Category: English

Eight years after my husband,Don Damien Vestrani, was killed in a shootout, my best friend, Celeste Marlowe, was gone too. I coughed up blood when the news reached me, but I still forced myself to her funeral. In the visitation room, someone leaned in close to my brother, the one handling the funeral arrangements, and murmured under his breath. “When are you going to tell your sister the truth?” “Celeste has loved Damian in silence all these years. She deserves to be buried beside him—as his wife,his Donna.” My feet stopped as if they had been nailed to the floor. I watched my brother, Julian Ashford, run his fingertips gently across Celeste’s memorial portrait, his voice hoarse. “Damien never wanted anyone to know.” “I married Celeste because I gave him my word. That I’d look after her and the boy for him.” “I’ll have Celeste buried beside Damien. It’s what they both wanted.” That double plot. My husband had chosen it himself, on the highest ridge of Forest Hill Cemetery. And all along, the woman he had meant to lie beside was never me. The triple betrayal of blood, friendship, and love shattered me in a single breath. The room went dark, and I fell backward. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a wedding gown, standing at the altar of the church. Celeste stood in her bridesmaid’s dress, her eyes rimmed red, gazing at Damien. “May the two of you have a long life together.” I stayed silent for a few seconds, then tore off my veil and ran out of the church without looking back. “Sloane!” I had barely reached the doors when Julian, closest to me, caught my wrist. After our parents died in that “incident,” he was the only blood I had left in this world. And yet even he had been keeping the truth from me. Julian’s brow furrowed as he pulled me back. “Today of all days is not the time for a tantrum.” His grip was hard enough that my tears came almost at once. Damien caught up to us, his face full of concern. “Sloane, what’s wrong?” “Is there something you’re not happy with? Tell me. I’ll fix it.” He was exactly as I remembered him. Tender, attentive. The kind of man in whom you couldn’t find a single flaw. He had been the same in my last life. Every dollar that moved through the Vestrani ledgers, I knew about. Every meeting he took out of state, every trip to Europe. He told me himself, before he went. Even the secrets only a Consigliere had any right to hear, he laid at my feet without holding a single one back. And yet this near perfect man had been tangled up with my best friend the whole time. For forty years he had conspired with everyone I loved to keep me in the dark. I sniffed hard and forced it all down. “Damien. I’m not marrying you. We’re through.” Damien’s composure cracked in an instant. “Sloane, what has upset you? Just tell me.” “Whatever it is, I can change it. Please. Just tell me.” He stripped himself of every ounce of pride. so completely that even the guests grew uncomfortable, and started murmuring behind their hands. “That is Don Damien, and she still won’t have him?” “You don’t think she has someone else, do you?” Julian’s face darkened, his anger just barely leashed. “Look at what Damien’s spoiling has done to you.” “I honestly don’t know what game you’re playing. Half the great families on the East Coast would give anything to marry a daughter into the Vestranis,and not one of them has managed it.” His sentence broke off, and his eyes drifted, of their own accord, to Celeste, a few paces away. She was staring at me like everyone else was. Startled. But beneath the surprise, buried very deep, was something that looked almost like hope. I curled the corner of my mouth into a mocking half smile, met Damien’s eyes, and asked him softly. “I’ll ask you once. Have you lied to me?” Something flickered in the back of his eyes. A flash of panic. But his answer came steady. “Of course not.” “How could I ever lie to you?” The words had barely left his lips when the sky beyond the church split open into blossoms of fireworks, light spilling down in ribbons, beautiful beyond belief. By the schedule, this was the exact moment we should have finished our vows and kissed in front of every guest. But now, that whole blazing sky was nothing to me but the punchline of some enormous, cruel joke. I looked at Damien, and I laughed. Then I turned, gathered my skirts, and ran out of the church. By the time I got home, one of my Louboutins was gone, lost somewhere behind me. Like a wounded child, I hid myself in the deepest cabinet at the back of the walk in closet. Half an hour later, they came home. Maybe they had forgotten my old habit of hiding in cabinets. Maybe the things they had to say had waited long enough. They swept the upstairs in a hurried search and decided I wasn’t there. The next thing I heard was Damien’s voice, dropped low into a snarl. “I told you. I told you to find some excuse, any excuse, not to show up at that wedding. Why couldn’t you listen?” Celeste choked back a sob. “I’m her best friend, Damien. If I hadn’t been there, do you think she wouldn’t have wondered?” “Don’t you shout at me. Do you think it was easy for me, standing there watching you marry someone else?” Julian’s voice cut in, low and heavy. “Enough. Don’t blame Celeste. She’s already been through enough.” “If we’re blaming anyone, blame Sloane for being spoiled. Leave her alone. She’ll come to her senses in a few days.” He paused, and then he asked. “Damien. Are you certain you want to marry Sloane? There’s still time.” Damien cut him off without hesitation. “I’ve told you. Sloane is the one I love. What happened with Celeste was an accident.” “An accident? Damien, put your hand on your heart and say that again. If it was really an accident, why did you come to me last night?” The words had barely left Celeste’s mouth when she doubled over, clutching her belly, and cried out. “My stomach. Oh God, my stomach.” “Celeste!” “Celeste!” In a flurry of panic, Damien and Julian rushed Celeste to the hospital. Once they were gone, I pushed the cabinet door open. My face was already ice cold with tears. I pulled out my phone and called an old friend. “That asset management post you mentioned. The one in Oslo. Five year contract. I’ll take it.” “Yes. I can be on a plane in three days.” Norway. Far from this land soaked through with family blood. Far from every single person I had once believed I could give my life to.

I found myself grateful, in the end, that Damien and I had only done the church ceremony, and had never made it to City Hall. If we had, breaking away from him would have been a great deal messier than it already was. I spent the whole afternoon packing. While I was sorting through my documents, I found a photograph tucked into the lining of my wallet. It was of the three of us. I stood in the middle, my left arm through Damien’s, my right arm through Celeste’s, my eyes crinkled into two half moons. Julian had taken the picture. At the time, I had thought there wasn’t a happier person in the world than me. Looking at it now, all I could think was how spectacularly stupid I had been. I drew a long breath and forced myself out of the false comfort of the memory. Just then, Damien called. “Baby, something’s come up over here. I have to handle it.” “Have dinner without me. I’ll come home later and make you a midnight snack, okay?” I tore the photograph into pieces, dropped them into the trash, and said softly: “I told you. We’re over.” “I don’t accept that we’re over.” There was an urgency in his voice on the other end, as though he had more to say. Then, in the background, a familiar voice broke in. “Damien, the doctor said…” Celeste never got to finish. Damien cut the line dead. A text came through immediately after. 【Bad signal on my end. We’ll talk when I’m home.】 【But I’ll say it again. I don’t accept a breakup.】 Watching him keep at the lie, right down to this moment. Something inside me quietly went out. At that exact moment, Celeste posted to Instagram. The photo was of two men’s hands. One was peeling an apple for her. The other was massaging her leg. Being surrounded by the man I love and my best brother. Life is a blessing. I tapped like. A second later, the post, which she had clearly forgotten to hide from my account, vanished. From the curtains in the background and the logo on the headboard, I recognized the place. Beacon Hill Private Clinic. The Vestrani family’s own preferred hospital. Some things, I decided, needed to end. It took me a while to find Celeste’s room. But just before I pushed the door open, I heard Julian’s voice. “Damien. This baby. What are you planning to do?” My hand froze on the handle. I suddenly remembered the child who had called me Aunt Sloane in my last life. Damien and I had never had children of our own. So I had loved that “niece” as though she were my own daughter. Never once suspecting she was the child of my husband and my best friend. Through the gap in the door, Damien’s face was blurred. “The baby can’t stay. Sloane will suspect.” Celeste’s expression, which had been so hopeful, twisted into something ugly. “Damien! Are you even human? This is your child!” Julian reached out, trying to steady her. He pressed his lips together and made the same choice he had made in the life before. “We’ll say the baby is mine. Sloane will only be happy. She won’t think twice.” “And it’ll make it easier for you to be around the child later.” The room fell into silence. At length, Damien nodded. The weight in his face finally eased, and he softened his voice into something coaxing. “I’ll get a vasectomy in a while. Don’t worry. This will be the only child I ever have. Consider it my apology to you.” “We’ll tell everyone that Sloane is the one who can’t conceive. I know a private doctor in Zurich. He can prescribe something that won’t show up on any test she runs on herself. Every result will point back to her.” I gripped the handle so hard I couldn’t move. So this was how it was. In my last life I had carried that guilt like an idiot for forty years. I had flown to every top fertility clinic in North America. Even done IVF. Eight times. Every single cycle had failed. It had never crossed my mind that the whole thing was a trap, laid for me, by hand, by the three people I loved most in the world. Just then, a nurse’s voice came from behind me. “Ma’am? Are you looking for someone?” In the same instant, all three sets of eyes inside the room swung toward the door.

Meeting their stunned faces, I pushed the door open and walked in. “Sloane, listen. Let me explain.” I gave a short, brittle laugh, picked up the chart from the foot of the bed, and pointed at the words threatened miscarriage. I asked him quietly. “Explain what, exactly? Explain how, precisely, you managed to get her pregnant?” “Or explain how you ended up in bed with my best friend in the first place?” “Or perhaps explain how, going forward, my own brother is going to raise your and Celeste’s daughter right in front of my eyes?” My voice was flatter than I had expected of myself. But the slight tremor at the end gave away the thing that was almost swallowing what was left of my reason. Damien opened his mouth. Nothing came out. My gaze moved from the panic on his face to Julian’s forced composure, and finally to Celeste — to the relief of someone who no longer had to hide. And across Celeste, across the relief of someone who no longer had to hide. I pulled my mouth into a thin curve and uncurled my hand, where my nails had cut into the skin of my palm. I was turning to leave when Damien caught me from behind. “Sloane, it isn’t what it looks like. It was an accident.” “Please. Let’s not do this.” At that exact moment, a button on his shirt popped loose. A patch of skin at his collarbone was suddenly visible. I caught it out of the corner of my eye and nearly gagged. There was a bright red mark there. The kind that made it very clear how far things had gone the night before. I shoved him off me. Damien staggered back, off balance, and his elbow caught the electric kettle on the cabinet. The back of his hand went red at once from the scalding water. “What are you doing?” Celeste lifted his hand up to inspect it, her face full of pity. “You wanted to know when it started, didn’t you? Fine. I’ll tell you!” “Shut your mouth!” She ignored Damien’s roar, keeping her eyes on me. Hatred rose slowly to the surface of them. “The night of your twentieth birthday. Damien said there was an emergency with the family. I said I had a fever. Did it never once occur to you how convenient that was?” “Celeste!” Celeste’s mouth curled into a cutting little smile. “After that night, he couldn’t stay away from me.” “You know why? Because I was his first.” “Because he told me, in his own words, that what he had with me was two souls answering each other, and what he had with you was a political marriage between the Five Families. One more piece of business he owed the old man.” “Sloane, from where I’m standing, you’re the one who came in second.” From her first sentence I had been biting down on the tip of my tongue. By the time she was done, the inside of my mouth was full of blood. I raised my hand and slapped her across the face. But in the same instant, Julian’s arm shot out and shoved me hard. “Sloane, have you lost your mind?” “Do you not understand that she’s pregnant?” I lost my footing and went backward. My forehead struck the corner of the table before I could brace. The skin split, and blood ran freely down my face. Slowly, everything went dark. When I came to, before I could even open my eyes, I heard Celeste crying. “Damien. The doctor said this may be the last time I ever conceive.” “If I lose this baby, I’ll never be a mother. Not in this lifetime.” Damien was silent for a few seconds. Then he gave his answer. “Then have the baby.” “When she wakes up, I’ll talk her into adopting the child. It’s the best outcome for everyone.” Celeste stopped crying. “And if she says no?” Damien’s voice slowly turned to ice. “You think she’s in a position to say no?” “The Ashford Don and Donna are long gone. Julian may be her brother, but he stands with me.” “Apart from the three of us, who does she have in this world?” I gripped the sheet, ready on pure instinct to sit up. But then Celeste dropped her voice lower. “And what if she finds out about that?” “That’s two lives, Damien. Two.”

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By the tenth year of my marriage to the Moretti Don, I was finally tired of it all. I stopped checking which villa Lucien Moretti had gone to at night, or which woman he had slept with. And I no longer cared whether he loved me. Even when the family doctor sent over birth control pills, I swallowed them without so much as a frown. Lucien returned to the Moretti estate after dark. He stood beside the bed and said my name in a low voice. “Clara, I haven’t been back the past few days because Vivian got hurt.” “She chased a crew that had hijacked one of our shipments into an alley and got slashed.” “You know what she’s like. If I hadn’t gone, she would’ve kept pushing herself.” I lifted the covers and shifted farther into the bed. “It’s fine. Go to sleep. You still have to meet with the committee tomorrow.” Lucien seemed to pause. “You’re really not upset?” I nodded. Who didn’t have someone they never quite got over? Funny thing was, mine had just come back too. … Lucien remained beside the bed, unmoving. “I’m the Moretti Don. I can’t exactly stand by and let her cause trouble on my turf.” I finally opened my eyes and smiled. “You’ve always been compassionate.” My gaze dropped to the streak of red on his cuff. Vivian’s favorite shade of lipstick. Years ago, when the Sterling family needed to marry one of its daughters into the Moretti family, my half sister Vivian had dropped to her knees in front of me. “Clara, I don’t want to be trapped in some Mafia estate.” “I still want to ride motorcycles. I want to run gun routes. I want to be myself.” “Marry Lucien in my place. Please.” I said yes. Later, I became the Donna of the Moretti family. Vivian remained wild and free. But after our marriage, Lucien went to see her every night at a private house in the suburbs. There, they lived like a real couple, free and unrestrained. And I stayed behind in the heavily guarded Moretti estate. Lucien reached for me. I turned my face away. His hand froze in midair. A moment later, he pulled a paper bag from his coat pocket. Inside was a rabbit-shaped caramel, already half melted out of shape. “Saw it on the way back.” “The medicine tastes bitter.” “Have something sweet.” I stared at the misshapen candy rabbit, unsure what I was supposed to feel. Years ago, when I told him I liked sweets from street vendors, he said food sold outside was filthy. “The Moretti Donna shouldn’t stuff herself with candy like a little girl.” And now he had actually remembered to buy me something sweet. I didn’t take it. “Thank you, Lucien.” Lucien frowned. “Clara, I brought this back for you myself, and you’re still giving me that look?” “Are you still upset about Vivian and me?” Of course I had been upset once. On our wedding night, Vivian sent someone to the estate saying she was about to take on a small crew that had betrayed the Morettis all by herself. Lucien had just taken off his suit jacket. The moment he heard her name, he stood up. I asked, “Do you really have to go now?” He said, “You know what she’s like. She’s never been afraid of anything.” “If no one stops her, she’ll walk into that warehouse with a gun tonight.” He didn’t come back until dawn. There was a faint red mark on his neck. He said Vivian had fought him when he tried to bring her back and had scratched the wrong person in the struggle. I had made scenes. I had cried. Eventually, I stopped asking. Lucien was about to explain again when a guard’s voice came from outside the door. “Don, someone just came from Miss Sterling’s place.” “She slipped her security detail and left word that she’s heading to the docks tonight to settle things with the crew that crossed into our territory and stole our shipment.” Lucien’s expression changed. I closed my eyes again. “Go.” He didn’t move. I added, “If she really charges into the docks, you’ll blame me tomorrow for keeping you here.” Lucien’s voice hardened. “Clara, do you have to be this sarcastic?” I said nothing. A dull heaviness pulled at my lower abdomen. I frowned and endured it. There was no point telling him. He wouldn’t care anyway. In the end, Lucien still left. Before he went, he tossed one last sentence over his shoulder. “Get some rest. Stop using your health to punish me.” The door closed. Then came three soft taps against the window. An old silver ring slid through the narrow gap in the frame. A single letter was engraved on the inside of the band. V. Heat rushed behind my eyes. My heart began to pound. Vale. Beneath the ring was a small note. Only one line was written on it. “Clara, if no one in the Moretti family will protect you, I will.” Three years ago, the man I loved most, Adrian Vale, had supposedly died in a shootout along a smuggling route in the north. No body had ever been found. If this ring was here, then he wasn’t dead. My hands trembling, I hid the ring beneath my pillow.

Vivian came to the Moretti estate early the next morning. The moment she stepped into the main hall, she frowned. “Clara, this place is still suffocating.” She looked around, then laughed. “If I stayed here for three days, I’d probably forget how to hold a gun.” I leaned back on the sofa and said nothing. Lucien had come in with her. He was still wearing the same black suit jacket, which meant he had probably left a family meeting and personally gone to the gate to pick her up. Vivian crossed the room in a few quick steps. “Oh my God. Why do you look so pale?” Then, as if she had only just remembered herself, she touched a hand to her mouth. “Listen to me. I’ve spent too much time out there. I say whatever comes into my head.” “You’ve been the Donna for so many years. All those rules, all those responsibilities… I guess it’s only natural you’d look tired.” “I took medicine,” I said. “That’ll do it.” Lucien’s expression shifted. Vivian blinked. “The birth control pill?” “I only said that if Clara had a baby, Lucien would never come out and spend time with me anymore.” “I didn’t think he’d actually have the doctor send you one.” She lowered her gaze, her voice softening. “Clara, you’re not mad at me, are you?” I shook my head. “There’s nothing to be mad about.” She caught Lucien by the sleeve. “See? Clara barely even talks to me now.” “She used to sneak over walls with me and teach me how to ride. If anyone bullied me, she was always the first one to step in.” She laughed, loud and carefree. “Now she’s been the Moretti Donna for so long, it’s like she’s a completely different person.” Lucien frowned. “Clara isn’t well. Stop bothering her.” The words were stern, but his voice had already softened by the time he looked at Vivian. Vivian tipped her face up toward him. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t the Moretti Don.” The hall went still. Then she laughed again. “Then you could come with me to the West Coast. Down to the Mexican border. Up north into the snow.” “No family meetings. None of this endless family business tying you down.” Lucien smiled too. “Vivian, you’re still as wild as ever.” I lowered my eyes. Once, I had been an excellent rider and a crack shot. I was the one who taught Vivian to ride. The first time she ever took apart a gun, my hands had guided hers. Yet somehow, everyone later praised her for being vibrant and free while calling me dull and boring. I had never liked this walled-in estate either. A sudden cramp twisted low in my abdomen. The teacup slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor. Only then did Lucien look at me. “Clara, what’s wrong?” He reached out to steady me. I moved away. “I’m fine.” His face darkened. “Who told you to actually take the birth control?” I looked up at him. “You had the doctor send it. I could hardly refuse.” Lucien went still. Vivian quickly tugged at his arm. “Don’t yell at her. Clara’s been stuck inside this estate too long. She overthinks everything.” “I’m not like that. If something bothers me, I throw a few punches and get over it.” Lucien stared at me, his voice rough. “Clara, you’re allowed to make a scene.” “You used to smash the glass when I told you to take birth control.” “When I tried to give you sedatives, you said they tasted awful and refused to touch them.” “How was I supposed to know you’d actually swallow it this time?” I had almost forgotten that I, too, had once been that alive. Lucien let out a humorless laugh. “You agreed to marry into the Moretti family.” “Now you’re the Donna, enjoying all the wealth and prestige that come with the family, and somehow you act like I’m the one who wronged you.” “A few days ago, Vivian and I went to the relief center in the South District. She saw those children freezing and took off her leather jacket on the spot.” “She said if she owned all the gold and expensive decorations in this estate, she’d sell them for food and medicine.” “And you? You sit here in the main house feeling sorry for yourself.” For one brief second, guilt flashed across Vivian’s face. After all, I was the one who had funded that relief center. I simply hadn’t appeared there in person. I nodded. “You’re right.” Lucien abruptly stood. “I’m tired of looking at you like this.” He took Vivian by the arm and left. The moment the door shut, agony tore through my lower abdomen. Blood ran down my skirt. Mia burst into tears and ran for the doctor. The family physician arrived quickly. After examining me, all the color left his face. “Mrs. Moretti, the bleeding is severe. The baby… I’m sorry. You’ve miscarried.” I nodded. “I understand.” Mia was crying. “Should I get the Don?” I shook my head. “No.” Ten years. This had been my first child. The last thing still tying me to the Moretti estate. Now it was gone. Good.

Three days after the miscarriage, Lucien came to the main house. Several servants followed behind him, carrying jewelry, dresses, and a saddle. I recognized some of the pieces. The black pearl brooch had been pinned to me by the old Mrs. Moretti herself on the day I married into the family. The deep red cashmere wrap was the one Lucien had draped around my shoulders on my birthday. And the saddle had belonged to my favorite chestnut mare. Before I married into the Moretti family, I used to ride her along the trails near the Hudson Valley for hours at a time. Then Lucien decided Mrs. Moretti ought to behave with more dignity and stop thinking about running off alone. Not long after that, the stable keys stopped being given to me. Lucien looked at me, his tone unusually gentle. “Vivian is moving into the estate in a few days. I’m giving these to her first.” I nodded. “All right.” “She’s used to living on her own terms. A lot of things here don’t suit her.” “All right.” “She likes that horse.” “All right.” He stared at me for a long time, then suddenly smiled. “And Vivian agreed.” “She’s willing to stay with me openly now.” I nodded. “Congratulations.” Lucien seemed to be waiting for me to lose my temper. To question him. To sweep every tray in front of me onto the floor. Instead, I said calmly, “I suppose all of New York will know how important she is to you soon enough.” The smile in his eyes faded. At last, he said only, “Get some rest.” After he left, two servants whispered in the hallway. “Miss Sterling really is something. The Don doesn’t even care about the family’s old rules when it comes to her.” “I heard he’s holding a huge celebration for her at the private estate in the Hudson Valley. After that, who would dare call her some mistress he keeps hidden away?” The other servant lowered her voice. “You know, Mrs. Moretti used to love going out too.” “But after she married him, the Don kept saying she didn’t act like a Moretti wife. He barely let her go anywhere.” She paused. “Now Miss Sterling does the exact same things, and suddenly he thinks it’s charming.” I lay there staring at the ceiling. The celebration would be in the Hudson Valley. Not at the Moretti estate. Which meant I would finally have a chance to leave. I called Mia over. “On the day of the celebration, get me something easy to move in.” Her eyes immediately reddened. “Mrs. Moretti… are you finally going to fight for him?” I nodded. “Yes.” Let them believe that. I didn’t want Lucien to turn back to me. I wanted to disappear from this estate that day. And from Lucien’s world. A maid was checking the measurements for my dress when Lucien walked in. He came over and adjusted my cuff. “This color suits you.” Footsteps sounded outside. Vivian stood in the doorway. Her gaze swept through the room before settling on me. She smiled. “The Moretti estate really is nice. Lucien said I could choose any room I wanted.” She laughed softly. “I don’t like most of the others.” “Clara’s is the only one that actually feels comfortable.” The maid’s expression shifted. Vivian seemed to realize only then how that sounded. She turned to Lucien. “I’m not trying to take Clara’s things.” “If it’s inconvenient, forget it. I can sleep in the stables.” Lucien was silent for a moment before looking at me. “Clara, Vivian won’t be staying in the main house often. Maybe…” I smiled. “Fine.” “She can have the room.” Both of them froze. I looked down and smoothed my cuff. “I’ll move out after the celebration.” I was leaving anyway. The room no longer mattered.

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My husband stole my flower shop dream and gave it to his mistress to open. She pointed at my design sketch and bragged: “My husband drew this for me himself. He said I deserved everything.” The husband she was talking about was mine—Dante Moretti, the most dangerous Don in Chicago. Three years ago, when I told him I wanted to open a flower shop, all Dante said was, “Don’t embarrass me with your little-girl fantasies.” Turns out the flower shop wasn’t the embarrassment. I was the one who didn’t deserve it. Later, Dante publicly announced she was his real wife, and forced me—pregnant—to admit I was some deranged nanny, and to apologize to her. I did it. Then I signed the divorce papers, terminated the pregnancy, and left Chicago. Dante thought I was just angry. He was wrong. This time, I wasn’t coming back. … The bell above the flower shop door chimed. Mia hurried forward, beaming. “My husband sent someone to pick up the flowers!” I followed her gaze— It was Carlo. Dante’s most trusted man. The moment Carlo saw me, the color drained from his face. “Donna…” Mia noticed nothing. She reached under the counter and lifted out a dark green velvet box. “Carlo, perfect timing. Can you give this back to Dante for me? He pushed it on me last night, but it’s just too expensive. I can’t accept it.” Carlo reached for it. His hand was trembling. So was mine. Because I recognized that box. Inside was a diamond necklace—the one Dante had flown to Geneva last week to bid on at auction. Our fifth wedding anniversary was only days away. I’d thought it was meant for me. I’d been looking forward to it. How pathetic. “He came so late last night, though,” Mia pouted. “Said something had held him up.” Last night was my birthday. I’d waited for Dante all evening. All I got was one text: “Something’s come up at the club. Don’t wait up. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” Turns out the thing that had “held him up”—was me. On Dante Moretti’s schedule, his wife had been filed under “delays.” If I hadn’t wandered into this flower shop by chance, how much longer would I have gone on living inside this lie? I forced myself to stay calm and told myself it was time to leave. But as I turned, my eyes caught the wall inside the shop—a hand-drawn sketch, framed in warm white. A vine-covered archway. A rose-lined window. An old piano. In the bottom right corner, a ginger cat dozing in a flower basket. My feet froze. Three years ago, one winter afternoon, I’d curled up on the couch and spent hours drawing the flower shop of my dreams. Then I brought it to Dante. “Someday, if I get the chance, I want to open a shop just like this.” He’d barely glanced at it. “You’re the Donna of the Moretti family, not some girl with her head in the clouds. Stop wasting your time on this nonsense.” He’d rolled up the sketch and tossed it into a drawer in his study. Later, the sketch disappeared. Dante said someone had thrown it out as scrap paper while cleaning up the study. That evening, he had Carlo send over a bouquet as an apology. “It’s gone. It was just a piece of paper.” I tried to draw it again afterward, but I could never quite recapture the feeling of that first one. For three years, I’d believed it had really been thrown away. It hadn’t. It had been framed and hung on Mia’s wall. No wonder this place had felt so strangely familiar. Dante had followed my blueprint—stroke by stroke—and built another woman’s dream instead. “Do you like it, ma’am?” Mia’s eyes crinkled with delight. “My husband drew it for me himself. Isn’t he amazing?” “Next time, I’m going to ask him to draw my favorite—lilies. Roses are so tacky…” Her husband. Drawn by his own hand. Dante had stolen my dream, signed his own name to it, and given it to his other wife. He’d said a flower shop would make the Morettis a laughingstock. He’d wanted me quiet. Presentable. Useful. I held things together at The Velvet Room for him, managed the old guard, cleaned up every mess. But the moment I spoke a word out of turn, he’d remind me in front of everyone: “Elena, all you need to do is be a good wife.” Turns out, all along, he’d been doing just one thing: Snuffing out my light—so he could use it to shine on someone else. The reason he’d crushed me and the gift he’d given her were, quite literally, the same piece of paper. A cold went through me. As I stepped out of the shop, Carlo followed. “Donna, I—” I didn’t look at him. I was only thinking one thing. What was stolen from me—it’s time I took it back.

At the family meeting the next day, I finished my report on the previous night’s incident at the casino. What could have turned into a full-blown shootout, I’d shut down. No gunfire. No blood. It was the cleanest job I’d handled since becoming a Moretti. Dante knew that. Then, without warning, Dante shoved the ledger across the table and lit a cigar. “This is what happens when you let a woman get involved in the business.” “Just because nothing blew up doesn’t mean she did the right thing. Letting my wife clean up my mess sends a message to Chicago: that Dante Moretti can’t even hold his own turf.” He never once looked at me. In a room of more than twenty men, all I could hear was my own breathing. “A woman should learn how to be a good wife—not give orders on behalf of her man. Elena, you need to understand that.” “As for the one with the loose mouth—she’ll learn her lesson.” He was telling everyone I’d overstepped, and that someone would pay for my presumption. I knew then—this meeting had no place for me anymore. I walked out of the study and found Grace, the old housemaid, in a corner of the garden. She was crying so quietly she barely dared breathe. Last night, when the casino called the estate, Dante hadn’t been home. So she’d knocked on my door. She wasn’t yet fifty. Her husband was dead. She was raising a son in school on her own, and taking care of a sick mother. An extra ten dollars a month could break her. With a single word, Dante could destroy her life. “Grace, I’ll handle last night. You go home. Spend time with your mother.” I handed her a tissue and tried to keep my voice light. Grace looked up, eyes red-rimmed. “Donna, you were the one who fixed it last night. Why would the Don—” “Don’t.” I gave her a small smile. “Go on home.” After Grace left, I stood there for a long time. I didn’t want to go back to the estate and face Dante, so I went to my mother’s. The living room was full of flowers—lilies, their scent sharp enough to sting. Mom was sitting on the edge of the couch, clutching a tissue. Her nose was red, her eyes swollen. “Where did all these come from?” “Dante ordered them for me. Twice a week.” Her smile was thin. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they? You’ve always loved flowers.” “I’m fine. Don’t stir up trouble with Dante over a few bouquets. I’m fine.” My hands slowly clenched. The last time she’d had a reaction, it was because Dante had filled the house with lilies. She’d toughed it out until she couldn’t breathe, and had to be rushed to the ER by 911. Four days in the hospital. I’d told Dante. He said he’d remember. Turns out the way he “remembered” was to have flowers delivered twice a week. I looked down. Every bouquet had the same little card attached: Mia’s Blooms. The audacity. Dante didn’t remember that my mother had nearly died from a pollen allergy. But he remembered to send business Mia’s way. I threw every one of the bouquets out. That evening, I got back to the estate, pushed open the door—and stopped dead. The whole house was full of flowers. The foyer, the dining table, beside the fireplace—everywhere, the white lilies I hated most. I looked out at the garden. The rose bushes I’d planted with my own hands had been ripped out. In the freshly turned soil, rows upon rows of white lilies stood at attention. Dante came out of his study, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “Do you like it? You said you wanted to wake up to flowers every day.” I had said that. But I’d never imagined every bouquet would come from his other wife. My fingertips started to go numb. He’d torn out the flowers I’d planted myself, and filled my home with Mia’s favorite bloom. He’d turned me into his other wife’s biggest customer—and I was supposed to thank him for the romance. “What is it? You don’t like them?” Dante crossed to me and slid an arm around my waist. He bent to kiss me. In my head, a single image flashed— The vine-covered archway. The rose window. The old piano. Mia’s voice, smiling: “My husband drew this for me himself.” My stomach heaved. I shoved Dante off and clapped a hand over my mouth as I bolted for the bathroom. I threw up until I was crying. Dante followed me in and handed me a warm towel. “Bad food?” I shook my head, bracing myself against the sink, gasping. The face in the mirror was ghost-white. He frowned. Then something seemed to occur to him, and his gaze dropped. “Elena—are you pregnant?”

I’d meant to save the news of the pregnancy for our fifth wedding anniversary. Seven years together. I’d imagined the moment more times than I could count— Sliding the ultrasound across the table, watching him freeze, then break into a smile. Now, in the wake of Dante’s “something’s come up at the club,” and the framed sketch on Mia’s wall, that “surprise” had turned into a punchline. Dante looked at the report. He was pleased. He helped me up from the bathroom floor and crouched, pressing his cheek against my stomach. “I was too harsh at the meeting.” “It won’t happen again. You just focus on the baby.” He also said he’d make it up to me publicly, in front of everyone. On the night of our anniversary, I put on the cashmere coat I’d worn the first time I met Dante, clasped on the jewelry set he’d given me at our wedding, and arrived at the private ballroom. Dante had spared no expense for our fifth anniversary dinner. But my blood was turning colder by the second. The entire room was drowning in white lilies—the long table, the fireplace, the flower wall behind the head seats—all white, the scent so thick I could barely breathe. Beside my place setting sat a dark green velvet box. The diamond necklace. The very thing Mia hadn’t dared accept had become Dante’s anniversary gift to me. A few of the wives were murmuring not far off. “Donna Moretti has such unusual taste. For a second I thought I’d wandered into someone’s wake.” “Mia’s Blooms again. Every Moretti event lately. You don’t suppose the owner is the Don’s mistress, do you?” “If I were her, I certainly wouldn’t be smiling…” But I did. I smiled. I just kept smiling—until my eyes began to burn. My fifth wedding anniversary with Dante—every flower, every gift—belonged to another woman. I didn’t wait for Dante to arrive. I stood up and walked out. I went to Mia’s Blooms. Mia was behind the counter looking over some sketches. When she saw me, she set down her pen and hurried over. “Ma’am, perfect timing! My husband said he’s opening a second location for me. Soon all of Chicago will know Mia’s Blooms!” Her face was radiant with joy. I said nothing. I walked to the wall and stared at the framed sketch. “Are you planning to steal someone else’s design for the second one too?” Mia went still. “What?” “This drawing—I spent an entire afternoon on it, three winters ago.” I turned to face her. “The cat in the bottom right corner? He was mine as a child. I lost him when I was eight. I put him in the sketch on purpose.” “You said roses were tacky. So why the rose window?” Mia’s face went white. “You know I’m his wife.” My voice was calm. “You know the money for this shop came from my husband. You know that’s my drawing on your wall. You know this shop was my dream. And still, you had the nerve to call my husband yours.” A woman in the shop hurled her bouquet to the floor. “A shop opened by the mistress? That’s disgusting.” Half a dozen phones went up at once. Mia stumbled backward, knocking over a flower stand. Glass shattered across the floor. “Please, stop filming, please…” She crouched down amid the broken flowers and shards of glass, her voice shaking. Suddenly, I found the whole thing unbearably pointless. I was turning to leave when Dante burst in. Smack. The hand with the wedding ring struck me hard across the face. I staggered back, crashing into a flower stand behind me. Broken glass drove into my palm. Blood welled up fast. A sharp pain shot through my lower abdomen. The color drained from my face. Dante didn’t look at me. He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around Mia, pulling her against his chest, murmuring gently. “It’s all right. I’m here. No one’s going to touch you.” Once Mia was calm, Dante came over and crouched down in front of me. On the surface, it looked like he was inspecting the wound. What he said was: “Apologize to Mia. Then we can put this behind us.” I clutched my bleeding hand, staring at him in disbelief. “Dante—have you lost your mind?” “You’re carrying a child.” His voice was low, meant only for my ears. “Don’t blow this up.” Cold flooded through me. “And if I don’t apologize?” Dante looked at me. His tone was terrifyingly even. “Suit yourself. But tonight, Grace disappears from the estate. Her life is over.” “Elena. You know I can do it.”

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Prologue On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé decided I was too conservative and boring, and cheated on me with an A-list actress. He was certain I loved him so desperately that I would never escape his grasp in this lifetime. He even told me to give up our wedding to his new love. What he didn’t know was that at that very same wedding, I married the older brother he feared and respected most—Alexander Foster. Sylvia Bennett’s POV There wasn’t a single person in Los Angeles who didn’t know that Zachary Foster loved me to death. When I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. Hematology experts across the country were helpless. Even my parents had started secretly looking at cemetery plots. But Zachary refused to give up. He had the Foster family use every connection they had, chartered a plane to bring in a team of top specialists from Europe, and dragged me back from the gates of hell. In half a month, we were supposed to get married. Today was the day I was promoted to Chief Attending Cardiothoracic Surgeon. A double blessing. A chief attending physician at twenty-eight—the youngest in the entire state. Zachary said he would celebrate for me at a private club tonight and told me to get there early. But in the afternoon, an emergency surgery came in at the last minute. By the time I left the operating room, it was almost seven. Holding back my exhaustion, I rushed to the private club without daring to waste even a second. When I reached the door of the private room, it was slightly ajar, not fully closed. Laughter and chatter, mixed with the smell of alcohol, spilled out from inside. I reached out to push the door open, only to hear my own name. “Good thing Sylvia Bennett had surgery and got held up. Otherwise, Yvonne would’ve been exposed today.” My hand froze on the doorknob. “Exactly. Yvonne has way too much guts. Zachary threw this promotion dinner for Sylvia Bennett, and she still dared to show up. She’s an A-list actress—doesn’t she worry about getting photographed and ending up on the trending topics?” “If she weren’t bold, would she have been able to steal Zachary away?” A burst of laughter exploded. “Speaking of which, how are Zachary and Yvonne still not done? It’s been two hours!” “What’s the rush? Zachary is that intense, and Yvonne is wild and knows exactly how to flirt. Isn’t it normal for her to get him going a few more rounds?” “But Zachary really has guts. Going at it hot and heavy in the private room next door, and he’s not afraid Sylvia Bennett might suddenly show up.” “What’s there to be afraid of? Sylvia Bennett trusts Zachary so much, she’d never even think in that direction. Last time Zachary went to see a movie with Sylvia Bennett, Yvonne was sitting on Zachary’s other side. Zachary used one hand right there and made Yvonne cry, and Sylvia Bennett didn’t notice a thing.” I stood outside the door, cold from head to toe. So that was how it was. These past few months, he had said every few days that the company had a project, that he had to work overtime, that he wouldn’t be home all night. In the middle of dates, a single phone call would summon him away. Last month, I came back from a business trip. My flight landed in the early hours of the morning, in a downpour. He had said he would come pick me up. He was almost there when he messaged me, saying there was an urgent matter at the company and telling me to take a cab myself. I dragged my suitcase and waited in the storm for forty minutes for a car, still feeling sorry that he was working so hard. So there had been no urgent matter at the company. So all those late-night emergencies had been happening in his new lover’s bed. And that movie. For the first time in over a decade, he didn’t hold my hand. Halfway through, he went to the restroom twice. After the movie ended, he said something had happened at the company and told me to go home first. That night, he didn’t come home either. So the hand that hadn’t held mine had been on the woman beside him. So while I sat on his left watching the movie, he was making another woman cry on his right. The casual conversation in the private room continued. “Sylvia Bennett is such a good person. Isn’t Zachary afraid he’ll drive her away?” “Oh, shut up. With Zachary’s status, what man doesn’t have a few women around him? Zachary finally found someone he likes. Stop saying unlucky things.” “Exactly. Zachary said it himself. Sylvia Bennett is too conservative. After all these years of having sex, she doesn’t even change positions. Who wouldn’t get bored after a while? Yvonne is different. She has all kinds of tricks, she lets loose, and she’s fiery too!” “Enough, enough. We just need to keep our mouths shut. Zachary may be playing around, but anyone can see his love for Sylvia Bennett is carved into his bones. He won’t marry anyone but her.” My ears buzzed, and every sound receded into the distance. It felt as if a hand had grabbed my heart and wrung it hard. Pain spread through my veins and into my limbs. I used to be the most pampered heiress in Los Angeles. Street racing, horse racing—I was flamboyant and reckless, unable to tolerate even a speck of sand in my eyes. When I was eighteen, Bennett Group’s capital chain snapped, and the company collapsed overnight. My father jumped from the top floor of an office building. My mother couldn’t take the blow and suffered a heart attack on the spot. From then on, she was hospitalized for years. Everyone who used to circle around me changed their faces. The snickering at cocktail parties and the mocking remarks in newspapers came down on me from every direction. It was Zachary who announced our engagement at the height of the storm. The red carpet stretched the full length of Chang’an Avenue — a famous central thoroughfare in a historic Chinese downtown district. Blooms lined the three-kilometer stretch from the hotel’s front doors all the way to the church. He brought out the full grandeur of the Foster family, and the entire city was stunned. Holding my hand beneath the crystal chandelier, he said to everyone, “Sylvia Bennett is my fiancée. If anyone dares touch a single hair on her head, they answer to me first.” From that day on, no one dared mock me to my face again. His friends all called me Sylvia Bennett and accepted me. But I knew I was no longer the young lady who could act however she wanted. I tucked away all my edges and my temper, learning to become a flawless, perfect fiancée. At banquets, I knew when to advance and retreat. In front of elders, I was respectful and proper, hiding every emotion behind a poised smile. I thought that was how I could repay him. In the end, not only did he betray me, he also let a group of his friends humiliate me with the most intimate details of our sex life. He disliked that I was conservative. He disliked that I was boring. Then he turned around and held a wild, fiery actress in his arms, having sex with her next door to the promotion dinner he had thrown for me. My blood burned from my chest all the way to the top of my head. If he looked down on me like this, then I didn’t need to keep pretending anymore. I turned around and walked, step by step, toward the private room next door. I pushed the door open. On the sofa, a woman lay pinned underneath, completely naked. The man’s shirt was open, his suit pants hanging loosely on his hips. Broad shoulders, narrow waist—his hips moved deep and hard. The woman’s moans were sweet, sticky, and seductive, her legs wrapped around the man’s waist. At the sound of the door opening, the woman shrieked and shrank into the man’s arms. Without even turning his head, the man shielded her, his tone displeased. “No manners. Get out.” I didn’t move. By the light of the wall lamp, I recognized that face. Yvonne Hayes, the actress who had risen to fame the fastest in the past six months. From an unknown D-lister no one could even identify, she had shot all the way up to A-list. Films by acclaimed directors, S-tier variety shows, luxury endorsements—one after another. Her airport candids were on the trending topics every day. The entire internet was guessing who her powerful backer was. Even someone like me, who didn’t care about the entertainment industry, knew her. Now there was no need to guess. Her sugar daddy was currently on top of her. The man noticed I hadn’t left and turned around. The moment he saw me clearly, every trace of color drained from his face. “Sylvia—” I stepped forward and slapped him across the face. The crisp sound exploded in the room, and his face snapped to the side. “Where did this crazy woman come from? How dare you hit Mr. Foster?!” Yvonne screamed, grabbed a wine bottle from the table, and smashed it down toward my head. The bottle shattered. Wine mixed with warm liquid ran down from my temple. “Sylvia!” Zachary cried out, panic in his voice, and hurried toward me. The more he cared about me like that, the more my heart hurt. Without hesitation, I bent down, picked up the longest shard of glass from the floor, and stabbed it back toward Yvonne’s neck. The shard snapped the diamond necklace around her neck and cut a gash along the side of her throat. With a clatter, the necklace scattered all over the floor. Yvonne was terrified out of her mind, screaming as she stumbled backward again and again. “Sylvia Bennett! Are you insane?!” Zachary seized the shard in one grip. The glass dug deep into his palm, and blood instantly gushed out. He didn’t even look at his own hand. His eyes were only on Yvonne. “Yvonne, are you okay? Let me see the wound.” Then he swung his arm hard and flung me away. I staggered and fell to the floor, my palms landing on shards of glass scattered everywhere. Blood poured out. Zachary grabbed some clothes and wrapped them around Yvonne, then lifted her into his arms. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” Holding her, he strode away without looking at me again. The private room fell silent. I sat on the floor, staring at my mangled palms. Blood from my forehead dripped onto the carpet one drop at a time, and my head felt heavy and dazed. I remembered the year I interned in college. In the lab, a needle pricked my skin, and a tiny bead of blood appeared on my fingertip. Zachary’s face turned white. Without a word, he dragged me to the hospital and insisted the doctor give me a full set of tests. The doctor on duty stared at the pinprick-sized wound on my finger and held back for a long time without daring to roll his eyes. That was the kind of person he was. If I shed even one drop of blood, his heart would ache like crazy. It was still the same now. Only the person whose pain he felt sorry for had changed. I casually wiped the blood from my face and hands and walked out of the private room. I knew very well that one thing that group of people had said was true. Zachary would marry no one but me. He had told me countless times, Sylvia, in this life, you can only marry me. Aside from me, no one else will do. In high school, a boy handed me a love letter. The next day, that boy transferred schools and never appeared in Los Angeles again. The year I went abroad for an exchange program, Zachary flew more than ten hours every week to see me, saying he couldn’t sleep if he went a day without seeing me. He once said that even if I ran to the ends of the earth, he would chase me back. He would not let me go. Besides, the wedding was in half a month. The invitations had been sent all over Los Angeles. The hotel, the wedding attire, the officiant—everything was ready. The Foster family would never allow me to call off the wedding and drag the Foster family’s reputation through the mud. I drove straight to the Foster family estate. “Grandpa.” I entered the study of Zachary Foster’s grandfather, Richard Foster, and knelt down without hesitation. “Sylvia? What happened to you? Who hurt you?” “Grandpa.” I knelt with my back straight and looked up at him. “I don’t want to marry Zachary Foster anymore.” Richard Foster stared at me for a long while, his brows knitting tightly. “Nonsense!” His face darkened. “The invitations went out three months ago, and now you’re telling me you won’t marry him? Where does that leave the Foster family’s reputation?” “I watched you grow up. You are the granddaughter-in-law I chose. No matter how wronged you’ve been, Grandpa will stand up for you. But the wedding cannot be changed.” “Grandpa, you’ve misunderstood.” I shook my head. “The wedding will go on as planned. The invitations don’t need to be changed, and neither does the date.” Richard Foster frowned at me. “Then what do you mean?” I looked straight into his eyes and said, word by word, “I just want to ask you to help me find out whether Alexander Foster is willing to marry me.”

Sylvia Bennett’s POV Unexpectedly, Richard Foster did not lose his temper. He looked at me with a complicated expression for a while, then called in the butler and gave a few low instructions. The butler stepped out to make a call and returned in less than ten minutes. “Mr. Foster, Mr. Alexander Foster has replied. He said that in half a month, he will return on time to attend the wedding.” Richard Foster let out a long sigh. “I have heard a little about Zach causing trouble outside lately.” He looked at me, his brows furrowed. “But the two of you have been together for twelve years, after all. Sylvia, have you really thought this through? You don’t want him anymore?” “Grandpa, you know I’ve never been a magnanimous person.” I knelt upright. “Since he has fallen for someone else, I can’t pretend nothing happened and spend the rest of my life with him. I might as well let them have each other.” Richard Foster was silent for a moment, then waved his hand. “I think that bastard is just confused for the moment. But since you’ve made up your mind, I won’t stop you. I’m an old bag of bones. I can’t control you young people anymore.” “Thank you, Grandpa.” After returning to the apartment, I opened my laptop. Doctors Without Borders and the hospital were cooperating on an overseas medical aid team, and they were recruiting doctors. The station was in North Africa, in an area of long-term armed conflict. Alexander Foster was there at this very moment, commanding a peacekeeping mission. The departure date happened to be the afternoon of the wedding day. For me, the timing was perfect. I filled out the application form and clicked send. Then I started packing. Everywhere in this villa, there were traces of the life Zachary and I had shared. We got together when we were sixteen. It had been exactly twelve years. He had followed behind me since elementary school. Even when I thought he was annoying, he refused to leave. When we were sixteen, I agreed to be with him. He was so happy he ran three laps around the school field. When he came back, his head was covered in sweat, and he hadn’t even caught his breath before asking me, “Sylvia Bennett, you’re not allowed to take it back, okay?” Later, something happened to my family, and the entire world changed. But he did not. When everyone was watching me like I was a joke, he gave me an engagement party that made me the talk of the city. During that time, my mother was seriously ill and hospitalized. He gave money, effort, and resources. Every morning, he drove me to the hospital. At night, he picked me up and brought me home. I broke down crying in the hospital corridor, crouching on the floor and sobbing so hard I couldn’t stand. He crouched beside me and wrapped me in his coat. He said, Sylvia, if the sky falls, I’ll hold it up for you. But I was afraid people would laugh at him for marrying a fallen heiress. I was afraid I wasn’t good enough for him. I was afraid I would become a burden to him. He propped up the entire sky for me, and the only thing I could do was not drag him down. So I studied while taking licensing exams. At twenty-four, I obtained my medical license. At twenty-six, I became an attending physician. At twenty-eight, I was promoted to chief attending physician. I thought we would keep walking forward like that forever. It turned out we wouldn’t. How had such a wonderful Zachary changed? I packed only one suitcase, with a few everyday clothes and the things I used most often. For the rest, anything that could be donated would be handled by the butler, who would contact a charity. Anything that couldn’t be donated would be thrown out. By the time I finished packing everything, it was already late at night. I lay in bed, my whole body feeling as if all strength had been drained from it. The wound on my temple throbbed. At last, I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. They soaked into my pillow. Just as I was about to fall asleep in a haze, someone suddenly grabbed my arm. I was dragged roughly out of bed. Before I even had time to change out of my pajamas, I was shoved into a car. The cold air inside the car snapped me awake. Zachary sat beside me, the pressure around him heavy and low. “Yvonne was hurt because of you. She lost blood. You’re going to donate blood for her.” I froze, then laughed despite myself. “Zachary Foster, I’m a doctor. That little cut on her neck should have stopped bleeding before she even got to the hospital. And you want me to donate blood for her?” He choked on his words and stayed silent for a long while. “Yvonne has a coagulation disorder. Just in case.” I couldn’t be bothered to expose his excuse, full of holes as it was. He sighed, and his tone softened. “Sylvia, where’s your gentleness and generosity? She’s just a young girl who doesn’t know better. She’s only twenty-two. She attacked you earlier because you scared her. Why do you have to hold it against her?” “I’m not holding it against her.” I turned my head and looked at him. “I’m holding it against you. Zachary Foster, you cheated.” His expression froze. After a long time, he turned his face away and looked out the window. “I promise you, no matter what, she will never surpass you.” “In half a month, the person marrying me will be you.” I stared at the side of his face, unable to say a word for a moment. I had caught him cheating on me in the act, yet he believed that as long as he let me take the position of Mrs. Foster, he was giving me the greatest dignity in the world. We arrived at the hospital. He dragged me out of the car, giving me no chance to break free. “She was hurt in your place. You owe her this.” He pulled me all the way into the blood collection room. The doctor on duty recognized me and froze. “Dr… Dr. Bennett?” “Draw her blood,” Zachary said curtly. My arm was pressed onto the blood collection table, and the needle pierced my vein. Dark red blood flowed through the tube and into the blood bag. When it reached four hundred milliliters, the doctor glanced at the blood bag and spoke carefully. “Mr. Foster, four hundred milliliters is already the maximum donation limit. Drawing any more could harm her body—” “Draw more and keep it ready!” Zachary’s expression was terrifyingly dark. “Just in case.”

Sylvia Bennett’s POV Bag after bag of blood was taken away. I watched my own blood flow through the tube and into the plastic bags, and my consciousness started to drift. In the past, when our school organized a blood drive, I was standing in line when Zachary rushed over from nowhere and dragged me straight out of the line. “You’re so tiny. I’d feel awful if you lost even one drop of blood.” Now, for a tiny cut on Yvonne’s neck that didn’t even need a Band-Aid, he pinned me to the blood collection table and kept drawing my blood. A dull swelling started in my abdomen, as if something were sinking downward. Then came a sudden spasm. My face turned white in an instant, and cold sweat seeped from my forehead. A warm, wet sensation spread beneath me. The ceiling before my eyes began to spin, and every sound faded far away. I heard doctors shouting something, nurses running, and someone pressing down on my shoulders. Then I knew nothing. When I woke up again, I was in a hospital room. The doctor sitting by my bed was one of my colleagues. “Dr. Bennett, you’re awake.” He looked at me, his expression complicated. “You’re pregnant. How could you donate that much blood?” I froze. “You didn’t know?” He opened my chart and pointed it out to me. “Eight weeks pregnant. Your hemoglobin was severely low, and with the massive blood loss, it led to…” He didn’t finish the rest. I remembered then. My period really hadn’t come last month. At the time, I thought I was just too exhausted from back-to-back surgeries and didn’t pay attention. “What about the baby?” Marcus Collins looked at me and shook his head. “Mr. Foster will definitely be heartbroken when he finds out,” my colleague sighed. “I’ll notify him to come over—” The young nurse beside him quickly tugged at his sleeve and gave him a look. My colleague’s words stuck in his throat. “Did he come by?” I asked. The two of them exchanged a glance. Neither spoke. “He didn’t, right?” I answered for them. “It’s fine.” I leaned back against the pillow and closed my eyes. “Don’t tell him.” For the next two days, my colleagues took turns coming to see me. They brought meals, sent flowers, covered my rounds, and took meticulous care of me. Zachary Foster never came once. No one mentioned him. On the afternoon of the second day, I was resting with my eyes closed in the ward when the voices of two young nurses drifted in from the hallway. “Mr. Foster has been on the twelfth floor in the VIP ward with that actress the whole time. I heard flowers filled up an entire floor.” “That cut on Yvonne Hayes’s neck didn’t need hospitalization at all. It was just a shallow scratch, and it healed ages ago. Mr. Foster said she’s a celebrity and was afraid of scarring, so he transferred the entire cosmetic dermatology department team over there.” “Isn’t Dr. Bennett Mr. Foster’s fiancée? She’s hospitalized too, and he won’t even come take one look?” “Shh—stop talking. Careful someone hears you.” Their footsteps hurried away. On the third day, I handled my own discharge paperwork. When I passed the fire stairwell, the fire door wasn’t fully shut. Voices came from inside. It was Zachary Foster’s voice, and one of his friends. “Zachary, you’re really not going to check on Sylvia Bennett?” “It’s been days. You haven’t asked about her once. Back then, if she got a splinter in her hand, you acted like the sky was falling.” “No. She’s become too spoiled and domineering.” Zachary’s voice was cold. “She dared to stab someone in the neck with glass. If I don’t temper that temper of hers, what happens next time? I can’t indulge her.” Yvonne smashed a wine bottle against my head, and he thought she was just a young girl, telling me not to hold it against her. When I fought back, I became spoiled and domineering. Someone he couldn’t indulge. “Zachary, what exactly do you think of Yvonne Hayes?” Zachary fell silent for a moment. “Yvonne, that girl… how do I put it?” His tone turned indulgent and infatuated. “I can’t stop. It’s addictive. There’s an energy in her—bold, passionate, fearless. Like Sylvia used to be.” “Sylvia is too boring now. Like a dead pool of water.” He really was good at finding excuses. But I had already become myself again. The same thing, when Yvonne did it, was passionate and charming. When I did it, it was domineering. He despised me for being as dull as stagnant water before. Now that I fought back, he despised me for being spoiled. When someone stopped loving you, everything you did was wrong. “You’re really not afraid Sylvia Bennett will leave?” Zachary let out a mocking laugh. “Where would she go? Everything she has, I gave her. Without me, she’s nothing.” I stood outside the fire door, clenching my fists. They killed my child. I had to do something for my child. After I was discharged, I got the surveillance footage from the private club that day. Zachary had Yvonne pinned down. Yvonne’s face was directly facing the camera. I uploaded the video online. Less than ten minutes after it was posted, the views broke one hundred thousand. #A-list actress explicit video exposed# Because Zachary had his back to the camera, netizens didn’t know it was him. All the firepower focused on Yvonne. [Holy shit, that face is definitely Yvonne Hayes. Way too recognizable!] [Those moves, that level of explicitness… She always acts like such a pure untouchable ice queen, but she’s this wild in private?] [She plays hard! No wonder her resources are so good!] [The guy’s face isn’t shown. Is this some stunt to buy trending topics or what? Disgusting.] Several of Yvonne’s luxury endorsements immediately announced they were suspending cooperation, and production teams held emergency meetings overnight to discuss replacing her. Yvonne’s studio urgently deleted all posts from every social media platform. But only two hours later, the situation took a dramatic turn. Yvonne’s video was scrubbed completely clean. Her studio released a formal statement overnight: [The video circulating online regarding Ms. Yvonne Hayes is purely an AI-generated fake and a malicious defamation of Ms. Yvonne Hayes’s reputation. Ms. Hayes has reported the matter to the police and will pursue legal responsibility against the rumor-mongers.] Public opinion instantly reversed. Yvonne went from the heroine of a scandal to the victim of AI slander. Sympathy came crashing in like a tidal wave, and the attention was even higher than before. At the same time, another high-definition private video landed on the front pages of every major social media platform. The woman in the video was me. Countless netizens flooded my account and the hospital’s account. The comments section was like a sewer gate had been opened. [A doctor plays this wild in private? Tsk, tsk. Take off the white coat and she’s just a slut.] [Who is that with her? Does Mr. Foster know he’s been cheated on?] [Could it be some hospital executive? Did she sleep her way into that title?] [Mr. Foster’s fiancée filming this kind of thing in private. She’s completely ruined the Foster family’s reputation.] My whole body went ice-cold. I knew this video all too well. The person who filmed it was Zachary Foster.

Sylvia Bennett POV All these years we had been together, he had always liked recording things on his phone. I had never wanted to. But he said he could watch them when he missed me, that they would satisfy his cravings, and he promised he would never show them to anyone. I couldn’t bear to refuse him. I never imagined that in order to cover up Yvonne Hayes’s scandal, he would destroy my reputation without hesitation. Back when we attended social events, if any man looked at me one time too many, Zachary would throw him out with a dark expression. Every time we attended a banquet, the gowns he chose for me were always high-necked with long skirts. He said not one inch of his Sylvia’s skin could be seen by anyone else. He wished he could hide me away. Now, he had personally posted my privacy online, letting millions of netizens fantasize about and humiliate me. My phone vibrated like crazy. I didn’t know who had leaked my number. Unknown numbers poured in like snowflakes. The text messages were full of filthy, obscene abuse. Some people even sent pictures of those parts of their bodies. My hands shook so hard I could barely hold my phone. All the blood rushed to my head. I called Zachary. “Zachary Foster, did you release that video?” I gritted my teeth, my whole body trembling. “Yes.” He admitted it cleanly. “Why?” My voice cracked, tears spinning in my eyes. “That was a video of me and you! How could you!” “When you do something wrong, you have to be punished.” His tone was as hard and cold as ice. “When you exposed Yvonne’s video, you should’ve thought about the consequences.” I was so furious I couldn’t speak. He seemed to notice my suppressed breathing, and the coldness in his voice softened a little. “I released that video only to push down Yvonne’s trending topics. Her career is on the rise right now. A scandal like this would affect her too much.” He sighed softly, then began coaxing me as if he were granting me a favor. “Sylvia, be good. Stop making trouble. Netizens are forgetful. In a few days, everyone will forget.” “Forget?” I let out a miserable laugh. “Will you forget? Will I forget?” Before he could speak again, I hung up hard. The next day, I forced myself to go to work at the hospital. As soon as I parked in the garage, I heard two people passing by pointing and whispering about me. “That’s her, right? The youngest chief physician in cardiothoracic surgery?” “Tsk, tsk. She looks so cold and aloof, but she plays that hard in private.” “I heard she’s Mr. Foster’s fiancée too. No idea where she got the nerve to mess around outside.” I tightened my grip on my car keys and walked into the elevator without looking sideways. When I reached the department, the atmosphere was even stranger. Colleagues who usually greeted me warmly now avoided me like I was the plague. I went to the ward for rounds. As soon as I reached the door, I heard the patient’s family members talking inside. “I won’t let her operate on my son! A shameless woman like that is a disgrace to the name of angels in white!” “Exactly! With a private life that messy, I wouldn’t dare put my life in her hands!” The head nurse tried desperately to persuade them. “Dr. Bennett completed a direct bachelor-to-PhD program in cardiothoracic surgery at University A, and she’s also the youngest chief attending physician at our hospital. Her skills are recognized by the entire hospital.” “Oh, please! Who knows how she got that chief position? I demand a different doctor! If you don’t switch doctors, I’ll file a complaint!” I stood at the door, my hands and feet ice-cold. I studied medicine for my mother, and I studied medicine for the Foster family’s dignity. I fought with everything I had to get into the best hospital in the entire state. Back then, Zachary would proudly introduce me to everyone he met. “This is our Dr. Bennett, the best scalpel in cardiothoracic surgery.” Now, he had personally thrown my professional dignity to the ground and crushed it underfoot. Before long, the hospital director called me in. “Sylvia, you know what’s been going on recently. The hospital has received quite a few complaints, and some family members have posted about it online.” He looked troubled, weighing his words. “I saw that you applied for the Doctors Without Borders war-zone medical team. The approval has already gone through, and your departure date is at the end of the month.” “Don’t come in during this period. Rest at home for now. We’ll talk after the attention dies down.” The meaning behind his words was obvious. The public opinion storm around me had already seriously affected the hospital’s normal operations and reputation. “No need.” I stood up. “Please help me process my resignation. After I return from the war zone, I won’t be coming back to the hospital. You don’t have to be put in a difficult position.” The director hadn’t expected me to be so decisive. He wanted to say something, but in the end, he only let out a long sigh. I returned to the department, packed up my personal belongings, and went straight home. When I pushed open the villa door, the aroma of food hit me. Zachary Foster walked out of the kitchen carrying a plate of food. “Off work? Come eat.” He acted as if nothing had happened, as if the bloody storm online had never existed. “If you can’t stay at the hospital, then come home. It’s not like I can’t support you.” He said it casually. I stood in the living room, motionless, staring at him. When he saw I wasn’t moving, his brows furrowed slightly. “I know you felt wronged yesterday. But you were the one who did something wrong first. You provoked Yvonne first. This is the lesson you deserved.” His matter-of-fact tone finally shattered my last line of defense. I strode over, raised my hand, and slapped him hard across the face. Before he could react, I grabbed the tablecloth and yanked with all my strength. The entire table of food flipped onto the floor. “Sylvia Bennett! Are you insane?” Zachary was stunned by the slap and instinctively stood up, roaring at me. My eyes were red as I stared at him. “Zachary Foster, you destroyed my career!” My voice trembled. “You know why I became a doctor. You know how hard it was for me to get here! For that woman, you want to completely destroy me!” Zachary looked at the tears spinning in my eyes, and only then did he seem to realize the severity of what he had done. Panic and heartache flashed in his eyes. He stepped forward, wanting to grab my arm. “Sylvia, I—” His phone rang abruptly, cutting him off. It was Yvonne. He immediately let go of my arm. The trace of heartache in his eyes quickly faded. When he answered the phone, his voice was so gentle it could drip water. “What? You’re not feeling well? Don’t move, don’t be scared. I’ll be right there!” After hanging up, he didn’t even take his coat before hurrying out. When he passed by me, his steps paused slightly. He glanced at me with a deep frown. “I’ll have Mrs. Watson make you something else to eat in a bit. Stop making trouble.” The front door slammed shut. I stood in the wrecked dining room, feeling as if my heart had been torn apart alive, the pain so intense I couldn’t breathe. I turned and walked to the study, opened the computer, and logged into the cloud album. The full unedited version of the video was stored there. Inside, Zachary Foster’s face had been recorded clearly. I knew that once this video was posted, he would become the one cursed by the entire internet. For exposing his own fiancée’s private video, he would become everyone’s target. But since he didn’t care about me, why should I preserve his dignity? Without the slightest hesitation, I posted the unedited video to every major social media platform. Then I turned off my phone and computer, got into bed, and went to sleep.

Sylvia Bennett POV When I was half-asleep in the middle of the night, I felt as if a mountain were pressing down on me. A familiar scent filled my nose. My eyes flew open. Zachary Foster’s face was dark as he roughly tore at my pajamas. “What are you doing!” I struggled desperately, bending my knee to shove him off. He didn’t dodge or move away. He lowered his head and kissed me. My lips were brutally sealed. The rough kiss was full of punishment, leaving me no room to breathe. My wrists were pinned like they were trapped in iron clamps. I bit down hard. The taste of blood instantly spread through both our mouths. Zachary winced, lifted the back of his hand, and casually wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. Before I could react, he pressed down again. This kiss was even fiercer, even harsher than before. The bloody kiss made me feel suffocated and nauseated. I pounded on his chest and struggled with all my strength. “Zachary Foster, are you insane!” He stopped, bracing his hands on either side of me, looking down at me from above. His eyes were dark and heavy. “I am insane.” “Sylvia Bennett, are you really that cheap? Posting our video for everyone to see?” I trembled with rage and actually laughed. I had never known Zachary Foster could be such a hypocrite. “That’s right! I wanted everyone to see what high-and-mighty Mr. Foster of Los Angeles looks like when he’s in heat!” “It’s not like I’m the only one you’ve ever been in heat for anyway. What’s wrong with letting more people see?” That sentence instantly ignited the fire in his eyes. His face darkened to the extreme. “Fine.” In a few motions, he tore away the last of my clothes, his actions completely merciless. “Since you like having your husband watched so much, then let her watch properly.” My whole body went rigid. “What did you say? Who?” A soft laugh sounded from the bedroom doorway. The lights were suddenly switched on. “Ms. Bennett.” Yvonne leaned against the doorframe, a provocative smile hanging from her lips. “Zach said you’re too boring in bed, like a dead fish, and you can’t get him hard. So he asked me to come teach you.” I couldn’t believe it. The overwhelming humiliation made it impossible to breathe. Zachary Foster had actually brought her into our villa. Into our bedroom. He was letting this woman watch him violate me. I grabbed a book from the nightstand and hurled it toward the doorway with all my strength. “Get out! Get out!” Yvonne turned sideways and dodged. Not only was she unafraid, her smile became even more brazen. “Ms. Bennett, with you acting like such a shrew, how could any man like you?” Yvonne walked to the foot of the bed and watched leisurely. “At a time like this, you should be more proactive. Moan a little sweeter. Then Zach will like you.” Tears slid down uncontrollably, and my whole body shook. “You hear that? Learned it?” Zachary hovered above me, his voice cold. He pressed down again. Pain and humiliation tangled together. I desperately reached toward the nightstand, my fingertips brushing the photo frame. I grabbed the frame and slammed it hard against the wall. The glass shattered. I picked up a shard of glass and pressed it against my neck. “Zachary Foster! If you dare move again, I’ll die right in front of you!” Zachary’s movements instantly froze. His pupils contracted sharply, and uncontrollable panic flashed through his eyes. “Sylvia Bennett, put that down!” “Here Ms. Bennett goes again.” Yvonne let out a scoff beside us. “Crying, throwing a tantrum, then threatening suicide. Ms. Bennett sure is skilled at this routine. Stop pretending.” Zachary’s gaze moved between me and Yvonne. The panic faded, and his expression turned cold and hard again. “Sylvia Bennett, I won’t keep indulging you forever.” I stared fixedly at him. At the coldness on his face. At the way he allowed another woman to humiliate me. I thought I had already hurt so much I had gone numb, but a chill still seeped uncontrollably from the bottom of my heart. “Fine. Then don’t regret it.” My hand tightened around the shard of glass, and I slashed it toward my carotid artery. “Sylvia!” Zachary Foster’s face changed drastically. He grabbed the shard in one swift motion. The sharp glass instantly sliced open his palm. Blood poured out. Like a madman, he wrenched the glass from my hand and flung it away, then clamped his other hand over my neck. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He roared at me, his eyes bloodshot. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him or speak. Zachary stared at the emptiness in my eyes. After a long standoff, he was the first to give in. “Fine.” “You win. Sylvia Bennett, you win!” I still didn’t look at him. “Get out.” I forced the word from my throat. Zachary stared at me for a long time. Then he abruptly got up, threw on his clothes in a mess, and stopped beside Yvonne Hayes. “Let’s go!” Yvonne wanted to say something, but he dragged her out of the room. Their footsteps faded, and the front door slammed shut. The house fell completely silent. That night, I didn’t even have the strength to turn over. Tears flowed into my ears, then onto my pillow. They dried up, then kept falling again. When I woke up the next day, my eyes were so swollen I could barely open them. In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face again and again before I could barely see. I had just changed and opened the bedroom door when I saw Yvonne coming upstairs. I looked at her coldly. “What are you doing here again?” Yvonne walked up to me and shook the set of keys in her hand. “Zach gave me the keys to this villa. He said I can come whenever I want.” She curled her lips and lifted her wrist as if showing off. On her slender, pale wrist was a sparkling diamond bracelet. “Look familiar?” Of course it did. It was a globally limited-edition piece I’d fallen for at a high jewelry show six months ago. Its intricate manufacturing meant I’d been waiting for the brand to finalize its launch schedule. When Zachary accompanied me to the exhibition, he had sworn he would buy it for me the moment it launched. Now it was on Yvonne’s wrist. “I casually mentioned yesterday that this bracelet was pretty, and Zach gave it to me.” Yvonne admired the bracelet, her gaze provocative. “Sylvia Bennett, so what if you grew up with him? So what if you dated him for twelve years? So what if he loves you?” She took a step closer. “All I had to do was crook my finger, and he obediently came to my bed.” “If I can take your bracelet today, I can take your place as Mrs. Foster tomorrow.” I kept looking at her calmly, as if I were watching a clown performing with all her might. When she saw I wasn’t reacting, she actually grew a little anxious. Just then, the sound of the front door opening came from downstairs, followed by familiar footsteps. Zachary was back. Yvonne’s eyes shifted. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She stepped back a few paces, retreating to the edge of the staircase. “Tell me, if I say you pushed me down from here, will Zach believe me or you?” I had seen enough of this fake-fall frame-up routine. Since she was so determined to pin this crime on me, I might as well make it true. Without hesitation, I followed her and kicked her hard. “Ah—!” Yvonne really screamed and tumbled down the stairs.

Sylvia Bennett POV Zachary rushed up from downstairs. “Yvonne!” Yvonne lay at the foot of the stairs, her hands and feet scraped. She lifted her tearful face, her voice weak and considerate. “Zach, I’m fine… I came on my own to try to persuade Ms. Bennett not to be angry with you anymore. It’s all my fault. Don’t blame Ms. Bennett.” Zachary raised his head and looked at me with an icy gaze. “Sylvia Bennett, how can you be so vicious?” he blurted out. “I really regret saving you back then!” Those words were heavier than every slap and insult combined. Zachary had saved me twice. When I was eight, I fell into the artificial lake in the courtyard. Zachary was the one who pulled me out. From that day on, he became the most important person in my life. When I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. By then, the Bennett family was already far less wealthy than before. Other than crying, my parents were helpless. It was Zachary who begged his family to bring in a team of specialists from overseas. After I recovered, it felt only natural that I ended up with him. I thought he was the salvation fate had given me. For him, I was willing to put away all my temper and learn to be a gentle, domestic woman. Without a single complaint. But now, he said he regretted saving me. If I could go back to that day by the lake, to that hospital bed, I would want to say too: I would rather he had never saved me. Zachary carried Yvonne out the front door. I stood on the stairs, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. It hurt, but it was no longer as piercing as it had been the past few days. My heart seemed to be slowly turning cold. Back in my room, I pulled up the hallway surveillance footage. In the video, Yvonne personally admitted she had seduced Zachary and wanted to take my place. “If I can take your bracelet today, I can take your place as Mrs. Foster tomorrow.” I saved the video. My phone rang. It was my best friend, Nina Scott. “Sylvia, what’s going on over there? I saw everything online. Is that bastard Zachary Foster insane?” “I’m fine.” “Don’t be sad, Sylvia. He’s just a man. He’s not worth it! Men are tools. If they work, use them. If they don’t, throw them away. Don’t ever take them too seriously!” “I’m not sad anymore.” I said calmly, “I don’t want him anymore. He’s dirty.” Nina fell silent for a moment, then suddenly got excited. “Sylvia, you finally came to your senses! I’m telling you, ever since you got engaged to Zachary Foster, you’ve been living like a nun. Day after day, all bland and boring. Even I felt suffocated for you!” She suggested excitedly, “Want to come out tonight? Wash off all that bad luck!” “Come out for what?” “Music, alcohol, male models—everything you could want. The wildest place in all of Los Angeles. Are you coming or not?” I looked at my pale, haggard face in the mirror and suddenly smiled. If Zachary could play around with actresses, why couldn’t I go to a nightclub? “Send me the address.” That night, I changed into a red deep-V spaghetti-strap dress. It was the kind of outfit Zachary would never allow me to wear out. I put on full makeup, stepped into four-inch heels, and drove to the address Nina sent me. Nina had booked the largest VIP private room. The moment the private room door opened, deafening music mixed with the smell of alcohol rushed at me. “Take your pick!” Nina winked at me. With a wave of her hand, more than a dozen tall young men with different looks lined up. “They’re all clean. Abs, pretty faces, everything. My treat, babe! If you like one, take him straight home!” I looked around, and my gaze stopped on the quietest boy in the corner. He had a clean, innocent face and sat there obediently, like a college student. “Him.” Taking him home was unnecessary. I only wanted someone to drink and dance with me. The boy immediately came over, skillfully picked up the bottle, and poured me a glass. “Hi, baby. I’m Star.” After a few drinks, the music picked up. I pulled Star to the dance floor. Twelve years. I had forgotten that I had once been a young heiress who could let loose on a dance floor too. With Star leading me, I danced close against him. Star was very considerate and played along perfectly. When we were tired, we returned to the booth. Star obediently picked up the fruit platter, speared a piece of watermelon with a fork, and held it to my lips. “Baby, is it sweet?” “Sweet.” I reached over, took off the diamond bracelet on my wrist, and casually tossed it into Star’s lap. “A reward. Sell it for cash.” Nina leaned over to take a look and dramatically covered her mouth. “Little brother, you’d better know what that is. This thing is worth seven figures!” Star looked at the bracelet in surprise, then at me. I lifted my glass and took a sip. “It’s just trash. Not worth anything.” It was the gift Zachary had given me when we got engaged. Globally limited, extremely valuable. Star’s eyes shone. He hurriedly stuffed the bracelet into his pocket. “Thank you, baby!” He fed me strawberries with even more enthusiasm. I was just about to bite into a strawberry. The private room door was kicked open. Zachary stood in the doorway. He radiated cold fury, his eyes so vicious he looked ready to kill. When he saw the male model’s arm around my waist and my low-cut spaghetti-strap dress, his face instantly darkened to the extreme. He strode over and shoved Star away from me. Star staggered back two steps and muttered unhappily. “Whoa, where did this old man come from? Who are you? Why so aggressive?” Zachary ignored him. With an ashen face, he stared at me, his gaze falling on my empty wrist. “How dare you give it away?” I crossed my legs and leaned against the sofa, tilting my head up to meet his gaze without backing down. “Why can’t I?” “I didn’t say anything when Mr. Foster gave his little mistress a gift. Since when does Mr. Foster get to make demands of me?” Zachary’s breath hitched. He was too choked to speak. That limited-edition bracelet Yvonne had was originally bought for me. But last night, he hadn’t been able to vent with me, and thanks to Yvonne’s diligent efforts, he had gotten his release. Afterward, Yvonne had clung to him and asked for that bracelet. In the heat of the moment, he had casually agreed. A flash of embarrassment crossed his face, but it was quickly swallowed by even stronger anger. “Hand over the bracelet.” He ordered Star. Star clutched his pocket tightly. Not only did he refuse to hand it over, he went full sharp-tongued mode. “Oh, so this is the brother-in-law.” He deliberately drew out his words. “This was a reward from baby. What does it have to do with you?” “It’s just a little trinket, and you actually have the nerve to ask for it back. Baby must have suffered a lot following you, huh?” Not only did Star talk back, he even leaned closer to me and deliberately rested against my shoulder. “Besides, baby likes clean men now.” He blinked his innocent big eyes at Zachary. “Sorry, brother-in-law. I’m not like you. I’m still a virgin.” Nina laughed so hard beside us that she slapped her thigh. Zachary’s face went completely black. The veins at his temple throbbed as he forced himself to hold back his rage. “Get lost!” “I’m not getting lost.” Star had nothing to fear. “Baby hasn’t told me to leave. What right do you have to chase me away? Don’t you know? Out with the old, in with the new. Brother-in-law, you’re old now, and your body probably can’t keep up anymore. Of course baby wants someone young and strong.” “You’re asking for death!” Zachary’s rationality completely snapped. He raised his fist and was about to smash it into Star’s face. I stepped in front of Star. “Zachary Foster, are you insane?” “He’s just an immature boy. He’s only twenty! You scared him just now, so he talked back. Why do you have to take it so seriously?”

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Ethan was a cold man. He was the type who wouldn’t even reply to a text because he thought it was a waste of his precious time. Excitedly, I sent him the trending “Boyfriend Instantly Reports His Day” challenge that was blowing up on TikTok. He only sent back two words: “Grow up.” But that very night, I saw a video posted by his first love, Sienna. The man who never replied to me in seconds was practically spamming her chat with every little detail of his day. “Just got to the office.” “Meeting finished.” “Picking you up tonight. Babe, don’t wear heels. Your feet will hurt.” I stared at the screen, and my mind flashed back to last week. I was rolling on the floor in the ER with acute gastritis, sending him thirty desperate texts for help. He only replied the next afternoon. “I’m busy. Stop exaggerating minor illnesses just to get my attention.” When Ethan finally came home, I was still sitting in the dark on the living room couch. He glanced at my phone screen, sighed with annoyance, and pulled me into his arms. “You saw that? Sienna just got back to the country and feels insecure. I’m just playing along to make her feel safe.” “You’re my girl. You should know what’s real and what’s just a joke.” I looked down and smiled. Yeah. I finally realized that I was the joke.

I pushed his arms away from me. My eyes landed on his phone, which he had tossed on the coffee table without locking. The screen showed a live location-sharing map with Sienna. It had been running for fifteen hours straight. My brain went completely numb. Because of my extreme insecurity in this relationship, I had begged him for a month, with tears in my eyes, to share his location with me. Back then, he had pushed my hand away with disgust and snapped cold words at me. “Chloe, adults need personal space. This kind of stalker-like surveillance only makes me think you have mental issues.” But now, my heart, which had been hanging by a thread for years, finally died. “Ethan, let’s break up.” Ethan followed my gaze to the screen. Realizing I saw the location sharing, his face instantly hardened with self-righteous anger. “Are you seriously throwing a tantrum in the middle of the night?” “Sienna had a traumatic experience abroad. She just got back and doesn’t know her way around. I only turned on the location to keep her safe. Are you seriously going to be petty about this?” “You want security, right? Fine. I’ll add your name to the house deed tomorrow. Is that enough? Stop whining about this childish drama!” “You want to break up? Fine. Have it your way.” “When you drain all that jealous nonsense out of your head and stop acting crazy, we’ll talk.” With that, he marched into the guest room and slammed the door behind him. He didn’t take my breakup seriously at all. To him, I was just using the breakup as a threat to force him to bow down. But he didn’t know that when someone truly decides to leave, they do it in total silence. The next morning. Ethan was fully dressed and blocked me as I was heading out the door. “Alright, are you still playing the drama queen?” “Isn’t today your follow-up appointment for your stomach at the downtown clinic?” “I’m heading that way this morning. I’ll drop you off.” Ethan wanted to use this minor favor to brush last night’s argument under the rug. He was convinced that if he gave me a little sweet treat, I would swallow all my pain. Not long after the car pulled out of our neighborhood, I looked out the window and spoke coldly. “This isn’t the way to the clinic. Where are you going?” Without hesitation, Ethan crossed the double yellow line and headed toward the Rosewood, the most expensive luxury hotel downtown. “To pick up Sienna.” “She had a terrible headache all night. Since you’re going to the clinic anyway, I’ll take her along to get checked out.” I had stayed up all night refreshing the patient portal to book that rare specialist appointment. Yet, he was giving my slot to another woman “along the way.” Because I hadn’t eaten breakfast and the car’s AC was blasting cold air, my stomach began to cramp painfully. I stared silently at the passing streets outside. I didn’t even have the energy to argue with him anymore. When the car parked in front of the clinic, the waiting room was packed. As a software engineer, my high-intensity work had ruined my health. That specialist appointment was a miracle booking. Ethan looked at Sienna, who was leaning weakly against his shoulder, and held out his hand to me. “Give me your appointment confirmation QR code.” I looked up at him. The sharp spasms in my stomach were making me break out in a cold sweat. “This is my specialist appointment.” Ethan took my ice-cold hand and wrapped it in his warm palm. “Sienna just got back. The jet lag and her severe anxiety have kept her crying all night. The doctor said she’s on the verge of a mental breakdown.” “Your stomach pain is bad, but it’s a chronic issue. We have your prescription meds at home. You can just take two pills to suppress it. Can you please just bear with it for once?” When we first got together, his friends used to whisper behind my back. They said Ethan would always keep a place in his heart for his first love who had moved abroad for her dreams. They said no matter how hard I tried, I could never compete with his “white moonlight.” But over the last three years, Ethan had personally wiped away all my doubts. During those three years, he would drive across the city in pouring rain just to pick me up from work. He would stay up all night rubbing my stomach when I had bad cramps. I really thought I had finally replaced her. Seeing me freeze, he leaned down and kissed my forehead gently. “Be good, Chloe. You’re my family. Do this for me, okay?” “Tomorrow, once she’s settled, I’ll cancel all my meetings and spend the whole day with you, I promise.” I clutched the medical card inside my pocket. The sharp edges dug painfully into my fingers. My mind suddenly drifted back to the early days of Ethan’s startup. He had worked so hard that he drank himself to stomach bleeding. To get him a specialist appointment, I had lined up in the freezing wind all night. My hands got so frostbitten that night that they still peel every winter. Back then, he had looked at me from his hospital bed with tears in his eyes. “I will never let you suffer again in this life.” Sienna’s eyes welled up with tears, and Ethan’s expression grew impatient. “Give it to me, Chloe. Don’t be unreasonable.” I suddenly loosened my fingers and handed him the card. Ethan smiled, satisfied, and rubbed my hair. “Good girl. I’ll get someone to book another specialist for you next month.” The clinic door shut in my face. I didn’t expect the man inside to look back at me. I popped two painkillers out of my bag and swallowed them dry. The pills tasted incredibly bitter as they scraped down my throat. I whispered in my heart: “Ethan, there’s no need for next month. There is no next month for us.” Just as I was about to call an Uber, my phone lit up. It was a Snapchat message from Ethan. “The checkup is done. The doctor says Sienna needs some warm comfort food.” “Come to the Italian restaurant next door. Let’s eat together.”

I pushed open the door to the private dining room. Ethan and Sienna were sitting close together at a round table. Hearing the door, Ethan didn’t even look up. He was carefully pouring warm water for Sienna. “Have a seat. Sienna felt bad about taking your appointment, so she insisted on inviting you.” His tone was casual, like he was throwing a bone to an outsider. The waiter pushed the cart in. “We have a full house today. We only have one portion of our signature truffle pasta left.” The steaming plate of pasta was placed right in the middle of the table. The painkillers were burning my empty stomach. I desperately needed some hot food to coat it. Just as I picked up my fork, Ethan took the plate of pasta and slid it directly in front of Sienna. “Didn’t you already take your painkillers? Just grab a bagel or something.” “Sienna’s body is weak. Don’t act like a child and fight a sick person for food.” He completely ignored my fork, which was frozen in mid-air. Sienna looked at me with a fake, apologetic expression. “Ethan, this isn’t right. Chloe looks so pale, she must be in real pain… Maybe I should just drink some water…” Ethan gave me a look full of annoyance and blame. “Don’t worry about her. I’ve just spoiled her too much lately.” “She writes code all day and eats cold leftovers without a single complaint. She’s tough.” “Now she’s learned to fake being sick just to get attention because she’s jealous.” I pulled my fork back. It clattered weakly against my empty plate. For three years, to make sure he had a hot meal when he came home, I had reheated dinners over and over again, learning to cook everything he liked. But now, in his eyes, my sacrifices meant I was “used to cold food,” and my damaged stomach was just “tough.” Suddenly, Sienna stood up. As she moved, she bumped into a freshly poured cup of hot coffee. The boiling liquid spilled across the rotating table, rushing straight toward me. Ethan immediately pulled Sienna into his arms to shield her. The scalding coffee splashed directly onto the back of my hand. My fork slipped from my grip. My skin instantly turned a violent, blistered red. Only then did Ethan look at my hand. He walked over, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me toward the restroom. Under the sink, cold water rushed over my burned skin. But Ethan’s voice was filled with nothing but irritation. “You’re usually so quick at work. Why were you so slow just now?” “You saw the cup tip over. Couldn’t you have moved out of the way?” The cold water hit the raw burn. I kept my head down and didn’t struggle. I only remembered how, two years ago, I had gotten a tiny blister from cooking for him. He had been so heartbroken that he banned me from doing chores for a month. Now, my skin was peeling from a severe burn, and he was blaming me for not dodging. We had only been rinsing it for ten seconds. Hearing Sienna cough back in the private room, his movements became hurried and careless. “Go buy some burn cream at the pharmacy later. Don’t let it scar.” I slowly pulled my hand out of his grip. “No need to rinse anymore.” “I don’t feel the pain anyway.” Ethan didn’t realize how much he had changed. He didn’t think he was being biased. Instead, he took our three years of history for granted. He thought our love was so unshakable that he could freely give his attention and care to another fragile woman. He believed that no matter how much he hurt me, I would never leave him. Back in the dining room, I turned around and walked straight toward the exit. Ethan called out to me, his voice sharp with displeasure. “Where are you going? The food’s barely touched. What kind of tantrum is this?” I didn’t turn back. I just placed my hand on the door handle. “The office has an emergency system bug to fix. I have to go.” “Enjoy your meal.” The moment the door closed behind me, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Hi, Mrs. Gable. The old suburban apartment you mentioned last time… Can we sign the lease today?”

The city bus rattled down the bumpy road. This place was far from the bustling downtown. I met Mrs. Gable at the end of a quiet alley. Without any bargaining, I quickly signed the lease and paid six months of rent upfront. Right after, I submitted my request to transfer to our company’s remote branch. By evening, the weather turned violent. A sudden thunderstorm hit the city. Street water quickly rose to my ankles, and all bus lines were suspended. I opened my rideshare app. There were over three hundred people ahead of me in the queue. I stood shivering under the awning of a closed grocery store, the burn on my hand throbbing in the freezing wind. Just then, Ethan’s black Maybach slowly pulled up across the street, right in front of a trendy dessert shop. I thought he had tracked my location and came to pick me up. I was about to open my umbrella and walk over, but then the car door shut loudly. Ethan got out, ran into the shop, bought several boxes of luxury pastries, and ran back to the car. My phone rang at that exact moment. “Chloe, are you still stuck in the rain? Find a Starbucks to dry off.” “Sienna has been terrified of thunder since she was a kid. The noise just now made her turn pale.” “The traffic here is horrible. I can’t make a detour to pick you up. Find your own way back, okay?” “Don’t be childish and overthink this. I’ll make you something good when I get home.” The call cut off. I watched the luxury car make a U-turn, splashing muddy water everywhere as it sped away. I remembered when he couldn’t even afford a used car, and we got caught in a storm like this. He didn’t have an umbrella back then. Without hesitation, he took off his only jacket and held it over my head. He had held me tight as we ran through the downpour. Even though he was soaked to the bone, he smiled and kissed my forehead. “How could I let my girl get rained on and catch a cold?” Now, his luxury car had heated seats and warm drinks, but there was no longer a place for me. Unable to get a ride, I walked through the howling storm for three hours. When I finally pushed open the door of our villa, I was drenched and shivering. Dragging my numb legs, I went straight to the closet to pack my oldest belongings. Since I had decided to disappear, I wouldn’t leave a single trace behind. As soon as I taped up the last box, Sienna posted a short video on Snapchat. Ethan was holding a soft towel, gently drying her hair. Someone in their friend group chat commented: “Is Mr. Vance rekindling his old flame? Settling down for real this time?” He didn’t reply. In their circle, silence was basically confirmation. I stared at the video for three seconds. Ever since Sienna came back, the constant anxiety and fear of losing him that had plagued my heart suddenly vanished. It was completely quiet now. I no longer wanted to try those trending couples’ challenges, nor did I crave his instant replies. He had personally crushed my sense of security and handed it all to someone else. But none of that mattered anymore. The Ethan who used to kiss my forehead in the rain had died long ago in the passage of these three years. My phone screen lit up again with an email notification. “Your transfer request to the remote branch has been approved. Please complete your hand-off within three days and report to your new office.”

I developed a high fever. The cold rain and the infected burn on my hand made my body burn like fire. Inside the walk-in closet, I didn’t touch any of the expensive dresses or jewelry he had bought without even knowing my size. At 8:00 PM, the electronic lock on the front door beeped. I thought Ethan wouldn’t come back, but he did—and he brought Sienna with him. He looked up and saw the cardboard boxes stacked in the living room. “Sienna’s hotel is having an electrical maintenance outage, and she’s afraid of the dark.” “The guest room has been empty anyway. I brought her here to stay for a couple of nights.” “Why are you packing boxes in the living room?” Before I could answer, Ethan noticed my pale face. Ignoring my resistance, he pulled me into his arms from behind. “Stop acting up.” “She’s only staying for two nights. You’ve been with me for three years. You’re the sensible one.” “Don’t act like a petty little girl. Be mature.” He was so sure that I loved him to death, convinced that this was just my way of begging for his attention. I didn’t struggle. I let him hold me, my eyes looking past his shoulder, coldly staring at my own reflection in the window. Sienna walked around the living room. Her eyes landed on a small ornament hanging by the sink. It was a silver protection charm. Two years ago, I had walked up the steps of the cathedral, kneeling at every step, to pray for it. Sienna picked it up and toyed with it. “Ethan, this little thing is so unique.” Two years ago, Ethan had a high fever that wouldn’t break for a week, despite all the meds. Desperate, I had braved a massive blizzard alone to get this charm from the cathedral. At that time, Ethan kept the charm pressed against his chest like a priceless treasure, refusing to take it off even when showering. He had sworn that I had risked my life to get it for him, that it was more precious than his own life, and no one was allowed to touch it. But now, Sienna was casually playing with it. “I actually need a charm for my bag. Can I have this?” Ethan let her play with the item he once valued more than his life, not seeing anything wrong with it. “It’s just a cheap trinket. Take it if you want.” “I’ll have my secretary buy you a nice Chanel bag charm from the mall later.” In his eyes, I had already passed the age of needing to be carefully cherished. He took it for granted that because I had stood by him through the hard times, I should be the mature, understanding, and obedient pushover. I snatched the charm out of Sienna’s hand. Sienna gasped and took a step back. “Why are you being so stingy?” I didn’t even look at her. “You’re right. A piece of cheap trash doesn’t deserve to be a charm.” Ethan’s face instantly darkened, but Sienna quickly grabbed his arm. “It’s fine, Ethan. Don’t be mad.” “You have to accompany me to the medical equipment expo tomorrow morning. It’s a busy schedule.” She was intentionally marking her territory for tomorrow. Ethan gave me a cold look. “Calm yourself down tonight. We’ll talk later.” With that, he led Sienna up to the second-floor guest room. Just then, my phone buzzed continuously. It was an urgent text from the moving company. “Miss Miller, the weather bureau just issued a red alert. The hurricane will make landfall early tomorrow morning.” “All of tomorrow’s orders are canceled.” “If you are sure you want to move tonight, our truck will arrive at your back gate in ten minutes.” “It’s now or never. Can you leave right now?” I looked up at the tightly shut guest room door on the second floor. The warm light spilling from under the door stung my eyes. He was probably coddling his “insecure” first love right now. For the past few years, I had stared at empty chat screens, waiting for his care and affection, looking like a pathetic joke. Now, the storm was coming, but the man who was supposed to be my shelter had already put his umbrella over someone else. Since I could never get a reply, I would cut the last thread of hope myself. Without hesitation, I typed back and hit send. “I can leave right now.”

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Five years into my marriage with Sebastian Sterling, both I and his mistress, Hailey Miller, got pregnant at the same time. A psychic hired by his family predicted that whoever gave birth to a son first would inherit the entire Sterling empire’s trust. But on the day I went into labor, the chauffeur drove me to the hospital entrance, only to lock the doors. He refused to let me out. “I’m sorry, Chloe. Hailey’s water just broke, too,” the driver said, refusing to look me in the eye. “Mr. Sterling said Hailey must deliver her baby first before I can let you into the hospital.” They confiscated my phone. They left me screaming in agony inside the locked car for an entire night until I blacked out. By dawn, Hailey had safely delivered a healthy baby boy. Only then did Sebastian order the guards to wheel me into the operating room. But my baby had suffocated. He died in my womb because of the delay. The severe infection forced the doctors to perform an emergency hysterectomy. I could never have children again. Seeing my lifeless eyes, Sebastian actually tried to comfort me in his rare gentle voice. “I can’t marry Hailey. My mother hates her. If anything happens to me, she and the baby will have nothing. I had to secure the inheritance for her as a safety net.” “You’re already Mrs. Sterling. You can raise her boy as your own. You don’t need another kid to stress you out anyway.” I screamed inwardly at the sheer absurdity. He wasn’t worried about my stress. He was paving the way for Hailey. That night, I dragged my weak body and knocked on the door of Sebastian’s mother, Victoria. “You promised me once. If I helped Sebastian secure the CEO position, you’d grant me one wish. I want a divorce.”

Before Sebastian even showed up, his other mistresses arrived in a group to mock me. They smirked, looking down at me on the hospital bed. “So what if she’s the legal wife? She thought she could control Mr. Sterling just because she was pregnant. Look at her now. She lost the baby and her dignity.” “Now that her uterus is gone, Mr. Sterling will probably dump her in a few days. Hailey is the lucky one. Just a lounge singer, but now she’s the mother of the heir.” Sebastian had kept the events of last night tightly under wraps. But everyone in our circle knew he had abandoned a multi-million-dollar deal just to be by Hailey’s side during labor, leaving me completely alone. Who mattered more to him was obvious. So, these women took out their frustrations of being neglected on me—the wife who existed only in name. I let out a bitter laugh. Ever since I got pregnant, Sebastian had stopped seeing these women. He came home every day to accompany me. But nobody knew he had secretly moved Hailey into our estate to care for her. He hadn’t stepped foot in my bedroom for months. He wanted to be close to his true love while shielding her from the jealousy of his other mistresses. There was no better shield than me, his legal wife. As I was lost in my thoughts, a familiar, cold voice rang out from the doorway. “She just escaped death. Who authorized you to disturb her?” “Get out, all of you!” The women scattered in panic. Sebastian walked over to my bedside. Seeing how pale I was, he sighed. “Chloe, don’t take it to heart. Some things are just destined. The baby just wasn’t meant to be yours.” “Hailey was worried about you. Even though she just gave birth, she insisted on coming to check on you.” What a beautiful excuse—”destined.” As if my agony last night had absolutely nothing to do with him. I looked up, my voice dead and flat. “It wasn’t destiny. His father killed him. You locked him inside me until he suffocated.” Before he could snap back, Hailey burst into tears right behind him. “Chloe, please don’t blame Sebastian. It’s all because of my poor background. I can’t marry him, so he wanted me to have the heir so we would have something to rely on.” “If you’re still angry, I can give my life for your baby. It’s just… my poor son would lose his mother right after birth…”

Sebastian quickly wiped her tears, his eyes filled with tenderness. “Don’t talk nonsense. We promised to watch our boy grow up and start his own family together.” When he turned back to me, his face was masked in cold irritation. “Chloe Vance, your own baby was just too weak. He couldn’t even survive a few extra hours in the womb. How can you blame anyone else?!” “I’ve let you keep the title of Mrs. Sterling. Even though you can’t conceive anymore, I have no plans to divorce you. I even planned to let Hailey’s son call you his godmother to make up for your loss.” “Instead of appreciating my kindness, you’re being bitter and sarcastic. Is this how a supportive wife behaves?! Reflect on your attitude!” Always demanding my understanding. The first time I caught him in bed with another woman, he claimed he was drugged and it wasn’t his fault. He said keeping her as a mistress was just “taking responsibility,” and asked for my understanding. Then came the second time, the third time… Eventually, he paraded Hailey around at high-society galas and hotels. Paparazzi camped outside our family mansion every day. His family blamed me for being incompetent. But Sebastian would nuzzle my neck, begging softly: “Don’t you think Hailey looks a bit like you when we were younger?” “It’s been so long since I felt that spark. Please, honey, just help me deal with the reporters and my mother.” Sebastian scooped Hailey up in a bridal carry, as if terrified she might tire herself out, and walked away. Hailey glanced back at me, playing the shy victim. “Sebastian, there are reporters outside. This will embarrass Chloe. Put me down…” Sebastian paused, letting out a mocking chuckle. “Let them take photos. I’m treating the woman I love right. Why should I care about anyone else’s feelings?” Faced with this deliberate humiliation, I didn’t cry. I walked right past the flashing cameras and went back to the Sterling mansion. I entered the room of Sebastian’s mother, Victoria. “You made a promise to my father. If he helped Sebastian take over the company, I could leave whenever I wanted.” “Now, I want you to fulfill that promise.” Before he passed away, my father was one of the founding members of the Sterling Group. It’s safe to say he built the empire alongside Sebastian’s late father. His influence was unmatched. Back when Sebastian was fighting his illegitimate brothers for the CEO seat, Victoria brought him to our house to propose, solely to secure my father’s backing. My father was reluctant at first. He knew I was quiet and simple, totally unfit for the cutthroat world of the ultra-wealthy. But Sebastian knelt on the floor and swore that no matter what happened, he would never betray me. We were childhood sweethearts. Seeing my blushing face, my father knew my heart. He threw all his weight behind Sebastian, securing him the throne. Before the wedding, my father called me into his study, looking at me with immense sadness. “Chloe, you’re still young. You don’t understand how money and power can corrupt a man’s soul.” “If you ever want to leave him, go to his mother. I am old and cannot protect you forever. But before I die, I will make sure my little girl has an escape route.” At the time, I thought my father was just being paranoid. How tragically naive I was. Sebastian knew nothing of this arrangement. Fortunately, Victoria still felt a debt of gratitude toward my father. She promised to deliver the signed divorce papers to me in seven days. In seven days, Sebastian would throw a massive banquet for Hailey and her baby to announce the new heir. My quiet departure would go completely unnoticed. Normally, a stillborn baby would be quietly cremated without any fuss. But perhaps out of guilt, Victoria made an exception and arranged a small, private memorial for my baby. According to the tradition, the casket would stay at the funeral home for three days.

Sebastian didn’t show up once. He was too busy buying jewelry and houses for Hailey, hiring top-tier nutritionists, and making her look more like the lady of the house than I ever was. He was busy naming their son “Valen,” symbolizing the precious treasure of his heart. But when his assistant asked what name should be engraved on my baby’s headstone, Sebastian just frowned in annoyance. “He was a useless burden anyway, and now he’s making the elders fuss over him. So thoughtless.” “Just engrave ‘Bane’ on it.” As if he wanted the whole world to know how much he detested his own child. Victoria overheard this and reprimanded him severely. She overruled him and named the baby “Julian.” She said it was a small way to make it up to me. But the person who truly owed me an apology was completely absent. That evening, Hailey walked into the funeral home, radiant and smug. “I know you’re grieving, Chloe. I really didn’t want to bother you.” “But Sebastian is hosting a grand gala for us in a few days. I’m still missing a few pink diamonds to match my evening gown.” I stared at my son’s urn and said quietly, “Then you should go to a jewelry store, not here.” Hailey’s smile widened. “Oh, come on. High-grade pink diamonds don’t just grow on trees. You can’t even find them at standard auctions.” “Sebastian told me you have a perfect set. He told me to just come and take it from you. You wouldn’t say no, would you?” My heart stopped. I slowly looked down at the bracelet on my wrist. It was a delicate chain of pink diamonds carved into cherry blossoms, sparkling under the cold fluorescent lights. Sebastian had given this to me when we got engaged. Back then, a trend was going around on social media about giving flowers to the one you love. I’ve always loved cherry blossoms. I jokingly told him, “If you can make me a cherry blossom bracelet, I’ll marry you.” It was a joke because cherry blossoms weren’t even in season. But the very next day, Sebastian flew to an international auction. He spent almost all of his personal savings to buy twelve rare pink diamonds and hand-carved them into cherry blossoms. When he presented it to me, he smiled like a foolish boy. “Chloe, I didn’t marry you just to become the heir. I’ve loved you for twelve years. I truly love you.” “Real flowers wither, but my love for you will never fade, just like these diamond blossoms.” And now, he was giving that love to someone else. I said flatly, “He bought it. He can give it to whomever he wants.” Before I could take it off myself, Hailey nodded to the bodyguards behind her. They grabbed my wrists roughly and ripped the bracelet off my arm. The chain was sturdy, and the force scraped a bloody gash across my wrist. Hailey feigned shock and covered her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry! These are the new bodyguards Sebastian assigned to protect me. They don’t know their own strength. Please don’t be mad.” The pink diamonds were pried off, and the broken metal chain was tossed carelessly at my feet. I stared at it blankly. Hailey smiled slyly. “This morning, I asked Sebastian if he preferred cherry blossoms or roses. Want to guess what he said? He said outdated things are just bad luck.” “So, just like this bracelet, no matter how real you look, you’re still outdated.” The bodyguard’s phone rang. It was a call saying Sebastian had bought a massive estate in Europe to plant Bulgarian roses just for Hailey. He even built a greenhouse to ensure she had fresh roses flown to her all year round, simply to keep her happy. It turns out, figuring out if someone loves you or is just patronizing you is incredibly simple. You just have to compare.

Yes, the pink diamonds were beautiful. Beautiful enough to make me forget that from the very beginning, his love was a lie. On the day of the baby’s burial, Victoria ordered Sebastian to accompany me. To perform his duty as a father, and to shut the mouths of the paparazzi. Sebastian agreed on the surface. But the moment the hearse cleared the city limits, he ordered the driver to stop and got out. “Chloe, there’s a major auction in New York today. A rare gemstone is up for grabs, and I want to get it for Hailey’s baby.” “Go to the cemetery yourself.” His assistant had already pulled up in a sleek sports car. Hailey was sitting in the back seat, looking stunning. I looked at the reporters hiding in the distance, clutching the heavy urn to my chest. “But the baby in here is also your son.” He paused, his brow furrowing in irritation. “Why do you keep comparing a dead baby to a living one? It’s not like my presence will bring him back to life. You’re wasting my time.” “Besides, Hailey hasn’t visited her parents in a month. I need to go with her. As my wife, you need to be more understanding. Stop throwing tantrums over minor things.” A month. He made it sound like a lifetime. I remembered when my father was critically ill. I had begged him to let me go back to my hometown to see him. Sebastian had shrugged it off: “Old people get sick all the time. The estate is busy, and Hailey has a cold. Who’s going to manage things if you leave?” “Plus, Hailey has been having nightmares about her late father. She’s depressed. If she sees you visiting your dad, she’ll only feel worse. Wait until she’s in a better mood.” I waited for three months. Hailey’s mood never improved. Instead, I got the news of my father’s passing. My relatives told me he refused to let go of his last breath, desperately waiting to see his little girl one last time. He died with his eyes wide open. “Sebastian, if you leave today, we are getting a divorce.” It was the first time I had ever called him by his first name. A flash of shock crossed his eyes. But it quickly morphed into burning rage. “Are you threatening me, Chloe Vance?! It’s just burying some ashes! You’re a grown woman. Do you really have to pick a fight over this?!” “Your parents are dead. You have no family left and no job. Who else do you have to rely on besides me?” “Since you married into the Sterling family, you are mine. Even if you die, you’ll be a ghost of the Sterling house. Stop playing these pathetic mind games with me!” I watched him slam the car door shut and drive off with Hailey. Sebastian finally said it out loud. That was the source of his arrogance. He believed I had nowhere to go, no career, and couldn’t survive without him. To him, my baby’s death was just a “minor thing.” Even though Sebastian paid off the paparazzi, photos of him abandoning the funeral still leaked onto social media. “Billionaire CEO Abandons Son’s Funeral to Attend Auction with Mistress.” The headline tanked the company’s stock. Shareholders flooded Victoria with angry phone calls. Furious, Victoria stormed into the villa Sebastian had bought for Hailey and gave her a severe lashing. I heard Hailey cried hysterically. So, the moment I stepped back into the mansion, Sebastian kicked my door open and slapped me hard across the face. “Just because I didn’t go to the cemetery, you leaked those photos to destroy Hailey and get my mother to humiliate her?!” “She cried so hard she almost fainted! She’s still recovering from childbirth! Do you know how dangerous that is? How can you be so vicious?!” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and let out a soft laugh.

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My best friend, Lily, was being abused by her husband. The moment she called, my boyfriend, Ethan, and I drove over a thousand miles through the night, crossing two state lines to get to her. We worked like a charm. I was the one throwing punches at her toxic husband, and Ethan was the one blocking the door. Lily froze for a second before joining the fight. On the drive back, the three of us looked at the bruises on each other’s faces and burst out laughing. But as Lily laughed, she started to cry. “You two better never fight,” she sobbed. “If you guys ever break up, who am I going to turn to?” Ethan, sitting in the driver’s seat, rolled his eyes. “We’re great, and we’re not breaking up, thank you very much. Worry about yourself.” From that day on, I took Lily into my apartment. I took care of her meals, her daily life, and encouraged her to start fresh. Ethan even got a little jealous. “Chloe, I’m your boyfriend. Why are you spending every single second with Lily?” Then, I went to Germany for a three-month business trip. When I came back, I found a pink plush keychain hanging in Ethan’s car. He stubbornly refused to admit who gave it to him. My face went cold, and I broke up with him on the spot. I grabbed my bags and called for Lily to leave with me. But instead of coming to my side, I watched her, pale-faced, walk slowly toward Ethan.

The air seemed to freeze. All I could hear was the rushing of the wind in my ears. Lily’s face was deathly pale, as if she would burst into tears at any moment. I tried my best to steady my trembling voice. “What is the meaning of this?” Ethan, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly stepped forward and held Lily’s hand, locking their fingers together. “I wanted to find a better time to tell you. That night… we both got drunk. Chloe, keeping it from you wasn’t fair.” I stared at their locked fingers. My vision went black. After an eight-hour flight, before I even had a chance to unpack my luggage, my body swayed. I almost collapsed to the ground. Ethan’s face tightened. He instinctively took a step forward to catch me, but I raised my hand, cutting him off. Lily’s eyes were bloodshot. She hesitated, not daring to come closer, and could only whisper my name in a small, trembling voice. “Chloe… did you skip the airplane food again? Is your blood sugar low? Are you dizzy…” She tentatively opened her palm. In it lay a single, wrapped creamy milk candy. My eyes stung. I clenched my teeth and forced the words out. “Shut up. I don’t want to make a scene in public.” I didn’t look at them again. I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, turned around, and walked straight into the crowd. The cold night wind blew against my face, drying the tears at the corners of my eyes. It was rush hour, and it was almost impossible to get an Uber. By the time I finally got home, Lily had already packed her things. She stood at the door, looking at me, hesitating to speak. I glanced at the matching slippers by the door, and the cartoon pillows on the sofa that featured the two of them. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t help but picture it. The night they got drunk, did they make out right here on this sofa? A wave of nausea hit me, and my stomach cramped so hard I almost threw up. My suitcase still held the German cookies I had bought for her, and the designer scarf I had picked out for Ethan. I remembered when Lily had called me on FaceTime, holding up her phone. “Don’t worry, Chloe! Thanks to your Ethan, I successfully got the job at the hospital. But you, take care of yourself in Germany. Remember to eat, and don’t forget to buy me those cookies! I sent you the picture.” I slammed the suitcase onto the floor, ripped out the cookies and the scarf, and threw them, along with the pillows, straight into the trash can. Lily’s tears spilled over instantly. Ethan frowned and stepped in front of her. “This is my fault. If you’re angry, take it out on me.” He looked down at Lily, his voice softening. “Wait for me outside.” Lily looked back at him with every step she took, dragging her suitcase out the door. When the door finally clicked shut, Ethan pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He paused, then put it back. “No matter what, I’m sorry.” “Chloe, I’ll talk to my dad. I’ll make sure you get the Assistant Chief of Cardiology position.” I clutched my cramping stomach and let out a cold laugh. “What is this? Compensation? Or a handout? I don’t need your charity.” Ethan’s expression changed. “You’re always like this. You act like there’s nothing in this world you can’t handle on your own. Chloe, I was your boyfriend. Why couldn’t you just rely on me for once, the way Lily does?” I interrupted him, my voice freezing cold. “Ex-boyfriend.” “And another thing—she needs you because she has no spine. I don’t need you because whatever I want, I can get it myself.” Ethan gave me a long, complicated look. “Take care of yourself.” Then, he quietly closed the door. The apartment was empty now. Only I was left. I couldn’t hold it together anymore. I collapsed onto the sofa, my stomach hurting so badly that I broke out in a cold sweat, my tears finally spilling over. I clutched my stomach and whispered to the empty room, “Damn it… it hurts. It hurts so much…”

At midnight, I woke up from a nightmare. I instinctively reached out and pushed the space next to me. “Can you get me some water?” My hand hit nothing but cold, empty sheets. The living room was pitch black. The only sound was the ticking of the clock. I stood in the darkness for a long time until the doorbell rang. When I opened it, no one was there. Only a thermal food delivery bag sat quietly on the mat. A sticky note was attached to it, written in a handwriting I knew all too well. [I bet you haven’t eaten. No matter what happened between us, don’t ruin your health.] I only gave it a cold look, then shut the door. I turned on the kitchen light, boiled some water, and made myself a bowl of instant noodles. Before, whenever I came home late from a long shift, Lily would pad around in her slippers, nagging me while crowding into the kitchen to boil water and make me a hot bowl of soup noodles. Now, sitting alone on the rug, I felt utterly exhausted. Maybe I put too much salt in the noodles. Otherwise, why did they taste so bitter and salty? The next day, I put myself together and went back to work at the hospital. The moment the elevator doors opened, I saw Ethan with his hands in his pockets. He was gently, affectionately tapping Lily on the head. When they saw me, their smiles froze instantly. I walked right past them without blinking. Behind me, I could hear some young nurses whispering, asking Lily if she had finally won over Dr. Carter. Her response was forced and awkward. Ethan, however, looked at me with a complicated expression. “You just got back. You probably haven’t rested enough. Do you want me to take your night shift?” I stepped around him coldly. “No, thank you.” Ethan came from a prominent family of doctors. He had been a golden boy his entire life. And I was the only person in the past twenty years who had ever beaten him for the top spot in medical school. That summer, Ethan had stood under the oak tree on campus, flashing his white teeth at me. “You’re Chloe Miller, right? You’re good, but so am I. Next exam, I’m taking the top spot back.” We had competed like that for years, until we both graduated and entered his family’s hospital. To keep people from gossiping, we kept our relationship a secret. Everyone in the hospital knew Dr. Miller and Dr. Carter were fierce rivals. No one knew that the two competitive doctors were actually in a long-term relationship—and had just had a brutal breakup the night before. No one except Lily. She was a nurse. After she escaped her husband, I had spent months counseling her. Not wanting to see her waste away at home, I had asked Ethan for a favor for the very first time in my life, getting her a job at our hospital. And that favor had given them the perfect excuse to spend all their time together. During lunch, Lily and Ethan sat together in the cafeteria. As I walked past, she whispered my name. I paused for a fraction of a second, but I didn’t stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lily looking downcast, while Ethan ruffled her hair, whispering something to comfort her. When I returned to my desk later, I found a creamy milk candy sitting on the corner. I stared at it, my hand holding my fork freezing. My childhood had been filled with my parents’ constant screaming and fighting. Having enough food to eat was a luxury back then. The only sweetness in my memories was Lily, giggling as she forced half of her milk candy into my hand. Later, when I developed stomach issues and low blood sugar, she always kept a pack of those candies in her bag. Before she moved away for her marriage, she had solemnly told Ethan, “Chloe only likes the original flavor. You have to remember that.” Back then, Ethan had looked at me with clear, tender eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.” And now, looking at the two figures walking away side by side, I let out a self-deprecating laugh. I picked up my tray and walked away without looking back. The candy sat lonely on the corner of the desk, unwanted. It was just a piece of candy. Giving it up wouldn’t be hard.

In the afternoon, Lily was completely distracted. She kept glancing toward the doctors’ office, though I didn’t know who she was looking for. When I went to do my rounds, I noticed the IV drip of a patient and frowned. “Lily.” She snapped out of it. “Dr… Dr. Miller.” I closed the patient’s door, my voice turning completely cold. “What’s going on with the dosage for Bed 11? Is this your first day on the job? Who’s going to take responsibility if something goes wrong?” Lily panicked. After checking the chart, her face went completely white. “Dr. Miller, I… I’m so sorry…” I took a deep breath. “The person you should be apologizing to is the patient, not me.” I turned to the Head Nurse. “Please don’t put Lily on my shifts anymore. Thank you.” Lily’s eyes instantly pooled with tears. She bit her lip, trying hard not to let them fall. Hearing the commotion, Ethan rushed over. After checking the dosage, he frowned. “It was just a minor mistake. There’s no need to make such a big deal out of it.” He patted Lily’s back gently to comfort her. I looked at his familiar face, feeling nothing but a massive wave of absurdity. “Ethan.” “Medical professionals cannot afford a single careless mistake. Behind every oversight is a human life. Who was the one who told me that?” Ethan’s expression changed. He choked on his words. Ethan was the hospital director’s son, spoiled since childhood. When we were in school, he had always tried to compete with me, but I had never backed down. Until one day, he smiled and explained to me, “My family is very strict. Don’t think of me as some lazy, rich trust-fund kid. Chloe, we share the same dreams and ambitions. I worked hard for everything I have, too. Can you please stop hating me?” I had truly believed we were the same kind of people. The hallway light fell on the medical chart, looking blindingly white. My eyes filled with disappointment, and I slowly shook my head. Ethan opened his mouth to say something else, but Lily sobbed, covered her mouth, and ran off. He shot me a deep, frustrated look, then turned and ran after her. From the rooftop of the hospital, you could see the city lights. I stood there, letting the cool evening wind blow over me. Suddenly, the door was pushed open. Lily walked in, her eyes red. “Ethan said… you always come here when you’re upset…” I froze. Whenever I dealt with a difficult patient or a tough case, I liked to come up here to clear my mind. This was supposed to be a secret shared only between Ethan and me. We fought in front of others, but in the empty corners of this rooftop, we had loved each other fiercely. Lily took a step closer. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I know ‘sorry’ isn’t enough. But I really… I couldn’t help my feelings. It just happened.” Her voice cracked. “You’re so strong. You can get anything you want—the job, the skills, everyone’s respect. But I’m different. I’m just an ordinary girl. I just wanted someone to be there for me…” I couldn’t help but sneer. “Out of all the men in the world, did it have to be Ethan?” Her face stiffened. After a long silence, she clenched her teeth. “Chloe, you can hate me or blame me, but I don’t regret it. You did help me a lot, but I don’t owe you anything anymore. We’re even.” I almost laughed out loud. After Lily left, Ethan stepped out from the shadows, standing just a foot away from me. He lit a cigarette. “Chloe, we’ve been together for so many years. But you’re always the calm one. You never say you need me, you never say you miss me, and you never show fear. You don’t need my family’s connections or my resources. Every time I give you a gift, you always make sure to return something of equal value.” “For a long time, I actually thought you didn’t care about me that much.” When he mentioned Lily, his eyes softened. “She’s different. Her whole world is me.” I was quiet for a long time. In the end, I just gave a mocking laugh and said nothing. Lily was a typical “love-brain.” Romance was her entire life, which was why she had been willing to leave her hometown to follow a man. I was different. Love was only a part of my life, maybe just ten percent. But in that ten percent, Ethan had occupied one hundred percent. Too bad he never understood that. I turned and walked away. The wind slammed the rooftop door shut behind me. I would never come back here again.

After that blowout on the rooftop, Lily and Ethan stopped hiding. They proudly announced they were together. They bought afternoon tea for the entire department. The young nurses, clueless about the drama, smiled and called out to me, “Dr. Miller, come get some! We saved an iced Americano for you.” Ethan frowned. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Her stomach is bad. The warm milk is hers.” Lily’s smile froze. The room went dead silent. I smiled, raising my own insulated mug. “I’ll stick to my warm water.” A few days later, I was off the night shift. As soon as I parked my car, my right eyelid started twitching violently. For the past few days, I had felt like someone was watching me. I took a deep breath and got out of the car. Suddenly, a dark figure rushed at me. My heart hammered in my chest. It was Lily’s ex-husband, Marcus. He was holding a baseball bat, glaring at me with bloodshot eyes. “Chloe, long time no see.” My stomach dropped. I tried to run, but he blocked my path. “You were so brave when you and your boyfriend showed up at my house to beat me up. Why are you acting like a coward now?” “Oh, right, I forgot. Your man was stolen by Lily.” “That bitch is with the hospital director’s son now, so I can’t touch her. But I have to get this anger out of my system. Dr. Miller, you’re just unlucky. You had to be friends with a snake like Lily. You took a bullet for her, and she stabbed you in the back.” Marcus smirked, his grip tightening on the baseball bat. I took a deep breath, slipping my hand into my pocket to feel for my phone. I blindly dialed my emergency contact. My hand was shaking, but I forced myself to stay calm, trying to reason with him. “What do you want? Money? We can talk.” Marcus spat on the ground. “I don’t want money. I want you to pay.” The baseball bat swung toward me. I screamed and bolted. “Marcus, calm down! Assault is a felony!” Marcus chased after me. “My wife ran away and made me the laughingstock of the town! I don’t give a damn about the consequences!” He cornered me in a dead-end alley. My entire body was trembling. “Please… don’t hurt my hands. I have a surgery tomorrow.” “The patient is a little girl. She’s been sick for so long. If the surgery works, she lives…” “Marcus, please…” Before I could finish, the baseball bat swung down with a sickening whoosh, smashing straight into my right arm. I clearly heard the sound of my bone shattering. Right before I blacked out, I looked at my phone, which had shattered on the ground. The screen showed that the call to my emergency contact had gone through. But he had never picked up. When I opened my eyes again, all I saw was the white hospital ceiling and the sharp smell of disinfectant. Lily was kneeling by my bedside, her eyes swollen from crying. “I’m sorry, Chloe… I’m so, so sorry…” Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot. He punched the wall in frustration. “I didn’t know… that call…” I simply closed my eyes. “Give me the X-ray report.” Ethan hesitated before handing it over. As a professional surgeon, one look was enough to tell me how bad the damage was. The physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. Trembling, I looked at my crying colleagues, and then at Lily and Ethan, who were drowning in guilt. “Get out. Please.” The door closed, and only then did the room fill with my muffled, agonizing cries. Ethan and Lily came to watch over my room every day, but I refused to see them. Until one day, Ethan spoke through the closed door, his voice heavy with pain. “Chloe, even if your hand doesn’t fully recover, it’s okay. I can ask my dad to transfer you to administration. Or would you like to go back to school to teach? Whatever you want, I’ll make it happen.” I didn’t answer him. I just looked at my bandaged arm. With a shaking left hand, I drafted a reply to an email from Germany. [I’ve made my decision. I’m coming.]

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I was three months pregnant when I went to the private clinic for my routine ultrasound. The moment I lay down on the examination table, the lead OB-GYN, Chloe Thorne, turned to her assistant and cold-bloodedly ordered, “Prepare the IV sedation. We’re performing an immediate D&C.” I bolted upright, instinctively shielding my stomach. “Are you insane? I’m here for a routine checkup, not an abortion!” Chloe pulled down her surgical mask, her lips curling into a cruel sneer. “You have the nerve to carry my husband’s baby and walk right into his hospital? You’ve got some balls.” My mind went completely blank. “Who exactly is your husband?” “Still acting, are we?” Chloe snatched a handful of photos from her desk and whipped them directly at my face. “My husband is the Chief of Medicine and the owner of this entire hospital!” I looked down at the scattered photos. They were candid shots of my husband, Julian Vance, discussing work with several female subordinates. I was so angry that I actually laughed. “You’re saying he owns this hospital?” She lifted her chin arrogantly. “Of course. He’s the king of this place. And as the first lady of this hospital, I’m telling you—you aren’t leaving this room today with that baby inside you.” Too bad for her, I had spent the last three years taking advanced kickboxing and self-defense classes. With a few swift moves, I knocked the assistant aside, bolted out of the operating room, and calmly dialed my phone. “Dad, take back the hospital you gifted to Julian. Right now. Also, his mistress is currently chasing me down with a scalpel, trying to kill me and your grandbaby.”

My dad’s voice went dead quiet. “Sienna, I’m heading over with my security team right now. Hold on and protect yourself!” After hanging up, I called Julian. The line was busy for what felt like an eternity before he finally picked up. “Sienna? What’s wrong?” Julian’s voice was raspy, heavy with exhaustion. He had been invited to perform a marathon surgery in a neighboring city and had been in the operating room for over twelve hours. I swallowed the anger burning in my throat and calmly told him what was happening. Julian panicked instantly. “Sienna, I’m driving back right now! Don’t believe a single word Chloe says! She and I are absolutely nothing!” The moment the call ended, the frantic clicking of Chloe’s high heels echoed down the hallway, getting closer and closer. “Get back here, you little bitch!” My strength was fading, and a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. “Were you just calling my husband?” Chloe’s eyes flared with pure malice when she caught up to me. When I didn’t answer, she swung her hand and slapped me hard across the face. My head snapped back, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Chloe was trembling with psychotic rage. “Look at her, everyone! This gold-digging whore crawled into my husband’s bed, and now she’s carrying his bastard!” she shrieked, attracting a crowd of onlookers in the corridor. Before I could recover, she shoved me violently against the wall. “Ah!” A sharp pain shot through my back, and tears welled in my eyes. Chloe sneered. “Oh, look at you, playing the fragile victim! That’s exactly how you seduced Julian, isn’t it?” “Julian Vance is my husband!” I gasped. “Pfft! Who the hell do you think you are? A basic bitch like you actually thinks she can be the director’s wife?” Ever since Julian took over the hospital, I had stayed away to avoid starting rumors about nepotism. But now, my silence was turning against me. The staring eyes of strangers and their hushed, judgmental whispers were suffocating me. When Chloe raised her hand to slap me again, I caught her wrist mid-air. “Chloe, that is enough!” The adrenaline finally broke through my fear. I stepped closer, staring her down. “Do you have any idea who I am? By what right do you think you can lecture me?” “I don’t give a damn who you are! My husband runs this place. You mess with me, and you’re dead in this city!” Suddenly, a figure rushed through the crowd and threw himself in front of me. “Sienna!” Julian had arrived, covered in sweat and dust from his mad drive. He pulled me tightly into his chest. The familiar scent of his cedarwood cologne wrapped around me, briefly quietening my doubts. Seeing me frozen, Julian gently shook my shoulders. “Did she hurt you?” The sheer panic in his eyes felt so real. Was I just overthinking things? My chest tightened, and the wall of strength I had built up crumbled. “Julian! This woman… she keeps saying she’s your wife!” I cried, pointing at Chloe. Chloe stamped her foot in frustration. “Julian! Put this little whore in her place! Show her who actually runs things here!” “Shut up!” Julian roared at Chloe. Then, he turned back to me, his voice softening instantly. “She’s just joking, honey. Don’t take it to heart.” Chloe went ballistic. “Julian! Why are you protecting this side-chick? She’s trying to steal my husband!” “Side-chick?” I whispered, my fingertips turning white as I clenched my fists. “Julian, did you tell people I was just your side-chick?” The uneasiness in my heart bloomed into terror. My mind was spinning. Was he really… Julian leaned in and whispered in my ear, “The extended Sterling family has been looking for any excuse to steal your inheritance. If they find out I only got this hospital because of your dad, they’ll target you next. I had to let people think our relationship was… unofficial. Just to keep you safe.” His words acted like a soothing drug. The side branches of the Sterling family had indeed been ruthless lately. Keeping me out of the spotlight made sense. I mentally scolded myself for being so paranoid. Anyone in the world could betray me, but not Julian. He loved me.

“Sienna, come with me. We need to talk.” Ignoring Chloe’s hysterical screaming, Julian led me into the Chief’s office and locked the heavy oak door behind us. On his desk sat a framed photo of me, smiling brightly in the sun. The edges of the silver frame were worn smooth, polished from what I assumed was constant handling. When we first took that photo, I hadn’t liked how I looked. But Julian had insisted it was his favorite. My eyes softened, but as I stepped closer, my gaze caught a weird crease peaking out from behind the photo. While Julian’s back was turned, I quickly slid the back of the frame open. Tucked underneath my picture was a photo of Julian and Chloe, arms wrapped around each other, sharing a passionate kiss. “Sienna?” Julian’s voice startled me from behind. I quickly jammed the frame back together, wiping the cold sweat from my palms. “About today…” Before Julian could finish his explanation, the sound of a key turning in the lock cut him off. Chloe walked right in. “Julian, why is she in your office? Did you seriously give her a spare key?” My eyes narrowed as I looked at the key in Chloe’s hand. “Don’t start, Chloe,” Julian said quickly. “It’s just so she can deliver confidential files easily.” “Deliver files? Or deliver herself?” Chloe mocked. Julian stiffened. “Since when did you become so petty?” Chloe laughed bitterly. “Julian, I’m not like Sienna. She’s already slept around with God knows how many guys, and she still expects to be your legal wife!” The room went dead silent. My body turned to ice, and the color drained from my face. The darkest, most agonizing memory of my life rushed back. Three years ago, I was kidnapped and brutally assaulted by multiple men. When Julian and the police finally found me, there wasn’t a single patch of unbruised skin on my body. In a fit of protective rage, Julian had hunted down every single one of those monsters and made sure they rotted in maximum security. My father had used all the Sterling family’s influence to wipe that incident from existence. How on earth did Chloe know about it? Sensing my trembling, Julian reached out and covered my ears. “Sienna, don’t listen to her garbage.” I stared blankly at him. A massive pain was ripping my heart open. If he knew her words were garbage, why was he letting her drag my deepest trauma into the light? The words “why aren’t you stopping her?” choked in my throat, unable to come out. “Garbage?” Chloe screamed, swiping everything off his desk. Papers and glass shattered on the floor. “It’s because of this bitch that you’re treating me like this! You whore!” Her screeching was giving me a migraine. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police!” I snapped. “Go ahead! Call them!” Chloe shrieked. “Let everyone see who you really are!” I reached into my bag, pulled out our marriage certificate, and held it up for everyone outside the glass door to see. “Julian Vance and I are legally married.” Julian stared at the certificate, his eyes darting away guiltily when he met Chloe’s gaze. Seeing the solid proof, the onlookers immediately flipped, whispering insults at Chloe instead. I smiled coldly. “Chloe, what do you have to say now?” “That marriage certificate is a fake!” she yelled. What?! The crowd gasped. My face hardened. “I’m calling the cops.” But before I could dial, Julian snatched the phone out of my hand and canceled the call. “What are you doing?” I demanded. “Sienna, if we involve the police, the scandal will ruin the Sterling family’s reputation!” Julian whispered urgently in my ear. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Julian, are you really worried about the Sterling family? Or are you worried about yourself? “Fine,” I said, looking at Chloe. “I won’t call the police. But she owes me an apology.” “Never! Sienna, you are not leaving this hospital with that baby!” Chloe lunged at me, but Julian stepped in, blocking her. “Julian, you’re stopping me?” Chloe cried, her voice cracking. “Without this baby, you could finally—” Julian cut her off with a hard, ringing slap to her face. But the unfinished sentence kept echoing in my head like a curse.

My throat felt tight. I looked at Julian, testing him. “Julian… our baby…” Julian pulled me into his arms, kissing my forehead gently. “Don’t think too much, sweetheart.” The scent of cedarwood clouded my senses, making my brain feel sluggish. Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was a text from my dad. I looked down, and the words on the screen made the world spin around me. I stumbled, and Julian quickly caught me. “Sienna, what’s wrong?” I pushed his hand away, keeping my eyes downcast to hide the storm brewing in them. “I’m fine.” But in my head, a dark voice whispered: Your little fairytale is over, Julian. “Sienna, Julian doesn’t love you,” Chloe sneered, wiping the blood from her lip. “He’s just playing a part.” “Shut up!” Julian yelled. “Just accept reality, abort the bastard, and get lost!” Chloe continued. “I said shut the hell up!” Julian’s roar actually made Chloe flinch. Her eyes filled with tears. “Julian… are you actually falling for Sienna?” I fixed my gaze on Julian, waiting for the answer I already knew was coming. “…Of course I love her,” Julian said. The scene mirrored a moment from years ago. “Sienna, I love you!” “Julian Vance will love Sienna Sterling forever!” I tilted my head back, forcing my tears to stay inside. My dad’s text was still burned into my mind. Julian, how could I have ever believed you? “Love?” Chloe laughed so hard tears streamed down her face. “If you love her, why did you fake-marry her?” My phone slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor. Even though I had suspected it, hearing the bloody truth out loud felt like a thousand ants devouring my heart. Julian gripped my shoulders, his fingers digging in painfully. “Sienna, don’t listen to her! She’s out of her mind! I love you, you know that. How could our marriage be fake?” “Julian, you don’t even have the balls to admit it!” Chloe mocked. “Chloe, shut your mouth or I swear to God—” “Sienna…” An icy chill washed over me. “Let her speak!” I commanded. Chloe smirked. “Take a close look at the state seal on your marriage certificate, Sienna. You’ll see who’s lying.” Julian frantically tried to snatch the certificate from my hand, hiding it behind his back. “She’s just trying to break us up!” he pleaded, signaling his security guards to drag Chloe away. I fought to keep my voice from shaking. “Give it to me.” “Sienna…” “Give. It. To. Me!” Julian’s sheer terror confirmed everything Chloe had said. His hand trembled as he slowly handed the document back to me. I held it up to the light coming through the window. The watermark of the state seal was a cheap, printed imitation. It practically mocked my naivety. My heart squeezed so hard I couldn’t breathe. Hot tears finally spilled over. “Why did you lie to me?” “I…” “Julian only married you for your money,” Chloe answered for him. My eyes were red as I stared at him, desperate for a confession. “Is that true? Julian, I want to hear it from your mouth.” Julian’s dead silence drained the last bit of life out of me. “You really wouldn’t believe it until you saw the proof, would you?” Chloe sneered, pulling a document from her bag and tossing it at me. With trembling hands, I opened it. It was a real, legally certified marriage license. The names listed were Julian Vance and Chloe Thorne. A tear fell onto the paper. “So… I’m the mistress?” I whispered, my voice so raspy it barely made a sound. “I’m sorry,” Julian said. His voice didn’t have a single shred of emotion. He stood there like a stranger, calmly watching my world collapse. I should have known. The rich girl saving the poor, brilliant boy was a cliché. But I had believed it. I had believed every single word. “Julian…” I laughed bitterly, saying the name that used to make my heart flutter. “You wanted this hospital that badly?” Clearly not expecting me to be so direct, Julian paused. “…Yes.” He finally tore off his mask, revealing the monster underneath.

The blood boiled in my veins. “This hospital belongs to the Sterling family. You will never get your hands on it!” “Your family’s?” Julian scoffed. “If it weren’t for me, this place would have gone bankrupt years ago! Honestly, you should be thanking me.” “That’s not true! My dad only did that to—” “To test me?” Julian interrupted. “Sienna, do you actually believe that garbage?” I stared at the floor, numb. “So that’s what you really think?” His silence was my answer. My blood turned to ice. Even the bright afternoon sun couldn’t warm me. Chloe stared at my stomach, her eyes filled with dark malice. “Julian, if this little bastard disappears… will you be sad?” Julian answered instantly, his voice completely casual. “No.” “Julian, this is your child!” I screamed. “You’re dirty, Sienna,” he whispered. Those words shattered whatever dignity I had left. Three years ago, when I was rushed to the hospital after the kidnapping, the doctors said my body was too damaged to ever carry a child. But Julian had spent years treating me, helping me heal, until this miracle finally happened. And now, he was calling me dirty. Chloe stepped toward me. I instinctively curled into a ball, covering my stomach. “What are you doing?” She kicked me hard in the ribs, sending me crashing to the floor, and then slammed her heel right onto my pregnant belly. “Once this baby is gone, everything the Sterling family owns will belong to Julian and me!” Chloe laughed maniacally. An agonizing, white-hot pain exploded in my abdomen. Every breath felt like inhaling fire. A broken sob escaped my throat. “Julian… save me… please…” Julian looked down at me, his eyes cold and dead. “Just bear with it. Be a good girl, Sienna. It’ll be over soon.” It was the exact same gentle tone he used to whisper in my ear during our intimate nights, coaxing me into surrender. Julian knelt down, placed his heavy hand on my abdomen, and pressed down with all his might. “AHHH!” I screamed in agony, my fingernails scraping against the hardwood floor until they bled. “Help! Somebody help me!” I shrieked at the guards standing outside. “I dare any of you to move!” Julian barked. His men blocked the door, instantly tackling a nurse who tried to call for help. I closed my eyes, completely defeated, lying motionless on the floor. The faint flutter in my womb slowly stopped. A warm, wet sensation began to pool between my thighs. My vision started to fade into blackness. “Julian… I hate you…” I muttered. With the last of my strength, I dragged myself toward the door, leaving a horrific trail of red behind me. “Wait,” Chloe said, stopping me. “Julian, are we just going to let her leave like this? If she talks, we’re ruined!” Julian stayed silent for a second. “What do you suggest?” Chloe let out a psychotic laugh. “Kill her.” “Are you insane? That’s murder!” I gasped, staring at her in disbelief. “You came in for a pregnancy checkup, found out the baby was severely deformed, got depressed, and jumped out the window. Who would ever suspect us?” Chloe said, dragging my limp body toward the open window. “Chloe, maybe we shouldn’t…” Julian hesitated. “Julian, if this woman stays alive, we lose everything!” The conflict in Julian’s eyes vanished, replaced entirely by pure greed. “Julian, do you really want me dead?” I cried out, trying to grab his arm. “If you let me go, I’ll make sure my dad officially signs the hospital over to you!” I tried to appeal to whatever humanity he had left, but I had severely underestimated his greed. “Sign it over? I earned this hospital with my own talent. I don’t need charity from the Sterling family!” “Your own talent?” I let out a bloody, mocking laugh. “What are you laughing at?!” Julian’s face distorted with rage. With half my body dangling out of the window, I looked Julian dead in the eye and grabbed his collar. “Julian Vance… I will make sure you live to regret this day.” Then, I let go. I fell backward into the open air. “Sienna!” Julian’s panicked voice faded into the rushing wind. In those few seconds of falling, my entire life flashed before my eyes. Our childhood promises, our college years… all of it meant nothing in the face of greed. CRASH! Through the blinding pain, I heard a familiar voice screaming my name. “Sienna!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “444676”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

On my way to the hospital after my husband’s car crash, I scrolled past a viral thread on Twitter. [My pregnant mistress wants me to divorce my barren wife. But I want to get my hands on my wife’s million-dollar estate buyout money first. What should I do?] The original poster had replied to a highly-voted comment, thanking them: [It’s hard to touch a wife’s personal inheritance. But you can get her to spend it willingly.] [Fake a car accident. She’ll definitely pay for your medical bills out of guilt and love.] [Then, pretend to be in a vegetative state and get transferred to a private, closed-off care facility.] [She won’t be allowed to visit easily, making it easy for you to funnel her cash. You’ll even have enough to pay for your mistress’s luxury postpartum care!] My brows furrowed. I immediately reported the post for fraud. The next second, my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Is this the family of Julian Vance? Mr. Vance was in a severe car accident and is now in a vegetative state. Please come to the hospital immediately!”

By the time I rushed to the hospital, Julian had already been pushed into the ICU. After verifying my identity, the nurse led me to the attending physician, Dr. Madelyn Hayes. The name sounded incredibly familiar. I looked at her slightly bloated lower abdomen, then recalled the Twitter poster’s profile. His feed was filled with posts dedicated to someone named “Maddy.” It clicked. She was Julian’s mistress! This whole thing was a setup they had planned long ago. Suppressing my boiling rage, I spoke directly. “If that’s the case, I choose to withdraw life support.” Madelyn’s face turned instantly pale. The words slipped out of her mouth before she could stop herself: “You can’t!” I raised my eyes and stared straight at her. “Why not, Dr. Hayes?” Realizing she had overreacted, she quickly softened her tone. “Mrs. Vance, you are emotionally unstable right now. You shouldn’t make impulsive decisions.” “Although the patient is clinically brain-dead, if we transfer him to a private care facility and keep him on life support, there might be a chance of recovery.” “As long as there’s a sliver of hope, we shouldn’t give up. Especially since you are his wife.” To any bystander, Dr. Hayes would look like a deeply caring, ethical doctor. Looking at her self-righteous face, I sneered inwardly. If I hadn’t seen that Twitter thread, I probably would have been fooled. I took the medical consent form from her. The diagnosis was written clearly. [Loss of brainstem reflexes, no spontaneous respiration, irreversible brain damage. Meets the clinical criteria for brain death.] At the very bottom was Madelyn’s signature. Her handwriting was elegant, but the ink was pressed hard into the paper. It was like a knife she had handed directly to me. I asked her, “Dr. Hayes, are you sure my husband is brain-dead?” Madelyn’s eyes flickered. “Based on the current test results, yes, that is the diagnosis.” “What do you mean ‘based on the results’?” I slapped the paper onto the desk, my voice leaving no room for argument. “A patient in a vegetative state has spontaneous breathing. A brain-dead patient does not. You know the difference better than I do, Doctor.” “Brain death means the complete and irreversible loss of all brain function. Legally and medically, it is the definition of death. There is zero chance of recovery.” Madelyn froze, biting her lip. The nurse beside her subconsciously glanced at her. Before she could respond, I continued. “If this medical record is accurate, the patient is legally dead.” “As his spouse, I am requesting to stop all meaningless, invasive life support. Is there a problem with that?” “Yet, as a doctor, you are using this diagnosis to pressure me into transferring him to an expensive private facility. What exactly are your intentions?” Madelyn’s fingers began to tremble. “Chloe, you can’t look at it that way.” “Why can’t I?” I pulled out my phone and tapped the Snapchat voice recorder. “Would you mind repeating that, Dr. Hayes?” “Is Julian Vance legally brain-dead, or is he a comatose patient who might wake up?” The air in the office froze. Madelyn remained silent. I turned to the Chief of Medicine who was standing nearby. “If the hospital stands by this brain-death diagnosis, please give me the papers to sign off on withdrawing treatment.” “If you think he is not brain-dead, then edit this medical record immediately and explain why Dr. Hayes exaggerated his condition.” The Chief’s face turned grim. He flipped through the file, then shot a warning look at Madelyn. “If the family insists, we agree to withdraw life support.” Madelyn bolted upright, about to speak. The Chief frowned. “You wrote the medical report, Madelyn. The wife is making a decision based on your written diagnosis. Procedurally, she is entirely within her rights.” The nurse quickly brought over the paperwork. I picked up the pen. Madelyn stared at my hand, her face as white as a sheet. My heart was cold. They wanted to show me a “dying” husband to force me to use my late mother’s estate buyout money to keep him alive. But they never expected that my first reaction wouldn’t be tears. It would be pulling the plug. Just as the pen touched the paper, loud, chaotic footsteps echoed from the hallway. My mother-in-law, Eleanor, screamed as she burst through the door. “Chloe Miller! Don’t you dare sign that paper!”

Eleanor rushed over and slapped the pen out of my hand. The pen rolled across the floor. She saw the withdrawal of treatment form, and her eyes turned instantly red. She pointed a finger at my nose and shrieked. “Are you insane? Julian is lying in there, and you’re in a rush to kill him?” “My poor son! How did he end up marrying such a heartless monster? If anything happens to my son, you are a murderer!” My father-in-law, Richard, stood at the door, his face dark. “Even with brain death, he’s still breathing through the machine. As long as the monitor is beeping, he is alive.” “The doctor said there’s hope. Why are you so eager to give up? Did you do something behind my son’s back?” They hurled accusations at me, even trying to slut-shame me in public. But my mind was completely calm. I bent down, picked up the pen, and looked at them. “Eleanor, Richard, look at this. This is the diagnosis issued by the hospital.” “It’s right here in black and white. Julian is brain-dead.” “Do you really want him to lie in that bed, hooked up to machines like a hollow shell? Keeping him alive like this is an insult to his dignity!” My words were logical and firm. Richard was left speechless. Eleanor’s body shook with rage. She slid down to the floor, wailing loudly. “Everyone, come look at this!” “My son got into a horrible crash, and his wife won’t spend a single dime to save him! She wants to pull the plug just to save her money!” “Her mother left her millions of dollars from the property buyout, but she clutches that money tighter than life itself! She’s letting my son die!” “She’s been barren for years and couldn’t even give us a grandchild, but we never judged her! Now, this cold-blooded woman wants to end our family line!” The hospital hallway was packed. Her dramatic wailing quickly drew a crowd of patients and visitors. People started whispering. “Her husband is dying, and she won’t save him?” “No matter how much money she inherited, human life comes first.” “No wonder they don’t have kids. She has a heart of stone.” The words stung, making my fingers twitch slightly. We had been married for six years, and I had heard these insults for six years. The Vance family blamed me for being barren. Their relatives whispered that I was a useless wife occupying a space without producing an heir. Eleanor even forced herbal concoctions down my throat until I threw up. But what they didn’t know was this: Three years ago, Julian and I had a full fertility evaluation. The results showed he had azoospermia. He was completely sterile. He could never have biological children. To save his ego, I took all the blame. And yet, he went behind my back, got a mistress pregnant, and planned to kick me to the curb. But before kicking me out, he wanted to strip away the estate my mother left me. Madelyn stood at the back of the crowd, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Chloe, I understand you’re under a lot of pressure.” “Long-term care is indeed expensive.” “But if we transfer him to a specialized facility, his vitals can be maintained. Miracles do happen.” I looked at her. “A minute ago, you said his brain damage was irreversible.” “Now you’re talking about miracles.” “Dr. Hayes, medicine seems very flexible when it comes to your convenience.” Her face stiffened. Eleanor immediately shrieked, “Stop harassing the doctor! Dr. Hayes is trying to help!” “She’s pregnant and still working hard for my son, while you, his wife, are trying to murder him!” Richard added with a grim face, “Chloe, you can’t be this cold-blooded.” “The house belonged to your mother, yes. But once you married Julian, you became a Vance.” “Your husband is in trouble. It is your duty to use that money to treat him.” I stared at this family. One did the crying. One took the moral high ground. And one wore a white coat to authorize the scam. What a perfect team. After a long silence, I handed the papers back to the nurse. “Fine. I agree to keep him on life support and transfer him to the care facility.” Eleanor’s tears stopped instantly. Richard visibly relaxed. Madelyn lowered her gaze, gently resting her hand on her belly as she let out a quiet sigh of relief. I caught every single one of their reactions and curled my lips. They thought I had surrendered. But only I knew that once Julian left this hospital, he was stepping right into a trap of his own making. That evening, Julian was transferred to a private care center on the outskirts of the city. Eleanor handed me the bill. Initial deposit: $60,000. Subsequent monthly fee: $20,000. I didn’t take the pen. “The buyout money hasn’t cleared yet.” Eleanor panicked. “Use your savings first!” I looked at her. “Doesn’t Julian have his own accounts?” Her eyes darted away. “He’s in a coma! How can we access his accounts now?” I didn’t expose her lie. When I got home that night, I opened Twitter. Sure enough, the thread was updated. [My wife tried to pull the plug, but my parents threw a scene at the hospital and scared her. She agreed to the transfer.] [She even tried to sniff around my personal bank accounts, but I saw that coming. With her tiny brain, she’s no match for me.] [Once her mother’s estate money clears, we can squeeze at least a hundred grand out of her first.] I screenshot everything and backed it up. The show has just begun. I can’t wait.

The next morning, I went back to the hospital. The nurse told me Dr. Hayes had taken a leave of absence, citing pregnancy discomfort. She was starting her maternity leave early. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. She was brave enough to fake a medical record but ran away the moment things got real. When the Chief of Medicine met us, his expression was highly defensive. “Mrs. Vance, the patient has already been transferred to the care center.” “What is your reason for requesting a formal freeze on his medical records now?” My best friend and lawyer, Naomi Brooks, placed a formal authorization and legal letter on his desk. “There are major disputes regarding the patient’s condition, the transfer process, and the financial liabilities.” “As his legal spouse, we demand a complete freeze and copy of all original medical files, emergency room logs, imaging, consultations, and the brain-death assessment records.” The Chief frowned. “We shouldn’t over-interpret the term ‘brain death’.” I pushed the consent form signed by Madelyn across the table. “I didn’t over-interpret it. Your attending physician wrote it.” “Yesterday, she informed me that Julian had irreversible brain damage and no spontaneous breathing, relying entirely on machines.” “Based on that, I requested to withdraw life support, and the hospital agreed to proceed.” “Now, the Vance family is demanding I pay exorbitant long-term care fees.” “I need this hospital to issue a formal death certificate based on this brain-death record.” The Chief’s face paled. “He is still alive at the care center. I cannot issue a death certificate.” I nodded. “Then please issue a formal, written statement.” “State clearly that Dr. Madelyn Hayes’s previous diagnosis of brain death is invalid. State that Julian Vance still has spontaneous life functions and has a chance of waking up.” “And explain why a patient who does not meet the criteria for brain death was declared brain-dead and recommended for a closed-off, long-term care facility.” The office fell dead silent. Naomi spoke in a cool, detached tone. “Chief, we aren’t trying to make things difficult for the hospital.” “But medical records are legal documents, not tools used to scare families into paying money.” “If the hospital refuses to cooperate, we will file a formal complaint with the medical board, the insurance regulators, and the police simultaneously.” The Chief’s face grew darker by the second. He made a few phone calls. Half an hour later, the records department sealed all of Julian’s files. An hour later, the hospital handed me a stamped document. It stated: Julian Vance suffered severe traumatic brain injury resulting in irreversible loss of brain function, with no spontaneous respiration, relying on mechanical ventilation and medication to maintain vitals, meeting clinical criteria for brain death. Holding that piece of paper, my heart was perfectly still. They handed me the knife. I just caught it. Our first stop was the bank. I submitted our marriage certificate, the medical certification of brain death, joint account statements, and a report for suspicious transfers. Three days before his “accident,” Julian had transferred $80,000 out of our joint account. $30,000 went to Madelyn. $20,000 went to a luxury postpartum care center. The rest went to several unfamiliar personal accounts belonging to Madelyn’s relatives. The transfer notes all read: “Loan repayment.” After reviewing the documents, the bank manager looked grim. “Mrs. Miller, we cannot close the account without a formal death certificate.” “However, based on these severe identity risks, potential fraud, and spousal disputes, we can freeze Mr. Vance’s primary accounts and suspend all payment permissions immediately.” I smiled. “That works perfectly.” “I just need to make sure he can’t spend another dime.” Our second stop was Julian’s company. He worked as a project manager at a real estate firm, and he happened to be in charge of the redevelopment files for my mother’s old neighborhood. When the HR manager heard the story, she looked sympathetic at first. But after Naomi handed over the certified medical files, her expression changed. “Since Mr. Vance is clinically brain-dead, we will suspend his salary, shut down his employee ID, and revoke his system access immediately.” “We will also hand over the buyout projects he was managing to our legal department for review.” Our third stop was the City redevelopment office. I formally revoked the authorization I had given Julian to handle my mother’s estate buyout. The clerk verified my ID and said: “Mrs. Miller, going forward, we will only accept your signature for the buyout agreement.” “The compensation funds will only be deposited into an account solely under your name.” I nodded. “Thank you.” Finally, we went to the insurance company. Two months ago, Julian had taken out a high-value accidental death and dismemberment policy. The sole beneficiary was his mother, Eleanor. I submitted the screenshots of the Twitter thread, the medical records, the transfer files, and the bank statements. “I’m not here to file a claim,” I told the agent. “I suspect someone is faking an accident and fabricating a critical medical condition to commit insurance fraud and grand larceny.” The claims specialist sat up straight. “We will launch an immediate anti-fraud investigation.” Over the next few days, Eleanor called me incessantly, demanding money for the care facility. I knew why. Julian’s salary had already been spent on Madelyn. With no cash left, they were desperate to bleed me dry. I only gave her one reply: “The buyout money hasn’t cleared. Besides, Julian has plenty of money in his personal account. Use that.” Eleanor didn’t want to expose Madelyn’s existence, so she didn’t dare push me too hard. A week flew by. One night, just as I was drifting off to sleep, an unknown number called me. Julian’s raging voice erupted from the receiver: “Chloe Miller! What the hell did you do?!”

I put the phone on speaker. “Who is this?” The line went quiet for a second. “It’s Julian!” I chuckled. “Isn’t Julian Vance brain-dead?” “Are you calling me from the afterlife, or is this a zombie?” His voice shook with fury. “Stop playing mind games with me!” “All my cards are frozen!” “My company says my employee ID is flagged, and my salary has been suspended!” “The care facility is harassing my mother for bills!” “Even the postpartum center called saying my final payment was declined!” “Chloe, by what right do you do this?” I leaned back comfortably against the sofa. “By the right of the medical diagnosis signed by Madelyn Hayes.” “By the right of the stamped medical certificate from the hospital.” “By the right of your parents publicly declaring you brain-dead to force me to pay for your life support.” He fell silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his voice lacked its previous confidence. “The doctor just wrote it to sound serious.” “I’m not dead.” “You’re not dead?” My voice was calm. “Then explain how you got a brain-death certificate.” “Explain why you had to be put in a closed-off private facility.” “Explain why you transferred money to Madelyn and the postpartum center right before your crash.” “And explain why your mother tried to force me into signing the insurance paperwork using your accidental death policy.” Julian had no answer. I knew he finally realized the corner he had painted himself into. If he kept playing dead, he would remain a “dead man” with frozen cards, no salary, and no legal rights. But if he stood up, he would have to admit this entire show was a scam from start to finish. After a long silence, he spat out, “Chloe, we’ve been married for six years. Don’t be so heartless.” I almost laughed. “Did you think about our six years of marriage when you faked a coma to steal my inheritance?” “Did you think about it when you let your mother call me a barren failure?” “Did you think about it when you and Madelyn plotted to steal my mother’s estate for your bastard child?” He suddenly shouted, “That is my child!” I paused for two seconds. “Are you sure about that?” The line went dead silent. I didn’t elaborate. Some truths are better delivered in person. I hung up and sent the Snapchat audio recording to Naomi. She texted back: [He can’t keep this act up much longer.] The next afternoon, I went to the bank to submit some follow-up documents. The moment I stepped out of the elevator, a man wearing a baseball cap rushed toward me and grabbed my wrist. “Chloe Miller!” “Unfreeze my accounts right now!” I looked at the hospital gown under his jacket and smiled. Julian. The dead had risen. The bank lobby was packed. He must have run here in a hurry. His jacket wasn’t even zipped properly, and the medical tape on the back of his hand was still hanging loose. I didn’t struggle. I just raised my other hand and tapped the Snapchat recorder. “Julian?” “Aren’t you brain-dead?” His face stiffened, and he hissed under his breath, “Let’s talk at home.” I took a step back, raising my voice. “No need to go home.” “Your medical record says you have no spontaneous breathing and are kept alive solely by machines.” “Could someone explain to me how a brain-dead patient walked out of a care facility and came to a bank to threaten me?” The tellers behind the counter gasped. The security guard immediately walked over. A few bystanders pulled out their phones to record. Panic flashed in Julian’s eyes. “My condition improved!” I nodded. “Wonderful. A medical miracle.” “Then why don’t you explain why Dr. Hayes diagnosed you as brain-dead right before your ‘miracle’?” “Why did your parents try to scam $60,000 out of me for your care?” “And why did you transfer our joint marital assets to your mistress right before your crash?” He gritted his teeth. “Chloe, don’t push me.” I ripped my wrist from his grip. “You pushed yourself into this corner.” “If you don’t wake up, you’re a dead man.” “If you wake up, you have to explain who falsified those legal documents.” I turned to the bank manager. “Please call the police.” “I suspect this man is impersonating a clinically deceased person to commit medical fraud and grand larceny.” Julian’s face went completely pale. The police arrived quickly. Faced with officers, Julian immediately changed his story. He claimed he had just woken up from a brief coma, that the hospital’s wording was simply inaccurate, and that this was all a misunderstanding between husband and wife. I handed the Twitter screenshots, the audio recordings, the medical files, and the bank statements to the officers. “It is not my job to determine if he is alive or dead.” “If he is alive, please investigate who falsified the brain-death document.” “If he is dead, please investigate who this man standing in front of us is.” As Julian was led away by the police, he glared at me with pure venom. I watched his pathetic, struggling figure, my heart entirely unmoved. He thought waking up would get his money back. But the moment he stood up, he put himself on the witness stand.

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I have a strange, terrifying ability. Whenever my younger sister, Chloe, steals something from me, I get a brief, vivid glimpse of her future in my dreams—a future she builds using the very thing she took from me. When we were kids, she stole my piano. In my dream, I saw her taking a bow on a grand stage at Carnegie Hall ten years later. In middle school, she stole my spot in the National Math Olympiad. In my dream, I saw her holding a first-place trophy, getting accepted into the elite private academy I had dreamed of attending. And last night, the eve of the SAT, she stole my admission ticket and my ID card. This time, the future I saw in my dream wasn’t hers. It was mine. There were no applause, no trophies, no flowers. I was standing on the rooftop of a hospital, clutching a crumpled, ruined medical waiver explaining my absence from the exam. Down on the street below, my parents were holding a sobbing, trembling Chloe. My older brother, Ethan, looked up at me and screamed, “Serena, are you really not satisfied until you’ve driven Chloe to suicide?” The wind was howling. I saw the future version of myself smile. And then, I jumped. 1 When I woke up, Chloe was sitting at my desk. Seeing my eyes open, she flashed me a sweet, innocent smile. “Serena, can you do me a favor and skip the exam tomorrow?” Her eyes were red and puffy. “Mom saw a spiritual reader today. She said that if you take the SAT in the same room as me tomorrow, you’ll suck away all my good energy.” I let out a cold laugh. Always the same excuse. Since we were kids, everyone in the family treated Chloe like our personal golden child. The day she was born, my dad’s failing business suddenly secured a massive, life-saving contract. My grandmother had held the crying baby Chloe and declared that she was the angel who saved the Miller family. Meanwhile, because of a complication during my birth, I barely survived. My grandmother always said I was born under a bad star, a curse brought to drain the family’s wealth. When I was six, I won first place in a state piano competition. On the way home, Ethan fell and broke his leg. My mother, holding a crying Chloe, looked at me with cold eyes and said for the first time, “Serena, stop trying to stand out so much. Every time you shine, bad things happen to this family.” Since then, whenever I did slightly better than Chloe, someone in the house would suffer an “accident.” Eventually, I stopped bringing my report cards and certificates home altogether. I held out my hand. “Give me back my SAT ticket and ID.” Chloe instantly flinched, pulling her hands back. Just then, the door pushed open. My mom walked in, holding a warm mug of milk. Seeing me awake, she handed it to me. “Drink this, Serena. Go to sleep early.” My throat tightened. But just as I took the mug, she pulled a folded sheet of paper from her apron pocket. “Your dad and I talked. Tomorrow morning, you’re not going to the first section of the exam.” I looked down at the paper. Family Agreement: 1. Serena Miller shall not approach Chloe Miller before entering the test center. 2. Serena Miller shall not ride in the same car as Chloe Miller to the exam. 3. Serena Miller shall not touch Chloe Miller’s testing supplies. 4. If Chloe Miller experiences severe anxiety, Serena Miller agrees to voluntarily delay her entry to the exam hall. My name was already printed at the bottom. All that was missing was my signature. The warm milk suddenly felt scalding in my hands. “What do you mean, voluntarily?” My mom avoided my eyes. “Serena, I know you feel wronged, but your sister is different. She gets so anxious she can barely breathe. Your grades are always stable. Skipping one section won’t kill you.” My dad walked in next, holding a pen and a manila folder. Seeing that folder, my heart sank. Inside wasn’t just my SAT ticket. It was the registration form for a local community college. My dad placed it on the desk. “We’ve already figured out a backup plan for you. You can take a gap year and try again next year.” I stared up at him. “Tomorrow is the SAT. Chloe needs her future, but I don’t?” My dad’s face hardened instantly. “Serena, you’re getting more and more selfish. Chloe has been fragile since she was a baby. Can’t you just let her win for once? Do you really want to see her collapse at the test center before you’re satisfied?” Chloe’s tears started flowing right on cue. “Dad, forget it. I won’t take the test. Serena always thinks I’m stealing things from her. I don’t want to owe her anything.” My mom looked panicked. “Don’t talk like that, sweetie!” Ethan pushed the door open, his face twisted in annoyance. “Serena, are you seriously throwing a tantrum right now? The whole house has been walking on eggshells around you all night. What more do you want?” I let out a bitter laugh. “Walking on eggshells around me?” He pointed at the agreement on the desk. “As long as you sign this and sit out the first section, nobody is going to make your life hard.” 2 I lunged forward to grab the manila folder. My dad slammed his hand down, pinning my wrist to the desk. “I’ll keep your documents safe tonight.” Before I could react, Ethan grabbed me from behind, pinning my shoulders. My dad snatched my ID and ticket. I struggled with everything I had. In the scuffle, the mug of milk tipped over, splashing across the desk. My mom’s first reaction was to pull Chloe back, shielding her. “Your sister has an exam tomorrow! Do you have to ruin this home before you’re happy?” My dad forced my thumb into the ink pad and slammed it onto the signature line of the agreement. He let go of me, looking like a man who had finally solved a tedious chore. My mom carefully folded the paper and slid it into the folder. Then, she picked up my clear plastic testing bag, peeling my name label off of it. She replaced it with a handwritten sticky note: Chloe’s Spare Supplies. I stared at those words, my hands trembling violently. Chloe took the bag and whispered, “Thank you.” I saw her fingertips resting directly on the photo of my ID card inside the folder. The next second, my vision went black. The dream came again. Serena Miller: Absent for Section

And next to it, a note from the test center coordinator: Reason: Candidate experienced a mental breakdown prior to the exam. Family requested a voluntary withdrawal. I snapped back to reality, gasping for air. Once they all left my room, whispering sweet comfort to Chloe, I turned on my old backup phone and made a call. By dinner time, the house was packed with relatives. Chloe sat in the center of the sofa. My mom had draped a bright red cardigan over her shoulders, claiming red was Chloe’s lucky color. The relatives crowded around, showering her with blessings and gifts. I was relegated to the dining table, tasked with writing “good luck cards” to hand out to the guests. My mom shoved a gold marker into my hand. “Make sure your handwriting is neat. Don’t embarrass us in front of the family.” I picked up a blank card. When I flipped it over, my fingers froze. The back of the card was a piece of my elementary school state piano championship certificate. I could still read the chopped-up text on the back: Serena Miller, First Place. I flipped through the rest of the cards. My piano certificates, my math olympiad honors, my middle school debate trophies—all of them had been cut up into palm-sized squares. These were the awards I had hidden away in my closet for years, too afraid to show my parents because they would accuse me of “stealing Chloe’s spotlight.” “Who went through my room?” my voice shook. The living room fell dead silent. My mom frowned. “They’re just old pieces of paper, Serena. Are you really going to make a scene over this?” Chloe’s eyes welled up with tears instantly. “Serena, I didn’t know they were yours. Mom just said you used to win a lot of things, and I wanted to carry a piece of your luck with me tomorrow.” Clara smiled and chimed in, “Oh, Serena, your sister is taking the SAT tomorrow. What’s wrong with giving her some of your luck?” I squeezed the shredded certificate in my fist. “This is mine.” Ethan sneered from the couch. “Yours? Every time you brought those stupid trophies home, Chloe ended up sick. You’ve held her down for years. What’s wrong with giving some of that luck back to her now?” My dad slammed his glass onto the table. “Serena, tonight is about bringing blessings to Chloe, not for you to settle old scores. If you’re going to keep acting like a victim, get the hell out of the living room. Don’t ruin your sister’s mood.” My mom snatched the shredded pieces of my certificates from my hands and stuffed them into Chloe’s purse. Chloe whispered, “Mom, will Serena be mad at me?” My mom stroked her hair. “She’ll just have to deal with it. She’s always had everything easier than you. She can handle one night of discomfort.” The relatives began writing their wishes on my ruined certificates. “Chloe will get a perfect score!” “Our golden girl will shine!” “Serena, make sure you don’t steal Chloe’s spotlight tomorrow.” The room erupted into laughter. 3 I sat at the table like a servant, handing out the cards. By the end, only one tiny scrap of paper was left. It was the piece with my name on it: Serena. As I reached for it, Chloe spoke up. “Serena, can I have that one too? I want to keep it in my pencil case.” I didn’t let go. Her tears fell immediately. “Fine, I don’t want it. Serena always thinks I’m taking things from her anyway.” My mom’s expression hardened. “Serena, do you really have to humiliate her in front of everyone?” I let out a hollow laugh. “Humiliate her? I’m the one being humiliated here.” My dad stood up abruptly, pointing a finger at me. “You think you’re the victim? Your sister has her future on the line tomorrow, and you’re throwing tantrums in front of our guests!” My mom shoved the gold marker back into my hand. “Write.” “Write what?” I asked, my voice cracking. She stared at me, her words cold and deliberate. “Write: I wish Chloe good luck.” I refused to move. Ethan walked over, grabbed my hand, and physically forced my fingers to drag the pen across the back of my ruined certificate. The gold ink dragged jaggedly across the paper. I wish Chloe a successful exam. The moment it was done, Chloe snatched it up and carefully slipped it into her pencil case. She finally smiled. “Thanks, Serena.” After the relatives left, the living room was a mess of torn red paper and trash. I went back to my room to grab my backup phone. I wanted to take photos of the shredded certificates and the forced agreement. But the moment I opened my phone, Chloe stormed in. She deliberately tripped over the desk chair, falling to the floor and sobbing hysterically. Ethan saw the phone in my hand, and his face darkened instantly. “You’re trying to take videos to post online? Serena, are you seriously trying to ruin this family’s reputation just to hurt Chloe?” Before I could speak, my dad grabbed my phone and spun the screen toward me. A video was already playing on a family group chat. In the video, I was reaching for my testing bag, and Chloe was shrinking back, falling to the ground and crying. The angle made it look like I had shoved her. Below the video was a message my mom had sent to my high school counselor, Mrs. Davis. “Mrs. Davis, Serena’s mental state is very unstable tonight.” “She has a history of extreme hostility and jealousy toward Chloe.” “If she acts out or becomes emotional at the test center tomorrow, please make sure the security staff restrains her so she doesn’t ruin Chloe’s exam.” Mrs. Davis replied: “Understood.” My ears buzzed. My dad swiped to another photo. It was the forced agreement with my thumbprint on it. “It’s written in black and white. You voluntarily signed this to delay your entry. You did this to yourself.” I lunged to grab his phone. Ethan grabbed my wrist and shoved me hard. My back slammed into the sharp corner of the wall. Pain flared through my spine, making my vision go dark. My mom saw it, but she only muttered, “Careful, Ethan. Don’t let Chloe see any blood. She has to focus tomorrow.” Chloe huddled in my mom’s arms, sobbing. “I really didn’t mean to hurt you, Serena. I was just scared nobody would believe me tomorrow.” My dad’s voice was ice. “Look at what you’ve driven her to.” He took my backup phone and used my face to unlock it. Right in front of me, he deleted every photo I had taken, and emptied the recently deleted folder. I screamed, “You have no right to delete my things!” My dad raised his hand and slapped me across the face. The room fell dead silent. He stared down at me, without a single shred of regret in his eyes. “I’m your father. I have every right. I won’t let you ruin your sister’s entire life.” My ears were ringing. My mom guided Chloe out of the room. She paused by the door, looking back at me. “Serena, I think I spoiled you too much. It made you think this family owes you everything.” They pushed me into the study room and locked the door from the outside. The room went pitch black. My phone was gone. My SAT ticket was gone. My ID was gone. I didn’t even have a piece of paper. I ransacked the dark bookshelves until I found an old dictionary. Tucked behind it was a nearly dried-up black pen. Without paper, I rolled up my sleeve and began frantically writing my student ID, my SAT registration number, and my test center details directly onto the inside of my forearm. As I wrote the final digit, I heard my mom’s voice outside, comforting Chloe. “It’s okay, baby. Serena is locked in. She won’t be able to get in your way tomorrow.” 4 On the morning of the SAT, it was pouring rain. My dad drove us to the test center. Chloe sat in the middle of the back seat, clutching two clear testing bags. One was hers. The other was mine. I sat pressed against the door, holding nothing but the dried-up pen from the night before. Ethan looked back from the passenger seat, his eyes warning me. “You better behave when we get there. If you make a scene, don’t think I won’t drag you back to the car in front of everyone.” When the car pulled up to the curb, there were only twenty-three minutes left before the gates closed. I held out my hand. “Give me my ticket and ID.” Chloe instantly clutched her chest. “Dad, I’m scared. My chest hurts.” My mom panicked. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Are you okay?” Chloe stared at the folder in my dad’s lap. “Can I please hold Serena’s ticket and ID? I won’t do anything to them. I just want to keep them under my desk. Knowing I have her things makes me feel safe. It calms my anxiety.” I raised my voice. “If she takes them, how am I supposed to get in?” My mom whipped around, glaring at me. “You weren’t supposed to take the first section anyway! You signed the agreement last night. Stop acting like you don’t know.” I met her gaze. “You forced my hand down to print that.” Ethan sneered. “Who saw that? You were the one acting crazy.” My dad pulled my SAT ticket and ID from the folder and slid them into Chloe’s bag. “Chloe, go inside first.” I lunged across the seat to grab them, but Ethan locked his arms around me, pinning me down. By the time Ethan finally let go, Chloe was already walking through the gates of the test center. My dad handed me the empty manila folder. “Go wait under the awning. Once the first section is over, I’ll get your ticket back from Chloe, and you can take the rest of the test.” He paused, refusing to look me in the eye. “This is for the good of the family.” My mom’s eyes were red as she added, “Serena, don’t push me. Chloe finally made it inside. Can’t you just let her finish one test in peace?” I didn’t say another word. I opened the door, stepped into the pouring rain, and ran straight toward the emergency registration desk. The test administrator listened to my story, her expression turning from confusion to alarm. “Your sister took your admission ticket and ID into the secure testing zone?” I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the ink numbers partially smudged by the rain. “My name is Serena Miller. I need a temporary identity verification.” The administrator opened her system. But the moment she pulled up my registration, her eyebrows knit together. “Wait, there’s a flag on your account.” The school counselor standing nearby leaned over to look, her face dropping. “Parental Flag: Candidate experiencing severe pre-test emotional instability. Family requests holding entry for Section 1.” Just then, Mrs. Davis, my high school counselor, ran over with an umbrella. “Serena, calm down. Your mother called me last night to explain your situation.” I looked Mrs. Davis dead in the eye. “Mrs. Davis, I am perfectly calm. My sister stole my ID and ticket, and my parents held me in the car to make sure I missed the first section.” My dad rushed over, slamming his hand onto the registration counter. “Don’t let her in! Her sister is already inside. If Serena goes in now and demands her ticket back, it will ruin the exam for both of them!” My mom followed, crying as she begged me, “Serena, please, just skip the first section. You’re smart. You can make up the score later. If Chloe collapses because of you, her life is over!” The speakers blared: “One minute until doors close. All remaining candidates please enter immediately.” The printer at the desk buzzed, spitting out a temporary admission slip. My dad slammed his hand over the paper. “Do not give it to her.” “I am her legal guardian, and I do not consent to her entering this building.” My mom grabbed my arm from behind, pulling me back with all her strength, sobbing hysterically. “Serena, I’m begging you! Just this once!” Ethan stepped in front of me, his voice a low, threatening hiss. “Serena, if you walk through those doors today, don’t ever call me your brother again.” Rainwater dripped from my eyelashes. I stared at the temporary slip of paper just inches away under my dad’s hand. I clenched my fists. Suddenly, a cold, commanding voice cut through the rain. “Let go of her!” Everyone froze. A middle-aged man in a dark trench coat walked over, flanked by two security guards. He glanced at my mom’s grip on my arm, then at my dad’s hand pinning my admission slip. “Who gave you permission to block a registered candidate from entering an exam?”

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