Category: English

My fiancé gained ten pounds before our wedding physical. I broke up with him on the spot. He rubbed his temples, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Is my appearance really that important to you? I can lose the weight, Amrita. I promise.” I just shook my head. “No, it’s not that,” I said, my voice steady. “At your last check-up, you were diagnosed with fatty liver disease. For your health, you promised me you’d eat clean.” I calmly held up my phone, showing him the screenshot. A private Instagram story he’d hidden from me. The background was our newly renovated condo, the one we were supposed to move into after the wedding. In the photo, a delicate hand with a perfect manicure was placing a box of beef into a bubbling hot pot for him. “I’m the one eating boiled vegetables and chicken breast with you every night,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “So who’s the girl treating you to hot pot, barbecue, and pizza?” 1 The color drained from Allen’s face. “Amrita, listen to me, I can explain…” Before he could get the words out, his phone buzzed on the table. It had been doing that at the same time every day for weeks. I’d always assumed it was work. Now I knew better. I didn’t even look up. “Put it on speaker.” The phone rang for a full thirty seconds, a shrill, insistent sound in the tense silence. Finally, he swiped to answer, his thumb hovering over the speaker icon before pressing down. “Allen, honey,” a sweet voice cooed from the speaker. “I made that spicy poached fish you love. When are you coming over?” A cold sweat broke out on Allen’s forehead, his lips trembling. He finally managed to choke out a single sentence. “I’m not coming.” Then he scrambled to hang up. But it was too late. I recognized that voice. It belonged to his ex-girlfriend of ten years, Isabelle. A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “After all this time. Of course, it’s still her.” I snatched my car keys from the table and walked toward the door. “Come on,” I said, looking back at him. “Let’s go have some of that fish, shall we?” The drive to our—to my—condo took twenty minutes. The renovations had just been finished last month. I’m a sentimental person; I wanted to wait until we were officially married to spend our first night there together. The bed, a custom piece I’d designed myself, had cost me over ten thousand dollars. I’d never even laid down on it. But apparently, another woman had. A wave of nausea washed over me. I felt sick. “Amrita… Isabelle just got laid off, and her landlord scammed her out of her deposit. She had nowhere else to go. She called me, crying… We all went to college together, you know? I was just letting her crash for a few days…” He kept rambling, his excuses a meaningless buzz in my ear as we waited for the elevator. I tuned him out. The moment I opened the door, a sharp pain lanced through my chest, even though I thought I was prepared. I’d been so busy with work, and Allen had insisted the paint fumes were still too strong, that I hadn’t been back to see the place. I didn’t recognize it. A fluffy pink throw was draped over the sofa. A bouquet of yellow roses and baby’s breath sat on the coffee table. The kitchen was fully stocked, and a clay pot on the stove was simmering, sending fragrant steam into the air. It felt like a giant hand was squeezing my throat, cutting off my air. “Woof! Woof!” A small Pomeranian scampered out of the bedroom, followed closely by Isabelle. The two of them, woman and dog, looked more like they belonged here than I ever would. The sheer audacity of it all made me want to laugh. Isabelle wrung her hands, the picture of innocence. “Amrita, I’m so sorry. I’m in a really tough spot. I’ll move out as soon as I find a place.” Before I could say a word, Allen exploded. “Isabelle, I’ve done more than enough for you!” he roared. “You have two days. Find a job and get out. If you can’t, go back to your hometown and stop screwing up my life!” He stomped into the living room, grabbing the pink throw and the vase of flowers, and hurled them into the trash can. “This is my and Amrita’s home! I let you stay here out of pity, don’t push your luck!” His words brought tears to Isabelle’s eyes. She scooped up her dog, looking lost and hurt. “Allen… please don’t be so cruel.” “Don’t call me Allen! You don’t have the right!” He was putting on quite a show. You’d almost think she’d moved in without his permission. He pointed a shaking finger at the dinner table. “And I never wanted to eat this crap! You’re the one who insisted on cooking it!” The next thing I knew, he’d flipped the entire table over. Isabelle shrieked as hot oil and broth splattered onto her arm, a red welt instantly forming on her skin. Silent tears streamed down her face. She looked at Allen, her voice trembling with grief. “Do you really not want my food? Or are you just scared of her, saying things you don’t mean?” Her voice cracked. “Every time you came here, you were starving. She has you on that crazy diet, she won’t even let you eat a proper meal. I feel so sorry for you, and this is how you treat me?” The sobs wracked her body. “Nothing happened with Leo back then, I swear. We were just drunk. I loved you so much, Allen. How could I ever betray you?” “Shut up!” A flash of raw agony crossed Allen’s face. Right. I’d almost forgotten. They hadn’t broken up because they fell out of love. They broke up because Allen was convinced she’d cheated on him. 2 Allen and Isabelle had been high school sweethearts. First loves. They’d been together for ten years, all through college and his PhD program. A decade is a long time—long enough for someone to become a part of you, woven into the very fabric of your being. If Allen hadn’t walked in on Isabelle in bed with his best friend, Leo, they probably would have been married by now. After the breakup, it took Allen a full year to pull himself together. He was my father’s star student, and with a little encouragement from my dad, we started dating. When Isabelle found out, she staged a suicide attempt and went on social media, accusing me of being a homewrecker. All of their mutual friends treated me like an invader, an unwelcome presence in their circle. But Allen had been my rock through it all. He stood by me, defended me, and made me believe our foundation was solid. I truly thought we were fine. I never imagined that after all this time, he and Isabelle would still be tangled up like this. If a mutual friend hadn’t forwarded me that hidden Instagram story, I would still be in the dark, happily planning our wedding. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. Isabelle’s choked sobs pulled me back to the trashed apartment. I couldn’t stand to be there for another second. I turned and walked out. “Amrita!” Allen scrambled after me. As he left, he tossed a small pack of bandages to Isabelle for her burn. A gesture that was supposed to look cold, but was really just a twisted form of caring. “Amrita, wait, slow down! Let me explain!” he pleaded, catching up to me. “I never wanted her in our home, I swear! But she’s crazy, she threatened to kill herself if I didn’t help her… She was always like this, even back in school. Her family life was a nightmare—abusive dad, mom ran off… She’s not like you, Amrita. You have a great family, a support system. She has nothing. It’s… it’s pitiful.” I almost laughed again. “So it’s my fault for having a good life?” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “No, that’s not what I mean! I’ll handle it, Amrita, I swear. I’ll get her out. Just… please, forgive me.” His eyes were red, desperate, like he was on the verge of tears. Just then, his phone started vibrating again. Call after call. He rejected every one. On the last one, he answered and shouted into the phone, “Isabelle, you’re insane! Stop calling me!” Then, as if to prove his loyalty, he blocked her number right in front of me. “Amrita, I only love you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Please… don’t leave me.” I’ll admit it. In that moment, I wavered. We’d been together for three years. There were real feelings there. And our families were a good match; marrying him was, on paper, the most logical choice. I didn’t say anything. I just drove us back to our old apartment. Allen was a model of devotion all evening. “Amrita, from now on, I’ll keep my distance from that psycho, I swear… And I’ll lose the weight before the wedding, I’ll get back to my goal weight!” He swore up and down. “If I ever contact her again, may I drop dead!” His promises echoed in the quiet apartment. But when I woke up in the middle of the night, his side of the bed was empty. I called his phone. He said there was an emergency at work, he had to go in. But I could hear it. A faint, almost imperceptible sound of a woman crying in the background. A bitter smile touched my lips. He really did think I was a fool. I hung up and sent him a two-word text: We’re done. His calls started immediately, one after another. His texts flooded my screen. [Amrita, answer the phone! You’re killing me!] [Babe, please don’t do this.] [I’m begging you, just pick up…] But by morning, he still hadn’t come home. 3 I packed my bags and left the apartment where we had built a life for three years. It was my father’s birthday. The last thing I wanted was to worry him, so I plastered on a smile and pretended everything was fine. The house was full of guests. Just before dinner, the doorbell rang. It was Allen, holding a gift-wrapped box. He greeted my father with a cheerful, “Happy birthday, Dad!” I didn’t want to make a scene in front of our family and friends, so I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and played along. Halfway through the party, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, putting on a show for everyone. He leaned in close, his voice a low whisper only I could hear. “Amrita, stop being mad,” he murmured. “I promise, this was the last time. I already told that psycho to get out of our house for good.” He was in the middle of his earnest, heartfelt promise when he froze. He hadn’t noticed her. The very psycho he was talking about was standing in the doorway. Isabelle’s eyes were bloodshot, and she looked like she was about to collapse. When she called his name, her voice was a raw, broken rasp. Allen was stunned. His body went rigid, a look of pure, cornered panic on his face. “What are you doing here? Isabelle, are you trying to ruin my life?” he hissed. “We broke up years ago! If you keep harassing me, I’m calling the cops! Now get out!” He shoved me behind him, a shield between me and her, as he glared at Isabelle. But Isabelle was beyond reason, her tears turning into a hysterical frenzy. She latched onto his sleeve. “No! I’ll follow you for the rest of my life! You’ll never get rid of me!” Her voice rose, drawing the attention of every guest in the room. “I’ve thought it all through, Allen! I still love you! I can’t live without you! The thought of you marrying another woman is killing me! Call me pathetic, call me shameless, I don’t care! I’m not letting you go!” Allen’s face cycled through shades of red and white. I just wanted the floor to swallow me whole. The room was filled with the whispers and stares of my family’s closest friends. A wave of dizziness washed over me, the world tilting on its axis. With the last shred of my composure, I turned to Allen. “Take your drama outside. Get this crazy woman out of my house.” Isabelle let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Oh, that’s easy for you to say, isn’t it, Amrita? Who do you think drove me crazy in the first place?” She pointed a shaking finger at me. “Allen and I had ten years together! If it weren’t for you, we’d be married by now! You think he actually loves you? He’s only with you for your family’s money and connections! If you were like me, crawling out of the mud, do you think he’d even give you a second look?” “Isabelle, shut your goddamn mouth!” Allen’s voice was strained with panic. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the house. As I watched them disappear, the dam inside me finally broke. I ran to the bathroom and threw up until there was nothing left. The three years of our relationship felt like a diseased growth on my body. Cutting it out was going to hurt. When I finally stumbled out of the bathroom, my stomach empty and my body trembling, the guests were all gone. Only my parents were left, waiting by the door. I collapsed into my mother’s arms, the sobs I’d been holding back tearing from my throat. “Dad, Mom… I don’t want to marry him.” My mother held me tight, her hand gently rubbing the back of my neck, just like she did when I was a little girl. “Okay, honey. We won’t. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” “All we want is for you to be happy, sweetheart,” my father added, his voice thick with emotion. I cried until I couldn’t breathe, my head pounding with a dull ache. And then, the world went black. I had a fever of 104. By the time they got me to the hospital, I was burning up. I drifted in and out of a long, disjointed dream. When I finally woke up, it was dark outside. My parents had stepped out to get me some food. I was alone in the quiet room. I finally felt like I could breathe again. And then the door creaked open.

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After eight years of marriage, my husband’s secretary, Jenna, posted a picture to her Instagram story. She was behind the wheel of his limited-edition sports car, with a caption that dripped with insinuation: “What my boyfriend can’t give me, my boss can!” I’d just commented, “Try not to let it affect your work,” only to find she’d already blocked me. Immediately, my phone rang. It was my husband, Julian, and his voice was a furious storm. “I just lent Jenna the car for a spin! Did you really have to send people to run her off the road? She just called me, crying her eyes out, terrified she was about to crash! How could you be so vicious? I’m warning you, Erika, stop this insane jealousy!” He hung up before I could utter a single word of defense. That very night, driving that same car, Jenna hit me. I was two months pregnant. The impact threw me to the ground, and the car dragged me for what felt like an eternity—ten, maybe fifteen yards. The pain stole my voice, but I could feel the warm, horrifying spread of blood beneath me. A bystander rushed to my side and called an ambulance. Just before they wheeled me into surgery, a message popped up on my phone. It was from Jenna. A picture of a brand-new Porsche. I knew. It was Julian’s way of making it up to her. But this time, I didn’t care. I looked at the doctor beside me and my voice was a slow, steady rasp. “The baby… I’m not keeping it. Let it go.” … A vise-like cramp in my abdomen had me drenched in a cold sweat. As the nurses wheeled me out of the operating room, the sheets beneath me were stained a deep, horrifying crimson. Right on cue, Julian called back. I wanted to ignore it, but my fingers, trembling with pain and shock, fumbled and hit the answer button. His enraged voice exploded in my ear. “Didn’t you see my texts? I told you to apologize to Jenna! Are you playing dead after pulling a stunt like that?” “She’s been crying for a solid hour! I can’t believe this is who you’ve become. I’ve told you a hundred times there’s nothing between us! Do you have to be so goddamn unreasonable?” “Erika, you’re such a disappointment! Where are you? You have thirty minutes. Get your ass over here and apologize to Jenna!” A bitter, broken laugh escaped my lips. I had actually thought he might be calling because I’d missed our dinner plans, worried something had happened. But no. It was all for his precious secretary. My shattered heart hit rock bottom. “Disappointed?” I whispered, my voice a fragile wisp of air. “I’ve been disappointed in you for a very, very long time. Does she need an apology? I’ve already given her my husband. If that’s not enough compensation, I don’t know what is.” Before I could hang up, he roared, “What is that supposed to mean? Who do you think you’re talking to with that sarcastic tone? If this is the kind of person you are, I can’t imagine what you’d turn our child into!” “You keep this up, and you won’t even see the baby when it’s born! I’ll have my parents raise it!” Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. I slammed the end-call button. Did he care about the baby? No. He only cared about his own ridiculous pride. In that moment, I almost felt a strange sense of gratitude toward Jenna. Without her, I might not have found the resolve to let this baby go, to sever the one tie that would have bound me to Julian forever. Once I was settled in my room, I called over the kind man who’d brought me to the hospital and transferred $50,000 to him as a thank you. As the anesthesia wore off, the pain returned, sharp and relentless, blanching my face. I curled into a ball on the bed, my gaze fixed on the IV bag. Drip. Drip. Drip. Each drop was like a second of my love for Julian, draining away into nothing. In my haste, I hadn’t checked which card I’d used for the transfer. I’d accidentally used the supplementary card Julian gave me. At midnight, his call ripped me from a pain-induced haze. “What the hell did you spend fifty grand on? Did you hire a male model at the dinner party? Just because we had a fight, you go on a ridiculous spending spree?” His fury burned away the last vestiges of sleep. I glanced at my phone’s payment screen. “I used the wrong card,” I said, my voice flat. “I’ll transfer it back to you. Is that all?” He started to snap back, but I cut the call. Bitterness and scorn flooded me. Eight years of marriage. He could buy his secretary a Porsche without blinking, but he’d interrogate me over a $50,000 charge. There was truly nothing left to fight for. A major business gala was in two days, and I couldn’t afford to be hospitalized for long. When we first got married, Julian and I had an arrangement: he handled the internal operations, and I was his face for all external networking and social events. The upcoming gala was my golden opportunity, the perfect stage to build the connections I’d need to go independent after the divorce, taking half the company with me. The next day, feeling marginally human, I got a prescription from the doctor and checked myself out. On my way to pick up my gown for the event, I saw that Jenna had posted to her Instagram story again last night. She was off-roading in the desert in her new Porsche. The man in the passenger seat was mostly out of frame, but I saw his wrist. I recognized the Rolex instantly. It was my anniversary gift to him last year. Jenna’s caption read: When a man knows how to treat you right. The wear and tear on that Porsche from a single desert joyride would probably cost more than $50,000 to fix. My jaw tightened, the last bit of warmth in my eyes turning to ice. Of course. For Jenna, Julian’s generosity knew no bounds. Three years ago, when I was drowning in stress, I’d asked him to go for a late-night drive with me, just to clear our heads. He hadn’t even looked up from his phone, busy texting her. He’d said it was boring, a waste of time he needed for work. Now I realized it wasn’t the drive he found boring. It was me. Every second with me, now that the love was gone, was torture for him. I closed the app, navigated to my browser, and canceled the custom gift I’d ordered for him this year. Then I unfollowed the store’s page. I wouldn’t be shopping there again. I arrived at the high-end boutique where I’d had my gown tailored. As I walked in, a message from Julian popped up. He was attending the gala tomorrow night as well. I glanced at it and deleted the chat. The thought of having him as my escort made me sick. “I’m here to pick up my order,” I told the sales associate. She froze, her eyes darting nervously. “Miss Vance,” she began hesitantly, “your husband called earlier… He said you needed the measurements altered? Is this gown still for you? Because the sizing…” My brow furrowed, a cold dread creeping in. Before I could respond, Julian’s voice came from behind me. “Erika, what are you doing here? Oh, right, the gown. No need. I’ve already had yours sent to the house. This one’s for Jenna. It’s her first time at an event like this, she needs to look her best.” He offered a tight, condescending smile. “Consider it my apology to her on your behalf.” I turned to see Jenna standing beside him, a triumphant smirk on her face—the same smug expression she’d worn the night she ran me down. She clearly thought I was too afraid of angering Julian to ever report her to the police. She was wrong. I’d just been too busy to send her to jail. But her presence was a useful reminder: now was not the time to show my hand. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. The sting of pain brought a sharp clarity. “First she wants my man, now she wants my dress?” My voice was laced with derision. “It’s a hundred-thousand-dollar gown. Do you really think she can pull it off?” Julian’s face instantly hardened, his eyes flaring with suppressed rage. “Can you stop being so unreasonable? It’s just a damn dress, Erika! What’s the big deal if you let Jenna have it?!” He still had no idea I’d lost the baby. Jenna tugged at his sleeve, her voice a soft, tremulous whisper. “It’s okay, Mr. Hayes. I’m just a secretary, I… I don’t have any right to go to the gala anyway. I appreciate you wanting to show me a new world, but the gown should go to Erika. I’m fine, really…” Tears welled in her eyes, a picture of fragile innocence. It worked like a charm. Julian’s protective instincts surged. “Wrap it up,” he snapped at the associate. “We’re taking it now.” “Fine, give it to her,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. My eyes, dripping with scorn, locked onto Jenna’s. “I paid for it. A hundred grand. Grand larceny should be enough to put her away for a few years. She should enjoy it while she can.” The double meaning hit its mark. Panic flashed in Jenna’s eyes. She shot a terrified glance at me, and the crocodile tears became a genuine torrent. “I don’t want it! I don’t want it!” she cried. “Erika, please don’t be angry, I didn’t mean it! I’ll never go to one of those galas again, I’m not worthy!” She covered her mouth and fled the store. Julian slammed a glass of water the associate had offered him onto the counter. He shot me a look that could kill. “Are you satisfied now?” Then he turned and chased after her. I looked at the stunned sales associate. “Please wrap it up,” I said calmly. “I have a delivery address for you.” I wrote down the shipping address I’d found for Jenna in Julian’s online shopping history and handed it to her. Then I selected another, equally stunning gown that wouldn’t need alterations. Back at the office, Julian and Jenna were nowhere to be found. Perfect. I got the company’s transaction records from accounting and forwarded them to my lawyer, asking him to calculate my half of the settlement. Then I called a friend at the precinct and filed a police report. I recounted the hit-and-run that caused my miscarriage and sent him the footage I’d copied from the car’s dashcam. I’d installed it when our marriage first started to crack, thinking it would catch evidence of an affair. I never imagined it would serve a much greater purpose. By the time I finished, night had fallen. The painkillers were wearing off, and the familiar, grinding pain returned to my abdomen. As I stood up, a warm gush of fluid made me go pale. I swayed, grabbing the back of the sofa to steady myself before collapsing onto it. I fumbled in my purse for the pills the doctor had prescribed. Maybe I’d overdone it today; the scrapes on my arm from the accident were beginning to bleed again. Back home, I disinfected and re-bandaged my wounds, then packed a single suitcase with the things I wanted to take. I left the suitcase by the door and sank onto the sofa to rest. I opened my phone and saw a new post from Jenna, uploaded three hours ago. The location tag was the most exclusive hotel in the city. The photo showed a sweeping view of the skyline at night. In the reflection of the floor-to-ceiling window, two figures sat at a table, bathed in the romantic glow of candlelight. Her second-to-last supper, I thought grimly. Even though this was the very hotel I had begged Julian to take me to countless times, I felt nothing looking at the picture. It was true. A heart can die in a single instant. Just as I was about to lock my phone, the front door opened. Julian walked in, his eyes landing on me with a rare gentleness. “See? This is much better,” he said softly. “There was no need to make such a scene in public. I was a bit harsh today, don’t take it to heart. Jenna got the gown you sent. She was very happy.” A silent, mocking smile touched my lips. I opened a message from my friend at the precinct. He’d reviewed the evidence. It was solid. He asked when I wanted them to make the arrest. My fingers moved across the screen. Tomorrow night. I sent the gala’s address along with it. Noticing my silence, Julian must have sensed he’d gone too far these past few days. A flicker of guilt crossed his face. He actually seemed to humble himself. “Let’s go to the gala together tomorrow. It’s been a while. Besides, Jenna wants to see what it’s like.” I gave a curt, emotionless nod. A drama, after all, is always better with a bigger audience. Usually, when I gave him the cold shoulder, he’d respond with even more hostility. But this time, he said nothing more, walking upstairs to the bathroom with a look of contentment, completely oblivious to the packed suitcase by the door. I laughed, a dry, self-deprecating sound. As I was about to retreat to the guest room, Julian came out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a cloud of steam. His gaze was heated, and the air thickened with a cloying intimacy. I didn’t move as he leaned in close. His warm breath tickled my ear as he murmured, “Honey, I’m so glad I have you…” Then it hit me. A wave of Jenna’s perfume wafted off him. My stomach churned violently. I shoved him away. “Not tonight,” I said, my voice ice. I turned and walked into the guest room, shutting the door on his furious, sputtering insults. “What the hell is wrong with you now? Is this never going to end? Stop playing hard to get! You think I’m actually dying to touch you? You’ve let yourself go, so don’t act like you’re some prize!” On the other side of the door, I leaned my back against the cool wood and slowly slid to the floor. The memory of a young man’s warm voice faded in my ears, growing more distant with every passing second. Erika, we’ll be together forever. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world… The next day, I took care of some paperwork at the police station, then had a professional do my hair and makeup. When it was time, I headed for the gala. The opening remarks had just concluded, and the ballroom was already buzzing. I moved through the crowd alone, weaving between business titans, casually pitching the vision for my new, independent company. Across the room, Julian had his arm around Jenna, proudly introducing her to the guests. The gown stolen from me clung to her body like a second skin, making her look every bit the canary in a gilded cage. I was by a corner table, swapping my champagne flute, when she approached me, heels clicking on the marble. Before I could speak, she lifted her own glass and poured its contents down the front of her dress. A theatrical shriek pierced the air. “Ahh!” Heads turned. All eyes were on us. “Erika, what are you doing?” she wailed, tears streaming down her face. “You already gave me this dress! Why would you do this?” In an instant, Julian was there, charging across the room toward me. He didn’t give me a chance to explain. He swung his arm back and slapped me across the face, his voice a furious roar. “I thought you’d changed, but you’re still the same crazy bitch! If you can’t behave, then get the hell out! You are never attending one of these events again!”

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To cure my ‘sister’s’ supposed depression, Carter Thorne—the man who was my childhood sweetheart, my fiancé, the one who swore he’d marry no one but me—secretly married her instead. So I turned around and accepted the arranged marriage my family had brokered for me. I married Declan Blackwood, the undisputed king of New York’s elite, a man who had silently loved me for years. For seven years, he worshipped my very skin. He was a man starved, clinging to me every night as if I were air. If I had asked for the stars, he would have plucked them from the sky for me. I thought I had finally found my happiness. Then, one night, tangled in the sheets after we’d made love, I overheard him on the phone with his best friend. “Jasmine’s an international star now. When are you finally dropping Seraphina?” “What’s the difference?” Declan’s voice was a low murmur. “I’m with someone I don’t love anyway. Besides, I have to keep Sera in check, stop her from ruining the happiness Jasmine fought so hard for.” My world tilted. Later, in his study, I opened his laptop. In a hidden folder, a universe of obsession unfolded: a hundred thousand photos of Jasmine Vance. A hundred unsent love letters. The delusion was shattered. It was time to wake up. I bought a life-sized silicone mannequin and orchestrated a fire. From this life to the next, in heaven or in hell, our paths would never cross again. 1 The order confirmation for the items I needed glowed on the screen. I shut the laptop. Just three more days. Then, according to plan, I would disappear from Declan Blackwood’s world forever. I turned, and my breath caught. I was staring straight into his smiling, almond-shaped eyes. He must have stood on the porch for a while, letting the winter chill and the lingering scent of nicotine fade from his coat before daring to approach me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his warmth a familiar ghost. “Why are you still up?” he murmured into my hair. His embrace, once my safest harbor, now sent a bitter acid creeping into my heart. For seven years, he had put me on a pedestal. Everyone in our circle knew Declan Blackwood kept me, his darling wife, tucked away in a gilded cage. He’d told me it was love at first sight, that he’d adored me from afar for fourteen agonizing years. At our wedding, he’d stood at the altar with tears in his eyes, vowing that marrying me was a dream he never wanted to wake from. He knew my history. He’d used the full force of the Blackwood empire to go to war with Carter Thorne, the man who’d abandoned me. He’d sabotaged Jasmine’s career to avenge me, snarling that he despised anyone who had ever caused me pain. He was a phenomenal actor. So good that I, an award-winning actress myself, never saw the performance. A bitter memory surfaced. In the throes of passion, he’d always call me “Sera,” but the word was always slurred, thick on his tongue. I thought it was just a quirk of his passion, a sound lost to ecstasy. Now, I replayed it in my mind. J-Sera… Jasmine. The truth was a shard of ice in my gut. I lowered my head, secretly wiping a tear from the corner of my eye with my thumb. He didn’t notice, lost in his own narrative. “Your sister won the big award. Let’s just stay home from the industry party tomorrow. I don’t want you to see her and get upset.” I silently counted. This was at least the hundredth time he’d used an excuse like this to keep me out of the limelight. I used to think it was his possessiveness, a flaw I indulged with a sigh, even letting it convince me to step back from my career at its peak. Now I knew the truth. It was all to clear the stage for Jasmine. “I have a meeting with Maestro Bellini tomorrow,” I said, my voice steady. “He wants me for his next leading role. I can’t miss it.” “It’s fine, we’ll skip it. I’ll smooth things over for you,” he said, his tone dismissive. “My wife never has to work another day in her life if she doesn’t want to. I can provide for you.” But it was never about the money. I had told him once that starring in a Bellini film, earning it on my own merit, was my lifelong dream. He’d sworn then, with a fire in his eyes, that he would move heaven and earth to help me achieve it. He hadn’t forgotten. It was just that Jasmine wanted the role, too. So my dream had to become her stepping stone. Seeing my silence, he softened his tone, trying to coax me. “Sera, come on, don’t be difficult. There will be other parties, other roles. But our time together… that’s what’s precious, isn’t it?” He kissed my temple. “The day after tomorrow is our seven-year anniversary. I’m planning a surprise you’ll never forget. How does that sound?” A ghost of a smile touched my lips. “It sounds perfect,” I said. “And I’ll give you my greatest gift in return.” Our seven-year itch, Declan. We’re not going to make it. From now on, you’ll be alone. Only you. My gift to you is my absence. 2 In the dead of night, after Declan was fast asleep, his arm draped possessively over me, I slipped out of bed and went to his study. The words “I don’t love her” and the digital shrine on his computer were enough. They should have been enough to sever any lingering hope. But seven years of shared memories, of whispered secrets and easy laughter… they weren’t a phantom. They were real. I couldn’t just let them go. My feet carried me to the small, sleek safe under his desk. It was Pandora’s box, humming with a dark, seductive energy. I’d asked him about it before, during lazy afternoons spent tangled up in his office. He would always deflect, teasing me, telling me to guess the combination but never giving a hint. I had tried my birthday. His birthday. Our wedding anniversary. All wrong. Now, with a trembling hand, I typed in Jasmine’s birthday. For one heart-stopping moment, I prayed I was wrong. The safe clicked open. My heart plummeted into an icy abyss. Inside, nestled on a bed of black velvet, was a pair of matching rings. The style was dated, but they were polished to a brilliant shine, clearly cherished and meticulously cared for. On the inner band, an inscription: DB & JV. Declan Blackwood & Jasmine Vance. The strength drained from my body, and a pain so sharp it felt like my heart was being carved from my chest stole my breath. Even a fool would see the truth now. Declan had never, not for a single moment, loved me. The next day, for the first time, I defied him. I went to the party. A shadow crossed Declan’s face, but he didn’t try to stop me. He simply tightened his grip on my hand. “Alright, you can go. But you’re so beautiful, Sera, you have to stay by my side. If that sister of yours tries anything, I need to be there to protect you.” He played the part of the loyal guard dog to perfection. But I knew he was just afraid I’d slip my leash and steal Jasmine’s thunder. That wasn’t my intention. I was about to stage my own death. This was my last chance to say a silent goodbye to the directors and writers who had believed in me. The moment we arrived, all eyes were on Jasmine and me. “The lead in Bellini’s next film has to be Seraphina Hayes,” someone whispered nearby. “She has the talent, and with Declan Blackwood backing her, it’s a sure thing.” Jasmine overheard. Her face soured, and she stomped over to the group. “What makes you so sure? That role is mine!” The crowd wasn’t impressed. “You’re good, but you don’t have Seraphina’s experience. A little humility goes a long way.” “Yeah, even if she’s married to a Thorne now, she’s up against a Blackwood. It’s pretty obvious who has the upper hand.” “Honestly, you win one little award and think you own the town?” Jasmine was practically vibrating with rage. “You’ll see! You’ll all eat your words!” She shot me a venomous glare. “Enjoy it while you can. We’ll see who’s laughing at the end of the night. Tramp.” With a final sneer, she shoved me. Hard. I stumbled, my knee cracking against the sharp corner of a table. Tears of pain sprang to my eyes. Beside me, Declan, my sworn protector, acted as if he’d seen nothing. He simply let it happen. I dropped my gaze, fighting the wave of acid rising in my throat. Just then, the lights in the grand ballroom dimmed. It was time for the official announcement. “Let’s give a huge congratulations to… Jasmine Vance!” “And a special thank you to our celebrated, billion-dollar-box-office screenwriter—Linden—for his support! He has graciously waived his fee for this script and even invested thirty million dollars, all to ensure that Jasmine could bring his story to life. For she is, in his words, his only leading lady, his muse!” Jasmine ascended the stage, bathed in a celestial glow. She took the microphone, her eyes finding mine in the darkness, and delivered the final blow. “You see, Seraphina? After all these years, you still can’t win against me.” “Loser!” She stood under the spotlight, a queen surrounded by her court, radiant and triumphant. I looked at Declan beside me. He was still holding my hand, but his eyes were shining with vicarious joy for Jasmine’s victory. I felt a dark, bitter laugh bubble up inside me. Yesterday, in his study, I’d found the manuscript. On the title page, the dedication was scrawled in his familiar hand: “For J.V., my muse.” Linden. The pen name he used. The name under which he poured out his soul for another woman. Even though I knew this was coming, seeing it unfold before my eyes was a fresh agony, a dull, crushing weight on my chest. Maestro Bellini found me by the bar, his expression sympathetic. “Don’t worry, my dear. There will always be a place for you in my films.” I managed a weak, sad smile and shook my head. “Thank you for your kindness, Maestro. But I’m afraid… there might not be another chance.” 3 Declan, playing the part of the oblivious, comforting husband, pulled me into his arms. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fund a few movies for you to star in, just for fun. How does that sound?” he whispered. “Tonight, I have a surprise for you on the waterfront. My love for you is more important than any movie role.” The words that once tasted like honey now felt like cloying, stale sugar on my tongue. But to avoid suspicion, I forced myself to swallow them down. “Okay.” After making my rounds and expressing my gratitude to the industry veterans who had supported me, I was ready to leave. Declan dismissed our driver, intending to take me for a drive himself. But just as he started the engine, his phone buzzed. I glanced over. I recognized the number. It was Jasmine. His expression shifted instantly. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a calculated hesitation. “Sera, something urgent just came up at the office. Would you mind going to the waterfront by yourself?” I feigned a moment of surprise, then smiled. “Of course not. You go take care of business.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, then turned and headed back into the glittering ballroom. I started the car, but I didn’t drive toward the waterfront. I drove home. To the Blackwood mansion. The time had come. All my energy now would be focused on preparing for my death tomorrow. I gathered every trace of our life together. Online, I scrubbed our history, deleting backups from the cloud until nothing remained. The physical memories, I piled together to be burned. My phone lit up. An anonymous number. The first message was a photo: Declan, drunk and flushed, passed out on a sofa next to a smirking Jasmine. [He has a sensitive stomach, you know? But he still took all those shots for me. Hope you’re not mad, sis. ] [He may fight with the Thornes in public, snatching my roles, but did you know that behind the scenes he compensates me a hundred times over? Do you know why?] [Did you know Declan was my little shadow growing up? He’s always loved me. Marrying you was just his way of keeping you on a leash!] [You didn’t really believe someone like him would just fall in love with you for no reason, did you? Don’t be naive.] [He told me that every night, he has to imagine it’s me he’s holding just to get through it. He also said you’re just Carter’s sloppy seconds, that you’re disgusting for not even saving your first time for him!] The texts fell like an avalanche of poison. My heart was a frozen stone. I felt nothing. I simply moved faster, methodically preparing the scene. I positioned the mannequin in the bedroom, ensuring it would be consumed by the flames, then drenched the house in gasoline. After forwarding every one of Jasmine’s texts to the most ruthless paparazzi team in the city, I snapped my SIM card in two and tossed the pieces into the bushes. I pressed the ignition button on the remote detonator. Then I turned and walked toward the distant horizon. The path ahead was dark, but that didn’t matter. I knew, eventually, I would walk into the dawn. Declan, meanwhile, was completely oblivious. He looked down at Jasmine, his voice laced with an unconscious note of reprimand. “Jasmine, what are you doing here? My anniversary with Sera is tomorrow. This will make her suspicious.” Jasmine’s eyes welled with tears. “Are you blaming me?” Panic flared in Declan’s eyes. He rushed to reassure her. “No, of course not. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, Jasmine.” She crossed her arms with a sniff, offering a grudging acceptance. The Blackwood family butler’s number flashed on his screen. Declan silenced it with a frown. After the fifteenth call in a row, a cold dread began to creep up his spine. “What is it?” he answered, his voice sharp. “Sir, it’s terrible… the missus… she… she set the house on fire and killed herself!” “We did everything we could, sir… but there was nothing to be done.”

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The night my mother jumped into the Silverveil, I finally understood her mortal madness. Some loves are worth drowning for. Others deserve to die. Everyone said my mother, Isolde, was blessed by fate. A mere mortal, yet she had won the eternal devotion of my father, Valerius, the Celestial God of War*. (*Note: The highest-ranking general in the Celestial Realm.) But my mother once told me, “A woman must never debase herself. It doesn’t matter who your father is. If the day comes that he betrays me, I will return to my mortal world, and we will never meet again.” Mother taught me mortal women bleed red, not gold like goddesses—but our pride weighs more than celestial jade. Because of her teachings, when I married the Celestial Emperor, Orion, we carved our names together into the Fate-Mirror Stone, vowing to grow old as one. But in the end, my father still betrayed her, moving the celestial, Lyra, into his sacred hall. And the Emperor, my husband, betrayed me too, bringing home a fragile Jade Hare, a shape-shifting spirit who dwells in moonbeams. On the day my father remarried, my mother leaped into the Silverveil River and vanished from the Celestial Realm. And as I watched the Emperor clasp the hand of his new love, I knew it was time for me to leave as well. 1 My mother was once the most beautiful woman in the Celestial Realm, but recently, a shadow had fallen over her. When we met, her face was gaunt, her eyes clouded with an exhaustion she couldn’t hide. “Seraphina,” she said, her voice a whisper, “your father has fallen in love with someone else.” I was stunned. “Mother, you and Father are the celestial couple everyone admires. How could this be? He has always cherished you. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” A bitter smile touched her lips. “I was a fool. How can a mortal’s fleeting beauty ever compete with the ageless immortality of a goddess?” My mother, a mortal, had married a god. Though his divine essence protected her, slowing the decay of time, she was not of the celestial race. In recent years, fine lines had begun to trace their way across her face. I learned the truth then. After giving birth to me, her body had weakened. My father took a long retreat to the Argent Peaks, where he met Lyra. No one knew that they had fallen in love at first sight, spending a century of bliss together and secretly having a child. Though I was my father’s daughter, half of my blood was mortal. My celestial power was inherently flawed, destined never to reach its full potential. My father was the God of War. How could he tolerate having only one child with an incomplete spiritual root? He treated us well, my mother and me, but his pride was a stubborn, unyielding thing. He craved an heir worthy of his title, one with pure, noble blood. “I thought he was in seclusion, meditating,” my mother said, her voice trembling with the memory of her pain. “All that time, I was alone, enduring the whispers and scorn of the heavens. They mocked me for being mortal, unworthy of being the God of War’s wife.” Her voice broke. “A mortal woman, raising a child, tormented by the Empress herself, who claimed I had seduced a god who had dedicated his life to discipline! I fought for years to win their respect, and just when I had, your father brought home another child, claiming he and Lyra had pledged their lives to each other long ago in the mountains!” “Seraphina, I told you, if he ever betrayed me, I would return to my world. That time has come. I hope you won’t try to stop me.” I squeezed her hand, my voice firm. “Mother, I am your flesh and blood, raised by your teachings. Whatever you decide, I will support you.” A relieved smile touched her lips. “And you?” she asked softly. “How are things between you and the Emperor?” I sighed, sinking to my knees. “I have failed you, Mother. I have failed the marriage you so carefully chose for me. The Emperor has brought home a Jade Hare. He dotes on her. I have already decided to leave him.” A flicker of pain crossed her eyes. The Emperor, Orion, had been her handpicked choice for me. As the daughter of the God of War, I had been a prized bride, sought after by the finest men from all the realms. The Dragon Prince of the Eastern Sea, the Empress’s own nephew, gods from every corner of the heavens—they had all vied for my hand. But my mother had only one condition: whoever married me must have no other woman for all of eternity. She had been a princess in the mortal realm, she said, and had seen too many men discard their wives for concubines, their hearts fickle and cruel. “A woman’s life is bound to a man’s. When he changes his heart, it is a tragedy for both women.” I was her beloved daughter. She wanted nothing more than a life of peace and happiness for me. The Dragon Prince was handsome but notoriously promiscuous. The Empress’s nephew had returned from his mortal trial with a secret lover already hidden in his palace. The high gods of the Celestial Realm were free spirits, unwilling to be tied down by marriage. Only Orion, the Celestial Emperor, was different. He had slumbered for a century on the Adamant Spire, and in the first moment of his awakening, he had asked my mother for my hand. “Seraphina,” he’d said, his voice filled with a thousand years of longing, “for a millennium, you are all I have dreamed of.” He claimed to have fallen in love with me after a single, fleeting glance a hundred years ago. He treated me with unparalleled tenderness. He was a being of pure, cold light, and in his presence, I too fell in love. On our wedding day, a river of crimson silk stretched across the heavens. He promised to love me for all eternity. We carved our names together on the Fate-Mirror Stone. But that was only the first century. Now, he had found a new love. 2 Orion returned from a three-day trip to the Adamant Spire with a Jade Hare. She was a pitiful creature, her body covered in wounds. “I found her at the foot of the mountain,” Orion explained. “She was being attacked by a spirit beast. She wouldn’t have survived. I saved her out of pity, and now the grateful thing insists on following me.” As he spoke, the hare transformed into a beautiful young woman. I saw no harm in it and suggested she could stay in our palace, Seraphina Hall, as an attendant. Orion’s smile froze. He looked at me in disbelief. “Seraphina, you have always been the kindest of heart. The Jade Hare has such a humble background, and you would make her a servant? If she becomes an attendant, with her weak spiritual power, she will surely be bullied.” The Jade Hare leaned weakly against him, her eyes instantly welling with tears. “I have been bullied my whole life. The Emperor promised me a safe place, but is it to be your servant?” I was confused. “There are tens of thousands of attendants in the Celestial Realm. Do you consider them all servants? Besides, you saved her. She can’t just stay in Seraphina Hall with no title or purpose.” Tears streamed down the Jade Hare’s face as she knelt at my feet. “Lady Seraphina, I know my status is low, but I understand that a single drop of kindness must be repaid with a flood of devotion. The Emperor saved my life. I am willing to serve him, asking for no title, only the chance to repay his grace!” I finally understood. I smiled thinly. “Orion, what is it you want?” He turned away, his tone unnatural. “Seraphina, she has nowhere else to go. Just let her stay…” “When did I say she couldn’t stay? I said if she wants to remain, she can be an attendant in Seraphina Hall. Or,” my voice turned to ice, “are you planning to take her as your consort?” He missed the frost in my eyes completely, his face lighting up with joy. “You would really be willing? I knew you were the most reasonable one. If your mother can accept Lyra, surely you and the Jade Hare can live in harmony.” “Seraphina, you know my heart belongs only to you. This is just a title, to give her a place in the Celestial Realm so she can live safely. You wouldn’t mind, would you?” You think he loves you? A God of War needs heirs with divine blood, not half-breed weaklings! The Jade Hare looked up, overjoyed. “Lady Seraphina, they say you are the daughter of the God of War, who protects all the realms. His daughter is truly as broad-minded as he is!” I said nothing. They had already made their decision and painted me as the magnanimous, benevolent wife. Orion wrapped an arm around the Jade Hare’s waist, lifting her tenderly. “Your leg is still injured. You shouldn’t be kneeling for so long.” She gazed at him through her tears, a radiant smile breaking through. “For you, my Lord, I would die a thousand deaths.” I watched this play of profound love, my heart growing cold and barren. So, this was how a life debt was repaid. With one’s body. Before I could even process it, Orion spoke again. “The night air is cold. I’ll take her to her room now. You should rest early too, Seraphina.” He carried her into the palace, striding past me without a single glance. I stood frozen, waiting, hoping he would remember. Tonight was the full moon. The night my mixed blood, celestial and mortal, warred within me, causing excruciating pain. Every full moon, it was Orion who transferred his spiritual energy to me, who stayed by my side. But tonight, he was worried about a wounded leg, about the cold night air. He had forgotten my pain. I looked up at the palace name, “Seraphina Hall,” and laughed a hollow laugh. “Once, the bright moon shone upon the iridescent cloud returning home,” I whispered. He had named this palace for me, his “iridescent cloud.” Now, another lived within its walls. The moon was still there, but the heart had changed. If that was the case, why should I stay? 3 Orion and my father held their wedding ceremonies on the same day. The procession of bridal litters stretched from my father’s hall all the way to mine. The night before, my father visited my mother’s chambers for the first time in a long while. He had shed his elaborate robes and wore a simple white tunic, just as he had on the day they first met. My mother was painting her lips in the mirror. “My lord,” she said coolly, “shouldn’t you be with your new love? Why have you come to me?” My father was silent for a long time. Then he took a jade pendant from his robes. In the lamplight, it glowed with a soft, ethereal light. My mother froze. “Do you remember?” he asked. “On our wedding day, you gave this to me as a token.” “I want to use it now to ask you to give Lyra a place. She was with me in the Argent Peaks for so long, she bore my son. I cannot let her live her life without a proper title.” He was speaking of their promise in the mortal realm. During his mortal trial, my father had saved my mother from enemy soldiers. In gratitude, she had given him the jade pendant. “If ever you have need of me, show me this, and I will do everything in my power to help you.” My mother laughed, but a tear traced its way to the corner of her mouth. “Valerius, I thought this was a token of our love.” My father frowned, quickly wiping the tear away. “Isolde, I love you very much, but you cannot expect me to be faithful to you alone. Even mortal men have multiple wives. I am the God of War! Can I not have a soulmate, a child who can inherit my title?” He took her hand, his voice softening. “Don’t worry. Lyra is a gentle soul, she doesn’t like to compete. She and the child will live in the side palace. She will get along with you.” My mother said nothing, her eyes just shimmering with unshed tears. My father’s patience wore thin. “Isolde, it has been thousands of years! When will you stop being so willful?” I watched it all unfold in my water mirror, a deep sorrow settling in my heart. My mother was right. When a man loves a woman, he will say the most beautiful things in the world to prove his devotion. Once he stops loving her, the world will offer a million justifications for his betrayal. When he had loved her, she was pure and admirable. Now, she was willful and unreasonable. I turned away. Orion was sleeping peacefully beside me, his features as serene as ever. He stirred, murmuring my name in his sleep. “Seraphina… don’t go.” He had been good to me, in his way. He and the Jade Hare had never crossed a definitive line; he never stayed the night with her. But I knew him better than anyone, and I saw the affection he himself hadn’t yet recognized. The way his brow furrowed when she cried, the slight upturn of his lips when she was near, the way his hand would reach out, as if in longing, when her dress brushed past him. I didn’t understand. How could years of shared love be worth less than a chance encounter? Less than the scenery of a mountain, less than a new infatuation, less than three days at the foot of a mountain? He and my father—one had betrayed with his body, the other with his heart. My mother and I were done waiting. I smiled and pushed his hand away. My silhouette in the mirror merged with my mother’s. We spoke the same words. “In a place without love, why linger?”

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A massive snakeskin appeared in the building’s hallway. I immediately posted in the residents’ group chat, warning my neighbors to be careful. “Lock your doors and windows! A snake can swallow something several times its size. This one is huge, and after shedding, it will be hungry and hunting!” My neighbors were dismissive, mocking my paranoia. The building manager quickly followed up: “There are no snakes in this building. We ask certain residents to refrain from fear-mongering.” Hiss. Then what was that sound, slithering in the hallway right now? 1. I grew up with my grandfather in the mountains, so I knew a snakeskin when I saw one. When the cleaning crew found it, everyone else thought it was a prank, a cheap rubber prop. How could a real snake get into a luxury high-rise like this? But I could tell. This was a fresh shed. The snake that left it behind was now even bigger. I had to warn them again. “Lock your doors and windows! A snake can swallow something several times its size. This one is huge, and after shedding, it will be hungry and hunting!” The response was a wave of ridicule. We were in the heart of the city, miles from any real wilderness. If there was a giant snake on the loose, someone would have seen it by now. Mom_from_606: “908, stop being so dramatic, you’re scaring people! This is a luxury apartment building, not a shack in the woods. Where would a snake even come from?” She had a point, but what if someone was keeping it as a pet? It wasn’t unheard of. I typed again, unable to let it go. Me (908): “Maybe it’s someone’s pet. Just please be careful.” The chat flooded with snake emojis. No one was taking me seriously. Only the resident in 707 seemed to show a flicker of concern. Resident_707: “If someone was keeping a snake that big, don’t you think its owner would have been eaten by now?” That quieted the chat for a moment. The building manager stepped in with a placating, yet passive-aggressive tone. BuildingManager: “There are no snakes in this building. We ask certain residents to refrain from fear-mongering.” Just then, my food delivery arrived. I went to the door to grab it. A blood-curdling scream echoed from the hallway, followed by silence. I tried calling the delivery guy. The call wouldn’t go through. A primal fear rooted me to the spot. I crept to the peephole. A moment later, I saw a single foot being slowly, unnaturally dragged out of my line of sight. I pressed my ear against the door, my heart pounding. Over the frantic beating in my chest, I heard a clear, distinct sound. Hiss. No snakes? Then what was in my hallway? 2. The delivery guy was probably gone. Whatever was out there had taken down a grown man in seconds. This snake wasn’t just big; it had to be venomous. I immediately called Animal Control, then frantically typed in the group chat: Me (908): “DO NOT LEAVE YOUR APARTMENTS! Something happened to the delivery guy. Wait for the professionals to arrive!” Mike_1008: “Is this some new kind of prank? Maybe the delivery guy is just messing with you.” Resident_707: “I can’t stay in, I have a package to pick up.” Mom_from_606: “I have to take my baby out for his daily walk in the sun!” You can lead a horse to water… Fine. Let them be idiots. I couldn’t save people who didn’t want to be saved. They would have to face the consequences themselves. All I could do was lock my doors and windows and wait. Then, a horrifying thought struck me. My best friend, Beth, was supposed to come over in two hours. I quickly started a video call to tell her to stay away. She answered with a huge grin. “Surprise! I’m already in your lobby! Aren’t you going to come down and greet me?” “Don’t come up! Get out of the building! There’s a snake!” The video feed froze. From the background, I could see she was already in the elevator. The signal had dropped. If she just stayed in the elevator and went back down, she’d be fine. I sent her a flurry of texts, praying she wouldn’t step out. At the same time, the once-jovial group chat exploded. The building manager posted a grainy screenshot from a security camera. A massive, shadowy serpent was slithering through the halls. Their nonchalant attitude vanished in an instant. An official notice went out telling everyone to remain in their apartments. They started demanding to know if anyone was keeping a pet snake. The chat filled with accusations and panic, but no one confessed. If this snake was wild, it would be even more aggressive. I could only hope the professionals would get here in time. My phone buzzed. A new message from Beth. “Almost on the ninth floor! Come out and help me with my bags!” My warning had arrived too late. She hadn’t seen it. Her chat bubble showed she was typing… Then, a frantic knocking echoed from my front door. Was it her? 3. “Beth, is that you?” I yelled, inching toward the door. No answer. Just more knocking, louder and more desperate now, as if something was chasing the person on the other side. Suddenly, my phone rang. It was Beth. “Oh my god, Shawna!” she gasped, out of breath. “I heard your voicemail just as the doors opened! I slammed the button and got the hell out of there!” If Beth was out of the building, then who was at my door? My stomach churning, I crept back to the peephole. It was the young woman who lived across the hall. Her lips were blue, her eyes darting around in terror. We exchanged pleasantries sometimes; she seemed nice enough. She’d been texting in the group chat just a few minutes ago. What was she doing out here? “Help me!” she screamed, her voice cracking. She started pounding on my door with her fists, the sound booming through the hallway. “I locked my keys inside!” Her cries were so pitiful, so desperate. My heart went out to her. My hand was on the deadbolt when I heard her whisper to someone else, her voice trembling. “Don’t bite me… I’ll find you more food… I promise…” Then a terrified shriek. “No!” Hiss. Silence. I didn’t have the courage to look through the peephole again. I could imagine the gruesome scene all too well. When the initial wave of terror subsided, a cold realization washed over me. The girl across the hall… she was trying to feed me to the snake to save herself. If I had opened that door, I would be dead. Another victim in the serpent’s path. But wait. The snake had already taken the delivery guy. Why was it still hunting? Unless… there was more than one. 4. I relayed what happened to the building manager, telling them to check the cameras and pinpoint the snake’s location. The group chat was in chaos, residents demanding action. But the management was useless. They claimed the situation was too dangerous to send anyone in; we just had to wait for the professionals. Then came another update. The snake that had been on camera had vanished. They had searched every feed and couldn’t find a trace of it. Someone offered a wild theory: “What if this thing is supernatural? It knows how to avoid cameras.” The chat descended further into panic. [Unknown User]: “Is someone in this building raising this thing? It seems to know the layout of every floor so well.” I suspected the same thing. Someone was hiding it. Suddenly, the Mom from 606 turned on me. Mom_from_606: “Maybe it’s 908! The thief crying ‘thief’!” After everything I did to warn them, this was the thanks I got. I decided to stay quiet. A moment later, the manager posted a photo of the first snakeskin again, asking everyone to confirm it wasn’t from their pet. I zoomed in on the image. At first glance, it looked the same. But the patterns… they were completely different. My theory was correct. There wasn’t just one snake. And the snake that shed this second skin was even bigger. I was still debating whether to say anything when a new message popped up from the manager. The snake had been caught. They attached a video of a small python being wrangled by a man in uniform. It was obvious the snake in the video was far too small to have shed either of the massive skins. But the residents didn’t care. They were just relieved. The chat filled with thumbs-up emojis, praising the management for their efficiency. I didn’t know what to do. I still had to live here. If I exposed their lie, they would make my life hell. More importantly, I had already decided to stop getting involved. But my conscience won. I laid out my reasoning for them all to see. The manager was the first to attack, calling my claims nonsense and insisting the snake was caught. The property manager himself called me directly, and the moment I answered, he unleashed a torrent of abuse, even threatening me. “You residents are nothing but trouble! I’m warning you, if you want to keep living here peacefully, you’ll shut your mouth!” I recorded the entire call. Just in case. The group chat split into two factions. One side believed me and urged caution. The other trusted the management and was already preparing to go about their day. I messaged Beth, telling her to go home and not to linger around the building. She loved drama, and I was terrified she’d get too close and get bitten. But she hadn’t replied since she sent me an emoji twenty minutes ago. I remembered my balcony overlooked the front of the building. I rushed over and peered down. She wasn’t there. Maybe she’d gone home? Then my eyes caught something. A massive, scaled tail, dangling from the balcony of a unit below me. And the sliding glass door to that apartment was wide open. 5. I snapped a photo and posted it in the group chat, warning the residents on the floor below. The Mom from 606 exploded. She recognized the baby bib hanging on the balcony railing. It was hers. A stream of frantic voice messages flooded the chat. “That’s my apartment! Someone help my baby!” “My mother-in-law and my son are the only ones home! Why didn’t she close the window?!” The chat went silent. Everyone knew that responding meant getting involved. No one was willing to take that risk. The Mom tagged the building manager over and over, but they had gone silent again. I couldn’t stand it. I messaged her privately, telling her to call home immediately and tell her mother-in-law to hide somewhere safe until the snake left on its own. Ten minutes later, she sent me a friend request. Then she started spamming me with video calls. I didn’t answer. In a situation like this, it was every man for himself. I didn’t want to get dragged any deeper into this mess. She then took to the public chat, demanding I help. Mom_from_606: “908, why are you ignoring me? Just go check on my son and mother-in-law. Bring them to your apartment where it’s safe!” Are you kidding me? Even if the snake wasn’t in the hallway, there was no guarantee it wasn’t still in her apartment. Going there would be a suicide mission. The best thing to do was wait. I had already done more than enough by warning her. I steeled myself and ignored her. Mom_from_606: “@Shawna_908, why aren’t you answering my calls? Are you just going to let them die?” Sensing a new target for their fear, other residents chimed in, criticizing me. [User]: “Yeah, you saw it, you have to help!” [User]: “We’re all neighbors here. Help them out! She’s a single mom with a baby, don’t be so selfish, 908!” The hypocrisy was staggering. A minute ago, they were all playing dumb. Now they were saints. I was furious. I fired back: Me (908): “Anyone who just typed, why don’t YOU go? I warned everyone multiple times to lock their doors and stay inside. They didn’t listen, and now it’s my fault? @Resident_608, you’re right next door. @Resident_605, you’re across the hall. It’s an easy trip for you. GO!” The conversation shifted instantly. The resident in 608 claimed they weren’t home. The one in 605 quickly agreed with my original point. The Mom was still frantic. Her latest private message was a desperate plea. “Please, my baby isn’t even a year old. Please help me!” She forwarded a video her mother-in-law had just sent her. The baby was wailing, his face red and scrunched up. The grandmother paced back and forth on the hardwood floor, trying to soothe him. I quickly told her to have her mother-in-law stop moving. Snakes are sensitive to vibrations. She thanked me profusely, then sent a dozen more video clips, repeatedly asking if I could see the snake. Then she suggested her mother-in-law add me on a video call so I could “keep an eye on the baby” for her. The audacity of some people. I refused, telling her to contact management and Animal Control if she was that worried. Speaking of which, where were they? It had been over twenty minutes. Suddenly, a new message from the Mom. “My mother-in-law was bitten! Go save her!” How? I had scoured the video she sent. The room was clear. A tearful voice note followed. “My mother-in-law said the baby wouldn’t stop crying… I thought it would be safer for them to come to your apartment than stay in there with the snake… so I told her to make a run for it. She was bitten as soon as she opened the door.” If it weren’t for the innocent child, I would have blocked her. She basically sent her own mother-in-law to her death. “She’s still breathing! She managed to crawl back inside with the baby. Please, go save her! You know about snakes, you must know how to treat a bite, right?” I’m not a doctor. Her only hope was an ambulance. Her crying intensified. “The city marathon is today! All the roads are blocked. An ambulance can’t get through! Not even a fly could get down our street.” So that’s why no one had arrived. The marathon. But why today of all days? She then sent me a screenshot from a video call. In the blurry image, I could see the shadowy form of a massive snake. I was right. And next to the snake, just for a split second, I saw a pair of sneakers. 6. I had a strong, chilling premonition. This snake wasn’t just a pet. It was being controlled. The attacks were deliberate. The grandmother in 606 was hovering between life and death, and the Mom was having a complete breakdown in the group chat. Finally, the management responded: BuildingManager: “Resident in 606, please remain calm. We are dispatching personnel to check on the situation immediately.” Strangely, a few moments later, it was my door that started knocking. I peered through the peephole but saw no one. Yet the knocking continued, rhythmic and persistent. Then it stopped. I heard it again. The soft, dry, slithering sound of a snake. Hiss. Was the snake… knocking on my door? How could it knock with such a perfect rhythm? As I was trying to wrap my head around the impossibility of it all, the management sent another update. BuildingManager: “We have confirmed the presence of two large pythons in the building. One has now been successfully captured. The resident of 606 is being transported to the hospital. We have brought in professional snake handlers who will be conducting a door-to-door search. Please cooperate and open your doors when they arrive.” They even attached a photo of a captured snake. Suddenly, the incompetent, ghosting management team was a model of efficiency. The group chat erupted with praise. But I noticed something odd. The few residents who had been actively speaking up just a moment ago had gone completely silent. My phone rang. It was Beth. The moment I answered, the knocking at my door started again, faster and more urgent this time. I was certain it was a person. A wave of relief washed over me. A man’s voice called out, impatient and gruff. “Open up! Building management! We’re here for the snake!” My hand was on the doorknob when Beth’s voice screamed through the phone. “SHAWNA, DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!”

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1 My wife of three years, in a marriage that had been sexless from the start, was pregnant. And she wanted the world to know. She’d made a thousand copies of the ultrasound report, announcing to anyone and everyone that she was carrying another man’s child. I heard she and her friends were even placing bets, wagering on how spectacularly I would lose my mind. “Remember how Christopher begged to marry you? He knelt before your mother for hours, right there on the street for all to see.” “He’s going to go absolutely ballistic when he finds out you’re pregnant.” Clarissa’s face twisted in disgust at the memory. “We don’t even have a marriage license. What kind of husband is he? He’s nothing but a dog who knows how to grovel at my mother’s feet. If it weren’t for him, I would have been free years ago!” Fearing I might retaliate against the child’s real father, she had her security detail break my leg. Then they threw me in the cellar and left me there for seven days and seven nights. By the time they let me out, she was already in another country, getting married to someone else. This time, I didn’t fight. I calmly called her mother. “Mrs. Sterling,” I said, my voice hollow. “The five-year pact… I’ve lost. I’ll keep my promise. I’ll disappear forever.” Two freshly printed marriage certificates slapped down on the table in front of me. “Caleb and I are legally married now,” Clarissa said, her voice dripping with venom. “All that’s left is the ceremony. You’ve clung to me for three years. Isn’t that enough?” My eyes stung, transfixed by the smiling photo of them on the official paper. Clarissa and I had a wedding, a grand affair, but she’d refused to ever make it legal. Seeing my stunned silence, a triumphant smirk played on her lips. “I’ve already moved Caleb in. And just so we’re clear, I married him because I’m carrying his child.” Her gaze dropped to my right leg. “If you have a shred of dignity left, you’ll make things clear to my mother. But if you keep harassing me,” she added, her voice turning to ice, “I won’t hesitate to have your other leg broken.” My injured leg, left untreated for seven days, had gone from searing agony to a dead, heavy numbness. “Fine,” I managed to choke out, closing my eyes. She hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. A flicker of surprise crossed her face. “I’ll move into the guest room,” I said, my voice flat. “He’s the father. It’s only right he stays in the master bedroom to take care of you.” I meant every word. A week ago, when she’d paraded her pregnancy, making sure everyone knew the child wasn’t mine, she’d turned me into a city-wide joke. Three years. Three years, and I still couldn’t melt the ice around her heart. “And don’t worry,” I added. “I’ll handle your mother. I won’t bother you again.” Clarissa’s brow furrowed in suspicion, but her expression quickly returned to its usual coldness. “Don’t even think about pulling any tricks. I’ve given the staff a vacation, so you won’t be moving into the guest room.” She paused, a cruel smile spreading across her face. “I’m pregnant. I need someone to look after me. From now on, you’re on call, 24/7.” She said it so matter-of-factly, as if savoring some twisted new game, waiting to see me break. I opened my mouth, but in the end, all I could manage was a slight nod. The game seemingly bored her already. She glanced at my leg and called for the family doctor. When he saw the state of my leg, his face went pale. Without treatment, the wound had begun to rot. The men Clarissa had sent hadn’t just broken it; they’d tortured me, driving nails through the bone just for the fun of it. The doctor’s expression was grave. “Mr. Hayes, this injury needs immediate hospital attention. If it’s as bad as it looks, it may require amputation.” My fist clenched at my side, knuckles white. Clarissa, however, just scoffed. “He’s a grown man. A little scratch and you’re talking about amputation? At that rate, no one would survive.” She let out a derisive laugh and turned back to her room. “Don’t think this will make me pity you,” she called over her shoulder. “Even if you died, I would never forgive you.” 2 The bedroom door wasn’t fully closed. Caleb was in there with her. Soon, the sounds of their laughter, followed by the soft, wet sounds of kisses, drifted into the hall. The pity in the doctor’s eyes was a physical blow, sending a chill through my entire body. I forced myself to stand, trying to block out the noises, but they only seemed to grow louder, echoing in my head. I didn’t snap out of it until Mrs. Sterling arrived. She took one look at my leg, and her face darkened into a thundercloud. Her gaze shot to the half-open bedroom door, and she moved as if to storm in and confront Clarissa. I reached out and stopped her. “Mrs. Sterling,” I said, my voice raspy. “The pact we made three years ago. I concede.” “You were right. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t win her over.” “Once the contract is terminated, I’ll leave. I will never come back.” Mrs. Sterling, a woman I had only ever known as formidable and unyielding, looked at me with an uncharacteristic flicker of sympathy. Her voice softened. “Are you sure, Christopher? The five years aren’t up yet. If you give up now, you’ll have absolutely nothing.” “Think about it,” she urged. “I’ll give you a week. Come see me then to sign the termination papers.” I said nothing. She was right. To marry Clarissa, I had swallowed every last ounce of my pride. I had begged, pleaded, and in the end, I had signed over my entire inheritance—everything my parents had left me—to the Sterling family. Just then, Clarissa must have realized someone was there. She and Caleb emerged, their clothes hastily straightened. Her face went rigid when she saw her mother. “Mom? What are you doing here?” Caleb stood beside her, a picture of obedience. “Hello, Mom,” he chirped. Mrs. Sterling let out a cold laugh, her eyes fixed on her daughter. “And where do you keep Christopher? He grew up with you, Clarissa. Have you forgotten everything his parents did for us? Do you have no respect for their memory?” Clarissa’s pale face flushed a deep, angry red. She shot me a look of pure hatred. “Mom, he called you, didn’t he? I knew he was up to something!” She turned on me. “Christopher, I can’t believe how shameless you are. You were the one who begged to marry me. I never once said I loved you. You’re the one who trapped me, who destroyed my freedom!” She defiantly grabbed Caleb’s hand, lifting her chin. “I’m pregnant, and that’s a fact. If you want to stay in my life, you’d better get used to playing the part of the cuckolded husband!” The insolence in her voice made Mrs. Sterling tremble with rage. She raised her hand and slapped Clarissa hard across the face. “One day,” she seethed, “you will regret this.” It was the first time in all these years she had ever taken my side. Before, she only had eyes for the business empire my parents had built, never caring about the war between Clarissa and me. Caleb rushed to Clarissa’s side, his face a mask of concern. “Ma’am, I know you look down on me now, but one day you’ll see how much I truly love Clarissa!” Mrs. Sterling laughed, a sharp, mocking sound. “Your love? Can it compare to what Christopher gave up? All you do is spend our family’s money!” Humiliated, Caleb lowered his head. After her mother left, Clarissa unleashed all her pent-up fury on me. “Don’t think for a second that just because my mother is on your side, you’ve won. I will never, ever look at you again. Get that through your head!” She grabbed Caleb’s arm. “Let’s go, Caleb. The air in here makes me sick.” As she stormed past, she deliberately slammed her shoulder into mine. I watched her go, and for a moment, the girl I remembered from our childhood grew hazy, almost disappearing completely. We’d known each other for over twenty years. The girl who used to follow me everywhere was gone. Now, whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was the scene from three years ago. Me, on my knees, begging her mother to let me marry her. And Clarissa, bursting into my house late that night after she found out, her voice raw with grief and rage as she screamed at me, asking why. 3 “Your parents aren’t even in the ground yet, and you’re already thinking about marrying me? How can you be so vile, so depraved?” “I have a boyfriend, Christopher! Why are you and my mother deciding my future for me? What gives you the right?” It was the first time I truly understood how little I meant to her. How despicable I was in her eyes. The very next day, Clarissa’s boyfriend broke up with her and vanished without a trace. She blamed me for all of it. She walked through our wedding ceremony like a ghost, her heart filled with nothing but resentment. And it was then that her mother took me aside. “Christopher,” she’d said, her tone all business. “We have our agreement, but you and Clarissa cannot be legally married.” “She’s right about one thing. As you are now, you are not worthy of her.” After my parents died, I had no power, no status. I was nothing compared to the soaring fortunes of the Sterling family. I let out a long, slow breath. Maybe my decision was wrong from the very beginning. After that day, Clarissa stopped coming home. Caleb, however, made his presence felt, sending me messages designed to torment me. [Mr. Hayes, this is my first time being a father. I was hoping I could ask you for some advice.] [You’re so much older than me. You must have more experience with these things, right?] The constant, smug provocations grated on my last nerve. I couldn’t sleep with her, couldn’t even touch her. For three years, we slept in the same bed with a wooden plank between us. If I accidentally brushed against her, she’d act so disgusted she’d nearly vomit, scrubbing herself raw in the shower as if to flay my touch from her skin. The incessant buzzing of my phone finally broke me. I picked it up and called him. “Is your phone just for show, or did you forget how to use it to look up information? Did Clarissa not tell you we’ve never been intimate? Or are you just texting me to gloat? Because if you are, you’ve got the wrong guy. Clarissa and I are finished. I sincerely wish you both the best—” It wasn’t Caleb’s voice that answered, but Clarissa’s, sharp and full of derision. “Christopher, do you really think I’d fall for your pathetic act again? The moment I’m out the door, you call my mother to come and fight your battles.” “I’m so glad I had your leg broken,” she spat. “God knows what you would have done to Caleb otherwise.” She hung up, the dial tone buzzing in my ear. My hand, clutching the phone, tightened until my knuckles were white, then fell open, limp and powerless. When I made that pact with her mother three years ago, I should have known I would lose. I just never imagined I would lose this badly. I had planned to just wait quietly until it was time for me to leave. But the next day, Clarissa and Caleb stormed back into the house. Her eyes were bloodshot and her clothes were disheveled, as if she’d been in a fight. Her gaze, when it landed on me, was filled with a murderous rage. Before I could react, Caleb threw himself to his knees in front of me. “Mr. Hayes, I know you’re angry with me. If my messages upset you, I apologize. I was wrong.” “But you can’t convince Mrs. Sterling to make Clarissa get an abortion! That baby is a miracle for us. We’ve wanted it for so long.” My head swam. I opened my mouth to defend myself, to say I’d done no such thing. The next second, a searing pain exploded across my cheek. Clarissa slapped me again and again, so hard her own palm was red and trembling by her side. She snatched a pair of scissors from the table and pointed them at me, her voice a hysterical shriek. “You make me sick, Christopher! You disgust me!” “Three years ago, you forced me to marry you against my will! And now you want to kill my child? What kind of poison have you been feeding my mother?” I touched my burning cheek, my lips moving, but the words wouldn’t come. “I didn’t…” 4 Clarissa wasn’t listening. She had lost all reason. She lunged, plunging the scissors deep into my shoulder. Blood bloomed across my shirt, staining her hands crimson. She seemed to freeze, shocked that I hadn’t moved, hadn’t even tried to defend myself. When sanity finally returned to her eyes, the scissors slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor. She stumbled back a step, and Caleb quickly steadied her. Wiping tears from her face, she stared at me, her voice breaking. “Christopher, just stop loving me, please. Let me go.” “I’m going to show you,” she whispered, her voice gaining a feverish strength. “I’m going to show you how happy Caleb and I can be.” She left, leaning on him for support. All the physical pain vanished, eclipsed by the agony of her words. They were like the scissors, twisting deeper and deeper with every beat of my heart. The “happiness” Clarissa spoke of was a multi-million-dollar campaign to launch Caleb into the public eye. She bought reporters and media outlets, plastering their perfect love story across every screen and billboard in the city. She paraded him around like a prized possession she had kept hidden for too long. She threw a lavish party at the house, introducing Caleb to all her major business partners and investors. These were things she had never, not once, done for me. Through it all, I remained calm, simply counting down the days. The week Mrs. Sterling had given me was up today. After this, Clarissa and I would likely never see each other again. “You’ve got some nerve, Christopher,” Clarissa’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You know this party is for Caleb, yet you’re still shamelessly hanging around.” She strode toward me, Caleb and a few of her friends trailing behind her like a royal court. A wave of mocking laughter erupted. “Clarissa, honey, when you have a leech that just won’t let go, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind and just rip it off.” “What is he now, anyway? The third wheel?” “You know, the Hayes family used to be one of the biggest names in this city. Such a shame what happened. All of them gone, except for him. No wonder he’s so desperate to cling to you.” The words seemed to grate on Clarissa. She shot me a look of pure loathing, as if my very presence was a stain on her reputation. She ordered her security to throw all of my belongings out onto the lawn. Then, in front of everyone, she made her grand proclamation. “Three years ago, Christopher Hayes, a man with no shame and no dignity, begged me to be with him. He tore me away from the love of my life, and now he’s trying to kill my child.” “From this day forward, I, Clarissa Sterling, have nothing to do with Christopher Hayes. The Sterling family and the Hayes family are finished!” Her powerful voice hammered into me, and for a moment, my thoughts seized. I leaned against the wall for support, the hand behind my back trembling uncontrollably. Compared to the dazzling star she was now, I truly was nothing. I wasn’t worthy of her. Seeing my silence, Clarissa’s expression softened as she turned and took Caleb’s hand. “I’ve decided Caleb and I are getting married, a real wedding this time, in twenty-two different countries—”

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I flew back to the States for my adopted daughter’s wedding, the suit already picked out and waiting. But a former high school classmate recognized me and pointed, his voice loud with ridicule. “Well, if it isn’t our class copycat. In high school, you wore whatever Adrian Prescott wore. Can’t break the habit, can you? Look at you, wearing a suit just like his. Do you even know what kind of event this is?” Adrian offered a phony apology, but his eyes were laced with venom. “Sorry, Victor. I put up with you mimicking my style back then, but today is my wedding day. I’m really not in the mood to indulge your little copycat routine anymore.” He egged on his cronies, who then proceeded to try and strip me naked in front of everyone. I tried to fight back, but he slapped me so hard I hit the floor. Staring at his face, alight with vicious excitement, I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a cold, silent laugh. I’d tolerated it when he copied me, then twisted the truth to accuse me of being the mimic. But this time? This time, I was his future father-in-law. And if I let him marry into my family after this, then I’ve already lost. 1 The moment my plane landed, I rushed to the hotel to change into the suit the household staff had prepared for me—the suit for the father of the bride. Today was my adopted daughter’s wedding. I say “adopted daughter,” but in reality, I’m only three years older than her. My seniority in the family is high. When Alexa’s parents passed away, she was brought into our family. The Vaughn family rules are strict, and after tracing the lines of the family tree, it turned out I was the only one exactly one generation above her. And so, at a young age, I became a father, with her placed under my legal guardianship. Because we were so close in age, we got along well. I took my paternal duties seriously, as laid out by the family charter, and managed to temper her wild, fearless, and somewhat spoiled nature into something more composed. Who would have thought that the tomboyish ‘princess’ of the city would now be getting married? I looked down at the exquisitely embroidered tuxedo and grimaced. At least the cut was modern. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been caught dead in it. The staff took my clothes to be laundered, and I was left alone to fix my hair. I glanced up and saw him—Adrian Prescott, my old high school classmate, basking in the glow of a fawning entourage. Their chirpy laughter was laced with flattery. Adrian soaked it all in, his smile growing wider with every compliment. But when his gaze landed on my suit, his expression instantly darkened. I felt a prickle of unease. My tuxedo was eerily similar to his, clearly the same custom design. “Well, well, who do we have here? It’s the wannabe. Still addicted to copying Adrian, huh?” “He’s too nice to call you out on it, but we’re not going to let it slide!” Many of them were old classmates. Their eyes darted to my suit, their faces twisting in contempt. One of Adrian’s closest friends pinched his nose, looking at me as if I were something foul. “Adrian’s suit was custom-made by a top designer, a gift from the princess herself. You think your cheap knockoff can compare?” “Today is Adrian’s wedding to the city’s darling, Alexa Vaughn. Were you even invited? Or did you just slither in here, dressed like that, trying to seduce someone?” My god. My own daughter was marrying Adrian Prescott. A wave of disgust washed over me. Back in high school, he was the one who copied my style, then used his popularity to flip the script and accuse me of being the mimic. I couldn’t be bothered to argue back then, more focused on my portfolio for studying abroad than on pointless drama. But the rumors festered, and I spent all of high school isolated and bullied. As much as I disliked him, he was the man Alexa loved. I had to show some decorum. I decided to just wait for their taunts to die down and then slip away. I’d get through the wedding and go home. But Adrian blocked my path, stepping hard on the toe of my shoe. A sharp pain shot up my leg. He feigned surprise and moved his foot, his face a mask of innocence. “Look, Victor, today is my big day. Just take off the suit, okay? Don’t try to upstage me by wearing the same thing.” “After today, you can copy me all you want. I won’t mind a little thing like that.” 2 I stared at him, incredulous. This was a father-of-the-bride tuxedo. It was understated and formal, just a bit more modern than the usual fare. It was nothing like Adrian’s flashy groom’s tuxedo. Besides, his face was a work of art, sculpted by a celebrity makeup artist. He was clearly the center of attention. How could I possibly upstage him? I frowned, not wanting to waste my breath. “This is the father-of-the-bride’s suit. It would be inappropriate to take it off.” I tried to walk away, but in the next second, Adrian grabbed my arm. His eyes were red-rimmed as he began to tear at my clothes. “You all heard him! He admitted it’s a formal suit! He’s doing this on purpose!” he cried out. “Normally, I’d let it go, but this is my wedding day! How can I be expected to tolerate this humiliation?” As he ripped at my collar, he deliberately dug his sharp nails into my neck. Blood welled instantly, and I cried out in pain. Seeing the blood, his eyes grew even redder. He pushed me back into the crowd, shaking his head in feigned panic. “I didn’t mean to! It’s your fault for wearing this suit!” “My fiancée had this made for me! It’s deeply meaningful, and I won’t let anyone defile it!” He looked so heartbroken that his pack of sycophants swelled with righteous anger. His groomsmen immediately grabbed my arms, pinning me as they continued to rip at my collar, their eyes glinting with malice. “Adrian, don’t dirty your hands on this trash. This animal probably only owns two nice things. Touching him will just bring you bad luck.” “Let’s strip this bastard and see what kind of cheap crap he’s really wearing. How dare he copy you?” “Someone strong, come help! The little bitch is trying to fight back!” Before I could react, an arm snaked around my neck, choking me until the world started to go black. My limbs went weak, and no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t fight off the countless hands clawing at me. Tears of pure physical pain streamed from my eyes. “I’m… I’m Alexa’s father, agh—” Before I could finish, a fresh gash appeared on my mouth. The mob’s insults drowned out my words as they tore the suit from my body, leaving me curled on the cold floor, covered in wounds. They presented the tattered remains of my suit to Adrian like a trophy. He didn’t even glance at it. His eyes were locked on me. One of the guys holding me down saw I was still trying to speak and slapped me hard across the face. My cheek swelled instantly, a fiery pain shooting through my skull. Before I could recover, another slap landed on the other side. “There,” a voice sneered in my ear. “Made you symmetrical. You should thank me.” The room spun. Through the haze, I heard Adrian’s fake sobs. “Thank you, everyone. I’m so sorry you had to deal with this filth on such a happy day. It’s my fault for being too lenient with him in the past.” “He’s an old classmate, after all. With all those scars, what woman would ever want him? Not like me. I’m about to marry into the Vaughn family. I’ll be set for life.” He then picked up a nearby bottle of Macallan and, raising it high, poured it all over me. “Might as well use this. A little alcohol to disinfect Victor’s wounds.” He saw me gasp in agony and his eyes curved into a sickeningly sweet smile. “Don’t worry,” he said, feigning thoughtfulness. “I know this is too expensive for you to ever drink, but it’s my wedding. I can do whatever I want with it.” The autumn air was cool. Stripped to my underwear, I shivered violently, hugging myself like a fish left to die on the sand. The crowd, seeing this, seemed to take it as encouragement. They started grabbing bottles from the tables. “Great idea, Adrian! Let me try! I wonder how well this ‘82 Lafite disinfects.” Red wine streamed down my face, mixing with the blood from my cuts, a disgusting cocktail that dripped from my chin. “Hey, don’t you dare lick any of that. It’s mixed with your blood. How gross.” Their eyes were filled with malice and disgust. They laughed and joked, studying my pained expressions and describing them in detail for Adrian’s amusement. I couldn’t speak. Opening my mouth only earned me another slap. The alcohol on my open wounds felt like being rolled over hot steel. The pain was so intense it was becoming numb. I tried to stand, to escape this hell, but I just kept collapsing pathetically to the floor, triggering roars of laughter. “Trying to run? Not so fast. We gave you a chance earlier. You blew it.” He loomed over me, grinding the sole of his leather shoe into my fingers, listening with satisfaction to my weak whimpers of pain. Suddenly, someone hissed, “Isabelle’s here!”

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On the way to finalize our divorce, Liam and I were hit by a truck. Just before I lost consciousness, I heard him whisper, “If I could do it all over, I would’ve said yes when Ashley confessed her love.” “To live a life full of passion with her… that’s the life I’ve always wanted.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our engagement party. Just like last time, Ashley stood there, holding a bouquet, asking Liam if he would choose her. Without a single glance at me, Liam took the ring and knelt before Ashley. “Ashley, I love you. Will you marry me?” I knew then that he had been reborn, too. So, I let them have their moment. He got his wish, a life of freedom and passion with Ashley. But later, he came crawling back, kneeling before me, begging through tears for me to marry him again. 1 Ashley was stunned by the sudden turn of events. When Liam asked again, tears of joy streamed down her face. “Yes, I will!” They embraced tightly, completely oblivious to the icy tension that had gripped the room. All eyes were on me. I took off my veil, tossed it aside, and watched the deeply in love couple with a cold, detached gaze. Liam led Ashley onto the stage and took the microphone. “Today was supposed to be my engagement party,” he announced. “But standing up here, I’ve realized that the person I truly love is Ashley.” “I’ve let her slip through my fingers too many times. This time, I won’t make the same mistake. I want to spend the rest of my life with her!” No one in the room applauded their whirlwind romance. Liam finally looked at me, his voice devoid of all emotion. “I wasn’t thinking clearly before. If you want compensation, I can give you five hundred thousand. I hope you’ll stay out of my life from now on.” His eyes were cold and numb, a reflection of the twenty years of marriage that had worn him down in our past life. But when he looked at Ashley, his eyes burned with the same passion he’d had in his twenties. We had dated for three years before deciding to get engaged. The moment I said yes, he had announced it to everyone we knew. We were showered with blessings from all sides, with one exception: Ashley. She was his junior in college and had fallen for him at first sight. She orchestrated “chance” encounters all over campus, and after graduation, she found ways to stay close to him. Whenever she saw me, she’d flash a bright, provocative smile. “You’re not married yet,” she’d say. “I’m not giving up. I’ll make him see that life has more than one path!” I was always unsettled by her presence, but Liam would just pull me into his arms and coldly reject her. In our past life, to prove his unwavering commitment to me, he had rushed to hold the engagement party right after proposing. Ashley had shown up at that party, too, wearing a stunning wedding gown. She looked beautiful yet fragile, her gaze fixed stubbornly on Liam. “Liam,” she had declared, “this is the last time I’ll confess my feelings to you. If you reject me again, I will disappear from your world forever!” In that life, Liam had taken my hand, knelt, and placed the ring on my finger, his actions a silent, final rejection of Ashley. But this time, he took Ashley’s hand and confessed his love to her in front of everyone. As the room remained frozen in a stunned silence, I simply took a step back and let them steal my spotlight. Only after their passionate declarations were over did I speak, my voice calm and even. “I wish you both the best. Liam, I hope we never see each other again.” 2 Liam flinched, clearly surprised by how easily I had let go. Ashley, on the other hand, let out a squeal of delight, planting several kisses on his lips before finally turning to me. “Sarah, I told you he would choose me!” I gave her a half-hearted nod and turned to leave. As I stepped off the stage, I stumbled. A cool hand steadied me. “Miss Paltrow,” a smooth voice said, “perhaps it’s time you started looking at other people.” I looked up at the man holding my arm—Adrian Stanton. A small smile touched my lips. I recognized his face from countless financial news segments in my past life. I just never expected to see him at my own disastrous engagement party. “Like who?” I asked. A smile spread across Adrian’s face, his dark eyes reflecting only me. He pressed a slip of paper into my palm. “My number. Call me when you have a moment.” I glanced at him, then gathered my skirt and headed for the dressing room. My parents and Liam’s parents followed me, their faces grim. Liam’s parents offered a forced, apologetic smile. “Sarah, our son has been so foolish. But what’s done is done. We want to compensate you. Just tell us what you need, and we’ll make it happen.” My mother rolled her eyes. “Who cares about your…” I quickly grabbed her hand, cutting her off. Then, with a bright smile, I said, “Auntie, in that case, how about you give me that plot of land in the North District?” Right now, that piece of land was practically worthless. But in a few years, its value would skyrocket. It was that very plot that had saved Liam’s family from bankruptcy in our past life. His parents drew up a contract on the spot. I beamed. After they left, my mother smacked my arm. “How can you be smiling after being publicly humiliated like that?” I pointed to the contract. “With this? How could I not be?” I truly was happy. In our past life, a series of bad decisions by Liam’s family had dragged my family’s business down with them into bankruptcy. The Stanton family was only saved by that single plot of land. I, on the other hand, had to pour every ounce of my energy into work just to salvage my family’s company. He had thrown tantrums more than once, complaining about how dull and boring our life was. Why couldn’t I just put work aside so we could see the world, have some fun? That’s when Ashley had reappeared. She had become a famous travel blogger, her location tag bouncing from one country to another. Liam was mesmerized by her videos. He started using “business trips” as an excuse to fly to Africa to watch the wildebeest migration with her. One was wild and free, the other yearned for that same freedom. It was inevitable that they would be drawn to each other. His “business trips” became more and more frequent. When I finally grew suspicious, I booked a seat on the same flight and discovered the truth. When I confronted him, the coldness in his eyes stopped me in my tracks. He said that being with me was like being trapped in stagnant water, utterly lifeless. Only with Ashley did he feel alive. Eventually, he hit rock bottom. “Let’s get a divorce,” he’d said. “You can have three-quarters of everything. You can have the kids. I just want my freedom.” “A person like you,” he’d sneered, “all you care about is money and profit. You’ll never understand the joy of a life without constraints.” He sounded like his eighteen-year-old self again, arrogant and reckless. But all I felt was a sense of ridicule. A life of passion and freedom was certainly appealing, but without a material foundation, it would ultimately lead to an empty void after the initial thrill wore off. Once he had had his fill of adventure, he would realize he had nothing to show for his life. For a long time after that, I heard nothing from Liam. I’d only catch glimpses of him when Ashley’s account popped up on my social media feed. It seemed he was truly living the life he’d always wanted. But I didn’t dwell on it. Because I, too, had found a new life and a new love, one who truly shared my ambitions. 3 I walked into the Stanton Corporation headquarters, holding a proposal for the North District development project. The elevator doors opened, and I found myself face-to-face with Liam. “Sarah Paltrow?” Behind him, Ashley looked up at me. They were both decked out in ski gear, a brand owned by Stanton Corp. I knew one of Adrian’s subsidiaries was looking for influencers to be brand ambassadors; I just hadn’t expected it to be them. I gave a curt nod in greeting and moved to step into the elevator. Liam blocked my path. “How did you know I’d be here?” “Sarah,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance, “I just got back in the country, and you’re already chasing me. Can’t you just leave me alone?” Ashley clung to Liam’s arm, her eyes full of smug satisfaction. “Sarah, you were so dramatic about leaving him. Why are you chasing him now? Liam and I are doing great. I heard things aren’t going so well for you, though?” “I heard the Paltrow family business is on the brink of collapse?” she asked, looking me up and down with the disdain one reserves for a failure. “Oh, Sarah, you’re so pathetic. Your family’s business is gone, you’re getting old, you’ve never even seen the world, and now Liam doesn’t love you anymore. Why don’t you come be our assistant? We could even pay you a little extra.” I looked at them as if they were a pair of fools. Had all that traveling knocked their brains loose? The Paltrow Corporation had been restructured and rebranded ages ago. The “Paltrow business” they were talking about was just a small subsidiary I’d left for my younger brother to practice on. “No, thank you,” I said calmly. “I’m doing just fine.” I tried to move past them to press the elevator button. But Ashley was relentless. She waved at the receptionist. “Does Stanton Corp just let anyone in? Does this woman even have an appointment?” The receptionist hurried over. “Miss Paltrow does have an…” Ashley cut her off. “So what if she has an appointment? I was personally invited here by Mr. Stanton himself. If you offend me, I’ll have him fire you!” Liam chuckled beside her. “Exactly. Besides, this ‘Miss Paltrow’ isn’t really here to see Mr. Stanton. She’s just trying to harass me. I can handle this for him.” He then pulled out an old photo of us from his wallet and showed it to the receptionist as if it were proof. “Sarah, you really went to great lengths to find me, even booking an appointment with Mr. Stanton. It’s pathetic,” he said. “If you have something to say, let’s take it outside. Don’t embarrass yourself here.” The receptionist’s gaze wavered. “Miss Paltrow, perhaps it would be best if you left.” I felt a knot of frustration tighten in my chest. I couldn’t believe how these two could so brazenly impose their own narrative on a situation and be so utterly self-righteous about it. I turned to the receptionist. “Please call Mr. Stanton’s secretary and authorize the private executive elevator for me.” She looked at me, hesitating. “Miss Paltrow, you only have an appointment with Mr. Stanton. The executive elevator is for… well, executives.” “Besides,” she added, her suspicion growing, “if you’re really just here to see Mr. Miller, you don’t actually need to see Mr. Stanton at all.” Ashley snorted. “Sarah, stop pretending. Your family is practically bankrupt. You have no business using the executive elevator.” The commotion was attracting attention from other clients waiting in the lobby. Their whispers were loud enough for us to hear. “Who does she think she is? Trying to use Mr. Stanton’s private elevator?” “Probably another gold digger. Even though Mr. Stanton is engaged, he still attracts them like flies.” The audience seemed to fuel Liam and Ashley’s performance. Their voices grew louder. “Sarah, I know we had a past, but can you please stop harassing me here? Even though I have a good relationship with Mr. Stanton, I can’t just let you cause a scene!” “There’s a coffee shop outside. Let’s talk there.” 4 I glanced at my watch. My meeting with Adrian was in a few minutes. I was starting to get anxious. “Liam, Ashley, I told you, my being here has nothing to do with you. Now, please move.” “Nothing to do with us?” Liam’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’ve been out of the country for months. I land today, and the moment I finish my photoshoot, you appear. You’re telling me this isn’t a calculated move?” “Sarah, you were the one who said you hoped we’d never see each other again. But the moment I’m back, you’re right here. You think I don’t know what you’re thinking?” A flicker of anger ignited within me. “Are you two done? If you are, then get out of my way!” “Sarah, darling, don’t get so flustered!” Ashley cooed. “We’re just trying to catch up. After all, Liam did choose me in the end.” “He still feels guilty about you. We’ve been so happy these past few years, so he worries about you sometimes.” I finally realized it. These two were living in a world of their own making. I stopped arguing and sat down on the sofa, pulling out my phone to call Adrian. “I’m being held up in your lobby,” I said. “The two people blocking my way claim to have a good relationship with you. You should probably come down.” I hung up before he could reply. Liam and Ashley exchanged a look and laughed. “Sarah, are you really calling Mr. Stanton?” I ignored her, focusing on my proposal. Ashley snatched the proposal from my hands, flipped through it dismissively, and then ripped it to shreds. “What’s this? A few pieces of paper? Do you have any idea who Mr. Stanton is? How dare you speak to him like that?” she sneered. “You probably just dialed a random number.” I watched as the proposal my team had worked on all night turned into confetti. A wave of frustration and rage washed over me. I slapped her, hard. “Ashley, have you gone through life without ever facing consequences for your actions?” She clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You hit me?” “Sarah! I was personally invited here by Mr. Stanton! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” “I was going to put in a good word for you, maybe get you a meeting with him to save your precious family business.” Liam rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms to inspect the damage. “Sarah, you really don’t appreciate kindness, do you? Apologize to Ashley right now, and maybe she’ll still introduce you to Mr. Stanton. If you don’t, you’ll have to face the consequences!” The receptionist’s face had gone pale. “Miss Paltrow! How could you hit Miss Lin? She’s Mr. Stanton’s personal guest! What if something serious happens? Can you afford to take responsibility?” Liam sneered. “Sarah, if you kneel and apologize, I’ll put in a good word for you with Mr. Stanton.” The commotion had drawn everyone’s attention. No one noticed the elevator doors slide open. Not until a warm hand rested on my shoulder. “Honey, what’s got you so upset?”

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My childhood friend and I got into a car accident. When I woke up, the love of my life, my best friend since we were kids, had amnesia. I was physically unharmed, but my body was now home to a second soul: my grandmother, who had passed away years ago. “That little rascal!” Her voice boomed in my head. “Using that amnesia excuse to trick my sweet girl again. If I were still walking this earth, I’d break his legs!” My eyes widened in shock. My grandmother’s voice continued its tirade in my mind. “In my past life, that little heartbreaker Primo Sinclair caused my darling so much pain. She spent years with him, suffering, until she had a heart attack that nearly killed her. And where was he? Celebrating a birthday with Victoria Cole! Makes my blood boil!” “Sweetheart, this time, when your grandfather asks you to choose a husband, you absolutely cannot choose Primo. You have to choose Christoph Hurley. That boy is reliable!” As if on cue, my grandfather walked into the hospital room with several other family elders. They laid out photos of the heirs to the four great families, telling me to pick a husband. Without a moment’s hesitation, I chose my sworn enemy, Christoph Hurley. I was always my grandma’s girl. If she said Primo didn’t love me, then I didn’t want him anymore. 1 My grandfather looked at me, his expression hesitant. “Serena, you and that little troublemaker have always been at each other’s throats. Are you sure you want him as your husband? Think carefully. Once the engagement is set, there’s no going back.” My grandfather was a titan in the world of archaeology. He had decreed that whichever heir of the four great families married me would secure a partnership with our family business. Primo’s mother was also stunned and quickly tried to persuade me. “Serena, sweetheart, I know Primo has amnesia and has forgotten you, but you’ve always loved him so much. Why aren’t you willing to wait for him? Maybe once you’re married, his memory will return.” Grandma let out a sharp scoff in my mind. “What nonsense! In the last life, that Victoria girl broke my darling’s jewelry. My sweet girl barely said a word, and Primo threw her out of the house. My poor Serena, in nothing but her pajamas, stood in the pouring rain for hours. She almost froze to death.” “It was Christoph who came and held an umbrella over her, took her to a hotel to rest. His mouth is sharp, yes, but his heart is in the right place.” Hearing this, a sharp pain lanced through my heart. I didn’t understand why my grandmother kept talking about a “past life,” about things that seemed to have never happened. But her words felt so real, as if I had lived them myself. They left me feeling suffocated, my chest filled with a thousand pounds of wet cotton. Besides, Victoria really was Primo’s first love. They had a deep history. I was just the one who came after. “Grandpa, I’ve made my choice. I want Christoph Hurley.” My grandfather gathered the photos and ruffled my hair. “Alright, my dear. Grandpa respects your choice. In two days, I will publicly announce your engagement to Christoph Hurley.” Grandma let out a long sigh of relief. “That’s right. This time, my little darling won’t be tangled up in the miseries of the past. She’ll finally be happy.” While my grandfather discussed matters with the elders, I changed my clothes and decided to take a walk outside the hospital. To my surprise, three tall, handsome men were standing right outside my door. They were all my childhood friends, all potential candidates for my hand. Primo was there. Only Christoph was absent. Caleb grinned and sauntered over, his curiosity piqued. “Serena, I hear your grandfather is picking a fiancé for you from the four of us. Who did you choose?” Owen chimed in playfully. “Do you even have to ask? It’s obviously Primo. Everyone in our circle knows Serena is head over heels for him. Treats him like a precious treasure.” Primo shot me a cool, detached glance. “I don’t remember anything from the past three years. I only remember that Victoria is my girlfriend.” He paused. “But I know we were together during those three years I’ve lost. Even though I don’t love you now, I can’t defy my father’s wishes. Since the engagement is set, I will marry you.” Grandma sneered. “In his dreams! In the last life, Primo used this same amnesia act to openly flirt with Victoria while draining my sweet girl dry, stealing our family’s fortune, and driving my darling to depression and a fatal illness. That rotten scoundrel can go to hell!” I looked at Primo’s indifferent expression. Without my grandmother’s warning, I probably would have fallen for his lies. I really did love him. And I used to believe he loved me too. Like three years ago, when he lit up the entire city with fireworks just for me. His eyes were so full of devotion, his words so sweet. “Serena, I want to marry you. I want to make you the happiest woman in the world.” I had wept with joy and started a relationship with him. For three years, we were the picture of a happy, loving couple. I never imagined that he had never forgotten Victoria. He just didn’t want to offend my family, so he put on a show of loving me. Now, tired of the act, he was faking amnesia to openly declare his love for Victoria, all while condescending to marry me to secure the partnership with my family. Life doesn’t work that way. I wanted to retort, but seeing his smug, self-assured expression, I swallowed my words. Let him be smug for a couple more days. I was curious to see his reaction when he heard the truth from my grandfather’s own lips. Seeing my silence, Caleb nudged my shoulder. “So, Serena, did you choose Primo?” I replied calmly, “You’ll all know in two days.” With that, I turned to leave. Behind me, Owen clicked his tongue. “Primo, it’s definitely you. You don’t remember, but let me tell you. When you were seriously ill, Serena searched the entire world for medicine for you. She heard the temple on North Mountain was miraculous, so she knelt and climbed nine thousand, nine hundred steps just to pray for your recovery. She’s completely smitten with you.” “Is that so?” Primo chuckled, his voice lazy. “I had no idea she loved me that much.” A sharp pain twisted in my chest. My vision blurred with tears, but I held them back. My love for Primo was an open secret in our social circle. Everyone laughed at me for being a doormat, but I didn’t care. I lost my parents when I was young, and my grandparents were always away on archaeological digs. I was an easy target for bullies. Only Primo protected me. I had loved him since we were children. When he confessed his feelings, I cried with joy and swore to be the best girlfriend he could ever have. But all his kindness had an ulterior motive. He didn’t deserve my sincere love. “Serena, wait.” Someone called my name. I turned to see Primo. He strolled over, one hand in his pocket. “I know you chose me. I’ll marry you, but my heart belongs to Victoria. I hope you can respect that and not interfere.” I stared at him. “You have amnesia. Why are you so certain I would choose you?” Primo frowned. “Everyone says you love me. Who else would you choose?” I gave a bitter smile. So he knew. He knew how much I loved him. And he chose to trample on my feelings anyway. “Don’t worry. I won’t bother you anymore. I’ll grant you your wish.” I thought to myself, he’ll probably be thrilled when he finds out I chose Christoph. Hearing my quick agreement, Primo froze for a second. As I continued toward the exit, he subconsciously reached for me. Suddenly, a scooter swerved recklessly toward me. The wheel slammed into my leg, and I crumpled to the ground, my hands scraping against the rough pavement. Pain shot through me. Victoria’s face went pale. She scrambled off her scooter, crying as she tried to help me up. “Serena, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you! Please don’t be mad at me.” Before I could say a word, my grandmother’s furious voice erupted in my head. “This girl is pure trouble! Just like last time, always playing the victim or turning the tables to bully my sweet girl. She’s got Primo wrapped around her little finger. Those two are a matched set of bad news!” Seeing Victoria’s tear-streaked face, Primo’s heart melted. “It’s alright, Victoria. It’s a small thing. No one will blame you while I’m here.” He helped her up, then shot me a warning look. “She just bumped into you. You’re not going to make a big deal out of it, are you?” My arm was scraped raw. I gritted my teeth against the pain and pushed myself to my feet. Victoria looked at me pitifully. “Serena, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking. I’ll slap myself to make it up to you.” She raised her hand as if to strike her own face. Primo grabbed her wrist, then rounded on me. “Serena, it was an accident! Can you stop being such a bully all the time?” Grandma was even angrier. “That thick-skulled idiot! My sweet girl hasn’t said a single word, and that girl is crying her eyes out on her own. How dare he say my baby is bullying her! I’m so mad! Sweetheart, stand up for yourself! Slap the nonsense out of them!” Heeding her words, I raised my hand and slapped Victoria hard across the face. Then, I turned to Primo. “See? That is what you call bullying.” Victoria was stunned. Primo was frozen, his eyes turning cold. “Serena, you’ve gone too far…” I swung my arm again and slapped him just as hard. “That is what you call going too far.” For years, I had only ever obeyed him, never fought back. The blow left him completely bewildered. He stared at me, his teeth clenched. “Fine. Just fine. But you’ll regret laying a hand on me.” He turned to Victoria. “Victoria, let’s go. I’ll get you checked out.” Grandma scoffed. “Instead of caring for his injured fiancée, he’s fussing over some other girl. You’d only regret being with a blockhead like him! Oh, my poor baby, you’re hurt. It must hurt so much.” I looked down at my wound. Crimson blood was already seeping through. The bitterness and hurt I had suppressed came bubbling to the surface. When we were younger, whenever I got hurt, Primo would be frantic, wishing he could bear the pain for me. Maybe his love was a lie, but the friendship back then had felt real. Now, he ignored my injuries, even scolded me, terrified I would cause trouble for his true love. What my grandmother said felt more and more real. Even if I married him, I would just be repeating the same tragic story. 2 I wiped away my tears and went to find a nurse to bandage my hand. I noticed a group of nurses staring in one direction, so I followed their gaze. Just a wall away, I saw Victoria and Primo locked in an embrace, their eyes full of a soft, intimate light. I heard her gentle voice. “Primo, if Serena finds out you faked amnesia just so you could be with me openly, she’ll throw a fit, won’t she?” Primo stroked her hair. “So what if she knows? Everyone knows Serena loves me. Even with amnesia, she’ll be begging me to marry her.” Grandma snorted. “In his wildest dreams! My sweet girl didn’t choose you this time. She won’t be begging you for anything. Hmph, let’s see how smug you are in two days when the truth about the engagement comes out.” I smiled, though my face was as pale as paper, and there was no mirth in it. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I turned to leave with my bandaged hand. Suddenly, for reasons I couldn’t see, the crowd started screaming. “They have knives! Everyone, run!” The words ignited a panic. I was swept along with the crowd, but one of the assailants—a disgruntled patient’s family member causing a scene—grabbed me and raised a knife. I knew some self-defense, but my strength was limited. Seeing Primo notice the commotion, I swallowed my pride and screamed, “Primo, help me!” He instinctively started toward me, but Victoria clung to his arm, refusing to let go. “Primo, I’m scared! Please don’t go!” Primo hesitated. In that split second of hesitation, a new gash was added to my already injured arm. I sucked in a sharp breath of pain. Grandma was frantic. “Oh dear, this hospital dispute was a nasty one back then. Why did my sweet girl have to run into it today? And that deadbeat Primo! Faking amnesia doesn’t mean he’s actually forgotten everything. My baby would have walked through fire for him, and he won’t even save her! It’s too much!” I was losing strength from the pain. I clenched my teeth and yelled, “Primo, I’m begging you, help me! I’m going to die!” The words had barely left my mouth when Victoria let out a piercing scream. One of the assailants had lunged toward them. In an instant, Primo shielded her with his body and pulled her away, running. My mind went blank. I watched him run, protecting his true love, and a wave of despair washed over me. Even if the love was gone, I had loved him for so many years. I had been so good to him. In a life-or-death situation, couldn’t he spare me even a shred of pity? Couldn’t he help me, just once? Suddenly, the pressure on me was gone. Christoph Hurley kicked the man off me, pulled me into his arms, and shielded me as he pushed through the chaotic scene. “Go!” The chaos was quickly contained by security guards who subdued the assailants. I was still in shock, my body trembling uncontrollably. Christoph handed me a cup of hot water, his expression complex as he looked at me. I didn’t notice his mood, nor did I ask how he happened to be there. I just used my last bit of strength to thank him. News of the incident reached my grandfather, who was furious. He demanded an explanation from both the Sinclair and Cole families. The Coles quickly grounded Victoria and sent apology gifts. The Sinclairs were livid and forced Primo to come to my house to apologize.

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For the Christmas holidays, my girlfriend, Jessica, booked us on a trip abroad. The moment our plane landed, she coaxed me onto a charter bus. We drove for two days and two nights. As the landscape grew more and more familiar, a tremor ran through my entire body. This was it. The hometown I had escaped from four years ago. Sensing my unease, Jessica finally dropped the act. Her face twisted into a snarl as she told me she was selling me to a remote, illegal compound, one staffed entirely by women. And the “Boss” she kept mentioning? The head of that entire operation. My own sister. I had spent twenty years planning my escape, faking my own death to get away from her. And now, four years later, Jessica had tricked me and brought me right back. … Seeing me tremble, Jessica’s smile was sickeningly sweet. “Leo, you said you loved me, didn’t you? I’m in a lot of gambling debt. You’ll help me, won’t you?” The thought of what my sister would do to her made my voice shake. “Please, just send me back. If you need money, I’ll get it for you. I’ll work my entire life to support you, I swear!” Jessica’s expression soured. “You think I can wait that long?” she spat. “I owe a fortune! If I don’t pay it back in three days, they’ll kill me! I’ve kept you for two years, you useless piece of shit. It’s time you paid me back with interest!” The word “useless” made me shudder violently. Once, one of my sister’s underlings had muttered that I was useless, too afraid to even crush an ant. My sister had him buried in the dirt up to his neck, poured honey over his head, and let the ants do the rest. He was eaten alive. If my sister heard Jessica call me that, what would she do to her? Fear clawed at my heart. I looked at the woman I had loved for two years, and the tears finally broke free. “You said… you said you wanted to build a home with me. You said I was the only family you ever wanted…” Jessica’s hand, once so warm, caressed my face. Her words were ice. “That’s right. And family should help each other out, shouldn’t they? So help me, Leo.” I bit my lip, shaking my head frantically. A flicker of pity crossed her eyes. “You know, you’re most heart-wrenching when you cry, Leo,” she said softly. “You were the handsomest of all my boyfriends. The most innocent, too. If it wasn’t for the money, I really wouldn’t want to sell you.” Suddenly, her gaze turned vicious. “You’re mine. I can’t stand the thought of another woman doing those things to you!” She threw me down onto the floor of the bus and tied my hands behind my back with a rope. Then, she pulled a dagger from her coat and traced its edge along my cheek. “Leo, you don’t want to be defiled by them, do you? Let me help you with that.” A glint of cold steel, then a searing line of pain across my face. “NO!” I cried out in despair. My sister’s favorite thing, her most prized possession, was my face. When I was little, I knocked over a pot of boiling water and scalded my cheek. When she learned it might leave a scar, my sister had the maid’s hands broken and left her for the dogs. She threatened the doctor that if he couldn’t fix my face, she would peel the skin from his own. My sister always said my face was the living image of our dead father. She would never, ever allow it to be harmed. Jessica had just scarred my face. If my sister found out… I couldn’t bear to think about it. Forgetting the pain, I begged her. “Please, you can’t ruin my face!” Jessica laughed. “I already asked Roxy. She said the men at the compound don’t need a face. As long as their bodies work, it’s fine.” Roxy? The new foreman from four years ago? Before I could process it, Jessica slashed the dagger across my face again. The pain was so intense I couldn’t speak. Blood streamed into my eyes, turning the world crimson. “I know Roxy! Just take me to her, please!” If Roxy saw me, she would force Jessica to take me back. She had to. Jessica froze, then the knife cut even deeper. “So you were never really mine. Already trying to climb your way up to Roxy?” “I’ll destroy this face, and we’ll see how you seduce anyone else!” I screamed until I passed out. When I woke up, I’d been thrown out onto the dirt at the compound’s main gate. Standing nearby, talking to Jessica, was Roxy herself. “Roxy!” I rasped, my voice raw. She looked over, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “How does he know my name?” Jessica’s face paled. She lunged forward, grinding her heel onto my mouth. “He must have overheard my call on the bus. Don’t worry, it’s useless for him to know now.” Roxy considered this for a moment, then stuck a cigarette between her lips. “Is that so? You wouldn’t dare pull any tricks. How many is this now?” Jessica ground her heel into my mouth one last time before scrambling over to light Roxy’s cigarette. “This is the seventh. Don’t worry, I know the rules. He’s an orphan, no family, no one to come looking for him. He was even a virgin when I got him.” Roxy crouched down and blew a smoke ring in my face, studying me. A sliver of hope rekindled within me. She knew me. If she recognized me, she would make Jessica take me away. Immediately. After all, if the Boss found out one of her own people had kidnapped me, they would all be dead. “Tsk. What did you do to his face? He’s hideous.” Roxy looked away in disgust. My heart sank. She didn’t recognize me. Had Jessica truly disfigured me so completely? The thought brought a wave of despair so profound I wanted to weep, but my throat was clogged with dust and blood. “He was putting up a fight,” Jessica said quickly. “What if he used his face to seduce someone and escape? I ruined it to be safe. It’s not like the face matters anyway.” She leaned down, her voice a low, triumphant whisper in my ear. “See? Give up on seducing Roxy. She thinks you’re ugly.” With all my strength, I squeezed out two words. “You’ll… die…” Roxy’s eyebrows shot up. She kicked Jessica aside and crouched in front of me, a grim smile on her face. “This kid… did he just tell us to go to hell?” Seeing that sinister grin, I shook my head in terror. No! That’s not what I meant! I meant you have to get me out of here, or you will die! “Aaargh!” Roxy pried my mouth open and pressed the glowing ember of her cigarette onto my tongue. The searing pain, the acrid smell of burning flesh, filled the air along with my screams. “Ugly piece of shit, threatening us when you’re about to die!” Roxy spat a thick wad of phlegm onto my face. Jessica grabbed a nearby stick and jabbed it violently into my mouth. “How dare you offend Roxy, you little bastard! I’ll teach you to scream!” Blood and splinters filled my throat. I was suffocating, tears streaming down my face. Was I going to die here? “Alright, that’s enough. He’s no good to us dead,” Roxy said, stopping her. Jessica immediately dropped the bloody stick. “Right. So, do we go sign the contract and get the money now?” Two large men hoisted me up and began dragging me toward the compound. Just then, a black sedan pulled up—my sister’s car. I thrashed wildly, throwing myself with all my might toward the wheels. The car stopped. The back door opened, and my sister stepped out. She looked down at me on the ground, her brow furrowed. Sister, it’s me! It’s your brother! I strained to look up at her, my eyes pleading for help. Roxy grabbed me and slapped me hard across the face. “You damn mutt, trying to run into the Boss’s car!” My vision went black for a second, and I spat out a mouthful of blood. It splattered across my sister’s immaculate high-heeled shoes. Roxy went pale. She dropped to her knees, frantically wiping the shoes. “I’m so sorry, Boss! This new one is a real handful. I’ll get it clean right now!” Jessica, seeing this, also knelt to help. My sister narrowed her eyes, her gaze falling on me. “Oh? A fresh delivery?” “Yes, Boss. This one’s trouble. To avoid any problems, we ruined his face. He even had the nerve to curse us to death just now!” Roxy answered cautiously. My sister seemed intrigued. “Heh. The first one to come here with the guts to talk back. Is he a university student?” “Yes! Just graduated this year. An honors student, too!” Jessica chimed in eagerly. My sister looked thoughtful. She glanced at me again and sighed. “If my Leo were still alive, he’d be about that age… graduating from university…” Hearing her say my name, I began to twist and moan frantically. Sister, it’s me! I am Leo! “Shit, hold still, you bastard!” Roxy kicked me hard in the face. The wounds split open again, blood welling up. My mouth and tongue were so mangled I couldn’t form a single word, only broken, agonized whimpers. “Hm?” My sister paused, then crouched down, studying me closely. My heart pounded with excitement. I tried to open my mouth to call her name, but a tickle in my throat made me cough up another gout of blood. It splashed onto her face. Roxy and Jessica froze in sheer terror. One fumbled for a tissue to wipe away the blood while the other started dragging me away. Spotting a large iron drum filled with filthy water, Roxy hoisted me up. The next second, she plunged my head into it. The foul water flooded my nose and mouth. The feeling of suffocation was immediate, my lungs screaming in agony. Just as I thought I would die, Roxy yanked me out by my hair. “You little shit, how many lives do you think you have to disrespect my Boss!” she roared. “Today, I’ll kill you as an apology to her!” I had only a few seconds to gasp for air before she shoved me back under. After several repetitions, I was too choked to make a sound. Roxy threw me onto the ground and scurried back to my sister, bowing. “Boss, since he offended you, he’s useless alive. What are your orders?” “First, pull out all his fingernails. Then, how about we treat him to a special cocktail?” My blood ran cold. The cocktail. I had seen them use that particular torture on other men. I never thought it would be my turn. So be it. Sister, all the sins you’ve committed… let them be paid for through me. It’s not unjust. The thought calmed me. I closed my eyes, waiting for death. I was going to see Mom and Dad soon. A strange sense of joy washed over me. “Is he… smiling?” my sister’s hesitant voice cut through the haze. “What the fuck, this bastard still has the nerve to smile?!” Roxy, incredulous, grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. The filthy water had washed the blood from my face. My sister stared, a look of shock on her features. “Why are there so many wounds on his face?” In the reflection of her eyes, I saw my own ruined face for the first time. A dense network of crisscrossing scars, like ugly earthworms, covered every inch of my skin. It was terrifying. Disgusting. And I had thought she would recognize me. In this state, even I wouldn’t recognize myself.

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