Category: English

Married for eight years, everyone praised me as the luckiest woman in New York high society. My husband was notoriously devoted, showering me with jewelry, buying yachts, and renting out entire private islands just to celebrate my birthday. I, too, tirelessly played the role of the gentle, compliant, and frugal Mrs. Sterling. Even the media dubbed us a rare example of true love emerging from a business marriage. That is, until the day our daughter was born. His little kept woman intentionally had a C-section early to deliver his son, publicly provoking me, the legitimate wife. Naive as I was, I thought he would consider the Sterling family’s reputation and send the mother and son abroad. I never expected that he would swap my daughter for that illegitimate son. He even handed me a custody agreement, righteously forcing me to sign it. “I owe her. I have to repay her.” “Our daughter will recognize you as her godmother. When she’s older, I’ll send her to Switzerland for school. Don’t worry, she will be a little princess that everyone envies.” “And you will always be my wife.” I nodded and smiled as I took the pen to sign. He let out a long sigh of relief, thinking I had finally accepted my fate. Little did he know, today was the exact day I had been waiting for. Chapter 1 I handed the signed custody agreement back to Arthur Sterling. He glanced over it and nodded in satisfaction. “Get some good rest.” As he reached the door, he looked back once more. “By the way, the boy’s name is Leo. The girl… is Chloe.” The door clicked shut. The hospital room fell quiet again. I stared at the baby boy in the bassinet, studying him. He was awake, looking right back at me with his big eyes. That little face definitely resembled Arthur, especially the eyes and the bridge of the nose. A wave of nausea surged up my throat, and I covered my mouth, dry heaving. My nanny, Maria, pushed the door open and walked in. When she saw the baby boy in the bassinet, she jumped in shock. “Mrs. Sterling! Didn’t you have a baby girl? Why…” I offered a self-deprecating smile. “This is Maya Harper’s child.” Hearing this, Maria was furious. “Mrs. Sterling! How… how can this be allowed?! Who does that woman think she is? An illegitimate child is now the heir to the Sterling family?” “You went through ten months of pregnancy and a grueling labor to deliver your daughter, and she’s just going to be given to some D-list Instagram model to raise?” “This… this is just too much bullying! How could you… how could you agree to this?” Her hands were shaking with anger, her words filled with indignation on my behalf. I looked out the window at the dreary, gray sky, smiling bitterly and shaking my head. “Does it really matter… whether I agree or not?” Maria sighed. “But you are Mrs. Sterling! Is there no law and order anymore?” Law and order? In Arthur Sterling’s world, he is the law and order. I closed my eyes, that familiar feeling of powerlessness creeping back up. It didn’t matter. My wishes had never mattered. After all, from the very beginning, the person Arthur loved wasn’t me. During his years abroad, he had a constant string of women, but Maya Harper was the one who stuck around the longest. She was beautiful, had a killer body, and knew exactly how to play coy, completely bewitching Arthur. But for a top-tier old-money family like the Sterlings, there was no way they’d let a model who made a living flashing skin marry into the family. Old Mr. Sterling, without a second word, ordered him back to the States to meet me. As soon as the news of our arranged marriage leaked, Maya started throwing massive tantrums. To appease her, Arthur funneled all the best entertainment resources from the Sterling Group directly to her. He single-handedly elevated a kept woman who couldn’t see the light of day into a massively popular, A-list star. He gave her whatever she wanted, acting as if he’d rip his own heart out to compensate her. And now, he was even giving my child to her. Thinking of this, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to an old friend: [The fish took the bait.] Chapter 2 In the blink of an eye, little Leo turned one month old. The one-month celebration was held at the Sterling family estate. Inside and out, the five-story mansion was adorned with peonies flown in directly from Holland. The champagne tower was stacked even higher than the one at our wedding. Wearing an elegant evening gown, I greeted guests in the ballroom. Arthur held his son, a triumphant, beaming smile on his face. The wife of the Vanguard Group’s chairman approached me, raising her glass with a smile. “Mrs. Sterling, you look radiant. You’ve recovered so quickly.” I smiled and thanked her, catching a commotion at the entrance out of the corner of my eye. Maya Harper had arrived. She was wearing a custom Valentino gown with a plunging neckline that went almost down to her navel, looking incredibly sexy. The entire room fell silent for a second, all eyes zeroing in on her chest. A massive pink diamond necklace sparkled brilliantly under the crystal chandeliers. That necklace was the grand finale piece at Sotheby’s auction last month, selling for twenty million dollars. The media had reported that Arthur bought it as a “push present” for his wife. Yet now, it was glaringly hanging around Maya Harper’s neck. When Arthur saw her, his eyes lit up. He handed the baby to a nanny and walked toward Maya. Maya habitually looped her arm through his, pressing herself tightly against him. Camera flashes erupted like fireworks. The reporters, like sharks smelling blood in the water, swarmed them. “Ms. Harper, what is your relationship with Mr. Sterling?” “Did Mr. Sterling gift you this necklace?” Maya smiled for the cameras. As she raised her hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a hickey on the back of her neck was exposed, glaringly obvious against her pale skin. She tilted her head to look at Arthur, saying shyly, “Mr. Sterling, why don’t you answer?” Arthur wrapped an arm around her shoulder and spoke to the cameras. “Maya is the star artist of the Sterling Group’s entertainment division. Please don’t write any baseless rumors! The company’s legal department will pursue any false reporting to the fullest extent.” The reporters exchanged skeptical glances, their faces screaming disbelief. But intimidated by the power of the Sterling family, they didn’t dare press further and resentfully dispersed. Several society wives gathered around to comfort me. “Stella, don’t take it to heart. You know how men are…” “Exactly. Let him play around; at the end of the day, he still has to come home to you.” I smiled and nodded. It wasn’t until I raised my champagne glass to my lips that I realized my hand was shaking violently. A little champagne spilled onto my hand. It was freezing cold. Maya walked over, her arm still linked with Arthur’s. She stood in front of me, looking me up and down. “Stella, you look absolutely beautiful today.” I offered a faint smile. “Thank you. You look quite stunning yourself, Ms. Harper.” She stepped closer and whispered, “Don’t worry, Arthur told me. You will always be his wife. No one can replace you.” As she spoke, she purposefully touched the necklace around her neck. I pointed to the necklace. “Worthy of an eight-figure pink diamond. Very flashy.” “Right?” she let out a light laugh. “Arthur said it suits me perfectly. Unlike you—it would just look old and dated on you.” Arthur frowned slightly. “Maya.” “Just joking,” Maya tugged at his arm playfully. “Stella won’t mind, right?” I nodded. “I don’t mind.” That night, Twitter blew up. #MayaHarperHickey# #NewYorkSocietyPrincessOvershadowed# #ArthurSterlingMayaHarperIntimate# My name was sandwiched in between, utterly ridiculous. Chapter 3 Arthur didn’t come home until late into the night. He paused when he saw me. “You’re still awake?” I smiled. “Waiting for you.” He walked over to the bed and said softly, “Next month, I want to take Maya and Leo to Switzerland for a vacation.” I put my phone down and replied nonchalantly, “Sure, have a great time. Take lots of pictures.” “You… you’ve changed,” he said, looking at me, hesitating. I looked up at him. “Have I?” He stared into my eyes, speaking earnestly. “You didn’t use to be like this. Back then, there was light in your eyes. Now… it’s like you don’t care about anything anymore.” I scoffed inwardly. Of course I changed. From the day Arthur swapped my daughter at the hospital, that Stella Hayes died. The person living now is nothing but a walking corpse wearing a mask of docile obedience. But I just smiled. “People change. You’ve changed too, haven’t you?” Arthur let out a heavy sigh. He stood up, walked to the door, then turned back. “If you want to go, you can come with us.” I shook my head. “No thanks. I have things to handle at the company.” After Arthur left, I immediately shed that mask of docility. While he was off having a blast in Switzerland, I turned around and enrolled in the top Executive MBA program in the city. The coursework was brutal, but I relished every second of it. Maya, however, hadn’t forgotten about me. Every few days, she’d send me photos of them looking intimate, occasionally accompanied by a few boastful remarks. I patiently replied to every single one, even complimenting her photography skills. My calmness seemed to confuse her. She probably found it boring, so she eventually stopped sending them. When Arthur returned to the States, he clearly noticed the change in me. He likely assumed my “understanding” behavior was a compromise born of total despair, and miraculously, he actually tried to make amends. A Birkin bag one day, a Michelin-starred dinner reservation the next. Even his tone became ingratiating. One time, he got drunk and held my hand, saying, “Stella, can we go back to how things used to be?” I pulled my hand away and smiled. “How did things use to be? I’ve forgotten.” The light in his eyes instantly died. No matter what he said or did now, it couldn’t stir even a ripple in my heart. I was just waiting for the right moment to take back everything that belonged to me. Chapter 4 For Chloe’s fourth birthday, Arthur made an exception and allowed her to celebrate at our house. I got up early to bake a cake for her. I had just finished whipping the frosting when Maria frantically knocked on the kitchen door. “Mrs. Sterling, Chloe is here!” I didn’t even bother wiping my hands as I hurried out. As soon as I reached the living room, I heard the disjointed notes of a piano. In the distance, I saw my daughter, wearing a beautiful princess dress, sitting on the piano bench playing. Maya leaned over and asked her, “Does Chloe like playing the piano?” Chloe nodded enthusiastically, answering in her sweet, toddler voice, “I love it!” “Then we’ll play it all the time from now on, okay?” Maya smiled and stroked her hair. Chloe was even more thrilled, shouting, “Okay!” She was so excited that she accidentally knocked over the amethyst vase sitting next to the piano. The vase crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. Everyone froze. Maya’s face changed instantly. She grabbed Chloe’s arm, yanked her off the bench, and raised her hand, delivering a hard slap. SMACK! A crisp, loud sound. Chloe’s head snapped to the side from the force, a red handprint rapidly blooming on her cheek. She stood stunned for two seconds before bursting into loud wails. That crying sounded like a sharp blade, stabbing into my heart over and over again. I charged forward. Maya was still yelling, “You little brat! Do you know how much that vase costs?! Mr. Sterling had that custom-made just for me!” She raised her hand to strike again. I grabbed the cake knife from the dining table. Before her hand could fall, I seized her wrist and twisted it viciously. Maya screamed and stumbled backward, and I pinned her against the piano. The piano let out a chaotic jumble of discordant notes. I pressed the knife against her throat and demanded fiercely, “Do you want to die?” The living room erupted into chaos. Little Leo started crying in terror, and the nanny rushed to pick him up. Maya struggled frantically trying to escape. I grabbed a handful of her hair, yanked her back, and delivered several vicious slaps across her face! SMACK! SMACK! The sharp sounds were piercingly loud in the chaotic living room. She screamed and tried to protect her face. I backhanded her hard across the mouth, and blood immediately seeped from her lip. “You dare hit me! Arthur! Arthur, save me!” she screamed hysterically. I raised my hand, fully intending to keep teaching this reckless idiot a lesson. “Stella Hayes, stop!” Arthur stood in the doorway, glaring at me coldly. Maya screamed for help. “Arthur, save me! She’s trying to kill me!” I pressed down hard on Maya, looking at Arthur, and roared, “If Maya Harper ever shows her face in our house again, I will kill her!” “What did you say?” Arthur frowned. I scoffed coldly. “I don’t repeat myself!” Arthur was stunned. He had probably never seen me like this—eyes bloodshot, veins bulging on my hands, acting like a mother wolf protecting her cub. Chloe ran over and hugged my leg. “Godmother…” Maya used the distraction to struggle. I applied pressure with my hand, and she instantly stopped moving. “Arthur!” she cried out. “Are you just going to watch her bully me?” Arthur remained silent for a long time. So long that Maya’s crying began to trail off. Finally, he spoke. “Take her back.” The bodyguards standing nearby were also stunned. “Are you deaf?!” Arthur’s voice rose. Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, and only then did I release my grip. They hauled Maya up. She glared at Arthur in disbelief. “Arthur? You’re treating me like this?” Arthur looked away. “Just go home for now.” “Arthur Sterling! You—” She was dragged out, her curses fading into the distance. That night, for the first time ever, Arthur didn’t go to comfort Maya. He leaned against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. I lay on the other side of the bed, my back turned to him. In the darkness, he suddenly spoke up. “You were too impulsive today.” I didn’t say anything. “However…” he paused. “Maya was definitely out of line, but I believe she didn’t mean to do it.” I sneered. “She hit my daughter, so of course it doesn’t hurt you.” He sighed. “Don’t say that. Chloe is my daughter too, how could I not feel bad for her?” I let out a cold laugh, choosing not to expose his lie, and just said, “Go to sleep.” He shifted closer, wrapping his arms tightly around me from behind. It was an intimate posture, just like a real married couple. But all I felt was disgust. Chapter 5 On the first day of spring, Arthur surprisingly had some free time and suggested taking the kids to the country club. The men headed out to the golf course, while the wives sat in the lounge area, sipping tea and chatting. Chloe sat next to me, drinking orange juice. “Chloe, is your godfather good at golf?” Mrs. Bennett asked curiously. Chloe set her cup down and said earnestly, “My godfather doesn’t know how to play golf, but my daddy does.” “Really?” “Really.” Chloe nodded. “My daddy said he hit a hole-in-one when he was 18, and he gave that little white golf ball to my mommy.” The room fell completely silent. The wives exchanged knowing glances. Arthur never played golf. He considered the sport a waste of time. His expertise lay in the stock market; he knew absolutely nothing about what happened on a golf course. But his biggest rival, Julian… excuse me, Harrison Thorne, was an expert. Harrison had grown up in Hong Kong, where golf was practically mandatory. Fifteen years ago, at a charity golf tournament. Arthur, trying to save face, forced himself onto the course and ended up making a complete fool of himself. But Harrison, with a casual swing, sent the little white ball flying in a perfect arc, landing squarely in the hole. The crowd erupted in cheers. Harrison took off his white glove and, in front of everyone, handed the golf ball, signed with his name, to me, sitting right next to Arthur. Arthur’s face was so dark he looked ready to commit murder. Later, I hid that little white golf ball in the jewelry cabinet in my walk-in closet. My thoughts snapped back to the present. As I turned to pour Chloe some more juice, I caught a glimpse of Arthur standing in the doorway out of the corner of my eye. He had heard every single word. Chapter 6 That night, Arthur went straight to his study as soon as we got home. By 10 PM, he still hadn’t come back to the bedroom. I went downstairs to get some water and saw the light in the study was still on. I pushed the door open. Arthur was sitting at his computer, the country club’s membership list displayed on the screen. “Still awake?” I asked. He looked up at me, his voice low. “What did Chloe mean by what she said today?” I held my water glass, feigning confusion. “What did she say?” Arthur stood up and walked over to me. “She said her daddy hit a hole-in-one and gave the golf ball to her mommy.” “When have I ever hit a hole-in-one? When have I ever given you a golf ball?” I pretended to think for a moment. “She probably saw it in some cartoon. Kids can’t tell the difference between reality and TV.” “Is that so?” Arthur sneered. “Stella, are you sure?” “What else could it be?” I shot back. “Do you really think I have a lover who plays golf and hits holes-in-one?” Even I was surprised by how sharp my words sounded. It was very unlike my usual self. Arthur was taken aback too. He stared at me, stared for a long time, and finally waved his hand. “Forget it. Go to sleep.” Although I obediently went to bed, he didn’t sleep. Over the next few days, he launched a frantic investigation. He questioned the club manager, checked my credit card statements, and interrogated anyone who interacted with me regularly. Just as Arthur was about to dig deeper, Maya threw a massive fit. She marched right into the Sterling Group headquarters, dragging Leo behind her, and caused a huge scene at the front desk. I happened to be waiting for the elevator and heard the chaos outside. “I want to see Arthur Sterling! Now! Immediately!” “Ms. Harper, Mr. Sterling is in a meeting…” “I don’t care about his meeting! Tell him to come out here!” I walked over and saw Maya, her hair a mess, her eyes swollen like walnuts. Little Leo was hiding behind a chair, crying in fear. Employees formed a circle around them, no one daring to step forward. When Maya saw me, she got even more riled up. “Stella Hayes! Arthur doesn’t love you at all! He should have divorced you and married me ages ago!” Before I could even respond, Arthur yelled sternly, “Maya, what the hell are you doing?!” “I’m making a scene?!” Maya shrieked. “Arthur Sterling, you said you’d marry me as soon as I gave you a son! Look how big Leo is now! How much longer do I have to wait?!” Dead silence. Utter, dead silence. The employees lowered their heads, pretending they hadn’t heard a thing. Arthur grabbed Maya’s arm and dragged her toward the elevator. “We’ll talk upstairs!” “No! We are settling this right here, right now!” Maya struggled. “If you don’t get a divorce, I’m going to leak everything—” “Shut up!” Arthur cut her off fiercely, shoving her into the elevator. The spectacle was over, but the news spread like wildfire. Arthur was completely overwhelmed. Maya was throwing tantrums every day, and the media, catching wind of the drama, started digging up the luxury mansions and sports cars she had received over the years. Arthur was busy trying to pacify her and suppress the news, temporarily putting his investigation into Harrison Thorne on hold. I took advantage of this window to set my next steps in motion. When we got married, Arthur gave me 5% of the Sterling Group’s shares, and transferred a bit more to me over the years. Combined with the shares my family originally held, I now controlled 20%. I had already prepared the transfer agreements for these shares. That night, Arthur came home later than usual. As soon as he entered the bedroom, he threw a stack of photos onto the floor in front of me. I stepped closer to look, my breath catching in my throat. The photos were all of me and Harrison Thorne. I offered a faint smile. “Just catching up over dinner with an old friend. Was it really worth hiring someone to stalk me?” Arthur picked up a photo of Harrison and me hugging and sneered. “Is this how ‘old friends’ act? Stella, do you take me for an idiot?” I ignored him and turned to go take a shower. He grabbed my arm and roared, “Answer my question!” “What exactly is your relationship with Harrison Thorne?”

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The moment the meeting ended, I knew this thirty-million-dollar deal was in the bag. I had just closed my laptop when my supervisor, Miranda Hayes, walked over with her arms crossed. She looked me up and down, her tone dripping with mockery. “Nice choice of dress. But I think educated women like us shouldn’t submit to beauty standards.” I froze for a moment, then explained, “We were hosting an important client. Dressing appropriately is basic respect, isn’t it? Besides, the proposal itself is what really matters.” She immediately raised her voice so the entire department could hear: “Respect? The client’s a man, and you’re the only woman in the room wearing a dress. Isn’t your intention obvious? Stop catering to men! Wake up!” One of the male colleagues tried to smooth things over. “Miranda, that’s too much. She really did well in the presentation today…” She immediately cut him off. “Of course you men would defend her! She’s a classic case of being disciplined without even realizing it, thinking she’s so professional and dedicated!” “If we professional women want respect, we need to break free from this mindset first.” “Next time, I suggest you come bare-faced and let your ability speak for itself. Don’t embarrass the rest of us women.” ……

When you’re utterly speechless, you really can’t help but laugh out loud. I had simply put on light makeup and worn an appropriate dress, yet somehow I was being labeled with all these accusations. “Miranda, you should really spend less time scrolling through social media. Just because someone feeds you content doesn’t mean you should swallow it whole. Do you even actually know what the term ‘disciplined thinking’ means?” “Your binary, single-track mindset is what really needs some training.” Her face instantly turned red. She’d probably never been talked back to by a subordinate in public before. “Jane! How dare you speak to me like that?!” She slammed the table, her finger almost poking my nose. “I’m your superior! Do you have any sense of propriety?!” I didn’t back down an inch, throwing her own words right back at her. “Propriety? Weren’t you just saying we should let our abilities do the talking? I just closed a deal. Let me see your abilities?” She was just a parachute manager with no real competence. She flew into a rage and swung her hand toward my face. I didn’t react in time. My cheek stung with burning pain. After hitting me, she seemed to regain her confidence, breathing heavily as she shouted. “Let me tell you something, Jane! I know you’re capable! But everyone knows how you got those abilities!” “Right now, in this company, I am your superior! You need to learn respect! Don’t think that just because you can seduce men with that face and land some small projects, you can throw your weight around here!” As soon as she finished speaking, several colleagues who had always been jealous of my better performance immediately crowded around, chiming in one after another. “Capable? Who knows what kind of capability? Shady tactics will never be respectable.” “Dressing like that—who are you trying to impress? Miranda is trying to save you. Don’t be ungrateful.” “Exactly. We honest people earn our living with real skills, not by flirting. Why don’t you thank Miranda?” I covered my face, fury burning in my chest, about to lash back regardless of consequences. The director grabbed my arm. “Alright, alright, Jane, say no more! You worked hard today. Come on, I’ll treat you to dinner to help you cool off!” He half-dragged me toward the cafeteria, lowering his voice. “Why are you going head-to-head with her? She’s Mr. Hayes’s only daughter! We’re just employees—we can’t afford to offend her!” Mr. Hayes’s daughter? How come I didn’t know my dad had given me such a sister?

But before I could say anything, the director had already pulled me to the employee cafeteria. He kept rambling on about how I should just endure it for the sake of peace, while I mindlessly pushed the food around on my tray. Just then, my phone buzzed. Messages in the company group chat were flooding the screen. I opened the chat. The top few messages were photos and videos posted by Miranda! She had actually gone to my desk while I was away. In the photos were all my personal belongings: A pair of stockings I’d just taken off to bring home and wash, high heels I kept at the office for emergencies, and my commonly used lipstick and perfume. Then came a voice message from her, sickeningly affected, played on speaker. “Everyone take a look! Our company must eliminate this kind of unhealthy atmosphere! We’re banning behavior that sells one’s body and appearance to please men! Things like lipstick, perfume, stockings… none of these should appear in the company anymore!” “Today, I’ve confiscated some dirty items from a certain colleague. Following the principle of not being wasteful, I’m holding a little auction here!” “Let’s see if anyone’s interested in our project goddess’s personal items! Highest bidder wins!” My stomach churned. I felt so sick I almost threw up the food I’d just eaten. And there were actually sleazy men in the group responding, with bids popping up one after another. I cursed under my breath, unable to take it anymore, and rushed back to the office. When I reached my desk, the scene before me made my blood pressure spike even higher. Miranda hadn’t just gone through my storage locker—she was now going through my personal laptop. “What are you doing?!” I rushed over and slammed the laptop screen shut. “This is my personal computer! It has my private information!” Miranda jumped at my action, then raised her chin, looking self-righteous. “What am I doing? Inspecting, of course! You use a computer at the company, so I need to check whether you’ve stolen company secrets or made deals with that project manager using company interests. After all, someone like you… who knows what you’re capable of?” I was shaking with anger, my fingers gripping the edge of the laptop tightly. I was about to argue when a male colleague wearing black-framed glasses shamelessly approached. “Miranda, I’m here to pick up the stockings I bid on.” Miranda nodded knowingly, pulled out my stockings, and handed them to him. “You look honest, but I didn’t expect you’d be into this. Take them. Just transfer me the money.” “Miranda Hayes! What gives you the right to auction off my things! I’m not selling!” “What gives me the right? Because these items that cater to men cannot appear in the company! I’m purifying the workplace environment!” I was completely enraged and fired back. “Necessary attire is professional etiquette! Just because I dress appropriately and look presentable, that means I’m pandering to men? By your logic, when I wear a skirt, should I also wear bright red long underwear underneath to be considered proper?!” My voice wasn’t quiet, drawing whispers from colleagues who had been watching the show. Some couldn’t help but chuckle softly, clearly finding Miranda’s behavior too absurd. Her face immediately flushed with embarrassment, her eyes growing more vicious. “Jane! Are you crazy? Believe it or not, I’ll make sure you can’t survive in this company!” I didn’t want to waste another word on her. “Move. I need to get to work.” I said coldly, reaching to close my laptop.

But she pressed down hard on the computer, her fingers rapidly scrolling through my SnapChat conversation interface. “Work? Your work is having in-depth exchanges with CEOs from various companies on SnapChat, right?” Her voice was shrill, deliberately making sure everyone could hear. “Come on, let me read a few lines for everyone to learn from!” She cleared her throat, imitating an affected tone. “‘Mr. Hayes, thank you so much for today. I’d love to treat you to dinner sometime!’ Look, a blatant invitation! Jane, don’t you know this Mr. Hayes is a married man? His wife is famously fierce, and you still dare to throw yourself at him? You’ve got some nerve!” I was almost amused by her stupidity. “It’s just normal business courtesy. What else should I say?” “Courtesy? Then look at this one!” She clicked open another chat window with the contact name “Old Hayes.” The conversation inside was indeed more casual, with me complaining about work being tiring and the other person reminding me to eat on time, the tone intimate. “Oh my! You’re even closer with this Old Hayes! Acting all sweet! Calling him ‘Daddy’? How disgusting! What kind of fetish is this? Some rich old man must be keeping you! No wonder you get project after project. I bet your sugar daddy is this guy, right?” Looking at her face twisted with jealousy, my inner mockery deepened. Idiot, she can’t even recognize my dad’s SnapChat, yet she dares to call herself Mr. Hayes’s daughter? When I graduated, I made a bet with my old man that without using any of his connections, I’d join the company and close deals worth a hundred million dollars on my own merit, and then I could take over as general manager. But I never expected that right before the finish line, I’d be humiliated like this by this clown who claims to be the chairman’s daughter. Fine, if you want to put on a show this badly, I’ll play along to the end. Let’s see how much longer you can enjoy yourself. Seeing that she had no intention of backing off and was instead escalating her invasion of my privacy, I completely lost patience. I suddenly turned around, rushed directly into her office, grabbed her laptop, and returned. “What are you doing! Put down my computer!” she shouted in panic. I ignored her, my fingers randomly sliding across the touchpad. Actually, I’d long heard rumors about Miranda’s office affairs. But everyone, out of deference to her position as supervisor, never mentioned it to her face. I clicked open a hidden file. The next second, embarrassingly explicit moans and gasps streamed from the computer speakers. “Is that voice Miranda’s?” “Playing it pretty wild, huh? Even filming yourself in the office as a keepsake?” The surrounding colleagues instantly erupted in whispers. Her face turned pale. She rushed over and snatched the computer, slamming it shut, shaking all over as she pointed at me. “Jane! Stop framing me! I’m completely innocent! You must have just snuck in and copied that filth onto my computer!” “The woman in that video is probably you! For projects, what wouldn’t you do?” But everyone still looked at her with suspicion. She immediately stood up and loudly announced her identity. “I didn’t want to say this, but I’m the chairman’s daughter! I came in undercover to help my father clean up the company culture! Employees like Jane who got ahead through improper means and maliciously slander others are exactly who we’re targeting for removal!” She looked around, her eyes carrying naked threats. “Anyone standing here watching and laughing at me today better think carefully about whether you want to have good days in this company in the future!”

This tactic of making an example worked immediately. Colleagues who had just been mocking the supervisor instantly changed their expressions. Several female colleagues who had always been jealous of me were the first to jump out. “How vicious! Your own hands aren’t clean, yet you want to drag the supervisor down with you!” “Exactly! Always making jokes about women’s reputations—her heart is truly wicked!” “An educated woman? I think she hates women! She wishes all women would rely on men like she does! She’s the typical man-pleaser who hates women!” I couldn’t be bothered with those buzzing behind me. I picked up my personal computer and contract and left to sign that thirty-million-dollar deal. The process was exceptionally smooth. The client representative even reassured me. “Miss Jane, although we’ve heard some rumors, we absolutely recognize your professional ability and project proposal. Looking forward to our cooperation.” On the way back to the company, I called my dad. “Dad, mission accomplished. The cumulative amount exceeded a hundred million long ago. You should honor your agreement and prepare for the handover, right?” His gratified laughter came through the phone. “Haha! As expected of my daughter! Dad keeps his word!” I paused, then asked out of the blue. “Dad, you’ve never betrayed Mom, have you?” My dad’s voice immediately rose eight octaves, full of survival instinct. “How could that be possible! Heaven and earth as my witness, I’ve only loved your mother my whole life! Sweetheart, who’s been feeding you nonsense?” “Never mind.” I hung up the phone, a cold smile forming at the corner of my mouth. As soon as I returned to my workstation, I heard Miranda being surrounded by a group of people. “At the company restructuring meeting in a few days, I’ll probably be taking the general manager position.” She pretended to be modest as she brushed her hair. “I remember everyone who’s been good to me. You’ll all benefit in the future.” Immediately, a chorus of flattery rose around her. “Miranda is amazing! This is real advancement based on ability, not relying on men!” “Exactly! So much better than certain people who use underhanded methods!” “From now on, we’re following Miranda!” She glanced at me smugly, provocatively. “What’s wrong, Jane? Jealous? Someone like you who relies on men could never reach such a high position.” I ignored her, focusing on preparing my performance report. Jump all you want. The higher you jump, the harder you’ll fall. Over the next few days, my colleagues found all kinds of ways to sabotage me. My cup tasted like dish rags, dead cockroaches appeared on my seat from time to time, printed documents disappeared… I didn’t bother with it, just took my laptop and moved to the coffee shop downstairs. Soon, the day of the election arrived. I deliberately wore a sharply tailored, high-quality professional dress, with exquisite makeup and a commanding presence. As soon as I walked through the company entrance, Miranda stopped me. She looked me up and down, jealousy flashing in her eyes, then put on a stern face. “Jane! How many times have I told you! Don’t come to the company all dressed up like this! Who are you trying to seduce?” I looked at her, noting that she had also obviously dressed up carefully, and retorted. “Miranda, aren’t you also dressed quite formally today?” She immediately raised her chin, looking superior. “Me? I’m completely bare-faced! Not like certain people who can only rely on makeup to cover up their ugliness and gild their faces!” I smiled, and without another word, pulled out a small bottle of makeup remover from my bag and splashed it directly at her face! Miranda screamed. The liquid ran down her cheeks. Her carefully drawn eyeliner and mascara instantly smudged, her face turning patches of purple and red, like an overturned palette, utterly disheveled. “If you’re bare-faced, then what’s this stuff on your face?” “Jane! I’ll kill you!” She was shaking with rage, lunging at me with claws out, trying to slap me. The director nearby quickly held her back. “Miranda! Calm down! The meeting’s about to start! Quick, go to the restroom and clean up!” Miranda was dragged away, her resentful eyes almost boring through me. I straightened my collar and walked toward the top-floor conference room. Just as I reached the entrance, the receptionist stopped me, her face wearing a formulaic fake smile. “I’m sorry, Miss Jane. Today’s senior management restructuring meeting is invitation-only by name. Your name isn’t on the list, so you cannot enter.” Miranda and a few of her followers had also cleaned up and rushed over. Seeing the situation, they immediately mocked. “Oh my, you actually dared to come?” “Shameless, aren’t you? This is a place you can enter?” I looked at them and smiled. “How about making another call to confirm with higher-ups?” The female receptionist’s face showed impatience, clearly thinking I was being unreasonable. She reluctantly picked up the internal phone and walked aside to inquire in a low voice. A few seconds later, her expression changed dramatically. She ran back, bowed respectfully to me, her voice trembling. “Miss Jane, please come in! Your seat is at the head table. Please take your seat!”

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Just hours after I officially registered my marriage with my commander boyfriend, a highly private video of my first time was leaked across the entire military base. I stared at the screen, my entire body trembling uncontrollably as I watched myself, completely naked, positioned in humiliating ways. Echoing in my ears were the unrestrained, mocking laughs of the people surrounding him. “Arthur Sterling, to make Chloe smile, you actually leaked the video of your own wife’s first time?” “Hahaha, look at the princess, her face is completely pale! She looks like she’s about to cry!” Arthur, however, affectionately tapped his adopted sister Chloe’s nose, saying with a smile: “See? Now the entire base knows Maya has a scar on her waist. Will you finally smile for me now?” Chloe covered her mouth, her eyes curving into crescents as she laughed. I wanted to rush forward and demand an explanation, but my biological brother grabbed me tightly. Liam Sterling, the usually stoic base commander, darkened his face and warned me: “Behave yourself. Don’t think just because you’re the Sterling family heiress you can bully Chloe whenever you want.” “Arthur and Chloe were meant to be together in the first place. You forced your way in, so you deserve to have that video leaked.” He forcefully shoved me into his SUV, forbidding me from ruining the happiness of the precious girl in his heart. The System, which had been silent for ages, suddenly chimed in my mind: [Host, detected that the conquest mission has been completed! Do you wish to return to the real world immediately?] I covered my face, my shoulders shaking violently, desperately trying to suppress the laughter threatening to spill out. After struggling in this melodramatic world for over a decade, I could finally go home. From now on, their tangled web of love and hate would have absolutely nothing to do with me. … [Detected Male Lead’s conquest meter has reached 95%! Mission to marry Male Lead Arthur Sterling is complete! Congratulations to the Host for completing all missions!] [Upon the physical death of the Host, you will immediately return to the real world, receive a 100 million dollar cash prize, and your congenital heart defect will be completely cured!] I desperately swallowed the laughter that was about to burst from my throat. Finally… I’m free. Since Arthur wanted to stay at the hospital to accompany Chloe, Liam personally escorted me home. I turned my head and looked at my biological brother in the driver’s seat. From the moment he got in the car, he had a long face, radiating impatience from head to toe. It wasn’t until a notification sound from Chloe chimed that the corners of his mouth lifted slightly into a smile. Noticing me watching him, he immediately locked his phone screen, his brow furrowing deeply: “Haven’t you looked enough? Don’t want to leave? Still thinking about going back to ruin things between Arthur and Chloe?” “Chloe is young and has suffered so much. Can’t you just be more accommodating to her?” I dug my nails into my palms, trying hard not to laugh. Young? If we’re being technical, I’m half a year younger than Chloe. Perhaps my expression was truly awful, because Liam’s tone suddenly softened a bit: “When we get back, apologize properly to Chloe. Don’t be so stubborn.” He reached out, wanting to ruffle my hair, but I tilted my head to avoid it. “What exactly did I do wrong?” Liam’s hand froze in mid-air, his tone instantly darkening: “Maya, enough is enough!” I closed my eyes. Over the years, even if it was just to complete the mission, I had invested a bit of real emotion. I had also felt genuine heartache because of their attitudes. But now, it was all over. “After Chloe’s competition is over, come with me to apologize to her.” I didn’t answer him. Instead, I asked the System in my mind: [As long as this body dies, I can go back, right?] [Correct.] I slowly inhaled, observing the road conditions through the car window. After confirming that no innocent bystanders would be involved, I pressed the door unlock button and forcefully pulled the car door open. Liam, who was mid-lecture, stopped abruptly: “Maya! What are you doing?!” I didn’t look back as I threw myself out of the moving car. The freezing wind sliced across my cheeks like a knife, and an intense feeling of weightlessness gripped my heart. I squeezed my eyes shut, not feeling an ounce of fear. But the next second, a strong arm clamped tightly around my waist. I was completely enveloped in an embrace and thrown toward the bushes on the side of the road. Amidst the spinning and tumbling, I heard a muffled grunt of pain. We rolled several times before finally coming to a stop. The back of the person shielding me was torn up and bleeding profusely from the branches, but I didn’t have a single scratch. I looked up, meeting Liam’s terrified face, my voice exceptionally calm: “Let go.” Staring into my completely apathetic eyes, Liam suddenly exploded: “I say two words to you and you jump out of a moving car?! Have we spoiled you so much that you have no limits anymore?!” “Trying to get attention this way again, right? Save it!” I acted like I didn’t hear him and forcefully pried his fingers open. Standing up and looking around, I immediately spotted an SUV speeding toward us not far away. “I haven’t gotten my allowance for this month yet. Just consider it compensation for their car repairs.” Leaving those words behind, I ran straight toward the front of the approaching car. “Maya—!” Liam’s roar was heart-wrenching. He stumbled, trying to get up and chase me, but it was far too late. I almost laughed out loud. I was going home. Whether my congenital heart defect in reality could be cured or not was secondary; I didn’t want to stay in this world for another second. The piercing screech of brakes assaulted my eardrums. The SUV managed to come to a dead stop less than half a meter away from me. I stumbled backward, falling into Liam’s arms as he tackled me from behind. “Are you crazy?! Maya, do you really want to die?!” Liam’s eyes were bloodshot. With trembling fingers, he checked my arms and shoulders: “Did it hit you? Where does it hurt? Say something!” Didn’t die again. I lowered my eyes in disappointment. My gaze fell on his leg. His camouflage pant leg was already soaked in blood, and it was still dripping down. If it were the old me, I would have cried until I couldn’t breathe, wishing I could take the pain for him. But now, I just indifferently looked away. “What, now I even need your permission to die?” Liam froze in place, his entire body shaking uncontrollably. I tugged the corners of my mouth into a smirk, turned around, and walked toward the swearing SUV driver: “I’ll transfer the money for the repairs to you later.” Liam’s clenched fists trembled slightly, his eyes terrifyingly red. I paused for a moment, then immediately realized what he was thinking: “Don’t worry, I won’t use your money. I’ll use the money I saved myself…” “Maya!” he practically roared, cutting me off. Yet, I saw a trace of an expression on his face that bordered on feeling wronged. “You’re the sister I’ve protected since we were kids! Even if I had to give my life for you, I wouldn’t blink an eye!” I found it incredibly absurd and looked straight into his eyes: “Is that right?” His body jolted violently, as if he had just snapped back to reality. The one they cherished and held in the palm of their hands now was Chloe. And me, the so-called biological sister, had long since become an unreasonable joke in their eyes. My shoulders shook as I laughed, but tears fell uncontrollably. I used to always follow behind him. When he returned from a mission, I was always the first person he wanted to see. And now? He only told me with a cold face to “be sensible” and “stop bullying Chloe.” Liam violently yanked me back into the car, his voice low and raspy: “Once Chloe wins first place in this military competition, we’ll tell everyone that you are the real…” “Enough.” I couldn’t be bothered to listen to the rest and turned to look out the window. The passing scenery blurred backward rapidly, like fragments of time that could never be grasped. Before I crossed over to this world, I was an orphan. The day I was diagnosed with end-stage heart failure, I clutched the diagnosis report and sat in the hospital corridor all night. Finally, I passed out from the pain in my hospital bed, and when I opened my eyes again, I was a six-year-old girl. A voice echoed in my head: [When the conquest meter reaches its target and you marry Arthur Sterling, you can get the money to go back and cure your illness.] After that, there was only static. I thought I was having auditory hallucinations. But getting a second chance at life with a healthy body wasn’t too bad. The car drove smoothly. Liam gripped my wrist tightly, his thumb unconsciously caressing the back of my hand. It was a habit he had to comfort me whenever I had nightmares in the past. As an orphan, I used to be incredibly greedy for that tiny bit of warmth. I even thought about abandoning the mission and just staying in this world forever. Until Chloe appeared. She was an orphan girl I picked up from a war zone. But later, all the favoritism and love fell onto her. I went from acting spoiled and feeling wronged, to breaking down and becoming hysterical, only to finally earn one sentence from them: “Maya, you act like a lunatic.” The car stopped at the entrance of the military family compound. I shook off his hand, pushed open the door, and got out. Liam called out to me from behind, his voice trembling: “Maya… my leg is hurt… I hurt it trying to protect you…” I didn’t even turn my head: “If you’re hurt, go find a medic. What’s the point of telling me?” Pushing open the front door of our house, I saw Arthur feeding Chloe medicine. Seeing me return, Arthur’s face turned as cold as ice. He rushed forward and slapped me across the face. “Chloe stayed awake for three days and three nights because of you.” Chloe hurriedly reached out to stop him: “Arthur, it’s really not Maya’s fault, it’s just me worrying over nothing…” I watched this heartwarming melodrama with complete apathy. [Host, detected that your emotional fluctuation value has dropped to a critical point…] The system’s mechanical voice carried a rare hint of hesitation: [Are you… very sad?] [Chapter 2] That single sentence from the System almost made the tears I had forced back break through the dam. I roughly wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. Liam hobbled over to my side, but before he could speak, Chloe screamed and threw herself at him: “Liam! Your leg—!” Before she could finish her sentence, I stepped forward and slapped her, cutting her off. The crisp sound of the slap instantly silenced the entire living room. Chloe covered her face, her eyes wide as saucers. The next second, a massive force violently slammed me to the floor. Liam pointed at me, his eyes frozen over: “Maya, you’ve completely lost your mind! Apologize to Chloe!” I propped myself up from the floor and spat out the taste of blood in my mouth: “Me apologize? What’s wrong with me hitting a homewrecker? Arthur Sterling is my legally wedded husband!” Liam’s face grew even darker, his voice abruptly rising: “Nonsense! Arthur and Chloe were in love to begin with! You’re the one who kept pestering him!” “How did I end up with a sister as unreasonable as you!” I laughed out loud, but the tears wouldn’t stop falling: “I’m unreasonable? Right now, my name is on the marriage certificate, isn’t it?” Arthur spoke coldly: “It isn’t anymore. This morning, I already submitted the divorce papers. Our Sterling family will not accept a woman who goes crazy at the drop of a hat.” Liam yanked me up from the floor, his voice suppressing his rage: “Maya. Apologize.” I didn’t make a sound, my gaze sweeping over the people in front of me. Liam’s eyes were icy; Arthur’s eyes were filled with disgust. It was just like a year ago, when Chloe, who was always running around the military compound, was mistakenly identified as a spy. Liam couldn’t bear it. In front of the entire base, he announced that she was the true Sterling family heiress, the sister he had protected since childhood. And I, the actual Sterling family heiress, had to bear all the suspicion to protect her safety. “You have guards following you every time you leave the house. Chloe only has herself!” I was shocked, I resisted, I cried and screamed, but it was all useless. The way they looked at me then was exactly the same as they were looking at me now. My heart felt an indescribable exhaustion; even arguing felt superfluous. I shook off the guard’s hand, rushed into the living room, and grabbed a military combat knife from the table. Liam tried to rush over to stop me, but Chloe hugged his arm tightly: “Maya! Don’t do anything stupid!” I looked at Chloe and grinned: “Here’s my apology!” Ignoring Liam’s drastically changing expression and Arthur’s outstretched hand, I raised my arm and plunged the combat knife directly into my own chest. Screams erupted instantly. I laughed through my tears: “Is this life enough compensation for her?” “Are you satisfied now?” Warm blood poured out, and a wave of intense dizziness violently seized me. Amidst the chaotic roaring, my vision slowly faded to black. I saw the faces of those two men finally reveal expressions of absolute terror. Liam lunged forward to catch my sliding body, his voice shaking uncontrollably: “Medic! Call the medic right now!!” … The pungent smell of disinfectant pierced my nose. I opened my eyes, and the blinding white instantly made my heart race. Did I succeed? Turning my head, I met Liam’s bloodshot eyes. I closed my eyes in annoyance. His hoarse voice, for the first time ever, felt incredibly loud and irritating: “Maya! Who taught you to use self-mutilation to threaten people?!” I grew even more annoyed, feeling something uncomfortable digging into my neck. Reaching my hand up, I pulled out a custom-made medallion, engraved with the crooked word “Peace.” When I was thirteen, I fell into a coma for three days with a high fever at the border. Liam, risking disciplinary action, took his highest military honor medallion, had it modified into this, and then knelt up a thousand steps to beg a high monk to consecrate it. Later, when Chloe went on her first mission, he turned around and gave this very medallion to her. Now, it was back around my neck. But I only found it to be an eyesore. I yanked it off and casually threw it away. The hospital room door happened to be pushed open. Liam stood at the door, watching helplessly as the medallion landed at his feet. He looked up, staring dead at me: “Maya, you just threw it away?”

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The bleeding wouldn’t stop. I lay on the delivery bed, the overhead lights blindingly white. Someone shouted, “More pressure!” I could hear running, the sound of shoes squeaking frantically against the linoleum floor. My consciousness was sinking. I couldn’t feel the pain anymore. Just cold. A deep, creeping cold starting from the soles of my feet. The delivery room door wasn’t shut completely. Voices drifted in from the hallway. It was my mother-in-law, Martha. She was on the phone. “…Five hundred thousand dollars, that was the agreed-upon dowry. If she doesn’t make it, can we get that money back?” I heard it perfectly clearly. Every single word. 1. I didn’t die. The doctor said I hemorrhaged two liters of blood and they spent forty minutes trying to stabilize me. They managed to save my uterus. The baby lived, too. Six pounds, two ounces, a little boy. When the nurse brought the baby over for me to see, I was still shaking. Not from the cold, but because my body hadn’t fully returned from the edge. I looked at my son. A wrinkled little face, eyes squeezed shut, mouth opening and closing like a baby bird. I didn’t cry. I was thinking about that sentence. “If she doesn’t make it, can we get that money back?” The hospital room door opened. David walked in. He looked pale, his eyes a little red. He stood by the bed, looked at me for a moment, and said, “You scared me to death.” I looked back at him. “When you had to sign the consent forms, how long did you hesitate?” He froze. “What?” “To save the mother or save the child. When the doctor asked you to sign. How long did you hesitate?” “I didn’t hesitate,” he answered quickly. Too quickly. People don’t answer that fast when they’re telling the truth. I didn’t push it. I was too exhausted. Tubes were sticking out of me, and a blood transfusion was still dripping into my arm. I closed my eyes. David sat beside me for a while. He didn’t hold my hand. He didn’t ask if I was in pain. He was looking at his phone. Through my half-closed eyes, I saw the screen. It was a text thread with his mother. He was replying to her. I shut my eyes completely. Ten minutes later, the door opened again. Martha walked in. She was carrying a thermos, walked straight to my bedside, and set it on the nightstand. “You’re awake? Eat something.” She glanced at the baby, a smile breaking across her face. “Six pounds two ounces, not bad.” She opened the thermos, poured out a bowl of soup, and held it out to me. “Drink this, it’s pork rib broth.” I didn’t take it. I was staring at her face. This was a face I had looked at for three years. A round face, eyes that crinkled into slits when she smiled, a loud, booming voice. The neighbors all called her the friendly Mrs. Hayes. Twenty minutes ago, this same face was out in the hallway on the phone, voice lowered, weighing my worth like a piece of meat on a scale. Could they get the five hundred thousand dollar dowry back? While I was bleeding out, she was doing the math. “Mia, are you going to drink this or not?” she asked again, her voice a notch louder. I took the bowl. My hands were shaking. A little bit of broth spilled onto the blanket. She didn’t notice. She was too busy looking at the baby. “He looks just like David,” she smiled. I lowered my head and sipped the soup. I couldn’t taste anything. It tasted like absolutely nothing. That night, David went home. He said he needed to clean up the house and get things ready for the baby. Martha left, too. She said she’d be back first thing in the morning. Only the baby and I were left in the room. Out in the hallway, I could hear other new mothers talking, men’s voices coaxing them—”Does it hurt? What do you want to eat? I’ll go buy it.” The husband of the woman in the bed next to mine came back with a bouquet of flowers. On my nightstand sat that half-finished bowl of pork rib broth. Cold. No flowers. No fruit. Not a single “You went through so much today.” I rolled onto my side, facing the wall. The baby let out a tiny grunt from his bassinet. I closed my eyes. I didn’t cry. My brain just kept replaying that one sentence, over and over. “If she doesn’t make it, can we get that money back?” The next morning, the nurse came in for rounds. “Where’s your family? Why isn’t anyone here with you?” “They went home to clean up,” I said. The nurse gave me a look but didn’t say anything else. She changed my dressings, checked my bleeding, and told me to get plenty of rest. I asked her, “Yesterday, during the emergency… who signed the consent forms?” “Your husband.” “Did he… sign them quickly?” The nurse hesitated. “You just focus on resting.” She didn’t answer. But her hesitation was all the answer I needed. 2. On my third day postpartum, Martha came by. Not to see me. The first thing she said when she walked in was, “I looked into a postpartum doula. Twelve thousand a month, that’s way too expensive. I’ll just take care of you during your recovery. Save us some money.” I didn’t say anything. She continued, “And that postpartum rehab package you wanted? Eighteen hundred dollars? Don’t bother. Women in the old days never did any of that ‘postpartum rehab’ nonsense, and they turned out just fine.” I stared at her. Eighteen hundred dollars. On the third day after I almost died, she was here to haggle over my recovery. “You’re healthy, you’ll bounce back quick,” she said with a smile. “We’ll save that money for the baby.” I stayed silent. I had heard that exact phrasing before. During my first year of marriage, I wanted to join a yoga studio. The annual membership was three hundred bucks. Martha had said, “Why do you need to pay for classes? Just do it at home. Save that money; having a kid is expensive.” Three hundred bucks. That same year, for her daughter Sarah’s birthday, Martha bought her a $4,800 designer bag. She even opened the package right in front of me. I hadn’t said a word. Three hundred versus eighteen hundred—the numbers changed, but the principle remained the same. My money wasn’t real money; only her daughter’s money mattered. We didn’t hire a doula. Martha came to “take care” of me. Her version of taking care of me consisted of: Cooking breakfast, microwaving the leftovers for lunch, and David bringing home takeout for dinner. When the baby cried at night, Martha didn’t get up. “I’m older, I don’t sleep well. You handle the night shifts.” I was just a week out from a massive hemorrhage. My incision still ached terribly. I had to get up every two hours to nurse. And David? He slept in the guest room. “I have to work tomorrow, I need to sleep.” No one ever asked, “How are you doing? Does your incision still hurt?” On the fifth day, I spiked a low-grade fever. 100.7 degrees. I told David. He said, “Just take some Tylenol. You’re breastfeeding, you can’t go to the hospital anyway.” Then he left for work. Martha was in the living room watching TV. I took my own temperature, took the medicine myself, and filled a thermos with hot water to keep by my bed. The fever broke that afternoon. No one knew. And no one cared. That afternoon, while the baby was sleeping, I propped myself up against the headboard and scrolled through my phone. David had posted on Facebook: “Welcomed our baby boy! Both mother and son are safe and healthy. Thank you everyone for the well wishes!” Attached was a picture of the baby. No picture of me. The comments were flooded with “Congratulations!” and “David’s a dad now!” David replied to every single one with smiley face emojis. Both mother and son are safe and healthy. He used those exact words. As if I were merely an incubator. Now that my function was complete, the incubator itself was irrelevant. I set the phone down next to my pillow. No ‘like’. No comment. I got up and changed a diaper. On my twelfth day postpartum. David’s sister, Sarah, came to visit. She brought a case of imported formula, a set of baby clothes, and a pile of colorful gift bags that covered the entire table. She held the baby, gave him a few kisses, and chatted and laughed with Martha. No one called me out of my room. From the bedroom, I heard Martha ask, “This formula looks fancy. How much was it?” Sarah replied, “About eighty bucks a can.” Martha said, “It’s a little pricey, but it’s good quality. We should give the baby the best.” Eighty dollars a can for formula, and she says, “give the baby the best.” Eighteen hundred for my postpartum rehab, and she says, “women in the old days never did that.” Twelve thousand for a doula, and she says, “way too expensive.” Spending money on the baby? Acceptable. Spending money on her daughter? Acceptable. Spending money on me? Too expensive. I sat in the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and the sound of laughter from the living room drifted in waves. I looked down at my hands. My nails were clipped short, and the skin on my fingertips was peeling from constantly washing baby bottles in hot water. I tucked my hands under the blanket. When Sarah left, she walked past my bedroom door, peeked her head in, and said, “Rest up and get better soon, Mia!” Her tone was light and cheerful. She didn’t step inside. The door clicked shut. 3. My physical recovery went alright, all things considered. Not because Martha took good care of me, but because I pushed through it myself. On the day the baby turned one month old, David suggested having a family dinner to celebrate. I said fine. At the restaurant, Martha held the baby, basking in the compliments from a crowd of relatives. “Martha, you’re so blessed. Look how healthy your grandson is.” “David’s done well for himself, finding such a good wife.” Martha laughed and said, “Yes, Mia is a good girl, just a bit too frivolous with money sometimes. But young people, you know, they’ll learn.” Frivolous with money. I sat at the very edge of the table. I paid for this entire dinner. The formula, the diapers, the utilities for the past month—I paid for all of it. The groceries during my recovery, my own medication—I paid for it. And I was “frivolous with money.” I didn’t argue. I picked up a piece of food, chewed it twice, and swallowed. That night, after clearing the table and seeing everyone out. David was in the living room playing video games. Martha was in the bedroom with the baby. I was alone in the kitchen, washing dishes. By the time I got to the third plate, I stopped. Today was my birthday. Nobody had mentioned it. In our first year of marriage, David remembered and bought me a lipstick. The second year, he forgot. When I brought it up, he said, “We’ll celebrate another day.” That ‘another day’ never came. The third year was today. The baby’s one-month celebration. Everyone remembered the baby turning a month old. No one remembered my birthday. I put the plate in the drying rack. Dried my hands. Went out to the balcony to bring in the laundry. Folded it, put it in the closet. I did these things every single day. Today was no different. Two weeks later, on a quiet afternoon while the baby was sleeping, I was reviewing my bank statements. Our expenses had been high that month, and I wanted to balance the books. And then I saw a transfer. Three months ago. From my and David’s joint account. Two hundred thousand dollars. Recipient: Sarah Hayes. Memo: “Down payment.” I stared at that number for thirty seconds. Two hundred thousand dollars. For Sarah’s down payment on a house. From our joint account. I scrolled further back. This joint account was opened after we got married. Martha had suggested, “It’s easier to manage if the family’s money is pooled together.” At the time, I thought it made sense. Let the mother-in-law handle the finances; less for me to worry about. My dowry—the four hundred and eighty thousand dollars my parents had given me—was deposited into this account. David’s family had offered a five hundred thousand dollar “bride price.” My parents received it, kept twenty thousand as a token gesture, and returned the remaining four hundred and eighty thousand, plus some of their own money, back to me as my dowry. Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars. I kept scrolling. Eight months ago. A transfer of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Recipient: One of David’s cousins. Memo: “Loan repayment.” What loan? Four months ago. A transfer of eighty thousand dollars. Recipient: An investment firm. Memo: “Investment capital.” Who invested it? I scrolled some more. A smattering of smaller transfers—five thousand, eight thousand, three thousand… all sent to Martha’s personal checking account. Added together, it easily surpassed forty or fifty thousand. I closed the banking app. Opened the calculator. 200 + 150 + 80 + 50. Four hundred and eighty thousand. Exactly four hundred and eighty thousand. Down to the last penny, it matched my dowry. I sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. The screen was bright. The numbers glowed. My dowry. Not a single cent was left. The baby stirred in his crib beside me. I locked my phone. Placed it on the nightstand. Walked into the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and took a sip. My hands weren’t shaking. My heart wasn’t racing. But a string snapped inside my head. The string labeled “Family.” Things my mother-in-law had said lined up in my memory— “Pooling the dowry together is for the good of this family.” “We’re all one family, there’s no ‘yours’ and ‘mine’.” “What does it matter who holds onto the money?” It mattered a great deal. Because when she held onto it, it vanished. 4. I didn’t confront David immediately. Nor did I go looking for Martha. I called my best friend, Jen. Jen is a CPA working at a major accounting firm. After I told her everything, she was silent for five seconds. “Screenshot all the bank statements and send them to me right now.” I did. She reviewed them for twenty minutes before calling me back. “Mia, this two hundred thousand for Sarah’s down payment—is the house in her name?” “I assume so.” “The hundred and fifty thousand ‘loan repayment’—do you know whose debt that was?” “No idea.” “The eighty thousand investment—did David ever discuss that with you?” “No.” “Your entire four hundred and eighty thousand dollar dowry has been drained. Did you have any idea before today?” “None.” Jen fell silent again. “Look up the deed for Sarah’s house. And get me the name of that investment firm, I’ll run a background check on them.” “Okay.” “Mia.” “Yeah.” “Don’t let them know you know.” “I know.” Checking the deed was easy. While David was at work, I took a trip down to the county clerk’s office. With my marriage license and ID, I pulled the property records for Sarah’s new place. Purchased entirely in cash. Two hundred thousand dollars. Owner: Sarah Hayes. It had absolutely nothing to do with me. My two hundred thousand dollar dowry bought a house with my sister-in-law’s name on it. Jen got back to me, too. That investment firm—David was listed as one of the partners. The eighty thousand went in, but the company had filed for bankruptcy and dissolved six months ago. Dissolved. Eighty thousand dollars, gone. And that hundred and fifty thousand dollar “loan repayment”? Jen did some digging. It was money Martha’s brother had borrowed a decade ago. He defaulted, and Martha used my dowry to pay off his old debt. My dowry paid off my mother-in-law’s brother’s ten-year-old debt. I sat in Jen’s office. Spread out in front of me were three printed stacks of bank statements, a property record printout, and a corporate dissolution notice. “Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars,” Jen said. “Yeah.” “Does David know?” “I’m not sure.” Actually, I was sure. But I didn’t want to say it out loud. Because if he knew… That would destroy me far more than losing the four hundred and eighty thousand dollars. I went home. Evening. David got back from work. I was cooking dinner. He took off his shoes, walked to the kitchen doorway, and asked, “What’s for dinner tonight?” “Braised short ribs.” “Sounds good.” He turned to leave. “David.” “Yeah?” “The money for Sarah’s house… did we pay for that?” His back stiffened. Just for a moment. Maybe a second. Then he turned around. “Yeah, Mom said to let her borrow it for now, she’ll pay us back eventually.” Borrow. He used the word “borrow.” “How much was it?” I asked. “…About a hundred grand or so.” A hundred grand or so. It was two hundred thousand. He cut the number in half. “When did this happen?” “Sometime last year, while you were pregnant. Mom said not to tell you, she didn’t want you to stress over it.” Didn’t want me to stress over it. When I was eight months pregnant, I cut my finger while chopping vegetables in the kitchen. I had to find and put on a band-aid myself. Nobody stressed over that. But spending two hundred thousand dollars of my money? That, they didn’t want me to stress over. I didn’t ask any more questions. I turned back around and kept chopping vegetables. He left. The sound of the TV drifted in from the living room. I put the ribs in the pot and put the lid on. Then I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes. Not out of exhaustion. But because I had just confirmed a fact. He knew. He had known the entire time. 5. For the next few days, I didn’t act out of the ordinary. I cooked, took care of the baby, did the laundry. Martha would drop by occasionally, hold her grandson, and say things like, “He’s growing so fast,” or “He looks just like David when he was a baby.” I would smile and agree. But every night, after everyone had gone to sleep, I did one thing. I audited our finances. Not just the joint account. I checked David’s credit card statements—he had an authorized user card I didn’t know about, issued to Martha. She was spending one to two thousand dollars a month on it, all at department stores, supermarkets, and pharmacies. I checked our mortgage payments—the house was David’s before we got married. Martha paid the down payment, and the mortgage was in David’s name. But the monthly payments… I checked the history… for the last two years, every single payment had been deducted from our joint account. Meaning, my dowry had been paying off David’s mortgage. On a house I didn’t own. I ran the numbers again. The $480,000 dowry was entirely gone. Adding my salary from the three years we’d been married, I had contributed about $45,000 to the household—groceries, utilities, baby expenses, general living costs. $480,000 plus $45,000 equals $525,000. I stared at that number for a very long time. Five hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. Initially, the Hayes family offered a $500,000 “bride price.” My parents returned $480,000 of it. Doing the math, the Hayes family essentially paid a net total of $20,000. While I had put in a net total of $525,000. Who owed who? Outside the delivery room, Martha’s morbid calculation— “Can we get that five hundred thousand dollar dowry back?”— The five hundred thousand she was referring to was the initial amount the Hayes family offered. But she completely ignored the $480,000 she took back. And she certainly didn’t factor in the $45,000 I subsidized out of my own pocket. In her twisted ledger, the Hayes family spent five hundred thousand dollars to “buy” me. If I “died,” it was a bad investment. So she wanted a refund. I compiled all the numbers into a document and saved it on my phone. I password-protected it. Then I did something else. I called my mother. “Mom, you know that $480,000 dowry you gave me? Do you know what Martha did with it?” My mom went silent. “Mia, what’s wrong?” “Just answer the question first.” “…Your mother-in-law told me she put it in a high-yield CD for you two to use later.” A high-yield CD. Not a single cent was invested. It was all spent. My mom had no idea. My parents handed me the $480,000, I transferred it to the joint account, and Martha managed it. They thought the money was still there. The money had been gone for a long time. “Mom, it’s fine. I was just asking.” “Mia—” “Seriously, it’s fine. Don’t worry.” I hung up. I sat out on the balcony. The baby was on his playmat in the living room. The sun was shining brightly. I remembered my wedding day. My mom held my hand and said, “Live a good life with his family. If you ever run into any hardships, tell Mom.” I said I would. I thought “living a good life” meant cooking, raising kids, and not sweating the small stuff. I never imagined that the price of “living a good life” would be $525,000 and almost losing my life. That night, I unlocked David’s phone. I knew his passcode. I didn’t look at his texts with anyone else. I was looking for one specific thing. His chat history with Martha. I scrolled back to the day I gave birth. David: “Mom, the doctor says I need to sign the consent form to prioritize saving the mother.” Martha: “Don’t rush to sign anything just yet. Ask the doctor if there are any other options.” David: “She’s already hemorrhaging, it’s critical.” Martha: “I know it’s critical. But think about it—if you sign that, and what if… what happens to the money?” David: “…” Martha: “Just hold them off for a minute. Let me make a phone call and ask someone.” A gap of seven minutes. Seven minutes. Seven minutes while I was bleeding out in the delivery room. Then David sent a text: “Signed it.” Martha: “Fine, you signed it. If she pulls through, we’ll deal with the rest later.” I took screenshots of the conversation. I saved them to my personal email. Then I put his phone exactly back where I found it. My hands were perfectly steady. I had long passed the point of trembling. 6. The next day, I met Jen for lunch. I showed her all the documents. The bank statements. Property records. Company dissolution notice. Credit card bills. Mortgage payment history. Chat screenshots. And the document I created myself—the grand total of $525,000. Jen looked through it all without touching her food. “What are you going to do?” “Divorce him.” “And then?” “Get my money back.” “How?” “First, let me ask you a question.” “Shoot.” “The $480,000 dowry went into a joint account, but it was used entirely to benefit the Hayes family—buying Sarah a house, paying off his uncle’s debt, funding David’s investment. Legally, how is that classified?” Jen thought for a moment. “Although the dowry entered a joint account, its use was clearly a unilateral transfer to his relatives without your consent. This qualifies as the unauthorized disposal of joint marital assets by one spouse. You can argue that David should receive a smaller portion, or none at all, of the remaining assets during the divorce.” “Is that enough to get my money back?” “Yes. But you need a bulletproof chain of evidence.” I smiled. “I have it.” I printed out a complete set of all the screenshots, bank statements, and inquiry forms. I kept the digital originals. I made two sets of physical copies—one for Jen to keep, one to stash at my parents’ house. I went to see a lawyer. His name was Mr. Stevens, in his forties, and he had been handling divorce cases for over a decade. He reviewed the files. “The evidence is very strong,” he said. “In cases like this, there is a very high probability you can recover the vast majority of your dowry.” “I don’t want the vast majority.” “Hmm?” “I want all of it. $480,000. Every single cent.” Mr. Stevens gave me a look. “We can negotiate. You hold all the cards.” Leaving the law firm, I stood on the sidewalk for a moment. It was blazing hot. A brutal July sun. I remembered this time last year. I was eight months pregnant, taking an Uber by myself to my prenatal checkup. David said he had a meeting. Martha said her knee was acting up. I sat alone outside the ultrasound room waiting for my number to be called. Every other pregnant woman had someone with them. A husband, a mother-in-law. I was the only one alone. When the ultrasound printout came, I took a picture and sent it to David. He replied with an “Okay.” Just one word. Back then, I thought— Whatever, he’s busy. Looking back now— He wasn’t busy. He didn’t care. He hadn’t cared from the very beginning. The only things he cared about were what his mother said, the money his mother managed, and following every step his mother planned for him. I hailed a cab. “Driver, take me to Elm Street.” Elm Street was where my parents lived. It was time to tell them.

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I was born because my older sister had congenital heart disease. To save up for her surgery, my mom worked three part-time jobs a day, and my dad worked overtime until dawn every single night. My job was to stay home and take care of my sister. I fed her, rubbed her back when she was out of breath, and gave her sponge baths. If she even coughed, I had to jump up immediately to give her oxygen and her medication. Day and night, without a moment’s rest. But I never complained. I knew that if I were the sick one, they would take care of me just the same. Until I fainted right before Christmas. I went to the hospital and was diagnosed with a primary brainstem tumor. Looking at the diagnosis report—”The tumor is already compressing the medulla oblongata; it is extremely advanced. Inoperable”—my first thought was: If I’m gone, who will take care of my sister? How heartbroken will Mom and Dad be? It was only after I figured out a way to take care of them that I finally felt at peace and decided to go home and tell them. But standing at the front door, I heard my parents talking inside: “Sigh, today Chloe cried and told me she didn’t want to die. My heart just broke.” “She’s such a good girl, why did she have to get this disease?” “Why couldn’t it have been Mia who got sick? My poor Chloe hasn’t experienced a single day of health in her life.” My hand froze on the doorknob. I looked down at the signed Organ Donation Consent Form in my hand and let out a bitter smile. Mom, Dad, after New Year’s Eve, your wish will come true. 1 I tucked the consent form away, waited at the door for a few minutes, and then pushed it open. I acted as if nothing had happened, greeting them with a smile: “I’m home.” My mom’s mouth immediately turned down at the sight of me: “Running wild until now? The whole family is waiting on you.” “Hurry up and call your sister; she can’t go hungry.” I answered obediently, my steps into the house as light as ever. As if I hadn’t heard a single word just now. My sister lay in her darkened room, her breathing barely audible. I bent down and called her softly: “Chloe, it’s time to eat.” “Let me help you up, okay?” For a long moment, there was no movement. Worried, I reached out to feel her forehead: “Are you feeling sick?” Smack. Chloe slapped my hand away. Her hand fell weakly onto the blanket. She kept her eyes closed, refusing to look at me: “Get away from me. Don’t touch me.” I paused for a second, pretended I hadn’t heard, and continued trying to help her up. “Just eat a little bit, okay? Your body won’t be able to take it if you don’t.” “If you don’t want to move, I can bring it in and feed you, alright?” As soon as I offered to feed her, she slowly sat up, ready to go out and eat. I followed closely behind her, carefully hovering, finding a bitter sort of amusement in the situation. Just as I thought. She still hated me touching her so much that I could easily manipulate her with it. The moment we stepped out of her room, I blinked away the moisture in my eyes and put a smile back on my face: “Mom, Chloe’s up. We can eat now.” Our apartment was tiny. It was less than thirty feet from the bedroom to the dining table, yet Chloe was panting heavily by the time she made it. I followed behind her, watching her with concern, but didn’t dare reach out to support her. As we reached the table, Mom just happened to walk out of the kitchen. She rushed over, casually shoving me aside, and carefully helped Chloe sit down. I rubbed my hip, which had banged hard against the corner of the table, and let out a quiet hiss of pain. Chloe looked up, glaring at me, her breathing turning rapid: “Are you doing that on purpose? Mocking how pathetic I look when I have an episode?” Before I could open my mouth to explain, a slap from my dad landed squarely on my face: “You’re old enough to know better! Apologize right now, don’t make your sister angry!” He turned to Chloe, his voice instantly softening: “Chloe, ignore her. Your health is the most important thing. Try to stay calm.” I covered my face, my eyes stinging. I mumbled an apology, lowered my head, and tried to comfort myself. She doesn’t hate me. She’s just in a lot of pain from being sick. Chloe’s breathing quickly steadied, and my parents finally sat down with peace of mind. I pulled myself together and hurriedly served them rice. My mom was ladling soup for Chloe and motioned for me to put the rice bowl on the table: “Never home during the day, and now you want to play the good daughter.” “What exactly have you been so busy with these past few days?” My hand froze mid-air with the serving spoon. After being diagnosed with no hope of a cure, I had spent the last few days at the hospital, consulting about a heart transplant. Fortunately, my disease didn’t affect my other organs; my heart was perfectly viable for transplantation. I also found out that donating organs could yield some compensation. If I sold off my usable corneas, kidneys, and liver, it could bring in forty or fifty thousand dollars. That way, I could rest a little easier after I passed. Before I could answer, my mom continued, laying down the law: “From now on, you stay home and take care of your sister. Do you know how much pay I’ve been docked for missing work these past few days?” “Alright, that’s enough,” my dad interrupted her nagging, turning to me. “Didn’t you say you were going to the hospital to get those headaches checked out?” “How were the results? Everything okay?” “If you get sick too, this family won’t be able to afford it.” I lifted my bowl to hide my expression, trying my best to sound casual: “It’s nothing. The doctor said it’s just from staying up too late. It’ll go away on its own in a couple of days.” My mom’s brow furrowed tightly, casting a dissatisfied look my way: “I told you it was nothing. Running to the hospital over every little ache and pain, do you think tests are free?” “You’ve always loved wasting money since you were a kid.” I knew she just liked to complain. But hearing her scold me now still made my heart ache. I kept my head down, poking at the rice in my bowl with my chopsticks: “I’ve always been responsible. When have I ever wasted money?” My mom snorted disdainfully: “Plenty of times.” “When you were in elementary school, you insisted on taking oil painting classes. Wasn’t that a waste of money?” I had no rebuttal. Even now, I regret making a fuss about wanting to learn to paint. 2 In elementary school, I didn’t fully understand what Chloe’s illness meant. I didn’t know why my parents were always frowning. Seeing my desk mate taking oil painting classes, I went home and made a fuss about wanting to learn too. My mom flat-out refused with a dark expression, and even rolling on the floor throwing a tantrum didn’t work. A week later, Chloe secretly bought me brushes and paints. I excitedly hugged her, jumping and screaming with joy. But staying up late writing to earn that money took a toll on her fragile body; she had a severe episode and was hospitalized. In the hospital, thinking she was going to die, Chloe secretly told me: “I have a little bit of money left from writing, along with my allowance savings. It’s under my pillow.” “Mia, go home and get the money. Buy your own paints from now on.” Thankfully, she pulled through in the end. And I suddenly grew up. Later, when the paints Chloe bought ran out, I quietly packed away the supplies and stopped asking for more. When my mom casually asked about it one day, I sheepishly scratched my head: “Painting is too hard. I don’t want to learn anymore.” Lost in my memories, my mom assumed my silence meant I was feeling guilty, and she pressed her advantage: “It’s time you grew up. Stop running around all day not coming home.” Hearing her words, I felt a sense of helplessness: “Mom, I really wasn’t just out playing. I had things to do.” “Getting checked for that minor issue wouldn’t take all day. What could you possibly be doing, going out every single day this week?” “I…” I wanted to tell the truth, but seeing Chloe’s pale face next to me and remembering she couldn’t handle emotional stress, I swallowed the words back down. My mom seemed to think I had been caught in a lie and grew even angrier: “I just asked you to stay home and take care of your sister, and you dare make up excuses to slack off and run out.” “Raised you all these years for nothing.” “If it weren’t for needing someone to take care of Chloe later on, I never should have had you.” My dad also looked at me with disappointment: “Mia, when you were little, you used to say you’d grow up and protect your sister. Why are you being so disobedient now?” “Have you forgotten how good your sister was to you when you were kids?” Chloe kept her head down; I couldn’t see her expression. I only saw the hand holding her chopsticks clenched tight, the veins on the back of her hand starkly visible. I opened my mouth to explain, but a knock at the door interrupted me. My mom got up to answer it. It was our neighbor, Mrs. Gable. She held up a bag of oranges and gestured: “Your Mia was standing at the door for a long time just now, and she left something outside when she went in.” “Hurry and grab it, or someone might walk off with it.” My mom’s back went rigid. She forced out a few polite pleasantries and sent the neighbor away. She walked slowly back to the table and sat down, breaking the silence in the room: “Did you hear what your dad and I were saying? Is that why you were standing at the door?” I nodded gloomily, not saying a word. A flash of panic crossed my mom’s eyes, quickly replaced by forced composure: “I just remembered how you insisted on changing jobs last month, got mad, and said some things I didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.” I stayed silent, staring at my rice bowl, my mind completely blank. Seeing my silence, my mom’s tone took on an edge of irritation: “What I said wasn’t wrong at all.” “Why couldn’t it have been an ungrateful wretch like you who got sick?” “You want to change jobs because you think we’re dragging you down, just to shake us off.” Her words were like a sharp knife plunging into my heart. I looked at her in disbelief, my lips trembling, unable to make a sound. After graduating, I listened to my parents and found a job close to home. The pay was low, but it made it easy to help take care of Chloe. But this year, her health had been deteriorating rapidly, and the medical bills were piling up. Seeing my parents so anxious, I wanted to help, but there was nothing I could do. Until last month, when I received a great job offer. The salary was triple, the prospects were good—the only downside was that it was in another state. I was ecstatic. With this job, I could make more money, buy better medication for my sister, and lighten my parents’ load. I never expected my mom to disagree. I was utterly confused and was still trying to explain it to her. So that’s what they were thinking. 3 Tears slipped down unnoticed, landing on my hand and jolting me back to reality. My mom was still rattling off a list of my supposed crimes. I wanted to speak, to tell her I wasn’t going to change jobs anymore. After all, I only had a few days left to live; there was no point now. But a sudden onset of my symptoms cut off my explanation. A throbbing pain erupted in the back of my head, and my chest grew tight, like a heavy stone was pressing down on it. I gripped the table leg tightly to keep my balance. It wasn’t until the wave of pain passed that I noticed the anger on my mom’s face had intensified. She seemed to mistake my pain for defiance, her tone growing even harsher: “You think you’re all grown up now, so you dare give me an attitude?” “You tell me clearly right now: are you going to take care of your sister or not?!” “Enough!” Chloe braced herself against the table and stood up, looking embarrassed: “Stop it. I won’t need her help anymore.” “If she wants to work, let her go. I…” Before she could finish, she collapsed back into her chair, clutching her chest and gasping for air. My mom shoved me aside and rushed to Chloe, rubbing her back to soothe her, while barking orders at my dad: “Hurry! Go get Chloe’s medicine!” I crumpled to the floor, my vision going black in waves. I wanted to get up and help, but I couldn’t move. My dad was in such a rush to find the medicine he didn’t even see me on the floor. He didn’t even notice when he stepped hard on my hand as he passed by. At that moment, the agonizing headache consumed me; I couldn’t even focus on my crushed hand. Waves of sharp pain hit me, and I curled up on the floor, gritting my teeth. My parents’ gentle, concerned voices directed at my sister seemed to drift in from far away, blurry and indistinct. After what felt like an eternity, the pain finally subsided. I held onto the table and shakily got to my feet. Looking around the living room, I realized I was the only one left. A warm, yellow light spilled from my sister’s room, and through the crack in the door, I could vaguely see my mom tucking her in. I lowered my head and stood there. Even though I was in my own home, I felt like I had nowhere to go. It wasn’t until Chloe fell asleep that my mom tiptoed out of the room. Seeing me standing in the living room, her brow immediately furrowed. She walked over quickly and pinched the flesh on my arm hard: “Your sister is sick, and you’re just standing here like a log. Are your legs broken? Can you not move?” “Keep it quiet tonight, and make sure you’re taking good care of her!” Ignoring the pain in my arm, I looked at her with a sliver of desperate hope: “Mom, my head hurts so much…” But before I could finish, she cut me off: “Why don’t you just die of the pain then?!” “Faking sick every time I ask you to do something. Can you just act your age for once?!” My world plunged into a sudden silence; an empty, desolate void filled my heart. I could only see her mouth moving, but I couldn’t hear her voice. I nodded numbly until she stopped, looking satisfied. After she walked away, I instinctively went to my sister’s room. I don’t know how long I stood by her bed. By the time Chloe’s sarcastic voice broke the silence, my legs had gone completely numb. “Mia, stop pretending. You wish I were dead so you’d never have to take care of me again, don’t you?” Her dark, brooding gaze pinned me to the spot. When I was little, I thought my sister was the gentlest person in the world. She would knit me stuffed bunnies, read me stories, and softly comfort me when I cried. But I don’t know when it started—that gentle sister disappeared. Lost in thought, I didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need me to reply anyway: “So what if you’re healthy? I’m the daughter Mom and Dad love the most.” “In this house, you are the extra one!” “Get out now. Just looking at you makes me sick.” My heart ached, but I didn’t dare say anything, terrified of triggering another episode. I went back to the tiny storage closet that served as my room, lay down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling with wide, tear-filled eyes. It’s okay, I told myself. She’s sick. She needs their love more. That’s why Mom and Dad ignore me sometimes. Once she has the surgery, everything will be fine. 4 The hospital moved quickly. A couple of days later, my parents got the call. Someone had donated a heart. After the holidays, Chloe could prep for surgery. Seeing a glimmer of hope, smiles finally returned to my parents’ faces. Light returned to my sister’s eyes too; she no longer seemed to have given up completely. Seeing my family so hopeful, I swallowed the fear and reluctance in my heart. And waited with them for Christmas to arrive. On Christmas Eve morning, taking advantage of my mom’s good mood, I whined and asked her to make sweet and sour ribs for dinner. Unable to resist my clinging, she laughed, scolded me playfully, and agreed. Because of Chloe’s illness, there were many things she couldn’t eat. Money was always tight, so our meals usually consisted of the same few bland, healthy dishes. I loved sweet and sour ribs, but I hardly ever got to eat them. Thinking about having them tonight, I even forgot my fear of checking into the hospital soon. All I felt was anticipation. But when it was time for dinner, there were no sweet and sour ribs on the table. I looked at my mom, confused: “Are there still dishes in the kitchen? I’ll go get them.” My mom answered casually while ladling soup for Chloe: “Your sister said she wanted shrimp, so I didn’t buy ribs.” “Shrimp is just as good, it’s still a treat.” I told myself I needed to be understanding. The family was under a lot of financial pressure, and my parents didn’t have a choice. But I still heard my own voice trembling: “Mom, do you remember I’m allergic to shrimp?” She glanced back at me, her tone impatient: “Can’t you just eat the vegetables? Do you absolutely have to have meat? Are you as fragile as Chloe now?” “She hasn’t had much of an appetite lately, and today she finally craved something.” “You can have your sweet and sour ribs some other time.” I stood frozen, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t speak. But Mom… I don’t have a “some other time.” A sour ache filled my chest, and I couldn’t stop the large tears from crashing onto the floor. My dad looked at me with disgust and grumbled: “Throwing a tantrum over something so trivial. Let’s eat and ignore her.” “She’ll come eat when she’s tired of crying.” Soon, the sounds of their cheerful laughter filled the living room. Standing right next to them, I felt like a ghost, entirely unnoticed. “In this house, you are the extra one!” Chloe’s words echoed in my ears. This time, I couldn’t find a single reason to argue with her. Early the next morning, I packed my things and checked myself into the hospital. My condition had been worsening, and the doctors had been urging me to admit myself for days. I just didn’t want my family to worry about me missing the holidays, and I wanted to spend one last Christmas at home. That’s why I dragged it out until now. While I was in the hospital, my mom kept texting me, scolding me: “You ungrateful brat, running away from home just because you missed out on one dish? If you’ve got the guts, don’t ever come back.” I brushed her off with the excuse that I was busy job hunting. A couple of days later, she texted again: “Your sister is in the hospital prepping for surgery, and you can’t even be bothered to come see her?” I lay in my hospital bed and smiled bitterly. Mom, I’m actually staying right on the floor above you. I see everything. After I was admitted, my symptoms worsened daily. I kept slipping into semi-comatose states. The entire right side of my body was paralyzed; I couldn’t even turn my head properly. Until one time, I woke up from a sleep and realized I was a spirit. I floated downstairs to find my family. My parents were waiting outside the operating room. My mom’s face was pale and tense, her hands gripping my dad’s shirt tight. They were both muttering under their breath, praying non-stop. Three hours later, the doctor walked out. He pulled down his mask, a tired smile on his face: “Congratulations, the surgery was very successful.” My mom stumbled, as if all the strength had been drained from her body, and collapsed to her knees. My dad’s eyes instantly went red, and he let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. Soon, Chloe was wheeled out and taken to the ICU. Seeing her resting peacefully in the bed, my parents finally calmed down. And they finally remembered me. My mom couldn’t help but complain to my dad: “I don’t know what Mia is so busy with.” “She barely replies to my texts lately, takes half a day to send one back.” “I told her her sister was having surgery today. Even if she couldn’t be here, she could have at least called to check in.” My dad frowned slightly, then quickly smoothed his expression: “She’s drifted apart from us.” “Once Chloe recovers from the surgery, we won’t need her anyway.” “We’ll just focus on taking care of Chloe from now on, and let her be.” I floated beside them, listening to everything. So souls can feel pain, too. My mom looked like she wanted to argue, but her phone rang, interrupting her. She glanced at it casually, answered it, and put it to her ear. “Hello, is this the family of Mia Hayes?” “The donor’s organ recovery surgery has been successfully completed. Please bring your identification to the morgue at Central Hospital to claim the remains.”

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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.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394930”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

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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