Category: English

1 I remarried Alexander, but this time, I wasn’t the paranoid wreck I used to be. I stopped checking his collars or his phone, and I no longer cared if there were other women. Our relationship felt like it did at the beginning, as if the years of bitterness had been a bad dream. The truth is, I’d been battling ghosts since our first year. The first time, I found lace panties in his car. I stormed into his office, forgetting the stove was on—our first house burned down. The second time, my PI sent photos of him with another woman. The elevator I was in stalled, trapping me for hours. The third time, I crashed a wedding to catch him, and a chandelier fell, leaving me bloodied. So this time, even when Alexander didn’t come home all night, I didn’t ask. Until he crashed his car. They pulled him from the wreck with a naked woman. Numbly, I packed his bag, my hands moving over things that smelled like someone else. In the hospital, Alexander jumped up, shielding the woman. “You’ve finally got what you wanted, Sophia? Take it out on me—leave her alone!” A tired smile spread across my face. I didn’t need to see her face. I recognized the bracelet on her wrist—the one I gave my best friend, Ava, last month. Years of tension snapped, replaced by hollow relief. “Alexander,” I said, my voice steady. “Let’s get a divorce.” … He let out a short, incredulous laugh, as if I’d just told the funniest joke in the world. “A divorce? So you can come crawling back to me in a few months, half-dead and begging to get back together?” I shook my head, the smile never leaving my lips. “There won’t be a next time.” The familiar words, but a different answer. It was a distorted echo of a conversation that had already destroyed me once. It had been just a year into our first marriage when the cracks started to show. I found clues of his infidelity everywhere, hidden in the corners of our life. Little things, like a pair of lacy underwear that wasn’t mine. Big things, like an invitation to a wedding he was attending that I knew nothing about. But it was as if fate itself was playing a cruel joke on me. No matter how much I acted like a madwoman, scrutinizing every woman who got close to him, I could never figure out who she was. Instead, every time I got close to the truth, a freak accident would throw me off course, leaving me broken and bleeding. The last time, with the chandelier, it wasn’t just my body that was shattered. The impact tore through my abdomen. When I woke up in the hospital, there was a hollow ache deep inside me. Our baby, the one who never had a chance to see the world, was gone. Back then, I had been just like this. Numb. I’d asked Alexander for a divorce then, too. But he had fallen to his knees, begging, swearing he was only at that wedding for business. His brand-new tuxedo and the unfamiliar wedding band on his finger told a different story. In a daze, I’d snatched a fruit knife from the bedside table. I held it to my own throat, my hands shaking, and told him to let me go. He must have loved me then, because in the end, terrified, he agreed. I thought leaving him would be the cure. But I withered. The depression was a physical weight, pressing down on me day after day until I could barely breathe. My own parents were afraid to get too close, scared of saying the wrong thing. The only one who broke through was Ava. My Ava, who I’d grown up with, who felt more like a sister than a friend. She was the one who threw herself in front of me, her own hands grabbing the blade I was holding to my wrist. We clung to each other, our blood mixing, our tears indistinguishable. But I knew she couldn’t save me. She had her own life, a boyfriend she was crazy about. I couldn’t drag her down into my darkness. Maybe it’s better this way. The thought pinned me to the spot as the truck barreled towards me. I just stood there, waiting. Then, out of nowhere, Alexander was there, shoving me out of the way, his body taking the brunt of the impact. In that split second, I realized two things: I didn’t want to die. And God help me, I still loved him. He lay in a pool of his own blood, his eyes losing focus, but his arms were wrapped around me so tightly it felt like he would never let go, not even in death. While he was fighting for his life in the ICU, I knelt by his bed and prayed. Just let him live. I won’t ask for anything else. I don’t care about anything else. I thought that if I just stopped looking, stopped questioning, our fractured love and our broken marriage could heal. We could go back to the way we were. But then the police officer handed me a bag of his personal effects from the crash. Inside, nestled among the contents of his wallet, was a box of condoms and a pair of familiar lacy panties. That fragile hope shattered into a million pieces. My stunned silence must have irritated Alexander. He shielded the woman on the bed even more fiercely. “What are you planning now, Sophia? Whatever happened, it’s not her fault—” As he spoke, their intertwined hands were like a dagger twisting in my gut. It was the final straw. The carefully constructed wall of my composure crumbled. Tears streamed down my face as I heard my own hoarse voice. “Ava,” I whispered. “You once told me you wished me a lifetime of happiness. Now… I’m giving that wish back to you.” I paused, their frozen, shocked figures blurring through my tears. “I’m out. I’ll let you two be happy together.” Before the words had even fully left my mouth, a sharp slap cracked across my face. My head snapped to the side, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Alexander’s voice trembled with a rage I knew all too well. “What the hell are you talking about, Sophia? What does Ava have to do with any of this?” Ava… The way he said her name. So familiar. So intimate. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I should have known. I should have seen it all along, but I had been so determined to lie to myself. The two of them, who used to bicker like cats and dogs, had somehow grown closer. “If you ever hurt Sophia, I swear I’ll never forgive you!” she used to say. “I’ll love her for the rest of my life. I’ll give her a home. You won’t be the one to take her from me!” he’d shoot back. Somehow, over time, that bickering had turned into a secret language, an unspoken understanding. I remembered a trip we all took. He’d ordered a table full of her favorite spicy dishes, completely forgetting they set my mouth on fire. I remembered spending weeks picking out the perfect birthday gift for her. The day after I gave her the bracelet, I saw her wrapping a scarf she’d knitted herself around Alexander’s neck. When I’d questioned them, they’d both laughed it off. “This is just what people who care about you do—they learn to get along!” What a pathetic lie. And like a fool, I believed it. Now, I pressed a hand to my throbbing cheek, fighting back a fresh wave of tears as I met Alexander’s dark, unreadable eyes. “Whether it’s true or not, it doesn’t matter anymore. We should have ended this a long time ago.” As if my words were a physical blow, the woman on the bed finally broke. Ava stumbled out from under the sheets, her face a mess of tear-streaked mascara. “Sophia, I… I don’t know what came over me,” she sobbed, scrambling off the bed and grabbing at my clothes. “I was wrong, I’m so sorry! Please, forgive me! You can hit me, scream at me, anything…” Her frantic fingers clutched at my shirt, and her hand brushed against the faint, raised line on my abdomen—the scar from the miscarriage. A jolt of revulsion shot through me. I instinctively pushed her away. The next thing I knew, a powerful force kicked me from behind. I stumbled backward, crashing into an IV stand. One of its cold metal hooks dug deep into my back. A searing pain ripped through me, and I felt a warm wetness spreading through the fabric of my white blouse. A familiar, terrifying cramp seized my belly. Alexander’s lips were a thin, hard line, but he didn’t hesitate to scoop a crying Ava into his arms. The cramping intensified, a sickening echo of the past. The fear of losing another child, a fear I thought I had buried, clawed its way up my throat. My hands trembling, I fumbled in my purse and pulled out the folded-up pregnancy report. I held it out to him. “I’m pregnant,” I gasped, the pain making it hard to breathe. “Call a doctor… please…” For a split second, he took a step toward me. But then Ava whimpered in his arms, a small, fragile sound. His expression hardened, his eyes filling with a cold annoyance. “Stop with the drama, Sophia,” he spat. “After the miscarriage, the doctors said it would be nearly impossible for you to get pregnant again!” He looked down at me, his face a mask of contempt. “Maybe this will teach you a lesson. Don’t you ever lay a hand on Ava again.” He swatted my hand away. The white paper fluttered to the floor, landing in a growing pool of my own blood. My heart didn’t just break. It plummeted into a black, bottomless abyss. Alexander turned his back on me, carried Ava out of the room, and slammed the door shut. I heard the distinct click of the lock. He left me there, bleeding on the cold tile. He ignored my last, desperate plea for help. And in the moment I felt the last flicker of life inside me go out, I think a part of my own soul died with it. When I woke up again, the doctor was looking at me with an expression of pity and regret. “Ms. Albright,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry. We couldn’t save the baby.” A void opened up inside me. I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears blurred my vision. My hands shook as I dialed my father’s number. “Dad,” I choked out. “It’s Alex and Ava. They’re together. I want a divorce.” The voice on the other end of the line sounded like it had aged twenty years in a single second. “Okay, honey. Don’t you worry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll find someone else to help with your mother’s care. Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself for this family.” His gentleness, his unwavering support, was the final undoing. I collapsed into the phone, sobbing uncontrollably. My father came and took me from the hospital. We buried the ashes, the tiny, fragmented remains of my child. I ignored the flood of texts from Alexander and Ava, both filled with pathetic excuses and explanations. The betrayals had hollowed me out. I was exhausted, body and soul. All I wanted was for it to be over. I walked into Alexander’s office building, the divorce papers clutched in my hand, ready to end it all. But as I reached for the door to his office, the voices from inside froze me to the spot. Through the crack in the door, I saw Ava, her eyes swimming with tears. “Yes, I love you! But watching you send people to hurt Sophia, time and time again, just to protect me… you even caused her miscarriage! I can’t do this anymore! It was wrong, and we have to stop!” Her words hit me like a physical blow. My ears started to ring. Send people to hurt Sophia? My mind went blank. Ava’s voice cracked as she continued, tears streaming down her face. “My parents abandoned me, but Sophia took me in. She shared everything she had with me. How can I stand by and watch her suffer like this?” For a fleeting, insane moment, I prayed Alexander would deny it. But the truth, the one I had refused to see, came from his own lips. He cornered Ava against the wall, his voice a low, frustrated growl. “You can’t stand to see her suffer? Do you think I can stand to see you suffer? That time I had someone… mess with her… all I could think about was the scar you got on your hand trying to pull her away from that falling light fixture!” His words dragged me back into the nightmare of my past. While I was lying in a hospital bed, physically and emotionally shattered after losing our first child, they were living a lie. Ava, supposedly sick with a high fever from the shock. Alexander, supposedly forced to stay at that wedding for appearances. In reality, they had put on the perfectly tailored wedding clothes they’d prepared and celebrated their union, surrounded by the blessings of oblivious guests. In that instant, every sleepless night I’d spent blaming myself, telling myself I was too sensitive, too paranoid… it all became a sick, twisted joke. Alexander’s voice inside the office softened, filled with a twisted sort of passion, each word a new cut on my heart. “What do you want me to do? I love you, Ava, I love you too! If you’re afraid she’ll find out, we just have to be more careful. We’ll stop her before she can. We’ve been doing it for years, haven’t we?” Ava’s resolve crumbled. With a sob, she threw herself into his arms. They held each other in a desperate, frantic embrace, as if trying to merge into one being. My face was a mask of ice. I pushed the door open. They sprang apart, guilt and panic flashing across their faces. “Sophia!” Ava stammered, her face white as a sheet. “I… I just tripped. Alex was just helping me up. Please, don’t be angry. I was just about to quit my job.” She looked at me with those wide, pleading eyes, the same eyes that had once looked at me with so much love and trust. I remembered bringing her to Alexander’s company, telling him to look after her, making her his personal assistant so she wouldn’t be alone. She had hugged me so tightly that day, her eyes shining. “Sophia! We’re going to be best friends forever! Don’t worry, I’ll keep a close eye on your husband for you!” I shifted my gaze to Alexander. I could see the rigid control in his jaw, the forced calm in his eyes. “What happened last time… I was impulsive,” he said, his voice low and placating. “You can punish me however you want. And I’ve already arranged for a better medical team for your mother.” He was trying to smooth it all over, as if these monumental betrayals were just minor bumps in the road. “Okay? I promise, there won’t be any other women. We can go back to how things were. Please?” I couldn’t understand it. How could they stand there and lie to my face, so calmly, after everything they’d done? To protect their sordid affair, they had systematically destroyed my life. The home filled with our memories, reduced to ash. Me, trapped in an elevator, gasping for air. Me, bleeding out on a ballroom floor, my baby gone… They had called it all a series of unfortunate accidents. And now, they expected me to believe their lies again, to let them continue their sick game while I played the fool. A wave of nausea washed over me as Alexander reached out to touch my face. The revulsion was so strong, so visceral, I couldn’t stop myself. I flinched back, slapping his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” His face darkened, the mask of contrition falling away to reveal pure, cold anger. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m dirty?” I took another step back, my stomach churning. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “What do you think? You arranged ‘accidents’ to hurt me, to stop me from finding out about you and Ava. And you expect me to just play dumb? Alexander, Ava… you both make me sick.” The words hung in the air. The office plunged into a dead silence. Ava’s face was chalk-white. She started to sob, moving as if to fall to her knees and beg. As she stumbled, she knocked over a picture frame on the desk—an ultrasound photo of our first child. Glass shattered across the floor. Instinctively, Alexander pulled Ava into his arms, shielding her from the flying shards. I lunged for the frame, but it was too late. I fell to my knees, my hands landing in the pile of broken glass. But I didn’t care about the pain. My eyes were fixed on the photo. There, marring the image of our unborn child, was the faint, greasy imprint of a hand. An intimate touch that wasn’t mine. My sanity finally, irrevocably, shattered. I clutched the broken frame to my chest, heedless of the glass cutting into my skin. A raw, guttural sob tore from my throat as I glared at them. “Are you that depraved? I won’t let you get away with this! I’ll tell everyone what you are! I’ll make sure the whole world knows how disgusting you both are!” The flicker of guilt in Alexander’s eyes vanished, replaced by pure fury. “You wouldn’t dare.” But the weight of it all, the betrayals, the loss, the lies—it was too much. I was choking on my own rage. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ll do it right now—” I pulled out my phone, opening the camera and pointing it at them, huddled together in their guilt. But before I could press the button, he lunged forward and knocked the phone from my hand. The next second, he was on his own phone, his voice cold and hard as steel. “Leak every intimate photo we have of Sophia. I want the whole world to see what kind of slut she is.” I stared at him, my mind reeling. It was like seeing the man I had shared my bed with for the first time. Ava looked on, a flicker of horror in her eyes, but she said nothing. She just lowered her head, a silent accomplice. A moment later, my phone, lying on the floor, began to buzz uncontrollably. It was my father. I scrambled to pick it up, my hands bleeding. “I… I must be cursed,” he wailed, his voice cracking with despair. “I’ve been a professor for decades, and this is what I raised? A disgrace! I’d rather be dead!” Then, a sudden, sickening thud on the other end of the line. The phone went silent, replaced by a murmur of panicked voices. “Professor Albright, the one everyone respects, his own daughter’s scandal gave him a heart attack!” “What a tragedy for the family…” “Someone give him space! Oh god, I think he’s…” A notification popped up on my phone’s shattered screen. It was from my mother’s hospital. [We regret to inform you that your mother suffered a stress-induced acute episode. Resuscitation was unsuccessful.] All those nights. All those moments of intimacy with Alexander. They had just become the blades that delivered the final, fatal wounds. The screen lit up with a torrent of hateful messages from strangers, but I couldn’t see them. I was hollowed out, a ghost in my own body, as I sank to the floor. The last two people who mattered in my world were gone. I cried until I had no tears left, my throat raw. I looked up and met Alexander’s cold, triumphant gaze. “What’s wrong?” he sneered. “Still want to cause a scene? I can make it all go away. Just promise you’ll behave.” A single, hot tear fell onto the back of my hand. “It’s too late, Alexander,” I whispered. I pushed myself to my feet, my body trembling with a cold that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. He frowned, still keeping Ava tucked securely behind him. “It’s just a few online comments. A little lesson to teach you not to cross me. Why are you being so dramatic?” I turned my back on him and looked at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the city. I didn’t even spare him a final glance. My voice was a bare whisper. “Mom, Dad… my baby… I’m coming to be with you.” The next second, I threw the broken picture frame with all my might. It crashed against the window, spiderwebbing the thick glass. And as it shattered, I ignored the desperate, horrified screams behind me. I took one last step forward and plunged into the open air.

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A year ago, my roommate ended her relationship. I used to watch how that guy treated her, soaking up his every act of devotion with a quiet, burning envy. Eventually, we found our way to each other. He was gentle, orchestrating my life with a seamless precision, yet there was always this invisible wall of cold detachment between us. Half a year of this lukewarm existence dragged on before something in him finally shifted. I was overjoyed, foolishly believing my absolute sincerity had finally melted the ice around his heart. Until the holidays, when he unexpectedly ran into her. Under the explosive light of winter fireworks, the truth hit me hard. He had never really let her go. 1 The reason I got together with Sebastian was agonizingly simple. I loved the way he cared for my roommate. It was a quiet, unassuming warmth. Back in our dorm days, I had a front-row seat to their long-term romance, standing on the sidelines like a voyeur, envying her and everything she possessed. Even her name. Hunter. It didn’t sound like a girl’s name, but it held her father’s greatest wish for her. To be the hunter, clear in her direction, never having to bend her will or alter her course for anyone else. And my name was Grace. The phrase my father drilled into my head the most was to be graceful, sweet, and compliant. What I mastered was the art of keeping people happy. So when I saw Hunter throwing a fit outside our dorm because Sebastian was running late, my chest tightened. Sebastian just brushed her forehead affectionately and pulled a pastry box out of his bag like a magician. It was a viral croissant from a Soho bakery that required a five-hour wait in line. Hunter took exactly one bite and handed it back to him without missing a beat. “I hate hazelnut. Remember what I like and don’t like.” Sebastian just smiled and said he would. I was stunned, and then a wave of bitter sourness washed over me. Because if it had been me, I would have pretended to love it. In my world, pleasing someone meant being loved, or at least being loved a little more. But Hunter didn’t need to play that game. She just needed to exist as herself, and someone would love her unconditionally. Sebastian and Hunter broke up right around graduation. It rained heavily that day, and he stood outside our building in the downpour for a very long time. A year later, I ran into him at a dinner party. He was genuinely surprised to hear I had also graduated from Columbia. It made sense. Back then, his eyes were entirely filled with Hunter. He probably never even registered my existence. I was just that small, that invisible. So when he actively started pursuing me later, I hesitated. I knew there was a space in his heart that could never be overwritten. But in the end, I nodded. I just wanted to know what it felt like to be treated that way. To feel the weight of being firmly chosen, to be indulged, to have my preferences memorized, to be treated like the center of someone’s universe. All those things I had spied on from the dorm window. I wanted a taste. Once we got together, Sebastian treated me well. Impeccably well. Whenever my cramps flared up, a hot water bottle and ginger tea were already waiting. If I worked late, he was parked downstairs, never complaining. Flowers on holidays, thoughtful gifts on birthdays. He covered every base. But once I actually had him, something felt incredibly off. He rarely showed any raw emotion. He spent most of his time wrapped in silence, lost in thoughts he refused to share with me. We treated each other with the polite courtesy of esteemed guests rather than lovers. The old Sebastian was so vibrant. He used to get nervous when Hunter was mad. He would laugh and coax her when she said the wrong thing. He would get visibly upset if she stayed out too late. I used to hear him through the dorm walls, eagerly telling Hunter what he ate for lunch and what funny thing he saw on the street. With me, he was perpetually mild, proper, and lukewarm. A year into our relationship, he had never once volunteered a random detail about his day. It felt like he was fulfilling the duties of a boyfriend rather than actually loving a person. Sometimes, deep in the night, I would find him sitting out on the balcony. The glowing ember of his cigarette illuminated his face in the dark, his expression unreadable. He was the youngest Managing Director in his region, a man who strategized multimillion-dollar deals without breaking a sweat. What could possibly make him look so profoundly lost? Only Hunter, I figured. When the ache got too heavy, I would ask myself what I even liked about him. The answer terrified me. Maybe I didn’t actually like him at all. Maybe I just wanted a lover who wouldn’t push me away. Someone who would let me be myself and still love me fiercely, just the way he had loved Hunter. But Sebastian never gave me that chance. One day, I tested the waters. “What kind of girls do you actually like?” He looked at me and said he liked girls like me. Quiet. Well-behaved. He hated high-maintenance girls. He practically listed every trait that was the exact opposite of Hunter. A tiny fracture split open in my chest right then. Because I had seen what he looked like when he was truly in love. It wasn’t this. It wasn’t built on a foundation of convenience and peace. But I swallowed the lie anyway. I wanted to make a bet with myself. I boxed up all my messy emotions and played the role of the perfect, understanding girlfriend to the absolute extreme. I wanted to know if being considerate enough, if being the anti-Hunter, could buy the devotion I was starving for. And if it did, would I even be happy? We drifted along in this painless, numb state for another six months. One weekend, I made plans with a friend to catch a movie. We picked a theater exactly halfway between us so it was fair. Right before I left the house, my phone buzzed. “Grace, there’s a new IMAX theater doing a promo nearby. The tickets are super cheap!” I opened the link. It was a five-minute walk from her apartment, but over an hour’s drive for me. Her text sounded so excited, though. I didn’t want to ruin the mood. When I finally arrived, I texted asking where she was. “Still on the road. Traffic is a nightmare.” I stood there for fifteen minutes. My phone buzzed again. “The weather app says it’s going to pour. Should we just skip it?” I stared at the glowing letters. I slowly backspaced my drafted reply of “I’m already here.” “Yeah, let’s just do it another time. It’s a pretty far drive for me anyway.” She replied instantly. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Drinks are on me next time!” I texted back a smiley face. Standing out on the pavement in front of the theater, I suddenly felt the urge to laugh at myself. I had done it again. I swallowed the words someone else was too coward to say, handed them a perfect out, and absorbed all the inconvenience they refused to carry. It was as natural as breathing. It was a pathetic instinct. I texted Sebastian. “Where are you?” He replied quickly. “Meeting with a supplier. How’s the movie?” I locked my screen. The thing adults are best at is keeping their mouths shut at the worst possible times. I didn’t go home. I wandered the streets aimlessly until I walked past an exotic pet shop. In the glass display sat a lizard. It was ash-brown, its scales looking like a cracked, dry riverbed. It lay completely motionless on a piece of driftwood. While the other animals scrambled around, it just sat there in absolute stillness. I stared at it for a long time. It didn’t exist to please anyone. You get close, it doesn’t flinch. You ignore it, it doesn’t beg for attention. Its emotions belong entirely to itself. It requires no comforting, and it certainly won’t comfort you. I wanted it. Not because it would provide emotional support, but precisely because it wouldn’t. There would be no expectations between us. No draining demands. I couldn’t achieve that kind of simplicity, but this creature could do it for me. “I’ll take him.” The shop owner blinked in surprise. “A lot of girls think they’re cool but get scared of them once they’re home. This is a living thing, you know. You have to commit.” “I’m not scared,” I said. When Sebastian came home and saw “Duke” in the living room, his expression was incredibly hard to read. He leaned close to the glass tank, staring at the lizard perched on the wood. “You bought this?” “Yeah.” “You’re not afraid of it?” “No.” He looked up at me and smiled. It was a genuinely soft smile. He reached out and lightly tapped my forehead. “You look so delicate. Who knew you were into cold-blooded reptiles. What’s his name?” “Duke.” The corner of his mouth twitched upward. It was subtle, but I caught it. “Pretty arrogant name.” “He earns it.” Sebastian nodded. He pulled out his phone and immediately ordered a premium heat mat and specialized calcium powder, stating that Duke would need them. “How do you know that?” I asked. “Did you research it?” He paused, as if weighing whether to tell the truth. “Yeah,” he finally said. “I used to have one. I gave it away.” “Why?” “Someone was scared of it.” I didn’t say a word. He didn’t elaborate either. He just pocketed his phone and looked at me. “You never answered me earlier. How was the movie?” The moment he asked, something inside me cracked. The floodgates holding back my humiliation and exhaustion just gave way. Tears spilled over my eyelashes. Sebastian actually looked startled. But he quickly masked it, stepping close to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “What’s wrong? Was the movie that bad?” I opened my mouth. I wanted to tell him I got stood up. I wanted to tell him I waited outside like an idiot for nothing. But the words that came out were… “Yeah. It was bad.” He pulled me firmly into his chest. He rested his chin on the top of my head, one hand cradling the back of my neck. His voice was a low murmur. “If it was that bad, we just won’t watch movies like that anymore.” His other hand patted my back in a slow, rhythmic motion, the way you soothe a frightened child. My mind flashed back to my childhood. Whenever I was upset, I desperately wanted my parents to hold me the way other kids were held. Instead, they would scold me, making me feel like my sadness was a burden, an emotion I hadn’t earned the right to express. The memory made me cry harder. I completely ruined the front of his shirt. By the time I pulled myself together and looked up, the fabric over his chest was soaked and severely wrinkled. I sniffled, suddenly feeling incredibly embarrassed. He glanced down at the wet patch on his chest, said absolutely nothing, and just used his thumb to wipe a stray tear off my jaw. “This shirt is designer. You’re going to have to pay for that.” My voice was thick and raspy. “I make a good salary. Send me the bill.” I immediately wired him fifteen hundred dollars from my phone. Sebastian was notoriously picky about his wardrobe. He never compromised on fabric or tailoring. Any random piece pulled from his closet was worth half my monthly rent. But the infuriating part was how effortlessly he wore it all, like those absurdly expensive clothes were custom-grown for his body. He flicked my forehead lightly. “You little brat. You used our joint Amex account to pay me back. You’re using my money to pay for my ruined shirt.” I suddenly remembered he had re-routed my primary payment method to his card the month prior. He caught my expression and let out a genuine laugh. “Do I really look that desperate for cash to you?” His smile slowly faded, replaced by a grounded sincerity. “If you’re upset and don’t want to talk about it, I’m not going to force it out of you. But I really hope you learn to let it out eventually. You can choke back your tears and swallow your voice, but whatever it is you’re keeping bottled up is rotting something inside you. And only you know what that is.” He didn’t press any further. He just softly asked, “Are you hungry? I’ll make us something.” I nodded. “I want pasta. With two fried eggs.” “Done.” His smile was breathtaking. But I never ended up eating that pasta. By the time Sebastian came out of the kitchen to get me, I was shivering on the couch, half-delirious. Getting caught in the cold rain earlier had triggered a brutal fever. When he reached out to check my forehead, I instinctively flinched away. In my past, getting sick always started with my father’s explosive lectures. He would scream about how irresponsible I was, how I was too old to not know how to take care of myself. Only after breaking me down would the pity show up in his eyes. I braced for the scolding, but it never came. Sebastian just turned around, grabbed a cool, damp towel, placed it gently over my brow, and coaxed me into swallowing some ibuprofen. Lying there, I listened to the sounds of the kitchen. The rhythmic chopping, the water boiling, the soft clatter of a wooden spoon against a pot. A long time passed before he walked in holding a bowl of soup. He sat on the edge of the mattress, stirring the broth and blowing on it to cool it down before lifting the spoon to my lips. “Open.” It was extremely late by the time he finished cooking. He could have easily ordered delivery on a corporate card, but he knew I loved his cooking, so he made it from scratch despite his exhaustion. He fed me spoon by spoon, never rushing. When the bowl was empty, he took a tissue and carefully dabbed the corner of my mouth. Then he pulled the heavy duvet up to my chin, tucking me in securely. He rested his warm palm against my forehead, his thumb stroking my hairline. “Go to sleep. I’m right here.” His voice was a deep, quiet anchor in the room. I closed my eyes, my fever-addled brain drifting into a hazy thought. Is this what love is supposed to be? I suppose so. I thought I could survive the rest of my life like this. From that night on, the air between us felt different. When the winter holidays hit, I drove Sebastian to the airport. He pinched my nose playfully at the drop-off zone. “It’s freezing out here. You really didn’t have to drive me all the way down here.” I didn’t say anything. I just threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. This was the first time we were going to be apart for an extended period. I hated letting him go, but there was a sick, secret thrill to it. I wanted to see if the distance would make him miss me. I wanted to see if he would panic, if he would finally be the one reaching out first. I was dead wrong. The moment his flight landed, he basically dropped off the face of the earth. I forced myself not to text him the first day. Around midnight, I got a generic “I’m home” text. After that, absolute radio silence. During my family’s holiday dinner, I stared blankly at my phone, waiting for his name to pop up on the screen. The house was packed with relatives. At the dinner table, my dad started recounting stories from my childhood, bragging to the aunts and uncles about how docile, obedient, and completely hassle-free I had always been. Then he looked at me and sighed. “But look at her now.” A suffocating wave of panic gripped my throat. I excused myself to my childhood bedroom and made the very first rebellious decision of my entire existence. At 2 AM, I booked the earliest flight upstate to his hometown. I packed a massive duffel bag full of specialty foods from my city, desperate to share them with him. During the three-hour flight, the window showed nothing but the pitch-black sky and my own tired reflection in the glass. My hair was a mess, but the thought of seeing Sebastian’s face ignited a warm, buzzing energy in my chest. The world was massive, but right now, I only wanted him. By 9 AM, I was standing outside his upscale apartment complex. My heart fluttering, I typed out a message. “I’m downstairs.” Nothing. I hesitated, wondering if I should call him. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement on a wooden bench near the courtyard entrance. Sebastian was sitting there. Hunter’s head was resting heavily on his shoulder. She looked like she was crying, her shoulders shaking in small, violent tremors. Sebastian had his arm wrapped securely around her. His other hand was gently stroking her hair. Neither of them spoke. They just sat there, glued together in the cold morning air. I stood behind the thick trunk of an oak tree, the winter chill sinking straight into my marrow. My phone vibrated in my palm. A text from Sebastian. “I’m not home right now.” I looked up. His hand was still firmly pressed against the small of Hunter’s back. He hadn’t let go for a single second. And he definitely hadn’t noticed me. I turned around and walked away in absolute silence. I knew Sebastian had just been sentenced to death in my heart, but the sheer logic of it didn’t stop the excruciating pain. I have zero memory of how I bought the return ticket or boarded the train back into the city. I only remember my hands and feet feeling like blocks of ice, my nose stinging from the bitter wind. On the train, an elderly woman sitting next to me noticed the bulging duffel bag in my lap. She smiled warmly. “Sweetheart, did your boyfriend buy you all those treats? He must really love you.” I nodded slowly. “Yeah. He really does.” The scenery whipped past the window like a broken film reel. The gray northern sky, the skeletal trees, the patches of dirty snow on distant rooftops. Inside the train, the atmosphere was loud and cheerful. It was the holidays, after all. People were glowing with joy. I sat glued to the window, absorbing the desolate winter outside while drowning in the noise inside. I suddenly wanted to scream and cry until my throat gave out. The universe is so endlessly vast, and I am so pathetically small. The world was spinning perfectly on its axis, completely unaffected by the fact that my entire life had just collapsed. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to him. “Sebastian, I miss you so much.” I missed him like I was dying of thirst. I knew I should be screaming in rage, but my heart was still begging for him. I despised myself for it. He didn’t call until much later that evening. I answered, and his voice flowed through the speaker, smooth and gentle as always. “Where are you right now?” I sniffled. Crying for hours had wrecked my vocal cords. “At home.” I paused, clutching the phone. “I was just messing with you this morning. I never left the apartment.” Maybe I couldn’t stomach the reality of what I had seen. Maybe I just refused to look that pathetic. So I lied. “Good. Look out your window. Come downstairs?” My heart slammed against my ribs. I practically ripped the curtains open. Sebastian was standing under the streetlamp below my apartment. He was wearing a charcoal wool overcoat, looking up at my window with a breathtakingly soft smile. “It’s freezing. Put a coat on before you come down.” I flew down the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. The entire way down, my brain spun with scenarios of how I was going to confront him. But the second I burst through the lobby doors and saw him, all my defenses crumbled into dust. I just looked at him, and the tears betrayed me, spilling over my cheeks. I launched myself into his chest. Sebastian wrapped his arms around me, patting my back steadily. He didn’t ask why I was crying. Instead, he pulled a small paper box from a boutique bag. “Basque burnt cheesecake. Just like I promised.” I took the box with trembling hands. But the air around him felt heavy. The conversation wasn’t over. He looked down at me, his gaze painfully serious. “Grace, there is something I need to tell you face to face.” He paused. His voice was still dipped in that same gentleness, but there was a heavy, suffocating finality to it.

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1 The city streets blurred past the passenger window. My brain was still stuck on an endless loop, replaying the word “Positive” printed on the clinic’s lab results. My wife suddenly broke the silence. Her voice was cold enough to freeze water. “There is something you need to know.” The smile died on my face. I watched her pull a folded document from her designer bag and toss it onto my lap. It was a DNA report. Under the section labeled “Father”, a name was stamped in bold ink. Garrison. My own brother-in-law. “That night you were burning up with a fever and passed out in the back seat.” She traced the leather of the steering wheel with one manicured fingernail. “He and I were right here in the front.” All the blood rushed straight to my head. I opened my mouth, but my throat felt like it had been filled with wet concrete. No sound came out. Valerie rested a hand over her slightly swollen stomach. Her eyes were completely dead. “If you can’t handle it, I’ll get rid of it. But don’t ever expect me to carry a child for you again.” She tossed the choice into my lap like we were discussing what to have for dinner. “To keep it or not. You call the shots.” The silence inside the SUV was suffocating. After a long time, I forced my mouth open. “Why? Why would you do this to me?” Black spots danced in my vision. It felt like invisible hands were wrapped around my throat, choking the air out of my lungs. Seeing the tears spilling down my face, Valerie pulled the car over. She reached out and wiped my cheek. “My older sister died without leaving a single kid behind. Garrison has no one left in this world to lean on. Giving him a child was the only thing I could do.” “If I terminate this pregnancy, I’m never going through the process again.” “If we keep it, I’ll make sure the kid calls you dad.” “It is entirely up to you.” Every word out of her mouth backed me further into a corner. I didn’t even have the strength to clench my fists. Just a few hours ago, she was wrapped in my arms, excitedly talking about our future family of three. As the director of the city’s top medical research foundation, she had been crying tears of joy. “We’re finally having a baby. I’m putting all my executive bonuses into a trust fund. I’m going to personally make sure he gets into an Ivy League school.” But a few hours later, she casually informed me the baby wasn’t mine. I raised a trembling fist in blind rage, but my hand dropped back down. “Valerie, you are completely out of your mind.” She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even raise her voice. “Let’s go home. I’ll make dinner.” Her tone was light. She reached over and gently clicked my seatbelt into place, acting like the conversation we just had never happened. I recoiled from her touch like I had been burned. Her face began to blur through my tears. The last time she had a miscarriage, I blamed myself entirely. The guilt dragged me into a severe, crippling depression. The local therapists couldn’t figure out how to help me, so Valerie used all her corporate connections to bring in a specialist from overseas. For countless days and nights, she dealt with my emotional breakdowns, bringing all her lab paperwork home just to keep an eye on me. Thinking back to how deeply we used to love each other, I couldn’t hold back my desperate question. “But you promised me. You promised you would try for another baby with me. Did none of that mean anything?” My intense reaction completely drained whatever patience she had left. “I am not holding a gun to your head and forcing you to raise this kid.” “You are forcing me.” My voice came out cracked and ruined. Valerie froze. Right at that moment, a motorcycle courier pulled up alongside our SUV and knocked on the glass. “Director. Garrison hurt his leg badly at the work site. You need to drive him to the emergency room right now.” All the color drained from Valerie’s face. She shoved me hard, pushing me toward the passenger door. “Walk home. You clearly need to cool off anyway.” She didn’t even leave me a parting glance. She hit the gas, and the heavy SUV roared down the street, leaving me behind. I hit the pavement hard. I struggled in the dirt for a long time before I could finally drag myself to my feet. I don’t know how long it took, but I stumbled my way back to our apartment. I walked straight to the expensive landline phone we rarely used. I picked up the receiver and dialed a number I had memorized long ago. “Hello. This is Rowan. I want to formally accept the volunteer teaching position in Alaska.” “Rowan. Thank God. That’s fantastic news.” After a brief moment of excitement, the voice on the other end hesitated. “But you need to be absolutely sure. Joining this project means relocating to the deep frontier. You’ll be stationed there permanently. It will be nearly impossible to visit your family. What about your wife…” I didn’t let him finish. “My mind is made up.” “Alright then. We’ll send a transport truck to pick you up in three days.” I hung up the phone and started packing my bags. We had been married for eight years. Every piece of furniture, every picture frame in this house was something we picked out together. She wanted to give all her corporate bonuses to Garrison. I hadn’t argued. I worked grueling freelance jobs just to pay our daily bills. Now, the home I had poured my entire soul into was popping like a cheap soap bubble. The front door clicked open. Valerie walked in. She saw me throwing clothes into a duffel bag and rolled her eyes, assuming I was throwing a tantrum. “You play these childish games every single time. If you don’t want the baby, just say it.” “Garrison was bleeding from a severe injury, and he still begged me to get an abortion so I wouldn’t upset you.” “He’s been through enough on his own. Can’t you learn to be a little less selfish?” A hollow, miserable laugh ripped out of my throat. “You think these past few years have been easy for me?” “That is enough.” Her patience was completely gone. “He lost his wife. He has nothing. No matter how much you complain, you still have me. You’ve been living a comfortable, easy life all these years just coasting on my status as a director.” I froze. A wave of pure absurdity washed over me. Ever since Valerie’s sister died in the line of duty, Valerie took it upon herself to act as Garrison’s surrogate wife. She catered to his every single demand. When a piece of falling debris cracked my skull open, she wasn’t there. When I was trapped in the mountains for three days during a brutal snowstorm on a charity run, she wasn’t there. Even on the day my father died of cancer, she wasn’t there. But every time Garrison had a minor cold or a scraped knee, she dropped everything and rushed to his side. And after all that, she had the nerve to say I was coasting on an easy life. My eyes burned. I laughed, mocking my own stupidity. “You’re a highly respected director, and you’re sleeping with your dead sister’s husband. Where is all that morality and dignity you love to preach about?” Right on cue, Garrison limped into the room. “Rowan, how could you say something like that? I’ve always treated you like my own little brother.” The man’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Blame me. It’s my fault. I was just too selfish. I wanted to leave a piece of my family behind. If you hate the idea of this baby so much, I’ll tell Valerie to go to the clinic right now.” He put on a pathetic display, turning around and limping toward the door, dramatically shouting about finding a doctor. Valerie clicked her tongue in annoyance and shoved me away in pure disgust. She turned to chase after him. The push sent me stumbling back. My head, still fragile from the old debris injury, slammed violently into the sharp corner of the coffee table. I grabbed her sleeve in agonizing pain. “Valerie. My head. It hurts so bad.” She violently yanked her arm out of my grip. “Sit here and think about what you’ve done. If his leg gets worse because of this, I’m holding you responsible.” The door slammed shut behind her, rattling the frames on the wall. It was only after she left that I felt the warm, thick liquid sliding down the back of my neck. Dizziness washed over me in sickening waves. I practically crawled across the floor to the landline and dialed the local emergency clinic. “I’m bleeding. My head. Please come help me.” I didn’t expect the voice on the other end of the line to be Valerie’s. She growled at me in pure irritation. “You are sitting safely at home. What danger could you possibly be in? Do not tie up the emergency medical lines for your petty tantrums ever again. Don’t call this number.” When I finally opened my eyes again, my head was wrapped in thick, tight gauze. A young nurse stood by the bed. She quietly told me that if they had found me a few minutes later, I would have bled to death. I reached up and touched the bandages. The pain in my chest was worse than the wound. Valerie. You almost murdered me with your own hands. Before I could even wipe the tears from my eyes, a neighbor from our apartment complex rushed into the room, looking terrified. “Rowan. The subsidized apartment the foundation promised your mother. Valerie just revoked the lease.” “You need to come quick. Your mom collapsed. It’s her heart.” It felt like lightning struck my spine. I didn’t even care about my head. I ripped the IV out and stumbled out of the clinic, practically dragging myself to the apartment block. When I arrived, Valerie was standing by the door, ordering a crew of movers to throw my mother’s belongings out onto the street. My mother had passed out from the shock, her frail body crumpled on the concrete. “What the hell are you doing?” I ran over like a madman and pulled my mother into my arms, glaring up at Valerie with pure hatred. There wasn’t a single shred of guilt in her eyes. Only deep, biting disgust. “Your mother has been walking around the complex spreading rumors that my baby belongs to Garrison. She is ruining our reputation.” I fired back with a bitter sneer. “Is it not the truth?” “You.” Valerie choked on her words. “My sister died a hero. Garrison is the widower of a hero. The foundation’s housing benefits absolutely must prioritize him.” “As for your mother, she can go back to her old slum. It makes no difference.” My mother seemed to hear those brutal words. She weakly twitched in my arms. When we got married, Valerie had knelt down in front of my mother, promising to treat her like her own flesh and blood. She personally promised to move my mother out of her rotting, leaky shack and put her in a safe, warm apartment. I never expected her promises to rot this quickly. Fighting through the blinding pain in my skull, I staggered to my feet and stood in front of her. “If anything happens to my mother, we are getting a divorce.” My words visibly knocked the wind out of her. She looked at my bloodstained clothes, then down at my unconscious mother. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t find her voice. Garrison picked the perfect moment to break the silence. He let out a pathetic, shaky sob. “Director. Just give the apartment to the old woman. I can sleep in an alley for all I care. You two can’t destroy your marriage over a guy like me.” His little speech instantly painted me as the hysterical villain. Valerie looked at me. Her eyes were full of absolute disappointment. “How can you throw the word divorce around so casually? You’re just saying that to torture him.” “Get over here and apologize to him right now.” I couldn’t hear her screaming anymore. I could only focus on my mother’s face, which was turning a terrifying shade of gray. I looked at the foundation’s private SUV parked nearby. It was my only hope. “I have nothing to apologize for. Valerie, order your driver to take my mom to the hospital. Now.” The second the words left my mouth, Garrison suddenly grabbed his thigh and let out a loud groan of agony. He twisted his face into a mask of pure suffering. “I was wrong. I’m sorry, Rowan. A worthless bachelor like me doesn’t deserve a child anyway.” Seeing his twisted, pained expression, Valerie didn’t hesitate. She grabbed his arm and practically carried him into the SUV. I chased after them, violently grabbing the car door handle, but she slapped my hand away with brutal force. My fresh stitches tore open. A wave of black dizziness hit me. The neighbors, completely confused by the drama, backed away from me like I carried a plague. Not a single person was willing to give us a ride. I had to drag my mother out to the main road, begging passing cars until a stranger finally pulled over. I carried her through the hospital doors, sprinting down the hallway, only to be blocked outside the intensive care wing. “I’m sorry, sir. We have absolutely zero beds left. We can’t admit her.” “Why not?” “Director Valerie has a VIP suite permanently reserved. This is her mother-in-law. Why can’t she use it?” I lost control of my facial expressions entirely. The nurse took a step back, her voice shaking. “The Director just checked her brother-in-law into that exact room ten minutes ago. The slot is completely occupied.” I turned my head stiffly and looked through the glass of the VIP suite. Garrison was lounging on the premium hospital bed, casually eating slices of fresh apple. Valerie was hovering nervously by his side, handing him a glass of water, acting exactly like a devoted wife. I shoved the door open, shattering their perfect domestic scene. “Valerie. My mom…” “Why are you stalking us?” Valerie cut me off, her eyes blazing with fury. “His leg flared up because of the vile things you said. If we were a second later, he could have lost the leg entirely.” Right at that moment, Garrison speared a piece of apple with a toothpick and chewed it slowly, looking completely relaxed. He didn’t look like a man fighting for his life. Valerie shoved me out of the suite and locked the door from the inside. My entire body was violently shaking. I had to find a way to transfer my mother to a private hospital. But when I checked my pockets, I realized I couldn’t even afford a taxi ride across town. I spotted Valerie’s assistant in the hallway. I grabbed her arm like a drowning man grabbing a lifeline. “Valerie’s executive bonus for this month. Please, let me get an advance on it. I swear on my life I will pay her back.” The assistant wouldn’t meet my eyes. She stammered out a reply. “The Director spent the entire bonus on imported supplements for Garrison. There’s nothing left in the account.” My grip went totally slack. My eyes were bloodshot and wild. I watched my mother struggling for every single breath. Every second that ticked by felt like a knife dragging across my heart. In a sheer panic, my hand brushed against the heavy jade pendant around my neck. It was the wedding gift Valerie brought back from an expedition years ago. Even when I was starving and living off stale bread, I never thought about pawning it. Now, I didn’t care. I ripped the necklace off and shoved it into the hands of the attending doctor. “This is a genuine antique. It’s incredibly valuable. Please, use this as collateral. Do something.” The doctor, who clearly knew a bit about jewelry, glanced at it and pushed it back into my chest. “Somebody ripped you off, buddy. This is a cheap piece of glass from a tourist trap. It’s basically a toy.” In a split second, the blood froze in my veins. The assistant couldn’t bear to watch anymore. She quietly explained the truth. “The Director did bring back a priceless jade piece from that trip. But she gave it to Garrison as soon as she landed. Yours… she bought yours at a gift shop down the street.” The fake jade slipped through my fingers and smashed against the tile floor, shattering into two pathetic pieces. Every ounce of strength drained from my body. Right there, sitting in the freezing, sterile hospital stairwell, my mother took her last breath. I bit down on my own lip so hard it bled. The sound of my own shattered sobbing echoed through the concrete walls. That night, after making the final arrangements for my mother’s body, I picked up my duffel bag and climbed into the transport truck heading for Alaska. At the exact same time, Valerie finished tucking Garrison into bed. She stepped out of the VIP suite and handed a stack of cash to her assistant. “Take this to my husband. Buy his mother some decent vitamins on the way.” “Tell him I’ll personally take him to get his head checked at the clinic tomorrow.” The assistant didn’t take the money. She kept her hands by her sides and spoke in a trembling whisper. “His mother passed away tonight.” “What?” Valerie’s heart plummeted into her stomach. She sprinted down the hallway and bolted out of the hospital doors. As she recklessly sped her SUV back toward our apartment, a dark green transport truck passed her going the opposite direction. She didn’t even glance at it. She just wanted to get home. She had no idea I was already on my way to the frozen frontier, and I was never coming back.

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Today marks my third year as Rowan’s captive. He changed overnight. He ripped out every security camera in the bedroom. Wiped his phone completely clean. Then he pulled open the heavy oak doors of the estate. His face was a blank mask. He told me he did not need me anymore. He told me to go home. Home? I had lived here for three years. Without this place, I had nowhere else to go. I stood frozen in the doorway. My hands felt utterly useless. I wondered if he was sick. I reached out to press my palm against his forehead, checking for a fever. But the second my fingers neared his skin, he flinched away. My hand hung awkwardly in midair. My entire body went rigid. Then his voice came, completely devoid of warmth. He told me he was wrong in the past. He never should have locked me up against my will. He said he had already bought an apartment for me downtown. He would wire twenty million dollars to my account as compensation. Finally, he said we should never see each other again. He wanted to live a normal life. 1 The ice-cold words smashed against my ears. But I heard nothing. The world just faded into static. For Rowan, it was love at first sight. Three years ago, my mother fell critically ill. I was drowning in medical debt. He stepped in and pulled me from the edge. His only condition was that I stay by his side. I did not love him back then. I only prayed he would get bored of me and let me go. But I never expected the man known to the public as the ruthless devil of Wall Street to treat me with such overwhelming tenderness. When I felt suffocated, he flew me across the globe. When I mentioned I loved dancing, he spent a fortune custom-making my ballet shoes. During a vacation that year, a sudden earthquake struck. Our hotel collapsed. He shielded me entirely in his embrace. The crumbling roof shattered his ribs. I sobbed until I could barely breathe. He just kissed away my tears and joked with a bloody smile. “What are you afraid of? When I die, you can finally leave me. You should be smiling.” My heart ached for him. I surrendered to my fate. I stayed quietly by his side. Three years passed. My universe had shrunk until it only contained him. Now, I did not take the bank card he offered. My fingers twisted together nervously. “You are not feeling well. Just rest early.” I turned and fled back to our shared master bedroom. This time, he did not follow me. That night, I waited in bed for a very long time. Rowan never walked through the door. Usually, he was addicted to my body. He was obsessed. He would crawl onto the mattress and kiss me with religious devotion, from my toes all the way up to my neck. Through the wall, I heard the sound of running water in the bathroom. I slipped out of bed barefoot. Taking a deep breath, I stripped off every piece of clothing. I pushed the bathroom door open slowly. Inside, the thick steam could not hide his sculpted physique. Broad shoulders. Chiseled abs trailing down his lean waist. And on his back, a terrifying, jagged scar that looked like a giant centipede. He got that scar saving my life. Hearing the door, he glanced over his shoulder. When his eyes dragged over my naked body, they darkened instinctively. His Adam’s apple bobbed. It was a dead giveaway that he was turned on. But just as I braced for him to pull me into the water… He spun around, snatched a towel from the rack, and wrapped it securely around his waist. “Who gave you permission to come in?” I panicked. He had never spoken to me like that. “I… I thought you liked it.” The old Rowan absolutely loved it. He used to coax and beg me daily just to share a bath. Now, his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked like he was suppressing sheer disgust. “Have you no shame?” “What?” He turned his head away. His jaw clenched in restraint. “Get out and put your clothes on.” I could not hold back anymore. I bolted from the room. Ten minutes later, the bathroom door finally clicked open. I heard his footsteps pause outside the master bedroom. Then, they faded down the hall. Early the next morning, Rowan’s assistant, Nolan, found me. He held out a set of keys. And the bank card I had refused the night before. “Mr. Lockwood’s orders. The new apartment is fully furnished. You can move in anytime.” I kept my head down. My eyes burned with fresh tears. Taking a shaky breath, I looked up at him. “Nolan, tell me the truth. Is the company in trouble? Is he sick?” Pity softened Nolan’s eyes. “The boss is perfectly fine. Everything is fine.” I refused to believe it. “If he is fine, he would never throw me away.” Seeing my red, swollen eyes, Nolan sighed heavily. He pressed the items into my palm. “I work for Mr. Lockwood. I probably shouldn’t be saying this. “But feelings come and go. Luckily, the boss is generous. “Take what he gives you. Don’t be foolish and reject it.” The jagged edges of the keys dug into my skin. “When does he want me out?” Nolan looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “Today.” So rushed? He could not even tolerate me for one more night. I forced a bitter smile and whispered a soft okay. I had a lot of things. All bought by him. Rowan was incredibly wealthy and never stingy with me. Over the years, almost as if to compensate me, he bought anything I showed even a sliver of interest in, completely ignoring the price tags. I did not want to take advantage of him, but I also could not bear to leave my past behind. I sifted through my belongings, packing only the most important items. While cleaning out a desk drawer in the study, I noticed a hidden safe. I frowned. I knew almost every inch of this house. But I had never seen this safe before. On pure instinct, I typed in my birthday. The heavy metal door popped open with a click. I blinked and peered inside. No gold bars. No hidden jewels. Just a stack of notebooks. The pages were yellowed with age. I pulled them out and realized they were Rowan’s diaries. The pages were packed with dense handwriting. It was all about me. There were seven notebooks in total. I checked the dates. The earliest entry was from seven years ago. But that was impossible. Seven years ago, I was still in high school. We didn’t even know each other. Confused, I kept reading. That was when I realized our history went back much further than I thought. Back then, he was just a broke kid making deliveries to pay for his tuition. He got into a bad accident on his bike, and I helped him out. Since that day, he could not get me out of his head. Whenever he felt depressed or hit a wall in his career, he would stand outside my dorm building just to catch a glimpse of me. From a poor boy watching from the shadows. To a billionaire standing proudly by my side. It took him four years. I had only meant to skim the pages. Before I knew it, the afternoon sun was streaming through the window. I touched my cheeks. They were completely soaked with tears. When I stood up, a velvet ring box tumbled out from between the pages of the oldest diary. A gorgeous, intricately cut diamond ring rested inside. My mind flashed back to two months ago. Rowan kept kissing my fingers. He even measured my ring size while I was asleep. So all this time… I could not just sit there. I threw everything back into my bag. I had to find him. Every employee at Rowan’s company knew my face. I took the private elevator straight to the top floor. I shoved the heavy oak doors to his office wide open. “Rowan, we need to talk.” The words barely left my mouth when I saw a young woman scrambling off his lap. She hastily adjusted her wrinkled blouse right in front of me. My blood turned to ice. Yet, in that absurdly painful moment, a strange memory surfaced. A few months ago, at a corporate dinner, a female client deliberately brushed her fingers against his hand while pouring wine. Rowan had snapped. He stormed out of the restaurant immediately. When he got home, he scrubbed his hands raw and knelt before me, crying that he was filthy. I finally had to kiss every single inch of his skin to calm him down. Things had changed. I never imagined he would let another woman get this close. “Who let you in!” he roared. “Are the security guards dead?” His secretary rushed in, trembling. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Lockwood. I didn’t know…” “Get out!” The secretary backed away and looked at me. “Ms. Avery?” I did not move. I was terrifyingly calm. I looked straight at him. “I just have a few questions. I’ll leave as soon as you answer them.” Rowan stared at me. Finally, he yielded. He led me into the adjoining conference room, slowly buttoning his dress shirt. “You have three minutes. Speak.” I slid the diaries and the diamond ring across the table. “What is this?” He frowned, picked them up, and flipped through the pages carelessly. “What exactly are you trying to prove with this?” “You were going to propose, weren’t you?” He stayed silent. “I refuse to believe your love just vanished overnight. There has to be a reason. Just tell me the truth.” A beat passed. Then, Rowan laughed. “Avery, did all those years locked up in my house give you Stockholm syndrome?” “Before we make this official, do you want me to hire a shrink for you?” He pulled a sleek silver lighter from his pocket. His tone dripped with casual mockery. “If you think a few pathetic journals prove I still care about you…” His thumb flicked the wheel. A bright flame danced from the metal. “…then I’ll just burn them.” The yellowed paper caught fire instantly, the flames eating away the memories. I gasped. “What are you doing?” Ignoring my panic, he kept talking. “Let it go. A few burnt books won’t change my mind. “Avery, I was sick for too many years. I want to be normal now. I want a normal relationship. “You saw the girl out there. She’s younger, she’s prettier. We are done.” Black ash floated into the air, carried by the AC breeze. My only thought was that I had to save those pages. I lunged forward and snatched the burning book. Searing pain shot up my arm, lighting up my nerve endings. Rowan’s mask finally cracked. Raw, unfiltered panic flooded his eyes. He grabbed my waist and pulled me back. “Are you insane?!” I managed to stamp out the fire before my brain registered the agony. The pain was so intense I blacked out. I woke up groggy to the sound of arguing. “What kind of host body did you stick me in? The guy is a total psycho.” “Did you read those diaries? Absolute garbage! A grown man playing the devoted saint. He really thought he was Romeo.” “And that woman is just as crazy. Locked up for three years, and when she gets a free pass, she refuses to leave. Pathetic.” I peeled my eyes open. Rowan was slumped on the hospital sofa. He looked incredibly annoyed. The room was empty, but he was muttering to someone unseen. “Look, let’s just drop the breakup with Avery.” “I only borrowed this body to complete the system’s mission. I don’t want a murder on my hands.” “I actually don’t hate her. Let’s just keep her in the villa. She’s a spineless little canary anyway. She won’t cause any trouble.” My ears perked up. I quietly digested every single word. Once the room went completely silent, I slowly opened my eyes. Hearing the sheets rustle, he rushed to my side. “You’re awake?” I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through my left hand. “Don’t move. Your burns haven’t healed.” I finally noticed the heavy gauze wrapped around my arm. He helped me prop up some pillows and turned to pour a glass of water. “I want hot milk,” I said softly. He smiled, gently taking my uninjured hand. “Of course. I’ll buy you whatever you want.” My heart turned to absolute ice. I am severely lactose intolerant. Dairy sends me straight to the ER. Rowan knew my body better than I did. For years, he inspected every single thing I ate or drank. I casually slipped my hand out of his grip and forced a weak smile. “Thanks, honey.” My arm injury did not restrict my daily life. But ‘Rowan’ insisted on hiring a private nurse. She was a woman in her fifties, highly efficient. Seeing him sit by my bed all day, she whispered to me with envy. “You don’t see men as devoted as Mr. Lockwood anymore.” “My husband never spends a fraction of that time on me.” I gave her a hollow smile. What she didn’t know was that the real Rowan cherished me like his own life. Forget a severe burn. If I bumped my knee on a table, he would kiss the bruise for hours. He would never trust anyone else to take care of me. A week later, I was discharged. He had already ordered his men to unpack all my bags at the villa. He spoke to me like a generous king granting a pardon. “Since you refuse to leave, just keep living here.” Originally, when he burned the diaries, I truly intended to walk away. But now, I had to stay. I needed to find out where my real Rowan had gone. 2 From that day on, the fake Rowan fell into a routine of leaving early and coming back late. He never mentioned the girl I caught him with. He didn’t bring it up. So I didn’t ask. But that didn’t mean I was blind. At noon, I packed some high-end takeout into a fancy bento box. I took a cab to his office building. Instead of calling him, I rang Nolan. “I made lunch for him. Could you bring it up to his office?” “I also grabbed coffee for the team. Thanks for helping.” The bags were heavy. Nolan took them with a frown. “Why not just call the boss yourself?” “I’m afraid of walking in on… something again. Better not make him mad.” Nolan gave me that look of profound pity again. After a long pause, he sighed. “The girl’s name is Brooke. She’s a new intern.” “But it’s weird. Before the final hiring list was even posted, Mr. Lockwood insisted on putting her in the executive suite. It was like he knew she was coming.” During my time with the real Rowan, he was fiercely loyal. He gave me daily reports on every single person he interacted with without me ever asking. I knew everyone in his circle. Brooke definitely was not one of them. Seeing my silence, Nolan rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t mind my big mouth. Just… look out for yourself, okay?” “Call me if you ever need help.” I nodded and gave him a sincere thank you. That evening, ‘Rowan’ surprisingly came home early. “Why didn’t you call me when you dropped by the office?” I lowered my eyes. “I didn’t want to interrupt your work.” I probably looked incredibly pathetic. A flicker of sympathy crossed his face. “The lunch was great. Really delicious,” he said. “But I want you to have your own life. Don’t just revolve around me.” I nodded obediently. “Okay.” He could not resist patting my head. Since I had nothing real to say to this imposter, I took a shower and went to bed early. Not long after I laid down, I heard footsteps pacing outside my door. He was hesitating. I held my breath and listened closely. I could barely make out his whispers. “I just feel sorry for her. Look how obedient she was today. If I don’t sleep in there, she’ll overthink it.” “I’m doing this for the mission. You don’t want my cover blown either, right?” “Relax, I’m not a freak like Rowan. I’m not gonna touch another man’s girl.” A moment later, the door creaked open. I clamped my eyes shut, pretending to be fast asleep. He slipped under the covers beside me. Seeing me asleep, he seemed to let out a huge breath of relief. He leaned close to my neck and took a deep inhale, sighing in satisfaction. “Smells amazing.” Lately, his attitude toward me had definitely shifted. From initial disgust to gradual acceptance. He even moved out of the guest room and back into the master suite. But my feelings were the exact opposite. Every night sharing a bed with him felt like sleeping next to a corpse. It was revolting. However, there was some good news. His ‘system mission’ was going exceptionally well. I figured that out through Nolan. The assistant wore his heart on his sleeve. Every time he saw me, he looked unbearably guilty, as if he were the one cheating on me. One afternoon, the guilt became too much for him. After taking my ‘homemade’ lunch, he dropped a heavy hint. “The boss is going on a business trip to the neighboring city for a few days. He’s taking an assistant.” “Parentheses, that assistant is not me.” So it was the intern. I nodded to show I understood. When I didn’t react, he added quietly, “The downtown apartment is fully cleared of formaldehyde. Are you really not gonna move in?” I shook my head slowly. Actually, the villa I was living in was legally transferred to my name three years ago. If anyone was getting kicked out, it wouldn’t be me. A few days later, ‘Rowan’ casually brought up the trip. When the real Rowan traveled, regardless of the distance, he dragged me with him. He had severe touch starvation. If he couldn’t hold me, he panicked. So, even knowing the answer, I played my part. “Honey, do you want me to go with you?” He blinked in surprise. “You want to come?” I ducked my head, playing shy. “I’m just afraid you’ll miss me.” His expression became visibly conflicted. After a long silence, he cleared his throat. “It’s strictly business. You don’t need to come.” I nodded eagerly. “Then I’ll wait right here for you to come home.” Wait for the real Rowan to come home, I meant. The minute he left, I grabbed his black card and went on a shopping spree. I never noticed it when he was around. But now that he was gone, I actually missed him. So, I picked out several pieces of highly scandalous lace lingerie. The exact kind Rowan used to beg on his knees for me to wear. The silk was exquisite, and the price tags were astronomical. Thinking about how these expensive pieces usually ended up shredded in Rowan’s aggressive grip made my heart ache a little. When I got home, I laid my loot across the bed and tried them on one by one. Seductive eyes. Flawless curves. No wonder the man was addicted to me. I was just about to change into the next set when the front door clicked open. At this hour… was it him? He was back so soon! Suppressing my joy, I bolted out of the bedroom. “Honey, you’re” The words died in my throat. Wrong. The eyes were wrong. When my Rowan looked at me, his gaze was dark, obsessive, and overflowing with desperate love. The man standing before me looked shocked, and then his eyes clouded with pure, dirty lust. It made my skin crawl. Covering up now would look too suspicious. I forced myself to stay calm. “Honey, why are you back? I thought you were on a trip.” “I figured you’d cry without me, so I rebooked my flight.” Damn it. That meant the mission wasn’t finished. Hiding my bitter disappointment, I forced a bright smile. “That’s great! Let me go change real quick.” I tried to step backward into the bedroom. But he moved faster. He snaked an arm around my waist from behind. “Don’t change. I like this one.” My heart plummeted. My muscles locked up. He leaned directly into my ear. “Did you buy this just to please me?” He was too close. I smelled stale alcohol mixed with cheap women’s perfume on his collar. Nausea clawed at my throat. “I was just trying it on…” Before I could finish, his lips dragged across my neck. “Seriously, did you put a hex on me?” “Why do I have zero interest in touching any other woman but you?” At that exact second, a robotic alarm blared in the air. [Warning. Host has violated Transmigration Rule 384. Intimate contact with anyone other than the designated target is strictly prohibited.] [Stop immediately!] “I am Rowan now, and she is my woman,” he growled. “Claiming her is my right. If I fail, so be it. I’m not going back to my old life anyway.” His grip on my waist tightened brutally. Panic fully set in. I clenched my jaw, swung my arm, and slapped him across the face with everything I had. Smack! The next second, he froze completely. He touched his stinging cheek, his eyes wide, pure, and utterly confused. “Wife?!” “Why did you hit me?” He looked down, taking in my lingerie, and blinked. Then, he tilted his other cheek toward me. “Here.” “Hit this side too.” Holy shit! My beautiful psycho was back! I couldn’t even process my own emotions. I practically climbed him like a tree, sobbing hysterically and wiping tears all over his expensive shirt. Rowan instantly panicked. “What’s wrong?” “Okay, okay, don’t cry. Shh, don’t cry.” “I’m here. Your husband is right here.” It took a long time for me to finally calm down. He told me he had been locked in a dark, empty void. “Most of the time I was unconscious. I could only catch glimpses of the outside world through his perspective.” “Earlier, I thought I heard your voice. I heard something about you wearing a beautiful nightgown, so I fought like hell to open my eyes.” His eyes dragged over my body with zero restraint. “You look gorgeous.” I was speechless. It figures. The only thing that could summon a psycho was psycho energy. That night, the lingerie met its usual fate. Torn to shreds in his hands. Reunited after so long, he completely lost his mind. I didn’t even know how I finally passed out. Half asleep, I felt a wet tongue trailing over the burn scar on my arm. It tickled. I tried to pull away. He sighed heavily against my skin. “Protect yourself.” “It breaks my heart.” When I regained consciousness, the body beside me was still warm. Out of pure habit, I nuzzled into his chest. But he didn’t wrap his arms around me like a golden retriever. Confused, I looked up. I met a pair of calculating, unfamiliar eyes. My blood ran cold. Rowan. He was gone again. Rowan briefly seizing control of his body served as a massive warning to the transmigrator. Gavin did not dare touch me again. He kept his distance cautiously. One night, I woke up thirsty. I walked into the hallway and noticed the light glowing under the study door. Inside, the man’s impatient voice carried through the crack. “Why did I suddenly black out? Why did he wake up? Have your engineers figured it out yet?” [This is unprecedented. Technical support is running a diagnostic.] [But I warned you before. This host, Rowan, has exceptionally high mental fortitude.] [Especially regarding Avery. You must not touch her.] [Just complete your mission obediently, and we can both return to our original world.] “And what about Avery?” The system paused. [What about her?] “If I leave, that psycho gets his body back and keeps controlling her life.” The system sounded bewildered. [Why do you care?] The man scoffed. “As long as I occupy this body, she is my responsibility.” “I’d rather stay stuck here forever than abandon her to a control freak.” [???] [You’re just doing a dating sim mission. Where did this sudden superhero complex come from?] “What did you say?” [Nothing. Do whatever makes you happy, sir.] I waited until the room fell dead silent before tiptoeing back to bed. My mind raced. Slowly, a crazy plan began to form. If my touch was the key to waking Rowan up. Then I would go all in. I decided to seduce him. No. I decided to seduce the transmigrator. Since the last incident, Gavin had been sleeping in the guest room. The next night, right as he was getting ready for bed, I changed into a silk slip. It wasn’t overly scandalous, but it clung to every curve of my body perfectly. I spent an hour doing ‘no-makeup’ makeup. I knocked softly on the guest room door. “Honey, are you asleep?” The man reading in bed looked up and froze. “What are you doing here?” “I can’t sleep.” I padded barefoot across the thick carpet. My heart hammered against my ribs. I had never done anything like this before. He closed his book and took off his gold-rimmed glasses. “What do you want?” “You haven’t touched me in so long.” I looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Are you not attracted to me anymore?” I let my fingers trail lightly down his chest. After surviving my intense relationship with the real Rowan, I knew every single sensitive spot on this body like the back of my hand. The soul was fake, but the nerve endings were real. His breathing hitched immediately. I pressed my advantage, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. His eyes darkened violently. He grabbed my wrists. A low groan rumbled in his chest. “Wife, keep touching.” That shameless, hungry look. Who else could it be? I knew the bastard couldn’t resist! Since my Rowan was back, the seduction was officially canceled. I scrambled to get off his lap. He clamped his hands tightly on my waist and pulled me flush against him. “Where are you going?” “Why stop now?” Furious, I smacked him right on his painfully obvious erection. “Is this really the time for that?!” He let out a sharp hiss. Then he grabbed my hand and dragged his tongue across my palm. “I need a cold shower.” To prevent him from going feral again, I quickly changed into flannel pajamas and sat cross-legged on the bed waiting for him. A few minutes later, he walked out. He had taken a freezing military shower. I rapidly relayed all the intel I gathered. “The fake guy says he wants to save me.” I rolled my eyes. “Is that the catch? If I leave, his mission is successful?” “What should I do? Should I actually pack up and cut ties with you?” He went totally silent. Then he murmured, “It has nothing to do with you.” “Huh?” He explained. “Since I woke up last time, my periods of lucidity are getting longer. “While I was trapped, I saw his memories.” “His name is Gavin. A broke college grad with too much pride and zero work ethic. “Before he crossed over, his girlfriend dumped him for being a lazy loser. He got evicted and was sleeping on the streets. That’s when the system pulled him in.” “He has absolutely nothing holding him to his original world. He never planned on going back.” His own life was a miserable failure. Coming here, he instantly became a billionaire CEO. Endless money. Supreme power. A perfect body and a handsome face. It was the ultimate reset button.

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In the checkout line at the grocery store, the girl standing in front of me suddenly let out a sharp gasp. She violently sidestepped, ducking behind me like a frightened animal. Her voice was trembling uncontrollably. “You go first.” I gave her a weird look but stepped up and paid for my groceries. The second my transaction went through, a crowd of store employees swarmed me. Confetti popped. They were grinning from ear to ear, loudly announcing that I was the store’s one millionth customer. I had just won a ten million dollar cash prize. The sheer shock paralyzed my brain for a solid minute. When I finally snapped out of it, my first thought was to find that girl and thank her. But as I turned around, my feet glued themselves to the floor. She was leaning heavily against a display shelf, gasping for air. Her face was chalk-white, and her expression was completely consumed by the overwhelming relief of someone who had just barely escaped death. 1 There wasn’t a single trace of regret on that girl’s face. Not a drop of jealousy over missing out on ten million dollars. I knew that exact expression. I was intimately familiar with it. Years ago, I was riding my bicycle without paying attention and got dragged under the wheels of a massive semi-truck. The bike was crushed into twisted metal. The heavy tires screeched to a halt just inches away from my skull. When I crawled out from under that undercarriage and collapsed onto the asphalt, I looked exactly like the girl standing in front of me right now. It was the look of surviving a disaster. Gasping for oxygen. Total physical collapse. But that reaction only makes sense when you’ve just stared death in the face. Why was this girl reacting like that in the middle of a grocery store? I opened my mouth, wanting to ask her if she was okay. She didn’t give me the chance. She turned on her heel and walked rapidly toward the exit. Right as she reached the automatic sliding doors, she stopped and glanced back at me. Our eyes met. A violent shudder ripped through my chest. Because looking back at me, her eyes were completely filled with pity. 2 That look left a deep, crawling sense of unease in my gut. But the moment ten million dollars officially hit my bank account, all that paranoia completely evaporated. Sitting alone in my cramped rental apartment, I stared at the absurdly long string of zeros on my banking app. My hands were shaking uncontrollably. A house. A luxury car. Traveling the globe. A million different dreams were exploding in my head. My phone buzzed. It was a text message from an unknown number. “Do not open the door for your food delivery.” “Freak,” I muttered under my breath. I furrowed my brows, deleted the obvious prank text, and went back to daydreaming about my new wealth. By the time I finally snapped out of my fantasy, it was late into the night. My stomach growled. I opened up DoorDash. Instead of scrolling through my usual cheap fast food options, I went straight to the most expensive steakhouse in the city. Half an hour later, a heavy knock echoed through the apartment. “Delivery for Jessica.” I pushed myself off the couch, ready to grab my food. But for some inexplicable reason, that bizarre text message flashed in my mind. Those ten words felt like iron nails pinning my feet to the floorboards. Normally, I would have just ignored it. But I was sitting on ten million dollars now. Being a little paranoid couldn’t hurt. I raised my voice and called out toward the door. “Just leave it on the mat!” “Sure thing. Enjoy your meal.” I heard the heavy paper bag hit the floor. The delivery guy’s heavy footsteps slowly echoed down the hall, fading away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and walked over to unlock the deadbolt. Right as my fingers brushed the cold metal handle, I noticed something terrifying. The light creeping through the crack under my door was still on. My apartment complex had recently installed motion-sensor lights in the hallways to save power. If someone was in the hall, the light stayed on. If it was empty, it turned off in thirty seconds. The delivery guy had walked away minutes ago. Why was the light still on? I held my breath. I pressed my ear flat against the cold wood of the door. A second later, a freezing chill shot straight up from my heels to the top of my skull. I heard a soft, rhythmic breathing sound coming from the other side of the wood. The delivery guy hadn’t left. He was standing right outside my door. 3 I bit down hard on my lip, pulled out my phone, and silently texted 911. Every second felt like an agonizing hour. Twenty minutes later, I finally looked through the peephole and saw two uniformed police officers. Only then did I unlock the door. The lead officer looked at me with deep skepticism. “Ma’am, we checked the entire hallway and the stairwells. There is no one here.” “Are you absolutely certain someone was trying to harm you?” I didn’t even bother putting on my shoes. I led the cops straight down to the building’s security office. But when I demanded to pull the security footage for my floor, the night guard just clicked his tongue. “Sorry, miss. The camera on your floor specifically shorted out this afternoon.” My heart completely dropped. This wasn’t a random creep. This was premeditated. Someone was actively hunting me. Since there was no footage, the cops just told me to lock my doors and call them if anything else happened. Back in my apartment, I buried myself under the thick duvet on my bed. If I hadn’t received that warning text, if I had just opened the door like a normal night, I didn’t even want to imagine what would have happened to me. Suddenly, a realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. The person behind that unknown number knew there was a killer outside my door. And since they warned me, they clearly weren’t the enemy. If I could just get a hold of them, maybe I could figure out who was trying to kill me. My fingers trembled as I dialed the unknown number. The phone rang. And rang. Every single dial tone made my heart stutter. I was terrified they would hang up. I was terrified they just wouldn’t answer. On the fifteenth second, the ringing clicked off. “Congratulations. You’re still alive.” The words completely paralyzed me. But what shocked me even more was the voice on the other end. I knew that voice. I had heard it today. It was the girl from the grocery store. The one who pushed me forward in line. I didn’t care about anything else anymore. I gripped the phone and unleashed every question burning in my mind. “Who the hell are you? How did you know someone was going to kill me?” There was a long, heavy silence on the line. Then, her voice came back, trembling violently. “Because that is exactly how I died in my last life.” 4 The neon lights of the 24-hour gaming lounge were blinding. The sound of keyboards clacking and teenagers yelling at video games was usually annoying, but tonight, it made me feel incredibly safe. I sat in a private booth, staring at the girl sitting across from me. My mind was completely reeling. Her name was Sophie. After the phone call, we decided to meet somewhere public and highly secure. The gaming lounge had dozens of cameras and was packed with people. The very first thing Sophie told me completely shattered my reality. She was a reincarnator. In her previous life, Sophie had kept her place in line. She was the one who won the ten million dollars. The night she won the money, she did exactly what I did. She ordered an outrageously expensive meal to celebrate. But the moment she opened her door to grab the food, a man shoved his way inside and plunged a hunting knife straight into her heart. The killer was dressed entirely in black, wearing a heavy mask and a pulled-down baseball cap. Before her eyes finally closed for good, she never got to see his face. When she woke up back in the grocery store, the sheer, paralyzing terror of her own murder made her step back. She willingly gave up the ten million dollars just to survive. But the guilt of passing the death sentence onto me ate at her. She memorized my phone number at the checkout counter and sent me that warning text. Listening to her story, a massive wave of gratitude washed over me. If she hadn’t been a good person, I would be bleeding out on my apartment floor right now. I reached across the table and grabbed her hands. “Thank you. You literally saved my life.” “I’ll split the money with you. Half of it is yours. It was supposed to be yours anyway.” Sophie’s face instantly contorted in pure terror. “I think the killer is explicitly hunting the winner of the money.” “He failed tonight. Next time, he is going to be far more prepared and far more lethal.” “And I can’t protect you anymore. I have no idea when or how he’s going to strike next.” I furrowed my brows, forcing my brain to work. “Think back to your last life. Did you notice absolutely anything about the killer before you died?” Sophie shook her head slowly. “The moment the knife went into my chest, my vision went blurry.” “The pain was so blinding I couldn’t even formulate a thought before I died.” “Black clothes, black hat, black mask. That’s all I saw.” She fell silent. Then, her eyes suddenly went wide. “Wait. I remember something. I smelled him!” She frantically rubbed her temples, trying to drag the memory out. “It was a really specific smell. I know I’ve smelled it before, I just can’t pinpoint what it was!” I told her not to panic and to just keep thinking. My own brain was spinning in overdrive. “Here is what I don’t understand. How did the killer track us down so fast?” Sophie pulled up her phone. She opened a news app. “I know what you’re thinking.” “The grocery store filmed the entire millionth customer celebration for a PR stunt.” “The video went completely viral on TikTok and Twitter. My face was plastered all over the internet. So I couldn’t tell if the killer was a total stranger who tracked me down, or someone I actually knew.” I stared at the viral video playing on her screen, then slowly shook my head. “But my situation is different.” “When I went to the store today, I didn’t have makeup on. I hadn’t washed my hair. I was wearing a massive hoodie, a baseball cap pulled down low, and a surgical mask because I’ve been getting over a cold.” “Unless someone knew me intimately, they would never be able to recognize me from this video.” “And based on the break-in, the person trying to kill me is the exact same person who killed you.” “That leaves exactly two possibilities.” “One. The killer was physically in the grocery store, followed us home, and memorized our addresses.” “Two. The killer is someone we both personally know.” Sophie bit her lip. She held up two fingers. “I think it has to be the second option.” “I am a deeply paranoid person. I watch way too much true crime. When I won that money, I was terrified of being followed.” “I took three different Ubers. I walked through two separate shopping malls. I took the most convoluted, insane route back to my apartment.” “The odds of someone tailing me through all of that without me noticing are virtually zero.” I nodded. We both pulled out our phones, opened our contacts, and started cross-referencing names. When I saw a very specific profile picture pop up in Sophie’s mutuals, my right eyelid twitched violently. It was my absolute best friend in the world. Fiona. Right at that exact second, a text from Fiona popped up on my screen. “Babe, I’m running a terrible fever. I feel awful.” “Can you come over and keep me company?” 5 The video of me winning ten million dollars was sitting at the number one spot on the trending page. If Fiona had seen it, she would have recognized me instantly, mask or no mask. Knowing her personality, the second she realized it was me, she would have called me screaming with excitement. But she didn’t. I stared at her text message. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but I couldn’t bring myself to reply. Still, it was just a theory. Fiona and I were as close as sisters. I refused to believe she would ever try to murder me. Taking a deep breath, Sophie and I kept scrolling. The second suspect was Gary. My landlord. He managed the building Sophie and I both lived in. He had come over to fix my radiator once when I was wearing that exact same oversized hoodie. The third suspect was Luke. The maintenance guy who delivered the heavy five-gallon water jugs to our apartments. Just like Gary, he could have recognized me in the video. Both of these men fit the profile perfectly. They knew what we looked like, they knew where we lived, and they had access to our buildings. But when I pictured their faces, my suspicion completely wavered. Gary was a sweet old man who was always smiling. When I was tight on cash and needed an extension on rent, he always agreed without a second thought. Luke was a shy, hardworking guy who blushed every time I said thank you. Last week he carried a heavy massage chair all the way up three flights of stairs for me, and he refused to take a single dollar for a tip. I just couldn’t picture either of them plunging a knife into someone’s chest. We had our suspect list, but how the hell were we supposed to prove anything? While I was racking my brain, Sophie suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream. She kicked her legs violently against the underside of the table, shoving her chair backward. Her head slammed hard against the wall of the booth, but she didn’t even seem to feel it. I jumped out of my seat in a panic. Sophie’s eyes were wide open, locked onto me with absolute terror. She lunged forward, gripping my hands so tightly her nails dug into my skin. “I just reincarnated again!” “In five minutes, the power in this lounge is going to cut out. The door to this booth is going to swing open, and the killer is going to chop your head clean off!” “It was so warm. The smell of iron. Blood was everywhere!” Sophie clutched her own throat. Sweat poured down her forehead. “It hurt so much!” “He walked over and slashed my throat. I couldn’t even scream.” She took a few ragged breaths, then leaned in close. Her eyes were practically glowing with manic adrenaline. “But before I died, I managed to hit the power button on my phone.” “The screen lit up. And in the glow, I finally saw the killer’s face!” 6 I swallowed hard. My voice was a terrified whisper. “Who was it?” Sophie stared right into my eyes and slowly spoke the name. “Fiona.” My brain completely flatlined. My knees went weak, and I had to grab the edge of the table just to stay standing. For a split second, I desperately wanted to accuse Sophie of lying to me. But the brutal reality was that Sophie had absolutely zero motive to lie. Then, a chilling memory hit me. Because we were two women living alone in a big city, Fiona and I had installed a location-tracking app on our phones for safety. If she could see exactly where I was, why the hell did she just text me asking where I was? My hands were shaking so violently I almost dropped my phone. I opened the location app I hadn’t checked in months. The next second, my heart completely stopped. On the digital map, the red dot representing Fiona’s phone was almost perfectly overlapping with my green dot. Fiona was right outside the lounge. I snapped my head up, locking eyes with Sophie. We grabbed our bags and sprinted out of the building. Bursting through the front doors, we threw ourselves into the back of a taxi idling on the curb. “The Grand Plaza Hotel. Step on it!” The Grand Plaza was a luxury five-star hotel with incredibly strict security. It was the safest place I could think of right now. The locks clicked into place. The engine purred. Watching the neon sign of the gaming lounge shrink in the rearview mirror, I closed my eyes and let out a massive, shaky exhale. The next second, the engine roared. The car violently swerved off the main road and down a pitch-black alleyway. The driver looked in the rearview mirror. He smiled, exposing a row of yellowing teeth. “Where are you rushing off to so late at night, Jessica?”

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1 Three years after my childhood sweetheart vanished, I finally caught a scent of her. My assistant held the photo, his voice hesitant. “Mr. Kingston, should we go now?” I paused, a foot already lifted, and slowly shook my head. “No need.” My thoughts drifted back to the beginning. Not long after the hero appeared, my childhood sweetheart mysteriously disappeared by the ocean. When I saw her again, she had lost all her memories, her world revolving solely around the man who had rescued her from the waves. Jealousy gnawed at me. I subtly engineered his downfall, forcing him away, but never expected it would lead directly to a horrific car accident. She became volatile, raging at me for my despicable tactics and dark heart, even declaring that even if her memories returned, she would never choose me. Her revenge was relentless, driving my family’s company to the brink of ruin. “The debt you owe will be repaid with the entirety of Kingston Enterprises,” she’d sneer. “You got what was coming to you.” Her words were like venom-tipped ice picks. Ultimately, in a car crash caused by brake failure, we both plunged into the ocean, bringing it all to an end. … I gave up searching for Rose King. But a year into this new timeline, she still returned. Friends in our circle threw her a lavish welcome-back party. I had just returned from a business trip, dragged along by a buddy who mysteriously promised me a surprise. The moment I walked in, there she was, Rose King, surrounded by a crowd. Due to her amnesia, she exuded an aura of coldness and detachment towards everyone around her. Our eyes met, and someone excitedly pointed at me, asking her: “Ellie, even if you’ve forgotten us, you must remember Felix, right?” “You two grew up together, even promised to be together forever.” All eyes in the private room shifted to me. Rose looked over, neither confirming nor denying, only repeating slowly after a brief silence: “Felix.” Seeing her reaction, everyone probably guessed the truth and laughed to lighten the mood, consoling me: “Felix, Ellie hit her head and forgot all of us.” “But the doctor said there’s still a chance her memory could return… Even if it doesn’t, at least she’s safe and sound, that’s a blessing, isn’t it?” Their words were tactful, probably to spare my feelings. Then, as if to bridge the gap between Rose and me, everyone started chattering about our past. “When you disappeared at sea, Felix was the most devastated.” “He was the only one who believed you were still alive, searching everywhere for you.” “Man, you never know what life throws at you. If it wasn’t for that accident, you two would be married by now.” He wasn’t wrong. Rose and I had been betrothed since childhood. Before her disappearance, we had even set a wedding date. Instead of a wedding, I got her silent disappearance into the vast ocean. Her last words to me had been: “Felix, I’m so excited for our wedding.” Years later, bringing it up again only brought a sense of melancholy. Holding my drink, I played along with the reunion atmosphere, smiling at Rose. “Welcome home.” But she looked at me and said: “I didn’t come back to honor an engagement.” “I have someone I love.” I knew. I knew that a year ago when I found her. She loved Liam Thorne. Back then, after countless disappointments, it was the only time I had seen her alive and real. The long-held sadness and a sudden burst of joy mingled, almost bringing tears to my eyes. I rushed over, grabbing her arm, choking out her name: “Rose King.” All I got was her shaking off my hand and an unfamiliar question: “Do I know you?” I tried to suppress the bitterness rising in my heart, patiently explaining that we were childhood sweethearts, betrothed since birth, and that she had fallen from a cruise ship three years ago. Afraid she wouldn’t believe me, I pulled out a photo I always carried – a picture of her celebrating my birthday with me. I pleaded cautiously: “Please, come back with me first. Let a doctor examine you, and then I’ll slowly tell you everything, okay?” “Your leg is injured, it needs treatment soon.” More than her amnesia, I was concerned about her slightly limping right leg due to the injury. But before I could hear her answer, a man suddenly appeared, his voice trembling as he asked her: “Are you going to leave me?” The boy’s shirt fluttered in the sea breeze, his short hair casually falling across his forehead, like a sea sprite. This wasn’t my first time on this island, nor my first time seeing him. I had come here the day after Rose disappeared, going door-to-door with that same photo. Back then, he had blocked me at the door, glanced at the photo, and said: “Never seen her.” Only then did I realize I’d been deceived. Anger flared, and I couldn’t help but accuse him: “You lied to me.” He shook his head timidly, his tear-filled eyes turning to Rose. “I didn’t mean to. She was already hurt, and I was afraid you were a bad guy, going to hurt her again. I’m sorry…” Rose walked over, shielding him behind her, and casually tossed the photo at my feet. “It’s just a photo. Why should I believe you?” The wind was strong by the sea, and I couldn’t grab it in time, watching helplessly as it was swept away by the waves. Rose’s soft voice, reassuring him, carried on the wind: “I won’t leave you, ever.” So, the one who would be left was only me. To persuade her to return, I had to stay on the island. Every day, I tried to help her recall her past. But she remained indifferent. Driven by Liam’s anxiety, she grew even more disgusted with me, warning: “Take your made-up stories and get lost!” Two weeks later, I stormed onto her fishing boat, somewhat losing control as I yelled at her: “Even if you don’t care about yourself, what about your grandmother?” “Do you know she had a heart attack from worry after you disappeared at sea?” “She’s still in the ICU, waiting for you to come home!” Rose’s hand, holding the fishing net, froze. Her tone was flat: “What does that have to do with me?” “All I know is, now Liam is my only family… and my love.” Just then, a wave surged, and the small boat rocked violently. Rose instinctively gripped Liam’s wrist, then watched me fall from the boat, swallowed by the waves. Seawater rushed in, and every organ ached. Combined with days of exhaustion, I fell into a three-day coma. When I woke, my assistant rushed to tell me: “Mr. Kingston, Ms. King and… that boy left by boat.” “The bodyguards you asked me to arrange are ready. We can still catch them if we leave now.” I stared blankly out at the clear blue sky, remembering the nightmare of being engulfed by the waves. Influenced by my parents, I had learned the art of persuasion and coercion from a young age. Since reasoning with Rose was futile, I had already planned to have bodyguards forcibly bring her back. In the previous life, I had indeed done so. Even amidst Rose’s fierce resistance, I had agreed to bring Liam back with her. Unfortunately, she still didn’t get to see her grandmother one last time. Doctors said her amnesia was due to a head injury and they couldn’t determine when her memory would return. But her right leg received treatment and slowly recovered. During Rose’s three-year disappearance, the position of King Group heir had fallen to her half-sister. The ability to reclaim it was likely due to my steadfast commitment to the engagement, holding her place for her. Weighing the pros and cons, they naturally didn’t want to give up the opportunity for a strong alliance with the Kingston family. After that, I accompanied her, helping her refamiliarize herself with company affairs, naively believing we could return to how things were. Until I saw her and Liam kissing. I had to face the facts I had deliberately ignored. The photos my assistant sent were all of them in intimate moments. Watching fireworks together, shopping, holding hands on walks… I tortured myself by looking through every single one, then, like any villainous male lead in a romance story, I secretly found Liam, without Rose knowing, and threatened him: “I hear your father’s surgery was a great success. You wouldn’t want her to know her son is playing the role of a homewrecker, would you?” “Of course, you saved Rose’s life, and we’re all very grateful.” I pushed a check across the table to him, smiling. “Savior or homewrecker, the choice of identity is up to you.” Liam looked at me, pale, then suddenly laughed: “Felix, you’re just clinging to that engagement, aren’t you?” Yes, I was clinging to that engagement. Rose and I were childhood sweethearts, well-matched, and had promised to be together forever since we were kids. Why should he be able to come in later and take my place? I was convinced Rose would love me once her memories returned. But I never expected Liam to get into a car accident with that check. He was severely injured and lost the baby. When I rushed to the hospital, I happened to overhear him, his eyes swimming with tears, apologizing to Rose: “Ellie, I’m so sorry… I know you’ve remembered that I was the one who caused your head injury and amnesia…” “It’s okay if you don’t forgive me. It was all my fault, consider it my karma.” I stood outside the door, unsure at that moment which revelation hit me harder. That Rose had regained her memory long ago. Or that her amnesia was actually caused by Liam. The check smacked against my face, pulling me back to reality. All my emotions eventually coalesced into a single, bewildered sound: “Rose?” Her eyes, full of malice, stared at me, her voice mocking as she accused: “Happy now? Because of your disgusting ‘love,’ you almost cost someone their life!” “Do you think I’ll like you now that I’ve regained my memory? I’m telling you, Felix, I won’t.” “I’ll only be more aware than anyone of your dirty tricks and malicious heart.” A life lost. It erased the rift between her and Liam; the cause of her amnesia was forgiven. And our childhood friendship completely shattered; I became the killer. She said Liam had grown up on the island, pure and kind. Unlike me, who grew up in the cutthroat world of business, full of schemes. Rose scoffed: “What makes you think I’d ever like someone like you?” So, she conspired with rivals to set up Kingston Enterprises, using every dirty trick to bankrupt my family and plunge us into massive debt. It was to break off the engagement, clearing the path for Liam. And also to get her revenge on me. Rose, arm around Liam, condemned me with the tone of a judge: “Felix, you deserve this.” It was probably like all happy endings in love stories—the hero and heroine living blissfully, while the villainous male lead loses everything. Until, finally, he loses his life too. Due to brake failure, Rose and I both perished in the sea. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she and Liam were escaping by boat to get away from me. My assistant tapped on the tablet, looking at the location, and seeing me suddenly freeze, cautiously asked: “What’s wrong, Mr. Kingston? Are we still going after them?” I shook my head. “No, we’re not.” After Rose fell into the sea, the search and rescue team looked for her for seven days and seven nights. Everyone believed she was dead. Only I refused to give up, searching for three more years. Then I discarded the files and left the island. To this day, I hadn’t told anyone I found her. Meeting her again now wasn’t entirely unexpected. After all, according to the timeline, Liam’s father should be gravely ill around now. Whether it was medical resources or surgical expenses, she would have to recall the identity I had once told her. So Rose’s return truly wasn’t about honoring an engagement. A few seconds of silence filled the private room. Everyone exchanged glances, then slowly realized. The person she loved was Liam Thorne, her savior. After a brief lull, the room buzzed with chatter again. Someone joked: “Makes sense, a life debt should be repaid in marriage, right?” “Speaking of which, that kid’s got guts, just hauling some strange grown woman home.” I listened calmly to their teasing, suddenly remembering that in the previous life, after my family went bankrupt, Liam had actually sought me out. He was still dressed in white, his short hair neat and clean, smiling cheerfully at me. “When Rose was washed ashore, she wasn’t suffering from amnesia at all. She even asked me to borrow my phone to call her fiancé.” “Unfortunately, some cargo happened to fall from a nearby freighter. She pulled me out of the way, but got hit herself. When she woke up, she had amnesia. I told her I saved her.” “Oh, and when you came looking for me with that photo, she was lying right there in my house.” He laughed, his expression innocent. “Felix, you and her were childhood sweethearts, and you had a well-matched engagement. This was a chance given to you by fate.” “Then her injury and amnesia, that was a chance given to me by fate.” And Rose, whether before or after regaining her memory, chose Liam. Just like now, she frowned slightly in dissatisfaction: “I chose to stay myself.” My friend paused, then explained with a smile: “We all understand what you mean, you don’t need to worry about the engagement.” “Everyone thought you were gone back then, and it’s been four years now.” “Your engagement with Felix was canceled long ago.” It was canceled the moment she was presumed dead. I had just stubbornly dragged it on for three years. But unlike the previous life, this time I hadn’t forcibly brought her back from the island. The private room was still lively. Holding my drink, I met Rose’s inexplicably probing gaze, curving my lips slightly, and calmly told her: “Yes, the engagement is off.” “Rose King, you’re free.” A few days after the welcome-back party, I went to King Group for a collaboration meeting. As I stepped out of the elevator, I saw her half-sister snatch a document from Rose’s hand, saying casually: “Sis, your leg isn’t healed yet. You should go to the hospital and rest. I’ve got things covered at the company.” “If Grandma saw you like this, she’d be heartbroken. She was waiting for you until her last breath.” Her tone held a hint of regret, yet also a subtle smile, as she said each word: “Sis, you came back too late.” Rose’s gaze was cold, and she scoffed: “What? Afraid I’ll come back and snatch your position?” Her sister shrugged indifferently, spreading her hands: “The position is right here. Whoever can grab it, gets it.” In truth, both women were equally capable. But since childhood, Grandmother King had doted on Rose the most; while she was alive, Rose was the undisputed heir. Now, however, she was gone, and Rose had been missing for four years. Times had changed, and anything was possible. I passed by them, remaining uninvolved, my gaze casually sweeping over Rose’s slightly limping right leg. In the previous life, after I forcibly brought her back, I spared no expense, consulting experts domestically and abroad, to cure her leg. The doctor had said then: “Any later, and bone necrosis would have been difficult to treat.” Now, she was standing here a year later. I wondered if it was too late. After finishing the meeting, as I left, I saw Rose downstairs. Her gaze fell directly on me; she was clearly waiting. “You knew all along?” I stopped, turned my head to look at her, and smiled frankly. “Yes, I knew all along.” “But I told you, Rose.” A year ago, when I found her on the island, I had repeated it many times. Her grandmother was critically ill, her sister would steal her rightful place, everyone was waiting for her to come home. But at the time, she had said to me, uncaring: “What does that have to do with me?” “Liam is the only one I care about.” Back then, she wouldn’t come back because she wanted to be with Liam. Now, she had returned, but it was to save Liam’s mother. I felt a little perplexed, wondering why she was now asking me with an accusing tone, so I gently reminded her: “Rose, you said it yourself, you didn’t care.” In the silent confrontation, she suddenly scoffed mockingly: “When you found me back then, you spoke of our feelings as if they were so profound, and now, barely a year later…” “Ha, Felix, your ‘love’ isn’t all that much either.” No sooner had she spoken than someone nearby suddenly called out: “Rose!” It was Liam. He jogged over to Rose’s side, looking at me somewhat nervously, then happily wrapped his arm around her, smiling: “My dad’s woken up! He said he’s really grateful to you.” Rose’s expression softened. Her gaze flickered over me, then she looked down at Liam, saying: “It was the least I could do, and besides, you saved me once too.” “I’ll go with you to the hospital to check on him again.” Liam’s smile abruptly stiffened. The evening sun was fading, and I had no interest in watching their display of profound affection. Before leaving, I simply threw out one last sentence, a reply to her: “Times change, and so do hearts.” My love wasn’t all that much. Then I wished them well. Liam’s father has already had his surgery and woken up. So, it won’t be long until her memories return…

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A decade ago, a blazing inferno swallowed everything. Kevin’s adopted sister, Seraphina, was lost in the flames trying to save me. After that, no matter how I pleaded or cried, I never saw a flicker of love in his eyes. Until one day, I stumbled upon a thick stack of love letters hidden away—each word overflowing with profound affection. The truth was laid bare. I finally understood the reason for his coldness. Just as I prepared to seek him out and apologize, news reached me: he’d been kidnapped. Bullets rained down around the scene. Without a second thought, I threw myself in front of him. Crimson stained my vision. For the first time, his perpetually indifferent face fractured. I raised a blood-soaked hand, trembling as I wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m sorry, Kevin. I was your burden. I destroyed your happiness.” “Loving you was my mistake.” Before consciousness faded, I heard his tormented scream. An endless bitterness seeped away with my life. This time, we were finally even. If there’s a next life, I wish only for you to find your heart’s desire. 1 The acrid smoke stung my eyes, blurring my vision with tears. Seraphina’s frantic cries echoed in my ears. It was a nightmare, yet I was on the verge of joyful tears. I had returned to the day of the fire. “Seraphina! Where are you?” Kevin’s voice was laced with desperate urgency. In my past life, his concern for her would have driven me to insane jealousy. But now, it was a sound of immense relief. I waved frantically, then, with a surge of adrenaline, shoved Seraphina into his arms just before a massive beam crashed down. His eyes widened in stunned disbelief as I leaped from the third floor. Even if it meant death, even as every nerve ending shrieked in agony, I embraced it. I woke up in a sterile hospital room. Kevin stood over me, his expression etched with profound disappointment. “Ivy. You’ve gone too far this time.” “Just because I didn’t accept your confession, you set Seraphina’s room on fire?” “If I hadn’t gotten there in time, both of you would have…” “I’m sorry.” My immediate, unwavering apology cut him off mid-sentence. His lips parted, then closed, unable to utter another word of accusation. Everyone knew Ivy Kingston, the spoiled heiress, never bowed her head. Not even after her parents’ death, not with Kevin, the rising star of the business world, constantly watching over her. I met his dark eyes, my voice steady. “I started the fire.” “And about my confession before… I was being foolish. Just pretend it never happened.” The fire had nothing to do with me in my previous life, but he hadn’t believed a single word I said then either. His heart was already set. Any struggle would be futile. Kevin rubbed his temples, his expression a complex mix of confusion and something I couldn’t quite decipher. “As long as you understand your mistake.” “And the confession…” “Mr. Pendleton, Miss Seraphina is awake and asking for you.” He shot up from his chair, rushing out of the room without a backward glance. In my last life, I had confessed my love to him just before the fire, pressing the jade pendant my mother had left me into his hand. He had panicked, his face a mask of repulsion. “I only see you as a sister. This… this disgusting infatuation ends now.” He fled, and my obsession deepened. But now, all that stubborn devotion, all the love and hate from a lifetime ago, had dissipated. I calmly peeled an orange, listening to the chaos from the room next door. “This water is too hot! Get her a cooler one!” “Is she really not burned? Check her again!” “Don’t cry, big brother’s here.” My glass sat empty on the bedside table, fresh blood seeping through the bandages on my arm. I popped an orange segment into my mouth. It was sour, bitter, but I knew I had to get used to it. Because the unloved only invite scorn when they show their pain. Kevin returned while the nurse was changing my dressings. I didn’t fuss or demand his attention as I used to, just let her do her work in silence. He took two steps forward, reaching out as if to steady my arm and inspect my injuries, but I subtly pulled away. “Kevin, I’m fine now. Go be with Seraphina.” He sighed, a weary sound. “Ivy, you’re both my sisters.” “I care for you both equally. Please don’t make things difficult for her, okay?” He thought I was still jealous, still fighting for his attention like a child. But this time, I was serious. I opened my palm, my expression earnest. “Can you please give me back the pendant I gave you?” “It was my mother’s last memento. It’s meant for my husband.” 2 The pendant dropped into my palm, stirring echoes of the past. My parents were always busy, rarely home. I was a frail, ill-tempered girl in my youth, completely friendless. Then my father brought Kevin home. The lonely, stubborn girl I was finally had a patient, gentle older brother. If I refused my medicine, he would coax me patiently, rewarding me with a piece of candy afterwards. If I threw a tantrum, he would gently stroke my hair and reason with me. The darkest nights were filled with his comforting voice. The dread of school vanished with him by my side. He even chose to save me over Seraphina in the face of death. That innate kindness, that inherent goodness, had led me to believe he loved me. But after Seraphina died, his smile vanished. He was alive, but his soul and all his love had been consumed by that fire. And I, too, had been reduced to ashes alongside him. Kevin held the pendant’s chain, his expression slightly uncomfortable. “Why don’t I hold onto it for you? You don’t have a special someone right now anyway.” “I do.” I looked at him, uttering a lie I barely believed myself. “Kevin, I only see you as family. From now on, you’ll only ever be my family.” The chain slipped through his fingers, and his face inexplicably darkened. But I knew it was all a facade. He was only acting out of duty and gratitude. After a long silence, Kevin nodded. “Perhaps that’s for the best.” “There’s one more thing. I’d like Seraphina to move in with us to recover.” “Can you let her have the master bedroom? She’s afraid of the dark.” The image of him leaving a nightlight on for me, staying by my side through the night, flashed vividly in my mind. Yet, in front of Seraphina, he seemed to forget all of it. I lowered my gaze. “Of course. I’ll move to the house on the west side of town.” “Miss Kingston, are you saying you don’t welcome me?” Seraphina walked in, her pale face artfully arranged in a look of fragile vulnerability. Kevin soothingly patted her shoulder. “She’s always been a bit spoiled, don’t mind her.” “You’re still recovering. I don’t feel comfortable with you not being close to me.” My hand instinctively clutched the bedsheet, then weakly released it. Never mind. I’ll just move out the moment I’m discharged. That way, I won’t bother them. Seeing me remain silent, Seraphina started to pout. “Big brother, I want to eat the pumpkin pancakes from the bakery downstairs.” Kevin nodded, his expression doting. “Alright, I’ll go get them for you now.” He turned to me. “Do you want anything?” I shook my head. “No, thank you.” Kevin glanced back at me, but said nothing more as he left. Once he was gone, the pitiful expression on Seraphina’s face twisted into one of pure disgust. “Ivy, you have absolutely no shame.” “Becoming my sister-in-law? Dream on.” I looked at her, my gaze momentarily distant. “I won’t bother him anymore.” “Who would believe that?” Seraphina sneered, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Tell me, if something were to happen to me, do you think my brother would still let you cling to him?” Footsteps sounded outside the door. Seraphina immediately swept a vase off the table. Glass shards scattered across the floor. She then deliberately fell to her knees amongst them. Crimson blood mingled with the broken glass, making the scene appear even more horrifying. Kevin burst into the room, his face contorted with rage. He slapped me hard across the face. “Ivy, I actually thought you had changed.” “You know she has an old leg injury. Why would you force her to this?” My cheek stung, but my heart felt a chilling emptiness. The last time he struck me was in my past life, after Seraphina died in the fire. I should have realized it long ago. I was just too foolish. Seraphina’s tears flowed freely, making her look utterly heartbroken. “It’s my fault, brother. I said something wrong, and Miss Kingston punished me.” Kevin scooped her into his arms, then cast a cold, furious look at me. “Ivy, you truly lack a proper upbringing. It’s time someone taught you a lesson.” The dull ache in my heart suddenly sharpened, becoming an unbearable pain. I stared, pale-faced, at his retreating back as he carried Seraphina away. I lowered my gaze, noticing the bag Kevin had dropped in his haste. Among the pile of pumpkin pancakes were two red bean buns, my favorite. I picked one up and put it in my mouth. It was already cold. Mixed with my tears, it held no sweetness at all. 3 Kevin was true to his word. The moment I was discharged from the hospital, he ordered me to kneel in the garden. The uneven flagstones dug painfully into my knees. I suddenly felt a sense of déjà vu. When I was a child and my father punished me with kneeling, Kevin would always stand defiantly in front of me, taking the punishment himself. He’d say that a girl’s knees were more delicate, prone to lasting injury. Back then, I believed he genuinely cared for me. Now, I understood. He was simply thinking of Seraphina. Seraphina, with her old leg injury. A long shadow fell over me, blocking the sunlight. Kevin stood there, his gaze complex, but his voice sharp with command. “Do you understand what you did wrong?” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “I was jealous of your feelings for Seraphina. I couldn’t stand her.” “You…” A flicker of panic crossed Kevin’s face, and he seemed about to speak. The nearby bushes rustled faintly. Seraphina, her eyes red, emerged from behind them and threw her arms around him. “Big brother, is what she said true?” I watched the struggle of love and pain on Kevin’s face. He pressed his lips into a tight line, then after a long moment, gently pushed her away. “Seraphina, let’s not talk about this right now, okay?” His tone was so incredibly gentle, as if he were handling a priceless treasure. Yet, when he spoke to me, his voice was always sharp and cutting. This was the difference between love and indifference. “Mr. Pendleton, the police have sent over the hospital surveillance footage.” “This time… Miss Kingston is innocent.” A flash of alarm crossed Seraphina’s face and vanished just as quickly. Kevin instinctively moved to shield her, then lowered his head to watch the video. His palm trembled slightly. He belatedly reached out to touch my face, but I calmly moved away. He retracted his hand, clenching it into a fist, his voice laced with apology. “Ivy, I apologize on Seraphina’s behalf. She’s just too dependent on me.” “Please, considering she has no parents…” He trailed off, seemingly remembering that I, too, was an orphan. I understood, really. He promised to spend every birthday with me but broke it because Seraphina wanted his homemade porridge. He promised to attend my graduation but left me staring at an empty seat the entire night because he was at Seraphina’s ceremony. He was allergic to pollen, so I removed every flower from our garden, planting only trees. Yet, he personally cultivated acres of rose gardens for Seraphina. That’s how favoritism works. In my last life, I clung to it fiercely, but it only brought us endless torment. Lost in thought for a moment, I spoke, my voice hoarse. “She’s just insecure. Her feelings for you are more than just dependence.” “She’s in love with you.” They loved each other, but the pressures of society held them back. So, I would be the one to push him. Kevin’s gaze darted away, filled with evasion. “I only see her as a sister.” Hearing his weak denial, I offered a self-deprecating smile. Compared to his fury and disappointment when I confessed, his reaction now was so raw, so genuine. I was about to say more, but he cut me off. “Don’t ever say such things again. It’s unfair to Seraphina.” Seraphina’s tears flowed freely. “Fine, then don’t ever come looking for me again!” She turned and ran off without a backward glance. Kevin rushed to follow her, but halfway, he seemed to remember something. “Ivy, this was my fault. I’ll make it up to you.” “Just name it, and I’ll agree.” Watching his retreating back, I let out a weak, bitter smile. The thing I wanted most, I would never get. So, I’d just have to find a little sweetness for my future. I typed a few words into my phone. “I want red bean buns.” In the evening, Kevin drove me to “Liu’s Pumpkin Pancake Shop.” The moment we stepped out of the car, a rich, sweet aroma wafted towards us. The owner’s cheerful voice boomed. “Fresh pumpkin pancakes! Buy eight, get two red bean buns free!” My steps faltered. I didn’t even react when Kevin pressed a bag of pastries into my hand. He waved his hand in front of my face. “What’s wrong?” I snapped out of my daze, offering a self-deprecating smile. “Nothing.” Just feeling incredibly foolish. Knowing the ending, having made my choice. Yet, every time a shard of glass caught the light, I still imagined it was candy. Swallowing it, I’d bleed. Kevin tore open the bag and offered me one. This time, the red bean bun was piping hot, and it wasn’t a freebie. But in my mouth, it still didn’t taste like what I truly wanted. After a long silence, I spoke. “There’s something else. I want to study abroad in Europe.” Kevin’s hands, gripping the steering wheel, whitened at the knuckles. He instinctively refused. “No!”

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On our anniversary, my wife’s “surprise” turned out to be a green hat—a symbol of ultimate betrayal. Laughter erupted around us, yet her voice was eerily calm. “I’m pregnant. The child isn’t yours.” Cole Penn smugly wrapped his arm around her waist, his eyes glinting with defiance. “You’re a cripple; you obviously can’t do the deed. Just be a good little cuckold.” But what they didn’t know was that I was only pretending to be paralyzed to unmask the mole within the corporation. The mole hadn’t revealed themselves yet. Instead, I’d stumbled upon two clueless fools. 1 I smirked coldly. Then I backhanded them with the bankruptcy liquidation papers for the Lennox family’s holdings. Cole picked up the papers, glanced at them, then burst into a thunderous laugh. “Leo Lutz, are you out of your mind? Did you pay a few bucks for some fake documents and hire some actors to try and scare us?” Charlotte Lennox recovered from her shock, let out a long breath, and patted her chest. “Leo Lutz, you are truly a pathetic clown.” Charlotte pointed her finger at my nose and unleashed a torrent of abuse. “You’re a useless cripple who’s been paralyzed for two years, needing help even to relieve yourself! Where did you get the money to hire bodyguards? Bankruptcy liquidation? Do you think you’re the wealthiest man in the city?” I watched them, saying nothing. The front door slammed open again with a loud crash. My uncle, Robert Lutz, stormed in with dozens of thugs wielding iron pipes. “Get these annoying people out of my house!” Uncle Robert’s men immediately moved, swinging their iron pipes at the bodyguards I’d hired. My bodyguards retreated, leaving only Uncle Robert, Charlotte, Cole, and me in the living room. “Leo Lutz, you disappoint me greatly.” Uncle Robert walked up to my wheelchair, looking down at me. “You’re not just a cripple, your mind’s gone too. How can the Lutz Corporation be handed over to someone like you?” “Uncle Robert, what do you mean?” I stared at him. “I declare your last five percent of Lutz Corporation shares null and void.” Uncle Robert pulled out a stock transfer agreement and slapped it on the table. “Sign it.” Charlotte snatched the transfer agreement and slapped it directly onto my lap. “Sign it now!” Charlotte hissed. “You’re nothing now. Just accept your fate. The Lutz Corporation already belongs to Uncle Robert and Cole!” Cole wrapped his arm around Charlotte’s waist and kissed her right in front of me. “Leo, Charlotte’s baby needs formula money.” Cole looked at me provocatively. “If you hand over your shares, I’ll be merciful and let you stay with the Lutz family like a dog. We’ll even give you scraps.” I clenched my fists, suppressing the murderous rage building inside me. The big fish behind Uncle Robert hadn’t surfaced yet. It wasn’t time to reel in the net. “I won’t sign.” I refused. Uncle Robert slapped me across the face, a sharp crack echoing in the room. “You refuse a toast and ask for a beating!” Uncle Robert roared. “Do you think you’re still the powerful Lutz heir? You’re nothing but trash who can’t even stand! I can crush you like an ant!” Charlotte stepped forward, grabbing my hair and yanking my head back. “Leo Lutz, don’t push your luck. If you sign, I might let you stay. If you don’t, I’ll throw you out onto the street right now and let you beg for food!” “You wouldn’t dare,” I stared at Charlotte. “Watch me!” Charlotte shoved me, and my wheelchair slid backward, hitting the wall. Cole walked over and kicked over my wheelchair. I fell to the ground, feigning immobility. “Leo, is the floor comfortable?” Cole stepped on the back of my hand, grinding his shoe onto my knuckles. I endured the pain, not making a sound. Uncle Robert knelt, forcing a pen into my hand. “Sign,” he said, pressing my head down onto the transfer agreement. “Otherwise, I’ll break your other leg and you won’t even be able to sit in a wheelchair.” I bit my lip, signing my name on the transfer agreement. Uncle Robert collected the document with satisfaction, laughing as he left. Charlotte kicked me, her high heel digging into my ribs. “Get back to your room,” Charlotte said with disgust. “Cole’s sleeping in the master bedroom tonight.” I crawled from the floor back into my wheelchair, turning the wheels to leave. I had to endure. Once Uncle Robert’s deal with the overseas capital was solidified, I would make them wish they were dead. In the middle of the night, Charlotte kicked open my bedroom door. In her hand, she held a dog bowl and a thick dog chain. “Leo Lutz, get out.” Charlotte threw the dog bowl on the floor, producing a grating sound. I looked at her. Cole emerged from behind her, holding a spiked leather whip. “Leo, the master bedroom bed is too soft; Charlotte can’t get comfortable,” Cole cracked the whip in the air, a sharp snap echoing. “We’ve decided to take over this spare bedroom too.” “This is my room.” I gripped the armrests of my wheelchair. “Not anymore.” Charlotte walked over, grabbed my collar, and dragged me out of the wheelchair. I fell to the floor, my shoulder hitting the nightstand. Cole walked over and roughly fastened the dog chain around my neck, clicking the lock. “From now on, you’ll sleep in the doghouse on the balcony.” Cole tightened the chain, choking me. “Charlotte’s golden retriever just died. You’ll make a perfect replacement. From now on, you’re our family dog.” I reached up to pull at the chain around my neck. Cole lashed my hand with the whip, leaving a bloody welt. “Don’t move,” Cole sneered. “A dog should know its place.” Charlotte kicked away my wheelchair, pointing towards the balcony. “Crawl.” Charlotte commanded. I gritted my teeth, staring at them. Footsteps shuffled outside the door. Charlotte’s parents walked in. Mrs. Lennox saw me on the floor and rushed over, stepping on my back. “You useless man!” Mrs. Lennox shrieked. “You wasted three years of my daughter’s youth, and now you dare to cling to our home! People like you should just die!” Mr. Lennox walked to the closet and began rummaging through it, throwing my clothes everywhere. He found a wooden box, his eyes lighting up. “What’s this?” Mr. Lennox opened the wooden box. Inside was my mother’s emerald jade bangle, a family heirloom. “Put that down!” I looked up, roaring. “Oh, quite feisty.” Mr. Lennox took out the bangle, weighing it in his hand. “The quality is excellent. Could fetch a few million. Consider it compensation for the emotional distress you’ve caused the Lennox family.” “That’s my mother’s keepsake.” I stared at Mr. Lennox. “Your mother’s long dead. This thing is just going to waste,” Mrs. Lennox snatched the bangle and slipped it onto her own wrist. “It perfectly matches my new outfit today. Do you, a cripple, deserve something so fine?” I propped myself up with my hands, but Cole kicked me in the head, pinning me back down onto the cold floor. “Leo, don’t get excited,” Cole said, pressing his foot hard against my face. “You’re a cripple. Do you really think you can hit anyone? Can you even stand up?” Charlotte walked over, knelt in front of me, and slapped my cheek. “Leo Lutz, don’t blame me for being cruel.” Charlotte sneered, “Blame yourself for being useless. Cole can give me the life I want. What can you give me? A paralyzed body? You can’t even satisfy me!” “You’ll regret this,” I stared into Charlotte’s eyes. “Regret?” Charlotte threw her head back and laughed. “The word ‘regret’ isn’t in my vocabulary, Charlotte Lennox! Go ahead and publicly announce that you acknowledge the child in my belly as yours, otherwise, I’ll smash your mother’s jade bangle right now!” Mrs. Lennox obligingly raised her wrist, feigning a move to strike it against the wall. I closed my eyes, concealing the surging murderous intent within. “Fine,” I gritted out the word. “That’s more like it,” Cole released his foot, clapping his hands. “Remember to put on a good show at the banquet tomorrow.” The Lennox family and Cole left the room, laughing. I lay on the cold floor, pulling off the dog chain from my neck. I took out the miniature communicator hidden in my cuff. “Mr. Lutz, your uncle has made contact with the overseas capital,” came the voice of my confidant, Ryan, through the communicator. “Keep a close eye on them,” I said in a low voice. “I want all their transaction records, not a single one missed.” “Understood. Do we need to deal with the Lennox family?” “No,” I sneered. “Let them jump around for a few more days.” I wanted them to climb to the highest point, then crash into a bloody pulp. Three days later, the Lennox family hosted a grand banquet at the city’s most luxurious hotel. Ostensibly to celebrate Charlotte’s pregnancy, it was actually to announce Cole taking over a key project for the Lutz Corporation. Charlotte threw a ridiculous clown costume at my face. “Put it on,” Charlotte commanded. I emotionlessly put on the clown costume. Charlotte then took out a green hat and placed it on my head. “A lot of media will be here today,” Charlotte warned me. “You stay quietly in your wheelchair, don’t say anything out of turn, and do whatever you’re told.” Cole wheeled me into the banquet hall. The hall was packed with the city’s elite and journalists, camera flashes going off everywhere. Seeing me in my outfit, everyone began to whisper and burst into laughter. “Is that Leo Lutz? Why is he dressed like that? He looks like a clown.” “I heard he’s not only paralyzed but couldn’t even keep his wife. He’s a complete disgrace to the Lutz family.” “The child in Charlotte’s belly isn’t his at all, and he still has to swallow his pride and acknowledge it. What a pathetic cuckold.” Cole wheeled me to the center of the stage, exposing me to everyone’s gaze. Charlotte, in a couture gown, walked onto the stage arm-in-arm with Cole. “Thank you all for attending my banquet.” Charlotte took the microphone. “Today, I have two joyful announcements. First, I am pregnant, and the child is Leo Lutz’s.” Sparse applause, accompanied by undisguised mockery, rippled through the audience. “Second, Cole Penn will officially take over the Lutz Corporation’s Southside Development Project.” The entire hall erupted in an uproar. The Southside project was the lifeblood of Lutz Corporation. How could it be handed over to an outsider? Uncle Robert Lutz walked onto the stage, took the microphone, his face flushed with triumph. “This is the decision of the Lutz Corporation’s board of directors.” Uncle Robert loudly announced, “Leo Lutz is unwell and unable to perform his duties. Cole Penn is young and promising, the best candidate. From now on, Lutz Corporation’s operations will be fully managed by Cole.” Journalists immediately aimed their cameras at me, microphones almost poking my face. “Mr. Lutz, what are your thoughts on this? Have your shares been stripped?” “Mr. Lutz, did you put on that green hat yourself? Do you know about Charlotte Lennox and Cole Penn’s relationship?” Charlotte walked off the stage and shoved the microphone to my mouth. “Speak,” Charlotte threatened in a low voice. “Say what we taught you.” I looked at Uncle Robert in the audience. Beside him stood a blond-haired, blue-eyed foreigner. That was Mr. Smith, the liaison for the overseas consortium. The big fish had finally appeared. I averted my gaze and spoke into the microphone. “I support the board’s decision,” my voice was calm. “The child is mine, and I look forward to his birth.” The entire hall erupted in deafening mockery. “What a pathetic cuckold! His wife sleeps with someone else and he helps count the money!” “The Lutz family is completely finished. Leo Lutz is an utter failure.” Cole smugly patted my shoulder and walked in front of me. “Everyone heard that, right?” Cole said loudly. “Leo is very generous. To thank him, I’ve decided to toast him.” Cole raised a glass of red wine and walked towards me. He suddenly “slipped,” splashing the entire glass of red wine all over my clown costume, letting it run down my face. “Oops, my bad, my hand slipped,” Cole feigned apology, his eyes full of malicious amusement. Charlotte picked up a basin of foul-smelling water and walked up to me. “No worries, a little wash will fix it,” Charlotte said, pouring the water over my head. The stench instantly permeated the air. People around us covered their noses and recoiled. Journalists frantically clicked their camera shutters, capturing my most humiliating moment. “Leo Lutz, drink it,” Cole pressed his foot on my wheelchair, lowering his voice. “Otherwise, I’ll have someone dig up your mother’s grave right now and scatter her ashes.” I looked up, staring at Cole. “You wouldn’t dare.” “Watch me.” Cole pulled out his phone and played a video. In the video, several men with shovels stood before my mother’s tombstone, their shovels already raised. I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms, drawing blood. Charlotte shoved the basin to my mouth. “Drink it!” Charlotte yelled. “Drink every last drop!” I opened my mouth and swallowed a mouthful of filthy water. The entire hall erupted in even wilder laughter and whistles. After the banquet, Cole threw me into the hotel’s underground parking garage like a piece of trash. Charlotte and Cole got into a car. “Let’s book a presidential suite at the hotel tonight to celebrate,” Cole said, his arm around Charlotte, his hand roaming inappropriately. “Why bring this useless man?” Charlotte looked at me with disgust. “He’s stinking and dirty.” “He’s still useful,” Cole sneered. “My sister’s eyes can’t wait. His corneas are a perfect match.” I looked up. They were planning to take my corneas. “Then hurry up and do it,” Charlotte urged. “His eyes sicken me. Dig them out and feed them to dogs as soon as possible.” Cole started the car and drove me to a secluded private hospital. Uncle Robert Lutz was already waiting outside the operating room. “Is the agreement ready?” Cole asked. “It’s ready,” Uncle Robert handed over a voluntary organ donation consent form. Cole dragged me from the wheelchair and threw me heavily onto the cold floor. “Sign it,” Cole shoved the pen into my hand. “Don’t make me do this by force.” I looked at Uncle Robert. “Uncle Robert, to seize power, you’d even gouge out your own nephew’s eyes?” I challenged. “You’re a cripple. What good are your eyes?” Uncle Robert showed no remorse. “Cole’s sister needs her sight. You’d be doing a good deed, making a contribution. Sign the papers, and I’ll leave you a complete body.” “I won’t sign.” I snapped the pen and threw it on the floor. Charlotte walked over and kicked me in the ribs, making me grunt in pain. “Do you think you have a choice?” Charlotte pulled out a sharp scalpel. “If you don’t sign, I’ll personally gouge them out right now! No anesthesia. I’ll make you suffer worse than death!” Uncle Robert waved his hand. Several burly men rushed over, forcibly lifted me, and strapped me to the operating table with thick leather straps. Cole took out his phone and started recording. “Leo, smile for the camera,” Cole aimed the phone at my face. “To prove you’re donating voluntarily.” Charlotte, holding the scalpel, slowly approached my eyes. The tip of the blade touched my eyelid, a cold sensation. “Leo Lutz, don’t blame me,” Charlotte sneered. “Blame your bad luck. In your next life, don’t be a cripple.” I closed my eyes. Faint footsteps sounded outside the operating room door. I opened my eyes, looking at Uncle Robert. “That foreigner, he’s Smith, isn’t he?” I suddenly asked. Uncle Robert’s face changed. He turned to look at me. “How do you know?” Uncle Robert asked, startled. “I also know you plan to package and sell the Southside project to Smith in exchange for a billion in overseas funds,” I said, my voice calm, as if discussing something unrelated to me. Uncle Robert rushed over, grabbing my collar. “Who told you?” Uncle Robert yelled. “What else do you know?” “Not only do I know that, I also know your overseas account has been frozen.” I looked into Uncle Robert’s eyes, enunciating each word. Cole put down his phone, frowning. “Uncle Robert, don’t listen to his nonsense. How could a paralyzed cripple know any of this?” Cole urged. “He’s just stalling for time. Charlotte, do it! Gouge out his eyeballs!” Charlotte raised the scalpel, aiming for my eyes.

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I just landed a billion-dollar deal for the company. My wife, the CEO, was overjoyed and promised to reward me with a house. She excitedly showed me a luxury villa she’d built for me in The Sims, complete with a digital ocean view. “Move in here for now,” she said, promising to build the real thing once profits doubled. Later, I stumbled upon a post by her male assistant—a photo of a $30 million beachfront estate, captioned: “A gift from my boss. Real love means exclusive pampering.” Suddenly, it all made sense. Money wasn’t the issue; I just wasn’t worth it to her. Without a word, I quietly liked the post. Within minutes, the comments exploded. My wife called, frantic, claiming the estate was just a “corporate incentive” to motivate the team. She begged me to undo the like, dismiss the rumors, and even promised we could try for a baby this year. But I’d had enough of her empty promises. “Save the excuses,” I told her. “I want a divorce.” 1 The moment the words left my mouth, Victoria’s tone shifted from panicked to bitterly annoyed. “I am literally just trying to incentivize my employees. Half of this company belongs to you, so I’m doing this for our future!” She let out a harsh breath. “If you don’t want to appreciate my hard work, fine. But don’t you dare joke about divorce. Marriage is not a game, Earl. Consider this your first and last warning.” “I gave you the chance to fix this mess, and you refused. So don’t blame me when I stop protecting your reputation.” She hung up on me, the line clicking dead in my ear. Standing in the long queue at the City Hall courthouse, I let out a long, heavy sigh. She didn’t get it. I was just so unbelievably tired. This time, the word ‘divorce’ was not a threat. It was a promise. The line was moving agonizingly slow. Clutching my ticket number, I mindlessly scrolled through my phone. Underneath Oliver’s Instagram post, the comment thread was turning into a warzone. Most of it was my own project team, furiously defending me. “Stealing another man’s wife? Raised with great morals, I see. Teach me how to be a professional sugar baby, will you?” “Preach. Working overtime means nothing compared to having a sweet mouth. Zero actual skills but skyrocketing up the corporate ladder. Wish I figured out the cheat code sooner.” The passive-aggressive shade was endless. No wonder Victoria couldn’t hold back and called to threaten me into doing damage control. Her precious boy toy was getting ripped to shreds online. But my team was only spitting facts. Aside from his pretty face and boyish charm, Oliver was utterly useless. Yet, Victoria had personally tossed out resumes from Harvard and Yale graduates, breaking every company protocol to hire a kid who barely scraped through a community college. When the rumors first started flying and the office morale tanked, I had gone to her, genuinely asking for her reasoning. She had looked at me with deep disappointment. “Earl, I thought of all people, you would understand me. Instead, you’re being an elitist snob just like the rest of the board. Have you forgotten our core values? We built this firm to give everyone an equal shot, especially young people who just need a chance to prove themselves.” Like a fool, I believed her. I actually felt deeply ashamed of my own prejudice. I immediately told HR to stop filtering by degrees and start hiring based on raw talent and drive. A week later, HR hired a decent applicant from a lesser-known state school. Victoria dragged the HR director into her office and screamed at him for three hours straight. “Do we look like a charity? Since when do we let community college trash walk through our front doors? If you can’t handle a simple hiring process, pack your desk and get the hell out.” That was when I learned that her so-called ‘equal opportunity’ applied exclusively to Oliver. My phone buzzed. A message from my lead developer popped up on the screen. “Don’t be sad, Chief. We’re tearing him apart for you.” Looking at the flood of goofy, supportive memes in our group chat, the tight knot in my chest loosened a fraction. I was just typing out a message, telling them to ease up before they got in trouble, when a company-wide email notification dropped from Victoria. “Any employee caught slacking off on social media during business hours will have their monthly salary halved and all performance bonuses revoked. A second offense will result in immediate termination.” Attached was a penalty list. I scrolled through it and barked out a dry, humorless laugh. Every single employee who had liked or left positive comments on Oliver’s post was completely ignored. The only people fined were my team members. Instantly, my phone blew up. The group chat descended into pure chaos. “She is taking this way too far! This isn’t about enforcing rules, she is straight-up targeting the Chief!” “Chief, are you thinking about starting your own firm? Or jumping ship?” “Wherever you go, we follow!” Seeing their righteous anger, a wave of guilt washed over me. After seven years of marriage, Victoria knew me inside and out. She knew my biggest weakness was my fierce loyalty to my people. So, whenever I stepped out of line, whenever I didn’t bow down to her whims, she made my team’s lives a living hell. I had swallowed my pride and endured it time and time again. But today, the well of my patience had completely run dry. I dialed a number I had ignored for months. The voice on the other end answered on the second ring, practically vibrating with excitement. “Earl! Tell me you’ve finally seen the light and you’re coming to join us. We have an executive suite waiting for you!” “I have one condition,” I said quietly. “Name it. One, ten, a hundred conditions, whatever you want. The board will approve it.” “I’m bringing my entire team with me.” The man gasped in pure delight. “Are you kidding me? I’ll have the contracts drafted in ten minutes. I’ll double whatever they’re making right now. No, triple it!” My department had always been the top-earning division in our industry. Yet, because of my turbulent relationship with my wife, they were constantly denied promotions, used as leverage to keep me on a tight leash. Not anymore. By the time I finished securing their futures, my number was called. I walked up to the glass window and slid the divorce application forward. It had been seven years. Victoria had probably forgotten entirely. Back when we were desperately in love and dirt poor, we had signed a mutual separation clause. We promised each other an easy out, vowing that if we ever turned toxic, we would let the other go without a legal bloodbath. We both cried that night, swearing we would never need to use that piece of paper. Yet here I was, cashing it in. The clerk looked at the forms, then at me. “Sir, I still need confirmation from your spouse that the marriage is irretrievably broken before I can process the fast-track paperwork.” Sighing, I called Victoria. She forwarded it straight to voicemail. Again and again. Ten minutes ticked by. The people behind me were starting to grumble. Even the clerk was giving me a weary, impatient look. Having no other choice, I pulled up Oliver’s Instagram. Unsurprisingly, he had just posted a live story. Victoria was in his kitchen, wearing an apron over her designer dress, smiling brightly as she cooked him lunch. I swiped to the next slide, showing the clerk the massive pile of luxury watches, limited-edition sneakers, and the thirty-million-dollar real estate deed Victoria had gifted him. The annoyance in the clerk’s eyes instantly melted into deep, uncomfortable pity. She stopped asking questions. “The paperwork will be processed. You can come back tomorrow to pick up your finalized divorce certificate.” “Thank you.” I let out a breath I felt like I had been holding for years and walked out into the crisp afternoon air. Just as I reached my car, Victoria finally called back. 2 “Are you starting to panic now?” her voice dripped with arrogant condescension. “I tried to talk sense into you, but you wouldn’t listen. I am absolutely furious right now, so whatever pathetic apology you have prepared, save it. I have to work late tonight, so I won’t be coming home. Take the night to seriously reflect on your behavior.” Before she could hang up, I clearly heard Oliver’s voice whining in the background. “Victoria, which suit should I wear for my birthday dinner tonight?” The line abruptly cut off. Today wasn’t my birthday. It wasn’t hers either. It was Oliver’s. Working late? Just another garbage excuse to throw her boy toy a lavish party. Victoria grew up in a severely abusive household. Birthdays were a source of deep psychological trauma for her. To protect her peace, I had never celebrated my own birthday in seven years, just to avoid triggering her memories. But for Oliver, she was willing to break all her own rules. I guess love really was a miracle cure. Pushing the bitter taste down, I drove straight to a high-end steakhouse to meet my team and the reps from the new company. Once the massive compensation packages were signed and sealed, the tension broke. My guys surrounded me, patting my back, offering a mix of sympathy and relief. “Chief, listen to us. A wife whose heart belongs in someone else’s pocket is dead weight. You’re dodging a bullet.” I offered a quiet, self-deprecating smile. My mind briefly drifted to the first time I met Victoria. She was wearing a faded cotton dress, standing awkwardly in a crowded room, so painfully shy she couldn’t even maintain eye contact. Now, she lied with the ease of breathing, carving me hollow without a second thought. But hadn’t I created this monster? In the beginning, I loved her so fiercely that no matter how terribly she messed up, a single tear from her was enough to make me forgive her. She learned quickly that I had no boundaries. So she started pushing them. When she made a mistake, she offered a half-hearted apology. If I didn’t instantly cave, she would sabotage my work until I submitted. It escalated over the years until she crossed lines I never thought possible. I handed her the knife, over and over, hoping each time would be the last. I was such an idiot. Shaking my head, I raised my glass. “Drinks are on me tonight. We don’t stop until the bar runs dry!” The table erupted in cheers. We drank, laughed, and trashed the corporate world until the sun began to peek over the horizon. Exhausted, smelling like a brewery, I unlocked the front door of my house, expecting the cold emptiness of an empty home. Instead, I found Victoria sitting stiffly on the living room sofa. She had been waiting all night. As soon as the smell of liquor hit her, her face contorted in deep disgust. She backed away instantly. “I told you I despise the smell of alcohol! Why did you drink so much? Do my words mean absolutely nothing to you?” Hearing her shriek, I couldn’t help but laugh. Because she casually mentioned she hated the smell of alcohol, I had been completely sober for seven years. But what was the reality? Just last month, Oliver had sent me a video, intentionally trying to provoke me. He was completely wasted, slurring his words, looking up at the camera with puppy-dog eyes. “I’m sorry, Victoria. I know you hate drunks. I’ll never do it again.” And Victoria? She had cradled his flushed face in her hands, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “Silly boy. Drink as much as you want. I don’t hate alcohol, I just hate having to clean up after sloppy men.” Then, right on camera, Oliver gagged, and she literally caught his vomit with her bare hands. “But for you? I’d do anything.” The memory made my stomach churn. I slapped her hand away as she reached for my coat. “Didn’t you say you weren’t coming home?” Victoria glared at me, tossing a thick blanket at my chest. “I was worried about you being alone and depressed! And look at you, out partying without even giving me a call. And to think I went out of my way to pack up your favorite dishes from the restaurant.” In the past, I lived in constant fear for her safety. Even in the middle of a screaming match, if she didn’t text me back within an hour, I would be calling hospitals. This time, I hadn’t checked in on her for twenty-four hours. The silence probably spooked her enough to bring her home. I glanced at the takeout containers on the counter. Prime rib, lobster bisque. My favorites. I didn’t touch them. A slap to the face, followed by a piece of candy. It was her classic manipulation tactic. I wasn’t biting anymore. Victoria, completely oblivious to my deadened eyes, assumed her little peace offering had worked its magic like it always did. Her expression softened into a magnanimous mask. “Alright, arguing is exhausting. Let’s compromise.” “I’ll forgive you for framing Oliver and making him feel bullied today. But in exchange, you need to hand your current account over to him.” “His sales numbers have been dropping, and he needs a win. If you hadn’t been constantly suppressing his potential, he wouldn’t be struggling right now. Behave, do this favor for me, and I’ll lift the penalties on your team tomorrow morning.” Everything suddenly made sense. The early return. The favorite food. The blanket. It was all for Oliver. Her devotion to that boy was honestly staggering. To secure him a win, she was willing to put her pride aside and play house with me in the middle of a cold war. I let out a dry chuckle. “Sure.” The corner of Victoria’s lips curled up in a victorious smirk. She wasn’t surprised by my surrender. This play had run a hundred times before. “Next time, think before you act. If you hadn’t been so petty and liked his post, inciting your team to cyberbully him, we wouldn’t have had this fight in the first place.” “But whatever, it’s in the past. Go to the office and handle the handover paperwork.” I reached into my pocket, pulled out my heavy silver Director’s badge, and tossed it onto the coffee table with a clatter. “Why stop at just one account? Give him my title, too.” 3 Victoria froze, her smile slipping. “What is that supposed to mean?” “He’s so incredibly talented, right? He deserves the corner office.” Her face darkened, frustration practically radiating off her. “I am trying to have a civilized conversation with you, and you’re throwing another childish tantrum?” If I refused to give up the account, I was a jealous bully targeting her assistant. If I gave him my entire career, I was throwing a tantrum. There was no winning with this woman. And I was done playing the game. Seeing me standing there in silence, Victoria rubbed her temples, looking supremely inconvenienced. “Is this about that stupid house? Fine, I’ll buy you a real one tomorrow, okay?” “I swear to God, you are a grown man. Holding a grudge over something so trivial is pathetic.” Even now, she genuinely believed I was throwing away our marriage over a piece of real estate. “Don’t bother,” I said softly. “Save your money. Oliver is going to need it.” Victoria’s eyes flashed with absolute fury. She grabbed a throw pillow and hurled it at my face. “I have told you a thousand times! Oliver and I have a strictly professional mentor-mentee relationship. Why is your mind so filthy?” Everyone else in the building called him the intern or the assistant. She was the only one who purred his first name like a lover. It was insulting that she still thought I was blind. “You know exactly what you two are doing.” Her face flushed a mottled red, and she began to scream. “If that’s how you really feel, then give me my gaming account back! I stayed up for three nights straight building that digital villa, placing every brick. You don’t deserve to look at it!” She lunged at me, trying to snatch my phone from my pocket. I easily stepped aside, unlocked my screen, and showed her the automated text message. Your account deletion request has been processed successfully. “You think I care about a fake house in a video game?” “The account is permanently deleted. The game is off my phone. Are we clear?” Victoria stared at the screen, genuinely wounded. Her hands flew up, wildly slapping at my chest and shoulders. “You are a heartless bastard!” Screaming a few more curses, she grabbed her purse and stormed out, slamming the front door so hard the walls shook. In the old days, I would have chased her down the street. I could never let her be alone in the dark when she was upset. Tonight, I locked the deadbolt, took a hot shower, crashed into bed, and slept like the dead. When I woke up the next morning, my phone was blowing up again. This time, the punishment didn’t fall on my team. It landed squarely on me. An office-wide memo had been sent out. “Since a certain someone feels they are unfit to hold the position of Director, I am officially granting their request for demotion.” Anyone who had dared to speak up for me previously had already been heavily fined. Today, the entire company was dead silent. I didn’t care. I got dressed, met my team in the lobby, and walked straight into the HR department to hand over twenty resignation letters. The HR Director looked like she was about to have a heart attack. Her hands shook violently as she dialed Victoria. “Ms. Sinclair, the entire prime division… they’re resigning…” Through the speaker, the first voice we heard wasn’t Victoria’s. It was Oliver’s smooth, arrogant drawl. “Victoria, if it’s an emergency, you can go back to the office. I can watch the movie alone.” “Absolutely not,” Victoria replied, her voice sickeningly sweet. “You’ve been so stressed lately, and I promised you a break. I never break my promises to you.” Then, the phone shifted, and her voice turned into a venomous hiss. “Are you completely incompetent? You’re bothering me over some petty resignations? What exactly am I paying you for?” “But… Ms. Sinclair, it’s—” “But nothing! My signature stamp is in the top drawer of my desk. Stamp whatever they gave you and stop ruining my day!” The line went dead. The HR Director’s eyes filled with panicked tears. Having no authorization to stop us, she numbly processed our severances. By the time we packed our boxes, the office gossip mill had spun the story into a new shape: we hadn’t quit, Victoria had fired us. One of Oliver’s loyal lapdogs leaned against a cubicle, smirking as I carried my box past him. He raised his voice so the whole floor could hear. “Talent doesn’t mean jack if you can’t keep the CEO happy.” “Who cares who was here first? In the game of love, the one who isn’t loved is just an embarrassment!” They were laughing, loudly insulting me to my face. My guys dropped their boxes, rolling up their sleeves, ready to turn the office into a boxing ring. I held up a hand, stopping them. I looked right at the lapdog and offered him a bright, genuine smile. “You’re absolutely right. I sincerely hope your significant others all find their true soulmates.” Leaving them choking on their own malice, I walked out of the building with my team. I took a detour to City Hall. Sitting in the passenger seat of my developer’s car, I stared down at the crisp, legally binding divorce certificate in my hand. I started laughing. “I’m in a great mood today. Pick the most expensive restaurant in the city. It’s on me.” The guys cheered in the backseat, immediately arguing violently over whether we should get dry-aged steaks or a king crab banquet. I leaned against the window, quietly scrolling through my phone, letting their bickering wash over me. Suddenly, the car went dead silent. Someone tugged sharply on my sleeve. “Chief. Look over there.” I looked up, following his pointing finger out the window.

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Sorting through my husband’s suit pockets, two identical receipts for designer cologne slipped out. It was from the bespoke brand I frequented, and for a moment, I thought it was a surprise he’d planned for me. Then his new assistant walked past, and the sharp scent of fir instantly jolted my memory. “Mr. Brown actually gifted you such an expensive cologne?” I asked, feigning casualness, watching her blush and deny buying it herself. But on her earlobe dangled a pearl stud identical to mine, and the silver bracelet on her wrist was an exact match. Even the trench coat she wore was a limited edition I’d just bought last month. My gaze drifted to the floor under her desk, where a men’s underwear package was half-hidden. I smiled, patting her shoulder with a light, admiring tone. “Your taste is really something.” “You even know my husband’s favorite brand of underwear?” I lowered my voice on the last part, making it a whisper. 1 Elara’s face went white. She instinctively kicked the paper bag further under her desk. I smoothed my cuff, then took out the receipt I’d kept in my bag and gently laid it on her workstation. “Two identical receipts. One is mine. Where’s the other one?” Her lips trembled. She started to speak, then swallowed the words. The office door swung open. Aidan Brown walked in, carrying the crisp chill of the outside. He glanced at me, his eyes softening almost imperceptibly, a familiar gesture. But when his gaze shifted to Elara, it held a flicker of apprehension. Elara’s tears came quickly, perfectly timed. Her voice wavered as she curtsied to Aidan. “Mr. Brown, Professor Grey might be mistaken. I honestly didn’t know I was using the same cologne as her.” With one sentence, she absolved herself completely, and in the same breath, painted me as irrational. I looked at Aidan, waiting for his response. He stepped past me, slamming a file onto the desk. “Molly, stop this. She’s just a kid fresh out of college. Why are you making a fuss over her?” My head buzzed. For five years, he had never once publicly embarrassed me. Today, for an assistant, he told me to “stop making a fuss.” I stared into his eyes for three seconds. I knew those eyes so well. They had sparkled goofily on our first date, turned red as a rabbit’s on our wedding day. Now, they were empty, a blank slate. I placed the receipt in front of him. “Two identical colognes. One is on my vanity, one is on her. Explain.” Aidan didn’t even spare it a glance. “The company is testing client scent sensitivity. I had her buy it as a sample. What are you imagining?” He took a step forward, his hand moving to my waist out of habit. I shifted half a step to the side. His hand met empty air. From an angle he couldn’t see, Elara raised her hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The pearl stud was revealed. It was a design I had drawn myself, custom-made. There was only one pair in the world. She wore an identical one. She looked at me, a faint, fleeting curve to her lips. Then it was gone. My stomach churned. Not because of her, but because I remembered. That winter, during my junior year of college, it was ten degrees below freezing. Aidan had stood in the snow for three hours to find a fresh fir branch for my bookmark. His lips were purple with cold, but he smiled as he handed it to me. “My Molly, you deserve the purest scent.” Now that scent clung to a human copy machine, complete with matching earrings, bracelet, and trench coat. I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked to the door. Aidan called out my name. “Molly.” I stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Aidan, you always touch your watch with your left hand when you lie. Your tells, you can’t get rid of them.” Behind me, the silence was deafening. As I stepped into the elevator, the metal doors slowly closed. In that final shrinking sliver of a gap, I saw Aidan grab Elara by the back of her neck. There was no tenderness, no affection. Only a brutal, almost crushing malice. And Elara didn’t struggle; she instinctively shielded her head and face, as if accustomed to it. Was he feeling guilty? But what about the cologne, the receipts? The elevator doors shut. I stood inside alone, my mind a swirling mess. Back home, I knelt in the entryway to change my shoes. On the bottom shelf of the shoe rack, a pair of silk slippers, pale pink, size 6, caught my eye. I wore a size 8. I stared at them for a long time, until my knees ached, then stood up. I picked them up and examined the soles—faintly worn. They’d been used. Aidan returned late that night, reeking of alcohol. He was a different man from the daytime. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist from behind, burying his face in my neck. “Molly, never look at me like that again.” When he kissed me, I smelled alcohol mixed with the cloying sweetness of hand lotion. My stomach convulsed violently. I shoved him away and rushed to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the toilet. Nothing came up but bitter bile. A loud crash echoed from outside the door. He’d kicked and shattered the floor vase in the hallway. Shards of porcelain cut his ankle, blood flowing onto the floor. He stood in the bathroom doorway, his eyes shifting from adoration to a kind of savage fury I’d never seen. But he didn’t come in. He just stared at my back for half a minute, then turned and walked away. The next day, after teaching my university class, I went to the underground parking garage to get my car. Aidan’s Mercedes was in my parking spot, the driver’s door open. Stepping out was Elara, wearing a camel knit sweater identical to mine. She showed no panic at seeing me. She pulled a car key from her bag, her voice soft and timid. “Professor Grey, Mr. Brown said you don’t like driving this car and it was a shame for it to collect dust, so he lent it to me.” My car, my cologne, my earrings, my clothes. Was he going to move my husband out next? I said nothing, walked to the passenger side, and took out my key. From the front of the car to the back, I scratched a deep, white line. Elara’s face turned ashen. “Professor Grey…” “I don’t care about my trash. It shouldn’t bother you if it’s scratched, right?” The facade on her face cracked, a glint of malice flashing in her eyes. Her phone rang. She answered, instantly switching to a tearful voice. “Mr. Brown, Professor Grey seems very upset…” The call was on speaker. Aidan’s voice came through, utterly devoid of warmth. “Let her smash the car if she wants. What right do you have to upset her? Get back to the office.” I listened, feeling no triumph. Because I remembered a time, years ago, when I’d accidentally scraped this car, too scared to say anything. Aidan had flown back overnight from out of town. His eyes were bloodshot as he held me, checking me from head to toe. “Are you okay?” That kind of favoritism was pure. What was it now? A scoff came from my left. Dr. Ashton Hayes leaned against a pillar nearby, twirling his car keys, having watched the entire scene unfold. He walked over, handing me a wet wipe. “Wipe your hands.” I took it, cleaning the car paint residue from my fingers. “Dr. Hayes, you’re unusually quiet today.” “Because you wouldn’t like what I have to say.” He pulled out his phone, showing me a screenshot. A bank transfer record. Aidan had discreetly deposited three million dollars into Elara’s family account in multiple transfers. My hand holding the phone was steady. My heart rate was calm. Only the numbers on the screen blurred for a moment. Ashton offered no comfort. “Does this hurt already? Molly Grey, your supposedly brilliant mind is completely useless when it comes to judging men.” That evening, I returned home with the transfer record. Aidan had just gotten out of the shower, his hand, wiping his hair with a towel, paused. Then he tossed the towel onto the sofa. “What did you dig up now?” I turned the phone screen towards him. “Three million. Elara.” He didn’t even lift an eyelid. “Business operation. Some accounts can’t go through the company’s official channels. She’s just a proxy. Is it interesting to investigate so thoroughly?” “A proxy?” I laughed. “What kind of proxy needs to wear my clothes, use my cologne, mimic my hairstyle?” “Aidan, do you think I’m so dumb from studying that I can’t see through your pathetic little ‘training’ game?” His expression changed. He lunged, closing the distance between us, and gripped my jaw with one hand. The bloodshot veins in his eyes were terrifyingly dense. “Do you think I want to see her wear your things?” “Molly, don’t push me. Don’t look into this anymore.” I pried his fingers off, leaving a red mark on my jaw. “When you choked me, and when you choked the back of her neck, was it the same hand?” His hand froze in mid-air, unable to retreat for a long moment. Three days later. Our fifth wedding anniversary. I booked a table at the French restaurant where we first met, and wore the white dress he loved. I was seated at eight, and waited until midnight. The waiter refilled my water five times, his expression shifting from eager to sympathetic. He never called. On the way home, my stomach problem flared up. The pain was so intense I couldn’t straighten up. I hailed a cab and went to the nearest emergency room. Pushing the IV pole, I shuffled to the end of the corridor, where the VIP room door was ajar. The blinds weren’t fully closed. Aidan stood by the bed, Elara propped against the headboard, her face pale. His back was to me, and he was spoon-feeding her hot soup, blowing on each spoonful to cool it before bringing it to her lips. “Eat. If you don’t, I’ll force it down.” Elara seemed terrified of displeasing him, swallowing the scalding soup with effort. What truly broke me was Elara’s hair. She’d just had it cut, the length and curve an exact match to mine. By the pillow on the bed lay a rare poetry collection by Neruda. I’d taught from it in class last week; it was a version sold by only one online retailer. Through the crack in the blinds, she saw me. She didn’t hide. Instead, she grabbed Aidan’s sleeve, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “Aidan, Professor Grey has a sensitive stomach. If you stay with me tonight, will she be upset?” Aidan’s back stiffened for a second. He put down the soup bowl, his voice cold and irritable. “Don’t mention her. She’s too aloof. She’d rather suffer in silence than make a fuss, unlike you who knows how to charm.” Too aloof. She’d rather suffer in silence. He knew I was in pain. He just thought my pain didn’t require his attention. Because I was the one who wouldn’t trouble him. My stomach spasmed violently, cold sweat trickling down my forehead. I slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor. Only then did I notice the white dress was stained by the wheels of the IV pole. His favorite white dress, the one I’d worn specially for our anniversary. I couldn’t smile. Suddenly, a pair of hands scooped me up from the ground. Ashton, on his night shift, carried me in his arms and rushed towards the emergency room. As we passed the VIP room. He gritted his teeth, uttering only two words. “Bastard.” There was a commotion in the room, and Aidan snapped his head around. But Elara was quicker. She ripped the IV needle from the back of her hand, blood splattering the sheets, and wrapped her legs around his, sobbing hysterically. “Aidan, don’t go! What will I do if you leave?” His feet froze. He looked across the hallway at me, his eyes filled with a struggle, and pain. But he didn’t take that step. The emergency room door closed. I thought I heard him call my name, but it might have been a hallucination. It didn’t matter anymore. When I woke up. Zero missed calls, zero messages on my phone. Ashton pushed the door open. He held a few photocopied sheets. “Molly Grey, your husband is seriously ill.” He pulled a chair to my bedside and sat down. I leaned against the headboard, silent. He placed the photocopies on the table. “I had a contact look at Elara’s scans.” “Cracked ribs and old fractures. These are all signs of being beaten.” “Last night, by the emergency room door, her instinctive reaction to flinch and pull back her neck. Only someone who has been repeatedly hit develops that kind of muscle memory.” My mind reeled. “He doesn’t love Elara?” “Love? No way. He just uses her as an outlet. This is paranoid control, a twisted psychology with object transference.” “He feared his inherent brutality would destroy you, so he found a substitute. He vents his twisted desires on someone else, then cleans himself up to come back to you.” I stared at the scans, a chill creeping up my spine. “But he not only gave her money, he bought her so much jewelry.” “Even a dog needs to be fed, Molly. For five years, you were pampered and never wronged, all because someone else took the hits for you.” “Are you really going to keep accepting this kind of love, stained with someone else’s blood?” I looked at the words on the report, a wave of nausea washing over me. Three days later, Aidan arrived. He was taking me to a business dinner. Impeccably suited, he put his arm around my waist. Less than half an hour later, Elara appeared, as the companion of a business partner. When she smiled, she tilted her head slightly, lightly touching her earlobe with her right hand. My habitual gesture, perfectly mimicked. The wives around us started whispering. “Did you see that?” “That young lady isn’t an exact replica of Mrs. Brown, but she’s at least seventy percent similar.” “Mr. Brown must adore his wife, even his mistress is cut from the same cloth.” My hand, holding the wine glass, trembled slightly. That feeling of being stripped bare in public was a thousand times more disgusting than being betrayed. A tipsy businessman stumbled over, his hand reaching for Elara’s waist. Aidan’s face changed in a split second. He kicked over a chair, grabbed a bottle of red wine, and smashed it on the table. Glass shards flew everywhere. A piece of shrapnel flew up and grazed my cheek, blood trickling down my chin. Aidan didn’t look at me. His eyes were entirely on Elara, who was cowering behind him, trembling. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” His voice was filled with frantic concern. I stood in the center of the mess, blood on my face, being gawked at by everyone. Elara, buried in his chest, looked over his shoulder at me. She smiled, a fleeting, almost imperceptible curve of the lips. Molly Grey, university lecturer, the biggest joke at this dinner party. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and slowly wiped the blood from my face. Then I picked up a glass of ice water from the table and walked towards them. Aidan finally snapped back to reality. His gaze fell on my face, his pupils constricting. “Molly, your face…” He panicked, reaching out to touch me. I swung my arm, splashing the entire glass of ice water in his face. Droplets ran down his brow and nose. The whole room fell silent. I heard my own voice, chillingly calm. “Aidan, you utterly disgust me.” “Tomorrow morning at ten, meet me at the courthouse for the divorce. Don’t be late.”

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