Category: English

Everyone knew my boyfriend worked twenty-hour shooting days just to marry me. Even when he had no time to eat and coughed up blood on set, he’d just rinse his mouth and get back on the wire rigging. The day he won Best Actor, he finally felt he could give me the happiness I deserved. I stood there in my wedding dress, eyes red under the spotlight, reaching my hand toward him. He paused. Then turned and slipped the diamond ring onto the hand of his girlfriend from five years ago. The same ex-girlfriend he’d sworn five years ago he’d never contact again. “Sorry. All these years, I wasn’t actually doing this for you. I let you misunderstand. My apologies.” He shielded her as they left the venue. His friend laughed mockingly: “Sorry, Lydia. Actually, they’ve been together this whole five years. You seemed pretty into Holden, so we didn’t want to embarrass you by mentioning it.” I stood frozen in place. My best friend screamed over the phone: “What are you standing there for! Chase him down! Slap him!” I didn’t dare chase after them. Because his ex-girlfriend had died five years ago.

Everyone knew Holden Pierce was going to propose to me. Even I could see it coming. So I’d put on my wedding dress early. But now my wedding dress looked utterly ridiculous, captured in full by the entertainment reporters’ cameras. I didn’t move. I just stared in shock as Holden shielded Hannah in his arms, protecting her eyes from the camera flashes. My mouth opened, but no words came out. Though the girl wore a mask, her figure, her silhouette, the way she walked—all of it was identical to Hannah, who had died long ago! Holden didn’t know about Hannah’s death. Back then, he’d just sworn an oath never to see Hannah again. He’d even deleted all her contact information right in front of me. At first I’d been wary. But soon I let my guard down. Hannah’s body had been found in a storm drain. She’d cut ties with her parents long ago. No family to claim her. In the end, I was the one who paid for the young woman’s burial. I never told Holden. After all, she was his first love, and he was at a critical point in his career. I was afraid it would affect his state of mind. I’d watched them lower her into the ground with my own eyes. So who was this girl?! “Oh my, she still hasn’t reacted? Did the shock make her brain-dead?” “Serves her right! That’s what you get for clinging to Holden! Bet you didn’t see this coming—our man never even liked you!” “Love it!” My manager Sharon rushed out and dragged my dazed self into the car. “Are you stupid? Just standing there letting everyone watch you humiliate yourself!” “No, Sharon…” “Don’t talk. Look at the trending topics—we’re being destroyed!” I quickly opened the list. The top item read: [Holden Pierce: Never dated her, she’s been obsessively pursuing me] “Her” meant me. After Holden left the venue, he released a statement. Though Holden and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, the company never allowed us to acknowledge it publicly for the sake of our careers. All these years, countless people had accused me of being shameless, of endlessly chasing after their idol. Back then, Holden had held me close: “When your man wins Best Actor, I’ll propose to you right there in public. Let’s see who dares stop us then!” But now his statement clearly declared: [I have no private relationship with Miss Lydia. Throughout my career, I’ve only ever worked to marry my first love, Miss Hannah.] The attached photo showed him kneeling on one knee, slipping the ring onto Hannah’s finger.

To keep Hannah from being affected, he’d deliberately blurred out her face. A message popped up from his friend: [Sorry, Lydia. They actually never broke up. We knew you really liked Holden, so we kept giving you face and didn’t say anything.] [They’re already engaged. You should stop pursuing him.] Sharon snorted coldly: “Now they’re telling you to stop pursuing him? Wasn’t it him who fell for you at first sight and pursued you relentlessly? You didn’t even want to date him at first! These men—they ruin you, then blame you for it!” I said nothing. My mind kept repeating: “They actually never broke up.” For five years, had Holden been in contact with a dead woman? “With things like this between you two, I’ll cancel that variety show you were both supposed to do.” “Don’t cancel it!” I stopped Sharon. Sharon looked at me in surprise. “Don’t tell me… you still have feelings for him?” “Didn’t he say I’ve been the one pursuing him all along? Then let the whole country see who’s been pursuing who!” And while I was at it, I wanted to ask about Hannah—what exactly was going on? I still chose to participate in the variety show. Holden was somewhat surprised. He smiled coldly: “What, still can’t let go?” I didn’t answer. The host stirred up drama: “I heard that for the past five years, Miss Lydia has been the one hyping up your relationship with Mr. Pierce. May I ask, did you not know Mr. Pierce had someone he liked?” “I knew.” The comments section exploded: [I knew it! Lydia’s cheap to the bone! Knowing he had someone, still throwing herself at him! Taking advantage of the fact that his civilian girlfriend has no voice in this! What a bitch!] [Though I don’t like Holden’s civilian girlfriend either, I hate Lydia even more! I support the civilian girlfriend!] “Who said I was the one throwing myself at him?” I looked up. The next second, the big screen suddenly displayed screenshot after screenshot of chat records. The comments froze for a moment. Because everyone could see that in the beginning, it was Holden who pursued me. Holden’s breathing hitched. The comments gradually started flowing again: [Wait… why is Holden being so clingy with her? Isn’t Holden supposed to be our aloof male god?] [Oh my god, Holden called her baby! Holden, you stoic person using such sweet talk! Do you know how devastating that is!] [Is that the point! The point is your Holden was two-timing!] “Why are you showing this stuff!” Holden gritted his teeth. I laughed coldly: “Someone can spread rumors that I’ve been obsessively pursuing you all these years, but I can’t make our chat records public?” I pointed to the message he’d sent recently: “‘If I win Best Actor this time, will you marry me?’ Look, Holden, those are your words. You were the one who proposed to me!” Holden’s face went pale. The comments went wild: [This isn’t what I expected. From this perspective, it’s clearly Holden who deceived Lydia!] [Though I’m a Lydia hater, wasn’t this basically a proposal from Holden!] [Then what does it mean to publicly give the ring to someone else? Either way, deceiving someone’s feelings isn’t right, is it?] “Excuse me.” A familiar voice rang out. My back went cold. A girl slowly walked out from backstage. “Please don’t believe these chat records.” This voice… it was Hannah’s… exactly the same!

A slender silhouette stood at the front of the stage. Hannah removed her mask. In that moment, the entire venue gasped. She was stunning. Completely beyond civilian-level beauty. I too stood frozen. Not from being dazzled. I’d seen Hannah’s beauty before. But I was shocked that she looked exactly the same as before—the same beauty. Hannah wasn’t dead? Then who was the person I’d watched being buried five years ago… “Sorry, Lydia.” The friend who joined Holden on the variety show laughed: “Actually, those chat records of yours—I was the one chatting, pretending to be Holden.” “What?!” Holden’s friend Ethan scratched his head: “You kept pursuing Holden before, and Holden was afraid that if he rejected you, you’d drag everyone down together, which would be bad for everyone’s careers. So he opened an alternate account and had me chat with you instead.” [It was like this all along hahaha! Lydia must be dumbfounded haha!] So… all these years, Holden had been enjoying our physical intimacy offline, then having someone else handle me online? Ethan leaned down, speaking in a voice only we could hear: “It was just for fun. Don’t take it seriously. You can’t break them up. I deliberately sent that proposal message hoping you’d finally know your place.” Break them up? Ha. When had I ever tried to break them up? When I found out Holden had a white moonlight, I wanted to break up. He was the one who swore he’d never see her again. After that, his behavior was good. That’s why I stayed until today. I looked at Holden with red eyes: “Are you lying to me?” “Lydia, he’s not lying to you.” It was Hannah who spoke. “Because I have Pierce’s real chat records right here.” As she spoke, the big screen displayed a messaging interface. The chat background was a photo of Holden and Hannah together. My chat records with Holden spanned five years. Theirs spanned fifteen years. The comments scrolled frantically: [This feels right! When chatting with Hannah, Holden is aloof yet doting.] [Not even aloof! Look at that conversation on the 15th—Holden was acting cute with her~] [It took me zero seconds to ship this CP] [Look at Lydia! Staring at the screen like she’s brain-dead hahaha!] [Serves her right! Always chasing after our Holden, even trying to claim our Holden was simping for her. Can we start requiring psychological evaluations before entering entertainment?] [Exactly! We don’t need these delusional fangirls!] I truly did freeze in place. Staring hard at the big screen. April 11th of that year. The day Hannah died. At midnight that day, Hannah had sent her a message right on time: [You there?] My gaze slowly shifted from the screen to Hannah’s face. Too beautiful. Beautiful to an unreasonable degree. To a disturbing level… “Lydia.” She had already approached: “Thank you.” “For what?” She leaned closer, speaking in a voice only we could hear: “Thank you for collecting my body…” “Ah!” I cried out and stepped back. Hannah also showed a panicked expression. She stumbled several steps, nearly falling. Fortunately, Holden caught her steadily in his arms. Her eyes reddened: “Lydia, we were talking fine, why did you suddenly fall backward?”

“Holden, I didn’t do anything, I really…” She clutched Holden’s sleeve, her eyes glistening. Holden’s voice softened: “I know. Of course I know.” He shielded her behind him. Glaring coldly at me: “Lydia, don’t use your dirty tricks on Hannah! Bullying a civilian—is this your professional standard?” The comments chimed in: [I recorded it! I’m a witness! Hannah didn’t push her at all!] [That’s right! Lydia fell backward on her own!] [You think you’re acting? Nobody here tolerates manipulative behavior!] [Hilarious. She’s at least a B-list actress, yet she uses these tactics on a civilian. No wonder Holden doesn’t like her.] Hannah hid behind Holden. A mocking smile crossed her lips. Gone in an instant. My phone buzzed. I swallowed hard. It was my best friend Morgan. “Excuse me, I need to take this call.” [Tsk tsk tsk! Is this the manipulator running away after being exposed?] [Hahaha if it were me I’d find a hole to crawl into] [Everyone check trending topic #1! Lydia’s fake fall getting roasted, go laugh at her!] I answered the call: “Morgan?” “Run.” Those two short words from Morgan sent a chill down my spine. “What did you say?” I asked again, not wanting to believe it. “Look at the message I sent you.” Morgan’s message popped up. One glance was all it took. I immediately covered my screen. The host patted my shoulder: “Miss Lydia, are you unable to continue filming?” I swallowed: “Of course not…” “We understand.” The host smiled: “After all, the real purpose of our variety show is for Mr. Pierce and Miss Hannah to make their relationship official. They’re already promoting their wedding. We completely understand if you can’t bear to watch.” “This is too much!” Sharon slammed the table: “You deliberately called Lydia here to be a prop for those two! I wondered why all today’s guests were people Lydia and Holden knew! So you brought Lydia here specifically to humiliate her!” The host’s lips curled in a cold smile: “Even so, didn’t Miss Lydia come anyway? Doesn’t that mean Miss Lydia chose to pursue him?” “You—” I quickly stopped Sharon. Holden had already walked over with Hannah. He looked at me: “It’s fine. I won’t mock your embarrassment. After all, I didn’t come here to fight with you. I hope Hannah and I can receive your blessing. In three days, would you be willing to attend our wedding?” [Hahaha dying! Holden with the killing blow!] [Telling your simp ‘will you attend my wedding’? Lydia’s gonna cry herself to sleep tonight!] I bit my lip. He smirked: “If you don’t want to, that’s fine, I—” “I do!” I held down Sharon, who wanted to curse them out. Both Holden and Hannah froze. I smiled: “Don’t worry. I’ll definitely give you both a valuable gift.” Holden frowned. “Then it’s settled. See you in three days!” With that, I didn’t give them time to react—I pulled Sharon and left. Never looked back at him once. As I walked, I couldn’t help but smirk— Holden, in three days, when you actually marry her, I hope you don’t regret it.

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I landed a huge deal overseas, and before boarding my flight home, I bought souvenirs for everyone in the department. When my assistant was counting heads, she accidentally left out Bowman. I told her it was fine and gave him mine instead. He took it, then hurled the souvenir right at my face. Everyone froze. “Left out by accident? More like deliberately humiliating me, right? So you signed one deal—what’s there to be so proud of? With one word from me, I could have you transferred to security tomorrow.” My assistant couldn’t hold back and shot back: “What gives you the right?” Bowman sneered: “Because I’m the chairman’s son!” I was stunned too. You’re Anderson’s son? Then who am I? My colleagues erupted into chatter. “The chairman’s son? Really? I’ve never heard of this…” “Look at how he carries himself—I always thought there was something different about him.” “Now that I think about it, he posted a photo on Twitter of him having dinner with the chairman at that revolving restaurant. I thought it was Photoshopped…” “No wonder Susan treats him so well. Last time he was half an hour late and she didn’t even mark it down.” “Alex is screwed now. Sales champion or not, what good ending can come from offending the chairman’s son?” Bowman’s chin lifted even higher as he listened to the gossip, contempt practically overflowing from his eyes. He pointed his finger right at my nose. “Alex, you hear that? Scared now?” He scoffed. “But you know what? I’m a generous guy.” “Right here, right now, get on your knees and kowtow to me three times.” “If I’m in a good mood, maybe I’ll let you stay in the office with the AC.” The chatter stopped instantly. My female assistant Betty lurched forward, her face flushed red with anger. “Bowman, don’t go too far! Alex has been the company’s sales champion three years running!” “How many deals has he closed for this company? How many clients has he brought in?” “Even if you really are the chairman’s son, you have no right to make him kneel!” Confronted publicly, the fake composure on Bowman’s face crumbled immediately. Humiliated and furious, his eyes flashed with malice as he raised his hand to slap Betty across the face. In that critical moment, I caught his wrist, gripping it hard enough that he couldn’t move. “You dare lay a hand on my people?” I stared him down. Bowman struggled but couldn’t break free, his expression turning ugly. “Alex! Let me go, damn it!” Just then, a cold but authoritative female voice rang out from the department entrance: “What’s going on? Why is everyone gathered here?” It was CEO Susan. She wore a crisp white suit, her gaze sweeping over the chaos before settling on my hand gripping Bowman’s wrist. Her brow furrowed immediately, her tone carrying an undeniable command: “Alex, let him go.” I released my grip. Bowman shook out his wrist, his face now wearing an expression of being terribly wronged. Betty hurried to speak: “Susan! Bowman was the one who—” “Susan!” Bowman’s voice was louder, cutting Betty off directly. He pointed at his wrist, then at me. “Alex attacked me first! I just said a few words to him and he tried to hit me! Everyone saw it!” Susan’s gaze sliced across my face like a knife, not giving Betty a chance to finish. “Alex!” “Do you think signing one big deal means you can do whatever you want? Attacking a colleague in the office? What do you think you’re doing?!” “Susan, it’s not what—” I tried to explain. “I don’t want to hear your explanations!” Susan cut me off sharply. “I only believe what I see with my own eyes! Bowman is an intern, and you’re a senior employee and our top salesperson—you should be setting an example!” “Look at yourself right now!” “Arguing with an intern, and getting physical?” “Where’s your professionalism?!” She berated me relentlessly, every word dripping with favoritism. The colleagues around us held their breath. No one dared interrupt at this moment. But their exchanged glances spoke volumes. “See? Susan’s clearly siding with him…” “This favoritism is way too obvious.” “He really is the chairman’s son.” “Alex is done for, with Susan’s attitude…” “Sales champion or not, he’s nothing compared to the chairman’s son.”

Bowman stood behind Susan, tilting his head slightly to flash me a smile full of provocation. Susan took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing her anger. She looked at me, her tone icy: “Alex, I’m giving you one day to write a thorough self-criticism and submit it to my office first thing tomorrow morning.” “Then publicly apologize to Bowman.” “If you don’t handle this properly, your quarterly bonus and year-end evaluation—well, you can figure that out yourself.” She finished, then turned to Bowman. Her tone immediately softened, even carrying a note of comfort: “Bowman, are you okay? Come with me to my office.” Bowman smugly adjusted his collar, and as he passed me, he let out a contemptuous snort that only the two of us could hear. Susan led him away under everyone’s watchful eyes. The department fell silent as death. Betty looked at me with reddened eyes, her face full of guilt and indignation. “Alex, I’m sorry. This is all my fault…” I told her it was fine. Betty was still worried. “Alex, what if he really does transfer you to security?” “You’re the backbone of our department…” I patted her shoulder with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, that’s impossible.” It really was impossible. Because the chairman Bowman claimed could decide my fate with one sentence was my father. On my college graduation day, my father called me into his study. “Alex, come straight to headquarters after graduation. Start as my assistant.” “Working by my side, you’ll learn a lot and see operations at every level. It’ll be good for when you eventually take over the company.” Back then, young and spirited, I had something to prove, so I refused. “I want to make it on my own,” I said, looking him in the eye, my tone firm. “I want to hide my identity and start from the bottom as a salesperson at a branch office.” “I want to know how far I can go, what I can achieve, without the ‘chairman’s son’ label.” My father paused, then slowly broke into a gratified smile. He stood up, walked around the desk, and clapped me hard on the shoulder. “Good! That’s the spirit! That’s my son!” “Go ahead. I support you.” “But don’t expect any special treatment from me.” So I joined the company as a fresh graduate, becoming the most ordinary salesperson in the sales department. No one knew about my relationship with the chairman, including Susan, whom my father valued highly. Those four years weren’t easy. In the first two months, I couldn’t close a single decent deal. I made hundreds of calls a day, all rejected. I knocked on countless doors that slammed in my face. I visited clients under the scorching sun, had my proposals torn apart—it was routine. I remember once, to win over a potential client, I showed up outside their office building an hour early for a whole week, hoping for a “chance encounter.” I got five minutes of their time. Though that attempt failed, I remembered the industry pain points they mentioned in passing and pulled all-nighters revising my proposal. In the third month, I closed my first deal. The amount wasn’t huge—just over a hundred thousand. But it was earned through my own trial and error, constant setbacks and lessons learned. The sense of accomplishment was far greater than I’d imagined. I finally found the right approach. Instead of blindly cold-calling and door-knocking, I studied our products in depth, analyzed the market, and precisely targeted client demographics. I spent my free time devouring industry reports and market data. Soon I landed an annual contract worth eight million. That deal made me famous in the sales department. In just four years, I went from a green graduate to business manager at the branch. Starting from zero to three consecutive years as sales champion. One step at a time, without the “chairman’s son” label anywhere on me. Every achievement was earned through sweat, brainpower, and persistence after countless failures. I knew every detail of the business, understood every market trend, and recognized every client need. I won honestly, and I won with integrity. Never did I expect to be humiliated by an intern today. More ironic still, he was impersonating my identity. And I, the real “chairman’s son,” was being ordered by the CEO to write a self-criticism and publicly apologize for “offending” this impostor. It was a complete joke. Back in my office, I sat in my chair, staring at my dark phone screen. After hesitating, I pulled up my father’s number and dialed. But all I got was the cold system message: “Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently turned off…”

I paused, then remembered. My father was overseas these few days attending an important industry conference. He was probably still on the plane or in a meeting. So I had to let it go. The next morning, Susan called a company-wide meeting. The agenda was to summarize the year’s performance and announce this year’s sales champion. The conference room was packed. The atmosphere grew subtly tense after Susan took the stage. She went through the usual opening pleasantries, then got straight to the point. “After rigorous calculations by the finance and operations departments, this year’s sales champion is…” She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room. Many eyes instinctively focused on me. Three consecutive years as sales champion, plus the hundred-million-dollar deal I’d just closed—the result should have been obvious. But the next second, Susan clearly announced: “Bowman.” For an instant, you could hear a pin drop in the conference room. Then it exploded. “Who? Bowman? That intern?” “Are you kidding? He hasn’t even closed a single independent deal, has he?” “What about Alex’s hundred-million-dollar contract? How is this possible!” Voices of protest rose and fell. Scott, the sales department’s deputy manager, was the first to stand. His face flushed red, his voice trembling with emotion. “Susan! Is there a mistake with this result?” “Bowman’s performance in the system is practically zero. How could he possibly be sales champion?” “Alex’s performance is clear for everyone to see!” Lester, the marketing director, also frowned and spoke up. “Susan, we need a reasonable explanation, because this concerns the fairness and integrity of the company’s evaluation system.” Even the logistics department supervisor, who usually stayed out of such matters, couldn’t help commenting. “Yeah, Susan, this… this really doesn’t make sense.” Facing the tide of questions, Susan’s expression remained unchanged. She raised her hand to quiet the discussion, her tone calm but unquestionable. “There are no errors in the calculations.” “Although Bowman hasn’t completed many deals independently, he assisted the team in following up on multiple important projects.” “Including the overseas deal Alex recently closed—he did a tremendous amount of coordination and support work behind the scenes. His contribution was significant.” “The company evaluates comprehensive contribution value, not just contract amounts.” Scott immediately retorted. “Susan! That overseas deal was negotiated and closed entirely by Alex independently. Bowman just did some basic data compilation work as assigned.” “How can that count?” “Scott!” Susan cut him off sharply, her voice rising, her eyes sharp. “Are you questioning the company’s calculation abilities, or questioning my judgment?” Without waiting for Scott to answer, her gaze swept across the room. “The company has decided to reward Bowman with three million dollars in cash to recognize his perhaps less visible but absolutely critical contributions!” “I know everyone has questions, but please trust that the company’s decision is based on comprehensive consideration!” “I don’t want to hear any more baseless speculation and criticism!” As she finished, she slammed her hand down on the podium with a loud “bang.” The entire conference room went silent instantly, leaving only her slightly labored breathing. I frowned. Everyone was shocked into silence by this rare outburst. Though faces still showed defiance and confusion, no one dared speak up again. In this eerie silence, Bowman walked up to the stage with a spring in his step. His face couldn’t hide his smugness, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. As he took the ceremonial check from Susan, he even made a show of bowing slightly with false modesty. Facing everyone, he cleared his throat and began his speech. “Thank you for the company’s recognition, and thank you for Susan’s trust.” “Actually, I haven’t done nearly enough—just fulfilled an intern’s basic duties.” “Getting this award is truly an unexpected surprise.” “Here, I’d especially like to thank Manager Alex. Although…” “Some unpleasantness occurred before, he is indeed my senior, and I’ve learned quite a bit from him.” His words seemed humble, but his darting eyes and slightly raised chin revealed nothing but hypocrisy and provocation. Watching this absurd farce, listening to Bowman’s fake speech, the fury in my chest finally broke through its limits. Sitting here any longer would be an insult to all the effort and sweat I’d put in over the past four years. I stood up, ready to leave this nauseating place. “Alex!” Susan called out to me.

I stopped but didn’t turn around, my back to the podium. She walked to the front of the stage, her voice carrying through the microphone to fill the conference room. “Don’t leave yet!” “Yesterday you attacked a colleague in the department. You didn’t write a self-criticism, and you didn’t publicly apologize.” “And now what’s your attitude? Leaving before the meeting’s even over?” Without waiting for my response, she continued in front of everyone. “Given your recent terrible behavior—not only arrogant after your success, bullying a new intern, but even getting physical in a public company space.” “You’ve seriously violated company regulations and destroyed team harmony!” “After management discussion, starting tomorrow, you’ll be removed from your sales manager position and report to the logistics department, responsible for security at the main entrance of headquarters!” “I hope in this new position, you can properly reflect on your words, actions, and attitude!” “When you recognize your mistakes, then I’ll consider transferring you back to your original position!” I laughed bitterly. “Susan, no need to make it so complicated with all these transfers.” “I quit.” “If the sales department has any problems in the future, please ask Bowman to solve them.” “Don’t bother me.” I turned to leave the conference room. Behind me came Susan’s icy voice. “Alex, you think the company can’t function without you? You think way too highly of yourself!” I didn’t stop. She continued her mockery. “Without the company’s platform, you’re nothing! You won’t even be able to find a decent job!” Bowman hypocritically chased after me. “Manager Alex, don’t be impulsive!” “Jobs are hard to find these days. Being able to stay with our company as a security guard is already pretty good—at least it’s stable.” I shook him off forcefully and slammed the door in everyone’s sight. That evening, I got a call from my childhood friend Phillips, who’d just returned to the country this month. “Alex, it’s my birthday tomorrow. I’m throwing a party at the estate—you absolutely have to come.” Thinking of how long it had been since we’d seen each other, I agreed. Then I sent my father a message. The next day, the Phillips estate was lively and bustling. As the only son of Seattle’s wealthiest family, Phillips’s birthday party was naturally grand and spectacular. Celebrities from all sectors gathered, and every major company sent representatives to offer congratulations. Susan and Bowman were there too. I’d just walked into the venue in simple casual clothes when I immediately caught their attention. “Well, if it isn’t our fired sales champion.” Bowman walked over with a wine glass, chin high, his voice loud enough for the entire venue to hear. “What’s this? Fired but still can’t let go, so you came here to beg for scraps?” Susan immediately chimed in, her tone cutting. “Everyone, look—this is our company’s former employee, Alex.” “Just fired yesterday for stealing company property, and today he dares to sneak into the Phillips family party!” The surrounding guests turned to look, their pointing and whispering rising and falling. “Security!” Bowman shouted loudly. “There’s a thief who snuck in here! Throw this social scum out!” Susan escalated her slander even further. “Everyone might not know—this person didn’t just steal, he also sexually harassed female colleagues at the company.” “After being fired, he held a grudge. He’s definitely here today to cause trouble!” Several guests began loudly jeering. “Get out!” “Trash like this doesn’t deserve to be here!” “How did the Phillips family let someone like this in?” “Look at how shabby he looks—he’s definitely here to steal!” “Security, hurry up and kick this social reject out!” “People like this should be in prison!” Just as the security guards started walking toward me, a voice came from the staircase. “What’s going on?” Phillips, wearing a custom suit, descended the stairs with composure. Under everyone’s gaze, he walked straight to me and gave me a forceful hug. “Alex, I’ve been waiting forever for you. Why are you only just getting here?” The entire venue instantly fell silent. Phillips looked around, his gaze finally settling on Susan and Bowman. “Who just said they wanted to throw out my best friend?”

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The prestigious kindergarten called to congratulate me—my son had passed the interview. They asked when I’d be paying the fees. My mind went completely blank. Three years of marriage, and I only had a daughter. Where did this son come from? I called my wife, a diplomat, but she just laughed it off, saying it must be a scam. After hanging up, I did something unprecedented—I requested leave from my military unit and called my father, the general. “Dad, Alice is cheating on me. Get me the best lawyer you can find. I want her to leave with nothing!” “Head to the diplomatic office building on the west side. Step on it—I’m going to catch them in the act.” The driver’s eyes lit up when he heard that. He cranked the wheel hard, and the high-performance military SUV shot forward like an arrow. “Hold on tight!” What should have been over an hour’s drive was compressed to twenty minutes. The vehicle stopped smoothly outside the heavily guarded diplomatic office building, and I walked straight toward the security post. “Hello, I’m here to see diplomat Alice.” The military officer on duty looked me up and down, his eyes full of scrutiny. “Do you have an appointment? Alice’s husband is home today and left instructions not to receive any visitors.” Alice’s husband’s husband? I let out a cold laugh and pulled out my ID. “I AM her husband. Marcus.” The officer glanced at it, looking even more confused—even wary. “Sir, please don’t joke around like that. We see Alice’s husband every day. He’s the famous pianist, Jonathan.” Jonathan? Just then, a man walked over and gave me a disdainful once-over. “These days everyone thinks they can latch onto the powerful, huh? Alice’s husband is a famous pianist. I just had afternoon tea with him.” “That outfit—are you here to apply for a driver position? Unfortunately, even the drivers here dress better than you.” I remembered him—the husband of another diplomat, famous in their circle for being a snob. My fists clenched tight. What a piece of work, Alice. What a piece of work, Jonathan! Jonathan was a poor student I’d sponsored from the mountains, put through university, who’d cried and promised he’d repay me. So this was how he repaid me. I couldn’t be bothered with this idiot. My gaze shifted past him to the figure hurrying out from inside. Jonathan wore an Armani suit, and on his wrist was the Rolex watch I’d given Alice for our third anniversary. When he saw me, the color drained from his face instantly, and he stumbled. “Mr. Marcus, how… how did you get back?” I crossed my arms, my eyes ice-cold. “What, do I need to report to you when I come to my own home?” Jonathan’s face went deathly pale. He glanced nervously at the people around us who were clearly listening in, then rushed forward trying to grab my arm. “Mr. Marcus, this isn’t the place to talk. Let’s go to a café, okay? Let me explain…” I jerked my arm away sharply. “Explain right here. Or is there something in this house I personally designed that you don’t want me to find out about?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it made Jonathan tremble all over. He leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper. “Mr. Marcus, it’s not what you think! Alice… Alice just saw how hard I was struggling out here alone and let me stay temporarily. We’re completely innocent, really!” Did he think I was a three-year-old? The fury in my chest burned like wildfire. I ground out through clenched teeth: “Innocent? Then why won’t you let me in? Open the door!” Jonathan hadn’t expected me to be so forceful. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead, but he refused to move. My patience ran out completely. My voice turned ice-cold. “I’m giving you three seconds. If you don’t open that door, I’ll blow it up!”

Jonathan was shaken by the killing intent in my words. He knew I wasn’t joking. With trembling hands, he finally entered the code on the door lock. “Beep.” The door opened. I didn’t spare him another glance and walked straight in. The moment I entered, I saw that my wedding photo with Alice had been taken down. In its place was a family portrait of Jonathan and Alice with a young boy. In the photo, he smiled with refined elegance, every inch the master of the house. The Italian handwoven rug I’d personally selected had been replaced with a tacky gold-patterned one. The art pieces I’d collected from around the world were all gone. The walls were covered with posters from Jonathan’s solo piano recitals. The air reeked of overpowering cologne that made me nauseous. Jonathan followed behind me, watching my face grow darker and darker, still making excuses. “Mr. Marcus, Alice only did this temporarily to help me entertain some friends from the music world. She said it would suit my status better…” His words became more and more jumbled, his voice quieter and quieter—only adding fuel to the fire. Just then, a four or five-year-old boy rushed down from upstairs. He threw his arms around Jonathan’s legs and held up a doll that had been torn to shreds, as if presenting a prize. “Daddy! Look! I ripped apart that ugly doll! She can’t play with it anymore!” My gaze froze instantly. That doll was a one-of-a-kind custom piece. It was a birthday gift my father—the decorated general—had sewn by hand for my daughter Lena. In an instant, all the pieces fell into place. Alice hadn’t just cheated. She’d conspired with this man to take over my home and abuse my daughter! I stared at the father and son, my voice colder than it had ever been. “Where is my daughter Lena?” Jonathan’s expression turned instantly terrified. But the boy remained oblivious, pointing at me arrogantly and shouting: “Who are you, you crazy person! Get out of my house! You mean that little mute? She wouldn’t behave, so Mom locked her up to think about what she did!” Before he could finish, Jonathan frantically covered his mouth. My brain went “boom”—completely blank. Then came towering rage and terror. I searched frantically, every room, every corner. I left nothing unchecked. But there was no sign of Lena anywhere. Jonathan followed behind me, trying desperately to stop me. His noise was driving me crazy. I shoved him to the ground. I’d searched the entire villa. Only the tightly shut basement door remained. A terrible thought exploded in my mind. I understood instantly and raised my foot to kick the door down. Just then, Jonathan found strength from somewhere and threw himself forward, blocking the door with his body. “You can’t go in!” Burning with rage, I raised my foot to kick him, roaring: “Move! Or I’ll cripple you too!” “Stop it!” A voice I knew all too well came from behind me. Alice. Before I could react, she charged forward and kicked me in the stomach with her high heel. The sharp pain sent me crashing to the floor. She didn’t even glance at me, instead helping Jonathan up tenderly into her arms. “Jonathan, are you okay? I got a call saying some madman broke into our house. Did he hurt you?”

Jonathan leaned against her, saying nothing, just looking utterly wronged. Alice looked at him, her heart breaking with concern, and softened her voice to comfort him. “Don’t be scared, I’m here now. Anyone who dares break into my house and hurt my husband must have a death wish…” As she spoke, she glared viciously at me. But her harsh words got stuck halfway through. A crowd of diplomatic residence family members had gathered at the door, pointing and whispering about me. “Alice, this man forced his way in and claimed to be your husband!” “Yeah, acting completely crazy, even pushed Mr. Jonathan down. Terrifying!” Panic flashed through Alice’s eyes. She instinctively avoided my gaze. I braced myself against the floor and stood up, staring hard at her. “Alice, where is my daughter?” Cold sweat slid down her temple. Jonathan keenly picked up on her emotion and immediately cried out. “Alice, my hand hurts so much! This lunatic burst in and attacked me, tried to kick me. Look at him—if you hadn’t come back in time, he might have actually killed me…” As he spoke, he secretly pinched his own arm, then pulled up his sleeve to reveal red marks. His son immediately played along, crying loudly. “Mommy, I’m so scared! This crazy man wanted to kill Daddy! I don’t want to be a child without a father!” Alice had been hesitating. But seeing her beloved man and son in tears, she made up her mind instantly and turned on me viciously. “Marcus! Apologize to Jonathan right now! I know you’re bitter, but you can’t resort to violence!” I almost laughed at her words. How could a person be this shameless? “Are you blind? Or did a dog eat your conscience? You believe whatever he says?” “Alice, have you forgotten? We’re not divorced yet. I’M your legal husband! Do I need to pull out our marriage certificate and show everyone!” The moment I finished speaking, Alice’s face changed dramatically. She cut me off frantically. “What nonsense are you spouting! My husband has always been Jonathan, and only Jonathan! Marcus, I know you’ve had it hard living alone. I’ve shown you plenty of kindness, but you can’t develop inappropriate fantasies about me because of that, or even show up at my house to cause trouble! I’ve seen plenty of men like you who’ll do anything to climb the social ladder! Get out of here right now!” Climb the social ladder? I could barely believe my ears. Was she talking about me? If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t even be sitting in that diplomatic position! I still remember the first time she was assigned overseas. She grabbed me excitedly at the airport, spinning in circles, whispering in my ear over and over: “Marcus, you’re my lucky charm! Marrying you is the greatest blessing of my life! I, Alice, swear to heaven I’ll never betray you!” Her vows from back then still echoed in my ears, but the face before me had become completely unrecognizable. Rage surged through me. I lost control and lunged at her, ready to tear apart that hypocritical face. But she had some strength after all, and I’d just endured a long journey. Caught off guard, she actually pushed me to the ground. My head slammed hard against the marble floor. Everything spun. “Bang! Bang! Bang!” Suddenly, someone started pounding on the basement door. A weak cry came from inside. “Daddy… is that you? I’m so hungry…” My heart sank sharply. It was Lena! My Lena! The surrounding neighbors erupted in discussion. “What’s going on? Why is someone locked in the basement?” “That sounds like a little girl… Doesn’t Alice’s family only have a son?” “Now that I think about it, I remember seeing Alice with a little girl before. She was really pretty, but I haven’t seen her in ages.”

Alice and Jonathan’s faces turned deathly pale in an instant. Under the questioning and scrutinizing gazes of everyone around them, they had no choice but to steel themselves and open the basement door. The door had barely cracked open when an impossibly thin figure stumbled out and threw herself into my arms. “Daddy! You finally came back! They all said… said Daddy didn’t want Lena anymore…” I held my daughter tight, tears streaming down uncontrollably. My Lena—how had she become this thin in just a few short months? She wore dirty, ragged old clothes. Her bare arms were covered in bruises, blue and purple. The neighbors stood stunned, exchanging looks. “Oh my God! Isn’t this Alice’s daughter? Why is she calling this man Daddy?” “And she was locked in the basement, so thin… This is abuse! Horrifying!” The three of them stood frozen, at a loss. Jonathan was the first to react. He rushed over, trying to pull Lena from my arms. “Lena, sweetie, don’t call people Daddy randomly. Are you confused? Come to Daddy.” Lena struggled desperately. “You’re not my daddy! You’re a bad man! You stole my mommy and locked me up! Your son tore up the doll Grandpa gave me!” Seeing Lena cling stubbornly to me and completely ignore him, Jonathan’s face cycled between red and white with anger and anxiety. But he still had to maintain his gentle, kind image in front of everyone. Watching the situation spiral out of control, Alice steeled her heart. “Enough! Everyone stop!” She took a deep breath, her face showing tragic, helpless pain. “Everyone, family scandals shouldn’t be aired publicly, but now I have no choice but to speak. This child is actually the orphan left behind by my distant cousin who died in combat. She witnessed her mother being abused as a child and suffered severe psychological trauma. She has serious delusions and violent tendencies. When she has episodes, she randomly calls people family and self-harms or attacks others!” “My husband Jonathan is kindhearted. He couldn’t bear to see her sent to an orphanage, so he brought her home to care for her. We had no choice—we only isolate her temporarily in the basement when she has episodes, to prevent her from hurting herself and others!” She spoke with such sincerity, with tears in her eyes. The surrounding neighbors immediately showed understanding and sympathy. “Oh, I see! I was wondering—Alice and Mr. Jonathan are such good people, how could they possibly abuse a child!” “Exactly! And this lunatic came to cause trouble. What ingratitude!” “Alice, call the police quickly! Send these two where they belong. It’s too dangerous to keep them here!” Jonathan seized the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. He pulled Alice into his arms, looking worried as he said: “That’s right, Alice, contact the psychiatric hospital quickly! Send this lunatic to intensive care so he can’t escape and hurt people again!” His son jumped out too, pointing at Lena in my arms and shrieking: “And her! Throw her back to the orphanage! I never want to see her again!” A flash of viciousness crossed Alice’s eyes. She immediately nodded in agreement. My teeth nearly shattered from grinding them so hard. I’d thought she’d only cheated and changed her heart. I never imagined she could be this vicious. She wanted to completely destroy both me and my daughter! Lena was so frightened she sobbed hysterically. She broke free from my arms and threw herself at Alice’s legs. “Mommy, what are you saying? I’m Lena! I’m your daughter! Please, don’t send me and Daddy away!” But the woman who once rushed to the hospital over the smallest scratch on her daughter now kicked Lena away with disgust. “Don’t touch me! Letting you freeload in my house this long was already more than generous!” She then picked up her radio and gave a cold order to the residence security captain: “Come to my house immediately! There’s a mental patient and a little girl here. Send them to the psychiatric hospital!” Within moments, several fully armed security personnel burst in and surrounded us. “Really shameless, taking advantage of Alice’s kindness and then biting the hand that feeds!” “Exactly, they deserve to be sent to a mental hospital!” Lena was terrified by this scene and burst into tears, kneeling on the ground begging Alice. I gritted my teeth and held my daughter protectively, looking coldly at these ugly faces. The lead security captain was about to step forward when he suddenly froze. He stared hard at my face, his eyes full of shock and disbelief. I met his hesitant gaze and looked at the other security personnel. “What are you all standing around for? Arrest this diplomat scum who abused her power, cheated during marriage, abused her own child, and attempted illegal detention!”

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My genius boyfriend framed me for plagiarism, and the shock killed my grandmother. Five years later, mentally unstable, I delivered takeout to his charity gala livestream. He threw a stack of cash at me in front of everyone. “Take it and get lost. Don’t dirty my floor.” As I bent down to pick up the money, I plunged a knife into his stomach. The police pinned me to the ground. I smiled and pulled out my psychiatric evaluation. “He personally certified I’m insane. And if insane people kill, it’s not a crime, is it?” “Oh, and I have evidence that he plagiarized my painting.” Kara’s POV I was scrolling through my phone during a work break when I stumbled across a livestream. The trending headline was explosive. “Genius Artist Damien Hayes Donates Millions to Establish Scholarship Fund.” That cold, aristocratic face made me pause mid-scroll. On camera, Damien wore a pristine white designer suit, refined and elegant. Beside him, Professor Linda Lynn stood with obvious pride, speaking into the microphone. “Five years ago, I taught a very talented student. Unfortunately, she had a rotten heart-plagiarized and tried to take shortcuts.” “Thankfully, Damien was upright enough to report her.” “Today’s young people really should learn from Damien. Character matters more than talent.” The comment section overflowed with praise. They praised Damien as a man of true character. They praised Linda for spotting genius when it mattered. Some even dug up that old trending topic, the one about the plagiarizing woman. They asked if she’d died of shame yet. I closed my phone, expressionless. Actually, I was that woman who deserved to die. Later, Damien and I lost all contact. I was expelled from the Academy of Fine Arts, saddled with massive breach-of-contract penalties, and my grandmother, the only family I had, died from the shock. Only recently, by taking medication, could I barely function like a normal person. Whether Damien hates me, I don’t know. But my former pride and talent rotted in the mud long ago, along with that psychiatric diagnosis. “Kara! Is that rush order ready yet?” My boss’s booming voice interrupted my thoughts. “The one for 9 Harbor Road. It’s a charity gala for some big-shot artist. If you’re late, I’m docking half your month’s pay!” I froze for a moment, then looked down at the address on the order. 9 Harbor Road. Exactly where Damien was livestreaming. I said nothing. I wiped my still-bleeding finger on my apron. Then I fished two pills from my bag and dry-swallowed them. The bitter taste exploded in my throat. I picked up the flower basket and pushed through the door into the rain. What a coincidence. I wanted to see for myself how my old acquaintance-who climbed to success by stepping on me-was doing now. The back entrance at 9 Harbor Road was closed. The security guard, disgusted by my rain-soaked appearance, told me to go around to the side hall. The moment I stepped into the main hall, I ran straight into Damien and Linda, surrounded by a crowd. Damien held a champagne flute, chatting with several collectors. Five years apart. He’d definitely changed. The gloomy, struggling kid who once couldn’t afford paint was gone. Now, every inch of him screamed fame and fortune. I pulled my cap lower, wanting only to drop off the basket and leave quickly. But Linda had sharp eyes. Her mocking laugh stabbed through the air like a needle. “Oh my, if it isn’t Kara!” “Everyone, look! This is the cautionary tale I just mentioned.” “She was so arrogant back then, aiming for the gold prize. Now she’s delivering flowers? Proof that trash will always be trash.” The room fell silent instantly. A dozen gazes hit me like spotlights. I stood there soaked through, clutching a mud-stained basket, on the gilded carpet-like a clown who’d wandered in by mistake. Damien finally turned to look at me. His gaze was indifferent, like looking at a stray dog drenched in the rain. Only condescending charity. “Don’t bother with people like her. Today’s supposed to be a happy occasion.” Damien spoke coolly, maintaining his dignity. He walked over to me and pulled a stack of bills from his suit pocket. Judging by the thickness, probably a few thousand dollars. He tossed it casually. “Take the money and leave.” “My foundation only supports students with clean records. You don’t qualify.” “This money is from me personally. Don’t show up at places like this and embarrass yourself anymore.” I stared at that pile of money, my nails digging into my palms. Five years ago, to help me cover the plagiarism penalty, my grandmother knelt in the rain begging relatives for loans. She couldn’t borrow even this much. In the end, she worked herself to death picking up scrap metal at construction sites. Now, to him, this money was just spare change to dismiss a beggar. I didn’t move. Linda kept talking beside him. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and thank Mr. Hayes! Only Damien is kind-hearted enough-anyone else would’ve had security throw you out long ago.” “Then again, you had the nerve to steal Damien’s painting back then. Taking this bit of money is nothing.” I took a deep breath, forcing down the bloody taste rising in my throat. If this had been six months ago, before the medication, I would’ve already smashed the flower basket in his face. But not now. Going crazy was useless. I needed to make them taste what it felt like to fall from the clouds into the mud. I bent down and bowed, my voice as calm as stagnant water. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Hayes.” Damien seemed satisfied with my submission and turned away without another glance. I picked up the basket mixed with cash and turned to leave. The instant I turned, I touched the voice recorder in my pocket.

Kara’s POV The moment I left the banquet hall, my boss’s call came through. “The client complained there are mud spots on the flowers! Kara, do you even know how to do your job?” “Get back there and fix it right now, or I’m docking your attendance bonus!” I had no choice but to turn back. This time I didn’t dare use the main entrance. I hid in a corner of the prep kitchen. From there, I had a direct view of the banquet hall’s elaborate dessert table. Damien must have been tired from networking. He walked to the dessert table, rubbing his temples. He had severe hypoglycemia. Back when he painted for long hours, his hands would shake. He casually picked up a piece of matcha cake, took a bite, and immediately frowned, spitting it into a napkin. “What is this? Too sweet.” The nearby server trembled in fear. “Mr. Hayes, this was specially prepared for you by a three-star Michelin chef…” Linda walked over, smiling as she handed him a cup of pour-over coffee. “Who spoiled your palate this badly? So picky.” Damien took a sip of the coffee, frowned even harder, and set the cup aside. “Too sour. Not that taste.” I hid in the shadows, staring hard at the cake he’d rejected. Five years ago, on another rainy day just like this. It was the night before his entry into the National Youth Art Exhibition. To help him stay in top shape, I spent money from my part-time jobs on the best matcha powder and low-sugar substitutes. I stayed up all night baking him this cake. Afraid it might upset his stomach, I also hand-brewed a pot of his favorite Mandheling coffee. I rushed to the studio with the insulated container, thrilled to offer it to him. “Damien, eat something before you keep painting.” I didn’t expect Linda to be there too. She glanced at my lunch box and covered her nose in disgust. “Kara, you waste all your time doing housemaid work. No wonder your painting skills haven’t improved at all.” “This street vendor stuff isn’t sanitary. What if Damien gets food poisoning and can’t compete tomorrow? Will you take responsibility?” I hurriedly explained. “I made it myself. It’s very clean…” “Enough.” Damien cut me off, impatience thick in his voice. He didn’t even glance at the cake. Right in front of me, he threw the whole container-lid and all-into the trash bin in the corner. Thud. That was the couple’s insulated container we’d saved up for a whole month to buy. “She’s right.” “Kara, can you stop bothering me with this cheap self-satisfaction?” “What I need right now is inspiration, not your junk food.” That night, I picked up the cracked container and walked alone in the rain for a long time. Turns out the devotion I poured my heart into was nothing but cheap garbage in his eyes. My thoughts snapped back to reality. Linda’s voice rang out again, tinged with probing. “Damien, that Kara woman just now… she didn’t cause you any trouble, did she?” “I told you back then we should’ve sent her to prison. Would’ve saved us from dealing with her buzzing around like a fly.” Damien wiped his hands, his tone as cold as if discussing a stranger. “Just a washed-up nobody. She can’t stir up any waves.” “Focus on getting the copyright for the new Starlight Series project signed as soon as possible.” My hand gripping the cleaning rag trembled violently. The Starlight Series-that was his breakout work. It was also the name of my graduation project that I was accused of plagiarizing five years ago.

Kara’s POV Bold composition, colors both oppressive and full of hope. That painting won him the gold prize that year and launched him as a genius. But no one knew that the hands in the painting were modeled after mine. That ray of light-I once thought it was him. Five years ago in the studio, I excitedly showed Damien the initial draft. “Damien, I want to use this for my thesis project! Linda always says I’m too academic, but I’m confident about this piece.” Damien stared at the painting for a long time, his expression unreadable. “The composition’s okay. The colors are too tacky though.” He casually tossed the painting aside and continued mixing his paints. “Entering a competition with this level of work would just be embarrassing. Don’t waste your effort.” I listened obediently. If he said it wasn’t good, then I’d revise it. I buried that initial draft at the bottom of my portfolio and started conceptualizing something new. To avoid disturbing his creative process, I even moved to the old campus study room. A month later, Damien’s competition entry was announced. The whole school was in an uproar. The composition and lighting were identical to the draft he’d rejected. I rushed to the studio like a madwoman to confront him. Damien was in the middle of a media interview. When I interrupted, he showed no panic-only calm composure. “Kara, stop making a scene.” “We’re a couple. What’s wrong with you letting me use your inspiration?” “Besides, with your brushwork, you could never paint this kind of depth. In my hands, this is art. In yours, it would just be waste paper.” I trembled with rage, reaching out to grab the painting. Linda blocked Damien, slapping me across the face. “Kara! You’re incompetent, and now you want to destroy Damien too?” “Damien conceived this composition six months ago. I have the sketches to prove it. Meanwhile, you’ve been copying Damien’s style all along, trying to ride on his fame. And now you’re trying to turn the tables?” I covered my face, staring at Damien in disbelief. I thought he would explain. Feel guilty. But he only straightened the collar I’d rumpled, his eyes cold. “Kara, learn to be content.” “Don’t force me to go all the way.” I don’t know how I left the studio that day. I only know that from that day forward, I became the school’s public enemy. Everyone said I was jealous of my boyfriend’s talent-a plagiarizing freak desperate for fame. A commotion outside the prep kitchen interrupted my memories. “Mr. Hayes, are you really auctioning off the original of this painting?” The host’s excited voice carried over. “Of course.” Damien stood under the spotlight, his voice as gentle as reciting poetry. “This painting holds extraordinary meaning for me. It documents my most difficult period and represents my deepest contemplation of human nature.” “Auctioning it today is to help more children who, like I once was, are struggling in darkness.” Applause erupted below. “Now that’s a true artist!” I stood in the shadows, watching that radiant man on stage. Nausea churned violently in my stomach. Human nature? Contemplation? As if he deserved to speak those words. Slowly, I pulled out my phone and opened a long-unused cloud album. Inside was a photograph. Dated five years ago. In the photo, on a worn sheet of drawing paper, both our names were signed. Except mine had been viciously crossed out with black marker by him. Damien Hayes. Did you really think you were the only one who kept a draft?

Kara’s POV The graduation design exhibition five years ago was a trap Linda set for me. I thought if I just produced a more perfect new work, I could prove I wasn’t a waste who only knew how to imitate Damien. I locked myself away for an entire month without leaving. I wanted to paint something. Something with colors that belonged to me-vibrant and burning, completely different from Damien’s gloomy style. The day before submission, I locked the painting in the studio cabinet and only told Damien the code. Because that day was his birthday. I wanted to surprise him. I wanted to tell him: even without your guidance, I can create good work. But when I arrived at the studio the next day, the cabinet door stood wide open. My painting had been slashed to pieces, the canvas drenched in black paint. And beside that pile of wreckage lay a neat stack of printed comparison images. They were Professor Bennett’s unpublished sketches. Nearly identical to my painting. “Kara, what do you have to say for yourself?” Linda burst in with school administrators and sponsors, throwing the comparison images in my face. “I knew something was off when you suddenly improved! Turns out you plagiarized Professor Bennett’s discarded sketches!” “Do you even know who Bennett is? He’s our academy’s visiting professor! You’re bringing shame to the entire institution!” I knelt on the floor, trying to piece together the fragments, shaking my head through tears. “I didn’t… I painted this myself… I don’t even know who Bennett is…” “Still lying?” Linda sneered, turning to look at Damien standing at the back of the crowd. “Damien, you’re her boyfriend and the only person who knew about this studio. What’s really going on with this painting?” Every gaze focused on Damien. He was my last lifeline. If he would just say one sentence-say he’d watched me revise the sketches through countless all-nighters, say I’d had no chance to access outside materials during that time… Damien avoided my eyes. He lowered his gaze, his voice soft but devastating. “I’m sorry, Linda.” “A few days ago… I did see her browsing Professor Bennett’s encrypted website.” “I warned her not to take shortcuts, but she wouldn’t listen.” “She said as long as she won the gold prize, copying a little wouldn’t be noticed.” Boom. The last thread in my mind snapped. I lunged at him like a lunatic, grabbing his collar with a death grip. “Damien, what are you saying! You’re the only one who knew the code! You destroyed my painting, didn’t you?” “Why are you lying! Why are you framing me!” Damien let me tear at him, his face full of pain and disappointment. “Kara, even now you won’t admit your mistake?” “When you do something wrong, you need to own it. Don’t make me lose all respect for you.” Security rushed up and pinned me to the ground. Linda immediately announced my expulsion and had me blacklisted across the industry. The sponsors demanded three hundred thousand dollars in damages, claiming my actions had ruined their reputation. The rain was heavy that day. I was thrown out of the school gates like garbage. Damien held a black umbrella, sheltering Linda as they got into a luxury car. He never looked back once. In the back prep kitchen, I bit down hard on my hand, trying not to cry out loud. Some scars, no matter how much time passes, still bleed fresh when torn open. “Why hasn’t that flower delivery person left yet?” Linda’s voice suddenly sounded behind me. I froze. Before I could hide, she’d cornered me. She looked at my reddened eyes, a playful smile crossing her face. “Well, well. Hiding here crying?” “Seeing Damien’s success now, are you regretting not holding onto him tight enough back then?” “What a shame. Some things, once they’re dirty, can never be washed clean.”

Kara’s POV The expensive perfume Linda wore made me nauseous. She pressed closer step by step, her heels clicking crisply on the tile. “Kara, do you know why Damien wouldn’t let you through the main entrance?” “Because he thinks you’re bad luck.” “If he hadn’t needed to cut you loose back then, he wouldn’t have had to be so ruthless.” My head snapped up. “Admitting it?” My voice came out hoarse. “The plagiarism accusation back then-you two set me up.” Linda laughed, shoulders shaking with mirth. She leaned close to my ear, using a volume only we could hear. “So what if we did?” “Someone like Damien-a genius-was destined to stand at the pinnacle. And you? All you did was drag him down with your handmade cakes and cheap paints.” “What he needed was fame, resources, a professor like me who could give him a real boost.” “Sacrificing one piece of trash to create a genius? What a profitable trade.” She stepped back, her gaze sweeping contemptuously over my flower-mud-stained apron. “I heard your grandmother died pretty miserably?” “Went to a construction site in a storm to collect scrap metal. Trying to pay off your debt. In the end, she had a heart attack. Her face was so soaked by the rain it practically rotted…” The thread in my mind labeled “reason” snapped completely. That was my breaking point. No one could touch it. “Shut up!” I screamed, no longer caring about consequences, grabbing a nearby tray to hurl at her. Linda was prepared. She dodged. The tray crashed against the wall. The wine glasses on it shattered across the floor. The massive sound alerted security outside. “Murder! A crazy woman’s attacking someone!” Linda immediately switched to a victim’s expression, screaming as she ran outside. Several security guards rushed in and pinned me to the ground without question. Glass shards pierced my knees. The pain was excruciating. Damien came running at the sound. He saw the mess everywhere and Linda trembling behind him. His brow furrowed into deep lines. “Kara, what are you going crazy about now?” I lay on the ground, struggling to lift my head to look at him. “Damien, Linda just admitted it.” “The plagiarism accusation was you two framing me! You destroyed me for your career! You killed my grandmother!” Something flickered in Damien’s eyes. But he quickly recovered that lofty, cold indifference. “What are you babbling about?” “Linda kindly let you in to escape the rain. Not only are you ungrateful, you tried to assault her?” “Looks like you haven’t improved at all in five years. Still the same liar with no emotional control.” He waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a fly. “Call the police.” “Someone with violent tendencies like this doesn’t belong in society.” In that moment, watching his cold profile, I suddenly stopped hating. Because you don’t need to hate the dead. Five years ago, that stormy night. Before my grandmother took her last breath, I called Damien one hundred times. Every single call was rejected. Later I learned that he’d been at Linda’s villa that night, throwing a party to celebrate obtaining a full scholarship to study in France. My grandmother lay in the cold morgue for three days. He was drunk on champagne and wine for three days. I stopped struggling. I let the security guards press my face into the carpet stained with wine. Through my disheveled hair, I stared fixedly at Damien’s spotless leather shoes.

Kara’s POV The police hadn’t arrived yet. The livestream continued. Because of the earlier crash, guests and media from the front hall all crowded over. Countless cameras focused on this chaotic scene in the prep kitchen. “What’s going on? Why is that delivery person attacking someone?” “Seems like she has mental issues. Professor Lynn was just being nice talking to her, then she suddenly went crazy.” “Terrifying. How did someone like that get in here?” Linda still hid behind Damien, clutching her chest, tears flowing on command. “Dear media friends, I’m so sorry for frightening everyone.” “This girl… was actually a former student of mine. She’s harbored resentment over Damien’s success.” “I wanted to give her a chance to reform, but I never expected she would…” She trailed off strategically, performing the role of betrayed mentor flawlessly. I lay pinned to the ground, listening to the accusations around me. They cursed me for being ungrateful. Cursed me for being psychologically twisted. Some even recognized me, saying I was the plagiarist from years ago-deserved to stay at the bottom forever. Damien stood under the spotlight, straightening his jacket, offering the camera a helpless yet magnanimous bitter smile. “Everyone has the right to choose their own path.” “Kara chose degradation. That pains me too.” “But I hope everyone won’t judge her too harshly. After all… some people’s psychological resilience is rather fragile.” Those words sealed my fate as psychologically fragile and willingly degraded. The security guards probably thought I was too dirty, ruining the shot. They wanted to drag me out. “Wait.” I suddenly spoke. My voice wasn’t loud, but in the quiet scene it rang especially clear. I struggled to lift my head, looking toward the dessert table in the distance. There sat the painting Damien had just planned to auction. The struggling hands on the canvas looked especially desperate under the spotlights. “Damien.” I stared at that painting, my lips curling into a strange smile. “You just said this painting represents your deepest contemplation of human nature?” “Then do you dare tell everyone what exactly is mixed into the red paint in this painting?” Damien’s expression changed slightly. “What do you mean?” “Five years ago, to buy you that discontinued tube of Venetian red, I went to black market medical trials.” “The drug made blood vessels brittle. The slightest touch would cause bleeding.” “When I brought you the paint that day, blood from my hand dripped into the tube.” “You thought it was disgusting. Called me bad luck. Wanted to throw it away.” “Then you discovered that the blood-mixed red had a special muted luster. To achieve a suffocating effect, you forced me to keep adding blood to it.” The entire venue fell deathly silent. Everyone stared in horror at that painting. At that shocking red. Damien’s expression stiffened momentarily, but he quickly composed himself. “Kara, is this lunatic rambling supposed to mean something?” “Making up disgusting stories for attention only makes you look more pathetic.” “Making it up?” My smile widened. “The lower right corner of that painting-the part you covered with thick paint.” “If you dare scrape away that layer of paint.” “Underneath, doesn’t it say ‘Never Betray’?” That was our only vow back then. Damien’s pupils contracted sharply. He instinctively shifted, blocking the lower right corner of the painting. That subtle movement was captured by countless cameras. Linda saw things spiraling and screamed at security. “Cover her mouth! She’s talking nonsense! She’s trying to ruin today’s charity auction!” “How can you believe a mental patient’s words? Take her away now!” Security tightened their grip. My face was twisted against the floor. I couldn’t speak. But I saw it. Saw the flash of panic in Damien’s eyes. I smiled. Damien, you don’t know, do you? I have other ways to destroy you.

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Damian Blackwood, the notorious mafia lord, threw himself over me, using his body to shield me from the explosion. He lay in the rubble, drenched in blood, yet he smiled. “Kira, don’t cry. Trading twelve broken ribs so you’ll remember me for the rest of your life? That’s a bargain.” After returning home, I developed severe PTSD, waking from nightmares every night. He left the underworld behind, washed away the bloodstains, and became the gentlest version of himself. After our wedding, he tattooed my name over the scar on his chest, promising to love me forever. Until that night, when I woke from another nightmare to find him missing from our bedroom. Through the study door, I saw him slip his hands beneath a girl’s skirt, his voice hoarse as he coaxed her. “Baby, relax.” The man I’d worshipped like a god was having sex with someone else when I needed him most. I raised my gun with a smile, aiming it at my own heart. “Damian Blackwood. Divorce or widowhood. Pick one.” The sounds inside the room stopped abruptly. Damian’s movements froze. He turned slowly. The desire in his eyes hadn’t faded yet, but when he saw the gun pressed against my chest, his gaze instantly turned to ice. The girl emerged from his embrace, her face pure and innocent, eyes timid like a frightened deer. Damian casually positioned himself to shield her, smoothing down her skirt. He stood and walked toward me step by step, his voice gentle as always. “Kira, stop this. Put the gun down.” I laughed. Stop this? My finger moved to the trigger. “I’m giving you three seconds.” His brow furrowed, cracks finally appearing in that gentle facade. “Kira, you know I don’t like having guns pointed at me.” “And you know I like it even less when someone points a gun at you.” The girl called Violet suddenly burst into tears, rushing out from behind him to kneel before me. “Kira, don’t blame Damian. This is all my fault. I seduced him. Kill me if you want, but don’t hurt him.” She cried beautifully, pitifully. Damian’s expression darkened completely. He lunged forward, his wrist twisting with practiced precision to disarm me. We’d drilled this move countless times on the edge of life and death. Only this time, I was his target. The gun fell silently onto the carpet. He gripped my wrist, his fingers pressing hard enough to crush bone. “She’s just an innocent girl, not like us. Don’t scare her.” I looked at him. The tenderness and reproach in his eyes weren’t for me. I raised my other hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Damian Blackwood, I’ll make this easy for you.” I turned to leave. He pulled me into his arms from behind, his burning chest pressed against my back, panic in his voice. “Kira, don’t go. I’ll make her disappear. You’ll never see her again.” I didn’t turn around. My voice was calm. “Don’t bother.” The moment I finished speaking, I jerked my elbow back, slamming it into the old wound on his chest with all my strength. He grunted and released me. I didn’t pause for a second. I walked straight to the study and retrieved the divorce papers I’d prepared long ago. I’d drafted them after my first episode following our marriage. But he’d said then that divorce would only happen over his dead body. I never imagined these papers would come in handy at such an absurd moment. By the time I returned to the living room, Violet was gone. Damian sat on the sofa, half his face hidden in shadow, an unlit cigarette between his fingers. When he saw me, he looked up. Those eyes that had once shielded me from the world’s storms were now filled with exhaustion. “I won’t sign. Kira, there’s no divorce between us.” I threw the papers in his face. “Then widowhood it is.”

Damian placed me under house arrest. He confiscated all my communication devices and weapons. The villa’s security system was upgraded to maximum level. The bodyguards who’d once sworn to protect me with their lives now became my jailers. Damian came home every day, acting as if nothing had happened, preparing my meals and coaxing me to take my medication. He sat by the bed, using those hands that had once dealt death, clumsily peeling an apple for me. “Kira, the doctor says you need rest. When you’re better, I’ll take you to see the ocean.” The ocean again. He’d once promised that when we finally escaped that blood-soaked world, he’d take me to see the cleanest ocean in the world. Now he was clean, with someone new by his side. I knocked the apple from his hand. “Damian Blackwood, stop making me sick.” He didn’t get angry. He simply crouched down to pick up the pieces, one by one. “If you don’t want apples, how about some soup? I simmered it for hours.” I watched his humble posture and suddenly found it laughable. The feared crime lord was now kneeling before me, just to get me to drink some soup. How pathetic. “Get out.” His body stiffened. Eventually, he left in silence, carrying the bowl of soup. The door locked from the outside. I lay in bed, listening to the familiar gunfire from my nightmares, sleepless all night. The next day, an unfamiliar maid brought lunch. Under the plate was a photograph. Of Violet. She wore a white dress, standing in sunlight, smiling innocently. Around her neck was a necklace, the one Damian had bought me with his first legitimate paycheck for my eighteenth birthday. I’d lost it during a mission. I’d searched for so long. So it had been with him all along. The back of the photo bore a line of delicate handwriting: “Kira, Damian says only someone as pure as me deserves this necklace. He says you’re too dirty. The smell of you makes him sick.” My hands trembled uncontrollably. Dirty. Yes, how could I not be dirty? To pull him from a pile of corpses, I’d stayed awake for three days and nights, personally stitching seventeen wounds on his body. To avenge him, I’d stormed the enemy’s stronghold alone and killed thirty-seven people. When I returned to him covered in blood, he’d held me and kissed every scar on my body. He’d said, “My Kira is the purest girl in this world.” Now he found me dirty. I gripped the photo and laughed. That evening, when Damian came home, I was waiting for him in the living room. The table was set with an elegant candlelit dinner-wine, steak, and his favorite black swan cake. He froze, then joy flickered in his eyes. “Kira, you…” I raised my glass to him, smiling. “Damian , congratulations.” “Congratulations for what?” “For finally finding the girl of your dreams.” The smile froze on his face. I stood and walked over, slapping the photograph against his chest. “But there’s something I need to remind you about.” I leaned close to his ear, speaking in a voice only we could hear. “I have a problem. Things I’ve used, even if I don’t want them anymore, even if I throw them away, I can’t stand anyone else touching them. Anyone who touches them loses their hands.”

Damian’s breathing became ragged. He stared at me intently. “What did you do to her?” “Nothing much.” I stepped back, savoring his mixture of shock and fury. “Just had someone deliver a little gift. I wonder if she liked it.” He grabbed my wrist violently, his voice low and rough. “Kira! I’m warning you-if you lay one finger on her, you’ll regret it!” “Oh? Regret it?” I lifted my foot and kicked hard at his shin. He winced but refused to let go. “You know how important she is to me!” Important? I looked into his bloodshot eyes, my smile growing brighter. “How important? More important than your life?” Five years ago, in the border rainforest, three hundred men had surrounded us. To protect me, he’d drawn the enemy away alone. He’d taken three bullets-one just a centimeter from his heart. When I found him, he’d stopped breathing. I’d knelt in the mud, crying as I performed CPR, begging him not to leave me. When he woke, his first words were: “Kira, don’t be afraid. I won’t die. My life is yours. Death can’t take me without your permission.” Now he was looking at me this way for another woman. My heart ached so badly I could barely breathe. “Damian Blackwood, have you forgotten? Your life belongs to me.” His body shook. The madness in his eyes faded somewhat, replaced by endless pain. “Kira, don’t push me.” “Push you to what? To kill me and pay for your lover’s life?” I shook off his hand and pulled a steak knife from behind me, pressing it against his heart. “Or should I kill you first?” The blade pierced his shirt, drawing tiny beads of blood. He looked down at the knife at his chest and suddenly laughed. That laugh was desolate and desperate. “Go ahead. Kill me.” He gripped my hand and pushed the blade deeper. “If I die by your hand, I accept it.” Blood instantly stained his white shirt red. I watched that glaring crimson, then twisted my wrist and drove the knife into the wall behind him, missing his ear by millimeters. “Want to die?” “Damian Blackwood, you haven’t finished repaying what you owe me. How could I let you die so easily?” “Watch carefully. Watch how your lover becomes even dirtier than me.” I pulled out the micro-remote I’d hidden in the cake and pressed the button. The villa’s massive screen flickered to life, showing Violet’s face. She was bound to a chair, gagged, her face wet with terrified tears. Before her stood a man in a black suit, holding a scalpel. The man grinned at the camera, showing teeth white as bone. “Mr. Blackwood, let the game begin.”

Damian’s pupils contracted sharply. He charged toward the screen but was stopped by the electric net I’d set up in advance. Current surged through his body. He let out a pained grunt and collapsed heavily to the floor. “Kira!” He struggled to lift his head, eyes bloodshot. “Let her go! Come after me!” I walked over and crouched down, looking down at him. “Come after you?” I placed my foot on the leg that had once carried him through hell for me, slowly grinding down. “Do you deserve that?” On screen, the man in black ran his scalpel slowly across Violet’s pretty face. No blood yet. But more cruel than bloodshed. With the blade’s tip, he peeled away the tissue of her face, layer by layer. Violet convulsed in agony, blood streaming down her face, her eyes full of pleading. Damian’s eyes nearly split with rage. “Stop! I said stop!” He threw himself against the electric net repeatedly, even as the current charred his body, refusing to quit. “Kira, I’m begging you. Let her go. She’s carrying… my child.” My movements stopped. My foot on his leg froze. Child. He said child. Three years ago, I’d also carried a child. Our child. Seven months along, already kicking my belly. Damian used to press his ear to my stomach every day, listening to the movements inside, grinning like a fool. He’d said that once the baby was born, he’d leave everything behind. Our family of three would go somewhere no one knew us and live the most ordinary life. But later, to save him, I’d rushed into gunfire with my swollen belly. The child was lost. A boy. When he was induced, his body was still warm. From that day on, I could never conceive again. The doctor said my body was too damaged. I’d never be a mother in this lifetime. I’d buried this secret deep in my heart, never telling him. I was afraid he’d grieve, blame himself. But now, he had a child with another woman. I looked at him, at his pleading eyes, and suddenly laughed. Laughed until tears streamed down my face. “A child? Damian, do you remember? We once had a child too.” The color drained from his face. His lips trembled, unable to form words. On screen, Violet seemed to hear our conversation. She gathered all her strength, spat out the gag, and screamed hoarsely. “Damian! Save me! Save our child! Kill this crazy bitch! She’s just jealous! Jealous that I’m carrying your child while she can’t have any!” Her words stabbed into my heart. I slowly stood and walked to the screen. Looking at Violet’s blood-streaked face, I gave her a gentle smile. “You’re right. I am jealous.” I picked up the remote and pressed another button. The man in black put away the scalpel and produced a syringe filled with clear liquid. “This is my latest formula. No side effects.” “It just makes people expel all the dirty things from their bellies. Nice and clean.” Damian’s eyes went wide, filled with bloodshot veins. “No! Kira! Don’t!” He lunged at the electric net like a madman, letting the deadly current tear through him. “I was wrong! Kira! I was really wrong!” “I’ll do anything you want! Please! Don’t touch the child! That’s my flesh and blood!” I watched him writhe in pain, and the last trace of warmth in my heart died. I picked up the walkie-talkie, my voice cold and emotionless. “Do it.”

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To save Marcus, I lost both my legs and became bedridden, paralyzed. But then I overheard his conversation with his best friends: “She’s been crippled for four years, and I’ve taken care of her for four years. Four years later, I’d say that debt is paid, wouldn’t you?” “Just thinking about her legs turned into rotting flesh makes me sick. Why wasn’t it me who ended up paralyzed instead?” I trembled and hid to the side, when the system reminded me: “The four-year contract has expired. Does the host wish to renew?” “System, help me get those legs back.” “Understood. Canceling your contract now.” Today was my birthday. I sat alone, holding a cake, waiting for a long time. My husband said he’d be here soon, but there was still no sign of him. With no other choice, I struggled to wheel myself downstairs. Just as I was about to call him, I spotted his figure. I wanted to call out his name happily, but I noticed he was talking with some people. Probably work. No wonder he hadn’t come upstairs yet. I slowly moved closer and gradually made out what they were saying. It wasn’t about work. It was about… me. “Marcus, Claire can’t wait much longer.” Who was Claire? “I won’t make her wait long.” Standing across from Marcus were his two best friends, Liam and Ryan. Liam suddenly got excited. “Marcus, you’ve finally come to your senses?” Seeing Marcus nod, Liam smiled even more broadly. “Marcus, I thought you couldn’t bear to leave Sarah. All these years, you’ve climbed the ladder of success while Sarah’s still a cripple. She’s fallen miles and miles behind you.” Hearing this, I didn’t feel particularly upset. I knew his friends had always harbored disgust toward me. But these words alone weren’t enough to shake the bond between Marcus and me. Soon enough, though, I was proven wrong. “Four years. She’s been crippled for four years, and I’ve taken care of her for four years. Four years later, I’d say that debt is paid, wouldn’t you?” After speaking, Marcus let out a relieved sigh. A thunderclap exploded in my mind. I looked up, unable to believe what I was seeing. “I’m glad you’ve figured it out, Marcus. I thought… you were really going to take care of her for the rest of your life. If I were you, she would’ve driven me crazy long ago.” “You have no idea—a disabled person is just disgusting and filthy. Her wheelchair gets scrubbed every day, but it still smells. I’ve been fed up with her for ages.” Even Ryan, who rarely smiled, let out a laugh. “Marcus, these past few years must’ve been rough on you. Just thinking about you two sharing a bed makes me want to puke.” The curve of Marcus’s lips was painfully glaring. “Don’t even mention it. I wish I’d been the one who got paralyzed back then. I really don’t understand why she insisted on saving me. Maybe if she hadn’t thrown herself at me, we’d both have been fine. She probably just wanted to trap me with guilt.” Actually, Marcus wasn’t entirely wrong, but he wasn’t entirely right either. Four years ago, Marcus had been looking down at his phone while crossing the street when an out-of-control truck came barreling toward him. In that split second, I screamed his name and threw myself at him. But it was too late. Marcus’s whole body was drenched in blood, his legs crushed into a pulp. He was such a proud person. I couldn’t imagine what extreme actions he might take when he woke up and saw himself like that. His business had just started turning around. He needed those legs.

I vaguely remember what I said so decisively four years ago. “System, give my legs to Marcus.” “Host, once exchanged, this cannot be reversed!” “He just gained a foothold in business. Without his legs now, he’ll lose his mind…” All along, Marcus believed my legs had been crushed by the truck. In truth, I had voluntarily given them to him. I instinctively ducked behind a building. Marcus’s voice came again. “Four years. Four whole years. Every single day has been torture for me. Now just seeing her face makes me physically ill.” “Marcus, why don’t we take you out to have some fun? Relax a little?” Marcus immediately refused. “Forget it. Today’s Sarah’s birthday. After we get through this birthday, we can call it even, right?” I couldn’t hear what they said after that. All I could hear was a ringing in my ears. I don’t even remember how I got home. When Marcus ate dinner with me, he kept looking at his phone. He always said it was work, and I believed him. Only today did I realize how absurd that was. “Who’s this Claire person?” Marcus instantly looked up at me with an indescribable expression. Then his eyes filled with disgust. “What are you implying?” “I’m just asking. What, I can’t ask?” Marcus quickly adjusted his emotions and smiled at me warmly. “Honey, you’ve got it wrong. She’s just a business partner. Something’s come up right now, so I… need to go out for a bit.” “But it’s my birthday.” I tried to be patient, wanting to finish this last meal with him. But Marcus’s brow furrowed with endless irritation. “Didn’t you already blow out the candles? Be good, honey. I’ll keep you company when I get back.” He smiled and patted my head, then immediately pulled his hand back. He turned and left. I wheeled myself to the window and watched him frantically wiping his hand after he got outside. He kept dry heaving. I calmly asked, “System, can I get those legs back?” “Host, you don’t have enough points yet. A random task has been activated for you. Please proceed to Cloud Luxe Bar.” I didn’t waste any time and set off right away. But when I reached the bar entrance, I couldn’t find the courage to take that step. Not until the system prompted me did I finally wheel myself inside. The bouncer at the door looked at me strangely. I felt so embarrassed I just wanted to run away. As soon as I entered, the lively atmosphere inside didn’t make me feel too uncomfortable. I was about to move forward when someone bumped into my wheelchair. “Where’d this cripple come from? Does this bar let just anyone in? You almost hit me!” “What’s a cripple doing at a bar? Move it! You’re blocking the way!” I awkwardly apologized. Just as I was about to leave and find another spot, a pair of large hands gripped my wheelchair. It was Marcus. “What are you doing here?” His voice wasn’t questioning—it was interrogating. “It was too quiet at home, so I came out for a walk.” Liam walked up to me with a drink in hand, looking down at me arrogantly. “Sarah, not to be harsh, but even if you wanted to go for a walk, you shouldn’t come here. This isn’t a place for a cripple. Sarah, can’t you give us a break?” “Before the accident, I used to come here all the time. I just wanted to take a look.”

Liam continued pressing me. “You said it yourself—that was before, not now. You’re a useless waste now. Coming here just creates problems for other people. Look at how everyone’s staring at you.” Ryan frowned. “What’s that smell? Something stinks.” Liam kept sniffing, then leaned close to me and started fanning the air. “Why do you smell so bad? Even with all the alcohol smell in here, it can’t cover up your stench.” I thought I heard Marcus let out a quiet laugh. I looked up and our eyes met. “Marcus, you’re just going to watch them humiliate me like this?” Marcus coughed twice. “Which part of what they said was wrong? Stop embarrassing yourself. Go home. I’ll have the driver take you.” The system told me I still had to stay here for two more hours. I smiled and said resolutely, “I’m not going back, and I won’t bother you.” Liam carefully walked behind Marcus and whispered. “Marcus, Claire’s about to arrive.” Marcus suddenly frowned. “I’m asking you one last time. Are you going back or not?” “No.” Marcus suddenly smiled coldly. “You want to play? Then let’s play.” With that, he waved his hand with a cold laugh. His friends came over to my wheelchair and started doing something to it. The next second, they lifted me up. I gripped the wheelchair tightly, swallowing in fear, breaking out in a cold sweat. My clothes stuck to my back. The guys shook my wheelchair from below, hollering and yelling. Marcus sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, holding a drink and watching me make a fool of myself. I looked at the DJ booth, listening to the pounding music. Gradually, I didn’t feel so scared anymore. Watching the DJ wave at me, I smiled and raised both hands, cheering along with him. I faintly heard Liam’s voice. “Did she throw up yet? Shake harder!” Only Marcus, sitting in the booth, could see that at this moment, I was having the time of my life. I was grateful to them for giving me this brief moment of freedom. Marcus suddenly slammed his glass on the table, glaring at me with hatred. The next second, they threw me violently to the ground. The intense impact made me fall right off my wheelchair. Marcus looked at his friends with fake concern. “Why were you so careless? You made Sarah fall.” Then he looked at me with a fake smile. “Are you okay?” Marcus reached his hand toward me. I had no choice—I just wanted him to lift me back into my wheelchair. Just as I was about to take his hand, Marcus pulled it back. He covered his nose and stepped back two paces. Everyone else backed away from me too. Marcus suddenly burst out laughing. The music stopped at an inappropriate moment. “Sarah! You wet yourself again?! This is a public place!” Marcus’s voice echoed throughout the venue. Countless eyes felt like they were roasting me alive. Liam laughed loudly, his voice painfully grating. “Sarah, you really need to be more careful. It’s one thing at home, but this is in public with so many people around. Ugh!” Marcus also began to condemn me. “Sarah, I told you to leave, but you insisted on making things difficult for both of us. You’ve made me lose all my dignity!” I had no time for this. “Marcus, just help me up first.” Marcus finally spoke what was really on his mind. “Sarah, do you know how disgusting your lower body is? It’s like rotting flesh. When will you finally let me go?” I looked down with a bitter, helpless smile. “You’ve been acting for four years. Must have been exhausting.”

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On the first day I was brought back from the orphanage to my wealthy birth family, Lydia Hart, best friend of the fake heiress Vivian Laurent, raised her hand and splashed coffee all over my face, warning me in a low voice: “So what if you’re the chairman’s biological daughter? Vivian is the one everyone in our circle recognizes as the true lady of the house. If you know what’s good for you, crawl back to your slum. Otherwise…” I’m a poor kid who grew up in the slums, but I can hear people’s thoughts. I immediately grabbed the entire coffee pot and dumped it over her head, screaming as I rushed toward the terrace: “Help! Someone’s trying to murder the real heiress to steal the family fortune!” The guests erupted in shock. Lydia’s face went pale with terror as she tried to grab me. I let myself fall to the ground, clutching her leg desperately: “Please don’t kill me!” Security rushed over and rescued me. Lydia was eventually taken away for questioning on charges of assault and intimidation. That evening, Vivian found me, her teeth clenched in rage: “Just you wait. Believe it or not, I’ll make Dad marry you off to that security guard!” I looked at the security guard, my eyes lighting up. That would be perfect. I’d had my eye on that six-foot-two, eight-pack-abs ex-special forces bodyguard for a while now.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there.” A glass of red wine came pouring down on my head, the dark red liquid dripping from my bangs onto the haute couture dress I’d just changed into. Lydia covered her mouth, her eyes full of gleeful mockery, though her voice dripped with fake sweetness. The guests around us instantly fell silent, their gazes hitting me like spotlights. I wiped the wine from my face, staring at the woman in the pink dress before me. She sneered: [No matter how you dress up, you trash, you’re still ugly. Vivian said today we have to humiliate you, send you crawling back to your slum.] Lydia’s thoughts blared like a speaker turned up to full volume, making my head throb. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Too scared?” When I didn’t react, Lydia pushed further, leaning in closer. “Oh right, you’ve probably only seen occasions like this on TV before, haven’t you? It’s fine that you ruined your dress—I can lend you a maid’s uniform. You’d be more comfortable in that anyway.” Vivian stood on the edge of the crowd, champagne glass in hand, a barely noticeable sneer on her lips. [Make a scene. The bigger the better. Best if she throws a tantrum right here, so Mom and Dad can see that poverty she can never wash off.] I took a deep breath and smiled. “You’re right, I’m not used to it.” I walked toward the long buffet table nearby. Thinking I’d backed down, Lydia scoffed: “Smart move. Now hurry up and change…” “I’m not used to people shitting on my head.” I grabbed the largest platter of Australian lobster sashimi from the table, spun around, took aim, and slammed it right onto Lydia’s face. “Ahhh!” Her scream nearly blew the roof off the banquet hall. Ice chips, still-twitching lobster antennae, plus wasabi and soy sauce instantly gave Lydia an abstract Picasso-style makeup job. “Murder! The country girl is trying to kill me!” Lydia flailed wildly, lemon slices hanging from her carefully styled hair. I clapped my hands, grabbed a tablecloth to wipe the oil from my fingers, then opened my mouth and started shouting: “Someone come! Catch the poisoner! This woman just tried to drug my drink, and when I discovered it, she tried to destroy the evidence by dousing me! Someone’s trying to harm the real Caldwell heiress!” The room erupted in chaos. Several guests holding phones immediately pointed their cameras at the disheveled Lydia. “You’re lying! I didn’t!” Lydia lunged at me like a madwoman, trying to claw my face. A tall dark figure suddenly blocked my path. “Miss, please control yourself.” The man’s voice was cold and hard as iron. With one hand he caught Lydia’s wrist, gave a light push, and she fell to the ground like a broken rag doll. I looked up. Tall and powerfully built, the muscle lines beneath his black suit barely concealed. His face was cold as ice, yet so handsome I couldn’t look away. The Caldwell family’s head of security, Kade Jensen. [Did I use too much force? No, should be fine. This girl—quick reflexes. Not as stupid as the rumors say.] His thoughts were like that? I stared at his profile, delighted inside. That body, that face—way better than any rich playboy. If I could take him home as a husband, being recognized by this wealthy family wouldn’t be a loss at all. Vivian finally deigned to come over, looking anxious as she helped Lydia up, then turned to me with slightly reddened eyes: “Stella, how could you be so crude? Lydia just made a mistake, you…” “A mistake?” I cut her off. “She accidentally poured wine on my head, I accidentally slammed lobster on her face. We’re even. If you think it’s unfair, there’s a king crab platter over there—want to take a turn?” Vivian choked. [Damn it, why isn’t this bitch following the script at all?] “Enough, both of you stop.” My mother, Diana Reed, walked over with a dark expression, glaring at me. “Making trouble the moment you get back—aren’t you embarrassed enough? Go upstairs and change!” I shrugged and headed upstairs. As I passed Kade, I winked at him: “Thanks, handsome.” Kade kept his eyes straight ahead, but I clearly heard him mentally “tsk.” [Troublemaker.]

Early the next morning, just after I’d finished washing up, Vivian knocked on my door carrying an exquisite tray. “Stella, did you sleep well last night?” She smiled innocently. “Mom said since you just got back, your skin might not be used to the water here, so she specially had me bring you this custom skincare set.” I looked at the collection of bottles and jars. Before I could reach for them, her thoughts drilled into my ears. [I added high-concentration poison oak extract to this. The moment she uses it, her face will rot for half a month. At the socialite tea party in a few days, let’s see her show her face with that ruined skin.] Vicious. My face broke into a touched smile: “Really? You’re so sweet. I thought you’d be mad at me about last night.” “How could I be? We’re family.” Vivian placed the items on my vanity. “Make sure to use them morning and night, Stella. They work really well.” “Absolutely, absolutely.” The moment she left, I shut the door. Want to ruin my face? Not a chance. I slipped into Vivian’s room. She was downstairs having breakfast with my mother—her room was empty. The same skincare set sat on her vanity. I swiftly switched the set she’d given me with the one she was actually using. The packaging was identical—not even a god could tell the difference. By dinner that evening, Vivian’s face started looking wrong. First it turned red, then broke out in dense little bumps that made your scalp crawl just looking at them. “Oh my, Vivian, what happened to your face?” I shrieked in mock surprise, “dropping” my fork and knife. My mother panicked too: “What’s going on? You were fine this morning—how did you suddenly get such a severe allergic reaction?” Vivian covered her face, shocked and furious: “I don’t know… it itches so much…” [How is this possible? I clearly used my own set! Unless… no, impossible. How could that trash know?] “Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” I fanned the flames. “Oh wow, this looks like poisoning or something. So scary.” Vivian glared at me viciously, but the itching on her face prevented her from arguing. She screamed and ran back to her room. The next day, sporting a face swollen like a pig’s head, she refused to leave her room. Naturally, she couldn’t attend the socialite tea party. My mother looked at her condition, her brow furrowed so deep it could crush a fly: “Vivian, you were so careless. This tea party is very important—Mrs. Lee specifically asked to meet you.” Vivian sobbed: “Mom, I didn’t mean to…” I sat nearby munching an apple, crunching loudly. “Mom, since she can’t go, let me go instead.” My mother hesitated, looking at me: “You? Do you know anything about tea ceremony or flower arrangement?” “I can learn if I don’t know—nobody’s born knowing this stuff.” I tossed the apple core and dusted off my hands. “Besides, I’m the real Caldwell heiress. If I don’t go to occasions like this, who should?” Before my mother could respond, my father Marcus Caldwell walked in, Kade following behind him. “Let Stella go. Good opportunity for her to make an appearance.” My father made the final decision, then pointed at Kade. “From now on, Kade will stay with Stella and handle her security.” I was thrilled inside, though my face showed reluctant acceptance: “Fine, I guess he’ll do.” Kade nodded at me expressionlessly. [What’s Stella plotting now? Smiling like a cat that got the cream.]

“So you’re Miss Caldwell? I heard you grew up in an orphanage?” Tyler Shaw sat across from me, legs crossed, twirling his car keys, looking at me like I was a clearance item. “Yeah, so what?” I cut into the steak on my plate, the knife and fork making harsh scraping sounds. “Nothing much, just think Uncle Marcus has it rough.” He sneered. “Bringing you back, then having to find you a husband. But let me be clear up front—the Shaw family has high standards. Not just anyone can marry in.” Vivian sat beside him, gently coaxing: “Tyler, don’t say that. My sister may… may lack refinement, but she’s very down-to-earth.” [Hmph, keep up the act. Tyler hates vulgar women the most. Today I’ll make sure you show your true colors.] Tyler’s thoughts followed immediately: [What trash, reeks of thrift store bargains. If not for the Caldwell family’s sake, I wouldn’t bother meeting this country bumpkin. In a bit I’ll find some excuse to get rid of her. Vivian’s much easier on the eyes.] So it’s a pair of scumbags who’d already hooked up. Fine, you want to see me be vulgar? Let me open your eyes. I dropped my knife and fork, grabbed the half-rare steak with my bare hands, and took a huge bite, grease dripping from my mouth. “Mmm, this meat’s not bad. Just too raw—like chewing on raw pork.” Tyler’s face turned green as he shrank back: “What… what are you doing?” “Eating, what else?” I grabbed my wine glass and chugged the 1982 Lafite like beer, then let out an extremely loud burp. “BURP!” The sound echoed through the quiet upscale restaurant. Guests at nearby tables looked over in horror. Vivian covered her mouth, seemingly shocked but secretly delighted: “Stella, this… this is a public place…” “So what if it’s public? Can’t people burp while eating?” I grabbed my napkin and roughly wiped my mouth, then tossed the greasy napkin onto the table. “Mr. Shaw, what were you saying about high standards? How high? Higher than my family’s pig pen?” Tyler shot up from his chair, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. “Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!” He pointed at me, his finger trembling. “How could Uncle Marcus have a daughter like you! I, Tyler Shaw, would rather stay single forever than marry a savage like you!” With that, he grabbed his coat and stormed out like dogs were chasing him. Vivian called out “Tyler” half-heartedly, then turned to look at me, unable to suppress her smile. [Idiot. Let’s see how you explain this to Mom and Dad. The Shaw family was the best match, and you ruined it. Just wait to get chewed out.] I leaned back in my chair, leisurely picking my teeth. Kade stood in the corner, silent the whole time. I glanced at him and noticed his mouth seemed to twitch slightly. [She acted that really well. But why would she deliberately provoke Tyler? Mr. Caldwell values this marriage alliance highly.] Oh, he saw through me? Worthy of the man I’ve set my sights on—sharp eyes.

Though I’d driven Tyler away, he hadn’t given up. A few days later, I got a call from him asking me to meet at a hotel, saying he wanted to apologize and discuss the marriage again. Apologize? I’d believe dogs could stop eating shit before I’d believe he’d apologize. I arrived at the hotel room door but didn’t rush in. [Once I drug her and take some photos, she’ll have to break off the engagement even if she doesn’t want to. The Caldwell family will definitely marry Vivian to me to save face. Two birds with one stone.] Tyler’s sleazy thoughts came from inside the room. I smiled coldly, pulled a mini voice recorder from my bag, turned it on, and clipped it inside my collar. “Kade, wait outside.” I gave him a look. “If I’m not out in ten minutes, kick the door down.” Kade frowned: “Miss Caldwell, if there’s danger, I should go in with you now.” “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” I pushed the door open. Tyler sat on the sofa, two glasses of red wine on the table. “Stella, you came.” He’d changed his tune, smiling greasily. “I was out of line last time. Today I’m here to apologize properly.” He pushed one of the wine glasses toward me. [Drink it. Once you drink, you’re mine to do with as I please. This drug’s imported—super potent.] I picked up the glass and swirled it: “Mr. Shaw being so polite, I’m almost flattered.” “As I should be, as I should be.” He stared at the glass in my hand, his eyes eager. I pretended to take a sip, but actually poured it all into an absorbent sponge hidden in my sleeve. “This wine… I feel a bit dizzy…” I held my forehead and collapsed onto the sofa. “Dizzy is right.” Tyler stood up with a sinister grin and started unbuckling his belt. “Playing hard to get? Today I’ll show you what a real man is.” He pulled out his phone and snapped a couple photos of me, then lunged forward. Just as his filthy hands were about to touch me, the door exploded open with a “BANG!” Kade appeared in the doorway like a death god. Seeing the scene before him, his eyes instantly filled with towering fury. “You’re dead!” He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed Tyler by the collar, lifted him like a chicken, then slammed a fist into his face. “AHHH!” Tyler screamed as blood gushed from his nose. Kade didn’t stop, his fists raining down, each one accompanied by the sound of breaking bones. “Stop! Stop! I’m the Shaw family’s eldest son! You’re just a bodyguard, how dare you hit me… AHH!” I sat up from the sofa, calmly straightened my clothes, and watched Tyler getting beaten to a pulp. “Kade, that’s enough. Don’t actually kill him.” Only then did Kade stop, throwing Tyler onto the ground like a dead dog. He turned around, looked me up and down, his voice tight: “Are you okay?” “I’m fine. You were here, weren’t you?” I smiled at him. The fury in his eyes hadn’t completely dissipated, and the way he looked at me was extremely complex. [Knowing there was danger and still going in alone—is this woman crazy? What if I’d been a second late…]

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On my day off, I saw a colleague in the work chat complaining again: “Being a content moderator for adult material really isn’t a job for human beings.” “This is the 999th time I’ve come across this disgusting man’s videos of secretly filming his fully naked daughter.” The group chat exploded instantly. “Is the mother dead or something? Why isn’t she doing anything about this!” I couldn’t help but frown, thinking of my own ten-year-old daughter, Mia. My husband, Derek, always treasured her like a fragile jewel, treating her with the utmost care and affection. Soon after, my colleague sent several 60-second voice messages. I could feel her fury even through the screen. “This old pervert actually reported me, saying I’m interfering with his income!” I clicked on the recording she sent. A man’s roar came through: “What’s wrong with me filming my own daughter? Without me, she’d still be queuing up in the underworld waiting to be reincarnated!” “She is just a useless girl!” “I’m not asking anyone to touch her or sleep with her. Posting a few videos won’t kill her! Mind your own business!” “You block one video, I’ll post another. I still have 99 videos of my daughter from different angles in my album!” The blood drained from my face instantly. This voice sounded eerily similar to my doting husband’s!

I forced myself to stay calm and turned to my daughter, who was sitting on the couch watching TV. “Mia, tell Mommy secretly—have you been playing any photo games with Daddy lately?” Mia pouted, huffing indignantly. “Daddy’s been too busy playing on his phone. He hasn’t played with me in forever!” I asked, puzzled, “Doesn’t Daddy take you swimming every time? Don’t you two swim together?” “No, Daddy says he doesn’t know how to swim. He always has the instructor teach me. He even found me a gentle female teacher!” Hearing this, I let out a sigh of relief. It must have been a voice modulator making the voices sound similar. Just as I was about to ask Mia more questions, my phone buzzed with a private message from my colleague. “Madison, check out the video in the group chat!” I quickly opened the group chat. The colleague who’d been venting had posted the videos there. Looking at the thumbnail showing the little girl’s dress, my heart skipped a beat. Mia had the exact same dress. I took a deep breath and clicked on the video. The footage showed a little girl using the bathroom. From the environment, it appeared to be a public restroom. But from the filming angle, it clearly wasn’t a hidden camera shot—it was filmed from directly in front of the little girl. The video was blurry and shaky, but it only captured the little girl using the toilet, nothing else. Besides, I bought Mia’s clothes from mainstream brands—the chances of someone else having the same outfit were high. I was about to close it when I suddenly noticed a red butterfly birthmark on the back of the little girl’s hand as she lifted her dress. My breath caught, and my phone nearly slipped from my hands. This birthmark was identical to the one on Mia’s hand. A chill shot up from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. My breathing became labored. I suddenly remembered Derek’s recent odd behavior. He used to be completely against enrolling Mia in any extracurricular activities. He said he just wanted her to enjoy a happy childhood without exhausting her. But a month ago, he suddenly enrolled her in swimming lessons. I’d asked him why at the time, and he’d only said a friend had just opened a swimming center with a discount, and he was doing the friend a favor. Thinking back to when Mia first excitedly told me about the swimming center’s blue and white bathroom decorated with jellyfish, I suddenly felt restless. With trembling hands, I opened my messaging app and messaged Derek. Taking a deep breath, I tried to sound casual: “Derek, where is your friend’s swimming center? My colleague’s son wants to learn swimming, so she asked me to find out.” He replied almost instantly: “I’ll send you the location. Mention my name for a discount!” “Thanks!” I immediately took Mia and hailed a cab to the swimming center. Seeing the lively scene inside, I exhaled in relief. But as soon as I entered, something felt off. Most of the people here were fathers with their daughters—very few other women. As I stood there in a daze, a man actually patted Mia on the bottom. “Mia, you’re late! That means you’ll have to be punished!”

I swept Mia into my arms, my face darkening. “Who are you? Don’t you know that’s harassment!” Seeing my expression, the man quickly bent down to apologize. “I’m so sorry. I’m the father of Mia’s good friend Emma. I’m used to joking around with Emma, and I wasn’t thinking. I apologize!” “You’re here to bring Mia to her swimming lesson, right? You should hurry inside—the instructor has already started class.” I looked down at Mia. “Sweetie, is what he’s saying true?” Mia nodded. “Yes, Mr. Harris is Emma’s dad. Mommy, can I skip class today? I want to go get a hamburger.” Seeing that Mia seemed fine, I stroked her head. “Okay, after Mommy asks about something, I’ll take you for hamburgers.” I ignored the man beside me and walked straight to the front desk. “My daughter lost her silver bracelet somewhere. Could you please help me check the security footage?” The receptionist readily pulled up the surveillance video for me. In the footage, when Mia was changing clothes and using the bathroom, Derek stood outside the door waiting. He never went in. I’d been married to Derek for ten years. After five failed IVF attempts, we finally had Mia. Derek usually watched over Mia more carefully than his own eyes. You could say he was afraid she’d fly away if he held her in his hands, or melt if he kept her in his mouth. Even when male relatives in the family sneaked a kiss on Mia’s cheek, he’d get angry. He said there should be boundaries between males and females, and he wanted to establish proper gender awareness for the child. Therefore, bathing and dressing Mia had always been my responsibility. Sometimes, when I came home late and asked him to help bathe Mia, he would righteously refuse. To think he would secretly film Mia—I didn’t believe it. But all the signs seemed to point to something wrong with him. I returned home filled with worry. As soon as I pushed open the door, Derek rushed over. “It’s so late—why did you take Mia outside? It’s not safe!” “Next time you want to go out at night, you must take me with you.” “I can’t let my precious baby get hurt in any way.” Seeing his anxious expression, warmth flooded my heart, and the doubts and unease from earlier dissipated significantly. Mia twirled around happily in the Elsa princess dress he’d bought her, constantly asking me if she looked pretty. I agreed with Mia, then cautiously broached the subject with Derek. “Derek, my colleague said she’s been finding a lot of videos of young girls being secretly filmed lately. What kind of person do you think could do something like that?” “Don’t these people have daughters of their own?” Unexpectedly, Derek’s face darkened. “People like that should be dragged out and shot!” “If anyone dared to secretly film my daughter, I’d beat them until their own mother wouldn’t recognize them!” With that, he pulled Mia close and instructed her, “Mia, you must never let anyone touch the areas covered by your underwear and clothes, understand? Not even Daddy!” “Madison, you need to be careful too. Don’t take Mia out at night anymore! Who knows if those people might be lurking on the streets?” Looking at him, I felt full of guilt. Perhaps I shouldn’t have suspected him.

After I’d put Mia to bed, I returned to our room to find Derek showering, his phone casually left on the table. Remembering the voice message I’d heard today, I couldn’t resist secretly picking up his phone to look through it. My messaging app, chat history, payment records, photo albums—I even carefully went through his hidden private space. Clean. Surprisingly clean. His chat history with friends was full of “Look how sweet my daughter is,” “Look how well-behaved my daughter is,” “You’re just jealous I have a daughter and you don’t.” Even when a friend suggested arranging a childhood engagement, Derek tore into him viciously. Had I really been overthinking this? I began to question my own paranoia. Perhaps the girl in the video just happened to have the same birthmark. After all, there were too many coincidences in this world. And the clothing and the swimming center’s decor didn’t prove anything either. I put the phone back in its original position and let out a long breath, feeling much lighter. Guilt washed over me like a tide. I began to reflect on my distrust of him. For the next week, I continued to let Derek take Mia to swimming lessons as usual. I stayed home preparing dinner for them, making Derek’s favorite braised pork ribs. But that day, while washing Mia’s pants, I discovered a yellowish stain with a faint fishy smell. My heart dropped, and unease surged through me once more. That night, after Derek fell asleep, I snuck out like a thief and took his phone. I suddenly remembered that when he first bought this phone, he’d bragged to me about it. “Madison, this phone can switch systems and log into different accounts. That way no one can interrupt our father-daughter time.” With trembling hands, I entered the password he’d told me back then. The screen displayed “Incorrect Password!” I tried again with my birthday, his birthday, our wedding anniversary—none of them worked. Finally, I entered Mia’s birth date, and the phone screen revealed a completely different interface. A message popped up. “Freshly available little abalone, fifty per session.”

My head buzzed, and a chill shot from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. With shaking hands, I clicked on a group chat called “Seafood Should Be Eaten Fresh.” What greeted my eyes were auctions of different categories of “seafood.” But the photos being posted were intimate pictures of young girls of various ages. What struck me like a thunderbolt was that Derek seemed to be a regular member. I kept scrolling up and suddenly found the video my colleague had forwarded to our group chat. The person who posted it was Derek! I collapsed onto the sofa, my mind going blank. After quite a while, I finally recovered. I opened the photo album and found it densely packed with videos of Mia from various angles. My vision went dark, and I nearly fainted. Fury erupted like a volcano. I wanted to charge into the bedroom immediately, wake Derek up, confront him, tear him apart! But I quickly calmed down. No, I couldn’t alert him. If he’d been able to hide this from me for so long, he must have kept some insurance. I needed to gather solid evidence before he’d have nothing to say! I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down and think about my next move. I used my phone to photograph the chat records and transfer records, then put his phone back. After that, I contacted a private investigator to investigate Derek. The next morning, as soon as Derek left the house, I received materials from the private investigator. Unexpectedly, Derek had joined this organization even before Mia was born. At first, he only watched videos posted by others. Later, he actually started selling videos of Mia. Looking at the dense consumption records all belonging to Derek, my heart felt like it was being cut with knives—agonizing pain followed by extreme nausea. Starting a month ago, they’d actually developed offline activities. The location was the swimming center where Mia had enrolled. No wonder Derek went out for team building every week, lying to me that it was a company gathering inconvenient for family members. How laughable. The so-called gathering was actually a group of them getting together to auction off videos they’d secretly filmed. These scum—I had to make them pay!

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I used to be the most cherished child in my family. Until my brother was born, and every single one of my “out of line” behaviors became threats to him. On my brother’s first birthday, I spent an entire month building him a singing castle from over a thousand pieces. But when I turned it on, the dazzling lights and mechanical sounds scared him into tears. That night, my father smashed my castle, and my mother slapped me for the first time in my life. The next day, I was sent to a boarding reform academy that claimed to “reshape lives.” My father looked at me with ice-cold eyes: “Director Wallace, my daughter has something wrong with her head. I need you to make her ‘normal.’” “As for payment, I’ll donate ten million dollars to the academy. Plus, I’ll cover all future education expenses for your son.” Three years later, they came to pick me up from the academy. Seeing me in my rigid white dress, hands folded at my abdomen, walking as if measured by a ruler, they were extremely satisfied. My father smiled and opened his arms toward me: “Baby, I’m here to take you home.” Instead, I took a step back, bowed in standard form, and recited in a voice devoid of emotion. “New Life Code, Article Three: Physical contact within three meters with strangers is prohibited unless necessary.”

My father’s outstretched arms froze in mid-air. The smile on his face gradually disappeared, leaving only shock. My mother hurried over, forcefully pulling down his arms, plastering a smile on her face. “You’ve learned manners now. That’s wonderful.” She tried to take my hand. I stepped back again, maintaining a three-meter distance from her. My mother’s smile completely froze. My father’s expression darkened, but he still said patiently: “Nora, stop this. Come home with us.” I didn’t move, only stared at them expressionlessly. After a full minute, I finally nodded. “Command confirmed: Return home.” I turned and began walking, each step precisely the same distance as the last. They followed behind me in complete silence. The car stopped in front of a familiar mansion, but I felt nothing. They led me into a room. Pure white walls, pure white bedsheets, a pure white desk. The room contained only necessities, without any extra decoration. Like a high-end hospital room. My father said with a hint of flattery: “Nora, look, we prepared this new room for you. You always complained your room was messy before. You’ll definitely like this one.” I surveyed the room and nodded. “Meets New Life Code Appendix Two, Environmental Cleanliness Standards.” A muscle in my father’s face twitched. Dinnertime. I sat at the table, back perfectly straight, hands resting on my knees. When the meal began, I picked up my fork and only took food from directly in front of me. The number of times I chewed, when I drank water—everything strictly followed some invisible standard. My mother watched me, her eyes filled with indescribable heartache. She placed a piece of roasted meat in my bowl. “Nora, this used to be your favorite. Try some.” I set down my fork. Then, right in front of her, I picked out that piece of meat and placed it on an empty plate beside me. I raised my head, looking at her face that had instantly turned pale, and calmly recited: “New Life Code, Article Seven: Refuse unrequested offerings to eliminate greed.” “You don’t need to follow those ridiculous rules at home!” My father finally lost his patience and slammed the table with a low roar. I turned my gaze to him, my eyes without a ripple of emotion. “The Code is life itself. It cannot be violated.” The air fell deadly silent. Just then, a little boy in pajamas came toddling over. He held up a red toy in his hands, presenting it to me. “Nora, play with me.” It was my brother. I immediately stood up from my chair and quickly stepped back two paces, creating distance between us. “New Life Code, Article Nineteen: Contact with addictive entertainment items is prohibited.” My reaction was fast and mechanical. My four-year-old brother was frightened. He froze in place, his mouth trembling, then burst into tears. The piercing cry shattered the quiet of the dining room. Three years ago, it was also such a cry that made my father smash my castle. History was repeating itself. My mother’s face instantly became extremely ugly. Without thinking, she shouted at me: “You again!” Her voice was shrill, filled with rage. But when her eyes met my hollow gaze, that fire seemed to be extinguished by a bucket of ice water. She opened her mouth, but the rest of her scolding wouldn’t come out. In its place was a chill rising from the depths of her heart. My father irritably picked up the crying boy and waved his hand forcefully. “Enough! Go to your room!” I didn’t argue. “Command received.” I turned and left the dining room with measured steps, as if walking along a ruler. Behind me were my brother’s endless cries and my parents’ increasingly heavy breathing. They had finally gotten their “perfect” daughter. A daughter who was absolutely obedient, absolutely well-behaved.

The next day, my father tried to compensate me with material things. He bought back the latest LEGO model set, containing thousands of pieces. It was the “Galactic Fortress” I used to dream about having. He pushed the huge box in front of me, his face showing a hint of expectation. “Nora, look what I got you.” I walked forward, my gaze lingering on the box for three seconds. Then I calmly picked it up, walked to the storage cabinet, and placed it on the highest, most difficult-to-reach shelf. I turned around and met his astonished gaze. “New Life Code, Article Fifteen: Unnecessary complex creative activities are prohibited to prevent scattered thinking.” My father’s face instantly turned livid. The gift he had spent an entire evening rushing to buy was treated by me as a contraband item that needed to be sealed away. My mother, meanwhile, tried to awaken me with emotion. She pulled out a thick photo album, waved at me, wanting me to sit beside her. I remained seated without moving. Seeing this, my mother had no choice but to hold the album in front of me, pointing to one of the photos. “Nora, look, this is you. So adorable.” In the photo, an eight or nine-year-old girl wore a T-shirt covered in paint, smiling brilliantly at the camera, with a bit of cream still on her teeth. I looked at the photo she pointed to without reaction. After half a minute, I finally nodded. “Data confirmed. Subject: Nora Lincoln. Time: ninth birthday.” I paused, then added: “Emotional response module not activated.” My mother’s hands holding the album began to tremble. She looked to my father as if seeking help. My father’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he said nothing. That afternoon, my brother was chasing a ball around the living room. His feet slipped, and he fell forward, his knee hitting hard against the corner of the coffee table. “Wahhh—” Heart-wrenching cries erupted as blood instantly seeped from his knee. “Tyler!” My mother and father cried out and were about to rush over. But I was faster than them. My body activated like an emergency medical robot, instantly springing into action. I rushed to the medicine cabinet, opened it, and took out iodine, cotton swabs, and bandages. The entire process had no pause. I walked quickly to my brother, crouching down. He was sobbing uncontrollably, looking at me with fear. I said in a voice without inflection: “Emergency medical protocol activated. Step one: clean the wound.” My fingers were as steady as surgical clamps, precisely using cotton swabs dipped in iodine to clean his bleeding wound. I wiped ten times total, changing cotton swabs after every five wipes. The wound was irritated, making him cry harder, his body starting to thrash. “Command: Remain still.” I spoke coldly. My brother seemed frightened by my voice. His crying hitched, and he actually stopped moving. I quickly cleaned, disinfected, and applied the bandage. After finishing, I stood up and reported to my dumbstruck parents: “Treatment complete. Wound depth approximately two millimeters, length three centimeters.” “Recommend twenty-four hour observation to prevent infection.” After speaking, I turned to clean the used medical supplies. Only my brother’s suppressed sobbing remained in the living room. My mother looked at my meticulous back, her lips trembling, finally managing to speak: “Before… even when he just scraped his skin a little, you would cry harder than him…” I stopped what I was doing and turned to look at her. My eyes were hollow, as if analyzing an incomprehensible term. “Sad?” I tilted my head, seemingly searching for this command in my database. After a few seconds, I provided an answer: “No relevant command in database.” In that moment, I clearly saw fear climb onto their faces for the first time. They were finally beginning to realize. What they had personally erased wasn’t just my so-called “flaws.” But also my “humanity.”

Late at night. I lay in the pure white bed, my body as if trapped in an invisible cage. Nightmares surged like tidal waves. “Subject 734, violation of solitary confinement regulations. Thinking about content unrelated to the Code.” “Punishment… water torture…” “No… don’t…” “Alert, alert! Emotional fluctuation exceeding limits! Initiating electric shock…” I began to struggle violently in bed, my forehead covered in cold sweat, teeth clenched tight, uttering incoherent sleep talk. “It hurts… I was wrong…” My parents in the next room were awakened. They rushed into my room, turned on the light, and saw me in unbearable pain. “Nora!” My mother let out a cry, tears instantly flowing. She rushed to the bedside, reaching out to hold me, to wipe the cold sweat from my forehead. “Nora, don’t be afraid. I’m here, I’m here…” The moment her hand touched my skin. My eyes flew open. In those eyes was no longer the daytime emptiness, but pure terror and agony taken to the extreme. Like a cornered beast. “Alert! Alert! Violation of New Life Code Article Three! Non-necessary contact with strangers!” I used every ounce of strength to push her away. “Level Two punishment initiated!” The shrill alarm seemed to sound only in my mind. I suddenly sat up from the bed, hands gripping my head tightly, my body beginning to convulse violently beyond control. My teeth ground together audibly, guttural groans emerging from my throat. It was a pure, physiological pain response. My mother and father were completely stunned by the scene before them. They stood frozen in place, watching me convulse and spasm on the bed, not daring to step forward. A few seconds passed, yet it felt like several centuries. The convulsions suddenly stopped. I released my head and slowly sat up straight, rigid as a spear. The eyes that had just been full of pain and terror became a deathly emptiness once again. As if the brutal struggle moments ago had been nothing but an illusion. I raised my head, meeting their horrified gazes, and said in a disturbingly calm voice: “System malfunction eliminated.” “Please leave. It is now rest period.” My father’s lips trembled, unable to utter a single word. My mother collapsed on the floor, looking at me—a completely different person—as bone-chilling cold spread from her feet to the top of her head. The hell they had personally created, named “discipline.” My father sat in the living room calling Director Wallace all night, but no one answered. It wasn’t until nine o’clock the next morning that the call was finally picked up. “Director Wallace! What the hell did you do to my daughter!?” “What is that punishment mechanism!?” On the other end, Director Wallace’s voice sounded refined and cultured, even carrying a hint of a smile. “Mr. Lincoln, don’t get excited. That’s our latest ‘deep sleep therapy.’ Through subconscious guidance, we correct bad behaviors. Occasionally some rejection reactions occur—it’s perfectly normal.” “Normal? She was convulsing like she’d gone mad! She was screaming about electric shocks! Water torture!” My father’s voice trembled with rage. The laughter on the other end disappeared. Director Wallace’s tone instantly turned cold. “Mr. Lincoln, it was you who personally requested that we use the most efficient and thorough methods to make her ‘normal.’” My father’s breathing hitched. Director Wallace continued unhurriedly, his voice like a venomous snake. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. My son just received a full scholarship to MIT. He’ll be leaving next month.” “This is all thanks to your generous ten million dollar donation back then.” “Our entire family remembers this favor.” A naked threat. Using his son’s future, using that ten million dollar “donation,” he blocked all of my father’s questions. My father slammed down the phone. I heard the dull thud of his fist hitting the table, and his suppressed, beast-like panting. He was being held hostage by the devil he had created with his own hands. On the other side, my mother was frantic. She frantically searched online for any information about “New Life Reform Academy.” Apart from glowing reviews on the official website, she found nothing. Just when she was about to despair, she finally discovered an encrypted parent forum. She paid someone to crack the password. Inside was a hell completely different from the official website. Line after line, word after word, all blood and tears of accusation.

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I’m Alpha Bruce’s only daughter, and the only female heir among our kind. To protect me, my father trained seven warriors to guard me since I was a child. Now I’m twenty-one, but I still haven’t found my mate. So my father asked me to choose a fiancé from those seven warriors. Without hesitation, I crossed out Liam’s name, the one I once loved the most. In my last life, I was kidnapped by a pack of rogues at my engagement party. They stabbed me through the heart with daggers coated in deadly wolfsbane. With my last bit of strength, I mind-linked my fiancé, Liam. “Save me.” But all I got was his cold reply: “Nova, you’re Alpha Bruce’s daughter. A few rogues shouldn’t be a problem for you. Lily fell into the lake. I need to save her first.” The wolfsbane spread through my body. And when I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn—back to the day my father asked me to choose my fiancé. The familiar list came into view, and I jolted awake. The agony of wolfsbane burning through my body hadn’t faded yet when my father’s voice rang in my ears. “Nova, I’m getting old. One day you’ll inherit my position as Alpha of the Ironwood Pack. Today, you must choose one of these seven men to be your fiancé.” That was when it hit me. I had been reborn. Looking down at the list, I crossed out Liam’s name without hesitation. My father froze. “Nova… are you sure about this?” “You’ve liked Liam since you were a child. He’s the Beta’s son and the strongest fighter among them. Why would you cross out his name?” “Wait. I’ll have someone prepare a new list.” I quickly shook my head and cut him off. “Dad, I didn’t make a mistake.” “The one I want to choose isn’t Liam. It’s Sawyer.” The image of Sawyer flashed through my mind—the grief on his face after my death, the heart-wrenching howl that followed. “But Sawyer is only an orphan. His combat ability…” “Dad, I trust him.” My father studied me for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “Nova, don’t announce this yet. I’ll make it official at the engagement party in three days.” He paused. “You still have three days to change your mind.” After leaving my father’s study, I walked alone toward the lake at the edge of our pack’s territory. That was when I ran into Liam. Lily was with him. The moment she saw me, Lily shrank behind Liam as if she were frightened. Liam immediately pulled her in front of him and spoke gently. “Lily, don’t be afraid. With me here, no one will bully you.” Then he glared at me. “Nova, even if Lily is just a maid in your house, you can’t treat her like this.” I frowned in confusion. This scene was completely different from my previous life. At that moment, Lily raised her swollen, reddened hand and placed it on Liam’s arm. “Liam… please don’t blame Nova,” she said softly. “I’m only an Omega. Baking bread for her is what I’m supposed to do. Even if she wanted to cut off my hand, I wouldn’t complain.” For a moment, I froze. I had never asked Lily to bake bread for me. Only then did I realize she was playing the same trick again—pretending to be pitiful so others would sympathize with her. Before I could explain, Liam exploded. “Nova, listen carefully. Even if you choose me as your fiancé, I will never love a vicious woman like you!” Then he gently stroked Lily’s injured hand, his eyes full of concern. “Lily, you’re not lowly at all. You’re far nobler than people with rotten hearts.” As he spoke, he cast me a look of pure contempt. My chest tightened painfully. In my past life… and in this one… He had never believed me. Suddenly, a figure rushed toward me with a knife. I screamed in surprise, but my body reacted instantly. A Rogue! Drawing on years of training, I kicked the knife out of his hand and forced him to the ground. Just then, Lily screamed and collapsed. Another Rogue had slashed her leg. Liam rushed to her side immediately, shielding her in his arms. Watching him choose her again, my heart slowly turned cold. In that brief moment of distraction, the Rogue I had knocked down lunged at me again. His blade shot toward my chest. But just before it could strike, someone suddenly appeared and kicked him to the ground. I looked up and froze. It was Sawyer.

Realizing their plan had failed, the two Rogues panicked and fled. Sawyer glared at Liam, his voice exploding with anger. “Liam, have you forgotten your mission? You’re Nova’s warrior. If something had happened to her, would you have taken responsibility for it?” A flicker of panic crossed Liam’s face, but he quickly masked it with indifference. “Nothing happened, did it?” he replied coldly. “Besides, Lily was injured because of Nova. I couldn’t just ignore her.” Sawyer’s expression darkened. He stepped forward and punched Liam square in the face. “So you just abandoned Nova’s safety?” he growled. “We all swore to Alpha Bruce that we’d protect her with our lives. Have you forgotten that oath?” Though a trace of guilt flashed across Liam’s face, he couldn’t tolerate Sawyer’s accusation—or the punch. The two of them immediately started fighting. “Stop!” I rushed forward, trying to separate them. Just then Lily cried out in pain. “Liam! It hurts!” Liam froze. He immediately turned to Lily, his expression full of concern. Carefully lifting her into his arms, he hurried away without another glance. Sawyer started after them, but I grabbed his arm. He turned back to me, his face cold, anger blazing in his eyes. “Why did you stop me?” he demanded. “After everything Liam just did to you, you still can’t bear to see him get hurt?” His eyes were actually turning red. “I didn’t—” “Enough,” he cut me off sharply. “There’s no need to explain.” “Since you chose him, then do whatever you want.” “I didn’t choose him!” The words burst out of me. Sawyer froze. A flash of surprise crossed his face, but it quickly faded. “You’ve liked him since childhood. Everyone knows that,” he said bitterly. “If you’re not choosing him, then who would you choose?” He waved a hand dismissively. “Forget it. Choose whoever you want.” Then he turned and walked away. I watched his lonely figure disappear down the path, my chest tightening with pain. If he knew the fiancé I had chosen was him… What kind of expression would he have? The thought filled me with unexpected anticipation. The next day, my father sent several attendants to deliver gowns for me to choose from for the engagement party. I had just picked up a dress when Liam walked in, supporting Lily as she limped beside him. The moment Lily saw the gowns, her eyes lit up. “They’re beautiful,” she said softly. But then her expression dimmed. “Unfortunately, I come from a poor family. I’ll probably never get to wear something this beautiful in my life.” Liam’s expression softened instantly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t say that,” he comforted her gently. “If you like it, I’ll buy it for you.” I ignored them. But Lily wasn’t done. She glanced at the dress in my hands. “That one is a limited edition, isn’t it? I saw it in a magazine before. It must be very expensive…” She lowered her head sadly. “I could never hope to have something like that.” Liam immediately walked over to me. “Since Lily likes that dress,” he said in a low voice, “give it to her.” Anger surged through me. “Why should I?” Liam frowned, as if my refusal was unreasonable. “You’re going to be engaged to me anyway,” he said arrogantly. “No matter what you wear, you’re wearing it for me to see, right?” “Besides, Lily was injured because of you. What’s wrong with giving her one dress?” “At worst, I’ll pay you for it.” I stared at him for a moment—then let out a cold laugh. “Who told you I’m getting engaged to you?”

A flicker of panic crossed Liam’s face, but it vanished just as quickly. He sneered at me. “Nova, the entire pack knows you’re obsessed with me. If you’re not choosing me, then who else would you choose?” His eyes turned cold. “Stop pretending. Just give the dress to Lily.” Before I could react, he yanked the gown from my hands and shoved it into Lily’s arms. The sequins scraped across my palm, slicing the skin open. Blood immediately welled up. Liam didn’t even glance at my injured hand. Instead, he gently placed an arm around Lily’s shoulders. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go try it on.” As they walked away, Lily turned her head slightly. She smiled at me. A slow, mocking smile. Her eyes were filled with naked provocation—as if silently reminding me that I had already lost. I forced a stiff smile in return. On the eve of the engagement ceremony, my father summoned the seven warriors. “You all know,” he said calmly, “that I asked Nova to choose one of you to become her fiancé. Whoever she chooses will help her lead the Ironwood Pack in the future.” “Tomorrow, I will announce her decision to the entire pack.” The room fell into a strange silence. In the corner, Sawyer leaned against the wall, silently drinking. Glass after glass. He didn’t look at anyone. Liam, on the other hand, looked restless. His eyes kept drifting toward the direction of Lily’s room. The other warriors began patting him on the back. “Congratulations, Liam.” “You’ll be leading the Ironwood Pack in the future.” “Take good care of Nova. Don’t disappoint Alpha Bruce.” My father glanced at me with a faint smile but said nothing. Everyone took his reaction as confirmation. In their eyes, Liam had already won. That night, Liam suddenly barged into my room. His face was dark with rage. Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of bed. The next second, he slammed me onto the floor. His hand shot out and clamped around my throat. “Nova,” he growled through gritted teeth, “why can’t you just leave me alone?” His fingers tightened. It became harder and harder to breathe. “It’s because of you that Lily ran away from home!” “If anything happens to her, I swear I won’t forgive you!” I struggled against his grip. “Are you insane?” I gasped. “What does Lily running away have to do with me?” His eyes were bloodshot. “If you hadn’t forced this engagement on me, Lily wouldn’t have left!” “She said in her message that she was in agony. If she does something stupid because of this—” His grip tightened again. Rage surged through me. With all my strength, I shoved him away. “Liam, listen carefully.” “I didn’t choose you.” “And I will never stand between you and Lily.” I straightened, my voice turning ice-cold. “But if you don’t get out of my room right now, I’ll have the guards drag you out.” For a moment, he froze. Then he let out a mocking laugh. “You’d better be telling the truth.” He finally regained a trace of rationality and stormed out Early the next morning, Liam returned. With Lily. His face looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept all night. Lily, on the other hand, looked flushed and radiant. And the faint scent of sex clung to her skin. My stomach churned. Liam stopped in front of me, his gaze icy. “Nova,” he said coldly, “even if I’m forced to marry you, I will never love you.” “If you dare humiliate Lily again…” His voice dropped dangerously. “I won’t let you get away with it.” With that, he turned and walked away with Lily. They didn’t look back once. I watched their retreating figures. And suddenly, a cold laugh echoed inside my mind. I couldn’t believe that in my previous life… I had actually fallen in love with someone like him.

Before the engagement party started, I had just finished my makeup when Lily came looking for me. She looked at me with resentment, her eyes full of hatred: “Nova, why? I refuse to accept it! Why were you born with high status while I can only be a despised Omega!” “Even Liam, the one I like, has to be forced to be engaged to you because of your father’s power!” Hearing this, I sneered and looked at her disdainfully, “Lily, hasn’t my father treated you well all these years?” “My father saw your family was poor and funded your education. After your parents died, he even took you into our home to raise you.” “Although you’re nominally a maid in our house, neither my father nor I have ever made you do any dirty or tiring work. But instead of being grateful, you constantly stir up trouble!” “As for Liam, if he truly loves you, he would give up everything to be with you! Not cling to my family’s power!” My words made Lily stagger back a few steps, “No… that’s not true… Liam loves me! He said you forced him. If he doesn’t marry you, your father will kill him.” I scoffed. “What kind of person is my father? Don’t you know? He’s kind to everyone in the pack. How could he force Liam to marry me?” Lily’s expression suddenly changed, her eyes turning vicious: “You’re lying! I’ll prove Liam’s love for me!” With that, she pulled a dagger from her pocket and stabbed her own arm, then let out a piercing scream. I watched, dumbfounded. Again? How long was she going to keep playing this framing game?! If it weren’t for the fact that her father had once been a werewolf warrior who sacrificed himself for our pack, I would have expelled her from the pack long ago! Several werewolf warriors rushed in upon hearing the sound. Lily stared at me intently, her voice weak: “Nova, why are you doing this to me!” Seeing this scene, Liam immediately flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. But the next second, he was pinned to the ground by the other werewolf warriors. “Liam, are you crazy? You actually hit Nova! If Alpha Bruce sees this, you’re finished!” Lily was sent to the hospital, and Liam also regained his sanity after the others’ persuasion. The banquet began. The hall was packed with people. My father took my hand and went on stage. “Today, I’ve gathered everyone here to announce some good news. Tonight, my daughter Nova will be engaged to one of the werewolf warriors present!” “Her fiancé is…” “Wait!” Just as everyone held their breath in anticipation, Liam interrupted my father. Everyone turned their gaze to Liam. My father’s face was full of anger. But Liam remained unfazed: “Alpha Bruce, I don’t like Nova at all. Even if you punish me today, I won’t be engaged to her!” As soon as he finished speaking, a commotion arose in the hall. “What’s going on here?” “Alpha Bruce’s daughter is being rejected in public!” …… My father laughed coldly, and the air instantly filled with a chill: “My daughter’s chosen fiancé was never you, Liam, but Sawyer!” At these words, the entire hall fell silent. No one expected that the fiancé I chose was actually Sawyer!

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