Category: English

I was working late when my smart home app pinged me. Someone had opened the front door. Only Emily and I had registered fingerprints. Emily was three months pregnant. Worried something had happened to her, I opened the live feed. I was about to call the police. But what I saw stopped me cold. She was naked from the waist up, her pregnant belly showing. She was on top of her childhood friend, moving up and down. “Tristan, be gentle. I’m carrying your child.” My heart sank. She had told me the baby was mine. I pulled up every security video from the past few months. They had been having sex all over the house while I worked overtime. I downloaded everything. Tomorrow was our wedding anniversary. At the party, I would give them a gift they’d never forget. Ethan’s POV Emily was three months pregnant. We were supposed to announce the baby at our first anniversary party. The party was at our house. She had picked the house herself. The day she got the keys, she told me this would be our home. Just the two of us. No one would ever take my place. But before the party even started, Emily invited another man to sit at the head table. Years ago, Tristan took a blow meant for Emily. His right hand was permanently injured. His arranged engagement fell apart because of it. The Hayes family felt they owed him. They’d been carrying that debt for years. All the way to today. Now Emily’s unborn child already had someone trying to claim a place for him. Emily’s mother, Linda, spoke first. “Ethan, Tristan isn’t a stranger. If it weren’t for him back then, Emily would be dead. When the child has birthdays in the future, surely he can at least sit at the family table?” Another person piled on. “You’re about to be a father. Be more generous. Tristan doesn’t want any title. He just wants to feel included.” I sat beside Emily, my fingers slowly tightening. Tristan kept his head down, his voice soft. “Forget it. Don’t make things difficult for Ethan. The child is his and Emily’s. What right do I have to interfere?” The moment he said that, the table went even quieter. Linda’s eyes reddened. “You’re too understanding. That’s why people keep taking advantage of you.” “Ethan wouldn’t be that petty, would he?” “Tristan’s hand is ruined. What’s wrong with letting him be close to the child?” Every sentence was a blow to my face. I’d been afraid of scenes like this since I was a child. Even when something was clearly mine, as long as someone else cried harder, I had to give it up. But Emily stood up. She was wearing a formal dress, her belly not yet prominent, her voice steady. “The child is Ethan’s and mine. This house is Ethan’s and mine. The Hayes family owes Tristan, and I’ll repay that debt. If his right hand needs treatment, I’ll pay for it. If he has no one to take care of him, I’ll arrange for someone. But his name won’t be written into the child’s trust, and he won’t have access to our house.” Everyone at the table froze. Linda’s face darkened. “Emily, don’t forget who he became like this for.” “I haven’t forgotten.” Emily looked at Tristan. “That’s why I’ll compensate him. But I won’t use my husband to do it.” I looked up at her. In that moment, I truly believed Emily still remembered what she had said. The day our house was completed, she placed the keys in my palm. “From now on,” she said, “no outsiders. No relatives staying over. No one rearranging your things.” I had said, “Not even your savior?” Emily had smiled and answered, “No one.” I believed her. Before the party, Linda called Emily away to change her dress. I went to the study alone. In the study drawer was an anniversary ring with the date of our house’s completion engraved on the inside. I had planned to put the ring back on Emily’s finger after we announced the baby. But the computer was on. A security footage backup file sat alone on the desktop, labeled with the date of the night I had been on a business trip. The home security system had been installed after Emily got pregnant. It only recorded the door access and hallway. I had never checked it before. Now that backup file sat right in the center of the screen. I clicked it open. At one in the morning, Tristan used the access code to open our front door, as naturally as if he were coming home. He walked straight toward the master bedroom. A few minutes later, Emily appeared in the hallway. She didn’t call the housekeeper. She didn’t stop him. The master bedroom door opened, then closed. The camera couldn’t capture inside the room, but Tristan didn’t come out all night. Just before dawn, the master bedroom door finally opened. Tristan came out first, with Emily following behind. They stood at the end of the hallway talking. Tristan laughed softly. “After the child is born, surely he can’t be the only one the kid calls ‘Dad,’ right?” Emily’s voice was tight. “Don’t make a scene tonight. Don’t provoke Ethan at the party.” “You know better than anyone how this child came to be.” Emily didn’t argue. She only said, “Remember what you promised me.” Applause suddenly erupted from downstairs. The host was calling for us. “Please welcome Mr. Hayes and Miss Emily to the stage. There’s good news to announce tonight!” I stared at the master bedroom door on the screen. The anniversary ring in my hand dropped onto the desk with a soft clink.

Ethan’s POV By the time I came downstairs, the lights in the banquet hall were blindingly bright. Emily was waiting for me at the side of the stage. Seeing my expression, she reached out to steady me. “Ethan, are you feeling unwell?” I looked at her belly, then at Tristan standing behind her. Tristan was holding a glass of wine, also looking at me. His face was clean, as if he hadn’t entered the master bedroom last night at all. The host invited us onto the stage. Emily took my arm and faced the room full of friends and family, her voice gentle. “Tonight, there’s also some good news. I’m three months pregnant.” Applause immediately filled the room. Linda smiled with red-rimmed eyes. The Hayes family applauded while urging me to say a few words. Emily continued, “This child is the greatest gift of Ethan’s and my marriage.” She spoke so calmly. You’d never know about the security footage. Never guess about the words in the hallway. “You know better than anyone how this child came to be.” Tristan raised his glass with a smile. “Emily, Ethan, congratulations.” Everyone was looking at me, waiting for me to say I was going to be a father. Emily’s fingers pressed lightly against my arm. I took the microphone and only said, “Tonight is indeed very important.” I handed the microphone back. The atmosphere stiffened for a moment. Emily quickly smiled and covered for me. “That’s just how Ethan is. The happier he is, the less he can say.” The room laughed again. No one knew my hands had already gone cold and stiff. The party continued. Family members gathered around Emily. Some asked who would accompany her to the next checkup, others said the nursery should be changed to the south-facing room, and some were already calculating who would wait at the hospital when the baby was born. Emily answered everything smoothly. I stood nearby, and with every sentence I heard, I thought of Tristan’s words: “He can’t be the only one the kid calls ‘Dad.’” I went to the terrace. I had just stopped when Tristan came over with a glass of wine. “Ethan, congratulations.” Tristan’s voice was very low. “But why didn’t you bring out the anniversary ring tonight? I saw it in the study.” I turned to look at him. Tristan smiled slightly, his gaze falling on Emily’s belly inside the banquet hall. “That ring is quite a pity. But what Emily should be wearing tonight might not be something you gave her.” He paused, his smile deepening. “Something from the child’s real father would be more appropriate.” My grip on the wine glass tightened sharply. But Tristan stepped back. “Don’t be angry. There are too many people here tonight. If you make a scene, the one who’ll be embarrassed is Emily, and the child. You wouldn’t want the child to be called dirty before it’s even born, would you?” I set my wine glass down on the terrace edge. The base struck the stone surface with a crisp sound. After the party ended, Linda brought a trust document for the child to me. “Ethan, sign this. It specifies which school the child will attend, where they’ll live, which funds will be used for medical care. Everything’s written out in advance so there’s no confusion later.” I opened the document. Tristan’s name was written clearly in the “Long-term Care Participant” section. I stared at those words and let out a short laugh. Linda frowned. “What are you laughing at?” I ignored her and looked at Emily instead. “Did you know about this?” Emily paused for a second. That second was enough. She said, “I knew, but this doesn’t affect your status as the father.” I pushed the document in front of her. “Status as the father?” Emily’s expression changed slightly. The Hayes family immediately chimed in. “Tristan was ruined back then for Emily’s sake. Now, before the child is even born, you’re already shutting him out. Isn’t that inappropriate?” Tristan sat to one side and said quietly, “Forget it. Emily, don’t argue because of me. I shouldn’t have asked for these things in the first place.” Linda’s heart ached even more. “Look how understanding he is.” Emily reached out to take my hand. “Ethan, you can take your time reviewing the document. Tristan won’t take anything away from you. He just needs to be accepted by this family.” I pulled my hand back. I closed the document without signing. “I’m tired.” With that, I turned and went upstairs. I stopped at the master bedroom door. This used to be the place where I felt most at ease. Emily had refused to let relatives stay over, and she had refused to let the elders come in and redecorate. She said the master bedroom belonged only to the two of us. Now the door was closed, but all I could see was the image of Tristan walking out of it in the early morning. Emily came after me, softening her voice. “Ethan, you’re being too sensitive tonight. Tristan won’t affect us, and he won’t affect the child calling you Dad.” Every sentence she spoke avoided the question of how the child came to be. I asked, “Does Tristan come to our house often?” Emily’s eyes flickered. “Occasionally.” She said, “His right hand isn’t convenient. My mother worries he’ll have an accident alone, so sometimes she has him come over for a meal or rest in the guest room for a while.” “The guest room?” “Yes, just the guest room.” Emily immediately responded, “Don’t make it sound so ugly.” I looked at her for a long time. If it weren’t for that security footage, I might have actually believed her. I turned and entered the guest room. The moment the door closed, I opened my phone and saved the security backup, the trust document, and the access log pages. Outside the window, Tristan still hadn’t left. He stood at the gate, looking up at the second floor. Through the darkness, he slowly raised his glass toward where I was.

Ethan’s POV The next morning, I didn’t go to Emily to argue. I sat in the study and pulled up the house access log. Tristan had come more than once. Emily said he only occasionally came for a meal and rested in the guest room for a while. But the times in the access log were all chosen for when I was on business trips, working overtime, or not coming home at night. Several times, Tristan entered late at night and didn’t leave until dawn. The access permissions had been opened by Emily herself. I stared at those lines of records and suddenly felt that Emily’s act of covering for me at the main table last night was like an even louder slap in the face. She wasn’t unaware that Tristan had long since stepped into this home. She just wanted to placate me in front of everyone first. At noon, Emily came to the study. She was holding a revised trust document, her tone very low. “I had it revised. Tristan won’t touch the child’s money and won’t make decisions for the child. He’s just participating.” I didn’t take it. “Why does it have to include him?” Emily pressed her lips together. “Ethan, if it weren’t for him back then, I might already be dead. His right hand still can’t function normally, and his engagement fell through. He could have had a good life, but he became like this because of me.” “So?” “I can’t just give him money.” Emily’s voice grew even lower. “He’s not a servant, and he’s not a stranger. I have to make him feel that all these years of suffering weren’t for nothing.” I looked at her. “Then give him a Hayes family house, give him your shares, give him the car and staff under your name.” Emily’s face went pale. I pushed the document back. “Don’t use my child and my house to compensate him.” When Emily heard “my child,” her eyes clearly stiffened. She quickly suppressed it. “Ethan, don’t say that.” She reached out to touch me. “I won’t let you be wronged.” I looked down at that hand. In last night’s footage, it was this hand that had pushed open the master bedroom door. I moved away. Emily’s expression finally darkened. “Then take a few days to calm down.” She left with the document. That evening, Tristan appeared outside the gate. When the housekeeper came in to report, Emily was sitting in the living room. She went downstairs and saw Tristan standing in the wind, his right hand hanging down, his face pale, yet he wouldn’t step inside. Tristan smiled first. “I won’t go in. I don’t want Ethan to see me and think I’m stealing his home.” Emily immediately frowned. “What are you doing standing outside? Come in first.” Tristan shook his head. “Forget it. I won’t come to the house anymore, and I won’t bring up the child again. No one likes having an outsider in their home. I understand.” The word “outsider” had just fallen when I happened to reach the stairway. Emily turned and saw me, her eyes first showing panic, then turning to reproach. As if I had truly driven a pitiful man to stand outside the door. I didn’t speak, nor did I invite Tristan in. Tristan laughed softly and turned to leave. Emily took two steps after him, then stopped. She turned back to look at me. “Did you have to push him to this point?” I stood on the stairs and asked calmly, “Did I close the door?” Emily was blocked. But after that night, calls from the Hayes family came one after another. Some cursed me for being cold-blooded, some said Tristan was understanding enough already, and others said that before the child was even born, I had already made the household restless. I didn’t argue with any of them. I just recorded all the calls and put them in the same folder. The next day, the trust signing was still scheduled. The Hayes family didn’t cancel it, and they even called Tristan. As soon as Tristan entered, he apologized to me first. “Ethan, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put Emily in a difficult position, and I shouldn’t have caused the child to be gossiped about before it’s even born.” His words sounded like a concession. Every word pinned me as the oppressor. Linda immediately looked at me. “Tristan has already said this much. You should at least give him some face.” Emily also looked at me. “The document can be revised later, but don’t make today too awkward for everyone.” I opened the document but didn’t sign. “The trust is suspended. We’ll discuss it after the child is born.” The room instantly went cold. Tristan lowered his head and laughed. The next second, he clutched his right hand, his face going white. Emily was the first to rush over and support him. The Hayes family also gathered around. No one looked at the trust document still sitting on the table. I stood in place, watching Emily tightly support Tristan. Tristan leaned on her and looked up at me. In that gaze, there wasn’t a trace of concession.

Ethan’s POV The trust signing ended just like that. Tristan clutched his right hand while Emily helped him sit down and had the housekeeper bring medicine. The Hayes family surrounded him, all asking about his injury with their mouths while their eyes stabbed at me. Linda was barely containing her anger. “Ethan, did you have to push him on a day like this? Don’t you know who his hand was ruined for?” Tristan immediately spoke. “Don’t blame him. I shouldn’t have come.” The more lightly he spoke, the more the people in the room thought I was cruel. Emily supported Tristan and looked up at me. “Let’s not talk about the trust today. Tristan’s hand hurts so much. Are you going to continue?” I looked at her protective posture and didn’t argue anymore. I gathered up the documents. “That’s it.” When Emily left with Tristan, she didn’t look at me. I returned to the study and reopened the access log. Every time Tristan entered late at night, the source of the permission was crystal clear. Emily had opened it. I saved those pages of records, then placed last night’s security backup beside them. Not long after, there was a knock on the study door. Emily pushed the door open. Seeing the access log on the computer screen, her face changed immediately. I asked, “How many times has Tristan actually come to our house?” Emily was silent for a few seconds. “His right hand isn’t convenient. Sometimes the pain is so bad he can’t sleep. I just let him rest in the guest room.” I clicked on one particular night. “This night, he entered at one in the morning and left at six.” Emily glanced at it and averted her eyes. “That night he was in very bad condition. I took care of him until very late.” “What about the night in the master bedroom?” Emily completely froze. She didn’t ask how I knew, and she didn’t deny it. She only lowered her voice. “I’m pregnant now. I can’t be stressed. Ethan, can we wait until after the child is born to discuss some things?” I laughed. “After the child is born, will Tristan be able to move in smoothly?” “I never thought of letting him replace you!” Emily was agitated. “He was ruined for me back then. Now seeing me with a child, it’s normal for his emotions to spiral.” “His emotions spiraled, so you gave him access to the master bedroom?” Emily’s eyes reddened instantly. She seemed finally pushed to her limit, and her voice grew cold. “You know exactly what I feel most guilty about. Why do you keep tearing it open again and again? I’m caught between you and Tristan. Can’t you be understanding just once?” I didn’t respond. I stood up and opened the study door. “You should rest.” Emily stood at the door and looked at me for a long time. For the first time, I didn’t follow along with her guilt. That night, Tristan suddenly moved out of the residence the Hayes family had arranged for him. He didn’t take much, only leaving behind a note. It was very brief. He said he didn’t want to put Emily in a difficult position anymore, and he didn’t want the child to be caught between adults before it was even born. He wouldn’t participate in the child’s trust, wouldn’t enter our house, and wouldn’t disturb me anymore. Linda saw the note soon after. Her eyes immediately turned red. “Tristan has suffered enough, and now even this bit of hope has been taken from him.” Emily’s first reaction was to call Tristan. No one answered. A few minutes later, Tristan sent a location. An old apartment. That was the place where he had lived during rehabilitation after his accident. Emily grabbed her coat and headed for the door. I stood at the stairway. “You’re pregnant. Going out late at night isn’t safe.” Emily paused, as if thinking I had finally relented. I continued, “I’ll have the driver take you. But Tristan’s house access won’t be restored.” The softening on Emily’s face vanished instantly. She left with anger. An hour later, Tristan sent me a video. In the video, Tristan sat in the living room with medicine beside his right hand. He wasn’t crying, only smiling bitterly. “Emily, I didn’t save you back then to be humiliated like this today.” Emily stood at the door, her chest feeling pressed. Tristan looked up at her. “Ethan can’t tolerate me. I accept that. But after the child is born, will I have to ask his permission even to look at the baby once?” Emily was silent for a long time. Finally, she said, “I’ll handle the access issue.” Tristan lowered his head. “Don’t fight with him because of me.” Emily didn’t say anything more. In the study, my computer displayed a notification. Someone was requesting to restore Tristan’s access.

Ethan’s POV When Emily returned home, she went straight to the study. I was still sitting at the computer. She said directly, “Restore Tristan’s access.” I looked up at her. Emily, as if afraid I’d misunderstand, immediately added, “Only to the guest room and first floor. He won’t enter the master bedroom.” I looked at her. “Do you think the problem is just whether he can enter the master bedroom?” Emily’s face tightened. “His right hand isn’t convenient. When the old injury flares up, he can’t even hold a cup. The access is just a precaution. If something really happens, at least someone will see.” “Then have him stay at a hospital.” “Ethan Hayes!” Emily’s voice dropped. “He became like this because of me. When he’s at his most humiliated, I can’t shut the door on him.” I suddenly laughed. “Then who will shut the door for me, your husband?” Emily was blocked by this statement. Soon, her face went cold again. “You’re making this too dirty, and you’re making me out to be too despicable.” I didn’t say anything more. Right in front of her, I clicked “reject.” A system notification popped up. Emily glanced at it and turned to leave. The next day at noon, Tristan’s friend called. Last night, Tristan’s old injury had flared up. He had tried to get to the hospital by himself, fell halfway there, and was sent to emergency. The caller didn’t directly curse me, but every sentence revolved around that door I had closed. “He used to live at the Hayes place where at least someone could look after him. Now living alone outside, in so much pain, he didn’t even dare to trouble Emily.” By the time Emily and I got to the hospital, the Hayes family was already there. Tristan lay in the hospital bed, his right hand re-immobilized. Seeing her, he smiled first. “I’m fine. Don’t worry. This has nothing to do with Ethan.” Linda’s eyes immediately reddened. “You’re still speaking up for him? If he hadn’t closed the access and forced you out, would you have ended up falling in the street alone in the middle of the night?” Emily stood by the bed and didn’t explain for me. Everyone looked at me. Linda struck first. “Are you satisfied now? Tristan is lying here, and you’ve finally vented your anger?” Tristan tried to sit up. “Stop it. It really wasn’t Ethan’s fault.” As soon as he moved, his face went white. Emily immediately pressed him back down. “Don’t move.” Tristan kept his head down. While she adjusted his blanket, he glanced at me. That glance was light but precise. Linda pointed at me. “Apologize.” I didn’t move. Emily looked up at me, exhaustion filling her eyes. “Tristan has already backed down this much. Even if you’re uncomfortable, you shouldn’t have pushed him to the point of getting hurt.” I asked, “Have you already decided this was my fault?” Emily was silent for a few seconds. “You closed the access. He also moved out because he couldn’t get into the house.” I looked at her and said nothing more. I turned and left the hospital room. That same day, I had someone pull the surveillance footage from near the old apartment and the hospital. The footage was quickly delivered to me. When Tristan left his place, his steps were steady, and his right hand wasn’t in uncontrollable pain. After arriving near the hospital, he deliberately went to a stairwell. Where he fell avoided vital areas but was just enough to reopen the old injury. I saved the video. That evening, I returned home. Emily was sitting in the living room waiting for me. Her first words were, “Tomorrow, go to the hospital and apologize to Tristan. And restore his access.” I placed the video on the table. Seeing Tristan walk toward the stairs himself, Emily’s expression shifted for a moment. I said, “Whether this was an accident or not, see for yourself.” Emily was silent for a long time, but finally said, “Even if his emotions spiraled, it’s related to your rejection these past few days. He’s already been pushed to the point where he can only prove his pain this way. Are you really going to keep provoking him?” I suddenly understood. Evidence was useless now. Emily could see it. She just wanted to blame every one of Tristan’s breakdowns on me. Emily softened her voice. “I’ll go with you tomorrow. The access doesn’t have to be restored yet, but at least give him an explanation.” I looked at her for a long time. Finally, I said, “Fine. I’ll go tomorrow.” Emily thought I had finally relented. I went upstairs to the study and sent a message to my lawyer. Move up the departure arrangements by one day.

Ethan’s POV The next day, I went to the hospital. Emily was already in the room. Tristan was leaning against the headboard, his right hand immobilized. Seeing me, he spoke first. “Ethan, I’m sorry. Whether it’s the access or the trust, I’ve made things difficult for Emily.” I didn’t respond. Emily looked at me, waiting for the apology I’d agreed to last night. Seeing my silence, Tristan said quietly, “I won’t enter the house anymore, and I won’t get involved with the child. After the baby is born, I’ll just look from a distance.” When he mentioned the child, his gaze fell on Emily’s belly. That look was too familiar. Like he was looking at something already his. Emily saw it but didn’t stop him. I asked, “Whose child are you really looking at?” The room went silent instantly. Tristan lowered his head. “I know I’m not qualified to mention the child. It’s only natural for Ethan to mind.” Emily immediately frowned. “Ethan Hayes, this is a hospital. Tristan just had an accident. Don’t provoke him again.” I looked at her. “Asking whose child it is counts as provoking him?” Emily’s face went white. “Don’t say things like that here. Family and doctors are outside. If someone overhears, it’s bad for the child.” What she protected first was still appearances. Tristan spoke at the right moment. “Emily, maybe I should leave. I’ll leave San Diego. After the child is born, I won’t disturb you anymore.” Emily immediately turned to him. “Don’t say that again.” I stood where I was, watching her rush to keep Tristan. That apology no longer needed to be said. Soon, the Hayes family entered the room. Hearing that Tristan wanted to leave, Linda was the first to object. “Your right hand is like this, and you still want to live alone somewhere?” Another person pushed the conversation straight to Emily. “Doesn’t the house have a guest room? Let Tristan stay for a few days. Once his injury stabilizes, we’ll talk.” I looked at Emily. Emily didn’t immediately refuse. She only said, “Ethan hasn’t been in a good mood lately. If Tristan moves in, there might be conflict.” Linda sneered. “As long as he doesn’t make a fuss, what conflict could there be?” Tristan shook his head. “Stop it. I don’t want to disturb Emily anymore.” But the more he said he didn’t want to, the more others wanted it for him. Emily finally looked at me. “It’s just the guest room. Tristan can stay a few days while he recovers, and I can make sure his hand is okay.” Just the guest room. Those words were like old nails being driven into my heart again. I remembered when I was young, every time relatives came to stay, my parents said the same thing. Just let them have one room. Just a few days. Just be understanding. I asked Emily, “Do you still remember why we originally didn’t let anyone stay at our house?” Emily froze. Back then, when someone from the Hayes family wanted to stay over, she had personally stopped it. She said our house wasn’t a place for people to crash temporarily. Now, she had trampled those words herself. Emily was silent for a long time, then her voice lowered. “The situation is different. Tristan isn’t like other people. He’s suffered because of me.” I asked, “So?””A guest room, an access card, a spot on the child’s trust. After this, will there be even more ‘just this’?” Emily’s eyes reddened. “Why do you insist on seeing everything as someone taking from you? I’m pregnant, I have to deal with Tristan’s old injury, I’m already exhausted. Can’t you just trust me once?” I didn’t look at Tristan anymore. I only looked at Emily. “Do you really want me to give in?” Emily avoided my gaze. “Consider it me begging you.” The hospital room went quiet. I looked down at her belly, then at Tristan’s immobilized right hand. Finally, I said, “I understand.” After leaving the hospital, I went straight back to the house. I didn’t enter the master bedroom. I went to the study. The lawyer sent a confirmation message. The house disposal had begun, and the withdrawal from the child’s trust signature was also in process. I placed the anniversary ring on top of the divorce papers. Next to them was the access permission cancellation confirmation. Emily’s and Tristan’s permissions would both be deactivated tonight. I organized all the evidence and sent it to the lawyer for safekeeping. That evening, Emily sent me a message. “Tristan is coming back to stay in the guest room tonight. Try not to be cold to him.” I didn’t reply. I dragged my suitcase out of the house. The housekeeper came after me. “Mr. Hayes, do you need a car prepared?” I only said, “Don’t touch anything in the study. When Emily returns, let her see for herself.” A few hours later, I sat in the law office. The lawyer placed the materials in front of me. “The surveillance footage, access logs, videos before and after Tristan’s fall, recordings of the family pressuring you, and the unilateral commitment Miss Hayes just signed. Everything’s here.” I paused briefly when I heard “unilateral commitment.” The lawyer said, “Once this document takes effect, the child’s trust and everything involving Tristan will be separated from your name.” I nodded. “Keep going.” The lawyer asked, “Do you still want to leave any instructions here in the old city?” I turned off my phone, stood up, and walked out. “Everything worth seeing is in the study. There’s nothing to explain.”

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Eight months pregnant, I accidentally discovered my Alpha husband Coran was cheating on me with my sister Mira, who had come to take care of me. When I caught them, his tone was flat: “You found out? Actually, I’ve been sleeping with her since your third month of pregnancy. These past few months, I’ve been taking her to hotels every night… Who told you to never let me touch you during your pregnancy?” I couldn’t help but raise my hand and slap him across the face. “You bastard! She’s my sister!” Mira dropped to her knees in front of me, tears streaming down her face. “Rowenna, don’t blame Coran. I was the one who started it…” My brain buzzed, and my body swayed. Coran caught me in his arms. I dodged his hands. “Why?” Mira bit her lip, struggling to speak. “I’ve always had feelings for him…” I slapped her across the face. Coran shielded her behind him, his eyes cold as ice: “I’m a man, and I have needs. Isn’t this arrangement better? She’s your sister—we’re all family. Would you rather I cheated with some stranger?”

I stood frozen in place, my throat feeling like it was stuffed with cotton. Coran sighed helplessly and gently wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes. “Rowenna, it’s just your pregnancy hormones making you overthink everything. Don’t get so upset—it’s bad for the baby.” The familiar features before me suddenly seemed like a stranger’s. So he did remember I was still pregnant. Mira scrambled up and headed to the kitchen, her legs still trembling as she walked. “Rowenna, what would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you…” Their concerned expressions made me feel like everything that just happened was a dream. “When did it start?” Coran frowned slightly. “January 25th. That day you went for your prenatal checkup and asked Mira to bring me some documents. I couldn’t control myself…” The bright red hickeys on his neck stung my eyes. The baby in my belly kicked me again. My back hurt so much I couldn’t straighten up, and tears fell in heavy drops onto the floor. So it was that day. I had taken a taxi to the hospital alone, waited in line, got my number, went through the checkup. I asked Coran if he could come with me, but he said he had work matters at the pack that needed his attention. I asked my sister if she could help me, but she said after delivering the documents, a friend needed her help. My legs were swollen during pregnancy, and someone bumped into me at the hospital. I almost had a miscarriage. The two people closest to me were locked in passion on his office desk. And I kept making excuses for him, thinking he was just too busy. I never imagined he was busy in my own sister’s bed. It turned out I was the only fool. Coran suddenly crouched down and rubbed my legs. “If you hadn’t found out, you wouldn’t be sad. Wouldn’t it be better to just keep playing dumb?” “Every time we had sex, we deliberately chose hotels far from home so the mate bond wouldn’t affect you and make you uncomfortable.” My stomach churned, and I kicked him hard in the chest. “Coran, you disgust me!” He took advantage of the momentum to help me onto the couch. “If this makes you feel better, you can kick me a few more times.” As I struggled, my hand touched something on the couch. I lifted it to see—a pair of torn stockings. The blood in my body seemed to turn ice cold. Coran looked like he wanted to say something but stopped. Mira walked out carrying soup, saw what was in my hand, and her face went white. She rushed forward to explain in a panic. “Rowenna, it’s not what you think…” Coran calmly took the stockings, his tone casual. “No need to make such a fuss. Yesterday you said you were going back to your mother’s house and wouldn’t be home that night. That evening I tried something new with your sister on the couch. Not only that, we also went to the bedroom and had sex on your marriage bed. I have to say, it was pretty thrilling.” Tears blurred my vision. I suddenly stood up and rushed into the bathroom, vomiting violently. Outside the door came Mira’s worried voice. “Rowenna, are you okay? Coran’s just talking nonsense. Don’t get upset. Your health is most important—you still have a baby inside you.” The nausea only deepened. I looked at my swollen belly in despair. Why did it have to be at eight months? Why did it have to be Mira? Since childhood, I’d given in to her in everything. When her fated mate died, I stayed by her side through the night, constantly comforting her. She said my house was closer to her university, so I let her move into the villa I shared with Coran. The jewelry and luxury goods on her body—I bought them all for her. I opened the door and stared at Mira. “Haven’t I been good enough to you?” Mira ingratiatingly handed me a bowl of soup, her tone cautious. “Rowenna, please eat something. After you eat, we can talk, okay?” I knocked the soup bowl from her hands. The scalding liquid splashed on the back of her hand, turning it bright red. “I don’t need your fake kindness!” Mira’s eyes instantly reddened. “Rowenna, how can you say that about me!” Coran’s face darkened, glaring at me with displeasure. “If you’re angry, take it out on me. Mira’s just concerned about you. Do you have to make such a big deal out of nothing?” He rubbed his temples while gently wiping Mira’s tears. “See? I told you we couldn’t let Rowenna find out. Your parents were right—Rowenna’s temper is just difficult. If she knows, this household will be turned upside down.” Mira looked at me with tears in the corners of her eyes, her face full of grievance. I felt like I was choking. Since childhood, she’d always been like this. “I’m taking Mira to the hospital. You stay home and reflect on yourself!” He slammed the door so hard it shook. I slumped powerlessly into a chair, but soon a strange smell came from the kitchen. They’d left in such a hurry they hadn’t even turned off the gas… I struggled to move my body to open the door, only to discover that Coran had broken the lock when he slammed it. I desperately called Coran. Call after call, all rejected. Until the last one—he answered, his voice impatient. “Can you stop being so paranoid? Because of you, Mira cried herself hoarse, keep asking if Rowenna really hates her. She really cares about you.” I dragged my heavy pregnant belly, my whole body weak and powerless. “Coran, I…” “I’m busy comforting Mira. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” The phone went dead with a beeping sound. The smell of gas had almost filled the entire house. I finally felt despair. Coran, I won’t love you anymore.

When I woke up, my mom was lying by my bedside. Overcome with grievance and fear, I instinctively hugged her, my voice choked. “Mom…” “Coran cheated on me.” My mom interrupted my tearful complaint. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. “It’s such a small thing. Do you really need to act like you want to die? What man doesn’t cheat?” I became emotional. “But the person he cheated with is…” Her tone was calm. “I know.” I looked up in disbelief at my mother’s murky eyes. No guilt whatsoever, only dissatisfaction with me. I grabbed my mother’s arm, my voice hoarse with emotion. “You know? You knew and you still…” “Your husband is an Alpha. His work is stressful and he needs an outlet. As his wife, you don’t understand him—fine.” “Outsiders cost money. Your sister is clean. Isn’t it good that she’s sharing the burden for you? What do you have to make a fuss about?” Her mouth opened and closed, every word scolding me for being unreasonable. My mind went blank. Even though I’d long known her favoritism had no bounds. Even though I’d long known Mira was the apple of her eye. I still couldn’t understand. I broke down, screaming and questioning her. I thought she could at least show some concern for me, but instead she said, “When I gave birth to you, my body was ruined because of you. You’ve been ungrateful since childhood, always fighting with Mira over things. Now you even want to fight with Mira over a man!” My fingernails almost drew blood. My father was the previous Beta of Bronzefang pack. He died when I was young in a Rogue attack. I was still immersed in the pain of losing my father when my mom came up and slapped me twice across the face, pointing at me and cursing: “I knew it—you’re nothing but bad luck! It wasn’t enough that you ruined my body when you were born. Now you’ve brought your curse to your father, making him die so young!” Later, when I was eighteen, I became the fated mate of Coran, an Alpha. After we married, I became the pack’s Luna. I thought my mom would stop calling me bad luck. I thought my mom would finally like me. But it turned out she’d always hoped it would be Mira who married Coran and became Luna. My phone buzzed with a notification—one of my special alerts. Mira had updated her social media: “Feeling down. Coran rented out the entire Ferris wheel just for me.” I was lying in the hospital from gas poisoning. My husband was accompanying my sister to the newest Western restaurant, taking her to the amusement park, riding the Ferris wheel with her. “If you can’t keep your Alpha’s heart, who can you blame?” My mother’s flippant mockery made my red, swollen eyes look especially ridiculous. When Coran and Mira came back, I was still in the hospital waiting to give birth. “Rowenna, I’m so sorry. I forgot to turn off the gas when I was cooking. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have…” Mira cried pitifully, but I didn’t even bother to look at her. She cried harder. “Coran, is Rowenna mad at me? I’m so stupid—I can’t even handle such a small thing.” Coran comforted her gently. “It’s not your fault.” He looked at me, seemingly displeased with my attitude. “Rowenna, Mira is apologizing to you. Are you deaf?” I suddenly felt like laughing, but tears fell against my will. Coran realized his tone was too harsh and softened it. He pulled out two stuffed animals. “I know this scared you. I asked the doctor—you and the baby are fine. Mira is still young. She even brought you the stuffed animals you like.” The gemstone necklace on Mira’s neck was blindingly conspicuous. It was the wedding gift I’d asked Coran for over a year. To this day, my neck remained empty. Did I only deserve these cheap dolls? I bit my lip almost hard enough to draw blood. “In what capacity are you speaking for Mira? Brother-in-law? Lover?” Coran’s expression gradually darkened. He let out a cold laugh. “No wonder your mom doesn’t like you.” “Mira is sunny and cheerful, unlike you—petty, narrow-minded. If I were your mom, I would also…” I looked up in disbelief. Coran’s eyes showed panic. “That’s not what I meant…” For as long as I could remember, my mom hadn’t liked me. Even when there were two chicken drumsticks, she’d give both to Mira. When I was little, every friend I made would be drawn to Mira and become her friend instead. Every night in the quiet darkness, I hated myself for not being as likable as Mira. It was Coran’s appearance that told me even if I wasn’t perfect, he would always stand by my side. But now, even he was standing on Mira’s side. My tears flowed like an opened faucet, uncontrollable. I broke down, grabbing things and throwing them at him. “Get out! Just get out!” Over the next few days, probably out of guilt, Coran and Mira came to the hospital to see me every other day. Baby diapers and wipes, all kinds of pregnancy nutrition meals—an endless stream. “Rowenna, didn’t you say before that you really liked this necklace? I bought it specially for you.” The necklace I’d wanted for so long was placed in my palm by Coran, but it felt cold all the way to my heart. One year and three months. He knew I liked it, but never thought to buy it for me. I lifted my head and finally said the words I’d been holding in my heart.

“Let’s get divorced.” We spoke at the same time. I looked up in shock, only to see Coran’s face light up with joy. “That’s great! Rowenna, you know?” Confusion flashed across my face. Coran had already pulled out divorce papers. “This is the divorce agreement. If everything looks good, just sign it.” “After all, we as a married couple owe Mira. I’ll marry her, and you’ll give up your Luna position to her so she can participate in pack affairs as Luna. Consider it compensation.” “Don’t worry, we won’t break the mate bond. You’ll still technically be my wife. I’ll take care of you anyway. Being a housewife from now on isn’t bad.” By the time I finished signing, I finally processed what Coran had said. “Coran, do you remember what you promised me?” Coran paused, seemingly trying to recall. Clearly, he’d forgotten. When I spent two years trying to conceive, drinking countless potions from witches and taking countless fertility shots before finally having this child, he’d promised me, “You’ve sacrificed so much for me. I’ll make sure you become the most respected and happiest Luna among all the packs.” Now he wanted a divorce and to make Mira the new Luna. The door opened and Mira walked in. “Rowenna, are you feeling better?” Coran warned me with his eyes not to say anything. I smiled with tears in my eyes. “How can I be better with a bitch like you around? Seducing my husband wasn’t enough—now you want to steal my Luna position. Mira, you’re shameless beyond belief.” Her face went white as a sheet. Tears fell like broken pearls. Coran’s face darkened. “Rowenna!” “Am I wrong? She’s barely in her twenties and already knows how to climb into her own brother-in-law’s bed! Isn’t that slutty?” I raised my voice. People around us looked at her with mockery. Coran pulled her into his arms and sneered at me. “Who’s more slutty than you? At eighteen, you went to a bar and someone drugged you with an aphrodisiac. I took you to the hospital, but you refused treatment and insisted on having sex with me in the woods…” Contemptuous ridicule echoed around us. My face went from pale to red. I lunged at him in fury. Mira suddenly blocked his path and took the slap. “Rowenna, if you’re going to blame someone, blame me. Everything is my fault. Coran already works so hard.” “Rowenna, what’s wrong with you!” Pain flashed in Coran’s eyes as he pushed me away roughly. My belly hit the corner of the table hard. Blood spread beneath me. Coran shouted for a doctor in shock. Mira cried and hit Coran. “Rowenna, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t let anything happen to you…” Coran watched with tears as I was wheeled into the operating room. In the darkness, surgical clamps spread me open—a tearing pain. I cried my heart out. My life flashed before my eyes like a panorama. It was eighteen-year-old Coran on the grass, fingers intertwined with mine. “Rowenna, I’ll treat you well for a lifetime.” A lifetime—it turned out to only be seven years…

The baby was born premature and went into an incubator. Coran gripped my hand guiltily, his eyes red. “Rowenna, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. When this summer ends, I’ll make Mira leave our house.” I turned to the side, tears flowing silently. After being discharged, Coran locked me in the house. He even hid my phone. The first day, they only brought three meals. I held my newborn baby and cried inconsolably. The second day, I smashed everything in the room and cut my hand. The third day, Coran finally came to see me. I broke down and demanded to know why he wouldn’t even give me the right to move freely. He frowned as he bandaged my hand, his expression helpless. “You’re too emotional right now. I’m afraid you’ll go out and ruin Mira’s reputation. She’s still a young woman. We can’t let your temper destroy her life, can we?” Mira beside him gave me a sympathetic look. “Rowenna, don’t worry. I’ll definitely be a good Luna for Bronzefang pack. I’ll help maintain your friendships too.” My heart felt like a piece of flesh had been carved out. I looked disheveled, my face bloodless. “Coran, what gives you the right to let someone else replace my life! Is this what you call love?” Coran froze for a moment, his patience exhausted. “When you learn how to be a gracious mother, I’ll naturally let you out.” He wanted me to learn to be a gracious mother while stripping away my marriage, my work, my freedom. Meanwhile, Mira enjoyed everything that should have been mine under his protection. I covered my face, laughing until tears streamed down. The baby beside me suddenly began wailing. I touched the child’s burning forehead, my heart twisting with pain. “Coran, let me out! Jack has a fever!” I pounded on the door hysterically, my nails leaving bloody scratches. The crying finally brought Coran. He frowned. “What are you making a fuss about now?” I begged without dignity. “Coran, please look at Jack. He’s your son! He could really die!” Hesitation and conflict flashed in his eyes. “But…” My mother suddenly entered. She glanced once and said flatly, “Making a big deal out of nothing. You had fevers when you were little too. Some fever medicine will be fine. You’re making such a scene—could it be because… today Mira is giving her speech as the new Luna? You wouldn’t be trying to sabotage her work, would you?” Coran’s expression instantly darkened. “Rowenna, enough is enough. When did you become so unreasonable? Using even your son as an excuse.” I laughed until my whole body shook. “I’m unreasonable?” He looked puzzled. “Mira is your sister. Why can she accept all this, but you can’t?” It was as if my breakdown and helplessness were trivial in Coran’s eyes. He took a phone call, a smile spreading across his face as he strode away. “Mom, Mira’s speech is about to start. Let’s go.” I looked at the child in my arms, his face flushed red. As if I couldn’t feel pain, I desperately kicked down the door. But I was covered in blood. Drivers who passed by didn’t dare let me in their cars. When I finally got a ride, I realized Coran had confiscated my phone, and I had no bank cards or cash—no way to pay. The driver kicked me out. By the time a kind person took me to the hospital, the doctor shook his head helplessly. “Why didn’t you bring him sooner? The child was already premature. You’re too careless as a mother.” Holding my child’s cold body as I returned home, my heart dead as ashes, I lit a fire. In the flames, the roar of a helicopter was particularly harsh. A figure slowly walked toward me… “I’m sorry. I came too late.”

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To save my fiancée Angela from a raging fire, seventy percent of my skin was burned. Angela spared no expense, hiring Europe’s top plastic surgery specialists to treat me. She flew to Europe countless times each month to stay with me. Until I recovered and returned to America, wanting to surprise her, I overheard a man outside her office saying: “You’ve done more than enough. You don’t owe him anything anymore.” Angela said nothing. The next moment, a little girl pushed past me and rushed into the office: “Mom, are you going to leave me and Dad? Who is this homewrecker trying to steal you away?” My heart jolted. When did Angela have a child? That brief moment felt like an entire century. Just then, someone came to report to Angela. They gave me a strange look before pushing open the office door. The instant our eyes met, I caught a flash of panic in Angela’s gaze. “Fernandez, you’re back.” Angela quickly composed herself and came forward to take my hand. She gripped too hard. A burning pain shot through the back of my hand, and bright red blood stained her pale fingers. Before I could react, something struck my shin. Then came a tearing pain. “You bad person, stay away from my mom!” The little girl’s shrill voice rang in my ears. Before she finished speaking, the man beside her immediately scooped her up. The girl’s features looked remarkably like Angela’s. When I looked at the man’s face, I froze. He looked seventy to eighty percent similar to me. The excruciating pain in my body made it impossible to think. I could only stare dumbly at everything before me. Who were these two people? A massive unease engulfed me. I slowly withdrew my hand from Angela’s grip and looked at her helplessly, hoping she would explain. But she had no time for me. Her brow furrowed tightly, her voice tinged with anger: “Bridges George, take Ellis away.” What a coincidence—he shared my surname too? Bridges looked aggrieved. The little girl called Ellis was startled into silence, looking completely dazed. But I knew very clearly that Angela felt guilty. The fiercer her words, the more panicked her heart. Bridges pressed his lips together, his eyes full of stubbornness. He held out for a while before finally carrying Ellis away. But he wasn’t watching where he was going, and the father and daughter crashed hard into the wall. The pain from her forehead made Ellis burst into tears, releasing all her pent-up grievances. Angela hesitated at first, but when she saw Bridges’s reddened forehead, she immediately stepped past me. She tenderly rubbed Bridges’s forehead, no longer sparing even half a thought for me. I stood there stupidly. When I looked up, I saw Bridges watching me with mockery. The corner of his mouth curved slightly in a provocative and contemptuous smile. Looking at that face so similar to mine, my heart felt heavy, as if something inside had died completely. I left the office in a daze and returned home alone, only to be locked out. Hearing the “incorrect password” message, my heart felt sour and swollen, an indescribable feeling. With a click, my father opened the door from inside. A flash of panic and guilt crossed his eyes, as if I’d come at the wrong time. The house was brightly lit. The table was laden with sumptuous dishes. Six chairs were arranged around the dining table, with a baby high chair placed beside one of them. Three elderly people were chatting and laughing, bustling about inside. They were my mother and Angela’s parents. When they saw me with my suitcase, the smiles on their faces instantly froze. After an awkward silence, my mother was the first to speak: “Fernandez is back? You should have told us you were coming.” Her voice carried both complaint and reproach, but no warmth. Looking at her, I suddenly remembered these past five years, enduring pain alone in a European hospital. And my parents seemed to have rarely cared about me. So much so that they hadn’t even noticed the doctor had already informed them of my discharge. I stared hard at the six chairs around the dining table, my heart dark and confused. “Fernandez?” Angela’s voice came from behind me. I turned to see the intimate figures of their family of three. Bridges held Ellis with one hand while his other arm wrapped intimately around Angela’s waist. The instant I turned around, Angela hastily broke free from Bridges’s embrace.

My parents shot me a reproachful look the moment they saw them. Then their eyes filled with immense joy and affection. “You’re back.” My father stepped forward and familiarly took the child from Bridges’s arms. At that moment, I had to admit it. After five years away, my place had been completely taken by Bridges. Only after everyone had entered the house did Angela realize I was still standing outside. Looking somewhat embarrassed, she pulled me inside: “Wait a moment, I’ll get you a chair.” “Angela, I’ll do it.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Bridges stopped Angela’s movement. He shot me a triumphant look. I lowered my eyes. From the earlier pulling, my grotesque skin showed spots of blood. “Fernandez is back.” Only Angela’s father offered an awkward smile and small talk. I forced the corners of my mouth up with difficulty but said nothing. At that moment, Bridges came over with a stool. “Sorry, Fernandez, I really couldn’t find a chair. It’s all my fault. Why don’t you take my chair?” Though he said this, his eyes held no trace of apology. “Enough. He has hands and feet. You even brought him a stool—what face does he have to blame you?” My dad interrupted impatiently. I hadn’t said a word since entering, yet I seemed to have done everything wrong. “Let’s eat.” I sat awkwardly on that stool in the corner. Looking at the seafood feast on the table, I didn’t know what to eat. “Can you please eat properly? Who are you putting on that pitiful act for?” My dad sounded impatient. Angela cut a piece of fish for me: “Try this. The housekeeper’s cooking is excellent.” Looking at that bright, colorful piece of fish in my bowl, I only felt my mouth growing more bitter: “I’m allergic to seafood.” At the dining table, Angela’s face stiffened, her eyes filled with guilt and panic. Five years was simply too long. She had forgotten. “I’m full. I’m going to rest now.” In the end, I was the one who broke the oppressive silence. Only to discover that everyone looked even more embarrassed. “My room—is it gone too?” Angela was silent for a moment: “Your room has the best lighting. Bridges’s health isn’t good…” So he’d occupied my room. “And you came back too suddenly. We haven’t had time to clean the guest room. How about you stay in the living room tonight?” A massive dizziness swept through my mind. “So my room—you and he are living in it?” I suppressed the anger inside me and asked word by word. Angela froze. All these years, she’d told herself that Bridges was just a substitute, but she didn’t realize that everything she’d done for Bridges had broken her own principles. At this moment, faced with my questioning, she suddenly didn’t know how to defend herself. Angela’s silence dealt me a heavy blow. “Are you two married?” I asked an irrelevant question. Angela instinctively shook her head. I laughed bitterly. Not married, yet they could sleep together and even had a child. It turned out Angela’s conservatism was only directed at me. An inexplicable rage surged from my heart. The immense anger made me extraordinarily strong. I flipped the dining table with one motion: “Get out.”

Everyone was startled by my sudden fury, frozen in place. “Fernandez George!” My father roared. “You…” He was about to curse at me, but when he saw my bleeding arms, he swallowed all those harsh words. He looked at me with complex emotions and let out a long sigh. For a moment, in that huge house, only Ellis’s wailing could be heard. “Fernandez, I know you can’t stand me, but Angela just got pregnant. She can’t handle being frightened!” Bridges tenderly stroked Angela’s abdomen and shot me a provocative look before continuing: “And Ellis—she’s still so young. What if she gets traumatized?” “If you have any grievances, take them out on me!” My mother came forward, somewhat at a loss: “Fernandez, let me bandage you first. Tonight… just make do for now.” “Tomorrow I’ll prepare a welcome party for you. Everyone will be so happy to know you’re back.” After all that, in my own house, I was still the one who had to “make do.” At that moment, I suddenly felt tired. I sat back down on the sofa without another word. But Bridges still wouldn’t let me go. In the middle of the night, I sat blankly on the sofa when I suddenly heard a soft laugh. I looked up to see Bridges. He was holding a glass of hot water, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes full of mockery: “I hope Angela’s carrying a son. That way we’ll have both a son and a daughter.” Seeing my lack of reaction, Bridges intensified his efforts. “You don’t know this, do you? Angela and I got together while you were still unconscious.” “Oh, and this.” He displayed the watch on his wrist. My pupils contracted. My heart throbbed with pain. That was the heirloom my grandfather left me on his deathbed. Five years ago, to save Angela, the strap had broken. Seeing my reaction, the malice in Bridges’s eyes became even more obvious: “Fernandez George, do you know how disgusting you are right now?” “She said just looking at you once makes her lose her appetite for three days.” “You’re already like that—why can’t you be more self-aware and break off the engagement yourself?” He started rambling about his efforts over the years. He was my uncle’s son, but my uncle was incompetent. Though he was the eldest, he lost to my father. He squandered the family fortune, dying young and full of regrets. When he was young, what he heard most was his father cursing mine. He said it was lucky I got burned, giving him the chance to return to the George family. In the future, not just the George family, but even the Angela family would be his. “Then what are you so worried about?” I interrupted him. “Since the George family and Angela’s family no longer have a place for me, what are you so worried about?” Bridges’s triumphant expression froze. Then his gaze turned cold as he looked at me: “I’ll show you exactly what your position is in this family now.”

With that, he walked to my side, released his hand, and deliberately fell to the ground. “Crash!” Along with the sound of the glass hitting the floor, Bridges let out a scream. Soon, everyone came out. Seeing the blood from glass cuts on Bridges’s foot, everyone’s faces changed drastically. “To the hospital!” My father’s brow furrowed tightly, his eyes showing an urgency and ferocity I’d never seen before. “If you have grievances, take them out on me! Why do you have to turn this house into chaos?” My breathing caught. My heart was squeezed tight by an invisible hand. Grievance, pain, anger, despair. Angela slapped me across the face, then helped Bridges out the door. My mother kept pounding on my chest, completely oblivious that the spot she was hitting had already begun to seep with traces of blood. “Why didn’t you just die five years ago? Are you alive just to torture us?” “If you have grievances, take them out on me! Bridges is innocent!” I stood there numbly. The pain in my heart had long since overwhelmed my physical wounds. Where no one could see, Bridges flashed me a provocative smile. I felt cold all over. The huge house returned to silence. In this place where only I remained, I quietly took out my phone, which was still recording. The next day, my parents acted as if nothing had happened, discussing details of the welcome party with me. But my heart felt no ripples whatsoever. The party was held in the George family garden, where there was a large swimming pool. At the banquet, I watched Bridges skillfully conversing with friends I used to be close with. The whole event felt absurd and laughable. Now in everyone’s eyes, Bridges was the George family’s favored son, the company’s legitimate heir. My heart ached numbly, especially when my father publicly announced he would divide the company shares between Bridges and me. Me: 1%. Bridges: 10%. In that instant, I became the biggest joke. “How pathetic.” “A homeless dog.” “He’s a废person. What use are shares to him?” “If you ask me, he shouldn’t have saved Angela back then. Who knows how much the George family could have developed by now.” Mockery, schadenfreude, mixed with a few words of pity and regret. The next second, Bridges walked toward me with a wine glass, looking triumphant. Everyone around watched with anticipation for the show. “Fernandez, congratulations.” A mocking smile played on his lips. I pressed my lips together and said nothing. Bridges’s eyes flashed darkly. The next second, he slipped, and the wine in his hand spilled all over me without missing a drop. Even more onlookers photographed my disheveled state, pointing and commenting. Angela tried to come forward to help me out of the situation, but I pushed her away. She looked somewhat confused, standing in place. Seeing I wanted to leave, Bridges wasn’t willing to let me go so easily. He followed close behind me to the poolside. “Did you enjoy the welcome ceremony I prepared for you?” Then he revealed a malicious smile. “Guess who they’ll save?” With that, he pulled me into the pool with him. The water in the pool was so cold. The pungent smell of chlorine constantly irritated my nose and skin. The stiffness in my limbs made even struggling difficult. On the other side, Bridges pretended his foot had slipped, putting on an act of drowning. He kept struggling, kept shouting. My consciousness gradually blurred as I slowly sank to the bottom. Meanwhile, Bridges continued struggling with all his might. Everyone rushed over. Angela jumped into the water without hesitation and swam straight to Bridges, rescuing him. My parents only gathered around Bridges, concerned about him. Completely forgetting that their own biological son was still in the water. Before I completely lost consciousness, I seemed to see a figure swimming toward me.

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Living alone, I kept feeling like there was a second person in my home. This morning, I’d just finished making breakfast. The moment I turned around, the fried egg was gone. Freshly washed clothes hung in the closet suddenly had stains on the collar. I turned the house upside down and installed security cameras, but found nothing. Just when I let my guard down, my boyfriend smiled and pulled me close— “You were so passionate last night. The moment I walked through your door, you threw yourself at me.” My blood ran cold. But last night, I wasn’t even home. My boyfriend McMenaman’s fingers were still brushing against my waist. Seeing my face turn ghost-white, he paused and leaned in to touch my face, his tone teasing: “What’s wrong, babe? Embarrassed? You sure didn’t act like this when you were holding onto my neck last night, refusing to let go.” Every muscle in my body tensed. The pain of my nails digging into my palms barely brought me back to my senses. I stared into his eyes, my voice shaking: “You’re saying… you saw me in my room last night?” McMenaman nodded, the smile still on his face. He reached out to put his arm around my waist, but I instinctively dodged. He froze, confused: “Yeah, wasn’t there a power outage? I was worried you’d be scared, so I came over to keep you company.” “When I came in, before I could even turn on the lights, you threw yourself at me. Your hair was in those new big waves you got permed. I’d recognize those curls anywhere.” Every word he spoke was like an ice pick stabbing into my bones. I grabbed his arm hard enough to make him wince: “I’m not joking, McMenaman. I really wasn’t home last night.” “I told you last week—Dottie just went through a breakup. I stayed with her for a couple days. Last night I slept at her place the whole time. I never came back.” The smile slowly froze on McMenaman’s face. He reached out to feel my forehead, panic creeping into his voice: “Stop messing around. This isn’t funny.” “Only you and I have keys to your place. We just changed to that high-security lock last month. Who else could it be but you?” “Besides, we’ve been together three years. You think I’d mistake your body, your voice?” “Last night you sounded exactly like you always do. Even the perfume was the same!” I didn’t argue with him. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and called Dottie on speaker. The phone rang twice before she picked up, her voice hoarse from just waking up: “What’s up, honey? You left your cartoon bathrobe here when you left this morning. When are you coming to get it?” I took a deep breath: “Dottie, tell me the truth. Did I sleep at your place last night?” “Duh, where else would you be?” Dottie yawned, her tone teasing. “We stayed up until three watching horror movies. You were so scared you cried while hugging my arm, and you made me get you an ice-cold Coke. Don’t tell me you forgot already?” “Or is McMenaman checking up on you? Want me to vouch for you?” “No need, thanks Dottie.” I hung up and looked up to see McMenaman’s face white as paper, sweat beading on his forehead. He staggered back a step and bumped into the dining table behind him. The glass I’d just set there wobbled and crashed to the floor, shattering. “That’s impossible… how can this be?” He muttered to himself for a moment, then suddenly rushed toward the bedroom like a madman. I heard the loud bang of the closet doors being flung open, clothes being torn down in heaps. Then the sound of him crouching down to search under the bed, the storage boxes on the balcony being turned upside down. The whole place looked like it had been ransacked by thieves. Ten minutes later, he emerged covered in dust, shaking his head with vacant eyes: “Nothing… there’s nothing.” I leaned against the wall, my legs so weak I could barely stand, and finally fumbled for my phone with shaking hands to dial 911.

The police arrived quickly. Two uniformed officers followed the forensics team through my door while I was still trembling all over. I nearly dropped the glasses when I tried to hand them water. I told them everything from start to finish. From the mysteriously disappearing fried egg at breakfast months ago, to the lipstick stains that suddenly appeared on my freshly washed white shirt collar. Then to last night’s incident. Tears streamed down my face as I spoke. The forensics team, wearing white gloves, examined the entire place. The doors and windows were intact. The lock showed no signs of tampering. The security bars I’d installed last month were welded tight, without even a gap large enough for a hand to squeeze through. The forensics team swept the entire house with their equipment. No bugs, no hidden cameras. Not even a hidden compartment to hide someone. “We’ll go check the building’s surveillance footage.” One of the officers, named Brown, patted my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t panic just yet.” McMenaman and I followed them to the property management security room. With the police present, we fast-forwarded through all the surveillance footage from yesterday afternoon when I left to this morning when I returned. The footage clearly showed that at 5:20 yesterday afternoon, I walked out of the building entrance wearing a white T-shirt and jeans, carrying a canvas bag. I never returned after that. At 11:07 PM, McMenaman entered the building. He didn’t leave until 8:10 AM to buy breakfast. During that time, except for delivery people and food couriers stopping on the floor, no strangers had entered or exited my floor. McMenaman’s face lost all color. He gripped the edge of the security desk, his voice shaking: “That’s impossible… then who was with me last night?” “Her voice, her body—everything was exactly like Sean. I really didn’t mistake it. Sean, you…” “Is now really the time for this?” I cut him off, my nails digging into my palms until they bled, then turned to the officer. “Officer, I’ve suspected someone was in my home before.” “Actually, I’ve felt something was off for a while.” “Sometimes I’d pour water in the morning before leaving, and when I came home at night, the glass would be moved a few centimeters.” “A sandwich I made and left on the dining table—I’d turn around to get milk, and come back to find half of it missing.” “Clean white T-shirts I’d washed and hung in the closet would have yellow stains on the collar before I even wore them, like someone had worn them and gotten foundation on them.” “And last week, the keys I’d left on the shoe cabinet by the entrance—I clearly remembered putting them there, but when I got home from work, they were on the dining table. I thought I’d misremembered at the time, but now it’s obvious I didn’t.” After listening, Officer Brown brought the forensics team back to my place. They searched inside and out for over an hour, even removing some ceiling panels to check, tapping on the utility shaft walls. Still nothing. Finally, Officer Brown sighed and left me his contact information: “We’ll go back and review the past three months of surveillance footage. If you notice anything unusual, call me immediately.” “It’s also possible you’ve been under too much work stress lately and your memory is playing tricks on you. If you’re really worried, you might want to get checked out at a hospital. You should probably avoid staying here for now.” After the police left, only McMenaman and I remained in the house. The atmosphere was so oppressive I could barely breathe. We sat on the sofa. Neither of us spoke first. Only the sound of our heavy breathing. After a long while, I got up to pack my suitcase. McMenaman hesitated, then came over to help me pack: “You’re right, we can’t stay here. Let’s go to a hotel first.” At the hotel, after checking in, McMenaman immediately pulled out his phone to call a security camera company: “I need you to send someone over tomorrow morning to install cameras with storage cards in my home. Cover every blind spot. Money is no object!” After hanging up, he came over to hold me, his hands still shaking: “Don’t be scared. I refuse to believe we can’t catch whoever’s playing these tricks.” I leaned into him, but there was no warmth in my heart. I didn’t tell him that half a month ago, I’d secretly hidden a small camera in the air conditioning vent. It went dark the very next day. I thought it was a quality issue and changed it out three times. Each one mysteriously broke after a few days of use, never capturing anything. Would it be the same outcome this time?

Early the next morning, McMenaman brought me back home. We personally watched the workers install four high-definition cameras in every corner of the living room, bedroom, and balcony, covering every angle with no blind spots. After testing, the workers assured us that this model was waterproof, tamper-proof, with stable signal, and wouldn’t easily malfunction. After the workers left, we returned to the hotel and stared at the camera feeds on our phones. We watched for an entire day. The camera feeds remained quiet, not even a breeze stirring the curtains. I felt even more uneasy. In this anxious state, Officer Brown called in the evening. “Miss Sean, we reviewed three months of surveillance footage from your building complex today.” “Besides you and your boyfriend, only your friend Dottie visited once last month. No other outsiders have entered or exited.” “All the strangers in the hallway were delivery people or food couriers. We verified all their identities. No suspicious persons.” Finally, his tone took on a tactful persuasive quality: “Miss Sean, I suggest you go to the hospital for a checkup. Perhaps you’ve been under too much work stress lately and your memory is off. Don’t feel bad about it.” After hanging up, my heart sank even deeper. McMenaman listened to the call and ran his hands through his hair in frustration, then stood up and grabbed his pajamas, heading to the bathroom: “Babe, I’m going to take a shower. After that, let’s go out for some of that sushi you love. Let’s not think about this for now.” I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the traffic outside the window, my mind in chaos. Could it really be my mental state? But those mysteriously disappearing breakfasts, the stained clothes, the person impersonating me—it was all so real, not a hallucination at all. I sighed and looked back, instinctively glancing at my phone on the nightstand. The screen was displaying the live feed from home. But the next second, I froze completely. The surveillance feed that had been clear and normal just moments ago was now pitch black. A big X marked the signal bars, like a closed eye. My blood ran cold. I jumped up. The cameras were out again! Before, I could comfort myself that it was poor camera quality or the wifi cutting out. But today’s cameras were brand new, using independent data cards, with new storage cards too. Even if the network went down, they should still store footage locally. How could they go black without warning? If before I could fool myself about camera quality, after yesterday’s incident, I was one hundred percent certain—there was definitely someone in my house! I grabbed my bag and phone from the table. Without even putting on my jacket, I yanked open the hotel room door and rushed out. I ran to the hotel entrance and flagged down a taxi, my voice trembling as I gave my home address. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror but didn’t dare ask questions. He hit the gas and drove toward my apartment complex. On the way, McMenaman called. His voice was panicked, with the sound of running water in the background: “Babe, where did you go? I was halfway through my shower when I heard the door slam. Why didn’t you say anything before leaving?” “The cameras are all out!” I shouted, crying. “That person is in my house right now!” McMenaman shouted in panic: “Wait for me, I’m coming right now. Don’t do anything rash! Sean, just stay where you are and wait for me!” “I can’t wait!” I bit my teeth and hung up, then pulled up Officer Brown’s WhatsApp. My hands shook so much I had to retype several times: [Officer Brown, the new cameras in my home went dark. I suspect someone’s in my house. I’m heading there now. Please come quickly!] As soon as I sent the message, the taxi arrived at the complex entrance. I paid and rushed into the building. The elevator was occupied and stopped on a high floor. I bit my lip and turned into the stairwell, climbing toward the 12th floor. Halfway up, I kept feeling footsteps behind me. When I looked back, there was nothing—just the green exit sign glowing. I didn’t dare stop. I bit my teeth and kept climbing, my legs so weak I nearly collapsed on the stairs. I finally made it to the 12th floor, leaning against the wall and gasping for breath. When I pulled out my keys, the keychain fell to the ground with a loud clatter that echoed sharply in the quiet hallway. I picked it up with shaking hands and inserted the key into the lock. The moment I turned it, I smelled the citrus aromatherapy I usually used wafting from inside. I took a deep breath and shoved the door open hard. The living room light was on. Warm yellow light fell on the sofa, where a woman sat with her legs crossed. She wore one of those black sheet masks I regularly used. Her hair was styled in the same big waves as mine. She was scrolling through my iPad with her legs crossed. Hearing the door open, she slowly looked up and peeled the mask off her face. I froze in place. The face she revealed was exactly the same as mine!

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In my past life, the maid Linda secretly brought her entire family to live in the basement of my villa. Whenever night fell and everything was quiet, they would come out to roam around. Several times I noticed that the fully stocked refrigerator would be empty the next day. There were always potato chip crumbs on the sofa. I thought Linda was sneaking food, so I scolded her a few times but didn’t think much of it. Until I prepared to immigrate and sell the villa. The maid’s son snuck into my bed, strangled me to death, and threw me in the basement. The whole family even forged my suicide note and seized my villa. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn three days before I was strangled. The first thing I did was call the renovation company to seal the basement shut with cement. “Hello? Is this the renovation company? Tomorrow…” Before I could finish the sentence, I suddenly saw Linda standing in the doorway. I was so startled that my phone fell onto the blanket. Linda had half her face hidden in shadow, her lips curling into a kind smile. “Arwen, it’s so late. Who are you calling?” My heart immediately started racing wildly, and cold sweat broke out all over me. I forced myself to stay calm and picked up my phone. “The bathroom seems to be leaking a bit. I thought I’d contact a contractor in advance to come take a look tomorrow.” “Linda, it’s so late and you’re still not asleep. Is something wrong?” Linda sighed, her face full of concern. “I heard sounds from your room and thought you were having nightmares again, so I came to check on you.” “If you’re fine, then I’m relieved.” My hands clenched the blanket as I forced out a smile. “I’m fine. Go get some rest. I’ll call you if I need anything.” Watching Linda close the door behind her, I let out a long breath. With trembling hands, I unlocked the screen and was about to press “911” to call the police when the door was pushed open again. I quickly flipped my phone face-down on my leg, nearly scared out of my wits. Linda walked back in carrying a glass of milk, smiling warmly. “I heated up some milk for you. It’s good for sleep.” I quickly shoved my phone under the pillow and reached out to take the glass of milk. “Thank you, Linda. It’s too hot. I’ll let it cool down a bit before drinking it.” Linda didn’t leave immediately. She stood by the bed looking me up and down for a long while before finally giving me a reminder. “If it gets cold, it’ll upset your stomach. Arwen, don’t forget to drink it.” The door closed again. I stared at that glass of milk and suddenly abandoned the idea of calling the police. Just throwing them in jail for a few years would be too easy on these parasites. Since I’ve been given a second chance at life, I’m going to give them a taste of their own medicine. I picked up the glass of milk, walked into the master bathroom, and poured it all into the toilet bit by bit. Then I put the empty glass back on the nightstand, pulled the covers over me, and lay down pretending to sleep. About ten minutes later, Linda crept over to the nightstand. She picked up the empty glass, looked at it, and only then left satisfied, closing the door behind her.

After confirming she had completely let down her guard, I carefully lifted the covers and tiptoed out of the master bedroom. Like a gecko, I lay flat at the railing of the second-floor staircase, holding my breath as I looked down. I saw Linda walk skillfully to the first floor, pull out a key, and open the basement door. Immediately after, three men and two women crawled out from inside like rats. They were Linda’s husband, her brother, and Jason Lee — the one who strangled me in my past life. The other two women were her mother-in-law and her high school daughter. I covered my mouth, terrified of making even the slightest sound. In my past life, Linda had told me with tears running down her face that she had a whole family to support. I felt sorry for her and paid her double what other maids earned outside. At the time, she even brought her whole family, carrying a basket of eggs to my door to kneel and thank me. It turned out that “gratitude” meant scouting the place in advance so the whole family could take over my nest like cuckoo birds. Now, these parasites were sprawled comfortably on the sofa watching TV. Linda’s husband opened my double-door refrigerator and took out the lobster that had just been air-shipped yesterday, walking into the kitchen. Her mother-in-law skillfully swiped several bottles of wine worth tens of thousands of dollars from the wine cabinet. Linda’s brother Kyle shrank his neck, looking somewhat worried as he glanced at the second floor. “Keep it down, you guys. Don’t wake up that woman.” Linda gnawed on my imported apples while smugly waving her hand. “What are you afraid of? I put extra sleeping pills in her milk. Even thunder couldn’t wake her up right now.” I hid in the shadows, eyes wide, breaking out in a cold sweat. No wonder in my past life, until the day I died, I never heard any sounds from downstairs at night. Linda’s daughter Wendy asked while stuffing potato chips in her mouth: “We eat like this every day. When the refrigerator runs out, won’t she get suspicious?” Linda snorted, her tone full of contempt. “That woman is just stupid with too much money.” “Her parents divorced long ago and went abroad to live their own lives. No one cares whether she lives or dies.” “If she really asks, I’ll just insist I don’t know anything. What can she do to me?” Linda patted the leather sofa, laughing greedily. “Besides, this villa is in a remote location, a full two hours’ drive from downtown. The neighbors around here haven’t even moved in yet.” “This woman has mental problems and has to take medication. The villa has no surveillance cameras. She can’t find any evidence. What do we have to fear?” “At worst, I’ll just say she’s hallucinating from her medication.” Listening to them mock me so brazenly, I dug my fingers hard into the wooden railing. Thinking back to my past life, there were several times I noticed things seemed to be missing from the villa. But because of severe childhood trauma, I had a pathological aversion to being monitored, so I hadn’t installed surveillance cameras. Plus, what went missing was just food and drinks, nothing valuable, so I didn’t think much of it. More fatally, Linda knew I had trouble sleeping and was taking medication, so she would often fabricate fake timelines in front of me, making me think my memory was faulty.

When I looked up again, Jason and Wendy were walking toward the spiral staircase to the second floor. I tiptoed back into the master bedroom, slipped under the covers, and closed my eyes. As soon as I lay down, the door was pushed open. After some rustling sounds, Wendy’s exclamation came from the direction of the walk-in closet. “Jason, look at these dresses, these diamond necklaces. This woman is so lucky.” She put my clothes on herself while cursing viciously. Why does she get to be so rich, living in a big villa every day wearing designer brands? It should all be mine. Jason let out a sleazy, evil laugh. “Take whichever one you like. She has so many clothes and jewelry she can’t wear them all. She definitely won’t notice if a few go missing.” After saying this, Jason started impatiently urging Wendy to leave. Wendy walked to the door holding the clothes, but didn’t forget to turn back and warn him in a low voice. “Don’t go too far. Mom said this woman has never even been in a relationship. She’s a virgin.” “Don’t wake her up and ruin our whole family’s plan.” Jason let out a perfunctory snort. “I know. You’re so naggy.” The door closed softly, and my heart immediately sank. Then the mattress suddenly dipped down as Jason actually climbed onto my bed and pulled me into his arms under the covers. My stomach immediately churned, making me want to vomit. But I could only bite down hard on my tongue, using the pain to force myself not to tremble even the slightest bit. If he discovered I was awake, the tragedy of being strangled to death with a rope in my past life could very well repeat itself immediately. Jason buried his face in my neck, greedily taking a deep breath of my hair’s fragrance. His rough, greasy hand slowly slid down from my cheek. The sour stench of not bathing for years rushed straight to the top of my head. Just as his disgusting hand slid down my back and was about to reach around to the front — “Ring ring ring.” The alarm clock on the nightstand let out a piercing sound. Jason jumped up from the bed in fright. Linda immediately rushed in and skillfully turned off the alarm. She grabbed Jason by the ear, scolding in a low voice. “Bastard, are you trying to get our whole family killed?” “If you wake her up and she finds out, what are we going to eat and drink?” Jason rubbed his ear nonchalantly, his eyes showing the same viciousness as in my past life. “If she finds out, we’ll just kill her.” “Bury her in the basement, and all the money and things in this big villa will be ours.”

The air suddenly went quiet. Linda seemed to be seriously considering the feasibility of killing me. I was so scared that cold sweat poured from my palms. I held my breath tightly, my brain racing. If they made their move now, even if I had to jump from the second-floor balcony and break my leg, I had to take that chance. “No.” Linda suddenly scolded in a low voice, interrupting Jason’s murderous intent. “This damn girl said she’s having a renovation company come tomorrow to fix the leak.” “If we kill her now and someone comes tomorrow to find no one home and calls the police, we’ll all be exposed.” She paused, her tone revealing cunning malice. “After tomorrow, once we’ve dealt with the renovation people, it won’t be too late to kill her slowly.” Linda stared hard at Jason, warning him sternly again. “When the renovation company comes tomorrow, you all stay in the basement. Don’t even fart.” “I’ll lock the basement security door from the outside beforehand and take the key with me.” “It’s a security door. No one can open it without the key.” “She never goes to the basement anyway. As long as I’m not home, there’s no way she can discover you.” Jason nodded repeatedly in agreement. “Okay, okay, whatever you say. Let’s go.” Hearing the door close, I kept my eyes tightly shut, not daring to even flutter my eyelashes, continuing to pretend to sleep. A full half hour passed. Just when I was about to open my eyes — A breath suddenly came close, bringing bad breath with it. “Looks like she really didn’t wake up.” Jason’s voice was right next to me. I pinched my thigh to force myself to stay calm. Linda breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright, let’s go. That lobster is almost done.” The door closed again. To be safe, I endured another half hour in the darkness, making sure no one was speaking anymore before I finally dared to slowly open my eyes. I grabbed my phone. The blinding bright screen showed: 4:30 AM. I wiped the drool from my nose, hatred surging like lava in my heart. Fine. Since you parasites want to kill me, don’t blame me for being ruthless. I sent a message to the renovation team leader. “Zack, bring plenty of cement and sand tomorrow morning. I want to completely seal up that abandoned basement in my house.”

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As the only female doctor in the urology department, my surgical skills were so exceptional that every time appointment slots opened up, they’d be snatched clean by patients in seconds. But today, I’d been sitting in my office for a full hour without a single patient showing up. When I asked the young nurse what was going on, she looked me up and down with a scornful expression: “A woman deliberately staying in the men’s clinic—do you think I don’t know what you’re really up to?” The appointment system opened right on time. Three seconds later, all slots showed “Fully Booked.” This was my normal. As the only female doctor in the urology department, not only was my scalpel steady, but my precision reached millimeter-level accuracy. Patients seeking my care had to fight to snag appointment slots down to the very second. Yet today, I’d been sitting in my examination room for a full hour without anyone showing up. The wall clock ticked away steadily. I glanced at my computer screen—the queue list was completely empty. Maintaining my composure, I stood up to pour myself some tea. Just as I took a sip, someone knocked on the examination room door. John, a familiar patient, poked his head in, his face full of confusion. “Dr. Christie, aren’t you off work today?” I looked up at him. “What makes you say that?” “I camped out on the app last night to book an appointment, but the system didn’t even show your name. I thought you’d gone on vacation or something.” John waved his phone at me. Sure enough, the screen showed my name grayed out, unavailable for booking. I set down my teacup, already understanding what had happened. The hospital’s appointment system was managed entirely by the nursing station. Doctors only had scheduling privileges—we had no authority to change appointment availability status. I walked out of the examination room and headed straight to the nursing station. The new intern nurse, Fiona, was sitting with her legs crossed, scrolling through videos on her phone. When she saw me approach, she didn’t even bother to look up. “Nurse Fiona, why were all of today’s appointment slots closed?” I got straight to the point. Hearing my voice, Fiona tossed her phone onto the desk with a cold laugh. “They’re closed because they’re closed. If no one books, the system automatically shows it as closed.” “What, is Dr. Christie here to inspect my work?” “The system doesn’t automatically close slots that are fully booked,” I said calmly. “You’re new, so if you’re unfamiliar with the procedures, I can teach you. But the appointment slots need to be restored immediately.” Fiona acted as if she’d heard the world’s funniest joke. She suddenly stood up, leaning forward, her knuckles rapping against the desk one tap at a time. “Christie, who are you trying to fool?” “This is the urology department—a men’s clinic. Any man would blush just hearing about this place.” “And you, a woman, you force your way in here, dealing with all that disgusting stuff every day—aren’t you ashamed?” “I don’t think you’re here to treat patients at all!” “As a fellow woman, I can see right through what you’re really thinking.” I understood completely. This kind of malice born from gender discrimination— I’d seen it too many times. Arguing would only waste time. I pulled out my phone and, right in front of her, dialed the director’s internal line. “Dr. Christie?” “What can I do for you?” “Director, the urology nurse Fiona has closed all of my appointment slots today without authorization, and her attitude has been extremely poor.” The line went silent for half a second, then came the sharp sound of a chair scraping back. “What? Dr. Christie, don’t worry, I’m coming right over!” Fiona rolled her eyes and sneered. “What, calling for backup? Are you three years old?” I ignored her, hung up, and stood quietly against the wall. Less than five minutes later, urgent footsteps echoed through the hallway. The director arrived with beads of sweat on his forehead, practically running. When he saw me, he didn’t even pause to catch his breath. He rushed straight to the nursing station and bellowed: “Fiona! Who gave you the authority to touch Dr. Christie’s appointment slots!” Fiona hadn’t expected the director to actually come in person. Her face instantly went pale, but she still stubbornly held her ground. “Director, a woman bossing everyone around in the men’s clinic goes against protocol. I was just protecting the hospital’s reputation…” “Shut up!” The director was furious, pointing right at her nose. “Do you have any idea how much medical revenue Dr. Christie brings to this hospital with a single surgery?” “You’re here pushing gender discrimination? Are you here to work or to play boss!” Then he turned to the head nurse standing nearby and roared, “Right now! Immediately!” “Restore all of Dr. Christie’s appointment slots. If there’s still a system malfunction within ten minutes, you’re all fired!” Fiona was completely stunned by this display. She clutched the folder in her hands so tightly that her knuckles turned white from the pressure.

The next day, the examination room was as crowded as usual. I kept my head down, writing up medical records. Sitting across from me was a young man looking thoroughly embarrassed. He was a programmer who, due to prolonged sitting and irregular sleep schedules, had developed some unspeakable problems. “Dr. Christie, this condition… it can really be cured, right?” His voice was extremely low, as if afraid someone outside the door might hear. I didn’t look up, typing several lines of medical orders into the computer, my tone calm: “As long as you follow my treatment plan, all your indicators will return to normal within a month.” “Don’t worry. This is very common in clinical practice.” Just then, the examination room door was violently shoved open. Bang! Fiona strode in. “Door shut so tight—what kind of shady business are you doing in here?” She looked at the man sitting across from me and said sarcastically: “Dr. Christie, already scouting for targets?” “I think you’ve been working in urology so long you’ve developed some weird fantasies about yourself, haven’t you?” The programmer was so startled his face went pale. He nearly jumped out of his chair. I set down my pen and stared coldly at Fiona. “Get out. I’m seeing a patient. Don’t interfere.” But Fiona not only didn’t leave—she doubled down, walking right up to the desk and pointing at the patient’s nose. “Don’t let her fool you! Women like her specifically target young, good-looking guys like you.” “She pretends to treat patients, but we all know what she’s really after!” The programmer’s face turned bright red. He grabbed his medical records and tried to bolt. I reached out and pressed my hand against the edge of the desk, signaling him not to panic, then turned to Fiona. “Are you here to cause trouble or to work?” “Cause trouble? I’m exposing your true colors!” She sneered. “Everyone, come take a look at our so-called urology expert.” “Doors closed in the examination room—who knows what kind of inappropriate dealings are going on in here!” Her voice was extremely loud, drawing more and more curious onlookers from the hallway. Just then, my phone lit up on the desk with a crisp series of notification sounds. The messages were from a pinned group chat. “Dr. Christie, the prescription you gave me last time worked wonders. When are you free? I’ve prepared a gift for you.” “Dr. Christie, can you squeeze me in for an appointment? I’ll pay whatever you ask.” “Are you busy? When can you come over to the house? Mr. John’s chronic condition was cured thanks to you.” Fiona had sharp eyes. Before I could even grab my phone, she lunged forward and snatched it away. “Let me see exactly which men you’ve been fooling around with behind the scenes!” She shouted while eagerly unlocking the screen. The moment she looked, the light in her eyes changed completely. Because aside from me, everyone in the group chat was a top-tier figure from various industries. Not only did they praise my miraculous medical skills in the group every day, but they also frequently sent me private requests and invitations. Fiona held the phone high, showing the screen to the crowd gathered at the examination room door, her voice trembling with excitement: “Everyone, look clearly! This is her true face!” “What expert, what medical skills—it’s all gained by seducing men!” “Look, all these men are lining up waiting to date her. This is solid evidence!”

Instantly, the crowd erupted in discussion. I could feel various gazes sweeping over me—curious, contemptuous, eager to watch the drama unfold. But I simply stood there, watching Fiona coldly, watching her perform with such effort. Just then, a series of urgent footsteps approached. “What’s going on here? Making such a racket first thing in the morning—what kind of behavior is this!” The department head had arrived. He’d been passing by when he heard the commotion and came over with a furrowed brow. Fiona acted as if she’d found her savior. She immediately dropped her aggressive posture and rushed to the department head, her eyes brimming with tears as she pointed at me. “Chief! Your timing couldn’t be better! You must seek justice for the hospital, for us honest, hardworking nurses!” Fiona choked up as she handed the phone to the department head. “Look at this! Christie… she’s just too much!” “As a doctor, she’s carrying on with these shameful activities in the examination room, having inappropriate relationships with so many patients’ families!” The department head took the phone and glanced at the group chat messages on the screen. When he looked at me again, his eyes clearly showed disgust. “Christie! This is absolutely outrageous! As a doctor, where is your medical ethics?” “Where is your professional integrity? What is all this? You’ve completely disgraced the hospital!” I didn’t defend myself. I didn’t even blink. Seeing my attitude, Fiona became even more emboldened. “Chief, she was also reported by patients before, which is why I closed her appointment slots.” “Now she’s gotten even worse, acting like she’s so capable!” She embellished the story, bringing up the incident when I’d contacted the director, conveniently leaving out that she’d been the one who tampered with the system first. “People like this should be fired immediately, or else our hospital’s reputation will be ruined by her!” The department head’s face turned iron-gray. He glanced at the crowd of onlookers, then at my expressionless face, and finally slammed his hand on the desk. “Suspension! Christie, you’re suspended for one week effective immediately. Go home and write a thorough self-criticism and reflect deeply!” “After one week, we’ll hold a hospital meeting to discuss this further and make a final decision!” “Until then, you are not to set foot in the examination room!” The declaration caused an uproar. Everyone expected me to resist fiercely, or at least defend myself. After all, while I didn’t talk much at the hospital normally, I was always decisive in my actions, and my skills were universally recognized as top-tier. This kind of punishment was undoubtedly a deep humiliation for me. However, I simply walked straight to the desk and picked up my phone. Then, in front of everyone, I pressed the option to “Dissolve Group Chat.” Finally, I said coldly: “I apologize.” Apologize? To whom? For what? I didn’t give anyone time to react. I simply dropped those words lightly and left the hospital.

A week passed quickly. I’d just stepped through the hospital entrance with my resignation letter when Fiona raised her voice: “Oh, Dr. Christie actually knows to come back?” “I thought you’d just packed up and run off! How about it—did you write your self-criticism with tears streaming down your face?” “Did you deeply reflect on all those shameful activities of yours?” As she spoke, she deliberately covered her mouth and made exaggerated expressions at several nearby nurses watching the drama. I acted as if I hadn’t heard anything and walked straight to Human Resources. When my colleague received my resignation letter, a flash of surprise crossed their eyes. But they didn’t say much, just silently began processing the paperwork. Fiona was clearly infuriated by my indifference. She followed behind me relentlessly, her mouth running nonstop: “Acting so high and mighty? You think resigning will clear your name?” “A shameless woman like you should have been kicked out long ago! Save our hospital’s reputation from being tainted!” I never gave her a single extra glance from start to finish. After submitting my resignation, I began packing my personal belongings—a thermos, a few professional books, and my well-worn stethoscope. There wasn’t much. I finished packing quickly. Picking up my bag, I turned and walked out of the examination room without looking back. Fiona continued her sarcastic taunts behind me. I paid no attention, walking all the way to the hospital entrance. The sunlight was just right, warmly falling on me as if washing away all the gloom. However, just as I was about to step through the gate, a piercing screech of brakes suddenly rang out. Followed by a second, a third… Within seconds, ten identical top-tier luxury cars pulled up in perfect formation right at the hospital entrance. The spectacle immediately stopped every passerby in their tracks. The car doors opened almost simultaneously. Ten pot-bellied executives in suits practically ran out of their vehicles. Their gazes cut straight through the crowd, locking onto me as I was about to leave. “Dr. Christie!” “Dr. Christie, you’re finally here!” “Dr. Christie, why did you dissolve the group chat? Did something happen? We’ve all been waiting for you!” They surrounded me in a chorus of urgent voices. The entire hospital entrance fell dead silent. Every gaze, filled with disbelief, landed on me. I slowly turned around and smiled at Fiona, who still stood frozen in place, her face deathly pale.

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I had just returned to the teacher’s dormitory when a group of people blocked me at the door. It was Rachel Morgan, the mother of one of my students, Vivian Morgan. The moment she saw me, she lunged forward, screaming at the top of her lungs. “It’s him! This scumbag assaulted my daughter! She just started freshman year. What’s going to happen to her now?” I was stunned! “What? That’s absolutely impossible!” The hallway filled with people. Some were filming videos, others were whispering among themselves, and some colleagues lowered their heads and slipped into their rooms. “What are you talking about? I’ve never done anything like that!” A young man burst out from the crowd. He threw a punch aimed right at my face. “What kind of teacher are you? You ruined my sister’s innocence.” Rachel slapped a piece of paper right onto my face. “Stop pretending! My daughter said it herself.” Principal Hayes pushed through the crowd and pulled me aside. “Just apologize. Compensate them one million dollars. Don’t let this blow up.”

“Principal, what exactly am I apologizing for?” Principal Hayes’s expression darkened, and he lowered his voice. “Shane, now’s not the time to be stubborn. The parents are emotional. Show them the right attitude first.” “Attitude?” I looked at him. “You want me to show an attitude for something I didn’t do?” Rachel rushed over shrieking. “You’re still pretending! My daughter was almost driven to suicide by you, and you still dare say you didn’t do it?” Ethan Morgan clenched his fists, veins bulging on his neck. “Shane Lawson, if you don’t kneel and apologize today, I’ll kill you!” “Kneel?” I looked toward Vivian Morgan standing behind the crowd. She kept her head down, her school uniform sleeves crumpled from gripping them. I was Vivian Morgan’s class advisor. The first time I entered the classroom, all the other students looked up to listen. Only she didn’t dare make eye contact with me. At the start of the school year, she could only score in the thirties on math tests. When others laughed at her, she would bury her head in her books. After I took over the class, I discovered she would secretly copy her mistakes three times. I had tutored her, explained functions to her. And when classmates mocked her, I once said: “Poor grades aren’t a crime. Giving up is.” As a teacher, I didn’t want any student to fall behind. Rachel was crying and wailing, sitting right on the floor and slapping her thighs. “My daughter is only a freshman! How will she live from now on? How will she get married?” “Shane! We’re the county’s top high school here!” “If this blows up, it’ll seriously damage the school’s reputation!” “Just admit to this first, then we’ll discuss it properly with the parents.” Principal Derek Hayes put his arm around my shoulder, trying to persuade me in a low voice. I shook off Derek Hayes’s hand. “Principal, I never did anything like this!” Derek Hayes’s expression turned grave. “Shane! I know you feel wronged.” “But think about it. You’re just an intern teacher with no permanent position, no connections.” “If this blows up, you won’t even be able to keep your teaching certificate.” “Just appease them for now!” Appease? By admitting guilt? I took a step forward. “Vivian Morgan, look at me.” Rachel immediately blocked her. “You still want to threaten my daughter?” “Everyone saw it! He’s still trying to intimidate the child in public!” Vivian’s shoulders trembled. Ethan immediately shouted. “You dare question her? Look how scared you’ve made her!” Derek Hayes quickly spoke up. “Mr. Lawson, don’t agitate the student.” “Vivian, don’t be afraid. The principal is here. No one can hurt you.” “Let me ask you, did Mr. Lawson often tutor you alone?” Vivian nodded. “Did he sometimes tutor you until very late?” Vivian nodded again. “During tutoring, was it just the two of you in the classroom?” I immediately said: “The door was always open, and there are cameras in the classroom.” “Vivian Morgan, when I tutored you, did I ever close the door when we were alone?” “Did I ever touch you? Did I ever say anything inappropriate?” Tears fell from her eyes, but she still didn’t speak. Derek Hayes sighed, as if deeply pained. “Shane, what’s the point of pressuring a child like this?”

Rachel cried even louder. “Everyone hear that!” “Private tutoring!” “Staying late!” “This inhuman monster!” I stared at Derek Hayes. My heart went cold. Derek Hayes asked again: “Did he buy you bubble tea and bread?” Vivian said quietly: “Yes.” I was almost laughing from anger. “evening study session runs until 9:30. She’s not the only one with low blood sugar. I bought bread for the entire group.” Derek Hayes ignored me and continued questioning. “Did he ever write on your test paper, ‘Don’t be afraid, I’m here’?” Vivian closed her eyes and nodded even more slightly. In that moment, I finally understood. Someone was taking all normal teacher-student care, breaking it into pieces, and assembling it into a knife to stab me with. Rachel rushed over, her fingernails nearly poking my eyes. “You still trying to make excuses? Why would a male teacher treat my daughter so well?” “Because I’m a teacher.” “Bullshit!” She turned around and cried while slapping her thighs. “Everyone look! He still says he’s a teacher. He’s just a scumbag in human skin.” “He targeted my daughter because she’s timid!” “She didn’t dare speak up, so you bullied her!” Derek Hayes spoke again: “Mr. Lawson did that kind of thing to you, didn’t he?” Vivian Morgan lifted her head slightly to look at me. Then she glanced at Rachel. Rachel pinched her arm hard. “Say it! What are you afraid of! I will stand up for you!” Vivian picked at her clothes without speaking. Rachel pressed down on her head. She stiffly nodded. Ethan rushed forward and threw a punch at my face. I dodged to the side. His fist hit the doorframe. “Fuck, you dare dodge?” I stepped back half a step. “Accusing me without evidence! If you attack again, I’ll fight back.” Ethan roared: “You ruined Vivian’s innocence. Even if I beat you to death, it wouldn’t be enough!” Derek Hayes stepped between us. “Everyone calm down!” “Mr. Lawson, your attitude right now is critical.” “Apologize immediately.” “Pay the compensation first and stabilize the situation.” “One million dollars. Transfer it today.” Rachel climbed up from the floor. “One million? You trying to send away beggars?” “My life is so miserable. I raised a daughter, her grades just started improving, and a teacher preyed on her.” “My daughter’s innocence is ruined! Her whole life is over!” Ethan sneered coldly. “My sister still has to get married, go to college, and be a person. Your school thinks one million can shut us up?” “Three million! Not a penny less!” Derek Hayes patted my shoulder and said: “One million is indeed too little, but three million is too high. How about this—I’ll make the call. Two hundred fifty thousand.” “No way. Three million is already cheap for that bastard. My sister was a virgin.” Ethan pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and threw it at my feet. “Three million is for emotional damages. You admit to hurting my sister and can’t go back on it!” “When Vivian graduates from college, you must pay us another five hundred thousand and marry her. Otherwise, you’ll pay a penalty of two million in damages.” I thought I’d misheard. “What did you say?” “You ruined my sister. You have to take responsibility to the end!” Rachel took over. “Our Vivian—if you hadn’t defiled her, she could have married a rich man in the future and earned way more than five hundred thousand. Now you’ve ruined her. You have to compensate!” I looked at that guarantee letter. “Where’s the evidence?” Rachel froze for a moment. “What?” “You say I committed a crime. You want money, a guarantee letter, a marriage promise. Where’s the evidence?”

Rachel pulled a piece of paper from her bag and slapped it onto my face. “This is the hospital’s examination report! It’s written in black and white that my daughter is no longer a virgin! You still want to deny it?” I looked down at the report. The seal of City General Hospital, the red stamp neatly pressed. The name on the report was Vivian Morgan, dated three days ago. The conclusion section had several glaring words. But what did this prove? “This only proves she had sexual activity. It doesn’t prove it was me.” Principal Derek Hayes cleared his throat lightly and stepped in front of me. “Shane, the examination report is right here. You’re Vivian’s class advisor. When something happened to the child, you’re the most suspicious.” After speaking, he gave Rachel a subtle glance. Rachel picked up the cue. “Fine.” “The principal has spoken. We’ll show some respect.” “Two hundred fifty thousand. We need an answer today! If not, tomorrow I’m going to the Board of Education, TV station, and court. I’ll sue you to death!” Rachel wiped her tears. “Once the money arrives, we won’t make a scene.” “We’ll all be family from now on.” I almost laughed out loud. “Family?” Rachel glared at me. “You ruined her. You have to support her for life.” Derek Hayes leaned close to my ear. “Shane, things have come to this point. It’s out of your hands.” “Just pay to settle this!” I stared into his eyes. “Principal Hayes, you’re twisting the truth! You’re planning to force this onto me!” Ethan lost patience. “What the fuck are we wasting words for? This kind of person just needs a beating!” He suddenly kicked toward my abdomen. I stepped to the left, grabbed his ankle with my right hand, and twisted and pushed in one motion. Ethan lost his balance completely and fell hard onto the concrete hallway floor. He gritted his teeth and got up, rushing forward to throw a punch again. In my four years of college, I trained with a coach from the sports academy for three years in boxing. I even won second place in a boxing competition. Against this punk, I could win with my eyes closed. I dodged his straight punch, deflected his forearm with my left hand. My right fist landed precisely under his ribs. Ethan bent over and stepped back three paces, unable to catch his breath. Before his second punch could come out, I’d already gripped his wrist. I twisted it backward, pinning him against the wall. “Don’t move. Move again and your wrist breaks.” Ethan refused to submit and struggled hard. I suddenly released my hand and pushed with the momentum. He stumbled forward, lost his balance. His face hit the ground first, knocking out his front teeth. Blood began seeping out densely across his face. Rachel hugged Ethan’s head, kicking her feet against the concrete floor, wailing. “He’s hitting people! He’s hitting people!” “Everyone saw it! First he raped my daughter, now he’s beaten my son! God! Is there no justice? Is there no law?” “He’s trying to silence us! Murder to silence witnesses! Everyone saw it! Everyone saw it!” Vivian Morgan walked out from the corner. She picked up the bloody tooth from the floor. Then turned to look at me. Her eyes were full of anger. “You really are a scumbag.”

I had tutored her for three months. Every night from seven to ten, rain or shine. Questions she couldn’t solve, I explained one by one. Concepts she didn’t understand, I explained in five different ways. The day she scored 89, I was happier than she was. Now, she was calling me a scumbag. “Shane, now you have another charge—assaulting a student’s family member.” Derek Hayes shook his head, his face full of regret. “Tell me, how do we resolve this?” At the end of the hallway, someone was holding up their phone. Comments were scrolling frantically. “I’m warning you one last time.” Derek Hayes’s tone became completely cold and hard. “If you won’t take a friendly offer, you’ll have to face the consequences. Your intern evaluation, teaching certificate, even your future employment records—you won’t be able to keep any of them.” “You’re just an intern fighting against the entire school? You think you can win?” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a minimum. “I heard your aunt is quite wealthy. Hurry up and raise the money!” “Two hundred fifty thousand to buy your lifetime reputation. You’re getting off cheap.” The person livestreaming with their phone—the viewer count on their screen had already shot up to 23,000. The comments went crazy. “Predator teacher!” “This kind of person should be sentenced!” “How did the school let this kind of person become a teacher?” “Beat him!” Everyone was cursing me. Someone in the crowd shouted: “No smoke without fire.” “Why didn’t they go after other teachers, but specifically you!” “You definitely did it and won’t admit it!” I turned to look. It was my colleague, Marcus. Just last week he’d borrowed my lesson plans. Meeting my gaze, Marcus showed no guilt whatsoever. “Mr. Lawson, I’m not targeting you. I’m just calling it as I see it!” “Everyone, am I right!” The crowd echoed in agreement! Not a single person asked—where’s the evidence? Rachel had somehow gotten up from the floor. Her hair was disheveled, the tear tracks still visible on her face. “I’m telling you, Shane Lawson.” “As long as you sign today and transfer the money, this matter is settled.” She looked smugly at Derek Hayes. “We’re not unreasonable people, right Principal Hayes?” Derek Hayes nodded repeatedly. “Right, right. Mrs. Morgan’s family is very reasonable. Shane, as long as you settle this two hundred fifty thousand and sign the guarantee letter, Mrs. Morgan will treat you like her own son-in-law going forward. Let’s keep it in the family.” Rachel nodded cooperatively. “That’s right. Once the money arrives and you sign, we’ll treat you as one of our own. We’ll let bygones be bygones. From now on, my daughter is yours.” Ethan chimed in too. “Right, brother-in-law. Just pay up. Transfer the two hundred fifty thousand now, sign the guarantee now. I’ll go to the hospital to fix my teeth myself.” Vivian looked at me shyly, her face red. “Principal Hayes, you’re saying as long as I apologize and pay the money, this will all be over, right?” Derek Hayes nodded, his expression relaxing a bit, thinking I was softening. “Then I’d like to confirm once more.” “If I sign this guarantee letter and pay this two hundred fifty thousand, can you guarantee the Morgan family won’t pursue this further, and the school won’t keep any records?” Derek Hayes and Rachel exchanged glances. “Of course. You can rest assured. I’ll make the call.” Derek Hayes said, his voice more certain than before. I watched this farce coldly. They were extorting me. I pulled out my phone from my pocket. Derek Hayes, Rachel, Ethan, and Vivian all looked over. Their eyes full of hope, greed, and the satisfaction of a scheme about to succeed. “Hello, Sean!”

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My housekeeper Martha has an intellectual disability. Out of sympathy, I took her in. Right before my wedding, I was about to invite my friend Tessa to try on her bridesmaid dress. Martha suddenly stopped me: “Miss Claire, don’t let Miss Tessa be your bridesmaid. Mr. Lucas will hit her!” I smiled, thinking she was talking nonsense again. Because my fiancé Lucas Hunt got along well with all my friends. Seeing I didn’t believe her, Martha grabbed my arm and continued: “It’s true! I saw it with my own eyes. That day Mr. Lucas pulled down Miss Tessa’s pants, pressed her against the bathroom wall, and spanked her bottom!” I froze. Martha might be simple-minded, but she never lied. Just then, Lucas’s call came through at the perfect time: “Babe, I have to go to Europe on a business trip tomorrow. There’s a really important project. Can we postpone the wedding a bit?” I let out a cold laugh and replied, “Fine!” After hanging up, I thought of the bet I made with my dad. If this wedding got postponed again, I would go back and accept the blind dates he arranged. So I obediently replied, “Okay, I have other plans next week anyway.” Martha tilted her head, watching me, still muttering: “Miss Claire, don’t be angry. Mr. Lucas isn’t hitting Miss Tessa for the first time. Before, he told me not to tell you. But yesterday I heard Miss Tessa screaming so loudly in the room… I was worried…” I glanced at her and interrupted, “That’s enough, Martha. I understand. Thank you!” After Martha left, my chest tightened with a stabbing pain. I couldn’t breathe. Just as I finished speaking, my phone rang again. It was my dad calling. “Claire, have you thought about it?” My dad’s voice was emotionless. “Dad, I agree. I’ll come back.” Dad fell silent on the other end for a few seconds. He seemed surprised I would give up on Lucas Hunt. After hanging up, I walked into the bedroom and took out the marriage certificate from the drawer. But suddenly I noticed the stamp on the marriage certificate was misspelled. I carefully compared my marriage certificate with the one on the city hall website. My tears finally fell. Even my marriage certificate was fake. Soon the doorbell rang. I wiped my tears and went to open the door. Tessa stood at the door, holding the little cakes I loved: “Claire, I’m here to try on the bridesmaid dress.” I let her in. I suddenly remembered the scene from two years ago when she came to stay with me. I enthusiastically helped her arrange work and housing. Lucas Hunt had always been thoughtful and considerate toward my friends. Gradually, Lucas Hunt even drove her to work. From that time on, the passenger seat was no longer my place. It became the exclusive seat for Tessa, who supposedly got carsick. But I never imagined they had already gotten together long ago. “Claire, what are you spacing out for?” Tessa waved her hand in front of me. “Nothing. The dress is in the closet. Go try it on.” She smiled and went in. I inadvertently caught sight of the Tiffany key necklace on her neck. That was the birthday gift Lucas Hunt gave her a few days ago. I’d known Lucas Hunt for five years. Apart from giving me money, his gifts were always just a hug or a kiss. Then he’d say affectionately, “You’re my wife. What’s mine is yours.” I used to be satisfied with that romance. But everything changed after Tessa came. He would give her limited edition necklaces and cream puffs from West Street. Tessa’s voice came from the closet: “Claire, come help me look.” I walked over and watched her turn in front of the mirror. “Beautiful,” I said. She sighed, “But it’s such a shame. I can’t be your bridesmaid next week!” A chill ran through me. I asked, “Why not?” She lowered her head, her ears flushing red: “I have other important life arrangements…” Seeming unwilling to talk more about it, she changed the subject: “By the way, Claire, have you tried on your wedding dress yet?” I shook my head. I had fought so hard for this wedding. Lucas Hunt was always too busy. The wedding kept getting delayed until it couldn’t be delayed anymore. Even that custom wedding dress—I could only pick it up from the shop tonight. Tessa continued talking to herself: “You don’t know, last time when I went to try on wedding dresses, the owner said that custom piece was particularly suited for me. Lucas also said it looked good…” I looked at her without saying anything. A while ago, Tessa suddenly said she was getting engaged. I asked her who her fiancé was, but she refused to tell me, saying she’d give me a surprise later. She dragged Lucas Hunt along to try on wedding dresses, smiling as if it were the most natural thing: “Claire, let me borrow your man for a bit. I need to pick out a groom’s suit for my groom. Lucas’s physique is just perfect…” Before I could agree, Lucas Hunt readily agreed without hesitation. They were gone the whole afternoon. When they came back, Lucas Hunt said Tessa’s wedding dress was beautiful. Now that I think about it, he thought Tessa in a wedding dress was beautiful. But I had never even worn a wedding dress. Every time I mentioned having a wedding, Lucas Hunt was always too busy… He’d been busy for three years. We’d set dates and postponed, postponed and set dates again. Over and over, I couldn’t even remember how many times it had been. “Claire, are you okay?” Tessa tilted her head to look at me. “I’m fine.” The door lock clicked. Lucas Hunt was back, coincidentally holding two cups of coffee. As if he already knew there would be two women drinking coffee at home today. Seeing Tessa in the bridesmaid dress standing in the living room, he raised his eyebrows: “Well, whose bride is this?”

Tessa shot him a coquettish look: “Don’t say that. I’m just trying it on…” Lucas Hunt laughed and handed her the coffee: “Less sugar, more milk, hot.” Then he glanced at me: “Yours is on the table.” This order of priority seemed to have always existed. It was just particularly glaring today… Tessa suddenly called out to him, “Oh no, the zipper on the back of this dress isn’t done up properly. Help me out.” I turned to look. It had clearly been zipped up before, but now it had slipped down, exposing her fair skin. Just as I was about to help her, Lucas Hunt had already stepped forward. He pinched the zipper and pulled it up. The practiced motion stung my eyes. He turned to look at me: “Where’s Martha?” I snapped back to reality, forcing my tears back: “She had to go back to her hometown. I let her leave two days early.” Lucas Hunt reached out and pinched my cheek, “Martha’s so lucky to have met such a kind mistress like you.” After speaking, he lowered his head to kiss me. A loud crash came from behind us. Tessa had knocked over the coffee cup and burned her hand, letting out a shriek. Lucas Hunt immediately let go of me and strode over: “How can you be so careless? Did you get burned? I’ll get the medicine.” He rummaged through the medicine box muttering complaints, then crouched in front of Tessa to apply ointment. He kept saying, “So clumsy. How old are you anyway?” I picked up the coffee on the table and took a sip. Bitter. So bitter. I put down the coffee and walked into the bedroom to start packing. Lucas Hunt appeared at the door: “What are you doing?” “Packing. Going home.” He frowned, “They want you back?” I didn’t look up: “Yeah.” “Claire,” he walked in, “I’ve told you so many times. Parents who don’t bless us aren’t worth keeping. Why do you have to go back and suffer?” My hands paused while folding clothes. He really had said it many times. From the first time my parents objected, he’d told me to cut ties with my family, saying parents like that weren’t worth it. But I didn’t listen. I kept trying to make my parents acknowledge that I’d married well. I’d been looking forward to next week’s wedding for three years. They say a wedding is a ceremony every girl wants. But for me, it was more about showing my parents that Lucas Hunt was worth it! I wanted to tell them he still remembered the promise he made me when he was at his lowest. That he was willing to give me a grand wedding to announce it to the world… But in the end, it was all just my self-deception. If he really loved me, how could he bear to make me cut ties with my parents? “We’re not having the reception either,” I zipped up my suitcase, “and you won’t be there anyway. What am I staying here for?” He was speechless. “I just said we’d postpone it, not cancel it,” his tone softened, “something urgent came up at the company. I had no choice. About your parents—once I’m done with this, I’ll go talk to them myself.” Tessa also came over carrying the bridesmaid dress: “Claire, don’t blame Lucas. You just stay home drinking coffee and watering plants every day. How would you know how busy he’s been at the company lately?” “As his secretary, I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s been working around the clock for weeks!” I paused: “Secretary? Aren’t you in the operations division?” Something suddenly flashed through my mind—employee gossip I’d overheard when I went to find Lucas Hunt at the company a few days ago: “Mr. Hunt’s secretary follows him around all day. They close the office door for an hour or two, and when they come out, her hair is all messy.” I’d laughed it off at the time. I thought Lucas Hunt’s secretary was still old Robert. He was used to him and wouldn’t replace him easily. Turns out… this secretary wasn’t that secretary! Tessa froze for a moment, quickly glancing at Lucas Hunt, then explained with a smile: “The operations division hasn’t been busy lately, so I volunteered to help Lucas share the load. He was too tired. I couldn’t just watch.” “Claire, I’m doing this because I feel bad for your husband. If you can’t help him, I will!”

It wasn’t that I couldn’t help—Lucas Hunt wouldn’t let me go to the company. He said I married him to enjoy life. That was all I needed to do. But he didn’t tell me that to enjoy this bit of comfort, I’d have to lose my marriage, my friends, my parents, and my dignity… Just as Lucas Hunt was about to chime in, we heard the door from the living room. Martha was back. “Mr. Hunt, Miss Claire!” “Didn’t you have the day off?” Lucas Hunt asked. Martha scratched her head: “I got halfway there and remembered I forgot the motion sickness medicine Miss Claire bought for me.” She looked at Tessa with her crooked smile, then at Lucas Hunt, and suddenly laughed twice: “Mr. Hunt, please don’t hit Miss Tessa anymore!” Tessa’s expression changed: “Martha, what nonsense are you talking about?” Martha tilted her head, looking confused: “I’m not talking nonsense.” The living room fell silent. Lucas Hunt was the first to react, frowning and scolding: “Martha, if your head’s not clear, go rest. Stop spouting nonsense.” Then he turned to me with a helpless tone, “You know her condition. You’d actually believe her crazy talk?” Tessa’s eyes also reddened, looking aggrieved: “Claire, just fire this Martha. She’s always talking nonsense.” She tugged at my sleeve. I lowered my eyes, then let out a laugh: “I know. Martha’s mind isn’t clear. I won’t take what she says seriously.” Lucas Hunt let out a breath of relief and walked over to squeeze my shoulder. “Alright, I’m going to the study to work.” Tessa, probably to “avoid suspicion,” didn’t eagerly follow him like usual. Instead, she pulled me to sit down. “Claire, I’d love to keep you company during the break, but remember when I tried on the wedding dress? Actually, I’m getting married next week too! It works out perfectly that your wedding got postponed.” I sneered inwardly. I could guess who the groom was, but I was too lazy to ask. She rambled on for a bit, then suddenly looked pleading: “There’s a very important document that needs to be signed for. Help me receive it before you go home, okay? You don’t have a job anyway. You can go back anytime. No rush for a day or two.” I hesitated for two seconds, then nodded: “Okay.” She happily hugged me: “I knew you were the best! I’ll leave first then.” The house fell quiet. My heart also completely quieted down. Early the next morning, I didn’t get up to see Lucas Hunt off. He sat by the bed, running his fingers through my hair and instructing: “Babe, when I get back, I promise I’ll give you a grand wedding that will make your parents happy too!” In the past, my heart would have been sweet for days. But now, every word felt like he was reading a script. Reading it to someone he had no intention of keeping promises to. Seeing I wasn’t responding, thinking I was still unhappy about postponing the wedding, he left on his own. The moment he left, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out. I ran into Martha at the door. I looked at her and smiled: “Martha, would you be willing to come back to my hometown with me? You could work there from now on.” Her eyes lit up: “That would be great! I know Miss Tessa is pregnant with a baby~ Mr. Hunt said when the baby’s born, he’ll give it to Miss Claire to raise. I don’t want to take care of someone else’s child!” I froze, instinctively touching my own belly. Married for three years, he had always refused to give me a child. A while ago I said I was bored at home. He suddenly said, “How about we adopt one?” “Childbirth is too painful for women. I can’t bear to see you suffer like that.” I’d actually believed his “concern” at the time. I was too foolish.

When I got home, Father was reading the newspaper in the living room. He looked up and saw me, frowning: “You really came back? Not having the wedding anymore?” “Not anymore.” I handed my suitcase to the servant. Father put down the newspaper and beckoned me to sit. “Why didn’t that girl Tessa come back with you? Hasn’t she been living at your place?” “She had something to do.” Father snorted: “What could she possibly have to do? She just likes clinging to you. Two years ago I arranged a good job for her, but she insisted on going to find you.” I didn’t respond. Perhaps she wasn’t going to find me at all, but to find Lucas Hunt. She was a scholarship student my father sponsored. Later, my father even brought her mother to work as a cook. During those years when I was fighting with my family over Lucas Hunt, she always supported me. And all along, she was working her way into Lucas Hunt’s heart… Father continued asking: “Did you handle the divorce paperwork? Back then you insisted I give him the cooperation rights for that project. If you two divorce now, I won’t be giving it to him anymore!” My eyes suddenly stung. I didn’t dare tell Dad that my marriage certificate was fake. I didn’t even need a divorce. I nodded: “Yeah, divorced!” Father nodded. There was heartache in his eyes, but he didn’t ask more. The next day, Dad arranged for my blind date to come over. His name was Xavier Moore. His family was as wealthy as mine. He was very handsome but rather quiet. We sat face to face for three minutes, and the wedding was settled. Yet Lucas Hunt and I had been together for three years, and he still hadn’t given me a wedding. How ironic… The wedding was held at a resort hotel owned by the Moore family. Although it was rushed, it was extremely luxurious. After the ceremony, we went straight to get our marriage certificate that afternoon. This marriage certificate was real. On our wedding night, I was nervous when my phone rang. It was a video call from Tessa. I hesitated for a few seconds, then answered. She was wearing a slip dress, smiling sweetly: “Claire, did you sign for that document for me?” There was a probing tone in her voice. I smiled, “Already signed for it. Don’t worry.” Her eyes brightened: “Good. Once my wedding’s over, I’ll come back to keep you company right away!” As she spoke, she deliberately turned her phone around. The screen swept across the hotel room. The bed was messy, her face flushed, unable to hide her smile: “Tonight, my husband and I did it three times. I told him to stop but he wouldn’t. My back hurts so much now!” A man’s voice came through the phone: “Only three times and you can’t take it? We used to be able to do it seven times in one night.” Tessa’s smile couldn’t be suppressed. She said coquettishly: “I know, you’re so annoying.” I held the phone without saying anything. Then Tessa spoke to me through the phone again: “Claire, guess who my groom is?” “No need to guess,” I said. “Congratulations on your marriage. I need to go to bed with my groom too.” The other end paused, as if not processing what I’d said. At that moment, Xavier came out of the bathroom, walked to the bedside, and suddenly reached out to embrace my waist, his lips brushing against my earlobe. Caught off guard, I let out a soft moan. Tessa was still in a daze when the man beside her suddenly sounded alert: “Who are you talking to? What groom?”

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I secretly started dating my incredibly aloof, strictly-business professor. It was only after we got together that I realized the man was an absolute stage-five clinger. The relationship quickly became a velvet trap I could not escape, no matter how hard I tried. Then an accident wiped his memory. Testing the waters, I leaned in and softly called him “baby” in front of everyone. Instead of melting like he usually did, his face hardened into a scowl. “Miss Lily, there is zero room for negotiation regarding your makeup exam. Do not try to use your personal charm to take shortcuts.” Confirming Professor Stewart Wright had completely forgotten me, I was ecstatic. I practically sprinted to the nearest college bar, ready to mingle and meet some new, hot guys. Just as I was hitting it off with a cute stranger, Stewart suddenly materialized out of nowhere. His face was thunderous, but his voice broke with pure desperation. “There were too many people on campus earlier. I had to act like that. Please, I am begging you, do not get so close to anyone else. Seeing you with him, I feel like I am literally going to die.” 1 The eighth time I tried to break up with Stewart, his eyes immediately welled with tears. This was a man who routinely made grad students cry in his lectures. The sudden shift in power dynamics threw me completely off balance, draining all my aggressive confidence. “Even if you cry, we are done,” I stuttered out, losing my nerve. The man looked even more heartbroken. His thick, dark lashes clumped with moisture as heavy tears rolled down his sharp cheekbones. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face in my chest and rubbing against me like a stray dog. “Baby, sweetie, please do not say those words,” he mumbled against my skin. “My heart literally cannot take it.” Remembering how I always caved in the past, I forced my brain to stop thinking with my hormones. Ignoring his pathetic whimpering, I pulled out the ultimate trump card I learned from late-night soap operas. “Let me go. I am hopelessly in love with someone else.” Stewart gave me a look that said he knew this day would come. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, but the smile was pitch-black. “Who is he? Tell me, who is the man-whore you are seeing behind my back? The senior who carried your books last week, or the jock from the basketball team?” I decided to just roll with the lie, defending this imaginary lover with my chest. “None of your business. Whoever he is, he is better than you.” The man fell silent. His long, elegant fingers slid up my sides like nimble snakes. The cool touch of his skin made me shiver, my lips parting on a soft gasp. Stewart took the opening, crashing his mouth down on mine. His eyes were terrifyingly dark. “It is getting late. There is nothing a good night in bed cannot fix, right?” He kept me awake until two in the morning. By the time I was pulled into his warm chest, I did not even have the energy to curse at him. My eyelids were practically glued shut. His raspy, exhausted voice echoed in my ear. “Lily, abandoning a puppy is illegal, you know.” He reached over, grabbing my phone to toggle off my morning alarm. “I will excuse your morning classes tomorrow.” I had changed my lock screen passcode countless times, but Stewart always managed to unlock it without breaking a sweat. That night, I had a long, fragmented dream, reliving all my failed breakup attempts. Every single time, the man managed to trick, guilt, or seduce me into staying. It all started when my major’s core professor had to travel abroad for a sudden conference. The department was short-staffed, so they specifically invited Stewart, a brilliant research fellow, to sit in on the last lecture to take over the curriculum. I sat a few rows away, completely mistaking him for a student from another class. I was entirely bewitched by his untouchable, icy aura and absolute model-tier face. Right after the lecture ended, I gathered every ounce of liquid courage in my veins and said the words I would regret for the rest of my life. “You are incredibly gorgeous. Can I get your Insta or your number?” Stewart looked at me with cold, unreadable eyes. “I will give it to you tomorrow.” The very next day, my untouchable campus crush walked into the lecture hall in a tailored suit, establishing himself as our new professor. He stopped right in front of my desk, his face blank while my cheeks burned crimson, and pulled up his contact QR code. “Class representative, add me. It will make discussing the coursework easier.” One moment of bravery ruined my life. It was not until much later that I found out Stewart originally showed up that day to reject the teaching offer in person. But he accidentally made eye contact with me while I was openly drooling over him. He changed his mind on the spot and took the job. But finding out my situationship was actually my professor was not even the worst part. Once we started dating in secret, I discovered that beneath his cold, ascetic exterior was an intensely clingy, obsessive boyfriend. Without asking, he bought a luxury townhouse near campus entirely in my name. Once he coaxed me into moving in, he wanted to be glued to my hip twenty-five hours a day. He even insisted on following me into the shower. He forced me to use his black card for everything. One time I accidentally paid for something with my own money, and he sulked for days, constantly asking if I did not need him anymore. Another time, I sneaked out to a frat party without telling him. When I did not reply to his texts for two hours, the maniac almost called the police. When he finally caught me, he carried my drunk body to bed, silently taking off his glasses and his expensive watch. “Baby, liars have to be punished.” Just thinking about it made my throat feel dry and sore. Completely opposite to his pristine, academic vibe, Stewart was an absolute animal behind closed doors. When the resentment finally reached a boiling point, I mustered up my nonexistent courage and dumped him. Except, I just could not shake him off. I slept straight through the afternoon. Waking up, I checked our class group chat and saw an announcement. Professor Wright took a bad fall while hiking in the mountains, so our class was rescheduled. I opened my pinned chats. Stewart’s last text was sent at six in the morning. Because of the fake lover I invented, Stewart insisted on dragging his colleagues on a spiritual hiking retreat to burn some sage and cleanse me of my “toxic karma.” Did he end up cleansing himself off a cliff? What kind of messed-up karma was that? Since I was already committed to breaking up, I hesitated for a second before putting my phone down, refusing to text him back. By evening, news broke that Stewart was discharged from the hospital. The diagnosis stated he suffered head trauma and might experience partial memory loss. But after his family, friends, and colleagues tested him, they realized his brain was perfectly fine. He even scored higher on an IQ test than he did last year. The doctors found absolutely nothing wrong with his body and sent him home. That night, fulfilling my duties as the class rep, I went to his office to drop off the final batch of assignments. I fully expected him to use his injury as an excuse to whine and beg for cuddles. Instead, Stewart barely lifted his eyes from his laptop. His voice was freezing cold. “The grades are already finalized. You can pick up the makeup exam list on Friday.” “Oh,” I nodded, feeling a bizarre knot forming in my stomach. His attitude had completely reverted to the icy, untouchable professor I met on day one. A wild thought struck my brain. What if the memory loss the doctors warned about was specifically about me? Since we kept our relationship strictly underground, nobody else knew we were dating, which was why everyone thought he was fine. To test my theory, I used the noisy chatter of the neighboring cubicles as cover and leaned over his desk, whispering a soft “baby.” This was one of his mandatory conditions for keeping us a secret. Every time I dropped off homework, I had to call him baby before he would let me leave. But this time, Stewart frowned, standing up to look down at me with pure disdain. “Miss Lily, there is absolutely no room for negotiation on your makeup exam.” The surrounding faculty members immediately shot us gossipy glances. After Stewart shot them a warning glare, they scrambled back to their paperwork. As Hollis University’s youngest genius professor, Stewart came from old money. He was notoriously sharp-tongued and unapproachable. Both students and faculty were terrified of him. He lowered his voice, his tone mocking. “You should spend more time studying. Your personal charm will not support you taking these kinds of shortcuts.” It took my brain a second to realize he thought I was trying to seduce him for a better grade. But this proved one thing. He genuinely did not remember me. Because of our secret arrangement, I always kept his contact name saved as something generic. I made him delete our text history daily. Every single couple photo and video we took was locked exclusively in my phone. To him, there was zero trace of our relationship in his life. Did that mean my eighth breakup attempt was a total success? Realizing this, the sting of his insult vanished, replaced by the pure joy of being single again. “You misheard me, Professor. I was just clearing my throat.” Stewart condescended to actually look me in the eye, his dark pupils suddenly shifting with an unreadable emotion. Having explained myself, I spun around and practically skipped out of the office. I did not notice the man staring intensely at my back. He turned to the professor at the next desk, looking genuinely confused. “Why did I agree to teach this basic undergrad class?” The colleague replied nervously, “We have no idea. We all thought you would turn it down. You look terribly pale, Professor Wright. Are you okay?” Stewart kept his voice flat. “I am fine. My heart is just beating too fast. It actually hurts.” “Probably just irritated by that student.” Walking out of the academic building, I immediately texted my best friend Zoe to come over to my place for a massive celebratory feast. Thank god Stewart never let me spend his money because he was terrified I would feel burdened. The luxury townhouse, the credit cards, the sports car in the garage, everything was legally in my name. It took Zoe less than a second to accept the fact that I was a secret millionaire. “Lily, this giant bathtub, these floor-to-ceiling windows. Speaking from ten years of reading romance novels, this place is literally designed for aggressive bedroom activities.” I rubbed my chronically sore lower back and swiftly changed the subject. “I think we should order spicy lemon chicken tonight.” Zoe’s eyes lit up. “Wait, do we have a private chef here too?” I paused, reality hitting me. “I used to. Not anymore.” We ended up ordering a mountain of overpriced takeout. Honestly, it tasted like garbage compared to the meals Stewart used to cook for me. After eating my weight in carbs, I checked my phone and saw a few new messages. It was from Stewart. Professor Wright: [Miss Lily, you left your umbrella in my office. Do you want to come get it?] [I need to lock up.] Half an hour passed before he texted again. Professor Wright: [Miss Lily, who are you eating dinner with? Does it really take this long?] [Whatever. I do not actually care.] [I am working overtime today, so I will be leaving late. Come get it if you have time.] A second before Zoe leaned over to snoop, I frantically changed his contact name back to his formal title. “Since when is Professor Wright such a chatterbox?” Zoe asked, looking completely lost. After dating for so long, switching back to a normal student-teacher dynamic felt incredibly jarring. I typed back a polite response: [Sorry Professor, just saw this. Are you still there? I can come grab it now.] It was almost eleven at night. Stewart usually went back to his private lab or went straight home by now. To my shock, he replied instantly with one word: [Yes.] I stared at the screen, trying to formulate an excuse to grab it tomorrow. Zoe stopped me. “Do not do that, babe. I still have to take his makeup exam. Let us go get it right now. We can bring him a hot coffee to score some brownie points. I will go with you.” I was never good at saying no, so I caved. But the moment we reached his office door, Zoe totally chickened out. “Okay, Lily, just thinking about his scary resting bitch face is making my knees weak. You are the class rep, you go in. Give him the coffee. I will wait out here.” Before I could object, Zoe bolted down the hallway. I pushed the door open. The moment I stepped inside, the lights completely died. The campus power grid had failed again. I fumbled in the pitch black, setting the coffee down on the nearest desk, frantically digging for my phone’s flashlight. Instead, I crashed face-first into a solid wall of muscle. Before I could lose my balance, my hands instinctively wrapped around the person’s waist. Like pure muscle memory, Stewart wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against his chest, his lips naturally brushing against the crook of my neck. The movement was so flawless, so deeply ingrained, neither of us even thought about it. When reality finally caught up, Stewart froze completely stiff. Making it a million times worse, the lights snapped back on. We stared at each other. For the first time ever, I saw genuine, raw panic cracking through his usually flawless composure. “Sila… Professor Wright.” I almost dropped his first name. Nobody warned me how violently awkward it was to interact as strangers with someone who knew exactly what you looked like naked. “Apologies,” Stewart said, stepping back rapidly. “That was an accident.” Seeing him treat me like a biohazard triggered a sudden flashback of him acting like a giant, clingy golden retriever, constantly demanding cuddles. It seemed like as long as I did not actively pursue him, his factory-reset personality would ensure our paths never crossed again. This was for the best. Zero risk of repeating my mistakes. I walked over to the corner and grabbed my umbrella. “It is not safe at night,” Stewart said stiffly. “I will walk you back. As your professor, I have a duty of care.” I shook my head, keeping my answers vague. “No need. I live off-campus with someone.” “Who? A guy or a girl?” I blinked, genuinely thinking his memory had just snapped back. Thankfully, his tone flattened out a second later. “You do not have to answer that. I do not make a habit of prying into people’s private lives.” His pink lips moved as he spoke. Even after living with him for months, looking at that face still made my brain short-circuit. Sometimes I really wanted to slap myself for being such a sucker for a pretty face. “Goodbye, Professor.” I practically ran out of the suffocating room. Back in the office, Stewart pulled up his texts with Declan, his childhood best friend and primary doctor. [Why does my chest physically ache the second I look at that student?] Declan: [Then stop looking at her.] [It hurts worse when I am not looking at her.] Declan: [Then look at her more.] Stewart was hovering over the block button, ready to delete this quack from his life. Declan suddenly sent another text: [Bro, do you have a crush on her? Send a pic, let me see this goddess.] Stewart: [You do not deserve to look at her.] Back at the townhouse, Zoe and I curled up on the massive sofa, binging reality TV. I was just internally celebrating how peaceful it was to watch a show without a man biting my neck and demanding attention, when Zoe suddenly jumped up. “Wait, this makes no sense, Lily.” “What is it?” My stomach dropped, terrified she had found some leftover trace of Stewart hiding in the house. “We are practically filthy rich right now. Why are we sitting at home eating takeout and watching TV? We are acting like lottery winners who just bought a thousand boxes of instant ramen.” Zoe wiggled her eyebrows, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Let us go to a club tomorrow. Find some tragic, broken college boy and buy him an expensive drink.” “I do not know…” I bit my lip, trying to hide my smile. “I guess I should go pick out a cute dress.” Ever since I started dating Stewart, my freedom to look at attractive men was instantly revoked. If I stared at the cute barista at the coffee shop for more than two seconds, he would spiral into a jealous panic. “Baby, do you like younger guys now? I am four years older than you. Do you think I am getting old and ugly?” I would genuinely try to comfort him. “But you are so handsome.” Stewart would immediately turn around, buy a premium membership at a med-spa, and secretly write in his diary: [This face is my only leverage. There are too many man-whores out there trying to steal my wife. I need to keep her on a tighter leash.] When we arrived at the most exclusive club in the city, Zoe pulled out a breath spray. “Want some, babe?” I shook my head immediately. Because I loved strawberries, Stewart exclusively used strawberry-flavored everything. I practically had PTSD whenever I smelled it now. Zoe dragged me through the sweaty crowd straight to the front of the stage to watch the live band. The lead singer had these gorgeous, flirty eyes. He kept looking my way, winking at me throughout the set. When the song ended, the guy unstrapped his guitar and walked straight up to me through the deafening cheers. “You guys sounded great,” I offered awkwardly. “You completely ignored me up there, pretty girl,” he teased, flashing two deep dimples. He had that perfect, golden-retriever boy-next-door energy. It was contagious. I was just about to reply when a heavy, chilling sensation crept down my spine. Turning around, I found Stewart staring at me, his gaze dark and suffocating.

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1 The week my phone nearly vibrated itself into oblivion, I was at a competitor’s office, getting up to speed on their operations. This whole mess started with my company’s absurd new policy. They took six years of my work data—every client interaction, every successful pitch, every closed deal—and fed it to an AI to create my “digital twin.” From that day on, my digital twin handled all online tasks. I, the original, was relegated to offline schmoozing, wining and dining clients. Last month, I closed a massive seven-figure deal. Under the old system, my commission should have been at least ten thousand dollars. But when I got my pay stub, the number made my head spin: $960. I stormed into the finance department, convinced there had been a mistake. The finance director didn’t even bother to look up. She glanced at the paper, tossed it back at me, and said in a voice as cold as ice, “There’s no mistake. New company policy. Your digital twin closed the deal online. It gets ninety percent of the commission. You get ten.” She then added, with a syrupy, condescending smile, “You just have a few drinks with clients every now and then. Pulling in almost a grand a month for that? What’s there to be unhappy about?” I was the one who had brought in over seventy percent of the company’s revenue. And she had the audacity to call me lazy. I quit on the spot. And I took the two-million-dollar deal that was on the verge of being signed with me. My next stop was their biggest competitor. … I’d been chasing that million-dollar contract with Apex Corp. for half a year. I remembered sitting at the dinner table with their CEO, Mr. Carter, when he clapped me on the shoulder and said, “Sophie, if it were anyone else handling this, I wouldn’t sign.” But just because the final contract link was sent by my digital twin, it got ninety percent of the credit? My $10,000 commission shrank to a pathetic $960? “What, you think that’s too little?” Seeing my dissatisfaction, Vivian, the finance director, scowled. “I just explained it to you, didn’t I?” she snapped. “From the initial contact and needs assessment to the final contract negotiation, your digital twin handled everything. All you did was meet Mr. Carter a few times and treat him to a few meals on the company’s dime. You should be grateful you’re getting nine hundred bucks at all!” Vivian was the CEO Mark’s sister-in-law, parachuted into the company as CFO three months ago. Her first order of business was a brutal cost-cutting and efficiency initiative, which led to the rollout of the AI digital twins. It started small. They fed all the code written by a few of their programmers into an AI, creating digital versions of them. Then, they “optimized” the human programmers—by firing them—and had the AI write the code. When that proved successful, saving them a few salaries, the floodgates opened. Now, most of the company’s backend developers and customer service reps were gone. All that remained were a few fresh-faced college grads to handle basic maintenance. The once-bustling office floor was now a ghost town of empty desks. My former colleagues were gone, but their digital twins remained, tirelessly working for the company. As a frontline sales rep, I was feeling the pain most acutely. I had spent years building a rapport with our tech team. I could give them a vague description, and they’d instantly grasp what I needed. Now, I was dealing with AI counterparts that couldn’t understand plain English. The demos they produced for clients weren’t just a little off; they were completely irrelevant. My workload skyrocketed. I was spending every waking moment micromanaging these digital morons, constantly correcting their work. I complained to Mark. He just smiled his usual placid smile. “Sophie, AI is the future. As a tech company, we have to be on the cutting edge. There are always going to be some growing pains. You’ll get used to it.” He even tried to reassure me. “Don’t worry, we’re monitoring the situation. The issues you’ve raised will be resolved soon.” I never imagined his solution would be to distill me into a digital twin and have it interface with the tech twins. 2 Now the problem started at the source. On top of my usual client management, I spent every remaining second of my day chasing down project updates and cleaning up the messes made by the digital twins. But in Vivian’s eyes, I was just slacking off, enjoying lavish meals on the company’s dime and still expecting a $960 cut. As if I’d won the lottery. “What, am I wrong?!” she sneered. “The company invested money and resources to build you this digital twin to handle client communication. Do you have any idea how much work that saves you? And instead of being grateful for the company’s investment, you have the nerve to complain that we’re not paying you enough! You think we owe you something?” She was warming up now. “Go on, ask around. Find me one other salesperson who makes nearly a grand a month just for having a few dinners. You’re just pulling rank because you’ve been here a while.” Her voice rose with every word. “Honestly, clients sign with us because of the strength of our products. You really think it’s all because of you? Anyone could do what you do now. I could hire a fresh college grad—prettier, younger, more obedient, and a hell of a lot cheaper. Take the money or get out!” Six years. I had given six years of my life to CloudForge. I was the top seller for four consecutive years. Many of my clients were people I had cultivated since my very first day. If Vivian had ever spent a single day in sales, she would never have said something so ignorant. She thought our products were so good that clients would just line up to sign? She never stopped to consider why, among dozens of similar companies, they chose CloudForge. My clients weren’t loyal to the product; they were loyal to me, Sophie. She had no idea the lengths I went to for them. It wasn’t just about being on call 24/7 for project updates. It was about helping them when their parents were sick, picking up their kids from school, giving them advice on home renovations, even feeding their pets when they were out of town. If they called, I was there, no questions asked. Holidays, birthdays, weddings, funerals—I showed up for all of it. My clients were my friends. Our relationship went far beyond a simple business transaction. But in Vivian’s world, none of that mattered. Honestly, I had been thinking about leaving ever since they “optimized” the tech team. I only stayed out of a sense of loyalty. But if she really thought anyone could do my job, then fine. Let her try. “So, the company is firing me?” Seeing that I understood, Vivian nodded without hesitation. “That’s right. We have no place for ungrateful employees who have no sense of discipline and can’t even be bothered to clock in.” 3 I laughed to myself. I’m in sales. If I sat in the office clocking in and out every day, where the hell did she think all their contracts came from? “Fine. Then please provide me with a written termination notice. According to labor laws, since the company is terminating my employment, you’re required to pay N+1 severance. I’ve been here for six years. I’ll leave as soon as the payment is processed.” “Severance?” Vivian took a long, noisy sip of her bubble tea and looked at me as if I were a joke. “Why should you get severance? You’re the one who wants to quit. What does that have to do with the company? We did you a favor by reducing your workload with a digital twin, and now you have the gall to ask me for money?” She waved a dismissive hand. “Forget it. You’re not getting a single cent. And if you push this, I’ll make sure everyone in this industry knows what kind of person you are. Let’s see who’ll be brave enough to hire you then.” With that, she shooed me away. I was about to argue further when my phone rang. It was Mr. Carter. He said communicating with “me” online was confusing and he wanted to meet in person. No doubt, my digital twin was screwing things up again. Even though I was quitting, I couldn’t just walk away from Mr. Carter after he’d just signed the deal. It wasn’t right. I arranged a time to meet him and went back to my desk to pack my things. As I did, I heard Vivian’s venomous voice behind me. “A real thankless snake. All she cares about is money.” I ignored her and walked back to my desk. My apprentice, Emily, looked at me with worried eyes. “Sophie, what did Vivian say? Was the pay stub a mistake?” I shook my head and told her everything Vivian had said. Not just Emily, but several other salespeople overheard and gathered around my desk, their faces a mixture of shock and outrage. “What? That’s insane! A ninety-ten split with no warning? You can’t run a business like that!” “Are they going to make a digital twin of me next? If so, I’m out of here.” “Seriously. Our base salary is nothing. We live on commission. Who’s going to be motivated to close deals with a policy like this?” As they were talking, the sharp click-clack of high heels approached from behind. It was Vivian. The faces of my colleagues instantly paled. They scrambled back to their desks, heads down. Vivian barked at them, “What do you all think you’re doing? It’s work hours! Stop gossiping and get back to it!” Then her glare landed on me. “Sophie, let me warn you. Don’t think you’re hot stuff just because you’ve closed a few deals. I can’t stand old dogs like you who think they own the place. I’m docking five hundred from your salary this month. And if I catch you spreading rumors in this office again, you’re fired!” 4 I looked at her, my face a mask of calm. “What did I say that wasn’t true? The company did it, but I’m not allowed to talk about it? What right do you have to dock my pay? If you can’t stand the sight of me, just pay my severance, and I’ll be gone in a heartbeat.” “You really think I can’t touch you!” she shrieked, slamming her hand on my desk. I was done arguing. I grabbed my bag and walked out. I wasn’t afraid of her. But facing Mr. Carter, I felt a pang of guilt. I had promised him I would personally oversee his project, and now, I was leaving. “Mr. Carter, I’m afraid I won’t be able to continue managing your project,” I began. “But don’t worry, I’ll entrust it to my most capable colleague. And if you run into any communication issues, you can still contact me anytime.” I added, “The contract also clearly states that if you’re not satisfied with the first version the company delivers, you can cancel the contract at any time.” To my surprise, Mr. Carter was less interested in the project and more interested in my resignation. “Sophie, you’re really quitting?” His voice was filled with excitement. “Then come work for me! Be my sales director. You know how many times I’ve tried to poach you.” I laughed, feeling a little overwhelmed. I told him I’d think about it and headed back to the office. When I walked in, I found my desk completely empty. “Where are my things?” I asked Emily. She pointed, her face flushed with indignation. “Vivian said your presence was bad for team morale. She moved all your stuff… over there.” I turned. A new desk had been set up right next to the restrooms. All my belongings were haphazardly thrown into a cardboard box on top of it. Vivian emerged from her office, arms crossed, leaning against a partition with a smug look on her face. “So, how does our sales champion like her new office? You’re the one who said salespeople have flexible hours and are rarely in the office. I figured you wouldn’t mind where you sat.” I gave the desk a single glance and walked straight to Mark’s office. Mark was an alum from my university. When he was starting his company, he begged me to join him. Out of loyalty to our shared alma mater, I turned down several better offers to join his tiny startup, operating out of a cramped residential apartment. For six long years, I helped him build the company to where it was today: a full floor in a prime commercial skyscraper. I needed to know if this was all Vivian’s doing, or if she was acting with his approval. 5 After I explained the situation, Mark leaned back in his plush leather chair, his expression a mask of friendly concern. “Sophie, it hasn’t been easy getting the company to this point. You know how tough the market is this year. When Vivian proposed the cost-cutting measures, I’ll admit, I thought it was a good idea.” He continued, his tone patient and patronizing. “You’re a veteran employee. You should be setting an example, supporting the company’s decisions. This is just a temporary difficulty. The change in commission structure is mainly for our long-term clients. If you work harder and bring in new clients, the commission rates will be the same as before.” Then he delivered the final blow. “To be frank, you’ve been slacking a bit lately. You haven’t been aggressive enough in developing new business. You can’t just rest on your laurels and live off the company’s existing resources.” Vivian walked in and sat down next to him, rolling her eyes at me. “Exactly. These old clients are company assets. You got a commission when you first signed them; you can’t expect to get paid every time they renew. You’re just a parasite, sucking the company dry and acting like you’re entitled to it.” I looked at Mark. He said nothing, but his expression was one of clear agreement. I’m in sales. Reading people is my specialty. And in that moment, I knew. This was all his idea. Vivian was just his hatchet man. He wanted me gone, and the reason was simple. The company was stable now, with a steady client base. I was no longer the hungry go-getter bringing in new business. In his eyes, my usefulness had expired. It was time to put me out to pasture. My salary was the highest outside of the management team, which made me target number one. But he was being incredibly naive. “Sophie, let’s not use such harsh words,” Mark said, his smile never wavering. “Look, this is the company’s policy now. If you really can’t accept it and choose to resign, there’s nothing I can do. For old times’ sake, I can give you an extra two months’ salary. A personal gesture from me. How does that sound?” Vivian sneered from the side. “Tsk, tsk. Look at you, managing to squeeze even more out of him. The company invests so much in you, and all you think about is money. It’s only because my brother-in-law is so soft-hearted. Any other company would have fired an old leech like you ages ago.” One played good cop, the other bad cop. My heart had already turned to ice. For the past month, coordinating projects and cleaning up after those digital twins, I had been running on less than six hours of sleep a night. Since they were so confident in their AI, fine. Let them try. But as a final courtesy, I offered one last piece of advice. “The work produced by the communication between those AI twins is completely different from what the clients actually want. When two AIs interface directly, the margin of error is huge. You need a human to constantly monitor and adjust.” Vivian burst out laughing. “Sophie, you’re on your way out the door. Why are you still trying to make yourself seem important? So, the high-tech, big-data system we built is useless, but you running to the tech department and causing trouble is useful? The clients haven’t complained. Stop trying to make yourself out to be some kind of hero.” Mark wasn’t listening either. He just waved his hand dismissively. “Alright, Sophie. The company will take your concerns into consideration. Just sign the papers. Finance will process your payment. That’s all. Just make sure you hand over your work properly.” Listen or not, my conscience was clear. I could already picture the clients’ fury when they saw the final product. The Apex Corp. project would have already gone off the rails if I hadn’t been watching it like a hawk. Honestly, I was morbidly curious to see what kind of monstrosity the digital twins would create without my constant intervention. The Apex contract had a specific clause: if the project was not delivered on time due to the contractor’s fault, the penalty would be ten times the contract amount. The contract was for one million dollars. The delivery date was less than half a month away. If they failed, they would be facing a ten-million-dollar penalty. I completed my resignation paperwork. The moment I signed, a look of immense relief washed over Mark’s face. He stood up and clapped me on the shoulder, a little too cheerfully. “Great. No hard feelings. We’ll still be friends. Feel free to stop by anytime.” I forced a smile and said, “Sure.” Knowing Mark and Vivian, I knew my warnings would be completely ignored. After packing up my things, I left the office and bought myself a plane ticket to the Maldives. After years of grinding at CloudForge, I was exhausted. I deserved a real vacation. I spent three glorious days soaking up the sun. Then, Vivian’s call came. She didn’t even say hello, just launched into a tirade. “Sophie! What the hell did you promise Mr. Gunn from Apex? Our tech team has been sending him drafts for days, and he’s rejected every single one!” Her voice was a shrill shriek. “Where are you? Get back here right now! You signed this contract; you need to come back and fix this until he’s satisfied!” I lounged on my beach chair, pushing my sunglasses up onto my head. “Sorry, Vivian. I’ve resigned. I’m on vacation in the Maldives. I don’t think I can make it back.” Her voice was so sharp it could have shattered glass. “Vacation! You haven’t even completed your handover! Who gave you permission to go on vacation? I’m telling you, if this contract defaults because of you, you will be held fully responsible!” So noisy. “I warned you that the project needed human oversight,” I said coldly. “You chose not to listen. That’s on you. I’ve already left. Your little manipulation tactics won’t work on me anymore.” With that, I turned off my phone. I enjoyed three more days of blissful silence. When I finally turned it back on, the phone vibrated so violently it nearly jumped out of my hand. 999+ missed calls. My chat apps had exploded. Most were from Mark and Vivian. There were also a few messages from Emily. [Sophie, Mark and Vivian have been looking for you like crazy.] [Mr. Gunn from Apex came to the office and went ballistic. He said if we can’t deliver something satisfactory, he’s suing us for the ten-million-dollar penalty.] A second later, Mark’s call came through.

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