Category: English

I envied the CEO’s sister Rachelle, whose desk neighbored mine. While I slaved 9-to-9 for 3K/month, she earned 300K doing nothing. She could even throw wine at investors—her brother made me apologize. Then the Clarkes learned Rachelle wasn’t their blood. I was. “They’ll see you as an intruder,” my friend warned. “And your brother’s obsession with her is psychotic.” I shrugged. “Who returns to wealth just to beg for love?” But if they dared give Rachelle even one share of mine—then we’d have a problem. 1 The Clarke family held a press conference for me. The great Miss Clarke, who used to sip bubble tea while dumping her work on my desk, was now sitting in the main seat, her eyes red and puffy. I found it strange. As the long-lost heiress being welcomed back, why was I seated in the secondary position? Just as I was about to make a statement, Rachelle suddenly stood up, burst into tears, and ran off. The moment she ran, my former boss and now-brother, CEO Leo Clarke, along with Mr. and Mrs. Clarke, all followed her out. The entire venue, with its thousand-plus attendees, was left staring at me. Me, all alone on the stage. My toes were curling in my shoes from the sheer awkwardness. I was contemplating telling a joke to lighten the mood when the sound system suddenly crackled to life with the voices of the Clarke family. “It’s okay, darling. We’re just acknowledging her. You are still the one and only princess of the Clarke family.” That was my father’s voice. Then came my brother’s. “Exactly, Rachelle. At the end of the day, she’s just an employee under my command. If she knows her place, I might grace her by calling her ‘sister.’ But if she tries to take anything that’s yours, I’ll kick her out of the company so fast her head will spin.” The crowd below started murmuring. “Oh no, they forgot to turn off their microphones!” I buried my face in my hands. I’d worked for that idiot Leo Clarke for years. A man so obsessed with public relations would never make such a rookie mistake. It was obvious. This was intentional. A public declaration of my status, a power play to put me in my place. The gazes that were once filled with envy now dripped with contempt. Then, my mother’s voice. “Don’t you worry, sweetie. We just won’t let her move into the manor. You’ll still be the only princess there.” The scrutinizing glares of the crowd felt like they were physically burning my skin. Anyone else would have scurried off the stage in shame. But I stayed glued to my chair, waiting for the full fifteen minutes it took for them to return. When they saw me still sitting there, brazenly refusing to leave, their faces darkened. They clearly hadn’t expected me to be this shameless. What a joke. I’d finally gotten my ticket to the high life. Only a fool would give it up over a few stupid comments. “Ahem, well, Melissa,” my mother began, her voice strained. “You’ve come back so suddenly, we haven’t had time to prepare a room for you. Why don’t you stay in your apartment for now? I’ll give you a living allowance. You can find a nicer place.” A ten-thousand-square-foot manor, and they needed time to “prepare” a room? It was just a flimsy excuse to keep me out. Rachelle, hiding behind my mother, shot me a triumphant smirk. I nodded. “Fine.” My CEO brother gave me a look that screamed, Good, you know your place. “But,” I said, my tone shifting, “since I’m back, a living allowance can’t be all there is, right?” I locked eyes with them. “I heard you prepared a portfolio of shares for ‘sister.’ Where’s mine?” Their jaws dropped. 2 Leo was clearly used to ordering me around. He slipped right back into his boss-to-subordinate attitude. “What nonsense are you talking about? Are you in any position to be asking for that?” I nodded and stood up. “Alright then. I see you’re not sincere about welcoming me back. In that case, I won’t bother.” And I actually started to walk away. My mother rushed to stop me. They were a prominent family, after all. The news of the switched-at-birth scandal had already spread. If it got out that their real daughter refused to acknowledge them, it would be a major embarrassment. “We need to discuss the shares. We’ll give them to you later.” “No. Now.” We’re all adults here. Did they really think I’d fall for such a transparent delay tactic? Leo frowned. “Stop making a scene!” “Look at this,” I said, addressing the room. “As your biological daughter and sister, you won’t even let me live in my own home, and you’re refusing to give me any compensation. What’s the point of this sham press conference?” “And I’m guessing these reporters are your trained dogs, too? I’m leaving.” “Sister!” Rachelle called out, her eyes red. She bit her lip, the corners of her eyes flushed. “You… you’ve misunderstood. What I meant was… I was afraid you wouldn’t be used to the new environment, so I thought it would be better for you to stay in your apartment for a while.” I laughed. “Miss Clarke, only the rich have trouble adjusting to a poor person’s home. Have you ever heard of a poor person not being able to adapt to a grand manor?” Rachelle’s eyes grew redder, tears threatening to fall. “I… I’m sorry. I’ll have you come home then…” Leo stepped in front of her. “If you don’t know how to talk, then keep your mouth shut.” “And what business is it of yours?” I shot back. Leo was stunned. As his corporate workhorse, I’d always been smiles on the outside, curses on the inside. “Mr. Clarke, you’re my brother now. Is it appropriate for you to still be using that tone with me, as if I’m your subordinate?” Leo’s brow furrowed. I stepped right past him and looked at the still-crying Rachelle. “And you, Miss Clarke, don’t have to look so wronged. After all, I should have been living in this home from the day I was born.” 3 In the Rolls-Royce, the family sat in a heavy, brooding silence. My mother would occasionally dab at Rachelle’s tears. Only I, sitting in a Rolls-Royce for the first time, ignored everyone’s glares and curiously touched everything, from the plush leather to the intricate stitching. Just as I was admiring the starlight headliner, my mother spoke. “The young master of the Hayes family will be here to pick us up soon. You can get to know him.” I caught the hesitation in her voice. “What’s the relationship between the Hayes family and us?” Leo answered impatiently, “An arranged marriage.” I instinctively looked at Rachelle. “Then it should be with ‘sister,’ right?” Rachelle bit her lower lip, her fingers clenching the fabric of her skirt. Leo sneered. “Of course. They’ve known each other for twenty-six years. You can’t compare.” My mother tried to smooth things over. “Melissa, we respect your wishes. Although the agreement was for you and Adrian to be engaged, Rachelle has grown up with him all these years.” “If you don’t like him, we won’t force you.” I picked at the car’s decal. If I couldn’t understand my own mother’s subtle hints, then all my years in the corporate world would have been for nothing. I met Adrian Hayes soon after. Tall, with long legs, easily six-foot-one. He was my type. But Rachelle beat me to it, flinging open the car door. “Adrian!” She threw herself into his arms. She didn’t say anything. She just cried. Adrian was flustered for a moment, then he looked up and saw me. His brow furrowed. Rachelle, sobbing, pulled away from him as if she’d just remembered something. She pushed Adrian towards me. “I’m sorry, sister. I… I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not trying to take Adrian from you…” Adrian gave Rachelle a surprised look. Rachelle bit her lip, tears streaming down her face. “Go on. You were the one betrothed to him at birth… I… I’m just a fake…” Watching his long-time love offer him up in pain, a flash of pity crossed Adrian’s eyes. He shot me a look. It was ice-cold. “I don’t like her.” “No, Adrian.” Rachelle shook her head. “You and she are the real arranged marriage.” I raised my hand. “Uh…” “I don’t like her, and that’s final. I only like you,” Adrian said, completely ignoring me. I cleared my throat. “Excuse me, I was trying to say…” “Forget it, Adrian. My sister is back now…” Rachelle wept. “Hello?” “So what if she’s back? A low-class girl from the gutter thinks she can take what’s yours?” “But…” “Are you two done?!” I was genuinely angry now. Rachelle quickly stepped in front of Adrian. “Sister! I won’t fight with you over him, don’t misunderstand! I know my place!” “You really want to give him to me?” I stared at her. Rachelle froze for a second, then sobbed. “Of course…” “Fine.” Rachelle’s eyes went wide. Adrian refused. “I’m not interested in you.” “Is that for you to decide?” I lifted my chin. “I heard our families signed some kind of agreement for our betrothal. You can marry my ‘sister,’ no problem. Just pay the breach of contract penalty.” The agreement was signed in jest years ago, but the penalty fee was astronomically high. Even though it was a joke, if I wanted to be serious about it, it was legally enforceable. Adrian gritted his teeth. “See? If you don’t want to pay up, then you’ll marry me.” Adrian’s fists were clenched tight. I raised an eyebrow at Rachelle. “Thank you for your generosity, sister.” “Sister!” Rachelle suddenly dropped to her knees with a thud. 4 If you had told me a day ago that the pampered princess from the desk next to mine would be kneeling and kowtowing to me, I would have thought I’d gone insane. But Rachelle really did it, bowing her head so hard her forehead turned red. “I’m begging you, please let us be together! Even though you and Adrian have an arranged marriage, you’re the true heiress of the Clarke family. You can have anything you want in the future.” “But I… I only have Adrian…” Adrian immediately pulled her into his arms, glaring at me. “Don’t go too far!” Leo also gave me a harsh shove. “You’re bullying her again!” My parents rushed over, embracing Rachelle and murmuring comforting words. My mother looked at me. “Melissa, don’t make things difficult for your sister.” “I’m not making things difficult for her.” I walked towards Rachelle, step by step. “Your sister was the one who said she would give him to me. And I confirmed it with you, didn’t I?” “Since you were so sure about giving him to me, why are you acting like I stole him from you now that I’ve actually taken him?” I squatted down in front of Rachelle. “If you don’t want to give something away, then don’t offer it. Because otherwise, I will really take it.” Rachelle shrank back into Leo’s arms, looking terrified. I stood up with a cold laugh, glancing at the furious Adrian. “Don’t be so nervous. I was just kidding about wanting you. You’re not my type.” Adrian’s breath hitched. He gritted his teeth in frustration. Strange. When I said I wanted him, he wasn’t interested. When I told him the truth, that I wasn’t interested, he was still unhappy. 5 The next morning, a Van Cleef & Arpels necklace was presented to me as soon as I woke up. Seeing my parents’ smiling faces, I knew something was up. Sure enough, my mother began. “Melissa, dear, we’ve thought about the shares. We will definitely give them to you.” “However, the transfer of shares we had previously decided on for Rachelle has already gone through. If you can just wait until the company grows a bit more, we will give you every single share that you’re entitled to.” My father chimed in. “That’s right. You are our biological daughter. Don’t worry.” So that’s what this was about. Yesterday, the shares hadn’t been transferred. I go to sleep for one night, and suddenly they’re in Rachelle’s hands. This didn’t look like a family planning to leave me my inheritance. But… I picked up the necklace, worth less than ten thousand dollars, and my eyes reddened. “Okay… you are my parents, after all…” Seeing this, a flicker of pity crossed my mother’s eyes. I continued to wipe away my fake tears. “I know I wasn’t raised by you. Even though I’m your biological daughter, I’ll never have the same treatment as my sister.” “I understand. I won’t ask for a single share. You don’t have to worry.” “How can you say that, child!” My mother pulled me into her arms. “You are our daughter. That will never change!” My father nodded. “We’re happy that you’re so understanding, but you mustn’t say such things.” I sniffled. “Do you really love me?” “Of course! What parents don’t love their children!” “Then… can you transfer me to the overseas division? I don’t want shares. Just let me manage the division.” They both froze. 6 I was nervous when I made that request. I was afraid they’d see my ambition. Initially, I did want the inheritance that was rightfully mine. But after coming home and seeing how this family operated, it was clear that the Clarke company wouldn’t last another few decades with their kind of thinking. Leo was in charge of the domestic market. I couldn’t get a foothold there, and my parents would never hand over that kind of power to me. The only potential breakthrough for me was the overseas market. I wasn’t interested in the Clarke family’s shares anymore. I wanted real, tangible power in my own hands. Maybe my acting was good enough, or maybe my parents still had some lingering affection for me, but they agreed. They even added a condition. “Good girl, work hard. If you can expand the overseas market, any extra profits will be all yours!” My eyes lit up. “Really?” “Really.” “Then you have to sign an agreement!” I had someone draw up a contract in record time. They were a little taken aback, but they signed it. They thought I was just a low-level employee. What they didn’t know was that the only reason I hadn’t climbed higher was because Leo’s cronies were jealously guarding every promotion path. All I needed was an opening. Even a tiny one. I would tear it open, whatever the cost, and fight my way out. But at the dinner table, when Rachelle found out I was leaving, her eyes immediately reddened. She stood up, ready to leave. The family quickly pulled her back. She looked at me with a wounded expression. “Sister, are you applying for an overseas transfer because you don’t want to live with me?” “If you don’t want to see me, I can move out. I can even live in your old apartment.” “No!” Leo frowned. “That dump is no place for you. If anyone’s living there, it should be her!” I clenched my chopsticks. This idiot boss was as infuriating as ever. “But if I don’t leave, my sister will… I’m just the fake heiress. You’ve all loved me by mistake for so many years. How can I take what’s rightfully hers?” My parents, full of pity, put down their chopsticks and pulled her into their arms. “Melissa, don’t make things difficult for your sister. Just forget it.” “That’s right. We’ll give you a comfortable, do-nothing position here in the country. We’ve canceled your flight.” A do-nothing position? Was that what I’d been fighting for with this group of lunatics? “Then I’m leaving.” I put down my chopsticks and actually walked out. My parents grabbed me. “Why are you being so difficult? Your sister is so upset, and you’re still throwing a tantrum!” “Do I even have the right to throw a tantrum?” They were stunned. “You won’t give me shares, you won’t even let me try my hand at the failing overseas market. What standing do I have in your hearts that would even support a tantrum?” “You’re not sincere, and I’m not going to be a freeloader.” I pulled my arm free and strode away. A maid quickly stopped me. I don’t know what my parents said to Rachelle that night. But she finally stopped her theatrics. Later that night, on my way to the bathroom, I overheard my parents talking. “Let her go if she wants to. The overseas market has been losing money for a year. What can a low-level employee like her do?” “She’ll have to come crawling back to us to bail her out.” “She’ll know she was wrong, and then she won’t be so hard on our Rachelle.” I sneered. I left without a sound. The next day, my parents and Leo, who were supposed to see me off, were nowhere to be found. They called me. “Rachelle’s puppy is sick, we have to take her to the vet. You’re more independent, so we won’t see you off. Be safe on your journey.” And they hung up. I was at the airport, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Good thing I had already arranged for a car and hadn’t actually waited for them. But with me gone, they would have no control over me anymore. Whether I was just a low-level employee or someone more qualified than Leo to run the company, they would soon find out.

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A run in my stockings right before a job interview. In a panic, I called my rival. “Are you out of your car yet? Come give me a hand.” A stubborn voice on the other end. “I’m not following you.” I didn’t even look up from my ruined legwear. “You copy my outfits, my makeup, even my perfume, every single day. Now get over here. I can smell you.” 1 The other end of the line erupted in a flurry of flustered, girly squeaks. After what felt like an eternity, she finally calmed down enough to answer. “Okay… just give me a minute.” I hung up without another word, only to turn and find my best friend, Maya, staring at me with a look of pure confusion. “Who was that? So on-call for you?” “Trevor’s little lapdog.” Maya’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, Chloe. You’ve got guts, asking your rival for a favor.” “She’s not really a rival. She’s just a simp for Trevor. I doubt he even remembers her name.” Maya let out a breath of relief. “That’s true. Half the campus is crushing on him, but you’re the only girl he ever actually looks at.” She paused. “So, is this girl pretty?” I thought for a moment. “I guess so. She just doesn’t have her own style. She copies everything I wear.” We walked into the office building and found the restroom to await the stocking delivery. Suddenly, Maya started shaking me by the shoulders. “She copies you? Everything? Oh my god, do you think she’s trying to replicate your path to success?” Her eyes grew wider. “Or maybe she’s into some weird voodoo shit! Trying to steal your luck by mimicking you! What if your recent string of failed interviews is her doing?!” I was stunned by the sheer chaos of her imagination. That little pipsqueak, practicing dark arts? Her big, innocent eyes practically screamed, “I am a simple, harmless creature.” The thought of her—with all her wide-eyed, collegiate naivety—trying to curse me was almost laughable. “I wish she’d try something,” I snorted. “Unfortunately, my job-hopping saga is entirely orchestrated by my dear old dad. He can’t stand any place I choose to work. My whole life is a puppet show he directs. If she wants to stir the pot, I say bring it on. My life could use the spice.” Maya rolled her eyes, a pained expression on her face like she was staring at a class enemy. “You’re living the dream and you don’t even know it. But what if she actually manages to steal Trevor away from you?” I considered it. “That would be great.” After all, Trevor’s entire contribution to our relationship consisted of three daily texts: Have you had breakfast? Have you had lunch? Have you had dinner? Having a boyfriend like that was pointless, not to mention the moral pressure it put on me not to look at other guys. Honestly, it would be better if he was gone. But since my father had set us up, I couldn’t be the one to break it off. If someone else was chasing him, I could just let nature take its course. Once they got together, I could play the victim and end things. I’d like to see my dad try to argue with that. Before Maya could say another word, my phone buzzed. It was my little copycat, Nina. “Chloe? I’m right outside the door. But… could you ask your friend to step out for a second? I’m a little shy.” 2 I had to laugh. She shadowed my every move, imitated my entire life, and now she was shy. Interesting. Maya left the restroom to wait for me in the lobby. I leaned against the marble sink, waiting. From outside the door, I heard a few deep, steadying breaths. Then, a small head peeked in. Her eyes were huge, blinking rapidly, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. When she finally stepped all the way inside, her hands were knotted together at her stomach, twisting nervously. She was like a kitten. This was the college girl who was supposedly my rival? This adorable thing? “Chloe… what did you need my help with?” Even her voice was soft and sweet. I pushed myself off the counter and gave her a slow once-over, from head to toe. “Your stockings. Are they intact?” “Huh?” Nina quickly looked down, checking her legs. “Yes, they’re fine.” “Good. Take one off and give it to me.” I held her gaze, not letting her look away. “Um… well…” Her ears turned a flaming red, and her eyes started to well up. “Chloe, did you get a run in yours? I can run out and buy you a new pair right now.” “You know this brand isn’t easy to find.” I took a step closer to her. “Everything you’re wearing right now, from your dress to your shoes, is the exact same as mine. Taking one of your stockings isn’t asking too much, is it?” “I… I didn’t mean to make you angry,” she whispered, her lip trembling. “Take it off,” I said, my voice hardening. If she kept dawdling, my interview would be shot, no paternal interference needed. Nina bit her lip, her face pale as she carefully peeled off one of her stockings and handed it to me. I took it, gave it a little shake, and slid it onto my own leg. This girl… she was about my height and had a similar build. She’d make a perfect mobile backup wardrobe. When I finished adjusting it and looked up, Nina was covering her mouth and nose, her eyes bloodshot and crimson. Oh. Did she think I was some kind of creep? I cleared my throat. “I’m not taking it for free. I’ll buy you a new pair.” Nina just shook her head, her hand clamped tightly over her mouth. I thought for a moment. There were many kinds of creeps; I shouldn’t let her get the wrong idea. “And if you dare tell anyone about this,” I threatened, “I’ll strip you of every last piece of clothing you copied from me!” That… probably made me sound even more like a creep. “Mmmph,” she mumbled, her head bobbing between a nod and a shake, before she turned and bolted out of the restroom without a backward glance. Damn. Did my pervy act scare the poor girl off for good? 3 I smoothed down my outfit and walked out to meet Maya, who was practically vibrating with curiosity. “What did you do to her?” I lifted my leg slightly, showing her the pristine stocking. Maya frowned. “You took hers?” “Yup.” Her jaw dropped. “I just offered you mine and you said no! But you’ll turn around and bully your rival for hers? Aren’t you afraid she’ll run to Trevor and tell him what a psycho you are?” I linked my arm with hers as we headed for the elevator. “Relax. She has the desire, but not the nerve.” It was about a year ago that I first noticed a girl constantly staring at Trevor. I was about to graduate, and he was a junior. He’d thrown a party with a few close friends to celebrate my “homecoming to inherit the family business,” and Nina was the only stranger he’d brought along. “This is Nina,” he’d announced. “She’s a freshman from one of my clubs. Totally invisible, so she’s perfect for serving us drinks.” I was instantly annoyed. Trevor could be thoughtless, but he never used his family’s status to look down on people. What he was doing now—whether it was bullying her or some bizarre attempt to introduce her to our social circle—was deeply unpleasant. But Nina didn’t seem to mind at all. With her bright, kitten-like eyes, she actually started going around asking everyone what they wanted to drink. When she got to me, however, she became exceptionally nervous, fumbling for much longer than with anyone else. Once the drinks were served, she retreated to a dark corner, a small, shadowy figure melting into the background. She didn’t look at Trevor, nor did she try to talk to anyone. Just like he said, she was completely invisible. I found it intriguing, so I brought a glass of soda over to her. “Want something to drink?” “No, thank you. I need to look after everyone.” I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s just soda.” “Oh.” She took the glass, sniffed it cautiously, and then took a tiny sip. “Thank you… Chloe.” “You came here with Trevor,” I said, getting straight to the point. “You know he has a girlfriend, and that girlfriend is me. Right?” “I know.” “And you still came, trying to steal him away. You’re pretty bold.” “I… Chloe, please don’t misunderstand. I didn’t come for Trevor, I… I…” She started choking on her words, but she remembered to grab my hand. “I came because…” Before she could finish, Trevor appeared at our side. “Chloe, what are you doing? Why did you push her? She’s choking.” Excuse me? I shot a look at Nina. She immediately jumped to her feet, her stutter gone. “It has nothing to do with Chloe! I choked all by myself!” Trevor’s face darkened. “Trevor, don’t be mad at her,” Nina pleaded. “It was all my fault.” Wow. The textbook victim play. The atmosphere froze. One of our friends stepped in. “Nina, that was some seriously manipulative BS. Can you just stop? And Trevor, Chloe is your actual girlfriend. Get a grip on who you’re supposed to be defending.” He turned to me. “Come on, Chloe. Let’s not waste our time with them. Let’s get a drink.” After that, Nina was left alone in her corner. This time, she was so enveloped by the darkness I could barely see her. She didn’t say another word to Trevor for the rest of the night. But every now and then, I’d feel her anxious, mournful gaze drift over to me. Oh, for heaven’s sake. With her red-rimmed eyes and trembling demeanor, she was just too damn cute. I bet she’d be back pestering Trevor tomorrow. Good. I couldn’t wait to see her again. 4 To my surprise, the next day she wasn’t trailing Trevor. She was trailing me. The moment I stepped out of my apartment, I saw Nina hiding not-so-subtly, pretending to be on her phone while she watched me. I went to grab breakfast. Before my seat was even warm, she had bought the exact same pastry and tucked it into her bag. I went shopping. In the blink of an eye, she had managed to find and change into the same outfit I was wearing. Damn it. I’d revealed my favorite boutiques to her. Still, there was something strangely thrilling about seeing her in my clothes. Was my style really that captivating? And what did it say about Trevor? Was it my face or my fashion that had won him over? I called Trevor to meet me and pointed to Nina, who was attempting to hide behind a large tree. “Who’s prettier, me or her?” “You are,” Trevor said, without a flicker of interest. “Look closer,” I urged. “Nina is wearing the exact same outfit as me today.” “Even in the exact same outfit, you’re prettier,” he stated flatly. “So it’s my face you’re attracted to?” I smirked. Trevor rubbed the back of his neck. “Chloe, what’s this about? You know it’s your dad’s face that really attracts me.” We both burst out laughing. So Nina’s mimicry was useless. What Trevor was really after was my father’s fortune. Hearing our laughter, Nina, leaning against her tree, stumbled as if she’d been struck. Look at her, all flustered. She wanted to steal my man but only had the guts to eavesdrop from a distance. It was both pathetic and adorable. From then on, Nina followed me everywhere, copying my clothes, my shoes, my perfume, right down to my hair ties. And whenever Trevor and I had a date, she would magically appear, contriving some reason to be there, trying to make her presence known. A waitress in a coffee shop. A ball girl at the tennis court. Selling popcorn at the movie theater. You name it, she’d done it. It got to the point where, on my dates with Trevor, I found myself looking forward to Nina’s next surprise appearance. The unexpected, the playful, the shy… each new persona sent a thrill of mischievous delight through me. Ugh. Who was she really doing all this for? 5 The interview ended. As expected, thanks to a preemptive call from my father, I did not get the job. But I wasn’t mad. You work to earn money, and the allowance my dad gave me was more than enough. My little excursions into the corporate world were just a game to add some “father-daughter bonding” excitement to our otherwise dull lives. Maya, who had kept me company all morning, got called away by her boyfriend. I remembered I had a boyfriend too, so I gave Trevor a call. “Are you busy?” “Nope.” “Want to go on a date?” “Actually, I am a little busy.” So childish. I hung up and opened a photo Trevor’s roommate had just sent me. There was Trevor, in a secluded grove on campus, his arms around a girl, “tutoring” her on vocabulary with his lips. And standing behind a large rock, radiating a storm cloud of resentment, was Nina. Sigh. Looks like she was finally realizing that copying my wardrobe wasn’t going to work. I called her. Her voice was thick and muffled when she answered. “Chloe.” The raw hurt in that single word made my heart ache. “Meet me at the campus gate. I’m bringing your stocking back.” I drove straight to the university and picked up a red-eyed, puffy-faced Nina. “Crying this hard,” I asked with a gentle smile. “You must really be in love with him, huh?” “I’m not,” she mumbled, turning her head to stare out the window. “You’re not crying, or you’re not in love?” “Not in love!” She whipped her head back to face me. Interesting. “You’ve been chasing him for a year, and you’re not in love? You’re crying your eyes out because you saw him kissing another girl, and you’re not in love?” “That’s because…” Nina started, clearly agitated, but then she paused, composing herself. “I feel bad for you. He has an amazing girlfriend like you, and he still cheats!” The car fell silent. I swallowed hard, replaying the dynamics between the three of us in my head. Was she upset because Trevor was kissing someone else, or because Trevor was betraying me? But then, didn’t she ever think that her constant pursuit of him might hurt me? “Nina, you…” I pulled the car over into a parking spot and turned to face her fully. Nina kept her head down, her eyes still red, twisting the hem of her skirt. She’d changed back at her dorm and was now wearing an outfit identical to one I often wore during my senior year. “Nina,” I asked softly, “are you in love with me?” Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. As she moved, her soft lips brushed against my cheek. “I’m so sorry, so sorry!” Her face turned a deep crimson. “I didn’t mean to. I mean, yes, I like you, but I’m not a freak, I just…” What was I supposed to do? This flustered, panicked version of her was like a startled fawn. Oh, damn. My heart was about to go into overdrive.

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The day the star salesman came to get his team-building expenses reimbursed, I rejected the claim without even looking up. “Can’t do it. The budget’s been used up.” He stared at me, his face a mask of disbelief. “It’s the first of the month! How can there be no money? We have a hundred-dollar budget per person!” But I held my ground. He finally lost his temper and stormed off to complain to the big boss. “Sir! You can’t let her get away with this! She’s intentionally trying to screw over my team!” “If she won’t approve the budget, how am I supposed to keep morale up?” “This isn’t just penny-pinching; she’s trying to tank the whole company!” Seeing that things had finally blown up, I rose with a calm smile and pulled the last six months of receipts from my desk drawer… 1 When Rick Harrison’s expense report landed on my desk, I didn’t even raise an eyebrow. My fingers danced across the keyboard, typing the last digit of a spreadsheet. Only after saving the file did I pick up the thin sheet of paper. His flamboyant signature sprawled across the bottom, and the amount in the box was a glaringly large number. “Can’t be approved.” I pushed the form back towards him, my voice flat and steady. “This month’s budget has already been exhausted.” The smug grin on Rick’s face froze, as if he hadn’t quite heard me. “What? Sarah, say that again.” I finally looked up, meeting his gaze directly. “I said, the administrative budget for this month… is gone.” “Impossible!” He slammed his palm down on my desk, drawing the eyes of the entire office. “It’s the first of the month!” “The company standard for team events is a hundred dollars a head per month. The sales department has over a hundred people. That’s a ten-thousand-dollar credit line, and you’re telling me it’s gone?” A younger salesman standing behind him immediately chimed in. “Yeah, Sarah. Our team just won a huge contract. What’s wrong with a celebratory dinner?” “You’re new here, maybe you don’t get how things work, but you can’t just shut us down like this.” “Seriously, she has no people skills.” “So petty.” “It’s not like we do this every month!” The murmurs from his team buzzed around me like a swarm of flies. I ignored them, my focus remaining locked on Rick. Seeing that I wouldn’t budge, his confusion morphed into fury. His face flushed a deep red as he pointed a finger at my nose. “Sarah, are you deliberately trying to make my life difficult?” “Don’t think for a second that sitting in that chair gives you power over the sales department! We’re the ones making money for this company, not taking crap from some bean-counter!” I leaned back in my chair, letting his spittle fly, my tone still infuriatingly calm. “Mr. Harrison, rules are rules.” “Your team’s overages from last month were automatically deducted from this month’s budget, as per financial policy.” “Therefore, as of midnight on the first, this month’s budget was already zeroed out.” My words echoed clearly into every corner of the office. An immediate, deathly silence fell, broken only by the hum of the central air conditioning. The expressions of my colleagues, who had been enjoying the show, shifted. There was pity, a little scorn, but mostly, the detached indifference of people who were glad it wasn’t them. They probably thought I was insane. A new accountant, daring to go head-to-head with the company’s golden boy, the untouchable top salesman. What could possibly cost that much? they were likely thinking. She probably just doesn’t want to release that much cash at the beginning of the month. Rick was speechless, choked by my logic. His chest heaved. He had likely never encountered a situation where his usual tactics hit a wall of solid steel. Finally, he squeezed out a sentence through gritted teeth. “Fine, Sarah. You just wait.” 2 He snatched the expense report, crumpled it into a tight ball, and slammed it into the trash can by my desk before storming out and letting the door crash shut behind him. The sound was so loud it made the pen holder on my desk tremble. The tense air in the office finally loosened with his departure. Someone shot me a quick “good luck with that” look before rapidly ducking their head and pretending to be busy. Expressionless, I retrieved the wadded-up paper from the trash can, smoothed it out, and filed it away in a dedicated folder. They all thought this was the first time I had angered Rick, that I was just a naive greenhorn who didn’t know how to play the game. Only I knew this wasn’t the first time at all. Rick’s expense reports were a creative work of fiction, filed with a frequency that was simply breathtaking. Dinners and karaoke nights were standard, but he’d even had the audacity to submit receipts from high-end spas and massage parlors. Each time, he’d just toss the slips on my desk with a charming smile. “Sarah, it’s all for team morale. Just cover it for now, and I’ll get the paperwork pushed through right away.” His “pushing it through” meant never mentioning it again. When I first started, I hadn’t yet figured out the lay of the land and had fronted over two thousand dollars of my own money. That sum still sits on my personal ledger like an unclaimed bad debt. I had asked him about it twice. The first time, he laughed it off, saying he forgot and would handle it in a couple of days. The second time, he was holding court in the middle of the office, surrounded by his underlings, boasting about a million-dollar contract he’d just signed. I simply walked over and quietly reminded him about the reimbursement. In front of everyone, he slammed his coffee mug down on the table. The sound wasn’t deafening, but it was enough to silence the entire sales department. He looked at me as if I were an annoying child, his voice slow and dripping with undisguised contempt. “A couple grand? Is that why you keep hounding me? I close million-dollar deals. You think I’m going to stiff you for that?” A wave of suppressed snickers rippled through the department. Their stares felt like needles piercing my skin. From that day on, I never mentioned the money again. They all thought I’d backed down, that I was a coward who could be silenced by a single sharp word from the star salesman. Rick, in turn, became even more brazen, taking my compliance and personal expense for granted. I never said a word in my defense. I just kept collecting the evidence, piece by piece. I was waiting for him to roll his snowball of lies until it was so big he could no longer hide it himself. I was waiting for the day when all his bad debts would explode at once, nailing him—and his so-called “achievements”—to the company’s ledger for good, with no chance of recovery. I looked at the folder, at the carefully smoothed-out receipts that documented his greed, and a cold smile touched my lips. Patience, Rick. That day is coming very, very soon. 3 The next day, my desk became the epicenter of a storm. At 5:59 PM, Mike, Rick’s most trusted lieutenant, dropped a two-foot-high stack of documents on my desk with a loud thud. “Sarah, urgent. These fifty contracts have to be mailed out tonight. The clients are waiting.” I glanced at the wall clock. The minute hand ticked over to twelve. The office filled with the sounds of people packing up to leave for the day. Mike’s voice cut through the noise, dripping with unconcealed provocation. I said nothing. I just pulled the mountain of contracts towards me and began the tedious process of verifying addresses, checking signatures, and sealing each one in a courier envelope. The office emptied out. The lights went out one by one, leaving only the stark white glare of the lamp above my head. Outside, the city sank into darkness. My desk was the last remaining pinprick of light in the entire office building. By the time I dragged my exhausted body out of the building, it was nearly midnight. And that was only the beginning. When I went to the breakroom to get water, someone would always “accidentally” bump into me. Scalding hot water would splash onto the back of my hand or drench a stack of freshly printed documents. The apologies were always flimsy and insincere, accompanied by a few stifled giggles from the sidelines. I would just blot the soaked pages with paper towels, lay them out to dry on the radiator, and watch the ink bleed into illegible smudges. The breakroom became their stage. Rick and his cronies would make a point of gathering there whenever I was heating up my lunch. “Man, look at what some women wear to work. Looks like she got dressed in a barn…” “All she does is pinch pennies. No wonder she’ll be stuck as a junior clerk for life.” “I know, right? No awareness at all. Treats the company’s money like it’s her own household budget, counting every last cent.” “Someone like that will never get anywhere.” Their voices were pitched at the perfect volume for me, and everyone else within earshot, to hear everything. I’d just take my container from the microwave, turn, and walk away, their laughter growing louder and more unrestrained behind me. The rumors started to spread, silent and venomous. There were a few different versions, but they all boiled down to one thing: Me, Sarah, was holding a grudge because Rick had publicly put me in my place. I was abusing my position to block the entire sales department’s reimbursements in a petty act of revenge, threatening to derail the company’s bottom line. Colleagues who had been neutral, even friendly, began to look at me differently. They started deliberately avoiding me, ducking into another hallway if they saw me coming. They’d rather wait for the next elevator than share the small space with me. I was completely, utterly isolated. I had become the office pariah. A small-minded, vindictive woman with no “big-picture” thinking, who was letting a personal feud threaten the company’s very survival. Through it all, I continued to arrive on time, process the mountains of work on my desk, and ignore the deliberate obstructions and glares. My silence, in their eyes, was an admission of guilt, a stubborn refusal to see reason. Seeing that I still wouldn’t “admit my mistake,” Rick finally lost his patience. That afternoon, I watched him and several of his key salespeople walk into the office of our boss, Mr. Peterson. I knew he was about to play his trump card. 4 Half an hour later, the internal line rang. A cold, female voice came through the receiver. “Sarah, Mr. Peterson wants to see you in his office.” I put down my pen, smoothed my clothes, and walked over. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, I stepped into a room thick with tension. Mr. Peterson sat behind his large desk, his brow furrowed. Rick stood beside him, a subtle, triumphant glint in his eyes. He even shot me a look of feigned sorrow and helplessness. The man could act. “Sarah,” Mr. Peterson’s voice was heavy, laced with clear annoyance. “What on earth has been going on with you lately?” I remained silent, waiting. “Rick has told me everything. You’re just approving an expense report. Do you really need to be this difficult?” “The sales team is in an uproar. Morale is at an all-time low.” “Several of my top performers have come to me saying they’re losing motivation, that they’re thinking of leaving!” Mr. Peterson’s fingers tapped a sharp rhythm on his desk. “Do you have any idea what it costs to train a core salesperson?” “They are the heart of this company! They’re the heroes who put food on all of our tables!” He paused, his tone growing sharper. “Rick and his team are out there fighting tooth and nail for deals, and they have to come back to the office and beg you for a little team-building money?” “What are you doing? You need to have more of a service mindset! Don’t be so rigid!” “The rules are just guidelines, Sarah. People are what matter! Do I really need to teach you that?” Every word was a judgment. I looked over at Rick. He could no longer hide his glee. The corner of his mouth curved into the smirk of a victor. His eyes were full of contempt and mockery, as if to say, See? You can’t win against me. So, this was it. The rot in this company went this deep. The “heroes” could ignore the rules. The “heart” could do whatever it wanted. He probably had no idea how much company money was being siphoned off, written off as the small cost of “maintaining morale.” My own heart turned to ice, but my expression remained unchanged. I lowered my gaze to my own clean fingernails and spoke calmly. “Okay, Mr. Peterson. I’ll be more careful.” No excuses. No arguments. Mr. Peterson seemed satisfied with my “cooperation.” His expression softened, and he waved a dismissive hand. “Alright, you can go. I know you’re very capable. Just work on communicating better with Mr. Harrison. I expect you two to cooperate from now on.” I nodded, turned, and pulled open the door. Outside, the entire sales department was “coincidentally” loitering nearby. The moment I stepped out, all eyes snapped to me, like a volley of poisoned arrows. Rick and his team followed me out, their faces beaming with undisguised, triumphant smiles. I knew that look. It was the look of the strong crushing the weak, the thrill of stepping on an ant that dared to challenge them. The very air in the office had changed, thick with suffocating ridicule. I could feel their stares on my back, peeling my skin, breaking my bones. I walked back to my cubicle, step by step, and sat down. It was terrifyingly quiet. Even the sound of keyboards had stopped. Everyone was watching a silent play, and I was the lone clown. I clenched my fists under the desk, my nails digging so deep into my palms that they stung.

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1 My first major case back in Weston Bay was my husband’s—for soliciting a prostitute. The file lay open, the black-and-white print a blur. “Captain Vance,” my subordinate Miller said, “this is Derek Croft, Weston Bay’s richest man, and his girlfriend. The city’s favorite couple—silver fox and ingénue. That age gap’s their whole appeal.” He smirked. “She called the cops on him yesterday as a joke. Lovers’ game.” I walked to the mediation room. Through the ajar door, I saw Derek on his knees, wiping a milk tea stain off his girlfriend’s shoe with his seven-figure suit. “Are you stupid?” she pouted. “I called the cops on you.” Derek gazed up, eyes adoring. “My little star, I’d give you my life.” The hallway lights flickered. My heart sank into darkness. If they wanted to play games with the law, I’d ensure he faced the consequences. … Clutching the summons, I turned to Miller behind me. “Take them to an interrogation room. By the book.” Miller froze, a troubled look crossing his face. “Captain… is that really necessary? You just got back, you might not know, but Mr. Croft is…” “I don’t care who he is,” I cut him off, my voice turning to ice. “Filing a false report wastes police resources and disrupts public order. He will be investigated. The law doesn’t have a VIP entrance.” Chastened, Miller mumbled a quick, “Yes, ma’am,” and pushed the door open to the mediation room. The commotion started instantly. Sienna’s voice was laced with indignation. “Why are you arresting us? I already told you it was just a joke!” Derek’s voice followed, not with anger, but with a tone of indulgent calm. “Just cooperate, Sienna. It’ll be over soon.” Their footsteps grew closer, and the two of them emerged. Sienna was still sulking, stomping ahead of him in a huff. “This is all your fault! I asked you to go shopping with me yesterday, but you had to have some stupid meeting. That’s why I got mad and called the cops!” Derek practically jogged to keep up, a fawning look on his face. “I’ll have my assistant buy out the entire new season from every designer. You can try everything on at home.” At this, Sienna turned her head, and I got a clear look at her. A delicate, palm-sized face, bright eyes, pearly teeth—she was, admittedly, a stunning girl. What caught the eye, though, was her mane of pink hair and a miniskirt so short it threatened to reveal the top of her thighs with every step. She was barely in her twenties, radiating a brazen, untamed vitality. She was from a different universe than someone like me, who lived in a uniform. A heavy weight settled in my chest, a dull, suffocating ache. Derek Croft. The man at the apex of Weston Bay’s social pyramid, the man to whom countless people bowed and scraped. And here he was, practically groveling to appease this girl. “Don’t be mad,” he cooed. “I’ll cancel my next meeting. We’ll go shopping, okay?” Sienna just huffed, but she slowed her pace. I watched them disappear into the interrogation room. The door clicked shut, sealing away their cloying intimacy. Miller approached me. “Captain, who should take the statement?” “You do it. Personally,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Get the reason for the call. I want every single detail.” Miller nodded and went inside. It wasn’t long before Sienna’s voice, thick with a need to show off, drifted through the door. “Officer, I told you, it was a joke. He’s always working, always busy with his company. Getting him to go to the mall with me is like moving a mountain.” “What good is a black card? So what if it has no limit? Can it help me try on dresses?” Miller must have asked about the solicitation, because the room went quiet for a few seconds. Then, Sienna’s voice returned, laced with a giggle. “Oh, that? I was just mad. A few days ago, he said he wanted to spice things up, so he tied my hands with his tie… I was just angry that he was only thinking of his own pleasure, so I said that to get back at him.” She paused, as if showing something off. “Look, you can still see the marks on my wrist. He looks so serious all the time, but really…” Her words grew more and more explicit. I couldn’t listen anymore. I turned and leaned against the wall, my mind a chaotic storm. Derek and I had been married for three years. His family was old money in Weston Bay; mine was deeply entrenched in the political circles of D.C. When we married, it was hailed as a merger of dynasties, a perfect match. And we played our parts convincingly, the model couple at every gala and charity event. He gave me tasteful, appropriate gifts; I handled his overbearing relatives. But only I knew the truth of our marriage: it was a cold, desolate wasteland. He was always reserved, detached, his face an unreadable mask. Even in bed, he moved with the detached efficiency of a man completing a task. Last year, I had fought tooth and nail for this transfer back to Weston Bay, leaving a core position at headquarters in D.C. for a captaincy in a local precinct. Anyone with eyes could see it was a demotion disguised as a promotion. But I’d been foolishly optimistic. I thought closing the distance might thaw the ice between us. What a joke. The first “gift” I received after sacrificing my career was a front-row seat to my husband’s performance of a lifetime—a raw, vibrant passion he had never once shown me. In the end, no charges were filed. The chief of police came down himself, wringing his hands. “Aurora, my dear… Mr. Croft is… well, he’s vital to the city’s economy. Can we just let this one go?” I said nothing, which was its own form of consent. The Croft family’s influence in Weston Bay was too deep. One false police report wasn’t nearly enough to keep him locked up. As I watched Derek carefully shield Sienna while helping her into his car, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to his mother. [I just saw Derek at the precinct. He was being questioned for soliciting a prostitute.] She replied instantly. [Aurora, you’re back? I’m sending the driver for you right now. Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you get the justice you deserve.] Half an hour later, I walked into the Croft family mansion to the sound of Derek’s father screaming at him. They knew about Sienna, of course, but had chosen to turn a blind eye. But for the situation to escalate to the police, and for me to be involved—that changed everything. The Croft family owed my family for their help in securing their foothold in Weston Bay years ago. Not to mention, Derek’s mother had practically lived in D.C. for a year to make our marriage happen. The moment she saw me, her face broke into a wide smile. She rushed over, taking my hand. “Aurora, you poor thing. You’ve been wronged. I will teach this bastard a lesson he’ll never forget.” Derek’s head snapped up. He instantly understood that I was the one who had tattled, and his eyes shot daggers at me. Before he could speak, his father’s voice boomed. “Apologize to Aurora this instant! And you will swear to me that you will break things off with that Sienna girl for good!” Derek’s chin shot up, his gaze defiant. “No.” “Sienna is the love of my life,” he declared. “No one is going to tear us apart!” His father trembled with rage. “What did you just say?” “If it weren’t for Aurora’s family in D.C., would the Crofts be where they are today? If you dare disrespect her, you are no son of mine!” Derek gritted his teeth, refusing to back down, but he didn’t argue further. He didn’t apologize, either. He just stormed towards the door. His father turned to me. “Aurora, go with him. Talk some sense into him.” I nodded and followed him out. Suddenly, Derek spun around, his hand clamping around my arm like a vice. He dragged me to the car, shoving me inside. The door slammed shut with a deafening bang. Before I could even buckle my seatbelt, he floored the gas pedal, and the car shot forward like a bullet. His eyes were webbed with red veins. “Aurora Vance,” he snarled, his jaw clenched. “You’ve got some nerve. Did you transfer back to Weston Bay just to spy on me? Wasn’t this sham of a marriage enough of a leash for you?” I rubbed my reddening arm, biting my lip to keep from speaking. Seeing my silence, Derek shot a contemptuous look at me from the corner of his eye. “And don’t you dare blame me for falling for someone else. Look at you. You walk around dressed like a goddamn nun, with a face so long it could trip someone. And in bed? Please. You’re like a dead fish, just one position, lying flat on your back.” “Sienna is younger, she’s more fun, she knows things you don’t. With her, I finally know what love feels like. What it feels like to be truly alive!” He was punishing me for telling on him, his words sharper and crueler than ever before. Each one was a shard of ice, stabbing into my heart, letting the blood flow freely. Three years of marriage, three years I’d spent like an idiot, hoping to warm his frozen heart, only to be rewarded with this humiliation. The shrill ring of a phone cut through my thoughts. I glanced at the car’s display. The caller ID—”My Little Star”—burned my eyes. He answered, and a tearful voice came through the speaker. “Derek, I cut my finger! It hurts so much!” Derek’s entire demeanor shifted. The rage vanished, replaced by sheer panic. He softened his voice, cooing into the phone. “Don’t cry, don’t cry, baby. I’m on my way. Just wait for me, okay?” He hung up, yanked the steering wheel, and screeched to a halt on the side of the road. “Out,” he commanded coldly. “We’re at least six miles from the city. You’re just going to leave me…” Before I could finish, he leaned across, unbuckled my seatbelt, and pushed open my door. “I said, get out.” I was shoved out of the car, stumbling a few steps before I found my footing. A second later, the door slammed shut. The black Maybach peeled away, disappearing into the night. The wind was a blade against my skin. I stood on the side of a desolate suburban highway with only 5% battery left on my phone. I frantically dialed the precinct, but the screen went black before the call could connect. I walked for what felt like an eternity, my legs heavy as lead, dark spots dancing in my vision. Finally, I couldn’t go on. I collapsed on the side of the road. When I woke up, the sterile scent of disinfectant filled my nostrils. I was in a hospital bed, an IV drip taped to the back of my hand. A doctor walked in, his expression complicated. “You’re awake.” “You’ve miscarried,” he said gently. “The pregnancy was already unstable, and walking for so long…” Miscarried? I froze. My fingers moved unconsciously to my flat stomach. There had been a child in there… a child who had left before I even knew he existed. The doctor sighed. “Get some rest.” The door closed, and I fumbled for my phone, plugging it into the charger. The moment it turned on, a news alert popped onto the screen: [WESTON BAY BILLIONAIRE DEREK CROFT MOBILIZES CITY’S TOP SURGEONS FOR GIRLFRIEND’S MINOR FINGER CUT!] The accompanying photo showed Derek cradling Sienna, his face a mask of profound concern. Sienna held up her hand, and the photo was zoomed in on a scratch so faint it was barely visible. My already shattered heart was pierced through once more. While he was comforting his precious love, I was lying on the side of a road, losing our child. I ripped the IV from my hand and stumbled out of the room like a ghost. At the end of the hallway, I ran right into them—Derek and Sienna. Derek’s brow furrowed instantly, his disgust unconcealed. “Aurora Vance, you’re like a goddamn ghost. You just won’t go away. You followed us to the hospital to fake an illness? I thought you were supposed to be some high-society lady. Since when did you stoop to these pathetic, desperate tactics?” Staring at him, my voice trembled. “I had a miscarriage.” Sienna’s eyes widened, and she grabbed Derek’s arm. “Derek! You told me you hadn’t touched her in forever! Where did this baby come from?” “You lied to me! We’re breaking up!” Panic flashed across Derek’s face. He pulled her into his arms, kissing and cooing. “Don’t listen to her, baby, she’s lying! I see her once a month, at most, for a stupid dinner. I don’t even touch her hand!” “My little star, you know I’m completely spent by the time I leave you. Where would I get the energy for anyone else?” After placating Sienna, he turned to glare at me, his tone dripping with venom. “Aurora, who do you think you are? The Virgin Mary? You get pregnant just by looking at someone? Have you no shame?” A small crowd had begun to gather, their whispers reaching my ears. “Who is that woman? She looks so put-together, why is she harassing Mr. Croft and Miss Sienna?” “Did you hear? Something about a miscarriage? Sounds like she was trying to trap him with a baby and is making a scene.” “Everyone knows Mr. Croft worships the ground Sienna walks on. This woman is delusional.” Their stares were like needles, piercing my skin, leaving me with nowhere to hide. A chill washed over me, but my mind felt like it had been struck by lightning. Last month, Derek had come to D.C. to see me. We had a few drinks with dinner. That night, instead of sleeping in the guest room as he always did, he had held me tight, murmuring “baby,” and “my little star” over and over, his voice hot against my ear. I thought the alcohol had lowered his defenses. I thought it was the beginning of our relationship finally thawing. It was after that night that I had made up my mind to transfer to Weston Bay, thinking we might actually have a chance at a real family. But now, seeing “My Little Star” on his phone, hearing the pet names he had whispered to Sienna countless times… it all clicked into place with horrifying clarity. He hadn’t been calling for me that night. He thought I was Sienna. That one moment of warmth that had made my cheeks flush and my heart fill with hope was nothing more than a case of mistaken identity. A farce. A wave of nausea churned in my stomach, and I had to grab the wall to keep from collapsing. Derek was still explaining things to Sienna, his voice so gentle it could wring water, a stark contrast to the venom he had just spat at me. Sienna finally stopped crying and walked over to me, a smug, insincere smile on her face. “Sweetheart, you really shouldn’t get so worked up.” “You can’t force feelings. Derek’s heart isn’t with you. You’re just torturing yourself by holding on.” I stared at her, my eyes cold as ice. She ignored my glare and continued, “To be blunt, in love, the one who isn’t loved is the real other woman. It would be better for everyone if you just walked away.” As she finished, she suddenly lifted the hem of her t-shirt, revealing a pink tattoo on her hip: “Derek’s Little Star.” Then she grabbed Derek, pulling up his shirt to show me the same spot on his body. There, on Derek’s hip, was a line of text: “Sienna’s Dog.” The words were so absurd, so glaringly painful. The Derek Croft who dominated the business world, whose gaze was cold enough to freeze hell over, had willingly branded himself for the woman he loved. My heart felt like it was being beaten with a blunt instrument, over and over, until it was just a numb, throbbing pulp. He was capable of this kind of wild, all-consuming love. Just not for me. Sienna smirked, dropping their shirts. Her fingers traced the tattoo on his hip, her voice a purr. “Derek says I’m the only one who can make him feel this way. Can you, sweetheart?” The churning in my stomach was unbearable. I turned to leave. But Sienna reached out, grabbing my arm. The moment her fingers touched my sleeve, she let out a piercing scream and threw herself backward, crashing into a medical cart. CRASH! Glass shattered everywhere. Sienna collapsed onto the floor, clutching her arm as blood streamed through her fingers. “Derek!” she cried, sobbing hysterically. Derek’s eyes turned to ice. He lunged at me, grabbing my collar. “Aurora, are you trying to die?” “Apologize to Sienna. Now!” I tore his hand away. “I didn’t push her,” I retorted. “Why should I apologize?” His face was a mask of fury. He roared at his bodyguards. “Slap her! Don’t stop until she apologizes!” Two men immediately stepped forward. One pinned my arms while the other swung. CRACK! The sharp sound echoed down the hall. My cheek exploded in fire. “Are you going to apologize?” Derek stared at me. I gritted my teeth, blood trickling from the corner of my mouth. “No.” SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! The blows rained down on my face, each one harder than the last. My head was knocked to the side, then wrenched back, forcing me to watch the hand rise and fall, again and again. The crowd fell silent, too scared to even breathe. Lying in Derek’s arms, Sienna peeked up at me, a triumphant smirk hidden on her lips. After more than a dozen slaps, my face was swollen beyond recognition, and my vision began to blur. Derek raised a hand to stop them. His voice was glacial. “Last chance. Are you going to apologize?” I shook my throbbing head, blood dripping from my chin. “It wasn’t… me.” His eyes filled with a terrifying rage. He bent down, picked up a shard of glass, and grabbed my arm. In the exact same spot where Sienna was “injured,” he dragged the sharp edge across my skin. “Then let this pain be a reminder!” he seethed. “See if you ever dare to touch her again!” Blood welled up instantly, streaming down my arm. Without another glance at me, Derek scooped Sienna into his arms and walked away. The hallway was empty. I leaned against the wall, the sting on my face and the gash on my arm a roaring fire of pain. But it was nothing compared to the dead, cold silence in my heart. He would never believe me. My denials were worth less than a single frown from Sienna. Fine. Since he’s made his choice, he can’t blame me for being ruthless. My fingers tightened around the crumpled ultrasound report in my pocket. After a moment of silence, I pulled out my phone and dialed two numbers I knew by heart.

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Three years with leukemia. Three years of Lucas selling his plasma to save me. Today, locked in the bathroom, I pressed a blade to my wrist—just as voices outside my hospital room spilled the truth. “Lucas forced Stella to be a guinea pig, faking leukemia for three years—worse than real chemo.” “He even wore a bald cap daily to keep up the act.” Lucas chuckled. “She’s a janitor. Honored to help Evie’s research. I’ll marry her later—compensation.” To ease his “burden,” I’d scrubbed hospital toilets. The razor clattered as blood pooled. The door flew open—Lucas’s eyes burning crimson. As I faded, my abandoned fiancé’s voice echoed: “I’ll wait. However long it takes.” 1 When consciousness returned, it felt like my eyelids were glued shut. But I could still hear them. The same voices, filling my room. “Lucas, you looked pretty panicked back there. Don’t tell me you’re actually falling for her?” “Get real. He’s the CEO of Lockhart Pharmaceutical Group. You think he’d fall for a janitor?” The room fell silent for a beat, punctuated only by the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. I heard Lucas’s fingers tapping on the bedside table, a restless, drumming beat. Then, a short, sharp laugh. “Of course not.” His voice was cold steel. “If she dies now, Evie’s three years of research go down the drain. That’s all.” Each tap of his finger was a hammer blow to my soul. And to think, just for a second, I’d held a pathetic flicker of hope that he genuinely feared losing me. A phone rang. Not the cheap burner he always used around me, but a crisp, modern tone. “The monthly transfer came in? Good. Same as always—cash it out and toss it to some beggar on the street.” The voice on the other end was the hospital director’s. I knew it instantly. This hospital had thirty floors. Hundreds of toilets. Every single night, after my so-called “chemotherapy,” I would drag my broken body through the halls and clean them all. For two thousand dollars a month. It wasn’t much, but I had every penny deposited directly into the hospital’s account, desperate to lift some of the weight off Lucas’s shoulders. Over seventy thousand dollars in three years. All of it, thrown away to beggars. A chair scraped against the floor, the sound grinding against my exposed nerves, my shredded dignity. “Jesus, man. How can you even stand to look at her face every day? She’s a mess.” “Before the experiment started, she was actually pretty hot. I’d have killed for that body, that face.” A soft thud, like someone kicking the bed frame. “Disgusting,” Lucas spat. “Try wearing a bald cap for three years and pretending to sell your plasma to pay her medical bills. That’s disgusting,” he countered, his voice dripping with resentment. “But for Evie… it’s all worth it.” The last words were a whisper, thick with a tenderness that was never meant for me. Disgusting. The man I thought would die for me, the man I’d been with for two years before this nightmare began, was the very architect of my suffering. What a complete and utter fool I’d been. I ran away from my life, from the corporate marriage my father had arranged, only to have him freeze all my accounts. I was starving on the streets of this city when Lucas, a handsome delivery guy, offered me a bowl of simple rice porridge. For that one act of kindness, I’d torched the bridge back to my family. For five years, he was my everything. But it was time to wake up. With a monumental effort, I forced my eyelids open. “Stella! You’re awake!” Lucas’s voice was choked with emotion. He threw his arms around me, his eyes red-rimmed, clutching me like a priceless treasure. It was a performance so perfect, you could drown in it. “Don’t you ever do something so stupid again! I told you, I will never give up on you. You’re going to get better.” Then, he pulled back slightly, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Stella… did you… did you hear anything?” I stared at his bald head. It was the same head I’d looked at for three years, but now it seemed utterly alien. I stretched my lips into a weak smile, mimicking the adoration I always showed him. “Should I have heard something?” He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. The puff of air ghosted over my ear as he reached up and self-consciously touched his head. His tell. The nervous gesture he always made when he was lying. And for the first time, I saw it. The wig cap. The seam near his ear. It was so fake, so obvious. How had I never noticed in three years? How many times had I held him, my heart aching for him, begging him not to destroy himself for my sake? My gaze drifted to the other men in the room. They were dressed in expensive, tailored suits. Lucas, in contrast, wore a faded, washed-out shirt. The perfect disguise. Who would ever guess he was their boss? “Who are they?” I asked, my voice raspy. “Oh, them? They’re the buyers. For my plasma,” he said smoothly. “I just made a sale. Your next round of chemo is paid for.” One of the men in suits cleared his throat. “That’s right. Fifty thousand dollars, already transferred. Well, we’ll be on our way.” As they left, I spoke into the sudden quiet of the room. “I want to go home.” I knew the entire hospital was practically his property. To escape him, I first had to escape this building. He stared at me, stunned. I repeated myself, my voice firmer. “I want to be discharged, Lucas.” “I’ve been here for three years. I feel like my whole body is pickled in antiseptic!” I grabbed his arm, summoning the old, playful whine he could never resist. For three years, I had dreamed of leaving, but I’d never dared to ask. I wanted him to see me as a fighter, positive and determined. Now, uttering the words, I watched his face. And he agreed. Of course he did. He was, after all, still playing the part of the perfect, doting boyfriend who would do anything for me. The taxi sped through the city, his hand holding mine the entire time. It stopped in front of a run-down, decrepit apartment building. He carried my single bag up the stairs. The moment he opened the door, the air hit me first—stale and thick with the scent of damp and decay. “Stella, after you were hospitalized, I… I had to sell the condo we bought together. I rented this place,” he said, his voice heavy with false regret. “But don’t worry. I’ll work my ass off to buy it back for us.” The condo. We’d saved for two years, filling it with pictures of us, cozy furniture, matching towels and toothbrushes. Lucas, wearing an apron, cooking for me. How could the man in my memories be the same one whose lies I’d overheard in the hospital? Something soft and squishy under my shoe brought me back to the present. I glanced down. A dead mouse. I forced a bright smile. “It’s okay, Lucas! It’s… cozy. It even comes with a little pet!” He dragged my bag inside and began putting my clothes in a rickety dresser, just as he used to do in our beautiful home. “Stella, go get washed up. The doctor said you need to rest.” I went into the bathroom. The water meter on the wall read a definitive, stark: 0. He hadn’t just rented this place. He’d found an abandoned, condemned apartment to complete his charade. Rain began to streak down the grimy windowpane. I turned and caught my reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back sent a jolt of terror through me. Her bald head gleamed with a pale, bluish tint under the single bare bulb. Her cheekbones jutted out like razors. Her eyes were sunk deep into bruised, hollow sockets. That woman… it was me. For three years, Lucas had never let me look in a mirror. Now I knew why. I was a monster. Suddenly, the bathroom door flew open. With a roar of frustration, Lucas slammed his fist into the mirror. Glass exploded, showering the floor. A thousand tiny shards reflected a thousand versions of my grotesque face. Blood dripped from his knuckles onto the cracked linoleum. “Stella, don’t look,” he whispered, pulling me into his arms. “I’m sorry. Don’t look.” But his embrace was suffocating. He was so deep in his own lie, he was starting to drown in it himself. “I’m not that fragile,” I mumbled, pulling away to see his hand. “Let me take care of that.” As I wrapped his knuckles in gauze, the memories became sharper, more painful. Whenever he’d gotten hurt before, he would whine and beg me to kiss it better. It would always end with him pressing me into the mattress, his voice hoarse as he whispered a name over and over. “Evie… Evie…” Not Stella. Evie. A tear escaped and landed on the back of his hand. He flinched as if burned. Just then, his phone rang. He gently stroked my hair and stepped out onto the tiny, rusted balcony to take the call. The flimsy door did nothing to block the sound. “Are you coming home tonight, Lucas?” a girl’s voice, sweet and playful, chirped through the phone. “It’s my birthday tomorrow, you have to be there!” “I’m on my way back right now, sweetheart,” his voice was a river of gentle affection. “I’ll have a present for you tomorrow.” A clap of thunder rattled the windows. “I just got a call for a job,” he said, rushing back inside. “I have to go now. Lock the door behind me. If the thunder gets too loud, just cover your ears.” He was gone in a flash, but not before remembering my fear of thunderstorms. He’d left the balcony door open. A cold gust of wind swept in, drying the tears on my face. Using the last of the money on my phone, I bought a plane ticket home. Just as I confirmed the purchase, a text message popped up from an unknown number. “The Grand Imperial Hotel, tomorrow. You’ll get to see a very different side of your dear Lucas.” I knew who it was. Evie. The mastermind of my three-year-long torture. I’d never even met her. Why was she revealing the truth to me now? It was a trap. I knew it was a trap. But the next day, in an act of pure self-destruction, I went downstairs and bought a wig. … The taxi pulled up to the Grand Imperial Hotel, and the first thing I saw was the massive screen above the entrance. It displayed a looping photo of Lucas, dressed in a breathtakingly expensive custom suit, his hair styled to perfection. On his arm was a beautiful, smiling girl. Evie. So, after five years of being the center of my world, this is how I finally meet her. The invisible girl who, without ever showing her face, had turned my life into a living hell for her own ambition. I slipped into the grand ballroom like a rat slinking through the shadows, watching her moment of triumph. She stood on a stage, holding a microphone. “Thank you all for coming to my birthday celebration! I’m also thrilled to announce that my groundbreaking research on a new leukemia treatment is nearing completion!” The room erupted in applause. They were all praising her genius, her dedication. Her eyes found mine across the crowded room. A glint of challenge, of pure malice, sparked in them. Then, her voice, amplified and laced with panic, filled the hall. “Oh my god! The St. Christopher medal my brother gave me… it’s gone! Someone must have stolen it!” A wave of murmurs and commotion swept through the guests. Lucas immediately ordered the hotel security to find the thief. But they didn’t search the crowd. They walked in a straight line, directly towards me. My blood ran cold. I turned and ran. A hand tangled in my hair, yanking hard. The wig came off, fluttering to the floor. “It’s her! She’s the thief! She’s been lurking in the corner the whole time!” “Search her!” I spun around to face them, and my eyes locked with Lucas’s. He froze, the color draining from his face. He reflexively ran a hand through his own, real hair. “Stella? What are you doing here?” He took a step forward. “Whatever you saw tonight… I can explain when we get home. Please, just be good and give Evie back her medal.” Looking at him now, so polished and powerful, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Tears streamed down my face. “Explain? Explain what? That I don’t have leukemia? That I was just a lab rat for Evie’s little project?” “You’ve been playing me for three years! Was it fun? Did you get a good laugh? I wanted to kill myself, Lucas! I almost did, over and over again!” “You know?” His voice trembled. He reached for me, his hand outstretched. He tried to say more, but Evie’s supporters were already on me. He did nothing to stop them as they grabbed at my clothes. My coat was ripped from my shoulders, exposing the thin hospital gown underneath. And beneath that, my skin. A horrifying canvas of countless needle pricks and vast, mottled bruises covering my torso and arms. Gasps filled the room. “Oh, god! How disgusting!” “What is wrong with her? She looks like she’s carrying a plague! Get her out of here!” Amidst the chorus of disgust, a sharp crack echoed on the marble floor. The St. Christopher medal had fallen from my pocket and shattered. The medal he claimed he’d gotten for me after a pilgrimage to a famous cathedral, where he’d knelt in prayer for days. I remembered him pressing it into my hand, a hot tear falling with it. “Stella,” he’d whispered, “you’re going to be okay.” “That’s it!” Evie shrieked, pointing at the broken pieces. “That’s the one my brother got for me after my fever last year! He went all the way to…” She trailed off, squinting. “Wait… no. That one just… looks like it. I remember now. This is the one he bought online for $4.99 with free shipping.” “A cheap knockoff.”

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1 The merger of New York’s two most powerful dynasties shocked the world—until I caught my fiancée, Sienna Hayes, kissing the scholarship student she sponsored at our engagement party. “Emmet, it’s not what it looks like.” She hastily adjusted her couture gown, cheeks flushed. I laughed coldly as the man fumbled with his collar. “Blind, am I?” I threw the ring at her feet. “Finish this engagement, or your family goes bankrupt. Choose.” Defiant, she retrieved it. “Fine.” But when the ceremony began, she walked past me—straight to him. “The man I love has always been Ryan,” she declared. “I’ll never marry a bastard like you!” The room erupted. Gasps. Mockery. Cameras flashing. And I, Emmet Reed, became New York’s biggest joke. As she kissed him, my heart turned to ash. You betrayed me first, Sienna. Don’t blame me for burning your world down. … “Mr. Reed, the company’s stock has already plummeted by 30%.” My assistant reported the news with his head bowed, his voice trembling. I stared at my phone. The top five trending topics were all about the engagement party fiasco. Under the hashtag #HeiressDefiesArrangedMarriageForLove, the comments were a firestorm of outrage. “Who does this Reed guy think he is? The girl has a true love, and he tries to force her into a marriage? What a shameless scumbag. He deserved to be dumped!” “Sienna Hayes, you are an icon! Show this bastard what karma looks like!” “Reed Corp should just go bankrupt. A trash company like that doesn’t deserve to exist!” Page after page, it was a public trial, and I was the villain. I scrolled through them calmly, my expression unreadable, until a notification for Sienna’s latest post popped up. 【Finally free. Heading toward a new future with the one I love.】 The accompanying photo was a close-up of her hand intertwined with Ryan’s. The engagement ring that was supposed to be ours was now on another man’s finger. I stared at the words for a long time, and then, I laughed. “Get the legal team on the line. I want them to activate the highest-level penalty clause in our contract. Terminate all partnerships with the Hayes Corporation. Immediately.” My assistant’s hand visibly shook. “Sir… shouldn’t we release a statement first? To explain? The entire internet is crucifying you right now…” “What is there to explain?” I cut him off, slamming my phone down on the desk. “I have no time to waste on a treacherous woman like her.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, the familiar ache of a migraine starting, and sank into the plush leather of the sofa. The memories came flooding back. Five years ago, the Hayes family was on the brink of ruin. At a high-profile auction, she had stubbornly kept bidding, trying to save her family’s last ancestral home. The entire room was waiting for her to make a fool of herself. But I saw the fire in her eyes, the refusal to surrender. So I stepped in, bought the estate, and gifted it to her, no strings attached. Back then, she had nothing. She saw me as her lifeline, kneeling at my feet and promising, “Emmet Reed, if you save my family, I will do anything for you.” I had chuckled and helped her up. “Anything? Then marry me.” Her eyes had flashed with anger, but also with a glimmer of something else. To help her family’s company recover, I’d drank myself into a bleeding ulcer at business dinners. She had stayed by my hospital bed, her eyes red, and whispered, “Emmet, don’t you ever do that again.” Seeing her looking at me like I was her entire world, I thought it was all worth it. I thought we were each other’s salvation. I used the Reed Corporation’s resources and my own network to help her rebuild her family’s business empire. I taught her how to be a savvy businesswoman. The Hayes Corporation went from a struggling startup to a global powerhouse. But somewhere along the way, our relationship soured. She started resisting my touch, fighting my decisions. She began to romanticize the past, a simpler time she imagined she’d lost. And that was when Ryan, the scholarship student, appeared. She projected all her nostalgia, all her yearning for a life unburdened by wealth and power, onto him. A month before the engagement, I had warned her directly. “Sienna, I don’t need to tell you how important this merger is. I expect you to act accordingly.” She’d toyed with her teacup, her reply dismissive. “Don’t be so dramatic, Emmet. I just see Ryan as a little brother. His family is struggling. What’s wrong with helping him out?” “He’s a grown man,” I’d reminded her, my voice low. “He can get a job.” She’d slammed her cup down. “It’s not the same! When did you become so cold-hearted? You’re nothing but a cynical, money-obsessed businessman now! Ryan is so much purer than you!” It was in that moment that I understood. She was no longer the girl who needed me. And she was desperate to escape my control. I decided to take a step back, to treat her as nothing more than a business partner. As long as she played her part, everything could proceed as planned. But I forgot one crucial thing: people change. Especially when they convince themselves they are the victim. The door to my office was thrown open. Sienna stormed in, radiating fury, with Ryan trailing timidly behind her. I glanced up at her, my voice cold. “What is it?” She pulled a document from her purse and slapped it onto my desk. “Let’s call off the engagement.” She pulled Ryan into a chair beside her. “Let’s just end this amicably. For our own dignity.” I laughed. “Sienna, you have the nerve to talk about dignity? Where was your dignity last night when you publicly humiliated my family at our engagement party?” I stood up, planting my hands on the desk, and loomed over her. “You didn’t just ruin an engagement party. You destroyed a three-year strategic alliance between our families. You jeopardized the next five years of commercial development for this entire city. Are you telling me you didn’t know that?!” She gave a mocking smile and leaned back, her posture arrogant. “Of course I knew.” “All you ever see is profit! You even turned our engagement into a business transaction!” Ryan tugged at her sleeve, his voice barely a whisper. “Emmet, sir… please don’t blame Sienna. It’s all my fault. I… I couldn’t control my feelings…” “Shut up!” I roared, cutting him off. “No one asked you to speak!” Ryan’s face went white, and he immediately fell silent. The sight of his fear seemed to ignite something in Sienna. She shot to her feet, pointing a finger at me. “Emmet Reed, that’s enough! Just because you helped me once doesn’t mean you get to control my life forever! Every single day with you has been suffocating! You didn’t help my family or drink yourself sick for me! You did it to solidify your own empire! And I was just the most obedient pawn in your game!” Every word was a knife to the heart. I took a deep breath and met her eyes. “So, in your eyes, from the moment I bought your family’s estate, I was just using you?” “When I chartered a private jet to fly in the world’s top specialists for your father’s surgery, that was also an act?” “Sienna, do you even have a heart?” Her eyes flickered with a moment of uncertainty. I smiled, but my eyes were bloodshot. “Sienna, I’m going to ask you one last time.” “Did you ever—” “I loved you!” she blurted out, her face a mask of defiant anger. “Happy now? Did you need to hear that pathetic answer before you’d finally let it go?” Then, in a final act of provocation, she looped her arm through Ryan’s and placed her other hand on her stomach. “But things are different now.” “I’m pregnant with Ryan’s child. I have to do right by them.” The truth, so sudden and brutal, hit me like a physical blow. So that was it. I was just a pawn in their twisted little love story. The very next day, Sienna held a press conference. I sat in my office, watching the news feed, my face an impassive mask. Sienna’s eyes were red-rimmed and her face was pale, the carefully applied makeup unable to hide her exhaustion. Ryan sat beside her, looking like he was bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. “First, I want to sincerely apologize to everyone who has been following this,” she began, her voice catching with a practiced sob. “For five years, I have been repaying a debt of gratitude. Every moment of every day, I’ve had to live under the thumb of the Reed family! A single contract decided the course of my entire life.” She spoke with a tearful choke in her voice for the entire speech. Only when she spoke of Ryan did a genuine smile touch her lips. “Only Ryan cared about what I truly wanted.” She wiped away a non-existent tear. “I admit, Emmet Reed is a brilliant businessman. The Hayes Corporation wouldn’t be where it is today without his help.” But in the next breath, her words turned sharp. “But he controlled every aspect of my life. Which clients I met with, which restaurants I dined at. Even the gowns I wore to galas and the jewelry I was allowed to put on were all pre-approved by him. I felt like a puppet, a marionette with no thoughts of my own, living completely in his shadow.” Ryan, on cue, wrapped a protective arm around her trembling shoulders and cried to the cameras, “Sienna just wanted to be her own person! I couldn’t bear to see her in so much pain! Mr. Reed… I’m so sorry. Please, I’m begging you, just let us go.” The room exploded with flashes. The comments on the livestream went berserk. 【Oh my God! I can’t believe this heiress was living in a gilded cage!】 【Emmet Reed is a monster! A controlling freak! A man like that deserves to rot in hell!】 【I support Sienna! True love will conquer all!】 Finally, Sienna announced that she would be starting a new company, completely separate from the Reed empire. “I will rebuild my company, my way.” “I know the road ahead will be difficult, but with Ryan, and… our child,” she said, her voice filled with resolve, “I know I can do it.” The press conference ended, and the internet boiled over. With the tide of public opinion turned against me, I became the villain of the story. The phones at Reed Tower rang off the hook with calls from the media. Several long-term clients tactfully terminated their contracts, afraid of being associated with the bad press. I stared at Sienna’s duplicitous face on the screen and felt a wave of nausea. A chilling, visceral hatred rose within me. I wiped a cold, damp tear from my own cheek and picked up the phone. “Get the legal team. Conference room in five minutes.” My assistant hesitated. “Sir… is there really no turning back from this?” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. My voice was terrifyingly calm. “The die is cast.” “I’m going to destroy them.”

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To maintain her “single and unattached” persona in the entertainment world, my mother abandoned me in a remote mountain village for eighteen years. I was ten when I overheard my aunt and uncle talking and learned for the first time that my mother was a famous actress. In my first-ever computer class in middle school, my clumsy fingers typed out her name: “Laura Lane.” I watched a video of the glamorous celebrity, her arm draped affectionately around a young girl’s shoulders, announcing that she was adopting the girl as her goddaughter. She promised to treat her like her own flesh and blood. The little girl was moved to tears. They hugged, a perfect picture of mother-daughter devotion. My own eyes burning, I clicked the video closed. Eight years later, I was accepted into Ashton University. On the very first day, I ran into Laura Lane. And with her, the goddaughter she’d claimed in front of the world, a rising starlet named Crystal Liu. 1 It was the first day of orientation at Ashton University. And the first time I had ever seen her in person. My biological mother, Laura Lane. She had just stepped out of a luxury car, but even with the dark sunglasses hiding her eyes, I recognized her instantly. The designer bags, the entourage of assistants buzzing around her—she was the living embodiment of glamour and extravagance. I watched from a distance as she directed her assistants, then wrapped an arm around a young woman and disappeared into the dormitory building. Only then did I slowly start to follow. My hand had just touched the doorknob of my dorm room when I heard a soft, melodramatic complaint from inside. “Darling, this room is so small and shabby. You’ll have to rough it for a while. As soon as orientation is over, we’ll move you out of here.” So, the girl she was doting on was my new roommate. Great. I opened the door, and another girl in the room immediately started the introductions. “This is Crystal Liu, our new roommate, and this is her godmother, Ms. Lane.” “Ms. Lane, the famous actress! We’re so lucky to have you here today!” “And Crystal, haven’t you been in a bunch of TV shows? You’re practically America’s sweetheart.” “You two are just stunning. A real-life goddess mother-daughter duo.” Amidst the chorus of fawning, I gave them a cool nod. Laura’s eyes swept over me, her gaze dripping with disdain as she took in my faded, worn-out clothes. The contempt was palpable. She turned to her assistant, her voice laced with a saccharine poison clearly meant for me. “I hear there are so many neglected children from the countryside these days. It just goes to show, without parents to raise them properly, they don’t even learn basic manners.” The other girls in the room shifted uncomfortably. I stood there silently, a bitter mix of amusement and a familiar ache blooming in my chest. Did she not realize her insult ricocheted right back at her? Here we were, mother and daughter, face to face and complete strangers. The psychic connection that movie mothers always had with their long-lost children was, apparently, a complete fabrication. Crystal, however, had been staring at me for a while, her eyes glittering with undisguised jealousy. As a fellow young woman trying to make it in an industry built on looks, her focus was different from Laura’s. She wasn’t looking at my clothes; she was looking at my face. Laura had made a career out of her beauty, but I had inherited her best features and improved upon them, likely thanks to my unknown biological father. My face was small and delicate, with features that were almost unnervingly perfect. My appearance had clearly triggered a deep sense of insecurity in her. A natural animosity radiated from her. So, after Laura’s little speech, she put on a show of fake concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “My godmother wasn’t talking about you.” I lowered my gaze, refusing to meet her eyes. “I know she wasn’t,” I said quietly. “Because I’m an orphan.” The room fell silent. My other roommates looked at me with a mixture of pity and awkwardness, their gazes flicking meaningfully toward Laura and Crystal. Crystal quickly tried to change the subject. “Right. So, what’s your name?” I glanced at Laura, who was pretending to be engrossed in directing her assistants to make Crystal’s bed, and raised my voice just enough for her to hear clearly. “My name is Briar.” At the name, Laura, who had been pointedly ignoring me, whipped her head around. Her face paled, and her voice was strained when she spoke. “Briar? How do you spell that?” A small, knowing smile touched my lips. “Like the tree. My guardian said she hoped I would grow strong and resilient, with deep roots and branches reaching for the sun. A beautiful sentiment, don’t you think?” Her expression remained strained, but a flicker of relief crossed her features. “Yes,” she said, the words forced. “A lovely meaning.” I accepted her hollow compliment with a polite nod, wondering if she was thinking, just for a second, of the child she had abandoned thousands of miles away. The one she had named Squeak. 2 I knew from a very young age that I was an abandoned child, taken in by my aunt and uncle. For years, I clung to the naive fantasy that my real mother would one day come back for me. I even made excuses for her, imagining she had her reasons, that she had no other choice. That fantasy shattered when I discovered she was a famous actress. She could have afforded to keep me. The simple, brutal truth was that she just didn’t want me. I also knew, from a young age, that I had an ugly name. Whenever my aunt was angry, she would beat me, her words as sharp as her blows. “Squeak! You little sewer rat! Do you know why you’re named Squeak? Because your mother never wanted to see you! She wanted you to spend your whole life hiding in the gutter like a rodent, never able to climb out! Ha!” I didn’t want to believe her. But when I found out my mother was a celebrity, it all made a sick kind of sense. Laura Lane wanted me to live my life in the shadows, scurrying and silent, never getting in her way. She didn’t just abandon me; she branded me with a name meant to keep me down. I was relentlessly bullied for it. Adults and children alike treated me like vermin. The neglect and abuse from my aunt and uncle left me scrawny and small for my age. Until middle school, everyone called me “Dead Rat” or “Filth.” The constant verbal abuse and social ostracism made my life a living hell. Then, in middle school, I met the first true angel of my life: my homeroom teacher, Ms. Gable. She was a kind, wise woman who saw past the grime and the name. When she learned about the bullying, she suggested I change my name. I had no idea that was even possible. I was hesitant. I hated the name, but it was the only link I had to the woman who gave birth to me. So Ms. Gable helped me. She changed “Squeak” to “Briar.” She told me I had a gift for learning and that she hoped I would grow into a strong, resilient woman, bearing fruit for the world. For the first time, I had a name with a beautiful meaning. And my life began to change. When I finished middle school, my aunt and uncle refused to let me continue my education. But Ms. Gable came to our house and argued with them. She even offered to pay for my high school tuition and living expenses out of her own pocket. Because of her, I was able to finish. After graduation, I lied to my aunt and uncle. I told them I’d failed my entrance exams and was moving to another state to work in a factory, promising to send them money every month. That was the only way I could escape to attend university. The state I’d named was a world away from Ashton City. In their minds, I would never cross paths with Laura Lane. After all, the hush money she sent them every year was substantial. They never would have dreamed that I would not only come to her city but run into her on my very first day. 3 Laura was visibly uncomfortable. The name Briar clearly bothered her. She quickly pulled Crystal away, stopping her from talking to me any further. She then produced an armful of expensive skincare products from her bag, reminding Crystal to use sunscreen religiously during orientation to protect her skin for an upcoming audition. At the mention of an audition, my roommates’ ears perked up, and they crowded around, full of questions. Laura and Crystal basked in the attention, their faces glowing with self-satisfaction. “Our Crystal was personally invited to audition by Director Kane’s team,” Laura announced proudly, her arm around Crystal’s shoulders. “It’s a massive project, adapted from a bestselling novel, with A-list stars already attached. It’s going to be a huge hit. And the role Crystal is auditioning for is incredibly endearing. She’s going to gain a massive fanbase.” She patted Crystal’s cheek affectionately. “My sweet, talented girl. You’re amazing.” Watching their nauseatingly intimate performance, I took a deep breath and looked away. Laura spoke as if the role was already Crystal’s. Director Kane… I dug a crumpled business card out of my backpack. I remembered the middle-aged man who had stopped me at the university gates, pressing it into my hand. I typed his full name, Michael Kane, into my phone’s search bar. Sure enough, news articles popped up about his new film, the very one Laura had been boasting about. I was stunned. Was this fate? Karma? A wild, unbelievable stroke of luck? I couldn’t articulate the feeling swirling in my gut. But if the universe was handing me an opportunity on a silver platter, who was I to refuse? I opened my contacts and added Director Kane. 4 I thought seeing Laura in person meant I was finally over it, that I could be indifferent. But that night, a dream proved me wrong. In the dream, a blurry figure held me gently. “Sweetheart, open your eyes. It’s Mommy.” Her warmth was like the winter sun, and I instinctively snuggled closer. No one had ever called me sweetheart. In the dream, I was a baby again, my entire being steeped in a honeyed bliss. I was floating, soft and warm, bubbling with a happiness I had never known. So this is what it felt like to be cherished. It was intoxicating. Mommy. I wanted to see her, the mother who loved me. I struggled to open my eyes. And I saw Laura Lane, her face twisted with venom. Her hands closed around my neck. “You jinx! If it weren’t for you, I would have been a superstar by now! You curse! You deserve to live your entire life in the shadows!” “No… no… Mommy…” I cried, struggling against her grip. The scene shifted. My drunken uncle was dragging me by the wrists into a room like I was a stray dog. My aunt was right behind him, beating me with a broom, screaming that I was a worthless little slut, trying to seduce men at such a young age. She managed to pull me away from him, and terrified, bruised, and bleeding, I ran out of the house and toward town. I didn’t know where to go. Ms. Gable found me wandering near the school and took me home. The dream ended with the image of her son, Alex, frowning at the sight of the dirty, battered girl standing on his doorstep. The intense shame and despair jolted me awake. My pillow was soaked with tears. 5 Not long after I contacted Director Kane, he called me in for an audition. Two weeks of orientation had left most of the students with a tan, but luckily, my skin doesn’t burn easily. After a brief reading, he clapped me on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “It’s like this role was written for you,” he said. From the short script I was given, I gathered that the character was a supporting role—a girl who was swapped at birth at the hospital, abused by her adoptive parents, but who, through sheer force of will, clawed her way out of the mud alongside the female lead. She eventually reunites with her wealthy biological parents and becomes the lead’s greatest ally. It was a fantastic character arc. Director Kane had a reputation for a reason; his eye for talent was sharp. It was uncanny how he had picked me out of a crowd, a girl who shared the character’s background and, to some extent, her life story. He kept the casting decision under wraps, so Crystal had no idea the role had already been filled. That evening in the dorm, she was doing her skincare routine and boasting about her audition the next day. “I’ll treat everyone to bubble tea when I get back to celebrate,” she announced. One of my roommates, Sasha, who was a local from Ashton City, was getting tired of Crystal’s constant bragging about a role she didn’t even have yet. “Hey, Crystal,” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye, “why don’t you take Briar with you to the audition? She’s even prettier than you are. Maybe the director will give her a part too. Then we’ll have two celebrities in our dorm!” Crystal’s face contorted with rage at Sasha’s blunt comparison. “It takes more than a pretty face to be an actress,” she sneered. “Briar has no training and no connections. But if she’s interested, I could probably get her a role as an extra. She could start by playing a corpse. You have to start small, you know.” The “playing a corpse” line was a deliberate, pathetic attempt to humiliate me. “That sounds great,” I replied with a bright smile. “I’ve actually been reading up on acting lately. If an opportunity like that comes up, don’t forget about me!” I knew perfectly well she would never lift a finger to help me. The next day, Laura came to the university to pick Crystal up for the audition. For some reason, she seemed even more invested in this role than Crystal was. I pulled out my phone and texted Director Kane, asking if I could come to the set to observe. He readily agreed, joking that they were casting my character’s parents today, so I might as well come and see if I had any chemistry with the actors. As I approached the studio, I saw Laura and Crystal waiting outside. Laura was fussing over Crystal, straightening her hair, smoothing her clothes, playing the part of the devoted, anxious mother to perfection. When Crystal finally went inside and was handed the script, her face fell. It wasn’t the script for the supportive best friend. It was for the bitchy, backstabbing villain. She stumbled through the audition. Her dazed, confused state actually worked for the character, and the director was surprisingly pleased with her performance. He was ready to offer her the part on the spot. Crystal stammered that she wanted to try for the other role, and only then did the director inform her it had already been cast. Later, Laura came in to audition as well, and I finally understood why she was so obsessed with Crystal getting that part. She wanted to play the main character’s mother. With their carefully curated “mother-daughter” brand, if Crystal had landed the role of the best friend, Laura would have been a shoo-in for the part of her wealthy, elegant mother. But now, with Crystal cast as the villain, the director offered Laura the role of the villain’s mother—a crass, abusive, lower-class shrew. The two roles were polar opposites. One was a sophisticated society lady; the other was a vulgar harpy. Playing the latter would completely destroy the image Laura had spent years building. She was torn. She couldn’t bear to miss out on such a high-profile project, but she was terrified of what the role would do to her career. The look of tortured indecision on her face was almost comical. I sat among the crew, my face hidden by a mask. Neither of them saw me. Afterward, I was about to slip out the back when I overheard them whispering. “I’ve already asked around,” Laura was saying, trying to soothe a fuming Crystal. “No one got the script for the other role today. It’s probably not officially cast yet. When the director comes out, we’ll try to talk to him again.” “Godmother, I already told all my fans I was playing the good girl!” Crystal whined, pushing Laura’s hand away. “They’ve already started promoting it online! How am I supposed to explain that I’m now some nameless, evil side character?” “Don’t worry, darling,” Laura said, her voice tight with anxiety. “I know people. As long as the studio hasn’t made an official announcement, we can still figure something out.” As I walked past them, Crystal glanced at my retreating back. “Godmother, doesn’t that person look a little like my roommate, Briar?” Laura scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. What would that country bumpkin be doing here? Probably trying to get a job as an extra. Let’s not even talk about her. She’s bad luck.”

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There are two moments of profound vulnerability in love. The first is when you’re consumed by a burning passion for someone, desperate to make them yours, chasing them with everything you have. The second is when you know they don’t love you anymore, but you still can’t let go. I spent six years in the first moment. I spent five years in the second. 1 My husband’s first love came back to town. He sent me away on a business trip, then threw a lavish welcome-home party for her under the guise of a class reunion. When I arrived, I found him locked in a passionate, lingering kiss with Lydia. In a corner simmering with unspoken history, my sudden appearance cast a chilling frost over the warm reunion. The air grew thick and still. In the suffocating silence, Caleb dragged me into the restroom. His expression was glacial. “Are you trying to humiliate me on purpose, Julia?” I stared at his lips, swollen and red from the kiss, and my heart clenched. “Caleb, do you even see me as your wife?” He scoffed. “You really haven’t changed at all, have you? So damn needy.” His voice dripped with contempt. “I told you from the very beginning. There’s only one woman I’ll ever call my wife, and that’s Lydia.” “But Lydia’s already—” A slap, swift and merciless, cut me off. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, as if I were the one forcing him into this humiliating display of devotion to another woman. Utterly drained, I let out a slow breath. “Caleb, let’s get a divorce.” A flicker of surprise crossed his face before it hardened back into a sneer. “If anyone’s filing for divorce, it’ll be me.” His voice was low and menacing. “You, Julia, don’t have the right.” 2 I didn’t have the right. Any rights I had were scraps he’d thrown me from the start. Caleb had married me out of spite. Five years ago, after a fight with Lydia, he’d made a grand, public spectacle of confessing his feelings for me. The very next day, he received news of Lydia’s engagement—to his own cousin. Blinded by rage, he crashed their engagement party and then dragged me straight to City Hall. Why me? Because I was at my lowest point, a convenient prop to slap Lydia in the face with. Everyone said I was just the rebound, a pathetic second choice. I didn’t care. Because I loved Caleb. I’d loved him since I was seventeen. I loved him for shouting, “The cops are here!” in that dark alleyway. I loved the sound of the wind chime on his backpack, tinkling in the evening breeze. Most of all, I loved him for keeping my secret for two long years. I loved him, even knowing his heart belonged to someone else. After we married, I bent over backward for him. I was deferential, accommodating, managing every detail of our lives with meticulous care. In five years, his parents had come to adore me, showering me with praise. But Caleb remained as cold as ice. My sin? The day Lydia left the country, I’d locked him in our bedroom. He had been planning to follow her, but as the sole heir to the Sterling family, he was bound to stay. With nowhere to channel his fury, he dumped it all on me. I grew accustomed to his cruel words, his endless humiliations. But on those nights when he was drunk, when he’d cling to me, a drunken, weeping mess, crying out Lydia’s name… each syllable was a silver needle piercing my heart. In those moments, I’d lie to myself. I’d kiss him to silence his lips, and in the muffled sounds, I could pretend he was calling my name, pretend it was me he loved. But the fantasy would shatter the next morning with the sting of a careless slap, a brutal reminder of reality. Every glare, every word, was proof: he didn’t love me. He never would. In his eyes, my love was something shameful, something to be hidden. That’s why, for five years, he’d been relentlessly trying to divorce me. He used every trick in the book. He was photographed leaving exclusive clubs with models, spotted at karaoke bars with rising starlets. On our third anniversary, he staged a “drunken” call while I was away on business. I drove through the night, frantic with worry, only to walk in on a live show playing out in our living room. I flew into a rage, physically throwing the woman out. When I turned back, Caleb was lounging elegantly on the sofa in a silk robe. His mocking gaze cut through the haze of cigarette smoke, a blade twisting in my chest. He gestured lazily towards our marriage certificate on the coffee table. “Let’s find some time to take care of this.” He knew I’d rush back. He had orchestrated the whole thing. He wasn’t incapable of touching someone; he just didn’t want to touch me. His indifference was a net, closing in around me, condemning my love to a slow death. “If you’re tired, go rest,” I said, my voice steady as I took off my coat and began cleaning up the mess. “Make sure you shower. Women like that are filthy.” “Julia!” Caleb’s voice turned hard. “If you have any shred of dignity, you’ll sign the damn papers.” I ignored him. “If you’re hungry, I can make you some—” A sharp slap cut through my words. Caleb’s eyes were bloodshot, his tone dripping with scorn. “God, you’re pathetic, Julia! You think this will get you control of Sterling Corp? That clinging to this marriage will hand you the company?” He stared at me, his teeth clenched. “Keep dreaming.” He looked at me as if I were his mortal enemy. That day, staring at our marriage certificate, my world tilted. Dreaming. I had been dreaming all along. I thought my years of silent devotion had finally paid off, that I could finally love him out in the open. I was so sure that, with time, he would see my love was fiercer, more real than Lydia’s. How utterly ridiculous it all was. 3 I woke up in an unfamiliar room. My head felt like it was splitting open. “You’re awake?” The door opened and a man walked in. “Here, drink this. It’ll help with the hangover.” I looked at him, then down at my own naked body under the sheets. A cold sweat prickled my skin. He seemed to notice my panic. “What are you thinking?” he said, walking closer. He gently turned my face towards him, his eyes deep and knowing. “What, you’ve forgotten me already?” I stared at his face for a long moment before two words escaped my lips. “Liam…?” He smiled. “Long time no see, Julia.” Seeing him wasn’t strange in itself; he was Lydia’s husband. But seeing him here, now, was beyond strange. “How did I get here?” “You were wasted last night. I found you passed out on the street. Figured I’d carry you home before you froze to death.” Right. I remembered now. After storming out of the reunion, I’d called my friend Chloe and we’d gone drinking. “Where’s Chloe?” “Sleeping in the guest room.” “And… this?” I gestured to my state of undress. “You threw up all over yourself. I had someone help clean you up.” He said it so casually that I felt foolish for my suspicion. I managed an embarrassed laugh. “Thank you.” He shrugged. “Buy me dinner sometime.” I didn’t know much about Liam. He was Caleb’s cousin, a transfer student our sophomore year of high school. He was always quiet and shy, trailing after Caleb like a shadow, a habit that continued all the way through college. He handed me a set of clothes. “Borrowed these from my downstairs neighbor.” After a bit of small talk, he asked about Caleb and me. I guessed he hadn’t been at the reunion either. “We’re fine.” A faint smile played on his lips. “Fine? The two of them were practically devouring each other, and you call that fine?” I froze, then gave a bitter laugh. “Look who’s talking. Neither of us is in a position to judge the other.” “That’s where we’re different,” he said nonchalantly. “I don’t love Lydia.” “Then why did you marry her?” He pursed his lips. “Caleb doesn’t love you, but he married you, didn’t he?” He was always brutally honest. I fell silent. “So,” he began, his tone suddenly hesitant, “are you really going to divorce him?” I looked at him, surprised. “I was in the restroom yesterday. I… overheard you two talking.” His voice got quieter and quieter, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Just angry words.” He looked vaguely disappointed. I didn’t stay long. I stopped by the office, then went home. Caleb was in the living room, eating lunch alone. He looked me up and down. “You weren’t home last night. Or at the office. Where were you?” “Meeting a client,” I said, shrugging off the ill-fitting coat. His face darkened. “Julia, if you dare cheat on me, I’ll make sure everyone pays.” How ironic. He could cheat, but I couldn’t. “If you can’t handle it, let’s just get divorced,” I said wearily. “Are you threatening me, Julia?” He slammed his fork on the table. “Don’t you dare use my father against me!” He was the one who wanted a divorce, and now he was the one fighting it. I glanced at his furious face and turned towards the bedroom. “Whatever you want, Caleb.” “Julia, you get back here! You—” The bedroom door clicked shut, silencing his shouts. I collapsed onto the bed, a strange emptiness hollowing me out. They say that with enough time, a man can mistake constant companionship and care for love. Why didn’t that work for me? Until yesterday, I’d never seriously considered divorcing him. Or rather, I never thought I needed his love to sustain our marriage. I was content to be the one who loved without reciprocation, to keep the peace by always backing down. I just wanted to be by his side, at least until something truly unforgivable happened. Just like that year in the alley, when he stood silhouetted against the light, neither stepping forward nor walking away… The ringing of my phone shattered my thoughts. It was my sister, her voice choked with sobs. “Julia… Mom’s not going to make it.” In that instant, everything else faded away. I bolted out the door, not even hearing whatever Caleb was shouting behind me. 4 The hospital room was filled with muffled sobs, and the heavy scent of antiseptic stung my hungover senses. My mother lay peacefully on the bed. For a moment, I was transported back to those nights eleven years ago, when I’d stood guard outside her room with a knife in my hand. Back then, my father’s business had failed, leaving us with a mountain of debt before he jumped from a building. My mother cried herself sick, and soon the debt collectors had her hospitalized. My sister, to pay off the debts, married a much older man and was thrown into the vipers’ nest of his family’s internal power struggles. And I was seventeen. Powerless. Caleb’s mother was comforting my sister. Caleb himself handed me a cup of hot water. “If you need anything, just ask.” He had already done so much. The money he’d donated had given my mother eleven more years with me. “Thank you.” He seemed unsatisfied with my reply. “If you need to cry, I can—” Overwhelmed, I pulled him into a hug. “Caleb, thank you.” He didn’t push me away. He just gently patted my back, a tenderness I’d never felt from him before. After that, Caleb changed. The sarcasm and coldness vanished, replaced by patience and even warmth. He started accompanying me to corporate events, would playfully whine for my attention in public, and even made me porridge when my stomach ached from drinking too much at business dinners. When rumors started to spread, he posted a picture of himself stealing a kiss from me on social media. He was showing the world how much he loved me. But I knew the truth. It was all a calculated performance to make Lydia jealous. At the charity gala, he was radiant in a custom-tailored suit. Even Lydia, who usually ignored him, couldn’t help but steal a few glances. As the top donor, he stood on stage with Lydia, the event’s host. They were a picture-perfect couple, their witty banter earning thunderous applause. Everyone was whispering what a perfect match they were. When the host teased them, Lydia basked in the attention, but Caleb shook his head. “My wife is actually here tonight,” he announced. A spotlight swung onto me, forcing me to my feet. Under the intense glare of the crowd, Caleb recounted the story of our five years together, a curated tale of struggles and affection, culminating in another heartfelt confession of his love for me. Beside him, Lydia’s smile tightened. After the speeches, they both approached me. “Mrs. Sterling, good to see you again,” Lydia said. Her tone was technically polite, but the formality was a deliberate jab. “I didn’t get a chance to catch up with you at the reunion. Caleb was so disappointed.” I offered a tight smile. “You’ve just returned, Ms. Vance. I’m sure you’re busy. If there’s anything you need, please let us know.” The rumor was that Lydia’s company was in financial trouble. She arched an eyebrow. “Actually, there is a small favor I’d like to ask.” Her gaze shifted to Caleb. “When I was abroad, my mother spoke of Caleb constantly. She’s fallen ill recently, and I was wondering if you might be free tonight?” Caleb’s expression was unreadable. “Tonight, I’m afraid…” “Caleb?” Lydia ignored me, her voice softening as she spoke his name. “You know how frail my mother is. She just wants to see you.” Her hand crept to his waist, a subtle, possessive touch. I looked at Caleb, then tightened my grip on the hand I was holding. He looked down, hesitated, then his gaze hardened. I felt the warmth in my palm slowly drain away until I was holding nothing but air. Without a word of explanation, he turned and walked away, the grand declaration of love from moments before dissolving like a scene from a play. “That’s a pretty flimsy excuse.” Liam had appeared out of nowhere, swirling the wine in his glass as he watched Caleb’s retreating figure. He clicked his tongue. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. It wasn’t the first time he’d abandoned me, so why did my stupid heart still ache? I snatched the glass from Liam’s hand and downed it in one go. “I’m buying you dinner tonight. You in?” 5 Liam agreed without hesitation. After the gala, we met at a restaurant. He’d changed into a wine-red silk shirt that, with his slightly wavy hair, looked incredibly charming. In the flickering candlelight, I let my words become dangerously playful. “I never realized you had such a flamboyant side,” I teased. He smiled sideways at me. “You used to have eyes only for Caleb. There was no room for anyone else.” “Was I that obvious?” He chuckled and pulled out his phone, opening his photo album. As he spoke, he swiped through picture after picture, presenting them like evidence. In each one, a younger me stared wistfully at Caleb’s back, a lonely outsider on the fringes of his life. The space between us shrank. The intoxicating scent of his cologne filled my senses. On impulse, I reached out and touched his face, so strikingly similar to Caleb’s. “Do you love me?” I whispered. A blush crept up his neck to the tips of his ears. He pulled back, popping a spicy pepper into his mouth. It was so hot his eyes started to water. He dodged the question. “Caleb can handle spice this intense?” I realized I’d crossed a line. I reined in my emotions and handed him a glass of water. “Oh, him? He can’t live without it.” “And you? Do you love it?” he asked, the question hanging in the air. “I mean, do you love spicy food?” I shook my head with a small smile. “What about sweets? Like cake? Cookies?” In high school, Caleb would sometimes give me things like that, little acts of charity. “I don’t mind them.” “You have to come over to my place sometime, then. Try my baking.” He looked at me, his smile as tempting as a dew-kissed rose. As if possessed, I heard myself agree. As we were leaving, he pointed to the bouquet of roses on the passenger seat of my car. “If no one wants those, can I have them?” He cradled the flowers with a look of pure contentment. “I remember, today is your fifth anniversary with Caleb.” A day that everyone else remembered. I felt a pang of guilt. “Sorry for dragging you into my drama tonight.” “I had a great time,” he said, holding up the roses. “It’s been a while since I got flowers.” “Doesn’t Lydia love sending flowers to men?” Liam gently stroked a petal. “She and I divorced two years ago,” he said quietly. “…That’s good,” I murmured, my eyes on the roses. “A one-sided marriage never lasts long.” He gave me a meaningful smile. “No, it doesn’t. And a one-sided love is always bound to be… vulnerable.” 6 I’d heard it said there are two moments of profound vulnerability in love. The first is when you’re consumed by a burning passion for someone, desperate to make them yours, chasing them with everything you have. The second is when you know they don’t love you anymore, but you still can’t let go. I spent six years in the first moment. I spent five years in the second. I presented the divorce agreement during a Sterling family dinner, right in front of Caleb’s parents. The two of them looked grave; Caleb, as usual, was a mask of cold indifference. He broke the silence by pulling me into the bedroom. “Do you really think this is amusing?” No. It wasn’t amusing at all. “You know my dad will never agree. Is being Vice President not enough for you anymore? Are you after my position, too?” “Caleb,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “That year, in the alley… why did you help me?” He frowned. “And the donation money… it was from you, wasn’t it? Why did you tell me it was a fundraiser?” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” It seemed he wouldn’t grant me even a sliver of warmth to hold onto. A lump formed in my throat. “I just want to know. In these five years, have you ever loved me? Even for a second, did you ever feel anything?” I knew it was a stupid, self-defeating question, but I needed an answer—either to soothe my soul or to finally kill it. His anger subsided, replaced by a complicated look. “The day we got our license, I made it very clear. We live our own lives. We don’t interfere with each other.” “Then why didn’t you bring that up when you were enjoying—exploiting—my care and devotion?” “That was your choice!” he snapped, pulling his hand away from mine. “You were the one who insisted! Am I supposed to be responsible for your one-sided obsession forever?” The cheapest things in the world, I realized, are the things freely given. A sincere heart that costs nothing. A gentle nature that achieves nothing. A love that never wavers. I laughed at myself, a bitter, hollow sound. But with the laughter came a surprising sense of release. “You gave me a chance to repay my debt. When we divorce, I won’t take a single thing.” I’d always refused to divorce him, partly because I still held onto a sliver of hope, and partly because his father wouldn’t let me go—five years ago, when Sterling Corp was on the brink of collapse, I had worked myself to the bone for over a year to bring it back. Now, the company was stable. The debt was repaid. And my love had been worn to nothing. “I told you, I’m the only one who can initiate a divorce.” He always had to have the upper hand. I had no energy left to argue. I turned to leave. “I’ll speak to your father about—” “Lydia’s pregnant!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “394027”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On a variety show, my celebrity daughter claimed she felt like an outsider at home, saying, “They always tell me, ‘If you’re so capable, go fend for yourself.’” The internet rallied behind her, shoving a mic in my face, demanding an explanation. “Explain what?” I finally said. “That she gave me a snake necklace, cockroach earrings, and a toad music box? Or when she tried to eat mercury like candy? Or dug up the wrong grave at midnight?” Silence fell—then public opinion flipped. 【They only told you to leave? They should’ve beaten you. Kids remember wrongs, not the full story… When will her parents recover from her trauma?】 1 The phone rang while I was repotting an orchid. The caller ID read “Nora the Fearless,” my special nickname for my daughter, Nora. She’s been daring since she was a little girl, and that boldness eventually led her straight into the entertainment industry, where she became one of the few female action stars who does all her own stunts. “Mom, you busy? Come be on a variety show with me.” Nora’s voice was crisp and direct, just like her. I instinctively frowned, my hands pausing over the soil. “No, thanks.” “I can’t fight, and I definitely can’t scale a tree in ten seconds.” A weary sigh came through the phone. “Mom, what are you talking about? It’s not that kind of show.” She sounded exasperated. “It’s a family show that promotes career equality. They invite celebrities from different fields to bring their family members who have other professions. It’s to show people what different jobs are really like.” “Dad’s off studying a volcano in another country and won’t be back for a while,” she added. “Otherwise, we could have all gone together.” Hearing that, my heart softened a bit. My husband, Walter, is a geologist who spends his life chasing active volcanoes around the globe. We rarely get to be together as a family. But I was still wary. TV shows always have a gimmick. “Are you sure there’s no mortal danger? I don’t have to jump off a cliff or wrestle an alligator, do I?” “Mom!” Nora’s voice shot up half an octave before she reined it in, a note of exasperated amusement in her tone. “Can you just trust me for once? It’s just talking and playing some games. Totally safe.” To convince me, she did something she hadn’t done in years. She drew out the last word, her voice taking on an almost pleading, whiny quality. “Please, Mom?” I froze. The trowel in my hand clattered to the floor. Ever since Nora started her martial arts training, the word “cutesy” had been permanently erased from her vocabulary. She was tough, independent, and never showed a hint of weakness. I had teased her more than once, asking her to act cute for me, but she always stood her ground, saying, “Mom, I’m not a little girl anymore. That’s so cringey.” Now, that long-lost, slightly awkward plea felt like a warm current melting in my chest. I was secretly thrilled but decided to play it cool. “Just asking isn’t enough.” “Huh?” “How about this,” I said, clearing my throat to hide my smile. “You owe me one. The next time I ask you to act cute, you have to do it just like you did today. Then I’ll agree.” There was a full five seconds of silence on the other end, followed by a shouted, “Deal!” Then she hung up. Beaming, I wiped my hands and sent a text to my husband. Walt, I’ve got something amazing to show you when you get back. Our daughter knows how to be cute again! The message went out into the void. He was probably in some signal-dead zone near a volcano again. 2 On the day of the first recording, I arrived at the studio as promised. Nora’s team was waiting for me at the entrance and led me to a private dressing room backstage. The show was called The Other Side of the Job, and the theme was genuinely interesting. In today’s hyper-connected world, professional stereotypes have become more entrenched than ever. The show aimed to break those down by inviting celebrities and their family members from different professions to promote career equality. Nora, a rising action star, was at the peak of her popularity. Her fight scenes were clean and powerful, and she never used a stunt double or complained about the grueling work. That grit had earned her a solid place in the industry. But it also fueled all sorts of speculation about her family background. Many people just assumed that for a girl to be that tough, she must have come from a difficult home that forced her to be that way. I had just sat down in the dressing room when a young assistant handed me a tablet displaying the live comments from the stream. 【Nora’s mom is finally making an appearance? I’m so curious about her.】 【My guess? She’s from the countryside, probably favors sons over daughters, which is why Nora is so desperate to prove herself.】 【From the glimpse in the promo, she dresses pretty plainly. Probably just a housewife. Maybe she has a son to support too. Ugh, being the older sister is always the worst.】 【Stop making stuff up. But judging by Nora’s intensity, her family probably isn’t well-off.】 I read the comments with a small, amused smile. A son? One Nora the Fearless was more than enough to handle. Another one would probably tear this family apart. I put the tablet aside. Before long, there was a knock on the door, and the other two sets of guests arrived. The producers had arranged a common lounge area for everyone to get acquainted. The first pair to walk in was the popular singer-songwriter, Evan, and his girlfriend, Cobie. Cobie wrote the lyrics for almost all of Evan’s songs, and they were widely considered the industry’s golden couple. They certainly looked the part, whispering and smiling, their affection for each other impossible to hide. The other pair was the award-winning actress, Maya, and her younger sister, Stella. Maya was a household name, known for her humility. She greeted us warmly, her smile genuine. Nora responded politely. “Nora, it’s been a while! I saw your new movie. Your fighting was incredible,” Maya said with sincere admiration. “You’re too kind, Maya,” Nora replied. But the sister trailing behind her was a different story entirely. Stella’s chin was tilted high, her eyes scanning the room with undisguised disdain. She glanced at Evan and Cobie, a smirk playing on her lips. “A trashy songwriter, worthy of being on the same show as us?” Evan and Cobie’s faces fell, but they were too well-mannered to say anything. Then, Stella’s gaze shifted to Nora and me. She looked Nora’s casual, athletic wear up and down, her nose wrinkling in disgust. “You reek of sweat. So gross. All that fighting… you don’t look like a girl at all.” 3 The air in the room instantly turned to ice. Nora’s expression hardened, and her hands, resting on her knees, clenched into fists. I gently patted her hand, signaling her to stay calm. “Stella!” Maya’s face darkened, and she immediately reprimanded her. “That’s incredibly rude! Apologize to everyone, now!” But Stella clearly had no respect for her older sister. She just snorted dismissively. “Apologize for what? I’m just telling the truth. What’s so great about you, huh? You just got into the industry a few years before me and got lucky with an award. Just you wait. In a few years, I’ll be way more famous than you.” With that, she smoothed down her expensive designer dress and stormed out of the dressing room. Maya’s face flushed with embarrassment. She took a deep breath and turned to us, her expression full of apology. “I’m so sorry. My sister… she’s new to the industry and has been spoiled by our family. She can be arrogant and doesn’t think before she speaks. Please, forgive her.” Evan managed a tight smile and squeezed his girlfriend’s hand. “It’s fine, Maya. We don’t mind.” I also nodded with a smile. “It’s alright. Young people can be a bit fiery.” We all tacitly agreed to move on from the awkward moment. A staff member soon came to get us for the show. I glanced at the tablet the assistant had placed on the table. The comment section had exploded. 【OMG, who is this Stella? How can she talk like that in front of everyone?】 【She’s always been like this. She’s had good connections from the start, so it’s no surprise she’s arrogant.】 【To be fair, she’s a decent actress. Her supporting roles have been pretty good. What she’s like in private doesn’t matter to us viewers.】 【Are you kidding me? Rude is rude. It has nothing to do with her talent. I feel bad for Nora and Evan.】 The bright spotlights hit us, shutting out the backstage drama. The host’s enthusiastic voice filled the studio, and the show officially began. “Welcome, everyone, to The Other Side of the Job!” the host announced, holding a stack of cue cards. “Today, we have three very special sets of guests who will share with us the untold stories behind their careers and families.” The show proceeded as planned. The first segment was a warm-up, where the guests introduced themselves and their family members’ professions. The microphone was first passed to Maya. She was dressed in an elegant champagne-colored gown, her makeup flawless. As a celebrated actress, she hardly needed an introduction. The host showered her with praise, discussing everything from her classic roles to her recent international awards. The studio audience and the online comments were full of applause. “Maya, today you’ve brought your younger sister, Stella, is that right?” the host asked. “Stella is also a rising star in our industry. Welcome!” The host turned the microphone to Stella. She adjusted her dress and took the mic, a look of entitled pride on her face. “Hello, I’m Stella.” Her introduction was curt, as if any more words would be a waste of her breath. 4 The moment she finished speaking, I glanced at the tablet. The comments were already flying. 【Didn’t they say family members from other professions? Why did the actress bring her actress sister?】 【Isn’t that against the rules? What was the production team thinking?】 【What do you think? Connections, obviously. Look at her, so full of herself.】 【Her sister Maya is so nice, though. How can they be so different?】 The host, a seasoned professional, clearly saw the feedback and quickly smoothed things over. “While both Stella and Maya are in the entertainment industry, one is an established, award-winning actress, and the other is a promising newcomer. They are at completely different stages of their careers, facing different challenges. In a way, they represent the ‘other side’ within the industry itself, don’t you think?” His explanation was flawless, temporarily quelling the online chatter. The microphone was then passed to Evan. He seemed a bit nervous, tightening his grip on Cobie’s hand. He briefly introduced himself as a singer and then looked lovingly at the girl beside him. “There’s been a lot of speculation about my personal life online, and I’ve never officially addressed it,” he began, his voice clear and steady. “Today, I want to take this opportunity to properly introduce someone. This is Cobie. Not only is she the brilliant lyricist behind many of my songs, but she’s also been my girlfriend for many years.” The studio erupted in cheers and applause. Cobie blushed but squeezed Evan’s hand and smiled at the camera. The comment section exploded. 【AHHHH! It’s official! My ship has sailed!】 【I KNEW IT! The lyrics were too sweet not to be written by a real couple!】 【Nooo, my man is taken… but I’m happy for them. They look so perfect together.】 【A real-life fairy tale. They’re meant to be!】 I watched them, a warmth spreading through my chest. It was a beautiful thing to see young people in love so openly. Finally, the host’s attention turned to Nora and me. “And last but not least, let’s welcome the incredibly popular action star, Nora, and her… very mysterious mother!” All eyes were on us. As the toughest and most daring actress of her generation, Nora had always been shrouded in mystery. She never spoke about her family, and her parents had never appeared in public. The speculation about us could fill a hundred-episode drama series. Nora took the microphone, her words as concise as ever. “Hello, everyone. I’m Nora. This is my mom, Sue.” The host smiled at me. “Hello, Sue. We are all so curious. With a daughter as amazing as Nora, we all want to know what kind of family raised her. What do you and Nora’s father do for a living?” I looked at the camera and spoke calmly. “Her father’s name is Walter. He’s a geologist who studies volcanic activity and is often abroad.” A small murmur of surprise went through the audience. Geologist—a profession that felt distant and foreign to most. I paused, then continued. “My name is Sue. I’m a craftsman. I create handmade items related to our country’s intangible cultural heritage.” 5 After I spoke, the studio was quiet for a few seconds. The live comments, however, went wild. 【A geologist? A cultural heritage craftsman? What kind of power couple is this?】 【One chases volcanoes, the other makes crafts… sounds like they’re never home.】 【No wonder Nora is so independent. She basically raised herself.】 【This is kind of sad. It’s like her parents live in their own worlds, and she had to fight her way through life alone. So tough.】 【So the rumors about her coming from a poor family are half-true? Not financially poor, but definitely lacking in parental love and attention.】 The host, a true pro, immediately seized on the emotional thread in the comments and moved to the next segment. “After hearing your introductions, I’ve noticed something interesting,” he said. “The influence of family on each person is so different. So, let’s talk about that. How has your family influenced your career path?” He once again gave the first question to Maya. Her story was well-known. She spoke candidly about growing up in a poor, single-parent household. She had entered the entertainment industry simply because a scout had noticed her looks, and it was a quick way to make money and improve their lives. “But it’s strange,” she said, her voice filled with nostalgia. “I started out just trying to survive, but when you truly immerse yourself in it, experiencing different lives and creating different characters, you slowly fall in love with it. Acting became the most important part of my life.” Her story was sincere and moving, and the comments were full of praise. 【A true self-made woman. She fought for everything she has.】 【Started for the money, but stayed for the love. That’s a career ‘marriage of convenience’ that turned into real love.】 【Her mom has remarried and is happy now, and Maya is successful. It’s a happy ending after a hard life.】 When it was Stella’s turn, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. She pouted, her tone dripping with superiority and resentment. “My sister had no choice back then. I’m different. I genuinely love acting. And I think I’m more talented than her. She just got an early start.” She lifted her chin and declared to the camera, “In the future, I’ll definitely be more successful than her. I’ll win more awards and become a true star.” The statement made the studio audience uncomfortable. Maya’s smile was strained. She patted her sister’s hand gently. “It’s good to have dreams. Just work hard.” The online comments were less forgiving. 【I can’t with her. What kind of thing is that to say?】 【She’s so ungrateful. Without her sister, she wouldn’t have any of the opportunities she has now.】 【Her emotional intelligence is zero. She’s embarrassing her sister on national television.】 【She really thinks she’s all that, completely oblivious to the fact that she’s standing on the shoulders of a giant.】 Stella clearly saw the live feedback. Her face flushed, and she opened her mouth to argue. Just as a sisterly fight was about to break out on live TV, the host deftly cut her off, swiftly turning the microphone to Nora, who had been silent all this time. The cameras followed, focusing on my daughter. “Nora!” the host’s voice was leading. “After hearing your mother’s introduction, everyone is even more curious about your upbringing. We all know that being an action star is incredibly difficult. Injuries are common, and many male actors can’t handle it, let alone a young woman. So, we’re all wondering, why did you choose this path?” He paused, his gaze sharp, and threw the question that had been brewing online for ages directly at her. “Many people believe that for a girl to be so tough, so willing to endure hardship, she must have come from a very difficult family, or lacked love and care growing up, forcing her onto this path as a way to prove herself. What do you have to say about that?” 6 In an instant, the air in the studio seemed to freeze. All the lights, all the cameras, all the gazes—sympathetic, speculative, curious—formed an invisible net around my daughter. Nora held the microphone, silent for a moment. Then she lifted her head, her eyes meeting the camera directly. There was no trace of self-pity, only a straightforward honesty. “Yes, the host is right,” she began, her voice clear and strong. “My choice to take this path is definitely related to my family.” A wave of murmurs swept through the audience. The live comments ignited. “Even though I’m their biological child,” she continued, her words deliberate and clear, “I always felt like an outsider in my own home.” “They were always telling me to get out, saying, ‘If you’re so capable, go fend for yourself.’” My eyelid twitched. This child… her memory was bad enough, but did she have to take everything so literally? Her words, however, were like a drop of water in a hot skillet. The comments exploded. The screen was flooded with messages like “I feel so bad for Nora,” “Hugs, queen,” and “What kind of garbage parents are these?” A flicker of excitement crossed the host’s face. He had found the show’s dramatic high point. He pushed the microphone closer to Nora, encouraging her to continue. And she didn’t disappoint. Seeming to gain momentum from his encouragement, she nodded eagerly. “Exactly! When I was a kid, I watched Jackie Chan Adventures, and I thought Jade was so cool—smart and a great fighter. I wanted to be just like her. I figured someone that awesome could definitely fend for herself and wouldn’t have to put up with anyone’s crap.” She started rambling, recounting what sounded like an inspiring backstory. “So I decided to find a master and learn real skills. Then no one could bully me or kick me out ever again. Now I’ve succeeded. I can support myself. Looking back, I don’t really hold any grudges.” She finished with a magnanimous smile, as if she were a queen who had risen above her past. The sympathy for her in the comments reached its peak. She was hailed as “a clear-headed queen” and “the epitome of an independent woman.” At the same time, the criticism aimed at my husband and me was relentless. 【They had a kid but didn’t raise her, or raised her poorly.】 【How do parents like that deserve such an amazing daughter?】 【I say cut them off. The queen should reign alone!】 The host turned the microphone to me at the perfect moment, his face a mask of concern and curiosity. “Sue, do you have anything to say in response to what Nora has shared? We all want to know what really happened.” I was at a loss for words. I looked at my daughter, who wore an expression that said, “I’m just telling the truth,” and couldn’t help but ask her, “Have you really forgotten?” Nora blinked, confused. “Forgotten what?” “The host is asking if there’s some hidden story,” I said, taking the microphone but ignoring his question. I looked directly at my daughter. “There’s no hidden story. I just want to help you remember why we told you to get out.” I paused, then delivered the first piece of evidence. “Do you remember the birthday present you gave me when you were eight? A bright green snake you said I could wear as a necklace. A pair of shiny cockroaches you said could be dried and worn as earrings. And a croaking toad you claimed was a singing music box.” A collective gasp went through the studio. Nora’s mouth hung slightly open as she tried to recall the memory. “When we told you to get out,” I continued, “we meant for you to get out with those ‘presents’ and not bring them in the house.” “And as for us telling you to ‘fend for yourself’… that was because you broke a mercury thermometer and were holding the mercury in your mouth like it was candy. When we caught you, you argued that you’d read in a book that mercury was a heavy metal, so it would keep you full. When we scolded you, you got upset and threatened to starve yourself. That’s when we said, ‘If you’re so capable, go fend for yourself.’” The atmosphere in the studio started to shift. I could hear suppressed laughter from the audience. “And then there was the time you said you missed your grandpa, so you went to dig up his grave in the middle of the night…” Before I could finish, Nora’s face turned bright red. “Mom!” So she did feel embarrassed. I ignored her and continued into the microphone. “We understood that you missed your grandpa. But you dug up the wrong grave. It was our neighbor, Mr. Henderson’s. When we found you, you were digging alongside the family dog. And you were digging faster than he was.”

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After my boyfriend stormed out over the litter box (again), I didn’t chase him. This time, I just stood there— —until text flooded my vision: 【He’s waiting right outside!】 【Open the door and he’ll cook for you】 【He’s insecure! Just say ‘I love you’ and he’d die for you】 【Hurry! He’s digging nails into his palms!】 My hand hovered over the knob… Then my phone buzzed: “We’re done. Be gone when I’m back.” “Okay.” 1 I put my phone down, wiped my tears, and pulled out my suitcase. 【Oh, he’s just being difficult. He’s dying to come back and make up with her, but he’s too proud to admit it. Is this what insecurity looks like?】 【Yeah, his parents divorced when he was a kid and they both remarried right away. He was basically abandoned. Chloe knows all this! Why is she actually packing? Honey, don’t! He loves you so much, how will he live without you?】 【Don’t listen to a word he says when he’s angry! If you just open the door, he’ll come back wagging his tail. Don’t really pack your things! What will he do if you leave?】 【There is no one on this earth who loves you more than him! You were together through high school, all four years of college, you were supposed to get married! Don’t do this, you’re his whole world! What about him? What about Jellybean?】 I ignored the floating text and started packing. I’d lost count of how many times this had happened. Every time he broke up with me, he told me to move out. And every time we made up, he’d cling to me, all sweet and clingy, and tell me he didn’t mean it. I remember the first time Chad told me to leave. I was terrified. We were supposed to go on a trip the next day, so I’d stayed late at work to make sure everything was handled. I wanted to be able to relax and enjoy our vacation. But to Chad, my working late meant I didn’t care about our trip. He wouldn’t listen to my explanations. He didn’t care that I’d gotten home at eleven and hadn’t even had dinner. He just shoved my suitcase at me and slammed the door in my face. No matter how much I begged and explained through the door, he wouldn’t open it. I stood outside in the hallway all night, starving. It was the middle of winter, and he’d pushed me out without even letting me grab a coat. I shivered uncontrollably, but he never once came out to check on me. If my neighbor hadn’t found me passed out from low blood sugar and pounded on the door until Chad finally came out, who knows what would have happened. That time, Chad had been scared to death. When I woke up, he swore up and down, promising me, “Chloe, I love you so much.” “If I say things when I’m angry, you can’t take them seriously, okay?” “You know how insecure I am. If you just give me that sense of security, I’ll be fine.” And I believed him. So, every time we fought after that and he told me to leave, I knew he was just saying it out of anger. I knew he was difficult. I knew he was insecure. I made my entire life revolve around him. But now… I was just so tired. Eight years. Eight years of me always being the one to give in, of being kicked out every time he got mad. I was done. 2 It didn’t take long to pack. I made myself a cup of instant noodles. I felt a tug at my ankle and looked down. It was Jellybean. The moment I knelt, she jumped into my lap. Jellybean originally belonged to one of Chad’s junior classmates in college. The girl had gotten bored of her after two weeks. Chad brought her home, and she became my responsibility. Cleaning the litter box, taking her for baths, shots, deworming—it was all on me. And if I was ever late with any of it, Chad would give me a cold look and say, “I only brought her home because you said you liked her. When did you become so irresponsible, Chloe?” This time, the fight had started because I hadn’t changed her litter box and the apartment smelled. As I ate my noodles, I scrolled through my phone and saw that his old classmate had posted on her feed. 【QAQ, my poor, homeless senior. I guess I can take you in for a bit. (๑>ᴗ<๑)】 The picture was a half-shot of Chad in a bar, holding a drink. 【Poor guy. See? He’s drunk, but his eyes are glued to his phone. He’s still thinking about her!!】 【Don’t be mad, Chloe! He’s just trying to make you jealous by having her over. He doesn’t like her at all, she’s just a pawn!】 【Yeah, look at him, he’s about to burn a hole through his phone with his eyes. Just send him one text and he’ll come running back like a puppy.】 Before I could finish reading, a video came through from an unknown number. In the video, Chad was leaning against a woman’s chest, his eyes closed. “Chad,” the woman cooed, “if you spend the night at my place, do you think your girlfriend will finally leave you?” Chad scoffed. “Give her a couple of days. She’ll be begging me to come back.” The woman giggled. “So she’s a clingy one, huh? The kind you can’t get rid of?” I held my breath. And then I heard Chad’s low murmur. “Yeah.” The video ended there. I stared at the noodles in front of me, but I couldn’t take another bite. So that’s what it was. All my concessions, all my attempts to understand him… to him, and to everyone else, I was just a pathetic girl who would come running whenever he called. A doormat. I looked at the noodles, now cold, a layer of grease congealing on the surface. It was disgusting. 3 Eight years of my life, and all that was left was one small suitcase. “Meow, meow…” Jellybean seemed to sense something was wrong and latched onto my pant leg. I hesitated. But I had been the one taking care of her for the past year. Chad clearly didn’t want the responsibility. I scooped her up and took her with me. It was two in the morning by the time I checked into a hotel. The next morning, I was already browsing apartment listings. Within an hour, I found a small studio near my office. It was tiny, but it would cut my commute by almost an hour each way. When we first graduated, we lived somewhere else. But Chad was a heavy sleeper. I could never wake him up in the morning, and he’d been reprimanded at work twice for being late. I was the one who suggested we move closer to his office. Back then, I thought love could conquer all. An extra hour on the train didn’t matter, as long as it made his life easier. Later, when his startup took off, he bought a condo near his new office. We’d been there for three years. Now, all that time I spent commuting would be mine again. I moved into the new apartment that day. “Chloe, you’re still here? You’re going to miss the last train,” a coworker reminded me as I was working late. I shook my head, my eyes on the unfinished report. “It’s okay, I moved closer to the office. I’ll go home when I’m done.” “Wow! Chloe, you finally did it?” My coworkers had been telling me for ages that wasting two hours a day on a train was insane. After work, a few of us went out for a late dinner to celebrate my new place. I got home exhausted and fell straight into bed. The next day, just as I was leaving the office, I got a text from one of Chad’s friends. 【Hey, did you and Chad have a fight? He’s at my place, completely wasted.】 I hesitated for a moment. 【We didn’t fight. We broke up.】 He immediately replied with a voice message, his tone lecturing. 4 “Come on, Chloe, that’s not fair. You know what he’s like. How many times has he said you were breaking up? How many times did he actually mean it?” “You used to be so understanding. Why are you being so stubborn this time?” “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you come over now and say a few nice words, he’ll probably cool down and go home with you.” “But if you don’t, and he actually decides to end things for real, you’ll be the one crying.” It was laughable. After all these years, even his friends were convinced I couldn’t live without him. Before I could reply, he hung up. Then, he sent an address. I blocked the number. They were Chad’s friends, not mine. Now that we were broken up, there was no reason to keep them in my life. 【Is she really angry? He was just giving her an out by having his friend call. Couples shouldn’t stay mad at each other.】 【Yeah, that’s just his personality. He’s difficult, but he’s crazy about her. He even gave up his dream college to go to the same one as her. She’s just upset right now. He’s already thrown up three times, he’s going to hurt himself.】 【Is it just me, or is he being a total drama queen? Why is it that when a girl acts like this, she’s being dramatic, but when a guy does it, he’s just ‘difficult’ and ‘insecure’? It’s just as annoying.】 I saw that last comment and couldn’t help but smile bitterly. They were right. Chad was a drama queen. It wasn’t so bad when we first started dating. But after he gave up his dream school for me, he became more and more demanding. Every time we fought, if I didn’t immediately grovel, one of his friends would call. They’d remind me of his great sacrifice, and ask me how I could be so cruel. How could I live with myself? But when we were applying to college, I told him over and over that I was fine with a long-distance relationship. That no matter how far apart we were, he would always be the most important person in my life. But he insisted on applying to the same school as me. When I saw his application, I asked him again and again if he was sure, if this was what he really wanted. He didn’t say a word. The day after the application deadline, he got blackout drunk. His friends called me, accusing me of forcing him to go to the same school as me. That’s when I found out that our university hadn’t been his first choice. But by then, I was so moved by his gesture. I rushed over and took him home. But for years after that, every time he was unhappy, every time he acted out, his friends would blame me. They’d list all the things he’d given up for me. After a while, I got tired of hearing it. It was like I was forever indebted to him for that one decision. “Chloe, come on, let’s go eat.” 5 It was a late night at the office, and everyone was too tired to order in. So, we decided to go out for a late dinner. In the past, I rarely joined them because I lived so far away and was afraid of missing the last train. But now that they knew I lived nearby, they insisted I come. I figured I had nothing better to do, so I went along. There were five or six of us. We went to a popular restaurant, and then to a bar. As soon as we sat down, I noticed a noisy group at the table next to ours. I glanced over and saw Chad and his friends. And of course, his little shadow, Lila, was there too. “Chad, you lost! Kiss someone in the bar for three minutes! Go, go, go!” They were playing truth or dare. My eyes met Chad’s for a split second. I looked away without a second thought. Chad seemed to pause for a moment before he drawled, “Fine.” A cheer went up from his table. “Wow, Chad’s actually playing along tonight! Who are you gonna pick? Hahahaha!” Someone teased, “We’re all guys here. He’s obviously gonna pick Lila. Unless you want a turn?!” “Oh, you guys!” Lila said, covering her face shyly. “Come on, Chad, you lost! Pick someone now, or I’m gonna have to volunteer!” “Hahahahaha, Chad, your virtue is at stake!” The noise from their table was getting louder. And the text in my vision started up again. 【What is she doing? Can’t she see he’s looking at her? He doesn’t want to kiss anyone else, he’s only thinking about her!】 【Yeah, he still hasn’t been home, he has no idea she’s moved out. He’s waiting for her to give in. Don’t be stubborn now! What if he actually kisses the other girl?】 【He’s not saying anything because he’s waiting for her to react. If she just looks at him, she doesn’t even have to go over, just one look, and he’ll come over and kiss her. He won’t even look at anyone else.】 I took a sip of my drink. As I put the glass down, it slipped and tipped over. “Oh, Chloe, are you okay? It spilled!” a coworker said, flagging down a waiter. Our commotion caught the attention of the next table. The noisy group fell silent. Several people looked over at me. Lila stood up and marched over to our table. 6 “Chloe, he’s just out with his friends. Do you have to be so clingy?” My coworkers, who had never met Chad or Lila, looked at me, confused. “Chloe, do you know her?” I smiled. “Nope.” Lila’s face fell. “You…” “Lila, get back here!” Chad’s cold voice cut across the room. Lila shot me a disdainful look, huffed, and stomped back to her table. It was quiet for a moment. Then, Chad’s voice rang out again. “What? Are we not playing anymore?” That seemed to snap everyone out of their trance. “Hahaha, forget it, Chad, just take a shot…” “Holy shit!” “No way!” “Oh, Chad, you’re actually doing it…” I heard a series of gasps and exclamations from the next table and couldn't help but look over. Chad had one hand on the back of Lila’s head, and they were kissing. At first, it might have just been for show. But then Lila wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer. And Chad, he seemed to get into it. When they finally broke apart, a thin string of saliva connected their lips. My face went pale. I looked away. Even though we were broken up, even though I had told myself to move on, seeing him with Lila still felt like a punch to the gut. Like a hand squeezing my heart. It was a sharp, piercing pain. I excused myself, saying I wasn’t feeling well, and left the bar. I know it was pathetic. I know I was a coward. But seeing that, all I wanted to do was run. I guess my withdrawal period wasn’t over yet. But I knew, with absolute certainty, that Chad and I were done for good. They say it only takes seven days to break a habit. I would get through this.

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