom,” I called out instinctively. My mother hurried into the room, not even pausing to greet the teacher. She immediately stepped in front of me, shielding me with her body. “We are not giving up that money. My daughter applied based on our actual financial situation. Why should she give it up?” Her gaze swept over the furious couple opposite us. “Buying medicine? We poor folks have tough skin. If we need it, we take it. But you two? Two grown adults ganging up to bully my daughter? Have you no shame?” Lily’s parents might have been able to throw a tantrum in front of a student, but faced with a mother fiercely protecting her cub, their bullying tactics seemed to vanish. Ms. Lee stepped forward again. “Mr. and Mrs. Smith, please leave immediately, or I will call security right now!” Lily’s father, losing face, grabbed his wife’s arm and pulled her toward the door, muttering curses under his breath. “Fine. You play dirty. We’ll see who karma hits first!” Finally, in a deeply uncomfortable silence, Ms. Lee escorted them out of the office. My mother immediately turned to me, looking me up and down anxiously. “Chloe, did they hit you? Did they say anything mean? Are you scared?” I looked at my mother’s worried face, at those eyes that had grown cloudy too early from years of grueling labor. I forced a reassuring smile. “Mom, I’m fine.” Ms. Lee walked over as well. “Mrs. Evans, please don’t worry. Chloe is an incredibly mature girl. She’s the best student in my class.” Hearing the teacher’s praise, my mother’s tense expression finally relaxed a bit. “Thank you, Ms. Lee. Thank you for protecting my Chloe…” Watching my mother and Ms. Lee talking quietly, a rush of bittersweet warmth completely overwhelmed me. Thank God. Thank God I was reborn. This time, I swear I won’t let anyone hurt her again. When the final list of grant recipients was posted, there were no surprises. My name was right there on it. That afternoon, the entire school gathered on the football field for a brief assembly to announce the financial aid awards. I stood in line with my class, waiting to be called up to the podium. I could clearly hear the whispering from a group of girls just behind me—Lily’s clique. “Ugh, I bet some people are feeling pretty smug right now. Stepping on others to get ahead, and she actually has the nerve to go up there.” “I know, right? Acting all high and mighty, who knows what kind of dirty tricks she pulled behind the scenes.” “Lily, you’re just too nice. That’s why she walks all over you…”

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At the company holiday gala raffle, I hit the jackpot. I won an Hermes Kelly bag with a market value of forty thousand dollars. I rushed to a luxury appraiser the next morning, ecstatic about cashing it in, only to be told it was a counterfeit. A total fake. When we got back from the holidays, I tried to report it to the Vice President, Ms. Vance. But the Head of HR, Brenda, intercepted me. “Don’t bother Ms. Vance with this petty nonsense,” Brenda snapped. “Bring the bag to me. I’ll handle the quality complaint and get back to you.” Instead, that very afternoon, I received a termination notice. Worse, the company filed a lawsuit against me. Brenda’s mask had slipped completely. “The box was unsealed. You expect us to just take your word for it?” she sneered. “You obviously sold the authentic bag and swapped it for a cheap fake to extort the company!” I was drowned in legal fees and debt. Under that crushing weight and relentless pressure, I jumped from the top of my apartment building. When I opened my eyes again, the roar of the gala filled my ears. I was back. Brenda stood before me, a subtle, scheming glint in her eyes, handing me the sealed signature orange box. Instead of keeping it, I turned and handed the box directly to Ms. Vance in front of everyone. “Thank you for everything the company has done for me! But honestly, a gift this expensive really belongs with you, Ms. Vance. Please, I insist you accept it!” 1 Ms. Vance looked pleasantly surprised. “Oh, Sarah… that is incredibly generous. I couldn’t possibly…” Despite her words, her hand was already reaching out to take it. This was exactly why I chose her. Ms. Vance was obsessed with designer luxury. In my past life, I knew she had been desperately trying to source a Kelly bag. What would happen if the fake bag ended up in her hands? Would a wealthy, powerful executive with a notoriously short temper be better equipped than a powerless employee to dig into who swapped the real product for a counterfeit? “Wait!” Brenda hurried over, a flash of panic in her eyes. “Sarah, company policy clearly states that all raffle prizes are registered to the individual winner. They cannot be transferred or gifted.” “HR has to log the winning information into the system right now. If you just give it away, the entire compliance process will be a mess.” Ms. Vance’s hand froze halfway to the box, the smile on her face dimming slightly. I sneered internally, but kept my face a mask of pure confusion. “But it hasn’t been registered yet, right?” “Brenda, can’t you just register it in Ms. Vance’s name directly? The raffle ticket didn’t have a name on it; it was just based on who was holding the winning number.” Brenda’s expression twitched. She clearly hadn’t expected me to push back so directly. She shot a quick look at Ms. Vance, realizing that the VP was staring right back at her, her annoyance visible. Brenda raised her voice, growing frantic. “Company perks are for the employees. Using a prize to kiss up to your boss is a terrible look. What are the other employees going to think?” She was laying it on thick, deliberately trying to shame me. People at the surrounding tables perked up, turning their attention toward us. Since Brenda had made it a public issue of optics, Ms. Vance felt forced to save face. She retracted her hand, her tone turning cool. “It’s the thought that counts, Sarah. But we do need to follow company policy. Brenda is right. You should keep the prize yourself.” She didn’t glance at the orange box again. My heart sank. I had no choice but to awkwardly pull the box back, apologizing profusely. “I’m sorry, Ms. Vance. I wasn’t thinking. Please don’t take offense.” Brenda breathed a visible sigh of relief and patted my shoulder. “Sarah, remember to come over to the administrative table to register in a few minutes. Don’t hold up the line.” My mind was racing. I left the box at my seat and hurried to the restroom. Thankfully, the banquet hall was covered in security cameras. As long as I didn’t leave the building with the bag, no one could accuse me of swapping it. But as soon as I sat down in a stall, the sound of Brenda’s voice drifted in, getting closer. 2 “…I know! I’ll get the money together soon! Isn’t the gap only forty thousand dollars? … Let them harass me! What if they call my house? Just hang up!” “Discovered? How the hell would I be discovered?! As long as that idiot takes the bag out of the building today, she can scream until she’s blue in the face, and everyone will think she just kept the forty grand for herself! Who is going to believe her?” “Ms. Vance really wanted that bag today… In a few days, I’ll suggest a policy change to management. I’ll pitch a rule that the company can recall any physical prize valued over ten grand for a cash payout. When that happens, I’ll force Sarah to pay back the forty grand difference! I get the cash to pay off my debt, and I can buy another fake to gift to Ms. Vance to get in her good graces. Two birds, one stone!” “If she can’t cough up the money, the company will just sue her for embezzlement of corporate assets!” The person on the other end of the line seemed to argue back, and Brenda roared impatiently. “Enough! I took a massive risk to cover my own ass! Do you think I want those predatory online lenders threatening my life every day?! As long as we get through today, I’m in the clear!” The call ended abruptly. The sharp click of her high heels echoed as she quickly left the restroom. “Where did that idiot Sarah go? Why hasn’t she registered yet…” I sat in the stall, my entire body icy cold. So that was it. It wasn’t a simple product swap. Brenda owed a massive amount to illegal payday loan sharks. She had replaced the real bag with a high-end replica, and sold the authentic one for forty thousand dollars to pay her debt. And I was her designated fall guy. As long as I left the gala with this prize, I could never wash off the stain. Even if I didn’t cause a scene tomorrow, she had plenty of ways to force me to cough up that forty thousand! This bag could absolutely not stay in my hands. The gala had about two hours left. Before it ended, I had to get this fake bag to someone else! 3 The moment I sat back down at my table, my phone started buzzing relentlessly. Brenda was spamming the company group chat. “Attention everyone: All raffle prizes must be registered before you leave the venue.” “Employees who have not registered their prizes cannot leave yet. Please cooperate.” “There is currently only one employee left who hasn’t registered. Please come to the admin desk immediately so we can wrap this up.” Coworkers who were already packing up their things turned to look at me. “Sarah, are you the only one left? Haven’t you registered yet?” “Hurry up and do it, we’re all waiting so we can go home!” Before I could dodge them, a few coworkers practically dragged me over to Brenda’s table. Brenda sat behind the registration sheet, her chin tilted up, looking at me with absolute smugness. I stood perfectly still. Chloe, a notoriously obnoxious coworker standing nearby, raised her voice. “Wow, win the grand prize and suddenly you think you’re royalty, huh?” “Some people get handed a fortune and just want to act high and mighty. If you don’t want it, just give it to me! I certainly won’t complain!” She was part of Brenda’s clique and constantly picked on me. When I won the Hermes bag, her eyes had practically turned green with envy. She was genuinely bitter. A few coworkers snickered, clearly enjoying the drama. Acting as if her words had completely enraged me, I shoved the heavy orange box directly into Chloe’s chest. “Fine! Take it! You act like I actually care about this thing!” Caught completely off guard, Chloe grabbed the box. A second later, sheer ecstasy washed over her face. She hugged the box tight, terrified I would take it back. She whipped around and yelled at Brenda, “Brenda! Quick, put my name down! Sarah gave it to me voluntarily! Hahahaha, some people just can’t handle wealth!” But the blood drained from Brenda’s face. Her voice came out sharp and panicked: “No!” Chloe was stunned by the outburst, her smile freezing. “…Why not?” I put on a mask of pure innocence. “Yeah, Brenda, why not? I gave it to Chloe voluntarily. Plus, you two are super close, right? Can’t you just bend the rules for her?” Brenda glared at me with pure venom, suffocating on her own panic before finally forcing the words out. “No means no! I have to follow corporate compliance! It has to be registered under Sarah’s name!” Chloe looked like someone had just snatched a winning lottery ticket out of her hands. Her face contorted in anger, and she pointed a finger right at Brenda, raising her voice. “Are you fucking kidding me, Brenda?! You’re the one who writes the ‘compliance’ rules whenever you want to kiss up to management! Don’t pull this bureaucratic bullshit on me! I’m keeping this bag today, period!” 4 Chloe’s voice was shrill and piercing, drawing the attention of dozens of people who hadn’t left yet. Brenda was furious and terrified. Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, she grabbed Chloe’s arm and hissed, “Come with me! I’ll explain it to you!” Brenda half-dragged a resistant Chloe into a quiet corner. The two put their heads together. As Brenda whispered frantically, Chloe’s expression morphed from anger to shock, and she kept shooting suspicious glances in my direction. Just then, a group of executives walked over, likely drawn by Chloe’s screaming. Leading them was Ms. Mercer, the fierce head of Marketing, who had a long-standing, bitter rivalry with Ms. Vance. She glanced at the orange box still clutched in Chloe’s arms and let out a sharp laugh. “Well, well. That box looks familiar. Don’t tell me that’s the Hermes bag?” “Ms. Vance, isn’t that the exact Kelly bag you’ve been dying to get your hands on? I saw your Instagram post yesterday complaining about how you were calling every sales rep in the city trying to track one down.” Ms. Vance’s face instantly darkened. She didn’t reply. Ms. Mercer wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip. She looked Ms. Vance up and down, feigning realization. “I was wondering why you kept staring over here earlier. It must be agonizing. Seeing an employee win the exact bag you want, and all you can do is stand there and watch. That must really sting, huh?” “Watch your mouth, Mercer!” Ms. Vance finally snapped, her tone rigid. Ms. Mercer turned her attention to me. “Sarah, weren’t you just trying to give this bag to Ms. Vance a minute ago?” Every eye in the vicinity locked onto me. I immediately lowered my head, playing the part of a terrified, intimidated subordinate. “I… I did want to give it to Ms. Vance. But Brenda told me company policy explicitly forbids transferring prizes… so I couldn’t do it.” “Oh!” Ms. Mercer dragged out the syllable, her expression dripping with exaggerated mock-sympathy. “So it was ‘company policy’ that stopped it! I see. But you know…” Her tone sharpened, turning incredibly condescending. “Since when does HR dictate the rules at our corporate gala? Ms. Vance, you’re a Vice President. You want a gift that an employee voluntarily offered you, and you have to ask an HR admin for permission? You play it a little too by the book, don’t you think? Taking orders from the clerical staff?” 5 Every word was laced with venom, stabbing directly at Ms. Vance’s pride. Her face flushed a furious, mottled red. Ms. Mercer was pretending to praise her for following the rules, but was actually mocking her for being a coward—for lacking the authority to claim a simple handbag, making her look weaker than an HR admin. Ms. Vance’s chest heaved. She shot a lethal glare toward the corner where Brenda was still frantically whispering to Chloe, completely oblivious to the executive showdown. Ms. Vance suddenly reached out her hand. “Sarah! I’m taking the bag. Consider it a direct sale. The market value is forty thousand dollars. I’m transferring the money to you right now!” The entire hall fell dead silent. Acting as if I was flustered and overwhelmed, I practically fumbled to pull the striking orange bag out of its box. Ms. Vance snatched it from my hands. Without even looking at it closely, she pulled out her phone. “Account number!” I rattled off my banking details. Seconds later, my phone vibrated. A deposit alert: $40,000. Clutching the bag, Ms. Vance shot one final, icy glare at Ms. Mercer, pivoted on her heels, and stormed out of the banquet hall. Ms. Mercer let out a triumphant scoff and walked away with her entourage. I quickly moved back to the admin table. The last line of the registration sheet was still blank. I picked up a pen, neatly wrote “Hermes Kelly Bag (Market Value: $40,000)” in the prize column, signed my name, and then added a very specific note in the margins: Cashed out on-site. Sold directly to Ms. Vance. Transaction complete. Just as I closed the empty box, Brenda and Chloe finally finished their hushed conversation and walked back over. Chloe’s expression had softened considerably, though the way she looked at me still held a trace of malicious glee. “Sarah, are you still giving me that bag? Because let me tell you, I already called a friend who runs a luxury consignment shop. I was banking on that cash for my holiday trip to Europe!” Brenda stepped up, having hastily reconstructed her cold, professional mask. “If you’re going to swap, do it now. I’m only making an exception this one time. Once it’s done, there are no take-backs.” The two of them were playing off each other perfectly. They had clearly reached some sort of dark agreement. I lowered my head, rubbed my hands together, and put on a guilty, hesitant face. “About the bag… I’m not giving it away anymore.” “What?” I stiffened my neck, acting like someone who was just being stubborn. “I said I’m not giving it away! I already signed the registration sheet myself. I’m just going to keep it!” Chloe glared at Brenda, looking furious. “Damn it! You snooze, you lose. I shouldn’t have listened to your stupid gossip earlier!” Brenda looked like she wanted to burst out laughing, but fought desperately to keep a straight face. “Why didn’t you just do that in the first place? You wasted everyone’s time!” 6 I clutched the empty box to my chest like I was guarding a treasure and turned to leave. But Brenda stepped in front of me again. “Not so fast, Sarah. Since you registered it, protocol requires a photograph of the actual prize for our archives. Open the box so I can take a picture.” She was being overly cautious. I put on an extremely petty, calculating expression, pulling out my own phone. I pretended to open my camera app, but actually hit ‘Record’ on my voice memos. “Take pictures… Brenda, can I take some pictures too? I want to get macro shots of the stitching, the hardware, the date stamps… I heard the super-fakes these days are incredibly convincing. If it turns out to be counterfeit, I want to have proof so I can call the police right here in the lobby!” Brenda’s face instantly went paper-white. She backpedaled immediately. “Never mind! We don’t need to do an unboxing inspection for yours! It was procured by the company, how could it possibly be a fake? Just a picture of the exterior box is fine!” I acted relieved and didn’t push the issue any further. Finally, while they were distracted, I made a show of tearing off the pink carbon copy of the registration sheet. “I’ll just keep the carbon copy for my records. I’m heading out now.” With that, I hugged the empty box and briskly walked out of the banquet hall. Faintly, I could still hear their mocking laughter trailing behind me. “Hahahahaha, that idiot actually thinks she hit the jackpot…” On the first day of the holiday break, I posted a status update on my Instagram. No photo, just text. [Taking my new bag out to see the girls! Finally getting a chance to flex!] I set the privacy so it was only visible to my coworkers. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Brenda updated her own status. She didn’t name names, but every word was a poisoned dart. [Just a piece of advice: don’t try to flex a counterfeit in high-society circles. You’ll just embarrass yourself when someone calls you out. Real is real, fake is fake. Don’t wait until you’re humiliated to regret it.] She was practically praying I’d realize it was a fake soon, eagerly waiting for me to storm into the office and cause a scene. After posting that, she even made sure to leave a sycophantic comment on Ms. Vance’s latest post. To make things even better, Ms. Vance had updated her feed just ten minutes prior. She posted a picture of an exclusive business gala invitation, with the caption: [Decided my new Kelly is going to be the centerpiece for tomorrow night’s event.] Brenda, completely oblivious, likely assumed Ms. Vance had gone to an Hermes boutique and bought a real one herself. She commented: [Congratulations on finally getting your dream bag, Ms. Vance! It suits you perfectly!] I locked my phone and let out a long, slow breath. The bait was in the water. Now, I just had to wait to reel the net in.

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When I gained consciousness, realizing I was trapped in the plot of a trashy romance novel destined to be the “evil rich girl,” it was too late. I had already hired thugs to kidnap the beautiful, innocent main character, Sophie. According to the script, she was about to be assaulted, beaten, and left with nothing. In retaliation, Elias—my wealthy childhood best friend who was obsessed with her—would undergo a dark transformation. He would destroy my father’s hedge fund, strip me of my wealth, and have me sold into human trafficking overseas. Ultimately, I would die alone in a foreign gutter, riddled with disease and missing a kidney. When reality hit me, I practically pissed myself. Shaking uncontrollably, I called the lead kidnapper: “Bring her back right now! I’ll pay you double—no, triple what we agreed!” The kidnapper just laughed on the other end of the line. “Sister, she’s already outside the client’s hotel room. The train has left the station. Catch my drift?” I panicked. Desperate to save my own skin, I blurts out the only available option: “Take me instead! I’m hotter, curvaceous, and I look like a temptress. I’m way better than that flat, boring college girl! Please, brother… Mr. Kidnapper, please?” Say what you want, but I know how to handle crisis PR. Chapter 1 1 The hotel room was pitch black, the blackout curtains drawn tight. I stood in the corner, shaking like a leaf on a vine. I had managed to talk the thugs into letting Sophie go, but now my knees were about to buckle under the weight of my reality. Am I really about to let myself get used to save her? I wanted to cry. Should I call the police? No, that would expose the fact that I hired them to kidnap her in the first place. I couldn’t catch my breath. Talk about being hoisting by your own petard. Just as I was spiral into panic, a man staggered out of the bedroom. He was tall. Even with his face flushed red, there was no hiding how devastatingly handsome he was. His white dress shirt was completely unbuttoned, revealing a sweaty, rock-hard chest and perfect six-pack abs. Normally, I’d take a mental picture, appreciate the view, and maybe even offer a low whistle. But right now, he was supposed to “do” me. I was not in the mood. 2 Based on the storyline I had awakened to, this man was Silas Sterling, the second son of the powerful Sterling family. He was notorious in high society for being stoic, almost celibate, and completely uninterested in marriage. His older brother, apparently tired of Silas’s lack of a love life, had drugged him to drag him out of his shell. The plan was for him to have a one-night stand with a “pure and innocent” college girl. As fate—or a lazy writer—would have it, I had kidnapped the main character, Sophie, and the thugs decided on their own to deliver her to Silas’s bed as the perfect candidate. Because Silas was out of his mind from the drug, when Sophie violently resisted, she not only lost her virginity but ended up beaten and broken, her spirit crushed. That led to Elias, my childhood best friend, hating me with a burning passion and vowing to destroy me. Now, I was here to fix it. Sophie was safe. If I played my cards right from now on, minded my own business, and stopped trying to win Elias over, maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t ruin my life later. I just had to get through this one night. 3 Before I could come up with a plan to escape, Silas charged at me. His eyes were burning red, his mind gone. He was running on pure, primal instinct. In an instant, his powerful arms scooped me up. His muscles felt tight and scorching hot against my skin. I couldn’t breathe. He slammed me onto the table, flipping me so I was on top, and kissed me with brute force. Total chaos. Our breaths tangled. I couldn’t stop shaking. Desperate to keep him from getting violent like the original plot, I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to guide him gently. I was completely overwhelmed by the rich, masculine scent of pine and cedarwood coming off him. Within seconds, both our heart rates were through the roof. I was terrified, but I had to placate the beast. “Slow down, okay?” I whispered, feeling the intense shame of the situation. “I’ll… take them off myself…” But the next second: Rrip! My silk top and skirt were torn to shreds. The man was a total savage. I had seen Silas Sterling at exclusive galas before. He always looked like the definition of a suave, sophisticated gentleman. Nothing like this monster. I cursed his brother mentally. Who drugs their own sibling?! I closed my eyes, shivering as I pressed against him, trying to keep it from being a fight. “Please, just… go easy. It’s my first time.” I always had romantic ideas about my first time. This was not part of the plan. Life really doesn’t care about your plans. 4 Eventually, Silas seemed to regain a tiny shred of rationality. While his actions were still intense, he stopped attacking and started adjusting to my pace, even taking a moment to wipe the sweat from my forehead. I could only try to relax and let him have his way. In my blurred state of mind, I tried to rationalize: Look on the bright side. Silas Sterling is notorious for being celibate. He’s definitely clean. And he’s gorgeous. The guy is literally walking perfection. Looking at the red rimming his eyes, watching his body move over me with total obsession, I gritted my teeth. I’ll just pretend I ordered a top-tier male model. And this one was “free.” 5 By the time everything finally quieted down, I felt like I was half dead. Silas was exhausted. He had fallen fast asleep on me. I shivered uncontrollably as I extracted myself, moving like a ghost to put on whatever remnants of clothing I could find. My legs were shaking so hard I could barely walk. I was just stumbling out of the hotel when Elias called my cell. “What did you do to Sophie? Why did she almost miss the school’s musical showcase?” “Is this your doing? Answer me.” The rapid-fire interrogation made me feel incredibly guilty. The original reason for the kidnapping was, in fact, to stop Sophie from performing. I was supposed to be the lead dancer. But Elias had used his connections to steal the role for Sophie. I had been forced to step down. I couldn’t understand why the billionaire CEO of a massive company was meddling in college theater. Elias had argued that Sophie came from nothing and needed the showcase to secure a scholarship. He told me that a rich girl like me didn’t need to “fight the poor for food.” But dance was my passion. I had worked for ten years for that role. I had earned it fair and square. Why should I have to give it up just because she’s poor? That frustration, fueled by jealousy and hatred, had driven me over the edge. I paid those thugs to grab her. But I never wanted to hurt her. I just wanted her to not show up. How could one mistake put me and my family on the path to total destruction? 6 Before Sophie appeared, Elias and I were inseparable. We were the stereotypical wealthy childhood best friends. He was the protective older brother type. I never doubted for a second that we would get married one day and have the perfect suburban life. Then Sophie arrived. And Elias couldn’t look away from her. I hated how she always acted like the tragic, innocent victim, always hanging around him. So I targetted her. I mocked her. I made her life miserable. I went crazy, I was obsessed, and I fought with Elias constantly. It was my own stupid behavior that destroyed whatever fondness Elias had left for me. But now, I was truly terrified. I was never doing that again. I gently touched my abdomen. My kidneys were still there. A little overused right now, but still there. Surviving was what mattered! I quickly said, “Elias, I swear, I didn’t do anything. You have it all wrong.” Sophie had returned to the theatre totally unharmed. None of this had anything to do with me. Elias let out a cold laugh over the phone. “If I find even a hint that you were involved, Sera, I will destroy you.” If he had said that to me before I awakened to the plot, my heart would have broken into a million pieces. But now, I knew where I stood. “Don’t worry,” I said firmly. “I guarantee you, I will never fight Sophie for you again. In fact, you won’t have to see my face at all.” He was clearly taken aback by how fast I admitted defeat. After a long pause, he said coldly, “Good. Keep it that way.” I hung up and finally let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Stage one of damage control: Complete. 7 When I got home, I made three resolutions: Forget Elias. Forget Sophie. Forget everything that happened in that hotel room. Elias Fairchild could be the sexiest, most charming man on the planet, but he wasn’t worth losing a kidney over. He certainly wasn’t worth sacrificing my dad for. Our childhood promises of marriage were just kids playing make-believe. I needed to grow the hell up. Honestly, I thought about running away. Maybe move to Europe for grad school and not come back until Elias and Sophie were happily married with kids. But whenever I thought about that path in the storyline—the sickness, the human trafficking—my stomach churned. I was safer in the US than anywhere else in the world. So, I decided to become a hermit. For the next three days… I didn’t leave my house. I skipped my classes. My dad thought I was sick. I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth, but I did manage to give him a subtle warning. I practically begged him to stop engaging in any new business ventures with the Fairchild family. In the storyline, Elias was only able to take over my dad’s company so easily because my dad trusted him completely. Given my dramatic shift in attitude toward Elias, my dad was confused. “Did you and Elias have another fight? It’s okay to fight, Sera, but don’t hold a grudge.” I rolled my eyes. “We are over, Dad. He likes someone else. We are not a thing.” I finally spilled the truth, telling him everything Elias had done to me for Sophie’s sake. I used to be too proud to tell him, always making excuses for Elias. But now, my dad needed to know the reality. “Whatever was between us ended a long time ago. He’s going his way, and I’m going mine.” My dad looked at me for a long moment before letting out a sigh. “Okay. I understand.”

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My roommate wanted to transfer her “spare tire” to me. Her reason? The guy was too clingy, too jealous, and just plain annoying. I took a look at her contact note for him: [Dumb & Loaded—Drain Immediately]. My eyes lit up. “Give him to me! Hand him over! I love clingy!” Just as I said that, a line of glowing text floated across my vision. It looked like live stream chat comments—bullet screen reactions. [LMAO, the villainess is officially online.] [She’s just a plot device. This male lead is destined to go absolutely psycho for our goddess, Chloe, later on!] [Hurry up and take the hand-me-down. Once the male lead realizes it’s a different girl on the other end, he’s gonna storm back to the country to find Chloe. The romantic tension is going to be insane!] Wait. I was just a tool to advance the plot? Does that mean I’m about to get rich? “This guy is loaded. He sends money at the drop of a hat. He’s just too possessive, and I’m over it. He’s yours,” my roommate said. My roommate, Chloe, was our college’s undisputed “It Girl.” The number of guys in her rotation of casual flings was countless. To manage them, she had multiple burner Instagram accounts. She’d post whatever she wanted on her Close Friends stories, never worrying about getting caught. I took the phone and checked the profile. The note was simple and crude: [6’2, Abs, Lives in NY]. Scrolling through the chat history, the guy was definitely a jealous type. If Chloe replied too slowly, or if he found out she was playing online games with other guys, he’d go ballistic. Every time, Chloe would just send a few high-pitched, cutesy voice notes, and he’d instantly calm down. I tried to mimic that high, sugary pitch in my throat. I almost gagged myself. The floating text started up again. [This side character is literally pathetic. Does she really think she can copy Chloe’s voice?] [Just waiting for Ethan Thorne to send cash. This gold digger probably hasn’t seen this much money in her life.] Seeing this, my heart did a little flip. Actual money transfer? Perfect timing. My bank account was bone dry, and I was looking at a diet of instant ramen for the rest of the month. [Venmo: You received $5,200 from Ethan Thorne.] [Caption: Babe, things are crazy at the company right now. No time to play games with you. Don’t be mad.] My fingers flew. Accept. Instant deposit. Five thousand two hundred! That was enough to cover my textbooks and rent for the next few months! Amazing! Absolutely amazing! I hit him back with a “shoulder rub” emoji. [Hubby, you’re working so hard! Remember to DM me when you’re done, I miss you! ❤️] The message had barely sent when the phone vibrated again. [Venmo: You received $13,140 from Ethan Thorne.] [Caption: First time you’ve called me hubby. Sounds amazing. Miss you too.] Looking at those numbers, my eyes almost popped out of my head. Calling him “hubby” was worth thirteen grand? Fine. As long as the money keeps coming, he is my one and only cyber-husband from this day forward. The chat comments exploded. [This girl is shameless! Zero dignity!] [Ethan definitely thinks it’s Chloe calling him hubby right now. I’m so mad!] [Disgusting. She’ll say anything for money.] I didn’t care what the comments said. I turned around and ordered the most expensive Starbucks drink on the menu—triple whip, extra drizzle—and a luxury sushi platter I’d been dreaming about for six months. Being rich felt incredible! I’d never have to listen to my dad complain on the phone over five hundred bucks in spending money ever again. These idiots in the comments didn’t know anything. When you’re too poor to eat, dignity doesn’t fill your stomach. Chapter 2 Three days later, I hauled a mountain of shopping bags back to the dorm. “Whoa, Hannah, did you win the lottery?” my roommate, Lisa, asked. “Why’d you buy so much stuff?” I couldn’t stop grinning. “End-of-season sales. Everything was practically free.” Chloe, who was busy filling in her eyebrows at the vanity, glanced at me through the mirror. Her tone was a bit salty. “Didn’t Ethan Thorne prove to be generous? He didn’t send you any cash? He used to buy me designer bags all the time.” I dropped my bags, walked over, and started massaging her shoulders, putting on my best groveling face. “I only dared to buy these clothes because he sent some money. It’s all thanks to you!” “If you hadn’t passed this big fish over to me, I don’t know how I would have made rent this month.” Chloe’s expression darkened slightly. She tried to sound casual. “How much did you make?” “Oh, like a $131 and a $52 transfer. Enough to keep me going for a bit!” I lied through my teeth. Hearing this, the annoyance on Chloe’s face vanished, replaced by a look of slight disdain. “Only that much? He used to give me bags worth thousands.” “You don’t think he figured out we swapped, do you?” I pressed my lips together, pretending to be worried. “I don’t think so? But he did mention his company is going through some stuff. He doesn’t have time to play games. You don’t think he’s going bankrupt, do you?” A scornful smile played on Chloe’s lips. She patted my shoulder, acting magnanimous. “If he’s broke, move on. Don’t worry, there are plenty of other fish in my pond. I’ll share a few more with you later.” She turned to the other two roommates. “You guys want in? I can divide up a few for you to play with.” The other two roommates came from rich, local families. They had no interest in her game. They shook their heads and declined. Only I gushed with gratitude toward Chloe. “Chloe, you are literally an angel! If I ever marry rich, I’m sending you expensive skincare every single day!” Chloe crinkled her nose in disgust, turned back, and continued with her makeup. I turned around to unbox my items and try on my new clothes. The floating comments were scrolling frantically. [Holy s*, this side character is conniving!]** [It was fifty-two hundred and thirteen thousand, and she lied to Chloe saying it was a few hundred bucks!] [It’s over. Chloe thinks Ethan is broke, she definitely won’t want him back now.] [Chloe, wake up! All the ugly losers in your rotation combined don’t equal one of Ethan’s fingers! He’s the heir to the biggest tech conglomerate in the country!] The sole heir to a tech conglomerate? That made me feel even better. After unboxing everything, I lay on my bed and messaged Ethan. [Hubby, are you done with work? I took a little nap just now and dreamt you had another girl. I woke up crying, lol. waaah] Then, I found the perfect angle and took a selfie. My eyes were slightly red, looking pitiful, but the focus was on the beauty mark right at the corner of my eye. I had scrolled back through the chat history. Chloe had never sent a photo showing her face. Her Instagram was all shots of her from behind. She was tall and had a great body, but I wasn’t bad either, and my skin was incredibly pale. When Ethan had liked that old picture on Chloe’s Close Friends story, he hadn’t even asked which one was her. To maintain her “mysterious goddess” vibe, Chloe hadn’t even told him her real name. Ethan had always called her by her gamer tag: “RolyPoly.” [Wife!!] [The location of that beauty mark by your eye… it’s in the exact same spot as mine!] Immediately, Ethan sent a close-up selfie. The man in the photo had a high nose bridge, deep-set eyes, and a rogue-ish smirk. He was devastatingly handsome. [I guess that means we have a ‘destined marriage face,’ hubby. You are so hot, I want to kiss you! 😘] [As soon as I finish this project, I’m flying out to see you! Wife, I love you!] [Venmo: You received $52,000 from Ethan Thorne.] Fifty-two thousand! Ethan Thorne… this guy was the real deal. I sent a barrage of kissing emojis, and then started pouring on the shameless flirtation. [Hubby, I’m going to kiss the skin right off your face when we meet.] [And your abs… I’m going to feel every single one of them, hehe. 😏] [Hubby, take care of your precious body. The day we meet is the day you lose your innocence, teehee!] Chapter 3 A few flirty messages later, the comments went wild again. [Help! This side character is literally a predator!] [Chloe was a cold, distant goddess in Ethan’s mind. This trashy girl ruined everything!] [Wait, why does Ethan seem to be enjoying this? Why is the vibe getting weirder and weirder?] [It’s over. Ethan is one of those repressed types; in his bones, he loves this chaotic energy…] [It’s fine. No matter how happy they are texting, she’s just a stand-in. When Ethan comes back and sees Chloe, that’ll be ‘love at first sight’ all over again! This kind of online relationship only survives in the phone; it dies the second it hits the light!] [Right, right. This girl is okay-looking, but she can’t compare to Chloe’s supermodel vibes. Ethan is going to be so disgusted by her when they meet.] Disgusted? I was counting on it. Be as disgusted as you want. Ideally, write me a check on the spot and tell me to get lost. It had only been a few days, and I’d already saved up nearly seventy grand. My tuition and living expenses for four years of college were totally covered. If we kept talking for a few more months, I might actually save up a down payment for a house. Then I could buy a small condo and completely cut ties with my toxic, leech-like biological family. Thinking about this, I decided to turn up the heat, flatter Ethan frantically, and continue pretending to be dirt poor in front of Chloe. That way, when the “true lovers” inevitably met, they’d feel guilty and maybe even give me a severance payment. It was perfect. Chapter 4 To maintain my “poverty-stricken” persona in front of Chloe, my life was, frankly, completely schizophrenic. During the day, I ate dry crackers and water in the dorm. At night, I ordered lobster tails and expensive takeout and ate it huddled inside a bathroom stall. Chloe’s look toward me became increasingly superior. She even started talking to her new rotation guy right in front of my face. “Aww, but I really want that new designer tote. It’s only three thousand. You won’t even buy that for me?” She hung up, glanced at the plain tap water I was drinking, and let out a fake, sympathetic sigh. “Hannah, I’m not judging, but if that guy from New York is really that broke, you should just block him. Stop wasting your time.” I shook my head vigorously, looking sincere. “I can’t, Chloe. He might be poor, but he’s really good to me. He texts me every morning and night to check on me. I grew up unloved, you know? I’m soft for that stuff.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Pathetic.” The comments flooded the screen again. [This girl’s acting is incredible. Oscar-worthy.] [Chloe, run! This girl is playing the long game!] [Relax above, Ethan is about to fly in. Let’s see how this trashy girl manages the IRL meet-and-greet!] Flying in? My heart skipped a beat. I pulled out my phone and checked. Sure enough, Ethan had sent a message.

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My husband gave me two snakes as pets. The creepy part is, whenever they notice me watching, they start furiously mating. It’s enough to make anyone blush. That’s when the floating text suddenly appeared in my vision. [The female lead is so smart! I can’t believe she thought of having the system turn them into snakes so they can flaunt their love right in front of the side character!] [Hahaha, they are going full speed ahead, and the side character is just standing there looking dumb! Little does she know the male lead is going to strangle her with his tail soon!] [As soon as the side character is dead, the male lead can inherit her multi-million dollar fortune and take the female lead home!] A chill ran down my spine. I immediately dialed the number of the snake catcher next door. “Hi, I have two incredibly fat snakes here. They’d make a great stew!” 1 I was woken up by a rustling, wet, slapping sound. I opened my eyes to see two six-foot-long, brightly colored snakes hanging upside down from my chandelier. They were coiled together like a DNA double helix, their heads raised excitedly, their tongues flicking and touching. Their eyes looked intoxicated, almost as if they were smiling like humans. A few drops of murky white fluid seeped from the tails, dripping down right onto the crotch of my nightgown. Not again. This was the eighteenth time they had gone at it in my bedroom. Frustrated, I sat up and tried calling my husband, Cole. Still no answer. I had no choice but to leave another voicemail. “Where on earth did you buy these two exhibitionists? They have no shame, constantly doing it in my house.” “Honestly, I’m starting to doubt they’re even snakes. They don’t act like reptiles at all. They aren’t even bothered by the AC set to sixty degrees.” Suddenly, my vision blurred. A block of floating text materialized in front of my eyes. [Hahahahaha… congratulations, you guessed right! They really aren’t snakes. It’s your husband and your best friend, you idiot!] [They are going at it full throttle, and you’re just standing there clueless, thinking you’re raising pets! They’re here to take you out!] [My female lead baby is a literal genius. To think she managed to hustle the system for two shape-shifting pills right before terminating their contract!] [Hahaha, they are deliberately doing it over the side character’s underwear for the thrill of it, and then making her bathe them afterward. Watching this is so satisfying!] [They’ve been at it for so long, the female lead baby must be pregnant by now! It’s time to send the side character packing! Otherwise, the female lead will show, and she won’t look good in a wedding dress!] [Don’t worry, after tonight, the male lead will strangle the side character with his tail. Then he’ll shift back to human form, inherit her millions, and happily marry our female lead baby!] Reading these words made my blood run cold. Staring at the female snake glaring at me with a smug, vicious light in her eyes, I actually started to see the resemblance to my best friend, Chloe. According to the floating text—the “comments.” Chloe was the “Main Character” of this world. She was supposed to follow a “System” to complete missions and build her career. But instead, she unexpectedly set her sights on my husband, Cole, deciding she wanted to steal him from me. Because of this, the System broke her contract, dropping two shape-shifting pills before vanishing. They planned to use the pills to get their kicks, while also finding a foolproof way to murder me! A bone-deep chill permeated every fiber of my being. In a daze, I actually heard Chloe’s voice. “Hubby, look. That idiot is staring at us again. I’m so shy.” The male snake’s tail wrapped around her, and Cole’s voice immediately followed. “I want her to watch. That’s what makes it exciting. Come here, let your husband give you another baby.” I bit my lip hard, using the pain to force myself to stay calm. The next second, I made a phone call. “Hey, Uncle Earl. Didn’t you say these two snakes of mine were fat enough to make a killer stew? I’m selling them to you!” 2 Earl was probably stunned; he didn’t say a word for a long time. The whole neighborhood knew he and I were mortal enemies. I loved keeping snakes as pets. He ate two pounds of snake meat almost every day. And before he ate them, he always made a point of torturing them. The day these two snakes arrived, he had followed the scent right to my door, slapping two thousand dollars down and demanding to buy them. Not only did I refuse, but I cursed him out. Hearing me say this now, he hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Harper, what kind of trick are you playing? Setting a trap for me?” “If you don’t want them, I’ll sell them to someone else!” I made to hang up. He hastily stopped me. “No, no, no! You’ve fattened those things up so well, I can’t let anyone else have them. I absolutely want them! Save them for me! I’m heading back right now, you have to save them for me!” After hanging up, I noticed the two snakes had fallen from the chandelier and were slithering frantically across the king-size bed in a panic. Chloe’s shrill voice pierced the air. “Is she crazy?! Why is she suddenly selling us?!” Cole analyzed the situation hesitantly. “Don’t panic. You and I both know how much she loves snakes. The way she’s taken meticulous care of us for the past two months proves that!” “Then what the hell is she doing right now?” “My guess is, she’s setting a trap for that guy Earl. She hates him. She’s badmouthed him to me more than once.” “That’s true, she told me she was looking for a chance to teach that Earl guy a lesson too.” Chloe sighed in relief, her tail wrapping around him again. The two snakes shamelessly began getting intimate right in front of me again. The female snake’s head was a few inches lower than the male’s, looking up at him like a concubine begging for favor from a king. “Hubby, the System’s antidotes will be deposited in the next two days. Shouldn’t we hurry up and get rid of her before we turn back into humans?” Cole’s snake eyes darted toward me. His dark, forked tongue hissed in my direction. For a moment, he didn’t speak. Chloe hissed at him. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Are you getting soft? You still love her, don’t you?! I knew it! You love her to death! You’re just playing with me!” The female snake swung her head and slithered onto my dresser, coiling around a framed object. She stared at Cole with teary, reptilian eyes. “You kept your token of love! You can’t bear to kill her!” To my surprise, before she even finished her sentence, the male snake’s tail violently smashed the picture frame! The glass shards pierced right through the two pieces of paper inside. It felt like they had pierced my heart a thousand times, too! Years ago, everyone knew that to win me over, Cole went from a failing student to a top-tier scholar. Our final SAT scores were only ten points apart. We went to the same university hand-in-hand. Those two score reports became our token of love, kept safe all these years. Now, his tail slammed down on my score report with a vengeance. A dark, ghostly voice drifted over. “She’s terrified of water. I’m going to wrap my beautiful snake body around her neck, drag her underwater, and watch her slowly suffocate to death!” I was shocked by his cold-bloodedness, momentarily stunned into silence. Honestly, I treated him better than I treated myself. I had never done a single thing to betray him. When he wanted to start a business, I supported him financially and emotionally. When his business failed, I let him rest at home, or paid for him to go on luxury vacations. I covered every single expense. Why did he hate me so much? I looked blankly at the comments floating in the air. [I knew the male lead hated the side character! The harder he loved her before, the more he hates her now! After all, no Alpha male can stand a woman being better than him!] [The side character scoring higher on the SATs already pissed him off, and then she constantly flaunted her money! Every dime the male lead spent of hers felt like a slap in the face. Even if there was love, it burned out a long time ago!] [Hahaha, the side character deserves it! What good is a woman having so much money? Our female lead baby is smart. She knows how to submit and be soft in front of a man. A woman who knows how to act cute gets the best life~] I gave a self-deprecating laugh. To think my understanding and generosity had become the reason he wanted me dead. Biting the hand that feeds you, indeed. I walked straight toward the two snakes. They thought I was going to wipe them down and were completely off guard as I chucked them straight into a burlap sack. But just as I was about to tie the bag shut, the male snake lunged out, wrapping tightly around my neck with terrifying speed. 3 A freezing, scaly sensation pressed against my neck and shoulders. His head was raised high, his beady eyes glaring at me, his dark tongue flicking right against the tip of my nose. His tail was coiled tightly around my wrist. I was prepared to go down fighting. However, right at that moment, his eyes changed. “Hubby, what are you waiting for? Do it!” Chloe urged him on. Instead, Cole wrapped himself around my waist and abdomen twice, like he was protecting something. “She’s pregnant.” Those three words hit me like a thunderbolt. I looked down at my flat stomach. Impossible. He was the only man I’d ever been with, and he hadn’t been home in ages. I hadn’t had any kind of intimate life; how could I be pregnant? Chloe slithered over quickly, furious. “Ha! She always acts so loyal to you, but she’s been screwing around with some random guy this whole time!” “The baby is mine.” Those few words sent another shockwave through me. In my confusion, I suddenly remembered a dream I had two months ago. In the dream, a massive snake had wrapped itself around me. When I woke up, the bedsheets were soaked. Looking back now, it wasn’t a dream. It was Cole! “So that’s how it is.” Chloe curled up into a pathetic little ball. “Since she’s pregnant, I’ll just bow out. I know you could never bear to hurt your own child. I’ll step aside for your happy little family of three. I’ll just treat the beautiful time we spent together as a dream.” Cole hastily hooked his tail around her. “Why are you being so accommodating? When did I ever say I didn’t want you? I only want the child you give me. Her kid is just an ant I can crush whenever I want.” His snake head turned to look at me. “Let’s send them both to hell together then. At least they’ll have company on the way down.” I clenched my fists. Just then, the doorbell rang. Earl’s raspy voice came through the door. “Harper, open up! I’m here!” 4 The two snakes exchanged a look, then intertwined like usual and slithered up to a high shelf, coiling together. I opened the door and let Earl in. “Catch them yourself. However you deal with them, I won’t ask any questions.” With that, I slammed the door shut behind me. The comments went crazy. [Why did the side character leave? Is she really selling the male and female leads? No way, right?] [The leads are panicking. They were planning to kill the side character after Earl left, but now that she’s gone, how are they supposed to do it?] [Oh crap! Earl has a knife!] [Thank God the antidotes arrived just in time! Chloe baby, hurry up and eat it!] [Once he shifts back to a human, Earl won’t be able to do anything to them!] [Eat it quickly! There are only two antidotes! If you don’t eat them, you’ll slowly turn into real snakes permanently!] Antidotes? My nerves pulled taut. If I let them change back, wouldn’t all this be for nothing? I turned right back around, and the moment I opened the door, I was stunned. Chapter 2 Earl was single-handedly battling two massive snakes. He had grabbed both their tails to stop them from escaping, using every muscle in his body, his teeth gritted with effort. Both snake heads were stretching in the same direction, jaws wide open, biting frantically at the air. I followed their gaze and immediately spotted two black pills sitting on the table. Those had to be the antidotes the comments were talking about! Just as the snake heads were about to reach the pills, I snatched them up with lightning speed. Earl let out a muffled groan. Cole had somehow broken free from his grip and was lunging toward me. I didn’t have time to think. I spun around, sprinted into the bathroom, tossed the pills into the toilet, and slammed the flush handle. With a loud whoosh, the two pills vanished in the swirling vortex of water. I heard Cole cursing loudly. He had slithered right up to my feet, his snake head dipping uselessly into the toilet bowl, looking like he wanted to cry. “Harper, I’m going to kill you!” I stepped out of the way just in time. Earl’s snake hook perfectly snagged Cole’s head and yanked him backward. I breathed a sigh of relief. Looking over, I saw that Chloe had already been shoved into a burlap sack and was frantically writhing around inside. “These two monsters of yours are vicious. Thank God they aren’t venomous, or I really might have died here today!” As he spoke, he clamped down hard on Cole’s head and expertly shoved him into a second sack. “What are you going to do with them?” Earl clamped a cigar in his mouth and let out a dark chuckle. “None of your business what I do with them. We made a deal, cash for goods. I’m not giving them back.” “I’m just curious.” He squinted, blew out a puff of smoke, and kicked the burlap sack with his muddy work boot before answering. “Things this feisty, it’d be a waste to just chop their heads off. You’ve had sashimi, but have you ever had snake sashimi? Cool, thin slices… one bite, and it’s way crunchier than fish!” His smile turned sinister. “A creature this long… I plan on starting from the tail and eating about four inches a meal.” I dry-heaved. He just threw his head back and laughed. Chloe was screaming non-stop, begging for her System. Since the System wasn’t answering, her despair was palpable. “What do we do, what do we do?! I don’t want to die like this! Cole, think of something, please!” Cole’s voice sounded even more terrified than hers. “The antidotes are the only thing that matters! Tell your System to send another batch!” Chloe shrieked, crying, “It’s useless! I broke the contract with it! I used all my remaining points for those two pills! We’re out of chances!” “We’re going to turn into real snakes soon. But at least I have you. We’ll be a snake couple forever.” “Shut up! I am absolutely not turning into an animal! And I am definitely not having a litter of snake babies with you! This is all your fault, you psycho! If you hadn’t brainwashed me into turning into a snake, I wouldn’t be in this mess! I had Harper as my personal ATM, but you kept whispering in my ear, making me hate her! This is all your fault!” Chloe was dumbfounded. For the first time, the comments turned against Cole. [That piece of trash! Before, he was saying he’d love Chloe forever, that she was sweet and understanding, and he’d only ever marry her. Now that things went wrong, he instantly turned on her! Ahhh, I want to slap him to death!] I finally felt a release of the anger building in my chest. “Venmo QR code,” Earl’s voice snapped me back to reality. I pulled up my code and held out my phone. Just then, a figure rushed in and snatched my phone away. “You’re not selling them!” 5 I froze for a second before realizing the person standing in front of me was my own mother. She immediately blasted Earl in the face with pepper spray. Caught completely off guard, he shrieked in agony. “Mom, what are you doing?! I called him here!” The next second, my mom slapped me hard across the face. “I heard everything! You were going to sell these two snakes, weren’t you?!” I was stunned. “Why did you hit me?!” “If I don’t hit you, will you wake up?! My son-in-law bought these two snakes specifically for us to keep! He made me promise to take good care of them until he gets back! He isn’t even home yet, and you’re selling them! Do you have water for brains?!” As she spoke, she quickly untied the snake bags, shaking out the one containing Cole. “Big Red, run, hurry!” Cole slithered incredibly fast, vanishing from sight in the blink of an eye. Seeing my mom reaching to release Chloe too, I desperately tried to stop her. “Cole cheated on me! I don’t want anything of his!” My mom froze, then suddenly shook her head. “Impossible! Cole is such a good, respectful boy. How could he betray you? You just want to dump him and made up an excuse, didn’t you?” I was utterly speechless. “Are you even my real mother? What kind of mother doubts her own daughter like this?” She sneered. “You’re my biological daughter, alright. But you have your father’s genes. You’re both treacherous! Cole is innocent, just like me. He can’t play your twisted games. I have to protect him!” I felt utterly helpless. My parents divorced a long time ago. When my dad passed away, he left all his assets solely to me, not giving my mom a single dime. Ever since then, she found fault with everything I did. On top of that, Cole always played the perfect, filial son-in-law around her, constantly flattering her with “Mom is the best.” Over time, their relationship became stronger than hers and mine. Earl stumbled into the room, cursing, and grabbed Chloe. “I’ll come back to settle the score for the other one another day!” “Earl, you bastard! This is robbery!” My mom rushed out after him. Less than five minutes later, footsteps slowly approached the door. I sighed and said, “You’re no match for Earl. Why did you chase him? Besides, I already agreed to sell…” I stopped mid-sentence, stunned by the person standing in front of me. It wasn’t my mom. It was Cole. 6 I doubted my own eyes and blinked hard. It really was the human Cole I remembered, not that massive snake. He was soaking wet and reeked of sewage. Seeing me, he flashed his signature smile. “Honey, I’m home.” “Ran into some trouble, look a bit of a mess. I’ll explain everything later.” With that, he headed straight for the bathroom to shower. My legs felt weak; I could barely stand. I looked up and saw the comments cheering. [I’ll forgive the male lead for yelling at the female lead earlier, considering he was brave enough to eat actual shit.] So that was it. Cole had followed the pills down the toilet drain and actually managed to eat them. My hands and feet turned ice cold, and I lost my balance, collapsing onto the sofa. Right then, my mom returned. She was sweating profusely, but wore a satisfied smile on her face. “Trying to mess with me? He’s got a lot to learn!” I shot up. “You got the snake back?” “It belongs to my son-in-law, of course I got it back! You, on the other hand… I’ve never seen anyone so greedy! Your husband buys you a pet out of the goodness of his heart, and you try to sell it behind his back. You have no conscience!” She carefully placed Chloe into a terrarium and turned to look for the other one. Cole walked out, a towel draped over his shoulders. “Mom, no need to look. Thanks for your hard work. You should head home and rest.” My mom was ecstatic. “Oh, it’s so good you’re back! This brat said you cheated on her! Tell me, what’s going on?” Cole met my gaze, a smile playing on his lips. “How could I? I’ve been out of town on business all this time. I haven’t even seen another woman. Besides, in my eyes, no woman in the world is better than Harper.” Lying without batting an eye! I was furious. But in that moment, I had no proof. I couldn’t exactly tell people he turned into a snake and cheated on me with another woman. In the eyes of the world, he was just a devoted husband who went on a long business trip and still sent gifts home every month. Flawless. Instead, he could use the baby in my stomach as leverage to force a divorce and take half my assets. Sure enough, the next second I heard Cole say: “I rushed back because I heard Harper got involved with another man and is pregnant with his child. I really didn’t want to believe it. Mom, could you take a look?” “What?!” My mom turned pale with shock. She whipped her head around and glared at me. “You dared betray your husband?! I’ll beat you to death, you shameless tramp!”

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Carter Sterling noticed I hadn’t submitted an “expense request” to the family group chat in a week. He thought I’d finally dropped my petty, penny-pinching habits. Tossing a black Amex onto the dining table like a handout, he sneered: “I paid off your dad’s dialysis bills. Don’t bother me with this poor-people nonsense anymore.” “I know your family is a bottomless pit, but you’re Mrs. Sterling now. Try not to look so desperate.” But he didn’t know that when I took the black card, I had already signed my body donation form and our divorce papers. As I walked out the door, I was still wearing the same pill-covered hoodie he had casually tossed me five years ago. No one would believe that the wife of Carter Sterling, a man who controlled half the media resources in the country, had to take a photo of a $5 receipt for tampons and upload it to his assistant’s phone for approval. All because he thought a “gold digger” like me would go bad the second I had real money in my hands. But a week ago, my dad’s kidneys failed and he needed an emergency blood transfusion. I begged Carter on my knees for a $4,000 advance. His darling secretary, however, intentionally rejected my transfer request, smiling as she said she wanted to help me cure my “insatiable greed.” Carter didn’t know that I endured this humiliation just so my dad could stay alive in his private hospital. Now, my dad’s life support had been pulled due to unpaid bills, and his ashes had already been scattered. I didn’t need to be his obedient dog anymore. Free Chapters 1 ######################### Data Divider ######################### Chapter 1 My phone buzzed. A message from Carter Sterling popped up on the screen, dripping with his usual condescending charity. “I’ve reinstated your dad’s treatment. Be a good girl from now on and stop lying to extort money from me.” “I know it’s not easy for people from your background, but my money isn’t that easy to scam.” I stared at those two lines of text. My heart was unusually calm. I replied with a single word: “Okay.” Setting my phone down, I signed my name on the divorce agreement sitting in front of me. Carter probably thought my three-day hiatus from asking for reimbursements was just me throwing a tantrum. A so-called “cold war.” After all, for the past three years, I had lived like a dog just to keep my dad’s medical bills paid. I had no source of income. Carter forbade me from working, claiming it was humiliating for a Sterling wife to show her face in the corporate world. But he didn’t give me an allowance, either. Every single cent I spent had to go through his company’s expense portal for approval. Buying groceries required an expense report. Buying tampons required an expense report. Even the few bucks I spent riding the subway required a scanned receipt. And the person approving all of this was his executive secretary, Evelyn Reed. The woman who had been by his side since college, the one who proudly styled herself as his “office wife” and “soulmate.” Three days ago. The hospital issued a critical condition notice. My dad had suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and needed immediate surgery. Thirty thousand dollars. To Carter Sterling, that was the price of a single bottle of vintage wine. I called him like a madwoman. After a dozen tries, someone finally picked up. But the voice on the other end belonged to Evelyn Reed. “Harper, Carter is in a meeting right now. Is it an emergency?” I didn’t care about anything else. I begged her through my tears, “Evelyn, let me talk to Carter! My dad is dying, I need thirty thousand dollars for his surgery!” Evelyn let out a soft, amused chuckle. “Harper, you know the company rules.” “Thirty thousand isn’t a small amount. You have to submit it through the corporate portal.” “Carter hates people who break the rules. If you just demand money like this, he’ll be angry.” “Hurry up and submit a ticket in the system. I’ll approve it as soon as I see it.” The call disconnected. My hands were shaking so violently I could barely hold my phone as I filled out the form in that damn expense portal. Reason: Father’s emergency surgery. Amount: $30,000. Attachment: Critical Condition Notice. Submit. I stared at the screen. One second. Two seconds. Ten minutes later. My phone chimed. It wasn’t a bank transfer notification. It was a rejection notice from the portal. Rejected by: Evelyn Reed. Reason for rejection: Attachment format is blurry. Please rescan and upload. The blood in my veins ran ice cold. I took another photo. My hands were trembling, making the picture slightly blurry, so I took another one. Every second was a matter of life and death. I hit submit again. Five minutes later. Rejected. Reason for rejection: Requested amount is too high. Please provide a detailed itemized bill, precise to the unit price of each medication. I lost my mind. The surgery hadn’t even happened yet. The doctors were still in the ER trying to resuscitate him. Where the hell was I supposed to get a perfectly itemized bill? I texted Evelyn. “Please, I’m begging you, just approve the funds! It’s life-saving money!” “I’ll give you the itemized bill later! Evelyn, this is a human life!” Evelyn replied with a cute, smiling emoji. “Harper, it’s not that I don’t want to help.” “But financial protocols are protocols. You’re putting me in a tough spot.” “You’ve always been too undisciplined. You can’t bring the bad habits of poor people into a wealthy family.” “Carter specifically told me to help set some rules for you.” Clutching my phone, I dropped to my knees outside the operating room doors. Like a pathetic, spineless stray dog. I texted Carter. I sent voice memos. “Carter, I’m begging you.” “As long as you give me the money, I’ll do whatever you want from now on.” “I won’t cause trouble anymore. I won’t be jealous of Evelyn anymore. Please, just save my dad.” Half an hour later. Carter finally replied with an audio message. The background was loud, and his voice carried the impatient slur of someone who had been drinking. “Do what Evelyn says.” “Stop annoying me.” At that exact moment. The light above the operating room went out. The doctor walked out, pulled off his surgical mask, and shook his head with profound regret. “I’m so sorry. If only we had the funds to administer the coagulants ten minutes earlier…” I didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. I just felt the whole world suddenly go dead silent. The old man who had endured every hardship to raise me, who had collected scrap metal just to put me through college… Because of an “incorrectly formatted” expense report… Died in this glittering, prosperous city. As his body slowly grew cold, my love for Carter Sterling went completely, irrevocably cold right along with it. Over the past three days. I handled the funeral arrangements. The cremation. The burial plot. I didn’t tell Carter. Because there was no need. Wasn’t he afraid I was scamming him for money? From now on, I would never ask him for another dime. I looked at the “charity text” Carter had just sent me. The corners of my mouth curled up. He thought I was playing games to get his attention again. Little did he know. This was the last shred of dignity I was ever going to give him. A red notification dot popped up on Instagram. It was a post from Evelyn. The photo showed a high-end omakase sushi spread, along with a man’s hand. On his wrist was the Patek Philippe watch I had once dreamed of buying for Carter. The caption read: “Thanks to the boss for treating me to an amazing dinner. Some people only know how to hold their hands out for money. Such a buzzkill.” I clicked the heart button. Truly. It was the first time I had ever “liked” one of Evelyn’s posts. The next second, Carter called me. He probably saw the notification and thought I was being passive-aggressive. I didn’t answer. He texted me instead. “Harper, who are you trying to provoke with that attitude?” “Don’t let people misunderstand Evelyn. She was just doing her job.” “Unlike that post immediately. Don’t force me to freeze your card.” Doing her job? Doing her job by murdering someone? I laughed out loud. I opened her Instagram post and left a comment underneath: “The secretary climbs the corporate ladder by withholding the boss’s wife’s life-saving medical funds. What a brilliant way to get rich off a dead man. I wish you two the best. A btch and a dog, together forever.”* Send. Block. Power off. The world was finally peaceful. I started packing my bags. Honestly, there wasn’t much to pack. I had lived in this so-called home for three years. The things that actually belonged to me were pitifully few. The walk-in closet was massive. The left side was entirely filled with Carter’s bespoke Tom Ford suits. The right side consisted of several locked glass display cabinets. That was where the jewelry and designer bags were kept. The keys and fingerprint access were entirely in Evelyn’s possession. Every time I had to attend a gala, I had to submit a “prop request” to Evelyn to check out an item. When I was done, I had to return it. Once, I accidentally got a smudge of dirt on the hem of a gown. Evelyn made me write a three-page apology letter in front of the maids. She also docked my “living expenses” for the following month. Carter stood right there watching, saying casually, “Evelyn is just trying to teach you a lesson. These things are very expensive, Harper. You can’t afford to replace them.” He was right. I couldn’t afford it. I was an orphan. In their eyes, I was “bottom-tier” trash. I opened my little designated corner of the closet. Inside hung a few pilled sweaters and some faded jeans. The only decent thing there… Was the white T-shirt I had worn when I married him three years ago. Back then, I wasn’t Mrs. Sterling. I was the youngest physics graduate student at MIT, a genius girl with a limitless future. Carter said he loved my aloof, academic vibe. He said, Harper, marry me. I’ll give you a real home. I believed him. I gave up the opportunity to study abroad, ignoring the desperate pleas of my mentor. I washed my hands of science to make soup, locking myself in this gilded cage until I became nothing more than a joke. I stripped off the “cheap flea-market clothes” Carter despised so much. I put on that slightly yellowed white T-shirt. The jeans were a little loose now. Over the past three years, I had lost twenty pounds. I dragged out a battered old suitcase. I packed a few books, a few photos, and my dad’s urn. Aside from that. Nothing else in this mansion had anything to do with me. I walked down the stairs. Martha, the housekeeper, was dusting a vase. Seeing me dragging a suitcase, she rolled her eyes. “Running away from home again, Mrs. Sterling?” “Mr. Sterling said that if you walk out those doors this time, don’t even think about coming back.” “Also, Mr. Sterling wants his bone broth for dinner. Don’t forget to make it.” In this house. Even the maids looked down on me. Because they knew that I, the supposed lady of the house, didn’t even have the authority to sign their paychecks. Hell, my “allowance” was less than their monthly salary. I stopped walking and looked at Martha. “Make the soup yourself.” “Or better yet, have Evelyn make it.” Martha froze. She had clearly never seen me act with a spine before. “Excuse me? What kind of attitude is that? See if I don’t tell Mr. Sterling—” “Go ahead.” I grabbed the handle of my suitcase and walked out the front doors of the mansion without looking back. The sunlight was a little blinding. I raised a hand to block the glare. Three years. I had finally walked out of this tomb. Carter returned much faster than I expected. He had probably seen my comment and blown a gasket. Not to coax me back. But to seek justice for his precious darling. I couldn’t get an Uber near the gated community. A black Maybach screeched to a halt, cutting me off with a deafening squeal of tires. The door flew open. Carter stepped out, his face like a sheet of frost. Evelyn followed close behind him, her eyes red, looking like she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world. “Harper, what the hell is wrong with you?” Carter grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. “Apologize to Evelyn right now!” “What kind of garbage are you spewing on Instagram? What do you get out of ruining someone’s reputation?” I looked at the face that had once made my heart race. Now, all it made me feel was nausea. “Garbage?” I violently yanked my hand out of his grip and stared coldly at Evelyn. “Is it garbage, Evelyn? Don’t you know the truth?” “Three days ago, my dad was lying on an operating table waiting for money to save his life.” “Secretary Reed rejected my request, claiming the ‘format was wrong’ and the ‘amount was too high’.” “Did the CEO know about that?” Carter froze. He obviously didn’t know the details. He only knew I was asking for money, and Evelyn had told him it was against protocol. He instinctively looked back at Evelyn. Evelyn shuddered, and the tears instantly began to fall. “Carter… I didn’t…” “I was just following the company’s financial protocols.” “And… and Harper was so aggressive on the phone, I didn’t realize it was life-saving money…” “Besides, I told accounting to prep the funds right after! It was Harper who never resubmitted the ticket!” What a sharp tongue. What a brilliant excuse—”never resubmitted.” The man was dead. Was I supposed to submit an expense report to the Grim Reaper? Hearing her explanation, Carter’s frown deepened. He turned back to me, his eyes full of disappointment. “Harper, you are such a letdown.” “Evelyn was just doing things by the book. Do you really have to be this vicious?” “Isn’t your dad’s condition just a chronic issue? It couldn’t have been that serious.” “Just over a little bit of money, you go online and spread vicious rumors about Evelyn. Where are your manners?” Manners? He wanted me to show manners to a murderer? I laughed out of pure fury. “Carter Sterling, you are so blind it’s incurable.” “Since you believe her so much, we have nothing left to say.” “The divorce papers are on the desk in the study. Sign them.” I grabbed my suitcase and turned to leave. My attitude infuriated Carter. He snatched my suitcase from my hand and slammed it violently against the pavement. The suitcase was old. The zipper burst open. Its contents spilled out all over the ground. A few worn-out clothes. A few physics textbooks. And a black wooden box. The urn rolled a few times before coming to a stop right at Carter’s feet. Carter froze. He stared at the box, his pupils contracting sharply. “What is this?” I bent down, carefully picked up the urn, and dusted it off. “This is my dad.” “Are you happy now, Carter?”

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On New Year’s Eve, the night I decided to move across the country to Seattle to marry him, my mom was so furious she chased me out of the house with a broom. “That broke kid has nothing! You’ll just suffer if you marry him. If you dare go, you are no longer my daughter!” For six years in Seattle, Liam bore all the hardships alone. With his frostbitten, calloused hands, he built a happy home for us. On New Year’s Eve, I was searching through a batch of dumplings for the marked one, the one containing the custom engagement ring I bought, when I got a call from the police. They said my boyfriend had gotten into a vicious fight and I needed to come down to the precinct. I rushed over in the snow, bowing and apologizing to get him released. When I signed him out, Liam was reeking of alcohol, his face bruised. A young woman was pulling at his coat, crying her eyes out. [Liam, thank you for standing up for me. My ex-husband is abusive and has a terrible temper; he’ll definitely keep harassing me. My son and I really can’t hold on much longer.] [Leo loves the dumplings you make. Every day he waits for ‘Daddy Liam’ to come keep him company. Liam… give us a home.] I lost my mind in an instant. I smashed my phone right there in the police station, and Liam and I had the most explosive argument we’d ever had. I questioned him hysterically; he called me heartless. Finally, he gave in and promised to have his female coworker transferred to another team and never contact her again. After that, Liam never brought up Olivia again. Their chat history was reduced to purely work-related exchanges. Until I discovered Liam had a dual-system set up on his phone. They hadn’t cut contact at all. They just moved from out in the open to the shadows where I couldn’t see. He switched from his main account to an alternate account full of relatives and friends. Every photo he posted with her and her son received genuine blessings. I scrolled back to their chat history from New Year’s Eve. [Olivia: I found a ring in the dumplings. Was your girlfriend planning to propose? I’ll bring it back to you.] [Liam: No need, just pretend you didn’t see it. I don’t want to get married right now anyway.] Fine. Since that’s what he wants. I’ve been away from home for six years. It’s time I went back. Chapter 1 Liam was busy in the kitchen. “Maya, I’ve reheated the food a few times now. It probably doesn’t taste that great anymore.” “What do you want to eat? I can order delivery, or we can go out. That sushi place down the street is still…” He turned his head and met my reddened eyes. Liam’s expression instantly softened. “Alright, stop throwing a tantrum.” “My baby is the most understanding, right?” I dodged his touch and said coldly: “Get the dumplings back.” Liam’s smile froze. He untied his apron, balled it up, and threw it hard at my feet. He pointed a finger at my face, shaking it a few times, before gritting his teeth and forcing out an “Okay.” The call connected. Olivia said her son had eaten the dumplings. “I’m so sorry. How much were they? I’ll pay you back.” Liam’s face was losing its composure. A plate of dumplings had turned into an endless farce. “It’s fine, Maya is just acting like a child. I’ll buy her more…” “Liam, it’s not the same,” I interrupted him. Liam suddenly smashed his phone. It shattered into pieces, several shards bouncing off my arm and drawing blood. His volume suddenly spiked: “What the hell do you want from me today!” “It’s just a fucking plate of dumplings! Maya, your targeting of Olivia is too obvious.” I was stunned. Liam pulled a thick stack of cash from his wallet and threw it at my face. The bills scattered, and mixed in with them were three ticket stubs from an amusement park. “Is this enough?” He pulled out his credit card. And threw it hard. “Is this enough?!” “I’m paying you back for her!” My eardrums throbbed. This was the first time in six years Liam had lost his temper with me so viciously, like he wanted to eat me alive. My chest felt tight, a dull ache spreading. I was so sad I couldn’t speak. I could only fumble through the photo gallery on my phone, trying to find the evidence from five years ago when he said he would marry me today. But he had clearly forgotten. “Enough. Let’s both cool off for the night.” Liam pushed my phone away. “Maya, you really need to reflect on your own jealousy.” The door slammed shut. I started dry heaving uncontrollably. I clutched the fabric over my chest tightly. It felt like only by doing this could I ease the suffocating feeling. When I was tired of crying and gasping for air, I climbed up from the floor and started packing my meager belongings. Six years ago, I came here with nothing but reckless courage. Six years later, I’m leaving completely alone. Olivia made a post on Facebook. The caption read: [The happiest New Year’s Eve.] The background was a high-end restaurant. Liam was holding the kid, and Olivia was leaning against his side. While I was leaving, they had gone out for a feast. The table was filled with food. What Liam had been reheating in the kitchen earlier were their leftovers. It included Olivia’s favorite dish, shrimp—which I am deathly allergic to. When he was reheating the food, he didn’t even think to pick them out for me. Liam’s assistant left a comment: “Wow, that was fast. Olivia’s charm is no joke.” “Liam’s been saying at the office every day that he’s never getting married, but he still ended up falling for Olivia.” The screen went dark, reflecting my pale face. My hands were shaking as I finished packing. At the very bottom of my luggage, pressed flat, was my economy train ticket to Seattle from six years ago. Thirty-two hours. But my six years were never taken seriously by Liam. 2 It’s actually laughable. After living in Seattle for so many years, I had no friends, no job, and the only money I had left was what Liam threw at me last night. All I learned to do was revolve around him. Learned to cook and make soup for him, learned to put him first, learned to empty my savings just to buy a twenty-thousand-dollar watch to make him happy. I was such an idiot. Stupid enough to hand my heart over with no reservations, letting him trample all over it. “One ticket back to New York, please.” The ticketing agent suddenly spoke up: “Hey? Are you that girl from six years ago?” I looked up, a bit of color finally returning to my pale face: “You remember me?” The lady smiled: “Who wouldn’t remember you two?” “Back then, your boyfriend waited for you outside the station for a day and a night. The snow piled up on his shoulders, he looked like an ice sculpture, but he refused to leave, terrified he’d miss you.” “We told him to go to the break room to grab a cup of tea and warm up. The kid smiled awkwardly and said he was starting a business, spent all his money buying you a gift, and couldn’t even afford a bus ride. He walked five hours in the cold just to get to the station.” I listened, completely lost in thought. My chest felt tight and bitter. From an abandoned building, to a tiny rental, to the luxury penthouse we lived in now. The boy swallowed all the hardships alone. With his frostbitten, calloused hands, he picked up every brick and tile to build happiness, to build a home. He said: “We won’t have to be afraid of the winter anymore.” “Maya, to be honest, I was afraid you’d come looking for me, but I was also afraid you wouldn’t.” “I was afraid you’d suffer with me.” “But I was also terrified that you didn’t love me.” He cried that day. He held me so tight it felt like he was trying to merge our bodies. My tears fell with his. It was supposed to be happy, so why did it feel so incredibly painful and unbearable now? “Miss, your ticket.” My fingertips trembled slightly. It felt like I wasn’t taking a ticket, but a knife to sever the past. “Don’t cry.” The ticket agent glanced at the expensive jade bracelet on my wrist and seemed to relax a little: “When you support a man from nothing, don’t talk about feelings, talk about money. Talk about whether he’s willing to spend it on you.” I nodded. The ticket was crumpled in my tight grip. Before I could board, Liam caught up. He sprinted toward me just like he did six years ago, pulling me into a tight embrace. I could clearly hear his chaotic breathing, his rapid heartbeat, and his voice shaking uncontrollably: “Don’t go…” “Maya, I was just angry, I didn’t mean to drive you away…” Liam tore up my ticket, scooped me up in his arms, and shoved me into the passenger seat of his car. “Aren’t you bothered by me hanging out with Olivia?” “I transferred her to another team. I’ll keep my distance from now on.” I stayed silent. I stared blankly at the ornament swaying with the car—a gift from Olivia. The cabin smelled entirely of citrus—Olivia’s perfume. The glove compartment, which should have been filled with my things, was now stuffed with kid’s snacks and a few lipsticks that weren’t mine. I blinked, my eyes feeling incredibly dry. Liam didn’t notice anything wrong with me, still rambling on about taking me to Hokkaido for winter vacation. I let out a soft sigh. I didn’t even have the energy to nod anymore. 3 Liam never mentioned Olivia again. Their chat history was strictly work-related. A clean break. “Maya, I’m running for VP. Work is going to be crazy busy for a while.” His voice came through the phone receiver. It didn’t sound quite real. “I wired some money to your card. Go out, walk around, buy something you like. Don’t focus all your energy on me.” Every day when he got home, I was already asleep. When he left in the morning, I was still dreaming. There was breakfast he’d warmed up in the microwave; the dirty clothes I’d worn would be washed and hung on the balcony. Every corner of the house had traces of Liam. I could see them. But I could no longer grasp him. I could feel that we were drifting further and further apart. Our relationship was rusting. Even if we aggressively polished away the rust, it seemed no different than before. But it had lost a lot of its weight. Floating in the air, swaying uncontrollably with the slightest breeze. I originally wanted to take the money and leave, but the biggest variable was that I was pregnant. At first, I was lethargic, had no appetite, and threw up constantly. I told Liam. The next day, he bought a huge bag of medicine and told me to take it. He didn’t even leave instructions before rushing off again. It wasn’t until I felt so sick from the pills that I went to the hospital and found out I was pregnant. “We have to wait for further tests to see if we can keep the baby,” the doctor frowned. “Taking so many antibiotics… I’m afraid the baby might be born with defects.” In the end, two nurses had to carry me out. Outside the examination room, I spent the most agonizing six hours of my life. The back of my hands were covered in bruises from me pinching myself. My eyes were wide open, leaking moisture and guilt. I blamed myself for not realizing I was pregnant sooner. Why wasn’t I more careful when taking the medicine? Why did I just shove everything into my mouth without a second thought the moment Liam handed it to me? “Everything looks fine for now. Come back for a check-up next month.” I felt a wave of relief. My mood improved, and I even ate an extra bowl of rice for dinner. Liam didn’t get home until midnight. Reeking of alcohol, with a cut on his cheek bleeding and a black eye. “Did you get into a fight?” He mumbled something vague and went straight into the bathroom. His work phone, tossed on the bed, pinged. [Olivia: Liam, thank you so much for standing up for me today. Otherwise, my ex-husband would have kept harassing me.] [Olivia: I felt so helpless. If it wasn’t for you being there lately, Leo and I really wouldn’t have made it. Leo really likes you. He waits for ‘Daddy Liam’ every day. Liam, give us a home.] The words repeatedly battered my nerves. It hurt so much. My insides felt like they were going to explode. Daddy Liam… Then what was my baby supposed to call him? Give them a home. What about my home? The home I’ve longed for since I was a child, a place to shelter me from the storm, was gone. Torn to shreds by Liam’s own hands. I bit the tip of my tongue, using the pain to force myself to stay awake as I scrolled through their entire chat history. They hadn’t cut contact. They had merely moved from the open to the shadows where I couldn’t see. From Liam’s main account, to an alternate account filled with relatives and friends. Every photo he posted with her and her son received genuine blessings. I had been left behind again. [Olivia: I found a ring in the dumplings. Was your girlfriend planning to propose? I’ll bring it back to you.] [Liam: No need, just pretend you didn’t see it. I don’t want to get married right now anyway.] I could no longer maintain any semblance of dignity. With trembling hands, I sent a message back: [You love being the other woman that much? Keep my trash, it’s a gift.] “Maya, what are you doing with my phone!” 4 Liam’s gentleness and consideration always vanished completely the moment his boundaries were crossed. He yanked me, making me stumble. I fell beside the bed, ignoring the dull ache in my lower abdomen, scrambled up, and slapped him. Liam’s face swelled even more. He stared dead at the phone in my hand. “Give it to me.” I didn’t move. He lunged for it. Pinching my hand, prying my fingers open one by one. My knuckles made horrifying cracking sounds, completely contorted. Amidst my screams of pain, he snatched the phone back. “You can’t unsend it, Liam. It’s too late.” I started laughing loudly. Like I was gloating, or like I’d completely lost my mind. “I just called her that. A homewrecker, a homewrecker. Does your heart ache for her?” “Olivia is a homewrecker…” Smack— I was thrown onto the bed. All the words were slapped back into my stomach. They churned around, turning into pain, into nausea, into vines covered in thorns. Then they tore me apart from the inside out. My eyeball throbbed with pain. I even suspected it had burst; otherwise, how could so much warmth be flowing out? Besides blood, could it be tears? “Do you realize you’re poking right at Olivia’s wound!” Liam roared. “Maya, you’re driving her to her death!” “Will you only be satisfied when she’s dead?!” My voice was incredibly hoarse. “Yes.” “Go to hell. Both of you, go to hell.” Liam went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, forced it into my hand, and held it to his own neck. It felt like a mutually assured destruction. “Come on, kill me.” “Kill me if you have the fucking guts!” “Maya, I never said I wouldn’t marry you. Olivia’s situation hasn’t been resolved yet, and I don’t want to divert my attention to you right now.” “You waited six years, are you really lacking this tiny bit of time! Are you lacking this tiny bit of love!” Yes. I am lacking. I’m pregnant. I don’t want my child to follow in my footsteps; I don’t want them to be born into a broken home. He said I was poking at Olivia’s pain. Wasn’t he doing the exact same to me? And he was doing it by tearing the wound open with his hands and violently twisting inside. His phone rang. A child cried: “Mommy ran out crying. I’m so scared something will happen to her… boohoo, Daddy, go find her…” Liam hauled me up from the bed. “Let’s go. Come with me. Let’s see what you’ve driven Olivia to!” “Maya, there needs to be a limit to your selfishness!” The car sped down the highway. Soon, Olivia came into view. Liam dragged me over to her, forcing me to apologize. He pressed down on my shoulders, forcing me to kneel in the snow. My knees, separated only by a thin layer of clothing, stung with the cold. “Maya, I can tolerate all your little tantrums, but this time is different.” “Olivia has depression from the divorce; she can’t handle any stimulation.” The snow fell heavier. The more I shivered, the heavier the pressure on my shoulders grew. People walked by. I suddenly felt very envious of them. Without cracks, snow falling on them is just snow, not fine salt rubbed into a wound. “Liam, I’m pregnant…” I offered a despairing smile. A warm flow spread beneath me, slowly dyeing the snow red. “I can’t handle any stimulation either…” 5 At first, Liam didn’t notice the blood at his feet. All his attention was on Olivia. It wasn’t until the woman showed a terrified expression that he realized I couldn’t hold myself up. I was swaying, about to pass out. “Maya, why are you bleeding so much…” Blood soaked my nightgown. And it soaked his pant leg too. I was so exhausted I couldn’t utter a single word, collapsing softly into his arms, barely breathing. Ironically, it was Olivia who repeated the words he hadn’t heard clearly. “Maya said she’s pregnant…” She had been there. Of course she knew what this much blood meant. “Hurry, get her to the hospital.” Pedal to the metal, blowing through countless red lights. At the hospital, Liam just carried me and charged inside. The more panicked he was, the more bumpy the ride, and the more blood flowed out. The metallic smell was so strong that people around us couldn’t help but cover their faces. I was so cold, and in so much pain. Shivering against Liam’s back, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. I don’t want it anymore. Money, love, or a home—I don’t want any of it anymore. I just want to run far away, to a place where I can never be hurt again. As far away from Liam as possible. Away from him, away from my pain. When the doctors wheeled me into the emergency room, Liam tried to follow. They argued at the door, and it finally took several nurses to hold him back as he went crazy. The moment before the doors closed, our eyes met. Time seemed to freeze for a few seconds. His face slowly contorted, morphing into a look I didn’t recognize. Bang— Completely separated into two different worlds. The anesthesia was cold, flowing through my veins into my bones. I grabbed the doctor’s white coat, using all my strength to plead: “Don’t save the baby…” “Get rid of it…” Being born would only mean falling into endless pain. I had no confidence I could give the child the life they deserved. So it’s better they don’t come. The doctors in the ER were silent, seemingly infected by my despair, all showing looks of pity. As my consciousness blurred, I felt like I was back in the past. We didn’t have a house, but we had a small home. The home held me and Liam. “When we have a baby, we’ll decorate a beautiful nursery for them.” “We’ll watch them grow, and when they’re older, we’ll move to a more spacious place.” “The kid goes to school and plays, I’ll make the money to support the family, and you just focus on loving the two of us.” Liam used to mutter these things constantly. “Our family of three will be happy forever.” He looked so serious, as if the things he was saying would happen tomorrow. Tomorrow came. Liam, but the happiness won’t.

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After spending five years of sleepless nights working overtime in an overseas research lab, I had finally saved enough to pay off the massive research debt Arthur Sterling had accumulated. I was so excited to give him the ultimate surprise. I brought our daughter, Lily, back to the States, my heart brimming with anticipation of our family finally reuniting. But when we arrived at the luxury high-rise apartment Arthur usually stayed in, the concierge at the front desk gave me a strange look. “Mr. Sterling moved out ages ago. That penthouse has been empty for six months. Are you sure you have the right address?” I froze. Confused and unsettled, I took Lily’s hand and headed straight to the luxury hotel where Sterling Corp was hosting its highly anticipated product launch. I tried to slip into the backstage area but was immediately stopped by security. “Ma’am, you can’t go back there without a VIP pass. Mr. Sterling is hosting the charity gala in the main ballroom tonight. He isn’t taking personal visitors.” Just as I was trying to figure out what to do, the massive digital billboard in the lobby flashed a breaking news alert: “Sterling Corp CEO Arthur Sterling hosts million-dollar tech launch and charity gala, walking the red carpet hand-in-hand with business partner Chloe Sinclair. The two shared a picture-perfect, heartwarming moment.” A second later, my phone buzzed. It was a voice text from Arthur, his tone flat and distant: “Evelyn, the new lab equipment I ordered just got delivered to the lobby. Go to the front desk and sign for it.” In the background of the audio, a woman’s voice chimed in, dripping with amusement: “The bet is over. How much longer are you going to keep stringing Evelyn along with that fake marriage certificate? Playing the weak, struggling entrepreneur for all these years… aren’t you bored of it?” It turned out, I was the only one who had been taking this life seriously. It turned out that after all this time, I was the one who had been entirely written out of the script. Just then, one of Arthur’s groomsmen and oldest friends hurried over. He grabbed my arm with a look of pure disdain and dragged me to the side, hissing, “How dare someone like you show your face here? Aren’t you afraid Arthur will cut off the living expenses for you and your kid?” I gripped my phone in silence. Suddenly, the color drained from his face. He covered his mouth, looking at me with sudden realization. “Wait… do you actually not know?” He immediately backpedaled, his voice panicked. “I was just talking nonsense. I have somewhere to be.” Watching him practically run away, little Lily tugged at my sleeve. She looked up at me with big, innocent eyes and asked, “Mommy, what does it mean to be written out of the script?” I forced a bitter smile, my voice breaking as I whispered, “I guess it looks a lot like Mommy right now.” Chapter 1 1 It was probably the very first time I hadn’t replied to Arthur’s message immediately. My phone vibrated on the table. He was calling me. The background noise on his end was loud—clinking glasses, applause, and men laughing. It sounded exactly like a high-end gala. “What’s going on? Didn’t you see my text?” I ignored the accusatory edge in his voice and simply asked quietly: “Arthur, where are you right now?” “Where else would I be? I’m at the convention center for a partnership signing ceremony. Look, I don’t have time for this. Just remember to download the new project files from my email.” Before I could even get another word out, he hung up. Staring at the cold “Call Ended” screen, I tried to pull the corners of my mouth into a smile, but my face felt frozen. I realized I had never truly known Arthur Sterling. I never expected him to lie with such effortless ease, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Memories from a few years ago surfaced—the day we parted at the airport. He had solemnly shared his email passwords and calendar with me, promising that this way, we would always be synchronized. No distance, no misunderstandings. “Complete honesty is the only way we survive the distance,” he had said, his eyes full of tenderness. But for the past few years, I had been so drowning in lab work and paying off his debts that I never had the time or energy to actually check those shared calendars or emails. Now, acting on instinct, I unlocked my phone and opened his pinned inbox. The most recent automated forward hit me like a physical blow. The subject line read: “VIP Reservation: The Apex Room – Partnership Gala.” I stared blankly at the address. It was the most exclusive, astronomically expensive restaurant in the city. Arthur was there right now, spending a beautiful evening with the people he actually valued. Meanwhile, I was left staring at a screen, realizing every ounce of his affection had been a fabricated lie. 2 Holding five-year-old Lily’s hand, I walked into the grand lobby of the Sterling Corp headquarters. From a distance, I spotted Arthur standing in the VIP reception area. He was crouched down, gently and patiently tying the shoelaces of a little boy in a sharp miniature suit, looking up occasionally to make the boy giggle. The sight hit me so hard I stopped dead in my tracks. Lily was five years old now. A memory pierced through me—shortly after Lily was born, she had a terrible fever that lasted for three days. She cried non-stop. The doctor told us that a father’s soothing presence could help calm her down. But back then, Arthur had just stood by the hospital window, his back to us, and coldly tossed over his shoulder: “I’m not used to being around kids.” Even so, Lily had always tried so desperately to get close to him, yet she never received even a shred of warmth in return. Now, watching this man smile with such tender patience at a child from his new family, the truth finally slammed into me. He never lacked the ability to care for a child. He just never had any intention of loving mine. A harsh reprimand snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked down and realized my daughter was no longer holding my hand. I frantically looked around. Lily was standing right in front of Arthur, her little head tilted up, calling out “Daddy” with eyes full of desperate hope. “Daddy, look! I made this for you out of construction paper. It’s a special present just for you!” And then, the unthinkable happened. Arthur stared at the little girl with a look of utter bewilderment. He casually batted away the colorful paper Lily was offering him. “What kind of scam is this? Are kids doing shakedowns now?” “I only have one son. I don’t know you.” The moment the words left his mouth, Arthur impatiently brushed away Lily’s tiny hand as she reached for him again. He scooped up the little boy next to him and turned to leave. I sprinted forward, wrapping my arms around a sobbing Lily, and stepped directly into Arthur’s path, blocking his exit. “Arthur, what is the meaning of this?” Perhaps he hadn’t expected to see me here, or maybe he never imagined I would return to the States without telling him. For a split second, the man froze, his face a canvas of pure, unadulterated shock. A moment later, Arthur tightened his grip on the boy in his arms. When he spoke, his voice was low, carrying a rare tremor of panic and guilt: “How… how are you back?” As he said it, realization seemed to dawn on him. He snapped his head to look at Lily, who was wiping her tears. “Is she… Lily?” My lips twitched into a bitter, hollow smile. She was five years old. And her own father couldn’t even recognize her. “Arthur, aren’t you going to explain this?” “You…” Before he could answer, a fleet of luxury black SUVs pulled up outside the glass doors of the lobby. A crowd of people stepped out. When I saw the woman leading the group, an involuntary shudder ran through me, and a dull ache settled in my chest. “Sister. It’s been a long time.” It was Chloe Sinclair. My half-sister. Years ago, she and her father had systematically destroyed my family, driven my mother to an early grave, and pushed me into absolute despair. Meeting Chloe’s provocative, triumphant gaze, countless agonizing memories flooded my mind. I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. “Why are we standing out here? It’s freezing.” Chloe expertly linked her arm through Arthur’s. Her tone was intimate, laced with the casual arrogance of a victor. Before I could even speak, she announced loudly, making sure everyone in the lobby could hear: “Sister, Arthur has already told me everything.” “You insisted on clinging to him, willing to be the other woman just to stay relevant. But Arthur and I have our own child now. It’s time for you to let go.” “We’ve been married for years. Are you really trying to follow in your mother’s footsteps and become a homewrecker in someone else’s marriage?” The lobby went dead silent. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on me, whispering. Some looked at me with blatant disgust and mockery. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. I looked at the man standing beside her and asked, my voice barely a whisper: “Arthur… is this true?” Before he could answer, Lily pulled out of my grasp. She reached into my purse and pulled out our marriage certificate. She threw herself at Arthur’s legs, her tiny voice choked with sobs: “Daddy, didn’t you marry Mommy? Why do you have a baby with someone else? Did Lily do something bad to make you mad?” “Look, this is your and Mommy’s marriage certificate. Mommy carries it with her everywhere.” Chloe stepped forward, ignoring the little girl’s cries, and snatched the document from Lily’s hands. She flipped it open and examined it in front of the crowd. The next second, she held it up and waved it at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm and contempt: “Sister, you really are living in a fantasy world.” “This marriage certificate is completely fake. It doesn’t even have an official county seal. How much longer were you planning on playing make-believe?” Then, she pulled a genuine, official marriage license from her designer bag and held it up to my face. “Here. Let me show you what a real one looks like.” “Oh, by the way, Arthur and I took a video the day we went to City Hall. Want to watch?” She shoved her phone in my face. The video showed the two of them smiling brightly, signing the official registry. On the screen, Arthur’s smile was radiant. The sheer joy radiating from him pierced my eyes, forcing hot tears to well up. “Ignore her. Let’s go inside.” Arthur finally spoke. But when he said it, he didn’t even spare me a single glance. Seeing him turn to leave, Lily lunged forward and wrapped her little arms around his leg. “Daddy, please don’t leave Lily…” He frowned coldly. He forcefully pried her tiny fingers off his leg, his voice like freezing iron: “I am not your dad.” With that, Arthur walked deeper into the grand lobby, not looking back once. 3 I can’t remember how I walked out of that suffocating exhibit hall. I only remember pulling Lily into a desperate embrace when Chloe Sinclair appeared in front of me again. She stood on the marble steps, looking down at me from above the crowd, her eyes filled with absolute disdain. “Evelyn Hayes, you were destined to be crushed under my heel for the rest of your life.” She waved a VIP auction paddle in her hand. The charity painting that had originally been named after my family—my child and me—had just been bought by her for an astronomical sum. The applause and murmurs from the crowd surrounded us, as if the entire world had gathered just to witness my humiliation. Chloe smiled, taking her time as she handed over a signed receipt, her voice sounding like a judge delivering a sentence: “Did you really think anyone here would validate your little delusion of a family? Your pathetic memories and fake photos mean absolutely nothing in the real world.” I held my daughter tight, a freezing chill spreading through my chest. Still crying, Lily pulled a crumpled photograph from her backpack—our only family photo—and held it up to the crowd, her voice trembling but defiant: “This is Mommy and me’s home! We really were here, and we really loved Daddy…” Chloe let out a sharp, cruel laugh. She snatched the photo, threw it onto the pavement, and ground her stiletto heel into it. “Art is a mirror of reality. You two were erased from the picture a long time ago, and you certainly don’t exist in this family.” Her words sliced through my dignity like a scalpel. And Arthur, from beginning to end, never looked back. He just led his new family into the glittering, wealthy crowd. I stood outside the massive glass doors of the exhibit hall, holding my weeping daughter. In that moment, I realized that every single shred of warmth we had ever clung to had been ruthlessly, permanently stripped away. That night, after finally coaxing Lily to sleep, I collapsed onto the sofa in my study. My phone lit up. It was a text from Arthur: “Things got out of hand today. Don’t overthink it.” Reading those words, a wave of unspeakable bitterness surged up my throat, choking me. Arthur was always like this. He would shove you off a cliff, then toss down a crumb of comfort once you hit the bottom. The phone buzzed again. This time, it was Chloe: “Since you’re back, come to the corporate office tomorrow. It’s time we finally settled the inheritance issue once and for all.” Looking at my sleeping daughter, I took a deep, silent breath, picked up my phone, and called my best friend. “Hey, it’s late. What’s up?” “Are you free tomorrow? Can you watch Lily for the day?” “Lily? Since when do you have a daughter? With who?” I paused for a second. “Arthur.” The line went dead quiet before my friend’s shocked voice exploded: “Arthur Sterling?! Didn’t you guys break up seven years ago? How do you have a kid with him?” “And if I remember correctly, Arthur has been married to someone else for years!” She paused, as if suddenly connecting the dots. “Girl… please tell me you didn’t love him so much you agreed to be his mistress…” The corner of my mouth twitched, but I couldn’t form a smile. My eyes felt like they were made of ice. “It turns out… from the very beginning, I was the only one living in a lie.” 4 After ending the video conference with Arthur, I sat frozen, staring at my laptop screen. A string of messages from him popped up, leaving my mind entirely blank. The first was an address to a new corporate housing unit. “I’m swamped with work right now. You and Lily should move back into the apartment you were renting.” “Starting tomorrow, organize the physical archives in the office. Bring me lunch in the conference room at noon. I still prefer your cooking.” “Also, the day after tomorrow is Chloe’s birthday. As her older sister, don’t forget to prepare a nice gift.” As the messages rolled in, a blind, suffocating rage rushed straight to my head. Even now, Arthur offered absolutely zero explanation. Instead, he seamlessly slipped back into ordering me around like an unpaid servant, acting as if nothing had happened. He had even forgotten that today was Lily’s birthday. My fingers trembling slightly, I slowly typed out my response: “Arthur, do you even remember what day today is?” The chat went silent. He didn’t reply. Exhausted to my bones, I rested my head against the sofa and somehow drifted off to sleep. The next morning, while I was still half-asleep, I heard Lily’s cheerful voice right next to my ear: “Mommy, look! Daddy sent you a reward voucher!” I took the phone on instinct. Arthur had finally replied sometime in the early hours of the morning: “What day? Are you short on money again? You don’t need to make up excuses if you want an allowance. Don’t forget to use the digital voucher the company gave you.” Lily had already excitedly clicked the link to redeem the “reward.” It was a $2.50 digital gift card for the company cafeteria. It wasn’t even enough to buy the cheapest coffee on the menu. 5 Carrying a massive stack of project reports, I pushed open the doors to the press conference. Everyone was already seated. Chloe sat dead center on the main stage, looking every bit the confident, decisive executive. Seeing me walk in, the corner of her lips quirked up. “Since everyone is here, let’s officially begin.” She scanned the room, her tone authoritative. “As you all remember, ten years ago, my father’s dying wish stated clearly: Whoever launches an autonomous AI medical system first will be the true leader of this corporation’s future.” “Today, I am proud to announce that under my leadership, our team has successfully completed the development of this system.” “This breakthrough would not have been possible without the support and collaboration of a very important person.” Chloe’s eyes locked onto me as she continued, “Now, please welcome my brother-in-law, Arthur Sterling, to present the development history and technical highlights of our AI medical system.” The moment she finished speaking. Arthur, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, confidently strode up to the podium in the multimedia hall. He opened the PowerPoint and flawlessly presented the data to the gathered media and investors. Every single slide, every data point projected on that screen, was the blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into my non-profit educational tech initiatives over the last five years. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I rushed to the front, grabbed Arthur’s arm, my eyes red and my voice a suppressed, furious hiss: “Arthur, what the hell are you doing?” But the next second, he forcefully shook off my grip. He turned to face the audience and the cameras, his voice cool and unwavering: “Ladies and gentlemen, there is a matter I must clarify publicly today.” “A year ago, Chloe and I co-founded the smart remote learning initiative. While Evelyn Hayes was involved in the preliminary research, the core breakthroughs that made this system possible were achieved by our joint team.” “However, I am fully aware that this system was originally built upon the foundation of Evelyn’s years of non-profit work and trial-and-error. I believe her contributions are valid and deserve recognition.” Low murmurs rippled through the hall. Some questioned my actual involvement, while others showered Arthur and Chloe with praise for their “generosity.” I looked up at Arthur from the crowd. Our eyes met, but he quickly looked away, refusing to engage. For years, I had poured every ounce of my energy into advancing educational equality through tech. I had been entirely transparent with Arthur about every single step. He knew better than anyone how important this project was to me, and he knew exactly how much suffering it had cost me. I never imagined he would trample on my trust and publicly team up with someone else to discredit my life’s work. I was about to speak up and defend myself when my phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket. It was my best friend. She was panicked. Lily was missing. I forgot about the conference, the project, everything. I scrambled toward the exit in a blind panic, but Arthur grabbed my arm, stopping me: “Evelyn, you owe Chloe an apology!” “Arthur, your daughter is missing!” I screamed at him, my eyes blazing red. The color instantly drained from Arthur’s face. Panic finally broke through his calm facade: “Lily? What happened to Lily?” Chloe quickly rushed over, grabbing his hand and whispering soothingly: “It’s fine, it’s fine. The nanny just texted me. She said Lily is just fast asleep at home.” Hearing this, Arthur let out a massive sigh of relief, his posture relaxing completely. Looking at the man who could switch his concern off so effortlessly, I gritted my teeth, ripped my arm away, and bolted out of the hall. I left him with one final sentence: “Arthur, you don’t even deserve to be called a father!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “395318”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was on my way to deliver lunch to my brother when I was scrolling through Reddit and saw a post: “What should I do if I’m falling for my coworker’s wife?” I casually dropped a comment: Don’t be a homewrecker. The Original Poster (OP) replied almost instantly: “The woman I love just happened to marry the wrong guy before she met me. How does that make me a homewrecker?” “My coworker doesn’t appreciate her at all. Look, this is the lunch his wife brought him. He waited until she left, then tossed it aside. He didn’t even take a bite.” “A guy who doesn’t appreciate her doesn’t deserve her.” I clicked on the attached photo. Wait a minute… aren’t those the barbecue ribs I just dropped off for my brother? 1 My heart started pounding. I quickly scrolled back to the top of his post, analyzing every single detail. The OP wrote that his coworker had just gotten married two months ago. Usually, he didn’t pay attention to his employees’ personal lives, but this guy was just too much. “It’s bad enough he makes his wife drive all the way across town every day to bring him lunch, but he acts like he’s royalty. He eats, pushes the containers away, and expects her to clean it all up. He doesn’t care about her at all.” The more I read, the more familiar it sounded. Coincidentally, my brother had also just gotten married two months ago. Before the wedding, my brother and I made a bet. If he actually managed to win over his dream girl and marry her, I’d deliver his lunch to the office every day for two months. To my shock, the idiot actually pulled it off. I had to honor the bet and essentially became his personal Uber Eats driver. The OP continued: “I couldn’t stand watching it, so I privately hinted to my coworker that making his wife clean up after him wasn’t a good look, and that she was working hard too. He just brushed it off and said, ‘It’s her job, don’t worry about it.’” The OP was getting increasingly worked up: “He’s an absolute jerk. Sometimes I watch her carrying that heavy insulated lunchbox, sitting quietly while he eats, and then silently packing up to leave. She looks so lonely and mistreated. It breaks my heart.” The comment section was flooded with people agreeing: “Guys like that are the worst. They manipulate their wives but put in zero actual effort.” “I need to know who this is! The poor girl is too blinded by love. Tell her to run!” The OP sighed in the comments: “Exactly. She’s so kind, beautiful, gentle, and understanding. My coworker doesn’t deserve her at all.” He added: “And he complains about her cooking! She works so hard to make those meals, and he critiques them! If she were my wife, I wouldn’t care what it tasted like, I’d eat every last bite! She treats him so well, and he just bosses her around. I genuinely can’t stand it.” Okay, so… to mess with my brother, I occasionally dumped extra salt in his food. Naturally, he’d complain and refuse to eat it. I never imagined his coworker would misinterpret that as an abusive husband terrorizing his wife. Someone in the comments asked the OP what he planned to do. He responded bluntly: “What exactly do I need to do to make them get a divorce?” Redditors were telling him to calm down and not do anything crazy, but he was clearly obsessing over it. His replies were dripping with fixation: “I just can’t take it anymore. If this keeps up, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back.” “It was pouring rain a few days ago. He chose to play Call of Duty on his lunch break instead of driving his wife home. He has a car! He could have at least let her take it! Instead, he made her stand in the freezing rain waiting for a ride. He’s a monster!” Reading that, my memory instantly flashed back to that rainy afternoon. My brother had scarfed down his food because he was rushing to log onto a multiplayer lobby. He didn’t even look at me, just Venmo’d me a hundred bucks and told me to get an Uber. While I was standing on the curb waiting for my ride, I got soaked. My hair and shoulders were drenched. Apparently, this guy had watched the entire scene unfold. Also, the reason I don’t drive his car is that I don’t have my license yet… The further I scrolled, the more the pieces clicked together. The coworker who showed off his wife, left her in the rain, and didn’t appreciate her… was undeniably my brother, Mason. And the “mistreated wife” this OP was fiercely defending, obsessing over, and deemed too good for this world… was me. I stood on the sidewalk for a solid five minutes, completely stunned. My brain rapidly flipped through the faces of Mason’s coworkers I had seen recently. Who the hell was it? 2 Whenever I dropped off food for Mason, I never really paid attention to anyone else around. Now that I was trying to remember, my mind was blank. I couldn’t grasp a single clue. Unable to figure it out, I made a silent vow: tomorrow, I was going to investigate. Normally, I ignored his coworkers, but today I kept my eyes peeled. Just as I handed Mason his lunch, a guy named Kevin walked out of the crowd and approached me. He chatted me up with a friendly smile and casually found an excuse to get my Instagram. My stomach dropped. Could… could it be him? But the moment I walked out of the office building, the Reddit post updated. The OP’s tone was so sour you could practically smell the jealousy: “I realized today that my coworker truly doesn’t give a damn about his wife. Another guy from our department went out of his way to flirt with her today, smiling like an idiot, and her husband didn’t even try to stop it. If you truly love someone, how could you let them freely exchange numbers with other men?” The commenters saw right through him: “I’m just sensing a deeply, deeply jealous soul here.” “Let’s be real, OP. You’re just mad you weren’t the one getting her Instagram.” The OP’s reply popped up almost instantly, practically seething: “I’ve never even spoken a word to her! And they just openly exchanged socials right in front of me.” “I don’t care anymore. I’m making everyone in that department work mandatory overtime tonight.” Staring at the screen, a chill ran down my spine. I instantly caught the most important detail. This guy had some serious authority in the company. He might even be top management. Otherwise, how could he force an entire department to work overtime with a single sentence? But I remembered Mason telling me his direct manager was a balding guy with a massive beer belly… Honestly, I had considered clearing up the misunderstanding quietly, worried that this might hurt Mason’s reputation at work. But seeing how unhinged and extreme the OP was getting, I abandoned that idea immediately. If he found out the truth while in this manic state, God knows what he might do. Right now, my only priority was avoiding the radar of this creepy, obsessed boss. 3 For the next few days, I continued my lunch deliveries, but I treaded incredibly carefully. I kept my head down, secretly observing everyone, but I still couldn’t lock onto the guy hiding in the shadows. One afternoon, just as I got on the bus heading home, my sister-in-law, Emma, called me. “Harper, are you on the bus yet?” “Mason said he has to leave for a sudden, out-of-state business trip this afternoon. He needs you to swing by and bring his ID to the office.” But the bus doors had already closed, and it was a hassle to get off and turn around. “Never mind, I’ll just make the trip myself,” Emma sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on. Mason has been insanely busy lately. The mandatory overtime was bad enough, but now a sudden deployment out of state?” Hearing that, I felt a twinge of guilt. The mastermind behind this brutal overtime was almost certainly the Reddit poster trying to punish Mason. When I got off the bus near the office, I saw Emma standing across the street with the lunchbox. Suddenly, my idiot, hopeless-romantic brother dashed out of the building like a golden retriever, pulled Emma into a tight hug, and started kissing the top of her head, completely oblivious to the public setting. I stood on the opposite sidewalk, rolling my eyes so hard I practically saw my own brain. Come on, guys. It’s broad daylight. But right at that moment. From behind me, a low, suppressed, and faintly dangerous voice drifted over my shoulder. “He acts like that with another woman right in front of you, and you aren’t even angry?” My heart leaped into my throat. I instinctively spun around. Standing before me was a tall, incredibly handsome man with a sharp, tailored suit and deep, striking eyes. He stood out effortlessly against the bustling street. I stared at that familiar, dazzling face, and the words tumbled out before I could stop them: “Caleb? Caleb Sterling?” Caleb clearly froze. A flicker of shock crossed his eyes, and his tone carried a trace of confusion. “You know me?” I looked at him, my heart inexplicably skipping a beat, but I put on my best innocent, sweet smile. “Of course I do! I graduated from Lincoln High too. My name is Harper. You were basically a legend there. When you were a senior, I was a freshman. You were the ultimate crush for half the girls in my grade.” I paused, deliberately pretending I hadn’t heard his opening line. I tilted my head, blinking innocently. “Oh, by the way, what were you just saying? A bus drove by, I couldn’t hear you…” The dark intensity in Caleb’s eyes faded slightly. The corners of his lips curved into a faint, soft smile. “Nothing.” His gaze dropped to the insulated lunchbox in my hands. “What are you doing here?” “I’m dropping off lunch for my family,” I answered honestly. “Family?” he repeated softly, his eyes darkening a fraction. “Mhm.” I nodded, tossing the question back. “But what are you doing here, Caleb?” He pointed a long finger toward the imposing corporate skyscraper across the street. “I work here.” I was about to say more when my phone buzzed. It was Emma, asking if I was close. I quickly answered, “Be right there,” and hung up. I looked up at Caleb and offered an apologetic smile. “Caleb, I have to run, it’s urgent. Want to exchange numbers? Let’s catch up sometime.” A barely perceptible light flashed in his eyes. He pulled out his phone without a second of hesitation. After swapping contacts, I waved goodbye and jogged toward the building, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs. Based on what he had just said, I was 99% sure Caleb was the Reddit poster. So the guy who was losing his mind online, pining over a “mistreated wife,” and torturing my brother with overtime… wasn’t some balding middle manager. It was my untouchable, legendary high school crush. 4 After Emma handed off the ID, she had some errands to run and left. I looked at my brother, who was grinning like an idiot, glued to his phone texting his wife, and almost laughed out loud. I casually interrogated him and confirmed that Caleb Sterling was the undisputed CEO and heir apparent of the company. I genuinely never expected that the cool, distant senior from high school was secretly this possessive and unhinged in private. Thinking about his Reddit posts—She’s so pitiful, my coworker doesn’t deserve her, I want them to divorce—and contrasting it with my reality of being Mason’s unpaid delivery girl for the last two months… my mischievous streak ignited like a wildfire. Fate had literally handed me the ultimate prank script. It would be a tragedy not to play along. I deliberately lingered in the office a few minutes longer than usual, wandering over to the breakroom to get water. Sure enough, Caleb quietly appeared. It was strange. I’d been coming here for months; how had I never noticed him before? I pretended not to see him. I gently traced the edge of my thermos, keeping my eyes cast downward, exposing the delicate curve of my neck. I made myself look incredibly quiet, submissive, and like a woman silently enduring a world of grievances. A moment later, he actually approached me. The air around him felt heavy, making my pulse quicken. “Your family… makes you clean all this up by yourself?” He spoke in a low voice, heavy with undeniable heartache. “Does he treat you like this every time?” I looked up at him. I let a perfectly calibrated layer of sorrow and vulnerability wash over my eyes, then quickly forced it down, shaking my head gently. “It’s fine. He’s been busy with work lately. Doing a little extra doesn’t hurt.” With one sentence, I completely cemented the image of the long-suffering, neglected, overly-understanding wife in his head. Caleb’s eyes darkened instantly, his Adam’s apple bobbing hard. “Being busy is not an excuse to neglect you. Harper, you really don’t need to put yourself through this.” My heart did a violent flip. I don’t know why, but hearing my name roll off his tongue sounded incredibly rich and magnetic. It made my ears burn. I lowered my head, hiding a victorious smirk. When I looked back up, my eyes were shining with a glassy, unshed tear. My voice was light as a feather, soft and helpless. “But I don’t have a choice.” As soon as I left the building and hopped on the bus, my phone buzzed with a Reddit notification. The OP had posted a new update, and the words were practically bleeding with longing and bitterness: “I finally gathered the courage to talk to her today. Turns out we went to the same high school. We could have known each other so much sooner, but fate is a cruel joke. That bastard husband of hers was hugging another woman right in front of the building. I don’t know if she saw it, but it broke my heart. If I could, I would take her far away from a guy like that.” Reading that, I felt a twinge of guilt. Was taking this prank too far? But right then, a notification popped up in my family group chat. It was Mason, wailing in despair: “SOMEONE SAVE ME! Our boss has lost his damn mind! He just assigned me to a six-month deployment out of state!! I JUST GOT MARRIED!!” Seeing Mason suffering so spectacularly, I burst out laughing. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this was the jealous CEO’s retaliation. Whatever, I’ll let the game run a little longer. If Caleb was fully prepared to be a homewrecker, his moral high ground wasn’t exactly pristine anyway. Even if the truth came out later, he’d probably forgive me, right? 5 After exchanging numbers, Caleb and I started texting occasionally. It started with polite small talk, but we quickly realized we had a ridiculous amount in common. We loved the same obscure indie films, drank the exact same niche coffee order, and shared identical tastes in music and books. With every new shared interest, his texts grew warmer and more eager. I could practically picture his eyes lighting up on the other side of the screen. One night, we were texting late, and he sent: “It’s crazy how similar we are… I wish I had met you earlier.” I stared at the message, smiled, and didn’t reply. A few minutes later, the Reddit post updated. The frustration was palpable: “We have so many shared interests. We click perfectly. We’re obviously meant for each other. What right does her husband have? He just got lucky and met her first. How is he worthy of her? I just can’t accept this.” My inner demon took over. I switched to my burner account and replied to him as a “concerned netizen”: “Thinking about it won’t change anything, bro. You need to show her your masculinity. Remind her who the better man actually is.” Caleb apparently took that advice straight to heart. Early the next morning, my Instagram feed refreshed with a new post from him. It was a gym mirror selfie. He was wearing a tight black tank top. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and his abs were sharply defined. It was the epitome of lean, functional muscle. The sheer testosterone practically shattered my phone screen. I stared at those abs, silently nodding in approval. Damn. You could do laundry on those. I smirked and obediently hit the ‘Like’ button. On his end, he was probably losing his mind. That afternoon, the Reddit post updated again. The tone was completely panicked and confused: “I posted a gym photo, and I set the privacy so only she could see it. She liked it. What does this mean? Does she have feelings for me, or is she just mindlessly liking posts?” The commenters were merciless: “Are you an idiot? She’s stringing you along!” “A married woman liking a thirst trap? Neither of you are innocent. One’s a tease, the other’s a simp!” Caleb immediately jumped to my defense, fighting the commenters: “No, you’re wrong. She’s a wonderful person. She’s just very polite and likes to support people’s posts.” The internet went feral: “Bro, you are down HORRENDOUS!!” I read through the comments, laughing so hard I almost rolled off my bed. Caleb was too entertaining. But Caleb was genuinely getting desperate. He was falling too deep. Unable to hold back anymore, he posted a fierce update: “I can’t wait any longer. Her husband is blatantly physical with another girl. I’m going to make sure she sees the truth.” Caleb moved faster than I anticipated. The next afternoon, just as I arrived downstairs at the office, I “coincidentally” bumped into him. His face was stormy. He handed me a photograph, his voice tight with suppressed rage. “Harper, look at this.” In the photo, Mason was holding Emma on the sidewalk, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. The angle made it look incredibly illicit and scandalous. Those two hopeless romantics couldn’t keep their hands off each other for five minutes. Caleb watched me staring at the photo and gently called out to me. “Are you okay?” I snapped back into character. I let my eyes immediately well up with tears. My fingers trembled slightly, like I had just been stabbed. My voice was breathless and hoarse. “…Who is she?” The anger in Caleb’s eyes was replaced by raw heartache. “I’ve seen them together several times. He hasn’t told you.” I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning white. I lowered my head, letting my shoulders shake just twice—the perfect picture of a woman utterly shattered but fighting not to cry. “He’s been ‘working late’ a lot recently. So… this is why.” Caleb reached out, lightly touching my arm before quickly pulling back, as if afraid of breaking me. “Harper, he is not worth putting yourself through this.” I bit my lip, staying silent for a long time before slowly, painfully shaking my head. “No, we… we can’t separate.” Can’t separate? Caleb froze completely. The shock, confusion, and agony in his eyes merged into something close to devastation. “He treats you like this, and you still refuse to leave him?” I looked up, my eyes red, my voice thick with unshed tears, but fiercely stubborn. “When you’re in a marriage… you can’t just walk away that easily. I can’t do it.” Caleb stared at me. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily. He looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown. He didn’t push me. He just let out a soft sigh, a sound filled with helpless, agonizing pity. That night, the Reddit post blew up. You could feel the OP’s absolute despair through the screen: [She knows. She saw the proof with her own eyes, but she still refuses to get a divorce. How can she be so foolish? After everything he’s done to her, what is she holding onto? I’m so terrified she’s going to spiral. I’m afraid she’s suffering all alone in the dark.] [I can’t do anything right now except watch over her and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.] Reading the post, my heart felt soft and strange. I had only meant to tease him, but over the past few weeks, his sincerity, his intense protectiveness, and his careful devotion had hit me right in the chest. I had to admit, it was working. I think I was actually falling for him. After debating with myself for a long time, I sent him a text: “Caleb, my head is a mess. I can’t say this to anyone else, I only want to talk to you… Can I buy you a drink? I hope I’m not bothering you.” He replied instantly: “You’re not. I’ll be right there.” When we met, his eyes were full of undisguised worry. As soon as he sat down, he asked softly, “Have you eaten? Don’t drink on an empty stomach.” I kept my head down, my voice muffled. “I don’t have an appetite.” He didn’t push it. He just poured me a glass of warm water and quietly kept me company while I sipped my drink. I deliberately drank a little too fast. Soon, my eyes were hazy, my cheeks were flushed, and I leaned against the table, acting thoroughly intoxicated. “Caleb… I’m just so sad.” “I’ve been so good to him. Why doesn’t he appreciate me…” His voice was incredibly gentle. “It’s because he’s blind. It’s not your fault.” I swayed my head, looking up at him through hazy eyes. I reached out and weakly grabbed the cuff of his shirt. “You’re so good to me…” His breath hitched. Riding the wave of liquid courage, I leaned forward. My gaze drifted from his intense eyes to his slightly parted lips. Acting on pure impulse, I leaned in and kissed him. It was just a brief touch, and I tried to pull back. But the next second, his hand cupped the back of my neck, holding me in place, and he deepened the kiss. It started with restraint, but quickly escalated into an explosion of repressed emotion, a desperate, careful plundering. My heart was beating so fast I thought I was going to explode. Only when we were both gasping for air did he abruptly stop. He rested his forehead against mine, his breath scorching hot, his voice dangerously raspy. “Harper, don’t do this… I’m terrified you’ll wake up tomorrow and regret it.” I didn’t say anything. I just buried my face in his chest. Letting the alcohol take over, I completely passed out. Unable to wake me to get my address, he had no choice but to take me back to his place. He carefully laid me on his bed and tried to wipe my face with a warm towel. I kept my eyes half-closed, acting delirious, gripping his shirt tight and refusing to let go. I was woken up the next morning by the sunlight. The space next to me was empty, and faint noises were coming from the kitchen. I was instantly wide awake. Oh god. I had played way too hard last night. The sheer embarrassment was enough to make me want to dig a hole and live in it. I couldn’t face him. I quietly slipped out of bed, grabbed my purse, and bolted. The second I got home, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Caleb: “Where did you go? Last night… I didn’t cross any lines, so please don’t be scared. It’s just that I really, really like you, and I want to take care of you.” My mind was a chaotic mess. I stared at the screen, unable to type a reply. Not long after, the Reddit post updated. The OP’s words were a mix of inner turmoil and ironclad resolve: “Last night, she asked me out for a drink to vent. I couldn’t hold back, and I kissed her. I know it’s wrong. I know I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t control myself. That guy doesn’t deserve someone as incredible as her. I’ve made my decision. I am going to steal her away from him, completely and permanently. I’m going to make them divorce.” “Step one: Remove him from her sight.” My heart dropped. The next second, the family group chat exploded with Mason’s frantic messages: “HELP ME! The boss has completely lost his mind! He just personally ordered me to oversee the out-of-state project! For SIX MONTHS!!” “I LITERALLY JUST GOT MARRIED!!” I stared at my phone, completely paralyzed. The prank… had officially gone way too far.

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