Category: English

We were in the middle of a reshoot for our wedding photos when my husband, Larry, suddenly suggested I change my hair color. I refused without thinking. “My boss is pretty strict about professional appearance. No bright or distracting colors allowed.” But he was already warming to his subject. “Just get that ash brown with hazel tones. Indoors, it looks like a soft brunette, I promise your boss would never notice! It would look amazing with your fair skin… even better after it fades a little…” My prolonged silence seemed to jolt him. The tender, gentle look on his face vanished in an instant. I stared at him, my voice flat. “Impressive. You’re quite the expert on what the young girls are into these days.” 1 Larry’s smile froze on his lips. “Ah, well, I happened to be looking into it for a research project.” But the way his thumb worried at his index finger gave him away completely. I’ve known him since we were kids running around in diapers; I could see his panic as clearly as if it were written on his forehead. I forced a smile, pretending it was just a casual question. “Is that so? Well, I need to get changed.” Larry let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and stood up to leave. He moved so quickly he almost forgot his laptop, the one he treated like his second wife. I locked the door and immediately opened his laptop, clicking on his messaging app. Spotless. Clean as a whistle. Even his chat logs with a student from four years ago were still there. Yet my gut was screaming at me, a blaring alarm that something was deeply wrong. Just then, a notification popped up from his banking app. A charge for $188. An order from a flower shop. But Larry hated what he called “all that sentimental nonsense.” A morbid curiosity took over. I clicked on his transaction history, and a long, crimson list of charges filled the screen. A recurring payment of $459, $637—popped up on holidays… The first transaction was six months ago. I suddenly remembered him bringing home a bouquet of roses that day, claiming the shop was having a sale. The shop had a quaint, elegant name: The Bloom Room. A knock on the door made me jump. I quickly closed everything, changed my clothes, and opened it. Larry strode over to his laptop, and only after seeing that everything was as he’d left it did he smile at me. “I’ll wait for you outside.” While the makeup artist worked on my face, I searched for the flower shop’s name on Instagram. I couldn’t find a business profile, but I did find a personal account with the same handle, a page filled with sentimental quotes. The profile picture was of two hands coming together to form a heart. On one of those hands, I saw a ring. A ring I designed myself. A one-of-a-kind wedding band, our wedding band. The blood drained from my face. I dug my nails into my palm, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. I scrolled through the feed, and each post was a dagger to my heart. Under a sprawling oak tree, a red ribbon with two names tied to a branch fluttered in the wind. The caption read: He said he loves me, till death do us part. I guess we’ll let time be the judge. On a sun-drenched prairie, the two of them were nestled together, a hastily packed tent behind them: Witnessed by the sky and the earth, we are husband and wife. He promised he’d make up for everything he owes me. In a charming, rustic town, inside an old artisan shop, they were leaning in close, weaving a large, intricate lover’s knot: The owner said we look so much like a married couple, she asked us to be the shop’s promotional models. Of course, we said yes! I remembered how Larry had tossed aside the detailed travel itinerary I’d spent all night creating, scoffing that traveling was just “swapping one place you’re sick of for another.” He’d mocked me for wanting to “donate my GDP to other cities.” But here he was, the man who had used business trips as an excuse to travel the country with her. The most recent post was from this morning, posted in the dead of night: My stomach acted up in the middle of the night, and he dropped everything to come make me soup. It’s true what they say: the one who is truly loved can get away with anything! The accompanying photo showed a man’s forearm, sleeves rolled up, a pink apron tied around his waist. A few strands of long, ash-brown hair rested on his shoulder, a searing brand on my eyes. I thought back to this morning, to the exhaustion on his face when he came back from his “run,” carrying those specific, tiny croissants from that one bakery across town. How had he explained it away? “I know you love them, so I went to wait in line for you at dawn.” The pain was physical. The words and photos morphed into a thousand sharp blades, stabbing me over and over. Every little thing about Larry that had felt off suddenly made perfect, horrible sense. The man who always preached that “a gentleman stays away from the kitchen” had suddenly developed a keen interest in herbal soups and remedies. The small, unexplained cuts that would occasionally appear on his forearms. A wave of nausea churned in my stomach. I bolted for the restroom and retched, the tears finally breaking free, streaming down my face. Three years of marriage, and another woman’s mark was seared onto his heart. 2 After the photoshoot, I told Larry I had to go to the office and went straight to the airport instead. My destination: that hundred-year-old artisan shop in the charming, rustic town. Larry had often praised the exquisite craftsmanship of traditional arts. Thanks to him, even though the shop was hidden away in a winding alley, I found it without much trouble. Rows of tourist photos were displayed by the entrance. In the very center was a picture of Larry, his face radiating a gentle warmth. His eyes held a light I knew all too well, and the large lover’s knot in his hands obscured the lower half of the woman’s face beside him. Here, a thousand miles away from me, the love overflowing from his heart no longer needed to be hidden. I stood there for a long time, just looking, a faint smile on my face as tears streamed down my cheeks. The shopkeeper approached me cautiously. “Ma’am, are you alright?” I wiped my eyes. “This is my husband,” I said, my voice steady. “He passed away. I wanted to take the photo home as a memento.” The shopkeeper’s jaw dropped. Then, in a sudden burst of anger, she began pulling down several other decorative knots from the wall and shoving them into my arms. “They wove strands of their own hair into these! Talking some poetic nonsense about being bound together for eternity! Ugh, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, that one!” “They even buried a bottle of wine in my backyard,” she fumed. “Said you have to prepare for a daughter’s future wedding day in advance!” They had told her they were a married couple, hoping to start a family. They had rented a pricey little cottage nearby, and every evening they would walk hand-in-hand along the river, always carrying candy to give to the children they met. They were so at ease, so natural, a perfect picture of a married couple. … Before I left town, I made one last stop at the salon where she’d had her hair dyed. The owner remembered them vividly, gushing about how Larry was the most patient man she’d ever seen, not once looking at his phone the entire time they were there. But on that exact day, I had been burning up with a high fever. I had called him over a dozen times, but there was no answer. He only called back in the middle of the night, saying he’d been busy with work, his phone on silent. He certainly was busy. Busy pampering his mistress behind his wife’s back. I took photos and recorded everything, then wiped away my tears and headed home. The moment he saw me, the kitchen knife in Larry’s hand clattered to the floor. He looked like he’d seen a ghost, and it took him a long moment to choke out my name. “Nikki?” I ran a hand through my hair and held out the lover’s knot. “Surprised?” His panic intensified, his voice trembling. “What surprise?” “The hair color you recommended, the artisan shop… they really are quite nice.” I tilted my head. “Why do you look like that? Did you do something to feel guilty about?” He instinctively looked down, unable to meet my gaze. But the thumb on his right hand was rubbing furiously against his index finger, the skin already turning red. I remained silent, my eyes locked on him. I wasn’t sure what I felt more—anger, or a desperate hope for something, anything. But after a long, tense silence, all he managed was a dry, “I’m tired.” In that instant, something inside me died. I dodged the kiss he leaned in for, muttering an excuse about a conference call, and fled the house. He stood there, stunned for a second, before rushing after me. “At least have something to eat first! I made that savory yam and pork porridge you like…” My phone buzzed. It was a voice message from him. “Come home early. Tomorrow is Grandma’s eightieth birthday.” I replied without emotion. “I’m staying at the office tonight.” A birthday celebration? Of course, I would go. But first, there was somewhere more important I needed to be. 3 The Bloom Room. It was ten o’clock at night, but the shop was brightly lit. Through the large glass window, I watched the girl inside. She was wearing a simple linen dress, her features delicate and pretty without a touch of makeup, possessing a sort of fragile, pitiable beauty. So this was the type Larry really liked. But when he was chasing me, he’d sworn he loved my bright, vibrant energy, that I was like a little sun that had warmed his heart. I shook my head with a bitter smile. A person’s heart can change, so why not their taste? She was cooing at a small puppy, talking to herself. She seemed to be smiling, but her voice was thick with unshed tears. “Coco, Daddy said he’s not coming tonight. Tomorrow is Grandma’s birthday, but he doesn’t want to take Mommy to see her.” “He’s hiding something from me, Coco. But Mommy is a coward. I’m too scared to pull back the curtain and see what’s there.” A few teardrops fell silently onto the puppy’s fur. Just like my completely shattered heart. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. “If you don’t pull it back, how will you ever know what’s hiding behind it?” The girl scrambled to wipe her face and offered a shy, flustered smile. “I’m so sorry, you had to see that. Welcome.” I fought back the ache in my own chest and feigned curiosity. “Is something wrong? Are you having a tough time?” Maybe it was the pitter-patter of the rain outside that sparked her desire to confide, or maybe the simple fact that I was another woman made her trust me. After a moment’s hesitation, her story came tumbling out. “My boyfriend and I have been together for six months,” she began, her expression troubled. “He’s so good to me—caring, attentive, and he’s not afraid to spend money on me. My mom doesn’t approve. She says a man his age—he’s eight years older—is either married or divorced. But last month, when my lease was up, he bought this flower shop for me outright. He said it was an engagement gift.” I thought my heart couldn’t break any further. But seeing the sweet, unconscious smile that spread across her face as she spoke, it felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart, twisting it relentlessly. It was hard to breathe, but I forced myself to ask, “That sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?” Lost in her own sorrow, she didn’t notice my distress. “Later, my parents said they wanted him to come over for dinner. But he refused, flat out. He always says he’s worried people will judge him for our age gap, so he never introduces me to anyone he knows. And the worst part is, tomorrow is his grandmother’s eightieth birthday, and he won’t let me go. No matter how upset I get, he just says he’ll pass along my well-wishes for me.” Her voice cracked. “Am I that much of an embarrassment to him? Or maybe… maybe I’m just his… mistress.” She choked on the last word, the shame clear on her face. So, just like me, she was another fool being played by Larry. I stared at the raw vulnerability on her face, and all the sharp, cutting words I had prepared suddenly felt hollow. In the end, I simply wrote down the address for the birthday dinner, left it on the counter, and turned to leave. The rain was coming down harder now. Suddenly, a familiar figure dashed past me. He was in such a hurry he didn’t even see me huddled in the shadows. “Claire, I’m so sorry I’m late!” I heard him call out. “Look, I had our picture made into a little desktop frame. Do you like it?” The girl’s voice, now filled with surprised delight, rang out. “It’s beautiful! When did you have this done?” “The other day, when I went to get my… my ID photo taken, I had the shop make it specially…” Rain streamed down my face, mingling with my tears. My car arrived. It was time for me to go.

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1 My friend and I were just about to leave dinner when a man blocked our path, insisting I pay the bill for another table. I refused, telling him I didn’t know them. The man exploded. “Don’t you get it? I’m doing you a favor letting you pay my bill! You got a death wish, disrespecting the Rhodes Corporation in this city?” Before I could say a word, his arrogance swelled. “You know who I am? I’m the husband of Lilah Rhodes, the CEO of Rhodes Corporation! Scared now, huh?” I paused for a second, then pulled out my phone and dialed Lilah. “So, I hear you have another husband at the office?” … The moment I hung up, the man, completely unhinged, snatched my phone and smashed it on the floor. “You think calling for backup will save you? I’ll make sure you never walk out of this restaurant.” “Hey, back off!” My best friend, Edward Convery, pulled me behind him. “Is this how Rhodes Corporation handles its business? Cornering strangers to pay your tab, then getting violent?” The man’s face flushed a deep red at Edward’s challenge. “Business? In New York City, the Rhodes name is business!” he sneered. “I tell you to pay, it’s a privilege, understand?” “You want to talk about rules? My word is the rule here!” I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as I looked up at him. “Let’s call you by your name. Dylan Shaw, right? Big as the Rhodes Corporation is, I doubt they taught you how to be a common mugger.” Dylan sneered, planting his foot on a nearby chair like a low-life thug. “I’m giving you a chance to climb the ladder, you idiot! People are lining up to buy me dinner, and I wouldn’t even give them the time of day!” A chance to climb the ladder. Since when did the Cole family need to climb anyone’s ladder in this city? I glanced at Edward, whose expression had turned grim. Even a scion of the DC elite like him couldn’t have imagined being bullied like this in New York by some suit from a second-rate corporation. Dylan let out a derisive snort and waved toward the entrance. “Listen up! In this city, I, Dylan Shaw, call the shots! Grab these two morons who don’t know their place!” As soon as the words left his mouth, seven or eight men in black suits swarmed in, instantly surrounding us. Edward instinctively tried to shield me, his fists already clenched. But he was outnumbered. Before he could even throw a punch, two of the guards had his arms pinned behind his back. “Edward!” I started to rush forward, but a sharp blow to the back of my neck sent my vision spiraling into darkness. Through the haze, I saw Edward struggling, spitting out a curse before a fist slammed into the side of his face. A trickle of blood immediately seeped from the corner of his mouth. I was shoved to the floor, forced to watch as Dylan kicked Edward square in the stomach, his voice a torrent of abuse. “You dare stick your nose in my business? Today, I’ll teach you both that the Rhodes name is not to be trifled with!” The bodyguards’ punches landed on me with dull, throbbing pain. Edward had just come to the city for a good time, and now he was caught in this senseless mess. My voice was hoarse as I yelled, “Dylan Shaw, I’m the one who’s legally married to Lilah Rhodes. My name is Ethan Cole.” I pointed a shaky finger at Edward, who was still pinned to the ground. “And he is Edward Convery, of the Convery family in D.C.! You let us go now, and we can still walk away from this!” At my words, Dylan’s foot froze mid-air. Then he burst into laughter. “Lilah’s husband? A Convery? Did you two get hit a little too hard in the head?” The people at his table erupted in laughter. “Everyone knows the VP, Mr. Shaw, is the boss’s man.” “This guy’s got some nerve, making up stories like that.” “The Convery family? From D.C.? Never heard of them. Probably just pulled the name out of thin air to scare us.” Dylan leaned down, his fingers digging into my chin, his eyes filled with menace. “Say you’re her husband one more time, and I’ll break your arm right now. I’m going to teach you what’s real and what’s fake. Only I get to say her name. And I’m the only man for her.” Edward, still pinned to the floor with blood trickling from his lip, managed a sarcastic smirk. “Well, Ethan, my friend, looks like this marriage of yours has been a complete waste. The other guy is claiming your wife right to your face, and you’re the one left looking like a fool.” His words startled a laugh out of me, but mine was laced with fury. While Dylan’s grip was still tight on my chin, I whipped my head to the side and sank my teeth into his wrist. He howled in pain, his hand flying open. I used the momentum to drive my knee hard into the groin of the guard behind me. As he doubled over in agony, I grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table and smashed it over the head of the other guard holding me. By the time Dylan recovered, I was on him, my fist connecting squarely with his face. The sudden counter-attack stunned him. He staggered back, blood gushing from his nose. “You son of a bitch, you hit me?!” Dylan roared, a mix of shock and rage on his face. He lunged at me, but I caught his arm, twisted it, and threw him to the floor. I straddled him, raining punch after punch. The Rhodes Corporation employees at his table, reeking of alcohol, scrambled to pull me off. “You’re attacking VP Shaw? You want to die?” Somehow, Edward had broken free. He kicked away a man lunging at me and roared, “Give him hell, Ethan! I’ve never been so disrespected in my entire life!” In the chaos, someone smashed a chair across my back. I grunted in pain but didn’t stop. Dylan was screaming, clawing wildly at my hair. “Rhodes security! Take him down! I’ll take responsibility for whatever happens! Triple bonuses for everyone!” The employees surged forward like a crazed mob, grabbing my arms, wrapping their arms around my waist, one of them kicking at the back of my knees. As I was being pulled back, Dylan saw his chance and kicked me hard in the stomach. I stumbled back, and just as I was about to charge again, a sharp voice cut through the chaos from the restaurant entrance. “Everybody freeze!” Two uniformed police officers pushed their way in. They surveyed the wreckage, their brows furrowed. But when their eyes landed on the bruised and battered Dylan Shaw on the floor, their expressions changed instantly. “Mr. Shaw? What are you doing here? What’s going on?” one of the officers, a portly man, asked, his voice dripping with deference as he hurried to help Dylan up. Seeing the police, Dylan acted as if his saviors had arrived. He pointed a trembling finger at me and Edward. “Officer Wang! These two lunatics from out of town! They refused to pay, then they started a fight! Look what they did to me! And my employees! They’re all injured!” The portly cop glanced at our own cuts and bruises and dismissed them completely. He turned on us, his face a mask of authority. “What do you two think you’re doing? Brawling in broad daylight and assaulting employees of the Rhodes Corporation? You’ve got a lot of nerve!” “He was the one who started it,” Edward said, spitting out a mouthful of blood. “He tried to force us to pay his bill and attacked us first.” “Nonsense!” Dylan shot back immediately. “I was just offering them a chance to get on the good side of the Rhodes name, and they threw it back in my face! They even had the audacity to impersonate my wife’s husband and someone from some big-shot D.C. family.” The portly cop clearly bought his story, gesturing at the shattered glass and overturned tables. “Regardless, you beat him up like this and trashed the place. You’re clearly in the wrong! Let me tell you something, in this city, everyone shows respect to the Rhodes Corporation! Mr. Shaw is Ms. Rhodes’ right-hand man. You mess with him, you’re disrespecting Rhodes, and you’re messing with the way things work in New York!” The other officer, a thin man, was already dangling a pair of handcuffs. “Enough talk. You’re coming with us. Oh, and you’ll be covering Mr. Shaw’s bill, the damages to the restaurant, his medical bills, and his emotional distress. Then, maybe if you get on your knees and apologize, Mr. Shaw might consider letting this go.” “On what grounds?” I laughed, the sound sharp with disbelief. “He started this, and you’re just going to convict us without even asking what happened?” “On the grounds that you’re from out of town!” the portly cop waved his hand dismissively. “You’re in our city, you play by our rules. Mr. Shaw letting you pay his bill was an honor. Don’t be an ungrateful punk!” Edward sneered. “I’d love to see if this city’s ‘rules’ are above the actual law.” “Oh, a tough guy, huh?” The thin officer stepped forward to cuff me. “Looks like you need to be taught a lesson!” I sidestepped him, which only enraged him further. He whipped out a taser, the crackle of electricity filling the air. “You want to do this the hard way?” he said, jabbing it toward me. “Fine by me. You’ll be begging for mercy by the time you see a jail cell.” A jolt of pure energy seared through my limbs. My whole body went numb, and I almost collapsed. Edward caught me, his eyes blazing. “Are you out of your mind? That’s abuse of power!” “Abuse of power? I’m just doing my job,” the portly cop shot back, pulling out his own taser and pointing it at Edward. “In this city, Rhodes business is everyone’s business. People like you who don’t know their place need to be taught a lesson in respect!” Edward let out a choked grunt as the electricity hit him, the acrid smell of ozone filling the air. “You power-tripping pieces of trash… you’ll regret this…” he gasped. “Regret it?” The cop’s grin widened. He used his baton to lift Edward’s chin. “You can regret it all you want while you’re getting your ass beat in a cell every day.” He turned to Dylan with a fawning smile. “Mr. Shaw, how’s that? Should we turn it up a notch for you?” Dylan watched, smug and satisfied. “Yeah, give them some more. They need to learn who’s in charge here.” The portly cop gave me a kick for good measure, then bowed to Dylan. “Mr. Shaw, if you don’t mind me asking, when is Ms. Rhodes due? My partner and I would love to send a proper gift to congratulate you both.” The thin cop nodded eagerly. “Absolutely! We’d be honored to share in your joy. Maybe Ms. Rhodes could even put in a good word for us, you know?” At the mention of this, Dylan’s chest puffed out. “About four or five months to go. We had it checked. It’s a boy.” Lilah… pregnant… The words hit me like a physical blow. I had been away on a business trip for six months, just recently returned to the city, and Lilah… she was already having a baby. Rage flooded my system. We had been married for two years, and every time I brought up having kids, she’d use her busy schedule at the company as an excuse to put it off. I struggled to my feet. Seeing me move, the thin cop prepared to tase me again, aiming the prongs right for the back of my neck. The electricity made my vision swim, and I nearly went down again. Seeing his chance, Dylan grabbed a nearby stool, ready to bring it down on my head. Just then, the sharp, hurried click of high heels echoed from the restaurant entrance. Lilah Rhodes swept in. Her gaze passed over the wreckage without a flicker of surprise, but when it landed on Dylan, her voice softened. “What happened? Who hurt you?” Dylan immediately put on a wounded expression. “Lilah, you’re here! These two went crazy. They impersonated your husband and then they attacked me! They even fought the police!” The portly cop scurried over. “Ms. Rhodes, you’re just in time! These two out-of-towners were causing trouble, insulting you and Mr. Shaw. We were just handling it according to the law!” Lilah’s gaze finally fell on me, cold and disgusted, as if she were looking at something foul. “Ethan Cole. I really underestimated you. You come back from a six-month trip just to start brawls like some common thug?” She glanced at Edward. “And the trash you associate with is an embarrassment. Coming to New York to run wild? Do you think my company is a joke?” I wiped a smear of blood from my lip. “Lilah, let me ask you something. Dylan Shaw is going around calling himself your husband, and he tried to force me to pay for his corporate dinner. What exactly is going on?”

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1 By the time I got to Jackson’s place, he opened the door bleary-eyed, still wrestling with sleep. I just stood there on his doorstep. “We’re done.” Jackson blinked, the fog of sleep vanishing from his face. “Babe, what did I do wrong this time?” “You didn’t answer my call,” I said, my voice flat. A relieved laugh escaped him. He reached for my hand like he always did. “I was up late gaming with the guys, that’s all. I slept in and didn’t hear it. I’m sorry. To make it up to you, let me get dressed and I’ll take you to that new Thai place you’ve been wanting to try. How about it?” Seven years together, and he still thought this was just another one of my moods. I pulled my hand away, his touch feeling alien. “No, thanks. I’m leaving.” He never took me seriously. If that was the case, then I didn’t want him anymore. “Just because I missed one call this morning?” Jackson grabbed my wrist, his grip tightening. “Lucy, come on, don’t be like this.” “I swear it wasn’t on purpose. I told you I got that new game, we just lost track of time.” I wrenched my arm free. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Let go.” He persisted, his voice pleading. “You don’t want Thai? Okay, what about that new upscale steakhouse at the Galleria? We could go there. I just bought that new Fujifilm camera you wanted…” I looked straight at him. “I don’t want it anymore.” Jackson froze. Just then, Chloe emerged from the guest room, drowning in one of his oversized pajama shirts. “Jax, what’s all the noise? You woke me up.” I stared at the freshly-woken Chloe, and a bitter smile touched my lips. So this was Jackson’s “best friend.” The female one. The same one who’d sent me a deliberately ambiguous photo, designed to make me think she and Jackson had slept together. Chloe padded over to me, a sickly-sweet smile on her face. “Lucy, hey. What’s going on?” Jackson rubbed his temples, a weary sigh escaping him. “She’s mad I missed her call.” Chloe’s mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ of fake surprise. She quickly looped her arm through mine, her touch cloying. “Oh, Lucy, don’t be mad at him! Jax and I were gaming all night, I swear. The servers for the new expansion just opened, and I was so hyped I basically forced him to pull an all-nighter with me. He really didn’t mean to miss your call…” “We’re not that close,” I said, pulling my arm from her grasp. I turned my gaze back to Jackson. “Did you change the keypad code?” He frowned, clearly confused. I repeated myself, my voice sharp. “The code for your front door, Jackson. You changed it. I couldn’t get in.” “No, I didn’t,” he denied instantly. “It’s always been our anniversary…” My eyes flicked to Chloe. Right on cue, she chimed in. “Oh, that was me, Jax. Remember when you had the guys over for that party last week? Most of them don’t know Lucy, so I just changed it to something simple for the night. It’s not a big deal, we can just change it back. Lucy, you’re being a little sensitive, don’t you think?” Jackson sighed and looked at Chloe, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Chloe, Lucy’s not as laid-back as you are. She’s more sensitive, and these things matter to her. You should apologize.” I let out a sharp, mocking laugh and took a step back. “Oh, no, please don’t. God forbid I’m not as ‘chill’ as your best friend. A friend who your other friends don’t even know, yet they all know how close you two are. She shows up with her console, and you not only let her in, you let her spend the night. She can even change the damn code to your apartment. You know what, Jackson? Why don’t you two just move in together? Get married. I’ll even come to the wedding and toast to your happiness. How does that sound?” “Lucy, that’s crossing a line,” Jackson’s brows furrowed. He took a step forward, instinctively shielding Chloe behind him. “Chloe and I have been friends for years. If something was going to happen, it would have happened a long time ago. Why are you making a scene now? We were up late, I couldn’t just kick her out in the middle of the night. Besides, she slept in the guest room. You’re being aggressive. And she’s right, it’s just a passcode. We can change it back.” If something was going to happen, it would have happened by now. What a classic line. I swallowed the lump of acid rising in my throat and stared him down. “So you do remember she’s a girl.” Jackson flinched. Without another word, I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard Chloe’s voice, dripping with faux concern. “Jax, she’s so upset. Aren’t you going to go after her?” “It’s fine,” Jackson’s voice, though not loud, cut through the air like glass. “We’re about to get engaged. She’s just blowing off steam. She’ll cool down in a bit. It’s not a big deal.” He had no idea I was already preparing my applications to study abroad. I wasn’t coming back. 2 Back at the small apartment I shared with a roommate, I started packing. “Lucy? Are you finally moving in with Jackson?” My roommate, hearing the commotion, poked her head out of her room. “Aww, so you’re really not renewing the lease? I’m so happy for you guys! You deserve all the happiness!” For a second, I felt a wave of dizziness. She was right. Everyone knew how in love we were. I’d told my roommate that as soon as our lease was up, I was moving in with him. Everyone expected us to walk down the aisle. My hands stilled on a pile of clothes. “No,” I said, my voice hollow. “We broke up.” My roommate stared at me, her jaw slack. “What? Why? You and Jackson were campus couple goals! What happened?” “I don’t love him anymore,” I replied, the words feeling both simple and impossibly heavy. “That makes no sense,” she argued, confused. “Jackson’s handsome, and he was so good to you. He memorized all your favorite things, he went to concerts and art exhibits with you… he would do anything for you. I remember that one time you got your period and I was out of town, and he drove through a torrential downpour at midnight just to take care of you. He was just texting me the other day, asking if there was anything special you wanted lately. How could you just… stop loving him?” How could I? Maybe it was because she was talking about the Jackson of the past. The boy who held me in the palm of his hand, who shielded me from the world. Not the man who now stood in front of me, accusing me of being aggressive to protect his “best friend.” It was just that simple. A bitter smile twisted my lips. “Maybe… maybe it’s just because he didn’t answer my call this morning.” Seeing that I didn’t want to elaborate, my roommate sighed and dropped the subject. A moment later, she held up her phone, her expression cautious. “Was it… because of Chloe?” She showed me her screen. It was Chloe’s latest social media post—a photo dump from her gaming session with Jackson. The centerpiece was a cozy selfie of the two of them, Chloe’s head practically resting on Jackson’s shoulder. They were both holding controllers, grinning like they didn’t have a care in the world. The other pictures were a gallery of their in-game achievements: completed boss battles, high rankings on the new server leaderboards. It was clear they’d had a successful night. The comment section was a chorus of praise from Jackson’s friends. “Damn, Chloe, you’re a beast! That clear speed is insane.” “Only Jax can keep up with Chloe’s skill level. I’m still stuck on the first boss. Chloe, you gotta carry me sometime! Or get Jax to, lol.” “Is it just me or are Chloe and Jax themselves a power couple? Look at them. Total GOATs.” To any outsider, it would look like Chloe and Jackson were the ones who had been in a loving, seven-year relationship, on the verge of engagement. As I closed my suitcase, my roommate started fuming at the comments. “Seriously? Is Jackson blind? How can he not see how messed up it is for her to post pictures like that? And his friends? They’re clearly shipping them! Where does that leave you?” “That gaming console,” I added, my voice eerily calm, “was a birthday present I gave him.” And then the final nail: “The night before last, he promised me he would set boundaries with her.” “I get it now,” my roommate said, her voice soft with worry. She wrapped her arms around me in a gentle hug. “Lucy, we don’t need a man like that. But your lease is up soon. Where are you going to stay?” “I’ll stay with my aunt for a bit,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s perfect timing, actually. I can quit my job and finally go abroad for my master’s.” I looked at her, trying to project a confidence I didn’t feel. “Don’t worry about me. With my resume, I can find a job anywhere.” She sighed. “You’re right about that. You only took that corporate job to follow Jackson anyway. We all thought you’d go for your Ph.D., your research skills are top-tier. Just… promise you’ll take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything. I’ll always be in your corner.” “I will,” I nodded. Just then, my phone buzzed. A text from Jackson. “Babe, are you feeling any better? I ordered you some fried chicken and bubble tea. Please don’t be mad at me anymore? [puppy_eyes.gif]” I stared at the message for a long time. Then, I blocked his number and deleted him from every app on my phone. 3 After a quick hello to my aunt and dropping off my luggage, I took a cab back to my old university. I needed to pick up my transcripts, both in English and Chinese. But I was also there to say goodbye. I walked along the newly resurfaced running track, the sounds of undergrads laughing and chatting around me a ghostly echo of my own past. Then, I saw them. The two people I wanted to see least in the world. Jackson and Chloe. Chloe was clinging possessively to Jackson’s arm. The moment she saw me, her face split into a brilliant, triumphant smile. “Lucy! You’re here too?” Jackson rushed over. “What are you doing back on campus? I was just about to call you. The delivery guy said you never picked up the food.” I gave him a cold glance, my eyes landing pointedly on Chloe’s hand wrapped around his bicep. He finally registered it, awkwardly pulling his arm away. “Chloe said she wanted to see my alma mater, so I was just showing her around.” “Yeah, I was always so sad I never got to see where Jax spent his college years,” Chloe cooed, sidling closer. “We’re just best buds, you know? We’re so used to being like this. You don’t mind, do you, Lucy?” The sight of her made me feel sick. I turned to leave. But Jackson grabbed my arm, his voice laced with a new, wounded tone. “Lucy, are you still mad? I know you’re upset, but I bought you that bag you wanted. Please, just forgive me. I promise I’ll never, ever miss your call again.” He pulled a chic, expensive-looking box from his backpack. It was the latest design from a luxury brand, the exact one I’d mentioned wanting in a passing comment on my Instagram story a few weeks ago. A flood of memories washed over me. The college version of Jackson was always like this. He remembered every little thing I mentioned offhandedly. He tracked my cycle better than I did. Every time he made me angry, he would write me long, heartfelt apology texts. He’d spend his last dollar on flowers and gifts to win me back. When I was too lazy to eat breakfast, he’d wake up early to bring me something, worried about my stomach. When I was sad and stayed up all night, he’d stay up with me, just listening. I’d once asked him why he didn’t just tell me to go to sleep, and he’d said my feelings came first. His gentleness and devotion were what made me fall for him. They were also what made me forgive him, time and time again, after Chloe came into the picture. “Jax worked so hard to find this bag for you,” Chloe announced suddenly, her voice smug. She clapped him on the shoulder. “We had to check three different stores! In the end, I helped him pick this color. It suits you perfectly, right?” My head snapped up. “You picked it?” Jackson nodded, smiling. “Yeah, Chloe’s always had great taste.” Chloe took that as her cue, draping her arm around Jackson’s neck. “You know it! My taste is impeccable.” Jackson responded by wrapping an arm around her waist, and the two of them shared a laugh, completely at ease. The image was a needle straight to my eye. “Jackson,” my voice trembled. “Do you remember what you said on our first date?” He looked blank. “What?” “You said, ‘Lucy’s gifts have to be picked out by me, and only me, because only I know what she truly loves.’” I threw the gift box at his chest. “What about now?” The box fell to the ground, popping open and revealing the beautiful, expensive handbag inside. “I…” Chloe’s face soured. “What’s that supposed to mean, Lucy? I was just trying to help, and now I’m the bad guy?” “Shut up!” I snapped, cutting her off. “I’m talking to Jackson. This has nothing to do with you.” Jackson frowned. “Lucy, don’t be like that. Chloe’s my friend. At least show her some respect.” “Friend?” I scoffed. “Since Chloe came back, how many times has she dragged you away, saying she ‘missed her old buddy’? The last time we had a date night, you abandoned me in the middle of a restaurant because she called. And now, you let her sleep over at your house. I’ll say it again: if you two get married, don’t send me an invitation. The thought of it makes me sick.” People were starting to stop and stare. “That time, I managed to get us VIP tickets to see Jax’s favorite esports team! All the other guys were there too!” Chloe retorted, her lip trembling. “Jax, I even told you to buy her flowers afterwards! I thought you two had made up!” “The flowers from that night… you picked those out too?” A tremor ran through my entire body. I had been furious that night. It was the first time I’d truly questioned his feelings for me. But Jackson had come back groveling, a huge bouquet of flowers in hand, and spent half the night convincing me he was sorry. And because I knew how much that match meant to him, how much he loved that player, I forgave him. “Well, duh,” Chloe said, preening. “You really think a clueless guy like Jax could pick out something so perfect on his own? Lucy, ever since I got back, I’ve helped him pick out every single one of your gifts.” I stared at Jackson, my world tilting on its axis. “I saw that you liked the things Chloe picked, so I didn’t think much of it,” he mumbled, refusing to meet my eyes. He reached for me. “Lucy, let’s go somewhere private and talk. There are too many people here.” “No need.” I slapped his hand away and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Jackson, you make me sick.” The early winter wind bit at my cheeks, but I couldn’t feel the cold. I just walked, putting one foot in front of the other, moving away from him. Jackson didn’t come after me. 4 I don’t know how long I walked before a gentle voice called out from behind me. “Lucy Su?” I turned. It was Liam Yuan, Jackson’s old college roommate. We’d been in the same student club freshman year and bonded over a shared love for literature. We could have been good friends, but after I started dating Jackson, we both deliberately kept our distance, and eventually, we lost touch completely. “It really is you,” he said, jogging down the steps toward me. “Long time no see.” “I remember you. Jackson’s roommate,” I said, reflexively tying him to Jackson, avoiding his eyes. “What are you doing here?” “I’m a teaching assistant for the economics department now,” he said, his gaze soft. “And you? Back to get some documents?” I nodded, a sudden sting behind my eyes. Liam noticed my distress but didn’t press. He glanced at his watch. “Do you want to grab a coffee?” I hesitated for a moment. “Okay.” “I heard you’re planning to go abroad for your master’s,” he said as soon as we sat down. I was surprised. “How did you know?” “The professors in the department were talking about it,” he said, adjusting his glasses. “Professor Zhang was disappointed to see you go. He said you could have easily stayed for the Ph.D. program.” I stared into my cup, stirring the dark liquid. “Some things… require a change of scenery.” Liam didn’t pry. Instead, he pulled a folder from his bag. “I put together some information on a few universities. Considering your research focus, I think these might be a good fit for you.” I opened the folder. It wasn’t just a list of schools. It contained detailed introductions, breakdowns of each economics department’s strengths, information on key professors, and even estimated living costs for each city. “This is… incredibly detailed,” I said, looking up at him. “When did you do all this?” “I started putting it together when I heard you were planning to leave,” he said calmly. “I spent a few years studying overseas, so I figured I might have some useful insights to share.” We talked for a long time. Liam never once mentioned Jackson. He just earnestly analyzed the pros and cons of each school, even suggesting a few programs I’d never considered but were perfectly suited for me. “If you need a letter of recommendation,” he said as we were leaving, “I’d be happy to write one.” I hesitated. “Can I… get your contact information?” Liam pulled a business card from his pocket. “This has my work email and phone number. Feel free to reach out anytime.” He paused. “My name is Liam Yuan.” His manner was polite and restrained, maintaining a perfect, considerate distance. I nodded, not mentioning that I had, of course, remembered his name all along. “Got it.” The sky had darkened by the time we left the coffee shop. “Lucy,” Liam called out suddenly as I was about to walk away. “Whatever you decide to do, remember to live for yourself.” I knew he’d seen it. He’d seen me and Jackson on the quad. “I will,” I whispered, the words nearly lost in the wind. 5 I didn’t rush to leave town. If I left now, I didn’t know when I’d be back. I wandered aimlessly, my feet eventually carrying me to the front of the Economics building. A light was still on in the third-floor lecture hall. That was where Jackson and I first met. It was in our freshman Microeconomics class. Jackson had been late, bursting into the room in a panic and bumping right into me in the front row. He’d fumbled to help me pick up my scattered books, looking up with an apologetic grin. “Hey, sorry about that.” His eyes were so bright then, like they were full of starlight. He told me later he’d noticed me earlier and had bumped into me on purpose, just to have an excuse to talk. I’d laughed and called him a schemer, but he’d turned serious. “Because the first time I saw you, I knew I had to meet you.” I kept walking, finding myself in the small garden behind the library. There was a bench there, our old spot. Jackson used to love reading me the poems he wrote. They were never very good, but his ears would always turn beet red. “Lucy,” he’d said once, suddenly putting down his notebook and taking my hand. “I’m going to give you the best life, I promise.” His palm was warm, his gaze so steady it made me believe every word. Around the corner was the cafeteria. Sophomore year, I had a high fever. Jackson skipped his classes and stood in line for half an hour to buy me my favorite congee. By the time he got it to my dorm, the soup was still piping hot, but he was shivering from the cold. “Eat it while it’s hot,” he’d urged, pressing the container into my hands. “I asked the lady to add extra ginger.” These memories flickered through my mind like a movie reel, each scene as vivid as if it were yesterday. Jackson really had given me his whole heart once. That meticulous care, that all-consuming affection—it wasn’t fake. So when did it all change? It must have been after Chloe returned from abroad. She was Jackson’s high school classmate and had come back last year. The first time we met, she’d slung an arm around his shoulder with an easy familiarity. “Jax! I missed you, man!” Jackson had laughed and playfully punched her arm. “Get off me, you weirdo.” I stood to the side, feeling a prickle of awkwardness. Only then did Jackson seem to remember me. “Oh, this is my girlfriend, Lucy.” “Hey, Lucy!” Chloe had grinned, sticking out a hand. “Jax and I were always like this in high school. Don’t mind us.” I forced a smile and shook her hand. That night, Jackson reassured me. “Chloe’s just really outgoing, that’s her personality. We were super close back in the day. Don’t overthink it.” I nodded, wanting to believe him. But soon, Chloe started appearing more and more. She was always calling Jackson away for “a reunion with the guys,” sometimes even when we were in the middle of a date. “Lucy,” Jackson would say, looking torn, “Chloe says it’s an emergency…” “Go ahead,” I’d always reply, not wanting to seem petty. Last month, we were at a nice restaurant celebrating our anniversary when Chloe called. She’d scored tickets to see his favorite esports team. “It’s tonight!” her voice was shrill with excitement over the phone. “Jax, you have to come! The rest of the guys are already here!” Jackson’s eyes lit up. He looked at me, his hope palpable. I put down my fork. “Go.” “You’re the best, Lucy!” he’d said, kissing my forehead. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, I promise!” That night, I finished our two-person meal alone. When I got home, I saw a message from him. “Chloe is the GOAT! We’re in the front row! [Photo]” In the picture, Chloe was practically plastered to Jackson’s side, flashing a victory sign. I turned off my phone and lay awake all night. The next day, Jackson came back with a huge bouquet of roses and a necklace. “Don’t be mad,” he’d cooed, trying to win me over. “I brought you flowers and a gift.” I should have seen the problem then. But I chose to forgive him. A cold wind made me shiver, pulling me back to the present. I was standing at the main gate of the campus. My phone vibrated. A message from Liam. “Have you thought about it? Do you need me to contact any professors for you?” I took a deep breath and replied, “Thank you. I think I want to apply to the London School of Economics. If you could introduce me to Professor Zhang’s former mentor there, that would be incredible.” After sending the message, I took one last look at the campus, then turned and walked toward the subway station.

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My boyfriend had just gotten back from a business trip. Passion flared, and he held me in a flurry of desperate kisses, our bodies tangled together. Our clothes were halfway to the floor when a knock came at the door, and his friend walked right in, his voice laced with amusement. “Looks like I came at a bad time.” The voice was familiar. I looked up, and my heart stopped. The man stood there in a tailored suit, his features sharp and handsome. And when he saw my face, the smirk vanished, replaced by pure, unadulterated panic. 1. I was wearing nothing but my boyfriend Timothy’s white shirt, curled up in his arms as he tried to cover my bare legs from view. The man let out a low chuckle. “Protective, aren’t we?” The air in the room crackled with awkwardness. Timothy, still shirtless himself, scrambled to throw a jacket over me. He glanced down, saw the desperate plea in my eyes, and a grin spread across his face. He brushed his lips against my cheek. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “He’s a friend.” I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. I’d rather he be a burglar. A friend was so much worse. Thankfully, the man gave us an out. “I’ll wait for you guys downstairs. Hurry up.” His voice was so achingly familiar that I couldn’t stop myself from looking up again. All I saw was his back as he turned—a man in an expensive suit, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist. Even from behind, he was perfection. He paused, as if sensing my gaze, and started to turn his head. Before I could see his face, Timothy pulled me back against his chest. “What?” I mumbled into his skin. “One more kiss.” The footsteps faded down the stairs. I pressed my foot against his chest. “Your friend is waiting. Stop messing around.” “Nope.” Timothy’s expression was all playful mischief as he grabbed my ankle. “I haven’t seen you in ages. What’s wrong with a little messing around? I’m going to mess around.” It had only been three days. He leaned in, capturing my lips in a deep, lingering kiss. When he finally pulled away, I took a moment to steady my breathing before heading to the bedroom to change. He leaned lazily against the doorframe, watching me unabashedly as he took a call. “Yeah, Chris, we’re coming down. Hey, go easy on the jokes later. My girlfriend’s a bit shy. Don’t scare her.” I shot him a glare. He just grinned, walking over to zip up the back of my dress before taking my hand. “Let’s go, babe.” “Great,” I grumbled. “The legend of the shy girlfriend precedes me.” “What are you worried about? Chris’s a total clam. You can’t squeeze a word out of him.” He leaned in, his voice a low whisper in my ear. “I bet we could even do it right in front of him and he wouldn’t—” “Timothy!” I shoved him away, my face burning. He pulled me back, feigning an apology, but I could feel the laughter bubbling under the surface. “Baby…” Outside, a black sedan was parked in the driveway. A tall, slender man was leaning against the car, talking to the woman in the passenger seat. Timothy’s hand tightened possessively on my waist. “Who are you looking at?” The man heard us and turned around. His eyes landed on my face, and he froze. His gaze then dropped to where Timothy’s hand was linked with mine, and he froze again. My body went rigid. I followed Timothy’s lead and offered a stiff greeting. Chris didn’t respond. The woman in the car, Chloe, nudged him. “What’s wrong with you?” He shook his head, his eyes dazed. “I’m hallucinating.” Once we were in the car, Timothy rested his head on my shoulder, whispering in my ear. In the driver’s seat, Chris’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Chloe glanced at us in the rearview mirror. “Seriously, Timothy, you’re making me sick. All this lovey-dovey stuff is too much for a single woman to bear.” Timothy chuckled. “Still haven’t managed to win Chris over?” “Not a chance,” Chloe said, flipping her hair back with a dramatic flair. She pointed to a small gardenia-scented air freshener hanging from the mirror. “I’ve given up. I’m not as sentimental as he is. Still treasuring a gift his ex-girlfriend gave him ages ago.” My breath caught in my throat. My eyes met Chris’s in the mirror. They were a swirling mess of confusion and pain. My own heart felt like a tangled knot. I was the one who gave him that air freshener. But they were both wrong about one thing. I wasn’t his ex-girlfriend. And the person he was so hopelessly devoted to was someone else entirely. I quickly looked away. Timothy pulled me closer, playing a show on his phone for us to watch, occasionally leaning down to press a soft kiss to my eyelids. Suddenly, with a violent screech of tires, the car swerved and slammed into the guardrail. Everything was thrown into chaos. Timothy held me tight, shielding me with his body. I heard him let out a muffled groan of pain. I was about to ask if he was okay when Chloe’s panicked scream cut through the air. “Chris! Are you alright?” I looked to the front. The airbags had deployed. Chris’s head was covered in blood. He blinked slowly, his dark, inky eyes looking so incredibly wounded. He looked like a lost child who couldn’t find his way home. “Zoe,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Don’t you want me anymore?” 2. I had approached Chris with a purpose. In the grand story of this world, he was the second male lead. The one destined to silently love the brilliant heroine, Seraphina, from afar. In the end, he was supposed to get into a car crash on his way to find her, losing both his legs. And me? I was just a background character. But I loved him. Back in high school, Chris was a punk with a head of bleached-blond hair and too much restless energy. My grades were good, so his grandfather hired me to tutor him. Chris couldn’t stand me, but he didn’t dare defy his grandfather. Sometimes, he’d get bold, cornering me with his motorcycle and demanding I lend him some cash. I’d just pull out my calculator. “Did you already spend the money I gave you for breakfast this morning?” He’d stare at me, dumbfounded. “Are you serious? It was two bucks! I need gas for my bike. Do you have any idea how much gas costs?” He’d rev the engine for emphasis. “Do you know how much this bike costs?” So full of himself. I went straight to his grandfather. The next day, he was riding a bicycle to school, tenderly nursing his bruised ego and a sore behind. Chris wasn’t a bad person. In fact, he was kind of a dumbass. Sweet and simple. When I tried to teach him, he’d doodle in his notebook. When I’d fall asleep from exhaustion, he’d sneakily stick little star stickers on my face. One time, I woke up, my vision blurry, and saw his mischievous grin. “You’re really pretty, Zoe.” I was still half-asleep. I thought his eyes were stars. I reached out, touched his face, and laughed softly. “Chris, I like you so much.” He just blinked, muttering, “You always tease me like this.” “But do you like me?” He mumbled a quiet, “Yeah.” Liar. You said you liked me. But then Seraphina transferred to our school, and his attention was gone, captured by her in an instant. All I got from him was a dismissive, “Zoe, you’re just a friend to me.” His friendship wasn’t worth much. We hadn’t spoken in two weeks. For Seraphina, he had dyed his hair back to its natural brown and started dressing in crisp white shirts, looking deceptively clean-cut. Sometimes I’d look up from my textbooks and see him trailing behind her and the story’s male lead, Tristan. The two geniuses would deliberately ignore him, and he’d just stand there, head bowed, looking small and out of place. It still made my heart ache for him. So, when he showed up at my desk with his failed test and a bubble tea, I sighed. “You didn’t understand it, did you?” He nodded like a bobblehead. The idiot was finally motivated, but it was for someone else. I broke down the concepts for him, piece by piece, but I was still annoyed. I drew a little turtle on his test paper. Slow-poke Chris, you’re hopeless. He told me, his eyes shining, that Seraphina had promised to go on a date with him if he could score in the top ten of our grade. This was a kid who struggled to make the top ten in our class. I rolled my eyes. But I still organized all the study materials for him. I was an idiot, too. He worked incredibly hard, studying day and night. When his blood sugar dropped, he’d be in the nurse’s office with an IV drip in one arm, still scribbling notes with the other. When the results came out, all his effort hadn’t been enough. He sat alone on a bench outside the amusement park where he had planned to take her. He looked so lonely, so pitiful. The date he had planned so meticulously had only one guest: me. The one person who shouldn’t have been there. I sat with him until late into the night. It started to pour, and we just sat there like two fools, neither of us moving. Suddenly, he asked, his eyes filled with a wariness that broke my heart, “Zoe, do you still like me?” I wiped the rain from my face. “Get over yourself. See that guy?” I pointed randomly at a burly, bearded man in a suit taking shelter from the rain. “That’s my type.” I quickly lowered my hand, embarrassed. But he believed me instantly, a wave of relief washing over his face. “Oh. Well, thanks, Zoe. You’re my best friend.” I just nodded. Just then, his phone rang. It was Seraphina. His face lit up, and his voice became soft and gentle as he answered. He rushed off into the rain without a second glance at me. He never had time for me anymore. The rain blurred my vision. I tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. I was used to it. Ever since he fell for Seraphina, all he ever left me was his retreating back. The sky was dark. The streets were empty. I was chilled to the bone, walking for what felt like hours in the downpour. My phone rang. It was him, his voice bright and happy. “Zoe, it’s great news! Sera agreed to a make-up date! But she has one condition. She wants to borrow your set of review notes. Can I give them to her tomorrow?” It was loud on his end. I could hear the warm, happy sounds of a party in the background. They were celebrating Seraphina’s birthday. Rain had gotten into my phone, distorting the sound. It took me a moment to understand what he was asking. “Please, Zoe,” he begged. “You know how much this means to me. It’s the first time she’s ever agreed to anything.” I sniffled, my resolve crumbling as I typed out two pathetic words. “Okay.” “Thank you! I knew you were my best friend!” He laughed, finally happy, and hung up to go celebrate with the girl he loved. The warmth on his end of the line was cut off, leaving me alone in the cold, biting wind. 3. Chris had labeled me a friend, but I was never very good at playing the part. Anyone could see I was in love with him. Anyone except him. He chased after Seraphina with a single-minded devotion that made him insecure, sensitive, and increasingly silent. My heart felt like it was being pricked by a thousand needles. I knew he would never win her love, just as I knew I would never have him look back at me. But I still held onto a sliver of hope, thinking I could somehow break the script. What if? What if the plot was forcing him? What if this wasn’t what he truly wanted? What if… what if he could actually be moved by me, even fall in love with me? Seraphina didn’t even like him. She called him an idiot behind his back. His only purpose in the story was to make the male lead, Tristan, jealous. A love story between two geniuses, and they needed my sweet, dumb Chris as a pawn. One day, he came to me, his eyes red-rimmed, and whispered, “Am I really that worthless? Am I not worth loving?” I gritted my teeth, my own anger flaring. “You’re amazing,” I told him firmly. “No one is better than you.” The reason I loved him was simple. When I transferred to his middle school, he was the only one who was nice to me. When I was accused of cheating, he stood up for me. When I was tripped during a track meet, he dropped the relay baton without a second thought and carried me to the nurse’s office. He was from a wealthy family but never acted like it. He was friends with everyone, a little ball of sunshine. I thought he was perfect. So perfect that when I found out he was just the second male lead, I was furious. Why did someone so good have to be a mere supporting character? After graduation, things took a turn. Seraphina, in a fit of pique after a fight with Tristan, accepted Chris’s confession of love. Chris was ecstatic, thinking he had finally won her over. A few days later, he walked in on the two of them, having made up, locked in a passionate kiss. His entire effort was a joke. They were playing him like a fool. Seraphina went back to ignoring him. Chris didn’t fight, didn’t argue. He didn’t even dare to ask why. He just retreated back into his shell. I brought over a six-pack of beer. He had a few days’ worth of stubble on his chin. He popped open a can, took a small sip, and grimaced at the taste. Then he tilted his head back and chugged the whole thing. “Feel any better?” He shook his head. I couldn’t stand it. I found Seraphina and Tristan and gave them a piece of my mind. It was the first time in my life I had ever yelled at anyone. A crowd gathered. Seraphina looked mortified. I was shaking with rage. And then he appeared, pushing through the crowd, and pulled me away. Me, the one fighting his battles for him. His eyes held no gratitude, only annoyance, shame, and a flicker of disgust. My anger died instantly. “Chris, don’t be mad.” His face was a cold mask. “You’re overstepping.” I thought he hated me. But the next day, when I went to see him, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. His eyes were closed. The faint, fruity taste of wine on his lips made my head spin. His voice was low and rough. “Zoe, don’t push me away.” In that moment, in my foolishness, I thought I had finally moved him. The same ridiculous idea he’d had about Seraphina. I held onto a shred of clarity, my hand trembling as I clutched his shirt. “Chris, are you starting to like me?” If he said yes, I would believe him. But he didn’t say anything. The hands holding me just trembled slightly.

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My husband, Marcin, convinced me to have four children with him through IVF. After they were born, I realized each one looked exactly like one of his four ex-girlfriends. When one of his friends asked him about it in private, Marcin couldn’t help but reveal his grand design. “I couldn’t bear to just let them go,” he’d said with a smug grin. “Think of the children as… parting gifts.” His friend was stunned. “What if your wife finds out?” Marcin just shrugged. “So what if she does? She took their spot, didn’t she? The least she can do is contribute something.” 1 When I married Marcin, he insisted we use IVF. He said he wanted the best for our future children, genetically speaking, and I agreed. Using a lab to screen the embryos meant our children would be healthier, smarter. The procedure was a success. We had quadruplets: two boys and two girls. Marcin was ecstatic. “One shot, four birds,” he crowed. “A truly grand gift.” “I get the ‘four birds’ part,” I said, my voice flat, “but what do you mean by ‘gift’?” “Oh,” he stammered, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “I just mean—they’re a gift from heaven, a gift to us…” Before he could finish his clumsy explanation, my best friend, Sarah, burst into the room, all excitement and congratulations. Marcin used the interruption to slip away. Sarah cooed over the four bassinets, but then her expression shifted to one of confusion. “This is strange,” she murmured, looking from the babies to me. “What’s strange?” “Well… none of them look a thing like either of you.” A cool, tight smile formed on my lips. “You have a good eye.” The look on my face must have startled her. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Claire… don’t tell me these four babies have nothing to do with you.” “You’re right,” I said, my voice as calm as a frozen lake. “None of them are mine.” “What!?” Sarah gasped. “When did you find out?” “Just before the delivery. I overheard Marcin bragging to one of his buddies.” “Then why did you go through with it? Why did you give birth to them?” “I was about to go into labor, Sarah. It was too late to do anything.” “So why haven’t you divorced him?” she demanded, her voice rising in outrage. “Divorce?” The corner of my mouth twitched upwards. “Oh, I’m not letting Marcin off the hook that easily. He made me a vessel for other women’s children, humiliated me in the most intimate way possible. He made me suffer. Why would I ever grant him a clean break?” As the children grew, their features became more defined, and the questions from friends and family grew more frequent. “Are you sure there wasn’t a mix-up at the clinic?” they’d ask, their eyes darting between me, Marcin, and the four children who bore no resemblance to us. Marcin would just flash a mysterious, knowing smile. I would pretend not to hear. One afternoon, Sarah called me for an urgent coffee. She slid a small stack of photos across the table. “I did some digging,” she said, her voice grim. “These are his four exes.” I picked them up. Four young women stared back at me from the glossy prints. Each one was a startlingly clear blueprint for one of my children. “There’s no doubt about it,” Sarah said, her hands clenched into fists. “He swapped your eggs for theirs during the IVF process. All four of them.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Marcin always seemed so gentle, so devoted to you. I can’t believe he’s such a scumbag. No, not a scumbag—he’s the absolute scum of the earth…” Her anger was a wildfire. “If I were you, I’d smother those four babies in their sleep and then stab that bastard Marcin with a kitchen knife. It would be a crime of passion! You’d get a few years, tops. Who cares? At least you’d have your revenge.” I placed the photos down, one by one. “No,” I said, my voice low and deliberate. “There are far crueler ways to destroy a man.” Time passed. The children turned one. They were walking now, chattering their first words. The resemblance to the women in the photographs was uncanny. Even Marcin’s friends started noticing. One finally cornered him and asked what was going on. Marcin, flushed with pride, couldn’t resist revealing his master plan. “I couldn’t bear to just let them go,” he’d said. “Think of the children as… parting gifts for each of them.” His friend was floored. “What if your wife finds out the truth?” Marcin laughed it off. “So what? She took their spot. It’s only right she contributes something.” Then, his mother arrived from her small town back in the Midwest. She stormed through the door without so much as a hello. “You have children and you don’t even bother to tell me?” she snapped at Marcin. “Have you forgotten you even have a mother?” But then the four toddlers swarmed her, shouting “Grandma! Grandma!” and her anger melted away. Her face broke into a wide, beaming smile. She turned to me. “Claire, my dear, you’re amazing! Four at once! The ancestors of the Miller family will be thanking you for generations.” “It wasn’t my talent,” I replied evenly. “It was your son’s.” The nuance was lost on her. She turned back to the children, scooping them up one by one, her heart overflowing with joy. “Come, let Grandma see who these little treasures look like.” She studied each child’s face, her smile slowly fading and hardening into a suspicious frown. She pulled Marcin into the next room. I heard their hushed, urgent whispers. “Marcin, why don’t any of these children look like you or Claire? Are you sure she hasn’t been… seeing someone else?” Marcin scoffed. “Her? She wouldn’t have the guts.” “Then what is it?” He leaned in and whispered the whole story in her ear. Her face lit up with a conspiratorial glee. “My boy! You’re a genius! What a brilliant plan!” Then, a shadow of caution crossed her face. She glanced nervously toward the door. “Does she know?” “I don’t think she has a clue.” “You’re too careless!” his mother chided. “You can’t hide something like this forever. She’s bound to find out. What if she goes crazy and tries to harm our four precious grandchildren?” Marcin let out another dismissive snort. “She wouldn’t dare.” “A woman scorned is capable of anything,” his mother insisted. “You need to test her. Find out where her head is at.” “You’re right, Mom. I’ll listen to you.” I watched the whole scene unfold through the crack in the door, a cold, silent laugh blooming in my chest. Like mother, like son. So that’s where Marcin got his charming personality. He wanted to test me? Fine. I was eager to see what he had in mind. The next day, for the first time in our marriage, Marcin didn’t sleep in. He was up at the crack of dawn, not to rush to the office, but to make breakfast. After plating the food, he did something even stranger: he opened a bottle of red wine. “My love,” he said, raising a glass. “You work so hard taking care of our four children. I must toast to you.” I smiled sweetly. “I’m caring for my own children, not someone else’s. It’s no hardship at all.” Marcin chuckled, a little too loudly. “Still, four is a handful, and I’m so busy with work. I wish I could help more.” I put down my fork and met his gaze. “You’re acting very strange today, Marcin. Did you happen to hear some… gossip?” He stammered, choosing his words carefully. “Y-you heard it too?” I slammed my bowl onto the table, my expression hardening. “It’s a serious matter. How could I not have heard?” “Alright, fine!” He took a deep breath, as if bracing for a fight. “People are saying the kids don’t look like us. They’re saying that during the IVF, I might have… swapped your eggs for—” “They came from my body,” I interrupted, my voice firm. “It doesn’t matter if they don’t look like me.” He froze, his glass halfway to his lips. He stared at me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re not… afraid they might not be biologically yours?” A genuine, warm smile spread across my face for the first time in a year. I knew this moment was coming. He couldn’t hold it in forever. The trap was set. It was time to spring it. “Well,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Shouldn’t you be compensating me for all my trouble?” “Of course! Of course!” he exclaimed, relief flooding his face. He was overjoyed. “Oh, Claire! I had no idea you were so enlightened, so understanding! This is wonderful. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.” Giddy with relief, he poured himself another glass of wine, and then another. Soon, the drunken truth came spilling out. “Do you know why I never filed our marriage license?” he slurred, pointing a wobbly finger at me. “I was testing you. This whole time. I wanted to see if you were worthy.” He grinned, a sloppy, triumphant expression. “And you are. You passed the test. I’m very, very satisfied with you.” Seeing him completely wasted, I let my own smile turn sharp. “So, how will you compensate me? With money… or with your life?” He roared with laughter. “Haha! It’s not often you make jokes like that, my love. But whether you want my money or my life, I’d give it to you willingly. Tomorrow! Tomorrow, we’re going to City Hall and making this official. I’m going to marry you, Claire.” “Take me to City Hall?” I purred. “Are you sure you don’t want to live a few more years?” Marcin just laughed harder. “You’re hilarious! I never knew you had such a dark sense of humor.” “You think I’m joking?” I said, my smile unwavering. “You should be very, very sure about that.” “Fine,” he declared grandly. “For my four children, I’d happily give up a few years of my life.” “Since you’ve made up your mind,” I said smoothly, “I’ll see you at the courthouse tomorrow.” He didn’t say another word, just let out a loud, wine-soaked burp and staggered off to bed. Deep in the night, his snores were punctuated by muffled, triumphant whispers. “…Finally… got her… locked down… yes… oh, yes…” I listened from the doorway, a chill spreading through my veins. You think this feels good, Marcin? I thought. You have no idea what true satisfaction feels like. But don’t worry. You’ll find out soon enough. True to his word, the next morning, Marcin took me to the courthouse and we signed the papers. We were legally married. Back home, he tossed a thick folder onto the coffee table in front of me. “Go on, celebrate. Thirty percent of the company is officially yours.” I glanced at the stock certificates. His company was worth two hundred million dollars. “We’re a married couple now,” I said calmly. “Legally, I should be entitled to fifty percent. Where did the other twenty percent go?” “I’ve allocated ten percent to each of the four children. That’s forty percent off the top. We split the remaining sixty percent, fifty-fifty.” “You’re so generous to them,” I said, my voice dripping with an irony he completely missed. “Their mothers must be so grateful.” “These children are my gifts to them,” he said, puffing out his chest. “A guarantee for their future.” “You’re a truly wonderful man to your ex-girlfriends.” “What can I say?” he shrugged. “I’m a man who takes responsibility. I have to see things through with every single one of them.” I fought back the urge to gag. “Men with your sense of responsibility are a rare breed these days.” “Don’t start flattering me just yet, Claire,” he said, gathering the documents. “You still need to raise those four children. This thirty percent is only yours if you continue to perform well.” I feigned confusion. “But you said the shares were gifts for them. Shouldn’t you be giving them to their mothers?” “It’s not the right time,” he said dismissively. “When will it be the right time?” “Now is not the right time.” “Why not?” He was losing patience. “I have to think about them!” he snapped. “They’re still young, they’re dating, trying to find husbands. How is it going to look if they suddenly have a child to deal with?” “Oh, I see,” I said, my face a mask of dawning understanding. “You’re so thoughtful.” “You stole their place,” he said, his voice turning cold and hard. “You have to make some sacrifices. There will be… difficult moments ahead. You’ll have to be prepared for that. But I trust you’ll handle it with the same grace you’ve shown so far. Don’t disappoint me.” With that, he walked out the door. Soon enough, the “difficult moments” he’d warned me about began to arrive. One evening, Marcin came home with a woman in tow. I recognized her instantly from one of the photos. It was Chloe. She marched over to the playpen, picked up one of the boys, and immediately began comparing him to the other three. Her brow furrowed in anger. “Why is my son thinner than the others?” she demanded, whirling on me. She jabbed a finger in my face. “What kind of incompetent nanny are you? Don’t you understand the concept of fairness? My child should be the biggest and healthiest of the lot, not the scrawniest!” She dug into her designer handbag, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and threw it in my face. “This is about money, isn’t it? Fine! Take it! Go buy my son the most expensive supplements you can find.” Throughout this tirade, Marcin just stood there with a weak, placating smile. “Chloe’s just like that,” he said to me afterward. “You’re the bigger person here, Claire. You have to be patient with her.” A few days later, another woman showed up. Isla. She went through the same routine, comparing her daughter to the other children. When she was done, she turned and slapped me hard across the face. Then she rounded on Marcin. “This is the ‘graceful’ and ‘capable’ wife you found?” she spat. Marcin stammered, “Isla, it was an oversight. I’ll have a serious talk with her—” “Save it,” she cut him off. “My daughter will be better cared for than the other three. See to it.” In the weeks that followed, the other two mothers made their appearances as well. Each one was a storm of insults and threats, warning me of the dire consequences I’d face if I didn’t prioritize their child. Through it all, I remained silent. I endured. And Marcin was, once again, deeply satisfied with my performance. He praised me for being such a smart woman, his praise laced with a familiar, menacing undertone. “You hit the jackpot marrying a CEO like me,” he’d say. “Just keep me happy, Claire. That’s all you have to do. Anything else would be foolish. And you’re not a foolish woman, are you?” Word began to spread. The story of the corporate wife raising her husband’s love children with his four ex-girlfriends became the juiciest piece of gossip in our social circle. How pathetic can one woman be? I can’t imagine what’s going through her head. To endure that kind of humiliation just to be a rich man’s wife… it’s unbelievable. Sarah came over, practically vibrating with rage. “Where’s the fight you promised me?” she hissed. “All I see is you becoming a doormat!” I didn’t answer her directly. I walked to the window and listened to the melancholy chirp of the late-summer cicadas. “Patience, my friend,” I murmured, more to myself than to her.

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Five years ago, I saved a handsome fox. I expected gratitude. Instead, he dumped three kits on my doorstep. As I hesitated, floating comments appeared: [OMG! These fox spirits transform into Grade-A hotties!] [The fake heiress will steal them to build her harem!] [Their powers will help her steal everything from you!] Just then, my scheming “sister” reached for the box: “You hate animals, Cora. Give them to me.” I yanked the box back: “Better to raise my own men, no?” 1 When Hailey reached for the cardboard box, my hands moved faster than my brain. I yanked it behind my back. “No, I couldn’t possibly trouble you. I found them, so I should be the one to take care of them.” Five minutes ago, I had started seeing strange, translucent messages—like a live chat commentary—floating in my vision. Through them, I learned the truth: I was living inside a novel. A novel titled The Fake Heiress Who Fought for Everything and Lived Happily Ever After. And I, the real heiress, was nothing more than the villainous foil to the story’s beloved protagonist. Hailey, the fake heiress, was greedy and materialistic, yet she pretended to despise our wealthy family, making a show of wanting to escape. And for that, everyone adored her. Meanwhile, I, the one who craved a family’s love, the one who’d been separated from them for over a decade because of a hospital mix-up, was despised for everything I did. And it all started with this litter of foxes. Hailey was supposed to use these kits to steal the good fortune that was rightfully mine. I, without any magical assistance, was destined to fail at every turn, ultimately ending my story by jumping off a building in despair. But now I could see the commentary. And I wasn’t about to let that happen. I clutched the box tightly. Hailey’s hand froze, and a strange expression crossed her face. She tilted her chin, a smirk playing on her lips. “You wouldn’t know how to raise them, Cora. You spent your whole life in some backwater town. Did they even teach you about this kind of thing at that little school of yours? Oh, right, I forgot. You went to a public middle school. You probably don’t know the first thing about caring for foxes.” Her words were like a physical blow. A hot flush of shame and anger crept up my neck. Before I could retort, a smooth, magnetic voice spoke up from behind me. “Cora? What are you fighting with Hailey about now? You have everything she has. Can’t you just leave her alone? The family has already compensated you for what you went through. Isn’t that enough?” The speaker, dressed in designer sportswear, had sharp, handsome features and a perfectly styled haircut. It was Ashton Vance, the adopted son of the Song family. And, as of recently, my fiancé. 2 Five years ago, I was spending the summer at my grandmother’s, shucking corn, when I found an injured fox. He was magnificent—pure white fur, piercing blue eyes that held a chilling intensity. I’d heard stories about fox spirits who repaid human kindness. So, I left him my home address and social security number, just to be sure he didn’t repay the wrong person. I waited and waited. No magical repayment came. Instead, a fleet of luxury cars belonging to the wealthiest family in the region, the Songs, rolled up to my grandmother’s tiny house. They were here to take me home. There had been a mix-up at the hospital. I was their long-lost daughter. This has to be the fox spirit’s work! I thought. But when I returned to the Song family, I discovered my position was… awkward. My biological parents felt no connection to me. They pitied me for my past—my adoptive parents had died young, leaving me to be raised in poverty by my grandmother—but they seemed to think money was the only compensation they owed me. Hailey, the girl who had taken my place, was so sweet and charming that my parents couldn’t bear to send her away. So she stayed, now officially the “adopted second daughter.” In name, I was the first daughter. But in reality, she held all the power. And Ashton? The live commentary had just revealed he was the male lead of this novel. As the adopted son, everyone had assumed he and Hailey were destined to be together. But when I, the real heiress, was brought home, our parents honored a childhood betrothal agreement. Suddenly, Ashton was my fiancé. And since he couldn’t marry the girl he actually loved, he had nothing but contempt for me. But I didn’t care. The Songs had made a promise: if I came back, they would pay for my grandmother’s medical care, ensuring she had a place in the best nursing home. A muscle twitched in my jaw as I glared at Ashton. “Enough? What, exactly, should I be satisfied with? This imposter who stole my life gets to throw tantrums in my face every day, and I’m supposed to be grateful? You’re lucky I haven’t lost my temper. And who are you to lecture me? The family dog? Get out of my way.” I clutched the box and tried to push past him. The commentary had just flashed a new message: [The first kit is about to open his eyes! The first person he sees, he’ll recognize as his master! I think this one controls wealth, right? He’s gonna bring his owner insane financial luck.] Financial luck! A walking cash machine! If I could make this little guy my subordinate, I could finally start winning in this ridiculous novel. I wasn’t sure if Hailey could see the commentary, but she suddenly grew desperate, lunging for the box. “Cora, don’t be angry! I didn’t mean you were ignorant. It’s just… I’ve been the daughter of this family for eighteen years, and you just got here. I’m not looking down on you, really! And Ashton was just worried about me. You didn’t have to be so cruel.” I rolled my eyes, her words bouncing right off me. All I could think about was the message: [The alpha fox is about to wake up! His power is wealth! Hailey, baby, grab him! Once he imprints, it’s game over!] [I think the alpha transforms tonight, too. He’s so hot. 6’2″, pale skin, and legs for days.] I ignored the rest and bolted for my room, clutching the box. If I couldn’t make the fox imprint on me, I definitely wasn’t going to let Hailey have him. Hailey, sensing my urgency, grabbed my sleeve, her nails digging in. In the scuffle, the box fell from my hands. I heard a tiny yelp. In the chaos, my eyes met a pair of amber, animal eyes. Hailey’s face went pale, her own eyes instantly welling with tears. “Cora, I know you’ve had a hard life, but it wasn’t my fault! Punish me however you want, but why would you hurt these innocent animals? Please, just give them to me.” When force didn’t work, she switched to playing the victim. I ignored her completely and dove for the box. But a white blur shot out from inside and vanished in a flash. Damn it, one got away. Hailey gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Cora, I really didn’t mean for that to happen! If you hadn’t fought me for them, he wouldn’t have run away!” I shoved past both of them, grabbed the box, and sprinted to my room, locking the door behind me. As the lock clicked, I heard a faint rustling from inside the box. I lifted the lid. There were only two kits left, their eyes still sealed shut. The one with the amber eyes was gone. 3 My cash cow had escaped! Just then, the gloating commentary reappeared. [Hahaha, the alpha ran off! He’s probably going to find our sweet Hailey! What is this dumb heiress thinking? This is a villainess-reborn story! Anything our Hailey wants, she gets!] [Once Hailey gets the wealth fox, she’ll inherit the entire Song family fortune. Ashton will be hers too. They’re totally gonna seal the deal tonight, hehehe.] I was shaking with rage. How was this fair? The old fox was repaying me. These kits were meant for me. Now Hailey was the righteous one for stealing them? Just because she was the “villainess reborn,” she could ignore all basic decency? A loud banging started at my door. It was Ashton. “Cora, you’d better come out here and apologize to Hailey right now! Mom and Dad are coming back from their trip tonight. If they find out you’ve been fighting with her again, I’m not covering for you.” When I didn’t answer, he added coldly, “And don’t say I didn’t warn you. They’re going to be distributing company shares when they get back. You still want your allowance and tuition money, don’t you?” I let out another cold laugh. “And you think they’ll actually give it to me? Save it. You and Hailey are their real children. I’m just an outsider, right?” They treated their fake daughter better than their real one anyway. They’d only brought me back to be Hailey’s punching bag. Did anyone really care if I lived or died? Instead of waiting for their pitiful handouts, I’d put my faith in these foxes. 4 I didn’t leave my room that night. My parents didn’t bother to check on me. The next morning, they left for school without me. After I was brought back to the Song family, I was enrolled in the same elite private high school as Hailey and Ashton. A luxury car was supposed to take us every day, but Hailey had been telling everyone at school that I was her maid’s daughter, and that she only brought me along out of pity. She’d even encouraged the other students to bully and isolate me. I didn’t have a single friend. I tucked the two remaining kits into a hidden compartment in my bag and took a series of public buses to school. According to the commentary, in the original story, the alpha fox was supposed to have transformed last night. He would have accompanied Hailey to school today and delivered my first major humiliation. As I walked into the classroom, the commentary popped up again. [Here comes the real heiress! Showtime! Today’s the day she wins first place in that essay contest and gets the $50,000 prize, right?] [Yep! And she was going to send it to her blind grandma in the country for eye surgery. But our Hailey intercepts it! The poor girl has no idea the alpha fox already swapped her essay with a plagiarized one. As long as the alpha is with Hailey, all of the protagonist’s good luck gets stolen.] [Serves her right! Why should she get all the good stuff just for acting pitiful? Finders keepers, losers weepers!] I ignored the comments and looked at Hailey. Sure enough, a boy in the school uniform was standing beside her. He had a shock of silver-white hair, and his skin was so pale it was almost luminous. Even his eyelashes were white. He was unnaturally beautiful. He stood obediently by Hailey’s side as she reached up and ruffled his hair, as if summoning a puppy. “This is my friend,” she announced to the class. “He’ll be coming to school with Ashton and me from now on. Don’t any of you mess with him.” When she saw me, her smile widened. “Sorry, Cora. Ashton was craving a burrito from that place on the south side, so we left a little early. We forgot to wake you.” I just smiled back and walked calmly toward her. “You’d better hope you actually forgot and aren’t just putting on an act. You know whether it was intentional or not.” With that, I kicked over my own desk. A few mice and a small, bright green snake scurried out. These little tricks had been happening since my first day. I was used to it. I’d put up with it because the Songs were paying for my grandmother’s care. But yesterday, the commentary had revealed the truth. The Songs were going to force my grandmother to move, and then, on Hailey’s instruction, they were going to cut off the nursing home payments, leading to my grandmother’s death from neglect. I was done being patient. I was taking back everything she had stolen from me. The classroom erupted in screams. I, however, simply pinned the writhing snake with my foot, grabbed it by the head, and dangled it in front of Hailey’s face. The snake flicked its tongue, hissing. Hailey’s eyes widened in terror, her face ashen. “Are you insane, Cora? Get that thing away from me! GET IT AWAY!” Ashton immediately tried to intervene, but he was too afraid of the snake to get close. “Cora, what the hell is wrong with you? That snake is poisonous! If you have a problem, take it out on me, not Hailey!” I glanced at him. “I’ll deal with you after I’m done with her. Don’t worry.” I was about to drop the snake down the collar of Hailey’s uniform when the white-haired boy frowned and grabbed my hand—and the snake. I looked at him and saw them—the same amber, animal eyes. It was the transformed alpha fox. We stared at each other for a moment. He blinked, a look of confusion on his face. 5 Seeing that someone had stopped me, Hailey’s fear vanished. A triumphant smirk appeared on her face. “Do you hate me that much, Cora? That snake is poisonous! Do you really want me dead? Too bad, it looks like fate isn’t on your side today.” She preened. “Thank goodness for my dear Fenris. Oh, well. A little punishment is fine, I guess. After all, you’ve suffered so much.” But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Fenris—that must have been his name—let go of my hand. His amber eyes grew moist, and his nose twitched. The next thing I knew, he was bending down and rubbing his fluffy white head against my chin. “You… you smell so good,” he murmured. I was so startled that my grip loosened, and the snake slithered out of my hand, landing right inside Hailey’s collar. She shrieked, clawing at her uniform and running around the classroom like a madwoman. No one dared to help her. Ashton just stood there, pale-faced, swatting at her clothes with a textbook. The classroom was in utter chaos. Someone finally called security, and the snake was removed. Hailey glared at Fenris, who was now clinging to my hand. Her eyes filled with tears. “Fenris, I’m your master! How could you protect someone else? Have you forgotten who took you in? How could you do this to me?” Fenris looked from Hailey to me, his expression torn. “I was just…” He seemed utterly confused, but in the end, he moved to stand behind Hailey. Hailey shot me a venomous look, but then a cold smile spread across her face. “You’re feeling pretty smug right now, aren’t you, Cora? But what does it matter? You’ll never win against me.” The commentary exploded. [That’s right, Hailey, baby! Don’t back down! We love a villainess! Does she really think she’s the heiress now? Her parents don’t even care about her.] [But what was that just now? Why did Fenris act all cute with Cora? Does he know she was his original master?] [No way. Our Hailey performed a blood bond with him last night. He only recognizes her as his master.] [Just wait. Cora’s about to have a meltdown when she finds out the prize money she’s been dreaming of is going to Hailey instead. It’s gonna be epic.] I read the comments, a secret smile playing on my lips. Hidden in my hand, I clutched a small tuft of white fox fur.

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After Genevieve’s 99th fight with her boy toy, she came to me in tears. “Kneel and apologize to him,” she said, smirking. “Our son triggered him.” I knew she meant it—last time I refused, she killed my dog and stopped my mother’s medical payments. I’d endured it all for our son. Until yesterday. She deliberately gave our son his deadliest allergen. Watching him go into shock in my arms, my heart turned to ash. As she berated me, I handed her divorce papers. “He’s bored of seeing me kneel,” I said softly. “Let’s try divorcing to please him.” She looked triumphant. “Finally learning to please me.” I smiled—not to please her, but to destroy her. For good. 1 “Don’t worry, as soon as Chase forgives me, we’ll get remarried,” Genevieve said as she signed the papers. She was so confident in my undying devotion that she didn’t even bother to read the agreement. But when the clerk handed us our official divorce certificates, she froze for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something unreadable on her face. She turned as if to say something to me, but at that moment, Chase swept her into his arms. “Genevieve, you actually divorced him for me! I love you so much,” he exclaimed, cupping her face and kissing her deeply. The courthouse employees exchanged awkward glances, their eyes settling on me with a shared look of pity. The poor bastard whose ex-wife was making out with her lover on the courthouse steps the very day of their divorce. I calmly averted my gaze and pushed open the doors. As I stepped outside, the sky erupted in a million-dollar fireworks display. Genevieve’s indulgent voice drifted from behind me. “I had them custom-made for you, Chase. When they burst, they’ll spell out your name.” I stood rooted to the spot. I had once dreamed of this for our own wedding. But back then, Genevieve’s company was just starting out, and money was tight. Not wanting to burden her, I had bought cheap, garish fireworks from a corner store myself. I remember smiling, perfectly content, as the low-budget sparks sputtered across the sky. Genevieve had teared up, hugging me tight and making a promise. “Liam, I swear I’ll make this up to you. One day, I’ll have them write your name across the sky.” We eventually made more money than we could ever spend. But that promise vanished, as if it had never been made. Watching the sky light up for another man, I finally understood. Her love hadn’t disappeared. It had just found a new place to bloom. “Daddy!” A cheerful shout pulled me from my reverie. My son, Leo, let go of his nanny’s hand and launched himself into my arms like an excited puppy. Today was his birthday. Genevieve and I had promised to take him to the amusement park together. I looked over at her, but the moment she saw our son, she froze. That same blank look. She’d forgotten. Again. I’d lost count of the times it had happened. Forgetting his birthday, missing his school plays. Each time, I would patiently explain to everyone, “Leo’s mom is just so busy. She’s away on a business trip.” Then I’d see her on some celebrity news channel, strolling through the streets of Paris with Chase. After six years of marriage, my face was numb from being metaphorically slapped. The pity in the eyes of our friends and family was a constant presence, but I’d taught myself not to care. But when other kids on the playground started pointing at my son, calling him a “bastard” with “no mom,” and he would bury his face in my chest and sob uncontrollably—that’s when I could no longer lie to myself. Genevieve didn’t love our son. And she certainly didn’t love me. 2 Still, for Leo’s sake, I wanted to try one last time. But before I could speak, a boy about Leo’s age hopped out of Genevieve’s sports car. It was Aiden, Chase’s son from his previous marriage. Chase gave me an oily smile. “Sorry, Liam. Genevieve insisted we all come along. Hope we’re not intruding.” I stood there, frozen. With one casual sentence, he had shattered the day my son had been looking forward to for an entire year. Genevieve glanced at my pale face, then guiltily looked away. “They’re around the same age. They can play together.” Leo’s eyes were glued to the sight of his mother’s hand intertwined with Aiden’s. A look of pure confusion clouded his small face. My heart clenched, and the words I wanted to say died in my throat. Aiden was dressed in a bespoke miniature suit, his hair perfectly styled, standing proudly between Genevieve and Chase. He looked like the guest of honor. And then there was my son, in his simple jeans and t-shirt, standing awkwardly by my side. Suddenly, I’d had enough. I scooped Leo into my arms and turned to leave. “Liam, what’s your problem?” Chase called out, stepping in front of me. He feigned a look of hurt. “Are Aiden and I bothering you?” His fingernails dug sharply into my arm, hidden from view. The pain was sharp, and I instinctively yanked my arm away. It wasn’t a hard shove, but Chase crumpled to the ground dramatically. “Liam, why would you hit me?” he cried out, his face a mask of bewildered innocence. “All I wanted was for us to get along!” My arm throbbed. I was shaking with rage. Before I could utter a word, a sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Genevieve had slapped me. “What kind of father are you?” she shrieked. “Beating someone up in front of your own son!” It was a vicious blow. The sharp edge of a key on her ring sliced across my cheek, and a warm trickle of blood ran down my face. Leo immediately scrambled in front of me, stretching out his thin arms to protect me. “Don’t hit my daddy!” he sobbed. I barely felt the cut. All I could see was my son’s small, trembling back, and beyond him, the woman who was supposed to be his mother, shielding her lover and his child. Something inside me snapped. Genevieve could neglect me. She could stop loving me. But how could she, again and again, be so cruel to our child? I stumbled forward, wrapped my arms around Leo, and covered his tear-filled eyes. I turned to walk away, my resolve hardening into steel. As I moved, Genevieve, having finished checking on her precious Chase, turned and saw the blood streaming down my face. Her eyes widened. She rushed over, her voice laced with panic as she tried to press a handkerchief to the wound. “Oh god, you’re bleeding so much. Liam, I wouldn’t have… if you hadn’t pushed him, I never would have…” I looked at her, my vision blurry, a profound and desolate sadness washing over me. It didn’t matter what I said. In her eyes, Chase was always the victim, and I was always the aggressor. Because of him, I had lost my pet, my wife’s affection, and even… my ability to have more children. The first time I caught them, I had brought her a home-cooked meal at her office, only to find them naked and tangled together on her desk. I went insane. I lunged at him, but Genevieve threw herself between us. I shoved her aside, and in the ensuing chaos, Chase delivered a savage kick to my groin. That single blow left me sterile. Seeing the single tear that escaped my eye now, Genevieve faltered, a flash of genuine pain in her expression. She reached out to wipe it away, but just then, Chase let out a choked sob from behind her. “I’m so sorry,” he wailed. “This is all my fault. I never should have come between you two.” Then, he turned and sprinted directly into the busy street. Horns blared. Tires screeched. Without a moment’s hesitation, Genevieve let go of me and ran after him. My son and I shared a quiet, knowing look. We got in the car. As we drove past, I saw Chase, perfectly safe, holding Genevieve in a tight embrace. He met my eyes over her shoulder, the guilt on his face replaced by a cold, triumphant smirk. He was telling me he’d won. But I no longer cared about the game. 3 That night, Leo and I moved into another one of our properties. But around eleven, Genevieve showed up uninvited. The cold, silent look on my face as I opened the door clearly annoyed her. “We’re just divorced, Liam, I didn’t say you could move out,” she snapped, striding past me. “We’ll be remarried in a few days anyway. Why make such a fuss?” She plopped down on the sofa, admiring the decor. Her eyes landed on the family portrait on the wall, and she froze. The photo that once held three people now only held two. Her image had been neatly cut out. A surge of irritation rose in her. She turned to yell at me but then noticed the bandage on my head from where she’d hit me. A flicker of guilt crossed her face. She reached out to touch it, but I stepped back, avoiding her hand. Her hand hung awkwardly in the air, her expression unreadable. I didn’t offer her the usual comfort or care. I just pointed to a guest room. “You can sleep there. Or you can go back to your own place.” I turned and walked into my bedroom. But as I went to close the door, she slipped inside, pressing her warm body against mine. “Honey,” she whispered, her voice husky. “It’s been so long since you’ve touched me.” She was completely oblivious to my resistance, acting as if I were the same old Liam, always at her beck and call. But this time, I shoved her away. Hard. And then, I slapped her across the face. Stunned, she reeled back, her shock quickly turning to fury. But as she raised her hand to strike back, her eyes fell on my left hand. She grabbed it, her voice trembling. “Where’s your ring?” Our wedding bands were simple silver rings. We were poor when we got married, but we wore them with so much joy. After she made her fortune, she bought me countless expensive, designer rings, but I never wore them. She knew what this simple silver band meant to me. In ten years of marriage, through all the fights and betrayals, I had never taken it off. Now, it was gone. Genevieve’s heart began to pound. A terrifying, unfamiliar panic seized her. “Let’s go get our marriage license back tomorrow,” she said, her voice tight. I pulled my hand from her grasp. My mother was gone. I had full custody of our son. She had no leverage over me anymore. “Leave,” I said. She stood frozen, as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “What did you say?” I put more distance between us. “You heard me.” Silence hung in the air for a beat, and then her eyes darkened as the reality of the situation finally crashed down on her. Her voice shook. “This was all a trick, wasn’t it? You used our divorce to force me to break up with Chase!” I almost laughed. Did she really think, even now, that this was about him? But my silence was all the confirmation she needed. “Fine,” she hissed, jabbing a finger at me. “Fine. Fine! I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness!” She stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. The noise woke Leo, who wandered out of his room, rubbing his eyes. I scooped him up, held him close, and gently soothed him back to sleep. Looking at his peaceful face, a profound sense of contentment filled me. This was all that mattered now. The next morning, I woke up early for Leo’s parent-teacher conference. As we walked into the classroom, I saw them. Genevieve, Chase, and Aiden, sitting together. They looked like a perfect, happy family. In the seven years of Leo’s life, Genevieve had never once attended a school event. He’d been taunted for it, but he was always too considerate to tell me. But seeing it now, laid bare like this, was a truth he couldn’t ignore. Tears welled in his eyes, and he turned and ran from the room. Genevieve looked guilty and started to get up, but Chase put a hand on her arm, stopping her. My heart hammered in my chest. I turned and ran after my son. As I rounded the corner, Chase and a couple of his buddies caught up to me. He slammed his fist into my face. “Have some dignity, Liam,” he sneered. “You’re divorced. Stop using your kid to emotionally blackmail Genevieve.” His friends chimed in. “Yeah, what a loser. Like father, like son. Faking tears for attention.” “Pathetic!” they howled with laughter.

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The night before our wedding, my fiancée Debi’s stepbrother locked her in the master suite, a lit Zippo held threateningly over her wedding dress. “Debi, if you dare wear this to marry that old man tomorrow, I’ll burn this entire apartment to the ground!” Debi lunged for the lighter, but he slammed her against the wall, pinning her there. “I’ve waited ten years for you, Debi! Since the day you first walked into our house! If you marry him, I’ll kill myself right here in front of you!” I kicked the door open. But Debi spun around, shielding her stepbrother with her own body, her eyes red as she glared at me. “Julian Sinclair, have you not caused enough trouble? He’s only nineteen! Can’t you just let it go for once?” The next second, she yanked down the zipper of her dress, her voice ringing with a desperate, self-destructive finality. “Leo, what you want… I’ll give it to you. Tonight, I’m yours. But you have to promise me you’ll keep living.” I watched her drag him into the bedroom. I heard the click of the lock. Then, my face a mask of stone, I pulled out my phone. “Inform the guests the wedding is still on for tomorrow morning. And per my grandfather’s wishes, I’ll be marrying you.” … When the bedroom door finally opened, Debi was wearing Leo’s oversized shirt. The collar was askew, revealing a cluster of angry, purple bruises on her collarbone—bite marks. She was unsteady on her feet. She walked straight past me to the refrigerator, her voice flat. “Julian, don’t be hard on Leo. He’s just used to being clingy with me. It’s just a childish tantrum.” “‘Just’?” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “You’d throw away your own dignity just to pacify him?” Debi slammed a glass of water on the counter. “Enough! You know how much he means to me!” Hearing the commotion, Leo strolled out of the bathroom wearing a bathrobe. On the chest, embroidered in silk thread, were my initials. “Julian,” he began, a lazy smile on his face, “my sister has given me everything I’ve ever wanted, ever since we were kids. That includes…” He let out a soft chuckle and pulled open the lapel of the robe, deliberately revealing the fresh scratches on his chest. “She told me I was very good just now. Said if I behaved, there would be more nights like this…” “Leo!” Debi’s face flushed crimson. She grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it at him. “Say one more word and I swear—” Leo ducked to pick it up, then looked at me with a smirk. “See, Julian? She could never truly be cruel to me.” I watched them, brazen in the afterglow of their betrayal, and a bitter acid rose in my throat. Everyone in our circle knew I had pursued Debi for three years. If she so much as frowned, I’d spend half the day trying to figure out why. The day she agreed to be my girlfriend, I was ecstatic. I booked a private island and set off a fireworks display that lasted all night. For her, I had defied my grandfather’s fury and called off the arranged marriage with the Vance family. My relatives called me a fool, but all I wanted was for her to be happy. When she asked me to buy a villa on the outskirts of the city for Leo, I signed the contract without even looking at it. I had given them everything. I had been more than generous. “Julian, why are you making that face?” Debi walked towards me, reaching out to touch my cheek. I instinctively turned my head away. Her hand froze in mid-air, her voice turning to ice. “The wedding is tomorrow. Do you really have to make this so ugly?” “Ugly?” I stared at the ill-fitting shirt swallowing her frame. “And what you and Leo just did in our wedding bed, that wasn’t ugly?” “I was just—” “Don’t,” I cut her off, my patience gone. “Don’t bother explaining. It’s just a deep, profound sibling bond. So deep you had to take off your clothes and share a bed.” She opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by the sound of heels clicking in the hallway. Debi’s bridesmaids had arrived. Her best friend, the maid of honor, immediately spotted the marks on Debi’s neck and laughed teasingly. “Well, well. Not even married yet and Mr. Sinclair is already so eager.” “This has nothing to do with him!” Leo snapped. He wrapped an arm around Debi’s waist, pulling her close in a possessive display. “Her first time could only ever be with me.” The air in the room froze. The smile on her friend’s face stiffened. She tried to laugh it off. “He’s just a kid, joking around. Don’t take it seriously, Julian.” “Who’s joking?” Leo’s voice rose, laced with contempt. “She belongs to me! If you don’t believe me, go look in the bedroom. Her blood is still on the sheets!” “Leo!” Debi was trembling with rage. She slapped him hard across the face. He clutched his cheek, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You hit me? For this old man?” “That’s enough.” I turned and walked out. If I stayed another second, I wasn’t sure I could stop myself from doing something violent. “Julian, stop!” Debi ran after me, grabbing my arm. “Where are you going? Leo is still upset, you can’t leave!” Her friends chimed in. “Yeah, Julian, she’s going to be your wife tomorrow! You proposed three times before she said yes. You should cherish her!” “Besides, who even cares about virginity anymore? It’s not like she was cheating with some random guy. She was just comforting her brother.” “Leo’s young and impulsive. Just cut him some slack. You’re all going to be family soon.” “Impulsive?!” Leo pointed a shaking finger at me, his eyes bloodshot. “You think you’re so great with all your money, Julian? She loves me! It’s always been me!” He snatched his jacket from the sofa and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The moment it closed, Debi rounded on me, her eyes blazing. “Are you happy now, Julian? It took me two hours to calm him down, and you drove him away with a single word!” Two hours? The audacity. I looked at the undisguised accusation in her eyes and felt my throat tighten. Five years of my devotion meant less to her than one of her stepbrother’s tantrums. Debi grabbed her purse impatiently. “If anything happens to him, I will never forgive you!” She pulled open the door, only to be stopped by the sight of her parents standing by the elevator. They saw the bruises on her neck, their gazes sweeping over the disheveled apartment, and their faces went pale. “It’s the middle of the night, what are you two fighting about? Tomorrow is—” “Mr. and Mrs. Thorne,” I said, loosening my tie. “Good, you’re here. Let’s not beat around the bush.” “The wedding is off.” Mr. Thorne’s legs gave out, and he nearly collapsed. His wife caught him, her eyes wide with terror as she looked at me. “Julian… my dear boy… you can’t be serious. This isn’t a joke you can make!” “Does this look like a joke to you?” I stared at Debi, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Since you’ve been raising her future husband right here in your own home, why did you ever come begging to my family in the first place?” Her parents looked even more panicked. “Future husband? The Thorne family only acknowledges one son-in-law, and that is you.” I scoffed. “Since some people have no shame, let me spell it out. The bond between your children is so profound they ended up in the same bed. Since Debi loves her brother so dearly, and you know him so well, why not just make the adopted son your son-in-law? It’s all in the family, right?” Debi’s face went white. Her hand tightened on her purse. “Julian, what nonsense are you spouting!” “Nonsense?” Three years ago, it was her father who knelt in my office, begging me to save his company. Debi, always so proud, had humbled herself for the first time. “Julian, if you agree, I’ll be with you.” Her eyes had been defiant, devoid of any affection, only the numb desperation of someone cornered. After her parents left, she had kept her distance, her voice stiff. “This is a transaction, Julian. Nothing more.” I was the fool. I thought with enough time, enough devotion, I could warm a cold heart. Now I understood. You can’t force love from someone whose heart isn’t yours to begin with. Over the past three years, I had injected billions into their company, helped them acquire three of their main competitors, and even relinquished my own overseas distribution channels to them. In just three years, the Thorne family had gone from a small, failing factory to a major player, all on the back of my family’s resources. I thought I had given them enough. But in Debi’s eyes, none of it mattered as much as Leo. “Julian, it’s our fault! We failed to raise her properly!” Mr. Thorne fell to his knees before me. “Please, for the sake of all the years the Thorne family has served you, give her one more chance!” His wife started to cry. “Julian, she was just confused for a moment! The only person she’s ever wanted to marry is you!” Debi stood silently, her face flushed, her lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. It wasn’t until her friends had managed to escort her parents away that she finally unleashed her own fury. “Julian, my parents are old. Do you have to threaten them with the company?” “Threaten?” I laughed. She had a talent for twisting the truth. “You were the ones who came to me for help. If you truly cared about your parents, you would have known the consequences of betraying me.” She staggered back a step. Her phone rang. “Leo, where are you?” Whatever he said on the other end made the color drain from her face. Her lips trembled. “Don’t do anything stupid! I never said I was going to marry him! Just pull over—” She hung up and glared at me, her eyes wild. “Julian, Leo’s been drinking. He’s on the freeway! He said if I dare to marry you, he’s going to drive his car into a wall!” She took a step closer, her voice venomous. “If you have a single shred of conscience, you will stop pushing us!” I looked at the blatant threat in her eyes and found it almost funny. This was the woman I had cherished for three years, using our own wedding to protect the boy who wanted to sleep with her. “And?” I twisted my lips into a sneer. “You want me to go save him now?” “You…” Debi was shaking with rage, but then a cold, calculating look crossed her face. “Julian, don’t think I don’t know what you want.” “You just want me to beg you, don’t you? Fine. I’m begging you. Is that what you want to hear? Now go find him!” She paused, her voice laced with a desperate cruelty. “Otherwise, even if we get married tomorrow, I will never let you touch me! I’ll go on birth control, get my tubes tied, and make sure the Sinclair line ends with you!” I stared at her furious, defiant face and let out a low, dark laugh. End my family line? She gave herself far too much credit. I turned to leave, but then I noticed that the keys to my limited edition Maybach were gone from the console table. Leo must have taken them. Debi saw me freeze. A look of triumphant certainty spread across her face. “If I remember correctly, that car has a GPS tracker, doesn’t it?” “Even if you don’t care about Leo, you should at least care about that precious car you waited six months for.” A cold dread settled in my stomach. The car was just a thing. I could replace it. But hanging from the rearview mirror was the jade pendant my grandmother had left me. It was the last thing I had of her. “What are you waiting for?” Debi urged impatiently. “I’m telling you, if Leo does something crazy and gets hurt…” “Shut up.” I cut her off and dialed my assistant. “Bring a car to the apartment. And sync my Maybach’s GPS to my phone.” I looked back at her, my voice like ice. “And don’t ever bother me with your stupid threats again.” The car was waiting for me downstairs. I buckled my seatbelt and started driving towards the red dot on the GPS map. My phone rang again. I was about to ignore it, but when I saw the caller ID, I took a deep breath before answering. Isabelle Vance’s voice, calm and collected as always, came through the speaker. “Julian, are you sure about tomorrow? This isn’t just a fit of pique?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Do I seem like the kind of person who would gamble with a family alliance out of spite?” “No,” she said with a soft laugh. “But you do seem like the kind of fool who lets a woman cloud his judgment.” “Which is why I need a sober ally.” The Maybach’s icon was heading towards the winding mountain roads outside the city. I frowned. “Vance Industries wants to break into the European green energy market. The Sinclair network is your fastest way in. We get married. It’s mutually beneficial.” Isabelle was silent for a moment. “I have no interest in marrying a man who’s in love with someone else.” “As of tonight, he no longer exists,” I said, my eyes fixed on the rapidly moving red dot. “I’ll see you at the chapel tomorrow.” I hung up and floored it. At the end of the mountain road, I finally saw the familiar silhouette of my car. But then, it spun around and accelerated, hurtling straight towards me. I had no time to react. The blinding headlights seared my eyes. CRUNCH— The violent impact sent my car spinning out of control. My head slammed into the steering wheel, and hot blood streamed down my face. Pain exploded behind my eyes. Through the shattered windshield, I saw the Maybach’s door open. Leo stumbled out. In his hand was a small, glowing green object. My grandmother’s jade pendant. “This thing must be worth a lot, right?” I tried to crawl out, but a sharp pain in my ribs made me cry out, my body trembling. “Put it down…” “Put it down?” He kicked my car door. “You’ve been clinging to my sister for five years! Why don’t you let go?” He raised his hand and violently smashed the pendant on the asphalt. The crisp sound of it shattering echoed in the night. As if that wasn’t enough, he ground the pieces under his heel. “Leo!” I roared, the taste of blood flooding my mouth. “That was my grandmother’s—” “Your grandmother? Not even your ancestors can help you now!” He grabbed the front of my blood-soaked shirt and dragged me out of the car. He pointed to the bite marks on his neck. “My sister did this. Only I get to touch her body.” “You think she actually loves you? You’re just her ATM!” he crowed, his excitement growing. “The villa, the shares, the sports cars—every single thing she asked you for was for me!” He looked at me and threw his head back, laughing like a madman. “Julian Sinclair! You think you’re so powerful, don’t you?!” “You tried to take my sister from me! Now I’m going to send you to your death!” He grabbed my collar and started dragging me towards the cliff edge. Headlights swept across the scene. Debi jumped out of a car and ran towards us. “Leo! Are you okay?!” She threw her arms around him, checking him from head to toe. When she was satisfied he only had a few scrapes, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then she saw the blood pouring from my forehead and quickly looked away. Of course Leo was okay. I’d had that Maybach specially reinforced. It barely had a dent in the bumper. “Julian, did you do this on purpose?!” “Leo is my brother! You’re so vicious, you actually tried to kill him!” A cold laugh escaped my lips. “Debi, anyone with eyes can see that he hit me.” I pointed to the shattered jade on the ground, my voice dangerously low. “And he smashed the last memento my grandmother gave me!” Debi glanced at the jade fragments, her expression flickering for a second before she scoffed. “It’s just a piece of jade. The Sinclair family has plenty of money. I’ll buy you a better one tomorrow, how about that?” I looked at her and started to laugh. I laughed until my vision blurred, the tears stinging my eyes. Of course. In her world, everything had a price tag. My grandmother’s memory, my heart… none of it was worth as much as a moment of her lunatic brother’s happiness. She had climbed so high on my generosity that she’d forgotten who had given her the money to be so reckless in the first place. Leo, hiding behind her, mouthed two words at me: You lose. The pain was overwhelming. My fingers trembled as I fumbled for my phone. It took several tries to dial my assistant. “Tomorrow…” “The wedding is still on.” Leo immediately sneered. “See, sister? He’s on death’s door, and he’s not calling an ambulance. He’s still obsessed with marrying you.” Debi knelt in front of me. “Do you really want to marry me?” Before I could answer, she held up three fingers. “Fine. But you have to agree to my terms.” “First, set up a gaming company for Leo and fund it with one billion dollars.” “Second, transfer the ownership of your beachfront villa in Australia to him.” “Third, give him a thirty percent stake in all of your companies.” “Money is so vulgar,” she said, staring at my broken face. “What I want is for Leo to be set for life.” I looked at the undisguised greed in her eyes and turned my face away, saying nothing. The wail of sirens grew closer. The last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was their piercing cry. The hospital lights were harsh and white. The doctor said I had three broken ribs, a fractured left leg, and fifteen stitches in my forehead. My assistant stood by my bed, hesitating. “Sir, are you absolutely sure about marrying Ms. Vance?” I kept my eyes closed. “I don’t make decisions I regret.”

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Joey, the guy I was chasing, called me. “My little brother’s back in the country. My family’s throwing a party for him. I’ll take you, introduce you to everyone.” I glanced down at the Alpha currently buried against my scent gland. He lifted his head, gave me a slow wink, and the corner of his mouth curved into a smile. “Oh, we’ve already met.” His voice was a low murmur against my skin. “Stop chasing that scumbag brother of mine. Look at me instead.” “I might be younger than him, but I’m bigger in every other way that matters.” 1 Joey said he was craving Spicy Rabbit Skewers from that one place across town and told me to go get them for him. After waiting in line, I finally got back to the private room, only to hear the conversation drifting from inside. “Joey, man, you’ve been stringing Asher along for a year. You ever gonna actually say yes?” Joey’s voice was lazy, arrogant. “What do you know? I love watching him act like my personal lapdog.” “You think I’d actually get with a low-grade Omega like him? It’d be humiliating.” Someone else chimed in, “True. Who knows if he can even have kids.” Joey continued, “Besides, it’s fun keeping him on the hook.” “Every time he begs me for a temporary mark, he’s exactly like a dog.” Another voice asked, “So after all this time, have you slept with him or not?” “He’s got a temper, sure, but damn, he’s hot.” Joey shot that down. “Nah. A guy like Asher is too much trouble.” “Sleep with him once and I’d never get rid of him.” “But,” he added, a smirk in his voice, “it’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.” The room erupted in laughter, followed by a stream of crude, disgusting jokes. I stood frozen, unable to move. This wasn’t the Joey I knew. The Joey I knew was… different. He’d told me, “I’ve had insecurity issues since I was a kid. I need you to chase me for a while, to make me feel safe.” So I did. For a whole year. When he gave me a temporary mark, he’d praise me. “Asher, you’re so sexy.” He’d accept my gifts, let me dote on him like it was his birthright. The flirting, the suggestive touches—they were constant. I thought we were already a couple in all but name. All that was missing was a formal confession. I never imagined that in his eyes, I was just a dog he could summon and dismiss at will. That he’d never even considered being with me. What a two-faced bastard. I tossed the Spicy Rabbit Skewers I’d waited half an hour for into the nearest trash can and kicked the door to the room wide open. 2 Everyone inside jumped, startled. “Asher? What the hell? Use the handle, don’t kick the door.” Joey looked at my empty hands, his brow furrowed. “Where are my skewers?” I grabbed the nearest wine bottle and smashed it on the floor. Then I strode forward and slapped Joey hard across the face. “Skewers my ass!” I spat. “You’re the goddamn dog, Joey.” “Remember when your rut was so bad you begged me to release my pheromones? How is that any different from a bitch in heat?” “I’m done playing your games!” Joey’s face turned ashen, the public humiliation stinging him. I turned and walked out. Behind me, their disgusting conversation followed me into the hall. “Dude, you not gonna go after him?” Joey just laughed. “Even a cornered dog will bite back. He’s just blowing off steam.” “Let him. He’ll come crawling back tomorrow, apologizing.” Someone else piped up, “Alright then! Let’s drink.” “Assholes.” I muttered. Like hell I would. Fucking scumbag. I wandered the streets aimlessly. I’m a low-grade Omega with a pheromone disorder. When my heat hits, suppressants don’t work. I need the mark and soothing pheromones of a highly compatible Alpha. Joey and I had a 90% pheromone compatibility. I thought it was fate’s way of making up for all the other shit it had put me through. Joey had even shown interest in me so many times. He’d given me a temporary mark once. I hadn’t even asked; he’d offered. And now, to hear him talk about me like that… Fuck! This wasn’t a blessing. It was a pile of shit. An Omega with my looks could have any top-tier Alpha he wanted. And speak of the devil, one just appeared in front of me. Tall, handsome, wearing a dark gray overcoat and a striped scarf. Straight out of a K-drama. “Hey there,” he said with a charming smile. “Maybe you should consider me instead?” 3 I was already pissed off. “Who are you talking to?” I snapped. “Who are you calling ‘hey there’?” “You, of course,” he said, his tone teasingly intimate. “My name is Liam. I’m Joey’s younger brother.” I scoffed. “Get lost. The sight of anyone with your family name makes me sick.” He put on a wounded expression. “My brother’s a scumbag, but I’m not.” “Is it too late for me to change my last name?” Such a smooth talker. I ignored him and was about to call a cab when a strange heat flared at the back of my neck. Fuck. Of all the damn times. My heat was here. 4 My pheromones flooded the air, uncontrollable. Liam’s expression changed instantly. He whipped off his overcoat and draped it over my shoulders. “I’ll take you home.” I shoved his hand away. “I don’t need your help.” I fumbled for the emergency suppressants and pills I always carried, but I knew they were useless against my disorder. Liam pulled a wallet from his pocket, showing me his IDs. “Asher, I’m really Joey’s brother. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to you. The most important thing right now is to get you somewhere private.” He was right. The street was crowded. An Omega in heat could cause mass panic. Liam led me to his car. In the enclosed space, the sweet scent of osmanthus bloomed around me, thick and overwhelming. Veins pulsed on Liam’s forehead. I tried to inject another dose of suppressant. “Get out of the car,” I ordered him. He snatched the injector from my hand. “It’s not working. Stop. You’re only going to cause permanent damage to your body. And don’t take the pills either, they’ll ruin your glands.” How did he know so much? As my frustration mounted, another scent entered the air. Pine. Clean and fresh. The ache in my glands instantly subsided. It was working. Liam spoke carefully, “I released a little of my pheromones. Is that helping?” I nodded. It was. But it wasn’t nearly enough. The brief moment of calm gave way to an even more desperate craving. My eyes fixed on Liam’s lips. A primal urge, a raw desire, shattered my reason. I bit my tongue, hard, the coppery taste of blood a fleeting anchor to sanity. It held for a few seconds before the tidal wave of instinct crashed over me again. I must have been out of my mind. I met Liam’s eyes. “Give me a temporary mark.” 5 Turns out, Liam was all talk. He had to confirm with me three times before he dared to lean in. The scents of osmanthus and pine collided, tangling together in the small space of the car. My body went limp. Through a hazy blur, I felt Liam gently wipe a tear from my cheek. When had I started crying? My phone buzzed insistently against my leg. A series of texts from Joey. 【Alright, that’s enough. You really embarrassed me today.】 【Your heat is coming soon, isn’t it? Apologize to me, and I’ll give you a mark.】 I let out a bitter laugh and blocked his number without a second thought. A moment later, his call came through. “My little brother’s back in the country. My family’s throwing a party for him in a few days.” “You should come. I’ll introduce you.” I glanced at the Alpha currently nuzzling my scent gland. He lifted his head, gave me a slow wink, and smirked. “Oh, we’ve already met.” “Stop chasing that scumbag brother of mine. Look at me instead.” “I might be younger than him, but I’m bigger in every other way that matters.” “Oh, and by the way, our pheromone compatibility is one hundred percent.” Joey’s voice crackled from the phone. “Hello? Asher? Who’s that talking to you?” I ignored him and quickly hung up. I looked at Liam with renewed interest. “Is that so? Why don’t you strip and let me see for myself?” Liam’s ears instantly turned bright red. He glanced around nervously. “Here? I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Asher… maybe we should get a hotel room?” I just stared at him. “You said we have one hundred percent compatibility?” It sounded like a complete lie. But remembering how I’d lost control just moments ago, a seed of doubt was planted. My self-control had never been that weak. I dragged Liam to the hospital. It was the same doctor as before. He held up the report, his eyes wide with amazement. “One hundred percent compatibility! This is a one-in-a-century match! You two are a match made in heaven, soulmates!” I felt nothing. Doctor, if I remember correctly, you said the same thing about my ninety percent match with Joey. Liam, however, beamed, praising the doctor. “You have a way with words, sir.” It was late by the time we left the hospital. “See? I didn’t lie, did I? One hundred percent,” Liam said proudly. “How did you know?” He gave me a mysterious smile. “That’s a secret.” “A man over 25 is basically 60, and my brother is already 24.” “I’m only 20.” “Ninety percent and one hundred percent aren’t even in the same league. You should be with me. I’ll be your medicine, free of charge.” He was rambling, a chaotic mix of boasting and pleading. I was confused. “What’s in it for you?” “I like you. Give me a chance to pursue you.” My eyes darted away, my heart suddenly beating in a strange, erratic rhythm. How could I refuse a cure that had literally fallen from the sky? Liam was taller than Joey, and handsomer. And a one hundred percent match. It would be a crime against nature not to say yes. Fate had slapped me, then offered me a piece of candy. “Okay,” I said. Liam’s face lit up. “Asher, I’ll be your dog from now on.” The word “dog” made my blood boil. “Don’t be disgusting. What’s with all this dog talk? Your brother is the dog.” “Okay, okay!” Liam said quickly. “Then from now on, I’m your cat.” I was speechless. 6 A heat lasts for several days. Since he was my “medicine,” I took him home with me. Liam’s scent filled every corner of my apartment. Looking back, it was the calmest, most comfortable heat I had ever experienced. Once it was over, I kicked him out. As he was leaving, he said, “Asher, even though we’ve already met… I still hope you’ll come to the party.” He looked at me with wide, pleading eyes, as if he’d burst into tears if I said no. In the end, I agreed. The party was held in the garden of his family’s estate. The moment I arrived, I saw Joey and his pack of cronies. When Joey spotted me, he smirked. “See? What did I tell you? He came crawling right back.” I pretended not to hear and let my gaze find Liam, who was dressed in a sharp suit. He started walking towards me, but Joey grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. Joey looked over at me. “Asher, come here. Let me introduce you to my little brother.” “He was studying abroad for the last couple of years. Just got back, he’s a junior now. At our alma mater, actually.” Liam and I shared a small smile. I spoke slowly, “Nice to meet you. You’re much more handsome than your brother.” A grin tugged at Liam’s lips. Joey looked awkward. “Asher, stop being difficult.” He turned back to Liam to introduce me. “Bro, this is a classmate of mine from university. He’s also the one pursuing me.” I immediately corrected him. “Let’s be precise. Formerly pursuing you.” Joey’s arm snaked around my shoulder. “Don’t mind him, he’s been in a mood lately.” I shrugged his arm off. Joey studied me for a moment, then said, “Why do I smell osmanthus on you? Hey, Liam, isn’t your scent osmanthus?” I gave him a half-smile. “Maybe it’s my new cologne.” Joey seemed to relax. I didn’t linger. I was wandering around, bored, when someone pulled me into an empty room. Liam buried his nose in my neck. “You have my brother’s scent on you.” “Yeah? So what?” I asked. “I don’t like it. Let me cover it up.” Before I could react, Liam released his pheromones. As if that wasn’t enough, he wrapped his arms tightly around me. Damn, maybe he really was a dog after all. So territorial. 7 When Liam said he would pursue me, he wasn’t kidding. He sent food, flowers, and expensive gifts every few days. “You don’t have to send me gifts,” I told him. “Where does a college student get this kind of money?” He puffed out his chest. “My dad is rich, and I know how to make money too.” …As a hardworking Omega, I had no comeback for that. With Liam as my personal medicine, my pheromone disorder was no longer an issue. I was more focused and energetic at work than ever. One Friday night, I was curled up at home watching a movie when someone knocked on the door. I opened it to find a drowned little puppy on my doorstep. No, a drowned little kitten. Liam was soaked to the bone. He looked at me with pathetic, pleading eyes. “Asher, can I please stay with you for a bit?” According to his story, he’d gotten into a fight with his roommate. Then he’d had a blowout with his parents at home. Basically, he had nowhere else to go. I was skeptical. Fearing I would say no, he added, “I’m very clean, and quiet. I won’t bother you. Oh, and I can do chores. And cook.” And just like that, I let him stay. I had to admit, the kid could really cook. “How does a rich young master like you know how to cook?” I asked him over dinner. “It’s one of my hobbies.” He peeled a shrimp and placed it in my bowl. Fair enough. After Liam moved in, my life didn’t just remain undisrupted; it actually improved. He had no bad habits and was emotionally stable. The only downside was his tendency to walk around the apartment shirtless, showing off his well-defined muscles. One evening, he came out of the shower, bare-chested as usual. I was about to scold him when I noticed something was off about him. He quickly shut himself in his room. I knocked on the door. “Liam? What’s wrong?” His voice came out strained and broken. “My… rut is here.” I was speechless. Liam took a few days off from school, took suppressants, and locked himself in his room. I went to work as usual. When I got home, I noticed my pillow and a set of my pajamas were missing from my room. I pushed open Liam’s door. All my missing things were piled on his bed. The kid was nesting. A weak-looking Liam lifted his head from my pajamas and pleaded, “Asher… can I have just a little of your scent?” Before I could answer, a loud knocking came from the front door. It was Joey’s voice. “Asher, you home? Open up.”

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A secondary explosion tore through the chemical plant. While others fled, I charged back into the inferno for evidence—and never emerged. Afterward, my own captain, Cole Sullivan, claimed I’d abandoned my team to die a coward. My name was stripped from the honor wall; my family shamed. My fiancée Maya called me a coward, then married Cole with my death benefits. They didn’t know Cole had watched me run back—then deliberately misreported my location. I was buried alive under molten wreckage, my body lost. Five years later, excavators found a skeleton in my turnout gear, frozen mid-charge. In its hand: a fireproof evidence box. Cole. Maya. Hell is empty. I have returned. 1 At the ruins of the chemical plant, the iron claw of the excavator slowly lifted, revealing a human skeleton to the assembled crew. Five years. I had been trapped here for five long years. “Look at that posture…” a young firefighter named Leo stared, wide-eyed. “He was still charging forward when he died.” “Charging toward what?” Lieutenant Miller, a grizzled veteran, sneered. “Just some deserter who abandoned his team to save his own skin. If he hadn’t run, our losses wouldn’t have been so devastating that day.” My soul trembled in the air. A deserter? Me? I ran back into the core of that explosion to get the evidence proving the plant was illegally dumping toxic waste. A familiar figure in the crowd caught my eye. Maya. She was the battalion chief now, her posture as proud and straight as ever, but her eyes held a new, chilling coldness. The man standing beside her was Cole Sullivan. My brother-in-arms. Her husband. Cole gently draped his coat over Maya’s shoulders, his eyes soft with affection. “Don’t catch a chill.” Maya nodded, her gaze falling on my skeleton, her expression unreadable. After a moment, her face hardened. “Treat it as an unidentified body. Have it cremated as soon as possible.” “Yes, Chief,” Leo answered, though he couldn’t help but glance at my remains again. “Chief, what’s that thing clutched in its hand?” Maya’s pupils contracted slightly. But it was Cole who spoke first. “Just some junk from the rubble. Get rid of it with the rest.” He walked toward my skeleton, intending to pry my fingers open. But my bones had fused with the box in the intense heat; they wouldn’t budge. “Forget it,” Cole said, stepping back, feigning indifference. “Chief, where should we transport the remains?” Again, Cole answered for her. “Take them to the unmarked cemetery on the outskirts of town. Cremation is tomorrow. And keep this quiet.” “Understood.” Maya gave a slight nod. I watched them turn and walk away, a storm of hatred churning within me. My soul followed them, drawn back to a place that was once supposed to be mine. The moment they walked through the door, my spirit recoiled. On the wall hung a wedding portrait of Maya and Cole, their smiles radiating pure joy. This was the home Maya and I had chosen together. This was where we had planned our future. She’d said she wanted our wedding photo to hang on this very wall. Now, someone else’s picture filled that space. Cole poured two glasses of red wine with practiced ease, handing one to Maya. “Don’t dwell on it. He’s a dead coward, Maya. Not worth another thought.” Coward? I stared at him, wanting to rip the word from his throat. Maya took the glass and walked to the window. “I just never thought… after five years… that he’d be dug up.” Her voice was quiet, devoid of emotion. Cole came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “You know, if it wasn’t for Ethan’s death benefits, we wouldn’t have been able to afford this place so quickly. In a way, we should be thanking him.” My death benefits? The money I had paid for with my life had become the seed money for their new beginning. I saw her body go rigid for a second, but she didn’t pull away. She didn’t even push him off. “Cole, don’t say that.” “What? Still feel sorry for him?” Cole’s voice held a note of annoyance. “Maya, he’s been dead for five years. And besides, after what he did…” Maya turned in his arms and hugged him. “It’s all in the past. I’m so glad I have you, Cole.” 2 As I watched them embrace, the hatred inside me swelled anew. Maya was the one to speak first. “Cole, let’s go to the city records office tomorrow.” “The records office?” he asked, puzzled. “To take Ethan’s name off the deed and add yours. So this can truly be our home.” Cole froze for a moment, then pulled her into a tight hug. “Maya, are you sure?” “I’m sure,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “The dead are gone. We have to look forward. This house belongs to the living. It belongs to our future.” “Then we’ll go first thing tomorrow,” Cole murmured, kissing her forehead. “From now on, this will be our real home.” Hearing those words, my soul shuddered violently. I had bought this house with my life savings and every penny my parents had scraped together over a lifetime. Now, she was going to erase the last trace of my existence from it with her own hands. It was spring, eight years ago. I was on one knee, holding a diamond ring. “Maya Reed, will you marry me?” She nodded through her tears. “Ethan Ryder, yes.” We held each other in this very house, and she told me she wanted our wedding photo to hang on that wall. I told her it would be the most beautiful picture ever taken. My gaze shifted to Cole. My brother-in-arms. There was a high-rise fire. A slab of precast concrete was falling from the sky. Without a second thought, I shoved him out of the way. The concrete shattered across my back, a mess of blood and pulverized flesh. “Ethan!” Cole cradled me, his tears splashing onto my face. “Why did you do that? Why did you take that for me?” “Because you’re my brother,” I had coughed, blood staining my smile. The incident left a hideous, sprawling scar on my back. Every time Maya saw it in the shower, she would trace its edges with a feather-light touch. “Does it hurt?” “Not anymore. It was worth it for my brother.” Back then, Cole had been overwhelmed with gratitude. We drank straight from the bottle. “Ethan, you saved my life. I’m your brother for life!” “Don’t say that. We’d take a bullet for each other.” Drunk and emotional, we’d ended up weeping in each other’s arms. He said he would die for me. I said I would die for him. After that, he started showing up more and more. “Maya, I got you this new skin cream. I heard it’s really good.” “Maya, you work so hard. I made you some soup.” “Maya, I washed your car for you. Don’t wear yourself out.” More than once, Maya had complained to me. “Ethan, do you think Cole has feelings for me?” “He’s always buying me things. It feels inappropriate.” “Can you please talk to him? Ask him to stop?” And every time, I made excuses for him. “Maya, he’s just grateful I saved his life. He’s transferring that gratitude to you.” “He doesn’t mean any harm. He’s just not good at expressing himself.” “We’re brothers. He would never do anything to hurt me.” Maya would frown. “But I just feel…” “Don’t overthink it,” I’d interrupt. “I know Cole. He would never betray me.” Thinking back on it now, I was a goddamn fool. All of his “concern” was just laying the groundwork for this hostile takeover. Every thoughtful word, every gift, every gentle look was a subtle chisel, chipping away at Maya’s defenses. And I, the idiot, was his biggest advocate. The man I trusted most stabbed me in the back. Well played, Cole. Well played. 3 My mind was pulled back to the inferno of five years ago. Three hours before the second explosion, a crowd of anxious family members had gathered outside the plant. “Please, you have to investigate! My husband was injured because of their safety violations!” A middle-aged woman clutched my sleeve, her eyes filled with tears. “The plant knew the equipment was faulty, but they made the workers use it anyway! Now my husband is in the hospital, and they’re blaming it on operator error!” I glanced over at the plant manager, who was in a quiet conversation with several men in suits. Noticing my stare, he sauntered over. “Captain, these people are emotional. Don’t take them too seriously. Our safety measures are all up to code. There are no violations.” His tone was breezy, as if the injured workers were nothing more than a statistic. “Is that so?” I looked at him coldly. “Then why did my team find so many safety hazards during our last inspection?” The manager’s expression faltered for a second before he recovered. “Those were minor issues, nothing that would affect operational safety. Besides, anything that was a problem has been taken care of.” I knew he was lying. Looking at the desperate faces of the families, I made a silent vow. If I got the chance, I would get justice for these innocent people. Three hours later, the alarms shrieked. A secondary explosion was imminent. I gave the order for a full retreat. “All units, evacuate immediately!” My team pulled back, their faces illuminated by the roaring flames. As we fell back, I caught sight of the safe in the plant manager’s office. The evidence of his criminal negligence was likely inside—the only thing that could bring justice for the men who had been sacrificed for profit. I stopped. If that evidence burned, those workers would have died for nothing. Their families would never see a dime of compensation, would never see justice done. I activated the recorder on my helmet, speaking directly to the lens. “Maya, if I don’t make it back, live for me. And please… forget me. I love you.” With that, I turned and ran back into the sea of fire. In my peripheral vision, I saw Cole standing at the edge of the safe zone. He saw me. Our eyes met. He was my brother. I thought he would understand my choice. The flames were devouring everything. I smashed the safe open and pulled out the fireproof evidence box. Just then, Cole’s voice came through my radio, sharp and clear. “Command, I have a visual on Ryder! He’s in the southeast warehouse sector!” I froze. The southeast sector? That was in the opposite direction of my position. It was the area that was about to be completely obliterated by the next blast. Why would he report the wrong location? “Copy that. Rescue teams, proceed to the southeast sector immediately!” Command’s response chilled me to the bone. Cole was lying. He was deliberately sending the rescue team the wrong way. BOOM! The world collapsed around me. Steel and concrete rained down. In the final moment before I was buried, I finally understood. This wasn’t an accident. It was murder. 4 My skeleton was supposed to go straight to the crematorium, to be turned into a pile of anonymous ash. But Leo didn’t follow Maya’s orders. The quiet young firefighter took my remains and filed a report that went above his chief’s head. His reasoning was simple: a firefighter, even a disgraced one, didn’t deserve to be disposed of like trash. I watched Leo write every word of that report, a strange mix of emotions stirring within my soul. After five years, someone was finally speaking up for me. My skeleton was sent to a specialized forensic institute. Technicians in white gloves carefully cleaned my bones. When they got to my hand, they all stopped. My fingers were locked in a death grip around the warped black box. Not even death had made me let go. “What is this thing?” a young examiner asked. Chief Davis, a veteran from the city’s main fire investigation unit, arrived on the scene. When he saw the special insignia on the box, his face changed instantly. It was the mark of a specially-made, fire-rated evidence container. He’d been in the service for over twenty years and had seen them before. They were designed to protect crucial evidence, capable of withstanding thousands of degrees of heat. “Would a deserter die protecting an evidence box?” Davis’s question hung in the silent room. It took the forensic team a great deal of effort to finally free the box from my rigid finger bones. When they opened it, everyone was stunned. The documents inside were perfectly preserved. Proof of the factory’s safety violations, the true records of worker casualties, and audio recordings of the plant manager. The evidence that should have come to light five years ago, I had protected with my life. Chief Davis’s hands were shaking. He finally understood. I wasn’t a deserter. I was a hero. “Keep cleaning!” he ordered. As a technician worked on my crushed helmet, he suddenly shouted, “Chief! The recorder’s memory card is still intact!” Though the helmet camera was smashed to pieces, the military-grade memory card had survived. It was the only hope of uncovering the full truth. Davis immediately ordered a media blackout and classified the memory card as top secret. He personally escorted it to the tech department, demanding a full data recovery. “I don’t care what it costs or how long it takes. I want every frame of data from that card.” I watched as that tiny chip was carried away with the utmost care. For the first time in five years, my silenced soul felt a glimmer of light. The truth was finally coming out.

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