Category: English

Rumors spread throughout the company that the Chairman’s chief secretary had worked her way up and was about to become his wife. I carried a stack of files and strolled to the Chairman’s office, wanting to see what kind of person this secretary was. The woman wore luxury designer pieces from head to toe, her figure alluring. She was indeed quite attractive. Before I could leave, she strutted straight toward me on her high heels. “Are you that intern who keeps going to see the Chairman? Seducing the Chairman during work hours—college girls these days are truly shameless.” Before I could snap back, she suddenly grabbed my hand and slammed it hard against the desk corner! The face of her Patek Philippe watch shattered instantly. She fell to the floor in one smooth motion, tears streaming down on cue: “This watch was a birthday gift the Chairman personally flew to London to buy me!” “Even if you’re jealous of me, you can’t destroy the Chairman’s heartfelt gift…” In an instant, everyone in the office pointed and whispered about me, calling me shameless. My brain completely froze. Wait, what seduction? I’m the Chairman’s actual daughter!

Violet collapsed to the floor, holding up the shattered watch, crying pitifully. She pointed her finger at my nose. “Yesterday I saw you sneaking out of the Chairman’s office, and today you deliberately broke the birthday gift he gave me!” “How can an intern be so vicious!” I glanced at the watch on her wrist. The so-called Patek Philippe was an obvious knockoff. Setting aside how fake it looked, my dad Roger didn’t even like the Patek Philippe brand. I laughed coldly. “Are you out of your mind? The Chairman is my…” Before I could say “dad,” Violet suddenly raised her voice to interrupt me. “You’re still trying to make excuses?” “Are you going to say the Chairman has feelings for you? Why don’t you take a good look at yourself first!” As she shouted, she deliberately rubbed her wrist hard against the rough carpet. Her fair skin instantly scraped raw, with tiny traces of blood seeping out. She had the victim act down perfectly. The entire executive office fell into dead silence, then erupted into buzzing whispers. “College girls these days really have no shame.” “Exactly, desperate to climb the social ladder!” “Violet is so beautiful and kind-hearted. What’s there to be jealous of?” The sycophantic colleagues in the executive office immediately found their chance to perform. Correll, the HR manager who rushed over after hearing the commotion, pushed through the crowd. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to show loyalty to the future Chairman’s wife. “You broke Violet’s multi-million dollar watch—you couldn’t pay for it even if you sold yourself!” “Fire her immediately! Call security to detain her and report to the police for compensation!” I watched this farce unfold, feeling only absurdity. Flew to London last month? Roger clearly went to attend my Oxford graduation ceremony. He followed me around carrying my bags the whole time. When would he have time to buy you a watch? This was all Roger’s fault—insisting on putting me at the bottom as an intern. He claimed it was to help me understand the company’s real internal situation, and kept calling me to his office for questioning every few days. Now look—a huge misunderstanding. Listening to the increasingly ridiculous whispers around me, I spoke again. “Call the police? Fine.” “Let them bring Roger down here so he can personally identify me as his—” “Enough!” Violet interrupted me again. She put on a generous yet wronged expression, raising her hand to stop Manager Correll. “Forget it. She’s just a poor student. Calling the police would ruin her whole life.” Tears still hung in her eyes, but her voice carried a condescending charity. “As long as she kneels before me and apologizes right now, then gets out of this company herself.” “This multi-million dollar watch… I’ll bear the cost myself.” As soon as she finished speaking, waves of admiration erupted around us. “Violet is such a good person…” “If it were me, I could never be so generous.” “Worthy of being the future Chairman’s wife—such grace, such magnanimity!” After praising Violet, everyone’s hostility turned back to me in unison. “What are you standing there for? Violet isn’t even holding it against you—why aren’t you kneeling?” “That’s right! If you know what’s good for you, kowtow quickly, or once the police are called you’re finished!” I almost laughed in anger. Make me kneel? Roger doesn’t even dare speak a harsh word to me normally—who do you think you are to receive my bow? I coldly scanned the room, my voice not loud but full of authority. “Make me kneel? I’m afraid there’s no one in this company worthy of it.” Seeing me so arrogant, Violet felt humiliated. She suddenly stood up and reached to grab my hair, wanting to force me down. “You bitch—” “SLAP!” An extremely crisp sound echoed through the executive office. I backhanded her with a slap that sent her tumbling back to the floor. Everyone was stunned. After a brief moment of shock, Manager Correll shrieked for security. “This is outrageous! Grab this crazy woman!” Several security guards rushed in and surrounded me. At that moment, a cold, authoritative male voice rang out. “What’s going on here!”

The newcomer was none other than Gabriel, the company’s Executive Vice President. A second ago, Violet had been like a tiger ready to tear me apart. The moment she saw Gabriel, she instantly transformed into a delicate, clinging flower. “Mr. Gabriel, you’re finally here!” Violet covered her swollen cheek, tears streaming endlessly. “This new intern not only seduced the Chairman during work hours but is also jealous of me!” “She deliberately smashed the multi-million dollar watch the Chairman gave me!” “I kindly advised her to apologize, but she actually hit me…” As Violet sobbed, she pressed her swollen face against Gabriel’s chest. “Look at my face—look what she did to me!” Gabriel held the soft woman in his arms, his gaze shooting toward me with sinister intensity. He looked me up and down in my plain business attire, his contempt unconcealed. “Where did this wild girl come from, with no manners whatsoever.” “Dressed in such shabby clothes, yet dares to cause trouble in the executive office?” He snorted coldly and squeezed Violet’s shoulder in reassurance. “I’ve seen plenty of cheap college girls like you who’ll do anything to climb up.” “Today, if I don’t teach you a lesson, you won’t know who really runs this company!” I looked at the two clinging tightly together and nearly burst out laughing. Well, well—turns out this secretary’s real lover is Mr. Gabriel. Looks like I’ve caught a big fish this time. Seeing Gabriel personally taking charge, Manager Correll jumped out like he’d been injected with adrenaline. “Mr. Gabriel is absolutely right! This cancer must be fired immediately!” The sycophantic colleagues around also chimed in, afraid they’d be too late to show loyalty. “Make her pay! Pay until she’s bankrupt!” “Offending Violet and Mr. Gabriel—she’ll never work in this industry again!” “She even dared to hit someone, thinking that fox face gives her the right to do whatever she wants?” Vicious mockery flooded in like a tide. In their eyes, an intern with no connections like me was finished today. To vent for Violet, Gabriel’s face showed malice. He turned directly to the security captain and ordered: “Lock the doors!” “Until this matter is resolved, no one lets her out!” The executive office doors closed. Several security guards advanced on me in a semi-circle. Watching me surrounded, Violet poked her head out from Gabriel’s arms. She affected a condescending tone, full of false charity. “Mr. Gabriel, don’t really hurt her. She is a girl, after all.” “How about this—as long as she kneels and kowtows an apology to me right now, then signs a three million dollar IOU, we’ll call it even.” She paused, calculation flashing in her eyes. “Besides… the Chairman will be back in ten minutes. We shouldn’t disturb him.” Hearing this, a cold smile curved my lips. Ten more minutes? Perfect timing. Roger, you’d better hurry up and see your toxic company and your “excellent secretary.” I walked straight through the security cordon to the center of the executive office. I pulled out the chair usually reserved only for the Chairman and sat down directly, casually crossing my legs. Everyone was dumbfounded. Gabriel’s face instantly turned iron-blue—this move was like grinding his face into the ground. I leaned back in the chair, my fingers lightly tapping the desk. My gaze coldly fixed on Violet and Gabriel. “Make me sign a three million dollar IOU?” “Sure.” “But Violet, even if I dare to sign it, do you dare to take it?” Before she could react, I turned to Gabriel. “By the way Gabriel, have you cleared up that mess from when you embezzled company funds last month?” The moment “embezzled company funds” left my mouth. Gabriel’s previously arrogant face instantly went pale. The panic in his eyes was impossible to hide—he completely broke. “What nonsense are you spouting!” Humiliated and furious, he shoved Violet aside. His eyes bloodshot, he grabbed the heavy crystal ashtray from the desk and, face twisted, hurled it viciously at me. “Grab this bitch who’s spreading lies!” “If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility!”

The heavy glass ashtray came whistling through the air. My eyes sharpened as I jerked my head to the side. With a tremendous crash. The ashtray grazed past my ear and smashed into the mahogany bookshelf behind me, shattering into pieces. Several female colleagues screamed and covered their mouths. I planted my hands on the desk and stood up. Looking down at Gabriel with authority, my voice carried the oppressive force of someone in power. “Gabriel, you dare touch me?” “Who gave you that courage!” Gabriel was stunned by my presence. Even the security guards instinctively stepped back half a pace. Seeing this, Violet panicked, afraid Gabriel would back down. She rushed forward on her high heels. “Mr. Gabriel, don’t listen to her bluffing!” “She’s just a broke student with no connections. She’s still trying to act tough when she’s about to die!” She turned to the security guards, her eyes full of venom. “Hold her down!” “Strip her clothes off!” “I want the whole company to see what this vixen who dares seduce the Chairman really looks like!” Not a single person around spoke up to stop it. I grabbed the teacup from the desk, flicked my wrist, and splashed it directly in Violet’s face. “Ahh—” Violet screamed, covering her face as tea dripped down from her hair. She looked utterly pathetic. I scoffed coldly. “Acting tough with me?” “Looking at someone like you makes me sick.” “This tea is for you to wash that filthy mouth of yours.” She trembled with rage, pointing at me for a long time without managing a word. I couldn’t be bothered with her and turned to Gabriel. “Gabriel, embezzling company funds in especially large amounts carries a sentence of over ten years.” “Add illegal detention, picking quarrels, and intentional injury.” “Are you trying to spend the rest of your life in prison?” Gabriel’s eyelid twitched, his expression shifting uncertainly. He stared at me hard, probably realizing I really held evidence that could destroy him. But a old fox like him wouldn’t admit defeat publicly. He suddenly laughed coldly and turned the tables. “Good!” “I’ve long suspected there was a corporate spy inside the company. So it was you!” He turned and shouted at the security guards. “She stole the company’s core secrets!” “Search her phone and belongings immediately!” “Detain her in the security room and wait for the police!” Gabriel did have some skill—no wonder he’d embezzled under Roger’s nose for so many years. Hearing they were catching a corporate spy, the security guards pounced like wolves. I struggled hard, but the strength difference between men and women was insurmountable. Two security guards roughly twisted my arms and pressed me hard against the desk. In the scuffle, the top button of my shirt was torn off. My hair fell loose, and my wrists were twisted until they showed glaring red marks. I gritted my teeth without making a sound. Not only did no colleague intervene, they all showed contemptuous expressions. “So she’s a thief.” “I knew she seemed sneaky.” “Looks decent on the outside but does such shameless things.” This humiliation of being publicly framed and roughly handled was truly infuriating. Gabriel walked up to me and bent down slightly. In a voice only we could hear, he said viciously: “Once we get to the security room with no cameras.” “I’ll make you cough up all the evidence.” “Then I’ll send you to prison to rot for the rest of your life.” With that, he straightened up and waved his hand with false righteousness. “Gag her! Take her away!”

Two security guards pulled me up with my hands pinned behind my back. I raised my head and stared hard at Violet and Gabriel. “Turn off the cameras?” “You really think you run this company, Gabriel?” “The more you jump around now, the worse you’ll die later.” Violet felt stung by my gaze and stepped forward to slap me in frustration. I spoke mockingly: “Violet, does the Chairman know about your little affair with Gabriel?” Violet’s hand froze in mid-air. Gabriel also froze. Watching their reactions, I sneered inwardly. Just as I suspected. A murderous glint flashed in Gabriel’s eyes. He realized he couldn’t let me speak anymore. “This bitch has lost her mind!” he roared. “Violet, get tape and seal her mouth!” Violet immediately grabbed the wide tape from the desk and viciously approached me. Every muscle in my body tensed. Just as she lunged with the tape, I suddenly exerted force. Risking dislocating my wrist, I kicked forward hard, landing precisely on Violet’s kneecap. “Ahh—” Violet screamed and fell flat on her face in a ridiculous position. I used the momentum to ram my shoulder hard into the security guard on my left. The security captain was enraged by my resistance. He felt humiliated by a young woman. “Fucking bitch!” He cursed and raised the black rubber baton high. With fierce force, he swung it mercilessly toward my head. My pupils contracted sharply. This blow would leave me dead or disabled. “What are you doing! Are you rebelling?” At this critical moment, the closed doors of the executive office were kicked open from outside. A deep male voice exploded at the entrance. Everyone’s movements froze instantly. I raised my head and saw who stood at the door. Roger stood there with several executives and personal bodyguards. The moment Violet saw Roger, she acted like she’d found her savior. Ignoring the pain in her knee, she crawled over frantically, crying pathetically. “Chairman, you’re finally back!” “The company has a corporate spy!” She rushed to accuse me first. “This new intern not only stole company secrets but also injured me!” “Mr. Gabriel was having security restrain her to protect company property!” Hearing Violet’s words, I was speechless. This woman’s acting was really quite good. To nail me completely, Violet continued embellishing. “Chairman, this shameless woman has been spreading rumors everywhere that she has close ties with you!” “I got angry and confronted her, so she attacked me!” “Look what she did to me!” She raised her face, pointing to the fingerprints. “You absolutely cannot let her off!” Manager Correll and the sycophantic colleagues also chimed in. “That’s right, Chairman! Mr. Gabriel and Violet have worked so hard for the company!” “This shameless college girl should be sent straight to the police!” Everyone used the most vicious language to condemn me. Expecting the high and mighty Chairman to bring down thunderous wrath. I stood in the middle of the crowd, coldly watching these clowns’ crude performance. Roger frowned deeply, his face dark as he pushed through the crowd. “Move aside!” “Let me see who has such audacity!” The security guards immediately scattered in fear. I was finally free. I slowly straightened my body. Though my hair was disheveled, my shirt torn, and I looked utterly wretched. My spine remained perfectly straight. I ignored the others’ mockery. Instead, I looked directly at that imposing middle-aged man. I raised both hands, showing my bruised wrists. “Roger, this is the company you insisted I come to?” My voice was clear but full of mockery. “If you’d been one minute later, I would’ve been beaten to death by these loyal dogs of yours!” Hearing me call him by name, everyone gasped. They thought I’d gone mad. However, the moment that man saw my face clearly, his pupils dilated in shock, and his entire body froze. The authority on his face crumbled inch by inch, transforming into extreme anger and heartache…

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At the company dinner, I snatched my unconscious male colleague back from death’s door. But the first words out of his mouth when he woke up were accusations that I’d taken advantage of him. He even posted online demanding I make it up to him by becoming his girlfriend. I thought that was the peak of shamelessness — until today’s meeting, when he collapsed at my feet clutching his chest again, and the entire company pressured me to save him. I let out a cold laugh, took half a step back, and dialed 91 “I wouldn’t dare touch him this time. What if he wakes up and demands I pay with my life?” 1 The moment those words left my mouth, the conference room — previously noisy with panic — fell into a deathly silence. Dozens of pairs of eyes swept back and forth between me and Trevor, who was convulsing on the floor, filled with shock, confusion, and veiled accusation. The air seemed to freeze. Trevor’s number one lackey, Harvey — always quick to read the room — turned beet red with fury, jabbing his finger at my nose as he launched into a tirade. “Clara! How can you be so vicious? This is a matter of life and death, and you’re throwing a tantrum? If anything happens to Trevor, can you handle the legal consequences?!” “No, I can’t,” I shot back, meeting his gaze without backing down, my eyes cold as ice. “At last month’s company dinner, he had an allergic reaction to seafood that caused acute shock. He couldn’t even breathe. I was the one who used my certified first aid training to perform the Heimlich maneuver and CPR, literally dragging him back from death’s door!” I took a deep breath, my voice echoing through the spacious conference room. “And what happened? When he woke up, he said I ripped his shirt. Said I groped his chest while he was unconscious. Even claimed I forced a kiss on him under the guise of rescue breathing! Not only did he demand ten thousand dollars for emotional distress, he posted a sob story in the company group chat pressuring me to become his girlfriend to ‘restore his reputation’!” “This time, if I touch him again and he wakes up claiming I deliberately hurt him, demanding I transfer my house to him and support his parents in their old age — Harvey, are you going to pay for all that?” Harvey was struck speechless by my rapid-fire questions, his face turning the color of liver, unable to squeeze out a single word. Quinn from the administrative department, always one to smooth things over, stomped his feet anxiously and rushed over to grab my arm, his voice trembling. “Clara! Please, I’m begging you — stop being stubborn! Save him first! Whatever the misunderstanding is, we can mediate it internally after Trevor wakes up, okay?” I forcefully shook off Quinn’s hand and cast a cold glance at Trevor lying on the floor, his chest still heaving violently. I held up my phone, the screen showing an active 911 call. “I’ve already called an ambulance. City Central Hospital is only two blocks away. Professional medical personnel are a thousand times more reliable than a half-baked certified amateur like me.” I scanned the circle of colleagues around me — all looking anxious but not one stepping forward — and my lips curved into a mocking smile. “And let’s be honest — if I have a sudden burst of compassion today and he stops breathing halfway through the rescue, won’t his family turn around and sue me for practicing medicine without a license? For manslaughter?” “Besides, all of you who usually call him your buddy and are so concerned about him now — how come not one of you is stepping up to give him mouth-to-mouth?” “Go ahead! Maybe when Trevor wakes up, he’ll look at you all starry-eyed and say you’re secretly in love with him, and you’ll have to take responsibility for his entire future!” The moment those words left my mouth, several colleagues who had been itching to persuade me suddenly shut up as if electrocuted. Everyone looked at each other, then uniformly took two large steps backward, as if afraid of being contaminated by something dirty. Just then, Trevor — lying “at death’s door” on the floor — suddenly twitched his fingers in an extremely unnatural way. Immediately after, he let out a weak but extraordinarily clear voice. “Clara… please… save me… if you save me, I won’t… blame you for what happened at the dinner… isn’t that enough?” I almost laughed out loud from sheer anger. I took another step back, completely withdrawing from the circle surrounding me, crossing my arms and looking down at his pathetic performance. “Don’t, Trevor. Please don’t be so generous. After you catch your breath, who knows — you might say I’m lusting after your body and demand I bear your child as penance. Someone like you? I could never aspire so high.” Just as I finished speaking, the wail of an approaching ambulance siren came from outside the window. The piercing alarm cut through the quiet office building. A miracle occurred. The instant he heard the siren, Trevor — who had seemed on the verge of death just seconds ago — suddenly opened his eyes wide. He planted his hands on the ground and sprang upright from the floor in one smooth motion! Not only was his complexion rosy, even his breathing had become perfectly smooth. “Clara! Do you have to be this difficult?” Trevor brushed the dust off his suit, looking at me with an expression of wounded disappointment. “I know you’ve secretly had a crush on me, and that day at the dinner you were just trying to make a move. You’re shy and embarrassed to admit it — I get it, I understand all that.” “But how can you say such vicious things just to spite me because I called you out? Don’t you know how much that hurts my feelings?” The colleagues who moments ago had been panicking, thinking someone might die, now stood frozen in place. Then the shock on their faces rapidly transformed into the excitement of watching drama unfold. “Oh? So you’re not dead after all?” I said with a cold laugh, my gaze sharp as a knife. “Since you’re so full of life, you can go downstairs and pay the ambulance dispatch fee yourself.” “Oh, and since you just claimed I’m spitefully trying to hurt you — want me to play the recording of you cornering me in the break room yesterday, forcing me to transfer you ten thousand dollars as a ‘relationship sincerity fund’ for everyone to hear?” Trevor’s face instantly went from red to white, then from white to green, his eyes beginning to dart around anxiously. “You… what are you talking about! What ten thousand dollars! That… that was me testing your feelings for me! That was our future relationship fund!” The surrounding colleagues finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter. The way everyone looked at him now was like watching a complete clown. I didn’t even spare him another glance, turning and striding back to my workstation. Saving him at last month’s dinner was the stupidest, most disgusting thing I’d ever done in my life. If I softened today, I’d be completely brain-dead. I thought that publicly exposing his true colors would finally put an end to this farce. But I underestimated how shameless people could be, and how dark the workplace really was. That evening at ten o’clock, I was at home applying a face mask when my phone suddenly vibrated. It was a voice call from Quinn. “Clara, you don’t need to come in to clock in tomorrow.” 2 I thought I’d misheard. I pulled off my face mask and turned my phone volume to maximum. “Quinn, what exactly do you mean by that?” On the other end, Quinn’s voice carried the coldness of official business and obvious impatience. “Trevor just submitted a sick leave note from City Hospital to the company, along with a diagnosis of severe depressive tendencies from the chief psychologist.” “He’s filed a formal complaint with upper management, claiming you publicly subjected him to verbal abuse and psychological harassment in the conference room today, causing him extremely serious psychological trauma.” “Management held a meeting to discuss it. The leadership’s decision is that for the greater good, you should voluntarily submit your resignation tomorrow. This looks better on your resume and minimizes the impact on the company.” I laughed in fury, anger surging to the top of my head. “He faked illness to extort people — the whole company saw it! Instead of firing that troublemaker, you’re firing me, the victim?” “Clara, don’t be so naive!” Quinn’s voice shot up an octave. “The company isn’t a court — the company wants stability and profits! The company doesn’t want to get dragged into your messy romantic drama!” “Last month’s dinner incident caused such an uproar that even several major clients came asking about the gossip. Do you know how much negative impact that had on the company’s corporate image?” “You young people dating, breaking up, getting back together — normally the company doesn’t interfere. But Trevor’s medical records clearly show he has a history of allergies and arrhythmia. If something had really happened to him in the company today, who would take responsibility for the workplace injury? Could you handle that?” Quinn paused, his tone taking on a naked threat. “I’ll only say this once. If you don’t agree to resign voluntarily, the company will issue a formal termination notice tomorrow.” “When that happens, your resignation letter will clearly state ‘terminated for suspected workplace sexual harassment and malicious bullying of colleagues.’ You’re still young — you don’t want to carry that kind of stain to job interviews at other companies, do you?” I gripped my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. I didn’t waste another word on this sycophantic manager, directly pressing the hang-up button. After taking several deep breaths to force myself to calm down, I opened the company SnapChat group. The group had completely exploded. Trevor had posted an extremely affected selfie. In the photo, he was lying in a hospital bed with an IV needle in his hand, connected to a drip, his chest wrapped with heart rate monitoring bands, his expression melancholic and broken. The caption was even more nauseating: [I always thought that if I was understanding enough, I could soften a stubborn heart. I never imagined that just because I rejected an irrational confession, I’d be publicly humiliated and denied life-saving help in front of the entire company. My chest still hurts. The doctor says I’m at risk for severe depression. I really don’t know what to do anymore. Do men in the workplace really deserve to be bullied like this?] What made it even more chilling was the long string of supportive, partisan comments below. Harvey was the first to jump in: [Hang in there, Trevor! Clara really went too far this time! No matter how bitter you are about rejection, you can’t joke around with someone’s life! This is basically attempted murder!] Another female colleague who was close to Trevor joined the pile-on: [Exactly! About last month’s dinner — maybe Clara really did force herself on Trevor while drunk. Trevor is usually so nice, always buying us afternoon tea. How could he possibly extort anyone?] Someone even made a snide remark: [I could tell ages ago that Clara had designs on Trevor. At the last team building event, she deliberately wore the same color outfit as Trevor. The way she looked at him — like she wanted to devour him whole.] Looking at these comments that twisted the truth, I rolled my eyes dramatically. The bigger the forest, the more kinds of birds you find. What a time to be alive! Trying to use these underhanded tactics to force me to resign voluntarily and whitewash your fake peace? Dream on! The next morning at nine o’clock, I put on a full face of makeup, clicked my heels, and clocked in right on time at the company entrance. As soon as I reached my workstation, I saw Trevor leaning against my desk holding a cup of coffee. Seeing me appear, surprise flashed across his face first, then that disgusting smile of “I knew you couldn’t stay away from me” spread across his features. “Clara, you still came. I knew it — those heartless things you said in the conference room yesterday were just to get my attention. You were just being contrary.” I looked at him coldly, as if looking at a pile of non-combustible garbage. “Move. You’re blocking me from breathing fresh air.” Not only did he not move, he actually leaned in closer, lowering his voice in what he probably thought was a charming tone: “Alright, stop pretending. I know you’re proud and would rather suffer than lose face. Yesterday you deliberately didn’t save me because you wanted to test whether I care about you, right?” “Let me tell you the truth — I already talked to Quinn. I told him we’re just a couple having a little spat, that I’m not pressing charges, and the company won’t fire you.” He raised an eyebrow with a magnanimous expression. “How about that? So moved you could cry? As long as you be my girlfriend right now, I’ll protect you at the company from now on.” I was genuinely shocked by this delusional man’s mental gymnastics. Did he really think he was some kind of domineering CEO? I laughed mockingly, loud enough for colleagues at several nearby workstations to hear clearly. “Trevor, do you not only have heart problems, but brain stem atrophy as well?” “Thanks so much to your whole family! Save your ‘touching gestures’ for when you’re visiting your own grave.” “And stay away from me. That scumbag stench on you is too suffocating. Bad luck!” Several colleagues who had been eavesdropping couldn’t help but snicker out loud. Trevor’s face instantly flushed red, completely unable to save face. He slammed the coffee cup on the desk and jabbed his finger at my nose, hissing viciously: “Clara! Don’t be so ungrateful! I’m telling you — if you don’t agree to be with me now, even if you strip naked and beg me on your knees later, I’ll think you’re too dirty!” I didn’t even lift an eyelid, simply pulled out a disinfectant wipe and vigorously cleaned the desk surface he’d just touched. Just then, the internal messaging software on my computer started flashing. Quinn sent a message: “Clara, come to my office. Now.” 3 I pushed open the manager’s office door. Quinn was sitting in his executive chair with a dark expression. “Clara, wasn’t I clear enough on the phone last night? The company asked you to voluntarily resign. Why did you still come in to clock in today?” I pulled out a chair and sat down calmly. “Quinn, I follow company rules and regulations. I’m never late or leave early, and my performance reviews are all excellent. I haven’t done anything wrong — why should I resign?” Quinn slammed his hand on the desk. “You haven’t done anything wrong? Your scandal with Trevor has the entire building gossiping about our company! Do you know that even the property management was asking me this morning which one of you harassed the other?” “You believe whatever Trevor says? He says I harassed him, but I say he’s extorting me! I have recordings of him forcing me to give him money yesterday. Why don’t you believe that?” Quinn was momentarily speechless from my retort, irritably loosening his tie. “Why are you being so stubborn with him? He has a depression diagnosis from the hospital. If he really does something extreme at the company — jumps off a building, cuts his wrists — the company will be held jointly liable!” “Having you resign voluntarily now is completely to protect you! If it really comes to the company issuing a termination notice, your file will be completely ruined. How will you survive in this industry after that?” Looking at Quinn’s sanctimonious face, I felt it was utterly ironic. “Thank you for your ‘good intentions,’ Quinn, but you needn’t worry about my future.” I pulled out my phone, brought up a photo of my advanced first aid certification, and shoved it right in his face. “At last month’s dinner, my emergency response for Trevor fully complied with international standard operating procedures. Not only is he ungrateful, he fabricated facts to slander me and damage my reputation. I haven’t even sued him in court yet, and your company is rushing to sweep the victim out the door?” “You want me to leave? Fine. If the company insists on terminating me, please issue a formal notice of contract termination according to labor law and pay N+1 compensation.” “Short me one cent, and we’ll see each other in labor arbitration. When that happens, I’ll not only sue the company for illegal termination, I’ll use Trevor’s statements in the company group as evidence and sue the company for harboring and enabling workplace sexual harassment. We’ll see whose face looks worse then!” Quinn trembled with rage, pointing at the office door, barely squeezing out one word: “Get out! Get out of my office!” I clicked my heels and walked out of the office with my head held high. As soon as I returned to my workstation, Piper — an intern I usually got along well with — came over with red-rimmed eyes, her voice very low. “Clara, stop fighting with the company. Look at Twitter and the local forum — Trevor posted about this online last night and bought a troll army. The whole internet is cyberbullying you now!” My heart sank. I immediately opened my phone to search. Sure enough, at the tail end of the local trending topics was a glaring hashtag: #ManipulativeWomanTriesToMurderMaleColleagueAfterRejection Clicking in, I found a long post by Trevor, accompanied by a carefully edited video. The video was only about ten seconds long, starting from yesterday’s conference room scene. In the footage, Trevor collapsed in pain, colleagues called for help anxiously, while I coldly stepped back, saying: “I wouldn’t dare touch him. What if he wakes up and demands I pay with my life?” All context had been cleanly edited out, leaving only my “cold-blooded and heartless” moment. In the long post, he portrayed himself as a clean-living, hardworking, sunny young man, while I was a psychologically twisted woman who took advantage of him at the dinner, then held a grudge after being rejected and attempted to let him die in the conference room. The comment section had completely fallen, with unbearable abuse flooding in like a tide. [Holy crap! This woman is so vicious! If you can’t have him, you’ll destroy him? This is like a real-life Fatal Attraction!] [She looks so normal on the outside, but her heart is this black! Women like this should be arrested and sentenced!] [Men need to protect themselves in the workplace too! This woman is obviously a psycho!] [Someone expose this woman’s workplace and home address! She needs to be socially destroyed!] [I know her! She works at our company. She’s always been promiscuous at work, hitting on male colleagues everywhere!] I scrolled down several pages, looking at those vicious curses. Even my parents had been dragged into it. My hands trembled uncontrollably with rage. Piper tugged at my sleeve beside me, almost crying with anxiety. “Clara, a lot of netizens are doxxing your personal information now. Even your phone number has been posted. You should just apologize and resign to lie low for a while. We ordinary people can’t afford to mess with scum like this.” I took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the fury in my chest. Can’t afford to mess with him? I’m going to mess with him anyway! Just then, Trevor sauntered over with his hands in his pockets. Looking at my pale face, he couldn’t hide the smugness on his face. “How about it, Clara? Now you know what happens when you cross me, right?” He leaned down, using a voice only the two of us could hear, whispering viciously: “Let me tell you — internet mobs have no reason. If I add a little more fuel to the fire, tomorrow your photo will be made into a funeral portrait and sent to your parents’ phones.” “You want to calm this down? Sure.” A lecherous gleam flashed in his eyes. “As long as you kneel down in front of the entire company right now and apologize to me, admit that you seduced me. Then tonight, come to my place and keep me company. I’ll be magnanimous, delete the post, and say it was all a misunderstanding.” “Otherwise, I’ll make sure you can never hold your head up for the rest of your life!”

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I transmigrated into the body of a little girl who was beaten to death by domestic violence. The moment I opened my eyes, a fist came flying at me. I smiled. I am a female Muay Thai champion, a terminator of domestic violence, specialized in dealing with all kinds of troublemakers! I transmigrated just as I had won my sixth world championship. With this, I had achieved the Grand Slam in Muay Thai. I couldn’t help but shed tears of joy. Right at that moment, a piercing pain shot through my right leg—in the final round of the match, my opponent’s fierce roundhouse kick had struck my shin. I smiled bitterly. The bone was probably fractured. Injuries were nothing new to me. I endured the pain and still faced the reporters’ cameras with a smile. ” Lily Smith, please tell us how you’re feeling right now,” a reporter asked. I steadied myself and said, “I want to thank my coach for all his hard work in training me.” “What about your family? Don’t you want to say anything to them?” the reporter pressed. Family…? I froze for a moment. My mind went blank. I suddenly realized I had no memory of my family at all. Then a flash of white light appeared, like a camera flash going off. I instinctively closed my eyes for a split second. When I opened them again, I found myself in a dark, dilapidated little room. The flowers, applause, and surrounding reporters had all vanished. Only the pain in my right leg remained, reminding me this was no dream. I looked down. These were the legs of a little girl. Slender and frail. The right leg was twisted at an odd angle. The slightest movement brought another wave of pain. The shin was broken, but someone had given it a crude bandage. Whoever had treated the injured leg was clearly an amateur. They hadn’t even set the bone properly. I unwrapped the bandage, reset the bone, and rewrapped it. Since I was often injured, I naturally had some knowledge of treating external wounds. “Lily, are you awake?” Just then, a woman’s voice quietly called into the room from outside the window.

I had just finished setting my injured leg and didn’t want to move, so I answered weakly, “Just woke up.” The woman hurriedly said, “You must be hungry. I brought you some food. Eat quickly.” The door opened, and a thin, frail woman entered carrying some cornbread and wild fruit. It seemed this woman was the little girl’s mother. She extended the food toward me and said, “Lily, does your leg still hurt? Eat quickly. You need to eat well to recover from your injury.” Suddenly, a shrill voice rang out from outside: “Lily’s mom! I told you to feed the chickens, where did you go? Always slacking off! Even the chickens are more useful than you! At least they lay eggs—you don’t!” Lily’s mother quickly responded, “Mom, I already fed the chickens. I came to bring Lily her meal.” The shrill voice grew closer: “My son must have had terrible luck to marry you! A money-loser gave birth to another money-loser, eating the Smith family’s food for nothing all these years!” This sounded like the little girl’s grandmother. The grandmother’s words were full of disgust toward the mother and daughter. Their lives must be difficult. Lily’s mother looked at my injured leg. After much hesitation, she finally gathered the courage to say, “Mom, Lily’s leg was broken. We need to get the village doctor to look at it.” Mrs. Smith outside the window nearly shrieked when she heard this: “A doctor costs money! If you ask me, if she dies, she dies! One less mouth to feed!” I frowned. This little girl must have been beaten, which is why her leg was broken. Why was the little girl beaten, and who beat her? The most important thing now was to figure out what exactly happened. I heard Mrs. Smith continue: “Stop talking nonsense and come help me right now. The matchmaker is coming today!” Lily’s mother quickly set down the food and went out.

I don’t know how much time passed before I heard arguing outside the door. “Lily’s father, you can’t keep beating her! You’ll kill the child.” This was Lily’s mother’s voice. An angry man’s voice: “Don’t try to stop me. She was lucky I didn’t kill her yesterday.” “She wants to go to town so badly? Today I’ll break her other leg too! If she’s so capable, let her crawl there!” The two people arguing outside were clearly the little girl’s parents. I hadn’t expected that the person who broke the little girl’s leg was actually her father. Anger rose in my heart. This father, taking advantage of being an adult man, actually beat an underage little girl this way. The door burst open with a bang. A man appeared in the doorway. He was of medium build, holding a wooden stick, his face full of violence. Behind the man stood Lily’s mother. Her thin wrists tightly gripped one end of the stick in the man’s hand, trying to stop him. The man slapped her face. A crisp smack rang out, and Lily’s mother stumbled, nearly falling. Even so, her hands still desperately gripped the stick, refusing to let go. Because Lily’s mother was holding the stick, the man couldn’t move freely. Seeing that one slap hadn’t made Lily’s mother let go, he grew impatient and kicked her in the stomach. Alarmed, I quickly grabbed the cornbread bun beside me and threw it at his head and face. The bun was quite hard. It hit the man’s face with a dull thud and broke apart, falling to the ground. Cornmeal crumbs got in his eyes. He reached up to rub his eyes, and Lily’s mother snatched the stick away. “You damn girl, how dare you throw things at me! I see you still haven’t given up on going to town to study!” The man no longer paid attention to Lily’s mother. He roared and charged at me. Lily’s mother quickly abandoned the stick and wrapped her arms around the man’s waist, pulling him back while crying out: “Lily, quickly apologize to your father! Say you won’t go to school anymore!” I suddenly understood. This little girl, Lily—she wanted to go to town to study, but her father wouldn’t let her, so she was beaten.

Before I could speak, an old woman picked up the stick from the ground and quickly threw it into the yard. This old woman had entered the room behind the arguing parents. Because she was short, I hadn’t noticed her at first. After throwing the stick, she even kicked it. The stick rolled far away. With her sharp, slanted eyes, she said to the man in a shrill voice: ” John, the matchmaker just came by. A girl with a crippled leg won’t fetch a high wedding gift!” The man froze when he heard this and stopped. He asked the old woman, “Mom, Matchmaker Mrs. Brown came by?” So this harsh-looking old woman was the little girl’s grandmother. Mrs. Smith nodded and said, “A wedding gift for a girl with one crippled leg has to be cut in half. If you break both her legs, she’ll be paralyzed, and the wedding gift will drop even more.” John Smith said angrily, “Why cut it in half? Is that Mrs. Brown trying to cheat us? Her leg is crippled, but she can still walk and work!” As he said this, John Smith withdrew his hand. Seeing he wasn’t going to hit me anymore, Lily’s mother slowly let go. I suddenly understood this little girl’s situation. So I coldly interjected: “My leg isn’t permanently crippled. It can heal. Three months—just three months and my leg will be good as new. Then you can ask Mrs. Brown for the highest wedding gift!” Mrs. Smith’s eyes lit up: “Lily’s leg can heal? If it heals completely, we’ll have a perfectly intact virgin girl! Mrs. Brown won’t be able to lowball us then!” John Smith sneered. He understood he couldn’t beat me. If my leg didn’t heal properly, it would affect the wedding gift he could collect. But he seemed unwilling to just let this go. He turned and saw Lily’s mother standing to the side. He directly slapped her again, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her out of the room.

I saw this and struggled to get up to stop him, but Mrs. Smith pressed me down, saying, “Lily, lie still and don’t move. Take good care of your leg!” She pursed her lips and said, “That’s between your father and mother. Stay out of it.” I moved my right leg slightly. Based on my experience, this leg injury could indeed heal in three months. After three months when my leg healed, I needed to get out of here quickly. While secretly making this resolution, I also worried about Lily’s mother and pricked up my ears to carefully listen to what was happening outside. I heard John Smith drag Lily’s mother all the way to the next room. The door slammed shut with a bang. Sounds of punching and kicking came from next door, occasionally mixed with Lily’s mother’s cries and screams. Then came the sound of clothes tearing and a belt whipping. When John Smith’s heavy breathing gradually intensified and Lily’s mother’s screams turned into soft whimpers, Mrs. Smith clicked her tongue twice, spat, and left with a red face. I gradually clenched my fists. John Smith not only committed domestic violence, he was also a sexual abuser! Over the following days, John Smith would beat Lily’s mother every few days. And no matter how brutally Lily’s mother had been tortured the night before, she would unfailingly come bring me food the next day. I begged her to get me some protein to help with my recovery, and she brought me some roasted bird eggs. I asked, “Doesn’t the family raise chickens? Why do we need to get wild bird eggs?” Lily’s mother sighed: “Your grandmother counts every chicken egg. She saves them to sell at the market.” This Mrs. Smith was really cruel and stingy. Lily’s mother watched me happily eating the roasted bird eggs and said, “Thank goodness for Tommy, bringing you bird eggs. Next month Tommy is going to town, so you won’t have these good things to eat anymore.” After saying this, she seemed to have misspoken and looked regretful. “Tommy?” I asked. Lily’s mother quickly comforted me: “I know you also want to go to town with Tommy to study middle school. But which girl in our village doesn’t stop studying after elementary school? Look at Emily—she also stayed home to work after elementary school graduation.” By this calculation, Lily had only graduated from elementary school, probably around 13 or 14 years old. At this age, her father and grandmother were already planning to marry her off. What bastards!

This day, Lily’s mother didn’t come to bring food. Instead, a little boy and a little girl came. The little boy looked sturdy and energetic, wearing a hoodie and sneakers, covered in dirt from head to toe. He held a bundle of bird eggs and said proudly, “Lily, I raided three bird nests! Look, there are over a dozen eggs here!” The little girl wore a floral print jacket with patches on the knees and shoes. Though not dressed as well as the little boy, she was neat and tidy. She blinked her eyes and said, “Lily, your mother said she went to cut pig feed, so she asked us to bring you food.” As she spoke, she took out two cornbread and handed them to me. “Tommy? Emily?” I called out tentatively. Emily nodded. Tommy said, “What’s wrong? Did your dad beat your head stupid?” He stood up to examine my head. “You’ve always been better at studying than me. It would be such a waste if your dad beat you into an idiot!” As he spoke, he ruffled through my hair. “Bah! Bah!” Emily pushed him away and scolded him: “Don’t talk nonsense! How could Lily become an idiot!” Tommy asked me, “Lily, are you really not going to town to study middle school?” “I heard the teacher say that middle school, just like elementary school, is required by law. Not letting you attend is illegal,” he said confidently. Emily sighed: “But all the girls in our village only go to elementary school.” Tommy fell silent. After a while, he asked me again: “Lily, don’t you want to ask your dad again? You’re good at stud Emily. It would be a shame not to go to school.” I shook my head. I didn’t need to ask to know that no matter how good my grades were, John Smith would never agree. I ate five or six of the bird eggs Tommy brought and hid the rest to give to Lily’s mother. In a daze, I heard a woman crying out. It was Lily’s mother!

I quickly listened carefully to identify the sounds. Mixed in with Lily’s mother’s cries and pleas for mercy were a man’s curses and beatings. It was John Smith. Occasionally there were also a few sounds from Mrs. Smith. Her voice was thin and shrill, actually the clearest to hear: “You should teach this lazy daughter-in-law a good lesson! At my age, I still have to go up the mountain to cut pig feed! These old bones of mine nearly fell apart!” Hadn’t Lily’s mother gone to cut pig feed today? It was because she went to cut pig feed that she asked Emily and Tommy to bring me food. This old hag was distorting the truth and sowing discord! John Smith seemed even angrier. While cursing, he continued beating Lily’s mother: “You dare lie? It was clearly Mom who cut the pig feed!” “You shameless woman needs to be stripped naked, hung up, and whipped hard with a belt!” Rage surged within me, and I was about to rush out to save Lily’s mother. As soon as I moved, I nearly fell from the bed to the floor. The leg injury had been healing for almost two months. Although the injury was recovering well, the leg muscles were weak and I still couldn’t move flexibly. This body was far inferior to my previous one. I sighed and secretly resolved that starting tomorrow, I must exercise my muscles properly. Otherwise, even if the leg healed, without muscles and strength, it would be useless. Lily’s mother’s voice gradually grew quieter. She must have passed out. Finally John Smith stopped. But his conversation with his mother made my heart rise to my throat again. I heard him say to Mrs. Smith: “Mom, if you don’t like this woman, we can just send her back to her parents’ home. Why do we have to beat her to death?” Mrs. Smith said, “You foolish child, if we send her back to her parents’ home, what if her brothers come demanding the dowry back! She brought a cow as dowry when she married in!” So Mrs. Smith and her son were planning to beat Lily’s mother to death. I looked down at my right leg, my face turning cold.

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My mom and dad, who revolved around my sister Barbara every single day, had no idea that I had another family—inside the mirror. When the three of them went on a trip for three days, they finally remembered they had me. But when Mom and Dad rushed home in a panic, they found me cleaned up and well-fed, looking healthy and plump. The guilt and alarm on Mom’s face gave way to sheer disbelief. “Somerville, have you been taking care of yourself these past few days?” I shook my head. “I’ve been staying inside the mirror these past few days. There’s a mom and dad in there who took care of me.” A flash of disbelief crossed their eyes, followed by thunderous rage: “You know Barbara has autism, and you’re lying just to compete with her for our attention?” All the exhaustion and suppression my parents had accumulated over the years poured out on me in that moment. I was locked in my room, and Mom warned me viciously through the door. “We’re already exhausted taking care of Barbara. This family can’t afford to raise two autistic children. If you lie again, you won’t be staying in this house anymore!” I curled up in the corner, crying so hard I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, a withered hand reached out from the mirror, gently stroking my head. “If they abandon you one more time, I’ll take you away.”

The moment the door was pushed open, the mom in the mirror crawled backward into the mirror. Mom stood quietly at the doorway, looking at me. “We’re having guests over later. Come out and help.” I followed closely behind Mom, taking the plastic plate from her hands. My eyes couldn’t help but land on the large cake in the center of the table. “Don’t just stand there. Hurry up and divide the cake.” Halfway through dividing the cake, I suddenly remembered—today was my birthday. So Mom and Dad still remembered my birthday after all. My nose tingled, and I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. I suddenly remembered that before Barbara got sick, Mom and Dad had been really good to me. When they took Barbara shopping at the mall, they would always bring me new clothes, instead of making me wear Barbara’s hand-me-downs that never fit properly. If I went away with the mom and dad in the mirror, would they be sad? The next moment, Mom clasped her hands together, her voice full of happiness, shattering my fantasy. “Barbara can finally call us Mom and Dad. Today is a day worth celebrating.” “When our relatives and friends arrive later, Barbara might even speak a few more words to other people.” I stood frozen in place, the corners of my mouth slowly drooping. The doorbell rang, and relatives flooded in. Barbara was surrounded in the center like a star. “Barbara, I heard you can speak now. I’m Uncle Dexter.” “I’m Aunt Bella. This is a gift for you.” Under everyone’s excited gaze, Barbara pressed her lips together, nervously clutching the hem of her dress, refusing to speak. Seeing the relatives’ enthusiasm waning, Dad quickly shot me a look, signaling me to help Barbara out of this situation. I squeezed into the middle of the relatives, sweetly greeting them one by one. “Let me serve you some cake.” While eating the cake, the relatives smiled and praised me: “Somerville has such a sweet mouth—so likable.” “If I had a daughter as articulate as Somerville, I’d laugh in my sleep.” Only Aunt Colleen had an indifferent expression, deliberately raising her voice. “Articulate? I think she’s clearly just competing for attention.” “She’s five or six years old. When my son was her age, he could recite Shakespeare’s poems backward. What’s so impressive about knowing how to greet people?” “She’s just showing off in front of someone with autism.” Mom’s expression darkened as well. She scolded me sternly, “Somerville! You always have the most to say. Barbara finally spoke, and you still have to steal the spotlight.” Dad’s smile faded as he shot me a cold glance. “Put away those petty thoughts of yours. Stop trying to get attention this way.” Seeing me keep my head down in silence, Dexter asked with a half-smile: “Somerville, tell me—who taught you to compete for attention at such a young age?”

I pursed my lips, my eyes reddening as I instinctively looked toward Mom and Dad. Mom and Dad’s eyes flickered for a moment, as if they’d just remembered what they’d demanded of me. Ever since Barbara’s autism got worse, Mom and Dad had been forcing me to talk more in front of Barbara every single day. Each time, I’d talk until my voice went hoarse, but Barbara would still show no response. Mom would sob, clutching her chest, venting all her frustration on me. “Talk more in front of Barbara! Talk! Hurry up and talk!” “What’s the point of having a mouth if you don’t use it? Mouths are for talking, aren’t they?” “But you? You don’t think about Barbara at all. All you do is make her angry.” But Barbara’s “kindness” to me was secretly stuffing candy in my mouth when she knew I couldn’t eat sugar. I was only three back then. All my teeth rotted, and the pain kept me awake every night. In the end, not only were all my baby teeth pulled out, but I also got scolded by Mom and Dad. Dad would often say to me sternly, “Somerville, the therapist said someone in the family needs to guide Barbara to speak and give her positive feedback.” “You have both the responsibility and the obligation to help Barbara and set a good example for her.” But I’ve already been trying so hard to guide Barbara. Why are Mom and Dad still not satisfied? Just as I faced the relatives’ interrogation, clutching my hands and not knowing how to answer, Dad handed me a plate of strawberries. “Go eat your strawberries somewhere else. Talk less.” I took the strawberries, but Barbara suddenly snatched them away, raised her hand and smashed them on the floor, then opened her mouth to let out a piercing scream. Mom and Dad’s faces went pale. Barbara’s autism was acting up again. Mom, with reddened eyes, poked my forehead with her finger and scolded: “Somerville, why are you so greedy? Barbara hasn’t eaten yet—why are you eating first?” “You know Barbara lacks a sense of security. Everything in this house should prioritize Barbara. Barbara comes first.” Looking down at the smashed strawberries on the floor, a bitter taste rose in my throat. I squatted down and picked up the strawberries from the floor one by one, placing them on the plate, my lips mumbling, “I know I was wrong. I don’t want the strawberries anymore.” “I’ll let Barbara have all the strawberries.” Seeing how obedient I was, Uncle Torres frowned curiously and asked, “Why has Somerville become so well-behaved? I remember when you were three, you were so protective of your food. Once something was in your hands, no one could take it away.” Hearing Torres’s words of concern, a warmth rose in my heart, and my inner thoughts spilled out without defense: “Because the mom in the mirror already gave me strawberries to eat…” Meeting Mom and Dad’s icy stares, I realized I’d said the wrong thing. I quickly covered my mouth with my small hands and shook my head, indicating I hadn’t said anything. Colleen didn’t believe I’d really become obedient. A cold smile curved her lips. “Somerville sure knows how to act!” “Deliberately pretending to be pitiful to gain sympathy, and even lying about having a mom in the mirror. Why don’t you just say you’re going to live in the mirror?” Hearing Colleen’s words, I froze. How did Colleen know that the mom in the mirror wanted to take me away? Mom caught the panic in my eyes and trembled with anger. “Somerville, didn’t I teach you not to lie? Why are you spouting nonsense today?” “Hurry up and tell everyone that the mom in the mirror is something you made up. It’s a lie.” I instinctively glanced at the mirror in my room. The mom in the mirror poked her head out, staring at me with hollow eyes, her mouth curving into an eerie arc. I timidly raised my head and stammered, “Mom, I’m not lying, and I’m not making things up…” There really was another mom in the mirror. But under Mom’s stern, pressuring gaze, I swallowed the rest of my words. Torres, who had grown up in a church, took my words seriously. He frowned and said to Mom: “I don’t think Somerville is lying. Maybe there really is something wrong with that mirror. How about I help you check the house?” After Torres took out his religious artifacts from his bag, Mom’s expression grew increasingly tense. Just as Torres was about to ask me some questions about the mirror, Barbara’s scream interrupted him.

Barbara picked up a shard of broken porcelain from the floor and slashed it across her wrist. Mom instantly panicked, hugging Barbara in distress and stopping her from continuing to harm herself. Dad looked at me with anguish, his eyes ice-cold. “Did you deliberately lie about having parents in the mirror to make Barbara feel guilty enough to cut her wrist?” “We’ve been so good to you. How can you be so vicious and come up with such twisted ideas?” I shook my head violently, tears blurring my vision. “Dad, I’m not lying…” But Dad wouldn’t listen to my explanation. He said goodbye to the relatives and drove Barbara to the hospital. After the relatives left, I was the only one standing there in a daze. I’d already tried my best. Why wouldn’t Mom and Dad believe me? Barbara’s wrist wound wasn’t deep, so there was nothing serious. But Mom and Dad still took turns staying by her side, afraid something else might happen to her. I could only see them when they came home to cook for Barbara. But whenever I got close, Mom and Dad would unconsciously push me away, distancing themselves from me. “Somerville, stop hovering around us.” “You’ve already driven Barbara to cut her wrist. Do you have to see Barbara die before you’re satisfied?” I shook my head, looking completely wronged. “Mom, I don’t know why Barbara cut her wrist either, but I really didn’t want to see Barbara die.” Even when Barbara had emotional breakdowns and scalded me with hot water from her cup, or cut my bangs with scissors, I never resented her. After all, Barbara got sick because of me. If I, the second child, didn’t exist, Barbara wouldn’t have gotten sick. And Mom and Dad wouldn’t have to frown all day long. But hearing Mom say these things still made my heart ache. Two days later, Barbara was discharged and came home. After coming home, Barbara was much more active than before. Besides calling out “Mom” and “Dad,” she could also speak some simple sentences. According to Mom, it was when she cried like a mess that Barbara felt sorry for her and started speaking. But I’d been trying to guide Barbara to speak for years, and she never responded. Why did Barbara start talking as soon as Mom cried? Holding the doll the mom in the mirror had given me, I quietly pushed open Barbara’s door. But I saw Mom and Dad sitting at Barbara’s bedside, gently coaxing her: “Barbara, from now on, just rest and recover at home. No matter how much Somerville tries to compete with you for our attention, Mom will only love you.” “Dad feels the same way. That’s why we’ve been deliberately ignoring Somerville these past few days to teach her a lesson.” Barbara’s eyes reddened as she slowly spoke, “Don’t… blame Somerville. She’s still young.” “If only I didn’t exist…” Hearing Barbara say this made Mom and Dad both angry and distressed. Dad put his arm around Barbara’s shoulder and gently promised, “Silly child, don’t talk nonsense. You’ll always be Mom and Dad’s precious treasure.” “Somerville has complicated thoughts. We’re planning to send her to Colleen’s house for discipline for a while. Once you’re better, we’ll bring her back home.” The doll in my hand slipped and fell to the floor.

A flash of panic crossed Mom and Dad’s faces at being caught. Seeing me remain silent, Dad simply decided to come clean. “Since you’ve already heard, your mom and I won’t hide it from you anymore.” “Colleen called yesterday and kept nagging us to send you over for education for a while.” My body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead. With tears in my eyes, I looked up and met Mom and Dad’s gaze: “Mom, Dad, just because Barbara is sick, are you going to pretend you don’t love me and completely abandon me?” Dad turned his head away, unwilling to look at me. Mom snorted impatiently: “Didn’t you insist there are parents in the mirror who love you more than us? Then just take the mirror and go live at Colleen’s house.” After Mom finished speaking, she kicked me out of Barbara’s room and slammed the door shut. I listened to the laughter coming from inside the room, a dull pain spreading through my chest. Perhaps they were the happy family of three, and I was just the unwanted outsider. I silently returned to my room. The mom in the mirror had already prepared a fragrant lunch waiting for me. She unfolded her withered, shriveled body and smiled at me: “Come eat. After you eat, come with Mom. Your dad is still waiting for you inside the mirror.” I nodded with vacant eyes, obediently eating the meal the mom in the mirror had made. Halfway through the meal, my tears couldn’t be held back anymore and fell in large drops onto my rice. I sobbed quietly and asked the mom in the mirror, “Before I go, can I say goodbye to Mom and Dad?” The mom in the mirror grinned eerily. “Be quick. I’m about to take you away.” I wiped my tears, picked up the pen on the table and wrote a farewell letter to Mom and Dad, then ran to them and hugged them. “Mom, Dad, goodbye!” Mom looked at the letter and threw it in the trash like garbage. Dad’s face was tense. “Don’t think that by retreating, we’ll compromise and not send you away.” “Colleen will be here in 5 minutes. Go pack your things.” I nodded heavily. Although I was already prepared to leave, my heart still ached faintly. I returned to my room without taking anything, just sitting on the bed in a daze, looking at this home where I’d lived for six years. It suddenly felt so unfamiliar. At least in the mirror, there were parents who loved me, and there was no Barbara who disliked me. Living with Mom and Dad in the mirror should be happier than now, right? The next second, Colleen arrived at my bedroom door and shouted: “This door won’t open. Somerville must have locked it.” Mom and Dad outside the door knocked frantically, cursing: “Somerville, you’ve really gotten bold. Now you even dare to lock the door.” “Colleen is here to pick you up. Open the door right now!” “Even if we have to tie you up today, we’ll drag you out and fix your bad habits!” Seeing that I wouldn’t open the door no matter how much they scolded, Mom and Dad got furious and kicked the door open. At that moment, I was standing obediently in front of the mirror, waving goodbye to them one last time. Mom and Dad’s faces turned ashen as they glared at me, about to step forward and discipline me. The next moment, a pair of withered hands reached out from the mirror behind me. Mom and Dad’s faces instantly went pale. In panic, they shouted at me, “Somerville, come here quickly!” But I turned around and threw myself into that embrace without hesitation.

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Eight years after my family went bankrupt, the poorest, most invisible boy in my high school class suddenly became my VIP client. Later, when my career and life faced setback after setback, he was the one who stayed by my side, walking me through it step by step. At my most helpless moment, he finally confessed the deep, insecure love he had hidden for so long. Yet, in the very last second, just as my heart was truly moved, I overheard a conversation between him and the CEO of the company I was interviewing for. He sat on the sofa, dressed in a sharp custom suit, exuding a cold, careless aura. Beneath that immaculate exterior was the ruthless, sinister stranger he truly was. “Don’t hire her, and this contract is still yours.” 1 The first time we locked eyes after eight years, my VIP client smiled and called out my name. I didn’t even recognize him at first. He didn’t mind my poor memory. Instead, he patiently guided me through the past. It wasn’t until he mentioned our high school and homeroom that it finally clicked. “I remember now! You’re Rowan Sterling!” The corners of his lips curled up. His handsome, mature face, which normally carried an intimidating authority, was softened by that smile, giving off a deceptive illusion of approachability. I couldn’t be blamed for not recognizing him. His transformation was staggering; he was a completely different person. “It’s me.” I truly never expected this. The most invisible, destitute boy in our class had become our firm’s most valued client. Rowan Sterling was my high school classmate back when my family was still ridiculously wealthy, before our bankruptcy and my sudden transfer. I still had some memories of him, though distant and blurry. I remembered he always wore a pair of sneakers that were peeling and coming apart at the soles, yet meticulously clean. His family had been struggling. His mother died when he was born, and by middle school, his father was bedridden with a severe illness. They survived on meager government welfare checks. When the delinquent boys in class bullied him, he never fought back, always trying to avoid causing any trouble. I witnessed it by chance once. Back then, I was young, arrogant, and spoiled rotten by my wealthy parents. Fearless and reckless, I walked right up and splashed scalding hot coffee directly onto the bully’s face, burning him so badly he couldn’t even scream. Rowan just stared at me. The malnourished teenager was incredibly frail, his oversized school uniform hanging off his bony frame like a ghost. Meeting his gaze, I grinned, patted his shoulder, and told him, “Next time they mess with you, just grab one of them and beat the hell out of him.” My words were naive and irresponsible. I never stopped to think about how he would afford the medical bills if he actually hurt someone. Aside from that, we had zero interaction. That is, until my senior year, when my family’s empire collapsed. To dodge the debt collectors, my parents pulled me out of school and we moved away in the dead of night, cutting ties with all my former friends and classmates, vanishing without a trace. 2 Life really is unpredictable. Who could have guessed that my family, once the wealthiest real estate tycoons in the state, would one day lose everything? And who could have imagined that the boy who was once as small and insignificant as an ant would become a billionaire tech mogul everyone tried to impress? I let out a sigh. Realizing he was just an old classmate slowly eased the nervous tension I had about meeting an important client. “After all these years, I never expected to see you again.” Truth be told, Rowan was the only classmate I had seen in a decade. After the bankruptcy, I transferred to a rundown public high school in a bleak rust-belt town. Despite the terrible facilities and environment, I managed to claw my way into a top-tier university. At the very least, holding a Finance degree from an elite school got me through the doors of a Fortune 500 company. I worked myself to the bone every day to earn a decent salary, keeping my paralyzed parents afloat in their long-term care facility. “How have you been these past few years, Mr. Sterling?” The moment it left my mouth, I realized it was a stupid question. Building an empire from scratch is always agonizing. But wasn’t this just the standard corporate small talk? Rowan took a sip of his water, his eyelids lowered, his dark eyes deep and unreadable. After a moment, he replied in a flat, emotionless tone, “Not very well.” I froze for a second, then nodded in agreement. “True. It couldn’t have been easy getting to where you are today. But the hard part is over, right? The future is bright.” Even if we were classmates, he was still the client. My tone carried an involuntary hint of flattery, but he didn’t seem to mind. “What about you? How have you been?” He looked at me, his gaze so intense and earnest that it gave me a strange feeling. Ignoring the anomaly, I shook my head and offered a bitter smile. “Barely surviving, honestly. You saw it yourself—my family went bankrupt, my parents are sick in a facility, and the former heiress is now just another corporate wage slave.” The crushing monthly medical bills bled me dry, swallowing nearly my entire paycheck. Why else would I be working this desperately? I flashed him my most eager, people-pleasing smile. “Whether I eat steak or instant ramen this month all depends on Mr. Sterling signing this deal.” My attempt at self-deprecating humor didn’t make him laugh. He maintained the same faint, unreadable smile that seemed to carry a trace of bitterness. He glanced at me, then looked down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sighed softly. “Where’s the contract? Let me see it.” I quickly presented it with both hands, slyly uncapping my fancy pen and placing it right next to his hand. Perhaps my desperation was too obvious. Rowan’s expression grew considerably colder, but he didn’t stop me. He called me an old classmate; I politely called him Mr. Sterling. Times had changed. The dynamic between us was now like a lord and a peasant, tainted by the suffocating, vulgar respect of class difference. I wasn’t afraid of him looking down on me. I was only afraid he wouldn’t sign. Thankfully, he showed mercy and generously signed his name on the dotted line. I breathed a massive sigh of relief. “Thank you, Mr. Sterling. Please rest assured, we will deliver the absolute best results for this project.” Rowan showed no reaction. It was as if he didn’t care how the project turned out; to him, this amount of money was just pocket change. “Valerie.” “Yes, Mr. Sterling?” He looked at me seriously and said something I completely failed to understand. “I only signed this contract because of you.” I was dumbfounded. Since when did my status as an “old classmate” carry that much weight? Meeting my blank stare, he added, “Back when I was at my absolute lowest, you were the only one willing to help me.” That tiny, insignificant intervention I had nearly forgotten actually earned me a decade-long debt of gratitude? Honestly, I would have done the exact same thing for anyone else. But Rowan just happened to become an untouchable billionaire. See, it always pays to do good deeds, I thought. “You’re giving me too much credit, Mr. Sterling. I was just young and impulsive. But even if I could do it all over again, I’d make the exact same choice.” He nodded. “True. You have always been so good.” Rowan pulled out his phone. “Let’s exchange numbers. We should keep in touch.” He pulled up his personal contact QR code. 3 “Keep in touch” usually just meant polite corporate lip service. Having navigated the business world for years, I knew the rules inside and out. When I returned to the office with the signed contract, my boss smiled so widely his wrinkles folded over each other, immediately feeding me corporate promises. “Valerie, I’ve always seen great potential in you. Keep up the good work.” I nodded and smiled. “It’s all thanks to your guidance, Mr. Davis.” My boss handed me a luxury gift box, mentioning that Thanksgiving was coming up next week and told me to find a reason to deliver it to Rowan. We had just exchanged numbers, and I already had an excuse to use it. I called Rowan, trying to make my tone sound less like a corporate drone and more casual and friendly. Rowan was a busy man. The phone rang until the very last second before he picked up. “Hello?” “Hey, Rowan! It’s Valerie Vance. Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and I wanted to know when you might be free? I have a little holiday gift I’d love to drop off for you.” Rowan gave me his home address, saying he was free tomorrow. He mentioned a partner had gifted him fresh Alaskan King Crab legs and invited me over to share a meal. I never expected Rowan to be so sentimental. After ten years of silence, he casually invited a former acquaintance into his home for lunch. I guess that’s the kind of grace you have when you’re at the top. I sighed in admiration. 4 I arrived at the address Rowan gave me right at 10:00 AM. It was a sprawling, ultra-luxury modern estate. Behind towering wrought-iron gates lay a manicured courtyard. White fences framed exquisite, rare blooming flowers, and a wide stone pathway cut through a lush emerald lawn. The architecture was elegant and romantic, reeking of impossibly expensive taste. I rang the doorbell, and a housekeeper quickly let me in. Rowan hadn’t gone into the office today. At home, his attire was much more relaxed and casual. He smiled at me. “Take a seat. I just finished my workout.” I felt a bit stiff. “Please, don’t mind me. Go ahead and do what you need to do.” “Oh, I left the gift right here for you. You can open it whenever you have time.” Rowan barely glanced at it before turning to me. “Stop calling me Mr. Sterling. It sounds too distant. Just call me Rowan.” The guy holding the purse strings had spoken; who was I to disobey? I nodded eagerly. “Alright, Rowan it is.” The housekeeper was an incredible cook. The King Crab legs were steamed to perfection, bright red and steaming. I was just reaching for a crab leg to crack it open and score some brownie points when Rowan placed a small plate of perfectly extracted crab meat right in front of me. His movements were fluid and natural, as if he had practiced doing this a thousand times. I was incredibly flattered but felt awkward, trying to ease the tension with a joke. “I don’t know about this. If your girlfriend finds out, she’s going to be furious.” Rowan rolled up his sleeves and started cracking another shell. “There is no girlfriend.” He looked up at me. “Valerie, I have never had anyone else.” That sentence carried an oddly ambiguous weight. He didn’t just say he wasn’t dating anyone; he said he had never had anyone else. It sounded almost like he was trying to prove his innocence to me. My brain short-circuited, and my hand jerked. But then I reasoned he was probably just speaking casually. After a brief, loaded silence, I chuckled. “I get it, the empire comes first. You’re young and successful. Your future partner is going to be incredibly amazing.” Rowan slowly lowered his head. His interest seemed to fade, his tone flat. “Yes. She is incredibly amazing.” I didn’t quite catch that last part, and I deliberately didn’t ask him to repeat it, terrified I might uncover something I shouldn’t. After lunch and some casual chatting, Rowan mentioned that our old class president was hosting a high school reunion next weekend. He asked me to go with him. I couldn’t really refuse. I had just eaten his food and secured a massive contract from his hands. I had to give the client face. I agreed immediately, though I went home dreading how I was going to interact with classmates I hadn’t seen in ten years. 5 On Saturday, Rowan picked me up himself. I had the honor of sitting in the passenger seat of his ridiculously expensive sports car. I teased, “Thanks to you, I finally get to ride in a car that costs more than my life.” Rowan’s expression didn’t change. “If you like it, I’ll give it to you.” “?” My eyes went wide, assuming he was joking. “I don’t love this specific one. I’ll let you know when I find one I like more.” I burst out laughing. Rowan’s lips curled into a smile, carrying an inexplicable sense of indulgence. “Okay.” When we arrived at the hotel banquet hall, everyone was already there. Now that Rowan was the most successful person to ever graduate from our class, everyone wanted to kiss his ring. Since I walked in with him, I ironically became the most invisible person in the room, quickly squeezed into a corner. Ten years had changed everyone drastically. Some were married, some divorced with kids, some ran small businesses, and some were corporate drones like me. The seat of honor was left empty for Rowan. Everyone here had stayed in touch to some degree over the years, clustering with their friend groups. I, the girl who vanished senior year, was left standing awkwardly, not knowing where to sit. Rowan patted the empty chair right next to his. “Valerie, sit here.” The moment the words left his mouth, every pair of eyes in the room snapped toward me. Someone gasped, “Wait, is that Valerie Vance?!” Once he said it, they finally remembered I existed. I flashed a wide, generous smile. “Wow, someone actually remembers me.” The atmosphere livened up, and the topic of conversation suddenly shifted to me. I had no idea who told them about my family’s bankruptcy. “I heard you transferred senior year because your family went under, Valerie. Is that true?” “So what are you doing for work now?” “Oh, I’m sure Valerie’s parents bounced back years ago. A starving camel is still bigger than a horse! She’s probably doing way better than us working-class folks.” They got more and more animated. No matter what they said, I kept my expression perfectly neutral. Everyone here was an adult. We weren’t innocent kids anymore. Every word they spoke carried a thinly veiled layer of schadenfreude or hungry gossip. The class president interrupted the interrogation, standing up to raise his glass. “Let’s make our first toast to our most successful classmate, Mr. Sterling!” There was no shortage of people desperate to latch onto Rowan. Terrified of falling behind, they all rushed forward with their glasses raised. Rowan was no longer the timid, shivering boy from high school. He handled this highly-orchestrated corporate pageantry flawlessly. Having sat at the top for so long, he had experienced this countless times. It didn’t faze him at all. Normally, these people would never have the chance to breathe the same air as someone of Rowan’s caliber. Now that they had the opportunity, they were going to squeeze it dry. In a society ruled by profit, the cheap pride of adults meant absolutely nothing. One man groveled with both hands on his glass, speaking with pathetic humility. “I was an idiot back in school. I hope Mr. Sterling can forgive the ignorance of a fool, and we can still be old buddies.” I recognized him. It was the same punk who used to torment Rowan. We had bad blood. After all, getting a cup of scalding coffee thrown in your face hurts. If he hadn’t been terrified of my father’s money back then, he probably would have jumped me in an alley. Now that I had lost my status, he naturally couldn’t resist kicking me while I was down. He furrowed his brow, glaring at me with arrogant hostility. “Valerie, what the hell is wrong with your manners? Mr. Sterling is sitting right next to you, and everyone is toasting him. Why aren’t you raising your glass?” “Do you still think you’re some untouchable heiress? If you piss Mr. Sterling off, he could crush you like a bug!” The table fell into a dead, awkward silence. No one spoke. If I were seventeen-year-old Valerie Vance, I would have smashed a dinner plate into his smug face. But I was twenty-five-year-old Valerie Vance. I needed to be mature and stable… Screw mature and stable! I gave a fake, plastic smile and asked, “So if you decided to drop dead, does that mean I have to drop dead too?” “I remember you used to love bullying Rowan. You looked down on him for being poor and made his life a living hell.” I covered my mouth, chuckling lightly. “But I know you were just young and ignorant back then. I’m just joking around, don’t take it to heart.” His face turned a sickly shade of green. No one expected me to strip away his dignity so publicly. Just as the man was about to explode in anger, Rowan, who had been completely silent, picked up the glass pitcher and poured water into my cup. “Don’t drink the wine. It’s bad for your stomach.” It wasn’t just the others who were shocked. I was stunned too. The billionaire CEO was personally pouring my water. My aggressive fire was instantly extinguished. “Thank you, thank you, please don’t trouble yourself, I can do it.” Seeing Rowan’s attitude, the man’s fury instantly deflated like a popped balloon. By pouring my drink in front of everyone, Rowan was making a crystal-clear statement: She is under my protection. Watching that cowardly bully tuck his tail between his legs and scurry back to his seat, I almost burst out laughing. Rowan lowered his voice and asked, “Are you upset?” I kept my voice low too. “Not at all. Guys like him are just petty and jealous, which is why he holds a grudge. I’d never waste my time on trash like that.” Rowan didn’t say a word. For a fraction of a second, his body went entirely rigid—a tension I didn’t notice—before he tipped his head back and downed his glass of liquor in one gulp.

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We were childhood sweethearts, growing up right next door to each other. After college, he went to a top Ivy League university for his master’s degree. And I signed with a prestigious modeling agency in Paris. When people gossiped that the modeling industry was full of messy private lives and that a rookie model like me didn’t deserve him… He would be the first to stand up and have my back: “I trust Chloe, and I deeply respect her career.” During our three years of long distance, we always said goodnight to each other, bridging the time zones. No matter how busy the week got, we always squeezed in time for a video call to share the little, funny moments of our lives. I honestly thought we would walk hand-in-hand forever, growing old together. Until— A genius freshman girl joined his lab… 1 I forget how many times Carter had blown me off by now. Just to catch him on his lunch break, I deliberately woke up an hour early. At six in the morning, Paris was dreary and drizzling. It was a perfect match for my mood. I ducked into the metro station, looking like a drowned rat, trying to escape the rain. Ten minutes. I silently promised myself. I will give Carter exactly ten more minutes. Perhaps it was some lingering telepathy between us, but he seized the window. With thirty seconds left on my mental countdown, he returned my video call. “Sorry, Chloe, I was swamped all morning.” Carter’s voice was as gentle as ever, just like when we were kids. Whenever I got into trouble, he would pretend to come over to borrow a book, just to put in a good word for me with my parents. From that moment on, I had grown accustomed to his voice. It felt like as long as he was there, every problem in the world would magically resolve itself. So, I had to admit, in that exact moment, I let out a breath of relief. Because it felt like God was still on my side. “You’re heading out this early?” “Yeah, I have a commercial shoot today.” “Did you eat breakfast yet?” If this were the past, Carter would have asked for every detail about the commercial. He would have researched the brand’s history and aesthetic for me, giving me tips on how to carry myself on set. But today, he asked none of that. Instead, he smoothly changed the subject. “In a bit…” Before I could even finish my sentence, a girl with a high ponytail squeezed into the frame. “Who is it? Who is it? Is that your girlfriend, Carter? Wow! She’s so pretty! No wonder she’s a model!” She cupped her face with her hands, her tone incredibly exaggerated. It immediately drew the attention of the other grad students in the lab. They swarmed over, snatching Carter’s phone and passing it around. “She’s gorgeous!” “No wonder Carter’s been saving himself! I didn’t know his girl was this stunning!” I felt like a monkey in a zoo, being put on display, judged, and critiqued. Maybe they didn’t mean any harm. But the behavior felt incredibly invasive. “Hailey! Stop messing around!” Carter’s eyes were full of indulgence, his tone affectionate and helpless. It was a look I knew all too well. “Ooh, Carter is getting jealous! I just want to say hi to the pretty lady! What kind of commercial are you shooting today?” At that question, the tips of Carter’s ears turned red. Even though it was just a flash, I caught the sudden embarrassment in his eyes. Yes, embarrassment. He wasn’t apologizing for his friends’ invasive behavior. Instead, he was harboring an unspeakable sense of shame about my profession. “Oh, by the way! Did you know our project just had a massive breakthrough? It’s the one where…” The girl named Hailey just kept rambling at me through the screen. She was waving her hands enthusiastically, throwing out complex physics theories, while I sat on the other end, letting out a dry yawn. I didn’t mean anything by it; I was just genuinely exhausted. “Ah! I’m so sorry! I totally forgot you don’t understand any of this! My bad, once I get going, I can’t stop!” Hailey playfully stuck out her tongue, winking at Carter before turning back to me: “Next time I have questions about makeup or skincare, I’ll make sure to come to you!” “Yeah, exactly! You can’t talk physics to a fashion model, that’s just cruel!” someone chimed in. The group exchanged knowing glances and burst into laughter. Carter’s face flushed a deep crimson as he snatched his phone back. One guy relentlessly teased him: “Come on, man, why haven’t you taught your girl anything?” Carter mumbled vaguely: “She wouldn’t understand it anyway!” “Alright, Chloe, we still have a project to finish. If there’s nothing else, I’m gonna let you go, okay?” Hearing that, I looked up at the sky outside the station. The rain had stopped. But the sky was still a gloomy, oppressive gray. I waited a few seconds until the patience on the man’s face in the screen began to visibly wear thin, then I asked in my sweetest, softest voice: “Is the allowance I sent you last time still holding up?” In an instant, a look of sheer, ugly humiliation flashed across Carter’s face. The chaotic, laughing lab suddenly dropped into dead silence. My mood instantly improved. A genuine smile finally touched my lips. I said: “Babe, once my paycheck from Fashion Week clears, I’ll transfer you a bit more. Just focus on your academics! I have no problem sugar-dicking you for a few more years, so please don’t feel any pressure!” With a girlfriend as wealthy and considerate as me, who cares if Carter finds me embarrassing? What could he do? All he could do was grit his teeth and say: “Thanks, babe.” “I’ve been funding you for years, a little extra is nothing!” I smiled until my eyes crinkled, waved goodbye, and sweetly hung up the phone. The very next second. I wrapped my arms around myself in sheer exhaustion and crouched against the tiled wall of the metro station. I didn’t cry, because I had a commercial shoot in an hour. If my eyes were swollen, the photographer would throw a fit. Pedestrians began flooding into the station, but no one paid me any mind. In a city like Paris, there are far crazier people than me. I was just another ordinary girl in the crowd, having her heart broken by a man. I don’t know exactly when Carter changed. Or when I changed, either. He used to fight the time difference, staying up all night just to hear how my auditions went. Just to be the first one to offer comfort or congratulations. With my softer, understated features, I didn’t have much of an edge in the European market. When I first arrived in Paris, I was rejected at almost every casting call. I barely booked a few minor gigs a month. It was Carter who constantly encouraged me. He even spent hours analyzing the brand identities of luxury fashion houses—things he had zero interest in—just so I could pitch myself better during interviews. Thanks to him, and my deep understanding of the brand’s lore, I landed my first major campaign in a high-end magazine. After that shoot went viral, I finally secured my foothold in Paris. Because of that, I offered to cover all his living expenses so he could do his academic research without any financial stress. In my heart, this career was something we built together. I never imagined that just a few years later. The career I was so fiercely proud of would become a dirty secret he couldn’t bear to mention. And me? I had changed too. I was sharper than before. Maybe even a little… vicious. I knew he was on speakerphone. I knew saying those things would only drive a wedge between us. But I said them anyway. For no other reason than I was just entirely sick of swallowing my pride. I suddenly realized that I had walked right into the toxic relationship trap I used to sneer at. 2 The first time I heard the name Hailey Brooks was six months ago. He told me a “genius” freshman had joined the lab. She had skipped three grades in middle and high school and was only twenty-three, with a limitless future. Unfortunately, she’s purely theoretical, so working with her is a headache, he had said. On the outside, Carter was polite, mild-mannered, and known as a physics prodigy. But only I knew that deep down, he was deeply insecure and terrible at socializing. Carter’s parents divorced when he was young, and he was raised by his grandmother. After high school, he stayed in our hometown and went to the local state college with me. Some people called him hopelessly romantic; others said I was dragging him down. But I knew the truth. He didn’t stay for me. He stayed because the state university offered him a full-ride scholarship and a massive living stipend. It wasn’t until he was specially recruited by an Ivy League university for grad school that he finally got to attend his dream institution. Back then, I was too naive, and my heart bled for him. Every time a social event required networking or mingling, I was the one hyping the crowd, acting as his personal spokesperson. And now… someone else had taken that spot. Gradually, he stopped complaining to me about Hailey Brooks. Instead, he started praising her dedication to her research, saying she wasn’t a slacker like the others. He told me Hailey was bright and bubbly, the absolute joy of the lab. With her around, no matter how grueling the project got, the days felt a little sweeter. As if trying to prove there was absolutely nothing going on between them, Carter shared everything with me. He said they shared a rock-solid, purely revolutionary friendship, entirely devoid of romantic feelings. So, he felt perfectly fine bringing her back to his dorm to watch movies. Or staying up all night talking about their grand ambitions. Or driving two hours through a blinding blizzard just to buy her a bowl of her favorite clam chowder from the coast. I had no idea what was going through Carter’s head when he told me all this. And I had no idea what expression I was supposed to make in response. Aside from mechanically agreeing with him, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Should I be suspicious? But he was telling me every microscopic detail himself. I didn’t even have the energy to be angry. All I could do was watch Hailey Brooks inch her way into his life, piece by piece. She even became super close with our mutual friends. Carter once sighed dramatically and said: “I have a beautiful girlfriend like you, and a soulmate like Hailey who understands my work. My life is perfect. What more could a guy ask for?” The moment those words left his mouth, I knew. Our relationship was bleeding out. 3 When my recent shoots wrapped up, I asked my agency for a three-month leave of absence. My boss, Maria, is a fiery, passionate Spanish woman. She cycles through boyfriends faster than I change my manicures. Every time I see her, there’s a different young, gorgeous guy on her arm. Perhaps sensing my heartbreak, she approved my leave instantly. Maria poured me a glass of whiskey, toying with the champagne roses on her desk. She laughed and said: “Chloe, love doesn’t stay fresh forever. But people can, as long as you swap them out fast enough.” I pretended to sigh with envy, telling her I didn’t have her intoxicating charm. Maria suddenly looked at me, dead serious. “Money buys everything. Modeling is a young woman’s game. Give it one season, and they will forget your face. You know this, Chloe. You are not irreplaceable. There are tens of thousands of girls just like you in Paris.” The fashion industry has never been known for sugar-coating things. But I knew Maria was right. So, I threw the whiskey back in one gulp and changed my leave from three months to thirty days. Carter and I had been together since our junior year of high school. It had been exactly nine years. I needed time to figure out what to do with this relationship. Should I try to save it? But I’m the kind of person who refuses to tolerate dirt in my eyes, and Carter had sprinted past my absolute bottom line. He had buried a thorn deep inside my heart. Tossing and turning in the dead of night, I had hated him, blamed him, and even blamed myself. I wondered if I had flown too far away, giving Carter’s heart the space to wander. So, should I give this relationship one last chance? Carter, are you going to let me down again? 4 I didn’t go back to my hometown. Instead, I flew straight to Boston. The moment he found out I was standing at the campus gates, Carter’s voice was a mix of ecstatic surprise and sheer panic. “Chloe! You didn’t even tell me you were coming! I would have picked you up at the airport!” Under the bright sun, he ran toward me. In a blur, it felt like he was still that teenage boy who lived next door. We hadn’t seen each other in three years, yet it felt like nothing had changed. Just like he was doing right now, holding me tightly, exactly the same way he did the day I left for Europe. And yet, it felt like everything was irrevocably broken. Because a girl with a ponytail popped out from behind him. Hailey smiled, bright and innocent: “Oh my, is the big sister here to check up on us?” Carter loosened his grip, looking back at her with a helpless, fond expression: “Do you think everyone is as petty and jealous as you?” Hailey ignored him, extending a hand toward me: “Hi! You can just call me Hailey, just like Carter does.” “Chloe. Nice to meet you.” I gave her hand a polite, brief shake, my eyes barely lingering on her. “Wow, your skin is flawless, and your makeup is stunning! Not like me. I can’t even tell the difference between eyeshadow and blush.” Hailey looked dramatically devastated. Carter grabbed my luggage cart and chuckled: “Why does a kid like you need makeup? Natural beauty is the best kind.” Hearing that, a glint of smug satisfaction flashed in the girl’s eyes. She tilted her chin up, looking at me expectantly. As if she was waiting for a show to start. I just smiled and didn’t say a word. I had crossed a six-hour time difference and survived an eleven-hour flight. I wasn’t here to play a low-budget game of petty jealousy with an amateur pick-me girl. But Hailey wouldn’t let it go. She kept buzzing around me like a gnat: “Since you’re so gorgeous, what kind of cosmetics do you use?” “Expensive ones.” She was giving me a headache, so I shut her down with two words. Predictably, she froze for a few seconds, all the color draining from her face. Tears instantly welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip, completely silent. It wasn’t until Carter, walking ahead with the luggage, noticed the silence that she forced a watery smile: “Carter, I still have some data to run in the lab. I’m gonna head out.” “Hailey! What’s wrong? Hey, don’t cry!” Carter didn’t let her leave. He jogged back and grabbed her by the wrist. His eyes were overflowing with unchecked heartbreak. “You idiot, why are you crying again?” Hailey stopped holding back and buried her face in Carter’s chest, sobbing loudly: “I’m just being too sensitive! When she said that, I thought she was mocking me for growing up poor!” “You are being too sensitive,” I said coldly, standing off to the side, watching these two star-crossed lovers embrace. Carter snapped. He shielded the crying girl in his arms and glared at me fiercely: “Chloe, what is wrong with you? Apologize to Hailey right now!” I pointed to myself, staring at Carter in total disbelief. “Me? Apologize?” Hailey perfectly timed her intervention to play the peacemaker: “It’s not her fault! It’s my own insecurities. I always thought that if I studied hard enough, I could cross class boundaries and change my fate. But at the end of the day, I’m just a small-town scholarship kid. I don’t make the kind of money a model does, and I can’t afford expensive makeup. Whatever, let’s just forget it! Please don’t be mad, Chloe! You haven’t seen Carter’s apartment yet, have you? Come on, I’ll show you the way!” I watched her performance with zero expression. Then, I reached out and grabbed her wrist. “A small-town scholarship kid… who can afford to wear a $4,000 Cartier bracelet?” “Th… this was a birthday present Carter gave me last month… I had no idea it was so expensive! Carter, I’m giving this back to you right now!” Hailey looked utterly panicked, her hands trembling as she fumbled with the clasp. But she miraculously just couldn’t seem to get it off. Ah. So that was it. I looked up at the sky and let out a laugh of pure, unadulterated relief. No wonder Carter asked to borrow $7,000 from me last month. It was to buy his precious junior a luxury birthday present. We had dated for nine years. The most he ever bought me were cheap stuffed animals and trinkets. I knew he came from nothing, so I never, ever demanded material things from him. I never imagined he would buy another woman a luxury bracelet. Using my money. “Chloe, when did you become so bitter and vicious?” “Don’t blame her, Carter. It’s all my fault.” The two of them bounced lines off each other like actors in a soap opera, clinging to each other right in front of my face. I was so exhausted. My brain was completely numb. My only coherent thought was— Thank God I skipped the in-flight meal. Because otherwise, I would be violently throwing up on the pavement right now. I shook my head, grabbed the handle of my suitcase, and turned to walk away without a shred of hesitation. Before I left, I looked at Carter. “We’re breaking up. Make sure you pay me back.” Instantly, it was like a bucket of ice water hit him. He shoved the girl in his arms away. His voice trembled as he asked me why I was abandoning him. The girl’s crying hitched, and she began mumbling incoherently. “I’m dragging you down.” “I’m so sorry.” “I should just die.” … I had absolutely zero interest in hearing the rest. I picked up my pace and walked away. Caught between a rock and a hard place, Carter eventually chose Hailey. Then, he yelled at my retreating back: “I’ll come find you later to calm you down!” Whatever connection Carter and I used to share was entirely dead. He actually thought my breakup was just me throwing a little tantrum. He thought he could just give me a piece of candy, coax me a bit, and I’d come running back. Honestly, the realization that he didn’t know me at all hurt more than the fact that he fell for someone else. It wasn’t Carter who was precious to me. It was the nine years I had invested.

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I never had the courage to confess my feelings. My mom, heartbroken by my quiet pining, secretly tried to play matchmaker. She was effortlessly shut down by Carter. “You’ve got to be kidding. I absolutely despise it when elders meddle in my personal life.” “Even if I were looking to settle down, she wouldn’t even make the list.” I nodded and accepted his words without a fight. Terrified my mom would blame herself, I packed our bags and moved us out of the city overnight. One month passed. Then two. Carter remained completely silent. But on the day I finally agreed to a setup with someone new, he suddenly tracked me down. “My family is arranging a marriage for me. She’s a real estate tycoon’s daughter.” I pressed my lips together and said, “Congratulations.” Carter’s face darkened with sudden, fierce anger. “Chloe, do you really have to speak to me like that?” 1 When he first found out I liked him, Carter raised an eyebrow and asked, “Your mom says you have a crush on me. Is that true?” I had just run through the pouring rain to deliver files to a client. I was drenched to the bone, but my face flushed hot as I started to nod. Carter just laughed. “Why didn’t you tell your mom that we are just friends? Strictly platonic.” I felt the blood drain from my face in an instant. I didn’t understand. Friends. How could we be just friends? In the five years I’d known Carter, he had never missed a single important moment in my life. When I was fresh out of college, I didn’t know how to say no to my boss’s unreasonable demands. At a corporate networking event, a client tried to take advantage of me. It was Carter who threw a punch, dragged me out of there, and handled the fallout so my background check for a new job wouldn’t be ruined. When I had to travel out of state for work, he volunteered to come along, joking that he was my personal bodyguard. Two years ago, a doctor back home found a shadow on my mom’s lungs and suspected cancer. I was completely paralyzed with fear. It was Carter who contacted a top specialist, secured a hospital bed, dropped all his work, and stayed by my side in the waiting room day and night. When we found out it was a benign tumor, I held him and cried tears of pure joy. My mom saw everything. From then on, she’d intentionally bake him pies and send him care packages, trying to boost my image in his eyes. Carter would always laugh and tease that he was reaping the benefits of knowing me. My mom knew all of this. Just like my friends, she knew everything Carter had done for me over the years, and naturally assumed it was only a matter of time before we got together. That was why her heart ached for my unrequited love, prompting her to approach him. But no one expected that right when I was ready to confess, Carter would beat me to the punch to remind me of my place. I opened my mouth to ask why, but Carter seemed to read my mind. He answered with cruel consideration. “Everything I’ve done for you was just because I view you as a friend. That’s all it is.” 2 I had been berated by clients all day and forced to drink at a luncheon. My head was pounding. But I still wanted to fight for myself one last time: “But the way you treat me crossed the line of a normal friendship a long time ago.” Who drives across town in the dead of night to buy expensive ingredients, just to cook a meal to cheer up a friend? My face was dripping wet. Tears mixed with the rainwater, sliding down the hem of my shirt and soaking into his carpet. Carter raised his hand, seemingly wanting to grab a towel to dry me off. But halfway there, his hand stiffened, and he diverted toward a drawer instead. He pulled out a ridiculously expensive luxury watch and slowly clasped it around his wrist. His tone was completely detached. “Chloe, you just haven’t seen much of the world. That’s why you treat a little bit of basic decency like a lifeline.” “Go out and date a few more guys. You’ll realize what I did was nothing.” My intuition screamed that I was losing him. I wasn’t ready to let go. Like a drowning woman clutching at a rope, I pleaded. “But I think you’re incredible. So many people in the world go from friends to lovers. We’ve known each other for so long, we know everything about each other, and there are no other women in your life. Can’t we just try? I really, really like you, Carter.” “At the very least, you like me as a friend. That means there’s hope, right?” I wanted to list them out. I wanted to list every moment he had been good to me, to prove that there was at least a spark of love between us. But Carter chuckled, finally sounding impatient. “You know we only have a platonic connection, so because you weren’t confident, you had your mom try to force my hand?” His voice was laced with confusion and amusement. “What were you thinking? Did you think even if I didn’t like you, I’d be too polite to reject an elder?” I froze. My immediate reaction was to explain: “No, that’s not—” I honestly didn’t know my mom was going to do that, nor did I want to pressure him. But before I could get the words out, Carter spoke, his voice dripping with disappointment. “Stop joking around, Chloe. You know I despise it when people meddle in my business.” “Even if I were looking, she wouldn’t be on the list.” As if to punctuate his words, the watch on his wrist caught the light, gleaming with cold indifference. It stung my eyes. I belatedly realized it was the newest season’s release from a top-tier luxury brand. Something a regular working-class person could never afford in a lifetime. For a modest paycheck, I swallowed insults from clients and ran through torrential rain to deliver papers. I was standing there looking like a drowned rat, begging for his affection. And all he had to do was stand there and let a single watch remind me of the massive chasm between our worlds. If my mom hadn’t accidentally forced this confrontation, he probably never would have revealed his true background to me. This so-called friendship felt like a massive, humiliating joke. My throat tightened. After a pause, he added, “Even if you do like me, why did you have to go about it this way?” In that moment, it hit me. Carter was blaming me. Blaming me for breaking the delicate balance of our friendship. Blaming me for confessing my feelings using the one method he hated most. Blaming me for not knowing my place and having delusions of grandeur. The damp chill of the rain seeped into my bones, bringing an agonizing ache. I suddenly shivered. Carter frowned and half-raised his hand to do something. But he stopped, remembered himself, and dropped it back to his side, clenching it into a fist. Perhaps realizing his words had been too harsh, he shifted to a coaxing tone. “Stop crying, okay?” “If I actually liked you in that way, I wouldn’t bear to see you looking this miserable. Do you understand?” I suddenly felt utterly pathetic. Not wanting to lose any more of my dignity, I nodded and hoarsely whispered that I understood. I turned around to leave. Carter called out after me. “I’ll have someone bring you up some hot tea.” I shook my head. “No need.” Carter hesitated for a fraction of a second. But in the end, he said nothing. 3 Maybe because of the rain, I slept terribly. I tossed and turned, trapped in endless dreams. In my dreams, Carter’s disappointed voice echoed on a loop. “Chloe, I thought you were different. I thought you’d never let parents interfere in my life.” His face slowly blurred away. The dream rewound through time, landing on the early days of our friendship when I dragged him to a pottery class to relieve stress. Carter was a perfectionist; he demanded flawlessness in everything he did. But he had been restless that day, unable to focus, and naturally couldn’t sculpt anything decent. I pointed to my own lopsided clay lump and said, “You don’t have to be so serious. It can be whatever you want it to be.” “Even if it’s a total mess, you can still enjoy the messy process.” He smiled then. He told me that everyone in his life loved trying to control his decisions. People wanted his money or influence, and when they couldn’t manipulate him directly, they used his parents to force his hand. He had said, “I love hanging out with you because you give me room to breathe.” What did I say back then? I confidently told him that I considered him my best friend. And best friends understand and support each other. They never interfere in each other’s lives for selfish reasons. But now, I had become exactly like the people he despised. Because of my one-sided feelings, I let a parent apply pressure. Even though it wasn’t my intention, to him, the result was exactly the same. I had crossed his ultimate boundary. 4 I took a sick day to rest. When my head finally cleared, I went back to the office. My coworker, Jess, who was helping me set up a conference room, suddenly grabbed my arm, buzzing with excitement. “Chloe! I just saw your guy, Carter. He is dressed to kill today!” “Did he get dressed up just to see you?” “Come on, spill it. Where is he taking you after work?” A tiny spark of hope flared in my chest out of habit, but it was instantly extinguished when I remembered what had happened. I forced a tight smile. “No, he’s not here for me. Probably just visiting.” After all, during the two days I was home sick in bed, he hadn’t sent me a single text. Jess didn’t look convinced, but she dropped it. Soon, Carter appeared. But he didn’t walk toward me. Instead, under the spotlight of everyone’s attention, he walked straight onto the main stage. —Speaking on behalf of the Hayes Group regional branch. This wasn’t on the original conference agenda. It must have been a last-minute addition. “The speaker is the heir to the Hayes Group. Rumor has it he just started taking over the family business a few weeks ago, starting with this branch. Today is his first official public appearance.” Jess whispered the fresh gossip in my ear, shaking her head. “Wait, Carter has been picking you up from work for years, and nobody knew he was the Hayes heir? He hides it well. And you—your best friend is a billionaire and you didn’t even tell me—” She nudged my arm, turning to tease me. But when she saw how completely drained of color my face was, she hesitated. “Chloe, you didn’t know… did you?” I really didn’t. That watch a few days ago was the only clue I had that his family was wealthy. I was just finding out today that he was the heir to the Hayes Group. He had hidden it flawlessly all these years. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, realizing in a daze that this was an incredibly ruthless way to reject someone. He was telling me he had never considered me a true friend. And he was reminding me that the gap between us was astronomical. If I knew what was good for me, I’d stay far away. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat and went back to work. As Carter’s speech neared its end, some corporate employees from the Hayes Group nearby started gossiping about how handsome he was. The conversation inevitably shifted to his love life. After mentioning the endless string of high-society setups his family arranged, one woman scoffed: “The craziest part is, a few days ago, some working-class mom actually ambushed Mr. Hayes trying to set him up with her daughter. Since when can just anyone walk up and pitch themselves to the heir?” I knew secrets didn’t stay secret, but I couldn’t believe it had spread this fast. The voices continued. “Your intel is off. I heard the daughter actually knew Mr. Hayes for years, claiming to just be a platonic friend.” “But get this: she hung around him for years playing the ‘friend’ card, and the second she found out he was taking over the company, she threw herself at him. Talk about looking for a payday.” Someone else chimed in: “Worse than that. She even sent her small-town mom to do the dirty work. Does she think she’s some aristocratic heiress, demanding an arranged marriage?” My face turned ashen. I didn’t even realize that to outsiders, this was the narrative. Was this how Carter saw me too? Jess frowned and asked me, “The girl they’re talking about…” I looked up just as Carter was walking past our section toward the backstage area, and our eyes met. My voice was dry. “Yeah. It’s me.” Carter’s gaze swept over me, landed briefly on the gossiping women—he definitely heard them—and his expression remained completely blank. He didn’t stop. He just kept walking. Jess instantly flared up. “What is his problem?! Why is he telling everyone about this?” “He lies about his identity for years, yet he’s perfectly fine letting you take the fall and get dragged through the mud? What a jerk!” I dug my fingernails into my palms, not sure if I was answering Jess or comforting myself. “It means we aren’t friends anymore.” Because I presumed to cross a boundary, we were no longer friends. And I needed to drop the delusions once and for all. 5 The drama with Carter eventually made its way back to my mom. My older sister, Sarah, was out of town for work, and my mom was at her place watching my nephew. When I went over, she wiped her hands nervously on her apron and asked, “Did I do something wrong, honey? Did I cause you trouble?” I pressed my lips together and shook my head. “No, Mom. Carter just doesn’t like me back. It’s really not a big deal.” If there was one person in the world who genuinely just wanted me to be happy, it was my mom. She didn’t know the politics. She just saw my heartbreak. She just wanted me to smile. To distract her, I mentioned that I was going to ask my company for a transfer to our Boston office. A promotion and relocation was something HR had offered me months ago. Back then, Carter had frowned and said the city he hated most in the world was Boston. So, I had stood in solidarity with him and turned the offer down. But looking at it now, Boston was exactly where I needed to be. I didn’t want my mom staying here and hearing the nasty rumors, so I used the excuse that I needed her to cook for me, asking her to move to Boston with me. While I handed over my projects at work, my mom started packing. We planned to leave the moment Sarah got back from her business trip. During this time, Carter and I didn’t exchange a single word. But halfway through the week, the school called and demanded I come in, claiming my nephew, Noah, had tripped a classmate. Sarah didn’t know Carter and I had cut ties, so before I left, she texted: “If it gets messy, ask Carter to go with you. He helped us get Noah into that school, so he knows the staff better.” I didn’t reply. The situation was actually very simple. Another kid was running blindly, didn’t see Noah quietly playing on the floor, and tripped over him, getting a bloody nose. When I got to the office, the principal said it wasn’t entirely our fault, but the other kid was pretty banged up. He suggested I just apologize to the parents to keep the peace. It should have been easy. But when the parents walked in, it was a man and a woman—and the woman was Brittany, a girl who used to aggressively pursue Carter. Back in the day, Carter had used me as a shield to get Brittany to back off, which resulted in her making my life miserable for a while. It only ended when Carter stepped in and gave her family some kind of brutal warning. The man was Brittany’s cousin, Todd. He immediately recognized me. With an oily, flattering smile, he asked: “Wait, aren’t you Carter’s…” Before he could finish, Brittany impatiently whispered something in his ear. Todd’s expression shifted to hesitation. He stepped outside to make a phone call. I don’t know what was said, but when he walked back in, his attitude had completely changed. He was arrogant and aggressive, insisting that Noah had maliciously tripped his kid, demanding that my nephew apologize in front of the entire class. I refused. We argued for a long time. In the middle of it, Brittany stood next to me, smirking. “Chloe, Carter isn’t going to protect you anymore. You’re dead meat.” I rolled my eyes. Brittany was determined to escalate things, trying to direct all her anger at me. She glared and shouted, “Chloe, it’s because this kid is raised by a shameless social climber who throws herself at rich men that he acts like a little delinquent!” Mindful of the principal standing right there, I held myself back from slapping her. Taking advantage of my silence, Brittany pulled out her phone and dialed a number. The moment it connected, she put on a sickeningly sweet, whining voice, completely twisting the story: “Carter! Chloe is bullying my nephew at school, aren’t you going to do something about it?” I realized then that Brittany must have finally gotten her claws into Carter. Not wanting to hear his voice through the speaker, I casually stuck my foot out and tripped Todd. He stumbled forward and knocked the phone right out of Brittany’s hand. Brittany was furious, but all she could do was glare at him. Eventually, another parent who had witnessed the playground incident stepped in and corroborated my story. The school dismissed the issue. After thanking the helpful parent, I walked out to the parking lot. Near the school gates, I saw a familiar car. It was Carter’s old car. The one I had helped him pick out years ago. We had haggled with the salesman for hours to get the price down. When he finally bought it, he picked me up in it all the time, promising that the passenger seat was exclusively mine. But that was all in the past. For the billionaire heir of the Hayes Group, that car was practically garbage. I had no idea why he was still driving it. Brittany ran up to it, thrilled, whining coquettishly. “Oh, you didn’t have to come all this way for something so small! I know you’ve been so busy. Todd and I handled it.” Todd stood nearby, smiling like a lapdog. “Yeah, yeah, exactly. Just a little playground squabble. We handled the unreasonable people.” I was speechless. I didn’t even have the energy to argue over who was actually unreasonable. I just turned and walked away. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Carter looking in my direction. Afraid he was going to back Brittany up and cause a scene, I walked even faster.

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Four years into my marriage to my childhood sweetheart, my family went bankrupt. We started fighting constantly, getting physical, and even wanted a divorce. But unexpectedly, after one of our massive fights, my memory suddenly reverted back to when I was 22. That was when Ethan and I were most deeply in love. And so, I said: “Hubby, hug me.” The aloof, aristocratic man wiped the scratch I had just given him and said coldly, “What kind of game are you playing now?” “Trying a sneak attack this time?” Me: “I want a hug, don’t you?” … After a long pause, he said, “I do.” “Come here.” 1 After a huge fight with Ethan Wright, my memory suddenly snapped back to age 22. 22-year-old Chloe wouldn’t fight with Ethan. She always wanted to stick to him like glue. So, looking at the man sleeping with his back to me, I didn’t even think twice— I aggressively yanked his blanket off. Ethan frowned: “Chloe, are you done throwing your… mmm…” Before he could finish, I straddled him and kissed him deeply. Ethan struggled for a second before violently pushing me away. In the moonlight, the red scratch on his forehead was faint, but it hadn’t scabbed over yet. I didn’t know I was the one who had scratched him earlier. I thought he bumped into something from working too hard. So, I leaned in and gently kissed the wound. Ethan’s body visibly jolted. Then, he pinned me hard against the mattress. His eyes were ice-cold as he gripped my wrists. “What the hell are you doing, Chloe?” “Instead of throwing punches, you’re resorting to sneak attacks now?” I couldn’t understand what he was saying. I only knew he seemed really angry. 22-year-old Chloe hated it most when Ethan was angry. I lifted my upper body, trying hard to press my lips to his. “Hubby, I just wanted to hug you.” I whined playfully, wrapping my arms around his neck: “Don’t you want to?” He stared at me, his gaze as dark and deep as an abyss. After a long silence, he leaned down and kissed me. “I do.” As our lips tangled, I felt his tense body relax in a way it hadn’t in a long time. “More than anything.” 2 I had no idea this was the first intimate contact Ethan and I had shared in three months. I just chalked it up to his youthful stamina, tossing me around harder and harder as the night went on. When I woke up the next day, my lower back felt like it was breaking. Ethan had already left for work, and I pouted. I complained to our housekeeper, Martha, who was standing nearby: “He didn’t even say good morning to me.” “He used to always say good morning!” And kiss me! Martha looked at me with sheer terror, like I was a monster. After a long pause, she choked out two sentences: “Ma’am, three months ago, Mr. Wright gave you a kiss.” “And you cracked his head open with a chair.” Me: … When did I get so violent? I completely refused to believe Martha’s words. After all, Ethan and I were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. We had a great relationship, and when we reached legal age, it was only natural that we dated and got married. How could I possibly do something so awful to him? 22-year-old me didn’t know that when I was 26, my family would go bankrupt. I would become sensitive, paranoid, and withdrawn. And Ethan naturally had an icy, aloof personality. He hated explaining himself. When two silent people clash, I stopped believing in his love, and he couldn’t understand my suspicion. We fought every single day. At our worst, things even got physical… I knew none of this. I waved my hand dismissively: “Stop talking nonsense and pack me a lunch.” “I’m going to the office to see Et…” Before I could finish, a booming woman’s voice echoed from downstairs. “Chloe Evans, you beat my son into that state!” “Get down here right now!” 3 In my memory, Ethan’s mother was incredibly gentle. She always had a warm smile whenever she saw me. But this time, she was furious, her eyes filled with absolute disgust. “Chloe, it’s one thing that your family went bankrupt.” “But do you plan to leech off my Ethan for the rest of your life?!” She suddenly slammed a set of divorce papers onto the table: “The Wright family doesn’t need an incompetent, violent daughter-in-law like you. Sign these papers immediately.” “Leave my son!” I stared blankly at everything unfolding in front of me. Bankrupt? When did my family go bankrupt? Besides, I was cute, bubbly, and outgoing. No one had ever called me “violent” growing up. My 22-year-old self had never weathered a storm like this. I was too stunned to react. As Mrs. Wright stepped forward, enraged, about to grab me— Ethan suddenly appeared. He ran in, panting, and pulled me securely into his arms. “Mom, who gave you the right to touch her?!” “Son, stop being a fool. Look at the gash on your forehead. Do you really want to be tied to this crazy woman for the rest of your life?” I peeked out from his chest, looking pitiful. “I’m not a crazy woman.” Ethan looked down at me, clearly stunned. It seemed he hadn’t expected me to be so calm. He shielded me tightly and said seriously: “She is my wife.” “Whether her family is bankrupt or not, she is.” “You are not allowed to bully her! No one is allowed to bully her!” 4 Up in the master bedroom, Ethan placed me on the bed. His movements carried a trace of unfamiliarity and… defensiveness. Like he was afraid I might suddenly hit him. “Are you okay?” “Hubby, did my family go bankrupt?” I looked up, asking Ethan. No matter how dense Ethan might be, he could see something was very wrong with my mental state right now. But he didn’t call me out. He just stroked my long hair, crouched down, and said earnestly: “It’s okay. You still have me.” As soon as he said that, his face flushed bright red. Probably because at 26, we spent all our time constantly arguing. I had never shown him vulnerability, and he had never tried to comfort me. But things were different now. I lunged forward and hugged him tight. Tears streamed down my face. I choked out: “Hubby, please don’t abandon me, okay?” “I know how much wealthy families care about alliances and profits.” “I know you’d probably rather find a girl who can actually help your career.” “But I really, really love you. I don’t want us to split up.” “Please don’t leave me, okay?” 22-year-old Chloe was a deeply loved, pampered heiress. I had the most love and care in the world. So without overthinking it, I threw myself into his arms, whining and pouring out my love. Ethan visibly froze. A second later, he pulled me slightly away and kissed me fiercely. It was burning, full of love, and carried a dark, impulsive edge I didn’t quite understand. I was pinned to the mattress. “Mmph, you haven’t promised me yet.” I turned my head away: “If you don’t promise, no kissing!” He grabbed my chin. A storm of violent emotions rolled in his eyes: “I promise.” “I will never abandon you.” He made the vow solemnly, his fingers undoing the buttons of my blouse one by one. His passionate kisses were laced with extreme devotion. I heard him whisper: “So… you still love me, too.” It turns out, a man who has been starved of intimacy for a long time is quite terrifying. My body felt like it was falling apart before Ethan finally let me go. He carried me for a quick clean-up, then gently pulled me into his arms, kissing my hair. “Did it feel good?” Just as I was about to answer, a blinding white light flashed before my eyes. Countless memories flooded back into my brain, crashing over me. I was 26 again. 5 Looking at the naked man holding me close. I let out a piercing scream and kicked him right off the bed! “Ethan Wright! You—you took advantage of me!” “We’re about to get a divorce, and you still touched me! Watch how I…” I grabbed the bedside lamp, ready to smash it over his head. But this time, he didn’t dodge coldly like he used to. Instead, he grabbed my wrist mid-air and pinned me back down on the bed. His gaze was teasing, but he wasn’t angry. “Hitting me right after sleeping with me?” Damn it! How did I not realize how strong he was when I used to throw things at him?! I couldn’t break free at all! The memories from just moments ago were all still there, playing on a loop in my head. The whining, the crying, the begging him not to leave me. 26-year-old Chloe wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. I could only choose to actively ignore it. I glared at him furiously: “Let me go!” “We agreed to go get the divorce papers tomorrow.” “Now. We are going right now!” “I’m not signing them,” Ethan said stiffly. He never had a great temper to begin with. In the past, I was usually the one coaxing him. Seeing the wrecked state of the room from my outbursts, the gentleness he had just a moment ago vanished. He was teetering on the edge of anger again. “What exactly do you want?” “Flipping back and forth? Is your brain broken?” “Yes! My brain is broken.” “So right now, immediately, come to the courthouse and sign the papers!” “I don’t want to wait!” Suddenly regaining my 22-year-old memories—if that wasn’t a broken brain, what was? Ethan looked at me, the last shred of his patience finally evaporating. So, he didn’t hesitate anymore. He quickly threw his clothes on and drove us to the courthouse. Filing for divorce in our state requires a thirty-day waiting period. While we were submitting the paperwork, the clerk suddenly looked at me and said, “Ms. Evans, if one party has committed adultery or another fault, you can file for an at-fault divorce.” “That way, you might not have to wait.” Adultery? I followed the clerk’s frowning gaze. The hickey on Ethan’s neck was incredibly conspicuous. It was glaringly obvious it was left there last night. So… the clerk thought I caught my husband cheating? Ethan caught on instantly. He reached up, casually pulled his collar down a bit more, and said with a straight face: “She gave me these.” “I didn’t cheat.” “Oh? Then why are you getting a divorce?” the clerk asked. Ethan: “She has split personalities. One minute she loves me, the next minute she doesn’t.” 6 Damn it… You’re usually a man of so few words. Why are you explaining yourself so clearly now?! I didn’t have the energy to argue with him. I handed in the application and practically sprinted out of there. Once I got into a cab, I received a call from my mom. She told me the debt collectors were at her door again. I quickly told the driver to turn around and head to my mom’s place. The cramped, narrow corridors of this rundown apartment building… If my family hadn’t gone bankrupt, if my dad hadn’t run off with his mistress and illegitimate daughter, I would have never stepped foot in a place like this in my entire life. A group of burly men was blocking the doorway, demanding to know when my mom would pay up. I immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her. “I’ll get you the money. Didn’t we already agree on a payment plan?” “Then why didn’t you transfer the money yesterday? Yesterday was the due date.” Me: Because I had amnesia. But who would believe that? Helpless, I had no choice but to empty all the cash in my purse and hand it to the man, promising him that I would pay on time moving forward. That finally got them to leave. Once the crowd dispersed, my mom grabbed my hand, looking sick with worry. “Chloe, mom knows you’re out of money too. Could we ask Ethan to help us out just a bit?” I collapsed exhaustedly onto the peeling faux-leather sofa, my voice muffled. “He can’t help us anymore. We’re getting a divorce.” My mom was shocked, but she quickly expressed her understanding. After all, she had married “down” when she chose my dad. She spent decades enjoying a smooth, harmonious life, leveraging her resources to help him climb the ladder. But even then, my dad secretly had another woman and another child on the side. When disaster struck, he didn’t even think twice before abandoning us both. How long can a marriage really hold up? Especially one hit by a massive crisis. No one knows. “Then what are you going to do? Working as a piano teacher at that local academy isn’t going to be enough to pay off this kind of debt,” my mom said, her brows furrowed tight. I comforted her: “It’s fine, Mom. I’ll borrow a little from Mia first, and I’ll pick up a few extra side gigs. We will get through this.” My mom buried her face in my shoulder and cried like a child. And me—the girl who used to whine and throw tantrums freely—had to learn how to grow up. I was no longer my 22-year-old self. At 22, I loved attending high-society galas and parties. Everywhere I went, I was the superstar carrying limited-edition designer bags. But at 26, wearing a generic dress provided by the event organizers, I sat in the corner, tirelessly playing piano piece after piano piece. Completely ignored. Eventually, my best friend, Mia Sullivan, came over. She rubbed my wrist sympathetically. “Are you okay, Chloe? Are you tired?” I shook my head: “I’m surviving.” Several people nearby had recognized me. They couldn’t help but sneer and point fingers at me. But my mind was entirely focused on getting my paycheck. I had no energy to care about anything else. Just as I was heading to get my payment, a familiar face entered my line of sight. It was Ethan. Tall, dressed in an immaculately tailored suit, his handsome face drew the attention of countless women in the room. But he ignored all of them, stubbornly keeping his eyes fixed in my direction. Our eyes met. I didn’t say a word. A flicker of anger slowly built in his eyes. So, when the next girl came up to offer him a drink, he didn’t brush her off. Mia clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk. He’s obviously trying to make you jealous.” “You aren’t going over there? Are you really willing to let him go?” I shook my head. I was just about to tell her that we were already getting a divorce. Besides, in my current state, just keeping myself fed was a struggle. I didn’t have the energy to march over there and play petty jealousy games over a romance. But before I could even voice my thoughts, another blinding white light flashed before my eyes. Oh, no. As the thought crossed my mind, my brain’s memories began scrambling again, finally locking into place. Yep. I had… traveled back to being 22 again. 22-year-old Chloe watched another woman casually place her hand near Ethan’s shoulder. Instantly, I was engulfed in a blazing inferno of rage. Without a second thought, I slapped away the envelope of cash the event manager was trying to hand me, and stomped straight toward Ethan. “Ethan Wright, you are not allowed to hold another woman!”

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Drunk, I ran over and banged on the door of my boss—the man I had been secretly in love with. I cried and cursed him out for being a heartless jerk. After I yelled for a good while, a cold voice came from behind me: “Nina, come here! You’re yelling at the wrong door!” 01. My head was spinning, but why did the crisp, cool voice behind me sound exactly like Sebastian’s? I turned around to see a breathtakingly handsome man standing at the door across the hall. He had a stoic, flawless face, wearing casual loungewear and radiating an icy, untouchable aura. So handsome. I shook my dizzy head. Wait, isn’t this Sebastian Cole? I pointed at the door I had been furiously knocking on for the past ten minutes and earnestly mocked him: “Sebastian, you’re so dumb. This is your apartment.” He sighed, furrowed his brows, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nina, come here.” I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes, and said stubbornly, “I’m not coming over. I’m here to break up with you.” “Allow me to remind you,” Sebastian let out a breath of amused disbelief, resting his hand on the doorframe, “Miss Nina, we have never dated.” My eyes immediately turned red, and I looked like I was about to burst into tears. “You really have changed. You heartbreaker.” Sebastian: “……” “Alright, enough fooling around. You’re going to wake the neighbors.” He looked at me helplessly and reached out to pull me over. “Come inside and sober up first.” My vision was completely blurry. It looked like there were two of him trying to grab me. Annoyed, I tried to shove him away, but my hands hit empty air. I lost my balance and pitched forward hard. My violently spinning world was suddenly steadied by an arm wrapping tightly around my waist. Sebastian’s handsome face magnified in my vision. He picked me up effortlessly. Nestled in his arms, the faint, cool scent of cedarwood filled my nose, wrapping me in an overwhelming sense of security. I nuzzled into his neck, took a deep, satisfied breath, and broke into a triumphant smile. I tilted my chin up proudly. “Since you’re basically begging for forgiveness, I’ll let it slide. You’re still my favorite person.” The man let out a cold scoff. “How generous of you, Miss Nina.” I leaned against him, eyes closed. A moment later, feeling his grip loosen, my eyes snapped open. I poked him hard in the cheek, complaining loudly, “Are you trying to abandon me?!” Sebastian’s face stiffened. He tilted his head to the right, but my finger followed him. He couldn’t dodge it. “Nina,” he took a deep breath, “I am just trying to put you on the couch.” I wrapped both my arms tightly around his neck, refusing absolutely. “No. I like it exactly how it is right now.” Sebastian’s voice sounded like it was squeezed through gritted teeth. “I can’t hold you like this forever. You’re going to fall.” I silently slid down, standing on the couch cushion so I was exactly eye-level with him. He let out a cold huff. “At least you listen.” I looked at him with deep pity and sighed dramatically. “What else can I do? Since you’re so weak, I have to save your energy for when it really counts.” Sebastian’s face went completely dark. He asked, word by word, “And when exactly does it really count?” I tilted my head, smiled, threw my arms back around his neck, and pulled myself into his chest, pressing a soft peck to his lips. “For… for times like this.” 02. The above is everything I can remember. Some people are alive, but they might as well be dead. And what the hell happened after I kissed him?! If I’m going to die of embarrassment, at least let me know how it ended! I hate alcohol! Eventually, after an intense internal pep talk, I crept toward the front door, making sure the coast was clear. I carefully twisted the knob, right on the verge of my great escape, when a gorgeously sculpted, muscular arm suddenly slammed across the door in front of me. Above my head came a man’s lazy, morning-gravel voice: “Sobered up?” My scalp went numb. I didn’t dare look him in the eye. “Y-Yeah. Yep. I won’t bother you anymore. No need to walk me out, no need at all…” But the arm blocking the door didn’t budge. Instead, he leaned in, completely blocking my exit. He seemed to have just woken up. His usually sharp, icy eyes carried a hint of morning fatigue. He looked down at me through half-lidded eyes, the morning sun hitting his face, tracing his flawless profile with gold. He looked like an absolute god. I stared, completely mesmerized. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched the corners of his lips. He leaned down and whispered, “Miss Nina, you seem to have forgotten something.” Alarm bells rang in my head, snapping me out of my trance. “I… I don’t remember anything from last night,” I stammered, blushing furiously, deciding to play dumb to the bitter end. “So, you kissed me, and you plan to just walk away?” Sebastian stared at me with deep, unreadable eyes. I looked at him, completely bewildered. “So… do you want me to take responsibility?” The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. I took a tiny step forward, looking up at him with eyes full of hope. “Can I? Really?” He let out a soft “Heh” and smirked. “In your dreams.” 03. “HAHAHAHA!” Stella let out a loud, unhinged laugh that rattled the coffee shop windows. “He really said that?” I glared at her, thoroughly heartbroken, silently condemning her. This was all her fault, and here she was, laughing at me. Last night, she went through a bad breakup and dragged me out drinking. After a few too many, she turned her sights on me, nagging about how I had been single since birth and how, now that I finally had a crush, I needed to “boldly pursue love.” I was completely wasted. With her hyping me up, I was filled with liquid courage and decided to make my move right then and there. And we all know how that ended. “Well, you’ve already kissed him, and you hugged him. Your ulterior motives are completely exposed, so just go for it!” Stella’s eyes sparkled with gossip. “Besides, you two have known each other forever. You have a massive home-court advantage over anyone else.” I slid down the booth seating, groaning in depression. I first met Sebastian Cole during the college debate team tryouts. He was the team captain, two years ahead of me. The moment I walked into the crowded lecture hall, my eyes locked onto him at the judges’ table. Even surrounded by people, he had this distant, solitary aura. His skin was pale, and his dark eyes held a cold, snowy glint. My soul left my body. It was love at first sight. Thank God I had a sharp tongue. I made the team and competed alongside him in countless tournaments. I was the aggressive first speaker; he was our closer. In the arena, I was the sniper, and he was my impenetrable shield. We were the perfect partners. Naturally, when he founded his firm after graduation, he asked me to join. But I only fully realized my feelings for him a month ago. I had heard through the grapevine that because Sebastian had been perpetually single, his family issued an ultimatum: he had to bring a girl home for Christmas this year. I laughed in his face, teasing him that it wasn’t his family’s fault for pushing—he literally never had a woman around him. He had been signing documents. He suddenly looked up at me, arguing with absolute seriousness: “I have you by my side. Are you not a woman?” I froze, blinking, my heart slowly accelerating. He didn’t seem to notice my panic. He looked down, thought for a second, then looked back up with a self-deprecating smile. “But I guess… I really only have you.” We locked eyes for a brief, loaded second. He turned his head to look out the window. My mind was a mess, and I subconsciously followed his gaze. It was a clear, warm afternoon. A few golden leaves were drifting down from the trees. He smiled faintly, entirely dropping the cold facade he wore for the rest of the world. His voice was relaxed and soft. “Nina, it’s our ninth autumn.” Our ninth autumn since we met. Looking at his profile, his face seemed to overlap with the stoic college boy from years ago. My chest swelled, something taking root and violently blooming. I couldn’t sleep that night. Tossing and turning, it finally hit me. I had been in love with him for a very long time. 04. Because we had known each other for so long, I overthought everything. I wanted to get closer to him, but I was terrified. I wanted him, but I was afraid of ruining our friendship. Yet, while I was agonizing over this, my brain couldn’t help but replay the memory of him princess-carrying me last night. He picked me up so effortlessly. His body was so warm. I could swear I felt the rigid outline of his pecs through his shirt… “What are you giggling at?” “Huh? Was I smiling?” Stella handed me her compact mirror. Great. My grin was stretching from ear to ear. “Look at you, you absolute fool.” Stella gave me a meaningful look. “If you don’t fight for him now, you’ll die of regret when he belongs to someone else.” My heart squeezed tightly at those words. Looking at my flushed, lovesick face in the mirror, I clenched my fists! “Decided! I’m going to pursue him!” 05. Can we get dinner tonight? Too direct. Delete. That new restaurant downstairs from your place is pretty good. Too roundabout. Delete. I cordially invite you to dine with me. Too formal and weird. Delete. While I was agonizing over the wording, the chat window suddenly showed: Sebastian is typing… He was messaging me too! In my panicked excitement, my hand slipped, and I hit send on my half-typed message! I stared at the screen: [I want to eat you.] NO! I meant to type: ‘I want to eat at that new restaurant downstairs with you!’ Frantically, I jammed my finger onto the screen to unsend it. I hit Delete for Me instead. My hand froze. My brain short-circuited. Sebastian replied instantly: [?] A second later, another message popped up: [You’ve got quite the appetite.] I wanted to punch a hole through the wall! I quickly typed out my original intended message, desperately explaining that it was a typo. He didn’t reply. I buried my face in a throw pillow, groaning. I ruined it again. Ding! It was Sebastian! I scrambled to open the message. Sebastian: [Sounds reasonable enough.] My shoulders slumped. He absolutely didn’t believe me. Last night I forced him to hug me and kissed him, and today I send him unhinged, thirsty texts. In his head, I must look like an absolute predator. While I was wallowing in misery, another Ding! Sebastian: [Come over to my place tonight.] !!! I immediately replied with an [Okay!], spent three hours getting ready, and left looking absolutely flawless. This time, I knocked on the correct door. The door swung open. Sebastian was on the phone, nodding at me to come in. To my delight, he was wearing a crisp white tailored suit. He looked incredibly formal. He… he dressed up for our date?! While I was secretly thrilled, he handed me a designer handbag. Wait, isn’t this my bag?! I left it here last night! So, he just called me over to give me my purse back? Thinking of the three hours I spent doing my hair and makeup, I took the bag, my excitement completely crushed. “Thanks. I’ll let you get back to work. Bye.” The door clicked shut behind me. I stiffened for a second, didn’t look back, and stomped toward the elevator, mentally cursing him out. He didn’t even invite me inside! Didn’t even offer me a glass of water! How rude! As I was fuming, a hand grabbed my arm. I whipped around to see a bewildered Sebastian. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get dinner?” “I already made the reservation.” His handsome face was full of confusion. “Are you not eating?” 06. Mystery solved, folks. He was dressed formally because he had just finished a video conference with a client. We were getting dinner to discuss work. A massive audit project in a neighboring city had just dropped in our laps, requiring a full report within two weeks. Because the timeline was brutal, the payout was astronomical. My commission on this alone would be huge. It just goes to show: single women make bank. Halfway through the meal, the waitress brought over a wine menu, asking if we wanted to open a bottle. Before I could even speak, Sebastian shot me a sideways glance and smoothly declined, “No thank you, she can’t drink.” The waitress smiled sweetly. “You treat your date so well, sir.” I awkwardly cleared my throat. “Ah, well, he’s not doing it to be nice.” The waitress gave a knowing, shy smile. “Oh… why else would it be?” My eyes lit up! She gets it! She totally gets the vibe! Unfortunately, Sebastian was immune to this kind of playful banter. He slowly cut his steak and asked me in a strictly professional tone, “The timeline is extremely tight. We need to drive down there tonight. Are you okay with that?” “Of course.” I agreed instantly. When it came to work, I was always all-in. “I’ll drive you back to your place after we eat. Pack your bags and we’ll leave immediately,” Sebastian said elegantly dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “Drive tonight? We won’t get there until midnight. It’s a Saturday, finding a hotel is going to be impossible.” Under the restaurant’s crystal chandelier, Sebastian looked pristine and cold, but the words that left his mouth made my blood boil in the best way possible. “You’ll sleep at my place.” 07. Since audit work involves constant travel and we had many long-term clients in the neighboring city, Sebastian had simply bought a condo down there. From the moment we walked into his apartment, I couldn’t stop grinning. The client’s financials were highly sensitive this time, which is why they only trusted their two lead consultants—me and Sebastian—to handle it. Sebastian’s logic was purely pragmatic: it’s unsafe for a woman to stay in hotels alone, the timeline was tight, and living together meant we could work insane overtime hours efficiently. At the time, I had nodded calmly, pretending this made perfect professional sense. Internally, I was screaming with joy! I get to live alone with him for two weeks?! Who wouldn’t be thrilled?! “Nina, why are you following me? What are you trying to do?” The man in front of me turned around abruptly. I crashed face-first into his chest. A second later, he gently pushed me back. I looked around. Oh, we were at the bathroom door. Sebastian looked down at me, a half-smile playing on his lips, asking with deadly seriousness. “Didn’t I feed you enough tonight?” Feed me… He still remembered that “I want to eat you” text! So that’s the other reason he brought up dinner! “I’m full, I’m full.” I laughed awkwardly. “I thought we were still doing the apartment tour.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow. His long, elegant fingers gripped my shoulders, and he effortlessly spun me around 180 degrees. “The tour ended ten minutes ago.” His chin brushed the top of my head, his warm breath tickling my ear, though his voice remained cool as ice. “Miss Nina, I need to take a shower now. Could you please step out?” What was I supposed to say? No?! I mumbled some incomprehensible agreement and bolted out of his master suite, my heart pounding against my ribs, my face burning. The condo was huge; my guest bedroom had its own en-suite bathroom. After showering in a daze, I went to the kitchen for water while texting Stella. “I’m supposed to be the one seducing him! Why does it feel like I’m the one getting played?!” She replied like a seasoned veteran: “The unintentional rizz is always the deadliest.” It made sense. I asked her what to do. She spammed me with a dozen photos of guys with eight-pack abs. Added text: [Look at more hot guys. Desensitize yourself.] My eyes locked onto one specific photo. The guy’s face was cropped out, but he was biting the hem of a soaking wet white t-shirt. Water dripped down his perfectly sculpted abs. It was an absolute testosterone overload! My eyes went wide. Oh my… Why has she been hiding the good stuff from me?! I looked closer. The guy had pale skin and a cool, aloof vibe—kind of like Sebastian. Imagining Sebastian—my pristine, untouchable boss—doing that exact pose… I was completely on fire! Just as I was giggling like a maniac at my phone, everything went pitch black. At the exact same moment, something cold grabbed my arm. In the dead silence of the dark, my heart violently contracted, and a blood-curdling scream ripped from my throat. 08. My mind went completely blank. As I screamed, I threw a blind, panicked punch. My fist collided with something rock hard. The man let out a muffled grunt and caught my wrist before I could swing again. “It’s me. The power went out.” I trembled, finally finding my voice. “Sebastian?” “Yeah. I’m here. Don’t be afraid.” Sebastian smoothly pulled me closer, wrapping me in a loose embrace. His large, warm hand patted my back with a steady, comforting rhythm. “The building management just texted. Emergency pipe repairs. Power will be out for an hour.” “So… you were coming to tell me, and the lights went out right when you grabbed me?” “Yes.” Sebastian kept his hand moving, gently patting my back. He remembered. He remembered that I was terrified of the dark, and he remembered what I told him years ago—that patting my back was the only thing that calmed me down. My heart settled instantly, replaced by a giddy flutter of happiness. I patted my chest, catching my breath, completely relaxing. Only then did I realize how compromising our position was. I was practically glued to his body. Feeling his abs mere inches from me, a dangerous spark lit up in my brain. “I’m so sorry! Did I hit you hard? Let me rub it for you.” My “kind and caring” hand reached out toward his stomach. Just before making contact, my wrist was caught in a vice grip. The world spun. Suddenly, my back was pinned against the wall, both of my wrists pinned high above my head. He leaned in dangerously close. I could feel his breath. “Nina, are you trying to rub it for me, or are you trying to take advantage of me?” In the pitch black, with only a blurred silhouette visible, all my other senses were dialed up to eleven. I shivered nervously, my heart racing at a million miles an hour. I tried to twist my wrists, but he only pressed them harder against the wall. “Don’t move.” Sebastian leaned in closer. His cool voice carried a dangerous rasp. “Explain yourself.” I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust. This position was way too scandalous… Biting the bullet, I stammered out a terrible lie: “D-don’t overthink it. I really just wanted to… rub it better.” By the last two words, my voice had squeaked into a guilty whisper. “Is that so?” He sounded deeply amused. He pulled out an object glowing with a harsh white light. “Then what is this?” I subconsciously looked over. On his glowing phone screen was the picture Stella had sent me of the wet t-shirt ab guy. Followed by the messages I had just sent her. A row of heart-eyes, drooling emojis, and the text: [AHHHH Stella, he looks just like my Sebastian! I want to touch him so bad and do [censored] things to him!!] Kill me… Bury me… right here, right now… I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and play dead. But out of the corner of my eye, the glow of the screen illuminated Sebastian’s stoic, ascetic face. He raised an eyebrow, tilted his chin, and looked down at me with an air of absolute superiority. Then, he abruptly reached up with his free hand and yanked his tie loose. 09. “S-S-Sebastian, w-what are you doing?” I watched him loosen his tie and unbutton the top two buttons of his dress shirt. I gulped audibly, my words stumbling over each other. “Scared?” Sebastian’s tone was playful. He casually turned on his phone’s flashlight and set it on the hallway table. The small space lit up. He stepped closer. The man who was usually so cold and composed was smiling wickedly. “Didn’t you say you wanted this?” Wanted? Wanted what? What I texted about?! My heart shot up into my throat like it was on a rollercoaster. I chickened out! I totally chickened out! I plastered myself flat against the wall, putting my hands up defensively, giving him the most pathetic, sycophantic smile. “I-I’m not ready yet! Can we take a raincheck?!” Sebastian finally stopped. I was entirely caged in his space. He let out a low chuckle. “Nina, you really are…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He took a few steps back, admiring my tomato-red face, his smile teasing and slightly cruel. In that moment, Sebastian’s sharp features were painted with a heavy dose of tension. His tie was loose, his shirt slightly unkempt, giving a faint glimpse of his chest. I floated out of there like a ghost, my heartbeat drumming wildly in my ears. I don’t even remember how I ended up lying in the bed in his guest room. Listening to the sound of running water from his bathroom, my face was still burning. His words tumbled around in my head. “The management said the power outage is delayed. You’ll be scared alone, so sleep in my room. I’ll stay with you.” “I was going to shower earlier, got the call, and came straight to find you.” “Go to sleep, don’t wait up. I’ll sleep on the couch after I finish working.” I was being completely taken care of, scheduled down to the minute. Thinking back over the years, he had always taken care of me like this. I was so used to relying on him that I only just realized—drop by drop, all those little moments had formed an ocean of love. I couldn’t help but wonder… his behavior tonight… does he like me too? And what did he mean by “Nina, you really are…”?! Tossing and turning, smiling one minute and agonizing the next, I eventually drifted off. I dreamt about our college days. Once, after losing a debate tournament, we stayed in a small conference room analyzing the match until 11 PM. By the time we left, the dining halls were closed. Starving, I walked toward the sketchy food stalls off-campus to grab a bite. The street was dark and practically deserted. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man dart out of an alleyway to my right, staring at me intently. My instincts screamed danger. I walked as fast as I could to the nearest lit food cart, pretending to casually order dumplings, while speed-dialing Sebastian. He picked up immediately. Suppressing my tremors, I put on my best acting voice. “Hey babe, I’m at the West Gate food street. Didn’t you say you were picking me up? You’re two minutes away, right?” Sebastian arrived in thirty seconds. He had sprinted the whole way. Panting, he grabbed my wrist, letting out a visible sigh of relief. I was paralyzed with fear. I instinctively gripped his arm with both hands, trying to keep my voice steady. “Let’s… let’s go.” Just as I said that, I noticed the creepy guy hadn’t left! My heart spiked, and I pressed myself tightly against Sebastian’s side.

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My boyfriend complained that I looked ugly in glasses, so I bought a pair of contact lenses online. But then, something bizarre happened. After putting the contacts in, I looked at my sweet, doting boyfriend, only to see him glaring at me with utter disgust. “If it weren’t for her money, who would ever date this loser?” he sneered. I blinked, taking the contacts out. Suddenly, he was standing right in front of me, a charming smile plastered on his face. “Babe, you look absolutely gorgeous today.” From that day on, I discovered the secret of those contact lenses— As long as I wore them, I could see people’s true inner thoughts. It turned out my perfect boyfriend was nothing but a two-faced parasite. 1 My boyfriend begged me to buy him a new pair of sneakers, and I said no. He got angry and stormed into my homeroom to confront me. Coincidentally, I was wearing my special contacts again. “Babe, I don’t know what I did to make you so mad, but please forgive me. I really want those sneakers, just buy them for me, please?” He had no idea I could see his vicious, twisted expression as his true inner voice spat: “I’m giving you an inch and you’re taking a mile. I can’t believe I actually have to beg you for this.” I was so startled by his hostile glare that I stumbled backward, accidentally stepping hard on someone’s foot. Looking down, I saw a prominent, dirty smudge smeared across a blindingly white sneaker. I looked up. A breathtakingly handsome guy was looking down at me, his chin tilted slightly. I was just about to apologize. Then I saw him looking at me with dark, unreadable eyes, his inner voice saying: “What is wrong with her taste? Why is she dating a piece of trash like that?” Me: ? Excuse me, how is that polite? Seeing him turn to leave, I quickly called out to him. “It’s my fault for stepping on your shoe, and I apologize for that. But insulting people in your head is just rude.” He just paused, gave me a long look over his shoulder, and walked away. I wanted to march over and argue with him, but my boyfriend grabbed my arm. “When did he even insult you?” Impossible. I clearly saw him insult me. The feeling of my boyfriend’s hand on my arm instantly put me on high alert, and I quickly shook him off. A wave of disgust washed over me. I literally felt sick to my stomach. This guy had been with me for three months. I had spent at least fifty thousand dollars on him, and that didn’t even include our expensive dinners and the “allowance” I gave him. Looking back now, I was so stupid and naive. He only loved my money. To him, I was just a walking ATM. 2 Ever since I discovered the secret of the contacts, I started plotting. One day, I was going to make him spit out every single cent he took from me. Watching my boyfriend’s frustrated expression, I swallowed my disgust and put on a fake, playful smile. “I’ll buy them. I never said I wouldn’t.” He looked a bit surprised, but didn’t question it. “Babe, then hurry up and order them.” He shifted his weight and put on a pathetic, pleading look. “The big basketball game is coming up, and I was really hoping to wear those Dunks to shine on the court.” Oh, so that’s how it is. Fine, I’ll let you keep acting. I coaxed him into leaving, promising I’d buy them tonight. Once he was gone, my entire focus shifted to the desk in front of me. The guy whose shoe I stepped on was my new deskmate, Liam Sterling—the poor transfer student everyone was whispering about. I looked around. The classroom was empty. I crouched down and slowly shimmied under the desks. Just as my hand was about to brush against his white sneaker, a deep, shadowy voice came from above. “What kind of weird fetish is this? You like hiding under desks?” I jumped, completely startled, and slammed my head straight into the corner of the desk. My eyes instantly watered from the pain. “Are you an idiot? How did you even manage to hit that? You really do need your eyes checked.” This new kid had a seriously toxic mouth. Before this, I had been so glued to my boyfriend that I never really paid attention to him. Looking at him now… he was actually incredibly attractive. Sharp jawline, straight nose, deep-set eyes—his features were practically flawless. He was better looking than my favorite celebrities. And unlike my boyfriend, he didn’t have two faces. A second later, I remembered my mission. “What’s your shoe size? And your clothing size?” He ignored me. I crouched there awkwardly. If I wasn’t terrified of the rumor mill, I wouldn’t be hiding under a desk. Plus, I had a boyfriend; I was supposed to keep my distance from other guys. “I accidentally stepped on your shoe earlier. I’m just here to apologize and make it right.” The moment I finished speaking, he leaned over and looked under the desk. “That doesn’t sound like an apology.” I froze for a second before catching his drift. “I’m sorry I got your shoe dirty. To show you how sorry I am, let me buy you a new pair. How does that sound?” He stared at me for a long moment. “Size 10.” I mentally logged the shoe size. “What size clothes do you wear?” Suddenly, he leaned in closer. As he moved, a faint, sweet scent of strawberries drifted through the air. I wasn’t entirely sure if it was coming from him. Honestly, what teenage guy smells like strawberries? “What size does your boyfriend wear?” I answered honestly, “Large.” “Alright. I’m a Double XL.” He let out a short, mocking laugh. “He’s so scrawny. What use is a guy like that?” I didn’t entirely get his underlying meaning, but he was right. Mason was skinny—like, withered, bony skinny. I had never cared about my boyfriend’s physique before, but suddenly, Liam’s words made an awful lot of sense. Regardless, I quickly pulled out my phone and ordered several pairs of limited-edition Dunks and designer athletic wear. 3 On the day of the basketball game, I shoved the shopping bags onto Liam’s desk. He frowned, glancing down at them with clear annoyance. “Take them back.” I checked to make sure no one was looking, then gave him my best puppy-dog eyes. “I can’t. Final sale.” “Then throw them out.” Suddenly, a classmate sprinted into the room to grab something and sprinted right back out. On his way, he shoved me hard. Losing my balance, I crashed headfirst right into Liam’s chest. That faint, familiar strawberry scent completely enveloped me. Following immediately after was a sharp, stinging pain in my nose. “Are you actually a pig? Last time you headbutted a desk, this time you tackle me. What are you going to crash into next?” My nose stung so badly it brought tears to my eyes. I reached up to rub it, but his voice stopped me. Then, I watched as he pulled a childish strawberry-print band-aid from his backpack, peeled the wrapper, and gently placed it across the bridge of my nose. I froze. I crossed my eyes to look at the cartoon strawberry on my face. “Who puts a band-aid on their nose? It looks so ugly.” I was just about to rip it off when I heard someone calling his name from the hallway. I realized how compromising our position looked. The footsteps got closer. In a pure panic reflex, I dove straight under his desk, my hands tightly gripping the fabric of his jeans. A guy poked his head in. “Liam, the counselor wants to see you in his office this afternoon.” “Got it.” The guy left. My nose started itching. Just as I raised a hand to scratch it, a large, warm palm covered the top of my head. “Don’t move.” I froze in terror. The classmate had turned back around. “Did you need something else?” “No.” “Oh, okay.” I finally exhaled a breath I didn’t know I was holding and crawled out from beneath the desk. “Sorry about that,” I laughed awkwardly. He sat up straight, his tone softening. “What did you really want?” Right. I almost forgot the actual plan. But knowing I was going to use him this afternoon made it hard to say out loud. Yet, I couldn’t exactly swap my leading man at this point. “It’s just… could you wear the clothes and shoes I bought you to the game this afternoon?” He reached out with long, elegant fingers, opening the shopping bags on his desk. He glanced inside. “Not bad taste.” “Does that mean you agree?” He leaned in closer. “I can wear the clothes you bought me, but under what title?” “You have a boyfriend. Me wearing clothes you bought… isn’t that a little inappropriate?” He had a point. If my two-faced boyfriend found out, he would literally lose his mind on the spot. I put on my best nonchalant expression. “He won’t be my boyfriend for much longer. Just wear them. If anything happens, I’ll take full responsibility.” A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Before he walked out of the classroom, he leaned down and whispered right against my ear: “Alright. If something happens, you’re responsible.” 4 All afternoon, Mason had been blowing up my phone, demanding I give him the new shoes. I brushed him off, telling him I’d bring them to the court later. He didn’t suspect a thing. He still wants the shoes? He can ask a ghost for them. I got to the bleachers early to wait for Liam. When he finally walked onto the court, wearing the gear and the Dunks I bought him, I couldn’t help the proud, giddy smile spreading across my face. My taste was impeccable. Though to be fair, the guy looked like a model in literally anything. His dark hair was slightly long, the sides faded clean, with a few strands falling perfectly right above his brow line. His sharp jawline led down to a beautifully defined neck. “Wait, how is Liam Sterling wearing limited-edition Dunks? Since when does he have money?” “Right? Didn’t he always wear cheap knockoffs from Temu? And those are the limited releases! They cost thousands!” “You don’t think he’s a sugar baby, do you? I’ve seen a lot of rich girls hitting on him lately.” “Honestly, if I had a face and body like that, I’d find a sugar mama too.” I listened to my classmates gossiping, a little amused. “Who are you guys talking about?” One of the girls pointed at the court. “Him! Liam. He used to wear thrift store junk, and now he’s rocking designer gear. If he isn’t being kept by someone, what else could it be?” Oh, so his name is Liam Sterling. But I bought those for him. I was just about to defend him when an angry voice boomed from above me. “Chloe Bennett! Where are my shoes?” I looked up at Mason’s furious, twisted face. I pointed calmly at Liam on the court. “I bought the wrong size. So I gave them to him.” Instantly, the girls who had been gossiping clamped their mouths shut. “You bought the wrong size, so you tell me! Why the hell would you give them to him?” Under the fading sunlight, I saw his hands ball up into fists. He leaned down, his voice turning lethal. “You dare play games with me? You really have a death wish, don’t you?” I have a death wish? He actually just told me I have a death wish? Even my own parents had never spoken to me like that. I had put up with it for a week. In that moment, the dam finally broke. I stood up, pulled my arm back, and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. “I buy what I want, for whoever I want! Who the hell do you think you are? “You eat my food, you spend my money—what, am I your mother? Are you still nursing? “You play this perfect boyfriend act all day, aren’t you exhausted?” He stared at me in absolute shock, clutching the side of his face that was now burning red. He glared at me with pure venom. “What are you looking at? My money, my rules.” I realized then that he was nothing but a paper tiger. I couldn’t fathom why I had ever been so blinded by him, pouring so much cash into his pockets. Just thinking about it made me nauseous. I couldn’t stomach looking at him for another second. I watched half the game and then headed back to the classroom. 5 I was resting my head on my desk when Mason showed up again. “Chloe, I’m so sorry. I never should have spoken to you like that.” I had just woken up from a nap, so my brain was a little foggy. The guy standing in front of me had morphed back into the gentle, mild-mannered boyfriend who supposedly never raised his voice. It felt completely surreal. He reached out and gently held my hand. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Please forgive me, okay?” Watching tears stream down his face as he offered an endless stream of apologies, I genuinely wondered for a second if I had hallucinated the whole thing. I sat there, utterly exhausted by the whiplash. “You’re being way too loud. Shut up.” I turned toward the voice and saw Liam walking in. I had taken my contacts out to sleep, so my vision was blurry. I could only identify him by his tall silhouette. Before Liam could even sit down, Mason rounded on him. “I’m talking to my girlfriend! Mind your own business! Don’t think just because Chloe bought you some clothes that she actually likes you.” Liam hadn’t even taken his seat yet. He turned his head and looked directly at me. “I really don’t know how blind you have to be to date a piece of trash like this.” Even though I couldn’t see his expression clearly, the quiet rage and heavy sarcasm in his voice were unmistakable. Mason turned back to me, whining, “Chloe, please just forgive me. I swear I’ll never make you mad again. I was just upset today because you gave my shoes to him!” Liam let out a cold laugh. “A man who leeches off a woman’s bank account has the nerve to call me poor. You’ve got some thick skin. Keep gaslighting her, maybe she’ll eventually believe you.” “There’s nothing wrong with spending my girlfriend’s money! What gaslighting? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even without the contacts, I could hear the guilty tremor in Mason’s voice. My head was pounding from their bickering. “Stop fighting. Mason, just go home. We’ll talk tomorrow.” After kicking Mason out, I dug through my bag and put my old, thick-rimmed glasses back on. They were ugly, but I had no choice. I really should have bought backup contacts. The second I put them on and looked up, I was met with a pair of deep, brooding eyes. “Are you legally blind? “You’re actually keeping a guy like that? “Don’t tell me you’re getting back together with him.” His voice kept dropping lower and lower. His eyes darkened, and the very air pressure around us seemed to plummet. When I didn’t answer right away, he added, “Is this what you meant by taking responsibility? “You’re a brilliant actress. It’s a tragedy the Oscars haven’t called you yet.” 6 I went home feeling incredibly frustrated. Thinking about the contacts, I opened the shopping app on my phone to order more, only to find the store had vanished. I dug through my messages and found my chat history with the customer service bot. I sent a question mark, just to see if they were actually shut down. Contact Lens Support: “Hello! Our store has officially closed. If you purchased our special lenses, please do not request a refund yet. I have a huge secret to tell you.” Thank god, a real person was there. “What secret?” Contact Lens Support: “Please click ‘Confirm Receipt’ on your order first, and then I will tell you.” Curiosity won. I went to my orders and hit confirm. “Done.” Contact Lens Support: “When you wear them, you can see people’s hidden, true selves. You can basically consider it mind-reading. Please note, the effect only lasts for one month.” “What do you mean hidden selves? Mind-reading? What are you talking about?” Contact Lens Support: “I am an AI customer service bot. This store is closed.” “Did you just trick me into confirming receipt?!” Contact Lens Support: “We cannot see or hear your messages, so please stop typing. AI gets tired too.” “Are you threatening me?” Contact Lens Support: “AI is exhausted and has gone on strike.” So they basically scammed me into confirming the delivery? But thinking back… ever since I put those lenses in, I had been seeing Mason’s two different faces constantly. Thank god. I legitimately thought I was developing schizophrenia. Why didn’t this sketchy store tell me earlier?! I had bought so many different brands to try, and this was the only pair that didn’t irritate my eyes. But now, I only had one pair left. I wanted to cry. One month was definitely not enough time for me to ruin my ex’s life properly.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “446011”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel