Category: English

Live on New Year’s Eve, my brother called me. I spoke first. “May you have peace and joy, and live a long, full life.” My brother let out a cold, sharp laugh. “But I don’t want you to have joy or a long life, Lisa. I hope you live in misery forever.” I had cut ties with my brother the year he lost everything. Now that he was a titan of industry, his first order of business was revenge. My voice remained steady. “May you have peace and joy, and live a long, full life.” His patience snapped. “Enough. I could never wish you well. If I have to wish you anything, I wish you eternal suffering.” The show’s host hesitated for a moment before gently interrupting him. “Mr. Chase… that was just a recording of your sister’s voice. When she passed… she was, as you said, in a great deal of pain.” 1 “Passed?” Matt Chase froze, then a sneer twisted his lips. “I hope you mean she’s dead.” The host paused, then simply gestured to the massive screen behind Matt. My face appeared on it. In the video, I slapped a hand over the camera lens. Rain plastered my hair and shirt to my skin, a picture of pure misery. My voice was raw with irritation. “Stop filming. I didn’t agree to this.” A moment later, a warm, magnetic voice replied, full of sincerity. “I’m not a con artist, I swear. I’m a filmmaker. I make documentaries about people’s lives. I can help you.” I turned away from the dumpster I’d been rummaging through and pressed my face close to the lens. “Oh yeah? Can you cure my cancer?” The man behind the camera fell silent. I stretched my lips into a hollow smile. “Don’t waste your time. Find someone else.” “Wait… I can try!” He grabbed my arm as I turned to leave. I looked him up and down, from his shirt and belt to his pants and shoes, and let out a short, sharp laugh. “Twenty bucks, sixty, forty, fifty,” I ticked off. “Oh, and the camera. Bought it secondhand, didn’t you? Do you have any idea how much my treatment costs?” I held up five fingers to the lens. “Half a million dollars.” The man’s breath hitched. I smiled and walked back out into the rain, bending over one dumpster after another. “Shadow? Shadow, where are you?” He followed me. “What are you looking for?” “A dog.” “Is he yours?” “No. I collapsed earlier. He licked me awake.” The man said nothing. I looked up at him. “If you’ve got nothing better to do, then leave. There are plenty of people in this world you can help. Don’t waste your time on me.” My hand covered the lens. The screen went black. 2 [AFTERLIFE — 10.11.2023, 9:32 AM — The Chase Family Heiress Needs No One’s Pity] “You’re Lisa Chase. Matt Chase’s sister, right?” I was sweeping the floor in the back kitchen of a café. I frowned at the voice. “You again?” The man’s voice came from behind the camera. “Everyone online says you’re a traitor, that you abandoned him. But they don’t know you have cancer. I want to film a documentary series about you. Can I?” I shook my head. “Let them call me a traitor. I worked hard to build that reputation. Are you trying to ruin it for me?” “Wait!” He quickly grabbed my arm. “But you’re broke. Where will you get the money for treatment? Let me help you. I have some savings.” I turned my head and smiled. “What do you think was the reason I cut ties with my brother in the first place?” He hesitated. I pulled my arm free and waved him away. “I have a job. I don’t need your help. Just go.” “I asked around. You only make two thousand a month here.” “Still don’t need it.” I turned my back to him, then glanced over my shoulder with a defiant smile. “The heiress of the Chase family never needs anyone’s pity.” The moment the words left my lips, my knees buckled and I collapsed. “Lisa!” The camera shook violently. On the floor, a pool of blood was spreading. “You…!” Brain’s voice trembled. The camera was tossed aside, and a tall, lanky man rushed to help me up. “Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital!” Just as he was about to lift me, I pushed him away with all my strength. I grabbed a rag, wiped the floor, then smeared the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “I don’t need it.” Then I walked to the sink and washed the blood from my face. Brain’s voice was shaking. “Please, I’m begging you. Let me help you.” I cleaned the last trace of blood, turned around, and looked at him with fierce intensity. “The heiress of the Chase family never needs anyone’s help.” And with that, I walked out of the frame. 3 [AFTERLIFE — 11.15.2023, 3:21 PM — The Puppy Doesn’t Know He’s Dying, Only That He Finally Has a Home] “What do you mean?” At the vet’s office, I stared in shock. The vet sighed and shook his head. “His original owner probably abandoned him because they knew he wouldn’t make it. The poor thing has been starving, getting bullied by other strays… He’s already…” I managed a small smile. “I know. You’re going to say he doesn’t have much time left, right?” The vet hesitated, then nodded. It was the same look my own oncologist gave me. Brain frowned. “Is there really nothing we can do?” “…Just keep him comfortable. Good food, warm bed.” Silence filled the room. I stroked Shadow’s head. “No wonder the two of us found each other.” Shadow’s tail wagged furiously. He rubbed against me, his tongue lolling out, his bright black eyes fixed on me. Brain gave a bitter smile. “He thinks you’re his owner now.” I paused. “Is that something to be so happy about?” Brain nodded, stroking the dog’s head. “A puppy doesn’t know he’s going to die. He only knows that he finally has a home again.” I was silent for a long moment. I patted the dog’s head. “Alright then. I’ll call you Shadow.” Shadow let out a happy “Woof!” As we left the clinic, I turned to face the camera. “You’re the one who found him and brought him to me. As repayment, I’ll agree to let you film your series.” 4 [AFTERLIFE — 12.31.2023, 9:00 PM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 1] “Where did you get this?” I frowned, looking at the old videotape Brain had brought. He dangled it with a grin. “A good filmmaker has to fully understand his subject.” He popped the tape into a VCR. On the TV left behind by the last tenant, a girl with long hair in a pink dress appeared, bending down to look at the camera. Back then, my eyes still sparkled with hope. “Hello, hello! Happy New Year 2015! I wish everyone peace, joy, and all your dreams come true!” “You were so lively back then,” Brain said, sitting beside me, a smile in his eyes as he watched the video. I clutched a pillow, huddled on the tattered sofa in my tiny apartment, my head poking out from under a blanket. “Did you just dig up every video from all my old social media accounts?” “I found them interesting, so I brought them over.” I said nothing, watching my past self sit among piles of presents, a small tiara clipped in my hair. A familiar voice spoke. “Hold on, I’ll help you open them.” Matt walked into the frame and sat cross-legged beside me. I held up a hand in a “stop” gesture. “No! The Chase heiress is self-sufficient!” The camera cut, and now Matt was fastening a necklace around my neck. “Happy New Year, my little princess.” A camera flashed, capturing my huge, beaming smile. Laughter erupted as I smeared a dab of whipped cream on Matt’s nose. He froze for a second, then a grin spread across his face. “Stop messing around. Your hair is all tangled. Come here, let me brush it for you.” The video was filled with the sound of my happy laughter. Outside the screen, I found myself laughing along, a hollow echo of the past. I wiped the corner of my eye, my sigh trembling slightly. “After our parents died, everyone thought I was so pitiful. But I wasn’t. Not at all. I still had my brother, I still had my friends…” A cold draft swept through the leaky apartment. I wrapped the blanket tighter around myself, tears streaming silently down my face. A warm hand enveloped my own, which was red from the cold. Brain looked at me, his expression serious. “I’ve saved up some money. Let’s go to the hospital tomorrow. We can start your treatment.” I sniffled and laughed. “Your channel has less than a hundred followers, and you’re eating instant noodles with me every day. How much money could you possibly have?” His long, pale fingers clenched on his faded jeans. “It’s… something. It could help.” I shook my head stubbornly. “No. The Chase heiress never needs anyone’s help.” I lifted my chin at him proudly. “Don’t worry. My income is enough to cover my medication. See? I bought all of these with my salary.” I grabbed a handful of colorful pills and tossed them back, swallowing them in one gulp. I winced, remaining silent for a long moment before finally pressing a hand to my chest and letting out a long sigh of relief. When I looked up, Brain was watching me, the corners of his eyes tinged with red. I let out a small laugh. “Pretty impressive, right?” Brain looked down, a bitter smile on his lips. “Yeah.” 5 [AFTERLIFE — 12.31.2023, 11:45 PM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 2] On screen, after a meager meal, the two of us were leaning against the sofa, waiting for the New Year’s countdown. Brain glanced at me. “Is that all you’re going to eat?” I felt a wave of exhaustion. “My stomach hurts. Any more and I’ll just throw it up.” Brain was quiet for a moment before finally speaking. “Mr. Chase… he’s made it. His new project just broke a hundred million in revenue.” I closed my eyes. “I know.” “Go back to him, Lisa. He can get you the best treatment.” I shook my head. “Why not? Do you want to die like this?” “Did you really think I expected to live when I cut ties with him?” That shut him up. After a moment, he spoke again, his voice trembling slightly. “Why did you do it? Why not let him face this with you?” I laughed. “Our parents always taught us that the children of the Chase family never need help from anyone. And yet, our family supported a whole clan of relatives. But when my brother went bankrupt, not a single one of them was willing to help.” My breath hitched. I bit my lip before continuing. “Do you have any idea how it felt to watch my brother grovel in front of them, begging them just to pay for my tuition?” “My brother never begged anyone. After being rejected by every single one of our relatives, he took me to a tiny, one-room apartment, about the size of this one. He told me that he, alone, would bring us back to the life we once had. That’s the brother I admire. The one who, even with nothing, still had his pride and his ambition. “But…” I laughed and looked at Brain. “What do you think would happen if he knew I was sick?” Brain stared at me, speechless. “He would get on his knees and beg those relatives.” My voice trembled as I said it. “He almost did, just for my tuition money. I was lucky I was there to stop him. Ha…” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Before I left, he and his partner were just starting to get back on their feet. Can you imagine what would happen if his partner found out the family suddenly had a bottomless money pit to deal with? Would he still have invested?” Brain’s voice was strained. “Lisa…” I held up a hand to stop him. “Cancer might take my life, but half a million dollars would have taken his.” Brain’s fists clenched at his sides. I sighed, a sad smile on my face. “The day I left, I tore him to shreds. I called him every name in the book. At the end, he was holding my arm, crying, begging me to stay, promising things would get better soon, that he’d give us our old life back. You see him now, so polished and successful. You could never imagine how pathetic he looked then. Ha…” Brain’s voice was low. “How did he finally let you go?” I remembered it all too clearly. “I told him he was a failure. That his past success was just because of our parents. I said his pathetic state was a disgrace to their memory, and if he had any shred of brotherly love left, he would let me go find my own happiness. And then… he let go. Bit by bit.” The bells for the new year began to ring. Fireworks exploded outside the window. I raised a hand and wiped the tears from my face. 6 [AFTERLIFE — 01.01.2024, 12:00 AM — Then I Wish You a Long and Happy Life, Part 3] Brain turned to look out the window. “Happy New Year, Lisa.” “Thanks.” “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy new year?” I looked up at him. “You’re asking a dying woman for a blessing?” His hand gently covered my own thin, frail one. “Please.” I watched the warm, golden fireworks burst outside the window, feeling as if I were bathed in their hopeful light. I smiled. “Then I wish you a long and happy life.” The hand on mine tightened, trembling slightly. Brain stared out the window, his expression hidden from view. The camera moved, and soon, we had both settled down for the night. But in the darkness, a figure slowly emerged. I leaned close to the camera, frowning. “Damn, forgot to turn it off.” I reached out to press the button, then paused. After a moment’s thought, I dragged a chair over and sat down in front of the lens, adjusting it left and right, a look of doubt in my eyes. “Will anyone ever really see this?” More fireworks lit up the sky, casting a warm, yellow glow on my face. I took a deep breath and gave the camera a small, gentle smile. “If anyone is watching… then I wish you all peace and joy, and long, happy lives.” I waved at the camera, and then pressed the button.

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The day the Hawthorne family, Miami’s wealthiest dynasty, came to claim me, I was one of Hollywood’s brightest rising stars. The whole city’s paparazzi were there, live-streaming my homecoming. But Brielle, the Hawthornes’ adopted daughter, stood at the door, blocking my way. “Sister,” she began, her voice dripping with faux concern, “we’ve looked into you. You’re famous for a… certain scandalous art-house film. The Hawthorne family has its standards. You’ll have to change your clothes in front of everyone before you can come in.” She smiled sweetly. “Father said that when he and my brother aren’t home, I’m the lady of the house. I hope you can understand.” In my past life, I would have been cautious, desperate to protect my image, and would have probably swallowed my pride. But this wasn’t my past life. I was reborn. I kicked over a large, ornate planter by the door, sending dirt scattering across the pristine marble. Shoving the stunned Brielle aside, I scoffed. “A joke! You want to strip me? You’re not worthy.” “Every inch of me is insured for more than you’re worth. If you so much as pluck a single hair from my head, you couldn’t afford it.” “‘Lady of the house’? We’ll see how long it takes for you to be on your knees, begging me.” 1 The moment the words left my mouth, a tidal wave of paparazzi surged forward, flashes erupting like a lightning storm, nearly blinding me. “Marissa! The rumors are true! You’re the long-lost Hawthorne heiress!” Brielle reached for my dress, and I slapped her hand away. “Don’t you dare!” “Even if I weren’t a Hawthorne, I’m still a multi-million-dollar celebrity! I’m warning you, touch me again, and you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.” Brielle clutched her face, her eyes burning with fury. “You…!” This was the kind of raw confrontation the paparazzi lived for. They shoved their microphones in Brielle’s face. “Ms. Hawthorne! Marissa is a huge star! Aren’t you happy to have a sister like her?” “And besides, she’s the real Hawthorne by blood. Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” A slow, calculating smile spread across Brielle’s face. “Of course I’m happy to have a sister. But this… this was Father’s wish.” “And I’m about to launch my own career, you know. I understand what’s acceptable and what isn’t. I would never sell my body for a bit of fame. So let’s be clear, no one here is better than anyone else.” She looked at me, a condescending tilt to her head. “Today, as her older sister and the lady of this house, I’m simply teaching her the Hawthorne way.” I let out a sharp laugh. “‘Lady of the house’? We’ll see what the real Hawthornes have to say about that. For now, you’re nothing but a cuckoo in the nest who thinks she’s a swan.” Just then, the family butler stepped forward, whispering to Brielle but speaking loud enough for the closest cameras to hear. He glanced at me with a sneer. “The master said actresses love their drama. He told you not to be afraid. You are the only daughter of his heart. No one will bully you!” 2 The butler’s words sent the paparazzi into a frenzy. “The master? Does that mean Marissa’s return won’t change Brielle’s status at all?” “Looks like it! So what if she’s back in the family? She’s still second-class!” My phone buzzed violently. My agent, Amy, was on the line, her voice a shrill shriek in my ear. “Marissa! My god, are you insane?! Get back here right now! Forget this family reunion!” “The live-stream has gone viral! The internet is exploding! They’re all saying you’re an ungrateful brat! This is the Hawthorne family we’re talking about!” “Do you have any idea how much Hawthorne Capital has invested in our agency?! Are you trying to kill me?!” I listened to her tirade and let out a soft laugh. “It’s fine, Amy. Just sit back and watch the show. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take the heat.” Amy’s voice was thick with tears. “My sweet girl, do you know who Kurt Hawthorne is? He’s the heir! He’s famous for being obsessed with his sister!” “You’ve made an enemy of Brielle. You think he’ll let you get away with this? The second Hawthorne Capital pulls their funding, you’ll be the first one the agency shelves!” Suddenly, there was a commotion on her end of the line. “Oh, hell! I have to go! We just got a message from Hawthorne Capital’s business affairs! Listen to me, Marissa! Come back now!” She hung up. I smiled to myself. She didn’t know that I was a major, silent partner in our agency. I’d used the fortune I’d built to invest, but I’d kept it quiet, not wanting to be accused of getting ahead because of my money. The Hawthorne family was going to ‘shelve’ me? Not likely. Seeing me hang up, Brielle leaned in, her voice a low, taunting whisper. “Looks like my brother has already made his move. I’d listen if I were you.” “So what if you have Hawthorne blood? With an attitude like that, you’ll never set foot in this house again.” Just then, a flame-red Ferrari screeched to a halt in front of the gate. The legendary Hawthorne heir, Kurt Hawthorne, stepped out, his face a mask of cold fury. Brielle’s expression transformed instantly. She ran to him, her voice a delicate, wounded cry as she grabbed his arm. “Kurt… you’re finally back…” Kurt walked straight up to me, his eyes raking over me from head to toe. “You’re Marissa?” The paparazzi held their breath, their faces alight with glee. They stretched their necks. “Mr. Hawthorne! The hottest rising star, Marissa, is your long-lost sister! How do you feel?!” Kurt scoffed. “Marissa may share our blood, that’s true. But Brielle has been in our family for years. She is, and always will be, the only sister in my heart.” “Besides,” he continued, his voice dripping with contempt, “Brielle is a few months older than her. For Marissa to come here on her first day and show her such disrespect… it’s clear she’s had a lack of proper upbringing.” My phone rang. It was my adoptive mother. She must have seen the live-stream and was furious. I ignored the call. Kurt looked at me, pressing his advantage. “I don’t care what kind of star you are. The Hawthorne estate is not a stage for your publicity stunts. If you plan on making a scene here, don’t blame me for being merciless.” The paparazzi buzzed, turning all their cameras on me, waiting for my response. I met the cameras with a smirk. “This is being live-streamed to the entire country. Everyone can see what’s happening. Who was it that tried to strip my clothes off just now? And somehow I’m the one making a scene?” “And didn’t you just pull the funding from my projects? What’s with the self-righteous act now?” “I had no idea the great Hawthorne family was so good at twisting the truth.” My words sent the live-stream chat into an explosion. A tidal wave of supportive comments flooded the screen. I didn’t even need to look to know public opinion was on my side. Brielle’s face tightened, but she quickly shifted back into her innocent-little-damsel routine. “My brother didn’t mean it like that. He just… he can’t stand to see me get hurt.” She paused, then added in a tone of magnanimous charity, “We’re the Hawthornes, Miami’s wealthiest family. We can certainly afford to feed one more person.” Her eyes reddened. “What happened today was just standard Hawthorne protocol. My sister must have misunderstood. After all, she didn’t have much of an education. She’s been working since she was very young, so she has more… real-world experience than I do. It’s only natural she’d think the worst of people.” I laughed coldly and raised my hand as if to strike her. She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut and cowering back. I lowered my hand, my smile dripping with scorn. “Do you know who the first person to seek me out for a DNA test was?” “Let me tell you something. Whether or not the Hawthorne family accepts me isn’t up to a little stray like you.” 3 All I knew was that after I went missing, my birth mother searched for me for years, until, consumed by guilt and despair, she took her own life. And I, after I became famous, was on screens everywhere. My grandmother saw me and recognized me instantly as her long-lost granddaughter. She came to my door time and time again, begging me to take a DNA test, desperate for me to come home. The person who wanted me back was never the high-and-mighty Mr. Hawthorne, and it certainly wasn’t the arrogant Kurt Hawthorne. Brielle’s eyes flew open. “So what if Grandmother recognized you!” she shrieked. “This is the Hawthorne house! What does her word matter here?” She pointed a trembling finger at me. “My brother is the one Father chose! He is the one and only heir to the Hawthorne fortune! If he says you can’t come in, you’ll never set foot past this gate!” I laughed inwardly. She really wasn’t family, was she? She didn’t even know who really called the shots here. I gave her a cold stare, pulled over a chair, and sat down with a cool, unbothered air. A smirk played on my lips. “Fine. Then we’ll wait for the master of the house to return.” Seeing the viewer count on the live-stream skyrocket, I smiled. If I didn’t blow this up today, these two would never learn who was really in charge. I was casually scrolling through the live chat when a furious roar cut through the air. “What is going on?! When did the Hawthorne estate become a public stage?!” I looked up. It was Arthur Hawthorne, his eyes wide with rage. I rose slowly, a mocking smile on my face. “No one’s treating this place like a stage. But some people seem to have forgotten their place and started thinking they’re the masters here.” Arthur’s eyes scanned the forest of cameras, and his face turned a furious shade of purple. “Henderson!” he bellowed at the butler. “Get these reporters out of here!” The paparazzi erupted. “On what grounds? We’re just filming Marissa!” “What a tyrant! The great Arthur Hawthorne won’t even let his own daughter in the door! Is there no decency?!” A vein throbbed in Arthur’s temple. “My daughter? Who knows if she’s just after our money! Don’t think that filming a few sleazy movies makes you a princess!” “We’re gracious enough to acknowledge her, and instead of being grateful, she comes here to ruin the Hawthorne family’s century-old reputation!” I looked at him and felt a profound sense of irony. This man, who had changed his own name just to marry into wealth, had the audacity to lecture me. Seeing my silence, Kurt thought I was scared. He arrogantly ordered the security guards, “Get them all out of here! And for the next few days, if I see a single negative headline about the Hawthorne family, there will be consequences!” The reporters exchanged uneasy glances. Most of them reluctantly lowered their cameras, seemingly forgetting that this was all being broadcast live. Brielle pointed at me, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Looks like there won’t be a family reunion today. When the great star is ready to change her clothes and walk over a pit of fire, we can talk.” Arthur looked at me with disgust. “Don’t think a little shared blood gives you the right to throw your weight around in our house! We don’t welcome women who sell their bodies!” “Now get out, before you dirty our home!” Just then, a powerful, commanding voice boomed from the entrance. “I’d like to see who dares touch a single hair on my granddaughter’s head!”

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My mother asked me which of the Levitans I would marry. This time, I didn’t choose Joe. I chose his uncle, Julian Levitan. A flicker of confusion crossed my mother’s face. After all, the entire elite of New York knew I’d been chasing Joe Levitan since we were children. For ten years, I was his shadow, his loyal puppy, and I’d loudly proclaimed I would marry no one else. A bitter smile touched my lips. I remembered my last life. After I married Joe, a chasm of ice existed between us in the marriage bed. He never touched me. I’d assumed he suffered from some private affliction, a condition too humiliating to admit, and I dedicated myself to protecting his secret. It wasn’t until our fiftieth wedding anniversary that I stumbled into the darkroom he kept locked, a sanctuary no one was ever allowed to enter. The walls were a haunting gallery, covered from floor to ceiling with photographs of my cousin, Kristen. The truth struck me like a physical blow. He wasn’t cold or incapable of passion. He just didn’t love me. So, in this new life, I’ve chosen to grant them their wish. I’ve set them free. But later, as I walked down the aisle in a gown of my own design, toward his uncle, the color drained from Joe’s face. And in that moment, he began to unravel. 1 Three days after the marriage alliance was finalized, I ran into Joe at a party. His friends spotted me first, their faces splitting into smug, mocking grins. “Hey, Joe, look what the cat dragged in. Your little shadow is here to play.” “Eleanor, honey, you’ve already locked down the Levitan name. Don’t you think you’re clinging a little tight? Can’t even let the guy have one night out with his friends?” When Joe saw me, his irritation was a palpable force. “Eleanor, are you that desperate?” he snapped, his voice low and sharp. “Forcing our families’ hands without even talking to me? Now the whole city thinks we’re engaged. You’ve really got some nerve.” His look of pure disgust was a familiar knife in my heart, but after a moment, I found my voice, calm and steady. “Your permission was never required. The man I’m marrying… it isn’t you.” A beat of silence, then the room erupted in laughter. Joe’s friends howled, clutching their sides. “Whoa, Joe, you better smooth things over with your little fiancée! Looks like she’s trying a new tactic to get your attention!” Joe’s brow furrowed. “So now we’re playing hard to get, Eleanor? Is that the new game?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Who else in my family would you possibly marry? You’ve been screaming from the rooftops that you’d only marry me since we were kids. Everyone in this city already sees you as my woman.” He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “I’ll let the engagement announcement slide. But you need to understand something. I can give you a grand wedding, the event of the season… but the marriage license? That is reserved for the woman I truly want to marry.” My eyes shot up to his, wide with shock. In my last life, at this exact moment, Joe had dutifully followed his family’s orders, marrying me without protest. Could it be? Had he been reborn, too? Before I could read the answer in his expression, my cousin, Kristen Croft, arrived. The moment she saw Joe and me standing together, tears welled in her eyes and began to stream down her cheeks. “Ellie… Joe… I heard… I heard you’re getting married soon. I… I don’t have a gift, but I just wanted to wish you… a lifetime of happiness…” Her voice broke, and she turned and fled, sobbing. “Look what you’ve done,” Joe hissed, glaring at me before chasing after her without a second glance back. 2 When they returned, their fingers were intertwined. Kristen’s lips were swollen and bruised from kissing, and a stark, fresh love bite bloomed on the column of Joe’s throat. Every eye in the room swiveled to me, hungry for the drama, waiting for the inevitable explosion. In the past, any girl who got this close to Joe would have been met with a storm of my tears and accusations, a desperate plea for him to turn his attention back to me. Joe protectively pulled Kristen behind him, his own expression a strange mix of defiance and anticipation. But minutes ticked by, and I remained silent. Motionless. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by a cold sneer. “Well, look at you. Finally learning to act your age instead of throwing a tantrum.” When the party wound down, Joe caught my arm as I was leaving. “It’s late. I’ll give you a ride.” A free ride was a free ride. I didn’t refuse. I moved toward the back door of the car, but Joe blocked me, opening the front passenger door instead. “You sit in the back,” he commanded, then gently guided Kristen into the front seat. “Sorry, Ellie,” Kristen said, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Joe’s just worried about me. I get so carsick, you know…” I said nothing, sliding into the back seat where I’d intended to sit all along. The entire drive, Joe and Kristen flirted and laughed in the front, their voices a low murmur. At a red light, Kristen pouted, asking him to apply her lip balm. Their eyes met, the space between them shrinking until their breath mingled, heavy and charged. Suddenly, Joe’s gaze shot to the rearview mirror, as if just remembering I was there. When he saw me staring impassively out the window, a strange, dark expression clouded his face. He stomped on the gas the second the light turned green. When we arrived at my brownstone, he got out and stopped me again, a break from his usual routine. He pressed a small, velvet box into my hand. His tone was one of magnanimous charity. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop with the ‘I don’t care’ act. It’s cheap,” he said. “Consider this an engagement gift.” “As long as you behave,” he continued, “you’ll get your wedding. At least in name. Everyone in New York will know you as my wife.” I looked up at him. “And the woman who gets the marriage license? Who is she? Kristen?” His face contorted with a flash of fury, but beneath it, I saw a dark, triumphant satisfaction. “I knew it. I knew you were pretending. Listen to me, and listen carefully. You will not breathe a word of this to our parents.” “What Kristen and I have… it’s not something you could ever understand! She’s kind and fragile, not like you with all your petty schemes and manipulations. If you dare hurt her, don’t blame me if I call off the wedding entirely.” I almost laughed. His own cowardice, his inability to stand up to his family, was now somehow my fault. I turned and walked away without another word. The moment I stepped inside, my phone buzzed. It was a video from Kristen. In it, Joe was carefully fastening a necklace around her neck. I recognized the designer. It was then I realized the bracelet in my hand was the cheap, complimentary gift that came with the purchase of the necklace. Their bodies were close, and in the next second, they were kissing, a deep, wet sound that echoed unnervingly in the confines of the car. A text followed. [Ellie, honey. I’m sure Joe already told you, right? After his little wedding with you, he’s going to legally marry me.] [You know, a marriage that isn’t recognized by law has no claim to the family fortune. I guess it’s finally my turn to be Mrs. Levitan for real.] 3 Kristen. She was reborn, too. It all made sense now. In our past life, she and Joe had kept their distance publicly. This time, they were inseparable, their affair on flagrant display. They must have found each other, confessed everything, and decided to live out the grand romance they were denied before. I looked down at my hands, remembering. After I married into the Levitan family last time, their corporation, Levitan Industries, suddenly flourished. Contracts and orders poured in, their assets skyrocketed, and soon they were the wealthiest family in the city. The elders all said I was their good luck charm, that I brought prosperity to the family. They adored me for it. And so, despite Joe’s perpetual coldness, I had believed I was happy. Until I saw those photographs… My mother entered my room, her expression soft. “Julian will be back from Europe in five days,” she told me. I was surprised. In my previous life, Joe’s enigmatic uncle had never married. I hadn’t expected our alliance to proceed so smoothly. All I remembered of him was a kind, older presence from my childhood. Marrying him felt safer, more reassuring, than marrying anyone else. The next day, I was at my design studio early, ready to alter my wedding gown. I had been designing it since I started fashion school, dreaming of the day I would wear it. Back then, the man I was designing it for was Joe. Every stitch, every bead, was chosen to please him. He’d forbidden any of the floral embroidery I loved, calling it old-fashioned. This time, I could finally wear the dress I wanted, for a man who wasn’t him. A few days later, after finishing the final alterations, I took a break in the lounge. Scrolling through my phone, I froze. It was Kristen’s latest post. There she was, wearing my dress. Or what was left of it. The bottom half had been hacked off, turning my elegant gown into a vulgar micro-mini. In the photo, she was grinding against Joe on a dance floor. The caption read: [Joe knew I needed something to wear tonight, so he brought me this! It feels so good to be spoiled!] Disbelief propelled me to the fifth-floor ballroom. The scene was just as the picture depicted. Kristen and Joe were lost in a frenzied dance, her hips pressed tight against him. “That’s my wedding dress,” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “How could you give it to her? How could you let her destroy it like this?” Kristen saw me and immediately dissolved into tears, her face a mask of terrified innocence. “Joe… did I do something wrong? Why does Ellie look so angry? Sob…” Joe pulled her behind him. “Eleanor, it’s just a dress!” “You were going to wear it for me anyway, so what’s the big deal if Kristen borrows it for a dance?” he snapped. “Besides, I never liked that style. It’s stuffy. Just make a new one! Stop making a scene over nothing!” His shamelessness was breathtaking. “Who said this was for you to see? This is for my wedding!” Joe just shook his head, a dismissive sneer on his face. “Give it a rest, Eleanor. Your wedding, my wedding, it’s the same thing. I already agreed to marry you. This little drama act is getting old.” My eyes scanned the room and landed on a pair of fabric shears on a nearby table. I snatched them up, strode toward Kristen, and with one vicious snip, sliced through the trailing silk ribbons at her thigh. “Since you’re so confident, Joe, watch closely,” I said, my voice cold and clear. “I don’t keep things that have been sullied. And I certainly don’t keep men who are.” Joe’s face went slack, a flicker of genuine shock in his eyes. He’d never seen this fire in me, this final, cutting edge. My past tantrums had always been childish pleas for attention; this was a declaration of war. He reached for me instinctively, but just then, Kristen let out a theatrical sob. “Joe, my leg… I think it’s bleeding… Oh, but it’s okay, don’t worry about me, you should go after Eleanor… It’s all my fault…” He hesitated for a fraction of a second, his gaze torn between my retreating back and her crocodile tears. Then, his face hardened. “Let her go,” he snarled, his voice laced with a cold fury. “A woman consumed by jealousy like that needs to be taught a lesson. Let her stew in it.” 4 I stared at the silk threads still clinging to my hand. Wiping away a tear I refused to let fall, I mourned the loss of my creation. Still, sacrificing one dress to see a man’s true colors… it was a worthy trade. Tonight was the family dinner where I would formally meet Julian. First impressions were everything. After composing myself and redoing my makeup, I headed down to the garage. As I approached my car, I saw another vehicle parked in the shadows, rocking gently on its suspension. It was Joe’s Maserati. Through the half-open driver’s side window, I could see him, with Kristen straddling his lap, her head thrown back in ecstasy, her body moving in a steady, urgent rhythm. Even knowing he didn’t love me, the sight was a punch to the gut, a visceral, sickening jolt. Joe’s eyes fluttered open and met mine. A flicker of panic, nothing more. Then, as if to spite me, he brushed Kristen’s hair from her face and pulled her into a deep, bruising kiss. He increased his pace, and Kristen’s breathy moans echoed through the concrete space. I lowered my gaze, turned on my heel, and got into my own car, driving away toward the Levitan family estate. On the way, I stopped to pick up the tie I’d bought as a gift for Julian. I arrived at the estate at the exact same time as Joe. As he opened his car door, I caught a glimpse of used condom wrappers scattered on the passenger seat. His eyes landed on the gift bag in my hand, and the flicker of embarrassment on his face vanished, replaced by a familiar, smug certainty. “A present for me? Let me see.” Fearing he’d snatch it, I quickly hid it behind my back. “It’s not for you!” He let out a low, condescending chuckle, as if my defiance was a cute but tiresome game. He lit a cigarette, blowing a plume of smoke into the cool night air. “You saw what was happening in the garage.” “I know you love me, Eleanor. I know you can’t live without me.” “But I was clear before. The wedding is for you, the marriage license is for Kristen. If anything, she’s the one making a sacrifice here.” “She will be my legal wife. What we do… it’s normal. She’ll probably stay over at our house sometimes. You’ll have to get used to it. I’m telling you this for your own good.” Even though I had no intention of marrying him, the sheer, unvarnished audacity of his words shocked me. I turned to leave, but he grabbed my arm again. “My uncle Julian is coming tonight. The entire family relies on him, so this dinner is important. I’m giving you a lot of face by even being here with you. When we go inside, if the elders ask about the marriage license, you tell them we’ve already filed the papers.” “And one more thing,” he added, his grip tightening. “After dinner, you are going to apologize to Kristen for what you did to her this afternoon.” “Don’t forget, until that wedding happens, I can change my mind at any time.” With his ultimatum delivered, he strode into the house and took his seat at the dining table. I took a deep breath. It’s okay. He’ll find out soon enough who I’m really here to marry. I entered the dining room. Julian hadn’t arrived yet, but the rest of the family was seated. I deliberately avoided Joe, choosing a seat that left an empty chair next to me for Julian. Joe saw me, and with a frown, he got up and moved to the seat right beside me. “Stop being so dramatic,” he muttered. “I saved you a seat. There’s no need for all this.” I scowled, about to tell him that the seat was for his uncle, when a tall, commanding figure appeared in the doorway. Dressed in a bespoke suit, Julian Levitan walked in, his presence filling the room with an effortless, quiet power. 5 I hadn’t seen him in years. Julian was even more handsome than I remembered, matured into a man who radiated an unmistakable aura of worldly success and refined confidence. Everyone in the room stood up. In his years abroad, Julian had built an empire of his own, one that now propped up the entire Levitan family enterprise back in New York. All eyes were on him, but his gaze found and held only mine. When he saw Joe standing beside me, a shadow, dark and unreadable, passed through his eyes. I opened my mouth to explain, but at that exact moment, Joe’s phone rang. He excused himself, saying he had to go greet someone. I glanced at Julian, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach. But he was already moving, striding across the room and taking the very seat Joe had just vacated, right next to me. “I hope I haven’t kept you all waiting too long,” he said, his voice a warm baritone. “Please, let’s eat.” He gestured for me to sit, and then, to my astonishment, he began to peel a shrimp for me. “It was Joe,” I started, trying to explain. “He just sat there on his own—” “It’s alright,” he said, his focus entirely on the task at hand. “Let’s eat first.” He filled my plate with all my favorite dishes, an assortment of meats and perfectly cooked vegetables. A small mountain of shrimp shells quickly grew on my side plate. He deftly deboned a piece of fish for me, his care and attention to detail so thorough it was almost overwhelming. My cheeks were puffed with food when the dining room door opened again, and Kristen’s overly cheerful voice rang out. “Hello, everyone! Good evening!” The Levitan family’s expressions soured. Kristen was my uncle’s illegitimate daughter, a permanent black mark on our family’s reputation, and she was generally scorned by the city’s upper crust. If not for my family’s influence, she wouldn’t have even been allowed in the door. Joe’s father, the family patriarch, slammed his glass down. “Joe! What is the meaning of this? Bringing an outsider to a private family dinner!” Kristen’s eyes immediately reddened, and she scurried behind Joe like a frightened mouse. Joe, full of righteous indignation, shielded her. “Kristen is Eleanor’s cousin, which makes her my family too. There’s no reason she can’t be here.” His defiant gaze then fell upon Julian, who was now seated beside me. Joe’s face froze, but he didn’t dare say a word. As he watched Julian place another piece of food on my plate and refill my soup bowl, his expression grew darker and darker. My phone buzzed with a text from him. [What the hell do you think you’re doing? Just because I brought Kristen, you’re going to use my uncle to make me jealous? Is that it?!] I flipped my phone over, ignoring it. Across the table, Joe seethed, his glare so intense it felt like it could burn a hole through me. Just then, Mr. Levitan raised his glass. “As you all know, we have wonderful news to celebrate, something the whole city is talking about.” “This dinner tonight is to make it all official.” “We’ll be discussing the timeline for filing the license and planning the wedding. Everything will be settled tonight…” Before he could finish, Joe jumped in. “Dad, don’t worry. We’ve pretty much handled the license already. We’ll take care of it ourselves, you and Mom don’t need to stress about it.” He looked at me, his eyes wide with meaning. “Right, Eleanor?” I kept my eyes down, refusing to meet his gaze. It wasn’t my wedding he was talking about. There was nothing for me to say. Joe’s face went rigid with anger and disapproval. My phone buzzed again. [SAY SOMETHING! If you keep this up, I swear to God I will cancel the wedding!] [Eleanor, do not test me.] Annoyed, I opened my phone and blocked his number. When he realized what I’d done, his eyes widened in disbelief, the veins on his hands standing out in sharp relief. At that moment, under the table, Julian’s hand gently found mine. His voice, calm and steady, cut through the tension. “For all the arrangements, I will respect Eleanor’s wishes completely. Whatever she decides, we will do.” The warmth of his palm spread through me, and my heart skipped a beat. Hearing this, Joe nodded eagerly. “Yes! Exactly! Uncle Julian is right! Mom, Dad, Eleanor and I have it all figured out. You two just get ready to come to our wedding!” The other family members looked at him, baffled. Finally, his father’s patience snapped. “We are discussing your uncle’s marriage! Why do you keep interrupting!”

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At eighteen, my family’s fortune changed overnight. Father’s business boomed—we moved into a mansion with staff. My brother went to a top U.S. university, marrying into wealth. But I missed finals due to flu. Parents married me off to a rural bachelor. Locked in a cellar, abused daily. When I escaped home, they sneered: “Why didn’t you die in the mountains?” My brother “cheered me up” by shoving me into traffic. ICU-bound with fractures, I heard his whisper: “We didn’t get rich from business. It was your winning lottery ticket.” I died bitter. Then woke up—back to the day I bought that ticket. 1 “Here’s your ticket. Hold on to it tight. You never know, you might just win the grand prize.” Staring at the lottery ticket in my hand, my mind reeled. I was back. I had been reborn, sent back to the very day I bought that ticket. In my past life, I had bought this exact same ticket, only for my brother to burst into my room and snatch it away. I’d never had much luck, so I never really believed I could win and eventually forgot all about it. Soon after, my father’s business suddenly boomed. We moved into a mansion, and my family became one of the city’s newly minted elite. My brother was sent off to study in the States. I had asked to study abroad too, but my mother shot me down. “You’re a girl. You’ll get married one day. What’s the point of studying abroad? It’s just a waste of money.” But I was the top student in my entire grade. After buying that ticket, however, my luck seemed to run out. On the day of my final exams, I came down with a severe case of food poisoning, collapsing in the exam hall. I failed. My parents married me off to a pair of bachelor brothers in a remote village, where I was locked in a cellar and abused daily. When I finally escaped and made it home, covered in scars, my parents only had reproaches for me. “Look at you, dressed like a beggar! You’re a disgrace to this family! Why didn’t you just die in that village?” My sister-in-law, draped in jewels, pinched her nose in disgust. “Is this really your sister?” she whispered to my brother. “She’s worse than a beggar.” Only my brother held me close. “Sis, you’ve suffered so much.” He took me out to “clear my head.” In a spot with no security cameras, he shoved me into the path of a speeding truck. I was rushed to the ICU with broken bones all over my body. As I lay dying, my brother, dressed in a magnificent suit, leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Let me tell you the truth, so you can die in peace. Our family never struck it rich in business. It was all from the lottery ticket you bought that day. It won a hundred million dollars. That’s how we started the company. That’s how I got to go to America. So, really, I should thank you.” He paused, a cold smile playing on his lips. “But as long as you’re alive, there’s a risk you might find out. What if you decided to cause trouble? That’s why Mom and Dad sent you to that village. They even told the locals to be rough with you. We never thought you’d actually escape… But this time, you’re finished. You can die peacefully now. Our whole family will be grateful.” I died, my heart filled with rage. Remembering my past life, I clenched the lottery ticket in my hand and made a silent vow. This time, I would not let them steal my hundred million dollars. “Sis, I knew I’d find you here!” I spun around. My brother, Joel, was standing right in front of me. His eyes lit up when he saw my clenched fist, and he lunged for it. 2 “What’s that in your hand, sis? Is that a lottery ticket? Let me see.” Joel grabbed my wrist, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. When he couldn’t pry my fingers open, he kicked me hard in the shin. A sharp pain shot up my leg, and I instinctively loosened my grip. “Heh, I knew you were hiding a ticket!” he gloated. He looked down at my hand, and his expression faltered. My palm was empty. “Where’s the ticket? Where did you hide it?” Joel demanded, his eyes scanning me frantically. I rubbed my bruised leg, my voice trembling. “What ticket? I was just walking past the store. I didn’t buy anything.” He clearly didn’t believe me. He patted me down from head to toe, and when he found nothing, a look of panic crossed his face. He ignored me and stormed into the lottery shop, grabbing the owner by the collar. “Who just bought a ticket?” The owner, used to dealing with all sorts of strange customers, shoved Joel’s hand away. “I have hundreds of customers a day. How am I supposed to remember all of them?” Joel wanted to buy the winning ticket himself, but his memory was hazy after all this time. He could only remember the first few numbers. He took a deep breath, his eyes darting around. Then he dragged me back in front of him, his gaze menacing. “You buy it.” “And you’d better choose carefully,” he hissed, “or you’ll be sorry.” A chill ran down my spine. I finally understood. He’s been reborn, too. To ensure he got the winning ticket this time, he had followed me here and was now forcing me to buy it for him. I selected a ticket using the first few numbers he gave me. Even with the ticket in his hand, Joel was still suspicious, his eyes constantly darting toward me, certain I had another one hidden somewhere. At dinner that night, Joel tapped his chopsticks restlessly against his bowl. My mother immediately fussed over him. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Did someone at school upset you? Mom will take care of them for you.” My father put down his chopsticks, his expression serious. “That’s right, son. Did one of your classmates look down on you again?” Joel waited for the right moment, then looked up, a sneer on his face as he pointed at me. “She bought a lottery ticket and wouldn’t let me see it.” 3 My parents exchanged a look. My father was the first to speak, his voice sharp. “What’s wrong with you? I’ve told you, as the older sister, you need to let your brother have his way! What did you do to upset him this time? Apologize to him, now!” My mother sighed, her rough hand gently stroking mine. “Ava, sweetie, it’s not that Mom is scolding you, but your brother is the only boy in this family. As his sister, you need to learn to take care of him.” The feel of her hand on mine sent a shiver through me. The horrors of my past life flashed before my eyes. “My sister bought a lottery ticket, but she hid it from me and lied about it,” Joel said, a triumphant look in his eyes. “Mom, what do you think we should do?” My father slammed his chopsticks down. “Hand over the ticket! It’s not like you’re going to win anyway. What’s the harm in letting your brother have it?” Joel chuckled. “I’m just afraid my dear sister will look down on us once she wins the grand prize.” My mother stood up, pushed me into my room, and searched me from top to bottom, even checking the lining of my underwear. “Ava, where did you hide it? Hand it over now!” she screamed, pointing a finger at me. My eyes welled up with tears. “I told you, I didn’t buy another ticket! Why won’t you believe me?” I sobbed. “That was the only one I bought, the one Joel has.” Joel frowned, his eyes full of suspicion. After all, he had arrived in a hurry and hadn’t actually seen me go into the shop. Once the door was closed, I carefully pulled the real lottery ticket out from where I had hidden it in my hair. Thank God I’d had the foresight to do that. But I knew my room was no longer safe. The next time I went to the bathroom, I sealed the ticket in a waterproof bag and hid it in the toilet tank. Joel took a few days off from school, still not giving up. He constantly snooped around my room. I watched him tear the place apart, completely unfazed. My mother also took me out shopping, and while I was in the fitting room, she went through my bag. Of course, they found nothing. The ticket was hidden in a place they would never imagine. Soon, it was the day of the lottery drawing. Just like in my past life, my ticket won the grand prize: one hundred million dollars! Soon, I would be able to claim my prize and finally right the wrongs of my past. When I came home from school, the atmosphere in the house was tense. The moment I walked through the door, my mother slapped me across the face, leaving a stinging red mark. “If the toilet hadn’t clogged, I never would have found this!” she sneered, dangling the winning ticket in front of my face. 4 “See, Mom? I told you she hid another ticket!” my brother gloated. I rushed to the bathroom. The toilet tank was empty. My father kicked me to the ground, his fists clenched. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Hiding it from us! You really think you’re some kind of lucky charm?” He held up the ticket with a sneer. “Today, your little fantasy comes to an end!” He gripped the ticket with both hands, ready to tear it in two. “Dad, no!” Joel screamed, lunging forward and grabbing our father’s leg. “Don’t tear it! That ticket is worth a hundred million!” “A hundred million? Are you joking? Even if someone did win, it wouldn’t be your sister!” “The winning numbers have been announced!” Joel yelled, his voice shaking. “It’s this ticket! We can buy a mansion! I’m sick of living in this dump! And I’ll marry a rich, beautiful woman and give you grandchildren!” My parents stared in disbelief. They glanced at the numbers on the TV screen and their faces lit up with ecstatic joy. “We’re rich! We’re rich!” I scrambled up from the floor, tears streaming down my face, my body trembling with rage. “That’s my ticket! You can’t just take it!” “The money you used to buy it came from me, didn’t it?” my mother shrieked. “What are you crying about? Let me tell you, you’re not getting a single cent of that hundred million!” But she didn’t give me an allowance. I had earned that money by tutoring. Ignoring my cries and struggles, the three of them got ready to go claim their prize, locking me in my bedroom before they left. “Sis, you really are the chosen one. A hundred-million-dollar ticket, just like that,” Joel’s voice mocked me from the other side of the door. “But this time, you get to watch us collect the money! Regret it! Suffer!” I watched them leave, the look of anguish on my face slowly transforming into a smile. The real show was about to begin. I used the opportunity to pack my bags and my documents, then rented a small apartment so I could focus on studying for my exams. On their way to the lottery center, Joel video-called me. His arrogant face filled the screen. “So, sis, you were reborn too, huh? How’s it feel? Too bad you’re still no match for me, even in this life. You still have to watch me get the hundred million.” He lowered his voice. “And don’t even think about calling the police. It won’t do you any good. We’re family. Your money is our money. The police can’t do anything.” “Feeling hopeless? If you’re that desperate, just jump out the window. Maybe you’ll get to the lottery ticket before we do.” They swaggered into the lottery center. My father marched up to the counter and announced, “We’re here to claim our prize! The hundred-million-dollar prize!” “What? A hundred million?” It was a weekend, and the place was crowded. People stopped what they were doing and stared, their whispers turning into a roar. “A hundred million! Is that the grand prize from today’s drawing?” “Someone actually won!” “Oh my God, why couldn’t it have been me?” A crowd quickly formed around my family. “That’s right! We won the hundred million!” Joel declared, holding the ticket high for everyone to see. “You can call the reporters now. You’ll be on the front page of every newspaper tomorrow, and you’ll have us to thank!” “Oh, and one more thing,” my father added, turning to the reporters who had started to arrive. “I want everyone to be a witness!” Surrounded by a sea of flashing cameras, my father announced, “This hundred-million-dollar prize belongs to the three of us, and my daughter, Ava, gets nothing! And from this day forward, we are disowning her. After she graduates, she’s on her own!” Ignoring the murmurs from the crowd, he smiled confidently at the owner. “Let’s claim our prize!” The owner was sweating, his face flushed with excitement. He took the ticket with trembling hands and examined it carefully. Then, he froze. The crowd held its breath, waiting for the miracle to be confirmed. After a long moment, the owner slowly looked up. “What? Is something wrong?” a few people murmured. “Did they not win?” “They won,” the owner said. “They won ten dollars.”

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My five-year-old daughter learned to lie. During her teacher’s home visit, she clung to the woman’s legs, sobbing that I’d broken her fingers to avoid homework. The teacher called the police. I was arrested in cuffs and lost my job. Returning home, I found she’d secretly photographed me with the teacher, sending it to our family group chat: “Teacher visits Mommy daily when Daddy’s gone. When he’s home, Mommy doesn’t hit me.” My furious husband kicked my leg until it snapped. As I wept on the floor, our daughter tilted her head innocently: “Kids don’t lie, right?” He divorced me. In court, my daughter begged him: “Save me from Mommy’s photo shoots with strange uncles!” My phone revealed edited logs of me selling inappropriate photos of her. A mob of “child protectors” crushed me to death. Dying, I couldn’t fathom why my cherished child would destroy me. Then I woke up—back to the day she first accused me. … 1 “Mr. Peterson, I finished all my homework, I swear. But last night, my dog, Buddy, he… he ate it all. I don’t have it to give you right now.” My daughter, Zoe, hugged her teacher’s leg, her face a perfect mask of sincere pleading. Mr. Peterson looked helplessly from her to me, seeking confirmation. “Mrs. Miller, is this… is this true?” I looked at Zoe’s innocent smile, and a deathly chill crawled up my spine. I was back. I had been reborn. In my past life, when Zoe used the same clumsy excuse, I had patiently tried to guide her. “If you didn’t finish your homework, you need to be brave and admit it, honey. Mommy will help you with it. But lying is a very bad thing to do. You should apologize to your teacher.” But before Mr. Peterson could even scold her, Zoe had thrown herself onto the floor, wailing as if her heart was breaking. “Mr. Peterson… I really couldn’t do my homework! Mommy comes home drunk every night and she hits me! She just broke two of my fingers. I can’t even hold a pencil! Please don’t be mad at me!” Mr. Peterson immediately scooped her into his arms. He saw the faint, bluish marks on her fingers and, without another word, called the police. I frantically explained to the officers that she’d hurt her fingers on the slide at the playground the day before. It took pulling the security footage from our apartment complex to finally make them believe me. But the damage was done. Word got back to my company, my reputation was ruined, and I lost my six-figure job. I couldn’t fathom it. My daughter, who was always so well-behaved and sensible, why would she tell such a monstrous lie just to get out of homework? When I dragged my exhausted body home that day, I was met not with the chance to discipline my daughter, but with a kick from my husband, Mark, that shattered my leg. “You filthy cheat! I break my back working to support you two, and you dare bring some pretty boy into my house behind my back?” I was completely bewildered as he pinned me down, hitting me, until I saw the photo Zoe had sent to the family group chat. Only then did I understand. [This is so nice! Mr. Peterson is visiting Mommy again! She’s always in such a good mood when he comes over, so she probably won’t hit me today. I wonder if he’ll sleep over at our house again tonight…] I looked at my daughter in disbelief, desperately trying to explain to my enraged husband that it was all a lie. But Zoe just looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Daddy, I don’t know what ‘lying’ is. I only say what I see.” Mark had completely lost his mind. He landed another heavy punch on my face. “She’s four and a half years old! How could she possibly know how to lie? You’re not fit to be a mother! You’d throw your own daughter under the bus just to cover up your affair!” I was beaten until I was legally disabled, and he filed for divorce. In court, terrified that Zoe’s habit of lying would only get worse, I fought with everything I had to keep her with me, to guide her. But she knelt on the floor, crying, begging Mark to take her. “I don’t want to wear those weird clothes for those gross uncles anymore! I want to go with Daddy so I can study and be a good girl. I don’t want Mommy to hit me anymore. Please, please save me!” I froze, stunned. Before I could even process what she’d said, my mother-in-law rushed forward, snatched my phone, and handed it to the judge. The screen was filled with lurid photos of Zoe in white stockings and dark frilly dresses, posed in ways that made my stomach clench. Alongside them were countless transactions from anonymous accounts, all with suggestive notes attached. “Claire! Zoe is your own daughter! How could you be so depraved, using her to make money? She’s not even five years old… and you’ve ruined her!” I never got a second hearing. I was ambushed by a group of enraged parents and “child safety” fanatics outside the hospital. They pinned me down and choked the life out of me. My last sight was of Zoe, nestled in her father’s arms, a sly, triumphant smirk flashing across her face. Even in death, I couldn’t understand why the sweet, obedient child who used to love helping me with chores would tell lie after lie to see me destroyed. Now, reborn, I wondered: if I make a different choice, can I prevent it all from happening again? 2 I forced a smile, meeting Mr. Peterson’s questioning gaze. “I’m not sure about the dog eating her homework, but Zoe hasn’t been feeling well these past few days. Could we perhaps put the homework on hold for a bit?” Mr. Peterson nodded, not pressing the issue further. I looked at Zoe and saw her smiling sweetly back at me, with none of the sinister energy I remembered from my past life. A wave of relief washed over me. Maybe she was just being a mischievous kid. Maybe I had pushed her too hard with school in my past life, and that’s what made her act out. She was just a child, after all. If I communicated with her properly, a small problem like lying could surely be fixed. I stood up to walk Mr. Peterson to the door with Zoe. But the moment I opened it, my world froze. Mark was standing there. He threw a punch that connected squarely with Mr. Peterson’s face, sending the teacher stumbling back into the apartment. “You dare carry on your affair in my house! I’ll kill you, you bastard! If my daughter hadn’t told me the truth, I would’ve been wearing these horns for the rest of my life!” I stood, paralyzed, feeling as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head. I had given Zoe what she wanted. Why did she still lie? A notification popped up from the family group chat. It was the same message as last time, only this time, Zoe’s tone was even more pitiful. [Mommy wants me to call Mr. Peterson ‘Daddy.’ I don’t want to, but what if she hits me if I don’t?] Seeing Mark, Zoe ran to him and burst into tears. “Daddy, you’re finally back! Mommy and Mr. Peterson were hitting me together! I thought I’d never see you again!” Mr. Peterson, dizzy and stunned from the unexpected blow, stared at Zoe in disbelief. “Zoe, I’m just here for a home visit to check on your homework. Why would you lie like that?” Zoe’s sobs grew louder. “But… but why do you only ever come to our house for visits? I’m so scared…” Mark’s face was purple with rage. “My daughter is four and a half! She doesn’t know how to lie! You two adulterous scumbags, you have the nerve to blame your filth on her? I’ll teach you both a lesson you’ll never forget!” As Mark raised his fist again, I threw myself between them. “If you want to know if Mr. Peterson comes here often, just check the security camera footage from the lobby! You’ll see if Zoe is telling the truth!” I turned to Zoe, my brow furrowed, and deliberately softened my voice. “Zoe, sweetie… if you admit right now that you were lying, Mommy will forgive you. If you just apologize to us, we can pretend this never happened. Okay?” Perhaps my confidence gave him pause, because Mark looked down at our daughter, his fury wavering. “Zoe, just tell us the truth. If your mom really hit you, Daddy will make it right.” Mr. Peterson, though flustered, managed to speak calmly. “Zoe, perhaps you’re mistaken about the time? I only do a home visit once a week, at most.” Zoe chewed her lip, crying for a long moment before she slowly looked up at Mark. “Daddy, don’t check the cameras. You won’t find anything.” I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, a flicker of hope warming my chest. Maybe she was just being naughty, not completely lost. With proper guidance, she could still get back on the right track. But in the next second, Zoe shook her head helplessly. “Mr. Peterson always stays for a really, really long time. The security cameras don’t record for that long. He stays for hours and hours. I’m not lying.” A bomb went off in my head. Mark’s face, which had begun to soften, instantly turned to stone. “So that’s your game! Trying to threaten your own daughter into lying for you! How can you call yourself a mother? God knows what you’ve put Zoe through!” He stormed into the storage closet and came back with a golf club. He was going to teach me and Mr. Peterson a lesson. Zoe flinched beside me, her voice a tiny, terrified whisper. “Mommy hits me on the head with that all the time. It hurts so much… she almost killed me once…” I stared at the club, speechless. It was covered in a thick layer of dust, clearly untouched for a very long time. But Mark was beyond reason. He swung the club at us. Just as it was about to connect with my skull, I reacted, grabbing a chair to block the blow and screaming with all my might. “Stop! I have a witness who can prove Zoe is lying!” 3 Mark’s hand, gripping the club, trembled violently, but he didn’t swing again. “I work a nine-to-five job every single day, and your mother, who lives downstairs, sees me come and go! If you don’t believe me, you can’t possibly disbelieve your own mom, can you? Just ask her if I’ve ever laid a hand on Zoe!” Mark’s face was a grim mask, but he gave a curt nod. He would go ask. Zoe, who had been sitting quietly on the sofa, glanced nervously at her little wristwatch and then looked back at Mark. “Daddy… it’s… it’s getting late. Zoe needs to sleep. Can we not go?” A child’s guilt is a transparent thing. This time, even Mark could see something was wrong. Without another word, I picked Zoe up and marched downstairs to my mother-in-law’s apartment. Thankfully, we had bought her a place on the ground floor of our building years ago to better care for her. Otherwise, I’d have no one to vouch for me. Tonight, I was going to break this destructive habit of lying, once and for all. I couldn’t let it fester like last time. I knocked firmly on her door. “Mom, Mark thinks I’m seeing other men. He also says I beat Zoe all the time. Can you please set the record straight for us?” My mother-in-law had always been good to me over the years, helping with laundry, cooking, and watching Zoe. I loved her like my own mother. I didn’t need her to embellish anything, just to tell the simple truth: that Zoe was lying today. She wrapped her arms around Zoe, her eyes darting nervously between us. “Well… Claire does go to work on time every day. And I… I certainly don’t see her bringing men home.” I silently breathed a sigh of relief. As I prepared to confront Mark, my mother-in-law’s expression suddenly changed, and she began to sob quietly. “Oh, what a tragedy for this family… My poor Zoe, to have a mother like you. My son… oh, my son… can your mother speak honestly?” I froze, completely baffled by her sudden performance. She wiped her eyes, tears and snot streaming down her face. “Every time you beat her, Zoe comes crying to me! It breaks my heart to see my granddaughter suffer so much. I was just so afraid you two would get a divorce that I never dared to say anything. It’s my fault… it’s all my fault for letting Zoe get hurt.” I stood there, rigid, a cold blade twisting in my heart. “Mom… what are you talking about? Why would you slander me in front of Mark?” My mother-in-law seemed even more furious than me. She snatched my phone from my hand, her voice shaking with rage. “Then you explain this! Where did these pictures on your phone come from?” She held up my phone. The screen was filled with images of Zoe in revealing clothes, tears glistening in her eyes as she forced a smile for the camera. It felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I stared at the phone, my head roaring. In my past life, those strange photos and contacts had mysteriously appeared on my phone, leading to my wrongful death. The moment I was reborn, the very first thing I did was delete every single one of those photos and any suspicious apps. I left no trace. There was absolutely no way those photos should be on my phone again. But I couldn’t understand how. I had just deleted them. No one else had touched my phone since. I reached for the phone, needing to see for myself, but Mark kicked me to the ground before I could touch it. “You make me sick! Zoe is just a little girl! You’re her mother! Making her take pictures like that for money… are you even human?” His voice was low and menacing. “Today, even if I go to prison for it, I’m going to get rid of a monster like you. I’d be failing Zoe as a father if I didn’t.” I clutched my stomach, the pain sharp and deep. “Zoe… why are you lying? Who took these pictures of you?” Mark kicked me again, and I tasted blood. My mother-in-law fanned the flames. “I only tolerated you this long because I wanted Zoe to have a happy family. But you beat her half to death, you torture her into taking those disgusting pictures! Do you really think she could just make something like that up?” Zoe stood in the corner, a bizarre, knowing smirk playing on her lips. She didn’t look like a kindergartener at all. “Daddy,” she said, her voice soft and sweet, “if Mommy dies… will that mean no one can bully me anymore? And I won’t have to take weird pictures, and I can just focus on school? Is that right?” Her voice was as soft as cotton, but it sent a freezing dread through my entire body. Mark, pushed beyond his limits, let his gaze fall on a heavy, metal stool nearby. His eyes went blank and cruel. I scrambled backward, knowing there was nowhere to run. With a final, desperate surge of strength, I lunged for my phone. I just needed to understand before I died. The moment my fingers closed around it, I saw it. And I was struck absolutely speechless. The reason for all of Zoe’s strange behavior and lies finally became clear in that instant. So that was it. The truth had been right in front of me all along.

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Four months pregnant. My husband, an OB/GYN, took me to get my prenatal results. His smile froze when he saw the report. He grabbed my arm, steel grip dragging me toward the abortion clinic. I stood stunned—my doctor had just said the baby was healthy. I pulled free. “Why?” He ignored me, already scheduling the procedure. When I tried to run, he hissed, “This baby cannot be born.” I called my parents—both OB/GYNs. My doting father raised a fist at my belly. My mother trembled. “No… not like this.” Then, coldly: “Lock her in with men.” I didn’t understand. They dragged me to a dark room. Blood pooled between my legs—my baby was gone. Later, my mother smiled brightly. I screamed, demanding answers. She had me committed. I was tortured to death. When I opened my eyes—I was back on test day. … My husband, Leo, beamed at me. “Our first child, sweetheart. I can’t wait for the day he’s born.” “Come on, honey, let’s go before the hospital gets too crowded.” His voice jolted me back to the present. I touched my slightly rounded belly and knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that I had been reborn. And I had been reborn on the exact day I was to receive my prenatal report. In my previous life, Leo had been the perfect, attentive husband from the moment I told him I was pregnant. He bought something new for the baby every single day and had already compiled a list of over a hundred names. Even though I was getting my check-ups at the very hospital where he worked, he would take the day off just to be with me. His excitement for this child was palpable. At four months, we went for our routine scan. The doctor told us the baby was healthy, that the risk for Down syndrome was nonexistent. Leo, being an OB/GYN himself, glanced at the report. His smile vanished. His face contorted in a rictus of horror. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the abortion scheduling desk. I dug in my heels, yanking my hand away. “Leo, the doctor said the baby is fine! Why do you want to terminate?” He ignored me, his fingers flying across his phone screen, booking the procedure. I tried to snatch the phone from him. His breathing grew ragged, his eyes bloodshot. He roared at me, his voice a raw, guttural thing. “Iris, this baby cannot be born!” His violence terrified me. My heart hammered against my ribs, my legs turning to jelly. While he was busy with the paperwork, I sent a frantic message to my parents. They arrived quickly. But when Leo saw them, he didn’t look worried. A small, strange smile played on his lips. I shrank into my mother’s arms. My father strode up to Leo and punched him square in the face. “The baby is healthy! Why are you forcing an abortion?” Leo didn’t say a word. He just handed the report to my father. The anger on my father’s face melted into pure terror. His eyes widened, his hands trembling as he held the single sheet of paper. Then, he raised his fist and lunged for my stomach. My mother threw herself in front of me. The blow landed on her back. “Are you insane?!” she shrieked. “That’s your grandson in there!” My father let out a cold, humorless laugh and shoved the report at my mother. My mother, who had just been protecting me, looked as if she had seen a ghost. Her face went deathly pale. She pushed me away from her, shaking her head violently. “No… no, this can’t be.” I knew then that something was terribly wrong with the report. “Mom, what is it? What’s wrong with my baby?” She didn’t answer, lost in her own storm of emotion. “This won’t work!” she said, grabbing my father’s arm. “It’s too public here. I have an idea.” “Find some men. Put them with Iris.” I stood frozen, a cold numbness spreading through me. I couldn’t understand how a single piece of paper could change them all so completely. What was on it? Why wouldn’t anyone tell me? My parents started to lead me away. I turned and ran, but my father’s grip was like a vise. I sobbed, begging them to let me go, begging them to just tell me the truth. They forced me into a car, stuffing a gag in my mouth. They locked me in a small, dark room with five naked men. I was paralyzed with fear, pounding on the door, screaming for them to let me out. But there was no answer. The men dragged me to the floor. Any resistance was met with blows. The baby became a pool of blood that dried on the filthy floor. A week later, my parents and Leo came for me. My mother smiled. “Iris, we’re going home.” I laughed, a broken, hollow sound. How could she pretend nothing had happened? I screamed at them, my voice raw. “Why? Why did you do this to me?!” My mother’s face hardened. My father slapped me. “You ungrateful bitch!” I was stunned into silence. My mother’s eyes were cold and sharp. “Iris has lost her mind. We should take her to a psychiatric hospital.” From the day I was committed, Leo sent people to torture me every day. The man who had once loved me so deeply now wanted nothing more than to see me dead. Three months later, I died. And I still didn’t know why that single piece of paper had made them all want to kill me. The terror of my past life washed over me. I placed a hand on my still-warm belly. I took a deep breath. This time, I would find out what happened. … At the hospital, I made sure I was the first to get the report. Even after the doctor confirmed the baby was healthy, I took it from her hands immediately. If Leo doesn’t see it, I thought, nothing will happen. But as soon as we left the doctor’s office, he asked for it, just like before. My heart pounded, but I forced a smile. “What do you want my report for?” He smiled back. “I’m the baby’s father, and I’m an OB/GYN. It’s perfectly normal for me to want to see it.” “Your own professor just said the baby and I are fine. You don’t trust her?” “It’s not that. I just want to be informed so I can take better care of you.” I deliberately tucked the report into my purse. “Well, today you’re not seeing it.” He thought I was being playful and went along with it. “Fine, fine. As long as you’re healthy, that’s all that matters.” I smiled and linked my arm through his. “I’m just going to the restroom. We’ll go home right after.” I grabbed my purse and headed for the restroom. I had glanced at the report, but so quickly that I hadn’t noticed anything unusual. I was going to study it in the stall, to find out what was so terrible that it could turn them all into monsters. But the moment I opened my purse in the restroom, my heart stopped. The report was gone. I rushed out and saw Leo down the hall, his face pale. The report that should have been in my bag was in his hand. He saw me and started walking towards me. I tried to run, but he grabbed my arm. His eyes were bloodshot, his gaze fixed on me. “Iris, this baby cannot be born. We’re going to the clinic. Now.” In my past life, I had never understood why my gentle, loving husband had transformed into a monster after seeing that report. The malice in his eyes was something I had never seen before. My body trembled, but this time, I was prepared. I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Help! Someone is trying to kill my baby!” The hospital corridor was crowded. My cry brought everything to a standstill. People turned to stare. Leo was taken aback. Then, I did something he never expected. I fell to my knees in front of him. “Husband, the doctor said the baby is healthy! Why are you making me have an abortion?” Leo gritted his teeth. “You bitch, shut your mouth!” he hissed. He tried to drag me away, but a few bystanders had already stepped forward. A man pulled him off me. “What do you think you’re doing?!” “Oh my god, the baby is healthy and he wants to abort it? Does he not want to be a father?” “He didn’t think about that when he was having his fun, did he?” “Forcing a pregnant woman to have an abortion is illegal! Someone call the police!” Leo’s breathing was heavy, his jaw clenched, his eyes murderous. But surrounded by the crowd, he was powerless. I never thought he would do it, but he suddenly smiled at me, a cold, chilling smile, and dialed my parents. When they arrived, they saw us surrounded by a crowd. They knew something had happened. My mother rushed to my side, her touch making me flinch. The kind strangers explained what had happened. My father raised his hand to slap Leo, but before the blow could land, Leo held up the report. “Dad, don’t look!” I tried to snatch it away. But my father was faster. He took one look at the paper. His eyes flickered. “Dad?” I whispered. When he looked at me again, his eyes were bloodshot. He slapped me across the face without a second’s hesitation. “You animal! Leo is doing this for your own good!” I was devastated, but I forced myself to argue. “But the doctor said my baby is healthy!” “I’m an OB/GYN too! You dare to talk back to me?” He was about to punch my stomach when my mother threw herself in front of me, shielding me with her body. “Are you insane?! Your daughter is pregnant!” she roared at him. But my father just laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. “You feel sorry for her? This bitch doesn’t deserve to be our daughter!” “She doesn’t deserve to be our child!” A wave of shock went through the crowd. People began to murmur, to point at my father. How could a father say such a thing to his own daughter? My mother was furious, but she knew my father, usually so gentle, must have a reason. She looked at the report in his hand. “Let me see that!” I tried to stop her, my eyes pleading. “Mom, the doctor said the baby is healthy. Please don’t look.” “Mom, if you don’t believe me, you can go ask the doctor.” I knew that if she saw the report, she would disown me too. She held me close, her voice soothing. “Don’t worry, honey. Your father and Leo are probably just mistaken. They’re not as experienced as me. I was the head of the department, remember? Trust me.” I shook my head frantically. “No, Mom, please don’t look. I trust you, but please, I’m begging you, don’t look.” But the more I tried to stop her, the more curious she became. Seeing that she was determined, I fell to my knees again. “Mom, if you look at this report, you’ll stop loving me, just like they did.” “Of course not, Iris. I’ve seen every kind of report in my career. And even if the baby isn’t Leo’s, I will always be on your side. You’re the person I love most in this world.” Her gentle gaze was so convincing. In the end, I couldn’t stop her. The moment she saw the report, the warmth in her eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, sharp glint that made me tremble. Her face turned white, and she looked at me with a bitter, twisted smile. She wasn’t as emotional as my father or Leo, and that, somehow, was even more terrifying. “It’s alright, Iris,” she said, her voice like ice. “The baby is fine. Get up. Let’s go home.” She said it was fine, but the hand she extended to me was shaking uncontrollably. She was suppressing a storm. “No, I’m not going home.” I scrambled to my feet and backed away into the crowd. Her brow furrowed, her expression turning venomous. “Iris, what are you doing? You’re pregnant. What if something happens to you out here?” They were closing in on me. I grabbed the clothes of two strangers, falling to my knees again. “Please, help me! I can’t go back with them! They’ll kill my baby!” The strangers hesitated. I was a pregnant woman, but I was also clearly emotionally unstable. And the people trying to take me were my family. But thankfully, someone spoke up. “She’s pregnant and clearly distressed. You shouldn’t force her.” “Yes, what if you hurt the baby?” But my parents and Leo seemed deaf to their pleas, their faces contorted with rage as they advanced on me. “Iris, are you having a paranoid delusion?” “Come home with us! Stop causing a scene!” My parents tried to grab me, but a kind stranger stood in front of me. “We’re in a hospital. A pregnant woman in her state should be seen by a doctor. It could affect the fetus.” “We are doctors!” my father roared. “She doesn’t need to see anyone else!” The kind stranger hesitated. In that moment of uncertainty, Leo pulled me out of the crowd, dragging me across the floor without a shred of compassion. The onlookers, no matter how kind, were not going to physically fight my family for me. But then, a hand stopped Leo. “Who told you you could drag a pregnant woman like that?” A police officer’s sharp voice made Leo release me. My parents rushed to explain. “Officer, this is our daughter. She’s… not well. We’re taking her home.” The officer looked at me with suspicion. I quickly denied it. “No! They want to kill my healthy baby!” The three of them froze, but their faces held a strange, triumphant smile. “If you don’t believe me,” I continued, “you can check the hospital’s security cameras. They all want to kill my baby.” The police had the hospital staff pull up the footage. After watching it, a female officer stood in front of me, shielding me. She turned to my family. “Why do you want to abort this healthy child?” My parents sneered. Leo just looked at me with cold indifference. “Forcing a pregnant woman to have an abortion is a crime!” the officer said sternly. Leo remained unfazed. I grabbed the officer’s hand. “Let me see my prenatal report.” They had all changed after seeing it. The truth had to be on that piece of paper. At the officer’s request, Leo reluctantly handed it over. When I finally saw the report again, I understood. I finally understood why this child had to die.

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1 “How long has it been since we were last together?” I asked James casually over dinner. “What, you want a baby now?” He glanced up, his eyes flicking over my face before returning to the cod on his plate. “Weren’t you the one who said you didn’t want one?” “So the only reason for me to be with you is to have a child?” I was three years older than James. The year his family fell from grace, his mother gravely ill, when he was on the verge of selling himself to raise money, I was the one who stepped in. He broke up with his girlfriend and married me, becoming a live-in son-in-law to the prestigious Reed family. But in five years of marriage, the number of nights we’d actually shared a bed could be counted on one hand. It wasn’t until recently, when I learned that his ex-girlfriend had become his new secretary, that the pieces finally clicked into place. Some things, I realized, simply couldn’t be forced. I sat up straighter. “Can we tonight?” James finally looked at me properly. “What is wrong with you?” I glanced at his phone on the table, a constant stream of notifications lighting up the screen. I smiled and looked down at my plate. “Maybe… we should get a divorce.” A flicker of something—shock, perhaps—crossed James’s face. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a half-mocking smile. “Because I won’t sleep with you, you want a divorce?” “What new game are you playing now, Miss Reed?” I wiped my mouth and poured us both a glass of red wine. The dark liquid swirled in the glass, its intoxicating aroma the perfect catalyst for primal desires. “The last time was… New Year’s Eve last year, wasn’t it?” I took a small sip, my voice a low murmur. “It was snowing that night, too. We had a little wine.” “I bought a new nightgown. You even said I looked…” “Avery,” James cut me off. “Are you finished? I’ll clear the table.” Before I could answer, he was on his feet, gathering my dishes. He was always so considerate. Ever since he married me, even after he became a successful CEO, he would still cook for me whenever he had the time. Mundane chores like washing dishes and cleaning were his domain when he was home. He never used a dishwasher, preferring to do it all by hand. I gestured to his phone with my chin. “Busy?” He shook his head. “Just the work group chat.” And just like that, he’d brushed aside my mention of divorce as if I’d merely asked if he liked the dinner. Normally, I would have let his coldness slide. But not tonight. “I heard you hired a new secretary,” I said, taking another sip of wine. He didn’t stop his cleaning. “Did Walter tell you?” Walter was the driver my family had assigned to him. I didn’t answer, just pressed on. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” “About what? You already know everything.” His tone was tinged with a faint, biting sarcasm. “I hadn’t seen Laura’s resume before it landed on my desk. My assistant, Ryan, handled the final interview. I trust his professional judgment. And I’m not going to ruin someone’s career just because she’s an ‘ex-girlfriend,’ am I?” He always had a reason, a perfectly logical, high-minded explanation. I could never win an argument against him. For all these years, except for those rare, unguarded moments in bed, James was always restrained, always polite. Sometimes I wondered why he’d agreed to marry me in the first place. Was it just out of gratitude? I was too afraid to ask, terrified of the answer that would surely break my heart. I watched him now, his back slightly bent over the sink, so close and yet so far away. He was the person I was supposed to be most intimate with in the world, yet I felt as if I’d never truly possessed him. I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “So, why not tonight?” “They say when a man doesn’t eat at home, it’s because he’s already full from eating out.” I was desperate to stir something, anything, in this stagnant pool of a marriage. “Or are you saying you think I’m too old?” James’s brow furrowed. He pried my hands from his waist. “Don’t mess around. I have a video conference later.” Rejected again. “What if I said, if you don’t sleep with me, we get a divorce?” I persisted, determined to drop a boulder into this placid lake. I pulled his shirt from his trousers, my hand about to venture lower when he grabbed it. He spun me around, trapping me against the counter. He looked down at me. “Avery, don’t push me.” His voice was so calm it sent a shiver down my spine. “I know my place. You don’t have to keep testing me. But don’t push me. Some things… they just won’t work.” The one thing I was too scared to ask, he had to say it out loud. It just won’t work. I’d said something similar to my father once, when he’d tried to set me up with some family friend. What was it I’d said? “There’s no spark. You can’t force a spark.” See? Who said we weren’t a good match? We even thought the same way. I smiled up at him, my vision blurring. “Okay. I understand.” Before the tears could fall, I pushed him away and went to the bedroom. My phone still held the photo I’d received hours earlier. It was old and faded, but I recognized the young James instantly, and the sweet-faced girl nestled beside him, Laura. He was smiling so beautifully. A pity he never smiled at me like that. “What do you think your chances are now?” the message had read. I took a deep breath and typed back furiously. “I’ve already won. I’m his wife!” I was his wife. But… so what? He didn’t love me. My best friend, a lawyer, quickly drafted a divorce agreement for me. When she handed it to me, her face was a picture of disbelief. “Are you serious? James?” “You practically went to war with your father for him. You’ve had a few good years, and now you’re telling me you want a divorce?” She waggled a finger in my face. “Did he cheat on you?” “Don’t tell me you have some terminal illness.” “Hey!” I cut her off. “Don’t jinx me.” “Then what is it? You have to tell me! You have no idea how hard it’s been holding this in since you called!” I took the agreement and scanned it quickly. “Yep, this is perfect. You’re the best.” She suddenly shrieked. “Tell me! Why are you doing this? Wait, no, are you kidding me? You think this agreement is ‘perfect’?!” She looked like she was about to jump on the table. “Avery Reed, get a grip!” “What about the division of assets? I was waiting for you to ask me about that! Do you have any idea what his company is worth now? And you’re just asking for the money you lent him back, plus a little interest?” “Are you running a charity, Miss Reed? What about all the connections and resources your family gave him? If your father finds out about this, he’ll break your legs!” I knew. Never make a losing deal. It was our family’s motto. But a deal requires both parties to be willing. “I don’t need the money. I didn’t help him for financial gain.” “Bullshit! If you weren’t after something, why did you propose marriage? And at his lowest point! We all said it back then, you Reed women are born business sharks.” I gave a wry smile. I couldn’t blame them for thinking that. When James’s family ran into trouble, he and Laura were about to graduate and go abroad together. His father was accused of corruption after retirement, and his mother was in a car accident, the medical bills a bottomless pit. It was as if all the bad luck in the world had conspired to drag the golden boy down into the mud. And that was when Laura had abandoned him and left the country alone. I had seen the way he loved her, with a fierce, all-consuming passion. When he looked at her, there was a fire in his eyes that left no room for anyone else. So yes, I was despicable. I had extended a hand to him at his most vulnerable moment. “So, will you marry me?” Thinking back, it wasn’t just taking advantage of his situation; it was preying on it. “You’re right. I made a great deal.” “And now… my conscience is catching up with me. I’m setting him free.” My friend looked at me skeptically. “Does your family know?” My father and my brother… they probably wouldn’t object. A few years ago, they were the ones trying to set me up with other men. “Young Mr. Carter is younger than James, why don’t you meet him?” or “The eldest son of the Lees just opened a new branch, and he’s still single.” But in recent years, they’d gone quiet. Maybe because I was getting older, or maybe because James’s company was getting bigger and bigger. They’d stopped trying to persuade me to divorce him. Everything seemed to be getting better. But me… I couldn’t go on. “Wouldn’t they be happy?” I shook my head and signed my name. “Divorce?!” I hadn’t expected to be met with such a storm of fury when I got home. My father sat in his study, silent and grim-faced. My older brother had smashed a glass. “I knew it!” he raged. “I knew that James was a calculating snake! Now that he’s made it, he’s just going to toss you aside! What a classic case of biting the hand that feeds him! Fine! Just fine!” I was confused, but I frowned. “Brother, don’t say that. It was me who…” “You’re still defending him!” My brother wouldn’t listen. “Do you have any idea what he’s been doing?” “He’s been systematically devouring our family’s business empire!” “I knew something was off this past year! It was that bastard, sabotaging me behind my back! I really underestimated him!” “And now he wants a divorce? You call that anything but betrayal?” “Fine! Divorce him! But make him give you his company in exchange!” As my brother ranted, I finally understood. I looked at my father, who had been silent until now. He finally looked up at me. “We always thought of him as family. We let him have some business deals. But this time… the Westside project we’ve been preparing for over six months… he went straight to our competitor and snatched the bid right out from under us. The losses are significant.” “Avery,” my father sighed, “you’ve been sleeping with a wolf.” “It’s better to cut ties now,” he added, his voice weary. “You’re still young. You can find someone else. It’s just that now… Dad can’t help you much.” So this was it. This was my punishment. My punishment for taking advantage of a man at his lowest point. I don’t remember how I left the house. I just remember my sister-in-law holding my hand, telling me not to worry, that the family’s foundation was still strong, but that James had been acting unscrupulously for years. When I came to my senses, I was standing outside his office building. My friend had said she couldn’t reach him, so I’d decided to come in person. But what I was going to say, I hadn’t figured out yet. I had just come to deliver a divorce agreement. But now… should I confront him? Ask him what he’d thought of me all these years? A ladder to the top? Or a target for revenge, unworthy of sympathy? “Mr. Croft is in a meeting.” I wasn’t surprised to run into Laura first. She looked more mature than I remembered, tall and slender in a well-tailored business suit. When her gentle eyes swept over the folder in my hand, a barely perceptible smile touched her lips. “If it’s urgent, I can pass the documents on to him for you.” None of the cocky swagger from her earlier texts remained. “No, thank you. I’ll wait for him.” “The meeting might take a while,” Laura explained patiently. “Mr. Croft has been extremely busy lately, juggling several major projects at once. He barely has time to eat.” “Or, when he’s finished, I can have him call you back?” Very professional, very composed. James was right. She was a good secretary. And they… they did look good together. “Take me to his office. I’ll wait there.” I was still, nominally, the boss’s wife. She had no reason to stop me. The smile on Laura’s face faded slightly. She gave a small bow and led me to his office. I’d been to James’s office a few times. It was always neat and tidy, a reflection of his minimalist style. But this time, there were a few new potted plants, and a high-end eye massager on his desk. “Mr. Croft gets eye strain easily, so I got these for him,” Laura explained with a smile, expertly brewing me a cup of tea. I nodded. Of course. It made sense. But why did my heart still ache with such a bitter pang? I could imagine that if I confronted James, as I had in the past, he would just say he hadn’t noticed. Besides, I no longer had the right to question him. But in that moment, an impulse took over. Just as Laura was about to leave, I stopped her. “Why did you leave back then?” “And why did you come back?” The faint scent of tea hung in the air, mingling with the perfume on Laura’s skin and the office’s own fragrance, becoming indistinguishable. Silence stretched between us. “If it hadn’t been for my circumstances, James and I would have been married long ago. We were planning to get engaged the year we graduated.” Laura’s voice had lost its professional veneer. “If I hadn’t left, you would never have had the chance to get close to him, let alone marry him.” “Shouldn’t you be grateful to me?” Laura turned to face me, tears welling in her eyes. Then, she let out a small, sharp laugh. “I came back, of course, to see if the so-called ‘unforgettable love’ really held that much weight.” “And what did you find?” I asked. But honestly, I didn’t really want to hear the answer. James chose that moment to walk in, just in time to see Laura’s unshed tears and my furrowed brow. “What are you doing here?” he asked me first. I placed the folder on his desk, about to speak. “Mr. Croft,” Laura cut in, her voice laced with a subtle note of grievance. “I told Mrs. Croft you were in a meeting, but she insisted on waiting… I’ll be leaving now.” She gave James a look that was both hesitant and meaningful. But his gaze was fixed on me, his expression as deep and unreadable as a still, dark well. I saw a flicker of confusion, then annoyance, in Laura’s eyes. Perhaps she didn’t know that James had changed a lot over the years too. He didn’t answer her. He just lowered his voice and asked me, “What is it?” Under his intense gaze, my throat suddenly felt dry. And with Laura still standing there, I felt like an intruder, a clown in someone else’s private circus. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words “divorce agreement” in front of them. I couldn’t bear to lose so completely. “You can look at it later.” Then, I fled from that suffocating office, James’s cold voice echoing behind me: “You. Come over here and close the door.” What would he say to her? Would he look at the divorce agreement right away? Would they embrace, celebrating their freedom from the domineering rich girl? Or would he ask her gently what grievances she had suffered at my hands? Blame me for bullying his one true love? But no matter what, he had gotten everything he wanted from me, from my family. Now that I was setting him free, we should be even, right? Miss Reed’s bank account had never been short of funds. But I transferred all the money I had saved over the years back to my family’s account. It was a drop in the ocean compared to the losses James had caused, but it made me feel a little better. I was the one who had brought the wolf into our home. I had to take some responsibility. I didn’t get a call from James. Instead, it was Walter. “Ma’am, Mr. Croft has had a bit too much to drink. He seems to be caught up with a group of people and can’t get away. Do you want to come and see?” I froze, then stood up instinctively, ready to leave. “Whose party is it?” I had only taken a few steps when I remembered I had already asked for a divorce. In my current position, it was probably inappropriate for me to show up. “I’m not sure. Sounds like a reunion with some old classmates.” “Ma’am, you should probably come quickly. My car just got into a fender-bender, and I’m dealing with the other driver right now. I can’t leave.” Before I could say anything, Walter hung up. I bit my lip and went anyway. The lights in the club’s corridor were a dizzying, strobing mess. It took me a while to find the private room Walter had mentioned. The heavy door was slightly ajar, and the voices from inside drifted out clearly. “James! Come on, one more drink!” “You’re really something else now! Out of all of us, you’re the most successful! CEO of a publicly traded company, your net worth must be through the roof!” “Yeah, James, you have to help us out in the future!” another voice chimed in, dripping with flattery. “Don’t forget about us, your old buddies!” “I won’t,” James’s voice finally came, deeper and a little slurred from the alcohol. After a brief silence, a sleazy voice spoke up again. “Man, James, you’ve got it all—career, love life… you’re the real winner here. A woman from the Reed family, wow.” His tone shifted, becoming deliberately wistful. “But you know, sometimes I think about it, and it’s such a shame.” “Back in the day, you and Laura, you were the perfect couple! Everyone in our class was so jealous. If it weren’t for…” He trailed off, but the unspoken words hung in the air like a heavy stone. The noise in the room seemed to die down. Everyone was waiting, holding their breath, to see how James would react. Including me, outside the door. My heart clenched, my nails digging into my palms. Then, another voice, feigning innocence, picked up the thread. “What are you talking about? James’s doing great now.” “But hey, Laura’s here today too! Laura, come on, tell us, what really happened back then? You two were so good together, how did you suddenly…” So, Laura was there too. Her voice, soft and melodious, filled the silence, laced with just the right amount of plaintiveness and helplessness. “What’s the point of bringing up the past?” “My family was going through a difficult time. I had to leave. Some people… are just luckier than me. Let’s not talk about it.” Someone immediately piped up, “Don’t be too sad, Laura. James’s family was in trouble back then, it was a tough time. And some people, well, you know, they take advantage of a situation! Such clever tactics! But now you’re back, and James’s doing well. It’s the perfect opportunity for you two to get back together.” “What are you guys talking about!” Laura protested quickly, but her voice was full of a poorly concealed shyness. Taking advantage of a situation. Getting back together. Blood rushed to my head, then receded just as quickly, leaving me ice-cold. The light filtering through the crack in the door warped before my eyes. What was I doing here? Right. I was supposed to be picking James up. But this door in front of me felt like a ghost from five years ago, a portal to a past I didn’t belong to. What right did I, an outsider, have to push it open? I took a step back, then another, until I was swallowed by the shadows of the hallway. The door clicked open. It was Laura, helping a stumbling James out. “You’re drunk. Let me take you home,” she murmured, her voice a soft caress, her face so close to his. James gently pushed her away. “I’m fine. You go on home.” He leaned against the wall, but his unsteady steps betrayed him. I knew his tolerance for alcohol. He was very drunk. I took an involuntary step forward. And then, Laura threw herself into his arms. “James, James,” she whispered, her voice a seductive thread in the dim, swirling lights of the corridor, trapping all three of us in a frozen tableau. “I’m back, James. Look at me.” “I had to leave back then. You can blame me all you want, but you can’t just ignore me.” “All these years, I’ve never forgotten you.” “You let me stay by your side, so you must not have forgotten me either, right?” James slowly lifted his head. I practically fled. But the club’s corridors were a dark, twisting labyrinth that seemed to have no end. After several wrong turns, just as I was about to ask a server for directions, a hand grabbed me from behind and pulled me into an embrace. “Who is it?” I struggled, turning around. And came face to face with him.

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My fiancée photoshopped my head out of our engagement photos and replaced it with her first love. Then she posted it for all the world to see, with the caption: “A decade of waiting, finally answered today.” When I angrily confronted her, she was completely nonchalant. “What’s the big deal? It’s obviously photoshopped. Can’t friends have a little fun? It’s normal.” The result? On our wedding day, every single one of Ava’s friends and family thought her first love was the groom. When I pulled Ava aside, begging her to acknowledge me as her fiancé, she pretended not to know me and wrapped her arm around the other man’s. Treated like some crazed wedding crasher, I was beaten until my ribs broke and rushed to the hospital. Lying in that hospital bed, my heart finally gave out. I dialed the number of the mother I hadn’t spoken to in three years. “Mom,” I said, my voice hollow. “I’ll do it. I’ll agree to the arranged marriage.” 1 During my hospital stay, my fiancée, Ava, didn’t call once. Instead, her first love, Justin, posted a picture to his social media. Curvy and stacked. Someone’s getting lucky tonight. The accompanying photo was of Ava, dressed in lace lingerie, leaning over to shave Justin’s face. The angle was deliberately provocative. The whole image was suggestive, designed to make your mind wander. The old me would have seen that photo and immediately called her, demanding to know why they couldn’t respect boundaries, asking if she even remembered she had a fiancé, begging to know if she still loved me… But now? Staring at the picture, I felt nothing. I even managed to tap the ‘like’ button. A second later, my phone rang. It was Ava. She launched into her explanation. “Honey, don’t misunderstand. Justin’s hand got hurt at the wedding, I was just helping him shave, that’s all.” Hurt at the wedding? A cold laugh escaped my lips. Because Ava had replaced my face with Justin’s on our wedding photos, all the guests had assumed Justin was the groom. When I, the actual groom, had tried to get Ava to clarify things, to prove my identity, she’d announced to everyone, “The groom is Justin. This guy is just some pathetic dog who follows me around.” That’s when her friends and family had surrounded me, beating me to a bloody pulp. And Justin’s “injury”? He’d tried to snatch the boutonnière from my chest and pricked his finger on the pin. The difference between who she loved and who she didn’t was painfully, brutally clear. I was lying in a hospital bed, unable to move, while Justin was apparently incapacitated by a pinprick. A sharp, final pang of pain shot through my heart. In that instant, any remaining feeling I had for her vanished completely. “Mm,” I said into the phone. “I’m not misunderstanding.” “If that’s all, I’m hanging up.” But Ava, as if terrified I wouldn’t believe her, kept talking. “At the wedding, I just didn’t want Justin to feel embarrassed when everyone mistook him for the groom. That’s why I didn’t clear things up for you. Don’t be upset about it, okay? We can just have another wedding.” I listened silently. She was afraid of embarrassing Justin. What about me? “I don’t care,” I said, my voice flat. “You don’t need to explain.” Perhaps my lack of emotion, my failure to immediately forgive her as I always did, set her off. Her tone, previously apologetic, sharpened. “Ethan, I’ve already explained it to you. What is this attitude?” “Are you giving me the silent treatment?” I said nothing. My attitude? For all the years we’d been together, no matter what mistake she made, no matter how many of my boundaries she crossed, all she had to do was cry a little, act soft, and offer some flimsy excuse. I would instantly crumble, pulling her into my arms and comforting her. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it was my fault too. Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry.” And now, after this, she still expected me to forgive her. A profound exhaustion washed over me. Every bone in my body ached as if it were broken. Her insistent questioning continued on the other end of the line. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was about to hang up when she added one more thing. “Oh, and check yourself out of the hospital tonight. You’re a grown man, what’s a little injury? Don’t be so dramatic.” “On your way home, pick up some ribs from that famous barbecue place across town. I’m craving them.” The barbecue place was in the north. Our home was in the south. A ninety-minute round trip. She really did see me as nothing more than an errand boy. 2 I checked myself out of the hospital. The cast was still on my arm, a dull ache throbbing beneath it. I had to take a cab home. My injured hand meant the fingerprint scanner wouldn’t work, and I kept fumbling the password. Figuring Ava was home, I knocked. The person who opened the door was her first love, Justin. He welcomed me in with a broad, warm smile. “Ethan, you’re back! Ava’s in the shower.” He gestured to his hand. “Oh, man, it’s my fault. You know, my finger is injured, and Ava was worried I wouldn’t be able to use the fingerprint lock, so she changed the password.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “It’s the anniversary of the day Ava and I first got together. I bet you didn’t know that. I’ll text it to you in a bit.” An anniversary? Ava couldn’t even remember my birthday, but she remembered the anniversary of her relationship with her first love. I looked at Justin. He was wearing the matching set of couple’s pajamas that belonged to Ava and me. His hair was damp, his face cleanly shaven, and he was holding a hairdryer. Justin noticed my gaze. “Ava asked me to dry her hair for her. You have no idea, back when we were together, she used to insist on it. Couldn’t miss a single night.” He held up his hands placatingly. “Don’t get the wrong idea, we’re just friends now.” “If you’re not happy about it, here, you can do it.” Justin shoved the hairdryer into my injured hand. Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Ava emerged, wearing the same style of pajamas as Justin. She was toweling her hair dry. “Justin,” she said, “aren’t you going to dry my hair? Why aren’t you coming in?” Then, she saw me. Her face, flushed pink from the steam, instantly went pale. She rushed over to explain. “I was just tired, so I asked Justin to help me with my hair. Don’t misunderstand.” Honestly, there was nothing left to misunderstand. His hand was too injured to shave. Her arms were too tired to dry her own hair. Useless on their own, but a hundred percent willing to do it for each other. I handed the hairdryer back to Justin and walked toward the bedroom. Ava grabbed me, her voice sharp with panic. “Ethan, what is your problem? You wouldn’t talk on the phone, and now you’re acting like this in person.” “Don’t push your luck!” Her grip on my wrist was crushing, completely disregarding my fresh injury. “And where are the ribs? Didn’t I tell you to get ribs?” “Why don’t you ever listen to me? Go out and buy them now!” The pain was sharp, and my patience finally snapped. “I’m not buying them!” I shook her hand off and continued into the bedroom. The sight that greeted me was a floor littered with clothes—a jacket, underwear—and on the bed, a pair of torn stockings and boxer shorts. And there, hanging from the frame of our wedding portrait, was a single, snapped black bra strap. 3 Ava scrambled in front of me, shutting the door. “I was just changing in here. It’s a bit of a mess.” “Go buy the ribs, and I’ll have the room cleaned up by the time you get back.” I gave her one last look, then turned and went into the guest room. The walls were thin. I could hear everything from the living room. “Ava, don’t be angry. I don’t have to have the ribs. Ethan’s in a bad mood, you shouldn’t make things harder for him.” “If you’re hungry, how about I cook for you?” “Oh, Justin, you’re just so generous and forgiving. Not like him. I tell him something a hundred times, and he still insists on defying me.” “Okay, okay. Let me dry your hair first. I’d be heartbroken if you caught a cold.” The whirring of the hairdryer started up. It was the perfect cover. I dialed the number of the mother I hadn’t spoken to in three years. “Mom,” I said, “about that arranged marriage you mentioned. I’ll do it.” My mother’s voice was filled with joy. “Oh, son, you’ve finally come to your senses! Your father and I are getting old, and you’re our only child. You have no idea… for that woman, you gave up your inheritance, everything. These past five years, your father’s hair has turned white with worry.” “We heard about what happened at the wedding. A woman like that is not worthy of you. She’s flighty and unfaithful, she doesn’t deserve you.” “But since you’ve agreed… how does the eighth of next month sound for the wedding?” My mother’s voice was now tinged with the frailness of age. My eyes welled up. I had been so foolish. I had thought love was everything. When my parents disapproved of Ava, I had run away with her without a second thought, cutting off all contact for five years. But all I ever had to do was turn around, and they were still there, waiting for me. “Okay,” I said, my voice thick. “I’ll wrap things up here and come home. You two can help me with the wedding preparations.” “Wedding? What wedding?” The guest room door opened without warning. I coolly hung up the phone and looked at Ava. She was holding a takeout container, which she placed on the nightstand. “What were you saying about a wedding?” “Didn’t I tell you we’d have to postpone it? Are you that desperate to get married? Afraid of ending up an old bachelor?” Seeing the anxiety on her face, I answered calmly, “I was just explaining the situation to a friend.” Ava visibly relaxed. She opened the takeout box, revealing the ribs inside. “You didn’t buy them, but Justin did.” “He was afraid you’d be upset, so he bought you a whole rack. Ethan, let’s just drop this, okay? Don’t be so unforgiving.” I covered my mouth and nose, turning my head away. Annoyance flashed in Ava’s eyes. “What is that reaction? Justin was kind enough to apologize, and you’re acting disgusted?” “Are you just going to waste his kindness? Ethan, don’t take this too far!” I took it too far? “You know I have a physical aversion to barbecue, don’t you?” 4 Back when Ava and I first ran away together, we had less than two thousand dollars to our names. To help me adjust to a normal life, Ava got me a job at a popular barbecue joint. At the time, she’d said, “Ethan, I love barbecue. If you work here, does that mean I’ll get to eat it all the time?” For that one sentence, I spent my days plucking feathers and cleaning hundreds of chickens, my body permanently steeped in the cloying, greasy smell. Over time, I developed a visceral disgust for it. Even the cooked meat made me sick. Back then, Ava would ignore the smell, throwing her arms around me the moment I got home. “Ethan, I don’t like barbecue anymore. Please, quit that job. I can’t stand to see you working so hard every day.” So, what is love? I told her to take the food away. Ava opened her mouth, then closed it. Finally, all she could manage was: “I’m sorry, Ethan. I forgot.” She didn’t forget. She just didn’t love me anymore. In the past, when I came home from work, she would have my clothes washed and would scrub the whole apartment with disinfectant, just so I wouldn’t have to smell a hint of that greasy smoke. She once stood in hundred-degree heat wearing a stuffy mascot costume, handing out flyers just to buy me a birthday cake. She had accepted the simple ring I wove for her from blades of grass, tears streaming down her face as she said yes to my proposal, promising to be my wife. But you can’t chase the past. I took a deep breath, but the smell of the barbecue still drifted into my nose. I couldn’t stop myself from gagging. Ava quickly tied up the bag. “What do you want to eat, then? I’ll make you something.” I was about to say I didn’t need anything. A knock came at the door. “Ava, I spilled the container! I burned my hand! Can you take me to the hospital?” Hearing Justin’s voice, Ava immediately rushed to the door, her face etched with concern. “How could you be so careless? It’s all red! Your hands are so precious, we can’t let them get scarred.” Before she left, she remembered to toss a line over her shoulder to me. “Ethan, I’m taking Justin to the hospital. He’s a pianist. His hands can’t have anything happen to them.” The door slammed shut, leaving me in the silent room with the takeout container on the nightstand. After a moment, I picked it up and walked out to throw it away. Just as I reached the hall, I saw them by the elevator. Ava was holding Justin’s hand, blowing gently on the small red patch of skin. The elevator dinged. They stepped inside. A single door closed, separating two worlds. And sealing the end of our future together.

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1 The day my wife, Isabelle, went to the airport to pick up her childhood friend, Ross, on his return to the country, our lives shattered. It started with something so small. Our two boys fell, and I helped my own son, Ryan, to his feet first. I didn’t get to Ross’s son, David, in that first instant. For that, she banished us. She sent my son and me to the Sanctuary of Mount Sorrow, a remote monastery, so I could, in her words, “learn the meaning of compassion.” In the gnawing hunger and bitter cold of that place, three years passed. And then, my son froze to death. On the day of his burial, Isabelle arrived at the Sanctuary. Ross was with her. She had come to take my son’s bone marrow. David had leukemia, and she needed to see if Ryan was a match. I told her our son was dead. She scoffed. “Three years, and you haven’t changed a bit. You’d go so far as to curse your own son just to avoid saving David.” Her voice was like ice. “Let me tell you something, Ross. I don’t care if you say he’s dead. Even if he is dead, I’ll dig up his coffin myself to see if his marrow is still viable.” … I was forced to stand at the monastery gates to welcome the distinguished guests. I never imagined that guest would be the very woman who had condemned my son and me to this suffering: my wife, Isabelle. I hadn’t seen her in three years. Her first words to me were, “So, have you learned your lesson?” I stared at her cold, beautiful face, the memory of that day flooding back. It was because two children had fallen, and I had helped Ryan first. She had just returned from the airport with Ross and saw the whole thing. She watched Ross rush to comfort David, and her brow furrowed in anger as she rounded on me, accusing me of being petty. “David is only staying with us for a few days until Ross gets settled. I can’t believe you can’t even tolerate that much,” she had said, her face a mask of disappointment. “Take your son and go to the Sanctuary. Meditate on your failings. You can come back when you’ve changed.” And so, Ryan and I were sent to this desolate place. We were starved of food, of warmth, and sometimes, we were attacked by wild animals from the surrounding forest. In all that time, Isabelle never visited. Not once. Pulled from my thoughts, I gave a numb, noncommittal, “Hn.” Her expression softened slightly, and she finally stated her purpose. “David has leukemia. I need Ryan to get tested as a bone marrow donor. For David’s sake, I’m willing to forgive you and personally take you both home.” My eyelashes trembled. I swallowed the bitter acid rising in my throat. “You can’t take him,” I said softly. “As for me…” A bitter smile twisted my lips. “I’m staying here. To be with my son.” Isabelle’s face instantly darkened. “What do you mean? You know David is dying, and this is how you act? Selfish and narrow-minded! This is a life, Ross! A life we can save!” She didn’t know that every word she spoke was another knife twisting in my heart. Ross, seeing the tension, stepped forward, his voice dripping with false humility. “Ross, I know you’re upset. That Isabelle sent you and Ryan here three years ago because of us. I’m… I’m so sorry.” He bowed his head. “If you’ll just let Ryan get tested, I’ll do anything for you. Anything.” Isabelle immediately grabbed Ross’s hand, her voice softening as she spoke to him. “You don’t have to beg him. He was the one in the wrong. I carried Ryan for ten months. I gave birth to him. Ross has no right to deny me this.” Her gaze, when it returned to me, was burning with fire. I simply stared back. After a moment, Isabelle took a deep breath and barked an order at the men she’d brought with her. “Find Ryan. Tear this place apart if you have to, but you will find him.” She glared at me, her jaw set. The monks who had gathered to watch exchanged uneasy glances. The abbot, Father Michael, finally stepped forward. “Blessings upon you, madam,” he said to Isabelle. “It is not that Ross is unwilling, it is simply that…” Isabelle cut him off with a cold laugh, her eyes still locked on me. “That what?” Father Michael sighed, a deep, mournful sound. “The young boy, Ryan… he passed away from the cold seven days ago.” Isabelle froze for a beat, and then her face contorted with rage. “Ross,” she hissed, her eyes black holes of fury, “is Ryan dead?” I said nothing, my silence a confirmation. She swept her arm across a nearby table, sending a jar of pickled vegetables crashing to the floor. “Ross! I can’t believe it! After three whole years, you’re still the same pathetic man! You’d curse your own son, claim he’s dead, just to keep him from saving David!” “I’m telling you, I don’t care if he’s dead or alive! Even if he’s in a coffin, I’ll have it dug up and pry his bones apart myself to see if his marrow can be used!” 2 A resolve as hard as steel shone in Isabelle’s eyes. She couldn’t fathom how the gentle, kind Ross she knew could have become this unrecognizable stranger. On the drive up to the monastery, she had been filled with hopeful visions of their future together. She had planned to tell him that sending him and Ryan away had been a necessary evil. Three years ago, her company, Fourier Corp, had been on the verge of collapse. To stabilize it, she’d had to enter into a sham marriage with Ross. Sending Ross and Ryan to a remote, safe place under a flimsy pretext had been the only way. She had always intended to bring them back. But the work at Fourier had been relentless, and she’d put it off, day after day. She had assumed that Ross, with his soft, forgiving nature, would melt with a few apologies and a little sweet talk. He always had. He had always spoiled her. As for Ryan… she resented him for stealing Ross’s affection after he was born, but he was still the product of their love. She was willing to win him over, too. Ryan loved to eat and play; she had already commissioned a private amusement park to be built for him. She was certain the little rascal wouldn’t be able to resist such a bribe. She would make up for the hardships they had endured. Then David was diagnosed with leukemia. The thought that Ryan’s marrow could be a match had kept her awake for nights, giddy with excitement. It was the perfect, public reason to finally bring her family home. But Ross had changed. He was lying. He said Ryan was dead. Frozen to death. What a joke. While she hadn’t visited in person, she had sent a truckload of supplies every single month. She’d made sure they wanted for nothing. It was this blatant, clumsy lie that enraged her so deeply. The more she thought, the angrier she became. She strode forward and grabbed my wrist, her grip like a vise. She stared at me, her thoughts a silent scream: Give me back my gentle, kind Ross. He’s not like you. After a long moment, her eyes grew red. She loosened her grip slightly, still afraid of hurting me. Just admit it now, Ross, she thought, her heart pounding. Just apologize, and I’ll forgive everything. She watched my face, her own lips trembling with tension. Then, I opened my mouth. “Isabelle,” I said, my voice hollow. “Our son is really dead.” “You killed him.” “If you hadn’t been so blind, so stubborn, if you hadn’t sent us to this hellhole, he would still be alive.” Every word was a spike driving through her heart. He wasn’t just lying; he was trying to blame her. This man was no longer the Ross she knew. She dropped my hand completely, her head slumping in defeat. When she looked up again, her face was a mask of cold determination. She was about to speak when one of her men ran up to her, breathless. “Ma’am, we’ve found the young master!” I didn’t understand the expression on Isabelle’s face. It was as if I was the one in the wrong. “Ross, I’ve found him,” she said, her voice dripping with disappointment. “Are you still going to stand there and lie to my face with such conviction?” I stared at her for two seconds, and then I began to laugh. A wild, broken sound. Isabelle’s brow furrowed. I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Isabelle, why don’t you ask them what they found?” A flicker of doubt crossed her face. She looked at her man, but he quickly avoided her gaze, his own face pale and frightened. A sliver of panic pierced through her composure as she looked back at my dead-eyed expression. She steadied herself. “Bring Ryan to me.” The seconds stretched into an eternity. Finally, her men returned, carefully carrying a small, crude wooden coffin. It was deep winter, and the monastery was high in the mountains. Even after seven days, my son’s body was perfectly preserved. He lay there with his eyes closed, looking so peaceful, as if he were only sleeping. The color drained from Isabelle’s face. She staggered back. “How… how can this be?” Ross, who had been standing silently by her side, grabbed her arm to steady her. He gave her what he must have thought was a reassuring look, then turned to me. “Ross, I know you hate us, but you shouldn’t have gone this far. To make your own son lie in a coffin just to sell a lie…” He shook his head disapprovingly. “I know we’re all modern people, but this is… it’s a bad omen. Please, have Ryan get up.” I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. Then, I smiled. I couldn’t imagine how a person could twist reality so completely. But Isabelle… she believed him. She peered into the coffin again, at our son’s serene, sleeping face. She wrenched her arm from Ross’s grasp. The next thing I knew, a searing pain exploded across my cheek. I looked at her, stunned. Her face was stone. “Ross, you’ve truly lost your mind.” Her voice was a low snarl. “I don’t know how you found out I was coming today, how you managed to stage this entire drama for me. Is this your revenge for what I did three years ago?” “Fine! You want the truth? I’ll give you the truth! It was for the company! Do you have any idea who Ross is, his status? Our ‘marriage’ allowed me to save the company. And you? What good are you? And you dare to orchestrate this elaborate play to guilt me?” she spat. “And our marriage was fake anyway!” “I don’t care if Ryan is dead or alive. He will donate his marrow to David. And if he is dead, I’ll crack open every bone in his body until I find some that’s still usable!” I just stared at the venomous creature in front of me. A morbid curiosity rose within me, and I asked the question aloud. “Isabelle, why are you so sure Ryan and David will be a match?” I expected her to falter, to show some sign of guilt. She didn’t even blink. “Don’t play games with me, Ross. I’ll tell you the truth. David is my biological son. And so is Ross’s.” “Ross’s family demanded he produce an heir before they would hand over the family business. He didn’t have anyone he truly loved, so to help him, I agreed to have his child.” “But I’m not as sordid as you think. I didn’t want to hurt you, so the child was conceived via IVF. I lied and said I was going overseas for a project for a few months. I was protecting your feelings.” I stared at her, my voice cold as the grave. “So you did all this… for me?” Isabelle’s face twisted in a look of pain. “Because I truly love you, Ross.” “As long as you repent, as long as you let Ryan save David, our family can go back to how it was before.” I closed my eyes, fighting back a wave of pure rage. When I opened them, my voice was flat. “Isabelle, our son is dead. Why can’t you accept that?” “Our family? The moment Ryan died, this family shattered into a million pieces. Isabelle, I want a divorce.” The words hung in the silent air. No one dared to breathe. Isabelle looked at me in disbelief. “A divorce?!” Her eyes darted around the courtyard, and her gaze fell on a young woman in the corner, a local herbalist, who was staring at me with open concern. Understanding seemed to dawn on Isabelle’s face. She turned back to me, her voice laced with arctic cold. “It’s because of her, isn’t it? You made up this entire story to trick me, all so you could divorce me and be with her.” “You’re insane,” I gritted out. She studied my face for a few seconds, and then a slow, chilling smile spread across her lips. “Fine,” she said coldly. “If Ryan is truly dead, then I’ll grant you a divorce.” She paused, her eyes glittering. “But if he’s not, you will never be free of me. Even in death, you will be buried in my family’s ancestral plot!” “Now,” she mused, her voice dangerously soft, “how shall I expose your lie?” Just then, a faint meow came from the corner. Everyone turned. Ross’s eyes lit up. He leaned in and whispered in Isabelle’s ear, “Isabelle, that’s the cat Ryan was always taking care of. He loved that thing more than anything. He wouldn’t be able to stand seeing it hurt.” Isabelle’s gaze fell on the scrawny Ragdoll cat, and her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Seeing her hesitation, Ross pulled back, his head bowed. “You don’t think I’m being cruel, do you? Using a little cat as a bargaining chip…” He sounded ashamed. Isabelle looked from him to me, and a bitter smile touched her lips. “Ross was willing to curse his own son. What you’re suggesting is nothing.” I heard the sneer in her voice but could barely react. My heart gave a slow, heavy thud. It was becoming difficult to breathe. Suddenly, the cat let out a piercing shriek. I looked up.

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I bankrupted my own company to take my girlfriend’s public, making her dream a reality. At her IPO celebration, I planned to reveal myself as a billionaire heir and announce our relationship. But she stepped on stage arm-in-arm with another man. “Bryan,” she said, trembling with excitement, “the pregnancy rumors are true—he’s the father!” Silence filled the room. Everyone turned to me. I stood, forced a smile, and started clapping. The crowd erupted. Watching Sophia glow in Bryan’s arms, I realized—if this was her happiness, I wouldn’t stand in her way. I walked out and called my father: “Kill Sophia’s funding. Let her figure out the IPO alone.” 1 My father, sharp as ever, knew instantly that something was broken between Sophia and me. He sighed, a heavy sound over the phone. “Bill, are you sure about this? If we pull this funding, Rosewood Tech won’t just fail to go public. They’ll go under completely. That hole from their tax evasion is too deep to fill.” He paused. “I won’t ask why you’re making this decision. I just… it’s been seven years, son. I don’t want you to have any regrets.” Seven years. After I got with Sophia, I cared more about her career than she did. When I first got involved, her company was a black hole, and to keep it from collapsing, I cannibalized my own successful business. She’d cried, telling me how much it hurt to see me work myself into a bleeding ulcer for her, swearing she would never let me down. She promised that once the company went public, we would finally make our relationship official. So I worked even harder, all for the day I could stand by her side without hiding. But promises? They’re just hot air from the person making them, and only a fool believes them. “Dad,” I said firmly. “Just trust me on this.” He didn’t press further. The moment I hung up, Sophia stormed out after me. “Bill! You’re the host. You can’t just walk out! That’s so unprofessional!” A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “My duties didn’t include emceeing the public announcement of your affair.” Her face went rigid. “You’re the host, you host the whole event! You don’t get to pick and choose.” Her voice rose, dripping with indignation. “Besides, I was telling the truth. Bryan is the father of the child in my belly! I can’t very well lie and say it’s you, can I?” She hadn’t told me she was pregnant. I found the test in the trash can myself. I didn’t question it, just naturally assumed the child was mine. I started taking even better care of her, and she let me, never correcting my assumption. I never imagined I was just a placeholder, a glorified caretaker for another man’s woman and child. The thought was as nauseating as swallowing a fly. I didn’t want to waste another breath on her. “I’m going home.” After a quick shower, I collapsed onto the bed. My phone buzzed. It was a video from Bryan. I opened it, and the sounds of Sophia’s moans filled the quiet room, each one louder than the last. She moved with him, trying different positions, her face a mask of pure ecstasy. “Oh, Bryan,” her voice cooed from the speaker, “only with you… only with you does it feel like our souls are truly merging.” So, they really were a perfect match. That video showed me a side of Sophia I’d never known. With me, she’d just lie there like a starfish, a mechanical, lifeless participant. I had always thought she just had a low libido. Turns out, that wasn’t it at all. She just didn’t love me. My eyelids felt like lead weights. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, deeper than any I’d ever felt. I, who always needed to get to the bottom of everything, now just wanted to sleep. I dropped my phone and let the darkness take me. 2 In the dead of night, Sophia came home, propping up a drunken Bryan. The blankets were ripped off me, and a blast of cold air hit my skin. I opened my eyes to see Sophia’s face, arrogant and demanding, hovering above me. “You’re sleeping on the couch,” she ordered. “Bryan’s taking the bed.” She had always treated me this way, with a casual, high-handed authority. After seven years, she was used to me being her servant. I didn’t move. “Doesn’t he have his own home?” “Can’t you see he’s drunk? I have to take care of him.” Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if Bryan were her rightful partner. How considerate. I remembered the time I drank myself sick to land a deal for her company. I called her to pick me up, but she said it was too cold to go out. I had to drag myself home, collapsing the moment I walked through the door. I spent the night on the freezing floor and woke up with a raging fever. I had to call the ambulance myself. She didn’t visit me once in the hospital. “Ah, I almost forgot,” I said, my voice flat. “He’s the father of your child.” Sophia took my words as agreement. “Exactly. So are you going to move, or not?” “Bill, I know you’re angry,” she said, her voice softening slightly, “but I can’t let my child call another man ‘daddy’.” What a noble mother. But who created this mess? I looked at her, truly looked at her, and for the first time, she utterly disgusted me. I started to get up, but she stopped me. Her expression was a mix of conflict and resolution. Finally, she let out a breath. “The person I love is Bryan. The baby and I… we can’t be without him.” She paused, as if offering me a grand concession. “So, here’s the plan. The three of us will live together. You’ll keep managing the company, and you’ll get your share. I won’t cheat you.” A laugh bubbled up inside me. The sheer audacity of it. She wanted to have her cake and eat it too. Make her grand public declaration with Bryan, and keep me around as her free labor and glorified butler. “No, thank you,” I said. “Since you chose him, I wish you both the best.” Sophia looked at me as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. “Can you stop being so dramatic? Without me, how would you even survive? I’ve been supporting you all these years.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Just stay put. The three of us can make it work. It was Bryan’s idea, too.” Just then, Bryan made a retching sound. Sophia immediately rushed to his side, all concern and worry. I went to the study to sleep. It wasn’t long before the study door was being pounded on, the noise shaking the frame. “Get up and make breakfast! Bryan and I are hungry. We want noodles, hurry up!” I pulled the covers over my head, pretending not to hear. After a while, the knocking stopped. My sleep was ruined anyway. When I finally got up, they were both gone. Perfect. Time to pack. The stench of stale alcohol in the master bedroom was overwhelming. She could really tolerate anything for Bryan’s sake. I opened the closet. My clothes were just a few items, all of which I’d bought myself before moving in. After a moment’s thought, I gathered them all and threw them in the trash. If I was letting go, I was letting go of everything. Besides the clothes, I also threw out the matching couple’s toothbrushes, slippers, and dishes I had bought. As I cleared things out, it dawned on me: the only person invested in our “couple” status had been me. Sophia’s set of everything was still in its original packaging, untouched. As I was clearing out the shoe rack, I found something tucked away in a corner. A pair of men’s underwear. Not my size. The blood in my veins turned to ice. I looked around the apartment, our home, and a sickening montage played in my mind: Bryan and Sophia, laughing, touching, living in every corner of this place, while I remained completely in the dark. Thank God I was finally awake. 3 After shipping my few remaining personal effects back to my family’s estate, I headed to Rosewood Tech to resign. Beyond funneling resources to Sophia from behind the scenes, I also held the official title of General Manager. For seven years, day in and day out, I had been the one closing deals, solving crises, and pushing the company upward. I pushed open the door to my—to the General Manager’s office—and found Sophia and Bryan wrapped around each other, directing a secretary who was packing up a desk. My desk. Now that they were public, they certainly weren’t shy. I thought back to all the times I had asked, begged, for us to be more open, and how Sophia had always refused. She was the boss, she’d said, she had to set an example. What would happen if all her employees started office romances? How could she maintain control? “Throw all of his junk out,” Sophia’s sharp voice cut through the air. “I don’t know why we let such garbage accumulate in here. It’s cheapening the place.” They turned as I entered. Sophia’s face was a mask of cold indifference, while Bryan shot me a look of pure, triumphant provocation. “Bill,” Sophia announced, her tone brittle, “in light of your immature behavior at the celebration party yesterday, you’re being demoted. Bryan will be the new General Manager. You can be his deputy.” She gestured towards Bryan. “That funding deal from New York? You’ll assist him in finalizing it from now on.” The New York deal. The one I’d spent a month wining and dining the client’s representative for, drinking until I gave myself a bleeding ulcer just to get a foot in the door. The deal that was only truly secured because of my father’s influence. Now that they thought it was a sure thing, they were trying to kick me to the curb and steal the credit. How utterly predictable. I didn’t bother arguing. I simply pulled the resignation letter from my jacket and placed it on the desk in front of her. “Ms. Rosewood, this is my resignation. Please approve it.” The sudden move caught them completely off guard. Sophia and Bryan exchanged a shocked glance. She frowned, her eyes searching my face for some hidden motive. Bryan, however, was practically vibrating with excitement. With me gone, the project—and all the glory—would fall squarely into his lap. “Come on, ‘Deputy’ Vance,” he sneered. “Are you really going to quit just because of a small demotion? Or do you actually think this company can’t function without you? Pulling a stunt like this right before the IPO… real classy.” Any hesitation Sophia might have had vanished at Bryan’s words. Her face darkened with anger. “I don’t know why I ever hired you in the first place!” she snapped. “You want to leave? Fine! I accept. Now pack your things and get the hell out! And don’t you ever think of setting foot in Rosewood Tech again.” I nodded, quietly placing my few belongings into a cardboard box. Just then, Sophia’s assistant rushed in, out of breath. “Ms. Rosewood, the representative from the New York firm is here! They said they’re ready to talk about the financing!” Sophia immediately started fussing over Bryan, straightening his tie. “You’ve got this,” she whispered encouragingly. “It’s all been negotiated. All that’s left is the signature. Don’t be nervous.” “I won’t,” Bryan said, puffing out his chest as he walked out of the office. I finished packing and walked out with my box. In the hallway, I saw Bryan, a fawning smile plastered on his face as he extended a hand to the representative. “Hello, sir. My name is Bryan Carter. I’m the new General Manager here, and I’ll be handling the financing deal with you.” The representative didn’t even glance at his outstretched hand. His eyes lit up when he saw me. He immediately came over, taking the box from my arms. “Mr. Vance,” he said, his voice loud and clear for everyone to hear. “I’ve already been notified about the situation. I’m actually here today to officially cancel the investment.” He gestured vaguely back toward Bryan. “This whole deal was contingent on your involvement, as a favor to your father. With you gone, there’s no reason for us to stay.”

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