Category: English

Ever since I got engaged to Liam Sterling, my entire family has died in a series of bizarre accidents. My little sister went hiking and was stung to death by a swarm of hornets, her body covered in swollen, venomous holes. My dad slipped at his construction site and fell into an industrial stone grinder. He was ground into hamburger meat; there was barely enough tissue left to identify him. My mom suffered a massive, fatal heart attack while playing bingo. In just one short month, my entire family was wiped off the face of the earth. It wasn’t until the day of their joint funeral that I overheard a conversation between my fiancé and his ex-wife. “Three dead bodies isn’t enough for you? I’m begging you, can we just let Chloe go?” “What, are you falling in love with her?” His ex-wife’s voice was venomous. “Don’t you forget, you are the sole beneficiary of all those life insurance policies. That Rolex on your wrist was bought with her family’s blood!” My fiancé’s voice wavered. “It’s not that. Sometimes, leaving someone alive to suffer the grief of losing their whole family is a worse punishment. Let her live.” “On our wedding night, I’ll pay a few homeless junkies off the street to violate her. That should be enough.” It turned out my entire fairytale romance was nothing but a horrifying, calculated murder plot. Since he had such a special “gift” planned for our wedding night, it was only fair that I return the favor. I needed to prepare a massive gift of my own. 1 “You make a good point. Letting her live the rest of her life utterly alone, waking up to nightmares of her dead family… that does seem like better torture.” Audrey finally compromised. Hearing that Audrey was willing to spare my life, Liam’s eyes lit up. “Good. I’ll reach out to some thugs from the narrows and buy some roofies right now. I’ll get your revenge.” But before he could even unlock his phone, Audrey pushed his hand down. “I want them to watch us. I want her dead parents to see how much fun we’re having!” Audrey actually reached out and shoved the lid of my father’s casket open. She wasn’t even going to let the dead rest in peace! But as the casket swung open, it was completely empty. It wasn’t just Audrey who was shocked. Hiding in the shadows, I was stunned too. After my family died, I refused to let the morticians touch them. I had personally dressed them in their Sunday best and done their makeup. I watched them get placed into those caskets. How could they be gone? Liam quickly let out a lazy, arrogant laugh to explain. “I know how much you hate them, babe. So, a few days ago, I had their bodies secretly pulled, cremated off-the-books, and flushed the ashes down the sewer drain.” “Come on, every second of our time is precious. Let’s not waste it on dead people.” How dare he! I bit down on the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. My insides were boiling with a rage so violent I almost lost control and leaped out to kill them both with my bare hands. But I knew I had to endure this. Otherwise, the grand stage I was setting would collapse. For the entire night, I hid silently beneath the memorial tables, my heart feeling like a gaping, freezing hole in my chest. It wasn’t until they finally left that I crawled out. I used my bare hands to clean the disgusting fluids they had left on my family’s memorial portraits. I dropped to my knees and pressed my forehead hard against the floor. “Mom, Dad, Lily… I’m so sorry. I’m so useless I couldn’t even protect your rest. But it’s okay. I promise I will avenge you.” When I returned to our shared apartment, the unhinged monster from the funeral parlor had vanished. Liam was back to playing the perfect, grieving fiancé. Seeing me walk in, he handed me a heavy stack of accidental death and dismemberment insurance paperwork. “Chloe, paying for your family’s medical bills and the funeral was incredibly expensive. I’m completely tapped out. You’ve had such a tragic streak of bad luck lately, what if you have an accident too? If we get you insured, at least we’ll have money to cover your hospital bills.” Is that right? My eyes drifted down to the gleaming Rolex on his wrist, and then to the massive Tiffany sapphire sparkling on Audrey’s neck across the room. All of that was bought with my family’s lives. Noticing my gaze, Liam quickly tried to cover his tracks. “Oh, this watch is just a cheap knockoff.” “And Chloe, I didn’t mean it like that. I just want us to have peace of mind. You aren’t going to die! The worst that could happen is you end up paralyzed from the waist down and can’t have kids.” My family’s deaths were premeditated murders. The only reason he was so confident I would “only” be paralyzed was because he had already planned for a gang of men to destroy me on my wedding night. Looking at his shifting, expectant eyes, I let out a soft laugh, easing his tension. “You’re right. You’ve spent so much money helping my family lately. I’m clearly cursed. It’s smart of you to be prepared.” I happily signed my name on the dotted line. But as he excitedly examined the insurance policy, a dark, hidden smile curled on my lips. I had already planned everything for our wedding night. A few hours ago, I finalized a partnership with a man of terrifying wealth and power. He would help me strip away every ounce of wealth and glory Liam had stolen over my family’s dead bodies. And in return, I would marry him. 2 Audrey Hayes was a live-in housekeeper Liam had hired. It was only very recently that I discovered she was actually his ex-wife. That night at the funeral, Audrey had only pretended to agree to spare my life. In reality, she was deeply jealous of how much Liam seemed to care about my survival. Since the funeral, she had orchestrated several covert assassination attempts against me. Like the time I was walking out of my apartment building, and a heavy ceramic potted plant plummeted from the roof, aiming straight for my skull. Even though she ran away quickly, I caught a glimpse of her signature dyed red hair leaning over the ledge. Or the time I was driving on the highway, and a massive semi-truck suddenly swerved into my lane. The brakes had mysteriously failed, and the driver was in a total panic. But from a distance, parked on an overpass, I saw Audrey watching the chaos unfold. She even tried to repeat her old tricks, secretly shoving a live hornet’s nest into the backseat of my car. Three murder attempts. Three failures. I walked away without a single scratch. Because that powerful man was guarding me from the shadows. “My future wife is brilliant. Faking your signature on the policy to make her jealous and force her hand. We’ve collected all the evidence of her attempted murders.” Reading his text, the corners of my lips turned up. Failing to kill me out in the open made Audrey’s glares grow increasingly unhinged. She couldn’t take it anymore. She stopped hiding and decided to kill me right inside the house. She pushed me down the stairs, fracturing my leg. Then, taking advantage of my broken cast, she offered to help me bathe. She secretly sealed the bathtub drain with industrial glue and turned the water on full blast. She walked out, intending to let the water rise over my head and drown me. Outside the house, my protector could shield me. But inside, he had no idea what was happening. Watching the water level rise higher and higher, my heavy cast pinning my leg down, I thrashed wildly, desperately trying to pry the stopper out of the drain. But no matter how hard I pulled, it wouldn’t budge. Just as the water crested over my nose and I began to suffocate, Liam suddenly burst through the bathroom door. 3 He pulled me out and rushed me to the hospital. I was genuinely surprised he saved me. But when I woke up, he immediately made excuses. “Chloe, Audrey has terrible memory. She’s so clumsy, she didn’t do it on purpose. Please don’t be mad at her, she gets scared easily.” He had used those exact same words when she pushed me down the stairs. I turned my face away and didn’t say a word. Sensing my coldness, Liam awkwardly tucked the blankets around me, told me to rest, and left the room. But Audrey wasn’t going to give up that easily. A few days after I was discharged and resting at home, she laced my bowl of soup with liquid pesticide. I had barely swallowed a spoonful before Liam noticed the smell, slapped the bowl out of my hands, and carried me to the car, speeding to the ER. Even though it was only one bite, Audrey wanted me dead so badly she had dumped two entire bottles of poison into the broth. I went into shock. My organs began shutting down. While doctors fought to stabilize me, Liam paced frantically outside the ICU. Maybe God was trying to make up for my suffering, or maybe my sheer, burning desire for revenge was keeping my heart beating. I narrowly escaped death and woke up. When I opened my eyes, Liam wasn’t by my bed. I unhooked my IV and walked weakly down the hall. Turning the corner near the stairwell, I spotted Liam and Audrey. Liam was gripping Audrey’s wrist so hard his knuckles were white, looking like a brewing storm. “Didn’t you promise me you wouldn’t touch Chloe?! I already told you I was going to let her be destroyed on the wedding night!” Audrey let out a cold laugh and wrenched her hand free. “Liam, you really are falling in love with her, aren’t you?! Did you forget how my father died?!” A little over a year ago, my dad, a construction foreman, organized a strike. He brought a banner to the wealthy developer’s mansion, demanding the millions in unpaid wages owed to his crew. The protest made the local news. Crushed by the media pressure, the developer liquidated his assets and paid the workers. The very next day, the developer jumped off the roof of his corporate high-rise. My mind spun. That developer’s name was Arthur Hayes. But my dad was doing the right thing! He was fighting for his starving crew! Arthur Hayes chose to kill himself—what did that have to do with my dad? What did that have to do with my innocent family?! “My father was your mentor! He pulled you out of the gutter! When we got divorced so you could go undercover, you swore to me you would make her entire family pay in blood!” Audrey’s bitter, venomous voice shook Liam to his core, leaving him in a daze. Every time she brought up his debt to her father, Liam caved. A second later, he pulled Audrey into a fierce embrace. “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I raised my voice and didn’t consider your feelings.” “I was just angry! I’m angry that you divorced me and pushed me into the arms of another woman. In this entire world, no woman can ever compare to you.” As he spoke, Liam pressed his lips passionately against Audrey’s. “Let me handle everything, okay? Your hands need to stay clean. I have the wedding night perfectly planned. There will be thugs, and I tipped off the tabloid media. I will completely destroy her reputation. I’ll make her kneel at your feet and beg for mercy.” Liam’s sweet, intoxicating promises finally melted Audrey’s anger. She compromised. “Fine.” Then, they began to passionately make out against the stairwell wall. I had heard enough. I turned around and walked away, completely disgusted by their live show. 4 Perhaps because Audrey actually listened to Liam, she stopped trying to murder me. A few days later, Liam sat by my bed and tried to explain away the poison. “Chloe, Audrey really didn’t mean it. She thought the pesticide bottle was a new brand of liquid seasoning.” Even he must have realized how utterly ridiculous that sounded. But Liam truly believed I was a naive idiot, delivering the lie with absolute sincerity. He smelled heavily of whiskey, drunkenly gripping my hand. If it were the old me, I would have sarcastically ripped him to shreds. But this time, I softened my voice, making it sound sweet and vulnerable. “This is the third time she’s almost killed me. And you’re still defending her? Are you my fiancé, or hers?!” I was never the submissive type, so my sudden display of soft, jealous vulnerability caught Liam completely off guard. He loved it. Acting like a spoiled, jealous little woman made my stomach physically churn, but I knew it was only temporary. Liam’s heart melted completely. He pulled me into his arms by my waist, coaxing me gently. “I promise, I’ll punish her severely for you this time. I’ll make her stay up all night doing chores, how about that?” Heh. What a brutal punishment. But I didn’t care. I kept playing weak. “Is that really it?” I was deliberately leading him on. He was thoroughly drunk, and he started spilling secrets he never should have voiced. “Chloe, I’m so sorry, but I have no choice. Her father made me the man I am today. I have to avenge him.” “Audrey really isn’t a bad person. She’s just blinded by grief. She killed your three family members, but she let me keep all the insurance money.” … As he babbled on, his hands started wandering, clumsily trying to unbutton my hospital gown. My eyes went dark. I raised my hand and delivered a sharp, precise chop to the back of his neck. He instantly blacked out, slumping heavily onto the floor. I had learned that little trick from the man guarding me. Unconscious on the floor, Liam started mumbling in his sleep. I leaned in closer and heard him whisper: “Chloe… just endure the wedding night. It’s the last thing I owe Audrey. Once your reputation is destroyed… I’ll take care of you. We’ll live a good life together. No more lies.” He actually seemed to be falling in love with me. But my heart was already an icy tomb. Staring at the blinking red light of the digital recorder in my hand, my resolve was like stone. He wanted to start over and live a good life? Too damn late! I stepped out onto the hospital balcony and received a text message. “The wedding dress and the venue are completely prepped. Just waiting for your word.” I replied without a second of hesitation. “I just secured the final piece of audio evidence. Get ready to be my groom.” Time flew by. Soon, it was our wedding day. Liam’s eyes were darting nervously around the venue. He wouldn’t look me in the eye. He was feeling guilty. But my smile was radiant and genuine. What he didn’t know was that the water he had spiked with heavy sedatives for me… I had swapped with Audrey’s glass. He wanted me destroyed? Not in a million years! Right before the grand banquet was supposed to start, Liam led a horde of tabloid reporters to the bridal suite, ready to catch me “cheating.” They burst through the doors, aiming their cameras at the tangled, naked bodies writhing under the blankets. He opened his mouth, ready to shout his rehearsed lines of betrayal, and aggressively whipped the blankets back. But he froze. The woman groaning underneath the hired thugs wasn’t me. It was Audrey. At that exact moment, the traditional wedding march began blaring from the grand ballroom outside. If he was standing in the suite, who was I marrying? Panic seized Liam’s face. He turned to run, but Audrey weakly grabbed his ankle. “I’m ruined… and you’re just going to leave me?!” But Liam’s mind was entirely consumed by me. Without a second thought, he violently kicked Audrey away. He sprinted into the grand ballroom, only to see his beautiful bride walking down the aisle, her arm looped through another man’s. He screamed in terror, sprinting down the aisle to stop the ceremony. He grabbed my veil, ripping it back, and yelled frantically. “Chloe! Look at the man standing next to you! That’s not me!” He expected me to be shocked. He expected me to be terrified. But he was sorely disappointed. My face was completely calm. “I know exactly who I’m looking at. This man is my groom. He’s about to be my husband.” I tightened my grip on Carter Grayson’s muscular arm. Liam panicked, desperately trying to pry our intertwined fingers apart. “No! You can’t do this! Chloe, did he drug you?! You’re supposed to be marrying me! You designed this entire venue specifically for us!” “Just look at the banners outside! And look at—” Liam’s voice abruptly died in his throat. He followed his own pointing finger and stared. Nothing in this room belonged to him. The massive silk banners hanging from the ceiling boldly displayed the names of the Bride and Groom. But the Groom’s name was Carter Grayson. Liam’s eyes flooded with bloodshot panic. He charged at the nearest pillar, desperately trying to tear the banner down. “The event staff screwed up! Didn’t anyone notice they printed the wrong name?!” He was lying to himself, completely unable to accept reality. He thrashed wildly, but he couldn’t do any real damage to the immaculate setup. There were hundreds of custom banners and signs. He could tear at them for a day and a night and still wouldn’t make a dent. I knew Carter had done this on purpose. He wanted to announce to the entire world that I was his. But watching Liam act like a rabid dog was making me bored. I lazily clapped my hands. Instantly, dozens of heavily built security guards swarmed the aisle, pinning the thrashing Liam to the marble floor. No matter how hard Liam fought, he was no match for a dozen trained guards. He was pressed flat against the ground. I walked slowly down the steps of the altar, looking down at him from above. I shattered his delusions. “Liam, I wasn’t drugged, and the staff didn’t make a mistake. You’re right, I did design this entire venue. But from the very beginning, the groom I had in mind was never you.” Those words hit Liam like a bullet to the chest. “Why are you doing this?! So you never loved me at all?! You were just acting this whole time?! I loved you so much, I treated you so well! Why are you doing this to me?!” I genuinely couldn’t comprehend how Liam had the absolute sheer audacity to say those words. How he had the nerve to act like the victim. “Once upon a time, I really did love you. I loved you so much I wanted to introduce you to everyone I knew, my friends, my parents. But my love for you is exactly what got them killed!” “Do you have any idea? Ever since they died, I’ve laid awake every single night, disgusted with myself, wondering why my love was so filthy. It was toxic.” “I hate myself. I hate that I was so blind that I fell in love with a monster like you.” Hearing my words, Liam finally understood everything. All the color drained from his lips. “Since when did you know?” “Since when?” I pretended to think for a moment, then spoke slowly. “Did you really think I could ever forget? I will remember that day for the rest of my life. The day of my father, my mother, and my little sister’s joint funeral. I heard your conversation with Audrey.” “You and Audrey couldn’t wait to screw each other right in front of their caskets. It was their memorial, and you just had to defile it!” Liam didn’t say a single word in his defense. He knew it was all true. “But Chloe, I was forced! Audrey’s dad was my mentor! When she demanded revenge, I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing!” “But I deeply repented! I promised myself that after the wedding day, I would never lie to you again. I genuinely wanted to spend the rest of my life making it up to you!” Hearing his pathetic excuses, I let out a cold sneer. “Spend the rest of your life with me? You slaughtered my entire family, and you expected me to play house with you?!” “Audrey isn’t a bad person! There’s a reason she killed your family! The developer your dad drove to suicide was Audrey’s father!” Hearing him bring that up only stoked the raging fire in my chest. “My dad didn’t kill her father! Stop spewing your delusional garbage! My dad worked in construction his whole life. He treated his crew like brothers. He was a foreman, but he never looked down on anyone.” “When those millionaire developers withheld wages and his guys couldn’t feed their kids, my dad would empty his own savings to buy them groceries! Arthur Hayes withheld paychecks for an entire year! He owed them millions!” “That wasn’t a few bucks! It was millions of dollars! The workers’ families were starving! Men were committing suicide because they couldn’t pay rent! Do you think my dad wanted to go protest?! He was fighting for justice for his dead friends!” “Arthur Hayes didn’t have to jump off that roof! He was a coward who couldn’t handle the public pressure of his own crimes! You don’t get to blame my family for that!” By the time I finished screaming, Liam’s face was completely ashen. “I’m sorry.” At the very end of the line, that was the only useless, pathetic phrase he could muster. But it didn’t matter. I was going to make sure he paid the ultimate price. Yet, Liam still wouldn’t give up. He violently slammed his forehead against the marble floor, over and over, the sickening thuds echoing through the silent ballroom. “I know I was wrong! But I didn’t kill your parents or your sister! Audrey did!” “Chloe, I was wrong! Please, can you just give me one more chance? I swear I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll never hurt you again!” I was just about to tell him to rot in hell when Audrey suddenly appeared at the ballroom doors.

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To stand up for the fake heiress, my brother intentionally called out the wrong groom’s name at my engagement banquet. In front of all the elite families in New York, he announced that I was to marry a waiter working the event. The city’s high society pointed and laughed at me: “The great Miss Sterling is actually marrying a waiter!” I stood there, paralyzed by grief and indignation. But my brother showed no remorse. “That’s what you get for stealing Chloe’s thunder at the piano competition. She’s been upset for so long. Humiliating you today is just to teach you a lesson.” “She’s spoiled, stubborn, and doesn’t know any better. Don’t take it to heart.” “Anyway, it’s just a joke. Dad and I would never actually let you marry a waiter!” …… Everyone at the banquet was pointing and whispering about me. My brother cleared his throat, his expression unchanged: “That was just a little joke with everyone. Maya is still young. We’ll formally announce the engagement another time.” After he finished, he glanced at Ethan Hayes standing nearby. Originally, today was supposed to be the announcement of my engagement to Ethan. Everyone in our circle knew our families had arranged this marriage since we were kids. We grew up together as childhood sweethearts. My heart clenched instantly, quietly waiting for him to speak up. But Ethan’s eyes were filled with a casual, distant coldness, like an outsider. “Since the engagement has been announced, how can it be a joke? The Sterling family is highly respected; you can’t treat this kind of thing like a game.” “That poor waiter is probably overwhelmed and waiting. Surely the Sterling family isn’t going to make a fool of him in public?” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. My brother’s face grew even uglier. He looked at Ethan in disbelief: “What are you saying? I thought you loved Maya the most. Why would you say that?” Someone in the crowd couldn’t hold back a laugh: “Who in New York doesn’t know that Mr. Hayes prefers the Sterling family’s second daughter, Chloe! I heard he just bought her a limited-edition sports car yesterday to make her happy.” Every word was like a sharp icicle piercing my heart. My eyes suddenly welled up. I stepped forward and snatched the microphone from my brother’s hand. “Since this engagement has been announced, it’s certainly no joke.” “I will marry this waiter!” My brother’s eyes widened instantly, looking at me with absolute shock. “Maya Sterling, what kind of nonsense are you spouting?!” “You are the eldest daughter of the Sterling family! How can you marry a waiter?!” I looked at him apathetically. I let out a miserable laugh: “Arthur Sterling, isn’t this exactly the result you wanted? Are you happy now?” Arthur froze for a moment. His pitch suddenly rose a few octaves: “Maya, even at a time like this, you’re still competing with Chloe. Do you have any idea how much she’s already suffered…” I didn’t want to hear his defense of Chloe anymore. I dropped the microphone and walked off the stage. The crowd’s gaze followed me. As I passed Ethan, he grabbed my hand. His cold tone carried a hint of reprimand: “Maya, at a time like this, why do you still refuse to back down?” After he spoke, he pulled me a little closer, his voice softening considerably: “Stop being so stubborn. Why don’t you just give Chloe a proper apology? I’ll smooth things over today for the sake of our years together. There’s no need to gamble with your own happiness just because you’re throwing a tantrum.” I looked up and scoffed. “Our years together?” “Admitting you’ve changed your mind is better than this fake affection you’re putting on now. At least it wouldn’t make me sick!” His face went pale for a second. I shook off his hand and walked straight toward the waiter in the corner. My brother was completely dumbfounded, yelling from the stage: “Maya, don’t do anything stupid! Come back!” Ethan also looked at me, his hands clenched into fists. I acted as if I didn’t notice and asked softly: “Are you willing to marry me?” The waiter opened his mouth, a flicker of an emotion I couldn’t understand crossing his eyes. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice warm and clear: “Miss Sterling, I’m just a waiter. Are you sure you won’t regret marrying me?” “I never regret anything.” “Alright, I will marry you!” Arthur rushed over like a madman but was stopped by Ethan with a cold smile. “Can’t you see she’s doing this on purpose? If you go over there now, she’ll just bully Chloe even more recklessly in the future.” Ethan’s smile was freezing. “She’s convinced you won’t actually let her marry this waiter. She’s just forcing you to compromise!” “If you compromise, you won’t be able to do a thing when she bullies Chloe again!” Arthur’s movements stopped. I turned around and looked at Ethan apathetically. He and I were childhood sweethearts with an arranged marriage. When I was twelve, I was kidnapped, and they lost all contact with me. My parents were so heartbroken they couldn’t sleep at night, consumed by pain and guilt, until they adopted Chloe from an orphanage. She had a sweet mouth and gradually took my place in my family’s hearts. They treated her like the apple of their eye, pouring all the love that should have been mine onto her. A year ago, covered in injuries, I escaped from the compound and was finally brought home by the police. What I received wasn’t the joy of a lost child returning, but the guarded, distant looks from every one of them. They even comforted Chloe right in front of me: “Chloe, our whole family will love you forever. She could never shake your position.” I felt like I had been stripped naked in the freezing cold; my whole body went stiff. …… The news that the Sterling family heiress was marrying a waiter spread like wildfire. It quickly trended all over New York, with millions of people discussing it online. When I got home, I pushed open the door to see my dad pointing at my brother, yelling furiously: “This is absolute nonsense! Where am I supposed to put my face?!” My mom sighed. “What’s done is done. The best thing is to find a way to convince Maya to tell the public she was just being rebellious, throwing a tantrum against the family, and created this whole farce. That way, we can save the Sterling family’s reputation.” “I bet she only said she’d marry that waiter out of spite, and she’s probably already regretting it.” Chloe was crying tears that looked like rain on pear blossoms. “I’m sorry, Mom and Dad, it’s all my fault. Arthur was just sticking up for me because his heart ached for me. I never thought Maya would be so stubborn, disregarding the Sterling family’s face entirely.” My mom immediately softened, comforting her: “Don’t say that, sweetheart. Mom and Dad know you’re a good girl. You’ve suffered a lot since she came back. She only did this because she was furious. It has nothing to do with you.” My dad nodded too. “Exactly, this has nothing to do with you. It’s all Maya being immature.” “Don’t worry, your sister is just used to running wild out there. That’s why she’s fighting us like this. She couldn’t possibly marry a waiter for real.” As he finished speaking, my mom looked up and met my gaze. A deathly silence fell over the living room. If this were in the past, I definitely would have caused a huge scene, hysterically demanding to know why they treated me this way. But now, I was just too tired. I didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Or perhaps, I had completely given up on any hope for familial love. I no longer wished for even the slightest bit of affection from them. So, amidst everyone’s defensive glares, I went upstairs without a single expression on my face. A few days later, I met that waiter at a coffee shop. He had pre-ordered my favorite coffee and pastries, and even bought a bouquet of flowers, placing it next to my hand. I stared blankly at the roses, still holding drops of water, my heart inexplicably warming for a second. He looked at me with a gentle smile. Only then did I realize he was a young man with sharp, handsome features. He wore a well-tailored casual outfit; although I couldn’t recognize the brand, it was clearly very expensive. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Alexander Vance.” “I’m Maya Sterling.” Alexander’s movements paused slightly. “Of course I know. The Sterling heiress who should have been showered with love, but had her life stolen by a fake.” I abruptly looked up. For so long, everyone had told me to give way to Chloe, saying she had suffered a lot of “grievances.” But no one ever saw that I was the most innocent one of all. A moment later, I forced down the emotions in my heart and pulled out a check. “It’s not convenient for me to show my face. A wedding, a house, a car—whatever other people have when they get married, we need to have too. Use this to buy them. You can put them in your name. If it’s not enough, just tell me.” “We’ll get married in half a month, is that okay?” Alexander didn’t take the check. His gaze fixed on me, unreadable, his tone soft: “Miss Sterling, are you really not going to regret marrying a waiter with no future like me?” My heart sank. I shot back: “Are you scared?” Alexander froze. Then he let out a low chuckle: “Alright, I understand. I will definitely come marry you in half a month. Just like you said, whatever others have when they get married, we won’t lack a single thing.” He didn’t take the check. Instead, he pressed a velvet box into my hand, turned, and left. I opened the box. I stared blankly at the diamond ring inside. My heart felt as if it had been tightly wrapped by something warm and soft. When I returned home, the smiles vanished from everyone’s faces, and they all glared at me with dissatisfaction. My brother scratched his head awkwardly, stepped forward, and grabbed my arm: “Maya’s back, come sit down and try today’s cupcakes.” I gently pushed his hand away. “No thanks, I’m tired. I want to rest early.” Just then, my mom suddenly spoke up: “Wait, we have something to discuss.” I let out a self-deprecating, bitter laugh in my heart. It was as if I were just an outsider, forever standing in opposition to their family. Seeing no reaction from me, my mom continued: “Your stubborn tantrum at the banquet, insisting on marrying a waiter, didn’t just embarrass the Sterling family; it put the Hayes family in a very difficult position too.” “So we’ve discussed it and decided it’s better for your sister to get engaged to Ethan.” I slowly looked at Ethan. But he averted his eyes. I scoffed aloud. The last string in my heart finally snapped. My mom thought I had a problem with it and her face darkened: “Don’t be so unreasonable, child. If you hadn’t made such an ugly scene at the banquet, we wouldn’t have…” Before she could finish, I calmly interrupted her. “Sure, whatever you decide is fine. You don’t need to ask me.” “Congratulations in advance to my sister and future brother-in-law.” With that, I turned to leave without hesitation, never sparing Ethan another glance. I didn’t expect him to chase after me, his face stern. “Maya Sterling, how long are you going to keep this up? I had no other choice.” I lowered my eyes, staring at his hand gripping my arm. “Brother-in-law, is it appropriate for you to be grabbing me like this?” Ethan sighed: “Don’t be like this, okay? I know you’re angry, but can’t you just be good?” “I know everything you said earlier was just out of spite. You’re upset inside, aren’t you?” I looked up at him. Maybe I truly was devastated once. After all, I had always believed Ethan would never betray me. I believed in him as firmly as I believed the sun would rise every day. A year ago, when I first came home, my family rejected me. They indulged Chloe without any boundaries. Only Ethan. He would always be by my side when I was at my lowest. I thought he would never change towards me. I never expected that, in the end, he would still take Chloe’s side. His cold, harsh voice from back then still echoed constantly in my ears: “Look at yourself, acting so hysterical. No wonder your biological parents and brother love Chloe more.” “I’m really tired, Maya. Why do you always demand that I go against Chloe for you? The one time I didn’t say anything, you start suspecting if I’ve fallen for her. When is this going to end?!” “Fine, then I’ll give you what you want! I have fallen for her! Hopelessly in love!!” I felt like I had been slapped hard across the face several times, finally waking up in that moment. It turns out, from beginning to end, I was just an abandoned, despised obstacle. Ethan reached out and stroked the top of my head. His tone helpless, he said: “Stop making a scene, okay? We grew up together; I don’t want to see you in so much pain either.” “How about this? I’ll marry Chloe first to quiet the gossip. Later, I’ll buy you a house outside, and you can still be with me forever.” My eyes widened in shock, looking at him in disbelief. My heart felt like it was being violently torn apart by invisible hands, aching intensely. “Ethan Hayes, do you know what you’re saying?! You want me to be your mistress?!” He frowned. As if he didn’t understand why I was reacting this way. “Maya, being with me, even without the title, is better than following that waiter, isn’t it?!” “You’ve already sunk this low. What are you still being so stubborn about?!” I was finally, utterly devoid of any hope for him. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Get lost!” Half a month later, my wedding day arrived. Chloe also received news that she won an award in a piano competition. These past few days, my dad had deliberately suppressed the trending news about me. After all, no one would believe I was actually going to marry a waiter. But they didn’t know I was completely disillusioned with them and had no desire to stay in the Sterling family any longer. When I woke up, I heard Arthur downstairs saying: “Today we absolutely must celebrate Chloe properly. Keep it down, so Maya doesn’t start throwing another endless tantrum when she wakes up.” My mom hesitated: “Should we really not invite Maya? Will that look bad?” “What if she gets upset again and does something impulsive?” My dad was dismissive. “What could she possibly do? Let’s go, or we’ll miss the flight.” Chloe put on a show of being understanding and tried to persuade them: “If Mom is worried, why don’t we just bring Maya along?” Arthur clicked his tongue impatiently: “If we bring her, forget about celebrating, we won’t even be able to walk out the door!” My mom finally gave in. “Alright, then we’ll coax Maya when we get back.” I stood on the second-floor balcony, watching them all walk away. I turned and called for the nanny. “Martha, bring out my dress.” I never expected the wedding cars Alexander arranged to be a fleet of over a dozen Rolls-Royces. Not only that, but he had hired the most renowned wedding planning team in New York, perfecting every single detail. Candies were handed out to every car and pedestrian we passed. Various media outlets had received envelopes of cash from him and came specifically to congratulate me. Sitting in the car, I couldn’t help but wonder. He was just an ordinary waiter. How could he possibly have this much money? But thinking back to his noble aura when we met at the coffee shop… I belatedly realized that Alexander’s true identity was definitely not simple! After the Sterling family arrived at the airport, their flight was canceled due to extreme weather. Frustrated, the group had no choice but to head back home, fuming. As soon as they walked in the door, they noticed something was off. The yard was littered with the remnants of fireworks and firecrackers, and the servants all looked like they had something to say but didn’t dare. My mom frowned at Martha: “Where’s Maya?” Martha immediately broke out in a cold sweat and stammered: “Miss Maya… Miss Maya got married today… None of us dared to stop her…” My parents and brother stared with wide, shocked eyes. They yelled in unison. “Married? Who did she marry?!”

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Chapter 1 My mother took out a $50,000 high-interest loan, governed by the rules of the “KinKeeper” app, which stipulated that the child with the lowest “Devotion Score” had to pay it back. And because I missed her calls while working overtime, because I was too awkward to sweet-talk her… my score was always dead last. The weight of her debt was suffocating me. To fill this bottomless pit, I had to work three jobs a day. Eventually, the exhaustion broke me. I collapsed at a construction site. When I woke up, a nurse was speaking frantically: “Acute bleeding gastric ulcer. You need surgery immediately! Call your family to sign the consent form!” I struggled to dial my mother’s number. To my shock, a cold sneer came through the receiver. “KinKeeper’s rules are crystal clear. It costs 1,000 Devotion Points for a parent to authorize a medical procedure for a child. Do you even have that?!” “I only have 20 points…” I whispered, my entire body trembling from the agonizing pain. “Then you have the nerve to call me?! Have you ever done a single thing to make me happy since the day you were born? Raising a dog would be better than raising you!” “Rules are rules! If you don’t have the points, suffer through it yourself!” From the background, my younger sister Mia’s sugary voice drifted over: “Mom, we’re just waiting for you to take the family portrait!” The call was abruptly hung up. My phone screen lit up. It was an Instagram notification from my mom. The photo showed the two of them, smiling brilliantly and hugging tightly. The caption: “Happy Engagement! My most devoted, perfect baby girl deserves the absolute best!” The next second, I opened the app and clicked “Unbind Family Connection.” I didn’t care about points anymore. I didn’t want this family anymore. … A pop-up appeared on the app: [Upon unbinding from your family, all privileges will be terminated, and your score will be reset to zero. Confirm?] Privileges? Staring at that word, I felt an overwhelming sense of irony. The scoring rules for this app were entirely dictated by my mother. Growing up, if Mia ran up and gave her a kiss, the system instantly updated: +500 points. If I just wanted to talk to her about my day after school, she would shove me away impatiently. The next second, the system would rule that I was “harassing the parent” and dock me 500 points. When Mia threw a tantrum in the kitchen and brought out a charred, inedible mess, my mom would gleefully input: “A meal made with love by my precious daughter! +500 points!” When I scrimped and saved for three months to throw her a lavish birthday dinner, all I got was a scowl: “Wasteful and extravagant! -500 points!” I was like a blindfolded mule walking in circles; no matter which direction I turned, the whip would always strike my back. Because of this, my score was perpetually in the negatives, and that $300,000 total family debt was naturally squeezed out of my blood and sweat. With a self-deprecating smirk, I hit [Confirm] without a second thought. [Application submitted. Awaiting processing by other family members.] “Has your family arrived yet?!” The nurse pushed the door open, her tone urgent. “Your vitals are dropping. If we delay any longer, you’re going to die!” I stared at the ceiling, my voice completely calm. “I’m the only family I have. I’ll sign the papers myself, and I’ll take full responsibility.” The nurse looked at me, her eyes filled with a complex mix of pity and gravity, before giving a solemn nod. A few minutes later, I was wheeled into the operating room. I don’t know how much time passed before I regained consciousness to a dull, throbbing ache. The anesthesia was wearing off, and the surgical wound hurt like hell. Suddenly, my phone rang piercingly loud. It was my mom. “Hailey! Where the hell are you?! You’re ignoring my calls and texts? Have you lost your damn mind?!” Before I could explain, she exploded. “How dare you apply to unbind from KinKeeper?! Who gave you the nerve?! Revoke it immediately!” The wound flared with pain, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. But I didn’t tell her I had just gotten out of surgery. “From now on, Mia is your only child. Go ask her to pay your $300,000 debt!” “Bullshit!” my mom shrieked. “I knew you were an ungrateful little sociopath! Pulling a dirty trick like this just to dodge your debts?!” “Let me tell you something, you owe me this money! You owed me the minute you were born! Don’t think you can just unbind and walk away! You just wait!” Before she could keep screaming, I hung up. The pain intensified. I curled into a ball, trying to brace myself against the waves of agony. Suddenly, the door to my hospital room was kicked open. A burly man with a scarred, aggressive face stormed in and viciously dragged me right off the bed! I screamed as I hit the cold, hard floor. Agony instantly swallowed my entire body. The man towered over me, delivering a brutal kick to my side. “Playing dead, huh? Think you don’t have to pay just because you’re hiding in a hospital?! Susan’s debt for this month is a thousand bucks, principal and interest!” “If you don’t cough up the cash today, I’m going to make your life a living hell!” I used every ounce of my strength to prop myself up. “The agreement was that the child with the lowest score pays. I’ve already unbound from the app. You need to go find Mia…” “Unbind? Unbind my ass!” The man spat on the floor and shoved his phone right into my face. “Look closely! The first kid bound to your mother’s account is you! And she just docked you fifty thousand Devotion Points!” “Your score is off the charts in the red! If I don’t get the money from you, who else am I gonna get it from?!” What?! Fighting through the excruciating pain, I forced myself to look. On the member list, my name was still glaringly present, and my score had plummeted to a horrifying -50,000. Under the unbinding application, the latest status read: [Unbinding Failed. Reason: Primary Account Holder successfully appealed.] [Appeal Rationale: This daughter is grossly unfilial. Attempting to maliciously unbind to evade family debt and eldercare responsibilities is an abomination!] Chapter 2 I couldn’t believe my eyes. My entire body shook. The man snatched my purse off the nightstand, pulling out the few crumpled bills I had inside. “This is all you have, isn’t it?!” he glared at me. “Give it here!” “No!” I lunged forward, desperately hugging his leg, breaking down into hysterical tears. “That’s my medical money! If you take that, I’m literally going to die! Please!” “Die?” The man kicked me away so hard my surgical wound instantly tore open, soaking my gown in fresh blood. “Take that up with your mother! Why does your sister have hundreds of thousands of points while you’re sitting at negative fifty grand? Don’t you know why?!” “Ungrateful brat, you deserve to get struck by lightning! If you don’t have a thousand bucks for me by tomorrow, I’ll break your arm!” With that, he stormed out without looking back. I slumped on the floor, my vision going black in waves, and completely lost consciousness. I was eventually found by a nurse during her rounds. I had lost so much blood I almost died. She woke me up, her brow furrowed tightly. “You’re finally awake. We re-dressed your wound, but…” she handed me a slip of paper. “The room and treatment cost a thousand dollars a day. Your account is overdrawn. You need to pay the balance.” “I don’t have any money.” Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. The nurse looked sympathetic, but her tone was strictly business. “Hospital policy states we have to stop medication if the account is in arrears. You have three days to pay the balance, or we’ll have to discharge you.” “You need to figure out a way to contact your family, quickly!” Family? I shook my head with a bitter smile, only shedding more tears. When the room went quiet, I started making phone calls, trying to get an advance on my paychecks. I called the foremen from my two side gigs. For the first one, as soon as I said my name, the guy muttered “Bad luck,” and hung up. The second one listened to my plea, then coldly dropped a single sentence: “Our operation is too small to afford an unfilial monster like you!” When I tried to call back, I was blocked. Finally, I had no choice but to call Mr. Harrison, the boss at my day job. To my surprise, before I could even ask, he cut me off. “Hailey, don’t bother coming back to work.” My brain buzzed as if it had been struck. “Why? Mr. Harrison, I’m just sick in the hospital, I’ll be back as soon as…” “It’s not about that.” Mr. Harrison coughed awkwardly. “Hailey, you’ve worked here a long time, and I always thought you were an honest, hardworking girl. But how could you treat your own family like that?” “Like what?” My voice trembled uncontrollably. “Mr. Harrison, please tell me, why are you firing me?” Mr. Harrison was silent for a few seconds before speaking slowly. “Your mother printed hundreds of flyers with your KinKeeper score and plastered them all over the lobby of our office building. It spells out everything—evading family debts, driving your own mother to an early grave, neglecting your parents, constantly begging them for money…” “Your point deduction history is sickening to look at!” My blood ran cold. I could barely grip the phone. “Hailey, in this society, devotion to your family is everything. With a reputation like this, what company would ever dare hire you? Take care of yourself.” The line went dead. I lay paralyzed on the hospital bed, devoid of even the energy to cry. Right then, my phone rang again. It was my mom. “Oh, you’re awake?” Her voice dripped with the smugness of absolute victory. “You threw your little tantrum, but in the end, you still have to obediently pay up, don’t you?!” “Let me tell you something, Hailey. Even if you die, you have to pay off every last cent of that debt before you hit the grave! Otherwise, this is never over!!” Chapter 3 Tears fell like rain as I choked on my sobs. “Can’t you just let me go? I don’t even have money to save my own life anymore. I’m your daughter too…” “That’s a ‘you’ problem!” my mom snapped, her voice suddenly turning venomous. “If you dare let those debt collectors bother your sister, I’ll instantly drop your score to negative one million! I’ll make sure you can’t turn your life around in this lifetime or the next!!” The phone was slammed down once again. Driven to absolute despair, I opened the KinKeeper app and vented all my rage at the cold, lifeless AI customer service bot. “Why am I the one paying the debt?! Why doesn’t Mia have to pay a dime?! What kind of bullshit rule is this?!” I didn’t expect the digital idiot to actually respond. But the keywords triggered an automated reply. [Hello. According to our records, your associated family debt has been enrolled in the Joint Family Repayment Plan. This plan stipulates: Debt is allocated based on the Devotion Scores of family members. The member with the lowest score assumes the repayment obligation.] [Records indicate that Mia has made significant contributions to the family, placing her score at the top tier. Therefore, she is exempt from repayment obligations.] I laughed out of sheer fury, my fingers shaking. “Significant contributions?! She’s a parasite who hasn’t worked a single day since graduating three years ago, begging for thousands of dollars in allowance every month! What the hell kind of contribution could she possibly make?!” The AI replied swiftly: [System log: Last year, Mia invested $200,000 to found the flagship ‘Lumina Coffee Roasters.’ Primary Account Holder Susan rated this event: ‘My baby’s first business venture is Mom’s greatest pride.’] [This contribution has been verified and awarded Mia 2,000,000 Devotion Points.] Two hundred thousand dollars? Lumina Coffee? The blood in my veins flash-froze, a bone-chilling cold shooting straight to my skull. How could someone who spent her days partying and relying entirely on my paycheck possibly have two hundred thousand dollars?! A suffocating premonition gripped my heart. I closed the app and opened the State Business Registry database. Quickly, I found “Lumina Coffee Roasters.” The LLC registration stated it clearly: Owner: Mia. There were even articles online praising her as a shining example of a young, independent female entrepreneur. The opening date was exactly the same time last year when my mother had started frantically demanding money from me. When I couldn’t give it to her, she called me a useless animal and went to a loan shark. Instinct drove me to find the customer service number for that predatory lending company. I took a deep breath, mimicking my mother’s tone. “Hi, this is Susan. I’m calling about the loan I took out last year for my daughter’s business. How much principal and interest is left? Yes, for Lumina Coffee Roasters.” The few seconds of waiting felt like centuries. I bit my lower lip hard, praying frantically: Please don’t let it be what I think it is. Please! But the rep’s voice utterly pulverized my last shred of hope. “Ma’am, looking at the $200,000 loan you took out for a business startup last year… the contractual interest is $100,000. Currently, the remaining principal and interest total $250,000…” I didn’t hear whatever came next. I hung up the phone. And then, I laughed. I laughed until the metallic taste of blood coated my throat. So that was it. Family investments? Promoting filial piety? It was all absolute bullshit! The truth was that my mother had taken out a massive $200,000 high-interest loan to open a trendy coffee shop for her golden child, Mia. And then, utilizing the skewed rules of the KinKeeper app, she “rightfully” shifted the crushing $300,000 total debt straight onto my shoulders! Chapter 4 All hope had turned to ash. I opened KinKeeper again, attempting to apply to unbind from the family. A pop-up instantly blocked me, the bright red exclamation mark blinding. [REJECTED! Due to a history of maliciously evading family debt, your unbinding privileges have been restricted.] [To unbind, the request must be initiated by the Primary Account Holder, Susan. Please fulfill your filial duties and strive to improve your score.] Looking at those two lines of text, another wave of coppery blood rushed up my throat. Was I really going to be chained to this $300,000 debt until the day I died?! Just then, a nurse came in for her routine rounds. As she was leaving, a stack of medical charts slipped from her hands, the top one sliding near my bed. I instinctively leaned over to pick it up and saw the pathology report for the patient in the next room: Stage IV Gastric Adenocarcinoma. Stomach cancer. As I opened my mouth to call the nurse back, a sudden thought struck my brain like a bolt of lightning. The next second, I opened my camera, snapped a picture of the pathology report, and photoshopped my own name onto it. Then, I reopened KinKeeper. This time, I didn’t click unbind. I went to the “Family Mutual Aid” section, which featured a “Critical Illness Relief” option. I uploaded the fake medical report and added a message: “Mom, the hospital just diagnosed me with stage IV cancer. The doctor says I need to be admitted for chemo immediately, and it’s going to be incredibly expensive! I have no other options, please, I’m begging the family to help me…” I attached a photo of the hospital’s overdue payment notice. Next, came the waiting. Minutes ticked by. Finally, a familiar, booming voice echoed from outside the room, thick with undisguised fury. “Hailey! Get your ass out here! Begging for cancer money during the holidays?! What kind of sick game are you playing?!” “Your sister just got engaged, and you’re intentionally bringing bad luck to ruin our mood, aren’t you?!” The hospital door was kicked open, and my mother stormed in, breathing fire. Behind her trailed Mia, dressed to the nines, a look of pure disgust on her face. I coughed weakly, my voice barely a whisper. “Mom, I didn’t want this either, but the doctor said if I don’t get treatment, I might only have two months left…” Mia crossed her arms and let out a scoff. “Sis, where exactly is this family supposed to get the money for you to burn through? Mom needs to save up for me, to give her real grandchild the best of everything! Isn’t that right, Mom?” Hearing this, my mom glared at me with pure venom. “Let me tell you something, Hailey. This family isn’t giving you a single dime! Give up that pipe dream!” Mia immediately chimed in, her voice sickeningly sweet yet brutally cruel. “Yeah, Sis, can’t you just be a little understanding? Your score is already so far in the negatives anyway, keeping you alive is just an embarrassment to this family!” Watching them play off each other, my heart sank into an icy abyss, but my face displayed an even more profound sorrow. “Mom, I’m your daughter too. How can you be so heartless…” “Bullshit! I only have one daughter!” Susan snapped. “Hurry up and unbind! Whether you live or die has nothing to do with us from now on!” I struggled to speak. “Mom, my app restricted my unbinding feature. I need you to do it from your end…” Hearing this, Susan grew even more impatient. She quickly pulled up her app and navigated to “Remove Family Member.” A confirmation prompt popped up on her screen: [Upon removal, all of this member’s points will be reset to zero, they will no longer enjoy any family privileges, and they will automatically be absolved of all family debts. Confirm removal?] “Mom, are you really throwing me away?” I looked up through teary eyes, my voice trembling. “Shut up!” Susan’s finger slammed down on the screen without a millisecond of hesitation. [Removal Confirmed.] [Success! Member “Hailey” has been removed from the family group.] In that exact same second, the blood-red KinKeeper app on my phone turned gray. It displayed: Not bound to a family. The invisible shackles that had bound me for so long were finally broken. My tense nerves relaxed, and the corners of my lips curled into a slight smile. That expression didn’t escape Mia’s notice. She shrieked, “What are you smiling at?! You’re about to die, and you’re smiling?!” Before I could answer, the hospital door was violently slammed open once again. The vicious loan shark from yesterday was back. “Hailey! Did you think what I said yesterday was a joke?!” “I meant what I said! I’m breaking your arm right now!” I lay back against the pillows, facing the man’s murderous glare, and smiled radiantly. “Hey man, you’ve got the wrong person. My mom just officially removed me from the family app!” “Right now, the person who owes you money…” I raised my hand and pointed straight at Mia, whose face had instantly drained of all color. “Is her.”

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The name on the wedding invitation read “Maya.” It wasn’t forwarded to me by someone else. I saw it in our college alumni Facebook group—someone posted a picture saying they had just received Maya’s wedding invitation. The photo was taken casually, the invitation resting at an angle on a table. Crimson red with gold foil lettering. I saw the groom’s name. David. I stared at those two names for a very long time. David. My ex-husband. Maya. My best friend of twenty years. I scrolled up through the chat history. Several people in the group were offering their congratulations. Someone asked, “Is Chloe going?” Nobody answered. I checked my own message history again. No invitation. No messages. Maya’s profile picture sat quietly on the third page of my recents; her last message was from a month ago, asking to borrow a portable charger. My best friend of twenty years, marrying my ex-husband, didn’t invite me. I placed my phone face down on the table. And then, I remembered something. 1. The divorce happened a year and a half ago. Back then, Maya stayed by my side for an entire month. She took time off work, bought groceries, moved into my apartment. When I cried at night, she cried with me. “David is a piece of trash,” she would say, sounding even more hateful toward him than I was. “You deserve so much better.” She would put her arm around my shoulders. “Don’t look back.” I didn’t look back. I signed the divorce papers and walked away with virtually nothing—well, not nothing, but I gave up a lot. He got the house, he got the car, and I didn’t fight for my shares in his company. Maya told me to just let it go. “It’s not worth turning it into an ugly fight,” she had said. “Just start fresh.” I listened to her. Now, I was sitting in my rented apartment, looking at the photo of that invitation on my phone screen. Crimson red with gold foil. David and Maya. Wedding date: The 12th of next month. I put my phone down. Then picked it up again. It wasn’t because of the invitation. It was because of a specific detail. Someone in the group chat had asked: “How long have they been together? That was fast.” Someone else replied: “I heard it hasn’t been long. They only got together after the divorce.” After the divorce. I got divorced in March of last year. It’s been a year and a half. From getting together to getting married—a year and a half. Dating, meeting the parents, getting the license, planning the wedding—is a year and a half enough time? It’s enough. But it’s tight. Unless… it wasn’t just a year and a half. I started going through my phone. Not Maya’s messages—I went through my own. I was looking for a specific chat log. From January of last year. Two months before the divorce. That night, Maya had called me out of the blue, saying she just got off a late shift, asking if I had eaten and if I wanted to grab a drink. I told her no, I was waiting for David. He said he had a business dinner with clients that night. Maya had said, “Another business dinner? He’s been having a lot of those lately.” At the time, I thought she was just feeling bad for me. Now, thinking back on it, her tone wasn’t sympathetic. It was confirmation. I put my phone down and walked out onto the balcony. It was raining outside. I remembered another incident—New Year’s Day last year. My birthday. Maya said she couldn’t make it. “Stuck at work, can’t get away.” She posted on Instagram that night, tagging a high-end sushi restaurant, with the caption: “Treating myself after a long day of grinding.” I even ‘liked’ the post back then. Now, I really wanted to know what street that sushi restaurant was on. 2. I started digging through my old phone. It wasn’t a planned investigation. I just couldn’t sleep. At 3 AM, I was sitting on my bed, hugging my knees, thinking. And as I thought, I picked up that outdated phone, plugged it in, and turned it on. The text messages were still there. I didn’t go looking through Maya’s messages. I went through mine and David’s. January of last year. I got into a huge fight with David. It started because he threw out the braised short ribs I made, saying they tasted terrible. I had spent two hours cooking them, and he hadn’t even taken a single bite. I threw a fit, and he slammed the door and left. Maya came over the next day. She told me, “Don’t butt heads with him. All men are like that.” I said, “What gave him the right to throw it away? I cooked for two hours.” Maya replied, “Think about it, maybe you’re being too sensitive? It’s just a plate of food.” It’s just a plate of food. I actually thought she made sense back then. I kept scrolling. February of last year. The day before Valentine’s Day. I asked David what his plans were for Valentine’s Day. He said work was too busy. I vented to Maya about it. She texted back: “Don’t push him too hard, men are under a lot of pressure. If you don’t celebrate a holiday, you don’t celebrate it. It’s not a big deal.” Not a big deal. On Valentine’s Day, I stayed home alone, watched a movie, and ate instant ramen. Maya posted a picture of a bouquet of flowers on Instagram with the caption: “Who sent these? So mysterious.” I even commented on it: “Who is it?! Spill!” She replied with a smiley face emoji. Didn’t say who. I sat on my bed, turning the screen brightness all the way down. That bouquet. I had seen it before. I had seen it in David’s Amazon order history. Right before Valentine’s Day last year, he bought a bouquet of Ecuadorian red roses. $399. I asked him who they were for, and he said a client. I believed him. Now, I took a screenshot of Maya’s Instagram post and put it side-by-side with a screenshot of David’s Amazon order. The exact same day. The exact same flowers. I didn’t cry. I put the phone next to my pillow and turned off the lamp. I lay there with my eyes open in the dark. There was a water stain on the ceiling shaped like a hand. Around this time last year, Maya told me she didn’t think David and I were a good match. “You guys just have different values,” she had said. “You’re too exhausted,” she had said. “If I were you, I would have left him a long time ago,” she had said. Back then, I thought she was hurting for me. She was actually trying to push me out the door. I rolled over, facing the wall. There was a strand of Maya’s hair on my pillowcase. She had stayed over for a night last month, claiming she was fighting with her landlord. I had made her fish soup and put clean sheets on the bed. I didn’t brush the hair away. But I committed it to memory. 3. On the third day, I did something I never would have done before. I went and checked the credit card statements. Not mine, David’s. When we divorced, we were still using the same joint credit card account. He later switched his primary card, but he never canceled my authorized user access. I tried logging into the bank app—the password was still his mother’s birthday. He hadn’t changed it. I wasn’t explicitly trying to find something. Or rather, I just had to check. The statements were organized by month. I started looking from October of the year before last. October: One charge. The Ritz-Carlton. $568. David and I hadn’t stayed at a hotel in October of that year. November: The same hotel. Two charges. December: A different hotel, slightly more expensive, $688. Plus a charge at Saks Fifth Avenue for $2,380, categorized as “Jewelry.” I had not received any jewelry. I kept scrolling. January of this year—two months before the divorce: Hotels three times. Department stores twice. And one charge that read “Nobu.” Sushi. I clicked on the date of that transaction—January 1st. My birthday. The day Maya said she was stuck working late and couldn’t make it. The day David said he had a business dinner. A $568 sushi bill. Dinner for two. They were eating high-end sushi on my birthday. I put the phone down. Stood up. Walked to the kitchen. Opened the fridge. Grabbed a bottle of water. Unscrewed the cap. Took a sip. Then put it back. The water was freezing. My hands were freezing, too. I went back to my desk and kept scrolling. It wasn’t a year and a half. It was at least two years. The statements started showing these charges in October of the year before last. Back then, David and I hadn’t even started having major issues. Back then, I was making him dinner every night, doing his laundry, keeping his mother company. Back then, Maya came over for dinner once a week, always telling me, “Your cooking is amazing.” She wasn’t coming over every week to see me. She was coming to see him. I created a spreadsheet organizing his credit card charges by month. I opened the Notes app on my phone and logged them one by one. I wasn’t investigating. I was counting. Counting how many times they had seen each other over these two years, how much money they had spent, how many nights I had sat at home waiting for him to “get back from his business dinner.” Forty-seven times. Two years. Forty-seven transaction records. Hotels, restaurants, department stores, florists. An average of twice a month. Every single time, either he told me he was “working late,” or Maya told me she was “slammed at work.” When he was working late, Maya was slammed. When Maya was slammed, he was working late. Not a single conflict. Forty-seven times— That’s not a coincidence. That’s a schedule. 4. I started reverse-engineering every single thing Maya had ever said to me. It wasn’t hard. The chat logs were all still there. January 15th, last year. Maya: “Chloe, have you ever thought about whether you and David are actually incompatible?” January 15th. On the credit card statement, there was a hotel charge on January 14th. She had just seen him. The very next day, she came to convince me we were “incompatible.” January 20th. I told Maya that David had been coming home late a lot, and I wanted to check his phone. Maya said: “Don’t do it. Checking his phone will just damage the relationship. You have to trust him.” January 20th credit card statement: January 19th, Saks Fifth Avenue, $3,600, categorized as “Handbags & Accessories.” Trust him? Don’t check? Because if I checked, I would have found you. February 3rd. Maya: “Have you considered that maybe you’re being too controlling? Men need their space.” February 2nd: Hotel. Every single time. Every time Maya came to advise me to be “magnanimous,” to “let go,” to “stop sweating the small stuff,” there was a charge for her and David the day before or the day after. She wasn’t coming to comfort me. She was acting as a messenger. David was too much of a coward to ask for a divorce himself. He had Maya test the waters, soften me up, and convince me bit by bit to “let go.” Maya did it. And she did it perfectly. She would hold me every time, using the most sympathetic tone to deliver the most ruthless advice. “You deserve better.” — Translation: You leave first, so I can take your place. “Don’t fight for the company shares; it’s not worth turning it into an ugly fight.” — Translation: All of this will be mine later. “Just start fresh.” — Translation: I’m taking over your old life. I cross-referenced the chat logs with the credit card statements line by line. I took a screenshot of every matching pair. Arranged them chronologically. Highlighted the dates. Twenty-three pairs in total. From November of the year before last to March of last year, in those four months, Maya sent me twenty-three “caring” messages. Within forty-eight hours before or after every single one of those messages, there was a corresponding charge on the credit card. Twenty-three displays of concern. Twenty-three dates. Every time she checked in on me, she was sleeping with my husband. I saved all the screenshots into a new folder. I named the folder “2024”. I was calm. I realized I was incredibly calm. Not because it didn’t hurt. But because the initial shock of the pain had passed. Now, it wasn’t pain. It was clarity.

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1 After my boss left for a business trip overseas, our new female intern suddenly claimed she was pregnant with his child. Using the unborn baby as leverage, she made herself comfortable in his luxurious corner office and started laying down the law, acting like she already owned the place. “First, no one is allowed to eat their lunch in the office. The smell of any grease makes me nauseous.” “Second, every single one of you must serve me. When I give an order, it has to be completed immediately.” “Third, the AC is staying off. The hum of the condenser outside the window is giving me a headache and ruining my sleep.” “If you can’t handle these rules, you can all pack up and leave.” We walked on eggshells, terrified of angering her, yet she found ways to make our lives miserable at every turn. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I called my boss. I was ready to quit my job and scream at him, “Can you please come collect your pregnant girlfriend?! She’s running the company into the ground!” But my boss, sitting halfway across the globe, was absolutely furious. “Pregnant?! I’m a virgin, for crying out loud! What the hell are you talking about?!” …… I had just dropped my boss off at LAX and was planning to treat myself to a huge meal when my phone rang. It was a coworker. He lowered his voice, sounding frantic. “Assistant Taylor, when are you getting back?” I stuffed a piece of sourdough into my mouth. “Probably in half an hour. What’s up?” “You need to get back here ASAP! Chloe just announced she’s pregnant with Mr. Vance’s baby!” “And now she’s calling a meeting to set some new ground rules!” I was so shocked the bread fell right out of my hand onto the pavement. “Chloe?!” The intern who literally started yesterday?! I sprinted back to my car. “Don’t panic. I’m on my way.” I had to hand it to him—Mr. Vance really knew how to keep a secret. As his executive assistant, I hadn’t seen a single clue that he even had a girlfriend. Initially, I had wondered how Chloe even got hired. Based on her resume and experience, she was nowhere near qualified for our firm. Now, it all made sense. But still, he could have given me a heads-up! Ten minutes later, I walked into the office. Instead of working at their desks, the entire staff was gathered in Mr. Vance’s executive suite. They were standing in a semi-circle, hunched over, listening to a woman shouting orders. She was acting more arrogant than the CEO himself. I quickly pushed through the crowd. Chloe was lounging on the leather sofa, one hand resting dramatically on her stomach. When she saw me, her frown deepened. “Finally decided to show up? Do you realize the entire company has been waiting for you?” “You really think you’re a big shot, don’t you?” I quickly lowered my head and forced an apologetic smile. “Traffic on the 405 was terrible.” She cut me off before I could finish. “Your performance bonus for this month is gone.” I clenched my fists, gritting my teeth, but ultimately swallowed my pride and apologized. Just yesterday, she had been politely calling me “Ms. Taylor.” Now, her status had completely shifted. If I crossed her, losing my bonus would be the least of my problems. I could lose my job. Even though I could easily find another position, jobs with benefits this good were rare. I really didn’t want to lose it. Seeing that I had corrected my attitude, Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Since everyone is finally here, I’m going to lay down the new rules.” My coworkers stiffened, their faces turning pale. As I stood there confused, Sarah tugged at my sleeve. She leaned in and whispered, “Her rules are completely insane.” “Listen up, all of you,” Chloe announced. “I am pregnant. And I am carrying your boss’s heir.” She absentmindedly stroked her flat stomach. “Rule number one: lunch hours in the office are canceled. No one is allowed to eat anywhere in this building.” A collective gasp echoed through the room. I couldn’t help but speak up. “Chloe, everyone works really hard here. If they can’t eat lunch…” Before I could finish, she threw a cup of scalding hot water right at me. “Who do you think you are, calling me by my first name?!” “From now on, when you see me, you refer to me as Mrs. Vance!” My face contorted in pain from the burning water, and my body began to tremble involuntarily. Chloe let out a cold scoff and pointed a manicured finger at me. “Let that be a lesson to all of you. This is what happens when you disobey me.” Seeing this, my coworkers were so terrified they barely dared to breathe. “Rule number two!” She raised her voice, looking incredibly smug. “Every single one of you works for me. If I tell you to jump, you ask how high.” “Rule number three! Turn off all the AC units. The condensers outside are giving me a migraine.” This time, no one dared to argue. Not even me. The skin on my arm where the boiling water had hit was already turning red and swelling. “Did you all hear me?!” “If you can’t handle it, pack your boxes and get out!” With that, she shot me a deadly glare. The staff nodded frantically, respectfully assuring her they understood. After dismissing everyone else, she made me stay behind. Chapter 2 2 “I hear you’re my husband’s executive assistant?” I forced an awkward smile. “I mostly just handle his schedule and organize his documents.” She clearly didn’t buy my answer. “Massage my shoulders first.” I walked behind the sofa. “Is this pressure okay?” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Look, I’m not trying to make your lives difficult on purpose, but my husband said so himself.” “He said if I don’t establish dominance over you worker bees now, I’ll never have any authority later.” “But I imagine you don’t really have a choice, right? You need this job to survive.” “Besides, my demands aren’t exactly unreasonable.” She snapped her eyes open. “Are they?” I quickly shook my head, plastering a fake smile on my face. “Not at all! Not at all.” Looking at her tyrannical behavior, I couldn’t help but question my boss’s taste in women. Was he getting so old and desperate that he’d settle for just anyone? For the entire morning, she ordered me around like a personal maid. She took one look at the coffee I made her and threw the entire mug across the room in disgust. “How did you even get this job?!” “I asked for lukewarm! Do you not understand English?!” But I wasn’t listening to her screaming. My heart stopped because the coffee had spilled all over Mr. Vance’s desk. Right on top of the contracts he had just signed. I looked at the mess in sheer panic. “Mrs. Vance, we need those contracts in two days!” Even though I grabbed some napkins instantly, massive brown coffee stains had already soaked through the thick paper. Chloe glanced at me, her tone completely indifferent. “So they got dirty. Big deal. A stack of paper is nothing compared to the baby in my belly.” She suddenly barked at me, “Your sole focus right now is serving me! Do you understand?!” “You can’t even do the job of a basic servant right!” I swallowed my burning rage, my voice trembling slightly. “Mrs. Vance, these contracts are incredibly important.” “Can I take them outside and try to clean them up?” Thankfully, she nodded in agreement. But just as my hand touched the doorknob, she called out again. “Send two girls in here. My feet need a massage.” I bit my lip hard. “Okay.” The moment I stepped out of the office, I realized something was very wrong. It was hot. Unbearably hot! The entire floor of employees, who should have been buried in their work, were all doing the exact same thing. Fanning their faces with whatever folders or papers they could find. I stood there in shock and looked up at the central AC vents. It wasn’t just turned off. Someone had literally unplugged the main control panels. Everyone looked miserable, shooting me desperate pleas for help. Just as I was about to say something, Chloe walked out, holding her stomach. “Stop that right now!” Her sharp eyes swept across the room. “The whole reason I turned off the AC was to stop the noise from the machines outside!” “And look at you! You’re out here making a massive racket with all that flapping!” “Are you doing this just to piss me off?!” Instantly, everyone dropped their makeshift fans. Looking embarrassed and terrified, they quickly shook their heads and muttered apologies. “But you’ve already pissed me off!” Chapter 3 3 Chloe glared at me resentfully. “How are you even an executive assistant? You have zero management skills.” Before I could defend myself, she pointed her finger, randomly selecting several employees like a dictator choosing targets. “You. You. And you. Stand up.” “Start doing squats. Two hundred of them!” “What?!” The selected employees looked visibly angry, but tried to reason with her politely. “Mrs. Vance, we—” “Three hundred!” Seeing Chloe relentlessly raise the stakes, they didn’t dare speak again. They immediately started doing squats. She clapped her hands and turned to look at me. “The reason they are being punished is because they were fanning themselves too aggressively and making too much noise.” I followed her gaze. The punished employees were dripping with sweat. They were panting heavily, looking utterly miserable. “Now, you need to do five hundred squats!” I pointed at myself in pure disbelief. “Me?!” She smirked mockingly. “You failed to manage your subordinates. You bear the most responsibility.” Suddenly, her face darkened. “Are you going to start or not?!” I didn’t dare hesitate. I put my hands behind my head and squatted down. She leisurely addressed the rest of the sweaty office. “Is it hot? Are you guys hot?” “I don’t feel hot at all.” Hearing that, I wanted to curse her entire bloodline to hell. Of course she wasn’t hot! She had a personal AC unit running at 65 degrees in the executive suite, wrapped in Mr. Vance’s silk blanket! Why would she feel hot?! But I only dared to scream those words in my head. Chloe pulled up a chair and sat down comfortably. “The baby in my belly—your boss’s heir—is hungry!” She tapped her manicured nails rhythmically against the armrest. “What should we eat?” “I know. I want the bird’s nest soup from that place in Pasadena.” “And the shrimp noodles from that spot in Santa Monica.” Having delivered her demands, she patted my shoulder. “Thanks for your hard work, Assistant Taylor.” “It’s mostly because the baby is craving it…” With that, she slowly sauntered back into the executive suite. The second the door clicked shut, the entire staff let out a collective sigh of relief. But a moment later, the door yanked open again, and she poked her head out. “Send two women in to massage my legs.” “Actually, make it four. They need to do my feet too.” Slam. She shut the door again. Everyone turned to look at me, their faces twisted in agony. “Assistant Taylor… what do we do now?” One of the girls doing squats burst into tears. “I have a contract I need to send to a client this afternoon!” “What am I going to do?!” I was panting heavily, checking the time. Mr. Vance was currently mid-flight. Calling him was impossible. “Just hold on a little longer, guys. The boss lands at 4:00 PM.” “I’ll report everything to him as soon as he lands.” After all, I was the biggest victim here! Chapter 4 4 By the time I finished the squats, I felt like I had lost half my life. If I hadn’t grabbed onto a nearby desk, I would have collapsed onto the floor. But remembering Chloe’s threats, I didn’t dare waste a second. I practically crawled to my car in my sweat-soaked clothes to go buy her food. During the drive, I cursed the entire way. I cursed Chloe, and I cursed my boss right alongside her. When I finally got back with the food, I noticed the employees massaging her legs had been swapped out for a fresh batch. I carefully placed the takeout containers in front of her. She pouted, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Running around all morning must have been exhausting.” She patted the sofa next to her. “Why don’t you sit down?” Seeing her sickeningly sweet smile, a wave of dread washed over me. The exact second I sat down, Chloe grabbed the container of scalding soup and dumped it directly over my head. Before I could even react, she dumped the container of noodles right on top of it. I jumped up violently. “What the hell are you doing?!” She glared at me with pure venom. “And you call yourself my husband’s assistant?!” “Didn’t anyone teach you to be incredibly careful when serving a pregnant woman?!” “This food is ice cold! I wouldn’t even feed this to a stray dog!” She grabbed the empty containers and threw them at me. “Go back and buy it again!” At this point, I smelled like a horrifying concoction of things. Body odor, seafood soup, and garlic noodles all mixed together. Seeing that I wasn’t moving, she scowled. “Did you hear what I said?!” “Do you want me to fire you right now?!” I clenched my fists, wiping the greasy broth out of my eyes. Then, I bent down, scooped up a massive handful of the noodles from the floor, and smashed them directly into her face. I pried her jaw open with my fingers. “I fucking quit!” Having finally snapped, I felt an incredible wave of relief. Chloe choked on the noodles, her face turning bright red. She leaned heavily against the sofa, clutching her throat. A few noodles were literally hanging out of her nose. “You!” “Just you wait! I’m going to make my husband fire you!” I smoothed down my messy hair. “I’ll be waiting.” With that, I spun on my heel and marched out of the office. Sarah saw my disastrous state and looked heartbroken. As she helped pick the noodles out of my hair… She pointed a trembling finger toward Emily. “Emily’s ulcer flared up, and she actually threw up blood earlier.” I was horrified. “Why didn’t anyone take her to the hospital?!” Sarah burst into tears. “Chloe wouldn’t let us! She said being short-staffed would hurt the company’s productivity!” I rushed over to Emily. She was deathly pale, her hair matted with sweat, curled into a tight ball on the floor. “Assistant Taylor, I…” “We’re going to the hospital!” Sarah and I immediately lifted Emily up. Several other coworkers rushed over to help us carry her. After getting Emily safely admitted to the ER, I drove back to the company. By the time I arrived, the office was in utter chaos. The breakroom had been completely trashed. The microwave was smashed into several pieces. Sarah told me that Chloe was currently taking a shower in the CEO’s private bathroom. And she was planning to ‘deal with me’ the second she got out. I pulled out my phone. It was 4:30 PM. The boss had just landed. She wants to fire me?! I already quit! Furious, I dialed Mr. Vance’s personal number. “What kind of psycho girlfriend did you find?! Are you going blind in your old age?!” “Can you please come collect your psychotic fiancé?!” “Someone like Chloe is going to run your company into the ground!” “Just wait for bankruptcy! Oh, and by the way, I quit!” There was dead silence on the other end of the line. For a second, I thought the call had dropped. Finally, Liam Vance roared into the receiver. “Taylor, are you out of your mind?!” “What kind of garbage are you spouting?!” “I am a complete, untouched virgin! What the hell do you mean I have a girlfriend?!”

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My husband’s female “bro” came over to hang out at our house. She said she really missed the feeling of sleeping bare-bottomed with my husband when they were kids, and asked me to give up the master bedroom so they could relive their “brotherly bond.” I refused with a dark expression and warned them that they were adults now and needed to know their boundaries. His “bro” immediately hooked her arm around my husband’s neck and complained. “Danny, daddy’s gotta say, you can’t even keep a woman in line. All this nagging is a real embarrassment to men everywhere!” Feeling like he had lost face, my husband forcibly sent me to a “Good Wife Academy,” saying he was going to teach me how to be obedient. But what he didn’t know was that this “Good Wife Academy” was actually an illegal, underground human experimentation facility. My body was surgically altered, and a command chip was implanted in my brain. I was turned into an emotionless puppet that only knew how to obey orders. While he and his “bro” were fooling around in the house, I obediently kept watch outside the door all night. When his “bro” told me to do a striptease, I stripped myself completely naked without hesitation. When he angrily told me to go die, I immediately jumped out of our eighth-floor window. Later, he knelt crying by my hospital bed, begging me to turn back into the person I used to be. Daniel carried me out of the Good Wife Academy. Mia took one look at me and reached straight for Daniel’s crotch. “Danny, it’s only been a month and you already brought her back. Couldn’t hold in that little bit of meat down there, huh?” Looking like he was completely used to this, Daniel caught her hand. “The headmaster said Chloe is ready to graduate. He guaranteed she’ll be completely obedient to me from now on.” Mia’s eyes roamed over my body, a playful smirk on her lips. “Oh really? I’m gonna have to test that.” She stuck a foot out toward me. “Sister-in-law, my shoe is dirty. Clean it for me.” Receiving the command, I immediately responded: “Yes, Miss Mia. I will clean your shoe.” I crouched down and used the clean sleeve of my own shirt to wipe her shoe, stroke by stroke. Surprise flashed in Mia’s eyes, and then she ordered: “Do it on your knees. It gets cleaner that way.” Without hesitation, I dropped to both knees in front of her. Daniel frowned involuntarily. “Alright, that’s enough. Chloe is still my wife, is it really appropriate to have her kneel to you?” Mia giggled. “Don’t I always tell you to get on your knees and lick my feet when we’re joking around? Who knew your wife was so literal that she’d actually do it!” With just a few words, Mia shifted the blame onto me. Daniel’s face darkened as he spoke to me: “Mia is just joking with you, can’t you tell? Get up right now!” I immediately stood up from the floor, staring straight at him, waiting for his next command. Daniel looked at my dust-covered sleeves and pants, saying in displeasure: “I just washed the car today, and you make yourself look like a beggar. Are you purposely trying to piss me off?” I shook my head. “No, Husband. Miss Mia told me to kneel and clean her shoe.” Daniel looked at me impatiently. “I think you’re doing this on purpose. Fine, then don’t ride in my car. Walk back yourself!” I immediately replied: “Yes, Husband.” I turned around and started walking along the sidewalk. A 30-mile journey. I walked for 16 straight hours. By the time I got home, my feet were blistered and bleeding. At that moment, Daniel was pinning Mia down on the living room sofa, messing around. Seeing me, a flicker of guilt crossed his face, but he quickly went on the offensive and interrogated me: “Chloe, where the hell have you been fooling around? Why are you only getting back now?” I was just about to open my mouth to say I wasn’t fooling around, that I had just finished walking back. But he waved his hand impatiently. “Forget it, I don’t want to hear your excuses. Hurry up and cook, Mia and I are starving.” Mia, acting like the lady of the house, started ordering dishes. “Sister-in-law, I want sweet and sour ribs, shrimp with corn, and steamed bass.” I walked into the kitchen to prepare dinner for the two of them. The dried blood on my feet stuck to my shoes, sending waves of stinging pain, but I didn’t even have a moment to tend to them. At the dinner table, Mia held up a glass of vodka and offered it to me. “Sister-in-law worked hard cooking. I toast this glass to you.” She said she was toasting me; she didn’t issue a command. So I just stared blankly at the glass of liquor in front of me and didn’t move. Mia immediately started speaking sarcastically: “Looks like Sister-in-law is still holding a grudge against me! Danny, your woman isn’t giving daddy any face!” Daniel yelled at me: “Don’t you know basic table manners? When someone offers a toast, how can you not drink? Hurry up and drink it.” I picked up the glass and downed it in one gulp without hesitation. I hadn’t eaten a single grain of rice all day. Drinking such strong liquor so suddenly made my stomach immediately spasm in pain, and a groan of agony unconsciously escaped my lips. Daniel kicked me. “Chloe, you’re purposely trying to ruin my mood today, aren’t you! If you don’t want to eat, get the hell out!” My body moved before my brain could process. Clutching my spasming stomach, I crawled out of the house step by step. Mia, holding her glass, joked from the side: “Danny, you’re being a little unchivalrous here! Even though women are like clothes, she’s still your wife!” Daniel glared at me. “Ever since she got out of that Good Wife Academy, she’s been throwing tantrums at me. Who spoiled her to be like this? Ignore her!” Beads of cold sweat rolled down my forehead. I trembled, curled up in a ball at the front door. From inside, I could intermittently hear Daniel and Mia laughing, messing around, and letting out ambiguous moans and squeals. Exhausted and starving all day, I couldn’t hold on any longer. My vision went black, and I passed out. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Daniel was looking at me with a mix of worry and anger. “Chloe, are you really that stubborn? You’d rather starve and pass out at the door than come inside and give in to me?” I looked at him and said calmly: “You told me to get out. You didn’t tell me to come back in.” Daniel was stumped for a moment, his attitude softening slightly. “Chloe, stop throwing a fit. Mia and I grew up running around bare-bottomed together, we’re bros. If there was ever going to be anything between us, do you think there’d be any room for you?” “Between bros, face is everything. Why are you so petty, insisting on disrespecting me in front of her? Sending you to that academy was just to teach you a lesson, to let you know you were wrong.” He said so much, but all I understood was that he said I was wrong. So I immediately responded: “I was wrong.” Hearing my apology, Daniel finally nodded in satisfaction. “Fine. Since you know you were wrong, we’ll let this go. Let’s just live a good life from now on.” I nodded mechanically. “Live a good life.” The next day, Daniel and Mia came together to pick me up from the hospital. While Daniel went to handle the discharge billing, Mia looked at me with disdain. “I really hate you pick-me girls. All you know how to do is act weak and pitiful in front of men, like you can’t survive without one.” “I’ll make Danny understand that only our brotherly bond is the most reliable thing. A clinging vine like you is just a dispensable decoration.” She threw harsh words at me for a long time, but seeing me stand there without a single extra expression, she got even more furious. When Daniel walked over, she grabbed him in a headlock, pressed his head against her chest, and started making dirty jokes like nobody else was around. “Are daddy’s boobs soft? When we played house as kids, you even said you wanted to suck daddy’s milk! How about a taste now?” Daniel unceremoniously grabbed her chest twice. “What are you talking about! My wife is watching!” Mia deliberately looked at me and said provocatively: “Sister-in-law is much more generous now. This is just us bros messing around, I don’t think she’ll mind.” Daniel looked at me, carrying a faint expectation in his eyes. I said with a blank expression: “I don’t mind.” Daniel’s face instantly darkened. He glared at me, turned around, and walked out. That night, Mia said she wanted to celebrate my discharge and specifically organized a party for everyone to go out and have some fun. Inside the dim VIP room, men and women gathered together, drinking and telling dirty jokes. Only I sat in the corner, my back ramrod straight, not saying a word. Mia forcefully pulled me over. “Sister-in-law, sitting there alone is so boring! Come play Truth or Dare with us.” I nodded and responded: “Yes, Miss Mia.” The Truth or Dare spinner pointed to Mia, instructing her to choose someone in the room to french kiss for one minute. Mia reached out and yanked Daniel over. Daniel instinctively looked at me. Mia looked at me and said: “It’s just a game. Sister-in-law definitely won’t mind. She might even lead the applause for us!” Receiving the command, my hands immediately started clapping unconsciously. The room erupted in cheers. “Sister-in-law, so generous!” “Sister-in-law, you rock!” A look of anger flashed across Daniel’s face, but he wrapped his arms around Mia and started kissing her. I stared blankly at the scene of the two of them kissing, but dull waves of pain radiated from my chest. The next round began, and this time the spinner pointed to me, instructing me to perform a striptease in front of everyone. Mia looked at me with a mocking smile. “Danny always said Sister-in-law has a great body. Now I finally have the chance to feast my eyes.” I stood up and reached out to unbutton my shirt. The jacket fell. Just as I was about to continue taking off my inner shirt… Daniel grabbed my hand. “Enough. This is just a joke. Are you really going to strip completely naked in front of all these people?” I looked at Daniel somewhat dazedly. Because there was no clear command, I didn’t know if I should continue stripping right now. Just then, Mia drawled: “Danny, we’re all bros here. Since Sister-in-law is willing to strip, what’s the harm in letting us look!” Everyone present loved a good show, and they immediately started chanting at me: “Strip! Strip! Strip!” I shook off Daniel’s hand and, without hesitation, took off my inner shirt. A wave of whistles echoed through the room instantly. I lowered my head, about to continue taking off my pants. Daniel rushed up and slapped me hard across the face. “Chloe, you’re such a slut! Just to spite me, you’d rather strip naked in front of all these people?” I was knocked to the ground. Sharp pain flared in my cheek, and blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. Furious, Daniel threw his own jacket over me and kicked me twice. “Aren’t you just blaming me for sending you to that Good Wife Academy?! Ever since you came back, you’ve been passive-aggressive and fighting me at every turn!” “Today I’m going to teach you a good lesson. I’ll make you realize who exactly wears the pants in this house!” I curled up on the floor, feeling the pain radiating from all over my body, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do right now. Finally, someone couldn’t watch anymore and stepped forward to pull Daniel back. “Alright, Danny. We took the joke too far just now. We were the ones who told her to strip, she was just trying not to ruin the vibe.” Daniel looked at me, highly emotional, and roared: “At the end of the day, she’s just a loose, cheap slut! People tell her to strip, and she strips! Then why doesn’t she go die when I tell her to!” Receiving the new command, I immediately crawled up from the floor. “Yes, Husband.” I quickly walked over to the balcony, pushed open the window, and climbed onto the ledge. Everyone was stunned. The emotion in Daniel’s eyes shifted from anger to terror. “Chloe, what are you doing!” I stood on the eighth-floor ledge, looking down, without a trace of fear in my eyes, and answered flatly. “I am going to die.” After saying that, I jumped without a moment’s hesitation. The wind roared in my ears, and behind me, Daniel screamed heart-wrenchingly. With a loud bang, I crashed onto the roof of a car parked below. Thanks to the car breaking my fall, I wasn’t smashed to a pulp. But I suffered multiple bone fractures all over my body and passed out from a severe concussion. When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages. Daniel was sitting beside me, his hair disheveled, his eyes bloodshot. His clothes were speckled with blood. Seeing me open my eyes, he leaned in anxiously, wanting to touch me, but then tremblingly pulled his hand back. “Chloe, you scared me to death. Even if you’re mad at me, you can’t joke around with your own life…” I propped myself up against the mattress with my hands, trying to sit up. Noticing my movement, Daniel immediately asked: “What’s wrong? Do you need to use the bathroom? I’ll call the nurse right away.” I said calmly: “You told me to go die. I haven’t died yet. I need to go die.” Daniel froze completely, his voice laced with terror. “Chloe, what’s wrong with you? Don’t scare me.” Enduring the excruciating pain, I tried to climb out of bed. “I’m not scaring you. I just need to go die!” Hearing this, Daniel panicked even more and hurriedly hugged me. “Chloe, stop it. I only said that in anger. I don’t want you to die, I want you to live a good life.” The new command contradicted the previous one, so the new command became the protocol. I relaxed my body and lay calmly on the bed. “Yes, Husband. I will live a good life.” Daniel told me to lie in bed and rest properly, so I immediately closed my eyes. He quickly ran out in a panic to find a doctor, his voice trembling as he explained my situation. “Doctor, my wife has become so strange. She listens to whatever I say. I told her to go die, and she jumped off the building.” “She wasn’t like this before. Is she sick? Please, I beg you, you have to cure her…” The doctor pressed down on Daniel’s shoulder, motioning for him to calm down. Then he pulled out an examination report, looked at him, and asked: “Has Mrs. Davis undergone any cranial surgery recently? We found a surgical incision on the back of her head.” “And from this CT scan, we can confirm there is indeed a 2mm metallic foreign object in Mrs. Davis’s brain.” “The abnormal behavior you mentioned might be related to this object.” Daniel immediately shook his head. “No, my wife has always been healthy. She’s never had any…” Suddenly, his voice cut off. He remembered sending me to the Good Wife Academy recently, and how I had become abnormal right after coming out of there. Plus, when he went to pick me up, the headmaster had confidently assured him that I would be completely obedient to him from then on. Daniel suspected that I had been subjected to something in there that turned me into this, and immediately chose to call the police. Under the police investigation, the truth quickly came to light. The headmaster of the Good Wife Academy, Richard Zhang, was a medical research fanatic obsessed with human brain modification experiments. He had even tried to use his position as a researcher to secretly experiment on severely ill patients. After the research institute found out, they kicked him out. After being expelled, Richard used his entire life savings to create this Good Wife Academy. The students he recruited were his test subjects. And I was his very first test subject. After succeeding with me, Richard quickly wanted to target others, but before he could, he was arrested by the police. Daniel rushed forward and punched Richard hard. “You animal! How dare you experiment on my wife! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” The police quickly pulled the two apart. Richard wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, not believing for a second that he had done anything wrong. “You sent your wife to me to make her obedient, didn’t you? Isn’t she obedient now? She listens to your every word and will never disobey you again. Isn’t that a good thing?” Daniel cursed wildly: “Good my ass! I want a living, breathing human being, not an obedient puppet!” “If my wife can’t return to normal, I swear you’ll pay with your life!” Richard tilted his head back and laughed maniacally. “You were the one who handed your wife over to me. You were the one who wanted her to be obedient.” “If I’m a murderer, then you’re my biggest accomplice!” Those words struck Daniel like a precision bullet. His entire body’s strength seemed to drain away instantly, and he almost collapsed to the floor. He realized Richard was right. He himself was the main culprit who caused me to turn into this. Watching Richard be handcuffed and taken away in a police car. Daniel looked like he had lost his soul as he slowly returned to the hospital and walked over to my bed. He looked at my battered and bruised body, raising his hand to gently hold mine. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have forced you into that Good Wife Academy just to save face for a moment.” I kept my eyes open, looking at him coldly, just like looking at a stranger. Daniel was stung by my gaze and dropped straight to his knees beside my bed. “Chloe, this is all my fault. You can curse me, hit me, whatever. Just please don’t look at me with such cold eyes.” I raised my hand, slapped him hard across the face, and then said flatly: “Bitch!” A glimmer of joy surfaced in Daniel’s eyes, thinking I had returned to normal. But seeing my eyes still completely devoid of emotion, the joy vanished in a flash. I was simply following his command. That afternoon, Mia brought a cheap fruit basket to the hospital to see me. Seeing Daniel sitting dejectedly by my bed, she playfully punched his arm. “It’s just a woman, do you really need to be this depressed? You acting like this really makes daddy look down on you!” Daniel was no longer in the mood to treat her jokes as flirting. He just glanced up at her and didn’t respond. Mia walked over, looked at me on the bed, and suddenly said: “Chloe, bark like a dog for me a couple of times.” I immediately opened my mouth and barked, “Woof, woof.” Mia burst out laughing. “Wow, that’s a really good impression! Bark a few more times for me to hear.” Daniel quickly spoke up to stop it. “Chloe, don’t bark. You rest properly.” Hearing that the newest command was for me to rest, I closed my eyes directly. Daniel yanked Mia out of the room with an angry expression. “What are you doing? Chloe is already miserable enough turning into this. How can you take advantage of the situation to bully her?” The smile on Mia’s face didn’t fade. “How is this bullying?! I was just joking with her! Plus, I don’t think she’s miserable at all right now!” “It’s great that she’s like this. You tell her to go East, she won’t go West. Even if we bros sleep in the same bed, she won’t get jealous. In my opinion, this is definitely a good thing!” Those words thoroughly enraged Daniel. He raised his hand and slapped her across the face. “Are those even human words?! Chloe is a living, breathing person with thoughts and feelings, not just a robot puppet that only knows how to obey!” “Chloe turning into this has everything to do with you! Not only do you feel zero guilt, but you’re actually here mocking her. You have absolutely no humanity!” Mia never expected Daniel to actually hit her. “You hit me over a woman? From now on, we’re not bros.” She lunged forward and started tearing into Daniel, both of them looking like they wanted to kill each other. In the end, medical staff had to call the police, and the police came to take them both away, finally ending the farce. Richard’s arrest and the Good Wife Academy scandal made the news. My parents saw the report about me on the news and immediately flew to New York overnight. Seeing me lying in the hospital bed, my mom immediately leaned over and hugged me. “My poor Chloe has suffered so much. Don’t be afraid, Mom is here.” Being held tightly in her arms, I didn’t know how to react, but I felt a warmth in my chest, and my eyes unconsciously grew moist. My dad rushed up and punched Daniel, whose face was already bruised and swollen. “When you begged me to let you marry my daughter, what did you say?” “You said you would treat her well, love her for a lifetime. Is this how you love her?” Daniel dropped straight to his knees in front of my parents. “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry. I was foolish. It’s all my fault. You can hit me, curse me, I absolutely won’t fight back…” My dad kicked him heavily a few more times, finally venting some of the anger pent up inside him.

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Six years into our marriage, I saw a woman on my husband’s phone. He didn’t show it to me on purpose. He was taking a shower when an unknown number texted him an intimate photo. A woman in pajamas, resting her head against his chest, throwing up a peace sign at the camera. I picked it up and tapped it open. I scrolled up. The chat history was completely wiped. The entire conversation window contained only this single photo. The contact name was just a letter: L. He hadn’t saved her full name, or any other identifying information. But it was glaringly obvious. He was cheating on me. 1 I placed the phone back on the coffee table, screen facing down. The water in the bathroom stopped running. He came out, drying his hair with a towel, and picked up his phone just like he always did. He swiped the screen a couple of times; his expression didn’t change at all. I stared at his profile. From college to now, eleven years. I could trace the lines of his face with my eyes closed. He suddenly turned to me. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” He smiled and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips brushed my earlobe. They were cool and smelled of his grapefruit body wash. “You must be exhausted today,” he said. “Go to sleep early.” I nodded, but I lay awake with my eyes open until dawn. The next morning, I called in sick to work. After his car pulled out of the driveway, I went back inside and opened his backup phone. There was no ‘L’ in the contacts, but the photo was still in the cache folder. And it wasn’t just the one from last night. There were photos from two years ago, a year ago, six months ago… different locations, but the same woman. In front of a hotel’s floor-to-ceiling window, wrapped in a bathrobe, holding a glass of red wine. On a boardwalk by the beach, her arm linked through his, a sunset in the background. At an expensive sushi restaurant, feeding him a piece of salmon with her chopsticks. The last photo was recent. Her stomach was slightly rounded. Her hand rested on it, and he was looking down, kissing her forehead. The timestamp was from two months ago. My phone buzzed. A text from him. [Things are slow at the institute today. I’ll be home for dinner. Let me know what you want to eat, I’ll pick it up.] I locked my screen. I didn’t reply. I dialed the number of the sushi restaurant from the photo. “Hi, I’d like to check a reservation record from about three months ago. For a table by the window. The reservation would be under the name Davis.” “Please hold for a moment… Mr. Davis, correct? Yes, we have that. A table for two. The lady accompanying him was a Ms. Lin.” I hung up the phone. He never took me to sushi restaurants. He always said he hated raw fish. Turns out, he didn’t hate raw fish. He just didn’t want to eat it with me. It took me a week to figure out who she was. Lily Lin, thirty-one years old, a cellist for the city symphony orchestra. She wasn’t some college sweetheart he was having a nostalgic affair with, nor a random, meaningless fling. She entered his life much earlier than I could have ever imagined. Eight years ago, he gave a guest lecture at the symphony hall. She was in the front row of the audience. Seven years ago, he was invited to the New Year’s concert. She performed a solo; he presented her with flowers. Six years ago, we got our marriage license. That was also the year a “Mr. Davis” started appearing frequently on her social media. Never showing his face, only his hands. A hand helping her out of a car, a hand carrying her cello case, a hand holding a wine glass on her birthday. I scrolled through five years of her posts, one by one. She posted a picture of sheet music with the caption: The seventh year since he taught me how to read music. She posted a picture of a Ragdoll cat with the caption: When you’re not here, he keeps me company for you. She posted a blurry photo of a view from a window with the caption: He said he’ll bring me here again next time. 2 I started living like a private investigator. When he showered, I went through his briefcase. When he was at meetings, I checked his dashcam. Late at night, when he was fast asleep, I used his fingerprint to unlock his phone. The passcode was our wedding anniversary. That discovery made me sick to my stomach for three whole days. He was using a passcode that tied him to me, while living an entirely separate life with another woman. ‘L’ was hidden in a contact group labeled “Work Contacts.” Her profile picture was a close-up of piano keys. He cleared their chat history every day, but occasionally, something slipped through the cracks. On the 10th of last month, he was on a business trip to Boston. She texted that she wanted to eat at a specific private kitchen near the harbor. He replied: Okay, I’ll take you. That same day, he texted me: Meetings are back-to-back. Just grabbing takeout. On March 17th, she said her music room was too cold. He replied: Bought you a space heater. It arrives tomorrow. That same day, I asked him if he was coming home for dinner over the weekend. He said he had to stay late at the lab supervising his grad students. On April 2nd, at 2 AM, she sent a selfie, her eyes red from crying. He replied instantly: Why are you still awake? She said: Had a dream about you. He replied: Silly girl. I’m always here. I stared at that message. I stared until the screen went dark, then tapped it to light it up again. I waited for the tears to come. But my eyes were dry. Not a single tear fell. The next day was Saturday. For once, he wasn’t working overtime. “We haven’t watched a movie together in a while,” he said, standing in the entryway putting on his shoes. “There’s a new one out with great reviews.” I looked at him. I had ironed his shirt last week. He had polished his dress shoes himself yesterday. He’d gotten a haircut recently, making him look sharp. He said we hadn’t watched a movie together in a while. He sounded like he actually meant it. “I can’t today,” I said. “I’m meeting Joanne to look at building materials.” He paused. “For the renovation?” “Yeah. I want to replace the bookshelves in the study.” “Thanks for handling all that.” He walked over and, just like always, put his arm around my shoulders. “I’m no help at all with these things.” His hand was warm, resting on my shoulder through my thin sweater. I used to crave that warmth. Now, it just felt heavy. I went to see Joanne. We weren’t looking at building materials. It was an asset evaluation. Joanne was a woman in her forties with short hair and sharp eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. “Mrs. Davis, what exactly are you looking for?” “The flow of marital assets post-wedding.” I pushed the bank account numbers and property deeds across the desk. “Specifically, any large expenditures over the past five years, or any transfers with an unknown destination.” She flipped through the paperwork, then looked up at me. “Are you prepared for this?” “What do you mean?” “A lot of wives come in here wanting an audit, but halfway through, they get too scared to keep digging.” She closed the folder. “It’s not that they can’t find anything; it’s that they can’t handle the truth.” I didn’t say anything. She studied me for two seconds, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll have a preliminary report for you in three days.” When I left her office, it was raining outside. I hadn’t brought an umbrella. I stood under the awning, staring blankly into the distance. My phone buzzed. It was him. [Made sweet and sour ribs for dinner. Left a portion for you on the second shelf of the fridge.] I stared at the text. Three years, and he still remembered that sweet and sour ribs were my favorite. He remembered that I hate cilantro. He remembered that I’m allergic to cats. He remembered everything he was supposed to remember. So how did we end up here? The rain fell harder. I didn’t text him back. 3 Three days later, Joanne emailed me the report. The moment I opened the attachment, my hand shook on the mouse. Item 1: March, four years ago. Wire transfer of $35,000. Memo: “Renovation.” Joanne’s annotation: Recipient Lily Lin. No contractor license. Purpose of funds unknown. Item 2: August, three years ago. Payment of $68,000. Memo: “Car Purchase.” Joanne’s annotation: Vehicle registered under the name Lily Lin. Item 3: November, two years ago. Credit card charge of $18,000. Location: Paris. Joanne’s annotation: Mr. Davis has no record of international travel during this period. Item 4, Item 5, Item 6. Five years. Over two hundred thousand dollars. A hundred thousand of that came directly from our joint savings account. The account was in my name, and I set the PIN. He had never once mentioned touching that money. I pulled out the bank statements. The last time I checked was a year ago, and the balance hadn’t changed. Did he transfer the money out and secretly deposit cash back in to cover his tracks? Or had he been keeping two sets of books from the very beginning? I called the bank. The customer service rep checked for five minutes. “Mrs. Davis, there are no records of large withdrawals from this account over the past five years.” “That’s impossible.” “The system shows that all transfers were replenished with cash deposits on the exact same day.” I hung up. He had a secret bank account I knew nothing about. He used that account to wire money out, then used cash to refill our joint account. Clean and flawless. I went to his workplace. Not to confront him, but to see Brenda. Brenda was the Deputy Director of Finance. She sat at the head table at our wedding; she was a former subordinate of his late father. I didn’t beat around the bush. I just said I wanted to see his payroll records. Brenda didn’t ask questions. Half an hour later, she slid a piece of paper across her desk to me. Nathan Davis. Monthly salary: $8,500. Annual performance bonus: $15,000 to $25,000. Total income over the past five years: roughly $600,000. Account balance: $12,000. I stared at it for a long time. “Where is the rest of the money?” Brenda shook her head. “It’s not my place to ask.” She paused. “Nathan… I watched that boy grow up. His parents passed away early. When Old Mr. Davis entrusted him to me, he said Nathan was cold on the outside but warm on the inside, that he didn’t know how to navigate the world. He asked me to look out for him.” She looked at me. “Stella, did you find something?” I folded the paper and put it in my pocket. “Brenda,” I said. “His father asked you to look out for him. If my dad were still alive, I doubt he’d let me suffer like this.” I didn’t wait for her to respond. I got up and left. I was alone in the elevator. My face in the mirror was calm, as if nothing had happened. But my fingers were gripping that piece of paper so tightly my palms were sweating. He came home early that night. I was in the kitchen serving soup, and he leaned against the doorframe watching me. “Joanne mentioned you guys went looking at floor tiles today?” “Yeah.” “Did you decide on anything?” “Still looking.” He walked over and took the soup bowl from my hands. “I’m heading to Seattle tomorrow for a business trip. Three days.” “Okay.” He hesitated. “Stella, has something been bothering you lately?” I looked up. He was looking at me, his brow slightly furrowed. I knew that expression intimately. He looked like that when work was stressful, when his students caused trouble, when he was worried about his tenure review. In the past, I would have pressed him, tried to comfort him, done everything I could to make him smile. Now, I just offered a faint smile. “No. Just exhausted from the renovation stuff.” He nodded and didn’t push it. He slept deeply that night. I lay on my side, using the sliver of light from the streetlamp outside the window to trace his profile. His eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, his lips. Eleven years. I had looked at this face countless times. The first time was during freshman orientation. He was standing in the front row of the formation, sweat dripping down his forehead without him wiping it away, his jaw clenched, stubborn and unyielding. I remember thinking back then, This guy is interesting. Later, when he was pursuing me, he stuttered three times while asking me out. My roommate told me, “For a block of wood like Nathan to gather that kind of courage isn’t easy. Don’t make it too hard on him.” I nodded and said, “Okay.” Then he pulled me into his arms, our chests pressed together, his heart beating heavy and fast against mine. The leaves on the sycamore trees fell and grew back, grew back and fell, eleven times. I pulled my hand back from his face. I rolled over and closed my eyes. A small patch on my pillow was wet. I don’t know what time I finally fell asleep. 4 During the three days he was in Seattle, I did two things. First, I found out Lily Lin’s address. I asked a friend in real estate to check the property records for her complex over the past three years. The purchase date was one month after she bought her car. The total price was $1.2 million. Second, I met with someone. A former colleague of Lily’s who had left the symphony six months ago and now ran a private violin studio. I paid $3,000 for a package of adult lessons. She taught me for twenty minutes, took the money, and was in a great mood. I took her out for coffee. We talked about the orchestra, the concertmaster, the cellists. “Lily Lin,” she said, stirring her latte. “Pretty face, plays decently enough. But man, she’s lucky.” “How so?” “She’s got a sugar daddy.” She lowered her voice. “Claims he’s her boyfriend, some science guy. Every year during the orchestra’s fundraising drive, this guy makes an anonymous donation of a hundred grand. It’s been going on for three years. And guess what? The money is earmarked specifically for the cello section, with the stipulation that Lily be made the principal cellist.” She set her coffee cup down with a clatter. “That position was supposed to go to our associate principal. She’d put in ten years of hard work, but I guess ten years doesn’t compare to having a rich boyfriend.” I didn’t say anything. My coffee went cold. That afternoon, I drove past the Oceanview Residences and parked outside the gate for ten minutes. It was a high-security complex; you needed a keycard to get in or out. But I saw her. She looked a bit thinner than in the photos, wearing a loose knit dress and flat shoes. She was walking a Corgi on a leash, strolling leisurely out of the complex to the convenience store across the street to buy water. When she came out, she opened the bottle and crouched down to water the dog first. The Corgi clearly adored her, constantly nuzzling the palm of her hand. She laughed and leaned down to kiss the dog’s forehead. I started the car and drove away. He came back that night, bringing a box of specialties from Seattle. I opened it. It was a box of artisanal salted egg yolk pastries. “You mentioned you wanted to try these,” he said, sitting on the sofa looking at his phone. “I happened to be passing by the bakery, so I picked some up.” Mentioned. Back in my sophomore year of college, his roommate went to Seattle for an internship and posted on Facebook about how good these pastries were. I had casually commented that they looked good. He remembered that. I picked one up and took a bite. The red bean paste was sweet, the salted egg yolk savory. He asked, “Are they good?” “They’re good.” He put his phone down and looked at me. “Stella, I actually took care of something else while I was in Seattle.” I didn’t look up. “What is it?” “I looked at a condo,” he said. “In Bellevue, really close to the water. We have enough for the down payment. I want to put it in your name.” I put the pastry down. “Why buy a place there all of a sudden?” He paused. “I wanted to surprise you.” He smiled. “You’ve always said you wanted a place near the ocean.” I wanted a place near the ocean. He gave another woman the sunset on a beach boardwalk. I wanted to buy a house. He paid entirely in cash for a two-bedroom condo for another woman. I closed the box of pastries. “It’s too expensive,” I said. “We don’t have that kind of money.” “We can scrape together the down payment.” He hesitated. “We can also dip into our retirement funds.” “We can’t afford it.” He was silent for a few seconds. “Are you… worried about money?” I turned to look at him. His eyes were so sincere. So sincere that I almost believed those bank transfers, the property deeds, the orchestra donations were all figments of my imagination. “Nathan,” I said. “Are you hiding something from me?” He froze. “Why would you ask that?” “No reason.” I put the pastries in the fridge. “We’re not buying a condo right now. The renovations are costing too much as it is.” He didn’t push the issue. I went to bed early that night. Thinking I was tired, he dimmed the bedroom lights and quietly pulled the door shut. I lay there with my eyes open, listening until his breathing became long and steady. At 2 AM, I got up. His phone was charging on the nightstand. The passcode was still those same six digits. I unlocked it. He had wiped the chat with ‘L’ completely clean. But in his Notes app, there was a draft saved. The title was just one word: Chloe. I tapped it open. It was a letter. Written to his unborn child.

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Chapter 1 On the day of my divorce, my ex-husband wired five million dollars into my bank account. When I got home, my mother immediately asked me how much I got in the settlement. I lowered my head and said, “I walked away with nothing. I just wanted to prove a point.” She slapped me hard across the face. “You worthless brat! I raised you for nothing!” My dad pointed at the front door. “Get out. There’s no place for you in this house.” My younger brother “kindly” offered to let me stay in their storage closet—for five hundred dollars a month in rent. My sister-in-law laid down the ground rules: “Sam, we don’t raise freeloaders here. You have to pay for your own groceries, too.” I smiled and agreed. I lay on the broken folding bed and looked at the text message from my bank. Balance: $5,000,327. When I walked out of the courthouse, the sky was heavily overcast. My ex-husband, David Miller, stood on the steps, lighting a cigarette without looking at me. “The money was wired to your account. Five million, not a penny less.” “Mhm,” I murmured, nodding. He exhaled a plume of smoke. “Samantha, we got to this point, and there’s no one to blame. We just aren’t right for each other anymore.” “I know.” “Live a good life.” “You too.” He stubbed out his cigarette, turned, and walked away. I stood there, watching his car pull away. A black Mercedes. I picked it out for him three years ago. He said if I liked it, we’d buy it and slowly pay off the loan. Now, the loan is paid off. The car is his, the house is his, the company is his. Aside from the five million dollars, I had nothing left. Just then, my phone chimed with a text message. [A wire transfer of $5,000,000.00 has been deposited into your account ending in 8848. Available balance: $5,000,327.18.] I turned around and texted my family group chat. [Mom, I’m divorced.] Three seconds later, my phone blew up with a call. “Divorced? How much did you get? Who gets the house? What about the car?” I paused for a second, then regained my composure. “I walked away with nothing. I just wanted to prove a point.” Silence on the other end. A long, heavy silence. I didn’t dare make a sound, waiting for her to speak. Suddenly, my mom started screaming into the receiver. “Samantha Davis, are you out of your damn mind?! Walked away with nothing? Do you have brain damage? You’re 32 years old! You’re divorced, with no money and no house! How are you supposed to survive?!” “I’m moving back home.” “There’s no room for you here! Your brother is about to have a baby, we don’t even have enough rooms as it is.” “I can just sleep in the storage closet.” Chapter 2 She let out a long, ragged breath. “Fine, come back. But let me tell you, this isn’t over! Wait until I see you, I’m going to curse you out until you wish you were deaf!” She hung up. I stood on the courthouse steps. The wind blew past, carrying a biting chill. I ordered a ride home. No, back to my mother’s house. It was an old apartment building, sixth floor, no elevator. I dragged my heavy suitcase all the way up. When I reached the door, I could hear the TV blaring loudly inside. I knocked. My dad opened the door. When he saw me, he just shook his head and sighed. “Dad.” “Mhm.” In the living room. My mom, my brother Tyler, and my sister-in-law Chloe were all there. The TV was playing a reality show, but no one was watching it. Three pairs of eyes were locked onto me. Tyler was the first to speak, a hint of schadenfreude in his tone. “Sam, you really got divorced?” “Yeah.” Chloe leaned in. “Why? Was David seeing someone else?” I kept the truth from her and said, “No. We just didn’t get along anymore.” My mom sat on the sofa, legs crossed, arms folded, looking like a detective ready for an interrogation. “Samantha, explain this to me right now. Why did you walk away with nothing? David has a massive business, and you didn’t ask for a single penny?” “If I asked for money, I wouldn’t have been the one initiating the divorce.” My mom sat up rigidly, her voice shrill: “Initiating it my ass! Did you ever bother asking for our opinion? Even if your brain was flooded with water, you couldn’t possibly be this stupid!” Tyler pressed a hand to her shoulder to calm her down. “Mom, don’t get worked up. Sam must have had her reasons, right, Sis?” I lowered my head and stayed silent. My mom pointed a finger at me, scolding: “What kind of twisted reason could she have?! She’s 32, no job, no money, no house! Samantha, what are you going to do now? Huh? Are you expecting us to feed you?” “I’ll find a job.” Chapter 3 “What kind of damn job can you find?! You got married right out of college and have been a stay-at-home wife for seven years. What company is going to hire you?” My dad finally chimed in: “Just drop it. The divorce is already done, what’s the point of yelling about it now.” My mom turned her fury on him: “What do you mean, what’s the point?! This is all because of how you spoiled her! You spoiled her from the day she was born, and now she thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants! A divorce is a huge deal, and she just does it on a whim! She walks away with nothing on a whim! How is she supposed to survive?!” “I’ll survive on my own.” My mom sneered. “Survive on your own? With what? Where are you going to live? What are you going to eat? What are you going to wear? Let me make this clear, Samantha: in this house, there is no free ride for you!” Tyler interjected: “Mom, let her stay. The storage closet is empty, isn’t it? We can clear it out and it’ll be livable.” “The storage closet is full of junk, how is she supposed to sleep there?” Tyler looked at me, a meaningful smile on his face. “We can make room. Sis, you can stay, but we need to set some ground rules. You’re in a tough spot right now, and the family is taking you in, but you can’t just live here for free. How about this: $500 a month for rent, and we split the utilities and HOA fees. Fair?” The storage closet? Charging me $500? I was so speechless I almost laughed. My 28-year-old brother, spoiled rotten since childhood. He had changed jobs seven or eight times. Never lasted more than six months at any of them. The $40,000 down payment for his wedding house? I paid for it. The $20,000 for his wedding reception? I covered it. And now. I have to sleep in the family storage closet. And he’s charging me rent. “Fine.” Chloe chimed in: “And there’s the grocery money, Sam. I usually handle buying the food and cooking for the house. Since you’re moving in, we have to keep the math straight. We’ll count your share of the groceries as $250 a month. That’s not too much, right?” Chapter 4 “Not too much.” My mom added her own terms: “You have to do chores, too. Chloe is pregnant, she can’t be exhausted. From now on, you’re in charge of all the cooking, dishwashing, and mopping.” “Okay.” Chloe added another rule: “Don’t use the washing machine, it wastes water and electricity. You wash your clothes by hand.” “Fine.” “And don’t take a shower after 10 PM. It wakes us up.” “Mhm.” Rule after rule was laid down. And I agreed to every single one. Their eyes were filled with disdain, completely devoid of any sympathy. Seeing that I accepted everything, Tyler gave the final word: “Then it’s settled. Sis, go unpack. The storage closet is a bit messy, you’ll have to clean it yourself.” I grabbed my suitcase and walked toward the storage closet at the end of the hallway. When I opened the door, a musty smell wafted out. It was crammed with old furniture, torn cardboard boxes, and broken appliances. Near the window was a rusted folding bed, covered in a thick layer of dust. I set my suitcase down and started cleaning. From outside, I could hear their poorly muffled voices. Chloe asked, “Did she really not take a single penny?” “That’s what she said. Walked away with nothing.” Tyler scoffed. “What a total idiot. David’s company is worth tens of millions, easily. She was with him for seven years and didn’t take a cut? Her brain must have been crushed by a door.” My mom sighed. “What do we do now? Do we really let her live here long-term? Five hundred bucks in rent, what’s that going to do for us?” Tyler said, “Let her stay for now. We’ll make her do the chores to earn her keep. In a little while, we’ll find some divorced guy and marry her off as fast as possible.” “Who would want her? Thirty-two, second marriage, and broke.” “Some desperate old bachelor will take her.” I crouched on the floor, wiping the dust off the folding bed. Tears unconsciously fell from my eyes. Chapter 5 The storage closet was tiny, less than a hundred square feet. Once I unfolded the bed and put down my suitcase, there was no floor space left. The window was broken and let in a draft. I taped some plastic bags over it, but it was still freezing. It was March, and the temperature at night dipped into the forties. My mom had given me an old, thin, drafty blanket. I huddled under it, listening to the sounds outside. The master bedroom was my parents’. The guest room belonged to Tyler and Chloe. They went to sleep by 11 PM. The sound of snoring drifted through the thin walls. I couldn’t sleep. I opened my phone. My banking app. Balance: $5,000,327.18. I took a screenshot and emailed it to a secure secondary account. Then I deleted the text messages and deleted the banking app entirely. I couldn’t risk them seeing it. The next morning, 6 AM. I got up to make breakfast. The fridge had eggs, milk, and bread. I fried some eggs, heated the milk, and toasted the bread. Just as I set the table, they started waking up one by one. Tyler sat down, yawning. “Sis, you don’t need to make breakfast for us from now on. We can’t wake up this early.” “Then what are you going to eat?” Chloe sat down, resting her chin in her hand as she glared at the fried eggs. “We’ll grab something outside. There’s way too much oil here. I can’t eat greasy food while I’m pregnant.” “I’ll be careful next time.” “The milk is overheated. All the nutrients are gone.” “Mhm.” My mom sat down, glancing critically at the table. “Is this it? No oatmeal? No hash browns?” “I can make some right now.” My mom waved her hand in dismissal. “Forget it, there’s no time.” “Mom, I want barbecue ribs for dinner tonight,” Tyler said. My mom turned to look at me. Chapter 6 “Samantha, go buy groceries this afternoon. Ribs, a whole fish, and some greens. Cover the cost yourself for now, we’ll settle it at the end of the month.” “Okay.” Chloe added: “Oh, right, Sam. Give the bathroom a deep clean today. The back of the toilet is turning yellow, it makes me sick to look at it.” “Fine.” They finished eating and left. Tyler went to “work.” Who knows what new temp job he had found this time. Chloe went back to her parents’ house, claiming she had a prenatal appointment. My dad went to the park to play chess. My mom went to play bingo with her friends. I was the only one left in the apartment. I cleaned the bathroom first. The back of the toilet was indeed stained yellow. I had to scrub for half an hour to get it clean. Then I mopped the floors, wiped the windows, and washed the curtains. I was busy until noon. I made myself a simple bowl of noodles. In the afternoon, I went grocery shopping. The supermarket wasn’t far. I bought ribs, fish, spinach, and a little fruit. When I checked out, the total was $42.50. Carrying the groceries home, I bumped into our neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins. “Oh, Samantha, you’re back? I heard you got a divorce?” “Yeah.” “Oh my, why would you do something so foolish? David was such a good man. Rich, and he treated you well.” “Mrs. Jenkins, I’ve got things to do. I have to go.” I sped up my pace, practically fleeing back to the apartment. I cooked dinner that evening. Braised ribs, steamed fish, sautéed greens. Just as I set everything on the table, they walked in. Tyler tasted a piece of the ribs: “Sis, are you rationing the salt or something?” “Pregnant women shouldn’t have too much sodium.” Tyler grabbed another piece, complaining: “Well, I’m not pregnant. Make bigger portions next time. Who is this supposed to feed?” “Understood.” Chapter 7 Chloe took a small bite of the fish and suddenly frowned. “Is this fish undercooked? It tastes too fishy.” “I steamed it for fifteen minutes.” “Then it must not be fresh. Sam, you need to be more careful when you buy groceries. Don’t just buy stale food because it’s on sale.” “Okay.” My dad ate in silence, not saying a word. My mom took two bites and put down her chopsticks. “Samantha, how is the job hunt going?” “I sent out a few resumes, but I haven’t heard back yet.” “Hurry up and find something. We don’t raise freeloaders here.” “Mhm.” After dinner, I washed the dishes. They were in the living room watching TV, laughing loudly. I washed the dishes while looking out the window. It was dark, and the lights in the apartment building across the street were turning on one by one. Behind each of those lights was a family. I used to have a family, too. David used to help me wash the dishes. I used to massage his shoulders. On weekends, we would watch movies and cook together. But later, he got busier and busier, coming home later and later. Eventually, he stopped coming home at all. He said, “Samantha, we just don’t have anything to talk about anymore.” I said, “Then let’s get a divorce.” He offered me money, a house, and a car. I told him I only wanted what I deserved. He asked how much that was. I told him, “We were married for seven years. I stayed with you when the company was in debt, and I stayed until it was worth fifty million. I want five million dollars. That’s more than fair.” He gave it to me. Five million dollars. I had run the numbers; I knew he could afford it. I had hired a private investigator long ago to audit his company’s books and track the assets he was trying to hide. I took the money with a completely clear conscience. He signed the papers so quickly because he thought I was stupid, because he thought I was sentimental, because he thought I still loved him. Chapter 8 He was wrong. I was just tired. I finished washing the dishes. I went back to the storage closet. I closed the door, and the world went quiet. I opened my phone to check the stock market. Before the divorce, I had used my personal savings to buy some stocks, making a decent profit. I checked my other investments; the returns were good. I hadn’t touched the five million dollars. It was sitting safely in the bank. Generating over ten thousand dollars a month in interest alone. It was enough for me to survive. But it wasn’t enough for me to live well. And I fully intended to live well. But before that. I needed to see certain people for who they truly were. Like my own family. During my second week there. Tyler came looking for me. “Sis, I need to talk to you about something.” “Speak.” “I want to upgrade my car. That beat-up Hyundai is five years old, it’s time for a change.” “What are you looking at?” “An Audi A4. It’s about forty grand. I need a ten-thousand-dollar down payment, and I’ll cover the monthly loan myself. Sis, do you have any cash? Let me borrow some.” “I don’t have any money.” “Just ten grand. You got divorced from David, he must have given you something, right? You don’t even have ten grand?” “I walked away with nothing. You already knew that.” “You really didn’t ask for a single penny? Sis, don’t lie to me. David is loaded. Just what slips through his fingers is enough to live on. Are you hiding a secret stash?” “No.” His expression turned cold, tearing off his friendly mask: “Fine. If you won’t lend it, you won’t. I don’t know why I even bothered asking. And to think I was so good to you when we were kids. Whenever I had anything good to eat, I always gave you half.” He stormed out. I kept wiping the desk. When we were kids, whatever “good food” there was… He always ate first, and I only got what he couldn’t finish. Chapter 9 What he meant by “giving me half”… Was giving me the parts he hated, the parts he was sick of. That night, Chloe came looking for me. “Sam, I need to talk to you.” “Go ahead.” “My parents are coming to visit next month, and they need to stay for a few days. We only have three bedrooms, so there’s not enough space. Do you think you could stay somewhere else for a few days? We’ll pay for the hotel.” “Stay where?” “Just that budget motel across from our complex. It’s $50 a night. For a week, that’s $350. Is that okay?” “I’ll think about it.” “Sam, it’s not that I want to kick you out. It’s just that my parents are older, it’s not appropriate to make them sleep in the storage closet. You’re young, you can rough it for a few days.” “Mhm.” She suddenly lowered her voice: “Also, Tyler wants to get a new car, and he’s short ten grand. Sam, if you have the money, you should help him out. He’s your only brother. If you don’t help him, who will?” “I really don’t have any money.” She frowned and sneered: “Then what was the point of your divorce? You walked away without a single penny, just to prove a point? Sam, can pride put food on the table? You’re living in a storage closet, eating our food, using our electricity. Are you satisfied with your ‘pride’ now?” “I am.” She looked at me like I was a complete idiot, shook her head, and left. The next day, my mom cornered me. “Samantha, your brother is buying a car and needs ten grand. Do you have it or not?” “I don’t.” “You really don’t?” “I really don’t.” “Then what about the jewelry and designer bags from your marriage? If you sell those, they’re worth something.” “I gave them all back to him.”

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On the eve of Valentine’s Day, my fiancé, who works for a classified military intelligence unit, sent me a text. [Babe, I’m so sorry. The team got hit with an emergency deployment. My wedding leave was just canceled.] The moment I received that message, I was standing less than thirty feet from the security gates of his agency. I watched with my own eyes as he wrapped his “bro,” Riley Brooks, tightly inside his heavy tactical coat. “Just to satisfy this sick fetish of yours, I’ve bailed on Chloe six times already.” “This is the last time. Next year, no matter what, I am marrying her.” Riley laughed, lifting her half-empty iced coffee to his lips. “Didn’t you just buy the new mattress for the bridal suite? I’m gonna go help my future sister-in-law break it in.” “You don’t even have to thank me. Consider it an early wedding gift.” Hearing this, I dug my fingernails so hard into my palms that they almost bled. I pulled out my phone and dialed his parents. [Mr. and Mrs. Hayes, let’s gather everyone tonight and decorate the new house early.] [Yes, exactly. I want to give Liam a massive surprise.] Since he didn’t care about his dignity. Then he couldn’t blame me for burning everything to the ground. …… [Let’s keep the fact that we’re all in Virginia a secret from Liam for now.] [Okay, I’ll wait for you guys downstairs by the apartment lobby.] After hanging up the phone, I opened the app for the hidden security cameras I had installed just yesterday. On the screen, I watched them stumble through the entryway, aggressively making out all the way into the master bedroom. I saw the silver St. Michael’s medal—the one I had spent hours on my knees praying over at the cathedral to keep him safe on his deployments. Right now, it was lying completely abandoned amidst a filthy pile of discarded clothes. My body went completely rigid, letting the freezing winter wind bite through my coat. It didn’t take long before both our families and closest friends arrived. Before they even reached me, my parents hurried over, their faces full of concern. “How is it, Chloe? Did you see that idiot Liam?” “Don’t worry,” my dad sneered. “Your Grandpa already made a call to his commanding officer at the Pentagon.” “Even if the sky was falling tomorrow, his unit wouldn’t be calling him in for an emergency deployment.” I forced down the devastating urge to break down and scream. I squeezed out the most convincing smile I could muster. “Okay.” “Chloe, didn’t you say you wanted to give Liam a surprise?” “What are we standing around for? Let’s go up and start decorating!” Looking at the bright red balloons and wedding ribbons in my family’s hands, my nose stung fiercely. I let the tears spill silently over my eyelashes. I had known Liam for ten years. We had been dating for eight. We had been engaged for six. Six years ago, exactly one month before our wedding. He said he was applying for a highly competitive Captain’s slot, so I agreed to postpone the wedding for a year. Three years ago, exactly one week before our wedding. He said he was selected for a black-ops mission, and I agreed to postpone the wedding once again. Until this year, when both sets of parents finally lost their patience. Three days ago, we brought all our relatives and friends to the city where his base was located, arriving early to prep the final wedding details. But I never, in my wildest nightmares, could have imagined this. The bridal home I had spent six years meticulously designing and furnishing… Every piece of furniture, every inch of the hardwood floors… Had already been defiled and claimed by his “tomboy bro,” Riley. Thinking about it made my stomach violently churn. I rushed to a nearby trash can and dry-heaved for a long time. I wanted so badly to tell them. To tell everyone. That just half an hour ago. Liam had personally texted me to announce that our wedding—scheduled for tomorrow morning—was being delayed for another year. I wanted to tell my parents that Liam had betrayed me. That over the last six years, every single time he claimed his leave was canceled due to national security. He was actually just screwing his “bro,” Riley Brooks. But I realized my throat felt like it was being crushed by an invisible hand. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t squeeze out a single word or make a sound. As we walked into the apartment building, I chugged a bottle of ice-cold water. Liam. It’s time for you to taste exactly what it feels like to be played for a clown. The moment everyone stepped off the elevator. We immediately saw the tactical boots and a woman’s lace top scattered in the hallway. Seeing my face flush with “embarrassment” as I quickly kicked the clothes against the wall, Liam’s mother covered her mouth to hide a knowing smirk. Assuming Liam was inside prepping a romantic surprise, she excitedly unlocked the front door. At the exact same moment, unspeakable, filthy moans echoed loudly from the master bedroom. “Damn, your bed is comfy…” “If you do it with Chloe here later, are you gonna think about your bro?” “You should swap the sofa for leather though. This fabric is chafing my skin.” Hearing this, everyone’s expressions froze. It was as if a freezing spell had been cast over the entire group. No one stepped closer to see what was happening. No one dared to make a sound. I forced my legs—which felt like they weighed a thousand pounds—to move forward. I reached down into the pile of discarded bras and shirts and picked up the St. Michael’s medal. It had been stepped on and cracked. Even though I had mentally prepared myself for this. Actually standing in the room, I felt as terrified and cowardly as a child who had done something terribly wrong. I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted copper, letting the blood fill my throat. “Liam Hayes! Get your ass out here right now!” “Liam, do you hear me?!” “You actually dared to betray my daughter?! You must have a death wish!” My dad lost his mind and charged toward the master bedroom. He pounded his heavy fists against the solid wood door. Just as he was blinded by rage, raising his leg to kick the door off its hinges… Liam slipped out through a crack in the door, hastily wrapped in a towel. “Mr. Vance, Dad, Mom, cousin…” “Why… why are you all here?” “Why didn’t anyone tell me…” Before he could finish his sentence, my dad delivered a brutal right hook to his jaw. “You soulless piece of trash! You have the nerve to ask us that?!” “Our Chloe waited for you for six agonizing years!” “Did she wait just to see how creatively you could betray her?!” Before Liam could even recover from the shock of the punch. My mom had already stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a heavy cast-iron skillet. “Where is that little bitch?! How dare she ruin my daughter’s marriage!” “I’m going to kill her! I’m going to smash that homewrecker’s face in!” Just as she raised the skillet to storm the master bedroom, Liam lunged forward, desperately grabbing the pan and tossing it to the floor. “Mr. and Mrs. Vance, you’re misunderstanding!” “My original plan was to leave the base tomorrow morning at 0700 to go home.” “But I wanted to give Chloe a massive surprise! That’s why I came back early.” “I was just taking a shower and changing clothes, and suddenly you’re all here!” While he was speaking, my cousin had already kicked the bedroom door wide open. “Liam, if you really cheated on my sister, I will literally end you.” But the moment the door swung open… The bridal bed was immaculately made. Scanning the entire room, there was absolutely no sign of a second person. Seeing this, Liam’s mother immediately jumped in to control the narrative. “See? I told you! There’s no way our Liam would do something like that.” “Looks like we all just completely misunderstood him.” “Chloe, really, you should have just waited upstairs with him.” “What, were you afraid we’d get lost finding the apartment with this many people?” She rolled her eyes, picking up Liam’s tactical jacket from the floor and tossing it at him. “And you! If you’re going to take a shower, take a shower! Why the hell are you blasting cheap porn on your phone?!” “Now look what happened. You made everyone misunderstand!” Liam’s cousin quickly chimed in from the side. “Honestly man, did you and Chloe already go at it before we got here?” “You didn’t even clean up the battlefield before making everyone come decorate your bridal suite.” “Seriously, way to treat us like we aren’t even guests.” Having quickly thrown on a t-shirt and sweatpants, Liam seized the perfect excuse and ran with it. “Talk about terrible luck.” “Who gets caught ‘cheating’ by their entire family just for watching a little video in their own house?” He faked an awkward, embarrassed cough. “Since everyone is already here, why don’t we all go out to a nice steakhouse?” “Chloe, what do you think?” Seeing that I was standing there completely motionless, he walked straight up and pulled me into his arms. “Weren’t you just cuddling in my arms a few minutes ago?” “Why are you acting so shy now that everyone is watching?” As he said this, he lowered his head, pressing his lips to my ear to whisper. “Let’s just take everyone out to dinner first. I’ll explain the video to you later.” “It’s not what you think. Trust me.” “Say something quickly. Everyone is waiting.” Heh. Was he afraid that everyone was waiting? Or was he terrified of keeping the person hiding in the master bedroom waiting? Having been together for ten years, Liam knew exactly how to manipulate me. He knew that every time he and Riley crossed the line using the excuse of being “bros,” I would always painstakingly swallow his excuses and believe him. But what he didn’t know was that the moment I found out he had been faking canceled military deployments for six years just to be with this so-called “tomboy bro”… I had absolutely zero desire to marry him anymore. But I didn’t want to just rip the band-aid off and let them walk away easily. I wanted to watch with my own eyes as they choked on the consequences of their own filthy actions. I let out a cold laugh, slipping smoothly out of his embrace. “What just happened really was a huge misunderstanding.” “It’s our fault for not being more careful. Sorry for making a joke out of ourselves.” “Mom, Dad, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes… since it took so much effort to get everyone together tonight, why don’t we just order a massive spread of food here? It’s the perfect way to warm up the new house.” “No!” The moment the words left my mouth, the three members of the Hayes family objected simultaneously. Seeing my feigned look of confusion, Liam’s mother was the first to explain. “There are no groceries in the new house! If we just order cheap takeout here, wouldn’t we be disrespecting our guests?” “Plus, it’s getting late. We don’t have time to wait for a delivery.” “Liam’s mom is right. Let’s just all go out to a nice restaurant,” my mom agreed. “Yeah, Chloe, Mr. Vance, Mrs. Vance, let’s just go out to eat,” Liam quickly added. In the entire room. Only I and the three members of the Hayes family knew the truth. Behind the hidden bookshelf door in the master bedroom was a private en-suite bathroom. They wanted to use dinner as an excuse to get me and the rest of the family out of the apartment. So Riley could sneak out undetected? Keep dreaming! I completely ignored the forced, panicky looks in the Hayes family’s eyes. I grabbed my parents and dragged them onto the plush living room sofa. “Oh, come on! Everyone is exhausted from traveling all day. Let’s not drag everyone back out into the cold.” “I just put in a massive DoorDash order from that high-end Italian place down the street. It’ll be here in twenty minutes.” “Garlic bread and extra parmesan for everyone, right? Cousin, you don’t like spicy marinara, right?” “Perfect. It’s already paid for.” Though their faces were twisted with immense reluctance, the Hayes family had no choice but to bite the bullet and sit down. While I was in the kitchen brewing a large pot of tea for everyone, Liam cornered me, looking incredibly distressed. “Chloe, did you get my text earlier? I was originally trying to surprise you with the deployment thing, but I guess I totally screwed it up.” I pretended nothing was wrong, looking at him casually. “What text? Did you text me?” “Sorry, I was so focused on decorating the bridal suite I haven’t even looked at my phone.” I reached into my pocket to pull out my phone, but he immediately grabbed my hand to stop me. “It’s better you didn’t see it! The wedding is proceeding exactly as planned. After tomorrow, you will officially be my legal wife.” I smirked coldly and pushed past him. I walked back into the living room, warmly entertaining our family. While we waited for the food to arrive. Everyone got to work. Some were taping up wedding decorations. Others were inflating balloons. And the task of decorating the master bedroom… Fell to the two of us—the bride and groom. I walked up to the bridal bed, fully intending to pull back the duvet to scatter the traditional red dates and peanuts. But Liam instantly grabbed the duvet and the fitted sheet, violently ripping them off the mattress and throwing them onto the floor. Seeing my suspicious glare, he explained with a deeply awkward expression. “It’s been empty for so long, I was worried it was dusty.” He scrambled to the closet and pulled out a brand-new set of luxury sheets. “You just sit down and rest. I’ll change them.” “Chloe, I know how incredibly hard you’ve worked organizing this wedding by yourself all these years.” “Don’t worry. Once I get my Major’s leaf next month, I’m putting in my papers to transfer to a civilian desk job.” “Then, we can finally live that normal, nine-to-five, peaceful life you’ve always wanted.” I was too disgusted to listen to his lies. I raised my hand to push open the hidden door leading to the en-suite bathroom. Instantly, he lunged from behind and wrapped his arms around my waist in a death grip. “Wait!”

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I stared at that line of text for a very long time. It was printed in black and white on the lab results—”The test concludes that there is no paternity relationship between the child and the alleged father (Mark Miller).” It wasn’t him. I had prepared myself a hundred ways to face the absolute worst outcome. I was going to smash things, scream, call the cops, and shove that report right in his cheating face. But it wasn’t him. Then who is Leo’s father? The administrator at the DNA center noted that the child’s Y-chromosome markers were an exact match for the Miller family lineage. The Millers. Not Mark Miller. But a Miller. I closed my eyes. The smiling, cheerful face of my father-in-law, Robert Miller, drifted up out of the darkness. 1 Three months ago, Chloe came over for dinner. She brought Leo. He was three, a chubby little boy, incredibly sweet and impossible not to like. I asked her, “Chloe, Leo is getting cuter every day. He really looks like his dad.” Chloe offered a tight smile, looking down to wipe Leo’s mouth. “Don’t bring him up.” Chloe had always said Leo’s father was an ex from college, that she hadn’t realized she was pregnant until after they broke up. She had the baby alone, raised him alone. My heart ached for her. Chloe and I had been best friends in college; I’d known her for twelve years. I helped her find her job, I went with her to look at apartments, and I sat outside the delivery room waiting when she had Leo. Mark used to tease me about it: “You treat Chloe better than you treat your own sister.” I always said, “It’s hard for her, doing it all alone.” After dinner that night, my mother-in-law, Eleanor, stopped by. The second she walked in and saw Leo, her eyes lit up. “Oh, look, little Leo is here!” She crouched down, pulling a sleek, expensive Transformer toy out of her purse. I froze. I’d seen that exact Transformer. It was a collector’s item displayed in the department store, priced at over fifty dollars. My son, Toby, had asked for it last month. I told him it was too expensive and we should wait for a sale. Eleanor handed the Transformer to Leo, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Leo took it, saying in his adorable toddler voice, “Grandma.” I glanced at Toby. Toby was standing to the side, staring at the Transformer. He didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything, either. Eleanor never even looked at Toby. Later that night, as I lay in bed, a sudden realization hit me. Leo called my mother-in-law “Grandma.” When did Chloe teach him that? I tossed and turned. Forget it, I told myself. Kids are just sweet-talkers. They call older people ‘Grandma’ or ‘Grandpa’ all the time. But the next morning, as I was stuffing a water bottle into Toby’s backpack, I saw he’d drawn a square box in his notebook with a pencil. Next to the box, he had painstakingly written one word. “ROBOT.” The letters were crooked and wobbly. I stared at that word for five full seconds. Then I stuffed the bottle in and zipped the bag shut. Chloe texted me later that afternoon: “Sarah, Leo’s preschool needs some paperwork. A paternity test, actually. Do you know where I can get one done quickly?” I wrote back: “Just go to the health clinic. It only costs a couple of hundred bucks.” Hours later, she replied: “Never mind. I’ll figure something else out.” I said: “Paternity tests are fast, Chloe. Just a blood draw.” She didn’t reply. That evening, I asked her again. She said: “I don’t want to do it. Too much trouble.” What was so troublesome about a paternity test? Blood draw, wait a few days, get the report. It was the first time I felt like Chloe was hiding something. But back then, I thought she was hiding from her ex. Maybe the ex was married now. Maybe she didn’t want anyone tracking down who the father was. I didn’t think much more of it. But with those two incidents stacked on top of each other, I couldn’t sleep soundly anymore. Eleanor’s attitude toward Leo. Chloe refusing to take the test. Was there a connection between these two things? I told myself there wasn’t. But that night, I dreamed that Leo was sitting on my living room sofa, calling my husband, Mark, “Daddy.” I woke up from the nightmare. Drenched in sweat. 2 I started noticing things I’d ignored before. Like how often my mother-in-law visited. It used to be once, maybe twice a month. After Leo was born, she started coming two or three times a week. Every time she came, she brought things. For Leo. Designer clothes, shoes, fancy snacks, brand-name toys. For Toby—nothing. Once, I couldn’t help but say, “Mom, Toby’s birthday is coming up soon, too.” Eleanor didn’t even look up. “Toby doesn’t need for anything.” “Leo doesn’t need for anything, either.” Eleanor looked up at me then. I will never forget that look. It wasn’t anger. It was defensiveness. Like I had just said something I was absolutely forbidden to say. She set down the apple she was peeling and said slowly, “Chloe is raising that boy on her own. It’s hard. You’re her best friend; don’t you have any compassion for her?” I said nothing. She continued, “You shouldn’t be so keeping score all the time.” Keeping score. I have cooked dinner for her son for eight years, done his laundry for eight years, given birth to her grandson, and raised him. She comes over three times a week, bringing gifts every time for someone else’s child, and if I even ask about it, I’m “keeping score.” I lowered my head and continued peeling the shrimp for dinner. Mark was next to me, scrolling through his phone. He didn’t say a single word from beginning to end. That night, Toby was in his room doing homework while I washed dishes in the kitchen. In the living room, Eleanor was holding Leo, reading him a story. Leo was giggling wildly. I looked out through the glass kitchen door. Eleanor leaned down and kissed Leo’s forehead. She had never kissed Toby. Not once. I turned back to the sink. Kept washing the dishes. I turned the faucet on full blast. I couldn’t hear the laughter in the living room anymore. Chloe came to pick up Leo the next day. As I was helping Leo put on his shoes, I felt the socks on his feet. They were thick cotton, the brand tag still attached. I glanced at the tag. Fifteen dollars for one pair of socks. I buy Toby’s socks at Target—ten bucks for a six-pack. I said nothing. I finished putting on his shoes, picked Leo up, and handed him to Chloe. Chloe said, “Thanks so much, Sarah. I’m always imposing on you.” I said it was fine. After she left, I stood at the door, watching her get into a taxi. A taxi. Chloe worked as an administrator at a small company, making less than forty thousand a year. Single mom, forty thousand a year, fifteen-dollar socks for her kid, riding in taxis. Where was her money coming from? I’d never thought about this question before. Because I assumed her life was incredibly difficult. Raising a kid alone, renting an apartment, nobody to help. I’d been transferring her five hundred dollars every month, telling her it was “a little something for the groceries.” Every time, she would say, “No, no, you don’t have to,” but she always accepted it. But still. Does a person who wears fifteen-dollar socks need me to “help out” with five hundred dollars a month? I stood at the door, watching the taxi turn the corner and vanish. The wind blew in. It was pretty cold. 3 I started checking Chloe’s Instagram. Her profile was very sterile. Occasionally a picture of Leo, occasionally reposting parenting articles. But she had posted something once, a long time ago, and then deleted it. I remembered what it was. It was a photo. Leo was sitting on a leather sofa in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling window. Neither the sofa nor the window looked like they belonged in the cramped little apartment she was renting. I’d even commented on it at the time: “Where was this taken? It’s beautiful.” She replied: “A friend’s place.” And the next day, that post was gone. I opened up Amazon and searched for the brands of clothes Leo wore. A winter coat—a hundred and fifty dollars. Sneakers—eighty dollars. I scrolled down. Nothing Leo wore cost less than forty or五十 dollars. A single mom making forty thousand a year. I turned off my phone. That Saturday was my birthday. I had told Mark the day before: “It’s my birthday tomorrow. Let’s just eat at home; I’ll cook a nice dinner.” He said okay. I also called Eleanor: “Mom, tomorrow is my birthday, come over for dinner.” Eleanor said: “Okay, I got it.” I went grocery shopping early the next morning. I came back and made a huge meal. Ribeye steaks, roasted salmon, Caesar salad, garlic butter shrimp, and a potato soup. Toby helped me set the table. “Mom, when is Grandma coming?” “Soon.” I waited until 5:30. I called Eleanor. No answer. I called Mark. “Where are you?” “My mom said she took Leo to the zoo, and she wanted me to pick them up. I’m on my way.” “Leo?” “Chloe had something come up, so she dropped Leo off at my mom’s.” “Today is my birthday.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I know. We’ll celebrate when I get back.” He hung up. I sat at the dinner table. Steaks and salmon. The grease on the steaks had already congealed. The salmon was cold. Toby sat opposite me, poking a shrimp with his fork. “Mom, let’s eat.” “Let’s eat.” I put a steak on his plate. I didn’t eat. They all came back later that evening. Eleanor walked in saying, “The zoo was so packed today.” Nobody mentioned my birthday. Mark hung his coat at the door, put on his slippers, and went straight into the home office. I went to the kitchen and poured the potato soup down the drain. I had never cried in that house. I didn’t that day, either. I washed the dishes, wiped the counter, mopped the floor. Then I went to the bedroom, turned off the light. Lied there in the dark with my eyes open. Thinking about one thing. Where was Chloe’s money really coming from? I made a decision the next day. When Chloe brought Leo over to play, I waited for my moment. Leo was on the sofa watching cartoons. I walked over, crouched down, and stroked his head. “Leo, honey, let me get this little stray thread out of your hair for you.” Toddlers don’t know the difference. I pulled three hairs, ensuring I got the roots, and sealed them in a plastic baggie. I slipped it into my pocket. Chloe was in the kitchen helping me wash fruit. She didn’t suspect a thing. 我把口袋里的密封袋攥了一下。 My palm was covered in sweat. 4 I needed a comparison sample. I thought about it for two days. I knew a paternity test required samples from two people to compare. Initially, I only wanted to test Chloe’s “ex-boyfriend”—but I didn’t have his DNA. All I had were samples from Miller men. Mark Miller. If my suspicion was correct—if Leo was Mark’s child—then comparing it against him would be enough. I snagged a few hairs from Mark’s hairbrush. Hairs with the roots attached. I sent them to the testing center. I waited seven days. Those seven days felt like I was walking on air. I cooked, did laundry, picked up Toby from school, helped him with his homework every day. Everything was normal. But every night, I lied awake until two or three in the morning. Next to me, Mark was sleeping soundly. Snoring. On the seventh day, the testing center called. “The results are in. You can come pick them up.” I took a half-day off work. I took the bus there. My hands were cold the whole way. When I got the report, I sat on a bench in the hallway for a very long time. “It concludes that there is no paternity relationship between Test Sample 1 (Child) and Test Sample 2 (Adult Male).” It wasn’t Mark. I stared at that line of text, my mind a complete blank. It wasn’t him. Then whose was it? I thought the worst-case scenario was—husband and best friend. I was prepared for anger, prepared to storm out, prepared to file for a divorce and take him for everything he had. But now I was being told it wasn’t him. Then who the hell does this child belong to? I walked out of the testing center holding the report. Standing under the bright sun. One phrase kept looping in my head— “Y-chromosome markers were an exact match for the Miller family lineage.” That’s what the administrator at the center had said. “While it’s not a paternity match, the Y-chromosome markers are a highly significant match, meaning the child’s biological father and the sample you provided belong to the exact same paternal line.” The exact same paternal line. Not Mark Miller. But a Miller. How many Miller men were there? Mark Miller. Mark’s younger brother, Steven Miller, who lived across the country and only came back once a year. Mark’s father. Robert Miller. No. Impossible. I stood by the side of the road for a long time. Then I bought a bus ticket home. The whole way back, I kept thinking: Impossible. Robert Miller was fifty-eight years old. He was the archetypal wholesome American grandpa. Retired, loved playing chess, went for walks in the park every morning. Every time he came over for dinner, he was dressed neatly, spoke to Mark in a booming voice, and loved to preach about “living with integrity.” Eleanor often said, “The best thing about your father is that he’s a decent man.” Decent. I suddenly remembered something. The year Chloe had Leo, I went over to her place to drop off some homemade casserole. The door wasn’t shut all the way. I pushed it open and saw Robert Miller sitting on her sofa. He was holding a grocery bag full of fruit. When he saw me, he stood up and offered a polite smile. “Mark asked me to stop by and check on Chloe, said it’s hard for her on her own.” I didn’t think much of it at the time. A father-in-law checking on his daughter-in-law’s best friend—what was strange about that? But looking back now— Mark asked him to go? I got home and called Mark. “Your dad went to see Chloe at her apartment a few years back. Did you ask him to do that?” There was a pause on the other end. “What? No, I didn’t. He went by himself? I didn’t know that.” He went by himself. Mark didn’t know. I hung up the phone. It almost slipped from my hand.

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