Category: English

As I neared my due date, my husband suddenly knelt down beside my hospital bed: “Evelyn, I’ve told you three lies. I need to come clean.” Cold sweat poured down my face from the pain, and I gripped the sheets tightly: “Wait until after I give birth!” But he continued regardless: “I’m sorry. When we did IVF, I switched your eggs with my first love’s. She has a heart condition and pregnancy would be too risky for her, so I had to borrow your womb.” The pain was so intense I couldn’t speak. He stared at me, completely indifferent to the possibility that I might have an emotional breakdown or even die from complications. Then he begged with fake sincerity: “For the sake of our three years of marriage, you’ll risk your life to deliver this baby, right?” Meeting his calculating, triumphant gaze. I laughed: “That’s it?” My relaxed response stunned Nathan Cooper. He clearly hadn’t expected me to remain so calm after learning the child in my belly was the bastard of his mistress. He froze for a few seconds, then quickly put on a pained expression. “Evelyn, I know you must be devastated right now. But the baby’s about to be born. You wouldn’t have the heart to end a little life, would you?” A cold smile tugged at my lips. “Nathan Cooper, why did you choose this exact moment to tell me?” I watched his face gradually pale, my voice growing icier. “Because you know very well that inducing labor now would be a life-threatening risk for both me and the baby.” “That’s why you dare to tell me the truth so brazenly.” “This isn’t a confession. You’re threatening me!” Nathan’s thoughts exposed, panic flashed in his eyes. But more than that, he was furious with embarrassment. “Evelyn Hart, how can you be so cold-blooded and selfish? Giving birth is giving birth, regardless of whose child it is!” “I’m giving you a chance to experience motherhood!” “Not only are you ungrateful, but you’re nitpicking about everything. This is completely unreasonable!” Fury turned to laughter. I gathered all my strength and slapped him across the face. Nathan’s face whipped to the side, five bright red fingerprints appearing on his cheek. The sudden emotional surge caused sharp, stabbing pain in my abdomen. Cold sweat instantly soaked through my back. I pressed the call button at the bedside through gritted teeth. “Get Diana Monroe here now. She’s my attending physician!” Diana Monroe was the head obstetrician. She was also the impoverished student I’d sponsored for ten years. Even my parents treated her like a daughter. “My stomach hurts so much. Diana, give me an epidural…” The pain made it nearly impossible to form complete sentences. Diana rushed in wearing her white coat. But her gaze immediately landed on Nathan’s swollen cheek, and her expression turned cold: “Evelyn, you shouldn’t have hit him!” The pain made my vision darken. I almost thought I was hallucinating. “He already confessed everything to you, what more do you want? All you ever do is focus on the company. You’ve never fulfilled your responsibilities as a wife.” She got more worked up as she continued. “Evelyn, you’ve had everything since birth. Now you won’t even help a poor woman with a heart condition fulfill her dream of becoming a mother? Are you really that unwilling? When did you become such a selfish, heartless woman?” “Now Nathan has gone through so much trouble to let you experience the joy of motherhood, and you respond with such jealousy.” I watched her defend Nathan and suddenly understood. “So, the Hart family sponsored you for ten years. This is how you repay me? By being a mistress and stealing my husband?”

Diana’s expression changed. “Diana is not that kind of person!” Nathan pulled Diana protectively behind him, as if afraid I, a woman in labor, might lunge at her. He bellowed with his neck stretched out. “That’s right! This is the second secret I need to tell you. My first love is Diana!” I coldly glanced at their tightly clasped hands. The timid little girl from back then now wore delicate makeup and carried a designer bag worth hundreds of thousands. She had completely transformed. “When you were fifteen, walking barefoot in the snow picking through trash, I took off my brand-new limited edition sneakers and gave them to you. I brought you back to the Hart house.” “Later, when you got into medical school, the Hart family paid for all eight years of tuition and living expenses.” “After graduation, you said you wanted to work at this hospital. I personally spoke to the director and got you fast-tracked through the interview. You became the youngest attending physician at this hospital.” “Our whole family treated you so well. Is this how you repay us?” I looked down at Nathan like I was watching a clown. “If you wanted a man like Nathan, you could have just told me. I would have given him to you directly.” Diana bit her lower lip, her eyes flickering. But Nathan completely lost it. “There it is again! That condescending attitude! Acting like you’re above everyone, like nothing matters to you!” “Do you know that’s what I hate most about you!” He began venting his rage frantically: “Do you know why I chose Diana over you?” “Because she understands me. She knows how hard I worked to climb from being a poor kid to my position as a manager today! She cares about me and admires me!” “But in your eyes and your family’s eyes, my achievements are just a joke, aren’t they?” “My monthly salary is fifty thousand dollars, but that’s not even enough to cover the pocket money your parents give you for buying handbags! A single painting you casually bid on at auction costs more than several years of my hard work!” “You spend money like water, buying useless luxury goods. Look at Diana—she’s so thrifty and frugal. She’s the kind of good woman who can share hardships with me!” He spoke as if every word was torn from his bleeding heart, as if he were the victim who had been wronged and looked down upon. Diana’s eyes reddened as she spoke pitifully. “Evelyn, I’m sorry. Nathan and I grew up in the same village. We knew each other before you did. When you think about it, I’m not the third party.” The implication was that I was the one who had interfered with their true love. “Are you done?” I spoke calmly. Turning to my secretary, I issued clear instructions. “First, notify HR to fire Nathan Cooper and Diana Monroe immediately.” “Second, notify the hospital director to come and replace the attending physician immediately.” This top-tier private maternity hospital was a property under Hart Group. The Hart family held one hundred percent of the shares. Here, I had absolute authority. Secretary Klein stood in place and didn’t immediately execute the order as usual. He stammered and lowered his head. “Miss Hart… you, you no longer have that authority.”

I frowned slightly. Nathan couldn’t hide the smile on his face. He pulled out a document triumphantly. “Evelyn, you forgot—you already ‘voluntarily’ transferred the company to me.” It was the latest Hart Group personnel change notice, written clearly: “I, Evelyn Hart, due to personal health reasons, voluntarily resign from my position as heir to the company and all board positions, and unconditionally gift all shares and assets under my name to my husband, Mr. Nathan Cooper.” At the signature line was my own handwriting. I suddenly remembered. Three days ago, Nathan had come to me with a document, excitedly telling me. He’d pulled strings to secure a spot at the most prestigious postpartum care center in the city. The environment and services were top-notch—all I needed to do was sign the confirmation in person. At the time, I was irritable from late-pregnancy pelvic pain and signed that thick stack of documents without looking carefully. Turns out, this Property Transfer and Gift Agreement had been hidden among those postpartum center admission forms. All the shares, properties, and funds under my name had been transferred to Nathan in that moment. He turned around with the bearing of someone in power. “Secretary Klein, since Miss Hart is no longer in control of the company.” “As the new director of Hart Group, I officially appoint Ms. Diana Monroe as the new director of this hospital. Draft an appointment notice immediately.” Undisguised ecstasy appeared on Diana’s face. “Thank you, honey.” Klein looked at me helplessly. Just then, a figure hurried down the corridor—Director Wilson, who should have been in his office. He was drenched in sweat, looking panicked. “Miss Hart, we have an emergency!” “An elderly couple who suffered a serious car accident was sent to the ER. The entire car was totaled. When they arrived, they were barely recognizable, with multiple organ ruptures!” “The traffic police confirmed the license plate number.” “It’s V08801!” My heart seized. That was my parents’ exclusive vehicle. Director Wilson’s voice trembled: “The victims lost too much blood. We urgently need to request blood of the same type from the military blood bank! But activating the emergency rescue helicopter requires… requires board-level approval!” I immediately caught the key point. “When were they brought in?” “It was… around 10 AM yesterday morning.” Yesterday morning at 10 AM. It had been a full twenty-four hours. My gaze was sharp as a knife: “The first rule of employee orientation: memorize all license plate numbers and personnel names under the Hart family to ensure immediate rescue operations can begin!” “Twenty-four hours have passed. Why didn’t anyone report this to me?” Director Wilson instinctively looked at Nathan before stammering: “The hospital has already issued three critical condition notices.” “Mr. Cooper said you were about to give birth and shouldn’t be disturbed with such matters.” I turned my head. My gaze stabbed into Nathan like a knife. This was the third catastrophic wrong Nathan had to confess to me. He didn’t just want my child and my assets. He wanted my parents’ lives. “Yes, I admit it.” Meeting my icy gaze, Nathan not only showed no guilt but smiled. “Evelyn, I was doing this for your own good. Look, you’re about to give birth. How could I dare upset you with bad news? What if your emotions affected the baby?” “So you just watched them die?” My voice was hoarse. “Nathan Cooper, you want to wipe out my entire family.”

Seeing that I’d laid it all out, Nathan stopped pretending. “So what if I do?” “I’m now the new director of the company with absolute decision-making power.” He turned to Director Wilson, his tone horrifyingly cold. “I refuse to approve the use of the rescue helicopter.” “There’s no need to waste the company’s precious medical resources on two old people with one foot in the grave.” He looked down at me, his eyes full of vengeful pleasure. “All these years I’ve been like a slave in your Hart family, suffering endless humiliation. I put up with your spoiled princess temper.” “But those two old fools were always guarding against me. Even though you’re their only daughter, they refused to hand over the company and made me some bullshit manager!” “They thought they were so high and mighty, but deep down they just looked down on someone from the bottom like me!” He grew more excited, his face twisted. “But now, isn’t their precious daughter being played by me? Their lives are in my hands too!” “I want to see if you, with your untouchable heiress act, can really stay this calm!” Diana also stepped forward, her face full of malice. “Why should you be born into wealth and luxury? Nathan and I had to endure poverty from childhood? This society is so unfair! But it doesn’t matter—now Nathan has corrected God’s mistake.” She smugly touched her flat stomach. “I can’t be the heir to a fortune. But I can spend the rest of my life as a wealthy wife. From now on, everything you enjoyed will be mine!” Nathan pulled out a document—a Waiver of Parental Rights Agreement. He shoved a pen into my hand. “Sign it.” “Then cooperate with Diana and deliver this baby safely.” “For the sake of our three years of marriage, I’m still willing to pay for that top postpartum care center.” “At least you won’t end up on the streets right after giving birth.” All the nurses and doctors in the hallway looked at me with sympathy. My baby had been switched, my family fortune had been hollowed out, and now even my parents’ lives were in danger. I must be completely broken, ready to kneel and beg them. But I just smiled. “That’s it?” Nathan’s first reaction was to turn to Diana: “Can a mentally unstable pregnant woman still give birth?” Diana frowned too: “If we have to, we’ll do a forced C-section. If she dies, she can only blame her bad luck.” They thought I’d been driven insane. I watched them sing their duet and smiled. “Do you think I’m completely powerless now?” Diana raised an eyebrow mockingly: “Evelyn Hart, stop posturing. You’re facing death and still talking tough!” My gaze was piercing: “I was going to keep it from you forever, but since you’ve confessed everything, I’ll return the favor with three confessions of my own. This is the first!” Before I finished speaking, a man entered holding a document folder. The man handed the documents to me respectfully: “Miss Hart, here are the rush amniocentesis results you requested.” “DNA paternity test shows 99.9% similarity. There is a clear biological mother-child relationship between the fetus and Evelyn Hart!” “Impossible!” Nathan snatched the report, staring at it with wide eyes. Diana leaned over too, the color draining completely from her face. “How is this possible? Nathan, you said…” Nathan screamed hysterically, “When we did IVF, I personally bribed the lab staff! I watched them replace your eggs with Diana’s with my own eyes! How can this child be yours!” Nathan stood frozen as if struck by lightning. I watched his breakdown and dropped another bombshell. “Not only did I use my own eggs, I didn’t even use your sperm.” “What?!”

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I hid the pregnancy test — two clear lines — inside a cake, planning to surprise Ethan on his birthday. Then he suddenly said, “I slept with Natalie.” He pointed at the hot soup I’d just made, his smile cruel: “Last week she fed me from this same bowl. Her tongue was so skilled, I couldn’t hold back. So I fucked her.” Betrayed. Again. I stood there frozen, too numb with pain to make a sound. Ethan just smiled brighter: “I finally understand Lucas now. Natalie really does know how to please a man better than you.” Lucas was my ex-boyfriend. Natalie was my former stepsister. Five years ago, those two drove me to attempt suicide with photos of them in bed together. When I’d lost all hope, Ethan appeared and saved me. But now, he’d betrayed me for the same person. I’d been secretly making prenatal supplements for him, lying that it was just health tonic. He never called me out on it. I thought he didn’t know. After a long silence, I finally found my voice, trembling: “Why?” Why betray me and still let me make medicine for him every day? Ethan looked at me and suddenly laughed loudly: “Claire, you lost.” He pulled out his phone and put it on speaker. Natalie’s voice poured out, sickeningly sweet: “Ethan, did it work?” “It worked. You guessed right — she only asked why.” Ethan leaned back on the sofa, the exact same posture Lucas used five years ago. “Natalie and I made a bet about how you’d react. She bet you’d slap me. I bet you’d just cry.” He paused, smug and vicious: “I won.” Natalie laughed on the other end: “Five years later, and she still just asks ‘why’ when someone fucks her husband.” In a daze, I was back five years ago. That year I came home early to surprise Lucas on his birthday. I pushed open the door to find Natalie straddling Lucas. They didn’t even bother to cover up. Seeing me, Natalie panicked for just a moment. Lucas leaned against the headboard and lit a cigarette: “Claire’s home early. Your sister Natalie just turned eighteen, so I’m breaking her in for you.” I grabbed the vase from the table to throw it, but my wrist went limp like the bones had been pulled out. The vase slipped and shattered at my feet. I only asked why. Natalie shoved her phone in my face. It was full of photos of her and Lucas — the earliest one dated three months before Lucas and I got together. “Claire, you’re the one who stole someone else’s boyfriend.” That night, Natalie sent the photos to all my classmates. My phone rang all night with messages full of abuse. I turned it off and stood on the rooftop until dawn. The next day, Ethan grabbed my hand. The day after that, he was drenched in sweat, like he’d run a long way. He said, don’t die for people who aren’t worth it. Come with me. So I went with him. But five years later, today, the person who pulled me down from that rooftop had personally pushed me back up there. “Alright Natalie, stop provoking her. See you tonight.” Ethan hung up. He grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. As he passed the coffee table, his steps slowed for half a beat. But only half a beat. “I’m picking up Natalie. Move your stuff to the guest room. You don’t have a place here anymore.” The door closed. In the living room, the cake read “Happy 30th Birthday” in frosting I’d spent two hours piping. Next to it, a blue gift box held the photo of the pregnancy test. Two lines. I’d planned to wait until after he blew out the candles to tell him we were having a baby. That baby was four weeks old.

After Ethan left, I stared at the cake for a long time. Then I started packing. ID card, prenatal checkup report, my mother’s photo. I shoved them into my bag, my hands shaking so badly it took three tries to zip it closed. Ethan came back faster than I expected. He looked at the bag in my hand and sneered: “Running away? Where would you even go?” “Divorce.” I used all my strength to say that word. He didn’t answer, just walked over and pulled the bag from my hands. When he found the prenatal report, his hand paused for a moment. Very brief, so brief it seemed like I’d imagined it. Then he threw the bag on the floor. “Divorce?” He looked down at me like he’d heard a joke. “Claire, if you’d chosen me first, I probably would have treasured you for life.” His tone was flat, like he was talking about someone else. “But who did you choose? You chose Lucas.” “When you were with him, you could kneel in the rain all night. You could fight and make up laughing the next day.” “What about with me?” “You speak quietly, walk around me carefully, don’t even dare make prenatal supplements in front of me.” “Claire, who are you living with? You’re living with a stranger.” “You think that’s love?” Ethan lowered his head, almost touching my face: “That’s charity.” “Was saving me charity too?” I raised my head. “Five years ago you grabbed me on that rooftop and said you’d be good to me forever. Was that pity too?” His expression flickered, then hardened. “Yes. That was pity.” He stepped back, his eyes full of gloom. “The pot you used to make prenatal supplements — it’s the same one you used to make soup for Lucas. You forgot, didn’t you? Natalie remembers.” That was the only thing my mother left behind. When I moved, I only brought that pot. I used it for Lucas because it was all I had. I used it for Ethan for the same reason. “It’s not the same… that was my mom’s…” “Enough.” Ethan pulled open the front door. Outside, a storm was starting. He grabbed my arm and pushed me out. As I passed the shoe cabinet, my shin hit the corner and I bent over in pain. “Ethan, I’m pregnant.” The moment those words left my mouth, his hand did pause for a moment. One second. Then the door closed behind me. I pounded on the door a few times. No one answered. I heard the lock turn from inside. My phone buzzed. All my bank accounts were frozen. Outside the door was the yard. Rain pounded against my body, soaking through my pajamas until they stuck to my skin. I don’t know how long it was before a cramping pain shot through my lower abdomen. A dark stain spread across my pajama pants. I couldn’t lose this baby. I bent over, supporting myself against the wall, moving step by step back toward the door. The spare key under the flowerpot should still be there.

When I pushed open the door, the entryway light was on. From the yard to the door was only twenty steps. It took me ten minutes. With every step, the blood between my legs increased. As I crouched down to reach for the spare key, my vision went dark. A pair of red-soled high heels appeared on the ground, pointed toward the door. In the living room, Natalie was wearing my pajamas, sitting cross-legged next to Ethan. On the coffee table sat half a glass of red wine and a pregnancy test broken in two. The two lines were still clearly visible. The cake I’d made was half-eaten, the fork still stuck in it. The candles were broken, thrown in the ashtray. The family photo on the cabinet was face down, the frame turned over. Natalie saw me come in and laughed behind her hand: “Claire’s back? I thought you’d left. Ethan said you’re really good at running away.” I ignored her, my gaze fixed on the broken pregnancy test. I’d hidden that in a secret compartment in the closet. Natalie followed my line of sight and tilted her head: “Oh that? I accidentally broke it when I was changing clothes.” She turned to Ethan, eyes wide: “Ethan, Claire’s not really pregnant, is she?” Ethan leaned back on the sofa, not looking at me. Frosting from the cake was smeared at the corner of his mouth. “I told you not to touch her things.” His tone didn’t sound protective, more annoyed. “It doesn’t matter if she is.” Natalie smiled and rubbed her flat stomach. “The only children in this house will be mine and Ethan’s anyway.” She stood up and walked toward me, stopping half a step away, looking down at my legs. The dark stain spreading across my pants had been scattered by the rain, but the traces were clear. “Claire, you’re bleeding.” Her voice was soft. I bent over and retched violently. Nothing came out except acid and bitterness — the taste of prenatal medicine. Natalie stepped back, her face wrinkled with disgust. There was a sound from the sofa. Ethan stood up and took half a step toward me. Then stopped. Natalie grabbed his arm: “Ethan, she’s so filthy.” Ethan looked down at me, his lips moved, but no sound came out. I knelt on the floor and wiped my mouth. As I stood up, he spoke. “You think we’re disgusting?” His voice was cold. “Then tonight you can listen carefully to who’s really disgusting.” He pulled Natalie toward the stairs. As they passed, Natalie stepped on the broken pregnancy test. As she went upstairs, she laughed: “Ethan, let’s sleep in her bed tonight, okay?” Ethan didn’t refuse. The master bedroom door closed. I knelt in the living room, vomit in front of me, rain and blood on my body, the pregnancy test crushed to pieces before me. The first laugh came from upstairs. Then footsteps. Ethan came back downstairs and grabbed me by the collar, hauling me up. “Since you like kneeling so much, come kneel and listen upstairs.”

As Ethan dragged me upstairs, my knees knocked against every step with a sound. Passing the master bedroom, his steps paused. Then he kicked open the storage room door next to it and shoved me inside. “Ethan –” I reached out to stop him. The door closed. The lock turned. The storage room was small, filled with a few dusty cardboard boxes and a folding chair. No light. The only source was a half-open window in the corner, moonlight streaming in, illuminating floating dust. Through the wall, Natalie’s voice came first: “Ethan, is she right next door?” Ethan’s voice came through muffled: “Don’t worry about her.” Natalie laughed: “Good. Let her listen carefully to who really knows how to please you.” I hit the wall a few times. Next door went quiet for a second or two. Then Natalie laughed: “Ethan, Claire’s keeping time for us.” I covered my ears. But the sounds still leaked through. Laughter, gasping, the dull sound of the bed frame being pressed. Ethan’s hands that once put fever patches on me were now touching someone else through the wall. He who once told me “don’t die for people who aren’t worth it” was now calling another woman’s name. The cramping in my lower abdomen grew stronger with each wave. I curled up in the corner, hand pressed to my stomach, the sticky area under my clothes still spreading. I searched my pockets and only found a crumpled prenatal report. Ethan had pulled it from my bag and thrown it on the ground. I’d picked it up again when I left. I couldn’t make out the words in the darkness. But that line — “intrauterine early pregnancy, approximately four weeks” — I’d already memorized. Four weeks. That’s when the heart just starts to beat. Next door went quiet for a while. Then Natalie’s voice came lazily, like she was deliberately speaking for me to hear: “Ethan, after this is over, should I have your baby?” “Mm.” “Let’s clean out that storage room next door for a nursery.” “Okay.” “What about Claire?” “She can stay if she wants. If she can’t take it, she can leave on her own.” Natalie laughed: “You’re so good to me, Ethan.” Next door went silent again. I released my hand. My fingertips were covered in sweat. My lower abdomen didn’t hurt as much anymore. Looking down at the dark stain on my pants, I couldn’t tell if it was red or black in the moonlight, but the area had grown larger than before. The baby might already be gone. I turned my head toward the window. It was raining outside, hitting the windowsill, a few drops splashing in and landing on the back of my hand. Cold. Just as cold as standing on that rooftop five years ago. That time Ethan had grabbed my hand. I looked at the tightly closed door. No footsteps behind it. No one was coming. I braced myself against the wall and stood up, something warm trickling down my knee. Three floors outside the window. Not very high. But enough. I climbed onto the windowsill. Rain hit my face. Next door came Natalie’s blurred sleep talk, Ethan’s even breathing coming through the wall. They were both asleep. I could sleep forever too…

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In my fifth year with Luca Greene, his book became a hit. I thought I’d finally weathered the storm and could enter marriage with him. But the night before we were supposed to register our marriage, Luca confessed to me. “The prototype for this book is my first love, Zoe.” “I didn’t want her to suffer with me, so I convinced her to study abroad. Then I felt lonely and chose you as a substitute since you looked eighty percent like her.” My hand froze while ironing a shirt. I looked at Luca in disbelief, my voice trembling. “Why are you telling me this now?” Luca smiled, acting like nothing was wrong. “I’ve treated you well these past years. Zoe is different—she’s suffered so much abroad.” “As compensation and to make up for her regrets, I registered our marriage with her yesterday. But don’t worry, I’ll definitely marry you in a year.” Luca spoke seriously, but he’d forgotten—I have a thing about cleanliness. In life, and in relationships too. I couldn’t snap out of it for a long time. I didn’t even notice when my arm got burned and the skin peeled off. Instead, Luca frowned, pulled me to sit on the sofa, and applied medicine to my wound. His tone was full of concern, as if the conversation we’d just had was an illusion. “How can you be so careless? You burned yourself just ironing a shirt.” I’d gotten hurt often over these five years. Luca had done this many times. Each time, my heart would warm. But this time, I couldn’t help wanting to cry. I clenched my teeth to keep the tears from falling, but my voice still carried a sob. “Luca, doesn’t it disgust you to spend five years facing a fake?” Luca’s face darkened. “Riley, don’t talk about yourself like that.” He was too calm. I couldn’t hold back and threw the medicine box, screaming. “Isn’t it you who made me like this?!” My chest heaved continuously. Luca sighed, picked up the scattered medicine from the floor, and spoke softly. “I know this is hard for you to accept right now, but we’ve been together for five years. There’s no need to deny everything over this little thing.” As he spoke, Luca patted my head. I felt dazed, as if transported back to the day he confessed to me. Back then, my mom had been hospitalized with a heart attack. To make money, I went to work selling drinks at a bar. Once, by accident, I spilled drinks all over the floor and dirtied a customer’s shoes. The people with him started jeering. “Those shoes cost a million. Is the pretty lady going to pay up, or sleep with our buddy William for a few nights?” “I recommend the latter—better deal, haha!” “Right, William’s not bad-looking either.” I backed away in fear. That’s when Luca appeared. Seeing me, he froze for a moment, then helped me out. “Didn’t you say we were celebrating my birthday? Let’s go inside. Stop giving the poor girl a hard time.” He was William’s childhood friend. Even though he’d broken ties with the Greene family to pursue his writing dream, no one dared say anything. The group left. Soon after, someone brought me a Band-Aid. It was arranged by Luca. After that, I kept running into Luca at the bar. He’d keep an eye on where I was, have his friends buy drinks from me. Even when customers took their frustrations out on me, he’d shield me with his body. He got a broken rib protecting me. I cried my eyes out. “Why are you so good to me? How am I supposed to repay you?!” Luca tucked my tear-soaked hair behind my ear and said with a smile. “If you don’t know how to repay me, how about you give yourself to me?” I stood there stunned. Luca’s expression turned serious. “Riley, I’m being serious.” “Will you be my girlfriend?” It would be a lie to say I wasn’t moved. So much so that all these years, I’d thought Luca was heaven’s gift to me. I never imagined it was all a scam from the very beginning. Tears spilled from the corners of my eyes against my will. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him, but my voice was exceptionally firm. “Luca, let’s break up.”

The moment the words left my mouth, Luca’s phone rang. He glanced at it, his tone casual, as if he didn’t care at all. “I’ll just assume you’re upset and saying things you don’t mean. As long as you behave this year, you’ll get everything that’s supposed to be yours.” “I’m going to Zoe’s welcome back party first. Stay home and think it over.” The instant the door closed, my emotions collapsed. I smashed the only photo of Luca and me together. My suddenly bright phone screen caught my attention. It was a link from my best friend. Luca’s book had become popular, and he’d been exposed to the public along with it. These past few days, she’d sent me plenty of videos related to Luca. But this time, seeing the text she sent, I froze for a long moment. \[Your early photos with Luca have been dug up.\] In truth, Luca had never publicly acknowledged my existence. Every time I brought it up, Luca would use the excuse that he didn’t want his private life to receive too much attention. So I’d followed Luca for five years without any recognition or status. Even though I already had a suspicion in my heart, when I clicked the link, my heart felt like it had been pricked by a needle. In the link was a screenshot from a five-year-old street view map. The subjects in the image were Luca and “me.” Same height, similar build from behind. If I hadn’t learned the truth about being a substitute today. I might have thought I’d lost a chunk of my memory. But Luca would never crouch down to tie my shoelaces. In the five years we’d been together, Luca and I had done everything couples do. Everything except him bending down to tie my shoes. I couldn’t count how many times I’d wanted Luca to help me tie them. But every single time, it ended in vain. Even when my stomach hurt so badly my face turned pale, Luca remained unmoved by my request to tie my shoes. What I got was impatience. “I don’t like tying people’s shoelaces. Can you stop forcing me?” I remember that day—I cried like a child. Later, Luca coaxed me for a long time. I thought I’d forgotten. I didn’t expect that three years later, this memory would still be so clear. So clear that seeing this scene made my eyes involuntarily sting with tears. So it wasn’t that he didn’t like it—it was just that the person wasn’t me.

I don’t know how long I stared at that photo. Long enough that Luca came in with a “drunk” Zoe Adams, and only then did I snap back to reality. Seeing I was still awake, Luca paused, then explained. “Zoe got drunk. She lives alone with no one to take care of her.” I should have cried. I should have made a scene. But I knew clearly it wouldn’t help. Luca didn’t love me. With that thought, I stepped aside to let Luca pass. Luca raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Good that you’ve thought it through. I haven’t treated you badly.” “Besides, without me, you can’t afford your mom’s medical bills at all.” I didn’t respond, just let Luca carry Zoe upstairs and completely ignored the provocative look Zoe shot me. But when I returned to the bedroom and saw the pajamas Zoe was wearing, I lost all reason. I rushed forward, trying to pull the clothes off her. The moment I touched Zoe, she screamed, “Ah! You’re hurting me!” The next second, Luca emerged from the bathroom and shoved me away. The force was too strong. I crashed into the corner of a table. In my ear was Luca’s interrogation. “Riley, have you lost your mind?” I shakily got up, for once talking back. “Shouldn’t that question be directed at you?” “You know perfectly well this pajama set was handmade by my mom. She’s being kept alive by medical equipment right now. How could you let another woman wear it?!” Luca’s movements froze, as if he’d finally realized. But he didn’t back down. He shielded Zoe behind him and said in a deep voice, “Even so, you shouldn’t have gotten physical! Apologize to Zoe!” My voice choked. “She’s the one who did wrong. Why should I apologize?” Luca laughed coldly. “Fine. Keep acting tough if you’ve got the guts. Just don’t regret it!” With that, he turned to look at Zoe, his voice carrying a tenderness he’d never shown me. “Change back into your own clothes. I’ll take you to the hospital.” Zoe nodded, giving me a provocative look before leaving. I hadn’t wanted to cry. But the contrast was too great. The grievance pressed down on me until I couldn’t breathe. Blood from the wound on my forehead slid down my cheek. My phone lit up with a familiar message. —\[My promise to repay you still stands. As long as you’re willing, I’ll marry you.\] I’d refused countless times before, but I didn’t want to wait for Luca anymore. I’d waited five years for him. How many five-year spans does a person get in one lifetime? I finally made up my mind to reply. —\[I’ll marry you. Start preparing.\]

But I never imagined Luca’s punishment would come so quickly. The next day when I went downstairs, I was tied to a chair by two bodyguards. Placed in front of me were countless bottles of alcohol. My heart tightened as I looked at Luca sitting on the sofa. “What are you doing?” Luca smiled and pointed at Zoe nearby. “I told you—if you’ve got the guts, keep acting tough.” The punishment for not apologizing. Realizing this, my mind exploded with a roar, as if something had detonated inside. I shook my head frantically. “Luca, you can’t do this to me. I can’t drink alcohol!” Hesitation flashed in Luca’s eyes. Zoe saw it. She looked at Luca with reddened eyes. “If she doesn’t want to apologize, forget it. I’m fine.” Luca frowned slightly. “I promised I wouldn’t let you suffer any grievances.” With that, Luca looked at me again. He smiled. “Didn’t you used to sell drinks at a bar? How could you not be able to drink?” “Since you won’t apologize, you’ll just have to take your punishment.” My heart went cold. It seemed Luca had truly forgotten—my stomach was ruined from drinking for him. Back then, the Greene family sent people to the bar to make things difficult for him. Knowing he was allergic to alcohol, they still made him drink ten bottles of liquor before he could leave. I drank bottle after bottle for him. By the end, I lost consciousness and was rushed to the hospital. When I woke up, Luca was keeping watch beside me. He held my hand, saying sorry over and over. “The doctor said your stomach can never handle alcohol again. Let’s quit this job, okay?” “From now on, I’ll support you and take good care of your stomach.” Luca spoke with such devotion. I was happy he could keep doing what he loved. Time passed. It had only been four years, and Luca had forgotten. I suddenly felt sorry for my past self. The bodyguard’s action of forcing alcohol down my throat pulled me back to the present. I struggled, but no matter how much I resisted, the alcohol still went down my throat. It made me cough violently. Luca’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched tight. He reminded me, “As long as you apologize to Zoe, I’m not unwilling to let you off.”

I didn’t back down. I forced myself to speak. “What did I do wrong?” “You’re the one who’s wrong! You two are wrong!” Seeing I still wouldn’t give in, Luca waved his hand to continue. The alcohol entered my stomach, bringing a burning pain. I bit down hard, refusing to make a sound. But the next second, my phone rang. It was the caregiver calling. The caregiver never called me without reason. Every time, it was because my mom had been sent into the operating room. At this thought, panic seized me. I sobbed and shouted, “Luca, I apologize! I was wrong!” “I was wrong. I’ll never lay a hand on Zoe again. Let me go.” Luca looked somewhat surprised, but he still sneered. “Riley, an apology needs sincerity. I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” The bodyguard perceptively released me. I couldn’t care about anything else. I dropped to my knees and slid toward Zoe. With a look of surprise on her face, I bowed my head repeatedly. “Zoe, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have laid hands on you.” “I’m begging for your forgiveness. I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” I prostrated myself again and again, but Luca never relented. “I told you—as long as you behave, I’ll give you whatever you want.” “I’ll let it go this time. Be good from now on.” But I couldn’t care about Luca. I pushed him away and stumbled outside. Luca chased after me, his voice panicked. “Riley, where are you going?!” I didn’t respond. I flagged down a car and headed to the hospital. The whole way, I kept praying. I reached the operating room just as the doors opened. The doctor looked at me and shook his head, giving a different result for the first time. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could.” I collapsed to the floor, my mind buzzing. Luca, who’d chased after me, also heard those words. His face instantly turned deathly pale. Realizing what he’d just done, Luca panicked. He stepped forward, wanting to say something. A fist suddenly came down. “Get away from her! Don’t touch her!”

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After discovering my CEO husband can’t let go of his divorced single-mother ex, I started teaching our son to call him “uncle.” When our son had a fever and his ex called him away in the middle of the night, I touched our son’s burning forehead and had him say “goodbye, uncle.” When he promised to attend our son’s parent-teacher conference but his ex called crying about how her son had no father to accompany him, my husband left without a second thought. I didn’t even look up. I handed our son my phone and had him send the teacher an excuse email on behalf of “uncle.” Every time, our son hesitated for so long. Until later, when my husband finally realized what he owed us. He took the initiative to suggest we take family photos together. At the entrance of the photo studio, the ex called again, sobbing on the phone: “Evan, can you come pick up Tanner from kindergarten right now? The other kids are making fun of him for not having a dad…” Reluctance flashed across my husband’s face. He was about to crouch down and explain to our son. This time, without any prompting from me, our son waved him away. “It’s okay, uncle. You go be with your other kid. Mom and I are enough for a family photo.”

The moment our son said those words, both Evan Harrison and I froze. During the 28 days since I discovered Evan’s heart wasn’t with our family anymore, every time he abandoned me and our son because of Vivian White, I would have our son call him “uncle.” To remind both myself and our son not to be hurt by someone who wasn’t worth it. But our son didn’t see it that way. He was only seven years old, at the age when he needed his father most. Every time I asked him to say “uncle,” he would hesitate for a long time before quietly calling out the word. But today, he said it on his own. He said it smoothly and naturally, as if he’d rehearsed the word countless times in his heart. Seeing us both stunned, our son took my hand and said to Evan: “Uncle, you go ahead.” Then he looked at me. “Mom, let’s go. We’re going to be late for our appointment.” He pulled me along, step by step toward the photo studio. The family photo session was something Evan had suggested to make up for missing our son’s school event. Our son had been looking forward to it for half a month. I stiffly followed him, my heart feeling like it was being crushed by a stone, the suffocating pressure making me want to cry. I discovered Evan’s affair by accident. He went to celebrate Vivian’s child’s birthday, and when he came back, he forgot about the tickets in his pocket. Three tickets to Universal Studios. For our son’s sixth birthday, he wished for the whole family to go to Universal Studios together to see his favorite Minions. Evan thought it was childish and rejected the idea without hesitation. A few days later, though, he went with Vivian’s child. I found Vivian’s Instagram post on Evan’s phone. [The most magical place should be visited with the best dad.] The photo showed Evan and Vivian holding a child—a picture of the three of them together. Vivian was his first love, divorced with a child. That night, we had our most explosive fight. I insisted on divorce and taking our child with me. Evan accused me of being unreasonable. He asked how I could bear to let our child grow up without a father. He swore to God that he only felt sympathy for Vivian. Looking at our son’s obviously frightened face, I bit my lip until it nearly bled. I knew that if I forced our son to leave with me, he would never forget Evan. But I also knew that if it happened once, it would happen a second time, a third time. I didn’t want my child to suffer because of his so-called sympathy. So I chose another approach—I tricked Evan into signing divorce papers. Thirty days until the divorce became official. During those 30 days, if Evan came to his senses, I would pretend nothing had happened for our son’s sake. If not, I would spend those 30 days doing everything I could to help our son become “desensitized.” Today was day 28. Our son had called Evan “uncle” on his own. I felt our son’s slightly trembling body, but I wasn’t happy. It felt like a thousand needles piercing my heart. As we crossed the street, Evan finally snapped out of it. He took a few steps after us, wanting to ask our son what was going on, when Vivian called again, still with that delicate sobbing voice: “Evan, where are you? Tanner keeps crying and saying he wants his daddy. I can’t calm him down.” Evan’s steps halted. He stared at our backs, phone in hand, and replied: “Okay, I know. I’ll be right there.” After hanging up, he sent me a text saying “Let’s talk tonight,” then turned and left without hesitation. The roar of a car engine started up, then faded into the distance. Our son stopped walking and buried himself in my arms, his tears soaking my clothes. “Mom.” “Can we not have Dad anymore?”

We didn’t take the photos. I took our son straight home. I started packing. While I was booking plane tickets back to my hometown, Vivian sent me a video. The setting was another well-known photo studio in the city. Vivian and Evan were wearing matching outfits, holding a child around five years old, posing for the camera. At the end of the video, Vivian taunted me as usual. “It’s just a family photo. Evan and I can take one anytime.” If this had been before, seeing Vivian’s provocation, I definitely would have snapped back immediately. But now, watching our son carefully organizing his toys, I only had one thought: how pointless. I exited the chat and booked two tickets to Seattle for the day after tomorrow. Just after I paid, Evan came home, carrying a strawberry cake. Both our son and I stared in surprise. In the past, he hated strawberry cake the most. Because of this, even though our son inherited my crazy love for strawberries, he would only choose Evan’s favorite matcha mousse for his birthday. But today, why did he suddenly bring home a strawberry cake? Our son and I looked at each other, both finding it unbelievable. Evan slowly walked in and saw the open luggage. His expression changed slightly. “Tanner was crying so hard, I stayed with him a bit longer. On my way back, I remembered you both love strawberry cake, so I bought one.” “Why are you packing? Are you going on a trip?” I shook my head, then nodded. “I guess so.” With only two days left until the divorce became official, I didn’t want any unexpected complications. Hearing my words, Evan seemed to breathe a sigh of relief before continuing: “The photo studio called me and said you didn’t show up. I rescheduled. How about tomorrow?” “I absolutely won’t bail this time.” He crouched in front of our son and said it very seriously. Our son paused while organizing his toys, looked at him, then at me. As if he was torn, or as if he didn’t dare believe anymore. I noticed our son wavering, and my heart softened. “Okay.” It was only going to be the last time anyway. After I agreed, our son’s eyes immediately lit up. He grabbed his toys and ran into his room. After he left, I continued packing. Evan came over to me. He struggled before speaking: “By the way, about our son calling me uncle today…”

My heart skipped a beat. I looked up at him. Evan crouched down, placing the strawberry cake beside me. His voice was helpless but affectionate: “Zoe, I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m too nice to Vivian and that I’ve been neglecting you and our son.” “But I swear, I only feel sympathy for Vivian. She’s a single mom—I just don’t want her to suffer too much.” He took my hand and placed it solemnly over his heart. “Give me a little more time. I promise I’ll handle things with Vivian and her son properly. I won’t let you and our son be wronged.” I stared at him blankly. I could barely remember the last time he looked at me so seriously. Maybe it was at our wedding. In the pristine chapel, he held my hand and vowed to treat me well for the rest of his life. Or maybe it was the day our son was born. In the hospital delivery room, he carefully held our son in his arms and trembled as he kissed my forehead. Then he said: “Zoe, I will never let you or our son suffer any injustice.” Thinking about those past moments, I was silent for a long time. Finally, I decided to tell him about the divorce. “Evan, actually…” “Oh, where did you put that limited-edition LEGO set I bought for our son last time? Is it in the study cabinet? Vivian says Tanner’s really into LEGO lately. I’ll take it over for him to play with for a few days.” After speaking, Evan went to the study, found the LEGO set, grabbed his car keys, and hurried out the door. “Bang”—the door closed. Evan’s figure disappeared. I stared quietly at the door for a long time. Then I finished the sentence I hadn’t completed. “Actually, our son and I don’t need you anymore.” Only two days left until we left.

At midnight, after finally finishing all the packing, I lay exhausted in bed. My phone lit up. It was a message from Evan. [Tanner really loved the LEGO. I spent the whole evening helping him build it. Vivian specifically asked me to thank you.] At midnight, my husband was thanking me on behalf of another woman. I pulled at the corner of my mouth, too speechless to even laugh. But I was too tired to be angry. The outcome was already decided anyway. I opened the chat and casually replied: [No need to thank me. I didn’t give it to her.] [Also, that LEGO was our son’s favorite birthday present. He’s been waiting for you to have time to build it with him.] After sending that message, I turned off my phone and closed my eyes to sleep. I didn’t care about Evan on the other end, whose expression changed when he saw the message. The next morning at eight, Evan came home unusually early. He took off his coat as he entered and saw several neatly arranged suitcases in the living room. He froze in place. “Do you need to pack this much for a trip?” Without even putting down his coat, he walked to the bedroom with visible panic and asked me. I was helping our son get dressed and didn’t look back. “We’re going far.” Upon hearing this, he immediately looked at our son. Only after receiving a confirming nod did his expression relax. Then he put his coat aside and took out three Universal Studios tickets. “Haven’t you been upset that I didn’t take our son to Universal Studios?” “I bought tickets for today. The three of us can go together.” He displayed the tickets in front of me and our son like he was showing off, his face full of indulgence. For a moment, I wondered if I’d misheard something. It had been almost a month since that incident, and he was only thinking of it now? But then I thought of the string of unread messages on my phone when I woke up this morning, and I suddenly understood. So it was compensation. I didn’t say anything and continued focusing on dressing our son. But our son was incredibly excited, his eyes blinking as he stared at me. “Mom, I want to go!” My eyes curved into a smile. Before I could speak, I heard Evan stammer: “But if you want to go, there’s one condition. Vivian found out we’re taking family photos today, and she’s worried Tanner will be upset if he hears about it, so… the family photo thing… let’s do it another time.” As he said this, his expression was full of guilt. Our son froze. The smile in his eyes visibly receded bit by bit. “I see…” He slowly lowered his head and said nothing more. His eyes turned red. But Evan didn’t notice. He continued: “It’s just this one small request from Vivian. I thought about it, and it shouldn’t be a big deal.” “We’re just postponing the photos this time. There’s always next time.” “Leo, what do you say?” He didn’t know that our son and I would be leaving tomorrow. This was his last chance. But neither our son nor I said anything. We just nodded silently. “Fine.” “Okay.” Evan breathed a sigh of relief, his face visibly showing a smile, as if a weight had been lifted. “Then I’ll tell Vivian right now. Three o’clock this afternoon, meet at Universal Studios.” After speaking, he got up to leave. When he reached the door, he turned around. “Honey, Leo, you’re both so wonderful.” Our son and I didn’t say anything. After he left, our son jumped down from the bed and took out a backpack he’d prepared from the closet. “Mom, I don’t want to see uncle anymore. Can we leave early?”

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My boyfriend sent my roommate a selfie. He didn’t know that her laptop was hooked up to the big screen in the college auditorium. The entire audience got a front-row seat to the photo. My classmates told me they’d stick by my side and help me put on the ultimate revenge show. 01 For tonight’s campus talent show, I was on music duty, but my laptop suddenly died. In a panic, I sprinted back to the dorm, grabbed my roommate’s MacBook, and made a mad dash back to the auditorium. Because I had helped this roommate submit assignments before, I knew her password. Once I logged in, I saw her Mac Messages app was still open. The host was supposed to go on stage in one minute. She was giving me desperate looks, so in my frantic rush, I quickly connected the projector and loaded up the slides. Just as everything was ready and I was about to close out my roommate’s messages, a new text popped up. The sender was Carter Hayes, my boyfriend. My hand trembled, and muscle memory made me click the chat window. “When are you getting here? I’m itching to see you.” Our college wasn’t massive; everyone pretty much knew everyone. At that exact moment, the chat box was projected clearly onto the giant screen. The previously noisy, buzzing auditorium instantly went dead silent. The host stood frozen on the sidelines, completely forgetting to walk on stage. My roommate’s reply synced to the big screen in real-time. “I’ll be there soon, what’s the rush?” “I’m dying to see you, babe.” “Chloe won’t find out, right?” “Nah, she’s got her drama club performance tonight.” The entire audience turned to look at me with overwhelming pity. Pretty much everyone knew me. They knew I was Chloe, the unlucky girlfriend in question. Immediately, the laptop chimed again. Carter sent a photo. In the picture, he looked like he had just stepped out of the shower. His hair was still dripping wet, and he was flexing in the mirror with a smarmy “I know you can’t resist this” smirk on his face. On the massive projector screen, every single detail was blown up for the world to see. How should I put it… the audience’s gaze somehow grew even more pitiful. I stood completely still, a tidal wave of shock and rage rising higher and higher in my chest. Carter and I had been dating for a long time. Just last week, I went to his house for dinner and met his parents. His parents owned a small local business. To my face, they kept praising me for being smart and capable. But when his mom pulled Carter into the kitchen to whisper, I overheard her. “This Chloe girl is too ambitious. She’s got a stubborn streak. Might be hard to keep her in line later on.” It wasn’t until Carter mentioned that my family was going to buy us a house in cash that his mom’s tone finally softened: “Well, that’s good then. Just make sure your name gets put on the deed. And remember, the man is the head of the household. You have to make sure you keep her on a tight leash.” That conversation had been a thorn in my side ever since it happened. I had planned to sit down and have a serious talk with Carter about it, but I never expected he’d already be actively looking for his next target. The host standing off to the side was Zoey Miller, my absolute best friend. After a moment of silence, Zoey walked out onto the stage. She tossed her cue cards aside and brought the microphone to her lips: “First of all, thank you all for coming. “Tonight’s event was supposed to be a play carefully put together by our drama club. But given the… technical difficulties we just witnessed, I’m afraid the show can’t go on as planned.” A collective sigh of disappointment rippled through the crowd, though everyone clearly understood why. “However,” Zoey announced loudly, “we’ve just discovered that real life is way more dramatic than any script. Since you’re all here for a show, why don’t we play one out in reality?” The room was quiet for a split second before erupting into wild applause and whistles. This auditorium full of theater kids was absolutely thrilled by Zoey’s proposal. “Don’t worry, Chloe!” “We’ll help you get payback!” “Let’s play this cheating trash and his side piece!” I looked out at the crowd, the warmth in my chest evaporating the chill of betrayal. With so many people standing by my side, I realized I had nothing to be afraid of. 02 My roommate had a thing for Carter. I had sensed it for a long time. Whenever Carter and I went for a walk, we’d magically bump into her. She was always twisting her ankle or feeling faint, begging Carter to walk her to the campus clinic. Back then, Carter barely gave her the time of day. It was obvious he genuinely wasn’t interested. So why the sudden switch to acting like her absolute lapdog? My gut told me there was more to this story. I shared my suspicions with Zoey. By now, Zoey had fully embraced her role as the executive director of this revenge plot, and she immediately started giving out orders. The vanguard consisted of Carter’s three roommates. They were dispatched to gather intel. The three frat guys coordinated perfectly and quickly got results. They noticed that Fall Campus Recruiting was right around the corner, and Carter hadn’t sent out a single resume. So, two of the guys played bad cop. They relentlessly mocked Carter, saying he only ever passed his classes because his girlfriend did his homework, and since he didn’t actually know anything, he probably gave up on job hunting altogether. The third guy played good cop. When Carter was fuming mad, he dragged him out to a college bar for some beers. A few drinks in, Carter took the bait. Tipsy and visibly smug, he leaned in and bragged to his roommate: “Do you know who Mia Evans is? She’s the daughter of the CEO of Apex Innovations!” Mia Evans is my roommate. We happen to share the same last name. The roommate immediately reported this intel back to base. When Zoey and I heard the news, we looked at each other in dead silence. After a long pause, Zoey patted me heavily on the shoulder: “Chloe, Chloe, Chloe… How many times have I told you? Being low-key is fine, but being too low-key is a problem.” “Look at this! Mia isn’t just trying to steal your boyfriend, she’s trying to steal your dad!” Zoey grabbed her phone, ready to figure out a plan to publicly clarify that I was the actual daughter of the Apex Innovations CEO. I thought about it for a second, then reached out and pressed my hand over hers. “Don’t,” I said quietly. “If Mia wants to play the rich heiress so badly, let’s play along. Let’s let her really enjoy the fantasy.” Zoey froze, then caught my drift, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Damn, Chloe. You’re evil. I love it.” 03 Mia had been practically invisible for her first three years of college, but lately, she had become the hottest commodity on campus. Guys were showing up early to lecture halls just to save her a seat, hoping to chat her up between classes. Guys were sliding into her DMs, asking if she wanted to catch a movie, offering to buy the tickets in advance. She started receiving a steady stream of little gifts: anonymous flowers, surprise coffees, expensive snacks. Mia’s ego went straight to her head. She walked into the dorm carrying a massive pile of imported snacks, dropping loud hints: “Ugh, I don’t even know who keeps sending me all this. It’s so annoying, I’m going to get so fat if I eat all this.” One of our other roommates chimed in: “You can share with us! We can all get fat together.” “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly do that,” Mia flatly refused. “These are heartfelt gifts from those sweet boys. If I gave them to someone else, it would break their hearts.” I rolled my eyes so hard internally I practically saw my own brain. Back when Carter was pursuing me, he’d buy me fruit and pastries. Every single time, Mia would insist on “sharing the wealth” and snatch away a huge portion. Funny how she lacked all that empathy back then. Maybe sensing my coldness, Mia deliberately provoked me: “Sigh, Valentine’s Day is coming up. I have no idea how many gifts I’m going to get. I finally understand what a ‘sweet burden’ really is.” “Unlike some people. Even with a boyfriend, they probably won’t get a single thing.” She was clearly banking on the fact that Carter wouldn’t buy me anything, so she was preemptively rubbing it in my face. Normally, I would have clapped back immediately. But for the sake of the upcoming show, I instantly contorted my face into a look of deep, wounded insecurity. “Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I defended Carter with a pale, shaky voice. “Carter was just really stressed with midterms before, so he forgot. He’ll definitely get me something this year.” Mia laughed out loud. “Oh, really?” She was fully expecting to watch me humiliate myself. But to her shock, on Valentine’s Day, Carter actually did give me a gift. And it was way more expensive than anything he’d ever bought me. When I walked back into the dorm wearing the necklace Carter gave me, Mia’s face cycled through shades of red, white, and green. I let out a soft, internal scoff. Mia still didn’t understand men. Or at least, she didn’t understand Carter. She thought that just because they had hooked up, Carter had already chosen her over me. But Carter was far more calculating than Mia realized. Yes, Mia was supposedly the daughter of the Apex Tech CEO, but she hadn’t actually done anything concrete for his career yet. Meanwhile, I was his long-term girlfriend, practically a fiancée, and the actual local girl whose family promised to buy him a house in cash. It made no sense for him to drop me just yet. And because he felt guilty for cheating, even though he skipped gifts in the past, he made damn sure to buy me one this year. I never liked showing off my relationship, but for the sake of dramatic effect, I immediately touched the pendant, putting on my best “I’m the luckiest girl in the world” face, and gushed to the room: “I only mentioned this necklace in passing once, and Carter actually remembered!” “He went to three different mall boutiques just to find it.” My other roommates were absolute Oscar-worthy actors. Every single one of them plastered a look of pure envy on their faces. “Wow, I saw that on TikTok! It’s this year’s exclusive Valentine’s edition, right?” “That’s so expensive! But our Chloe deserves the best.” The roommate assigned to play the “mean girl” stepped up on cue. She shot a sideways glance in Mia’s direction and said snarkily: “Unlike some people, who just get bought off with cheap grocery store candy and a bag of chips.” Mia completely lost her mind. Honestly, a gift is about the thought, regardless of the price tag. But that was a concept Mia’s vanity could never grasp. Deeply stung, she practically tore the dorm door off its hinges as she stormed out. My roommates and I exchanged a look. I casually tossed Carter’s expensive necklace onto my desk, pulled out my phone, and texted Zoey: “Mia just bailed. Knowing her, she’s headed straight to Carter.” Zoey replied instantly: “Copy that!” In the ‘Revenge Alliance’ group chat, Director Zoey pinned an announcement: “Who shares a lecture with Carter right now?” Soon, the boots on the ground reported back with live intel— Carter was sitting in a lecture hall. Mia was spamming his phone with back-to-back calls. Visibly annoyed, Carter slipped out the back door and met Mia in the woods behind the science building. The very first words out of Mia’s mouth were: “Break up with Chloe.” Carter looked frustrated. “Babe, didn’t I tell you? We have to take this slow…” He had probably used that excuse a dozen times by now. Mia cut him off impatiently: “No more taking it slow. Do it tomorrow!” Carter wasn’t happy. He considered himself a big man on campus—handsome, smooth-talking, always popular with the ladies. No girl had ever ordered him around so aggressively. “Mia, you’re crossing a line,” Carter frowned. Of course, Mia wasn’t listening. She had been jealous of me for way too long. The second she thought she had the upper hand, it was ruined by Carter’s Valentine’s gift to me. This was the absolute peak of her humiliation. She had already taken the first step of lying about her identity. Now, we were guiding her right into taking the second step. And exactly as predicted, she took it. “Carter, if you don’t break up with Chloe immediately, I won’t lift a finger to help you during campus recruiting.” Carter’s eyes lit up instantly. He grabbed Mia’s hands: “You agreed to help me? You’ll talk to Mr. Evans and get me straight into the core engineering team?” Mia nodded haughtily. “Obviously. He’s my dad. It’s literally just one sentence from me.” Carter was so thrilled he picked Mia up and spun her around in circles: “Thank you, Mia. Thank you so much.” Listening to the live-streamed audio, a mocking smile crept onto my face. Thank her while you can, Carter. Because soon enough, you’ll be thanking her whole damn family. 04 The next day, Carter came over to dump me. His roommates texted our group chat, letting us know he had left the building. Zoey immediately whipped out a sliced onion and shoved it near my eyes. I was furious. “You don’t trust my crying skills?!” Zoey patted my back. “I trust you, I trust you! You’re the star of the drama club! The problem is Carter is such an idiot, I’m terrified you’ll start laughing in his face…” That made me even madder. “That still means you don’t trust my acting!!” Mid-argument, a knock sounded at the door. I opened it. Carter stood there. “Chloe.” He wore a perfectly calculated look of regret. “I’m here to break up with you.” I snapped into character in less than a second, my face falling into a mask of pure, devastated disbelief. “What? What are you saying?” Behind Carter, Zoey and my roommates were silently giving my performance a standing ovation. “I thought about it a lot, and I just don’t think we’re a good match.” I played the desperate, clinging girlfriend: “Why? We literally just met each other’s parents…” “My family doesn’t think we’re a good fit either.” Carter let out a heavy, solemn sigh. What a textbook manipulator—even while dumping me, he left a breadcrumb. “I still love you, Chloe. But I’m afraid we just don’t have a future. If we don’t end it now, it’ll only hurt more later. So I’d rather be the bad guy and do it today.” You are the bad guy, you pretentious prick. I sobbed and pleaded a bit more. Carter’s heart remained made of stone, so I finally, agonizingly, agreed. I thought he was going to leave, but then he said: “Since that’s settled, I’m going to take back the things I left with you.” He picked up the expensive necklace from my desk and asked: “Where’s the rest of it?” Oh my god. I practically barked out a laugh. This was the first time in my life I’d seen someone refer to gifts they gave as “things I left with you.” Zoey, predicting I might break character, lunged forward and grabbed my face. Her hands still had onion juice on them. The tears started flowing instantly. “Are you really not going to leave me with a single memory of us?” I wept. Seeing me cry so tragically must have softened his ego a little bit. “You can keep this one.” He picked through the pile of gifts and placed something in my hand. I looked down and almost broke character again. It was a cheap, scribbled Christmas card he gave me freshman year. Taking back the expensive jewelry and leaving me his worthless autograph? How generous. Zoey, seeing my mouth twitching into a smile, viciously wiped my face with the onion again. When Carter looked back at me, I was clutching his freshman year Christmas card, tears streaming down my face, sobbing uncontrollably. He definitely walked away thinking: Wow, this girl is so deeply in love with me. Meanwhile, I was thinking: Wow, this onion is incredibly spicy. 05 The second Carter’s footsteps faded, my roommates started tearing him apart. The group chat was blowing up with people raging on my behalf. One roommate argued that I shouldn’t have let him take the gifts back so easily. I couldn’t care less. All the gifts he ever gave me added up to barely a thousand bucks. What I saved was the million-dollar cash payment my family would have blown on his future house. Besides, I had a feeling the upcoming acts of this play would be more than enough to cover the price of admission. After dumping me, Carter’s relationship with Mia didn’t go as smoothly as he planned. Riding the high of having a roster of campus orbiters, Mia started playing hard to get. She dropped hints that she had plenty of options now and didn’t necessarily need Carter. Furious, Carter stormed back to his dorm, grabbed his roommate Liam by the collar, and screamed: “Did you leak Mia’s real identity?! Where else would all these guys be coming from?!” Liam obviously knew the exact truth, but his acting chops were top-tier. He stared back at Carter with wide, innocent eyes. “I didn’t say a damn thing! Think about it man, the source of the rumor is Mia herself. She probably told all those guys to flex on everyone!” Carter had no way to verify it, and he was terrified that pushing Liam too hard would cause him to blab to the whole campus. He just gritted his teeth: “Just keep your mouth shut.” At this point, Carter was already harboring some resentment toward Mia, feeling like she was stringing him along. But since he’d already burned the bridge with me, he swallowed his pride and resorted to aggressively sucking up to her. Carter clearly studied the rom-com male lead playbook. He brought her coffee in the morning, carried her bags in the evening, and even pulled the classic move of giving her a piggyback ride over a puddle on a rainy day. Watching this unfold with the Revenge Alliance chat, we all marveled at how deeply Carter had deluded himself into thinking he was the star of a movie. I have to admit, his handsome face was a pretty good smokescreen. After weeks of relentless rom-com stunts, Mia finally agreed to make it official. They posted a massive photo dump on Instagram to soft-launch the relationship. In every picture, Carter was smiling like he’d won the lottery. He absolutely believed his life as a wealthy, pampered son-in-law was just beginning, and every step from here on out would be bathed in gold. You’re overthinking it, Carter. Right here? This is your peak. Next up, you’re going to find out exactly how deep of a hole you’ve dug for yourself. 06 Carter submitted his resume to Apex Innovations. His interview was scheduled for a week later. That week was the absolute highlight of Mia’s life. Not only was Carter at her beck and call, but our dorm roommates—having “heard” she was the Apex heiress—seemingly betrayed me and flocked to her side. In the past, Mia’s hygiene was terrible. She’d constantly make excuses to skip chore duty, and our Neat-Freak roommate would always tear into her. But now? Neat-Freak completely ignored the mountain of Amazon boxes and takeout bags piling up on Mia’s desk. She even cooed softly: “Mia is a high-class girl. How could she possibly concern herself with trivial things like taking out the trash? Just leave it there.” In the past, Mia slept through lectures, skipped homework, and tried to get our Valedictorian roommate to help her cheat on finals. The Valedictorian used to roll her eyes and look at Mia with blatant disgust. But now? Valedictorian pulled a full 180. She practically bowed to Mia, saying: “Us try-hard scholarship kids only know how to read books. One day, we’ll all just be working for you anyway.” (In the group chat, Neat-Freak told Valedictorian she was overacting and sounded entirely too sarcastic). In the past, Mia loved playing the fragile damsel in distress. Our D1 Athlete roommate couldn’t stand it, constantly telling her to hit the gym instead of trying to fit into that toxic, stick-thin influencer vibe. But now? Athlete praised Mia’s looks daily, insisting that an heiress like Mia was supposed to be pale and fragile, and that’s exactly why boys loved her. Mia was still the exact same Mia. Not a single one of her flaws had changed. Yet, entirely because of her supposed “Dad,” everyone around her completely changed their attitude, treating her like absolute royalty. Shortcuts like that can make anyone lose their mind. Mia completely lost herself. Drowning in endless flattery, she fully sank into the role. Subconsciously, she genuinely started believing she was the daughter of the Apex Tech CEO. This delusion bled into her relationship with Carter. When he nervously asked her if he was guaranteed to pass the interview, Mia boldly declared: “My dad owns the company. You just go in there and say you’re my boyfriend. Who would dare reject you?” Carter was so ecstatic he picked her up and spun her around three times. The day of the Apex Innovations interview finally arrived. Zoey and I got there early and slipped into the building’s security room. Zoey aimed her phone at the CCTV monitors, live-streaming the feed to the group chat. Wearing a crisp, tailored suit and clutching his resume, Carter strutted up to the front desk like he owned the place. While he was signing in, a group of executives walked out from the hallway. Leading the pack was CEO Evans. He was heading out to a meeting. For context, I hadn’t formally introduced Carter to my parents yet. My dad didn’t know him from Adam. But Carter had definitely stalked the company’s website and recognized CEO Evans’s photo. Believing he was finally meeting his future father-in-law, Carter puffed out his chest, desperate to flex his “insider status.” He practically leaped forward and loudly announced: “Good morning, Uncle!” He was so loud that everyone in the lobby turned to look. Seeing the audience, Carter puffed up even more. By pure coincidence, the HR Recruiter scheduled to interview him walked out at that exact moment. Eager to show the HR rep that he had serious connections, Carter smoothly asked CEO Evans: “I hope you’ve been doing well, Uncle. We were thinking about getting together for dinner next week.” CEO Evans: “?” Carter, assuming my dad’s stunned silence was just him rushing to his meeting, quickly played the understanding son-in-law: “I see you’re busy, Uncle. We’ll chat later.” Carter gave a suave smile and turned to head toward the interview rooms. The HR Recruiter, sensing something bizarre, hurried over to my dad: “That’s the intern candidate I’m about to interview. Do you know him, sir?” CEO Evans looked baffled. “Never seen him in my life.” The Recruiter tried to jog his memory: “Based on the way he called you ‘Uncle,’ could he be Chloe’s boyfriend?” “Impossible,” CEO Evans stated flatly. “Chloe just went through a breakup.” Relieved, the HR Recruiter decided to do things strictly by the book. She would evaluate Carter based entirely on his actual merits. Walking into the conference room, the HR rep began the interview. After a few standard behavioral questions, she pivoted to the technical portion. “What is the difference between a mutex and a semaphore?” “Can you explain multi-threading programming?” “Suppose you have a single-threaded standard C application that keeps crashing, but it never crashes in the exact same place. What do you think could be causing this?” Guys, if Carter knew the answers to any of these, would he be spending all his energy trying to marry into a trust fund? So, after ten agonizingly awkward minutes of dead silence, Carter raised his hand, stopping the HR rep from asking the next question. He gestured confidently: “I think you need to take another look at my resume.” The HR rep was entirely confused. “I already reviewed your resume when you applied online.” Giving her a highly suggestive wink, Carter pushed his freshly printed physical resume across the table. “I highly suggest you look at it again.” The HR rep must have been questioning her reality, wondering what massive secret was hiding in this kid’s painfully mediocre resume. But given his immense confidence, she opened the folder. Page one: normal. “Look at page two,” Carter smiled knowingly. The HR rep flipped to the second page. In the security room, Zoey and I let out a scream of laughter. For his second page, Carter had printed out a massive, full-color selfie of him and Mia cuddling. The HR rep stared at the giant, glossy faces of these two college kids, then slowly looked up at Carter. Carter flashed her a blinding, “Now you get it” smile. I am absolutely certain that in her entire professional career, this HR rep had never encountered something so profoundly unhinged. She sat in absolute silence for two full minutes. Finally, maintaining peak professionalism, she told Carter: “I think we can conclude the interview here.” The HR rep just wanted to get this insane person out of her building. But Carter, convinced that the HR rep had finally understood his VIP status and was “fast-tracking” him, stood up and excitedly shook her hand. “Excellent. I look forward to receiving my offer letter. Oh, by the way, the standard entry-level package is around $100k, right? Since it’s me, is there any way we can make a special exception and bump that up?” This time, the HR rep was silent for five full minutes. Zoey and I were laughing so hard in the security room we couldn’t breathe. When we finally left the security room, we bumped right into Carter in the lobby. Carter looked us up and down, a smug smirk twisting his lips. “Here for an interview?” Zoey had been laughing so hard that she hadn’t managed to reset her facial expressions yet. The look on her face screamed ‘I am looking at a clinically insane person’. Carter noticed. His smile dropped into a cold sneer. “You’d better watch your tone with me. Because whether you get hired here or not is entirely up to me.” Zoey scoffed, “Aren’t you just here for an interview too?” Carter sneered, “Do I look like I’m in the same league as you?” He slung his backpack over his shoulder and strutted out the glass doors. Zoey and I watched him leave, sharing a knowing look. Well, the setup was done. It was about time for the climax.

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My new roommate leaves early and comes back late, always like a ghost. Thinking she worked too hard, I took extra care of her. Me: [Hey babe, I left some pot roast in the fridge for you.] Her: […Thanks.] Me: [Baby, scarfs were buy-one-get-one-free, got you one.] Her: […Okay.] Until one day. Me: [Ahhh baby help, do you have any overnight pads?] Ten minutes later, an incredibly handsome, cold-looking guy knocked on my bedroom door, holding a massive bag of overnight pads. “Are these enough? I can go buy more.” Guys, my world is collapsing! How did my cute girl roommate instantly turn into a 6’2″ hottie??? 01 My previous roommate was an absolute nightmare. He’d leave fruit in the fridge until it rotted and never clean it up. He’d pile dirty socks in the bathroom sink, then retreat to his room to play video games. We fought constantly. So, when he moved out, I specifically asked the landlord if I could get a female roommate. The landlord agreed without hesitation. Soon, the new roommate added me on Instagram. Her name was Summer, and her profile picture was a smiling Samoyed with its head tilted. She only had one post—a picture of a fluffy dog sitting on the grass, sticking its tongue out happily. My heart instantly melted. How bad could someone who loves Samoyeds be? Our subsequent messages confirmed my theory. Before moving in, she specifically texted me: [Hello, I’ll be moving in around 10:00 AM to 1:00 PM next Wednesday. Please let me know if this is an inconvenience.] Now, I’m the type of person who mirrors the energy I receive. Since the new roommate was so polite, I immediately became super friendly. I quickly replied: [No worries, baby! I’ll be at work then, so the place is yours. Take your time moving in~] She replied: […Okay, thank you.] I didn’t know why she added the ellipsis, but I didn’t think much of it and went back to work. 02 On the day the new roommate moved in, the apartment didn’t become a mess; instead, it was even cleaner. The dust on the crystal chandelier was wiped completely clean, and a broken lightbulb had been replaced. A beautiful enamel vase appeared in the corner, holding a tastefully arranged bouquet of fresh flowers. When the evening breeze blew, a lovely fragrance drifted through the room. The whole place looked warm and bright. Without a doubt, this was the new roommate’s doing. I felt incredibly emotional. The day my last roommate moved in, the living room was covered in footprints and drywall dust, the rug was ruined, and I had to clean it all up myself. How could my new roommate be such an angel? It must be because I’ve been a good person lately, and the universe is rewarding me! While marveling at this, I walked toward my room and noticed a gift box at my door. A sticky note was attached to it, with neat, elegant handwriting: [Hello, I’m glad to be your roommate. A small gift to show my appreciation. Hope we get along well. —Summer.] I opened the box and found a reed diffuser. The scent was sweet and lingering, like milk candy. I originally wanted to knock on her door and welcome her in person. But considering I had worked overtime and it was almost 11 PM, she was probably already asleep. So, I just texted her. Me: [Babe!! Thank you for the gift!] Me: [I love the scent so much! Mwah mwah mwah! /Heart/ /Heart/ /Kiss/ /Kiss/] Me: [Here’s to a great time living together!] A few minutes later, Summer replied. […I’m glad you like it.] But she clearly had more to say. The “typing…” indicator stayed at the top of the chat for a long time. It showed for a full ten minutes, but she still hadn’t sent anything. What could be so hard to say? After I took a shower, I saw she had finally sent a new message. Three minutes ago, from Summer. [Um… just to correct you. We’re not living together as a couple, we’re just roommates.] 03 A massive project our team was working on finally wrapped up. Our manager generously gave us a day off. So, that day, I bought a ton of groceries, cracked my knuckles, and prepared to cook a feast to reward myself. Mac and cheese for the princess. Lobster bisque for the princess. Pan-seared halibut for the princess. Truffle risotto for the princess. I accidentally made too much. Looking at the table full of food, I thought it over, portioned some out, and left half for Summer. I noticed she always left early and came back late, and never used the kitchen. She was probably surviving on takeout, poor thing. I wrapped the reserved food in plastic wrap and put it in Tupperware. Then I texted Summer: [Babe, I made too much food today, so I saved half for you. Try my cooking! /Heart/ /Heart/] She quickly replied: […Thank you.] I added: [Also also, my company gave us a box of peaches, and I can’t finish them. Help me eat some!] She: […Okay, thank you.] I put down my phone and started eating like a starving person. Almost an hour later, I was finally full and satisfied. My phone lit up; it was a message from Summer. [This might be a bit forward, but I wanted to ask, do you call everyone ‘babe’?] I immediately typed: [Of course not! I only call people I like ‘babe’! I like you a lot, so you’re my babe!] Summer: […We haven’t even met, and you like me?] Me: [Of course! Don’t doubt my judge of character!] Summer: [Alright.] Me: [Hey, do you not like being called ‘babe’? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.] The chat showed “typing…” Again, for a full ten minutes. Summer finally replied: [It’s fine, you can call me that.] Me: [/Kiss/ /Kiss/ /Kiss/] 04 My best friend’s online boutique went out of business. She shipped me two huge boxes of inventory. Lace ones, ones with cat ears, ones with bunny tails… Operating on the principle of never wasting anything, I washed them all. Before, I had to consider that my roommate was a guy, so I could only dry my underwear in my own small room. Now it didn’t matter. My roommate was a girl like me, so I casually hung them out on the balcony. That day I was working overtime again, stuck in meetings until my eyes blurred. While making coffee, I saw a severe thunderstorm warning. I suddenly remembered! I still had clothes drying on the balcony! So I quickly texted Summer: [BABE!! Emergency! Are you home?] Summer: [Yes. What’s wrong?] Me: [It looks like it’s going to rain, and I forgot to bring my clothes in. Could you bring them in for me?] Summer: [No problem.] Me: [Thank you babe, you’re the best! /Heart/ /Heart/ /Heart/] I put down my phone and went back to work. After another discussion meeting, I finally had time to check my phone and saw several messages from Summer. 9:27 PM, Summer: [You didn’t say it was these kinds of clothes.] 9:28 PM, Summer: [Are you sure you want me to bring them in?] 9:56 PM, Summer: [Are you there?] 10:46 PM, Summer: […] 10:49 PM, Summer: [Brought them in for you.] I quickly replied: [Ahhh thank you baby! I was working and didn’t see my phone, sorry sorry.] I scrolled up and replied: [Hey, what’s wrong with these clothes? Do you not like them?] Summer: […] Me: [You prefer classic styles?] Summer: [That’s not what I meant.] Me: [Then which one is your favorite?] Summer: […] Me: [Animated sticker /Puppy tilting head/] Me: [Animated sticker /Puppy looking anxious/] Me: [Animated sticker /Puppy running/] Summer: […The one with the bunny tail.] Me: [Great taste! That’s my favorite too! I have two sets, want me to give you one?] Summer: [No need.] Me: [Don’t be shy~~] Summer: [I can’t wear it.] Me: [Huh? Is your size too big?] Summer: […] Summer: [You could understand it that way.] Me: [Ahhh I’m so jealous!!!] Me: [Animated sticker /Reaching out to squish/ Baby is so soft and sweet, baby makes my overtime better, let me squish!] Summer: [Please don’t do this. We’ve only known each other for a month.] Me: [Sorry baby, I won’t do it again.] Summer: [That’s not what I meant.] Me: [Then what do you mean? When we’re closer, I can squish?] Summer: […It depends.] 05 Summer went on a business trip last week. When she came back, she gave me a pearl necklace. A sticky note was attached to the outside of the box, again with her elegant handwriting: [Saw this necklace and felt it would suit you perfectly. Hope you like it. —Summer.] I didn’t know much about pearls, but I happily put it on. The next day at work, my colleagues immediately surrounded me. “Are these Akoya pearls? The luster is amazing.” “What’s rare is that every single one is large, perfectly round, and flawless.” “Audrey, where did you buy this necklace? Do you have a link?” I told them the truth: “My roommate brought it back for me from her business trip. I don’t think there’s a link.” A senior colleague said, “Your roommate is so generous! This must cost at least a few thousand dollars. Is your roommate a guy or a girl?” I touched the pearls, smiled goofily, and said, “A girl! She’s super nice, really clean. She basically does all the cleaning in the apartment; there’s not a single hair on the floor. And every time she goes on a business trip, she brings me a gift. Ahhh, she’s really the best! I really hit the jackpot!” My colleagues started chatting about pearls. I pulled out my phone and secretly texted Summer: [Babe! Miss you miss you miss you!] Summer: [What’s wrong?] Me: [Nothing, just feel so lucky to have you. T_T] Summer: [Mhm. When are you coming back?] Me: [Don’t know yet, looks like I have to work late again today.] Summer: [Okay.] Me: [Did you need something?] Summer: [No.] Me: [Animated sticker /Puppy collapsed in exhaustion/] Summer: [The landlord remodeled the bathroom and installed a bathtub. Text me when you get off work, I’ll draw the water for you.] Me: [WHAT!!!!! The landlord is too nice!!!! How did she know I wanted a bathtub!!!!! I only told my cactus!!!] Summer: [Who knows.] Me: [Oh right, baby, could you get the bunny tail out for me? It’s in the third drawer of the closet.] Summer: [You’re going to wear it?] Me: [Mhm.] Summer: […For who?] System notification: The other person recalled a message. Summer: [Sorry, that was out of line. It’s your freedom, I shouldn’t have asked.] Me: [Baby, you’re not allowed to say sorry! We don’t have to be so careful with each other!! I’m not wearing it for anyone, just for my own enjoyment, hehe.] Summer: [Your own enjoyment?] Me: [Hehehe, do you want to see? My body is super gorgeous! I possess the most beautiful body in the world!] Summer: [I believe you.] Summer: [But, I’ll pass for now.] Me: [Next time then! I’m a living masterpiece! /Twirls/] Summer: [Come home early, Ms. Masterpiece.]

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After our parents divorced, my sister chose to live with our wealthy father. I moved into my mother’s cramped rental apartment. A few years later, my father squandered his fortune on partying, gambling, and women. Meanwhile, my mother became a massive live-streaming influencer and a famous female entrepreneur. My sister’s life was turned upside down, so she came crying to me. But when I wasn’t looking, she slipped poison into my cup. “We are both their biological daughters! Why do you get to live so well while I’m out on the streets?” “It’s my turn to live the good life!” When I opened my eyes again, we were back on the day of our parents’ divorce. This time, she beat me to it and threw her arms around our mother. “I want to live with Mom. I don’t care how hard it gets, I’m willing to endure it.” But she didn’t know—our mother was far more terrifying than our father. 01 My sister, Lily, always had a sweet mouth and knew exactly how to charm people. Because of that, she was favored much more than I was. Naturally, when our parents decided to get a divorce, they asked Lily first. They asked her who she wanted to stay with. Our dad, Richard, was a trust-fund kid from a very wealthy family. Our mom, Evelyn, was a stay-at-home mother who would have absolutely nothing to her name after the divorce, destined to struggle just to make ends meet. So, without a second thought, Lily obediently threw her arms around our dad. “I love Daddy the most! I can’t live without you, I want to grow up with you!” Dad beamed with joy, lifting Lily high into the air. “My sweet girl, you stay with Daddy, and you’ll be a little princess for the rest of your life!” Lily smiled sweetly. But in a blind spot where our parents couldn’t see, she shot me a smug, triumphant look. Yes, she had been like this since we were kids. She always had to compete with me. As long as she could “beat” me, she was perfectly willing to do things that didn’t even benefit her, just to see me lose. Dad and Lily were laughing happily. Mom stood off to the side, looking heartbroken and gloomy. I stayed silent for a moment, then walked over and took Mom’s hand. “Mom, I’m willing to live with you.” She gave me a deep, unreadable look and said nothing. 02 A few years later, through a stroke of luck, Mom’s live-streaming career exploded. We moved from a rundown rental into a nice apartment complex. Then from that apartment into a gated mansion community. Mom’s used scooter was traded in for a Mercedes. And then the Mercedes was traded in for a Porsche. One day, Mom was driving me out to run errands when we happened to witness a traffic accident. An e-bike rider was driving the wrong way down the street and crashed into a luxury car. The owner of the luxury car got out and started screaming, while the e-bike rider just stood there, meekly apologizing. His teenage daughter was standing to the side, crying her eyes out. Embarrassed by her tears, the man actually kicked his own daughter. Heartbroken, the girl turned her head, and her eyes met mine through the tinted window of the Porsche. It was my sister, Lily. I looked closer at the pathetic, apologizing e-bike rider—it was my dad! Lily saw Mom and me. Her eyes lit up, and she started chasing after our car like a madwoman. But Mom just stepped on the gas, driving forward as if nothing had happened. I hesitated before speaking up: “Mom, that was Lily.” Mom replied coldly: “I saw her. What, do you want to help her?” I didn’t dare make a sound. Mom let out a cold laugh. “She was so cute when she was little, wasn’t she? Now that she’s grown up, she’s just as ugly as her father. Ungrateful little backstabber. This is karma.” I shut my mouth completely. Not long after, Lily managed to find my contact info and asked me to meet her. Sitting in a coffee shop, she cried a river of tears. “Chloe, you have no idea. Dad is—” Lily told me that our dad was an absolute fool. He was incompetent, yet incredibly greedy. A few years ago, listening to the nonsense of his sketchy friends, he ignored our Grandpa’s strict warnings and invested tens of millions into a startup. The company was a complete scam designed to drain his money. Just like that, millions vanished into thin air. Grandpa was furiously disappointed and kicked him out of the family. “I thought Dad would learn his lesson, but all he did was party, drink, and sleep around.” After being cut off, Dad spent his nights clubbing. Taking the terrible advice of his various girlfriends, he went to Las Vegas and threw cash around like water. Within a few months, whatever millions he had left in his bank account were gone. Worse, he racked up over six million dollars in casino debt. Grandpa was entirely done with him and refused to give him a single dime. Out of options, Dad had to start doing DoorDash deliveries just to survive. But he was a man who had been pampered his entire life. He used to have a private chauffeur; he didn’t even know basic traffic laws. Not long after he started delivering food, he drove the wrong way down a street and crashed into a luxury car—the exact scene I had witnessed. In the coffee shop, Lily threw herself into my arms, weeping bitterly. “Chloe, I saw Mom driving a Porsche and wearing Chanel. Your purse is Dior. You guys must be living such a good life.” “Chloe, can you please go back and talk to Mom? I’m her daughter too. I don’t want to live with Dad anymore, I want to live with her.” “She must miss me so much, right? In those first few years after the divorce, she called me all the time, begging me to come back.” Her eyes were full of desperate hope. But just thinking about my mother made a violent shudder run down my spine. Finally, I said, “It’s best if you don’t live with Mom. But… I can give you some money.” Lily snapped her head up, a flash of pure, venomous resentment crossing her face. But just as quickly, she masked it with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chloe. I knew you loved me the most.” 03 The next day, I transferred ten thousand dollars to Lily. She eagerly offered to invite me over to her rental apartment for dinner. Inside the dingy apartment, Lily handed me a cup of tea. “Chloe, I remember you always loved sweet peach tea since we were kids. I picked this out just for you. Tell me if it tastes good.” My guard was down, so I drank it. But soon, the room started spinning. My final memory was Lily holding a knife, slashing my face to pieces. “Chloe, we’re both their biological daughters! Why do you get to live so well while I’m out on the streets?!” “You have so much money, but you only gave me this pathetic amount?! And you won’t even let me go back to Mom?! You selfish, greedy bitch!” An endless darkness washed over me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my parents’ divorce. Faced with Dad’s question about who we wanted to live with… This time, Lily didn’t even hesitate. She turned and threw her arms around Mom. “I can’t live without Mom! I want to live with Mom! I don’t care how hard it gets, I’m not afraid!” Mom was so moved she hugged Lily tightly. Buried in Mom’s embrace, Lily flashed a cunning, wicked smile. In a blind spot where no one else could see, Lily silently mouthed the words to me: “Sister, this time, it’s my turn to fly high.” So, she was reborn too. But she didn’t know—Mom was far more terrifying than Dad. 04 Lily happily skipped off to the cramped rental apartment. I stayed behind in the sprawling mansion. Dad was as unreliable as ever. He had just finalized his divorce, yet that very night, he was getting ready to hit the clubs. On the phone, some mistress was speaking to him in a sickly-sweet voice. It cheered him up instantly. He grabbed his designer jacket, ready to walk out the door. Right as he was about to leave, I stopped him. I asked: “Dad, who’s going to eat dinner with me?” He answered like it was obvious: “Isn’t the nanny here? Just have her eat with you.” I bit my lip and said, “I haven’t seen Grandpa in a long time, and I miss him. Dad, can you drop me off at his house?” Dad hesitated. Seeing this, I added: “Auntie’s son, Liam, went to see Grandpa a couple of days ago. I don’t know what he said, but Grandpa bought Auntie a brand-new car. Did you know about that, Dad?” Hearing this, Dad’s hesitation vanished instantly. “That family just knows how to leech off my side of the family! Pathetic!” “Chloe, I’ll have the driver take you over right now. Remember, you have to put in a good word for me in front of Grandpa, understand?” Saying that, he practically shoved me into the back of a black SUV. Grandpa lived in a quiet, secluded lakehouse estate. In his eyes, my mother was a manipulative gold digger who used every trick in the book to climb the social ladder and marry my dad. He thought she was deeply scheming and venomous. Because of that, he always despised my mom, and by extension, he didn’t like Lily or me either. In my past life, after the divorce, Lily also tried to suck up to Grandpa. But she was a spoiled little princess who had been coddled at home. Her head was empty, and her only skill was pretending to be cute and innocent. At Grandpa’s house, all her little tricks failed miserably. No matter how much she cried or threw tantrums, all she got was Grandpa’s cold indifference. Unlike her, our aunt’s son, my cousin Liam Carter, was Grandpa’s absolute favorite. No matter what Liam said or did, he always earned Grandpa’s praise. Over time, Lily grew incredibly resentful. During a family gathering, she deliberately smashed an antique vase and framed Liam for it. She thought it would ruin Liam’s standing in the family. Instead, she was met with security footage from a hidden camera. Liam’s status remained unshaken. Lily, on the other hand, faced the absolute wrath of the family’s strict discipline. Grandpa accused her of being “scheming, venomous, and willing to do anything for personal gain—just like your mother.” He strictly ordered my dad to never bring her to the estate again. From that day on, Lily harbored a deep hatred for Grandpa. On his birthday, she even posted a twisted comic on social media, depicting the Grim Reaper using various horrific methods to take an old man’s life. Grandpa definitely saw it, but he ignored her completely. Later, when Dad went bankrupt and Lily’s life hit rock bottom, she finally remembered Grandpa. She knelt outside the gates of the lakehouse, begging him for forgiveness and a place to stay. Grandpa didn’t even show his face. The security guards just dragged her away. This time, time had rewound. Lily ran off to chase her dream of a luxurious new life. And the person standing outside the lakehouse, about to visit Grandpa, was me. I took a few deep breaths and pressed the doorbell. 05 Even though Dad had called ahead to say I wanted to visit, Grandpa’s expression in the study was still freezing cold. After I politely greeted him, he showed no intention of entertaining me. I didn’t get upset. I just found a quiet corner and sat down. Living with my mother in my past life, I had endured humiliations hundreds and thousands of times worse than this. This was nothing. In the study, Grandpa was quizzing Liam on his studies. Liam was seventeen this year. He was an academic genius with a deep interest in finance and economics. Grandpa was a self-made billionaire, but unfortunately, all of his own children were mediocre at best. Therefore, he genuinely admired this driven, grounded grandson. He would often pull Liam aside to analyze famous domestic and international business mergers and acquisitions. The questions Grandpa asked were extremely difficult. Liam answered the first few perfectly. But the next one was different. Liam fell into a long, deep silence. Grandpa wasn’t in a rush, patiently waiting for his answer. I timidly raised my hand. “Grandpa, can I share my thoughts on this?” Grandpa glanced at me, his expression full of doubt. “You? You’re not even in high school yet. What could you possibly know?” “If you can’t sit still, go wait outside. Don’t try to play smart with me.” I didn’t get angry. I just smiled and said, “If you aren’t satisfied with my answer, I’ll go stand in the corner outside. How about that?” Grandpa scoffed. But Liam chimed in: “Grandpa, why not let Chloe give it a try?” Grandpa didn’t say anything, which was a silent yes. I shot Liam a grateful smile and began to speak: “The initial capital for this specific group of entrepreneurs wasn’t exactly clean. In the early days, they acted as exclusive import distributors, helping foreign corporations open up the local market. By monopolizing information gaps, they extracted massive, exorbitant profit margins.” Grandpa looked at me in surprise and kept grilling: “Then tell me, what was their natural advantage, and what was their fatal flaw?” I thought for a second and replied: “They built close ties with foreign entities early on and adapted to the market quickly. That was their advantage. But it was a double-edged sword. Their fatal flaw was becoming entirely dependent on the first-mover advantage provided by those foreign companies. They never developed their own core competencies. So, once the market became regulated and standardized, their competitive edge vanished.” Grandpa stared at me for a long time. His expression was complicated. There was doubt. There was scrutiny. But there was no longer any contempt. After a moment, he asked, “You’re only fourteen. Where did you hear all this?” I said, “The public library has a lot of books. I love to read.” But that wasn’t true. In my past life, a massive portion of my mother’s “clients” were exactly those men who profited from those very distribution monopolies. They exploited loopholes, built wealth through cronyism and information gaps, and yet attributed all their success to their own sheer brilliance. And on drunken afternoons, holding a young girl in their arms, they couldn’t wait to brag about their past business conquests. Thinking about this, I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them again, I was still sitting in Grandpa’s solemn, antique study. I wasn’t in a dim, suffocating bedroom bathed in cheap pink lighting. Clap, clap, clap— Liam began to clap softly. He said, “Chloe is only fourteen, but her reading comprehension and analytical skills are incredibly sharp. That deserves recognition.” He looked at me, his expression gentle and sincere. “I concede. I couldn’t have answered it better.” I quickly shook my head. “It was just a lucky guess. I don’t know any of the complex financial and economic terms you were talking about earlier. I still have a lot to learn.” After a brief silence, Liam asked me, “Chloe, do you want to study with me?” 06 At Liam’s suggestion, Grandpa allowed me to audit his lessons. But he was still suspicious of me. He suspected this was just a creative new strategy to con money out of him. So, he ordered Liam to give him regular reports on my behavior. In truth, I didn’t need Liam to monitor me, and I didn’t need anyone to force me to work. Every single day, I went to class, came home, and whenever I had a day off, I was either practicing the piano or buried in the library. This was the normal life I had begged for but never had in my past life. How could I not cherish it? Months went by. In Grandpa’s study, I was no longer just a listener. Often, when Grandpa threw out a debate topic, Liam and I would argue until we were red in the face. Until Grandpa finally called a halt to it. I don’t know exactly which day it happened. But Grandpa stopped looking at me with defensive, guarded eyes. And Liam stopped reporting my behavior to Grandpa. He complained that paying too much attention to me was wasting his own study time, which was exactly why he had lost to me on a recent pop quiz. Grandpa just roared with laughter at that. I pretended not to notice any of it, quietly continuing to work on my practice exams. At school, my intense studying brought massive rewards. I won first place in the State Math Championship. My homeroom teacher said she was going to call me out for special praise at the upcoming parent-teacher conference. But my dad was as useless as ever. He promised he would attend, but half an hour before it started, he called to say he couldn’t make it. He said, “Chloe, Dad has a very important business meeting. Just let the nanny go to the conference for you, okay? Be a good girl.” But over the phone, I could clearly hear the giggling of several women in the background. I didn’t expose his lie; I just calmly hung up the phone. Then, I took a picture of the Math Championship honor roll hanging on the classroom whiteboard and texted it to Grandpa. On the list, my name and Liam’s name sat at the absolute top of the middle school and high school divisions respectively. Both carrying our family’s legacy, sparkling in the sunlight. I added a message: [Grandpa, Dad had a last-minute emergency and can’t make it to my parent-teacher conference. But my teacher really wants to talk to my guardian about my future academic track. Could you come?] Grandpa personally showed up at the school. This was a privilege not even Liam had ever received. My homeroom teacher was terrified but honored, and the principal rushed down just to greet him. Grandpa sat completely at ease in the principal’s office and asked, “How is my granddaughter’s academic performance? Are there areas where she needs to improve?” He knew the answer perfectly well, but he asked anyway. The homeroom teacher quickly piled on the praise, confirming that I was the absolute top student in every possible metric. Only then did Grandpa nod in satisfaction. After the conference, he hesitated for a moment, then surprisingly ordered his driver to take us to the high-end shopping mall. He said, “I saw the other little girls in your class dressing so brightly. Why are you dressed so plain? Is your father neglecting you?” In the end, he bought me six or seven tailored outfits. And several designer bags. Looking at the numbers on the receipt, I felt a wave of anxiety. “Grandpa, aren’t you worried I’m just after your money now?” He let out a booming laugh. “Go ahead and be after it! I’d be more worried if you weren’t!” I froze for a second, then laughed along with him. Lily thought that to please Grandpa, she had to rely on being cute, providing superficial emotional value, and acting like a spoiled princess. But she didn’t understand. Grandpa was a ruthless, self-made entrepreneur who built an empire from the ground up. He had seen countless sugar-coated bullets and witnessed the darkest sides of human nature. He didn’t need, nor did he respect, flattery and whining from someone useless. An aging titan holding the reins of an empire… The thing he most desperately wants to see is a vibrant, fiercely capable successor. And as long as I kept proving my competence, it was only a matter of time before I became the second Liam. Grandpa’s favorite.

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When an A-list actor adjusted my microphone, he unconsciously kissed my hair. We both froze. Because this was a reality show about divorce. And we were from two different former couples. 01 After my divorce from Ethan Vance, everyone assumed I would cling to him. He had publicly announced our marriage at the peak of his career. After tying the knot, he successfully transitioned from a teen idol to a serious actor. When he finally won his first major award, people still brought me up. “What gives her the right? She’s so lucky.” I was the one who asked for the divorce. But it was what he had been waiting for all along. While he was playing house on set with Chloe Sterling, his co-star in his new drama—wearing his jackets, using his phone case… I was still at home, flipping through the calendar, waiting for him. Time and again, he hung up my calls, using work as an excuse. Until one day, I ran into Chloe in first class. She greeted me warmly, a bright smile on her face. “Did you know?” she whispered in my ear. “I bought this ticket using his credit card.” She did it on purpose. Trying to force me into a divorce. I gave her exactly what she wanted. I went home and packed my bags in half an hour. I don’t want something that someone else has already dirtied. Thank god we didn’t have kids. Ethan leaned against the doorframe, watching me. His reaction was flat. He only asked one question: “What else do you want?” “Your phone.” He paused for a second, but then handed it straight to me. During the years he loved me most—when I stayed by his side from D-list obscurity to A-list stardom—I was always his only pinned contact. Now, I had been replaced. I was relegated to “Do Not Disturb.” An uncontested divorce. He gave me everything he earned over those years, asking only that I let him go as quickly as possible. He told me he truly loved Chloe. After signing the non-disclosure agreement, I thought we would never speak again. Until he called me one last time. “Let’s meet up.” It was the first month after our divorce. “We can’t let my fans know I cheated. The new drama is about to air.” I arrived early. In the break room, I overheard Ethan’s manager trying to persuade him. “Even after a divorce, you’re still an A-list actor. And her? Just an absolute nobody waiting to be laughed at. “She’s definitely not over it. “Just trick her. Tell her you want to go on a divorce reality show with her. “Make her think there’s a chance to win you back, and she’ll do everything to please you. “Then, we’ll edit the show to make the audience find her annoying, and you can maintain your ‘devoted ex-husband’ persona.” The manager nudged him. “Are you even listening?” Ethan had his legs propped up on a low table, lazily playing a game on his phone. He gave a noncommittal “Yeah.” “Trust me, you crook your finger, and she’ll come running back like a dog, grateful for the attention.” In the meeting room. Ethan was playing with his phone with one hand. He only said a few words. And I agreed. “I’ll do the show.” He stared into my eyes, pausing for a moment. “Are you really… that desperate for me?” He was too confident, too easy to fool. I lowered my eyelashes. “Yes. “Ethan, is there still a chance for us?” His gaze turned cold. He looked away and said softly, “Depends on your behavior.” “But,” he added, “the script for this show isn’t what you think.” This divorce reality show. It was scheduled to air while his new drama with Chloe was broadcasting. To drum up publicity for their on-screen romance. The theme of the show was “Seeing Marital Problems by Changing Lifestyles.” Chloe would be sharing a room with him. And I would be sharing a room with Chloe’s ex-husband. That guy, Carter Hayes, who skyrocketed to fame at nineteen with a single drama, won a grand slam of awards, and then abruptly retired to get married. Ethan was just the guy who picked up the scraps Carter left behind. He became famous because his face looked seventy percent like Carter’s. Rumor had it that Chloe and Carter lived apart after getting married. That she loved him, but couldn’t have him. 02 A hot spring resort. Two rooms, separated by a single wall. The show was broadcast live. There was an observation room on set and live comments from the audience online. [Ethan Vance and Chloe Sterling on a divorce show, sharing a room? They’re playing hard!!!] [Their chemistry is insane! So perfect together.] [Told you Ethan and his wife had no feelings left. No one likes the one holding them back.] [I’ve been waiting for them to divorce for so long!] [Was he blind? He loved her so much back then…] The staff strapped heart rate monitors on Ethan and Chloe. “If your heart rate reaches 70, you can leave the room.” [They’ll break that in seconds, right?] To everyone’s surprise, both of their heart rates stalled at 68. They had done everything together off-camera. They were too familiar with each other, afraid of slipping up and showing it. So they ended up acting overly cautious on the show. [Chloe is so polite, she doesn’t even dare get too close.] [Ethan, stop holding back! We support you!] Chloe sat by the door. Ethan stood on the balcony for some fresh air. From a certain angle, he could see into my room. Carter hadn’t arrived yet. I was sitting alone on the edge of the bed, wearing my heart rate monitor. Someone knocked on the door. It was a tall, slender man. A baseball cap hid half his face, and his damp bangs were dusted with mist from the hot springs. It was drizzling outside. He carried the crisp, cold scent of a foggy midnight. [MY FIRST LOVE IS BACK!!!] [How should I put this, Ethan… comparison is the thief of joy.] [Let’s not pit them against each other.] “You have to put this on.” I handed the other heart rate monitor to Carter. Ethan always hated it when people said he looked like Carter. In our first year of marriage, we were taking a walk on the street late at night. I froze, staring at a massive luxury billboard featuring Carter. Ethan pulled a beanie over my head, blocking my view, and muttered sourly: “I knew you liked this type of face.” And now. In the other room, Ethan was on the balcony. Watching clearly. Watching Carter walk into the room and close the door behind him. Putting on the monitor. Ethan didn’t care. He had known since that night that the man he could never catch up to, the man he was insanely jealous of—Carter—was only married to Chloe out of a contractual obligation. Carter didn’t even like Chloe. Naturally, it was even more impossible for him to like someone as incredibly ordinary and divorced as me, someone Ethan himself looked down on. Ethan scoffed lightly, completely unbothered. Yet, he scrutinized my reaction without missing a single detail. “Hello, I’m Audrey Miller.” My heart rate was resting at 50 as I held out my hand to Carter. “Hello, I’m Carter Hayes.” He took my hand. A few seconds later, a sharp, piercing beep came from the monitor. Carter’s heart rate had skyrocketed, breaking the limit. But the man himself was calmer than anyone else. He said, “The monitor is broken.” I said, “Oh.” 03 They changed the monitor, and sure enough, it was normal. After a few cooperative games, Ethan and Chloe’s heart rates surpassed 70, and they left their room early. But on my end. Carter’s heart rate remained stubbornly stuck at 25. Pathetically low. “If it never goes over,” I asked the staff, “do we have to spend the night in the room?” Carter heard that. His shoulders were broad, his back straight. He was wearing a thin black hoodie, his gaze empty and distant. The staff replied, “It counts as a failed mission. You can come out in an hour.” Carter and I were the last to come out. [That was such a fail.] [Zero chemistry between those two.] [Take her away, can we please not show her? I only want to watch Chloe and Ethan.] The live comments were dismal until the broadcast ended. Post-interviews were held in the various rooms. Cameramen, lighting crew, people everywhere. Ethan stood in a corner, watching Chloe getting interviewed, his gaze accidentally sweeping over me. “Excited?” He asked me out of nowhere. “Did you think for even a second that Carter might actually be interested in you?” I ignored him and tried to leave. But he blocked me. “What to do, Audrey,” he put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head to look at me. “I’m starting to feel that divorcing you was the best decision I ever made.” Someone walked past, and Ethan straightened up. Back to his gentle, affectionate, yet broken persona. As if I was the one who had hurt him the most. After Chloe finished her interview, she walked up to me under everyone’s gaze and grabbed my hand. “Audrey,” she had a worn red string tied around her wrist, “you really need to cherish Ethan. He truly loves you.” That red string. I had seen it before. For our anniversary last year, Ethan was tailed by a stalker fan and got into a minor car accident. He was fine. I dragged him up a mountain to pray at a temple, closing my eyes and filling my heart with prayers for his safety. When I opened my eyes, I saw him buying that red string. I thought he was going to give it to me. But he said he bought it for himself, to put my mind at ease. And now, it was on Chloe’s wrist. “Stop being unreasonable,” Chloe was still talking for the cameras. “I want you two to be happy more than anyone.” I didn’t say a single word. Ethan didn’t know. And Chloe didn’t know either. Actually, there was another, hidden reason I agreed to participate in this show, a reason I couldn’t tell anyone. When I closed my eyes that day at the temple, it wasn’t Ethan in my heart. 04 The reality show was filmed on weekends. The concept was “Weekend Spouses.” During the weekdays. I picked up my old career, wanting to return to my previous entertainment agency as a talent manager. “Carter and Chloe are divorced.” My former boss told me. “He signed a ten-year contract with Chloe’s dad’s company, and now he can finally terminate it. “He’s restructuring his studio, and I recommended you to him.” Following the address he gave me, I saw Carter at a photo studio. His profile was backlit, his features sharp and rebellious. It was indeed a face made for the silver screen. He was even harder to approach than I imagined. I waited outside for a long time. Until his assistant ran out and told me. “I’m sorry, Ms. Miller. We probably can’t meet today.” On the way back, my car broke down. At 11 PM, in the middle of nowhere, and it was raining. I held an umbrella, waiting for the tow truck. Watching the cars drive past from afar, like phantoms moving through the night. Not a single one was coming to pick me up. Headlights flashed in front of me. The window of a black SUV rolled down, and Carter’s assistant said to me: “Ms. Miller, get in the car first.” Carter sat in the very back, a baseball cap pulled over his eyes, fast asleep. His breathing was shallow, his long legs slightly bent. The space was a bit cramped for him. There was a lot of clutter in the car, and two suit jackets were hanging by the window. A crisp scent of pine. The smell of his hand when he shook mine that day. “Ms. Miller, I’m going to buy a bottle of water at the gas station up ahead. Do you want anything?” the assistant asked me quietly. “Just call me Audrey. I’ll go with you.” “Ah,” he waved his hand and got out of the car. “I’ll go. I’ll be right back.” The door closed, leaving only Carter and me in the car. No one else. And no cameras. The headlights flickered slightly; the interior of the car was dim. Even though there was a row of seats between us, his breathing felt as close as if it were right in my ear. I stared out the window at the blue glow of a convenience store not far away, where the assistant was wandering near a shelf. I remembered once, while grocery shopping, I saw a billboard with Chloe on it. “She’s so pretty.” I said to Ethan back then. His reaction was flat. “She’s alright.” I didn’t know. That “alright” was the reason he stopped coming home, time and time again. Later, I found out from others that Chloe was his first love. They broke up when he couldn’t catch a break in his career. He never forgot her. But back then, in the grocery store, he smoothly changed the subject and asked me: “Baby, did you ever date anyone before me?” “No.” At least, that’s what I told him, and what I told the world. In the car, someone was kicking my calf. The long leg stretching from the back seat wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate, mischievous, childish, and rhythmic. I pulled my leg back out of his reach. I didn’t speak, nor did I turn around. I maintained my previous posture, as if nothing had happened. “Audrey Miller.” He spoke up, perhaps just waking up, carrying a trace of reckless, youthful energy: “Long time no see.” It had been so many years. Why did he still like calling my full name like that? Just like in that cramped, hot, and humid rented apartment… Drowning again and again… In his gentle yet unrestrained, uncontrolled hands. 05 After that day, Carter and I had no further contact. Until the new weekend arrived. The live broadcasts for the show operated on a rotation system. This weekend, we were supposed to switch back to our original couples. “Director.” Chloe sounded incredibly understanding, looking like she was thinking only of the show. “The audience loves Ethan and me together. If you switch us back now, you’ll get backlash.” The director thought for a few seconds: “But—” “Ethan,” Chloe turned around, “what do you think?” Right in front of me, she asked Ethan: “Who do you choose tonight?” She had been waiting for this moment for a long time. The more something is kept in the dark, the more it craves to be chosen in front of everyone. Ethan understood her intentions. He deliberately let his gaze sweep over my face, then leaned back in his chair. “Is that even a choice? “The audience doesn’t want to see her.” Chloe got the answer she wanted and looked at me again. “Audrey, you won’t mind, will you? “But, you’ve been a housewife for so long, you don’t have much work experience, so you probably don’t know this… the audience’s preference is the most important thing. You should think of the bigger picture…” “Okay.” My tone was crisp. Hearing this, Ethan looked up at me. They all thought I was going to throw a fit. That way, they could edit my reaction into the bonus episodes to highlight Chloe’s thoughtfulness and understanding. They didn’t expect me to be so agreeable. Chloe, having finally memorized her lines for the morning, had nowhere to use them. After a long pause, she managed to squeeze out: “That’s good. No backing out now.” I said: “Let’s keep it like this from now on.” Her smile stiffened. Then, breaking into a smile, she tucked her hair behind her ear and whispered: “Are you trying to make Ethan jealous? “Who doesn’t know you came on this show to win him back? “What a shame, not only is he not jealous, but you can only watch helplessly as he walks into my room.” Over there, the production team called out. They decided to stick with last week’s setup. Before leaving, Ethan asked Chloe a question with a teasing undertone: “Aren’t you afraid of her being in the same room as Carter?” At the mention of that name, Chloe’s reaction was a bit exaggerated. She acted as if she had heard the funniest joke in the world. “I’ve never seen him like anyone. “Her? “You could lock them together for a year, and he still wouldn’t look twice at her.” The two exchanged glances and shared a knowing smile. Ethan purposely took off his coat and draped it over Chloe right in front of me. “Audrey, if you want to win me back, these little tricks aren’t going to cut it.” He wanted to provoke me. Make me break down and go crazy in public, so he could logically play the victim. Ethan and Chloe were taken to a luxurious mansion. That was the reward for the couple with the highest heart rate from last week. Chloe posted a picture of a candlelit dinner on Instagram. The comments were flooded with people shipping them. I saw all of this on my phone while riding in the production team’s van. The van was heading toward the older part of the city. [If their heart rates don’t go up today, they’ll be eliminated, right?] [They wouldn’t eliminate Carter. He’s too big of a star. They’ll probably just swap his partner.] [This is boring. Why would Carter even agree to a show like this?] [The weirder it gets, the more I ship it. I have a feeling something is going to happen.] [The person above is delusional!!! If something actually happens, I’ll do a handstand and eat shit!!!] I put my phone away and asked the staff: “Where are Carter and I staying tonight?” “Your heart rates were the lowest, so you have to accept the punishment. Tonight you’re staying in…” The van stopped. He lifted his chin, pointing at the old residential building in front of me. “There,” he said. “A cheap rental apartment.” We got out. There was only one camera inside the vehicle filming me. It was far away, only capturing my back. It couldn’t pick up audio. I stood at the door. My mind went blank for a few seconds. I took out my phone and called my former boss, who also happened to be my long-suffering best friend. “Carter said ‘long time no see’ to me.” Right now, I desperately needed her to pour a bucket of cold water on me. “So what? “What else is he supposed to say besides that?” My best friend responded exactly as I expected. “To put it bluntly, everyone has an ex. “He has so many options, why would he choose a divorced woman like you? “Just because of the few months you relied on each other? Be honest, that was the absolute lowest point of his life. Who would be nostalgic for that?” She was right. I hung up the phone. I turned the doorknob. Carter was on a ladder, fixing a ceiling light. As he reached up, his movements casually revealed the flex of his lean muscles and smooth lines. Just like back then. Except now he wore a bandage wrapped around his waist from doing wirework on a movie set. The old tungsten bulb flickered in his hands. Going out, then coming back on. It was too familiar. So much so that I stood in the doorway, unable to step inside for a long time. “Time to eat.” He saw me. Simple words, devoid of extra emotion. It made my unease seem exceptionally strange. I was the one overthinking it. To him, this show was probably just a safe PR move to wrap up his marriage. Outside, it was snowing. Tall, with sharp features, he stood by the counter preparing a hot pot with one hand. He radiated a very domestic, “husband material” vibe. I took a picture of his back and posted it on Instagram. Considered it fulfilling the production team’s task. After we ate, he didn’t let me wash the dishes. He moved swiftly, washed his hands, and then, inexplicably and automatically, started making the bed for me. There was only one bed. He said he would sleep on the floor. “The injury on your waist, do you need to change the bandages?” I asked him. “I can do it myself,” he said. When I finished my shower and came out of the bathroom, a thin quilt was already laid out on the floor. He was pulling a long roll of bandages out of his suitcase. I instinctively looked away and picked up my phone. Ethan had sent me a voice message. My hands were wet, and I accidentally played it on speaker. Ethan had seen my Instagram post. “Are you even used to eating hot pot? “Last time at home, you said you wanted a cake from that one bakery. I bought it for you on my way.” That cake was the one I said I wanted for my birthday last year. He never bought it for me. After waiting all this time, him buying it now was only to solidify his “devoted” persona for the show. I looked at my phone. The overhead light was blocked by Carter. “Can you help me?” In his hands was the roll of bandages. Didn’t he just say he could do it himself? Changing the dressing, wrapping the bandage. My arms weren’t long enough; I had to loosely encircle him with both arms. In this rental apartment in the north. The heating was inadequate, and the smell of snow mixed with rain seeped through the cracks of the old building. It was clearly very cold. But he and I maintained our distance. My fingertips only touched the bandage. His face could only turn to look elsewhere. Unlike that year, in that rental apartment in the south. Stiflingly hot and dark. It was clearly very hot. Yet, time and time again, as if there were no tomorrow, we possessively claimed each other. Click. The tungsten light flickered on. He and I stood beneath the light at this moment. In the year we were so poor and destitute we had no hope, we couldn’t even bear to replace a single lightbulb. We just made do. That old tungsten bulb was repaired over and over again. It would always flicker in the middle of the night. At the time, an eighteen-year-old Carter told me: “Every time it flickers, it means I’m thinking of you.” Tonight. At an age where we lacked for nothing. The tungsten light flickered countless times. I looked up and said to Carter, “Did you not fix it properly just now?” He froze, looking down straight into my eyes. “Yeah. “I did it on purpose.” I asked him, “Why?” “If I fixed it, you wouldn’t hear it flicker.” I was stunned. He took the bandage from my hand and swiftly, expertly wrapped it around himself with his other hand. “Audrey Miller.” He called my name. “Hmm?” “Do you prefer hot pot, or cake?” One must always answer questions about food honestly. “Hot pot.”

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My fiancé chased his kept canary all the way to New York. Coincidentally, I was in New York, too. The young girl dropped to her knees in front of me, crying a river of tears. She told me that true love is the only truth. Truth? What a coincidence. I happened to have a few pieces of “truth” right in my hands. 01 My fiancé back in the States made a fool of himself again. To chase down his runaway canary, he locked down an entire private airport. It was a small airfield, and it was late at night. The Vance family’s PR team quickly squashed any media leaks before they could spread. Unfortunately for him, he was still too late. The canary flew to New York one step ahead of him. I originally couldn’t have cared less. Cleaning up his mistresses was Preston Vance’s own problem. But when a stunningly beautiful Asian girl dropped to her knees in front of me, crying a river of picture-perfect tears, it naturally drew the stares of passersby. I stood at the top of the steps, frowning as I looked her up and down: “What was your name again? ‘Miss Innocent’ or something?” The girl froze, her tears hesitating on her lashes. She offered a stiff rebuttal: “It’s Aria.” I had a vague impression of this mistress who had been with Preston the longest. But that didn’t mean she was worth remembering. Over the years, I knew Preston constantly surrounded himself with women because he resented our arranged engagement. But causing a scene right to my face. She was the first. My expression gradually shifted to impatience: “What do you want from me?” She really was a professional actress. The paused tears immediately started flowing again, dropping like broken strings of pearls. “Ms. Sterling, Preston loves me. Please, I’m begging you, let him go. Stop clinging to him.” I raised an eyebrow. Clinging? I let out a cold laugh, looking down at her: “Ms. Montgomery, is that something a homewrecker should really be saying out loud?” “Preston and I knew each other long before you came along! You’re the real third wheel here!” Her face twisted in sudden anger, and she lunged up the steps, trying to grab me. My bodyguards, naturally quick on their feet, intercepted her immediately. In the chaos, she twisted her ankle and tumbled down the concrete steps. Gasps erupted from the crowd. In the surging sea of people, I could see the flashes of paparazzi cameras hiding in the shadows. The company I held a controlling stake in was about to go public on the US stock market, and I couldn’t afford any scandals right now. I scanned the area, and right on cue, I saw Preston wearing a black trench coat, shoving his way through the crowd. He had lost all of his usual aristocratic composure. His dark eyes were filled with panic and heartache. He took off his coat and draped it over Aria’s exposed long legs. Then he pinched her chin, and kissed her fiercely. His eyes were burning with an intense, undeniable possessiveness. The man’s voice was hoarse and restrained: “Run again, and I’ll break your legs.” Aria tilted her chin up stubbornly: “If I can’t have all of you, I’d rather die.” After their intense public display, they turned to look at me in perfect unison. Preston’s dark eyes were furious: “Serena Sterling, didn’t I warn you not to mess with Aria? “You actually dared to push her. Who gave you the nerve?” My eyebrow twitched violently. Who was messing with who here? With her backer present, Aria looked triumphant: “Sister, you’re a bit older, so maybe you don’t understand. In today’s society, the woman who isn’t loved is the real mistress. “True love is the only truth.” Her tone was incredibly provocative. What a perfect, dramatic scene straight out of a billionaire romance novel. The glass windows nearby reflected my face. With my long, straight black hair and cold, indifferent expression, I really did look like the evil second female lead trying to tear the star-crossed lovers apart. Beautiful, rich, and completely wicked. But I wasn’t an idiot. And real life wasn’t a movie. I smiled at her: “Truth? “What a coincidence. I happen to hold a few pieces of ‘truth’ right in my hands.” The sharp, metallic clicks of guns cocking echoed from behind me. I ground my teeth. How dare they threaten me on American soil? Did these two morons forget that it’s perfectly legal to carry firearms here? Aria shrank into Preston’s arms like a terrified rabbit, looking pathetic. But no matter how tough Preston liked to talk, he wasn’t going to argue with a bullet. “Preston, when you said you wanted to play around, I let it slide. But if you try to put your dirty laundry on the table, don’t blame me for flipping the table over.” I narrowed my eyes at him, my tone utterly merciless. He had been preparing to scoop Aria up and leave. Hearing my words, he let out a cold scoff: “Serena, do you honestly still think you’re the untouchable sole heiress of the Sterling family? “Stop hiding out overseas and daydreaming. Next time we meet, you might have already been kicked off the board.” The fact that the Sterling family had an illegitimate son was no longer a secret. It was currently the biggest gossip back in Chicago high society, and had even made the front page of the local financial journals. Preston left under the escort of his own bodyguards. My assistant stood by my side, her expression grim: “Ms. Sterling, the domestic headquarters just suspended all joint projects with us.” I squinted into the distance: “Prepare to fly back to the States.” Preston, did you really think that bastard could beat me? You backed the wrong side. 02 The Sterling and Vance families practically built their empires on the same boat decades ago. The Sterlings spent decades in heavy manufacturing. The Vances rode the wave of the economic boom. One manufactured, one exported. Together, they carved out an empire. But later, the Sterling family transitioned from factories to a massive corporate conglomerate, developing its own global brands. Our reliance on the Vance family grew smaller and smaller. But my engagement to Preston was settled by my grandmother’s generation. The old lady was born in the post-war era. She was iron-willed, decisive, and had a thunderous personality. In her youth, she was a legendary female entrepreneur and the absolute authority of the Sterling family. Beatrice Sterling’s word was the absolute law in the Sterling family. Even after her death, no one dared to disobey her. Beatrice was steadfast her entire life, changing her own decision only once when I was eight years old. She changed the name of the company from Sterling Global to Serena Global. That day, she was as strict as ever, staring at me with her eagle-like eyes. She said seriously, word by word: “Serena, remember this. From now on, the ‘Serena’ in Serena Global is your name. “You must ensure that this empire always belongs to the Sterlings.” Upon returning to the States, I went straight home. The mansion felt a bit emptier than it had when I left the country two years ago. My mother sat elegantly on the sofa, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, reading the newspaper. I poured myself a cup of tea and asked casually: “Did you clean everything out?” “Yes. The trash man and his trash belongings have all been thrown out.” I frowned: “You didn’t let him take half the assets, did you?” My mother looked up at me. “Do you think your mother signed a prenup for nothing?” Then she let out a long sigh: “Ah, back then I was so resentful. But now it proves your grandmother was an excellent judge of character. You are much more steady than I am.” I smiled helplessly: “Did you hit them?” My mother’s expression was somewhat proud: “Robert Cole, that little homewrecker, and their bastard son. I slapped all three of them.” I gave her a thumbs-up. “Next Wednesday is the Sinclair family’s golden anniversary gala. Go in my place.” She suddenly turned dead serious: “We absolutely cannot lose that partnership with the Sinclairs.” I swirled the tea in my cup, speaking lazily: “Of course.” 03 The Sinclairs were an incredibly deep-rooted family in Chicago. The elder Sinclairs were generous, low-key, and had vast connections. So it wasn’t surprising to see Preston at the golden anniversary gala. And standing right beside him was Aria. The radiant woman looked over at me, raising her red wine glass from afar and shooting me a provocative smile. I could barely make out her mouthed words: “I’m the winner, loser.” I was slightly displeased. After all, the Vance family and I hadn’t formally broken off the engagement yet. Preston blatantly bringing his mistress to a major high-society gala was a direct slap to my face. People around us were already waiting to see me become a laughingstock. Harper Sinclair appeared beside me, flashing a triumphant grin: “How is it, babe? I personally invited Aria here.” I pinched her cheek: “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” “How could I bear to kill you? I’m obviously giving you a chance to vent.” She blinked her cunning eyes: “Do you know why Aria is acting so arrogant right now?” I replied calmly: “It’s nothing more than her thinking she’s secured her spot on the Vance family ship, and the Vances are backing my dad’s illegitimate son.” Robert Cole had put on a brilliant act all these years. My mother’s health had always been poor. For years, he was the one managing the corporate affairs. Not only did he hide an illegitimate son older than me from everyone, but he also made the outside world believe he held the real power in Serena Global, even quietly placing his bastard son in the Vice President seat of a subsidiary. Preston was currently chatting happily with that illegitimate son, Jackson Cole. The people around them were subtly trying to suck up and join their circle. In contrast, my side was empty. No one dared to approach me. I had only been out of the country for two years, and these people had already forgotten who owned the Sterling name. Harper’s face suddenly turned cold: “Today, I’m going to show these people who really deserves to sit at the table.” She set down her wine glass and walked toward the center of the banquet with a bright smile: “Tonight, I specially invited Ms. Aria Montgomery to celebrate my grandparents’ golden anniversary. I heard that before Ms. Montgomery got into acting, she graduated from Juilliard. Why don’t you grace us with a dance?” Aria’s face instantly froze. Asking a guest to perform for the room was tantamount to public humiliation. Harper asked coldly: “What’s wrong? Is Ms. Montgomery unwilling? Or do you think our Sinclair family isn’t worthy?” The elder Sinclairs looked over as well. This caused Preston, who was about to step in, to halt his movements. Gritting her teeth, Aria performed a short routine. Because she hadn’t practiced in so long, she nearly tripped and fell several times in the middle of it. Harper walked up and patted her shoulder: “Asking you to dance was doing you a favor. Too bad your skills are so awful it ruined the mood.” Aria’s eyes turned red with anger, and she ran out crying. As she passed me, she didn’t forget to drop a harsh threat: “Serena Sterling, I’m not going to let you get away with this. Your days of being happy are numbered.” And from beginning to end, I didn’t even grant her a single direct glance. Harper returned to my side, fishing for credit: “How was that? Satisfying?” I nodded honestly. “So… about that European market expansion project?” Her eyes sparkled. I smiled fondly: “It was always yours. But are you sure you can keep your brother in check?” “Relax. You’ve been abroad for two years, do you think I was just sitting around? When Grandpa called Mason home to handle this project, that idiot was probably still panting in some random woman’s bed. He made Grandpa so mad he almost ended up in the hospital, which let me swoop in and steal the deal. “If Mason is useless, the Sinclairs will naturally have someone else step up for him.” The woman’s face was painted with inevitable ambition. I looked across the room at Preston, who was clinking glasses with Mason while absentmindedly glancing toward the exit, and I let out a mocking laugh. My fiancé… your taste is consistently terrible. 04 Shortly after the banquet ended, a video of a drunk Preston kissing Aria was sent to my phone. The exclusive private VIP lounge was mostly empty. They were surrounded by just a handful of Preston’s rich, trust-fund frat brothers. The lighting was dim and hazy. Aria’s eyes were still slightly red, making the seductive look in her eyes even more pitiful. “Preston, who do you really like? Serena or me?” Preston lay back on the black leather sofa, his collar undone, his arm wrapped around the woman’s slender waist as he narrowed his eyes: “Who the hell is Serena Sterling? Does she even deserve to be compared to you?” With that, they started making out as if no one else was in the room. Was this a direct warning right to my face? Who gave these trust-fund idiots the nerve? My gaze landed on the table in front of Preston. Printed on it was a logo I was intimately familiar with. I made a phone call: “Kill the main breaker for the entire lounge. And lock the doors.” The manager on the other end answered nervously: “Ms. Sterling, there are still VIPs inside. Mr. Vance is still here.” “If he wasn’t there, why would I tell you to cut the power?” The manager shut his mouth. “If he dares to come smash up the place tomorrow, call the police immediately, and contact the corporate legal department.” I heard that Preston and his little mistress spent the entire night playing a real-life “escape room.” When he finally saw the lounge’s logo and realized what had happened, he was so furious he kicked the doors several times. Preston hated me even more after that. He called me the very next day to drop a threat: “Serena Sterling, you just wait. The entire Sterling family is going to pay the price for your stupidity.” 05 Speaking of which, Preston and I did try legitimately dating for two months. On the day of our engagement, he was so happy he almost forgot himself. Even every time he saw me, there was a bit more tenderness in his eyes. Of course, it wasn’t because he loved me so much. But because he felt like he had finally won once. Preston and I were born in the same year. When we were born, the Sterling and Vance families were still in their honeymoon phase. But as the sole son and daughter of both families, we inevitably got compared. From who walked first, to who talked first, to our grades, and extracurriculars, both families were secretly competing. And I completely crushed him every time. I was even better at throwing a punch than he was. But Preston’s parents had a surprisingly great attitude about it. Every time they saw me, they still liked me very much. Until one time in the courtyard, when no one else was around. Mrs. Vance held my hand, smiling warmly: “My future daughter-in-law is so capable. You’ll definitely be able to help Preston run the company well in the future.” After she said that, she let out a faux-sympathetic sigh: “It’s just a pity your mother’s health was poor since childhood. She had a girl and couldn’t have any more.” It was only then that I realized that the Vance family’s ultimate trump card was simply the fact that their family heir had male anatomy. This was a concept my brain, born into the Sterling family, couldn’t comprehend. After all, my mother had aborted two male fetuses just for my sake. When Preston grew up, he naturally inherited his parents’ ideology. He wanted a bird in a cage, a submissive housewife. He believed that in a marriage, a wife was naturally supposed to submit. So he was happy to marry me. He could only win in marriage, and he only needed to win in marriage. Unfortunately, by the second month after our engagement, he couldn’t control himself. At a yacht party, he was kissing a girl on each arm. I only used one slap to make him see reality clearly. Then I had someone throw him into the ocean. I remember that day was Christmas. The seawater was freezing, the winter night bitterly cold. He was in the hospital for a full week. Preston’s parents came to our door to cause a scene. My mother refused to even see them. She only asked me one sentence: “As long as you want, the engagement can be canceled at any time.” I laughed lightly and comforted her: “As long as I want, I have ten thousand ways to make them actively cancel the engagement. “But not right now.” The Vance family was no longer suitable as an ally, but their foundation was still there. “But don’t worry, Mom. This kind of man is not entering the Sterling family’s door.” And since then, Preston completely hated me. Now that the conflict had intensified again, I figured it was time for the Vance family to make their move. 06 The public opinion attacks against Serena Global came faster than I imagined. Firing the first shot was the video of me pushing Aria down the steps in New York. Aria was a rising star; she had plenty of fans willing to charge the front lines for her. In less than a day, it pushed me to the top trending spots on all major social media platforms. Under every related video, there were long essays detailing the epic romance between the billionaire heir and the beautiful starlet, from childhood sweethearts to star-crossed lovers. The so-called “childhood sweethearts” was nothing more than Aria’s childhood dance troupe performing at the Vance estate. A blurry video where you couldn’t even clearly see eyes, noses, or mouths was dug up as “proof,” paired with emotional background music, making it look almost real. As for the descriptions of me, they claimed I was morally bankrupt. Soon, the news of my US-controlled company preparing to go public was also pushed into the spotlight. Financial media and bloggers intentionally or unintentionally hinted that the Sterling family was suspected of transferring assets offshore. The Sterling family was branded as unpatriotic. The stock plummeted for three days. I scrolled through the vicious comments on a stock trading app, calmly sipping my tea. At the other end of the table, the wealthy wives sat close together, occasionally covering their mouths to laugh at something Aria said to amuse them. This was a gathering hosted by Mrs. Davis. I never liked these types of gatherings that revolved around cheating husbands, kids studying abroad, comparing whose husband came home for dinner more often, and who had hidden more secret funds. But my mother wasn’t feeling well, so I could only take her place. One wife, egged on by the others, came over with malicious intent: “Oh, Serena, I heard the Sterling family stock dropped quite a bit. If you’re short on funds, don’t hide it in your heart. Tell us, maybe everyone can help you think of a solution.” I set down my teacup and smiled faintly: “It’s true that the Sterling family stock market evaporated tens of billions these past few days. I just wonder if Mrs. Davis’s secret slush fund is enough to cover it?” Mrs. Davis’s face was completely embarrassed. The other wives, who didn’t know much about the stock market, were all startled. Another woman spoke up: “Is your Sterling family going to go bankrupt? What about my husband’s contract with you guys?” “Mrs. King, please relax. Your husband was just doing a three-way battle at a hotel recently. He’s not worried, so you shouldn’t be either.” Mrs. King’s face turned black as well: “Young girls nowadays are just so sharp-tongued and impulsive. Not like my son studying in the US. He’s mature and steady, just waiting to graduate from Harvard and come back to take over the family business.” I spun the teacup, speaking with a faint smile: “Your son is indeed a handsome young man. And his boyfriend is quite dashing as well. The last time I saw them in New York, I was kind enough to remind them that HIV is still quite serious in the States.” Mrs. Wright clutched her heart and frantically started dialing her phone. Aria let out a cold laugh: “What’s the use of only being good with your mouth? You’re offending so many powerful wives. Are you complaining that the Sterling family isn’t dying fast enough? “Serena Sterling, Preston is mine now, and the Sterling family is finished. I really want to see what you’ll use to prop up your stupidity and arrogance when you lose everything you used to rely on.” Preston walked into the courtyard wearing a black coat. He lovingly took Aria’s outstretched hand and put it into his pocket. He completely ignored my existence as his fiancée. Was it just because of catching him cheating a few years ago and slapping him a few times? He was holding a grudge for this long? I thought to myself, completely unbothered. While keeping my eyes on the notification sent to my phone. In fifteen days, Serena Global would hold an emergency board of directors meeting.

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After my car accident, the brother who always hated me came to visit. His eyes were cold as he asked, “Do you remember who I am?” I didn’t have amnesia, but I lied to him anyway. “I remember. You’re my husband, aren’t you?” His dark eyes shifted away. After a few seconds, he replied almost inaudibly, “Yeah.” 01 Today was my birthday. But the first thing my brother said when he saw me was, “What are you pretending for?” When I didn’t answer, he kicked my hospital bed. “Speak. What kind of trick is this now?” He had blocked me. If the hospital hadn’t called him, he wouldn’t be here. Outside, a nurse called out to him. “Family member, please sign here.” He was broad-shouldered with a sharp jawline, looking striking as he stood by the door. The police arrived. “Are you Ryan Carter?” He paused, pen in hand, and nodded. The police explained the cause of the accident. Some thugs Ryan had crossed paths with heard he had a girlfriend he treasured. They wanted to kidnap her for revenge. “Your sister and your girlfriend look too much alike.” The police said they got the wrong person. While fleeing with a sprained ankle, I was hit by a car. That’s how I ended up in the hospital. Ryan’s pen hovered in the air. He didn’t move for a long time. “Is it really that serious?” he asked. “They had knives. “Any slower, and you’d be signing for a body in the morgue. “She had a severe head injury when she was brought in,” the nurse asked him. “Why wasn’t your phone connecting?” He was with his girlfriend, Chloe. Today was their one-year anniversary. Chloe had purposely chosen my birthday to get together with him. Just so that, year after year on my birthday, Ryan would only be with her, not me. Back then, Chloe stood at my bedroom door wearing his shirt and asked me: “Did you know, Mia? “Everything he wouldn’t do with you, he did with me.” Ryan signed the papers. He sat by my bed, silent. I reached out for a drink of water. He grabbed my arm and pushed my sleeve up. Shocking, dark bruises and scabs, varying in depth, were exposed. He stared at them intently. Almost instinctively, he started unbuttoning my hospital gown. The red marks spreading from my collarbone. I clutched the fabric at my chest to stop him from going further. His gaze paused on my bra strap. Only then did he calm down. He let go, sat back in his chair, and stared darkly at my rumpled collar. “Where else?” I shook my head. His phone rang. It was Chloe. He glanced at it, then silenced it. He got up and went outside to call her back. He couldn’t bear to ignore her call; he couldn’t let her suffer even the slightest grievance. Through the glass, I watched the annoyance on his face gradually smooth out. He said, “I’ll be back soon.” He was still going back to her, even though I was lying in a hospital bed. With no one to care for me. Ryan returned to the room. His eyes were cold as he asked, “Do you remember who I am?” I didn’t have amnesia, but I lied to him anyway. “I remember. You’re my husband, aren’t you?” A dead silence filled the room. His dark eyes shifted away. After a few seconds, he replied almost inaudibly, “Yeah.” It wasn’t that I loved him to death. I was disgusted by him. In two weeks, I would completely leave this place. Right when he was most invested. I would vanish from the face of the earth. And he had no idea. 02 Ryan and I were from a blended family. He and his mom moved into the house I shared with my dad. A massive fire. It blackened the afternoon of July 24th. The teacher sent us both home. My dad died on the spot. His mom held on in the hospital until winter, draining all the money we had. Before she passed, she held Ryan’s hand and made him swear. “You must protect your sister and be good to her.” “I swear,” he said. When we returned to school, we only had each other. He had perfect scores in math. He topped the class for three years in middle school, but then he changed. He started skipping class. He’d vanish into internet cafes, impossible to find. When the principal came for a home visit, he only found me gnawing on stale bread, unable to even offer a cup of hot water. “I’m sorry, Mr. Davis. I couldn’t pay the gas bill.” Mr. Davis opened his wallet and left several crisp bills on the coffee table. He never visited again. The next year, I got into a top high school but couldn’t afford the tuition. Relatives urged me to drop out and work in a factory. “What’s the point of a girl studying so much?” Ryan kicked the door open and coldly chased them away. He had been constantly playing games for others online, working all night to make money. He was so thin and pale. He gave all the money to me. He said he would make money to support me. “You keep studying. Go as far as you can.” I lived in the dorms during high school and rarely saw him. But rumors about him were everywhere. He grew more attractive as he got older. Tall, smoking, fighting, with a cold, rebellious vibe. I heard many girls chased after him, but he never cared. Our only interaction was my meal card. Topped up right on time every month. One Friday night during sophomore year, a senior who was pursuing me followed me all the way to my front door. He bumped into Ryan, who was taking out his keys to unlock the door. Ryan had a cut on his brow, smoke rings curling around his lazy eyes, shrouded in mist. The senior froze. Ryan reached out, hooked his arm around my neck, opened the door, and closed it. Without a single word, he left the guy outside. “Ryan.” I turned around, wanting to explain. He pointed at the table. A cake. Stars hanging from the curtains. He had fixed the camcorder my dad left me, which had a video of my dad singing me happy birthday. “Ryan,” I asked him, “will you always celebrate my birthday with me?” He rested his forehead against mine. “Duh.” He chuckled softly, “If not me, who else do you want to celebrate it with?” After that, he waited for me at the school gate every Friday. In the sea of people, he could always spot me instantly. This continued until right before summer vacation, when I borrowed his computer for research. I saw a chat window he hadn’t closed. His friend asked him: [You’re not even going to LA for the tournament? [Do you really want to be dragged down by her your whole life? [You’re not even blood-related, you’ll separate eventually.] He only replied with one sentence. [Yeah, waiting until she graduates.] I only had him. Driven by some inexplicable impulse, I clicked on the search bar and typed: [Is it illegal to marry a stepbrother with no blood relation?] Hundreds of pages of results. I was so engrossed I didn’t realize Ryan had entered the room and was standing behind me. I looked at the webpage. He looked at me. Neither of us said a word. When I realized it, I slammed the laptop shut, so tense and ashamed I couldn’t speak. He grabbed his jacket that night and left. He didn’t come back all night. He didn’t come back for the entire summer I was home. Until I needed to pay for my prep classes. He paid for them. Hands in his pockets, wearing a black hoodie, he waited for me at the end of the alley after class. Drawing the attention of many girls. As soon as I arrived, he saw me. This was where we met Chloe. Wearing a white dress, a face as small as a palm, delicate features. Tears in her eyes, she bypassed me and gently tugged at Ryan’s shirt. “Ryan.” She asked him. “Can I walk with you guys for a bit?” Someone was following her. At that moment, Ryan just looked at her. Just a brief glance. So brief, yet my premonition beat as strongly as my heart. He couldn’t refuse Chloe. 03 Chloe had dropped out of school a long time ago. She lived with her grandmother, who had passed away a few months prior. Ryan was also raised by his grandmother when he was little. We walked her all the way to her door. Only to find out the landlord had changed the locks because she was behind on rent. She looked at Ryan, helpless and frantic. Ryan didn’t say anything. But he brought her home. Our apartment only had two bedrooms: mine and Ryan’s. Chloe looked at me, then peeked into my room. She wanted to share a room with me. “You take the couch,” Ryan threw a blanket at her. “Don’t bother my sister, she has exams. You’re leaving tomorrow.” She obediently curled up on the couch. Wrapped in the blanket, a small ball, coughing all night. In the morning, she made a whole table of food for Ryan. She didn’t say a word, didn’t fight for anything. And left on her own. Ryan didn’t ask her to stay. He stood outside the door watching her go. The early winter wind scattered the smoke from his cigarette. The next day, I went back to school. When the following Friday rolled around, I was glad class didn’t run late. Full of anticipation, I squeezed through the crowd, looking for Ryan at the school gate. He was still there. I waved at him, then saw Chloe standing next to him. They came together. Chloe was afraid of the cold and was even wearing Ryan’s jacket. In less than a week. My room was adorned with Chloe’s pink bead curtains, and her makeup crowded my things off the desk. Her clothes were piled on my messy bed. “You’re rarely home,” she explained. “I’m just crashing here for a bit. You don’t mind, right?” I walked in. And yanked her curtain down. Along with all her stuff, I threw it all out the door. “Who said you could touch my things?” She crouched down, her eyes red as she looked at the curtain. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Mia, I made this for you myself. It’s all my fault.” Ryan leaned against the wall, his eyes cold. “It is her room,” he told Chloe. “You sleep on the couch.” Chloe was very obedient. Before going to sleep, she apologized to me again and again in front of Ryan. She curled up on the couch. Whenever the wind rattled Ryan’s door, she would cough. It made your heart clench. In the middle of the night. I was woken up by her faint breathing. She was standing outside my door, saying to Ryan, “The living room window is drafty. Can I sleep on your floor?” The wind kept blowing the door open and shut. I knew he let her in. The next morning, as dawn was just breaking. Neither of them was awake yet. I braved the biting wind and went back to school. 04 A lot of guys chased Chloe; she was very likable. Ryan knew that too. Because of this, he got into quite a few fights for her. Starting my senior year, I barely went home. When it was time to pay tuition, I used the money I had earned from working. “Here, paying you back.” I went to the internet cafe and found Ryan. I returned the tuition money he had paid for me. At the time, he was running a fever from a recent fight, but was still playing games for clients. “What, my money isn’t good enough for you?” The corners of his eyes and brows looked increasingly decadent and feral. His words were ice cold. “I saved up enough myself. Take care of your injuries and stop fighting—” “None of your business.” He impatiently snatched the money and threw it on the desk. “I can’t even get you to live at home, and you want to tell me what to do?” He knew exactly why I didn’t want to go home. He said if I didn’t want his money, plenty of others did. He used the tuition money to buy Chloe a dress that cost over a thousand dollars. Winter break during senior year was very short. I only stayed home for a week. But Chloe couldn’t even tolerate me for that one week. Her tactics weren’t very sophisticated. She claimed I took her dress. I scoffed and immediately tore my room apart. “Open your damn eyes and look. Where is your dress?” Ryan walked in just as I said that. He looked at me flatly. Like I was a stranger. “Give it back to her.” “I didn’t take it.” I was desperate, my mind racing for any way to prove my innocence. But I met the eyes of Chloe standing behind him. Why did I have to prove myself, but she didn’t? A sour ache welled up in my throat. The dress was eventually found in the dumpster downstairs, cut to shreds. Ryan demanded I apologize. I refused. I confronted him: “You believe her, but not me?” Chloe pulled his arm: “Forget it, it’s fine.” Ryan picked up the seashell keychain on my desk to threaten me. We made it together the first time our whole family went to the beach. “Mia, if you don’t apologize, I’ll smash this.” He knew what I cared about most. I only felt a creeping chill rise from my feet. I reached out, smacked the seashell keychain from his hand, and watched it shatter on the floor. He stared blankly at the broken pieces. Then looked at me in disbelief. “I don’t want it anymore,” I said, enunciating every word. He gathered his expression, gave a cold scoff, and asked: “Do you know why I don’t believe you? “You don’t care about the dress. You just can’t stand me buying things for her. “You know exactly what kind of filthy thoughts are in your head.” He laid my feelings bare over the shattered pieces on the floor. Without leaving a shred of dignity. I turned around and left the apartment. It was New Year’s Eve, and it was snowing outside. No one came looking for me. It was too cold. I stayed at the public bathhouse until it closed, nowhere else to go. I still ended up back at the apartment. Only Chloe was inside. She said she was hungry, so Ryan went out to buy New Year’s dinner. At that time, Chloe stood at my bedroom door, wearing his shirt, and asked me: “Did you know, Mia? “In the few hours you were gone. “Everything he wouldn’t do with you, he did with me.” I never went home again until after the college entrance exams. I ranked first in the entire school. I could go to the best university in the state capital. Ryan went to LA for a gaming tournament. It wasn’t until July 24th, when I went to the mountains to visit my dad’s grave. He called me from the hospital. Anxious and terrified, I pedaled my bike as fast as I could. All the way there, holding back tears, praying to God. He was my only family left. But when I arrived, he was sitting in the emergency room waiting area. He wasn’t the one hurt. Some thugs he had trouble with targeted Chloe while he was away. He grabbed my wrist, bombarding me with questions. “Chloe said she called you for help. Why did you ignore her? “You better pray she’s okay.” He gripped me so hard it hurt. “I didn’t know. There’s no signal in the mountains.” He suddenly remembered what day it was. He let go. Silence. He watched the people coming and going in the ER. And only said one thing to me: “Leave. “Go to college and don’t come back.” I walked out of the hospital doors and couldn’t find my beat-up bike for a long time. I was in such a rush earlier, I didn’t know where I parked it. I turned around and saw Chloe coming out. Superficial injuries. A band-aid on her hand. Crying uncontrollably in Ryan’s arms. Ryan thought I only applied to universities in the state capital. Not too far away. He could see me with a two-hour drive. He just never expected I would apply to an Ivy League school on the East Coast. Thousands of miles away from him. I never went back once. Never made a single phone call. During the summer of my sophomore year, I was tutoring. While I was in the bathroom, my high school student answered my phone as a prank. “He said he’s your brother.” The student handed the phone to me with a mischievous grin. “I told him I’m your boyfriend.” I took the phone: “Hello?” Ryan was silent on the other end for a long time. Finally, through gritted teeth, he forced out a laugh and said two words. “Very capable.” He hung up and blocked me. We never contacted each other again.

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