Category: English

The rain was pouring. I had been waiting for my boyfriend at the lab entrance for three hours. Then, my phone rang. It was him. “Vivian used one of her Privilege Coupons to make me pick her up. You should just Uber back by yourself, Chloe.” This was already the sixteenth time this month. It didn’t matter if it was Valentine’s Day or my birthday. With just one call, Ethan Carter would leave me behind without a second thought to go to her. Because when they broke up, they still had 99 unused “Relationship Privilege Coupons” left. I looked at my Uber app. There were over a hundred people in the queue ahead of me. I gripped the handle of my umbrella tighter. “The rain is too heavy… Can you please pick me up first?” On the other end of the line, there was only impatient blaming. “Vivian said she couldn’t get a ride, and you guys aren’t even heading in the same direction. It’s a waste of time for me to pick you up before going to her.” A busy tone cut through the air. He had hung up on me. So, he chose her. Again. Even though on her last birthday, she supposedly used the very last coupon. In a single moment, all my hope turned into complete disappointment. I let out a self-deprecating laugh and closed the Uber app. My finger slid across the screen, opening the chat box with my academic advisor. “Professor Vance, I want to sign up for the three-year locked-in Antarctic research expedition.” In three days, the research vessel heading to Antarctica would set sail. …

When I pushed the door open to our apartment, I was soaked to the bone. Water dripped down my calves, leaving a dark, wet puddle on the floor. But the warm lights in the living room were on, creating a cozy atmosphere. Ethan was holding a hairdryer, gently drying Vivian’s hair. Vivian held up her phone to show him something, and they laughed together. It felt like I had traveled back in time, watching the two of them being so intimate. A sharp pain pricked my heart once again. Hearing the door open, she turned her head. “Chloe is back.” Ethan gently pressed her head down, sighing with affection. “Don’t move around, or you’ll complain that I didn’t dry it properly again.” He looked up and saw me standing there soaking wet, looking a bit startled. “You didn’t bring an umbrella?” A wave of suppressed emotions welled up in my throat. But the words died in my mouth when I saw Vivian wearing my matching couple’s pajamas. Vivian and I grew up together. We had almost the exact same height and measurements, so we had shared clothes since we were kids. We used to think these coincidences were proof of our deep connection. Until I realized we both fell in love with the same man. Our connection finally turned sour. I looked away and forced a smile like I usually did. “I forgot…” Ethan didn’t explain anything either. He just said: “It’s a good thing you’ve always had a strong immune system. A little rain won’t hurt you. Vivian is different. She’s fragile. Just because of a little rain, she had to waste a Privilege Coupon.” Vivian rolled her eyes at him and smirked. “I just wanted a free chauffeur. It didn’t cost me anything, so why not?” The two of them started their usual playful bickering, as if that could somehow hide their underlying connection. Without saying a word, I took off my dripping coat and walked into the kitchen. The water on the counter was already ice cold. I was about to pour a cup just to get by. Suddenly, Vivian sneezed from the living room. She curled up on the sofa, clutching her stomach, her face pale with cold sweat on her forehead. Ethan walked into the kitchen in a hurry and took the glass from my hand. He turned to boil fresh water and carefully made her a cup of hot honey tea. I suddenly remembered that these two days were her period. No wonder a package had been delivered to the door earlier. It was her favorite brand of feminine products. Seeing me standing idle, he ordered me around naturally. “Chloe, go help her rub her stomach. I’ll boil the water.” He handed me a hot water bag. The scalding heat sent a sudden jolt of pain through my freezing skin. But he didn’t notice at all. I smiled mockingly at myself, took the hot water bag, and sat down next to Vivian, placing it gently over her stomach. Ethan brought the warm tea, fetched a blanket to cover her knees, and kept himself busy hovering around her. Vivian leaned against my shoulder, her face pale but her eyes curving into a smile. “I knew I made the right choice to break up with him and set you two up.” “See? Now both of you can take care of me.” Hearing this, Ethan seemed a bit annoyed and scoffed quietly. Vivian giggled, then pouted at me. “Chloe, I miss your cooking.” Ethan stood up and turned to me, his tone making it sound like a given. “Chloe, go make her a bowl of pasta. She’s not feeling well right now.” Vivian pulled my arm, pretending to politely decline. “Maybe later. She hasn’t even taken a shower after being in the rain for so long.” But Ethan insisted. “Let her cook first before taking a shower. That way we don’t waste time. If we wait any longer, it’ll be late-night junk food, which is bad for her stomach.” With that, he smiled and pushed me into the kitchen, closing the door behind me. The sound of the door closing shut me out into a completely different world. While cutting the vegetables, the knife slipped and sliced into my left index finger. A dull pain made me gasp. Beads of blood immediately welled up, dripping down my finger. Meanwhile, the sound of their roaring laughter over a TV show drifted in from the living room. When the aroma of the food started to fill the kitchen, I heard Vivian shamelessly commanding Ethan: “I don’t want to move. Bring it over to me.” He walked into the kitchen, picked up the bowl meant for Vivian near the door, and turned to leave. Only my bowl was left behind, sitting lonely on the counter.

Vivian always said that the person who comes later enjoys the shade of the tree planted by the one before. But this tree had long since grown into exactly what Vivian liked. The pale yellow curtains in the living room, the soft fabric sofa—all of them were chosen by Vivian back then. The branches of this tree were too thick. But the shade it left for me didn’t even cover my feet. My head felt heavy, so I sat down on the sofa. Ethan and Vivian sat down next to me and started a movie. “Have you seen this one? The male lead was so dumb back then.” Vivian pointed at the screen. “You insisted on dragging me to the theater, and then you fell asleep yourself.” They were sharing a past that I had no part of, perfectly in sync. I sat between them like a ghost. The AC in the living room was set very low. Having just been drenched in the rain, I was shivering. As my consciousness started to blur, a cashmere blanket was suddenly wrapped around me. Ethan leaned down, carefully tucking in the edges for me. “How old are you? You still don’t know how to take care of yourself.” Before I could even savor this long-awaited warmth. Vivian rubbed her arms and shivered. “This movie is making me feel a bit chilly, too.” Ethan’s hands froze for a fraction of a second as he tucked me in. The next second, the blanket was pulled away, and most of it was draped over Vivian. The blanket slid off my shoulders, leaving only a tiny corner that barely covered my knees. The cold air rushed over me again, making my head spin even more. I couldn’t take it anymore and stood up. “You guys go ahead and watch. I’m going to bed.” Before closing my bedroom door, I couldn’t help but look back. Ethan had taken my spot, and Vivian’s head was resting on his shoulder. The two of them looked just like the main characters of the movie—a picture-perfect couple. I collapsed onto the bed, my head pounding like it was about to explode. I don’t know how much time passed before my door was pushed open. Ethan walked in, complaining. “Vivian went home by herself. It’s so late, and she still insisted on not letting me drive her.” He kept looking at his phone, checking Vivian’s GPS location over and over. “Thank God she made it home safe, otherwise—” Only then did he look up and notice my flushed face. “Chloe?” He reached out to touch my forehead. “Why are you so hot?” Muttering under his breath, he quickly brought over some warm water. A warm, damp towel was placed on my forehead. His face was inches away, and his concern seemed genuine. Suddenly, my eyes welled with tears. “Ethan, I’m leaving.” His hand paused, and then he let out a soft laugh. “Are you delirious from the fever? Where are you going?” After seeing the number on the thermometer, his brow furrowed deeply. “No way. I’m taking you to the hospital.” He rushed to grab his car keys and coat. I watched his frantic silhouette. My hardened heart, softened by his sudden panic, cracked just a little. Maybe he did care about me? Before Ethan could even put on his coat, his phone rang. It was Vivian. “Ethan, Milo is missing!” Her voice on the other end was trembling with tears. “I’ve searched everywhere and I can’t find him. Did he run outside…” Milo was the cat they had raised together. After they broke up, the cat went to Vivian, which also became the perfect excuse for Ethan to visit her house. Ethan’s hand holding the car keys froze in mid-air. “Stay with me, please?” I looked at him, holding onto my very last shred of hope. Whether we went to the hospital or just stayed home. I just needed him to choose me once. Ethan avoided my gaze. “Take some fever medicine first.” He grabbed a random box of medicine from the first-aid kit and stuffed it into my hands. “Milo is like my kid, too. It’s raining so hard outside. He’ll be terrified.” Then he turned and rushed out, his back filled with urgency. The front door slammed shut again. I looked down at the box of medicine in my hand. It was Vivian’s allergy medication. He had kept it all this time. I threw the medicine into the trash can, picked up my phone from the nightstand, and finally smiled with relief. At the very bottom of the Antarctic research confirmation form, I signed my name.

After signing the form, I wandered into the living room in a daze to find some actual fever medicine. I felt top-heavy, and every step felt like walking on clouds. I pulled open a drawer, only to find Vivian’s hydrating face masks. Further back were Vivian’s vitamins and her hand cream left behind. In this home that supposedly belonged to us, their memories were scattered everywhere. In the end, I found two cold pills and swallowed them dry. My throat burned with pain. While booking my flight tickets. By chance, I stumbled upon a new update Ethan had just posted on Instagram. The picture was of Vivian holding the newly found Milo. Ethan was beside her, playing with the cat. Their hands overlapped in front of the camera. Caption: [Our lost baby is back. Mommy and Daddy will love you forever.] I stared at the words “Mommy and Daddy” for a long time. Just as I was about to scroll down, the screen flickered. When I refreshed, the post was gone. I didn’t know if he had hidden it from me or deleted it entirely. I didn’t have the energy to care. Just then, Ethan sent a voice note. “Milo still hasn’t been found. The rain is too heavy. You should go to sleep first.” He didn’t even bother to make up a believable lie. The cat had clearly been found, but he just wanted to spend the night with Vivian. “Ethan, are you staying at Vivian’s place tonight?” After a brief silence, he finally replied. “She and I broke up a long time ago. Don’t overthink it.” I tossed my phone aside. I lay back down on the bed, fighting a low fever all through the night. My pillow was soaked, though I couldn’t tell if it was with sweat or tears. The next morning, I was woken up by Ethan, who had returned at some point. “Chloe, today is our third anniversary.” He pulled open the curtains, letting the blinding sunlight in. “Let’s go to the zoo.” He pulled me downstairs, my steps still a bit unsteady. When we reached the garage, I saw Vivian sitting in the passenger seat. “If I hadn’t reminded him, you would’ve been waiting to yell at him,” she said as she got out of the car, standing naturally next to Ethan as she teased him. “You weren’t this forgetful when you were dating me.” Ethan rubbed his nose guiltily and slid into the driver’s seat. Vivian smiled and wrapped her arm around mine. “Chloe, you’re way too gentle. But with this guy, you really have to train him.” It wasn’t that I hadn’t fought over these things before. In the beginning, Ethan would apologize for being late to our dates. During our worst fight, he drove eight hours to the out-of-state lab where I was working on an experiment. In front of my peers, he knelt on one knee in the rain, promising he would never make me wait again. I had punched his shoulder with a red face, while he smiled like an idiot because I had forgiven him. “Besides my baby, who else is worth all this effort?” Until later, when Vivian called him away again and again using those “Privilege Coupons.” Every time he left in the middle of our dates to accompany Vivian, it became an unspoken rule. Clearly, today wasn’t about our anniversary. It was because Vivian wanted to go to the zoo. The zoo was packed during peak season, and the entrance split into two paths. To the left was the Antarctic Exhibit, and to the right was the Artificial Rainforest. Our combo tickets had to be scanned separately here. Because of a special event today, the Rainforest required couples to enter in pairs. Vivian looked at me with a conflicted expression. “Chloe, why don’t you go to the Antarctic Exhibit?” Before she could even finish, Ethan had already made the decision. “Didn’t you keep saying you wanted to go to Antarctica when you had that fever?” “It’s cold inside. It’ll help you cool down.” With that, he pushed me toward the Antarctic Exhibit. Then, holding the remaining two tickets, he walked toward the Artificial Rainforest with Vivian. I stood at the gate, watching their backs merge into the crowd. I hadn’t fully recovered from the fever, and the cold air of the Antarctic Exhibit made my joints ache. I found a bench in the corner to sit down and rest. A young couple walked past me hand-in-hand. “Let’s go to the rainforest later. They have a couple’s chemistry challenge there today.” “I heard the grand prize is a limited-edition plushie. Win it for me!” Listening to them, I stood up. I took a long detoured path and finally walked toward the exit of the Artificial Rainforest. A loud commotion came from ahead. Before I could even get close, the surrounding crowd pushed me to the very front. Amidst a wave of screams and cheers, I looked toward the stage. Ethan was holding Vivian, and the two of them were locked in a passionate kiss.

The host’s voice boomed over the speakers of the rainforest exhibit. “Last ten seconds!” By the time the crowd pushed me to the front, Ethan was leaning down, kissing Vivian. His hand was cupped behind her waist, holding her protectively. “Six! Five! Four!” Vivian clung to his chest, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him back. As the countdown ended, a thunderous applause erupted. The host handed the microphone to Ethan. “Congratulations to both of you on passing the challenge!” “Sir, is there anything you want to say to your girlfriend?” Ethan took the mic, looked at Vivian, and his voice was so tender it made my ears ring. “You will always have the privilege.” Vivian blushed and planted a kiss on his cheek. Another cheer erupted from the crowd. Someone next to me sighed with envy. “So sweet.” “This guy spoils his girlfriend so much.” I looked down and let out a soft laugh. Yeah. He spoiled her. But the girl he spoiled wasn’t me. As the crowd dispersed, Vivian walked off the stage with her arm wrapped around Ethan’s. She was cradling the limited-edition plushie in her arms, her lipstick slightly smudged. Seeing me, she didn’t panic at all. Instead, she rummaged through her bag, pulled out a palm-sized plush keychain, and stuffed it into my hands. “Chloe, I knew you’d love this.” “I specially made Ethan do the challenge with me just to win this for you.” I looked down at it. The stitching on the keychain was crooked, and the price tag from the gift shop near the exit was still attached. $2.99. The actual grand prize was held tightly in her arms. Ethan avoided my eyes. “Don’t you love these little trinkets?” “Just think of it as an anniversary gift.” Our third anniversary. I waited for him for three hours, only to be told to Uber home. I fought a high fever all night, only to have him search for Vivian’s cat. I was pushed into the Antarctic Exhibit to freeze until my joints ached, only to watch him and Vivian kiss on stage. And now, he was handing me Vivian’s scraps as an anniversary gift. “What kind of challenge was it?” I asked. Vivian’s smile stiffened. “Just a little couple’s chemistry game.” She quickly covered her mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that. The host was just teasing us.” Ethan frowned. “Chloe, don’t make a scene in public.” I stared at him in disbelief. So, even asking a simple question was considered “making a scene.” I squeezed the cheap keychain, the plastic edges digging painfully into my palm. Then, I heard myself speak in a very quiet voice: “Ethan, let’s break up.” But the next second, a parade float rolled past us from behind. The music was deafening. My farewell was completely drowned out. Ethan only frowned and asked, “What did you say?” Vivian was looking up at him, fixing his collar like a rightful girlfriend. I suddenly felt everything was so utterly pointless. “Nothing.” Ethan let out a sigh of relief and turned to support Vivian. “Are you tired from earlier?” Vivian blushed and tapped him. “It’s all your fault for kissing me so long.” They walked forward side-by-side. This time, I didn’t follow. Half an hour later, Ethan sent a message. “It’s too hard to get a ride at the zoo. I’m going to drop Vivian off first.” “Get an Uber yourself.” It was that phrase again. I stared at the screen for a long time, and finally, I smiled. Five hours later, I got into a car heading to the airport. Before blocking Ethan, I sent one last text. “Ethan.” “You and her—I don’t want either of you anymore.” Ethan stayed at Vivian’s place until the following evening before he realized something was wrong. Chloe hadn’t reached out to him all day. Her phone wouldn’t go through, and Snapchat only showed a grey arrow. A sudden weight pressed down on his chest. He immediately called Chloe’s research lab. The person who answered was her peer. “Chloe?” The person paused. “Didn’t she agree to the professor’s project yesterday?” Ethan’s hand holding the phone tightened instantly. “What did you say?” “She joined the locked-in Antarctic research expedition. She won’t be back for the next three years.” 5

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “466449”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Just as we were about to reach the checkout counter at the grocery store, my best friend, Chloe Miller, suddenly remembered she had forgotten to grab something. Without a second thought, my boyfriend, Ethan Sterling, turned around to go back with her. Before leaving, he didn’t forget to instruct me: “Stay in line and keep our spot. We’ll pay together when we get back.” By the time it was my turn at the register, neither of them had returned. I had no choice but to let the people behind me pass, one after another, until I was the very last person in the store. Still, there was no sign of them. Every single message I sent them vanished into thin air. When I finally lugged three heavy bags of Chloe’s favorite snacks back to the apartment, the two of them were sitting in the living room, laughing and chatting while watching TV. Ethan looked up at me. “Why took you so long?” My throat felt incredibly tight. “I was waiting for you guys at the store.” “Chloe suddenly got her period, so I had to rush her back,” Ethan explained casually, pointing toward the dining table. “I left some takeout for you.” I opened the box. Inside was a cold, dry burger and a few half-eaten chicken nuggets. “Why didn’t you text me if you were leaving early?” Ethan gave me a strange look. “My phone was on Do Not Disturb. I didn’t see your texts.” “Besides, who knew you’d actually keep waiting? Honestly, Clara, why are you always so stubborn and rigid?” Fine. I was stubborn. But from now on, I would no longer wait for someone who was never going to show up. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to Ethan’s biggest business rival. “Mr. Cross, does your offer to headhunt me with a high salary still stand?” He replied almost instantly. “You’ve finally come to your senses.” …

I slipped my phone back into my pocket. Then, I tossed the greasy leftover takeout box straight into the trash can. Turning around, I watched the two of them whispering and giggling on the sofa, their heads practically glued together. In this apartment, I felt like the intruder. We had been dating for three years. Ethan had always insisted on his strict morals, refusing to take the final step before marriage. He wouldn’t even set foot in my rented apartment. Back then, I genuinely believed I had found a rare, respectful gentleman. But everything changed during Chloe’s third month of living with me—which was also her second month interning at Ethan’s company, the Sterling Group. Ethan suddenly started visiting my apartment of his own accord. He had said, “Your friend Chloe has a really fun personality. She’s so innocent and cute, like the little sister I never had. Plus, her mother did your family a huge favor in the past. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her for you.” “Like a sister.” “Because she’s your best friend.” Now, those excuses had turned into him showing up here every single weekend. To avoid missing any crucial business deals, Ethan used to keep his phone on twenty-four-seven. But now, he could easily switch it to Do Not Disturb for Chloe. I looked down, silently unfavoriting Ethan’s contact and removing his pinned status on Snapchat. Then, I walked into the bedroom to pack my bags. Julian Cross had offered me three times my current salary, plus a luxury villa by the ocean. As for this apartment, which still had six months left on the lease… I could just leave it to them. Halfway through packing, a sharp, burning pain flared up in my stomach. Years of heavy drinking at corporate dinners and irregular meals had left me with chronic, severe stomach ulcers. Any slight trigger would set it off. I had planned to finish packing before eating, but my body couldn’t wait. I walked out to pour a glass of warm water. Rummaging through the pile of snacks, I found a single piece of bread that was easy on the stomach. But before I could even tear open the wrapper, Chloe’s voice drifted over. “Clara, could you please not eat that?” I paused, confused. “Why?” Chloe looked hesitant, casting a pitiful glance at Ethan. He caught her cue instantly, stepping over and snatching the bread right out of my hand. He pointed to a cartoon character printed on the packaging. “This is Chloe’s favorite limited-edition collab. It was the last one on the shelf. She’s been saving it because she couldn’t bear to eat it herself.” Chloe’s favorite collaboration? I lived under the same roof as her, yet I had no idea. But Ethan knew. “Fine,” I said softly, nodding. I raised the glass of warm water and drank it all in one gulp. Ethan frowned as he noticed my pale face. A flicker of worry crossed his eyes. “Is your stomach acting up again?” “Yeah.” Ethan knew how fragile my stomach was, but he also knew it was easy to soothe—all I needed was to put some warm food in it immediately. Yet, he simply tossed the bread back into Chloe’s bag and pulled out his phone. “What do you want to eat? I’ll order something on UberEats.” It was pouring rain outside. The fastest delivery would take at least thirty minutes. I shook my head. “No need.” I walked out into the heavy rain myself and made my way to the nearest convenience store. The clerk, Leo, smiled warmly and handed me a cup of hot chocolate. “On the house, Clara. By the way, could you do me a favor? Is your best friend’s boyfriend still hiring at his company?” I froze. “Her boyfriend?” Leo nodded, his eyes full of envy. “Yeah, the handsome guy who came in with her the other day. They were holding hands and looked so sweet. Your friend is so lucky to have such a rich, handsome boyfriend. Didn’t you know?” “I didn’t before,” I whispered. “But I do now.”

The next morning. As usual, I brought a stack of files to Ethan’s office for his signature, placing my resignation letter right on top. Ethan barely glanced at it before his face darkened completely. “We need efficiency in this office. You’re supposed to flip the documents directly to the signature page. You’ve been working with me for three years, Clara. Do I really need to remind you of the basics?” Sitting at the desk next to him, Chloe gently nudged his shoulder. Her tone was playful and teasing. “Ethan, why are you being so mean? You’re scaring Clara!” I subconsciously glanced at her desk. Once, that spot had been my exclusive workspace. But then Ethan had told me, “Chloe is your best friend, and she’s eager to learn. I’ll keep her close to train her myself. You can work in the outer office.” Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I spoke flatly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.” *Bang!* Ethan slammed his palm onto the polished mahogany desk. “I don’t want excuses. If this happens again, you can request a demotion. My standards are strict. Also, address me by my title during office hours.” I silently flipped every document to the signature page, watching him sign them one by one. My voice was so calm it surprised even myself. “Understood, Mr. Sterling.” Before my resignation could even be fully processed, the entire office was buzzing. Jessica from HR walked over to my desk with a cup of coffee. “Clara, are you seriously resigning? Sterling Group is a top-tier company. How can you bear to leave?” I forced a small smile. “It’s not about whether I want to leave. I just can’t stay here anymore.” She hesitated for a second. “Really? We all thought Mr. Sterling was going to give you a massive raise. I mean, the intern you recommended is practically his favorite person now. Rumor has it they’re already dating.” Ethan and I had been together for three years. He had always insisted on keeping our relationship a secret, claiming it would affect our professional image. Yet, Chloe had only been here for four months. And the rumors about them were already spreading like wildfire. I shook my head with a chuckle. “What they do is none of my business.” Once the HR paperwork was filed, I hired a courier service to take my personal belongings away. Taking one last look at the empty office, a hollow ache bloomed in my chest. But strangely, it didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. Julian Cross had already wired me a signing bonus of fifty thousand dollars, and his assistant had delivered the keys to my new villa. It was just three years of wasted youth. Thankfully, I had enough talent and value to afford the loss. Suddenly, a text from Ethan popped up on my phone: *”Let’s grab dinner after work. The Ivory Room.”* It was the high-end restaurant I had been begging him to take me to for over a year. But now, I had completely lost my appetite. “No, thanks. I have plans.” A few seconds passed before he replied. “Are you still mad because I was harsh on you in front of Chloe today? Come to dinner. I’ll make it up to you.”

The moment I stepped out of the office lobby, Chloe rushed over and wrapped her arms around my elbow. “Clara, let’s go! Ethan is treating us to dinner!” It was rush hour, and the lobby was crowded. I didn’t want to cause a scene by dragging myself away from her. But the second she pulled me into the car, I overheard a few coworkers whispering nearby. “Oh my gosh, they are so cute! Mr. Sterling and Chloe are definitely a thing. He’s even taking her out for dinner!” Chloe blushed and pretended to be flustered. “Oh no, they’re misunderstanding us! Clara, please don’t be mad. Should I go back and explain it to them right now?” I patted her hand gently. “No need.” After all, my suitcases were already sitting in my new villa. Once this dinner was over. Ethan and I would be completely done. Ethan mistook my compliance for “being mature.” Before we entered the restaurant, he slipped a small red velvet box into my hand. I opened it. Inside was an elegant, delicate bracelet. “You don’t need to stress over office gossip, Clara. You handled it well today. Consider this your reward.” I held out my wrist, quietly watching him fasten the clasp. I couldn’t help but recall an incident two years ago. A colleague had spotted us dining together and made a lighthearted joke. The very next day, Ethan fired him, stating, “Sterling Group has no room for gossiping employees.” Seeing how submissive I seemed tonight, Ethan’s mood lightened. “So, you’re not mad anymore?” “Chloe is still young and energetic, so she can be a bit undisciplined. I was only tough on you in the office to set an example for her.” It was rare for Ethan to explain himself so much to me. But his words sounded incredibly hollow and pathetic. When we were seated, I sat on one side of the booth alone, while Ethan and Chloe sat across from me. They shared a single menu, leaning in close. At some point, Ethan pointed at a picture and laughed out loud. “Chloe, look at this cartoon character. It looks just like you.” “Hey! What do you mean? My head is not that big!” Chloe pouted playfully, turning to me for support. “Clara, look at your boyfriend! Ethan is always teasing me!” The two of them laughed and bickered like a couple. I didn’t say a word. My head began to throb with a dull, numbing ache. Ethan had always been known as a cold, stern, and unapproachable CEO. This was the first time I had ever seen him laugh so freely, like a carefree boy. It turned out that being with Chloe, even just looking at a menu, could make him this happy. Good for them. They took their time ordering, never once asking me what I wanted. I didn’t bother to speak up either. I had no appetite anyway, and this would likely be my final meal with Ethan. I just needed to eat a few bites of whatever came to avoid triggering my stomach. But as the dishes were served, my heart sank. Chloe kept squealing about how delicious everything looked, but I couldn’t even bring myself to pick up my fork. The entire table was filled with spicy dishes, raw seafood, and overly sweet desserts. Just looking at the greasy food made my stomach churn violently. Chloe enthusiastically peeled a plate full of shrimp and pushed it in front of me. “Clara, you haven’t eaten anything! Hehe, are you just lazy? Here, I peeled these for you~” The strong, fishy smell hit my nose, and I quickly covered my face, suppressing a wave of nausea. “No, thank you. I don’t really like seafood.” “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” After dry-heaving in the stall several times, the lingering fishy smell finally cleared from my senses. I wiped the tears from my eyes and walked out. To my surprise, Ethan was waiting for me outside the restroom. I swallowed my pain and forced a weak smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Go back and accompany Chloe. She—” “Clara Vance.” Ethan spoke my full name, his voice dripping with cold annoyance. “I just praised you for being mature, and now you’re intentionally making Chloe uncomfortable. Who are you pulling that long face for?” “My stomach really hurts…” I tried to explain. But in the eyes of a man who had already shifted his affections, my explanation was nothing but a pitiful excuse. He sneered. “You have no problem playing nice with those difficult clients at business dinners, but you can’t even put on a fake smile for a young girl? Where is your emotional intelligence, Clara?” I clutched my stomach, my voice barely a whisper. “Then what exactly do you want me to do?” “Go back inside, and eat that plate of shrimp.”

I followed quietly behind Ethan back to the private dining room, keeping my head low. In the past, during corporate dinners, no matter how powerful or demanding the client was, the moment I mentioned my stomach was acting up, Ethan would step in and drink every single glass of alcohol on my behalf. When I warned him that the clients looked displeased, he would say: “Screw their opinions. Your health is more important than any business deal.” I covertly checked my phone. My official termination letter hadn’t cleared yet, which meant I wasn’t technically free. To avoid any last-minute complications with my exit, I had to play along. I had to show “high emotional intelligence.” Inside the room, Chloe’s eyes were red, and her makeup was slightly smudged. She had obviously been crying. I put on a flawless, perfectly practiced corporate smile. First, I apologized. Then, I offered a smooth explanation followed by a round of beautiful, flattering compliments. The transition was seamless. Chloe’s tearful frown instantly vanished, and the cold aura radiating from Ethan dissipated. Finally, I picked up the plate of peeled shrimp. Fighting back the intense urge to vomit, I swallowed them down, one by one. By the time I had eaten more than half of the plate, Ethan finally frowned and grabbed my wrist. “That’s enough.” The lively atmosphere returned to the table, and the two of them went back to laughing and chatting. I clutched my agonizing stomach, my face completely drained of color. When I looked up again, Ethan had stepped out to take a call. Chloe was staring at me with a sweet, triumphant smile. “Clara, honestly, I really need to thank you.” “For what?” “If it weren’t for you, I would have never met such a high-quality man like Ethan.” Chloe tilted her chin up, deliberately flashing her wrist. It was only then that I noticed the diamond cuff bracelet on her wrist. It was from the exact same luxury brand as the flimsy chain Ethan had just gifted me. To be precise, my bracelet was the free gift that came with her purchase. The skin beneath my bracelet suddenly felt hot and itchy, as if it were burning. Chloe continued, “Clara, I’m only saying this for your own good. You should pack up and leave him on your own terms. It’ll save you some dignity.” My stomach seized with another sharp, stabbing pain. Unable to hold myself up any longer, I collapsed onto the table, cold sweat pouring down my forehead. Just then, Ethan walked back into the room. Chloe immediately let out an exaggerated gasp, raising her hand. “Ethan! I accidentally cut my finger on a crab shell!” It was a microscopic scratch, barely oozing two tiny specks of blood. Yet, Ethan’s face paled with sheer panic. “We need to get you to the emergency room right now!” Desperate, my physical instinct made me reach out and grab the hem of Ethan’s jacket. “My stomach… it hurts so bad. Please, take me to the hospital too.” “I can’t!” Ethan snapped, brushing my hand off without even looking at me. “Chloe’s finger was cut by a raw seafood shell. There’s a severe risk of flesh-eating bacteria infection! The specialist clinic is on the east side of the city, and your usual clinic is on the west. They are on completely opposite sides.” “It’s not on the way.” I opened my mouth to plead, but Ethan quickly shook off my grip and rushed Chloe out the door. He threw one last sentence over his shoulder. “You’ve had stomach aches a thousand times. You can handle yourself. It’s not like you’re going to die.” The heavy door slammed shut. My vision blurred with sweat and tears as I fumbled with my phone. I couldn’t even see the screen clearly, and I had no idea whose number I dialed. When the call connected, a deep voice asked for my location. Hearing my weak whimper, he said only two words: “Wait there.” Right after the call disconnected, my phone buzzed with an incoming email. It was my official termination approval. A wry, painful laugh escaped my lips. Finally, it was over. A second before I blacked out from the pain, I sent Ethan one last message on Snapchat. “We are over. Let’s break up.”

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One night, I was scrolling through a local thread on Snapchat. [Year-End Review: Rating all the guys I hooked up with this year.] Thinking of my cold, distant husband sleeping in the other room, curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked on the post. The comment section was filled with girls expressing their jealousy over how many high-quality men the poster had been with. I was just about to leave a sarcastic comment of my own when the poster uploaded a new photo. My entire body froze. [The last one: my ultimate bed partner, and the guy who gave me my sexual awakening.] [Even though he’s married, he’s got a killer body, top-tier bedroom skills, and he gives me whatever I want.] The attached photo was a selfie of the two of them lying in bed. It was only then that I realized the poster was Sophia Miller, the girl next door who grew up with my husband. And the sleeping man in the photo was none other than my husband—James Walker. I scrolled down, checking the dates. Valentine’s Day—the night he claimed he had to “work overtime.” My birthday—the night he was “at a business dinner.” And our wedding anniversary—the night he finally came home late, only to use the excuse that he was “too exhausted” and went straight to sleep. Even last week, when I was hospitalized with acute gastroenteritis, my husband was in Miami, spending thousands of dollars on her. Every single time he was absent from my life, he was sleeping in another woman’s bed. I put my phone down. I didn’t cry. Instead, I screenshotted everything—especially the receipts for those expensive jewelry pieces—and saved them to an encrypted folder on my phone. Everything they took from me, I was going to make them pay back tenfold. In our one year of marriage, James was either working late or traveling for business. The times he actually came home could be counted on one hand. Every time I brought it up, he would dismiss me, saying his career had to come first. As it turned out, James had already gotten all the rest he needed in another woman’s bed. The bedroom door pushed open, and James walked in, smelling of heavy perfume. He smiled and wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Hey, babe. What are you looking at?” I stared at the fresh hickey on his collarbone and got straight to the point. “James, how much longer do you plan on putting on this show?” His smile stiffened, a flash of panic crossing his eyes before he quickly put his gentle mask back on. “Are you picking a fight again?” “Didn’t I tell you? Once I get promoted next year, I’ll make it up to you…” “There is no next year.” I shook his hands off, stood up, and looked him dead in the eye. “Save that speech for your ultimate bed partner.” James’s face paled slightly. “What bed partner? You know you’re the only one I love, Amy. You’re just being paranoid.” “Do I really need to spell it out for you? You used our joint account to pay for your little trip to Miami.” The color completely drained from James’s face. He grabbed my wrist. “Did you go through my phone?” “You were just careless. Did you forget whose family money built your career in the first place?” I violently slapped his hand away. He was left speechless, his eyes darting around before he tried to turn the tables on me. “Amy, seriously? You’re tracking me over something this minor?” Looking at him, a man so full of lies, the last bit of warmth in my chest turned ice-cold. He reached out to hug me, but I shoved him away so hard his back slammed against the doorframe with a dull thud. “Don’t touch me,” I said, coldness dripping from every word. “You’re filthy.” Before he could say anything else, the doorbell rang. I took the opportunity to walk out and open the door. James followed closely behind, his expression dark. Sophia Miller stood there, wearing a white cashmere coat and holding a gift box. She smiled sweetly. “Hey, Jimmy! Good evening.” The moment she stepped inside, her eyes locked onto James. Then, as if suddenly remembering I was there, she looked at me and said in an intentionally loud voice, “Oh, Amy, you’re here too! I’m so sorry, I was just so excited to see Jimmy. You’re not mad, are you?” James’s mother, Margaret, immediately chimed in. “Of course not! Come on in, Sophia. Sit down. Amy, why don’t you be a good host and cut some fruit for us?” I looked at James. He stood there, his head down, not saying a single word. How had I never noticed before? I had always been the outsider in this house. Sophia sat down comfortably on the couch and started commanding me. “Amy, I want strawberries. Cut them into heart shapes, okay?” “Also, that honey lemon water you made last time was so good. Can you make me another glass?” As she spoke, right in front of my face, she kicked off her slippers and rubbed her bare foot against James’s calf. James tensed up. He glanced at me, but he didn’t pull away. His mother raised her voice, impatient. “Go on, Amy. What’s taking you so long?” I stood by the coffee table, picked up the empty plate, and slammed it down onto the counter. “Don’t you have hands? Get it yourself.” Without waiting for their reaction, I turned around, went into the bedroom, and slammed the door shut. Outside, I heard Sophia’s fake, dramatic gasp and James’s hushed voice trying to comfort her. Leaning against the cold door, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Hi, Mr. Davis? I need to consult you on something. I want to know the best asset division strategy for a divorce involving adultery.”

After that night, James started coming home much more frequently. He even started offering to pick me up from work. But once I got into the car, I realized this wasn’t the way home. “Where are we going?” “You’ve been in a bad mood lately. I booked a table at a restaurant to make it up to you.” The car stopped in front of a high-end seafood restaurant. I recognized the place. Just a few days ago, Sophia had posted on Snapchat about how badly she wanted to eat here. The moment I pushed open the private dining room door, Sophia threw herself into James’s arms. “Jimmy! What took you so long?” I stood at the door and sneered. “So this is your way of making it up to me?” James quickly pushed Sophia away. “Sophie insisted on coming. She really wanted to apologize to you. Don’t be mad at her.” Sophia put on a pouty, apologetic face. “Yeah, Amy. I begged Jimmy to let me come so I could apologize. I’m so sorry.” “I even ordered their signature dishes. You have to try them,” Sophia said, pulling James down to sit next to her. I crossed my arms and watched the two of them. I felt like the third wheel in my own marriage. Sitting right next to James, Sophia picked up a peeled shrimp with her fork and held it to his mouth before she even ate anything herself. “Jimmy, open wide!” James didn’t even hesitate. He took the bite right off her fork. I sat opposite them, watching this circus with a cold stare. Margaret, his mother, was grinning from ear to ear. She turned to lecture me. “Look at how sweet Sophie is. Have you ever fed James like that, Amy?” I ignored Margaret. Instead, I looked directly at James and asked calmly, “You know I’m highly allergic to seafood. What is the meaning of booking this place?” “Is your apology bringing her along, letting her sit next to you, and eating food right out of her hand?” James froze. The half-eaten food almost fell out of his mouth. Sophia immediately jumped in. “Oh, Amy, it’s all my fault. I wanted to make this apology special. Please don’t blame Jimmy.” James, finding his escape route, nodded quickly. “Yeah, Amy. I told you, she’s like a sister to me. Sophie went through all this trouble to apologize to you. Just give her some respect.” I slammed my fork onto the table with a loud clatter. “I’m full.” I stood up and grabbed my purse. James finally panicked, grabbing my arm. “Amy! She already apologized. Why are you giving us attitude?” I violently shook him off, using enough force to make him stumble back a step. “James, you call the way you two were eating ‘brother and sister’? Do you think I’m blind? Is playing me for a fool that fun?” The entire table went dead silent. Sophia’s eyes immediately welled up with tears, and she hid behind James, looking incredibly victimized. “Amy, please don’t misunderstand. Jimmy and I are really just… *sob*…” “Shut up.” I glared at Sophia. “Save the tears. They only work on him. Don’t play your games in front of me. It makes me sick.” I grabbed my coat and went to the entryway to change my shoes. James chased after me, his voice lowered but dripping with anger. “Amy! If you walk out that door right now, don’t think you can just come back easily!” I turned around, looking at this man who had once sworn to build a home with me. I suddenly laughed. “James, I only realized today how perfect you two are for each other.” “A pathological liar and a fake actress.” “You really are a match made in heaven.” With that, I pulled the door open and walked out without looking back. I checked into a hotel nearby. As I sat in my car, my phone lit up. Sophia’s Snapchat story had been updated. It wasn’t a photo this time. It was a long block of text with a headline that pierced my eyes: [What’s the most thrilling way to sleep with a married man?] “The answer: Doing it right under his wife’s nose.”

My heart skipped a beat. A terrible feeling washed over me. “Every time I go to his house for dinner, I sit right next to him. Under the table, my leg never leaves his.” “While his wife is busy running around the kitchen, we’re practically on fire in the dining room.” “But the best part is the milk. Every time his wife throws a tantrum, he brings her a warm glass of milk to make peace.” Thinking back to the loving face and gentle words James used every time we had a cold war, I felt utterly disgusted. How could a man be this vile? Trembling, I kept reading. “His wife thinks it’s a sign of reconciliation, but in reality, there’s a double dose of sleeping pills in that milk. Once she’s completely knocked out, I slip from the study into the master bedroom, and we go at it right next to her until dawn.” “Once, I even pulled her nightgown up on purpose. He was terrified, but I told him she wouldn’t wake up. He called me a little psycho, but it only made him more turned on.” Below the post, the comments were filled with shock. Someone asked, “Did his wife never find out?” Sophia replied: [Find out? She thought that milk was his way of making up. She drank it obediently every single time.] [There was one time she didn’t drink enough, and she rolled over in the middle of the night. He literally held a pillow over her face until her breathing went back to normal. Thrilling, right?] Staring at those words, my stomach churned violently. I shoved the car door open and threw up on the pavement. It was so sickening. I had actually loved this man. That glass of milk… I had drank it for an entire year. And every time I drank it, I would sleep like a corpse. When I woke up the next morning, James would always kiss my forehead with that sweet smile of his. “Morning, babe. Did you sleep well?” I had always assumed I was just exhausted from work. Only now did I realize it was the chemical side effects of the drugs. I remembered one night when he came home late and handed me the milk. While I was in the shower, I heard him on the balcony, whispering into his phone, “She just drank it. Give it an hour before you come over.” At the time, I thought he was talking about a work project. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug deep into my palms. Since they chose to be monsters, they shouldn’t blame me for what was coming. That very night, I ordered high-tech streaming gear and hidden cameras online, and made a phone call. I waited until a time when I knew neither of them would be home, and went back to the house. I walked into the master bedroom, staring at the bed where I had slept with him less than ten times in our entire marriage. The bed he once claimed was “our sanctuary.” Now, it just made me want to vomit. I pulled the devices out of my bag: pinhole cameras, voice recorders, and two infrared night-vision lenses. I hid one behind the vase on the nightstand, pointing directly at the bed. I mounted the other inside the slit of the ceiling light cover, giving a perfect overhead view of the entire room. Once everything was set up, I lay down on the mattress and connected the feeds to my phone. On my screen, the entire master bedroom was completely visible. I saved the test footage, left the apartment, and pulled out my phone to text James. In all the days I had been gone, he hadn’t contacted me once. [I’m sorry. I was too emotional last time. I’m coming home tomorrow night. Let’s talk.] Three seconds later, my phone vibrated. James replied with three words: [Glad you understand. I have a surprise for you too.] I turned off my phone, lay down on the hotel couch, and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow night. Would be the end of those two pathetic excuses for human beings.

The next evening, I showed up at my apartment building right on time, accompanied by four people. One was Mr. Davis, my lawyer, who was recording everything. Another was an influencer I hired who specialized in live-streaming relationship drama and exposing cheaters. Along with them were a building manager and a professional locksmith, just in case we needed witnesses. The live stream was already up with the title: [Husband Drugs Wife to Have Affair: Catching Them Live]. Within three minutes of going live, fifty thousand viewers flooded the stream. I pulled out my phone to check the hidden camera feed. The bedroom lights were on, clothes were scattered all over the floor, and James and Sophia were already locked in a passionate embrace. Meanwhile, the front door lock was giving an “access denied” error. They had blocked my code. I let out a cold laugh. Of course, they wouldn’t miss a chance to lock me out while thinking I was coming home to apologize. I nodded to the locksmith. “Open it.”

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During the wedding vow segment, my fiancé’s childhood best friend suddenly walked onto the stage. She grabbed Ethan’s arm and announced she wanted to propose three toasts to me. “Chloe, the first toast is to you. Thank you for taking such good care of Ethan.” “Last winter, he carried me on his back while swimming across a freezing thousand-meter pool without even catching his breath.” “The second toast is to your absolute obedience.” “You actually drove yourself to the ER during your severe hemorrhaging and near-fatal miscarriage. Because of your independence, Ethan and I were able to enjoy our trip to Iceland and watch the Northern Lights in peace.” The banquet hall instantly erupted into thunderous applause. My mind went completely blank. My ears buzzed. I remembered being in the ICU, hovering between life and death. When the doctor called Ethan, he coldly replied that he couldn’t make it because of an urgent company emergency. It turned out his “emergency” was flying to Iceland to watch the Northern Lights with Blair. As the crowd cheered, Blair coaxed Ethan to join her in raising a glass to me. Before raising her glass, she gave me a sweet, victorious smile. “And the last toast is to your legendary generosity.” “Thanks for lending me Ethan so we could get legally married at City Hall. Because of his help, I totally won the petty war against my toxic ex-boyfriend.”

“You two… got legally married?” My voice trembled. I stared at Ethan and Blair in utter disbelief. During my five years of dating Ethan, I had proposed to him ninety-nine times. Every single time he was about to say yes, Blair would always have some convenient emergency to drag him away. Just a few weeks ago, I gathered my courage to ask him one last time. This time, he finally agreed, and we started planning the wedding. But today, on our actual wedding day, he casually let slip that he had already legally married Blair at City Hall. Then what was I? What was this wedding? I stared at Ethan, desperately waiting for an explanation. But his expression remained completely calm. He didn’t show even a flicker of guilt. The atmosphere in the room turned heavy. One of our mutual friends quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Oh, come on, Chloe, don’t be so sensitive. We’re all best friends here. It’s normal to help each other out.” “Exactly. It’s just a piece of paper from City Hall. Ethan was just doing Blair a favor as a bro. Why do you have to be so incredibly jealous and insecure?” Before they could even finish, Ethan smiled and tapped the top of Blair’s head affectionately. “Alright, keep quiet. Not even food can shut your mouth, can it?” Blair pouted and playfully punched his chest. “Please, a banana doesn’t even come close to satisfying me the way you do, Ethan. It could never keep me quiet.” The crowd gasped, followed by a burst of wild, filthy laughter. “Wow, Blair, you seem to know a lot about his size! Have you been testing it out? Want to try mine next?” “Me too! I guarantee you’ll be satisfied!” “Get lost, guys! Ethan and I grew up together. Back when his hormones were raging, I was the one who helped him release his tension. None of you can even compare.” The moment those words left her mouth, the noisy room fell dead silent. My brain completely short-circuited. Seeing my shocked face, Blair laughed it off, completely unfazed. “Oh, Chloe, speaking of which, you should actually thank me.” “If I hadn’t trained Ethan’s skills in bed so well, how else would you get to enjoy such amazing service?” Blood rushed to my head in a blinding fury. I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed a glass of champagne and hurled it straight at Blair’s face. Before she could even scream, Ethan reacted instantly, pulling her protectively into his arms. “Chloe! Are you out of your mind?! What is wrong with your psycho temper?!” I stared at the red splashes of alcohol on the back of Ethan’s hand, my nails digging deep into my palms. “Does being childhood besties give you a free pass to sleep together?” I let out a cold, mocking laugh. “If you two are so desperate for each other, why didn’t you just get married for real? You’re both disgusting. A cheap slut and a trashy cheater.” Ethan’s face twisted in rage. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. “That is enough, Chloe! When did you become so venomous and disgusting?!” “Apologize to Blair right now!” Blair snuggled deeper into Ethan’s chest, looking up at me with a triumphant, mocking smirk. Tears fell uncontrollably. Suddenly, I felt a profound sense of exhaustion. It all felt so utterly meaningless. I turned around to leave. But Ethan grabbed my wrist tightly. “You insulted Blair in front of everyone. You hurt her. Apologize to her right now.” “If you don’t apologize, this wedding is officially canceled.”

Ethan’s face was filled with his usual arrogance. He looked down at me from his height. He was waiting. Waiting for me to bow my head and apologize, just like I had done for the last ninety-nine times. “Chloe, you better think carefully. Aside from me, who else would ever want to marry you?” The man standing in front of me felt like a complete stranger. I could no longer connect him to the sweet, brave boy who swore he loved me eight years ago. In high school, when I was being brutally bullied, Ethan had taken a beating just to pull me out of the hands of those monsters. He told me he fell in love with me at first sight and promised to protect me for the rest of his life. When I was eighteen, my parents died in a sudden car crash, leaving behind a mountain of debt. Ethan worked multiple part-time jobs to help me pay it off and put me through college. He worked so hard he was hospitalized with a bleeding ulcer, but he never let me suffer. When I was twenty, I was kidnapped and assaulted by his business rival. After I was rescued, he knelt by my hospital bed, crying, and swore he would love me forever. But everything changed the moment Blair came back into his life. Every sentence he spoke to me eventually drifted back to Blair. The more he mentioned her, the less he came home. He started keeping his distance. He grew annoyed with me. He stood by and watched as others publicly humiliated me. The cold winter wind drifted through the open window, chilling me to the bone. The warm memories of the past finally froze over, and the illusion of the sweet boy from my youth shattered. I looked straight into Ethan’s eyes and spoke clearly, word for word: “Then let’s cancel it. I hope you two rot together forever.” As I turned to walk away, a flicker of panic flashed in Ethan’s eyes. His voice lost its composure and became frantic. “Chloe, stop right there!” “You were assaulted before! No decent man will ever marry you except me!” Whispers instantly erupted in the crowd. “Oh my god, Chloe was assaulted?” “Look at how provocatively she dresses. Who knows what really happened back then?” “Seriously. A woman with that kind of baggage should be grateful Ethan even wanted her. Why is she throwing a tantrum?” “Honestly, Ethan is better off with Blair. At least Blair is clean.” The pointing fingers and disgusting whispers felt like needles piercing my chest. “Ethan, you absolute bastard!” “You don’t know anything!” I spun around, my hand flying out to slap Ethan across the face with everything I had left. The room fell into a dead silence. Blair immediately stepped in front of Ethan, wrapping her arm around his shoulder and pressing him against her chest. “Chloe, you are literally insane. Ethan and I are just friends. Is it really necessary to throw such a massive fit?” “Everyone else thinks it’s fine. You’re the only one making a scene!” The guests looked at me with even more disgust and contempt. The murmurs grew louder. Ethan kept his head stiff, refusing to look at me. Something inside my chest shattered completely. Blair’s smirks, the crowd’s mockery, Ethan’s cold silence… All the years of silent suffering felt like a physical blow to my face. “Ethan, I have tolerated you two for so damn long. You use the excuse of being ‘childhood friends’ to do the most disgusting things.” “Every time we were supposed to get our marriage license, Blair miraculously fell ill, and you ran to her like a loyal dog.” “When I was in the ICU fighting for my life after a near-fatal miscarriage, you were chasing the Northern Lights with her.” “You even went and legally married her behind my back! Today, you bring her here to humiliate me and reopen my deepest wounds. Have you forgotten that I was only targeted and assaulted because of you?!” “Or did you honestly believe I was so pathetic that I could never live without you?” I was hyperventilating, my face soaked with tears. Through my blurry vision, I saw Ethan reach his hand out toward me. But the waves of whispers from the crowd felt like they were going to drown me alive. I couldn’t take the suffocating pain anymore. Like a coward, I turned and ran.

Before the heavy doors slammed shut behind me, I heard Blair’s mocking, playful voice. “Wow, Ethan, you’re such a loyal friend. Giving up your bride for your bestie.” “But hey, if you want to run after her, we won’t judge you too hard.” Then came Ethan’s arrogant, confident voice: “She has nowhere else to go. No one else will ever want her.” They actually made a five-million-dollar bet. Ethan bet that within three days, I would crawl back to him on my knees, begging for his forgiveness. At that moment, my heart turned to ash. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in years. It didn’t even ring for three seconds before the call was picked up. “I’m hosting a wedding in three days,” I said, my voice hollow. “I need a groom.” The voice on the other end didn’t hesitate for a single second. “I’ll see you in three days.” Just then, my phone buzzed with a Snapchat message from my Nana, who was resting at home. “My sweet Chloe, is the wedding over? I cooked your favorite food at home. I’m waiting for you and Ethan to come back.” I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, not daring to tell her the truth. I forced my voice to sound cheerful as I sent a voice note back: “I got it, Nana! I’m on my way back to see you right now. Ethan has a business dinner tonight, so he won’t be joining us!” Before getting into the cab, I couldn’t help but look back at Ethan’s mansion one last time. Ethan and Blair were surrounded by a cheering crowd. Under the pressure of their friends’ teasing, Ethan’s ears turned red. My cheek still burned from the slap. Tears, once dry, filled my eyes again. I covered my face, refusing to let anyone see how pathetic I looked. … I didn’t even remember how I made it home. By the time I snapped out of it, I had practically ruined the food on my plate by poking at it endlessly. Seeing my red eyes, Nana quickly put down her fork and pulled me into her warm embrace. She asked softly, “My sweet girl, tell Nana. Did that boy Ethan hurt you again?” Looking into Nana’s loving, worried eyes, I finally broke down and sobbed. “Nana… let’s pack up and move away from this city, okay?” I didn’t get an answer for a long time. When I looked up in confusion, a warm tear from Nana fell onto my cheek. “Okay, my darling. Nana promises you. Wherever you go, Nana will go with you to take care of you.” “If this marriage doesn’t make you happy, we won’t do it. Nana only wants you to be happy.” I buried my face in her chest and cried my heart out, letting go of years of accumulated pain. The next morning, as I was packing our suitcases, my Instagram app buzzed with a notification. It was a post from Blair. She was wearing a matching ski suit, snuggling closely into Ethan’s chest. They looked exactly like a deeply in love couple. The caption read: “Skiing with my favorite human.” My hands froze. A little plush snowman keychain fell out of my coat pocket. Ethan had given it to me, promising to take me skiing once he was less busy with work because I had never seen real snow. But I never got that trip. It turned out he wasn’t busy. He just chose to spend his time on someone else. I let out a bitter laugh and threw the keychain straight into the trash can. Suddenly, a loud scream came from Nana’s room. I burst through the door. Nana was collapsed on the floor, gasping for air in extreme pain. Her phone lay cracked on the ground, and Ethan’s loud, harsh voice was still playing through the speaker: “…she was assaulted!” “Chloe… is it true?” Nana wheezed, her eyes filled with tears of pure agony. “When did you suffer so much…?” “It’s my fault… Nana failed to protect you…” Nana clutched her chest, her face turning pale and blue. My medical instincts kicked in instantly. Nana was having a massive heart attack!

I rushed Nana to the hospital. But the moment we arrived, I was told that every single available cardiologist had been called away by Ethan to treat Blair’s injuries! I ran frantically toward the VIP clinic. “Ethan! Ethan! I beg you, please let one doctor go to save my Nana!” “She always treated you like her own grandson! She even gave you her entire retirement fund to start your company! Please, let them save her!” The next second, Blair walked out of the clinic, clinging to Ethan’s arm. She was dramatically clutching her chest, whimpering in a high-pitched, pathetic voice about how much it hurt. But I could clearly see she only had a tiny, negligible scratch on her elbow! Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but Blair yanked his arm. “Ethan, my chest hurts so much.” “She slapped you so hard yesterday. She’s probably just making up a lie to force you to back down.” Ethan’s eyes instantly turned from slight worry to freezing cold. “Chloe, I can’t believe you would actually use your own grandmother’s life to play these cheap games.” “I’d love to see if she actually dies if I unplug her ventilator myself.”

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On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally saw my boyfriend’s Wish social feed. My replica Valentino wedding shoes cost him $29.90. His own designer sneakers cost over three hundred dollars. Scrolling down further, I realized that every single anniversary gift he had ever given me was a cheap knockoff. Even the Tiffany wedding jewelry set he gave me was fake. After freezing in silence for a moment, I went online and ordered a realistic blow-up doll. Since you love fakes so much, Austin, I’m going to give you a fake bride at our wedding. I was getting my wedding nails done when the nail tech pleaded, “Hey girl, could you please download Wish and help me slash a price? I’ll throw in two extra rhinestones for your nails for free, okay?” I was a regular customer and loved her aesthetic, so I couldn’t really say no. But after registering and opening the app, the smile on my face froze. Just three minutes ago, my boyfriend had successfully placed an order for a pair of replica Valentino wedding shoes. After using a coupon, the final price he paid was $29.90. I stared at the screen, thinking his account must have been hacked. But a second later, Austin sent me a message: “Babe, I just bought those wedding shoes you wanted! They were so expensive—cost me two months of my salary. But hey, making you happy is what matters most!” The picture he attached was identical to the shoes on the Wish order. Except the ones I had looked at were the real deal. The ones he bought were cheap knockoffs. As I scrolled further down his Wish feed, my heart sank lower and lower. Everything he bought for himself came from official flagship stores, while every gift he bought for me was a piece of junk under ten dollars. Even the Tiffany wedding jewelry set he got me was fake. No wonder he looked so uncomfortable and made excuses when I suggested we go to the physical store to pick them out. He had insisted his mother had already prepared them. It turned out they had just ordered them from Wish. By that time, the fake jewelry was probably already sitting in the Amazon delivery locker down the street. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, opened our chat, and typed a quick reply. “Thanks, babe! I also bought you that Rolex Submariner you’ve been eyeing.”

The nail tech looked at me with a complicated expression. “Girl, please don’t think I’m nosy, but spending too much money on a guy never ends well.” I tapped the payment confirmation screen on my phone. A replica watch that cost only fifty bucks. That “Rolex” was probably more of a “Folex.” When I got home, Austin rushed over and pulled me into his arms. “Babe! When is my watch arriving?” “Don’t worry, it’ll be here next week. You’ll definitely have it before the wedding. You can show it off to all your friends!” My words stroked his ego, and his smile widened. I seized the opportunity to make my move. “I bought you such an expensive watch, but I still don’t have a wedding purse. Why don’t we go shopping this weekend?” Austin froze instantly. He stammered, “Why don’t… why don’t I just order one for you online?” I pretended to be annoyed. “Online shipping takes forever, and if it doesn’t match my dress, returning it will be a huge pain!” He gritted his teeth. “Fine. Let’s hit the mall this weekend.” On Saturday, Austin acted incredibly hesitant. Every time I tried on a purse that was slightly expensive, he began pointing out flaws. “Babe, you’re not that tall. This bag is too big, it makes you look even shorter.” “This one isn’t great either. The gold chain looks like it’ll fade easily. It looks cheap.” “No, not this one. It doesn’t match your style at all.” Then, he picked up the cheapest red canvas tote bag in the store and shoved it into my hands. “This is perfect! The color is great, the style is simple, and it holds a lot of stuff!”

Even the sales associate was stunned. She gently reminded Austin that we were shopping for a wedding purse. Austin scoffed, “Who says you can’t carry a canvas bag to a wedding?” The associate smiled awkwardly and nodded. I shook my head. “I don’t like it.” Austin pulled me aside and whispered all the reasons why the canvas bag was practical. I brushed his hand off. “Austin, you’re being really cheap. I spent thousands on your Rolex, and I even ordered that expensive RTX graphics card you wanted. And you’re trying to write me off with a canvas bag?” Hearing that I had ordered the graphics card he had been drooling over for months, he immediately waved his hand. “Buy it! We’ll get whatever you want, babe!” Perfect. It was time for him to cough up all the money he had saved by cheaping out on me over the years. By the time I picked out three of the most expensive designer bags, Austin’s face had turned pale. He made an excuse to use the restroom and slipped away. I quietly followed him. Through the heavy restroom door, I heard him on the phone with his friends. “Chloe doesn’t know shit about luxury brands. With her background, when has she ever touched high-end stuff? A few cheap knockoffs are enough to keep her happy.” “I only give people what they deserve. If it were Hailey, of course I’d buy her the absolute best.” “Anyway, once my Rolex gets here, you guys can take turns wearing it!” Leaning against the cold marble wall, my heart felt completely frozen. The coldness pierced through me, but it also made me see him clearly for the first time. Hailey was his college ex, his “white moonlight.” She had moved abroad after graduation. All these years, he had never gotten over her. Yet he was still playing the role of the generous, caring boyfriend with me. It was absolutely disgusting.

After Austin came out of the restroom, I picked out a gold bracelet. He paid for it with a pained expression. A minute later, his phone alarm went off, and he quickly made an excuse to run, terrified I would drag another dime out of his wallet. The moment he left, I took all the items we had just purchased back to the counter and returned them. Watching the $15,000 refund hit my bank account, I smiled. Austin, this is just the beginning. The day before the wedding, the realistic blow-up doll I ordered arrived. I dressed “her” up in a wedding gown and put those $29.90 fake Valentino shoes on her feet. Once everything was ready, I turned off my morning alarm and went to sleep. The next day, I woke up near noon. My phone was blowing up with dozens of missed calls and frantic text messages from Austin. “What is wrong with you, Chloe? Why aren’t you at your apartment for the bridal party pickup?” “Our wedding is today! Where the hell are you?” “Why did you cancel the makeup artist, the photographer, and the videographer last night?” “Are you trying to embarrass me? Get your ass to the venue in thirty minutes, or the wedding is off!” Thirty minutes? I didn’t even need that long. Because I was already staying in a suite right above the banquet hall. I had canceled the wedding planning team because when it was time to pay them, Austin had pretended to have a stomachache and made me pay the deposit. Later, he had said, “Oh, babe, why are you making such a big deal out of this? The makeup, the photos, they’re all for you. It’s to give you face.” Well, I didn’t care about “face.” The only person who cared about “face” was Austin—a selfish, superficial prick who loved to show off. I carried the dressed-up doll down the elevator. The moment I pushed open the doors to the banquet hall, I was met with complete chaos. Austin’s relatives were gossiping in groups. Austin was holding the bouquet, standing near the stage, desperately dialing my number. When my ringtone echoed from the entrance, his eyes lit up. He ran over and grabbed my arm. “Chloe, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you holding?!”

I smiled. “It’s a gift for you.” He pursed his lips, putting on a generous act. “I forgive you for this morning. Now go change quickly. All our friends and family are here, don’t embarrass me. I’ll have Uncle David host the ceremony for us.” I nodded. In the dressing room, I asked two venue staff members for help. “When they announce the bride’s entrance, please place this doll right at the doorway.” Since I was from out of town, only Austin’s family and friends were at the venue. The ceremony began. “Please welcome our beautiful bride!” the MC announced. The spotlight hit the entrance. Everyone turned to look. The doors swung open, revealing a plastic doll in a wedding dress. The crowd gasped. Austin rushed down the aisle, furious. “Chloe, are you fucking crazy?!” I smiled at him. “Are you mad? The doll is wearing the shoes you bought me. What’s the problem?” He froze, nervously rubbing his nose. I pushed him aside, carried the doll onto the stage, and grabbed the microphone. “These are the wedding shoes Austin bought me. They’re fake. This is the jewelry his family gave me. It’s fake. This is my birthday gift from him. Fake…” The guests immediately erupted into whispers. The venue was buzzing. Uncle David tried to salvage the situation. “Hey now, replica goods don’t mean he doesn’t love you. You can’t measure love with money.” I turned to look at him. “Oh, I almost forgot. David, remember that designer lipstick Austin gifted your daughter last month? It was a cheap replica. She ended up in the hospital with severe lip inflammation, didn’t she? Must have been awful.” Uncle David’s face turned red with anger. He threw down his microphone and started cursing Austin out! Aunt Susan couldn’t watch any longer and stepped in. “Austin was probably scammed! There are so many scammers online. How is a man supposed to know about these makeup and luxury brands?” I walked up to her. “Susan, remember when your electric hand warmer short-circuited and burned your hand? Did you ever suspect it was the cheap knockoff your dear nephew got you?” Susan froze, staring at Austin in utter shock. Austin completely panicked, babbling excuses. “I didn’t know! I don’t know anything about this! How was I supposed to know they were fake…” Suddenly, the guests began to recall the various gifts they had received from Austin over the years. Most of them had some kind of issue. The relatives surrounded Austin, yelling and cursing at him. Look at that. Just moments ago, they were telling me to be understanding. Now that they realized they were the victims, they yelled louder than anyone else! After the wedding was ruined, Austin’s reputation among his family was completely trashed. His mother was so embarrassed she couldn’t lift her head, having to apologize door-to-door. That night, a reeking-of-alcohol Austin banged on my apartment door. “Chloe, I only did it to save money! I did it for our future. I didn’t mean to lie to you.” I nodded. “I get it. You saved money on me so you could buy real designer things for yourself. You saw me as an easy, small-town girl with a single mom, so you thought you could treat me like garbage, right?” He shook his head, squeezing out a few tears. “No, that’s not true. You deserve the best in the world. I just… I didn’t have that much money, and I didn’t want you to feel left out when other girls had luxury goods. It was just a stupid mistake.” How pathetic. I slapped him across the face. “Cut the crap, Austin. We’ve been together for three years. Have I ever been greedy? Have I ever asked you for a single expensive gift? You’re right, I grew up in a small town, so I couldn’t tell your fake gifts apart. But because I thought you gave me expensive things, I saved up every penny to buy you gifts of equal value. I didn’t want to owe you anything. Now it turns out you’re the one who owes me. Get the hell out of my sight.” Panicking, Austin grabbed my leg and started crying about our past memories. I kicked him away. He looked up at me miserably. “Chloe, I’m sorry.” “Fine, we can break up. But can you at least give me the Rolex you bought me?”

I was absolutely speechless. I turned around, grabbed the package, and threw it at him. “Take your trash and get out.” Austin picked up the box like it was a sacred treasure. “Be careful! My precious watch.” The moment he left, my phone buzzed with a text from him: “Chloe, did you really think a small-town girl like you deserved a guy like me? I have a house, a car, a good degree, and a solid job. Have you ever wondered why I chose you in the first place?” I replied: “Keep dreaming. I wasted three years on a dog. But the apartment your family bought? I paid for the entire renovation. Transfer my money back to me right now!” “You chose to pay for that renovation. Why should I pay you back? Go ahead and sue me if you want. A cheap girl like you trying to act high and mighty. You don’t deserve nice things.” I didn’t reply. Winning a text argument wasn’t going to get my money back. I needed to figure out how to minimize my financial losses. The next day, I saw Austin’s selfie on Ins. The caption read: *Happily Single.* It was a very pretentious photo. His hand was resting on his steering wheel, clearly showing off the car logo and his new “Rolex.” The comment section was filled with envious compliments. As luck would have it, our college class president, Marcus, was organizing a reunion in the group chat. Austin was the first to RSVP. After graduation, thanks to his family’s connections, Austin had secured a manager position at an import-export company. He would never miss an opportunity to show off. Since he was going, I was going too. And I was going to bring a few things with me! On the day of the reunion, I gathered all the fake luxury goods Austin had bought me over the years. I wore the fake clothes, put on the fake jewelry, and carried the fake bag. He wanted “face,” right? I was going to make sure he was utterly humiliated in front of everyone! I was going to rip away his final piece of dignity.

“Chloe, you’re here! Long time no see!” I smiled and greeted my old classmates. Everyone knew Austin and I had broken up, so they didn’t seat us together. Halfway through the dinner, someone started gossiping. “Chloe, back in college, didn’t you say you wouldn’t marry anyone but Austin? Why did you guys suddenly break up?” I chuckled. “I was blind back then. My eyes are wide open now.” Austin sat diagonally across from me, rolling his eyes. Hearing that Marcus was now a senior director at a big firm, Austin eagerly stood up to pour him a drink. “Wow, Austin, that’s a nice watch,” Marcus noted. Everyone’s attention was instantly drawn to his wrist. The table began whispering, wondering if Austin had struck it rich. He smirked. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just had a streak of good luck and closed a few major international deals this year.” International deals? He really loved making things up. “You’re amazing, man. That watch must be at least twenty grand. You’re doing better than me now,” Marcus said. But then, Marcus frowned, squinting closely at the watch. “Wait, Austin… The polishing and the color of the dial look a bit off compared to the authentic Submariner.” The moment he said that, a few others leaned in to look. Austin panicked for a split second. He glanced at me, but I kept my face blank. I knew what he was betting on. He was betting that because I loved him so much, I wouldn’t have bought him a fake. During the discussion, a wealthy classmate named Brandon smirked. “Austin, why are you wearing a fake Rolex to show off? We’re all old friends here. Is your ego really that fragile?” Austin snapped, “Bullshit! How could this watch be fake? Just because your family has some money doesn’t mean you can look down on everyone else!” Brandon wasn’t about to take that. He slammed his forks down. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? I had three Rolexes in middle school. Even my driver wears one of these. You think I can’t spot a fake? Look at your background. You think you’re on my level?” The moment he said that, the other classmates began to snicker. The dining room filled with hushed laughter. Austin stood frozen, red-faced, unable to find his tongue. Then, someone suddenly started a FaceTime call. “Hey Hailey! Austin wore a fake Rolex to the reunion. It’s hilarious!”

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When he woke up from the car crash, Julian looked at me with total confusion. “Who are you? Where is my fiancée, Seraphina?” Seraphina was the one that got away—the perfect girl of his dreams. And I was the wife who had spent seven years helping him build his empire from scratch, the one who had just signed a marriage license with him three days ago. The doctor pulled me out of the room, looking uncomfortable. “Mr. Sterling’s brain CT is completely normal. He hasn’t lost his memory.” Through the crack in the door, I saw Julian smoothly unlock his phone and send a Snapchat to Seraphina: [Seraphina, I can finally marry you openly now. The entire Sterling Group is my wedding gift to you.] I didn’t go in to expose his pathetic acting. Instead, I tossed my wedding ring into the trash can and called my lawyer. “Sell all my shares immediately, and completely revoke Sterling Group’s access to our core technology.” Julian had no idea that the multi-billion-dollar empire he was so proud of was entirely built on my cards. Since he wanted to play amnesia and reset his life to when he was eighteen… Then I would happily oblige. I’d make sure he truly became the penniless nobody he used to be.

“Ms. Vance, we can execute the sale of your shares immediately, but there’s a catch,” my lawyer, Arthur Pendelton, said over the phone. His voice was calm. “In the documents you signed three days ago, there was a spousal lock-up clause. As long as you remain married, any unilateral transfer of your thirty-four percent stake requires your husband’s signature.” Three days ago. The day we got married. When we walked out of the courthouse, Julian held my hand, smiled, and handed me a stack of papers, saying they were for a joint bank account. I signed them. Seven years of absolute trust meant I didn’t even read a single line. “Then start the divorce proceedings first to break the lock-up.” “He’s currently claiming amnesia. The hospital can’t issue a mental capacity evaluation yet. If the court buys his amnesia act, the lawsuit could drag on for over six months.” Using marriage to lock my shares, and amnesia to stall the divorce. It was a perfect trap. I hung up and walked down the hallway toward the elevator. The hospital room door wasn’t fully closed. Seraphina’s sweet, giggling voice drifted out. “Julian, I made some organic bone broth for you. Let me feed you—” “Seraphina, come sit closer to me.” Julian’s voice was sickeningly gentle. In the seven years we’d been together, the sweetest he’d ever sounded was on the night the company went public. He got drunk and mumbled “Clara” just once. Only once. By the door, his assistant, Carter Hayes, saw me. He quickly put his phone away and stood up straight. “Mrs… Ms. Vance, are you leaving?” The title had changed. From “Mrs. Sterling” to “Ms. Vance,” it only took an afternoon. “When did he start planning this?” I asked. Carter didn’t answer. His eyes darted to the corner of the wall. “The lock-up agreement on our wedding day—you prepared it for him, didn’t you?” Carter’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Mr. Sterling asked me to prepare the files. I was just doing my…” “When did Seraphina get to the hospital?” “…” “Her Snapchat Story was posted twenty minutes before Julian even woke up. The location tag is this exact building.” I thrust my phone in front of his face. The photo was taken from inside the hospital room. A thermos, a half-peeled apple, and Julian’s side profile. The caption read: [Watching over you.] There were over thirty comments underneath, all offering congratulations. The pinned reply was from Julian’s account, timestamped three hours ago—when he was still on the operating table. A scheduled post. Carter’s face went pale. I put my phone away and didn’t press further. I turned, walked to the elevator, and pressed the button for the lobby. Just as the doors were about to slide shut, a hand blocked them from the outside. Seraphina. She was holding an empty thermos. Seeing me, she looked taken aback, then her eyes instantly pooled with tears. “Oh, you’re still here?” Her tone carried a perfect touch of confusion, like a polite host asking an unwelcome guest to leave. “Clara, I don’t want to be rude, but Julian really doesn’t remember you. Your presence is only going to stress him out.” I didn’t reply. My eyes fell on her wrist. That watch. Platinum strap, sapphire dial. I had ordered it from Geneva last month, and it hadn’t even officially hit the domestic market yet. “The watch on your wrist is mine.” Seraphina looked down, her smile unfaltering. “Julian gave it to me. He said it was a souvenir from Switzerland. You must have mistaken it.” “The invoice and custom order number are in my email. It’s a custom piece with a unique global serial number.” Seraphina’s eyelashes fluttered. But she quickly sighed, reaching out to gently squeeze my wrist. Her fingers were cold. “Clara, I understand how you feel. It’s devastating to be forgotten by the man you love.” “But clinging to a watch like this… it just makes you look so…” She didn’t say the word “pathetic,” but her face said it all. A nurse wheeled a cart past us in the hallway, glancing over with sympathy. The sympathy was for Seraphina. Not me. The elevator reached the ground floor. The doors slid open. I pulled my hand from her grip and walked out. I paused after two steps. “Tell Julian that the biometric key for the core system refreshes every seventy-two hours. The last refresh was three days ago.” Silence fell behind me. Seraphina’s soft, pitying voice chased after me. “Clara, I don’t really understand all that tech jargon.” “That’s fine. He does.”

“Verification failed. Please contact the administrator.” The smart lock on my front door repeated the same cold message. My fingerprint and iris scan had been deleted. I designed this smart home system. Every single line of code, from the base protocol to the voice interaction module, was written by me. I entered the administrator bypass code. The lock clicked open. The living room was bathed in a warm yellow glow. There were two new pink cushions on the couch, and a vase of lilies sat on the coffee table. Next to the shoe rack lay a pair of white stiletto sandals—size five, Seraphina’s size. All of my shoes had been packed into a cardboard box by the door. I opened the walk-in closet. The entire left side was filled with Seraphina’s dresses. Trench coats with tags still attached, neatly folded silk pajamas. At the very back hung a men’s dress shirt with lipstick on the collar. My clothes had been stuffed into two black trash bags and thrown into the corner. This wasn’t something that could be done overnight. I opened the local log of the smart home system—a layer ordinary users couldn’t access, restricted only to administrators. The security camera logs started from two months ago. Seraphina had walked into this house with her suitcase. Julian carried it to the master bedroom for her. They stood in front of the hallway mirror, and she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw. Two months ago. I was in California coordinating a mass production plan with a chip manufacturer. Julian had called me, complaining about how lonely the house felt and begging me to come home early. I scrolled to the logs from a week ago. In the living room, Julian stood in front of the full-length mirror, repeating the same line over and over. “Who are you? Where is my fiancée, Seraphina?” The first time was too stiff. The second time, his eyes weren’t vacant enough. By the third time, he finally perfected it—the slightly dilated pupils, the parted lips, a carefully crafted look of innocent bewilderment. Seraphina sat on the couch behind him, grading him. “Seven out of ten. Make it blanker. Look right through her, like you’re looking at something else.” Julian practiced twice more. Seraphina clapped. “Perfect score.” My phone buzzed. A group chat notification. It wasn’t one of the chats I had been kicked out of—it was a group I didn’t even know existed, named “Julian & Seraphina’s Wedding Planning.” Created four months ago. Carter had sent me the screenshot without a single word of explanation. The group included Sterling Group executives, Seraphina’s bridesmaids, and two wedding planning teams. The latest message was from 3:00 PM today. “The amnesia act is done. Seraphina is officially taking over. Everyone, get ready for the next steps.” “What about Clara?” “Doesn’t matter. She can’t do anything anyway.” The person who sent that message was Julian himself. My phone buzzed again. Caller ID: Mrs. Sterling. “Clara, do you have any idea Julian was in a car crash?” “I do.” “Then why aren’t you at the hospital taking care of him? Seraphina told me you had a horrible attitude—” “Mrs. Sterling, he’s faking the amnesia. His brain CT is completely normal.” Silence on the other end for three seconds. “It takes two to tango, Clara. If Julian were happy with you, would he have to resort to this?” “You’ve been married to him for seven years and haven’t even given him a child. Seraphina has been loyal to Julian for so long, working tirelessly without complaint. What right do you have to be so picky?” “My seven years—” “I don’t understand your patents and tech stuff. But Julian said those are company resources anyway. Clara, let me give you some advice: take what you can get and leave. Don’t make a scene. It won’t end well for anyone.” She hung up. I leaned against the closet doorframe. In front of me were Seraphina’s dresses; behind me were trash bags filled with my clothes. The system chimed softly. “Hello, Administrator. A new live-stream forwarding address has been detected on the master bedroom camera. Would you like to terminate it?” Seraphina was using my own system to spy on my every move. “Terminate forwarding. Clear all external authorizations.” “Executed.” I grabbed the two trash bags and walked out of the house I had lived in for five years. The door locked automatically behind me, and the system gave one final broadcast. “Goodbye, Administrator.”

“Clara Vance? I have a patent ownership dispute notice from the legal department of Sterling Group. Please sign here.” At the door of my lab, a courier handed me a manila envelope. Inside was a stack of cease-and-desist letters. The wording was polite, but the intent was vicious. Sterling Group claimed that all thirty-seven core patents under my name were developed using company resources and platforms. They wanted them classified as “work-for-hire” and transferred to the company. Attached was a court notice. They had already filed for a temporary injunction to freeze my rights to transfer or sell these patents. My lab was on the top floor of an old office building on the west side of the city. After Sterling Group moved to the flashy downtown tech district, no one came here anymore. But today, the security logs showed that someone had bypassed the smart lock physically at 2:00 AM. They had tried to be careful, but they weren’t careful enough. The server rack had been opened, and there were scratches on the drive bays from hard drives being pulled out. Too bad for them, my encryption protocol wasn’t some commercial package. I wrote it myself. Without my biometric key, even if they stole the physical drives, all they would see was gibberish. They got absolutely nothing. But this was no longer just about stealing patents. This was war. My phone rang. Seraphina. “Clara, it’s me.” Her voice was still soft, slow, and overly sweet. “Julian wanted me to reach out. He doesn’t want to make this ugly.” “You received the legal notice, right? Julian says it’s just standard procedure. If you cooperate and voluntarily transfer the patent ownership to the company, he’s willing to offer you a settlement. Five million dollars.” A technology foundation worth thirteen billion dollars, and she was offering five million. “Those chip architectures and base algorithms were projects I started back during my PhD. I had the first working prototype running five years before Sterling Group was even founded.” Seraphina paused for a moment. “But Clara, Julian said that back when you held those technologies, no one would invest a single dime. He was the one who brought his team to take them out of the lab and into the market. Without his business genius, your code would just be a pile of useless trash.” “Did he actually say that?” “He said you’re just a coder.” Seraphina probably didn’t realize the weight of those words. Or maybe she did, which is why she said them. “Tell him he can take his five million dollars and shove it.” “Then what do you want?” “What I want isn’t money.” Seraphina was quiet for a few seconds. When she spoke again, her voice had a sharp edge I hadn’t heard before. “Clara, let me be real with you. The court is going to award those patents to the company sooner or later. Take the five million and walk away with your dignity. If you get kicked out by the court, you won’t even get a dime.” “You know Julian. When he wants something, he always gets it.” She hung up. I sat in my lab’s swivel chair, the monitor glowing in front of me. I compiled the logs of the break-in into a security file. It included the physical lock-tampering data, the fingerprint dust left on the server rack, and the login timestamps from Sterling Group’s IT VPN—which matched the break-in down to the second. He had sent his own tech team to rob me. But what truly sealed his fate was another document Arthur sent over. Julian’s car accident. The police report showed he rear-ended another car while driving at only twenty-five miles per hour. The airbags deployed normally, and he only suffered minor scrapes and a mild concussion. Yet, the insurance claim had been submitted two days before the accident. The policyholder was Seraphina. The beneficiary was Julian. The crash was a setup from the very beginning. He needed a hospital stay to act out his amnesia, and he needed medical records to back up his story. Meanwhile, Seraphina had bought the insurance policy beforehand, making sure not to lose a single penny. Arthur had added a note at the bottom of the file: “The patent registration company under your name is ‘Vance Technologies,’ which was incorporated before Sterling Group. Section 11 of the Technology Licensing Agreement states: If the marriage or cohabitation relationship between Party A and the legal representative of Party B is dissolved, all licensing authorizations terminate automatically, and licensed technologies cannot be reverse-engineered or retained.” He added: “Ms. Vance, you wrote this clause yourself seven years ago.” Yes, I did. Seven years ago, when I licensed my technology to Julian, I prepared for the worst-case scenario. I just never expected that the worst-case scenario would actually happen. A new message popped up on my screen. It was from Carter on WhatsApp. “Ms. Vance, there is an emergency board meeting tomorrow at 10:00 AM. Julian demands your presence.” I stared at the word “demands” and shut off the screen. “Arthur, I need you at the board meeting tomorrow.” “What files should I bring?” “Bring video recording equipment.”

“I believe everyone here already knows her. This is Seraphina Finch.” Julian sat at the head of the conference table, looking sharp in his designer suit, his arm draped casually over the back of Seraphina’s chair. Thirteen board members sat around the table, their eyes darting back and forth between Seraphina and me. He wasn’t acting like he had amnesia anymore. At this table, he didn’t need to. “We have only one agenda item for today’s emergency meeting—the ownership of the thirty-seven patents under Clara Vance’s name.” He opened the folder in front of him, and the projector lit up. “These patents cover Sterling Group’s chip architecture, AI scheduling algorithms, and full-chain control protocols. While currently registered under Clara’s individual name, they were developed using a massive amount of company resources, including our servers, testing equipment, and engineering teams.” “Our legal team has already filed a lawsuit regarding the ownership. Today, I ask the board to vote on suspending Clara from all duties at Sterling Group and freezing her technical access during the litigation.” Seraphina flipped open her notebook, looking as poised and comfortable as if she had sat at this table a hundred times. In fact, she was sitting in my old seat. I sat at the very end of the long table. “Clara, do you have anything to say?” An unfamiliar board member in wire-rimmed glasses spoke up. “My patent holding company, Vance Technologies, was incorporated eight years ago. One year before Sterling Group. All development logs, experimental data, and published papers predate the creation of Sterling Group. As for the so-called company resources—” “For the past seven years, you have been using Sterling Group’s servers and equipment for iteration and development,” Julian interrupted, his voice flat. “Your employment contract clearly states that any technological achievements produced during your employment belong to the company.” “That contract applies only to newly developed projects. All thirty-seven core patents were fully registered before I joined—” “That’s enough.” Another board member waved his hand dismissively. “We aren’t judges here. Let the court decide the ownership. Today, we are only voting on one thing: whether to suspend Clara’s management access during the lawsuit. All in favor, raise your hands.” Out of thirteen hands, eleven shot up. Seraphina didn’t have voting rights, but she turned her head slightly to look at me, a tiny smirk playing on her lips. It was a subtle, mocking look, as if saying—*See? You can’t even protect this.* After the meeting adjourned, the crowd dispersed. I stood by the elevator, waiting. Footsteps sounded behind me. Julian walked up and stood right next to me. The projector lights were off, and the hallway was lit only by the cold, sterile glow of the emergency lights. With no one around, his polite, gentlemanly mask slipped off. “Don’t blame me.” He didn’t look at me, keeping his eyes on our blurry reflections on the metallic elevator doors. “You hold too much power, Clara. Seven years ago, when you had nothing, I was the one who gave you a platform to shine.” “You gave me?” I turned to face him. “Seven years ago, when I found you, you were running code on a second-hand laptop in a cramped basement apartment in the suburbs. You couldn’t even afford to pay for domain registration.” “I was the one who gave you the full technology license to Vance Technologies. That was the only reason you could take those slides and land your first round of funding.” Julian’s lips curled into a faint sneer. “So what? Without my business strategies, your code would still be gathering dust in a lab. At the end of the day, you’re just a technical worker.” The elevator arrived. The doors opened, then closed. I didn’t step in. “Julian, you just declared in front of thirteen board members that we have absolutely no relationship.” “So what?” “The spousal lock-up clause only applies during a valid marriage. You denied knowing me in front of thirteen witnesses. Once this recording is presented in court, the judge will rule that you have voluntarily waived your spousal claims.” Julian’s expression froze. “Since the lock-up clause is invalid, my thirty-four percent stake can be traded freely starting tomorrow morning.” “You—” “And one more thing.” I pulled my phone from my bag and opened the admin dashboard for Vance Technologies. “Section 11 of the Technology Licensing Agreement. When the marriage or cohabitation relationship between the parties is dissolved, all licensing authorizations terminate automatically. You said it yourself today—we have no relationship.” Julian lunged to grab my phone. I took a half-step back. My thumb tapped the screen. [Authorization Status: Terminated.] A confirmation window popped up. I tapped ‘Confirm’. Julian’s face went completely pale. I called Arthur. “Did you get the recording of today’s meeting?” “Every single second of it.” “Put in the sell order before the market opens tomorrow. Thirty-four percent. Sell every single share.” “Ms. Vance, Sterling’s current stock price is eighty-six dollars. Are you sure you want to dump everything? Once the market sees a major shareholder liquidating—” “I know. Do it.” I hung up and took one last look at Julian. “You wanted to play amnesia and reset your life to when you were eighteen. I’m happy to help you. In seventy-two hours, every single chip running Sterling Group’s systems will stop functioning. When that happens, the multi-billion-dollar empire in your hands won’t be any different from that dusty second-hand laptop in your basement.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “466454”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My husband is incredibly handsome. I chased him for three long years before he finally agreed to marry me. But right after our wedding, he told me we were going strictly 50/50. On our second anniversary, I spent the entire afternoon cooking a massive, beautiful feast. I waited half the night, but he never came home. By midnight, I was burning up with a 105-degree fever, barely conscious on the couch. When he finally walked through the door, his very first words were, “Why did you cook so much food? Do you think ingredients are free?” “It’s all cold now. What a waste of money. You’re paying the lion’s share of this month’s grocery bill!” Dizzily, I mumbled, “Ethan… I have a fever. Can you please get me some medicine?” He let out a heavy sigh. “What a hassle…” A few minutes later, he came back and tossed a single Advil onto the coffee table. Then, he unlocked his phone. “This pack of Advil was twelve dollars for twelve pills. You owe me one dollar. Remember to PayPal me.” I froze. Then, a dry laugh escaped my throat. Fine. You want to go 50/50? I’ll play your game. I’ll play it to the bitter end.

Three years ago, I met Ethan for the first time at a friend’s backyard party. He was wearing a crisp white shirt. The sharp line of his jaw and the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed instantly captured my heart. Right then, I knew I was a goner. Chasing him felt like running a never-ending marathon. I bought him coffee and bagels in the morning; he took them without a word. I invited him to the movies; he said he was too busy. I confessed my feelings; he said he needed to think about it. For three whole years, I was like a tireless moth buzzing around his handsome flame. My friends told me I was insane. They said that besides his looks, Ethan had nothing going for him. His salary was average, his family background was ordinary, and his personality was cold. But I didn’t listen. I was like a glitched program, stubborn and blind, refusing to stop until I crashed. Then, after three years, he finally nodded. “Chloe, let’s get married.” I cried tears of pure joy. Our wedding was incredibly simple. Ethan said he didn’t want to waste money on a lavish ceremony. I thought he was just being practical and financially smart. I even felt a smug sense of pride, thinking I had hit the jackpot—a gorgeous man who knew the value of a dollar. He was my dream guy. On our wedding night, he stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel. “Chloe,” he said casually, “we need to set some ground rules early. From now on, we’re going 50/50.” I blinked, confused. “What?” “We split the rent 50/50. Utilities 50/50. Groceries 50/50.” His tone was completely flat, as if he were discussing the weather. “I did the math. It’s the fairest way to avoid arguments down the road.” “But… we’re newlyweds…” “Even married couples need clear boundaries,” he interrupted. “My ex-girlfriend and I broke up because of money issues. I don’t want to repeat that mistake.” I thought about it and decided to let it go. I was a modern, independent woman with a good job. If he wanted 50/50, we could do 50/50. I had no idea the nightmare was just beginning. During our first month, he pulled out a detailed Excel spreadsheet. It was crammed with tiny rows of expenses. Rent was $3,000. That was $1,500 each. Utilities were $200. $100 each. Groceries were $600. $300 each. “Wait a second,” I pointed at the screen. “All of these steaks and organic vegetables are things you bought for yourself. I don’t even eat red meat. Why am I splitting this in half?” He frowned, clearly annoyed. “We live together. Why are you being so petty over a few dollars? It’s exhausting.” Looking at his handsome face, I swallowed my annoyance and let it go. In our second month, my mother, Helen, came to the city for a medical checkup and stayed with us for a week. Ethan kept a cold, stony face the entire time, barely uttering a word. The moment my mother left, he immediately pulled out his calculator. “Your mom stayed for seven days. Food is $20 a day, and utilities increased by about $10 a day. That’s $210 total. Are you paying me back via PayPal or Venmo?” I stared at him in utter disbelief. “Ethan, that was my mother!” “I know who she is. But she stayed in our apartment,” he said, completely unfazed. “Even family members should keep their accounts straight.” Biting my tongue, I transferred him $220. Three months into our marriage, I caught a bad cold. My fever hit 100 degrees, and I texted him to ask if he could pick up some medicine on his way home from work. His reply on Snapchat was instant: *The pharmacy is out of my way. Just order DoorDash. Don’t forget to pay the delivery fee yourself. That’s your expense.* That night, I wrapped myself in blankets and cried myself to sleep. But even then, I didn’t give up on him. I kept telling myself that he was just overly rational. He would change. After all, he was so handsome. I had chased him for three years. And most of all, I loved him. Looking back now, I seriously want to slap my past self.

For our first Christmas as a married couple, Ethan suggested we spend the holidays apart. “But my parents want to see you,” I said. “I can go to your parents’ place,” he said, scrolling through his phone on the couch without looking up. “But on three conditions.” “What conditions?” “First, you pay for my flight. Second, I won’t pay for a single thing while we’re there. And third, the most important one…” He finally looked up, his eyes dead serious. “You have to pay me a mental compensation fee.” I thought I had misheard him. “A what?” “A mental compensation fee.” He put his phone down and started counting on his fingers. “Going to your house means I have to socialize with your parents. I have to smile, make small talk, and listen to them ask when we’re having kids. It’s a massive drain on my mental energy. Market rate for that kind of labor is $100 a day. Five days is $500.” My jaw dropped. I couldn’t speak. “Of course,” he added generously, “if you come to my family’s house, I’ll pay you the same rate.” “Ethan,” my voice shook, “we are married. Visiting family for the holidays is about showing respect and spending time together. And you’re talking to me about a mental compensation fee?” “Even married people are individuals,” he grumbled. “Chloe, can you stop being so emotional? I’m trying to have a logical conversation with you.” In the end, neither of us went to each other’s family homes. We spent Christmas apart, each flying back to our own parents. My mom called me on Christmas Eve. “Where’s Ethan, sweetie?” I lied and said he had to work overtime. After hanging up, I buried my face in my pillow and sobbed. For the first time, I felt like this marriage was a terrible mistake. But I still didn’t ask for a divorce. I naively thought that maybe once we had a child, everything would change. Maybe becoming a father would soften him. I was so incredibly stupid. The second year, after months of begging, I finally dragged him to my parents’ house for the holidays. Those five days were absolute torture. He kept a scowl on his face the entire time. When my mom put food on his plate, he coldly snapped, “I can do it myself.” When my dad tried to strike up a conversation about sports, he gave dry, one-word answers. When relatives came over, he locked himself in our room to play video games. On the day we left, my mom secretly slipped a Christmas card into my hand. Inside was $500 in cash. “Chloe,” she whispered, “does Ethan… not like us?” I forced a tight smile. “No, Mom. He’s just quiet.” On the flight back, Ethan suddenly turned to me. “How much cash was in that card?” “What?” “The card your mom gave you.” He stared at me. “Technically, we should split it. I was there, too.” I pulled out the envelope. Sure enough, there was $500. “That’s $250 each,” he said instantly. “PayPal me.” I transferred the money. My heart felt like it had been shattered into pieces. He checked his phone, saw the transfer, and leaned back in his seat with a satisfied smirk. “Next time we go to your parents’ place, make sure you have my mental compensation fee ready beforehand.” I looked out the window at the passing clouds. Somewhere deep inside me, something snapped.

Ethan’s 50/50 rule slowly invaded every single corner of our lives. If we ran out of hot sauce, he would buy a bottle and immediately text me a photo of the receipt: *Organic Hot Sauce, $7.90. You owe me $3.95.* Once, my period cramps were so bad I couldn’t get out of bed. I asked him to run to the store to buy me some pads. He came back and slapped the crumpled receipt on my nightstand. *Pads, $10. Venmo or cash?* “Ethan,” I gasped, clutching my stomach in pain. “Could you really not just…” “Just what?” He looked completely innocent. “These are your personal hygiene products. I have no use for them. Why should I pay?” The absolute worst incident happened at the grocery store. I picked up a container of fresh strawberries for $10. He glanced at them, then silently pushed his cart away from mine. When we reached the register, the cashier asked, “Together or separate?” “Separate,” Ethan said immediately. I froze. “It’s just a carton of strawberries…” “They’re ten dollars,” he said, scanning his card for his own items. “If you want them, buy them yourself.” The cashier gave us a look that made me want to melt into the floor. When we got home, I tried to sit him down. “Ethan, we are husband and wife. Can we please stop keeping score over every single cent?” “Keeping score is exactly what keeps couples from fighting,” he said, turning on his computer to play games. “I’m doing this to save our marriage. Look at all the couples who divorce over money. It’s because they don’t keep their accounts clear.” “But—” “Chloe,” he interrupted impatiently, “if you didn’t want a 50/50 marriage, you shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place. You can’t just back out now.” I was speechless. He was right. I had agreed to it. But I had assumed 50/50 meant building a life together, not being treated like a barely tolerated roommate. I started walking on eggshells. I stopped buying nice ingredients, terrified he’d demand I pay for half. I stopped asking him to pick up anything for me because I dreaded his “delivery fees.” I even tried my best not to get sick, fearing he would call me a burden. One night, I got a severe case of food poisoning. I was vomiting and passing out. He reluctantly agreed to drive me to the ER. On the way, he wouldn’t stop complaining. “ER copays are incredibly expensive. Are you sure you can’t just take some Tylenol and sleep it off?” When we arrived, he paid the copay at the desk and handed me the receipt. “That’s $150. You owe me.” I lay on the cold hospital bed, the IV needle freezing my hand. He sat in the chair next to me, staring at his phone. Every now and then, he’d look up at the IV bag. “This bag of fluids is billed at $100. Make sure you note that down.” The older woman in the bed next to mine couldn’t take it anymore. “Young man, your wife is hooked up to an IV and you’re calculating bills?” Ethan didn’t even look up. “Business is business.” The woman shook her head and shot me a look of deep, overwhelming pity.

Today was our second wedding anniversary. I had been planning it for a week. I had this naive fantasy that if I created a romantic atmosphere, we could have a real conversation. I wanted to ask him to stop this exhausting 50/50 lifestyle. I even wanted to talk about starting a family. I took half the day off work to go to the high-end market. I bought a fresh Boston lobster, prime Wagyu steaks, imported cherries, and a good bottle of red wine. I wanted to make a perfect dinner to show him how much I cared. Maybe we were just too stressed. Maybe a baby would fix things. Maybe… maybe everything would get better. I cooked from 3 PM until 8 PM. The lobster was steamed perfectly, the steaks were seared, the wine was decanted, and the candles were lit. I wore a beautiful silk dress and put on makeup. But by 8 PM, he wasn’t home. I shot him a Snapchat: *When will you be home?* *Working late. Not sure,* he replied. By 9 PM, the food was getting cold. I put the lobster back in the oven to keep warm. By 10 PM, the steaks were ruined, overcooked from being reheated. By 11 PM, I fell asleep on the couch, exhausted. At 1:00 AM, the front door finally clicked open. Ethan walked in, smelling strongly of alcohol. He saw the dining table and froze, his eyebrows knitting together in a hard scowl. “Why are you still awake?” “Waiting for you,” I said, standing up. My legs were so numb I almost tripped. “Happy anniversary. I made dinner.” He walked over to the table, glanced at the dishes, and his face twisted in anger. “Why did you buy all of this? Do you think ingredients are free?” I stared at him, numb. “What?” “Lobster, Wagyu, imported cherries…” He pointed at the plates, his voice rising. “How much did this cost? Three hundred dollars? Four hundred?” “Ethan, it’s our wedding anniversary…” “An anniversary gives you the right to throw money away?” he snapped. “It’s all cold and ruined. What a waste. You’re paying for all of this month’s groceries!” “Actually, pay for the whole thing. I’ll just eat out this month. This food is way too expensive, and I’m not splitting it with you.” Suddenly, my head began to spin. It wasn’t just anger. I was physically burning up. My forehead was scorching hot, and my throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. “Ethan,” I whispered, holding onto the edge of the table. “I think I have a really bad fever. Can you please get me some medicine?” He looked at me, his eyes filled with nothing but annoyance. “What a hassle…” He turned and went into the bedroom. I leaned against the wall, the room spinning around me. Five minutes later, he walked back out, holding a sheet of Advil. “Here.” He tossed a single pill to me. I caught it, my hands shaking violently. “This pack of Advil was twelve dollars for twelve pills,” he said, pulling out his phone and opening his calculator app. “You owe me one dollar. Transfer it to my PayPal.” I stared at the tiny white pill in my hand. And then, I laughed. The laughter bubbled up from my chest, growing louder and louder until I was bent double, tears streaming down my face. Ethan stepped back, looking at me like I had lost my mind. “What is wrong with you?” I stood up straight, wiping my eyes. The fever had blurred my vision, but my mind had never been clearer. My voice was dead calm and steady. “Fine. You want to go 50/50? I’ll play your game. I’ll play it to the bitter end.” Ethan frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Exactly what I said.” I turned and walked toward the bedroom. “I’ll transfer you the dollar. Oh, and by the way, this anniversary dinner cost $300. You owe me $150. PayPal me tonight.” “What?!” he yelled. “Why should I pay for that? I didn’t even eat it!” “Because you didn’t give me any notice that you weren’t coming home. Honestly, you’re lucky I’m not charging you for my labor.” He shut his mouth, stunned. I locked the bedroom door and leaned against it, my heart hammering against my ribs. I realized something. Playing by his rules was actually incredibly liberating. Why should I be the only one suffering? If we were going to be miserable, we might as well both be miserable. I opened my phone and went to my photo album. For the past two years, I had saved every single transaction, every Venmo request, every Snapchat argument, and every Excel sheet. I used to think they were just records of our life together. Now I realized they were my ammunition. Ethan, you love 50/50? I’m going to give you exactly what you wanted.

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When I got back from my business trip, the front door of my apartment was plastered with bright pink warning sticky notes. They were past due notices from the Homeowners Association (HOA). I immediately took a screenshot of my payment history on PayPal and sent it to the property manager. We had always paid our bills on time. This had to be a mistake. But her reply came back quickly: “Mrs. Vance, the HOA fees for your current apartment are indeed fully paid. However, the fees for the other luxury penthouse in our complex under your husband’s name have been overdue for months.” Someone else was defaulting on their fees. What did that have to do with me? Before I could ask, the manager sent over the unit number of the other penthouse, along with the payment history for the past three years. The signature at the bottom of the lease was clear as day: my husband’s name, Julian Miller, and his phone number. I followed the address and stood right outside the door of that luxury penthouse. Acting on instinct, I typed Julian’s birthday into the smart lock and pressed enter. *Beep.* The door actually clicked open.

From inside, a sweet, whiny female voice drifted out, carrying a hint of playful excitement. “Julian, you’re back! I only said I was a little hungry, and you actually went out to get me food? You’re going to completely spoil me at this rate~” The soft patter of slippers grew closer, making my heart tighten. “Give me the takeout.” A manicured hand slipped through the crack of the door. I grabbed her wrist with a sudden, vicious yank, throwing the door wide open. Instead of being shocked, she giggled, leaning into me with an even more flirtatious pout. “Oh, Julian~ Stop playing hard to get. You’re so bad.” “Can we play later? My stomach is literally growling~” She finally looked up, and my eyes locked onto her face. It was Seraphina Ward. I had met her a few times before. Julian had talked about her a lot. He always said she was super talented, beautiful, and the rising star at his talent agency. He claimed tons of guys were chasing her, and he was just acting as a shield to help her reject them. To show her gratitude, Seraphina often treated him to dinners—sometimes lasting late into the night. I had assumed it was just professional courtesy between colleagues. I hadn’t thought twice about it. Now, it was obvious their relationship was far filthier than I had ever imagined. I looked her up and down. She was indeed pretty, but in a very cheap, try-hard way. Today, she was dressed differently. She was wearing a skimpy, kinky French maid outfit that squeezed her curves, complete with an electronic, wagging cat tail attached to her backside. No doubt about it, this was Julian’s kink. In the past, I had put so much effort into pleasing Julian. I had tried all kinds of sexy lingerie just because he once said: “Babe, wearing baggy pajamas around the house is so boring. I bought you some sexy stuff. Let’s spice things up tonight.” We had been married for three years, and I wanted to keep the spark alive, so I agreed. At first, I wore them for him every night. He clung to me constantly, making me feel like we were back in college. But as time went on, I realized he would rather play Xbox than look at me. So, I stopped. It felt pointless. And now, the exact same outfit was on another woman. He certainly seemed to have regained his appetite. “Babe, who’s at the door?” A familiar, smooth male voice cut through my thoughts. Obviously, that “babe” wasn’t meant for me. When Julian saw me standing there, there wasn’t a single shred of guilt or panic on his face. Instead, his brows furrowed into a tight, irritated scowl. “Chloe? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be visiting your mother today?” I let out a cold laugh and pushed past them into the foyer. “Just checking out our marital assets.” “Julian, I didn’t know you bought us a new home. Care to explain?” Seraphina, finally realizing she was caught, shrank back and hid behind Julian’s broad shoulders. She gripped his arm tightly, trembling like a frightened puppy. Julian instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding her with his body. He seemed to have completely forgotten that I was his actual wife. I scanned the room. The massive penthouse was littered with used condom wrappers. There was one on the kitchen counter, one on the coffee table, and even two lying right by the floor-to-ceiling windows. I had actually seen the interior design of this penthouse two years ago in a photo on Julian’s phone. In that photo, Julian and Seraphina were snuggled up together, holding a newborn baby. Julian was a rising star in the local fashion photography scene. Back then, he had dismissed my suspicions, saying it was just a mock shoot for a commercial client. But I couldn’t see any professional lighting or composition in that photo. It was just a candid, warm snapshot of a happy family of three. He had rolled his eyes at me back then. “The male model flaked at the last minute, so I had to step in. You’re always overthinking everything, Chloe. The client wanted something realistic. If I were actually having an affair, would I be stupid enough to keep the photos?” Turns out, the breadcrumbs had been there for two years. A wave of coldness washed over my heart, and I scoffed. “No wonder you’ve been complaining about back pain and being exhausted every time you come home, Julian. Turns out you were spending all your energy on another woman.” He didn’t care about my sarcasm at all. Now that his affair was out in the open, his tense shoulders actually relaxed. He let out a long sigh, looking almost relieved. “Since you found this place, there’s no point in lying.” “Seraphina is different from you. This is between you and me, Chloe. Don’t drag her into this. She scares easily.” I laughed out loud. So, he was openly admitting that Seraphina was his mistress? My eyes locked onto the cheating couple. My piercing gaze made Seraphina gasp. She immediately started whining, rubbing her face against Julian’s shoulder. “Julian, I was just too lonely and wanted you with me. But… I don’t think Chloe likes me very much.” Julian patted her hand gently. “Don’t worry, Seraphina. I’ll handle her.”

Watching this display of “true love” made me want to applaud. I actually laughed out loud. I was laughing at how pathetic my marriage was, and letting out the absolute rage boiling inside me. “Chloe, can you keep your voice down? We live in the same complex. If the neighbors hear you, aren’t you embarrassed?” Julian snapped. I arched an eyebrow. “You’re the cheating scumbag, and she’s the shameless homewrecker. If you two aren’t embarrassed, why should I be? I didn’t do anything wrong.” Seraphina bit her lip, playing the brave, fragile victim. She stepped out from behind Julian and faced me. “Chloe, I know you hate me. I know you blame me. But Julian is a public figure now. If you really love him, you shouldn’t make a scene that ruins his reputation.” “It’s all my fault. If you want to scream or hit someone, do it to me. I won’t complain.” She was playing the martyr, knowing Julian would protect her just to make me look like a crazy, hysterical wife. I didn’t hesitate. I stepped forward and kicked Seraphina right in the stomach. The kick was fast and hard. Julian didn’t even have time to react. Seraphina doubled over, clutching her stomach, her face turning pale as she gasped for air. Julian shoved me hard. I stumbled back two steps. He immediately scooped Seraphina up in his arms and laid her gently on the plush sofa, looking absolutely devastated. “Aww, look how much you care.” “She literally asked me to hit her. I just obliged.” Julian clenched his fists, the veins in his forehead pulsing. I had never seen him this angry. Usually, he treated me with cold indifference. He never showed any real emotion in front of me. Perhaps our marriage had been dead for a very long time. “Chloe, you are a psycho! Coming in here and throwing a tantrum… Have you ever stopped to think about why I’ve been cold to you lately? It’s because of this! You’re toxic, and you never admit your own faults!” I pointed to myself, finding it utterly hilarious. Indeed, when a man loves you, your anger is cute. When he doesn’t, even your breathing is toxic. I stared at Julian’s face—a face that now felt so incredibly foreign. When did it start? When did his patience turn into annoyance? When did the warmth in his eyes turn into absolute hatred? What does marriage actually give a woman? I didn’t know. All I knew was that the moment I found out he cheated, I was done. Julian glared at me, his eyes bloodshot, as if he had finally made up his mind to destroy me. “Look at you. You’re only twenty-five, but you dress like a grandma. Those thick, ugly glasses look like glass bottles, and your face is covered in those hideous fake freckles. Looking at you every morning literally ruins my appetite.” “And those clunky metal braces! You’ve had them since before we got married. Kissing you feels like chewing on wire hangers, and your breath always smells like metal. I’ve tolerated you for years without divorcing you, Chloe. You should be down on your knees thanking me!” I turned my head and looked at the full-length mirror nearby. My reflection stared back at me. It was true. I looked frumpy and completely unappealing. But I had my reasons. Ever since I could remember, my father was never in the picture. My mother’s bitter warnings were the soundtrack to my childhood. “Chloe, when you get married, keep your eyes open. Never choose a man who only loves you for your face. Beauty fades, and so will his love.” “You must find a man who loves you for who you are. Relationships built on pretty faces never last.” My mother had been a famous beauty in her youth. I inherited her stunning looks, but I chose to hide them. I wanted to find a man who loved me purely for my soul, just like my mother had advised.

Our third anniversary was coming up, and I had been planning to shed my disguise. I wanted to be completely honest with Julian. I wanted to tell him that he had passed my test. I was going to tell him that he would never have to endure people laughing at his “ugly wife” anymore. He could proudly show me off to the world. But I never got the chance. He had already strayed. My chest felt incredibly tight, as if an invisible hand was squeezing my heart. “I’m a public figure, Chloe. A woman like you is an embarrassment. I can’t take you to events.” “Seraphina never wanted to take your place as my wife, but you just had to push it. Ruining my life won’t do you any good. If you want to keep any shred of dignity, pack your trash and get the hell out of here.” Julian looked at me with pure disgust. To make his point, he grabbed a trash bag that hadn’t been tied up and threw it at me. The bag broke, and foul, rotten garbage juice splashed all over my jeans. “Julian, don’t forget that if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be a miserable, low-paid assistant at that studio!” I had believed we were a couple that could survive anything together. Now I realized we could only share the struggle, but someone else was going to enjoy the reward. Julian let out a mocking laugh. “Chloe, you really think highly of yourself, don’t you?” “Sure, you introduced me to the CEO of the entertainment agency. But if I didn’t have talent, do you think I’d be where I am today?” “I became a top photographer because of my unique style and my own networking skills! It had absolutely nothing to do with you!” My heart turned to ice. His words were like a blunt knife carving into my chest. The path I paved for him, the financial backing I secretly provided, the elite connections I handed to him on a silver platter… I had built him up with my own hands. And he dismissed it all in two sentences. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, but the physical pain couldn’t numb the agony in my chest. Seraphina whimpered, clutch her stomach. Her weak voice instantly drew Julian’s attention. “Julian… it hurts so bad.” “Please stop fighting. My head is spinning.” Julian ignored me completely. He rushed to her side, kneeling in front of the sofa, gently cupping her face. Staying here would only bring more humiliation. I turned on my heel and walked out of the penthouse. I spent the next twenty-four hours at the clinic having my braces removed, washing off the fake freckles, and getting a professional blowout. Then, I went on a shopping spree for designer clothes. Hiding my face for a man was the stupidest thing I had ever done. I wanted to see if Julian could survive in this industry without me.

When I returned to our actual apartment, I ripped the HOA warning off the door. Julian hadn’t been home. I pulled out my phone and sent him a message on Snapchat. *Chloe: Our marriage is over. Let’s get a divorce.* It took a while before he replied. *Julian: Do you have any idea what you did? Seraphina is pregnant! Thank God the baby is fine, or I would have made you pay for that kick!* *Julian: Now that she’s pregnant, we definitely need a divorce. I need to give her and the baby a proper family!* I had already processed my emotions. His anger didn’t move me at all. *Chloe: I don’t care about this dead marriage. I just want one thing.* A corrupt mind always projects its own venom. *Julian: Want to bleed me dry? Let me tell you, Chloe, you won’t get a single penny of my money.* I smiled coldly at the screen. *Chloe: I want a proper divorce ceremony. Just to keep things civil. You won’t deny me that dignity, right?* My request caught him off guard. Eager to seal the deal, he replied quickly. *Julian: Fine.* *Julian: When?* *Chloe: Tonight!* *Julian: You better sign the papers and not cause any trouble.* I put my phone away and ignored him. I spent the next hour decorating the apartment. I invited all our close friends and family over for a “gathering.” When I heard the front door open, I stood in the center of the living room, a smirk playing on my lips. Julian walked in, holding hands with Seraphina. Perfect. How could we have a public execution without the main villain? I slowly walked down the stairs. The moment the guests saw me, gasps echoed through the room. “Oh my god, is that Chloe? She looks completely different!” “Holy crap! That body, that face… She is a literal goddess!” “Who dared to say Chloe was ugly? She looks like a supermodel!” “Wait, is that Tristan Sterling behind her? The rebel billionaire heir?” “I heard he only dates wild party girls… Why is he holding Chloe’s hand?” I looked at Julian. His face was a mask of utter shock, his pupils dilated. Tristan Sterling’s status and wealth were light-years ahead of Julian’s. Julian had always been desperately jealous of him. Tristan stepped up, wrapping an arm around my waist, and announced to the room, “From now on, Chloe is my fiancée. Also, the Sterling Group is officially canceling all business mergers and partnerships with the Miller family.” The moment those words left his mouth, Julian completely lost his cool.

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I got slapped twice by my mother just for using an extra sanitary pad. That was the day I swore to God I would never be poor again. So, when I managed to hook Carter Vance, my billionaire benefactor, I used every trick in the book to chase away every other pretty little thing around him. Everyone in our circle thought I was going to be the future Mrs. Vance. They even teased us at a private party last night: “I heard Carter placed a blind max bid at a charity auction last night just to get a legendary diamond ring.” The next second, Carter gently slipped that breathtaking, fiery diamond onto my finger. My heart hammered against my ribs. Just as I thought all my scheming had finally paid off, Carter’s deep voice echoed in my ear: “Do you like your breakup gift?” I froze, looking up in daze. Right then, the door pushed open, and a timid-looking girl walked in. Carter set down his Cuban cigar. “I’m getting married, Cassie. Tell me what else you want. Let’s end this on a good note.” I sized the girl up. A white dress, innocent eyes, looking like a helpless puppy. Yet, the “no-makeup” eyeliner she wore was drawn more flawlessly than a professional’s. So, I swallowed the words “villa,” “sports car,” and “millions in cash” that were about to burst out of my mouth. Instead, I squeezed out a single, fragile tear, took off the sparkling ring, and placed it gently back on the table. “Only a bride needs a wedding ring. Keep it for her.” Seeing the hesitation that flashed through his eyes, I smiled softly. “Congratulations on your wedding, Mr. Vance.” What’s more lethal than a fake, innocent girl? A gold digger’s seemingly genuine heart.

My reaction caught everyone in the room off guard. Carter lit a cigarette, his tone suddenly feeling a bit distant. “Cassie, I thought you loved money more than anything.” As the smoke swirled, my mind drifted back to the year I first met him. I had just escaped my toxic home. I couldn’t even scrape together a few thousand dollars for my college tuition, and I was sobbing, squatting by the university gates. He was there as a guest speaker. Walking past, his strong hand steadied me and pulled me up. When I looked up, I locked eyes with his amused, handsome face. I didn’t tell him about my gambling addict of a father, my weak mother, or my greedy brother. That story was too cliché. I only said five words. “I just want some money.” He laughed, just as he did now. “Money is the only thing I have plenty of.” A blank check was stuffed into my bag back then. But now, Carter waved his hand to the girl at the door. “Chloe, come sit by me.” I glanced at the numbers on the check in my hand, a mix of affection and bitter jealousy rising in my chest. He always called me by my full name, Cassie. But for Chloe, he used a sweet nickname. Seeing how cozy they were, the guys in the room immediately started cheering. “First time meeting her, shouldn’t we toast the future Mrs. Vance?” Chloe’s voice was barely a whisper. “Carter, I don’t really drink…” “I heard Cassie has a high tolerance. Could she please drink this shot for me?” She held her glass with such clumsy innocence that for a second, I actually wondered if I had misjudged her. But the moment those words left her mouth, my doubts vanished. This petty little trick wouldn’t even rank in the top ten compared to the other women I had chased away from Carter over the years. Carter didn’t say no. He just tilted his chin toward me. But he knew damn well I had just been discharged from the hospital last month for a severe stomach ulcer. Back in the hospital room, his tone had been impatient but his eyes were unusually tender: “Do you think you’re invincible? Stop drinking for me at business dinners.” I actually thought that was his unspoken way of caring for me. Now, I looked at the glass of neat, burning whiskey in front of me. One shot wouldn’t kill me. The silence stretched. Just when everyone thought I was going to embarrass Carter by refusing, I smiled. “I’ll drink it for her. Consider it my way of thanking you, Carter, for taking care of me all these years.” With that, I grabbed the entire decanter and chugged it right in front of Carter’s shocked eyes. Before I could even process the burn, Carter frowned deeply and snatched the bottle away. There was a rare, frantic panic in his voice. “Are you insane? Go throw it up!” “Cassie, would you literally die for some cash?” I laughed and brushed his hand away. I pulled the check out of my purse. *Rip. Rip.* The multi-million dollar check was torn into halves, then quarters, and casually tossed onto the floor. “Mr. Vance, after all these years with you, I’ve already made enough.” “The reason I stayed… was never about the money.” If it wasn’t for the money, then what was it for? The entire room went dead silent. No one dared to ask. Even Carter pressed his lips into a tight line.

Having been with him for five years, everyone in the city’s high society knew how much I loved money. Carter used to pinch my cheek and laugh. “Cassie, are you a black hole? You only take money in, never let it out.” Yet, he was also the one who spoiled me the most, sending endless designer bags to my door. He had even transferred the luxury penthouse in the city center under my name. No one had ever treated me that well. I thought it was love. Looking back, those things were probably just breadcrumbs he threw to a pet bird, entirely insignificant to him. Just as Carter was about to speak. Chloe’s eyes suddenly turned red next to him. “Carter, it’s so stuffy in here. Can you take me outside for some fresh air?” The hesitation in Carter’s eyes vanished. He picked Chloe up in his arms. I watched his retreating back, the bitterness boiling in my chest again. Under the cold night sky, I hailed a cab and sent my penthouse’s details to a real estate agent. Hearing that I wanted a quick sale, the agent asked for the reason. Before I could reply, a notification popped up on my phone. It was a wire transfer from Carter. He said nothing, but he transferred double the amount of that torn check. I accepted it without a shred of guilt. Since the love was gone, I might as well keep the money. I pushed open the door to my penthouse quietly. The two people on the living room sofa clearly didn’t hear me come in. Carter’s face was filled with unmasked pleasure as he leaned down, whispering sweet nothings to the girl. Carter had been treated like a king since childhood; he was never one to care about others’ feelings in bed. He took what he wanted, and I never had the right to say no. Yet, when Chloe tearfully pushed him away, he merely frowned with restraint. He was actually coaxing her gently. I let out a self-deprecating laugh and quietly stepped back out, closing the door. Leaning against the doorframe in the hallway, the faint sounds from inside pierced my heart, over and over. I closed my eyes and counted the seconds, calculating how many more zeros I should demand for this. Finally, the storm subsided. Carter opened the door, the fresh scratch marks on his abs painfully visible. “Am I interrupting you two?” Hearing my flat tone, Carter’s brows furrowed. After all, I used to be the one who threw tantrums and acted clingy whenever other women tried to get close. “Chloe isn’t feeling well, and this place is close to the city hospital. You need to pack your things and move out so she can stay here.” My hands clenched into tight fists. I had once half-jokingly told Carter about my terrible family. Back then, his tone was completely indifferent: “Cassie, I don’t like women who play the victim to get my sympathy.” Yet, on my twenty-third birthday, he was also the one who gifted me this very apartment. “Just because you didn’t have a home growing up doesn’t mean you can’t build one for yourself in the future,” he had said. But now, he was giving this “home” to another woman. And I could only smile and say, “Okay.” Chloe, draped in Carter’s suit jacket, blushed. “I’m so sorry, Cassie. I didn’t know this was your place.” I glanced at the countless high heels in the shoe rack, and then at the framed photo of Carter and me hanging in the hallway. “Your eyesight must be pretty bad, Miss Chloe.” Chloe’s eyes welled up with tears instantly. The next second, Carter pulled her into his arms, his voice icy. “She’s just a young girl throwing a little tantrum, and you have to make a scene? Cassie, know your place.” “Apologize to her.” For years, I had used Carter’s influence to play the queen bee in high society. This was the first time he had ever used this tone with me for another woman. I took a deep breath, forcing a bright smile. “My apologies, Miss Chloe.” “I’ll pack my things right now so I don’t get in your way.” Apparently not expecting me to back down so easily, a storm of complicated emotions flickered in Carter’s eyes. “Cassie, I didn’t tell you to leave completely.” My heart leaped for a fraction of a second.

But the next moment, he said, “Chloe needs to recover here for a couple of days. You stay and take care of her.” A smug gleam flashed in Chloe’s eyes. “Sorry to trouble you, Cassie.” Without a word, I walked up to her and reached out my hand. Chloe froze. Even Carter thought I was going to slap her and instinctively stepped in to block me. But I merely gently touched the diamond studs on her earlobes. “These diamonds cost about fifteen thousand dollars. They’re the most expensive pair on my vanity table.” “You have good taste, Chloe.” *If you want to play the innocent virgin, at least hide your greedy claws.* Chloe’s smile froze, her face turning pale. Carter’s brows knitted as he looked at Chloe, a hint of suspicion arising in his eyes for the first time. “I’m sorry, Cassie… I just grabbed them randomly…” I didn’t give her a chance to explain. I swiftly packed my things and cleared out of the master bedroom. “The master bedroom is yours now. The sheets are freshly changed.” I glanced at her hands. “Your hands are so clean and soft. I doubt you even know how to make a bed.” Carter stayed silent, his fingers tapping on the table—a habit of his when he was thinking deeply. Except for me, he had never met a genuinely poor person in his life. Now, he was probably realizing that a truly broke, struggling “girl-next-door” couldn’t possibly have hands without a single callus. After all, he used to grab my hands with feigned disgust and tease: “Cassie, your hands are rougher than my grandmother’s.” Yet, he was also the one who constantly had luxury hand creams delivered to me. Carter suddenly spoke up. “I’ll buy this penthouse back from you at double the market price. I’ll transfer the funds immediately.” “Cassie, stop throwing a tantrum.” Checking the transfer notification on my phone and counting the zeros, I smiled. But the satisfaction in my heart was hollow. After packing, I went into the kitchen to brew some hangover cure tea. The shower in the bathroom started running. I turned around. Chloe was standing right behind me, her sweet expression replaced by a dark scowl. “Cassie, do you think you’re so smart?” I silently glanced at the hidden camera I had installed in the corner of the kitchen and said nothing. She was too young. She didn’t understand that in my line of work, keeping receipts and evidence was everything. The very next day after this apartment was transferred to my name, I had installed 360-degree hidden cameras in every corner. Seeing my silence, Chloe’s arrogance grew. “I know you chased away a lot of his exes, but so what?” “In the end, I’m the one who’s going to marry him and become Mrs. Vance.” “Cassie, do you hate me?” I calmly turned off the stove. “Yeah, I do.” Startled by my blunt confession, Chloe blinked. I raised my voice slightly, making sure the camera captured every word clearly. “He hates anything sour. Put extra honey in his hangover tea.” “He prefers strawberry-scented, ultra-thin condoms. And his favorite position is—” Chloe’s face grew uglier with every word. My tone, however, dropped into a perfectly tragic sadness: “Future Mrs. Vance, please take good care of him from now on.” Hearing the shower stop, I poured the hot tea into a bowl and handed it to her. In that exact split second, Chloe’s expression warped. She reached out and violently grabbed my wrist! In the scuffle, she threw herself heavily onto the floor, letting out a sharp, pathetic scream. Under her force, the boiling hot tea splashed entirely onto my arm! Heavy footsteps rushed in. Carter ran into the kitchen, his brow furrowed. My arm felt like it was on fire. The blistering pain set in instantly. At this very moment, I desperately wanted to know. Between a five-year relationship and a girl he had known for less than two months… Who would he choose? The next second, Carter scooped Chloe up in his arms, his face written with pure worry. He looked at me with cold, unfamiliar eyes. “Cassie, have I spoiled you so much over these years…” “…that you’ve completely forgotten your place and started acting like a monster?” But Chloe hadn’t even said a word yet. My fantasy of pulling out the camera footage and exposing her frame-job suddenly felt incredibly pathetic. Because she didn’t have to say anything. Carter just chose to believe her. I felt incredibly ridiculous, so I actually laughed out loud, even as tears silently spilled from the corners of my eyes. “Yeah. I forgot my place.” “It won’t happen again.” Because, at this very moment, I decided I didn’t want a “next time” anymore.

A flicker of some unreadable emotion crossed Carter’s eyes. He didn’t reply. He carried Chloe out to tend to her leg, which was barely even bruised. It was as if he didn’t even see the massive, horrific red burn spreading across my arm. I let out a soft sigh. Young girls really don’t know how to control their strength. Thank god I turned off the heat early. Yet, I didn’t know why this hot soup felt like it had been poured directly onto my heart. It burned, and it ached. After cleaning up the kitchen, there was a knock on the door. It was Carter’s assistant, delivering medicine. The expensive burn ointments in his hand were hard to miss. I instinctively reached out, but the assistant pulled them back awkwardly. “I’m sorry, Miss Cassie. These are all for Miss Chloe.” “Mr. Vance said Miss Chloe was splashed by the soup and needs to prevent scarring.” I pulled my hand back, embarrassed. “Oh. My bad. Go on in.” Back in my temporary bedroom, I grabbed my phone and sent a confirmation message to the real estate agent. The apartment was gone, the car would be sold tomorrow. There was nothing left for me in this city. I sent a message to the study-abroad agency I had consulted a long time ago. My budget was high, so they confirmed my application almost instantly. Throughout my entire college life, I was constantly running after money. I had never actually experienced the freedom of being a carefree student. I had almost forgotten that I was still young. I could still live for myself. The next morning, I was jolted awake by a sharp, agonizing pain in my scalp! I forced my eyes open. My biological father’s nightmarish face was hovering right in front of me, more terrifying than any ghost. He was violently dragging me up by my hair. “You little bitch! I wondered where the hell you ran off to all these years!” “Turns out you’ve been whoring yourself out to some rich guy?! Have you no shame?!” I struggled in terror. The childhood trauma of almost being sold off to an old man rushed back instantly. “Let go of me!” As my mind cleared, I caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the doorway. Instinctively, I cried out: “Carter! Help me…” But the next second, the billionaire calmly lit a cigarette. “Cassie, you made Chloe cry so bitterly. You need to learn a lesson.” My father’s face twisted into an even uglier sneer. “You stupid brat, how do you think I found you?” “You’re so dirty now, I’d be embarrassed to even use you to pay off my debts!” Through the rising cigarette smoke, Carter’s face became blurry. I couldn’t tell if the brief flash of pity on his face was just my imagination. Chloe poked her head out from behind Carter. “Cassie, no matter what, you can’t just abandon your own father.” “I went to a lot of trouble to track your dad down for you, you know.” With that, the door slammed shut. In that moment of absolute despair, I reached under my pillow and pulled out a long kitchen knife I had hidden there. Just like in the countless nightmares I had over the years, I pressed the sharp blade hard against my father’s throat. The man’s eyes widened in sheer terror. His body, withered from years of alcohol and smoking, was no match for my physically fit body, which I had trained for years just for this day. By the time the police dragged him away, a sudden realization hit me. The “home” I had searched for, the warmth I had clung to, the nightmare I had run from… They were all nothing but a joke. That very night, I boarded a one-way flight to New York. But I left Carter a parting gift. I had uploaded the kitchen camera footage to his smart TV stream, and laid out all the background info on Chloe—which I had paid a private investigator to dig up—right on his coffee table. Looking at the paused TV screen in the living room, Carter froze, his finger hovering over the play button. Next to him, Chloe shrieked, “No! Don’t watch it!”

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My wife said she was going on a road trip to the beach with her best friend, and she specifically told me not to contact her. Before she left, she put on a brand-new dress, sprayed a flirty perfume, and adjusted the passenger seat all the way back. In the middle of the night, the more I thought about it, the more uneasy I felt. I dialed her best friend’s husband’s number. “Is Harper home?” He answered sleepily, “Yeah, she just finished showering.” I clenched my phone, got into my car, and drove straight to his house. “Open the door. I’m outside.” Her best friend’s husband opened the door, and there was Harper, standing in the living room in her pajamas, completely panicking. The next moment, I opened the car app on my phone and remotely locked my wife’s car. Chloe said she was going on a three-day road trip to the beach with her best friend, Harper. She specifically told me not to contact her. “The reception where we’re going is terrible,” she said. “And I just really want to completely unplug and relax.” I nodded. “Okay.” The day before she left, she dragged me around the mall all day. She bought a new white sundress. She also bought a new bottle of perfume. It wasn’t her usual light, floral scent. This one was rich, musky, and incredibly sexy. She said, “Harper loves this scent.” On the morning of her departure, she got up very early. She spent two hours doing her makeup. Her eyeliner was sharp, and she wore a bold, classic red lipstick. I watched her. “It’s just a trip to the beach. Do you really need to go all out like this?” She laughed. “You don’t understand girls, Adam.” “We need to take lots of cute pictures for Instagram.” She loaded her suitcase into the trunk. Then, she got into the driver’s seat, but immediately got back out. She opened the passenger door and started adjusting the seat. She pushed the passenger seat all the way back, creating the maximum amount of legroom. I frowned. “Why are you making the passenger seat so spacious?” Chloe didn’t even look back. “Harper gained some weight recently. I’m afraid she won’t be comfortable otherwise.” I didn’t say anything else. I helped her close the trunk. She leaned out of the car window and blew me a kiss. “Bye, Adam!” “Be a good boy at home.” The car sped away, kicking up dust. I went back inside our empty house. The heavy, suffocating scent of her perfume still lingered in the air. I walked out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette. Harper gained weight? We had just had dinner together last week. She was even thinner than Chloe. My heart began to sink, inch by inch. In the middle of the night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning. Chloe’s Snapchat profile background was still our wedding photo. In the photo, her smile was so sweet. But my mind was entirely consumed by that passenger seat pushed all the way back. I grabbed my phone. I dialed Harper’s husband, Mike.

“Hey? It’s so late, what’s up?” I took a deep breath, keeping my voice as steady as possible. “Mike, is Harper home?” There was a second of silence on the other end. Then came Mike’s confused voice. “Yeah, she’s home. She just finished her shower, she’s blow-drying her hair right now.” I felt the blood in my veins completely freeze. “Sorry, dialed the wrong number.” I hung up. The room was deathly quiet. Outside the window, the city lights were cold and piercing. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. But as I laughed, tears started rolling down my face. What a brilliant “road trip.” What a wonderful “best friend.” I sat up abruptly. Rage surged through every fiber of my being. I couldn’t just let this go. I needed proof. I needed answers. I needed to shatter this meticulously crafted lie into pieces. I rushed downstairs. I started my car. I slammed on the gas, and the car shot out like an arrow. The cold night wind rushed through the open window, stinging my face. But my heart was much colder than the wind. Twenty minutes later. I parked my car outside Mike’s apartment building. It was a very familiar neighborhood. Chloe and I had been here countless times. I pulled out my phone again and called Mike. “Open the door.” “I’m outside your apartment.” On the other end of the line, Mike was baffled. “What? Are you kidding me?” “I’m not kidding.” “Open the door.” I heard footsteps through the phone, and then Harper’s faint, startled gasp. A few seconds later. The door opened. Mike stood there in his sweatpants, looking at me with utter confusion. “Adam.” I pushed past him and walked inside. The living room lights were bright. Behind him stood Harper in her pink silk pajamas. Her hair was wet, and she was still holding her hair dryer. When she saw me, her face completely lost all color.

Harper’s eyes looked like those of a cornered animal. The hair dryer slipped from her hand and clattered onto the floor. “Adam, what… why are you here?” Her voice was trembling, barely audible. Mike finally snapped out of his daze. He walked over and patted my shoulder. “Adam, what the hell is going on? Did you and Chloe get into a fight?” He knew nothing. Looking at him, I suddenly felt a wave of pity. And a bit of envy. My gaze shifted back to Harper. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a road trip at the beach with Chloe?” “Why are you at home?” Harper’s face turned as white as a sheet of paper. “Oh… about that…” “We… we canceled it at the last minute.” “Yeah, we canceled it!” Mike looked even more confused now. “Canceled? What are you guys talking about?” He looked at me, then at his panicked wife. I laughed. It was a cold, bitter laugh. I didn’t look at her again. Under their bewildered stares, I pulled out my phone. I opened my car’s tracking app. It clearly showed the real-time location of Chloe’s white BMW. A blinking red dot was parked at a resort hotel over eighty miles away from the city. My finger swiped gently across the screen. An option popped up. “Remote Lock & Disable Engine” A small text notification flashed. “Vehicle locked. Engine immobilized.” Right at that moment, my phone started ringing like crazy. It was Chloe. I answered it and put it on speaker. Her panicked, crying voice erupted from the speaker. “Adam! Where are you?!” “My car! I don’t know what happened, but it suddenly locked itself and won’t start!” “I’m trapped at a highway rest stop! It’s so dark, and I’m so scared!” “Please, come rescue me!” I held the phone, staring at the pale-faced Harper in front of me, and said slowly. “I am at your best friend’s house.” “And her husband is right here with me.”

The other end of the line went instantly dead silent. I could easily picture Chloe’s face at this exact moment. A few seconds later, her hysterical voice exploded from the speaker. “Why are you at Harper’s house?!” “What the hell are you doing at her place in the middle of the night?! Are you out of your mind?!” I let out a cold sneer. “Am I out of my mind?” “Chloe, I should be the one asking that question.” “Aren’t you supposed to be with Harper?” “Why are you alone at a rest stop?” In the living room, Harper stumbled back. She almost collapsed to the floor. Mike caught her. He finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. His brows furrowed deeply. “Adam, what the hell is actually going on?” I turned my phone screen toward him. “She’s right here.” I pointed at the location on the screen. “A place called the Aegean Resort.” “Eighty miles away from here.” Mike’s expression changed instantly. He stared at his wife in disbelief. Harper avoided his eyes, not daring to look at him or me. She was still trying to make a desperate excuse. “That’s a misunderstanding!” “Chloe’s… her GPS must be broken!” “GPS is broken?” My smile grew colder. “Then is my car’s GPS broken too?” On the other end of the line, Chloe heard everything. “What do you want?!” “I’m just at a rest stop! My car broke down! I’m alone and terrified!” “Unlock my car right now!” “Sure.” “Tell me the name of the rest stop you’re at.” “I’ll drive over right now.” “And I’ll bring your best friend and her husband with me. We can all pick you up together.”

As soon as those words left my mouth, Chloe completely broke down on the phone. “Don’t you dare!” “If you bring them here, we are done!” “We were done a long time ago,” I replied flatly. “The very moment you pushed that passenger seat all the way back.” With that, I hung up. I put my phone in my pocket and looked at the terrified Mike and Harper. Mike’s lips trembled. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know where to start. This honest, hardworking man was watching his entire world crumble before his eyes. And Harper was clutching his arm tightly. “Adam, let me explain!” “It’s not what you think! It’s really not!” I had no interest in her explanations. I had already achieved my goal. I looked at Mike. “Now, I have two options.” “First, I drive to that resort alone.” “Second, we go together.” “I suggest the second option,” I added. “Because my car is equipped with a 360-degree dashcam. High-definition night vision, interior and exterior, with audio recording.” “I’m worried the footage might be too wild for me to enjoy alone.” Mike’s body shuddered. He wasn’t stupid. He understood. He took a deep breath, as if making a final decision. Slowly, he pried Harper’s fingers off his arm. His voice was terrifyingly raspy. “Get dressed,” he told Harper. “We are going together.” Harper’s eyes were filled with pure despair. She started crying and begging. “Adam, please don’t do this, I beg you!” “It’s all a misunderstanding! Believe me!” “If you go, our marriage is over!” “Go change your clothes. Now!” Mike’s voice suddenly boomed, filled with an authority I had never heard from him before. In all the years I had known him, this was the first time I had ever seen him angry. Harper was stunned into silence. Her cries choked back in her throat. Looking at her husband’s icy glare, she knew there was no turning back. Like a lost soul, she stumbled into the bedroom. I watched all of this quietly. There was no joy in my heart. Only a barren, freezing emptiness. The destruction of a marriage was playing out right in front of me. And I was the one who had handed over the sledgehammer. A few minutes later, Harper walked out in regular clothes. Her face was stained with tears, and her hair was a mess. Mike grabbed his car keys and looked at me. “Let’s go.”

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