Category: English

My mother gave all four of our family’s houses to my younger brother, and gave her “love” to me. So, after I started working, I gifted her a $5 necklace, but spent $2,500 on my cat. She called me a heartless, ungrateful daughter. I pointed at the four property deeds and smiled innocently: “Mom, my money might have gone to the cat, but I gave you all my love!” 1 When we were little, if my parents bought a cake, my brother and I each got a slice. If they bought toys, we each got one. They never seemed to play favorites. I always felt incredibly lucky to grow up in a fair household where my parents treated my brother and me equally. But then, my parents bought a new investment property and put it entirely in my brother Mason’s name. He was only in middle school at the time. My mom sat me down and explained: “Harper, society is different for boys. A girl doesn’t necessarily need a house to her name, but a boy needs property to be seen as a good provider and find a wife. “Money is a little tight right now, but if we ever have enough to buy another house, we’ll get one for you too.” I was depressed for days, but eventually, I convinced myself to accept it. It wasn’t that they didn’t love me; they just didn’t have the money. When I went to college, my mom cried to me about how tight their finances were. So, I worked multiple part-time jobs, hustled for academic scholarships, and paid for my own tuition and living expenses to ease their burden. Yet, during those exact same four years, they bought a second and a third investment property—both entirely in Mason’s name. My mom’s excuse evolved: “Society expects so much from men nowadays. The pressure is huge. Having a few extra properties gives him a safety net. As a girl, your life will be much easier.” That was when a phrase I constantly saw online finally clicked in my head: The Golden Child. Before this, I had never associated that term with my own family. I threw her past promises back in her face, trying to prove her hypocrisy: “You explicitly promised that when we had the money, you’d buy one for me. Now Mason has three properties. If you favor him, just admit it!” My mom exploded. “When have we ever mistreated you?! Growing up, did you ever have less food or clothes than your brother? You’re a girl—you always wanted dresses and hair clips! We spent more money on you than him on a daily basis! “If we really favored him, would we have paid for you to finish college? Do you know how many girls out there don’t even get to go to a university? What other parents balance the scales as well as we do?!” Mason immediately chimed in to fan the flames: “Harper, stop upsetting Mom. It’s their money; they can give it to whoever they want. You should know how to be grateful. They raised us, and instead of being a good daughter, you’re already scheming for their assets.” With the two of them tag-teaming me from the moral high ground, I was so suffocated I didn’t know how to respond. We had a massive argument that ended in a stalemate. I looked down at the pure 14k gold necklace in my purse. I had bought it with my very first paycheck after graduation. I had watched my mom stare at it longingly at the jewelry counter months ago, unable to bring herself to buy it. I had planned to surprise her with it today. Now, looking at the situation, there was no need. I stormed out of the house, drove straight back to the mall, and returned the necklace for a full refund. With the $2,500 cash in hand, I walked into a reputable breeder’s shop and bought a purebred Ragdoll kitten. 2 I bought my new kitten premium food, the best litter, and top-tier accessories. When I wasn’t at work, my entire routine revolved around cooking for him and playing with him. I took him to the vet for regular grooming and health checkups. My mom watched me and shook her head in disgust. “You brought a little god into the house to worship. Do you know how much money you’re wasting?!” I held my fluffy, gorgeous baby, raised an eyebrow, and said proudly: “This is my son. Of course I’m going to spoil him.” One day, my mom went out and told me to make lunch for my brother. I told her I was busy. When she came home, Mason was eating microwaved ramen. I, on the other hand, was meticulously preparing gourmet salmon meatballs for my cat. “You call this being busy?!” she shrieked. I kept my head down, carefully dicing the fish. “Everyone loves their own son. If I took care of your son, what if my son went hungry?” She glared at me, her face turning purple, completely speechless. She seemed to forget that Mason is only exactly one year younger than me. He’s a full-grown adult. Why couldn’t he cook his own food? According to my mom, “boys are clumsy” and don’t know how to do chores, so I had to serve him. Based on what logic? 3 For my mom’s birthday, Mason ordered a pair of $15 free-shipping sneakers off a discount website for her. She was overjoyed, boasting about how her son had finally grown up and knew how to take care of his mother. However, when she tried them on, they were a full two sizes too big. She laughed awkwardly. “Boys are just careless, it’s normal that he doesn’t get the sizing right. That’s why they say daughters are a mother’s true comfort.” As she spoke, she glanced at me, gesturing toward my gift. I smiled sweetly and pulled a fake designer necklace out of a beautifully wrapped box. It looked identical to the luxury brand she loved. Except the material was cheap stainless steel. Her face darkened immediately. “You’re giving me this?” I put on a mask of pure sincerity. “Yeah! I got it off an Amazon drop-shipper. It cost me exactly $5, which means it’s worth roughly the same as Mason’s shoes! “Mom, I’ve been thinking about what you said. You said when we were kids, you treated us exactly equally with snacks and toys. So now, the gifts I give you should be exactly equal to what Mason gives you. “Plus, daughters really are more thoughtful. The chain length is adjustable, so there are no sizing issues!” I was grinning from ear to ear, sounding perfectly obedient and innocent. She turned green with rage but couldn’t openly lash out without looking like a hypocrite. “You have a full-time corporate job! How can you compare yourself to your brother? He’s still a student!” She suppressed her fury. “Tell me the truth, how much are you making right now?” I answered honestly: “About $6,000 a month. But I spend almost all of it on my cat. “Mom, I finally understand how hard you had it. Raising a son is so expensive. Last week he wasn’t feeling well, so I took him to the vet for a CT scan and some meds. Over two thousand dollars, gone in the blink of an eye.” I patted my cat’s fluffy tail, playing the part of a sweet, exhausted new mother complaining about her expensive child. “WHAT?!” She jumped off the sofa, her eyes practically bleeding. “Our family is struggling financially, and you’re throwing thousands of dollars away on an animal?! Do you have any idea that your father and I still have a massive mortgage to pay off?!” I was genuinely confused. “Weren’t all three of Mason’s properties bought in cash? Why do you have a massive mortgage?” The moment the words left my mouth, it clicked. They had bought a fourth house. Realizing she had slipped up, she clamped her mouth shut, looking guilty. After a tense silence, she sat back down and tried to spin it: “We were originally planning to put this house in your name. But we thought about it… what if you get married and move away? The house would go to your husband’s family. “So we figured, since you have a great salary now, you could help us pay off the mortgage on this house first. Then, when you’re ready to get married, we’ll buy a new one just for you.” Wow. What a massive, beautifully painted pie. They wanted me to pay off a multi-million-dollar mortgage for a house in my brother’s name, while promising me some imaginary house in the distant future. If that was the case, why wouldn’t I just save my own money and buy my own house? Young people have it rough these days. Bosses manipulate you at work, the media manipulates you online, and when you go home, your own parents try to scam you. Unfortunately for her, trust can only be overdrafted so many times. “So whose name is on the deed for this new house?” I sneered, glancing at Mason, who was glued to his video game. “Let me guess. Your son’s?” She exploded again. “Why do you keep saying ‘my son’?! He’s your own flesh and blood brother! We had him so you wouldn’t be alone in this world, so you’d have family to rely on! When we get old, he’ll be your only blood relative left! If he does well, you’ll have backing when you get married! You are siblings, you should support each other! Why are you drawing lines between yours and his? “If you help pay the mortgage, we’ll even leave a guest room for you when we renovate! I know Mason wouldn’t kick you out if you ever wanted to visit!” I held my cat and lazily stifled a yawn. “So I should spend my entire salary for the next five years just to ‘reserve a guest room’ I might sleep in two days a year? I could stay at a five-star Ritz-Carlton for a fraction of that price. Your house is too expensive for me.” Before she could speak, I continued with a bright smile: “Mom, I actually think what you said before makes perfect sense. I’m a girl, I don’t need to worry about owning property. So I’ll just use my salary to raise my own son.” “Son, son! Are you seriously calling that animal your son?! Giving your own mother a fake necklace for her birthday but spending thousands on a beast every month—do you have any conscience left?!” She had completely lost it, her voice shrill and piercing. Right. I couldn’t bear to spend thousands on a necklace for her, but I gladly spent it on my cat. When things are unfair, the resentment builds. You’re finally tasting what blatant favoritism feels like. I didn’t get angry. I just looked at her innocently. “You love your son, so you gave him four houses. I love my son, so I spend my paycheck on him. Where’s the issue? “Mom, don’t be mad. My money might have gone to the cat, but I gave you all my love!” She roared at the top of her lungs: “GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!” At midnight, I was officially kicked out. 4 I turned right around, checked into the Ritz-Carlton, and spent $500 on a room. The receptionist was incredibly sweet and accommodating, helping me settle my cat in and even sending up a complimentary late-night snack. I took a luxurious bubble bath, eating fresh fruit and sipping champagne. Money really is best spent where it’s appreciated. The next day was a Saturday. I drove around the neighborhood near my office and signed a lease for a beautiful, fully-furnished one-bedroom apartment with a large balcony. Rent was only $1,500 a month. The landlord was thrilled to have me, practically treating me like royalty and even hiring a cleaning service before I moved in. If I had stayed at home and given that $1,500 to my mom for the mortgage, she would have only complained that it wasn’t enough. It’s true what they say. In some places, money buys you great service and emotional peace. In other places, pouring your entire bank account out only buys you endless demands and misery. From that day on, I lived in my own peaceful little two-person world with my cat. Money, peace, and freedom—it was glorious. Half a month later, I got a call. My mom was in the hospital. She had worn the oversized discount shoes Mason bought her to her Zumba class, tripped, and fractured her ankle. She needed surgery and pins, requiring at least two weeks of full-time care. Dad was out of state dealing with a failing business venture and couldn’t come back. Mom was too cheap to hire a private nurse, so she wanted me to go take care of her. But I was currently managing a massive project at work, doing overtime every day. There was absolutely no way I could take fifteen days off. Meanwhile, Mason was on summer break, playing Call of Duty day and night with absolutely nothing to do. When I pointed this out, my mom scoffed: “Mason already made plans to go on a road trip with his frat brothers, he doesn’t have time. Besides, boys don’t know how to take care of people! Daughters are naturally more attentive and caring.” I actually laughed out loud. “Is anyone born knowing how to take care of people? I haven’t even passed my probationary period at work yet. If I ask for 15 days off, my career is over.” Her voice went shrill. “What kind of excuse is that?! Your own mother is in the hospital and you can’t make time? Are you saying your job is more important than me? You work so hard but I haven’t seen a single dime of your money! Why can’t you ever understand your parents’ struggles?!” After venting her rage, she seemed to remember she needed a favor, so her tone softened slightly. “Just talk to your boss. If you have a good relationship with them, they’ll understand a family emergency. Don’t you know how to navigate office politics?” Right. I shouldn’t try to use logic with her. I let out a shaky, miserable sigh, forcing a tone of absolute guilt: “Mom, it’s not that I don’t want to come take care of you. I wish I could fly to your bedside right now! But your precious grandson is sick too. He has feline infectious peritonitis. I can’t leave him! As a fellow mother, the love I have for my son is the exact same as the love you have for Mason. I know you, of all people, will understand.” Before she could explode, I hung up the phone. In the few seconds after the screen went black, I felt the blood in my veins run cold. So this is what it feels like to be completely detached. A moment ago, I had a million logical reasons I wanted to argue, but by the time I opened my mouth, I realized there was no point. I had been at my job for two months. Asking for a half-month leave during a critical project meant my boss would gladly grant me a permanent vacation. She knew my exact situation, but she hadn’t considered my survival for even a second. Explaining myself was useless. It wasn’t that she didn’t know; she just purposefully chose to ignore it. 5 That night, Mason finally found the time to call me, stepping away from whatever loud party he was at. “Harper, you actually left Mom in the hospital all alone? You didn’t even go visit her?! Do you have any conscience at all? You can always find another job, but you only have one mother!” Over the phone, beneath his roaring, I could hear the thumping bass, his friends howling lyrics, and the clinking of glasses. He was having a blast. I had just gotten off work and was grocery shopping. I answered the phone, treating it like a zoo exhibit: “Oh, so I assume you’re doing the 24/7 hospital watch? Wow, you’ve been working so hard, Young Master Mason.” He didn’t feel a shred of guilt. “I’m out of town, I can’t. Besides, isn’t it your responsibility to take care of Mom? Are you really abandoning your parents just because of some houses? How were you raised? Did Mom and Dad not feed you? “Even if you’re busy, couldn’t you hire a nurse for her? You make so much money but you’re too cheap to spend it on your own mother? Children shouldn’t just leech off their parents, they should contribute! Mom and Dad have millions in mortgages and work so hard, while you’re out living your best life. How can you be so selfish?!” He spewed an endless stream of self-righteous garbage. This familiar, preachy rhetoric… when did my little brother sign up for a crash course in patriarchal gaslighting? He sounded like a boomer lecturing a housewife. Since he wanted to play that game, I cleared my throat to lay out the facts. “As far as I know, your first three properties are all rented out. That’s over $10,000 in rental income every month. And none of that money is going toward the mortgage—it’s sitting in your personal bank account for your future wedding. Since you’re so considerate of our parents’ struggles, I’m sure you wouldn’t mind sparing a few bucks for a nurse, right?” You see, they had the rental income to pay off the mortgage, but to protect their precious son’s savings, my parents voluntarily took the debt entirely upon themselves. Parents demand daughters understand their suffering. But some suffering is entirely self-inflicted. Misery flows toward those who enjoy consuming it. If they love eating misery so much, they can have a feast. I wasn’t having a bite. While I was talking, I pushed my cart into the bakery section. The sample lady handed me a piece of pistachio cake. I took a bite. Sweet and delicious. Mason choked on his words, getting even angrier. “You always have to compare yourself to me! I’m the son. Mom and Dad’s retirement is going to rely entirely on me. Of course we’re different. Once you get married, you’ll belong to another family. Why would they give their assets to you? That would just be handing money to outsiders! “We never expected you to do much anyway. In the future, just send them a few thousand a month in allowance and come back to nurse them when they get sick. The actual responsibility of providing for their old age is my job!” He sounded so noble and rational. I actually almost laughed. The sheer, weaponized stupidity of that statement. I was so glad I didn’t have him on speakerphone, otherwise the normal people in the grocery store would realize I was on the phone with a brain-dead moron. It would be too embarrassing. “Hey, are you listening to me? Harper…” I held the phone as far away from my ear as possible, like it was a biohazard. “The wind is too loud! I can’t hear what kind of dog is barking at me!” 6 At 8:00 PM, my mom posted a photo of her in a hospital gown on Facebook with the caption: “Hospitalized alone. Watching the patient next to me surrounded by her loving daughter and family. Must be nice.” Within half an hour, she had a dozen comments asking what happened. Sure enough, I was instantly bombarded by calls from relatives. My aunt charged the front lines, self-righteously seeking justice for her sister: “Harper, throwing a tantrum is one thing, but there’s no such thing as a bad parent. How can you just abandon your mother? Regardless of what your brother does, you need to fulfill your duties as a daughter! “Parents have it hard. You’ll understand when you’re my age. Even if it’s just for half a month, or even a few years, it’s your duty to care for them. Don’t tell me your job is too tiring. You work in an office staring at a computer, how exhausting can it be? You young people have it too easy, you just can’t handle a little hardship.” I nodded vigorously to the empty room, fake-sobbing in absolute agony. “Auntie, you have no idea! My heart is breaking for my mom, but I caught a severe virus, my fever is through the roof, and I literally can’t get out of bed! Mason won’t even let me come home, he said I’m ‘spilled water’ now that I’m an adult! Waaaah~ “Auntie, you’re so right. That’s my mom, your only sister! We absolutely cannot abandon her. So you’ll go take care of her for the next two weeks, right? Cough, cough… I’d offer to pay you, but I know you’d never accept money, because you understand our family’s financial struggles better than anyone… Hello? Hello? Auntie, why did you hang up?” Sigh. These people really can’t handle a taste of their own medicine. I tossed my phone aside, thoroughly entertained, and laid down to play with my cat. Dealing with nosy relatives is simple: match their unhinged energy and flip the script. It’s so easy for them to command others using empty words. But the second it requires their own time or money, they run faster than Olympic sprinters. 7 A month later, my probationary period at work ended. I was officially hired full-time. My salary was bumped by 20%, and I got a generous PTO package. During that entire month, I didn’t go home, and I didn’t visit the hospital. According to Facebook, my mom was discharged weeks ago and was living perfectly fine. My life wasn’t affected in the slightest—if you ignore the fact that she was crying to the neighbors and relatives about what an unfilial monster I was. I guess my reputation as a cold-blooded, ruthless daughter was firmly established. But honestly? These people couldn’t get me a promotion, and they couldn’t bring me any valuable networking resources. Why should I kidnap my own sanity just for their validation? The most important thing in life is to be happy. I opened the curtains of my apartment. The sprawling city skyline and the rising moon filled my view. I seared a steak, popped open a bottle of champagne, and celebrated my promotion on my balcony. The ambient lights flickered. My cat squinted contentedly beside me, purring like a gentle engine. I raised my glass. A toast to myself, standing on my own. Life was good. … The peaceful days rolled on. Half a year later, my dad called me and asked me to come home for the holidays. “It’s almost Thanksgiving. Who doesn’t go home for the holidays? Your mom was just angry back then. Come home.” My mom chimed in from the background: “Harper, a mother and daughter can’t hold a grudge forever! No matter how mad you are, you have to come home for Thanksgiving dinner.” You don’t slap a smiling face. Since they were extending an olive branch, I naturally played along. “Mom, Dad, I missed you guys so much! I’ll bring your furry grandson over to see you right now!” At the dinner table, no one brought up the fact that they kicked me out, and no one mentioned my mysterious disappearance during my mom’s hospitalization. My dad kept putting food on my plate. “Here, eat more lobster. It’s your brother’s favorite. If you don’t eat it now, he’ll devour the whole thing.” Except, I’m allergic to lobster. In fact, looking at the massive feast on the table, not a single dish was something I actually liked. I was incredibly annoyed, but I maintained an elegant smile. “I knew Dad loved me the most.” He was very satisfied with this picture of family harmony. With a little wine in his system, he started making grand speeches. “Don’t worry, Harper. In a few years, when my business takes off, I’ll buy you a luxury penthouse downtown. It’ll be worth more than all four of your brother’s houses combined! “A family needs to stick together. We need to twist ourselves into a single rope. That’s how a family prospers.” I nodded enthusiastically, looking deeply moved. “Yes, yes! Thank you, Dad! And don’t you worry, in a few years when your daughter makes partner at the firm and becomes a millionaire, I’ll buy you a private yacht and take you to Hawaii!” You want to blow hot air? I can blow hot air too. When it comes to painting imaginary pies, the student has surpassed the master. “Why wait for the future? You should be honoring your parents right now! You’ve been working for half a year, how much money have you saved?” Just as my dad and I were riding high on our delusions, my mom had to ruin the mood. “Ugh, how could my meager corporate salary ever compare to my brother’s passive rental income? Right, Mr. Landlord? What are you getting Mom and Dad for the holidays?” I blinked innocently at Mason. My mom looked awkward, probably gearing up for another “boys are just careless” speech. My dad frowned. “Alright, that’s enough. It’s the holidays. We’re the elders, we should be giving gifts to the kids.” And so, on this grand Thanksgiving night, I received a crisp $100 bill from my dad. Hey, considering I spent $80 on a nice bottle of wine to bring over, I was definitely taking it! 8 During the winter holidays, Mason brought his girlfriend home. The family called me back for a get-together. My mom told me to buy her future daughter-in-law a piece of fine jewelry or a jar of La Mer skincare as a welcome gift. I threw my hands up. “I’m broke.” So, my mom marched her into my old bedroom. “Whatever. Your sister has more than one designer bag. Just pick one you like.” Since I moved out early, the bags left in my room were mostly mid-tier ones I bought right after college—Coach, Michael Kors—nothing crazy expensive. The girl’s eyes darted around the room, eventually landing on me. Specifically, on the Louis Vuitton bag I was currently wearing. Mason immediately jumped out to back up his girlfriend. “It’s just a bag, right? If Chloe likes it, give it to her. You came over for dinner empty-handed and we didn’t say anything.” Miss Chloe timidly tugged at his sleeve, her eyes slightly red. “It’s okay, Mason. Maybe your sister just doesn’t see me as family yet. I don’t want to cause trouble.” Uh… What kind of radioactive trash did Mason drag home? Truly, birds of a feather flock together. I smiled brightly, my eyes curving into crescents. “Sorry, honey! Some people have shame, some people don’t. Begging for a Louis Vuitton on your first visit? I don’t think your brand loyalty aligns with your personal values.” With that, I turned on my heel and walked out. Almost getting robbed of a two-thousand-dollar bag just to eat a dry turkey dinner? I couldn’t afford that. … That night, I was scrolling through Reddit when I stumbled upon a post in a relationship advice sub. [Title: First time visiting my boyfriend’s family, and his older sister didn’t give me a gift. What should I do?] The post detailed how rude and ill-mannered this “older sister” was, even mentioning she was so horrible her parents had kicked her out of the house. The avatar of the user matched the WhatsApp profile picture of the girl who had added me earlier that day: Chloe. This girl had clearly forgotten to turn off the “Sync Contacts” feature, so the app recommended her post to me. Finding it highly entertaining, I scrolled through her post history. The post right before this one read: [Title: My boyfriend has three fully paid-off investment properties and one house with a mortgage. If we marry, will I get a share of them?] The top comments bluntly told her: [The mortgaged house means he just wants you to help him pay off his debt. The fully paid-off houses are pre-marital assets—you have zero legal claim to them. If he really loves you, make him legally transfer two of the houses into your name, or force him to sell them and buy a new one together after you’re married.] I was speechless. This girl’s ambition extended far beyond a simple Louis Vuitton bag. Scrolling even further back, I found: [Title: Should I marry an only child or a guy with an older sister? The only child makes $150k but only owns one house. The guy with a sister only makes $40k, but he has four houses in his name, and his sister makes a massive corporate salary. She’ll definitely subsidize our lifestyle in the future. Which one should I pick?] I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She had literally factored my salary into her future net worth. You have to admire the audacity.

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The two boys I grew up with misunderstood me, bullying me relentlessly for the sake of their golden girl. They burned my stomach with a cigarette and crushed my drawing hand. Their voices were ice-cold: “Sydney, this is what you owe Serena.” When the truth finally came to light, they still shielded the real bully behind them: “So what if we hit her? She’s not dead.” It wasn’t until the plot’s influence started wiping my memories of them that they finally regretted it. The two former best friends brawled in the streets over me. They dropped to their knees, begging me not to leave, their voices trembling: “You promised we’d be best friends for the rest of our lives.” 1 When I arrived, Caleb was still shooting hoops. He casually lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his jersey riding up to reveal a lean waist. Asher sat on the bleachers drinking water, an unlit cigarette pinched between his fingers. The indoor court was completely empty. Seeing me, Caleb dribbled the ball, his tone impatient. “Why are you so late?” “The line for the boba place was really long today.” During our afternoon classes, Caleb had suddenly texted me demanding a drink from a specific shop. I knew his volatile temper well, so I skipped class and waited in line for two hours. But I was still late. Out of habit, I started to apologize: “I’m sor—” Thump. The heavy thud of a basketball slamming into my chest cut me off. The sheer force knocked me to the hardwood floor, but my hands instinctively protected the two cups of boba. I didn’t want to go back and wait in that line again. A sharp pain shot up my legs. I winced, letting out a soft hiss. “My bad. Slipped.” Caleb offered a half-hearted, careless apology, then crouched down and pulled out his phone. “How much was it?” Before I could answer, he swiftly transferred the money. The notification for a $5,000 transfer echoed loudly in the dead-silent gym. “It didn’t cost that much.” I frowned, instinctively reaching for my phone to send the excess back. But the moment I pulled it out, Caleb snatched it from my hand. And smashed it violently against the floor. I stared blankly at the shattered screen. I tried to push down the rising fear and ache in my chest, reasoning with myself that $5,000 was enough to buy a new phone anyway. No wonder he sent so much. But a second later— “How could it not cost that much?” Caleb’s lip curled. As he looked at me, he suddenly grabbed me by the throat and slammed me back against the floor. He sneered. “Aren’t you desperate for cash? Didn’t you take three grand to hire Vance’s crew to harass Serena?!” The back of my head struck the hardwood hard. A blinding pain swallowed me whole. The boba tea I had protected spilled everywhere, the hot liquid soaking my clothes. I gritted my teeth against the pain. My first instinct was to explain: “I didn’t!” “Caleb.” A smooth, calm voice drifted over. It was Asher. Caleb was a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest spark, but Asher had always been gentle. He would listen to reason. I looked up at him, pleading for help. But Asher just said: “Hurry it up.” He looked down, shielding his lighter’s flame. “And cover her mouth. Her crying is annoying.” When he glanced at me, his eyes were filled with undisguised disgust. I froze. And then, an uncontrollable, freezing chill seeped into my very bones. 2 A long, long time ago, my relationship with Caleb and Asher wasn’t this toxic. My mother was a maid for Asher’s family, the Montgomerys. I had known them since we were toddlers. You could even say we were childhood sweethearts. Caleb had a vicious temper and threw punches over the slightest insult. Asher seemed warm and gentle, but deep down, he was aloof and incredibly hard to get close to. But they were so good to me. Whenever I got bullied, Caleb was always the first to step up and fight them off. “There are tissues in my bag.” He’d throw punches with one hand while barking orders at Asher without looking back. “Get the scented ones and wipe her tears.” Caleb used to complain that carrying tissues was unmanly. So Asher became the designated comforter, doubling as Caleb’s lookout. I had a sweet tooth, so Asher always kept candy in his pockets. “Guess what flavor I have today?” The beautiful young boy would coax me softly. “If you guess right, you can have three pieces.” But whether I guessed right or wrong, I always ended up eating only one piece. One for me, one for Asher, one for Caleb. Asher always knew I would never hoard them for myself. “Orange again?” Caleb, having chased off the neighborhood kids, would take my backpack, tear open a wrapper, pop the candy into his mouth, and frown. “Can’t you buy a different flavor next time?” “I didn’t buy them for you.” “Whatever. Just get something I like next time.” “Sure. I’ll just take your allowance next month to pay for it.” “Asher, you extortionist!” On the surface, they bickered constantly. Though it was usually just Caleb yelling, while Asher gently but ruthlessly fired back. I’d stand between them, desperately trying to play peacemaker, until Caleb would laugh, carelessly throwing an arm around my shoulders. “Relax, I’d never put our little girl in a tough spot.” Asher would scoff softly, but he never disagreed. Back then, I naively thought the three of us would stay like that forever. Until we turned fourteen. 3 Because my mom worked at the Montgomery estate, I was naturally closer to Asher. It was the day of Asher’s birthday. The three of us had planned to skip school and spend the entire day at the amusement park. But halfway there, Asher realized he forgot something and wanted to run back home. So, we stopped by the Montgomery estate first. And walked right into a sickening scene. Clothes strewn across the floor, a man’s guttural groans, a woman’s soft crying… And at that exact moment, Asher’s mother was lying in a hospital bed, gravely ill. Instinctively, I grabbed Asher’s hand, trying to pull him out of the house. He let me pull him, his face utterly devoid of emotion. But the moment we stepped outside, he stopped and mercilessly ripped his hand from my grasp. He looked at me, a mocking smile on his lips. Asher asked, “Sydney. You recognized her voice, didn’t you?” Caleb stood next to us, completely confused. I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out. “Why are you crying?” I hadn’t even realized tears were blurring my vision. Asher reached out and wiped my tears with the same gentle touch he always used, but his words were made of ice. He said, “If anyone should be crying, shouldn’t it be me?” My mother had always treated Asher like her own. Because his mother was constantly sick, my mom was the one who raised him. Asher knew her voice just as well as I did. So he knew. Being fourteen didn’t mean we were entirely ignorant. It was exactly because he understood that the betrayal cut so deep. The intrusion of an outsider, the shattering of his family. Asher hated my mother, but he hated his father even more. And he began to hate me, too. Caleb sensed the shift in the air. He tried to say something to lighten the mood, but Asher cut him off coldly. “Caleb. This has nothing to do with you.” Even though Caleb argued with Asher all the time, Asher was his anchor. He listened to him more than anyone. So Caleb ultimately stayed quiet, looking at me with a complicated expression. I just kept my head down, avoiding his gaze, my body trembling with cold. None of us ever spoke about what happened that day. Mr. Montgomery was still the warm, polite patriarch. My mom continued to gently care for Asher and me. But Asher started to hate me. Every day, the hatred grew. Yet, he learned to wear a mask. Besides me and Caleb, no one else could see his disgust. Caleb became the guy caught in the middle, torn between his two best friends. Until Asher’s mother passed away. Not long after, my mother became the new Mrs. Montgomery. “Your mother worried about you until her final breath.” Mr. Montgomery patted Asher’s shoulder, sounding heartbroken. “I’m too busy with work to care for you properly, and this house needs a woman’s touch. Asher, you have to believe I loved your mother. But I hope you can understand my difficult position, okay?” My mother stood beside him, clutching his arm, whispering words of comfort. Asher said nothing. He just stayed quiet for a moment, then looked up at Mr. Montgomery and my mom with a smile. A perfectly warm smile. “I understand completely.” Mr. Montgomery looked relieved. My mom, barely able to hide her excitement, told Asher she would treat him like her own flesh and blood. I stood in the distance, watching the absurd theatrical display, feeling physically sick. But Asher acted like everything was perfectly fine. Even though I knew betrayal was the thing he despised most in the world. In that moment, Asher looked like a total stranger. I felt like I had never known him. Yet, I had no right to call him out. He must have noticed me staring. Asher turned his head. The calm smile was still glued to his face. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Wordlessly, he mouthed something to me: Disgusting. 4 Disgusting. Caleb didn’t hold back. The air around me felt so thin I couldn’t breathe. Through my desperate struggling, I faintly heard Asher sigh. Followed by a mocking chuckle. Because of that chuckle, Caleb loosened his grip slightly. I gasped greedily for air, my eyes burning red. Pushing myself up with everything I had, my voice came out a ragged croak: “I didn’t do it.” I knew exactly what they were talking about. Ever since my mom married his dad, I had been permanently exiled from our three-person world. Caleb and Asher grew even closer. Two halves of the same whole. They even fell for the exact same girl. Serena Blair. The wealthy, beautiful heiress of the Blair family. A few days ago, rumor had it Serena was cornered in an alley by a gang of local thugs. When she was rescued, her face was bruised and swollen. Soon after, whispers started circling that I was the one who lured her out. That it was my fault she was ambushed. At first, I didn’t care. But I never expected Caleb and Asher to actually believe it. And I certainly never expected them to “avenge” her like this. I used to think that no matter how much they hated me now, they would at least believe my character when it came to things like this. But Caleb just scoffed. He stood up suddenly, staring down at me like I was garbage. “You’re exactly the same. You haven’t changed a bit.” His tone was lazy. “I really don’t want to dirty my hands with you.” “Use your feet, then.” Asher walked over. He was a germaphobe. He glanced in disgust at the spilled boba on the floor and stopped a few feet away. “You can just throw the shoes away later.” An inexplicable panic seized my chest. I looked at Asher in disbelief. I knew he hated me because of what my mother did. But just a few days ago, this same boy was gently bandaging a scrape on my arm, his demeanor impossibly soft. I naively thought he was softening up. I thought it was the prelude to us fixing things. “Asher, I didn’t do it.” Fighting through the pain, my voice shook. More than Caleb’s fists, I cared about Asher’s judgment. Asher said nothing. He just took a step closer, crouched down, and murmured cryptically, “Your clothes are all ruined.” He reached out and slowly, methodically lifted the hem of my shirt. His freezing fingertips brushed against my stomach, sending violent shudders down my spine. Asher chuckled softly. “I’ve always wanted to say this, Sydney… your waist is so narrow.” The dread pooling in my chest grew thick. I instinctively tried to crawl backward, but Asher pinned me down. “Why are you so disobedient?” The gentle smile never left his face, but without a second of hesitation, he pressed the glowing cherry of his lit cigarette directly into the soft skin of my stomach. His smile turned sadistic. “Even if you didn’t do it, you still made Serena upset.” “I heard you have that art scholarship competition next week?” Caleb stepped forward. He grinned down at me, then slowly, deliberately stepped his heavy sneaker onto my right hand—my drawing hand. And dug his heel in, crushing bone against hardwood. He spoke casually: “Withdraw.” I suddenly remembered: Serena was also competing in that art contest. But for me, winning that scholarship was the only way I could change my fate. So, even as I trembled in blinding agony, I gritted my teeth and refused: “No.” I couldn’t drop out. It was my only way out. I absolutely couldn’t— “We aren’t asking for your opinion.” Asher’s voice was light and airy, sounding just like the times he used to comfort me. And Caleb was even more direct: “Drop out, or I’ll cripple your hand right now.” His expression was colder than I had ever seen it. “Sydney, this is what you owe Serena.” 5 I never owed Serena anything. But no one believed me. Serena moved into the mansion next to the Montgomery estate during the spring semester of our sophomore year. She was like the female lead of a movie—the moment she appeared, she effortlessly commanded Caleb and Asher’s entire attention. Everyone loved her. So, whenever Serena showed even the slightest hint of annoyance toward me, everyone assumed I was the one in the wrong. Even when I had done absolutely nothing. But for some reason, whenever I was near Serena, my emotions would completely spiral out of my control. Until one night, I had a dream. In the dream, I realized the world I lived in was just a novel. Serena was the destined female lead, and I was just a minor, pathetic cannon fodder villain. But Caleb and Asher weren’t the male leads either. In the future, they would turn on each other in a brutal war over Serena, ending with one dead and the other crippled. The dream felt terrifyingly real, and several events that happened soon after proved it wasn’t just a nightmare. So, I arrogantly assumed I was holding the script for a redemption arc. I thought I could save them. I wanted to alter Caleb and Asher’s tragic fates. They were the only light I had in my life, even if that light had faded into darkness. I wanted to try. But my desperate attempts only pushed them further and further away. 6 Caleb didn’t hold back on his stomp. The doctor told me I needed to rest my hand for a long time. Intensive drawing was completely out of the question. But the competition was next week. I sat in the cold hospital corridor all night. When I dragged my exhausted, numb body back to my dorm the next day, I ran into Serena downstairs. Her eyes darted to my bandaged hand. She smiled faintly. “I heard you haven’t found a live model for your entry yet? Need my help?” I stared at her blankly. I actually had found a model a long time ago. It was Asher. When he agreed to sit for me, I had deluded myself into thinking we were finally repairing our bond. I was so happy. But Serena needed Asher for something, so Asher went to her instead. I had gone to Caleb for help, only to be ruthlessly mocked. “I’d advise you not to waste your time.” His arrogant, careless voice still echoed in my ears. “No matter how hard you try, Serena’s taking first place anyway.” —It was as if no matter what I did, Caleb and Asher would blindly, recklessly abandon everything to run to her. For a split second, I wanted to just give up. But Serena wasn’t done with me. She let out an “Ah,” and pulled a very familiar notebook from her designer bag. “This is your diary, isn’t it? The handwriting looks like yours.” Seeing the worn cover, my pupils shrank. Without thinking, I lunged forward to snatch it back. “Give it back!” Serena dodged, pretending to lose her balance, and fell to the ground. I reached for the diary again, but a furious roar exploded behind me. “Sydney!” —It was Caleb. 7 Caleb stormed over and shoved me hard. He carefully helped Serena up, treating her like fragile glass. I instinctively looked away, and unsurprisingly, I saw Asher standing a few feet away. He didn’t even look at me. He walked straight toward Serena. “What are you holding?” His voice was perfectly level. “I found Sydney’s diary in the classroom.” Serena offered Asher a shy, apologetic smile. “I originally wanted to bring it back to her personally, but I didn’t expect her to react so aggressively.” She spoke while stepping toward me. “If I caused a misunderstanding, then I apologize.” “What are you apologizing for?” Caleb snatched the diary from Serena’s hands. I suddenly realized what he was about to do. I tried to rush forward, but Asher blocked my path. He looked down at me, his expression unreadable but his words razor-sharp: “What are you so afraid of?” Only then did I realize I was shaking. Shaking uncontrollably. Caleb flipped through the pages, sneering. “It’s just a diary, why are you overreacting—” He stopped mid-sentence. His body froze. His expression warped into something deeply complicated. The silence stretched until Serena covered her mouth, letting out a small “Ah,” and joked lightly: “Oh my… this looks like a stalker’s diary.” There was nothing illicit or creepy in that notebook. A while ago, my memory had started failing me. It wasn’t sudden. It was like air—invisible, slowly eroding my past. By the time I noticed, I had already forgotten so many details about my life with Caleb and Asher. Like ink on a page being methodically erased. The loss of control terrified me. So I started journaling, desperately writing down every little detail of our childhood before we turned fourteen. I never expected Serena to find it. And I certainly never expected her to expose it to them like this. I avoided Caleb and Asher’s eyes. The sheer humiliation and despair made me shake even harder. My voice broke, sounding pathetic and weak: “…Give it back.” “A stalker diary?” No one paid attention to me. Asher took the notebook from Caleb. His eyes scanned the pages rapidly before he nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “It really does look like one.” The mockery in his tone was completely undisguised. “Give it back.” The burn on my stomach throbbed. The shattered bones in my right hand pulsed so hard my vision blurred. I could only repeat those words like a broken record. “Why should we give it back? This concerns us too.” Asher smiled at me. He still looked as gentle as ever. He tilted his head toward Caleb. “Right, Caleb?” Caleb avoided my gaze. He suddenly started laughing. “Yeah, it’s pretty disgusting.” He nodded, his smile fading into a deadpan glare. “It makes me extremely uncomfortable.” I dug my nails into my palms, finally forcing down the tidal wave of suffocating emotion. “Give it back,” I said, trying to make my voice sound less pathetic. “This has nothing to do with you.” “How could it have nothing to do with us?” The worn, repeatedly read diary looked impossibly fragile in Asher’s hands. He pulled out a silver lighter. His voice was whisper-soft: “Things that make people uncomfortable shouldn’t exist.” Before I could stop him, the flames licked the edges of the pages. I could only watch as the fire consumed my memories, before Asher casually tossed the burning book onto the concrete. Asher seemed curious to see how I would react. But a strange, heavy calmness suddenly washed over me. Much calmer than I thought I’d be. I stood there silently, watching the diary burn to ash, and then scatter in the wind. As if it had never existed at all. Nobody knew that my memories of the past had faded to almost nothing. Only that diary, the one I reread obsessively, could trigger the fading echoes of my childhood. But now, the last remaining tie between me and my past was severed. Completely clean. Including my pathetic delusions of saving them. And in that exact moment, I suddenly heard Serena’s voice. She said: “System, why hasn’t Asher’s capture meter gone up? Has he still not completely given up on Sydney?” 8 Serena’s lips hadn’t moved, but the words echoed in my head as if she were whispering right in my ear. Asher and Caleb were just staring at me. They clearly couldn’t hear the voice. Serena was still conversing with her so-called System. “Is your algorithm broken? Asher and Caleb literally crippled the female lead’s hand for me. How is the capture not successful yet?” “And why is their lingering emotional attachment to her still so high?” “Fine, fine. I’ll just keep working on it. The female lead’s memories of them are almost totally wiped anyway. I’m so close.” Her tone was utterly indifferent, like a player trying to force a puzzle piece into the wrong spot. Whether the puzzle was ruined in the process meant nothing to her. She just needed to complete her objective. I bit my lip so hard the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth, but my mind had never been clearer. Serena was a “Player.” And her capture targets were Asher. And probably Caleb. She called me the “female lead.” That meant those prophetic dreams I had—the ones that made me foolishly try to “redeem” Caleb and Asher—were likely a byproduct of Serena’s presence. Including my current amnesia. I thought I would be furious. But in reality, I just listened to her conversation with the System with absolute, chilling clarity. When Caleb impatiently barked, “Sydney, what kind of crazy act are you pulling now?”, I suddenly looked up. I smiled at Caleb. My tone was lighter than it had been in years. I told them: “I’m sick.” It had been a very long time since I said those words. Caleb froze. Serena, who had been chatting with her System, also stiffened. She rushed to speak first: “If you’re sick, you should go to the hospital. What’s the point of saying it here—” Realizing she sounded too aggressive and broke her gentle facade, she quickly forced an awkward smile and corrected herself: “Are you not feeling well? Do you want me to go to the hospital with you?” I ignored her. I just quietly looked at Caleb and Asher. Refusing to miss a single micro-expression on their faces. Looking at them this closely, I noticed the cracks. Asher maintained his icy facade, but his hands, resting at his sides, instinctively curled into tight fists. Caleb’s emotional control was far worse. He subconsciously took two steps toward me, forced himself to stop, and then deployed his usual mockery: “If you’re sick, go to a doctor. Stop acting like you’re dying in front of us. What’s the point?” “Sydney, don’t tell me you think faking an illness is still going to work on us?” A long time ago, whenever I wanted to skip school or needed a favor from them, pretending to be sick was my go-to strategy. My acting was actually terrible. But back then, they would pretend to believe me, indulging my every whim. “What if it still works?” I didn’t make a hurt, wounded expression like I used to. Instead, I shrugged, flashing them the brightest smile I could muster. My voice was light: “But I’m guessing you don’t believe me anyway.” Asher frowned deeply, sensing something fundamentally wrong. “That diary—” He seemed to realize something, abruptly stopping mid-sentence and staring at the ground by his feet. But the concrete was completely clean. The wind hadn’t even left a smudge of ash. I kept smiling. My voice was incredibly soft: “It’s okay. I’ll forget about you guys soon anyway.”

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After caring for the paralyzed billionaire CEO for two years, he finally recovered. The very first thing he did was propose to his childhood sweetheart—the same woman who abandoned him the moment he was injured. The media called it a fairy tale: “True love stays, until they finally become one.” I tilted my head back, watching the live broadcast of the proposal on the giant Times Square billboard in silence. Then, I tossed the ring in my pocket into the nearest trash can. The debt I owed him was finally paid in full. 1 The busy pedestrians in Times Square all stopped in their tracks, looking up at the live broadcast of the proposal flashing across the giant digital billboards. It wasn’t just here; every major screen in New York City had been switched to the same live feed. The footage was crystal clear in 4K. You could even see the faint, shimmering tears in the heroine’s eyes. One look at the extravagant setup and I knew it was Arthur Sterling’s work. During the final months of his recovery, he had sketched the designs himself. He even personally designed the fireworks display. Back then, he used to hook a cold finger around the back of my neck and ask me what kind of flowers I liked. I told him hyacinths. But the entire proposal venue on the screen was engulfed in a passionate sea of red roses. And the heroine standing there wasn’t me. It was Arthur’s ex-girlfriend, the celebrity fashion designer, Chloe Vance. I tilted my head back calmly. The proposal had reached its climax. Arthur was down on one knee, holding a black velvet box. The diamond inside sparkled like a fallen star. Compared to that, the band in my pocket couldn’t even be called a ring. The girls standing next to me squealed in excitement: “Arthur Sterling, the CEO of Sterling Enterprises! He looks so handsome with his hair slicked back! No wonder they used to call him the ultimate playboy of Manhattan. Looks like the playboy is finally settling down.” “I heard that during the two years Arthur was paralyzed, Chloe turned down all her fashion gigs just to stay and take care of him! What a fairy-tale romance! They’re finally getting married!” I silently massaged my wrist, my fingers grazing the faded, grayish-brown scar left from those two grueling years of caring for him. The Chloe Vance of two years ago didn’t stay. The moment Arthur and I broke up, she flew straight to Milan to advance her fashion career. The crowd around me collectively held their breath as the proposal reached its final moment. Chloe looked down at the young man kneeling before her, her voice choking with emotion as she said, “I will.” The ring was slipped onto her ring finger. Arthur stood up and pulled her into a passionate kiss. At that exact moment, fireworks exploded across the New York skyline. With a spectacle this massive, not just New York, but probably the whole country knew by now. But thinking about it, it was perfectly in character for him. Arthur Sterling never did anything quietly. When he loved someone, he wanted the whole world to know. The crowd erupted in cheers. The girl standing next to me, vibrating with excitement, grabbed my wrist, barely containing her thrill. “They’re so perfect for each other, don’t you think?” I endured the sharp pain in my wrist and smiled faintly. “They are.” She noticed my pale face and, belatedly realizing she was gripping me too hard, let go and started to apologize. But before she could, I had already turned and walked away into the bustling crowd. Behind me, the protagonists on the giant screen were lost in a deep kiss. The crowd screamed and cheered for their epic romance, and the fireworks painted the sky in brilliant, chaotic colors. Suddenly, I stopped next to a trash can. I crouched down, took a deep breath to compose myself, and then stood back up. I pulled the dull, tarnished ring from my pocket. It was ugly, and the band was far too wide for my finger. But thankfully, there was no longer any need for me to keep it. I tossed the ring into the trash. My heart had never felt this calm. I didn’t shed a single tear. From this moment on. Whatever I owed the Sterling family, whatever I owed Arthur Sterling… I had paid it back in full. 2 I was kicked out of Sterling Enterprises. I used to have a private executive office, but today, I didn’t even get a cubicle. A woman from HR shoved a cardboard box into my arms. “Assistant Hayes, your things are in here.” I had a good relationship with the staff, so she lowered her voice sympathetically. “Mr. Sterling personally ordered your termination. But your severance package is generous. You should leave while you can.” Her tone was actually polite. I could guess Arthur’s exact words: Tell her to get the hell out. I could picture him leaning back in his leather chair, a lazy, indifferent look in his eyes, completely dismissing my existence. Struggling under the weight of the heavy box, I walked past my old office. I finally saw who its new owner was. It had already been converted into Chloe’s private lounge, her fashion sketches scattered carelessly across the desks. Intimate photos of her and Arthur plastered the walls, completely covering the space where my dense, meticulously planned itinerary boards used to hang. I lowered my eyes, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the edges of the box. But the tension released just as quickly. Whatever. 3 In the crowded lobby of the corporate headquarters, I was shoved and fell to the floor. The cardboard box tumbled, scattering my belongings everywhere. There were too many people swarming the entrance. Someone’s sharp stiletto heel stepped hard onto the back of my hand, sending a piercing, agonizing pain shooting up my arm. The swarm of journalists and bystanders were all surging in one direction. Fighting through the pain, I looked up just in time to see Chloe appear, arm-in-arm with a man. She loved the color red. Her sleek, crimson slip dress was eye-catching, but the man beside her was even more radiant. Arthur hated crowds, and he looked visibly annoyed, turning his head slightly away from the flashes, yet he still meticulously shielded Chloe in his arms. The reporters blocked their path, thrusting microphones forward, firing questions one after another: “Chloe! The hashtag #ProposalOfTheCentury has been trending number one on X for a whole week! As the leading lady, do you have anything to say?” Chloe smiled radiantly. “I’m just incredibly grateful. During the darkest two years of his life, the person by his side… was always me.” Arthur Sterling. The golden boy of New York. He had sailed through life, standing at the absolute peak of society. The only time he ever fell was during the two years he was paralyzed after a horrific car crash. When the walls crumbled, everyone he knew abandoned him, leaving him to taste the bitter cruelty of the world. Anyone had the right to say those words—except Chloe. Back then, she had immediately booked a flight out of the country. I was the only one left by his side. It was such a blatant lie. But Arthur looked genuinely happy hearing it. He didn’t correct her. In fact, he indulged the lie completely. Arthur looked down, gazing at Chloe with profound tenderness. It was as if a raging wildfire had finally met a calming river and settled. Camera shutters clicked frantically. The paparazzi eagerly captured the deep, affectionate gaze exchanged between the two. Suddenly, Arthur turned his head. His gaze cut straight through the crowd and locked directly onto my eyes. His look was incredibly cold. I looked back at him quietly, offering a faint, shallow smile. My heart felt incredibly light. He instinctively furrowed his brows in displeasure. Actually, I was also incredibly grateful. During the darkest two years of his life, I was the one who stayed by his side. The life debt I owed him had been repaid in full. 4 The Uber I called was taking forever. Between the low blood sugar and the sharp pain in my stomach, I couldn’t stand it anymore and crouched down by the curb, clutching my stomach. The hand that had been stepped on was already swollen, bruised, and bleeding. It hurt terribly. Chloe really was special to Arthur. I had known Arthur for a very long time. He had been the crown prince of the Sterling family since he was born. Growing up, he had endless rumors and flings, but the only girlfriend he ever publicly acknowledged was Chloe Vance. It made perfect sense that they would reunite. It was a classic romance trope. A sudden honk startled me. I looked up to see a sleek black Maybach pulling up right in front of me. The tinted window slowly rolled down, revealing Arthur’s lazy, handsome face. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel. “Stomach acting up again?” My eyelashes fluttered slightly. He let out a scoff, his eyes filled with mocking disgust. “Serves you right.” I lowered my eyes. It felt like we had rewound time by two years. This was exactly how Arthur treated me back then. He was always this vicious to me. He used to say that the fact someone like me was even allowed to breathe the same air as him was a charity. Only now did I finally realize that all the tenderness he showed me later was an act. He was just terrified that if I left, no one would be left to take care of him while he was paralyzed. I decided to just ignore him. The click-clack of heels approached from behind. Chloe walked past me, opened the passenger door, and whined playfully, “Arthur, I’m so sorry I’m late! Those reporters were so annoying. I should have let you go first, you’re so much better at handling them.” As she buckled her seatbelt, Chloe turned her head and saw me. Her voice caught in her throat, and her face paled slightly. She hurriedly urged, “Arthur, let’s go! We’re gonna be late for our dinner reservation!” Arthur frowned, clearly annoyed by the rush. Fighting the pain in my stomach, I looked up at Arthur, figuring this would be the last time I ever spoke to him. “I watched the livestream of your proposal. The venue looked even more beautiful than the sketches you drew.” Except that it was filled with roses instead of hyacinths, everything was perfect. I thought for a moment and added, “I wish you both… a lifetime of happiness.” Arthur stopped smiling. The hand resting on the car window suddenly clenched into a fist, his knuckles turning stark white, as if what he just heard wasn’t a blessing at all. On that hand rested a gleaming engagement ring. I lowered my eyes, dodging the intense, unreadable look Arthur was giving me. Chloe went quiet for a second before saying softly, “Arthur, we’re running late. Let’s not waste time on irrelevant people.” A very faint voice drifted down from above me. Arthur said, “Mia. Don’t regret this.” He waited for a moment. When I didn’t respond, he scoffed, restarted the engine, and slammed on the gas, speeding off. I looked up in a daze, only catching the taillights of the black Maybach disappearing into the distance. He drove aggressively, exactly like the way he used to street-race sports cars years ago. Even if it was a blessing, as long as it came from my mouth, Arthur would find a way to get irrationally angry. He was psycho. But I didn’t regret a thing. 5 I waited so long for the Uber that I was starting to give up, when my phone suddenly buzzed. A notification popped up, concise and to the point: “Where are you?” I hesitated for a second before dropping a pin with my location. Half an hour later, I was sitting in the back of a luxury SUV, extending my hand stiffly. The young man sitting across from me lowered his eyes, carefully cleaning and bandaging the wound on the back of my hand. Julian lifted his gaze. “Does it hurt?” Every time he moved, my body tensed up nervously, but I shook my head. Julian lowered his head again and gently blew on my hand. The cool breath made my fingers curl inward. I widened my eyes and repeated, “I said it doesn’t hurt.” Only then did Julian release my hand, speaking in a slow, deliberate drawl, “Didn’t hear you.” Right now, I felt like a rogue knight who had defected to the enemy’s camp. As Arthur’s former executive assistant and loyal shadow, I knew that nine out of ten times Arthur got into a fight, it was with Julian Reed. From their prep school days all the way to corporate boardrooms, the two had always been mortal enemies. Especially during the two years Arthur was paralyzed, Julian had aggressively acquired almost all of his key assets. Even though I had absolutely nothing to do with Arthur anymore, old habits die hard. Being around his rival still felt deeply unnatural. Julian leaned back lazily. “There’s a gala tonight. I need a plus-one.” I looked down at my freshly bandaged hand. “Is Arthur going to be there?” Julian hummed in confirmation. I stopped looking at him, and after a long silence, I finally spoke: “If you’re trying to use me to piss off Arthur, you’re going to be disappointed. He doesn’t care about me at all.” My voice was soft, quietly stating a simple fact. Julian was spinning a silver Zippo lighter in his hand. The brief flash of the flame illuminated his sharp knuckles. He said, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” I turned my head to look at the city streets blurring past the window and let out a small laugh. I thought about the Arthur Sterling I knew when I was seventeen. In front of all his rich, elite friends, he had laughed—a wild, contemptuous, arrogant laugh. He had said: “Mia Hayes?” “There is absolutely no fucking way I would ever like Mia Hayes.” 6 When I was brought to the high-end boutique to get fitted for a gown, Julian stayed the entire time. He had incredibly high standards. I tried on over a dozen luxury gowns, and he rejected every single one. Honestly, I didn’t want to go to this gala, but Julian insisted, and I had no choice. Half a month ago, when I left the Sterling estate, I wasn’t allowed to take a single thing with me. It was Julian’s grandmother who temporarily took me in. So, whatever Julian wanted me to do, I would do my best to accommodate him. When I finally tried on a silver-white gown, the skirt shimmering like the Milky Way, Julian’s gaze finally stopped. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “That one.” I looked at the mirror beside me and froze. The woman in the mirror was unfamiliar yet familiar, so breathtakingly beautiful it made me dizzy. It was as if the quiet, plain girl who had spent years blending into the background behind Arthur Sterling had suddenly stepped into the blinding spotlight. I had never seen myself look like this before. I reached out, timidly touching the cold glass of the mirror. Julian stood behind me, a diamond necklace slipping through his fingers. He leaned in slightly to clasp it around my neck. His breath was burning hot against my skin as he drawled lazily: “Mia. I’m not making you wear this to piss them off.” “I just want Arthur Sterling to realize that he wasn’t just paralyzed. He’s also fucking blind.”

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When my billionaire parents chose the fake heiress once again and refused to visit me in the hospital, I finally gave up. “System,” I whispered, “let the cancer cells spread. I’m ready to leave this body.” As my soul drifted away, I heard them talking. “If Serena hadn’t warned us, I wouldn’t have known our biological daughter was faking an illness just for attention! How low can she get?” “Let’s not contact her for a few months. She needs to learn her lesson. Maybe then she’ll finally start behaving.” Behaving? Too bad I’m already dead. 1 The hospital walls were too white. So white they made my eyes ache. I sat by the window where a sliver of sunlight managed to peek through, yet I couldn’t shake the freezing chill that wrapped around my bones. “Miss Sterling, please lie down. It’s time for your IV.” My private nurse pushed the door open, her voice soft and careful. It was strange. I was the biological daughter of the richest man in the city. I was in a premier VIP suite. So why was there such deep pity in her eyes when she looked at me? “Nurse Thompson, did you tell my parents the biopsy results?” Her hand faltered for a second, nearly missing the vein. She offered me a weak, forced smile. “Don’t worry. Even though the tumor is malignant, we caught it early. With surgery and two rounds of chemo, you’ll recover.” “Don’t be afraid.” I nodded, then repeated my question, more urgent this time. “But… did you notify my parents?” Nurse Thompson opened her mouth, then closed it, looking like the words were stuck in her throat. I understood. There was no way she hadn’t told them. It was just that they chose not to come. Before leaving, she tried to cheer me up. “Don’t lose heart. The cancer hasn’t metastasized yet. Your condition is very treatable.” I forced a smile but said nothing. The cancer hadn’t spread yet, but when I transmigrated into this body, I came with a “System” mission. If I couldn’t win over my parents’ love, my only ending was death. I leaned greedily toward the patch of sunlight. This cancer was the System’s countdown timer. If things continued like this—I was truly running out of time. 2 The original owner of this body was the true heiress of the Sterling family. She had been switched at birth due to a hospital error and grew up in a middle-class family. It wasn’t until she turned 18, just a year ago, that she was finally found. At first, I thought this System mission would be easy. What parents wouldn’t love their own child? But after coming home, I realized how cruel reality could be. There was another “Miss Sterling” in the house, born on the exact same day as me. The fake heiress: Serena. Initially, my parents were wonderful. They cried while holding me, calling me their “precious girl” in every breath. Within three months, I had successfully won them over. I was the apple of their eye. I even charmed the grandparents and extended family. Of course, I also managed to dodge Serena’s constant, petty traps. Until one day, she pulled me close with a sisterly grin to show me around. “Maya, look. This is Dad’s private wine cellar.” “Every bottle here is priceless. You have to be extremely careful.” I never touched that room. But a month later, my parents went to Serena’s parent-teacher conference. When they returned, Serena looked at me, smiled, and threw herself into the custom wine rack. The entire unit toppled. With a deafening crash, it shattered at my feet. Glass shards pierced my soles, drawing blood. The wine soaked my clothes, stinging my open wounds with a blinding pain. But a second later, Serena was the one screaming. “Dad! Mom!” “Serena! What happened?” My parents, arriving a few steps late, were stunned by the wreckage. I stood in the middle of the glass, frozen. Serena pointed at me, sobbing. “Maya was jealous because you went to my conference today.” “She pushed me. I hit the rack, and it just… it all fell…” I found out later that the wine on that wall was worth as much as a luxury villa. 3 That was the fifth month after I returned home. My father slapped me, hard. He did it because Serena had dropped to her knees in the middle of the wreckage right in front of them. She looked up with tear-filled eyes. “Maya, Mom and Dad still love you most. They just went to my school for an hour.” “I don’t want to fight with you. If you hate what happened in the past, hate me, but please don’t blame Mom and Dad. We’re all victims here.” “If you really can’t stand me, I’ll leave!” I watched her one-woman show in shock. Before I could even open my mouth to defend myself, the slap landed. Then came my father’s roar. “Maya! Is this how your foster parents raised you?” “You act so sweet to Serena in front of us, but you’re a monster behind our backs. You’ve deeply disappointed me.” I tried to explain, but no one listened. Because Serena’s knees were shredded by the glass. My father scooped her up and rushed her to the hospital. I was left to limp out of the glass in my slippers, one agonizing step at a time. I treated my own wounds in my room, gritting my teeth against the pain. When Serena returned, both her knees were wrapped in thick bandages. My parents flanked her, supporting her every move while treating me with nothing but cold glares. “Maya, go to your room and reflect on what you’ve done.” “Serena might not be our biological daughter, but we raised her for 18 years. Do you think that bond just disappears?” “Don’t think we don’t love you. It’s because we love you that we can’t let you become this twisted! We have to correct you!” I tried to speak, but the pain in my feet made me gasp for air. “Maya, stop the act.” “You were wearing slippers earlier. We both saw it.” I knew words were useless, so I retreated to my bedroom. But because of the pain, I couldn’t help but limp. In their eyes, even my pain was just another act of defiance. 4 Serena was willing to hurt herself just to turn them against me. Gradually, in their eyes, I became a person who would do anything to get what I wanted. The three of them were always together, leaving me alone at home. Their excuse? “It’s to build your character and teach you tolerance.” That was when the System’s punishments began. The data showed that my parents’ hearts were tilting further and further toward Serena. Desperate to save my failing health, I tried to fight back once. I got into a physical altercation with a girl at school who was insulting me. We both ended up bruised; I had a split lip. My parents rushed to the school. That was one of the few times I felt their love. “Maya, what happened? Does it hurt?” “Sweetie, she’s so much bigger than you. Why would you fight her?” My mother stroked my hair, her eyes full of heartbreak. My father stood in front of me, berating the principal for the lack of supervision. “Mom, I’m okay.” With red eyes, I let her pull me into her arms. See? They still love me. But then, Serena arrived. In front of everyone, she looked at me with a look of pure, feigned disbelief. “Maya… did you lie and pick a fight just to get Mom and Dad’s attention?” With just one sentence, their faces changed. They didn’t defend me anymore. They just turned and walked away. I touched my stinging lip. It was the other girl who had started it, calling me the “unwanted daughter.” To prove my innocence, I convinced the girl I fought to testify for me. I even asked my teacher to come home with us. “Mr. Sterling, we cleared it up. It really wasn’t Maya’s fault.” But my parents only looked at me with utter exhaustion. “Maya Sterling, have you really stooped to this level just to maintain a lie?” Their tone was ice-cold. In my mind, the System’s alarm bells began to shriek. 5 From that point on, my health plummeted. But I stopped fighting. No matter how badly I was hurt, Serena could erase it all with a single, casual comment, and I would end up as the villain again. I lay in bed and whispered to the System. “System, when can I go back to my own world?” The System’s voice was low, sounding almost empathetic to my struggle. “Finish the mission, or die.” I was silent for a long time. I had thought about it… If I die, I die. But I really wanted to go home. Lately, afraid I would “hurt” their precious foster daughter, my parents kept me on house arrest. At first, they visited me every day. But the look in their eyes was always a mess of complicated emotions, always ending with the same question: “Maya, do you admit you were wrong?” I shook my head stubbornly. Wrong about what? After asking enough times, they lost their patience. When I finally collapsed at home and was rushed to the hospital, they were away on vacation. They didn’t even bother to check on me. Instead, they sent a text: “Maya, come home when you’re ready to admit your mistakes.” “We won’t enable this behavior anymore.” I laughed. From start to finish, what was my crime? Oh, I knew. My crime was that I wasn’t good enough to earn their favoritism. Did they love me? I guess the only way to find out was to die. 6 I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. The nurse told me not to lose hope; early-stage stomach cancer was very treatable. But I just stared at the ceiling, watching my life’s countdown. I lived alone in that massive VIP suite. It was so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. My only companion was the System I had grown to both love and hate. “Maya, do you think they’re really not coming?” I leaned against the headboard, my eyes vacant. “Probably.” “They don’t even believe I’m sick. They wouldn’t even believe the doctor.” The System sighed. I just smiled. Good. It’s better to give up early. After a moment of silence, the System tried one last time. “Call them.” “Otherwise, even if you have the surgery, the cancer will metastasize rapidly.” I bit my lip and dialed the number. But—Serena was the one who picked up. Compared to my hollow, weak voice, she sounded incredibly vibrant. “Maya? What is it?” “Are you looking for Dad? Hang on, he’s out surfing.” The System: “What? His daughter is dying and he’s surfing?” “That’s impossible.” I listened silently to the sound of the waves on the other end. Daughter? In their hearts, they only ever had one daughter: Serena. 7 I waited ten full minutes before my father finally got on the line. But before I could even say “Dad,” his stern voice boomed through the speaker. “Maya, have you finally realized you were wrong?” I let out a bitter, silent laugh. I guess the “jealous brat” label would only be washed away once I was in the ground. “Maya, enough of the drama. Admit you were wrong and come home.” “You’re going too far now, actually making the hospital staff call your mother. Do you have any idea how close she came to a panic attack? If Serena hadn’t seen through your little game, we would have been worried sick!” I opened my mouth, but the words were choked in my throat. Seeing my silence, his tone softened slightly. “Maya, as long as you come home and apologize, you’re still our daughter.” Our daughter… I whispered, “Dad, what if I’m actually sick?” There was a long pause on the other end. Then I heard Serena’s voice in the background: “Sigh. Dad, Maya just won’t change, will she?” “EXACTLY!” My father’s rage exploded. “Maya Sterling! Who taught you to be such a pathological liar?!” The line went dead. This time, even the System was silent. The sun moved to the west, and the light vanished from my room. Why? Was the love and guilt they showed me six months ago all an act? Maybe because I was too quiet, the System whispered a warning: “A negative mood isn’t conducive to recovery.” I grinned. Recovery? What was left to recover? “Just go home and apologize. Keep your head down for now. You have to survive to win.” And then what? Continue to play games with Serena? Apologize for things I didn’t do? Listen to their “lessons” for the rest of my life? I’d rather die. I lay back on the bed, a single thought flashing through my mind. “System, let the cancer spread.” “I forfeit the mission.” The System became deathly serious. “Are you sure?” “If you forfeit, you will be forced to remain in this world as a ghost for ten years as a penalty.” I agreed. I really wanted to see how they would react once I was gone. 8 With the System’s power, the cancer cells flooded every organ in my body overnight. When I woke up the next morning, I was so weak I couldn’t even lift my hand. “Maya, it’s not too late to regret this.” I closed my eyes. A silent refusal. When Nurse Thompson came for her rounds, she was so shocked she dropped the IV bag. “Doctor! Code blue!” She ran out, followed by a chaotic blur of footsteps. A team of doctors swarmed the room, checking my vitals. I was hooked up to a dozen different tubes. “How? Yesterday there was no metastasis. How could this happen in a single night?” Nurse Thompson gripped my hand, her eyes blood-red. Honestly, I didn’t understand why she was so good to me. As a stranger, she had given me far more than my own parents ever had. The doctor shone a light into my pupils. “The will to live is non-existent.” “Notify the family immediately.” I struggled to open my eyes and saw Nurse Thompson pull the doctor aside. Even though my consciousness was fading, I could still hear them. “Dr. Young, the family refused to come…” “Refused?!” The doctor’s voice rose, then dropped into a low, urgent tone. “Give me their number.” “The patient could go at any second. They must be informed.” I fought to stay awake. Maybe… just maybe I could last until they arrived. I wanted to see their faces when they saw me. Regret? Or total indifference? 9 I waited and waited, slipping in and out of consciousness. In my dreams, I could hear the frantic voices of doctors and nurses. When I finally opened my eyes, the first thing I did was look at the chair beside my bed. It was empty. “How many days?” In this vast world, only the System remained by my side. “Three days.” A single tear rolled down my cheek. Three days, and they still hadn’t come. I tried to wipe the tear, but I couldn’t move my arm. I think I’m done. The monitors beside the bed began a sharp, rhythmic beeping. The hospital’s final alarm. I saw a group of doctors rush in to start resuscitation. I watched them frantically compress my chest. They were still trying to save me. But it was too late. I felt myself float upward. With the final long beep, I was completely detached from my body. Two minutes later, the lead doctor looked defeated. “Patient: Maya Sterling. Time of death: April 28, 2023, at 9:03 AM.” I saw Nurse Thompson turn away to wipe her eyes. The System teased me: “See? You weren’t a total failure.” “At least someone cried for you.” I felt a pang of sadness. I tried to wipe her tears, but my hand was only a breeze that ruffled her hair. 10 By the time I found my parents, they were just returning from their vacation. I could feel it; even the System was in a foul mood. “Maya, I’m sorry.” I sat casually on the steps of the Sterling mansion, dusting off my invisible skirt. “This family is trash.” “I’m sorry I threw you into this pit.” I just smiled and said nothing. I had cursed this System a thousand times in my head before. But I realized we were bound together. Over time, she had developed something resembling human emotion. In the living room, Serena was showing off her new designer dresses. My parents sat patiently, watching her model the last one, their eyes full of warmth and smiles. Until—the hospital called again. “Hello? When is this going to end?” “How much did Maya pay you? I’ll double it. You’re doctors, for God’s sake. How can you lie like this?!” I couldn’t hear the doctor’s side, but my father started laughing. “You really don’t even have a script for these lies anymore, do you?” “Tell Maya: if she isn’t home in three days, she’s never allowed back…” The line clicked. My father was fuming. “He hung up on me!” “What did they say? What is Maya up to now?” My father slammed his phone onto the table. “Her lies are getting more and more unhinged. She just had someone call me and say she died of cancer.” My mother’s brow furrowed. “Maya… it has been a few days since we heard from her.” “I’ll give her a call.” But as my mother reached for her phone, Serena cut in. “But didn’t Maya call a couple of days ago and say it was early stage?” “How could it suddenly…” The couple exchanged a look, and a wave of shared annoyance crossed their faces. “Serena is right.” “What kind of cancer spreads that fast?” “If Serena hadn’t warned us, I wouldn’t have known our biological daughter was faking an illness just for attention! How low can she get?” “Let’s not contact her for a few months. She needs to learn her lesson. Maybe then she’ll finally start behaving.” Behaving? But I’m already dead. Serena hid a smirk, then reached out to tug on my mother’s arm. “Mom, Maya just wants your attention.” “Maybe you should call her anyway.” My father slammed the table. “NO CALLS!” I sat on the steps, propping my chin on my hands and sighing. If they wait any longer, there won’t even be a body to find.

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The college admissions scores had just been released. The girl I had been financially sponsoring for the past four years sent me a text. She scored a 900 on her SATs—somehow even lower than her score last year. She texted me: Chloe, I don’t want to do another year of prep classes, and I really don’t want to go to a community college. A classmate told me I could study abroad at a private university, but the tuition and fees are going to be around $50,000. Chloe, I truly want to pursue my education. Can you please keep sponsoring me? 1 Sitting across from me, my best friend Sarah noticed me frowning as I set my phone face-down on the table. She looked at me, surprised. “What’s wrong? You look like you just swallowed a lemon.” I slid my phone across the table so she could read the text. “Where on earth did you find this entitled parasite? Fifty grand? The sheer audacity she has to even ask,” Sarah said, her eyes wide with disbelief. “So, what are you going to do?” “Tell her I’m pulling the plug on her sponsorship. I’m just trying to figure out how to word it.” Before I could even finish my sentence, another text chimed in. Chloe, I really need this educational opportunity. I know my test scores aren’t high. But Chloe, you know my family’s financial situation… I hope you can help me achieve my dreams. I will remember you forever. Thank you. Reading that little sob story didn’t change my mind. If anything, it made me realize that sponsoring her for the last four years had been a massive mistake. Suppressing my irritation, I typed out a reply. Mia, hi. I’m sorry to hear your scores weren’t what you hoped for. When we spoke last year, I made it very clear that this was your last chance. My condition for continuing the sponsorship was that you get accepted into a four-year state college. As for your plan to study abroad, I am not wealthy enough to afford a $50,000 tuition bill, so my hands are tied. Given the current circumstances, I am terminating my sponsorship. Moving forward, you’ll have to rely on yourself. Hitting send felt like a massive weight lifting off my chest. Sarah read the text over my shoulder and sighed. “You should have bluntly rejected her like this ages ago. Instead, you dragged it out for an extra year.” The screen showed Mia was typing, but no message ever came through. I assumed the matter was finally settled. 2 When I opened my front door and saw Mia and her mother standing in my hallway, I was genuinely shocked. Mrs. Gallagher was holding an assortment of cheap gift bags. Mia was looking down, tapping away on her phone. The moment she saw me, she shoved her phone in her pocket, practically lunged at me, and locked her arms around mine. “Chloe! I finally get to see you! I’ve been wanting to visit you forever, but school has been so busy I never had the chance.” “This girl has been talking my ear off about coming to see you, saying she needed to thank you for all your help over the years,” Mrs. Gallagher quickly chimed in. I glanced at the bags cluttering my hallway and said flatly, “Let’s go inside first.” They hadn’t even been sitting on my couch for five minutes before Mrs. Gallagher revealed their true motive. “We know the girl didn’t test well this year, and she felt too guilty to face you. But you know how it is—a girl without a real degree these days is going to struggle. Her dad is disabled, and I have to support both her and her little brother on my own. We simply don’t have the money to send her abroad. You’re the only person we could turn to.” I poured them two glasses of water and sat back. “Universities abroad still have academic standards. With her grades, even if she goes overseas, she won’t get into a reputable school. Finding a good job when she comes back will be just as difficult.” “I already asked around! It only takes $50,000 to get the degree, and when she comes back, they guarantee job placement with a starting salary of $80,000 a year!” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mrs. Gallagher, things like that don’t exist. Whoever told you that is running a scam.” Mrs. Gallagher’s face immediately hardened. “I may not have a college degree, but I’m not an idiot.” “Chloe, you have to believe us. It’s real,” Mia insisted. “My boyfriend—well, a guy in my class—is going too. If we apply together, they even give us a discount.” I shook my head. “That makes it sound even more like a scam.” “It’s real! Look, I’ll show you the texts.” Mia shoved her phone in my face. The chat was open to a contact saved as “Baby Bear.” She glanced at me, and seeing I wasn’t reacting, quickly backed out to pull up the contact for the “agent” she had mentioned. The agent’s pitch was flawless. They claimed to represent globally recognized universities—top-tier schools across Europe and Australia, take your pick. They didn’t care about your GPA; as long as you paid the fee, they would ensure you passed the interview and got your visa. If you chose to return to the States after graduation, they guaranteed an $80,000/year corporate job. Hell, if it were real, I’d want to sign up. I had been busting my back in the corporate world for two years and barely cleared $5,000 a month. “This is an obvious fraud,” I said firmly. “Studying abroad doesn’t work on a ‘flat-rate package’ deal, and costs vary wildly depending on the country. If it were this easy, why would anyone even bother taking the SATs? We’d all just pay a fee, go abroad, and come back to guaranteed $80K salaries.” “That’s just because other people don’t have the right connections! This isn’t an opportunity just anyone can get.” Mrs. Gallagher leaned in close, lowering her voice like we were discussing state secrets. “These spots are strictly allocated. Mia is just incredibly lucky to have access to one.” I looked at Mia, who was staring at her phone with a dopey, lovesick smile. I sighed inwardly. “Mia, how exactly did you get this ‘spot’?” Hearing her name, Mia quickly locked her screen and turned to me. “My boyfriend pulled some strings through his relatives. His uncle is a massive real estate developer in New York with huge connections. That’s how we got the VIP allocation.” Her face was plastered with a smile so smitten it looked glued on. A rich developer uncle? Massive connections? I instantly knew exactly what was going on. “Mrs. Gallagher, I’m telling you, you’ve met a con artist. He’s just trying to drain your bank accounts.” “Impossible. Why would he be a scammer?” Mrs. Gallagher waved me off, utterly dismissive. Since the mother was a brick wall, I pivoted to the daughter. “Mia, listen to me. Nothing your boyfriend is telling you is true.” She blinked, totally failing to process my bluntness. “I don’t know how long you’ve been dating this guy, but everything he’s pitching is a lie. I highly suspect he’s trying to scam you out of your money. I strongly suggest you call the police.” Mia’s eyes went wide, acting as if I had just uttered absolute heresy. “Call the police? For what?!” Mrs. Gallagher erupted. “You just don’t want to pay up! You only agreed to sponsor us in the first place to look like a saint on social media! Now that Mia found a boyfriend with real money and power, you’re jealous!” “Yeah, Chloe! How could you be so mean?” Mia chimed in, tears brimming in her eyes as if I were a heartless monster. “Just because I accepted your financial help doesn’t mean I lose the right to fall in love!” “Trey said that when they get back from Europe, he’s going to build her brother a massive three-story house back in our hometown! He’s not a scammer! You just can’t stand seeing us do well. Honestly, if we knew you were going to be this stingy, we would have found a different sponsor. We wouldn’t have to sit here begging you while you act superior. We’d already have the money wired!” Mrs. Gallagher ranted. Seeing my face turn to ice, Mia tugged her mother’s sleeve. “Mom, stop.” “Why should I stop? She should have sponsored you and your brother from the start! Instead, she decided to split her money and sponsor two different families to double her clout. If she had just given us all the money, I wouldn’t have to work so hard!” Hearing that, any remaining shred of politeness I had vanished. I stood up and pointed to the door. “I don’t have the money to fund your delusion. If you want to study abroad, figure it out yourselves. It’s late, and I have work tomorrow. Please leave.” Mia’s face went pale. “Chloe, it’s so late. We don’t know anyone in this city. You’re really not going to let us stay the night?” “There’s a hotel right down the street.” “You gave us a little bit of charity and think you’re royalty?! Fine! I refuse to believe we’ll sleep on the street!” Mrs. Gallagher grabbed Mia with one hand, snatched her cheap gift bags with the other, and stormed out, slamming my door so hard the walls shook. The mother-daughter duo successfully completely cured my burnout from work. Turns out, there really are things in this world far more nauseating than a 9-to-5 job. 3 I thought ambushing me at my apartment was the lowest they could go. I underestimated them. They showed up at my workplace. Mrs. Gallagher’s exact logic was: How can a liar who breaks her promises be allowed to work in the public sector, supposedly serving the community? This time, it wasn’t just the two of them. They dragged along Mia’s disabled father and her fragile younger brother, Kevin. The whole family camped out in the main lobby of the City Hall permit office. Mrs. Gallagher marched up to every single service window, loudly broadcasting her sob story. She claimed I had promised to fund Mia’s entire university education, but now I was going back on my word and refusing to pay. She cried about how they brought me hometown gifts out of the goodness of their hearts, only for me to turn up my nose and kick them out onto the street at night. She wailed that if I wasn’t going to fund Mia’s college, I shouldn’t have stolen the sponsorship spot from wealthy corporate donors who actually had money. Now, Mia was doomed to rot in their dead-end hometown because I was a greedy liar. She put on such a tear-jerking performance you’d think she was auditioning for an Oscar. I had funded this girl for four years. Because she wanted an exorbitant amount of money to go abroad, I said no, and suddenly I was the villain of the century? In just a few days, she successfully made me the most famous person in my department. Sitting at my front-desk window, I could feel the side-eyes and whispers from my coworkers. But because I worked at the public-facing front desk, I had no valid excuse to have security throw them out without causing a PR nightmare. “Chloe, Director Davis is back from his conference. He wants to see you in his office.” After the family had terrorized my lobby for four straight days, my boss returned from a two-week training trip early. Clearly, the circus downstairs had prompted his early return. “Chloe. Come in, sit,” Director Davis greeted me with his usual warm, politician smile. I forced a polite smile back. “Good morning, Director.” I sat down, feeling incredibly anxious. “I’ve heard about the situation downstairs,” he said, taking a slow sip from his thermos. “Why don’t you walk me through exactly what’s going on?” “I started sponsoring Mia when I was a junior in college. $500 a month. I had come into a little bit of money that year, and I just wanted to do something good, so I picked two students to help out. Last year, she failed her college entrance exams, so I terminated the agreement. But she begged me, saying if she didn’t do a prep year, her mom was going to force her into an arranged marriage just to collect a dowry for her brother. I agreed to sponsor her for one final year. The condition was that she had to get into a state college. If she failed again, the money stopped.” “I see. I know your character, Chloe. Doing a good deed is commendable,” Director Davis said, rubbing his temples. “But this family causing a scene in the lobby every day… we can’t let this continue.” “I know, Director. I’ll handle it.” “With people like this, you can’t just throw money at the problem to make them go away. They’re a bottomless pit.” “I understand.” “If you need help, don’t try to shoulder it alone. We have your back,” he said thoughtfully. “Have security bring them up to my office. I’ll have a word with them.” “Thank you so much, Director.” As I walked downstairs, I ran into the family of four being escorted up by the security guards. Mrs. Gallagher shot me a triumphant, arrogant glare, strutting like she owned the building. “Mia,” I called out to the girl trailing at the back. She flinched, surprised I was speaking to her. “What’s the matter? Finally willing to talk to us?” Mrs. Gallagher sneered, assuming my silence over the past few days meant I had caved. “You gave us a few pennies and think you’re God. If we knew you were just a miserable 9-to-5 desk jockey, we would never have taken your money! I’ll make a scene every day until you’re completely humiliated. Let’s see if you dare bully us again.” “Mia, for the last four years, I wired your tuition and your $500 monthly living expenses on time, every single month. You told me you would study hard to repay my kindness. Is this how you repay me?” I stared dead into Mia’s eyes. “Have I ever asked you for anything unreasonable? Have I ever mistreated you? Don’t you think causing a scene at my job is completely immoral?” “$500?!” Mrs. Gallagher gasped like she had just been struck by lightning. She slapped Mia hard on the shoulder. “You ungrateful brat! You told me she only sent $300! Where did the other $200 go?!” Kevin lunged forward, grabbing his sister’s arm. “Did you hide money from me?! Give it back!” Being yanked back and forth by her mother and brother, Mia finally snapped. She ripped her arm away and screamed, “I gave it to Trey!” She shot me a venomous glare. “Trey’s wealthy parents despise my background. They cut off his credit cards to force us to break up, so I gave the money to him!” “But that was supposed to be my money!” Kevin whined. “Oh, shut up, look at the big picture! Once your sister and Trey come back from studying abroad, do you really think we’ll care about a few hundred bucks?” Mrs. Gallagher beamed at Mia as if looking at a winning lottery ticket. Suddenly, her eyes shifted back to me, filled with absolute disgust. “If you hadn’t shoved your way in, the person sponsoring Mia would have been a real millionaire! An actual CEO! Not a fraud who can’t even scrape together $50,000. You’re broke, but you still pretend to be rich.” I let out a dark chuckle. “If I hadn’t sponsored her, you would have sold her off for a dowry four years ago. Did you forget?” “Th-that was a special circumstance!” Mrs. Gallagher stammered. “Besides, Mia found Trey on her own! It’s her own blessing! You don’t have the money anyway, so this is none of your business!” I didn’t bother arguing with the mother. I just looked at Mia. But in her eyes, I couldn’t find a single trace of gratitude or apology. Perfect. Four years of charity, wasted on a snake. Director Davis stepped out of his office, saw us in the hallway, and ushered everyone inside. “I’m familiar with your situation,” Director Davis said with his signature smile, taking a slow sip of his tea. “What exactly are you hoping to achieve here?” “Director, Chloe promised to sponsor Mia through college, but now that Mia’s grades slipped, she’s backing out. We couldn’t swallow that injustice, so we came to find her. Just because a kid struggles in school doesn’t mean she should be stripped of her right to an education, does it?” Mrs. Gallagher’s rapid-fire guilt trip even caught Director Davis off guard for a second. “We’re reasonable people. We just want you to judge the situation fairly. How can someone with zero integrity like her be allowed to work here?” “Chloe is an exceptional employee. Her work ethic is recognized by everyone in this building,” Director Davis interrupted smoothly. “Well, she’s your employee, and she promised to pay for Mia’s college. Since she doesn’t have the money, Director, don’t you think your office should allocate some public funds to solve this issue?” I swear, even a seasoned veteran like Director Davis blue-screened for a second when he heard that. I certainly didn’t expect Mrs. Gallagher to drop a demand so delusional it could shatter the sound barrier. “Chloe’s charitable contributions are strictly personal actions. They have absolutely nothing to do with this office,” Director Davis replied, recovering his diplomatic tone. “You’re a massive government office, and you don’t have a charity fund?” Mrs. Gallagher pressed, refusing to give up. “Sponsoring Mia is an investment with infinite returns! You really don’t have a precedent for this?” “If you’re looking for charity, I suggest you contact the Red Cross,” Davis said, glancing at them. “Though, somehow, I doubt they’ll fund an international vacation.” “I don’t care! Your employee made a promise. If she doesn’t have the money, you need to figure it out!” Mrs. Gallagher had fully transitioned into throwing a toddler’s tantrum. “Chloe doesn’t have money?” Director Davis looked at me, thoroughly amused. “Chloe, did you not explain your financial situation to them?” 4 Yes, I was just a regular 9-to-5 employee. But during my junior year of college, my family received a massive payout from a corporate eminent domain buyout of our land. It wasn’t “buy-a-private-jet” money, but it was enough that if I budgeted well, I wouldn’t have to stress about bills for the next two hundred years. I wanted to put some of it to good use, so I picked two students to sponsor. I never expected them to worship the ground I walked on. I just wanted to help people who actually needed it. But I never anticipated creating a monster like Mia. The moment Mia and her mother realized I actually did have money, the speed at which their attitudes flipped was genuinely breathtaking. Mia was suddenly calling me “Chloe” with nauseating sweetness, blaming her “youth and immaturity” for her past behavior. She claimed she was just so desperate to study that it clouded her judgment. Her mother parroted the same nonsense, claiming her “fierce maternal love” made her act disrespectfully. Mrs. Gallagher even went back downstairs to all the service windows, aggressively singing my praises to my coworkers and asking them to “take good care of me.” The whiplash was so severe my coworkers looked at her like she belonged in a psych ward. But true to form, they operated entirely on their own shameless logic, uncaring of how unhinged they looked. The venom they spewed yesterday matched the sickeningly sweet flattery they poured on me today. In just a few days, this mother-daughter duo taught me that when someone truly abandons all shame, there is absolutely no limit to what they are capable of. They started camping outside my apartment again—this time, practically trying to force-feed me home-cooked meals. Her disabled father limped around my hallway, sweeping my doormat. And Kevin, the frail, delicate brother, waited for me outside my office every morning and evening, claiming he was there to “protect” me. People talk about getting milked like a cash cow, but this family was trying to harvest my organs. I had sponsored a student and accidentally adopted a whole lineage of parasites. Director Davis loved watching the karma unfold, but at the end of the day, it was my mess to clean up. I sighed in defeat. “Mia, come here.” Hearing me finally address her directly, Mia’s face lit up with pure ecstasy. “Yes? What is it, Chloe?” “Regarding the funds for you to study abroad,” I said, my tone completely flat. The moment those words left my mouth, the entire family swarmed me like vultures. “Are you willing to sponsor me?!” Mia’s eyes practically glowed in the dark. “Let me explain my situation.” I paused for dramatic effect. “I don’t spend a lot of money on a daily basis. My funds are locked in high-yield Certificates of Deposit. If I withdraw the money early, the penalty fees are massive.” “So after all that talk, you’re just making excuses not to pay us,” Kevin sneered, rolling his eyes. I completely ignored him. “If I am going to continue the sponsorship, we have to sign a legally binding contract. I will only wire the money directly to the educational institution for tuition. Furthermore, you must guarantee you will actually graduate and receive a legitimate diploma.” “Yes, yes, absolutely! I promise I will study so hard!” Mia nodded furiously. “Like I said, my money is locked up. It matures in exactly fifteen days. That is the earliest I can access the funds.” “Ah, is that so?” Mia looked deeply distressed. “Chloe, can’t you just take the penalty fee and withdraw it early? My family already took out a huge loan to start building my brother’s house… Just pull it out early, and we’ll pay you back whatever the penalty fee is!” I stared at the girl flashing me a brilliant smile. Pay me back the penalty fee? The absolute delusion. “This is my final offer,” I said coldly. “Until those fifteen days are up, do not contact me.” Realizing I left zero room for negotiation, Mia pouted and muttered an “Okay.” “And stop lurking around my apartment,” I added, looking at the family of four buzzing with greedy excitement. “In fifteen days, bring the contract to my office, and we’ll sign the paperwork.” “Chloe, you are the absolute best! Our whole family thanks you!” Before leaving, Mia forced me into a massive, suffocating hug. As Mrs. Gallagher walked away, she loudly praised my “kind and generous heart.” I funded Mia for four years and never got a single word of thanks. Now, I was making them wait fifteen days, and suddenly I was a saint. Was I being kind and generous? No. I was simply respecting the fate they chose for themselves.

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My husband looks like he just went through a terrible breakup. After coming home, he sat on the sofa, staring at his phone in dead silence, his face clouded with gloom. I know his girlfriend is an absolute drama queen. Odds are, she just dumped him again. How wonderful, I couldn’t help but curl my lips into a smile. Thank goodness my boyfriend isn’t like that. 1 On the way to my prenatal checkup, Declan’s phone rang. The girl on the other end whined, demanding he come over right now. Declan glanced at me, sounding conflicted. “I’m busy right now. Can I come over a bit later?” “But my stomach hurts! I’m giving you half an hour to get here!” Declan frowned, turning to me as if struggling to find the right words. I lowered my eyes and said calmly, “Go ahead. I’ll be fine on my own.” He froze for a second, then hurriedly pulled the car over to the curb. “Be careful then. Call me if you need anything.” The black Maybach sped off. I didn’t bother watching it go, just raised my hand to hail a cab. We both knew “call me if you need anything” was just an empty courtesy. When Declan was with Blair, calling him until his phone exploded wouldn’t make a difference. Besides, it wasn’t my first time going to a prenatal checkup alone. I hailed a cab to the clinic with practiced ease. While the doctor was reviewing my ultrasound, Blair called me. “Hello?” The sound of running water echoed through the speaker. Blair’s voice dripped with undisguised provocation. “Audrey, guess what Declan is doing right now?” I remained expressionless. “Taking a shower, I assume. Waiting to finish up so he can mess around with you. What, am I part of your little roleplay now?” Blair clearly didn’t expect the legal wife to be so calm instead of sobbing hysterically. She was thrown off for a second. After a brief silence, she gritted her teeth. “You’re going to a prenatal checkup today, right? And yet, all it took was one phone call from me to drag him away.” “Audrey, don’t you think it’s pathetic for a woman to be completely unable to keep her husband’s heart?” I scoffed. “Why would I want to keep his heart? Keeping his money is enough.” “You might have his heart, but the money he spends on you is marital property. Blair, I’d advise you to play smart. If I ever get pissed off and decide to sue you, you’ll have to spit out every single dime.” She was so furious she couldn’t speak. Finally, choking on her rage, she viciously hung up. The doctor, who had been unabashedly eavesdropping, gave me an awkward smile. “Pregnant women shouldn’t get angry. You’ve got a great mindset.” I waved it off. “His little mistress tries to piss me off every single day, hoping I’ll just drop dead. I’ve built up an immunity.” “Then why are you having his baby?” I said nonchalantly, “He’s rich.” The doctor zipped her lips. I was joking, of course. This baby had nothing to do with money. When I got pregnant, I didn’t know about Blair. Back then, I naively thought a child could save my shattered marriage with Declan. It was only later I realized that a shattered mirror can’t be put back together, and spilled water can’t be gathered. Forget one kid; even if I gave birth to a whole infantry platoon, Declan wouldn’t change his mind. But that was fine. I had already found my next chapter anyway. A knock came at the door. I turned around and smiled at the man standing there, covered in sweat. Wearing a slightly wrinkled white tee and jeans, he had clearly rushed out of the house. But his face was so strikingly handsome that even his messy clothes gave off a sort of effortless, high-fashion vibe. His eyes were bright. Panting, he smiled, “I’m late.” 2 I reached out and patted his t-shirt. “You make a six-hundred-dollar shirt look like it cost six bucks. What a waste.” Nolan grabbed my hand. “I was in a rush! I ran out the door the second you texted me.” He looked down. “Oh man, I put my socks on inside out.” I couldn’t help but smile. The doctor was stunned, looking from me to Nolan and back again. I felt a little embarrassed. “Oh, this is my boyfriend.” The doctor’s mouth twitched. Nolan immediately leaned in. “Doctor, is everything okay with her checkup today?” The doctor cleared her throat and refocused. “She has slight anemia. You’ll need to pay attention to your iron levels in the later stages…” Nolan listened intently, pulling out his phone’s notepad app to jot down every detail. Whenever the doctor used medical jargon, he’d ask her to slow down and explain. By the end of it, the doctor had a complicated look on her face. “Your boyfriend is really good to you.” I nodded. “Yeah. Much better than my deadbeat husband.” On the way to drop me off at home, Nolan couldn’t help but ask: “When are you finally going to divorce him?” “Last time my parents tried to set me up on a blind date, I told them I had a girlfriend, but they didn’t believe me. They keep insisting I bring you home.” I turned to look at him. The tips of Nolan’s ears were slightly red. I just noticed how incredibly long his eyelashes were, his eyes a pure, brilliant black in the light. For no reason at all, he reminded me of the golden retriever next door, waiting for me to throw a tennis ball. I deflected, “We’ll see. I’ll get it done as soon as possible.” My meeting Nolan was quite dramatic. I had stumbled upon a thriller novel on a flight and thought it was an absolute masterpiece. I went on to read everything the author had published. The more I read, the more I was captivated by his sharp prose and wildly unpredictable plots. It just so happened that the author, who went by the pen name “Legless Bird,” was doing a book signing in the city. I went to check it out. I had assumed the author was a middle-aged man; his writing was just too mature. I never expected him to be a young man in his early twenties, and surprisingly gorgeous. With a face like that, he could have easily made it in Hollywood. That was Nolan Reed. At the signing, I casually asked, “The killer in No Spring didn’t actually murder for his mother, did he?” Nolan’s head snapped up. “You caught that?!” He excitedly started discussing the plot with me until his assistant coughed from behind him. “Nolan, there’s a huge line waiting.” Only then did Nolan reluctantly hand my book back. “Alright, thank you.” He winked at me, a sly smile flashing in his clear eyes. I opened the book. Right beneath his signature was a string of numbers. It was his phone number. … Everything after that progressed naturally. At first, we just discussed his plots. Eventually, we realized we shared a lot of the same interests. On the day he confessed his feelings to me, I hesitated before telling him about my situation. By then, Declan and I had already fallen apart. He had Blair, and we were essentially living as strangers. But I was already carrying his child. Nolan froze for a long time. He said he needed to go back and think. Three days later, just when I assumed he was going to give up, he called. “I don’t want to be the other man.” “But over the last three days, I realized… I can’t let you go.” So Declan had Blair. And I had Nolan. 3 When I got home, I found Declan sitting on the sofa, looking incredibly grim. He looked exactly like someone who just went through a terrible breakup. I instantly realized he and Blair must have gotten into another fight. Nine times out of ten, it was her classic “break up and block” routine. She had used this move a million times. Blair was Declan’s first love. She got together with him when she was 17, and they dated for five solid years. Back then, Declan wanted to marry her. He even bought the ring. But Declan’s mother fiercely opposed it. She threatened to cut him off and forced them to break up, pushing me onto him instead. I was a student sponsored by Mrs. Pierce. From the time I was 10 until I turned 18, she consistently funded my education and living expenses. Even when I went off to college, she looked after me. I was an orphan. During the holidays when I had nowhere to go, she would bring me to the Pierce estate. During my freshman year, I secured a full scholarship and started my own small business, no longer needing her financial support. But we stayed close, and I visited her every holiday with gifts. From a small convenience store funded by a student loan to eventually owning a third of the retail space in the college town, I spent two years building my business. I made over a million dollars. It was probably around that time that Mrs. Pierce saw my business acumen. Mr. Pierce had passed away in a car accident years ago, and Mrs. Pierce’s health was failing. She was constantly in and out of the hospital, deeply worried about the future of the Pierce Corporation. Declan was a classic trust-fund kid with zero business sense. Since Blair was an art major, Mrs. Pierce felt she couldn’t help the family business. She sat me down for a long talk, begging me to marry Declan and help manage the Pierce empire. I sat in silence for a long time before finally agreeing. She sponsored me for nine years; I would protect Declan and his company for nine years. After nine years, if we had a good relationship, we’d stay together. If he still didn’t love me, we’d divorce. I was 20 then. I am 29 now. … On the sofa, Declan had his black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows, his custom Italian leather shoes pristine. I frowned. “Why didn’t you take your shoes off again?” Declan snapped impatiently, “Why did you have to provoke her today?!” I finally understood. He was interrogating me over the few words I had fired back at Blair. I sneered. “Declan, did you slam your head in a door?” “She called me! The mistress got so arrogant she came to harass the wife, and instead of yelling at the instigator, you’re here yelling at me?!” “You know how she is!” Declan sounded a bit defensive, his voice dropping. “She grew up spoiled, her temper is a little explosive. What’s the big deal if you just let her have her way?” I kept a straight face. “Sorry, I’m an orphan. I never had parents to teach me how to coddle spoiled little princesses.” “If you want to be her obedient lapdog, go right ahead. I have zero interest in playing along.” Declan’s face darkened. “Do you have to speak so viciously?” I felt like saying one more word to him would spike my blood pressure and hurt the baby, so I simply slammed the bedroom door shut. Lying on the bed, I looked at my growing belly and sighed. Honestly, after finding out about Blair, I hadn’t wanted to keep this baby. But Mrs. Pierce had cried and begged me not to abort. She even shakily got out of her hospital bed to get on her knees. Without Mrs. Pierce’s sponsorship, I would probably still be stuck in a rural town, already a mother of several kids, working a dead-end factory job. She changed the entire trajectory of my life. I couldn’t say no to her. This baby was my final compromise, the ultimate repayment for her years of grace. I told her that after the baby was born, I would divorce Declan. In the living room, Declan was back on the phone, his voice soft and coaxing as he tried to pacify Blair. I covered my face with a pillow. I didn’t want to hear it. Blair was an absolute drama queen. I had heard of her infamous reputation long before she even got back with Declan. Probably spoiled rotten since childhood, she threw tantrums over everything and threatened to break up with Declan every other day. Every single time, Declan would bow his head and beg her to stay. That was another reason Mrs. Pierce refused to let them be together. The time they actually broke up was the 27th time Blair had threatened it. Declan was probably finally exhausted. Combined with his mother’s extreme ultimatums, for the first time, he didn’t beg. And just like that, they went their separate ways. Truthfully, when Declan and I first got married, I had hoped we could build a good life together. He was very handsome. Unlike Nolan’s clean, youthful vibe, Declan had a sharp, rugged attractiveness, with a hint of a bad boy edge. From the outside, you would never guess he was a hopeless romantic. For the first two years, Declan resented me, feeling I was forced onto him by his mother. But humans aren’t made of stone. Over a thousand days and nights together, his attitude toward me finally softened. At our best, I genuinely thought he had forgotten about Blair. We would hold hands in the evening to buy groceries and cook dinner together. He would book my favorite restaurant for Valentine’s Day and give me hand-picked gifts. When I woke up terrified from a nightmare, he would pull me into his arms, pat my back to soothe me, and we’d fall back asleep holding each other. There was a period I could truly call happy. I thought we were going to walk down that path forever. Until a year ago, when his attitude abruptly changed. He grew increasingly impatient with me. At first, I thought it was just the seven-year itch. When I got pregnant, I was even a little joyful, thinking the baby might mend our relationship. It was only later I found out it wasn’t the seven-year itch at all. Blair had returned. That was when I realized, from beginning to end, Declan had never let her go. Outside the door, Declan finally finished his call and pushed into the room. “She’s really mad this time. Can you just apologize to her first?” 4 For a split second, I wanted to grab the lamp on the nightstand and crack Declan’s skull open to see exactly what kind of trash was rattling around in his brain. Remembering the doctor’s advice about pregnant women staying calm, I took a deep breath, my jaw aching from clenching my teeth. “Get the hell out!” Declan frowned, his voice turning cold. “Audrey, you’re crossing the line.” “I’ll cross your damn face!” I sat up violently. “Declan, when there’s a problem at the company, you run to me. When Blair throws a tantrum, you run to me. For a grown man to live this pathetically, it’s honestly embarrassing.” I sneered, “What’s the point of you even breathing? You might as well just drop dead.” Dark currents swirled in Declan’s eyes, the veins in his forearms bulging. For a second, I thought he was going to lunge over and hit me. After a long moment, he said coldly: “Audrey, don’t regret this.” He slammed the door and stormed out. This wasn’t the first time. When Blair went abroad years ago, her father had been sent to prison for illegal fundraising. The Kensington family fell from grace. Now, Declan was the only lifeline she could cling to. But Declan was already married to me, so she was stuck playing the secret mistress. She wanted to force me to step down, so she provoked me constantly. I never humored her. Every time, I pissed her off so much she practically choked. When Declan failed to pacify her, he’d come looking for me to apologize. He knew that, out of respect for his mother, I rarely denied his requests. But over the years, I single-handedly dragged the Pierce Corporation back from the brink of bankruptcy to its current booming, ever-expanding state. It was safe to say that without me, the Pierce family would have been ruined long ago. I didn’t owe them anything anymore. … When I arrived at the office the next day, the atmosphere felt off. People walking by kept stealing glances at me, looking like they wanted to say something but didn’t. When I reached my office door, I found all my belongings thrown out, scattered haphazardly across the floor. My absolute favorite coffee mug was shattered into pieces. My face went cold. “What is the meaning of this?” Someone I completely didn’t expect pushed out of my office. Blair casually glanced at the items on the floor and scoffed. “Helping you move out. I figured it would be tough for you with that big belly, so I kindly did it for you.” I froze. “Why are you here?” Blair leaned against the doorframe, smirking. “Didn’t you know? Oh, Declan is terrible, how could he forget to tell you?” “Audrey, Declan fired you. You’re no longer the General Manager of Pierce Corp. You can pack up and get out.” Her light, airy voice struck my ears like a thunderclap. I blurted out, “Fired me?” “Then who is the new GM?” A completely absurd possibility crossed my mind, but it was so ridiculous I refused to believe it. Blair seemed to thoroughly enjoy my current expression. She walked over and flipped the nameplate on my desk. “I just casually mentioned it, and he insisted on firing you. It honestly makes me feel a little guilty.” With a mocking smile playing on her lips, she stepped up to me and whispered: “Audrey, did you really think you could keep his money?” “Let me tell you, you’re not walking away with a single cent.” This was beyond ridiculous. I turned to look at the other employees. They all looked deeply uncomfortable, but no one said a word. Right then, Declan walked over. I rushed up to him. “Declan, what is the meaning of this?!” “How can you just fire me like that?!” Declan said flatly, “I’m doing this for your own good.” “You’re heavily pregnant and everything is difficult for you. Having Blair come in to help out will let you focus on resting at home.” I stared in disbelief. “Her?!” “You’re making her the GM? She’s an art major! You’re going to destroy Pierce Corp!” “The city officials are waiting on me for the Southside development project! What happens to the project if you fire me?!” Declan crossed his arms and sneered. “Audrey, you think way too highly of yourself.” “Do you think the company stops spinning without you? Before you got here, Pierce Corp was doing just fine.” I suddenly understood. This was Declan’s retaliation for my refusing to apologize to Blair yesterday. Or maybe they had planned this all along, just waiting for the chance to tear me down. “Declan,” I said, trying to swallow my rage. “Doing this will ruin the company. You can’t be this irresponsible.” “Ruin the company?” Declan looked me up and down. “I think you just can’t bear to lose your power.” “Audrey, ever since you joined the company, everyone only knows ‘Manager Audrey’. Does anyone even remember that I’m the Chairman?!” “I think you just want to change the company name to yours!” I stared at Declan blankly. So that was it. He felt I had usurped him. But was this what I wanted? Mrs. Pierce brought me into the company specifically to protect and guide Declan. But all these years, Declan only cared about drinking, racing supercars, and partying with his trust-fund buddies. Since when did he ever care about managing the business? Even when I talked until my throat was raw, desperately begging him to learn corporate management, he just impatiently brushed me off: “If I’m doing the studying, what do I need you for?” “Didn’t my mom bring you into the company exactly so you could do the work for me?!” Left with no choice, I had to carry Pierce Corp on my own shoulders. In those years, the company was hemorrhaging money, supply chains were collapsing, and major clients were jumping ship. I was the one who stood outside clients’ doors, swallowing my pride and begging them to come back, one by one. When a client’s mother fell ill, I stayed by her hospital bed day and night for nearly a month, finally moving him enough to renew the contract. I lost 12 pounds that month. When I finally left the hospital, my clothes hung off me like a skeleton. I went out to business dinners, dealing with greasy, difficult, creepy clients. No one helped me. Sometimes when I looked back, even I couldn’t believe how I survived those years alone. It was a fact that without me, the current Pierce Corp wouldn’t exist. And now, after wringing me dry, Declan was kicking me to the curb. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, taking a step back. “Declan, does your mother know you’re doing this?” His expression shifted slightly, then he flared up in anger. “This is my family’s business! This is my company! I don’t need to report to anyone!” Blair leaned against Declan, a smug half-smile on her face. “Audrey, who do you think you are?!” A flash of contempt crossed her eyes. “You’re just a glorified wage slave. Pack up your trash and get out!” I looked at the man in front of me, standing frozen in place. After a long moment, I smiled. “Fine, Declan.” “You win.” “I’m leaving.” 5 After leaving the company, I received countless phone calls. They were all from upper management. They explained that Declan had called an early morning meeting. They had voiced their objections, but Declan had shot them all down. I turned off my phone and wandered aimlessly down the street. As I walked, my stomach suddenly cramped. The pain quickly radiated through every bone in my body. I suddenly felt a rush of heat between my legs. I looked down. At some point, my skirt had become soaked in blood. … Before being wheeled into the operating room, the doctor told me they might not be able to save the baby. I forced myself to call Declan. Not because I harbored any hope for him, but because I had made a promise to his mother about this child. He had a right to know. “Declan, I’m at the hospital.” The pain was so intense I was almost numb. I fought to keep my voice steady, though it still trembled. “The doctor said we might lose the baby. I’m just letting you know.” Declan just sneered. “Audrey, since when did you learn to play the hysterical, suicidal wife card?” “Did you think threatening me with the baby would make me let you back in?” I silently hung up the phone. Slowly, I raised my hand and rested it on my lower abdomen. Honestly, when I first learned Blair had returned, I stopped looking forward to this baby. Sometimes, the thought even flashed through my mind that this child was a mark of shame. A constant reminder that my husband had always loved another woman. But as the days passed and I felt the baby growing inside me day by day, that magical connection of shared blood grew stronger. I had decided that if Declan didn’t want this child, I would take them away with me. This was my baby, who had kept me company for so long. I closed my eyes, and a single tear slipped down my cheek. … The first thing I saw when I woke up was Nolan’s face. He was wearing a black hoodie, looking just like a college student. He rushed over, his face etched with anxiety. “How are you? Does it hurt? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?” The nurse glanced at him. “The anesthesia hasn’t worn off yet. The pain won’t start until tonight.” I was startled. Weakly, I asked: “How did you get here?” His eyes were completely red. “My aunt is a doctor here. She saw you when we came in last time, and she just called me.” Nolan and the doctor carefully wheeled me into a recovery room. Technically, a miscarriage didn’t require a long hospital stay, but he was too worried and insisted I stay overnight for observation before going home. When I was discharged the next day, Nolan insisted I go to his house. “That guy—” he frowned. “That guy treats you horribly. He definitely won’t take care of you. You just had a miscarriage, how can you manage with no one to look after you?” I thought about it and agreed. To be honest, I rarely allowed myself to be vulnerable in this life. My survival mode kicked in much earlier and harsher than most people’s, and I had carried myself through it all. For some reason, when you’re alone, you can grit your teeth and keep moving forward. But the moment someone actually cares for you, you suddenly become fragile. I really didn’t want to go back to that massive house where I’d be all alone.

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During the Q&A segment of our dating reality show, the producer asked me: “Have you dated before?” I gave a polite, reserved answer: “Yes, but our personalities didn’t match, so we broke up.” Next, they interviewed the A-list actor, Liam Sterling. He answered: “Yes. My ex-girlfriend is actually on this dating show right now.” The production crew, smelling the drama, excitedly pressed: “Care to share which dating show?” The A-list actor smiled faintly at the camera: “The one we’re filming right now.” The internet exploded that very day. Netizens turned into detectives, trying to hunt down which female cast member was the actor’s ex. Meanwhile, I quietly backed away from him on set, hoping to distance myself as much as humanly possible. 1 Love Signals was a celebrity dating reality show that generated massive hype before it even aired. The highest buzz was surrounding the “Ice & Fire” pairing: A-list actor Liam Sterling and the rising pop star/actress, Chloe Vance. They had just finished airing a wildly popular fantasy drama where they played star-crossed, enemies-to-lovers. When Chloe made her entrance, the live chat went absolutely wild— “Ahhh Chloe is here! She’s so gorgeous!” “Chloe and Liam! Are they coming on this show to officially announce their relationship?!” “I’m shipping them so hard, the Ice & Fire ship is too sweet!” My reception was vastly different. When I stepped onto the screen, the live chat was flooded with boos— “Why did the show invite Maya Lin? She makes me sick!” “Maya is such a clout-chaser. She’s obviously just here to leech off the Ice & Fire ship.” “Bad publicity is still publicity, I guess. Some people have no shame.” This show utilized a live-stream format. Every weekend, an edited highlight reel would be uploaded to major streaming platforms like Netflix and Hulu. I was the first to enter the “Heartbeat Villa” set up by the production team. I chose the most secluded seat in the corner and sat down. The second person to walk in was Liam Sterling. My ex-boyfriend. 2 I shifted in my seat, subtly trying to put more distance between us. He raised an eyebrow. Before he could even say hello, a bright, giggling voice echoed from the grand entrance. “Oh my gosh, you guys are already here!” “Maya, long time no see!” “Liam, we meet again!” Chloe Vance was wearing a cute crop top and a denim skirt, looking incredibly youthful and bubbly. As soon as she walked in, she acted like she owned the place, plopping down right next to Liam and happily chatting him up. The production team had purposefully set up a large screen showing the live chat. I glanced at it— “Wow wow wow! The Ice & Fire ship is feeding us!” “So sweet! The way Liam looks at Chloe is pure fire!” “Please just announce it already, I’ve got my wedding gift money ready!” Ten minutes later, all eight cast members—four men and four women—had arrived. Half were celebrities, and half were elites from other industries. The producers had everyone take turns answering one question: Have you ever dated before? Chloe looked at Liam with a shy, coy smile and answered: “No, but I do have a type that I really admire.” The chat started shipping them aggressively again. When it was my turn, I gave a reserved answer: “Yes, but our personalities didn’t match, so we broke up.” The chat immediately found a way to insult me— “Lmao, ‘personalities didn’t match.’ More like she has a terrible personality, the guy couldn’t stand her, and he dumped her!” Then it was Liam’s turn to answer. Everyone waited in anticipation. His beautifully shaped lips curled up slightly, and he said in a slow, deliberate tone: “Yes. My ex-girlfriend is actually on this dating show right now.” 3 His answer was like dropping a bomb. Not only did the live chat explode, but even the show’s director couldn’t hide his excitement. The director pressed: “Care to share which dating show?” Liam’s gaze brushed over me, almost imperceptibly. I pretended I didn’t see a thing. Ahem. What is this guy playing at? Is he trying to drag me down to generate hype for his new rumored relationship? Dream on! I’m not cooperating. The director, itching for the scoop, asked again: “Can’t you tell us?” Liam let out a light chuckle, acting as if it were a joke: “The one we’re filming right now.” The live chat instantly melted down! “Is Liam telling the truth???” “Chloe must be Liam’s ex, right? No wonder their chemistry in that drama was so insane.” “Did Liam come on this dating show just to win back his old love?” “This is the most beautiful love story ever, I’m shipping them so hard!” 4 The show had its viral moment. The director was thrilled. But I was incredibly unthrilled. Taking advantage of a bathroom break, I texted Liam on WhatsApp: “Is your brain malfunctioning?” Liam: “Yeah, there’s water in it.” Me: “???” Liam didn’t reply again. The show was still filming, so I couldn’t stay away too long. I washed my hands and stepped out. Just in time for the room selection segment. I absolutely did not want to share a room with Chloe, but she intimately linked her arm through mine. “Maya, let’s share a room! It’s been so long since we caught up. We can stay up all night talking!” I pulled my arm away and said calmly: “We’re supposed to draw lots. Let’s stick to the rules of the game.” Why is she pretending we’re besties? We were on a variety show together before. She used me as a stepping stone, establishing her “gentle best friend” persona, then paid off the editors to maliciously cut my footage, causing me to get cyberbullied by the entire internet. Does she really think the same trick will work twice? “What is Maya’s problem?” “Chloe is being so nice, why is Maya being such an ungrateful bitch!” “Chloe, ignore her, she’s not worth it!” I didn’t care what the chat was saying. I stepped forward and drew a card first. Oh wow. Blessed by the RNG gods. I drew a single room. “Let’s help the girls carry their luggage upstairs, right?” One of the male cast members suggested. Seeing Liam walking toward my side of the room, I quickly grabbed my suitcase and sprinted up the stairs like an Olympic athlete. 5 Nighttime. It was time for the anonymous “Heartbeat Text” segment. I thought about it and sent an encouraging text to Noah Grant, a young actor who was just as unpopular as I was: “The weather was beautiful today. Hope you’re happy.” Ding! Someone sent me a Heartbeat Text. It read: “The water in my brain is the tears you cried yesterday.” I knew instantly it was from Liam. What a psycho. The live chat was guessing— “Who sent Maya a Heartbeat Text?” “Well, it definitely wasn’t Liam.” “Chloe got a text saying she looked beautiful today. That was 100% Liam.” “Is the Heartbeat Text just someone telling Maya her brain is full of water? Hahaha I’m dead!” 6 The next morning, I woke up naturally. Downstairs, Chloe was serving Liam breakfast. “Liam, I know you have a sensitive stomach, so I made you some oatmeal.” Liam looked up, glanced at me standing at the top of the stairs, and said flatly: “My stomach is fine.” Chloe’s smile faltered for a second before she recovered: “When we were on set before, you had a stomach ache once that really scared me! I’m just glad you’re all better now.” Liam didn’t respond. I figured I’d avoid them and started to head back to my room. “Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” Liam called out to me. “I’ll eat later, thanks.” I replied politely. Chloe walked over to me with a beaming smile: “Skipping breakfast is a bad habit! I made a whole pot of oatmeal for Liam, but he can’t finish it all by himself. Why don’t you have a bowl?” She sounded exactly like his girlfriend. Her fans ate it right up. Even early in the morning, people were watching the stream— “Having a girlfriend like Chloe is such a blessing! Liam better cherish her!” “Liam said his stomach was fine because he didn’t want Chloe to worry. It’s a two-way street of love!” “Maya needs to leave, she’s ruining the shot. So unnecessary!” 7 I had nowhere to hide, so I decided to just cook some noodles myself. I inherited my cooking skills from my grandmother; it’s not something to scoff at. Back when Liam and I were still dating, he would always hold me and beg: “Baby, let’s go on a date to the farmer’s market today, please?” I’d laugh and push him away: “Is it a date, or are you just craving food?” He’d flip over, pin me down, and stare at me with those deep, dark eyes: “If you won’t let me crave good food, then I guess I’ll just have to crave you.” I could never say no to him. We’d wear disguises to look ugly and hold hands as we went to the market to buy groceries. The Heartbeat Villa didn’t have a ton of ingredients, so I decided to make a simple, traditional Hangzhou-style noodle soup. The savory aroma of the broth began to drift through the air. Noah, who had just come downstairs, let out a howl: “Who is seducing my stomach right now?!” I replied politely: “Noah, you haven’t eaten yet, right? I made a small pot, enough for two.” Before Noah could even walk over, Liam beat him to it. Liam’s “electric” eyes—as his fans called them—currently looked like a wet puppy’s as he stared at the pot: “Can I have some?” I silently backed away a bit: “Sorry, I already promised Noah.” The chat scoffed at me— “It’s just a bowl of noodles, what’s the big deal? Liam, let Chloe cook for you!” “Chloe is a great cook, she’s such a hidden gem!” Chloe must have seen the comments scrolling on the big screen. She winked playfully at me: “I’ll cook some noodles too! Let’s have a competition, Maya. Let’s see whose noodles taste better!” 8 The kitchen had two stoves. Chloe started her performance. Her movements were very elegant. I took one look. Oh, it’s because her French manicure is too long, making it hard to wash the vegetables. No wonder she’s slow. “Liam, could you help me tie the apron strings?” Chloe held up an apron, looking at Liam with pleading eyes. Coincidentally, Liam was also holding up a pink, women’s apron, as if he had anticipated this. Noah and I stood to the side, basically eating popcorn. Noah winked at me and whispered his gossip: “I already placed my bet. Five bags of spicy strips on guessing who Liam’s ex is.” I was surprised: “Where are you betting?” Noah: “You don’t know? The internet is going crazy. There’s a massive online poll guessing who Liam’s ex-girlfriend is. Chloe is currently at 99%.” Curious, I whispered: “How many votes do I have?” Noah gave me a look of pure pity: “0.008%.” Me: … Suddenly, Chloe let out a surprised gasp: “Liam?” Liam was holding the pink apron, but he was walking toward me. The guy moved too fast. Before I could dodge, he slipped the apron over my head. His cool fingertips brushed against the back of my neck, making me shiver involuntarily. He didn’t seem to notice. He seriously and tightly tied the strings behind my back. “Maya, do your best in the competition. I’ll be waiting for your noodles.” He took a step back, the corners of his mouth curling into a faint smile. 9 I never had any intention of competing with Chloe over cooking noodles. I was just about to take the apron off when I heard Chloe cry out in pain: “Ah! It burns!” She had lifted the pot lid and was probably hit by the steam. Chloe bit her lower lip, looking like she was on the verge of tears: “Liam… could you help me get some burn ointment? It’s in my suitcase in my room.” The fans in the live stream were heartbroken— “Oh my god, Chloe got burned! It must hurt so much!” “Liam, hurry up and help her apply the ointment! Go get it!” “Is Liam so heartbroken he froze? Why is he just standing there?” I couldn’t help but look at Liam. He smiled slightly, looking completely harmless, and said in a slow, deliberate tone: “I’m a guy. It’s not appropriate for me to go into the women’s bedrooms.” “Chloe, your legs are fine, right?” “Why don’t you go up to your room and get the ointment yourself? I’m afraid if you don’t hurry, the burn will heal itself.” I almost couldn’t hold back my laughter. This guy actually exposed his toxic, sharp-tongued nature on camera! I looked at Chloe’s hand. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it; it was just red from her rubbing it herself. But she acted like she was in agony, inhaling sharply and whining weakly: “Liam, you’re still joking around! Fine, fine, I know you respect boundaries. I’ll just go back to my room and apply it myself.” She stomped her foot and ran upstairs. The chat was thrilled— “Wow wow wow! Chloe said Liam respects boundaries, they are 100% a confirmed couple!” “No need to guess anymore, Liam’s ex is definitely Chloe.” “I’m calling her sister-in-law early!” “Liam, hurry up and win her back! My Ice & Fire ship can never sink!” 10 After breakfast, it was time for the blind date segment. According to the rules, the female cast members would draw lots. Unfortunately, I drew Liam. And Chloe drew Noah. The chat started raging immediately— “Is the production team trying to torture us on purpose?” “Watching Liam go on a date with Maya is worse than eating a hundred flies!” “Maya, you better know your place and swap with Chloe right now, or I’ll curse out your entire family!” The insults got uglier and uglier. Which only triggered my rebellious side. I originally wanted to swap with Chloe, but now I absolutely wasn’t going to. I smiled slightly at Liam: “Liam, I’ll be in your care today.” Liam returned his signature calm smile: “Don’t say that, Maya. The honor is all mine.” The date location the show had set up was a haunted house. Thanks a lot. I had been to a haunted house with Liam before. He looks cold and composed on the outside, but he’s actually terrified of ghosts. Last time, he was so scared by a female ghost NPC that he howled and clung to me for dear life. If that happened on camera, I wouldn’t just be getting my family cursed out. “You better act brave later!” Taking advantage of a gap before entering, when the cameras weren’t rolling, I warned Liam in a low voice. “Don’t jump on me.” Liam looked completely innocent: “Fear of ghosts is a psychological condition. I can’t control it.” I threatened him: “If you ‘can’t control it,’ I’ll leak all your embarrassing secrets.” Liam actually looked intrigued: “What embarrassing secrets do I have? Tell me.” I lowered my voice even more: “The aloof A-list actor is actually a massive simp behind closed doors. He sleeps hugging a plushie, and his mental age is exactly nine years old!” Liam raised an eyebrow and laughed: “Why does that sound kind of cute?” Me: … Narcissist! 11 The haunted house was chilling and pitch black. A bloody head swung from the ceiling. I felt Liam practically pressing against my back. I said loudly: “Liam, don’t be scared, it’s all fake!” Liam hissed: “It feels very real.” Just as he finished speaking, a horrifying NPC lunged out from a corner! Liam let out a howl and grabbed my wrist: “Maya! Where are you?!” I laughed out of sheer frustration. Where am I? In your demonic clutches! I tried to stay calm: “Liam, if you’re really scared, grab my jacket, and I’ll lead you out.” Liam didn’t hold back; he directly grabbed my hand. The night-vision cameras were rolling. Even though it wasn’t perfectly clear, it was enough for the audience to see. I decided to just embrace the chaos, dragging Liam in a dead sprint, talking absolute nonsense: “Liam, run! As long as you run faster than the ghosts, you’ll be fine!” Liam actually seemed amused by me. He squeezed my hand. I squeezed back, hard. Liam laughed again, whispering extremely quietly: “I’ll let you vent.” When we exited the haunted house, I noticed the production crew’s expressions were very colorful. There was a faint trace of the joy of eating drama. Me: ??? The makeup artist gestured for me to look at the live chat. I took a glance at her phone. “Am I deaf?! What did I just hear?!” “Liam called Maya ‘Maya’!” “Liam held Maya’s hand! He was holding it so tight!” “Everyone stay calm! We all know Liam is terrified of ghosts. It was just a subconscious action out of fear.”

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Three years into our marriage, Liam became obsessed with a college student. Their love was passionate and fiery. I, meanwhile, continued to play the role of the gentle, understanding socialite wife, even thoughtfully covering for him in front of both our parents. That is, until he went to a private club to find his disobedient little girl and saw me sitting on a male model’s lap, kissing him passionately. The usually aloof, dignified man saw red and smashed the club to pieces. 1 The little canary Liam was keeping on the side hadn’t been very well-behaved lately. She actually went behind Liam’s back and snuck over to the main estate, trying to get his grandfather to acknowledge her status. The old man was furious. I played along with Liam to defuse the situation, managing to get her out of there in one piece. The young girl followed behind us, her eyes red. The moment we stepped outside the carved iron gates of the estate, she immediately reached out and grabbed Liam’s sleeve: “Liam, I’m not with you for the money!” She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. She looked so delicate and pitiable; it was no wonder Liam was completely infatuated with her. Obviously, the attitude of his grandfather and parents made her realize how massive the gap was between her and the Thorne family, which was why she was so desperate to explain herself the second she got out. Liam frowned slightly, but ultimately couldn’t bring himself to scold her. He reached out and ruffled her hair, his tone a mix of helplessness and indulgence: “Alright, stop crying. I know.” With that, he looked at me, standing off to the side, looking a bit awkward: “She’s probably scared from what just happened. I’ll take her home first. You…” I had come here in his car, so if he was taking his new flame home, I naturally couldn’t go with them. But if I asked the estate driver to take me, the old man would definitely find out. I gave him a slight smile and proactively offered, “I’ll just call an Uber.” Liam was clearly very satisfied with my understanding nature. He nodded, wrapped an arm around the girl, and walked away without looking back. He didn’t even remember that the area around the main estate was some of the most expensive real estate in the city, exclusively residential. You couldn’t even get an Uber around here. 2 Liam didn’t come home until the following evening. He still had a few faded hickeys on his neck. They were intentionally placed right where his collar couldn’t hide them, like a bold declaration of ownership. Such childish little tricks; only a naive girl without an ounce of subtlety would do something like that. I lowered my eyes, pretending not to notice, and smiled as I took the coat he had just taken off, playing the role of the virtuous, perfect wife to the hilt. I even magnanimously showed concern for his mistress: “How is she?” He tugged at his collar, his tone light: “Just throwing a childish tantrum. A little coaxing and she was fine.” Seems like she was coaxed back to her senses. I hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to tell him what I had been considering for a long time: “Have you ever thought about giving her a proper title?” Liam’s tall frame froze in place. It took him a few seconds to process what I said. He asked, confused, “What do you mean?” “What I mean is, Liam, let’s get a divorce.” I was tired of playing the good wife. I didn’t want to do it anymore. 3 Clearly, Liam had never expected me to bring up divorce. He pinched the bridge of his nose, that handsome face I had swooned over for years now filled with irritation: “Chloe, you should know very well that divorce isn’t that simple for us.” I could hear that he was trying to suppress his frustration, keeping his voice as level as possible. In the past, this attitude meant he didn’t want to continue the conversation, and I should drop it. But this time, I was dead set on getting a divorce. My marriage to Liam was a corporate alliance. A divorce wasn’t just about the two of us; it involved both of our families. Getting a divorce really wouldn’t be easy. I bit my lower lip and continued, “It might be a little complicated, but…” “Enough!” He violently cut me off, reaching out and pulling me into his arms: “I know I’ve neglected you lately, and I’ll make it up to you, but don’t ever mention divorce again.” “Chloe, it feels like it’s been a long time since we…” With that, he lowered his head, his slightly parted lips moving closer to mine. I quickly slapped my hand over his mouth, making up an excuse: “It’s my time of the month! It’s not a good time!” Screw that! Who wants your sloppy seconds! Disgusting! 4 Since the divorce talk fell apart, I quickly packed my bags and moved out of the house. Liam, thinking I was just throwing a jealous fit, called me constantly. When I didn’t answer, he bombarded me with texts. Honestly, I was just worried he’d try to sleep with me again. As for jealousy… I’ll admit, when we first got married, any rumor about him made me physically ill. But as time went on, I slowly got used to it. My deep love for him was worn away by his constant betrayals. Still, I didn’t mind letting him misunderstand. I could use this opportunity to max out his credit cards, considering it my compensation for his infidelity. 5 A week after running away from home. My best friend, Sarah, and I walked into the most exclusive, high-end private club in the city. Naturally, Liam was footing the bill. As soon as we walked in, we ran into the little canary, wearing a server’s uniform and carrying a fruit platter: “You…” Never mind, I couldn’t even remember her name. I cleared my throat and asked, “What are you doing here?” The little canary pressed her lips together tightly, glaring at me with those pretty, big eyes, looking absolutely furious. Sarah hooked her arm through mine, looking her up and down: “Is this the little toy Liam keeps on the side?” “What, is Liam not giving her an allowance? Why is she working here?” The tray in the little canary’s hands trembled slightly. She looked like a cat with its back arched: “Liam and I are together because we love each other! It’s not for his money!” She directed her anger at me, continuing her outburst: “Liam says he only loves me! He’s only with you for the family business!” I waved my hand dismissively. “Got it, got it. Well, I wish you both happiness.” 6 I ignored her and led Sarah into our private room. Sarah laughed until she was breathless: “Where did Liam find this precious gem? Actually talking about ‘love’ with a married man in Liam’s social class.” “Does she actually think she can successfully replace you like that? She’d be better off taking whatever money she can get while she’s still young.” I smirked. “That’s why she’s young.” In old-money families like ours, legacy is more important than wealth. That’s why marriage is taken so seriously. If a marriage partner needs to have exceptional qualifications and a very high social standing, then it has to be a corporate alliance. Liam wasn’t stupid enough to give up everything he had for her, which is why he wouldn’t agree to the divorce. Sarah continued, “I heard that girl has been throwing tantrums with Liam the last couple of days.” “Apparently, because you moved out, you took up a lot of Liam’s attention, and the little girl wasn’t happy about it.” Our social circle is small; if someone wants to find something out, they will. I rolled my eyes at her. “You’re such a gossip.” 7 I have to say, spending my cheating husband’s money to hire male models is incredibly satisfying. Especially when the models are gorgeous, sweet-talking, and have amazing bodies. It would have been even better if my husband hadn’t caught me. When Liam kicked the door open, I was straddling a male model I had been seeing for the last couple of days, my arms wrapped around his neck, passionately kissing his face. I had on heavy, glamorous makeup, big, sexy waves, and a tight outfit that showed off my figure. Hearing the noise, I instinctively looked toward the door. Before the sultry look in my eyes could fade, I saw Liam’s face, dark as a thundercloud. I gave the male model one last peck on the lips before slowly climbing off him. Liam’s face was black as pitch, and he glared at the male model with a murderous intensity, looking like he wanted to hack him to pieces. I smoothed my hair, breaking the silence first: “Why are you here?” He ground his teeth, speaking in a low, slow drawl: “Chloe, how dare you?” “Why wouldn’t I dare? You play your games, I play mine.” The more I spoke, the guiltier I felt. “Let’s be fair, you have a mistress, and I never threw a fit about it.” I wasn’t guilty about being caught with a male model; I was just guilty because I was cheating on him using his money. 8 “Mr. Thorne, why are you over here? I was looking for you in the VIP lounge.” “I brought Mia here for you. I’m so sorry, I had no idea she was your girl.” I leaned sideways to look out the door. A chubby man was walking over, leading the little canary. Oh, so her name is Mia. Liam stood rooted to the spot, not even glancing in their direction. Mia, on the other hand, threw herself into his arms like a baby bird returning to the nest, crying: “Hubby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have thrown a tantrum, and I definitely shouldn’t have snuck out to work without telling you.” Me: “…” After her dramatic entrance, she followed Liam’s gaze and saw me. She pouted, shrinking back into Liam’s embrace, and acted like a spoiled child, whispering again, “Hubby.” A mistress calling my husband “hubby” right in front of me, the legal wife. That’s basically an open declaration of war, right? I didn’t really care. It was just a little nauseating. But I felt bad for the chubby man who had just walked up. Even though I didn’t know him, he seemed to recognize me. He looked at me, then at the clearly ravished male model next to me, then at the furious Liam and the little mistress in his arms. In just one minute, his facial expressions went through a dozen different changes. In families with corporate alliances, it’s normal for spouses to have their own side pieces. As long as they aren’t too blatant about it, they’ll usually turn a blind eye to maintain the facade for the sake of the business. A direct, face-to-face confrontation like ours was extremely rare. 9 Liam patted Mia’s back, suppressing his temper to coax her: “Be good, let the driver take you home first. I have some business to handle here.” Mia softly replied with an “Oh,” and slowly pulled away from Liam’s embrace. She looked me up and down, then casually remarked, “Are you talking about Miss Bennett’s business?” “When I first started working here a few days ago, I ran into Miss Bennett and her friend. I heard they hired the five most expensive guys.” “I was afraid you guys would fight, so I didn’t dare tell you.” I clicked my tongue. The little girl wasn’t as innocent as she looked. Liam’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He shifted his gaze to Mia, his eyes filled with the impatient fury he was trying to suppress: “I told you to go home. Did you not understand me?” Probably never having been spoken to like that by him before, Mia pouted and glared at him, tears welling in her eyes, acting like she was upset and waiting for him to coax her. However, Liam wasn’t in the mood to play her childish little games right now. For the first time, he lost his temper with his precious canary: “Get lost!” 10 Mia ran away crying. Liam stormed over to the couch I had just been sitting on with the male model and threw himself onto it: “Manager Chen, please bring… all the guys my wife ordered.” He ground his teeth, ultimately unable to say the words ‘male models’. The man addressed as Manager Chen wiped the sweat from his brow, bowing and nodding in agreement. As soon as he left, Liam smashed a crystal glass on the table: “Chloe, you’ve really outdone yourself!” He took off his suit jacket and threw it at me, the large garment covering my head. I could faintly smell the perfume Mia had left on it. I pulled it down, intending to throw it back at him. But he frowned, scanning me up and down before his gaze settled on my long, bare legs exposed by my miniskirt: “Put it on!” “And don’t you ever leave the house dressed like this again!” 11 He sure is bossy! I never noticed he was this possessive before. I calmly folded the jacket and looked him straight in the eye: “Liam, let’s just get a divorce. I’m truly sick of this.” Liam, who had been holding back this whole time, completely exploded after I said that. His eyes bloodshot, he kicked the table in front of him: “Haven’t I told you never to mention that word again?” I sighed, trying to communicate with him calmly: “You don’t even love me, why are you forcing this? This way, all three of us are miserable.” Liam froze for a moment, pointing at the male model who had been standing quietly to the side, his voice hoarse as if it had been scrubbed with sandpaper: “Miserable? You seem pretty happy messing around with this cheap trash!” The male model raised an eyebrow and shot back, “You tell me if she was happy. Just think about how happy you are when you’re messing around with your own cheap trash.” I silently gave him a thumbs-up. What a hero. 12 By the time Manager Chen brought in a line of male models, Liam had already smashed the private room to pieces. The flesh on the fat man’s face jiggled as he cautiously glanced at the hero standing in the ruins: “Mr. Thorne, what is…” Liam threw his cigarette on the floor, crushed it with his foot, and said flatly, “Calculate the damages and send the bill to our finance department.” With that, a cold sneer played on his lips as he surveyed the dozen or so handsome male models: “I didn’t realize you had such a big appetite.” “My fault, I guess I didn’t satisfy you!” I glared at him angrily: “Liam, are you sick? You’re humiliating them!” As soon as I yelled that, the sound of loud, sharp slaps echoed behind me. Liam’s sneer deepened: “Looks like they’re perfectly happy being humiliated by me.” I turned around stiffly. The guys Manager Chen brought in were slapping each other, but the hero who had talked back to Liam was still standing to the side, looking defiant. Truly the one I was most satisfied with so far. 13 Liam had no interest in watching them perform. He grabbed my arm, trying to drag me away, but was stopped by the hero who had been watching the spectacle. Liam narrowed his eyes: “Know your place. You’re just a cheap toy for people’s amusement. Get out of my way!” I frowned, annoyed: “Liam, do you have to be so nasty?” Liam, surprised that I was defending someone else, tightened his grip: “You’d better shut up and come home with me right now.” “Otherwise, I can’t guarantee what I might do!” The hero’s handsome face also darkened, looking like a storm was brewing. I was afraid they were going to start a fight, so I quickly shook my head at him. After all, I was still Liam’s legal wife, and given Liam’s social standing, dealing with a simple male model would be child’s play. I didn’t want to cause him any trouble. 14 Outside the club, Liam hailed a cab, shoved me into the backseat, and got in right behind me. The ride was silent. When we got home, he immediately locked the bedroom door, then pulled out his phone and made a call to someone: “Bring some guys and smash ‘The Oasis’ for me.” “And there’s a guy in there named…” He looked at me, and I quickly shook my head. It wasn’t that I wouldn’t tell him, I genuinely didn’t know his name. I was just there to spend money, why would I care what his name was? “Go find Manager Chen, he knows who it is. After you smash the place, find that kid and break his hands.” 15 Liam has a bad temper; I knew that. But he usually has incredible self-control, so I rarely saw him enraged. I certainly never expected him to be so ruthless. “He’s innocent, Liam, you can’t do this!” He leaned forward, pinning me down, his beautiful eyes filled with jagged, bloodshot veins: “He dared to set his sights on you, so he’s not innocent.” “Chloe, be good. Don’t let me hear you beg for him again.” “Otherwise, it might not just be his hands next time.” In the end, I had implicated an innocent person.

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My brother was the internet’s favorite punching bag, thoroughly blacklisted and desperate for any kind of traffic. To salvage his career, he dragged me onto a family reality show. Around others, he walked on eggshells, so terrified of the haters that he’d probably apologize to a stray dog if he bumped into it. But around the trolls? I chose violence. My brother: “Chloe, keep a low profile, I’m begging you.” The fans: “So satisfying, keep dragging them! We love to see it!” 01 I had just gotten back to the States from studying abroad when my brother accepted a gig on a family-oriented reality show. He invited our mom. She took a sip of her tea and said coldly, “I’m not going. It’s too embarrassing.” He invited our dad. Dad didn’t even look up from his mountain of paperwork. “For fifty million dollars a day, I’ll consider it.” My brother: “…” Left with no options, he turned his pleading eyes to me. I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s just a reality show. Your big sister will go with you.” Our mom looked at me with an expression that screamed you have no idea what you’re in for. My brother was so moved he practically sobbed, pulling me into a massive hug. “Chloe, you are the absolute best. I’m so grateful for you.” I patted his head affectionately. “Look at you, Hayes. You’re a big star now. Having a brother like you is my pride and joy.” Hayes flushed with embarrassment. “Um, Chloe… could you maybe check the internet first?” I had rushed back home so quickly that I wasn’t caught up on domestic entertainment news. Smiling, I opened up X. And my smile instantly froze. In a twisted sense of the word, he was indeed “popular.” Ever since he debuted two years ago, his name had been synonymous with mass cyberbullying. His singing and dancing were painfully average, yet he somehow secured a top debut spot on a massive idol survival show. The internet accused him of crying his way to the top and turned his dance practice videos into “senior citizen physical therapy” memes. In that moment, I deeply regretted saying, “You are my pride and joy.” And very soon, my brother would deeply regret saying, “I’m so grateful for you.” 02 The show, Dearest Family, was filmed at a luxury resort. It was a seven-day, 24/7 continuous livestream format. Drones followed us the second we stepped foot on the mountain path. When Hayes and I arrived at the base of the hill, another pair of guests was already waiting. The guy looked about twenty-five, tall with a slight tan, accompanied by a girl in casual activewear who looked visibly annoyed. They were whispering to each other, but the girl’s sour expression spoke volumes. When she saw us, she tilted her chin up and scoffed loudly. Hayes leaned in and whispered in my ear, “That’s Connor Vance. During the survival show two years ago, he ranked twelfth and got eliminated. The whole internet says I stole his spot in the final lineup.” I instantly understood. The producers were staging a bloodbath for ratings. As we walked over, Connor lowered his eyes, looking perfectly meek and subservient as he greeted us. Hayes, practically traumatized by the internet’s hatred, was walking on thin ice. He extended his hand, his smile bordering on desperate people-pleasing. Even so, the livestream chat was already tearing him apart: “Connor is so sweet. I can’t believe he has to film with the guy who stole his dream.” “Seeing Hayes’s fake, pretentious face makes me sick.” “Connor is too nice for initiating the greeting. Hayes has zero social awareness.” “Take away his pretty face, and what does Hayes even have against Connor?!” I stood there, completely deadpan, watching Connor flash a painfully “friendly” smile. “You must be Hayes’s sister,” Connor said. “I’m Connor, and this is my sister, Hailey. She won the National Youth Dance Championship last year.” Right on cue, Hailey smugly raised her chin, looking me up and down with sheer disdain. “Wow, I didn’t even know Hayes had a sister.” Connor quickly jumped in, playing the peacemaker. “Hayes doesn’t like bringing up his family in public. It’s totally normal you didn’t know.” Hailey scoffed again. “Makes sense. For someone who only debuted because of his face, his family probably isn’t much to brag about anyway.” 03 The Vance siblings came out swinging. Whether the producers had scripted this or not, the live chat was eating it up. “True, I tried looking up Hayes’s background online and found nothing.” “Some influencers analyzed it and said his family is probably poor, which is why he had to sell a sob story to debut.” My brow furrowed slightly. Seeing my reaction, Hayes secretly squeezed my hand. “Chloe, please bear with it. The fans are terrifying.” While we waited for the rest of the cast to arrive, Connor and Hailey fired off like a synchronized machine gun. “The Youth Dance Championship—do you even know what that is? Oh, sorry, I forgot you probably don’t study dance. Of course you wouldn’t know.” “A national title is just okay, I guess. My real goal is to take home an international trophy within five years.” The chat flooded with praise: “Connor’s family is elite. His sister is so talented!” “A dance champion! What a massive slap in the face to a certain someone who debuted with zero talent.” “His sister isn’t even defending him. Looks like that whole family is just empty heads and pretty faces.” The more Hailey talked, the more arrogant she got. Suddenly, I turned to Hayes. “Go grab me a water.” Hayes nodded obediently and scurried off to find a PA. The second he was out of earshot, I turned my deadpan gaze to Connor. “Connor, was it? Your sister is a dance champion. What about you? What titles do you hold? What honors have you won?” I pulled out my phone, opening a search engine right in front of him. “I just looked you up. The only thing attached to your name is ’12th place on a reality show.’ For someone who loves to show off this much, if you had a single other achievement, your PR team would have bought billboards for it by now.” Connor: “…” I smoothly pivoted to Hailey. “National dance champion? Which competition? Which circuit? What scale? Last I checked, there are over two dozen youth dance competitions in the States every year, and about fifteen of them hold less weight than your brother’s 12th place finish.” Hailey: “…” 04 Their faces went from flushed red to a sickly pale green. It was glorious. I casually looked away. Sigh. I should probably hold back a little. Don’t want to bully the kids too hard. I was ready to call a truce, but they weren’t. Hailey glared at me, refusing to back down. “That’s because my brother is humble! Everyone knows Connor carried Hayes on America’s Next Idol!” “Oh,” I replied flatly. She choked on her anger, taking a deep breath. “The title I won last year was for Dance Dynasty. That’s infinitely better than whatever you two losers have going on.” I actually remembered Dance Dynasty. My nine-year-old niece won it three years in a row. She actually declined their invitation last year because she thought the judging format was garbage. Listening to Hailey’s arrogant bragging, I frowned. A drone hovered above us, and a producer was standing just out of frame. I walked right up to him, pointing at Hailey. “She’s launching personal attacks. Is the production team not going to step in?” The producer made a hand gesture. “This is a live, unfiltered broadcast. The directing team does not interfere during recording.” I feigned a look of sudden realization. “So, no rules against cursing people out either?” “We are instructed to remain hands-off.” “Understood.” It was a simple, clarifying conversation, but the live chat lost its collective mind. “What is she doing? Tattling? Is she in kindergarten? So gross!” “Just like Hayes! Utterly pathetic.” “Hailey might be cocky, but at least she has the talent to back it up. Can this woman do anything besides cry to the producers?” “The show obviously wants drama. Snitching makes her look like a clown.” “Hailey is just being blunt and honest. Chloe is pulling sneaky, underhanded stunts.” 05 By the time I walked back, the last two pairs of guests had arrived. Hailey was currently giving an incredibly animated recount of her Dance Dynasty performance from last year. I listened for a moment before speaking up. “Dance Dynasty, huh? Sounds familiar.” Everyone subconsciously looked at me. Hailey’s smile stiffened, but she couldn’t hide her smugness. “Pretty impressive, right?” I smiled back. “They invited me, but I didn’t go.” “Why?” “Because I was overseas at the Global Apex Dance Championship.” I had completely hijacked her narrative. Her eyes went wide with disbelief. “What place did you get?!” Anyone in the industry knew the Apex Championship was the undisputed, most prestigious dance competition on the planet. The live chat erupted: “She’s totally bluffing. Does she even know the prestige of Apex?” “Only the absolute elite compete there. If she’s that good, why does Hayes suck so much?” I slowly lifted my gaze, meeting the expectant stares of everyone in the group. Deadpan, I replied, “Oh. I was a judge.” Hailey: “…” The silence hung in the air for a brutal ten seconds. Finally, Hailey’s voice cracked an octave. “You’re lying! You’re barely in your twenties. That’s impossible!” I tilted my head. “The Apex Championship is split into twelve regional divisions. I was just a judge for one of the regionals, not the grand finale.” I paused, my eyes drifting over to a shell-shocked Connor. I let out a soft chuckle. “Twelve divisions. So funny. It matches your rank exactly.” Connor: “…” Hailey was practically stomping her feet. “Impossible! You’re definitely making this up.” I looked at her like she was an idiot. “The judges’ roster is public record online. Oh, and right—my name is Chloe Sterling.” 06 At first, the audience reacted exactly like Hailey. A unified wall of denial, aggressively accusing me of being a pathological liar. Until someone posted a screenshot of the official Apex Championship judges’ roster. There it was. Under the Sixth Regional Division, right in the middle of a list of foreign veterans with impossibly long names, the crisp, simple name “Chloe Sterling” stood out like a beacon. “Holy sh*t. She’s actually a judge.” “My god. Just qualifying to compete there is insane. To be on the judging panel… how good is she?!” “Okay, she’s amazing, but Hayes still sucks, right? The fact that he stole Connor’s spot doesn’t change just because his sister is a prodigy.” “Exactly! Don’t lose focus! Chloe might be a god, but Hayes still belongs in the trash.” “Am I the only one who thinks Chloe is kind of savage? LMAO look at Connor’s face, he looks like he’s going to throw up.” The tension was broken when Hayes came jogging back, happily clutching a bottle of water. I took it naturally and twisted the cap off. “What took so long?” “The crew was short-handed with the set dressing, so I helped out a bit.” “Oh. Well, everyone’s here. Let’s head up.” Hayes finally looked around, flashing a polite, sunny smile at the new arrivals. Then, he shuffled closer to me, lowering his voice. “Chloe, is it just me, or is the vibe super weird? What did you guys talk about while I was gone?” Connor and Hailey’s venomous glares instantly burned into the side of my head. I remained perfectly unfazed, tilting my head innocently. “Huh? Weird vibe? Not at all. We’re getting along fabulously.” 07 The four pairs of guests—eight people in total—arrived at the resort right around noon. The estate was massive, featuring a luxury hotel up front and sprawling orchards and farms in the back. True to form, the production crew abandoned us the second we dropped our bags. We were entirely responsible for our own survival. According to the rules of the previous season, this was the moment where the cast divided up the chores. Connor stepped into the center of the room, wearing a warm, perfectly manufactured smile. “Hailey and I will take care of the cooking. Lexi, how about you and your mom hit the farm and harvest some vegetables? Marcus, would it be too much trouble for you and your girlfriend to wash the produce and prep the rice?” Everyone had just hiked up a mountain. They were exhausted, sprawled across the living room furniture, completely drained. Lexi, a young up-and-coming pop singer, was terrified of being branded “lazy” by the internet. She forced a pained smile. “Sure.” Marcus, a veteran actor who knew exactly how reality TV editing worked, didn’t argue either. Finally, Connor’s gaze landed on Hayes and me. I was curled up deep in the sofa. As the camera panned over, everyone in the room—and the thousands watching online—clearly heard my phone blast an enthusiastic digital voice: “Three of a kind! Read ’em and weep!” “…” Hayes was sitting bolt upright next to me, looking like a nervous middle-schooler on his first day of class. Seeing Connor stare at us, he anxiously tugged my sleeve. “Chloe. Time to work.” I was currently annihilating my opponents in Texas Hold’em. I ignored him. Hayes awkwardly stood up and asked Connor, “Is there anything we can help with?” Connor’s expression softened slightly, thinking he had won. “Would you guys mind taking care of the dishes after lunch?” “All in!” I happily tapped my screen. Without looking up, I said, “Yes, we would mind.” Connor’s brow furrowed. “Lunch is only meaningful if it’s a collaborative group effort.” “Are you out of your mind?” I shifted my weight, starting a new hand. “We eat to stay alive. You’re only standing there acting like the boss because the cameras are rolling and everyone here is too polite to tell you off. Try assigning chores like that in your own house and see if your mom doesn’t slap you across the face.” “…” 08 Connor was visibly suppressing a vein popping in his forehead. “It’s just washing the dishes. You won’t even do something that simple?” I shrugged. “If it’s so simple, you and your sister can do it.” Connor finally snapped. “Everyone else is contributing. Does your conscience really not bother you, sitting there playing games while we work?” “Weren’t you the one handing out the assignments from the jump?” I finally looked up, my expression the picture of innocence. “You’re exploiting their good manners. Don’t try to morally kidnap me, sweetheart. I don’t have any morals to kidnap.” “…” Seeing her brother getting publicly humiliated, Hailey stormed over. “Chloe Sterling! I don’t care if you’re a world-class judge, you don’t get to act like a diva here! You’re contributing nothing! Do you expect us to cook and serve it to you on a silver platter?” Hayes tried to intervene, but hearing Hailey insult me made his protective instincts flare. “My sister isn’t like that!” he argued quietly. The live chat was a warzone: “Chloe’s attitude is absolute trash.” “Is she seriously waiting for them to feed her?” “The Sterling siblings are both leeches. Yuck!” Connor took a deep breath, playing the exhausted martyr. “I’m not obligated to cook for you. Since you refuse to help, you two can figure out your own lunch.” “Figure it out on our own?!” Hayes panicked, looking at me with puppy-dog eyes. “Chloe, I didn’t even know you knew how to turn on a stove!” I stared at him. “Do you know how to wash dishes?” Before he could answer, I rolled my eyes. “You don’t even know how to wash your own socks.” Hayes: “…” Having delivered his ultimatum, Connor led the rest of the cast out to work. I nestled back into the couch and booted up another round of poker. Fifteen minutes later, Lexi returned with a basket, looking miserable. “There are chickens and fish out back, but my mom and I have no idea how to catch them.” Connor glanced at the pathetic pile of greens in her basket and offered a comforting smile. “It’s fine. A vegetarian meal is healthy.” He said that, but when a completely meatless, severely lacking spread of vegetables was finally placed on the dining table, everyone sat there awkwardly, unsure of how to pretend they were excited. Despite the depressing meal, Hailey couldn’t resist a victory lap. “Time to eat! My brother’s cooking is incredible, you guys have to try this.” She cast a pointed, mocking glance toward the living room where Hayes and I were sitting. “Looks like some people are going hungry today. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. I don’t feel sorry for them.” The second the words left her mouth, a booming voice echoed from the front lobby. “Delivery for Chloe Sterling?!” I kicked Hayes’s shin. “Go get it.” He looked bewildered. “Who is it, Chloe?” I was currently calculating pot odds, not looking up. “Oh. Uber Eats.” “…” 09 The dining table was massive, which only made the few plates of sad vegetables look even more pathetic. Hayes and I began unpacking the delivery, and within seconds, we had completely covered our half of the table. Crispy fried chicken, gourmet burgers, loaded spicy bowls, and a mountain of fries. The moment the lids came off, an overpowering, mouth-watering aroma hijacked the entire room. Hailey stared at us, her eyes practically bugging out of her head. “You… you can’t order delivery!” I happily bit into a piece of perfectly fried chicken. “Is there a rule that says I can’t?” Hailey choked. “No one has ever ordered takeout on a reality survival show!” I took a massive sip of my Coke and looked at Hayes. “Is that true?” He took a very polite, reserved bite of his spicy bowl. “Yeah, Chloe. Never.” “Well, whatever. The crew didn’t stop the driver.” Right then, I heard a very distinct, very loud gulp. It was Lexi. There was absolutely no way the two of us could finish this feast. I waved my hand at the others. “Come on over, there’s plenty!” Lexi looked like she might cry from gratitude. “Can we really?” “Of course you can.” By the end of it, even Marcus and his girlfriend had abandoned the boiled cabbage and joined our side of the table. Connor and Hailey’s faces looked like they had just swallowed live wasps. They sat in suffocating silence, glaring daggers at us. Finally, they snapped. They slammed their chopsticks down. “Chloe, you are crossing a line.” I elegantly wiped my mouth with a napkin. “What did I do?” Hailey pointed a trembling finger at the still-massive pile of food. “You ordered way more than you needed! You’re just trying to buy everyone off and isolate us!” I was genuinely speechless at the sheer audacity. I gave her a thumbs up. “Usually, when assholes talk sh*t, it’s just for laughs. But you? You’ve elevated it to an art form.” Hearing that, Hayes nearly dropped his chopsticks, frantically reaching for my arm. “Chloe, don’t—” Unfortunately for him, he forgot one crucial detail about me. When I’m full, I have way too much energy. And when I have too much energy, I like to start fires. 10 Hailey’s eyes instantly welled up with angry tears. Connor rushed to his sister’s defense, his “nice guy” mask slipping. “Chloe, she was just trying to be considerate. She didn’t want to see everyone’s hard work go to waste. You ordered an absurd amount of food for two people. It’s perfectly normal for Hailey to question your motives.” I couldn’t even be bothered to fully open my eyes. “Mind your own business. I spent my own money. What right do you have to police my bank account?” Hearing me indirectly call him a meddling dog, Connor’s perfectly manicured composure shattered. “I was just trying to reason with you! Why do you keep insulting us?” I let out an “Oh,” and looked him dead in the eye, perfectly serious. “Not only will I insult you to your face, but if you’re ever having trouble hearing me, I’ll happily carve it right into your tombstone.” “…” Connor and Hailey stormed off, absolutely seething. Hayes looked like he was preparing for the apocalypse. “We’re dead. Chloe, the audience is definitely calling for our heads right now.” Since I was full and had nothing better to do, I pulled out my phone and opened the livestream. He was right. A massive chunk of the chat was screaming for our blood. “Chloe is so arrogant! Connor was just trying to be a good team player!” “She does zero work and has the audacity to roast people. Where did the producers even find her?” “Get Hayes and Chloe off my screen. They are insufferable.” But surprisingly, a counter-wave was fighting back. “Honestly, she’s not wrong. The show literally didn’t ban delivery.” “Yeah, our poor Lexi was exhausted and still forced to go pick vegetables. It was hard to watch.” “Marcus is a total carnivore. Forcing him to eat plain lettuce is a crime against humanity.” “Am I the only one who thinks Chloe is kind of a badass LMAO. I think I’m falling in love.” I watched the scrolling text for two seconds, then leaned over and whispered to Hayes. “Did you actually steal Connor’s debut spot? Did Dad pull strings for you?” Hayes looked horrified. “No! I snuck off to do the show behind Dad’s back. I would never dare ask him to rig it.” “Then how did you…” “I honestly have no idea! During the initial evaluations, I was graded a ‘D’. Then the second ranking hit and suddenly I had hundreds of thousands of votes. They confiscated our phones, so I didn’t even know who was voting for me. I was completely clueless when they announced I was second.” 11 That afternoon, Connor loudly rallied the rest of the cast to go explore the resort grounds. Noticeably, he didn’t invite Hayes and me. We were currently huddled on the couch, scrolling through the voting analytics and comment sections from his time in the survival show’s boot camp. Connor and Hailey shot us looks of supreme pity before they left, treating us like absolute idiots. I knew exactly what they were thinking. Going out meant the drones and the main crew would follow them, guaranteeing maximum screen time and traffic. By staying in the hotel, we were actively sabotaging our own relevance. Connor practically strutted out the door. At 2:00 PM, after we had finished combing through the data, I shot Hayes a look. Hayes hesitated. “Chloe, is this really a good idea…?” “Hurry up. Stop stalling.” He took a deep breath and opened an app on his phone. At the exact same moment, I turned to the single, stationary camera left in the living room. “Hayes and I are going live on IG right now. Room 645183. Come through if you’re interested.” Live chat: ??? Three seconds later, a tidal wave of viewers crashed into the livestream. Hayes and I were comfortably lounging on the couch, cracking sunflower seeds. I watched the chaotic blur of the chat and smiled. “Slow down, ask one at a time. No need to rush.” There were thousands of people, and the vast majority opened with immediate, aggressive insults. I casually multi-tasked, banning accounts with one hand while addressing them with the other. “Your mouth is pretty filthy. Did you forget to wipe after you talked out of your ass?” Once I had thoroughly terrified the chat into a semblance of order, I started picking questions. Chat: “How do you justify your brother stealing Connor’s debut spot?” I countered with a question of my own. “If you beat the guy in second place, what place are you in?” Chat: “First.” I nodded. “Exactly. Connor ranked twelfth. Why aren’t you going after him for being completely useless and failing to beat the guy in eleventh place? What does his failure have to do with my brother?” Chat: “…Wait, that kind of makes sense?” Chat: “But Hayes can’t even sing or dance! He didn’t deserve to debut. If they kicked him out, Connor would have made the cut!” Their questions were sharp, and Hayes looked at me like a kicked puppy. I shifted my weight, a mocking smile playing on my lips. “Are you guys all Connor’s diehard fans?” Chat: “No, we’re just casual viewers! We just hate seeing injustice.” I laughed out loud. “So, casual viewers are allowed to hate my brother, but casual viewers aren’t allowed to like him? If random people can passionately defend Connor, why couldn’t random people passionately vote for Hayes to debut?” A few commenters panicked. “Hayes has no talent! What would casual viewers even like about him?” “His face,” I stated, completely deadpan. “If Connor’s aggressively average, tragically rushed face can somehow attract fans, why wouldn’t people vote for someone as gorgeous as my brother? Since when is being hot a crime?” Chat: “…Okay, fair point.” Because, objectively speaking, Hayes’s face was a lethal weapon.

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When my parents finally found me, I played dumb. Three parts innocent, seven parts naive—I looked exactly like the real missing heiress. That’s right. I was a counterfeit. Because I looked more like them than their actual biological daughter, they mistook me for her. In my past life, I told them the truth. In return, my limbs were severed, and I died a miserable, agonizing death in a foreign land. This time, I decided to play the fool. I became the true heiress of the Sterling corporate empire. 1 When the Sterling family pulled up to the orphanage in their luxury car, a crowd immediately gathered. They held a DNA report in their hands, pointed at a picture of me in an album, and told the director: “That’s her. Our daughter, Harper.” Shocked, the director immediately sent someone to my high school to fetch me. At that moment, I was huddled in an alleyway outside the school, clutching my textbooks to my chest while being kicked and punched. Seeing someone approach, the group of rainbow-haired punks scattered without a trace. I stood up, looked at Griffin—who had easily tracked me down just like he did in my past life—dusted off my jeans, and followed him back. When Mrs. Sterling saw my battered state, taking in the bloody scratches on my face, she burst into tears. “Harper, do you remember Mommy? It’s all my fault. I didn’t watch you closely enough and let you get lost when you were five.” I looked at her with feigned confusion, purposefully letting the faint scar on my forehead show through my messy bangs. Seeing the scar, Mrs. Sterling grew so emotional she lunged forward and grabbed my hands. “Harper! Do you remember how you got that scar on your head?” I touched my forehead, pretending to search my memories. “I think… when I was really little, I was playing hide-and-seek with my brother… and I tripped on the stairs…” Then I clutched my head, acting as if the memory was causing me excruciating pain, making Mr. and Mrs. Sterling’s hearts ache. Mrs. Sterling pulled me into a tight embrace, gently patting my back. “Shh, sweet girl. Don’t think about it anymore. Mommy knows—you are our daughter!” Just like that, I followed them home and became the heiress of the Sterling Group. 2 My real name was Joy. It was the name given to me by the orphanage. When I was five, my grandmother had clutched a few crumpled dollar bills and gone out to buy me a birthday cake. It rained on her way back. The dirt road was slick, and she slipped, falling into a deep, muddy ditch by the road. She never got back up. My grandmother died, and I became an orphan. I arrived at the gates of the Sunbeam Orphanage, pretending to be a lost child. That same day, the true Sterling heiress, Bliss, also arrived at the orphanage. Because we looked so remarkably alike and were the exact same age, we were constantly mistaken for twins. In our past life, the private investigator accidentally mixed up our toothbrushes. So, when Mrs. Sterling mistakenly identified me, I corrected the error, allowing them to find the real Bliss. Bliss had put on a show of sisterly affection, begging me to go with her to the Sterling estate and continue being her “sister.” As a result, I even secretly returned the $100,000 “thank you” check Mrs. Sterling had given me back to Bliss. I thought she was grateful that I hadn’t stolen her identity. I didn’t realize it was merely the beginning of her pushing me into the abyss. First, she spilled hot tea on herself and framed me for it. Later, she pushed Mrs. Sterling down a flight of stairs, planted the blame on me since I was standing nearby, and successfully got me kicked out of the Sterling house. On the eve of my SATs, she tricked me into coming out under the guise of “talking things out,” got me blackout drunk, and tossed me to a group of local street thugs. When I woke up, I wanted to die from the shame, but she held the video of my assault over my head, threatening to release it if I breathed a word. With the SATs the next morning, I had no choice but to swallow my trauma. On the day the test scores were released, I discovered I was pregnant. On my way to an underground clinic, I drank a bottle of water she had tampered with. I collapsed. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was her cold, mocking stare. She said, “If you want to blame someone, blame your own miserable fate!” When I woke up, I was locked inside a cage. In a dark, damp warehouse, dozens of rusting iron cages held dozens of women with swollen bellies. I instantly understood what nightmare awaited me. I refused to accept my fate. I tried to escape three times. The final time, they chopped off my hands and feet, leaving me to bleed out in agonizing pain. But the wheel of fate turned, and I was reborn! Since God gave me a second chance, I was going to seize it and return every ounce of humiliation she subjected me to! I woke up at age sixteen. I spent a year meticulously recreating a scar on my forehead identical to Bliss’s. Since I looked more like a Sterling than she did, I would simply take her place and become the corporate heiress. 3 The day I stepped back into the Sterling mansion, I was treated like royalty. Mrs. Sterling immediately enrolled me in an elite prep school in Beverly Hills, donating an entire library wing to ensure the school took “special care” of me, especially regarding my grades. However, when my initial placement test scores came back, Mrs. Sterling realized she had severely underestimated me. In my past life, once Bliss was brought home, she cared about nothing but designer clothes, luxury shoes, and Birkin bags, causing her grades to plummet. I, on the other hand, fully utilized the elite tutors the Sterlings provided, eventually securing a spot in a top-tier Ivy League university. It was just a pity that in my past life, I didn’t get to finish my education. Delighted by my perfect grades, Mrs. Sterling eagerly asked what else I wanted to learn. Since my posture was lacking, I hired a ballet instructor to correct it. I didn’t know how to play an instrument, so I hired a master harpist. I also wanted to secure a foothold in the Sterling Group, so I frequently sought out Mr. Sterling to discuss business management and corporate strategy. I was naturally brilliant and progressed at lightning speed. The way Mr. and Mrs. Sterling looked at me grew increasingly full of pride and absolute adoration. A month later, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling invited the upper crust of Beverly Hills to my official welcome banquet. The crowd expected a rough, uncultured orphan. Instead, I descended the stairs in a stunning white fringed gown, mesmerizing the entire room. At the banquet, I spotted Emmett Vance standing next to my brother, Carter. He looked exceptionally dashing. Emmett was the sole heir of the Vance family, an old-money dynasty from New York. In my past life, the moment Bliss laid eyes on Emmett, she was entirely captivated and swore she would marry no one else. Mrs. Sterling had laughed, teasing her for thinking about marriage before she was even an adult. Heh. What you begged for and couldn’t have in the last life, I will claim in this one. “Carter!” My voice was clear and bright. As expected, both men turned their heads to look at me simultaneously. 4 “Who is this? Is he a classmate of yours?” I asked curiously. Carter was about to shake his head when I saw Emmett subtly tap Carter’s shoe with his toe. Carter immediately nodded. “Yeah! A college buddy, Emmett.” I smiled sweetly and extended my hand. “Hi there! I’m Harper!” Emmett hesitated for a split second before shaking my hand. And just like that, Emmett and I were officially acquainted. A lie often requires a hundred more lies to cover it up. Since Emmett claimed to be Carter’s classmate, he found himself flying to Beverly Hills constantly because I sought my brother out for “advice” almost every week. Carter was studying finance. Since Mr. Sterling was often too busy to mentor me, I naturally had to consult my big brother. “Emmett, look! I brought you your favorite cold-brew tea.” In my past life, Bliss was utterly obsessed with marrying Emmett. She spent an exorbitant amount of time discovering his preferences, learning he exclusively drank a specific, custom-blended cold-brew tea. Rumor had it, it was the exact recipe his mother used to make for him when he was little. Sadly, his mother had passed away years ago. The day Bliss finally perfected the recipe, I had the misfortune of witnessing the entire process. I smiled and handed him the tea I had prepared myself. Emmett drank it happily, his eyes sparkling as he looked at me. “Harper’s craftsmanship is the best. Man, when you get married one day, I won’t be able to drink tea this good anymore!” Emmett teased me between sips. I didn’t say anything; I just smiled. Carter, however, chimed in from the side: “What’s the big deal? Just marry my sister, and you can drink it until you’re old and gray, right into your grave—ow! What did you hit me for?!” Emmett flicked Carter hard on the forehead, his face turning serious. “Harper is still young. Don’t joke around about her like that.” Carter rubbed his head, muttering, “She’s not that young, she’s almost eighteen…” I kept my head down, realizing that Emmett’s feelings for me hadn’t quite reached the level of love yet. 5 With the Sterling family’s backing and resources, I performed even better than in my past life and was accepted into Harvard’s finance program. On move-in day in Massachusetts, Emmett was the one who picked me up. I peeked behind him, a little confused. “Where’s my brother?” Emmett gritted his teeth. “He drank too much last night. He’s still passed out!” Carter had a famously high alcohol tolerance. There was no way he got drunk that easily. My phone chimed. I opened it to find a “You got this!” meme sent by Carter. I instantly understood. My little maneuvers hadn’t escaped my brother’s notice; he was playing wingman. College life was vibrant and exciting—something I never got to experience in my past life. I continuously applied the knowledge I learned, gradually taking over a portion of the Sterling Group’s East Coast branch operations. I balanced my studies and corporate work with ease. The only thing I couldn’t completely manage was Emmett. Perhaps afraid of blowing his cover, he rarely visited me on campus. But whenever I was at the branch office handling business, I always seemed to catch sight of him. We saw each other almost once a week. A year passed like this. Just as I thought our relationship was naturally blossoming into romance, he brought a girl to my birthday party. He introduced her to me: “Penny, this is my little sister, Harper.” I pressed my lips together, suppressing the sudden, sharp twist in my chest. “Emmett, who is she?” Emmett replied, “Penelope. We grew up together.” “Oh, so you’re childhood sweethearts…” I forced a smile, projecting what I thought was an aura of gentle, gracious elegance to welcome Penelope, completely missing the flicker of something strange in Emmett’s eyes. 6 I started intentionally avoiding Emmett. But oddly enough, we ran into each other even more than before. He kept calling me his “little sister” like always, and even brought a few more so-called “childhood friends” to introduce to me. On the day of the first snow, I agreed to go to a concert with a senior who had been relentlessly pursuing me. After the concert, with my tacit permission, he affectionately reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Just as he leaned in to kiss me, he was violently shoved aside by Emmett, who had been following us. The romantic atmosphere shattered. Furious, the senior blurted out, “Are you crazy?!” But when he got a clear look at Emmett’s face, he panicked. “V-Vance? What are you doing here?” Emmett’s brow was heavily furrowed. He stared at the senior and spat out every word: “Get the hell out of here.” The senior looked at me, looked at Emmett, seemed to suddenly realize something, turned around, and bolted. I glared at Emmett, visibly angry, demanding a reasonable explanation. Instead, he took my hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. I froze in place. He looked at me with a perfectly feigned expression of distress. “Oh no, the back of your hand accidentally touched my lips. What should we do? I guess I have no choice but to take responsibility for you!” 7 Two years later, Emmett and I were engaged. He had dropped his “college buddy” disguise the night of the first snow. I deployed award-winning acting skills—first acting shocked, then angry, and finally making him and my brother pay a hefty, metaphorical price before letting them off the hook. At our engagement party, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling were surrounded by the Beverly Hills elite. “Mr. Sterling, you are truly blessed! Not only is your daughter incredibly brilliant, but she also landed the heir to the Vance family!” The Sterling family was always considered “third-tier” among the ultra-wealthy circle. After today, with the Vance family backing them, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling could walk completely unopposed in high society. Half a year ago, when I told them I was getting engaged to Emmett, Mrs. Sterling smiled so hard she gained a few new laugh lines. Mr. Sterling was even more direct—he immediately transferred 5% of the corporate shares to me and promised another 5% the day we officially tied the knot. I accepted with a smile, becoming a bona fide shareholder of the Sterling Group. The engagement of the sole heir of the New York Vance dynasty trended heavily online. The internet was flooded with photos of Emmett and me. And as the leading lady of this spectacle, I naturally caught the attention of someone lurking in the shadows. One day, an issue arose at corporate headquarters requiring all shareholders to be present. Halfway through the board meeting, we were interrupted by an employee bursting through the doors. The employee’s hesitant gaze fell on me before they spoke: “Mr. Sterling, there’s a girl causing a scene in the lobby. She claims she is your real daughter, and says if you don’t come down, she’s going to slit her wrists right there!” 8 The meeting was suspended, and a group of us headed down to the lobby. There stood a girl who looked 70% to 80% identical to me, holding a fruit knife to her wrist. She was screaming hysterically: “Bring your CEO down here right now! I am his real daughter! The one you have up there is a counterfeit!” Two security guards stood by, trying to talk her down, having already sent someone to notify the board. She pointed the blade at the guards and roared, “I told you to get him half an hour ago! Where is he?!” Someone from the crowd yelled, “If you keep this up, we’re calling the cops!” Bliss laughed at that. “Call them! It’ll be perfect to have the cops drag that fake imposter out of the building!” Her absolute certainty caused the whispering crowd to hesitate. “The CEO is here!” A sharp-eyed employee shouted, cutting through the gossip. Bliss obviously heard it too and looked our way. The moment she laid eyes on me, the hatred in her eyes exploded. Gripping the knife, she charged straight at me: “Joy, you bitch, go to hell!” Joy and Bliss—the names the orphanage had given us. The knife was sharp, glinting coldly. I stood frozen in place, acting as if I was paralyzed by fear. Seeing this, Mr. Sterling immediately yanked me behind him to protect me. Mid-charge, someone in the crowd stuck out a foot and tripped her. Bliss crashed to the floor, taking a long time to scramble back up. She looked up at Mr. Sterling—who was fiercely guarding me—her eyes brimming with tears: “Dad, it’s me, Bliss! Don’t you remember me?” Saying that, she swept her bangs aside, revealing the scar on her forehead. Mr. Sterling looked disgusted. “Don’t think faking a scar makes you my daughter!” But standing right next to him, I clearly saw his hand tremble the moment he saw that mark. Of course it did. They were biological father and daughter, after all. Blood is a mysterious thing; Mr. Sterling was undoubtedly harboring suspicions now. I decided to go with the flow. I pointed to the media reporters who were already rushing over, attracted by the commotion. “Dad, let’s take her home first. The press is here. Having a scene in front of corporate headquarters is a PR nightmare.” 9 In the Sterling living room sat Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, myself, and Bliss. Carter had rushed back the moment he got the news. When he saw me and Bliss sitting there, he froze in his tracks. “Th-Mom, did you actually give birth to twins?” After arriving at the house, Bliss had stormed into my room, washed up, and changed into a set of my clothes before coming downstairs. Freshly cleaned up, sitting quietly next to me, we looked exactly like identical twins. Hearing Carter’s words, the hostility in her eyes flared instantly: “Carter! Are you blind? I’m your real sister!” “What twins? She’s a shameless, lying bitch!” “A low-life mutt with no identity who dared to steal my life and usurp my place as the Sterling heiress!” “Mom, Dad, throw this bitch out on the street!” The older Sterling generations were highly educated, refined people. Mr. and Mrs. Sterling were over fifty, and no one had ever spoken such vulgarities in their presence. Mr. Sterling slammed his hand on the table, enraged. “Shut your mouth!” Bliss jumped, shrinking her neck back like a frightened quail. “Your mother only gave birth to one girl. There are no twins.” Mr. Sterling sighed heavily and looked at me. “Harper, what do you think?” I put on a highly conflicted expression. “Since Bliss insists she is the real Harper, why don’t we… just do another DNA test?” The moment I said that, Bliss clapped her hands in agreement. But Mr. Sterling sharply replied, “Absolutely not!”

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