Category: English

My best friend said a woman of my wealth only lacked one thing: security. So my husband synced all my dashcam footage to his phone—the best protection his lawyer skills could offer. That worked until the neighbor girl Penny scratched my car with a shared bike for the tenth time. In her faded uniform, tear-streaked, she pleaded, “Sister, I’m sorry… I’ll pay.” I’d let her go the first nine times. But this time, she just glanced at me, no remorse. “It’s just a scratch. You’re rich—you wouldn’t hassle a poor student, right?” I laughed coldly. “We’ll handle it legally. The dashcam has it all. Full compensation, plus the past nine incidents—three million dollars total.” She froze, then cried, “Three million? You hag, this car’s worth around five hundred thousand! My boyfriend’s a top lawyer—I’m not scared of you!” She didn’t know it was a limited Maybach—one body line alone cost half a million. I shrugged off her threat until the court date. There, a man in a sharp suit held her, whispering, “My crybaby, ready to call me your boyfriend now? I’ll help you send her and her lawyer to jail.” The man was my husband, Danny Davenport—supposedly on a London business trip—the undefeated top-tier lawyer. 1 “Really? She’s so rich, and I’m just a poor student. How could I possibly win against her?” Penny sobbed. Danny wiped the tears from her face. “You don’t trust your boyfriend, hmm?” “Your boyfriend is a famous, top-tier lawyer. I’ll make her kneel and beg for your forgiveness, how about it?” Penny finally broke into a smile through her tears. “Okay.” “Beat that old hag. Humph.” “Alright, my little princess, whatever you say goes.” I stared at the two of them for a long moment, then picked up my phone. Danny answered my call, unconsciously frowning. After a moment, he moved away from Penny and pressed the answer button. Danny’s smiling voice quickly came through: “Honey, you just left and you already miss me?” “Where are you?” I asked directly. Danny paused for only a second. “On a business trip in London, I report to you every day, don’t I?” “Gotta go. Otherwise, the client will get moody.” I watched him lose his smile, his face changing instantly as he hung up. Penny leaned in: “Who were you talking to?” Danny quickly kissed her on the cheek. “Just some insignificant woman. What, are you jealous?” I stood not far away, watching the backs of the two, like a couple deeply in love, and my heart involuntarily twitched. I didn’t attend the hearing that day; I sent my assistant in my stead. That evening, I returned home. I sat on the sofa, flipping through photo albums, looking at every little moment with Danny, my heart numb. Danny graduated from a prestigious university, and at a young age, he had already become a top-tier professional in his field. Everyone said we were a perfect match. Until then, I believed it too. I laughed, a self-mocking sound. Then, a text message arrived on my phone. Penny flaunted a message to me. “What’s the use of having so much money? Does anyone love you, old hag?” “But my boyfriend loves me very much.” Then came a series of intimate photos of them, hand in hand, cheek to cheek. The last one was her victory statement. I stared at that victory statement, every word on it mocking me. Before I could even reply, Danny’s call came in. “Blair Kingsley, what’s wrong with you? A woman almost thirty, making things difficult for a nineteen-year-old girl.” “How could you be so vicious, making a poor student pay three million dollars?” I smiled. So he knew it was me on the other side. And he knew the whole story, yet still chose to help her win the lawsuit. Truly a top-tier lawyer. I didn’t say anything, just hung up the phone and called my company lawyer. “I’m sorry, Ms. Kingsley, we’re simply no match for your husband.” “All of your dashcam videos were deleted by your husband. We have no substantial evidence to prove the car was scratched by the other party.” “It’s alright. I have another lawsuit, and I might need to trouble you further.” The person on the other end paused. “What lawsuit? Why not ask Mr. Davenport?” I spoke slowly. “A divorce lawsuit.” “He’s the defendant.” 2 Danny returned three days later. I merely gave him a cold glance and turned to walk away. “Blair, honey, why are you still angry?” “My attitude was bad the other day, I apologize, okay? I was too short-tempered.” “When I saw Penny, I remembered when I was in college, I was just as poor as her. I couldn’t even afford to eat. That’s why I felt sympathy.” He didn’t mention his relationship with Penny at all. “We don’t lack this money in our family. Just consider it good karma, helping the poor.” I stared at him, unmoving. Danny took my hand and led me out, saying it was compensation to buy me a handbag. Initially, I didn’t want to go, but I had been cooped up at home for too long these past few days. As we entered, a shop assistant walked over. “Ms. Kingsley, you’re here? And your husband too?” She enthusiastically showed me the new arrivals. Danny said beside me, “My dear wife, pick any bag you like today.” “Consider it my apology for upsetting you.” The shop assistants whispered to each other. “Mr. Davenport is so good to you, Ms. Kingsley.” “You two are even at the top of our city’s exemplary couple list.” Exemplary couple? I laughed mockingly. No longer interested in choosing a bag, I just picked one at random. Just then, Penny ran over, her face alight with surprise, and grabbed Danny’s arm. “Danny, darling, what are you doing here?” “Wow, the bag in Ms. Kingsley’s hand is so beautiful.” The shop assistant froze, looking at us in confusion. I watched Penny’s expression. It seemed she already knew I was Danny’s wife, yet she showed no intention of avoiding him. No, perhaps she had known all along. My eyes lowered, and I handed the bag toward her. “Pretty, isn’t it? Two million dollars. You wouldn’t earn that even if you worked your fingers to the bone for ten years.” Penny’s expression stiffened, then tears started to fall. She didn’t speak, just stared at Danny with tearful, wronged eyes, and after a long moment, she cried out. “I really can’t afford it.” “But Mrs. Davenport, you don’t have to look down on people so much. I’m poor, so what? Does being poor mean I don’t deserve to live?” “I’ll leave, alright? I’ll never appear before you rich, noble people again.” Danny frowned at me, his earlier patience for coaxing completely gone. “Who says she can’t afford it? I’ll pay for this bag for her.” With that, he pulled out a ten-dollar canvas bag from somewhere, throwing it at me. “You wear this today.” “Go reflect on yourself, on when you became so snobbish, looking down on the poor.” “You’re nothing but a parasite who only got by on family connections since childhood. In another ten years, Penny might not be any worse than you.” He finished speaking and ran after Penny, leaving me alone in the store. The shop assistants exchanged glances, then looked at me with pity. I watched his retreating back, my heart involuntarily contracting. A fine, prickling pain, like needles, intense and pervasive. I lowered my eyes, masking my emotions, pulled out my phone, took a photo of the bag’s payment record, and the backs of the two embracing downstairs. “Mr. Stark, evidence of infidelity.” 3 “Received.” I looked at Mr. Stark’ text, lowered my eyes, then put my phone away. The shop assistant behind me looked at me timidly. “Ms. Kingsley, that bag was the last one — are you still displaying your photo with Mr. Davenport?” My gaze shifted to the photo on the store’s shelf. It displayed a picture of Danny and me taken right after we graduated from college. Danny had just joined the law firm then, still an unknown legal assistant. He saved up his first three months’ salary, earned from eating instant noodles, to buy me the cheapest bag in this store. When he gave it to me, he held me and said, “Though I don’t have much money now, Blair, I promise you. We will definitely have a happy and bright future, definitely.” That bag is still in my closet, my favorite one. Because every time I saw it, I remembered Danny’s words, immersed in the future he had planned. Now he had money, successful and famous. That photo, however, felt like a slap, a harsh blow to my face. “Ms. Kingsley?” The shop assistant’s voice pulled me back from my memories. My gaze fell upon that photo. My smile in the picture was radiant, I had never imagined a day like this. “Throw it away.” “It’s not important anymore.” What use was a useless photo? Just like a useless person, I no longer wanted him. I averted my eyes, fiddling with my phone, then walked out of the store without looking back. I spent three hours by the sea, letting the wind blow over me. From dating in college to being married for seven years, every little moment replayed in my mind. That dull pain in my heart, which had surged like the waves, now completely subsided. I sent him a message. “Tomorrow is our seventh anniversary. I think we should talk.” Danny didn’t reply to me. Penny, however, posted something on her social media. She showed off the designer bag Danny had given her, with the caption: “The one who loves you will cross a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers to be with you.” “In love, only the unloved are the home wreckers.” Then I saw Danny had liked her post. I laughed mockingly. He had time to look at social media, but no time to reply to my message. Fortunately, I didn’t care anymore. Just then, my phone suddenly received a video call invitation. It was from Penny. “Sister. Guess where I am now?” “Sister is indeed rich. Even the dogs in her house eat better than me. A mere animal, what right does it have?” I looked at Penny in the video. At some point, she had gone to my villa, and Snowball, the dog I had raised since it was a puppy, was tightly held in her arms. “What do you want? Let go of it.” Snowball had always been aggressive towards people it disliked. It struggled wildly in her arms, perhaps having heard my voice. It struggled even harder, and Penny gripped its head tightly. Snowball turned its head and bit Penny’s hand hard. I watched Penny’s face, which had been flaunting, begin to contort. “You dead animal.” “That old hag bullying me is one thing, but you’re bullying me too.” Penny, wearing high heels, brutally kicked Snowball. I ran like a madwoman. “Don’t you dare touch it.” The ten-minute walk from the beach to my house, I covered in just five minutes. But it was still too late. I pushed open the door of my house and saw Snowball lying on the ground, tears in its eyes, whimpering softly. That was the expression it only showed when it was in pain. My heart was fiercely pierced. “Penny, let go of it. You let go of it.” Penny smiled at me. “Sister, you’re back. Your house is really big, it’s just that your dog is a little naughty.” “Oh, by the way, are you so out of breath because you rushed back for this dog?” She looked down at Snowball, her eyes suddenly turning sinister, and she laughed at me. “You wait. I’ll bring it down for you right away.” I saw her expression, and a bad premonition instantly enveloped me. “No—”

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1 I never, in a million years, thought the three titans of my lab would get so bored they’d make a bet about me. The prize was a batch of top-tier, imported lab reagents. The wager? To see which of them this dirt-poor grad student, who barely scraped her way in, would try to seduce within a month to scrounge for equipment access and funding. So that’s how we’re playing it? Hard mode? Fine. I’ll see their bet and raise them a full-blown psychological drama, turning their little competition into an all-out war. Now, they’re practically tripping over each other to give me access, approve my funding, and invite me to their projects, the original bet long forgotten. And me? The former “target” of their wager? I’m just sipping the coffee they brought me, watching them fight for my affection. Honestly, fellas. If you’d just been this helpful from the start, we could have avoided all this drama. … My name is Aria, and I’m the lab’s resident stray. My advisor, Professor Freeman, is a legend who exists only in the signature of his emails. The most valuable things he ever gave me were my “last-chance admission” status and the sage advice to “be self-reliant.” To graduate, I’ve honed the art of resource-scrounging to a razor’s edge. My skin has thickened accordingly. The lab’s three big shots are my primary targets. Caden, the cold, brilliant academic, is the gatekeeper of all lab equipment. Want to use a machine? You have to get through an approval process stricter than airport security. Blake, the walking ATM, controls the lab’s finances. A single vial of reagent from his private fridge is worth more than everything I own. And Noah, the tech wizard, is a professional award-winner. I can’t even find the power button on the advanced equipment he builds. Today, my graduation data hit yet another wall. I mustered the courage to ask Caden to borrow an instrument, only to be shut down with a curt “I’m using it” and “It needs maintenance.” Then I tried asking Blake for some reagents. He pushed up his glasses, a sly, fox-like grin on his face. “Ah, this one is for core team members only.” The final blow came during the group meeting. Noah, with his typical bluntness, tore my data to shreds in front of everyone, even criticizing the color scheme of my charts. Once is a coincidence. Twice is an accident. Three times… this was a coordinated attack. It wasn’t until I saw an open chat window on a public computer that it all clicked. [Betting she’ll come after one of us for resources within a month.] [I’ll put up that batch of imported reagents as the prize.] [Deal.] The timestamp was from a week ago. Well, damn. And here I thought I was just trying to graduate. Turns out I’m the star of a reality show: Love & Lab Coats. Before discovering this earth-shattering wager, my life in the lab was simple, tedious, and soul-crushing. My days were more tangled than a kitten’s ball of yarn. In the morning, I’d get up before dawn to help pack meals in the cafeteria for a free breakfast. Then I’d rush to the lab’s common area to fight for a computer older than I am, constantly oscillating between “It’s almost done!” and “It crashed again.” At noon, I’d choke down a stale, discounted bread roll while sprinting to another campus to work as a teaching assistant, grading an endless mountain of papers. In the afternoon, I’d squeeze in experiments back at the lab, my most fervent prayer being, “Please, dear God of machinery, don’t break down. I can’t afford to fix you.” Evenings were spent either bussing tables at a local diner or tutoring kids who would ask, “Teacher, why are you always so sleepy?” I’d usually stumble back to my dorm late at night, forcing my eyes open to read papers and write reports, often waking up with a jolt after falling asleep at my desk, a page of my draft soaked through. I was a perpetual motion machine, the broke edition, fueled by sheer desperation to graduate and eat. Chasing a guy? Romance? That was a luxury for people with time, money, and a full head of hair. We were from different worlds. They floated on clouds, discussing top-tier journals, competitions, and their bright academic futures. I was down in the mud, clawing my way toward a diploma and a job that could ease the burden on my family. My daily worries were whether my data would run, if I’d be late for my part-time job, and if the cafeteria lady would be generous with her serving spoon. I never imagined that a low-level lab rat like me would become the subject of a bet between the three top dogs. Does this count as my big break? After discovering the bet, I spent a solid half-hour doing angry sit-ups on my dorm bed. But anger wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I had to get smart. They wanted to see me chase one of them? Fine. I’ll show them a “targeted strike” of affection so precise and devastating it’ll make their experimental data look sloppy. 2 Three o’clock in the afternoon. The lab’s common area was at its busiest. The three big shots were huddled around Noah’s computer, staring at a screen of what looked like pure chaos—some advanced algorithm, apparently. I chose my moment and made my grand entrance, carrying a tray of coffees I’d spent a small fortune on. “Hey guys, you’re all working so hard! I brought coffee for everyone!” My smile was radiant, projecting the warmth of a loving, supportive colleague. The background noise of the lab screeched to a halt. You could feel the unspoken question hanging in the air: Aria is treating? Aria, the girl who could split a penny eight ways and had mastered eighteen different methods of mooching Wi-Fi, was actually buying coffee? I could read the shock in their eyes. My reputation as the lab’s number-one cheapskate was legendary. The last time the senior students went out for a group dinner, I’d successfully escaped paying my share by claiming I had to rush back to “take in my laundry.” The time before that, when everyone chipped in for the professor’s birthday, my contribution was a handmade card on paper I’d salvaged from the recycling bin. But I ignored their stunned faces, my gaze locking onto Caden. In front of everyone, I presented him with the “special order”—a hot, black Americano, no sugar, no milk. “Caden, this one’s for you. I remembered you’re lactose intolerant, so this should be perfect.” My tone was the epitome of casual thoughtfulness. The air grew thick. Caden’s expression was a complex mix of suspicion and confusion. “You… you bought this?” I almost broke character. My inner self was screaming. No, I used the power of my sincere gaze to convince the coffee machine to give it to me for free! This cost me two lunches, you fool! The pain was real. But on the outside, I lowered my head slightly, my voice soft but with a hint of defiance. “Yeah, I did. You guys are always helping me out. It’s the least I could do.” Helping me out by blocking all my resources, you mean! I seethed internally. Blake pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. “Well, isn’t our Aria being unusually… generous. And so thoughtful, too. I guess you’re desperate to get your data from that HPLC Caden is guarding?” Caden’s hand, which had been reaching for the coffee, froze. His eyes narrowed, studying my face. Here we go. The show was on. In the next second, my eyes welled up. I looked at Blake with wide, “innocent” eyes, my expression a perfect picture of disbelief and hurt. “You’ve got it all wrong, Blake.” My voice was soft, my gaze pure as the driven snow. “I’ll figure out my own data. I can’t just expect everyone to take care of me all the time.” I bit my lower lip, then turned to Caden. My eyes now held a perfect blend of sympathy, admiration, and a shy “I understand you” look. “I saw Caden in the instrument room late last night, calibrating the equipment. He works so hard… I just thought he deserved a little extra care. That’s all.” My voice grew quieter, and a faint blush crept up my cheeks for added effect. I had perfectly embodied the image of a secret admirer, too shy to express her feelings but deeply concerned for her senior. I was so convincing, I almost believed it myself. Caden was clearly thrown by my direct approach. He looked at the coffee in my hand like it was a hot potato, unsure whether to take it. Was that… a blush creeping up his neck? He cleared his throat and, under the complicated stares of his two friends, took the coffee. His voice was a little strained. “Thanks for the thought.” Exactly the reaction I wanted. “You’re welcome!” I beamed at him. Then, as if just remembering the other two, I let out a little “Oh!” and offered them the remaining cups. “Blake, Noah, these are for you.” Blake’s smile was a bit forced. “How very kind of you, Aria.” Noah just grunted, took a cup, and said nothing. I pretended not to notice their expressions, but inside, I was cackling. Men! They all need the validation of female attention to feel secure in their own charm. They might not be interested in me personally, but with a bet on the line, whoever I “chased” would be the implicit winner. Oh, the beautifully childish male ego. 3 Just as I predicted, Blake and Noah exchanged a look that clearly said, So she’s going for Caden. I was screaming internally: You sweet summer children. You have no idea. Just when they thought I was about to launch a full-scale offensive on Caden, I calmly sat down. From my worn canvas tote bag, I dug around, and dug around, and dug some more, finally pulling out a wrinkled, 30-cent Snickers bar. “Here.” I shyly offered the candy bar to Noah. “Noah, you looked a little pale at the last meeting. Maybe low blood sugar. You should keep this handy.” Noah stared at the pathetic-looking Snickers bar as if it had personally offended him. His face was a perfect picture of bewilderment. Blake and Caden stared at each other, their expressions screaming, “WTF???” I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at their collective confusion. But as amusing as the drama was, I had bills to pay. To scrape together next semester’s housing fees, I had opened up a new front on the battlefield of part-time jobs. “Mr. Rossi’s Diner,” a greasy spoon on the street behind campus. Today was my first day on the job. Dressed in an oversized uniform left by the previous employee, I was wiping down a table when the bell over the door jingled. I reflexively pasted on my professional smile. “Welcome t—” The “o” got stuck in my throat. Oh, crap. Why in the world were Caden and Blake in a place where the average meal cost less than ten dollars? Weren’t they supposed to be at some fancy restaurant discussing molecular gastronomy? My brain went into red alert. My body reacted faster than my thoughts, and I made a move to dive into the kitchen. But Blake’s radar-like eyes had already locked onto me. He blinked, and then a smug, “Gotcha!” grin spread across his face. He nudged Caden. Caden turned. The “mere mortals, do not approach” expression on his face cracked when he saw me, clad in a grease-stained apron, precariously balancing a tray. What are you looking at? Never seen a beautiful woman bussing tables before? I managed a smile that was uglier than a grimace. “Right this way, gentlemen.” As I led them to a booth, Blake drawled, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “Well, well, Aria? Small world, isn’t it? You’ve certainly got a wide range of talents.” I was mentally rolling my eyes so hard I was afraid they’d get stuck. It’s my first day, you jerk! But I kept the smile plastered on my face. “You’re too kind. Life’s tough, got to be versatile.” I continued my performance, sneaking a shy, embarrassed glance at Caden. He, in turn, had sunk into a strange silence. After taking their order, I waited for Caden to head to the restroom, then scurried over to the cash register. “Mr. Rossi,” I whispered to the owner, “that table over there… when they’re done, if there are any untouched dishes, could you maybe… pack them up for me?” The owner looked at me, confused. “You haven’t eaten dinner?” I lowered my head, my voice even quieter, laced with embarrassment. “I spent my meal money on coffee today…” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Caden stop dead in his tracks on his way back from the restroom. Just as I’d planned. When he returned to his seat, his gaze was even more complicated. Later, as I was serving their food, my hand “trembled,” and a dish of chili oil nearly spilled all over me. Just as I was about to star in a tragic B-movie titled Waitress Down, a long, clean hand shot out and steadied the teetering plate. It was Caden. His brow was furrowed, and his eyes darted from my face to the counter where I’d been begging for leftovers. His voice was low. “You haven’t eaten dinner?” Hook, line, and sinker. I set the dish down, my head bowed as I twisted the corner of my apron. My voice was barely a whisper, filled with the panic of being caught. “Oh! N-no, it’s fine. I’m used to it. I… I went a little over budget with the coffee this afternoon.” 4 It was true, I hadn’t eaten. Those coffees were a major expense. My heart was still bleeding over it. He watched me in silence, the cool indifference in his eyes slowly replaced by sheer disbelief. He probably couldn’t comprehend how someone could be so broke that buying a few coffees meant skipping a meal. Caden barely touched his food. He poked at his rice for ages, his gaze constantly drifting in my direction. When Blake tried to talk to him, he just mumbled noncommittal responses. As I weaved between tables, my mind was racing with calculations: the “pity + coffee” combo was working beautifully. Finally, they finished their meal. Blake took a call and left, and I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when I realized Caden hadn’t moved. He had shifted to a less conspicuous table near the door. I snuck a glance during a lull. The guy had his phone out and was pretending to read emails. Seriously? His acting was worse than mine. Who reads academic emails in a noisy, greasy diner? I pretended not to notice and went about my work—clearing tables, wiping them down, greeting new customers. But even while busy, I kept the performance going. I made sure to “accidentally” pass by his table several times, “casually” wiping sweat from my brow, and letting out a soft, pitiable grunt while lifting a heavy stack of bowls. From the corner of my eye, I could see “Mr. CEO” wasn’t reading a single word. His frown deepened, and his fingers swiped aimlessly at the screen. At 9:30, the diner closed. I rubbed my aching back, said goodbye to Mr. Rossi, and dragged my exhausted body out the door. A figure immediately blocked my path. It was Caden. He had actually waited all this time. Under the dim streetlight, he looked a little flustered. He was clutching a takeout bag, and the tips of his ears were distinctly red. “Here,” he said, holding out the bag. His tone was clipped, but his eyes avoided mine. “I was… waiting for you. It was on my way.” I almost burst out laughing. On your way? Dude, you live in the fancy apartments on the east side of campus, and I live in the crumbling dorms on the west. Your “way” is a bit of a detour. But I instantly switched into “surprised and flattered” mode, my eyes lighting up. “Caden, you waited for me?” He cleared his throat and shoved the bag into my hands, his gaze fixed on a distant lamppost. “Just eat it.” I took the warm, fragrant bag, and a genuine flicker of gratitude went through me—I was starving. But the show must go on. I looked up at him with wide, watery eyes, my voice soft. “Caden, you’re such a good person. You’re so smart and so considerate.” I blushed on cue, lowered my head, and mumbled, “I wish… I wish I could always meet people as nice as you.” Then, I “panicked,” looking up as if I’d said something scandalous, and quickly tried to backtrack. “Oh! I mean, thank you! I-I should go.” Clutching the food like a lifeline, I turned and practically ran toward my dorm. After a safe distance, I snuck a peek back. Caden was still standing there, a long, lonely figure under the streetlight. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, touched his ear again, and then, almost comically out of sync, turned and walked in the opposite direction. Seeing him looking like a flustered, love-struck teenager, a smirk played on my lips. I hugged the warm takeout container and hummed a little tune all the way back to my dorm.

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When we went to rescue my fiancé’s childhood friend, my mother became their hostage. My fiancé, the squad leader, shot and killed her. Afterward, he held me, his eyes red-rimmed, explaining, “Your mother was trying to push Willow out to cause a riot. I had no other choice.” “I’ll convince Willow not to expose your mother, to try and preserve her good name.” I couldn’t believe it, yet with each piece of damning evidence, I was forced to accept it. The immense pain extinguished my will to live. One time, as I slit my wrist again, I heard Sebastian Stone scoff in his study. “She knew Willow grew up without a mother, yet she flaunted their mother-daughter bond in front of her. She deserved to be punished.” “All I did was switch out the evidence, to let Willow vent her anger.” As my consciousness faded, I finally understood—my mother had been framed. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we rescued his childhood friend. I directly took my mother and smashed three jewelry stores, personally handing her over to the police. I thought this time, there would be no accidents. But to my surprise, Sebastian still shot and killed a middle-aged woman. … Crossing the caution tape, the hostage’s body lay before me. My teammates looked at me, their faces pale. “Captain Reed, your mother tried to incite a riot just now, pushing Willow out to take the bullets.” “She was in the wrong first, that’s why she was shot…” My brows furrowed instantly. Impossible. I had personally sent my mother to the police station. She couldn’t be out. So, who was it, then, who died by Sebastian’s gun in this timeline? I rushed toward the body, bending down to untie her hood, wanting to see her face. But my arm was suddenly grabbed. Sebastian held me tight, his eyes full of reproach. “Blair Reed, Willow was almost killed by your mother just now.” “As a law enforcement officer, instead of checking on the victim first, you’re looking at this murderer?” At his words, everyone around me looked at me with disdain. “That’s monstrous. Even if the killer is your own mother, you can’t cover for her like this, can you?” “I think this kidnapping might even have been orchestrated by her, just out of jealousy over Willow and Sebastian’s good relationship.” I glanced over. Sebastian was comforting Willow Finch, oblivious to everything else, his fingertips gently wiping away her tears. Hearing the torrent of accusations against me, he didn’t even shift his gaze. Even after living through it once, it still hurt immensely. I took a deep breath, scanning the scene. “Does anyone here have proof that my mother pushed Willow?” “Are you going to convict someone based on just two people’s words?” The scene fell silent instantly. Those who had been gossiping lowered their heads guiltily. Willow broke free from Sebastian’s embrace, knelt before me, tears streaming down her face. “Blair, I know you’re the Chief Captain, powerful and influential. No one dares to contradict you.” “But there are no cameras at the kidnapping site, and the kidnapper has been shot. Where would we find evidence?” “Do you truly believe I would falsely accuse your mother in a life-or-death situation?” She cried pathetically, like a fragile white flower. Pity reappeared in the eyes of those around her. Sebastian hurried forward, picked her up, and looked at me with nothing but impatience. “Blair, what more evidence do we need for this?” “I’m your fiancé, your mother’s future son-in-law! How could I possibly frame her?” “Just stop making a fuss, okay?” Hearing Sebastian’s words, the crowd, already biased towards Willow, believed him even more. They pointed fingers at me with disdain, and a fresh wave of vile insults assailed me. In my previous life, they had done the same, their words one after another nailing my mother and me to the pillar of shame. This time, I absolutely would not allow it to happen! I shoved them away fiercely and strode to the hostage’s side. I ripped off the hostage’s hood. “Whether it’s a false accusation or not, won’t we know once we see?” The next second, my eyes widened in shock! Not just me; after seeing the hostage’s face, everyone who had been arrogantly accusing me bent over, dry-heaving. The body’s face had been smashed beyond recognition. The kidnapping location was on a rooftop. After the hostage was shot, she had fallen directly from the building. Now, her face was gruesome, utterly unidentifiable. Willow covered her nose, kicking the body with a look of utter disgust. “That old hag, she stopped Sebastian and me when she was alive, and now she’s still disgusting me even in death.” “Someone just drag her away and dump her.” Hearing her utterly depraved words, my pupils constricted, and I clenched my fists tightly. Sebastian blocked my path. “Blair, what do you have to say now?” “Don’t tell me you’re going to disown your own mother’s body just to clear your name?” I simply laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. What did he mean, I was clearing my name? They were the ones who killed an innocent hostage and framed my mother! Too tired to argue further, I pulled out my phone and called my squad. “Arrest Sebastian and lock him up. And immediately notify the coroner to perform an autopsy on the hostage.” Hearing my words, Sebastian’s face went pale. Based on the bullet trajectory and wound morphology on the head, the coroner could determine the hostage’s state at the moment she was shot—whether she was motionless or struggling. Then, Sebastian’s lies would fall apart. I waved my hand, motioning for the squad to take Sebastian away. But they didn’t move. Just as I wondered why, several of them silently surrounded me. Their eyes darted away, and after a long moment, a few voices, faint as whispers, tried to persuade me. “Captain Reed, please don’t make things difficult for Captain Stone. Your mother, in the heavens, would have wanted to sacrifice herself.” “We’re all family. Let’s just let this go.” I looked at them in shock, meeting Sebastian’s mocking smile. “Blair, still think you’re the all-powerful Chief Captain?” “Don’t forget you’re on leave right now. You can’t control me.” “Furthermore, as a family member, you should recuse yourself. It’s not appropriate for you to interfere with our proper case procedures.” I froze instantly, my limbs turning to ice. Half a month ago, Sebastian and I were on a mission together. I took a knife for him, directly to the heart. The doctor said two centimeters more, and I wouldn’t have survived. At that time, Sebastian, his face tear-streaked, knelt and swore he would protect me my entire life. How long had it been? All those vows were cast aside. And the injury I took for him had become an even sharper blade in his hands, stabbing back at me with ferocity. Willow delicately clung to Sebastian’s arm. “Sebastian, I told you she’d try to get your squad to come after you, all so she could steal the credit for this hostage rescue, didn’t I?” “So what if she saved you before? When it comes to real benefits, she’s still selfish.” “Good thing you had the foresight to get her squad members under control first.” Listening to her, Sebastian’s gaze toward me grew increasingly disappointed. “Blair, I thought you were just being a little temperamental, but I didn’t realize you actually wanted to harm me!” He roughly shoved me toward the body. “You stay right here. Don’t go anywhere without my permission, and don’t you dare call the coroner!” I fell sprawling to the ground, my arm cut by the pebbles, leaving a long gash. Pain seeped from my skin into my heart. I clenched my fists tightly. Now, my only comfort was that I had saved my mother’s life. As for who this hostage was, I would definitely find a way to find out. After an unknown amount of time, I struggled to my feet. My fingertips accidentally brushed against a wristwatch on the hostage’s wrist. I froze instantly. That was the watch I had custom-made for my mother. How could it be on the body’s hand? My mother’s previous watches were easily damaged, so I had specially ordered a reinforced one for her. My hands trembling, I picked up the watch to examine it closely. Indeed, her name was engraved on the strap. It was definitely the one I had given her. My gaze slowly fell upon the body, and I panicked. I hadn’t looked closely at the body before, but now, the more I looked, the more it resembled my mother’s build. But shouldn’t she be in custody right now? How could she be here? Cold sweat broke out, and I couldn’t bear to think further. I immediately turned to leave. I had to go to the police station and see with my own eyes if my mother was still there. Suddenly, a cold, stinging sensation shot through my wrist. Sebastian had handcuffed me to the spot! Meeting my shocked expression, he looked impatient. “Blair, don’t even think about going back to report to the superiors.” “This matter concerns Willow’s reputation. Be sensible. There’s no way I’m letting you go.” The handcuffs on my wrist tightened, biting into my flesh, even drawing a trickle of blood. Even with hardened criminals, Sebastian had never tormented anyone like this. Rage mixed with helplessness, scorching my chest. Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the distance. The Chief of Police was here! He was the elder I respected most; he would surely help me. Sure enough, after learning of the situation, the Chief’s gaze darkened, and he stepped forward to carefully examine the body. I had just breathed a sigh of relief. The next second, Willow’s high heel savagely slammed into the picture! The sharp heel mercilessly dug into the corpse’s head. One stomp, two stomps, each with full force. The already mangled head was now completely disfigured by her stomping. My mind went blank. By the time Willow strutted away, I was on my knees, tears streaming down my face. The Chief sighed, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “Blair, it’s not that I won’t help you.” “Right now, our department is up for evaluation, and without Captain Stone’s case, it will be very difficult.” “The evidence has already been destroyed. Please accept my condolences.” I stared blankly at the unrecognizable body on the ground, all sounds around me seemingly fading away. Faintly, I heard my teammates’ sneering. “So arrogant usually, she totally deserved this!” “Blair has just lost her mother and is too emotional, Chief. Why not give the Chief Captain’s position to Sebastian Stone?” “Our department still needs a cleaner. Blair can take over when her leave is up.” My heart turned to ice. I wiped away my tears and stood up calmly. “Now that the evidence is gone, and I no longer want the Chief Captain’s position, may I leave?” My teammates exchanged glances, then finally made way for me. Just as I lifted my foot to leave, Sebastian grabbed my arm again. “Blair, don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning.” “You want to trick us, then go to the provincial authorities to complain?” “If you continue to be so headstrong, don’t blame me for not being able to preserve your mother’s good name.” My mother was a retired police officer. In my previous life, after the incident, Sebastian immediately applied to the higher-ups to strip her of all her honors. Those were things she had earned with her life, incredibly precious. I unconsciously stopped. Sebastian ordered a few squad members to lock me in a room, then threw the hostage’s body in as well. The body hit the ground like a broken rag, kicking up a cloud of dust. A sharp pain pierced my heart. Kneeling beside the body, I wanted to tidy her appearance. My gaze fell upon the corpse’s hand. The watch was unchanged, but this time I noticed something different. My heart jolted. This person wasn’t my mother!

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1 After my heart surgery, my brother confessed to me, “We gave the heart that matched you to Luna.” “Your surgery wasn’t done; they just opened you up and stitched you back.” I trembled, utterly incredulous. “You gave my heart to her? What about me?” Mom and Dad’s smiles vanished. “Luna has always been frail since she was little, what’s wrong with letting her have it this one time?” “With how full of life you are, you’ll find another heart eventually!” “If we’d known you’d be so calculating, we never should have brought you back.” Luna’s crisp, tinkling laughter drifted in from outside, her voice sweet and cloyingly flirtatious. “Brother, where are you? Weren’t we supposed to take the baby to the Ferris wheel?” I stood frozen, my heart suddenly aching. But the doctor said my body was on the verge of collapse. That heart was my only hope to live. It felt like forever, but I was woken by laughter, having passed out from the pain. I looked up to see them returning, doting on Luna, the fake daughter. She walked in the center, a amusement park bow in her hair. Mom held her hand, Dad and my brother followed, laden with shopping bags. “Baby’s tired of walking, wants milk tea!” Luna stomped her foot, pouting sweetly, her voice cloyingly cute. “The Ferris wheel was so fun just now, Daddy, will you take baby again next time?” “Of course, of course,” Dad readily agreed. “As long as our little Luna is happy.” Mom reached out to adjust her scarf, chiding her softly, “You just had major surgery not long ago, don’t bounce around, be careful of your incision.” Luna stuck out her tongue. “I know, Mommy, but baby’s happy!” She turned her head and kissed Mom. “Thank you, Mommy, for baby’s new heart.” “Brother always said baby was too weak to go diving, but now Brother has no excuse!” She looked back at my brother, grinning. “Next month, Brother promised to take baby diving in the Maldives!” I suddenly remembered that spring when I was first brought home. They used to smile at me then too. Mom took my hand and led me into that house, pointing to a south-facing bedroom and saying it was mine. She said she heard I liked the ocean, so she specially chose curtains as blue as the sea for me. I stood at the doorway, looking at the sun-drenched window, and tears streamed down my face. The voices outside faded, and the phone rang. When I answered, the doctor’s anxious voice came through. “Seraphina, how could you give the heart that finally matched you to your sister?” “If we can’t find another suitable heart, you’ll die!” I gripped the phone, my heart heavy with bitterness. The doctor, sensing my silence, sighed heavily. “Alright, never mind. I won’t ask. You need to come to the hospital immediately. I’ll do another assessment, report your critical status, and put you back on the most urgent waiting list.” “Seraphina, do you hear me? We can’t give up!” My nose stung. After thanking him, I hung up and took a taxi to the hospital. Blood tests, forms, examinations—I’d been through the routine countless times, it was etched into my memory. I sat alone on a cold chair, waiting for the results, while others were surrounded by their families. I looked down at the dense needle marks on my hand, unmoving. I had long grown accustomed to this kind of loneliness. By the time I left the hospital, it was already dark. I hailed a cab home, but when I pushed open my room door, I froze. My bed was piled high with Luna’s suitcases and shopping bags, and her cosmetics and jewelry boxes cluttered my desk. My bedroom had become her storage room. 2 I stood at the doorway for a long time, then knelt to pick up a crumpled paper from the floor. It was covered in my clumsy handwriting from that time, with a heart drawn beside it. “Thank you, Mom, Dad, and Brother, for finding me. I promise to be a good daughter, a good sister.” “Seraphina, you’re back?” Mom’s voice came from behind me. “You can lend this room to Luna for her things for now; after all, the doctor said you’ll mostly be at the hospital for the next six months…” I suppressed the bitterness in my heart. “But this is my room.” Dad and my brother heard her voice and walked over, standing behind Mom. “So what if it’s your room? Luna just had major surgery, can’t you be a little more accommodating? We’re not saying you can’t live here.” I slowly exhaled, my chest tightening again. “She already took my chance at life.” I looked at them, speaking each word distinctly. “Now, do you want to take my room too?” After a brief silence, my brother was about to speak. “Maybe we can put her things in my…” But Luna suddenly peeked out from the stairwell. She wore pink loungewear, looking delicate and well-behaved. “Is Sister unhappy… Then I’ll move my things back.” She teared up, then bent down to pick up the largest suitcase. But as soon as she moved, she suddenly clutched her chest, swaying slightly. “Baby!” Mom was the first to rush over and support her. Dad quickly knelt down. “What’s wrong? Is your chest hurting? Don’t move, Daddy will carry you.” He picked Luna up in his arms, frantically rushing out. My brother followed, pulling out his phone to call for an ambulance. Before Mom left the room, she looked back at me. I’d seen that look before. Disgust and cold fury. “Seraphina! If anything happens to your sister, you’ll be in big trouble!” Watching the three of them leave, my chest suddenly contracted violently. The pain was different from usual; it felt like something deep inside my heart had ruptured. I leaned against the wall, slowly sliding to the floor, raising my hand to clutch my chest. The doctor’s voice echoed in my ears, “In your current condition, if you don’t get a matching heart soon, I’m afraid it will quickly…” I didn’t let him finish, but I understood what he meant. My remaining time was even shorter than I imagined. But I, I probably didn’t need it anymore. 3 That very night, I was admitted to the hospital. I lay in bed, and the door to my room opened. My brother stood in the doorway. He walked to my bedside, carrying a paper bag. “I brought you some osmanthus cakes.” This was my favorite dessert. Back when I was first brought home, I once stared at osmanthus cakes in front of a supermarket for a long time, but didn’t dare to ask for them. My brother noticed, and the next day, he bought a large box and put it in my room. That was the first time I felt that maybe there really was a place for me in this family. “Thank you, Brother.” My brother smiled and ruffled my hair, softening his tone. “Seraphina, I know you’re upset.” As soon as he said that, tears almost welled up in my eyes. But his next sentence made my tears recede. “I know you’re upset, but you have to understand, Luna’s bond with us is different from yours.” “During all those years you were growing up outside, Luna was always with us. Even though she’s not our biological child, eighteen years of affection aren’t fake.” My brother turned to look at me, his eyes carrying a pleading quality. “She’s always been in poor health since childhood, constantly running to the hospital, but she never complained. She’s so innocent and kind.” Seeing my silence, his voice dropped. “Seraphina, I’m not saying you’re bad.” “I just hope you understand that our bond with her was built day by day over eighteen years. You’ve only been back for less than two years; some things truly can’t be treated the same.” Eighteen years. Built day by day. I sat on the hospital bed, my heart aching as if it were being squeezed. When he said these words, he seemed to have completely forgotten how I spent those eighteen years. After being swapped at birth, I was abandoned at a rescue station, then sent to an orphanage. It wasn’t until I was almost an adult that I met a kind foster mother. But these things, they didn’t know, and didn’t want to know. In their eyes, those years I was “lost” outside were merely an insignificant interlude that could be lightly dismissed. “I know you’re angry,” my brother sighed, “But Seraphina, for the sake of this family, can you just try to get along with her?” I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything, my brother’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and a smile unconsciously curved his lips. “Brother, do you think the swimsuit I picked out is pretty?!” Luna’s voice came through the receiver, sweet and cloying. “Baby searched for so long, my eyes are tired, come quickly and help me choose!” My brother smiled, that gentle smile he only reserved for Luna. “Alright, Brother will be right there.” He stood up, pushed the chair back into place, and glanced at me. “Seraphina, I’ll come see you another day; you rest for now.” He turned and walked towards the door. Just then, a sudden, excruciating pain erupted in my chest. I grabbed the bed railing, arching my body from the agony. “Brother…” The monitoring equipment began to alarm wildly. My brother’s footsteps paused; as he started to turn, Luna called again. “Brother, do you like this one?! Baby thinks this one makes me look whitest!” He hesitated for only two seconds before making his choice. “Seraphina, I’ll have the nurse come right away, just bear with it…” By the time the nurse rushed into the room, his figure was no longer visible at the end of the corridor. I lay there, tears finally falling. That night, I took out a medical record sheet from the drawer and began to write my will. Before I could even put pen to paper, the door to my room was suddenly pushed open. The nurse ran in, panting, her eyes shining brightly. “Seraphina! You have it! A new match has been found!” 4 I shot up, pulled on my jacket, and ran to the doctor’s office. The on-duty doctor saw me, a rare smile on his face, and turned the computer screen towards me. “Seraphina, look, a new match has been successful.” “This heart donor is very young, all indicators are excellent. It’s arguably the best opportunity.” My eyes welled up instantly. The feeling of being pulled back from hell almost suffocated me. “However,” the doctor paused, “the surgery fees need to be settled as soon as possible, including the heart transplant and subsequent anti-rejection treatment, initially estimated at four hundred thousand dollars.” I froze for a moment. Four hundred thousand. I instinctively reached for my phone; ‘Dad’ glowed on the screen in my contact list. Even though they had done those things to me, at the brink of death, they were still my only hope. The phone rang for a long time before it was answered. “Dad…” “What? More about Luna?” Dad’s voice carried an impatient edge. “Seraphina, can you not be so sensible? The heart matter is settled; there’s no point in making a fuss.” “No, Dad, I have a new match.” I gripped the phone. “The doctor said this heart is especially good, but the surgery fee is four hundred thousand dollars, I…” The other end of the phone fell silent for a few seconds. I heard Mom’s voice in the background: “Who is it? Seraphina? What’s she making a fuss about again so late?” Then Luna’s sweet, syrupy voice: “Is it Sister? Is Sister still mad at baby…” Dad’s voice resumed. “Alright, I know about this. We’ll talk later.” The call was disconnected. I stared at the call-ended screen for a long time, stunned. My chest began to ache faintly again. I squeezed the phone tightly, comforting myself. Maybe they were just busy; maybe they would come tomorrow. Early the next morning, I called my mom. “Mom, did Dad tell you yesterday? The new match…” “He told me, he told me,” Mom’s voice was a little unnatural. “Seraphina, honey, we’ll figure out a way for that surgery fee.” “But the doctor said we can’t delay…” “I know we can’t delay, but you have to be considerate of the family’s situation, don’t you?” Her voice rose a few decibels. “Your sister just had major surgery; the medical bills alone were hundreds of thousands. Now she needs to recuperate at home, and everything costs money. The family’s money doesn’t grow on trees.” I opened my mouth, hearing footsteps and Luna’s voice on the other end. “Mommy, look at this handbag, isn’t it pretty?!” My brother’s voice followed immediately: “If you like it, buy it. Brother will get it for you.” The call was disconnected. I sat on the hospital bed, my eyes burning. Taking a deep breath, I turned and went home. When I pushed open the living room door, I froze. The sofa was piled high with shopping bags. Luna was nestled on the sofa, holding her phone and taking pictures. Mom sat beside her, helping her find angles. Dad leaned on the sofa, reading a newspaper. My brother was bending over, unpacking a box of macarons from a bag. Sunlight streamed in through the French windows, making the scene impossibly warm. “What… are you doing?” My voice made all four turn their heads simultaneously. Luna was the first to react, holding up the bag in her hand. “Sister, look! Mommy bought me a new bag! Is it pretty? It cost over thirty thousand, it’s a new, limited edition!” Thirty thousand. That was one-tenth of my surgery fee. Mom’s face changed. She put down her phone and stood up. “Seraphina, why are you back? Didn’t the doctor tell you to stay in the hospital?” “I came back to talk to you about the surgery fees.” I tried to keep myself calm. “The doctor said the new match was successful, but we can’t delay. The sooner the surgery…” “Alright, alright,” Dad’s face was displeased. “You come back and immediately talk about money. You’re always calling from the hospital talking about money. Four hundred thousand isn’t a small sum; how do you expect us to suddenly get that much?” I stared at the shopping bags on the sofa. “Then this bag…” “This is a post-surgery recovery gift for Luna,” Mom quickly interjected. “Luna just had such a big surgery; we have to make her happy. A good mood is beneficial for recovery. Don’t you understand that?” I understood. They spent thirty thousand to buy a bag for Luna after her surgery, to make her happy. But I hadn’t even had my surgery. I was almost out of time. 5 “Mom, my surgery only costs four hundred thousand.” “This match… it’s my last hope.” Silence fell over the living room for half a second after I said that. Then Luna gasped, covering her mouth, her eyes wide. “But Sister, you can still live for half a year, aren’t you just trying to trick Mom and Dad out of money?” All the blood rushed to my head. “What did you say?” “Did I say something wrong?” Luna shrank back towards Mom, her voice timid. “Sister, don’t be angry… I didn’t mean it like that, I just think Sister is lucky to have another matching heart so quickly.” “Luna!” I stepped forward, but my brother immediately blocked me. His tall body stood between Luna and me, looking down at me. “Why are you yelling at Luna? She didn’t mean any harm.” “She didn’t mean any harm?” My voice distorted. “She said I was trying to trick money out of you!” “Enough!” Dad stood up, his face clouded. “Seraphina, are you done with your tantrum? Luna was just joking; do you have to get so angry?!” “I’m not throwing a tantrum! I just want my surgery money! That’s my life savings!” “Life savings, life savings, isn’t it just money you want?” My brother looked at me coldly, pulling his car keys from his pocket and throwing them on the coffee table. “I can keep the car, but that’s only two hundred thousand, still half of your four hundred thousand. Are you going to sell the house we live in to pay for your medical treatment too?” “Seraphina,” Mom’s voice suddenly dropped very low. “Your sister just had surgery, her body is still weak. If you come back and make such a fuss and make her sick, can you take responsibility for that?” “The doctor said you can live for at least another six months, what’s the hurry? You’re not going to die tomorrow.” I stood there, my chest feeling like it had been violently struck by something. An intense pain began to spread from my heart to my limbs, making me almost unable to stand. “I really can’t wait any longer…” My voice began to tremble. “The doctor said I can’t wait, that match really can’t be delayed… Please believe me…” Luna peeked out from behind Mom, tilting her head and looking at me. “Sister, there you go again. Last time you were like this too; you pretended to be in pain when Brother went to see you. Now you’re pretending again.” “I’m not pretending!” In a rush of anger and frustration, I couldn’t help but charge towards Luna. “Seraphina, what do you want?! Stay away from Luna!” My brother slapped me across the face. I was knocked sideways, a metallic taste flooding my mouth. Just then, an unprecedented, excruciating pain erupted from my chest. Finally, my vision blurred, and I collapsed.

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1 On my deathbed, I begged my son: “Donate my heart to your father, Alistair Walker. He’s had cardiomyopathy for thirty years—it’s the last thing I can do for him.” But my son brushed me off impatiently. “Enough with the false kindness. Dad isn’t even sick.” I thought I’d misheard. “What?” He sneered. “If you hadn’t refused to divorce him, why would he have faked an illness to be with Aunt Olivia all these years?” I trembled, demanding proof. He handed me a marriage certificate—Alistair Walker and Olivia Thorne, smiling intimately. A furious pain shot through my heart. The home I’d built for half my life was a complete sham. My son’s face was cold. “Aunt Olivia is my real mother. Your own baby was drowned long ago. Back then, Dad and Olivia lost control, leading to her premature labor and heavy bleeding—she gave birth to me the same day as you. Dad was so shaken he developed heart palpitations. Fearing you’d never stop, he faked the illness for thirty years.” I collapsed, spitting blood. “Why tell me now?” His eyes burned with hatred. “You stole her place for thirty years. Now, on your deathbed, you want Dad to owe you gratitude? Why should he?” My mouth filled with bitterness as I gasped my last breath in regret. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the delivery room, next to his sister-in-law’s. An intense pain surged from below—I was in labor. … My body felt like it had been torn apart, lying utterly spent on the bed. The nurse brought the baby over for me to see. It was a boy, with a wrinkled little face and a loud cry. I made an excuse to go to the bathroom, enduring the intense pain, and slowly walked towards the restroom at the end of the corridor. The restroom was very close to Olivia Thorne’s room. The muffled sounds of conversation drifted from next door. It was Alistair Walker’s joyous voice. “Olivia, look, he has a birthmark on his shoulder, just like mine.” Olivia’s voice was weak but smiling. “It’s all your fault. I was almost due, but you just couldn’t help yourself yesterday… causing my premature labor.” Alistair chuckled softly. “My bad. But a premature birth is good, too; saves us from having to find an excuse to stall after Audrey gives birth.” He paused, “Don’t worry, after she got pregnant, just looking at her belly made me sick. I never touched her once. Later, I’ll have the doctor write a certificate saying my heart condition has worsened, so we can’t share a bed anymore.” Listening, my nails dug into my palms. When I was pregnant, I was dizzy with morning sickness, and he only said his heart was bothering him, afraid of noise. I felt sorry for him, enduring it alone. Later, he wasn’t as affectionate, and I thought it was due to his poor health and irritability. Turns out, he just found me in the way. I took a deep breath and sent a message to the male nurse I had immediately bribed after my rebirth: [You can switch the baby’s name tags now.] Then I deleted the message, returned to my room, and feigned sleep. Not long after, I heard someone come in. I didn’t open my eyes, listening as the person picked up a baby and quietly left. The next day, Alistair Walker came to the hospital, his face still pale. Following him were several doctors and Olivia Thorne’s hospital bed. She was propped up on the bed, looking weak. Alistair walked to my bedside. “Darling, you’ve worked hard.” I looked at him, a cold sneer in my heart. He spoke as if casually, “My sister-in-law’s baby didn’t make it; it was a premature birth and died. She’s upset, so I had her moved to this VIP room for a few days to rest quietly and recuperate.” I said nothing. “She is your sister-in-law, after all, and my brother passed away young. Since we’re all family, I thought she could be the baby’s godmother, what do you think?” I looked into his eyes; there wasn’t a trace of guilt. He packaged his affair with his sister-in-law and the child they had as a husband’s compassion for his sister-in-law. “Alright,” I nodded indifferently. Alistair nodded, satisfied, then turned to take his thermos out to get water. My gaze swept over the postpartum pads by my bedside. They were Olivia Thorne’s size. Even the postpartum pads he prepared for me were bought to fit her figure. I suddenly felt utterly ridiculous. Alistair left with the cup, and the doctors also left after settling in. Olivia Thorne, however, slowly rose, her steps instinctively moving towards the crib. “Olivia, you just gave birth, don’t move around too much.” My voice turned cold. She glanced at me, smiling gently. “I just want to see the baby.” “No need, he just fell asleep.” I instinctively shielded the crib, pushing her away. Olivia suddenly shrieked, collapsing to the floor. “Olivia!” Alistair cried out, rushing over. A dark red patch seeped through the hem of her hospital gown; it was blood from a burst wound. “Audrey, I just wanted to see your child, why did you push me… Are you afraid I’d bring bad luck to the baby? Boo-hoo-hoo…” Alistair abruptly looked up, his gaze at me like knives. “Audrey Hayes! My sister-in-law just had surgery, why would you push her?!” “You’re absolutely insane! I’ll have my sister-in-law transferred to a platinum suite, you need to calm down!” For several days, Alistair didn’t visit me. My wound throbbed faintly, but I endured it, never once pressing the call bell. On the fifth day, my mother arrived. When she pushed open the door, I was leaning against the headboard, looking out the window. The first glance at me brought tears to her eyes. “How did you get so thin?” I smiled and said I was fine, that all mothers looked like this after childbirth. She didn’t believe it, insisting on pulling back the blanket to look at my wound. The gauze was soaked in blood. My mother’s tears immediately fell, and she frantically called the nurse. I was helped to the examination room for new stitches. The disinfectant touching the torn flesh made me gasp, but I didn’t utter a sound. My mother stood beside me, her hands trembling. “Is Alistair treating you badly?” I didn’t want her to worry. “No, Mom, he’s not well, he can’t manage.” My mother opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but swallowed it back. “Your uncle will be here today. Whatever grievances you have, tell him. He’ll make things right for you.” I paused. Uncle Julian Thorne, CEO of Thorne Industries. In Ashton, his word could shake half the city. In these years since I married into the Walker family, my uncle and I hadn’t had much interaction. I always thought not to burden him, never bothered him. This time, I might not be able to hold on alone. After my mother left to pick up my uncle, I went to the restroom at the end of the corridor to wash my face. When I returned, the crib was empty. “Where’s the baby?” I asked the nurse anxiously. The nurse didn’t even look up. “Mr. Walker said he took him to his room, to have his sister-in-law help look after him.” My mind buzzed. I turned and ran to Olivia Thorne’s room. The male nurse followed behind me. He was the one I had arranged beforehand, and he’d been staying nearby these past few days. As I pushed open the door, I saw Olivia half-propped on the bed, her hospital gown half-open, breastfeeding. Alistair sat in a chair by the bed, a smile on his lips. I rushed over and snatched the baby from Olivia’s arms. The baby was startled awake and cried loudly. Olivia hastily covered her chest, her eyes instantly red. “Audrey, what are you doing?!” Alistair stood up, his face darkening. “Uncle Julian is here to bring the baby a welcoming gift. I’m taking him now.” I hugged the baby tightly, my voice as cold as ice. Alistair frowned. “Why are you in such a hurry? Olivia’s breasts are engorged and uncomfortable. What’s wrong with letting the baby help her?” I ignored him and turned to leave. The next second, Olivia grabbed the baby’s tiny arm. The baby cried as if his heart would break. I pushed her away. “You’re pinching him?” Olivia recoiled her hand, tears instantly flowing. “I didn’t… I just wanted to help him steady himself…” The male nurse couldn’t stand it anymore and rushed forward to shield me. “Miss, the baby is still so young, you can’t do this—” Before he could finish, two bodyguards burst through the door, pinning the male nurse to the ground, one on each side. Alistair Walker looked down at him, a cold sneer on his face. “You’re just a nurse, daring to interfere with the master?” With that, several slaps rained down, one, two, three. The male nurse’s face quickly swelled, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth. “Let him go!” I tried to pull the bodyguard away, but another held my shoulder, unable to move. “Send him to the police station,” Alistair said lightly. “Bold to harm my child.” He took the baby from my arms. The baby was still crying, the red marks on his arm alarming. Alistair looked down, then suddenly froze. He turned the baby over, pushed aside his tiny clothes, exposing his shoulder. No birthmark. “Where’s the birthmark? Where’s the birthmark on the child’s shoulder?” The baby’s ear-splitting cries felt like daggers in my heart. I lunged to snatch him back, but Alistair kicked me in the lower abdomen. My freshly stitched wound immediately burst open, excruciating pain shooting through my entire body. I curled up on the ground, unable to even cry out. Alistair held the baby, looking down at me, his face ashen. “Audrey Hayes, have you been seeing someone else? Whose bastard child is this?” Sweat poured from my forehead from the pain. I gritted my teeth, refusing to speak. My silence infuriated him. He sneered, his gaze turning to the male nurse, who had fainted on the floor. “Not talking, huh? Then it must be an affair between you and this nurse.” He handed the baby to Olivia Thorne, motioning to a bodyguard. “Disable his lower half for the rest of his life.” “You wouldn’t dare!” I struggled to get up, but another bodyguard pinned me down. Fists and feet rained down on the male nurse, specifically targeting his groin. He was already unconscious, but his body still convulsed reflexively, blood pooling from his mouth. “Stop! You’re breaking the law!” I shrieked, my voice completely distorted. Alistair smoothed his sleeves, his tone sarcastic. “You cheated in our marriage, gave birth to a bastard with a strange man, and dare to talk to me about breaking the law? Do you believe I’ll make you leave with nothing, not a single penny?” Olivia held the baby, crying as if her heart would break. “Sister, please give the baby back to me, okay? We won’t pursue this, as long as the baby is safe…” I clenched my jaw, refusing to give in. Soon, hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. My mother arrived first. Seeing the mess on the floor, her face instantly went white. “Audrey! What’s going on?!” She rushed over and hugged me, her voice trembling. Alistair gestured to a bodyguard, who kicked my mother’s knee, making her buckle. My mother, caught off guard, fell to her knees. “Alistair Walker! What are you doing?!” my mother shrieked. Alistair’s eyes were icy. “Audrey, I’ll ask you only one thing: where is the child? If you don’t tell me, your mother is next.” My mother’s eyes widened, her whole body trembling. “Are you insane? Try laying a finger on me! My brother, Julian Thorne…” Before she could finish, a bodyguard slapped her across the face. Several bodyguards began to hit my mother from both sides. Blood streamed down my mother’s chin, her hair disheveled, half her face swollen beyond recognition. But she gritted her teeth, not uttering a sound. She was a martyr’s widow. When my father died, she raised me alone, never bowing her head to anyone. But now, she was on her knees, being slapped like an animal. I charged forward like a madwoman, but two bodyguards held my arms, immobilizing me. “Alistair Walker! You’re crazy! She’s my mother! A martyr’s widow! I’ll see you rot in jail!” Alistair sneered. “A widow whose husband died, what trouble can she cause? If reporters come, I’ll just say your mother couldn’t stand the loneliness and found lovers for herself and for you. What’s wrong with me, Alistair Walker, cleaning up my household?” He walked to me, gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Where is the child? Where have you hidden him?” I looked at his hypocritical face, and suddenly, I laughed. “You yourselves killed that child, and now you ask me where he is?” Alistair’s hand froze. Olivia’s crying stopped too. “What did you say?” Alistair’s voice changed. Olivia’s face drained of all color in an instant. She looked down at the baby in her arms, her lips trembling violently. She shrieked, her voice sharp enough to pierce eardrums, “You’re lying! That’s impossible!” “No… impossible…” Alistair’s voice began to tremble. His legs weakened, and he took a step back, bumping into the bedside table. Olivia had completely broken down, cradling the baby and sobbing hysterically. “My child! Give me back my child!” Looking at the two of them, I felt not a shred of satisfaction. Only a coldness seeping from my very bones. Alistair suddenly looked up, his eyes bloodshot, like a cornered beast. “Where did you hide my son?! Tell me!” He rushed forward and grabbed my neck, his fingers tightening. I couldn’t breathe, and my vision blurred. “Not talking? Fine.” He suddenly let go, turning to the bodyguards. “Drag her to the operating room. Take out her uterus. Let her never be a mother again.” My mother shrieked, “You wouldn’t dare! Julian Thorne won’t let you get away with this!” Alistair acted as if he hadn’t heard, waving his hand. The bodyguards dragged me out. I struggled, my hospital gown ripped, exposing my shoulder. People in the corridor glanced over, but no one dared to step forward. The operating room door was pushed open, and cold air rushed out. I was pressed onto the operating table, my hands and feet bound, my clothes stripped away. The smell of disinfectant made me want to vomit. “Begin,” Alistair commanded the doctor, his face cold. Just as the surgical knife was about to descend, the door was kicked open from the outside. “I’d like to see who dares lay a hand on her!!”

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1 My husband and I were in an arranged marriage. In a union built on mutual benefit, he still treated me like a princess. Until the company charity run, when his female assistant twisted her ankle. She didn’t want to drop out, crying that she absolutely had to get a finisher’s medal. My husband, without a second thought, carried her on his back for the final mile. When he crossed the finish line, he was gasping for air, but still smiling, saying, “I’m not tired.” I said nothing. That night, I had the driver take the car to the winding mountain road. I threw the spare tire from the trunk at him. “Carry this.” “You said you weren’t tired, keep going.” A man who overstepped. If he could be managed, I’d keep him. Otherwise, he could go back to where he came from. “Ah~” A scream echoed as Olivia Thorne fell on the track. Her knees were scraped raw, her ankle twisted. The medical team was just about to enter the field when Adam Lagerfelt, who was about to cross the finish line, immediately turned back and rushed to Olivia’s side. I frowned and cleared my throat. Adam, however, acted as if he hadn’t heard anything. “Olivia, are you alright?” He rubbed Olivia’s ankle, his eyes overflowing with concern. The distance between them was as close as a painful thorn. My vice president cautiously asked, “Ms. Hayes, should I have someone take Olivia off the field first?” I waved my hand. For three years of marriage, Adam had always been well-behaved, maintaining a strict boundary with other women. This was the first time he had shown such tenderness towards another woman in front of me. I wanted to see if he dared to cross the line. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lagerfelt.” “I can push through, I really want to finish and get a medal.” “I… I can’t let you down.” Olivia’s eyes welled up. She shakily stood up, took one step, and fell again. “Darling, if Olivia withdraws, can she still get a medal? She’s young and has a strong sense of pride.” Adam asked me in a pleading tone. I looked at him with disappointment and shook my head. “Mr. Lagerfelt, don’t make Ms. Hayes uncomfortable.” “I’m your subordinate, I won’t let you down!” Olivia struggled to get up, limping into the track. Then, losing her balance, she fell into Adam’s arms. “Olivia, I’ll help you achieve your wish!” In front of everyone, Adam knelt down, letting Olivia climb onto his back. He carried Olivia, straining, as he sprinted towards the finish line. The previously lively track instantly fell silent. Only Olivia’s delicate cheering could be heard. All the executives exchanged bewildered glances. I said nothing. The moment Adam carried Olivia across the finish line, Olivia cried with excitement. They hugged each other, thrilled. Adam’s face was pale, breathing heavily. Still smiling, saying, “Not tired.” Olivia got her medal. Adam looked like a hero. I led the applause, a cold sneer playing on my lips. Adam stopped all movement, nervously looking at me. “Darling, let me explain.” I wasn’t interested in listening. I turned and walked away. That night, Adam squeezed into my Rolls-Royce. “Darling, let me explain.” Still the same words. I ignored him, letting the driver take the car to the foot of Serpent’s Peak. Adam looked surprised. “Darling, what are we doing here so late? Taking a stroll?” The driver took a spare tire from the trunk and threw it in front of him. I pointed at the spare tire, then at the mountain peak. “Carry it to the top of the mountain, then run back down.” “A hundred pounds, the same weight as her.” “You said you weren’t tired, keep going.” Adam’s face went white. He tried to force a smile. “Darling, don’t be jealous.” “Olivia and I truly have nothing going on.” “If you don’t like it, I’ll throw away her medal when I get back.” He tried to hug me, but I pushed him away. “Adam Lagerfelt, know your place.” “Maintaining boundaries with other women, that’s my bottom line.” “Now, do exactly as I say, immediately.” “This is a lesson for you. If you can’t complete it, then it’s time for a replacement.” I got into the car and closed the door. Outside the window, Adam’s body was trembling. A drone followed behind him. The countdown began. Twelve miles of mountain road, two hours. Adam brought this upon himself. He quickly hoisted the tire onto his back and began running up the winding mountain road. The drone chased him, filming his every move. I sat in the car, monitoring his pathetic struggle. When Adam’s legs cramped and his knees were scraped raw, I reminded him he’d only gone one mile. When he ran and vomited, scrambling and tumbling after the tire, I didn’t even glance at him. It wasn’t until Adam collapsed halfway up the mountain, incontinent and convulsing, that I coldly uttered, “Send him to the emergency room.” When Adam woke up, he immediately deleted Olivia’s contact information in front of me. He proactively had her transferred to a different department and deliberately kept his distance from her. Compared to before, he was even more gentle and considerate towards me. I thought he had truly reformed, truly understood. Until I received a smoke alarm alert from the Southwood Manor. The moment I opened the security footage, a chill ran through me. 2 My newly purchased manor was packed with dozens of people. They were throwing a wild party, trampling on my custom-made Italian sofa with their shoes, dancing. Bottles of rare Lafite from my cellar were opened and guzzled! The ornamental fish, worth thousands each, were fished out of the tank and grilled! The barbecue smoke had triggered the alarm! A suffocating feeling tightened in my chest. Among the crowd, I spotted a familiar face—Olivia Thorne! She was wearing my brand-new Hermès haute couture. It had arrived last week; she’d found it in the closet, and I hadn’t even worn it once. I dialed Adam, attaching a screenshot of the security footage. “Explain this to me. What exactly is going on?” “Don’t tell me you don’t know.” Adam was silent on the other end of the line. After a long pause, he quietly said, “Olivia’s graduation party, they had nowhere else to go.” “I thought since you leave the house empty, you don’t live there, so I lent it to Olivia.” “Please don’t make things difficult for her.” I laughed, a bitter, exasperated sound. I retorted, “Adam Lagerfelt, that’s my house. What right do you have to lend it out?” “Get them out of there immediately.” “Furthermore, all damages will be compensated at full value.” Adam immediately became anxious. “Darling, Olivia is still a child, you don’t need to be so hard on her.” “Besides, this small amount of money is nothing to you.” “They’ll go home once they’re tired of playing…” I didn’t have the patience to hear him out. I hung up directly. No need to be so hard on her? Nothing to me? Oh, great, very generous of him. But Adam forgot, though outwardly we were in an arranged marriage. His family, the Lagerfelts, were merely a minor clan in the capital. Our so-called marriage was, in fact, him marrying into my family, a social climb. Without the support of my family, the Hayes, his family would have been swallowed whole long ago! He, Adam Lagerfelt, was merely a househusband, nothing more. And he wanted to act like the master? I immediately called my assistant, gathered my bodyguards, and headed straight to the Southwood Manor. As they were partying hardest, my Rolls-Royce pulled up to the entrance. I immediately cornered Olivia, who was trying to hide in the crowd. I ripped off the Chanel dress she was wearing. Shredding it in front of everyone, I flung the pieces at her face. Anything she touched, I considered defiled. “Olivia Thorne, is this your home?” “Ms. Hayes, I… I…” She lowered her head, squeezing out a few tears. Looking utterly pitiful. As if she had done nothing wrong, and I was bullying her. The crowd of students behind her exchanged glances. “Olivia, didn’t you say the manor was yours?” “So you were lying.” “How vain and shameless.” They tried to leave, but my bodyguards blocked the doorway. Half an hour later, my secretary tallied the damages. A total of fifteen million, three hundred twenty thousand dollars! I flung the bill in front of Olivia. “Pay up.” The students quickly backed away. “Olivia, this has nothing to do with us!” “Exactly, if I’d known it wasn’t your place, I wouldn’t have come!” “You better pay the lady, don’t drag us down.” Everyone was desperately trying to distance themselves from Olivia. Olivia’s tears splattered on the floor. She cried, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hayes, I didn’t mean to.” “I don’t have money, I can’t pay.” Tears were her best weapon. Especially against Adam. But with me, they were useless. “No money? No money, then go to jail.” I was about to call the police. Olivia dropped to her knees. “Olivia!” Adam burst into the manor. 3 “Olivia is still a child, she really didn’t mean to.” “This is all my fault.” “Darling, let’s just drop it.” “Besides, this amount of money is nothing.” Adam tenderly wiped Olivia’s tears. He then tried to touch me with those hands that had touched Olivia, but I evaded him. “Drop it? You’re remarkably broad-minded.” “Then you can pay for her.” I took the POS machine from my secretary and handed it to Adam. He immediately fell silent. I pointed at Olivia. “Bank card.” She didn’t move. “Bank card. Don’t make me repeat myself a third time.” Adam tried to intervene again, but meeting my gaze, he dared not speak. Olivia took out her bank card. She entered the PIN on the POS machine. Exactly twenty thousand dollars, no more, no less. I had my secretary write an IOU and threw it to Olivia. “Your outstanding debt is fifteen million, three hundred thousand dollars.” “Pay it back within five years. Don’t forget.” At this, I glanced at Adam. His face was grim. “You are an adult, not some child.” “When you make a mistake, you pay the price.” “No one is exempt.” I emphasized the last sentence. Adam lowered his head. That evening, Adam proactively prepared dinner. There was my favorite boiled shrimp. He personally peeled the shrimp and placed it in front of me. Yet, he remained silent throughout. It was almost as if he was sulking. I looked into his eyes, neither touching nor eating the food. I knew what he wanted. There were certain boundaries I needed to make clear to him. “Adam Lagerfelt, I despise men who lack boundaries.” “If there’s a next time, you know what I’m capable of.” Adam bit his lip. He seemed somewhat troubled. After a long silence, he forced out a stiff smile. He gave a stiff nod. It didn’t matter. I no longer held any expectations for him anyway. As long as he could honestly remain a househusband. Stop crossing the line, stop disgusting me. I wouldn’t touch him. But if… A sharp ringtone interrupted my thoughts. Adam picked up his phone, cautiously glancing at me. He hung up the call. After that, his phone rang incessantly. “Olivia Thorne?” “Yes.” “Answer it. Don’t forget what I said.” I took a sip of red wine, looking at him. Adam put the call on speaker. Olivia’s sobs came through the speaker. “Mr. Lagerfelt, I’ve been expelled from school.” “My parents are ashamed of me, they don’t want me either.” Adam’s face changed dramatically. He quickly grabbed his phone, cradling it in his palm. His face was filled with tension, full of anxiety. “Olivia, where are you? Don’t you dare do anything rash!” I sighed. Looked at him with disappointment. Shook my head with disappointment. “Mr. Lagerfelt, please tell Ms. Hayes I can’t pay her back. I’m sorry.” “Mr. Lagerfelt, I want to call you Mr. Lagerfelt one last time.” “It was my honor to meet you. Goodbye, my Mr. Lagerfelt.” 4 Olivia hung up the phone. Adam tried calling back repeatedly, but couldn’t get through. “Olivia? Olivia! Don’t you dare do anything foolish!” “Wait for me! Wait for me!” He grabbed his jacket, about to rush out. I asked him, “Are you sure you want to go?” Adam glared fiercely at me. He grabbed the plate of peeled shrimp and smashed it to smithereens. “Kelly Hayes, are you even human?!” “If you hadn’t pushed Olivia, would she be feeling so desperate?!” He overturned the table, destroying the entire dinner. He rushed out, without a second thought. I watched it all, coldly. Didn’t say another word. He wasted his last chance. Exhausted all my patience. And strangled the last possibility of this marriage. My lawyer immediately drafted divorce papers. I sent them to Adam at once. What I received in return was a barrage of angry voice messages. “What the hell is going on, and you’re still getting jealous?!” “If anything happens to Olivia, I’m not done with you!” Because of Olivia’s one desperate message. Adam’s thorns were completely exposed. Not long after, my secretary sent me a screenshot from a social media post. Olivia’s. The accompanying picture was a hotel room, with Adam’s back in a bathrobe. [“Thank you, Mr. President, for filling my desperate life with starlight.”] Then came my secretary’s call. Her voice was trembling. “Ms. Hayes, Mr. Lagerfelt is planning to collude with other shareholders to remove you…” I took a deep breath. Good, very good. Adam Lagerfelt, you’re quite something. Soon you’ll find out the consequences. The next day’s shareholder meeting was chaired by Adam. Olivia attended. All shareholders were present, except for me. No one had informed me. Adam raised the microphone. “Alright, I announce that all resolutions of this shareholder meeting are passed.” “Ms. Olivia Thorne is appointed Vice President of the Group, with an annual salary of fifteen million, three hundred thousand dollars.” “Kelly Hayes is hereby removed from all positions within the Group, effective immediately!” The applause in the conference room almost blew the roof off. Just as Adam was handing Olivia her appointment letter. I kicked open the conference room door.

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1 It was my first month standing in for my sister at university when a strange man burst into the classroom, cradling a baby. Under the gaze of the entire class, he thrust the wailing infant into my arms. “This is your child, and you will take responsibility!” I was utterly bewildered. When had my sister even gotten a boyfriend? He spoke with an air of absolute entitlement, giving me his demands. “Seraphina Amick, if you don’t want me to make a huge scene, you’ll agree to three conditions.” “One, pay twenty thousand a month in child support until the child turns eighteen. Two, immediately transfer two villas to the child, fulfilling your duty as a mother. Three, if you don’t want to marry me, you’ll provide the dowry for my next wife, to give the child a complete family.” The whole class erupted in gasps, and I, looking down at the tiny infant in my arms, grew even more confused. My sister’s child? But she had a congenital heart condition and was currently hospitalized, unable to conceive. So, did he mean I was the mother of the child he spoke of? But I was a man, for crying out loud! The man continued to rant, accusing me as if I truly were an irresponsible mother. Faced with such baseless accusations, I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, raising my voice to challenge him. “You say this is my child, but where’s the proof?” “Are you just going to slander someone’s reputation with empty words? Who knows where you picked up this child!” The man, instead of flinching at my challenge, smirked, as if he’d anticipated this very response. He slowly pulled out a neatly folded paper from his pocket, unfolding it before me for everyone to see. “I knew you’d try to deny it, so open your eyes and see! This paternity test report, in black and white, clearly states that you, Seraphina Amick, are the biological mother of this child!” “The date? Just yesterday afternoon, fresh off the press!” He waved the report, his voice rising a few decibels. “I prepared for this. I specifically asked your roommate to get some of your hair and personally took it for the test.” “Now, with witnesses and evidence, you must take responsibility for this child!” My roommate? A flash of memory crossed my mind: a few days ago, Tinsley Evans had been unusually eager to get close to me. She’d either claimed I had leaves in my hair or offered to braid it. At the time, I’d tried to keep my distance due to the gender difference. Now it seemed she was after my hair for evidence. But the crucial point was, I was wearing a wig to impersonate my sister! How could a paternity test done with a wig show a blood relation? Did they think I was an idiot? I looked at the supposed ironclad evidence in his hand, a cold sneer twisting my lips, my eyes filled with scorn. “Paternity test? I have a blood relation with this child?” “Let me tell you, your so-called paternity test is completely fake!” The man’s face changed. “Fake? How can you say it’s fake? It has the hospital’s official stamp! You just don’t want to acknowledge this child!” I met his gaze head-on, unyielding, and challenged him. “You’re trying to frame me with some hair from who-knows-where and a flimsy piece of paper?” “If you truly believe this child is mine, then come with me to a reputable hospital right now and get another paternity test. Do you dare?” The man’s eyes flickered, clearly losing some of his confidence, but he still stubbornly retorted, “Your family, the Amicks, are powerful and wealthy. Who knows if you’ve bribed the hospital? Getting a fake test report is just a word for you!” Then, he changed tack, attempting to play on the emotions of the onlookers, his voice choked with feigned emotion. “I know, when you dated me, you just wanted to have some fun. You always looked down on me, thinking I was just a poor kid, not worthy of you, the Amick heiress.” “But you shouldn’t have secretly given birth to a child and then abandoned him in a rented apartment! This is our flesh and blood, after all!” “I didn’t ask for any title, I just want a good life for the child. These conditions I’m asking for, aren’t they just a flick of your wrist? Why are you so cruel to your own child!” This tearful accusation indeed made some uninformed students begin to whisper, their gazes at me now laced with suspicion. However, I wasn’t falling for any of it. I hadn’t done it, and I wouldn’t let my sister carry this burden. “What’s the point of all this nonsense?” “I will never admit to something I haven’t done. If you’re afraid of me tampering with things, then let’s just call the police. Let them designate an institution for the paternity test, with continuous video surveillance. Surely, that’s acceptable?” “Th-this…” The man was immediately speechless, his face flushing crimson, stammering, unable to form words. Just then, the baby in my arms started crying louder, its little face turning red from straining. Tinsley, watching from the side, suddenly rushed forward, snatched the baby, hugging it tightly, and shrieked at me. “Enough, Seraphina Amick, stop making excuses!” “Do you think we can’t see through you? You just want to kill this child!” 2 Tinsley pointed at me, her voice sharp and piercing. “Seraphina Amick, you’re still putting on an act! You were pregnant and still going out drinking and clubbing every day; I told you so many times, but you wouldn’t listen.” “Now look, the child is born prematurely, sickly, and weak, but you don’t care at all. You’re denying everything, trying to drag him all over the place.” “Isn’t it because you see the child is in poor health and you want to literally drag him to his death, just to completely get rid of this burden? How can your heart be so cruel!” The man, seeing Tinsley step up as a witness, instantly found his backbone, straightening his posture, and immediately chimed in. “Tinsley’s right, Seraphina Amick, if you have nothing to hide, do you dare tell everyone why you suddenly took a month off from school? Wasn’t it to secretly give birth to my child?” “After you returned to school, you immediately applied to live off-campus, wasn’t it because you were recovering from childbirth?” Perhaps genuinely believing I had been up to something unsavory during that period, something I couldn’t disclose, the man became more self-assured, his expression triumphant. “When you were recovering, wasn’t I bringing you chicken soup every day and looking after you? But what did you do? As soon as you felt a little better, you turned on me, kicking us, father and son, out of the house! You venomous woman!” His elaborate accusations, coupled with Tinsley’s backing, instantly made the situation even more chaotic. Hearing them, my other two roommates also looked enlightened. “Yeah, Seraphina, why did you suddenly take a month off before? When we asked, you just said you weren’t feeling well. What kind of illness requires such a long hospital stay?” “And as soon as you came back, you were eager to move out of the dorm, saying you couldn’t get used to sleeping there. But we’ve all lived together for over a year, why suddenly so uncomfortable? Is it… really something you don’t want us to know?” another roommate hesitantly added. “You rarely wore makeup before, but after your leave of absence, you’ve been wearing it almost every day. Is it to cover up your complexion?” Hearing these doubts, prompted and amplified by my roommates, the man felt even more confident, as if victory was already in his grasp. And I, listening to their deductions, was almost laughing from sheer frustration! Seraphina Amick’s month off was because her condition had suddenly worsened, requiring heart surgery. But she didn’t want to make a fuss, only hoping that I, her twin brother, could complete her studies for her. And the reason I immediately moved out of the dorm and became a day student after returning to school was because I was a man, for crying out loud! No matter how much I wanted to help my sister, there was no way I could actually live with a bunch of girls! Could I state that reason openly? As for wearing makeup every day, it was simply because there were still differences in our facial features that needed to be concealed. But all these coincidences, by some bizarre twist of fate, had now become evidence that I had taken time off to have a baby. I looked at the farce unfolding before me and the suspicious glances of my classmates, a wave of absurdity washing over me. What in the world was going on! I rubbed my temples, interrupting them. “I took time off to have a baby, and lived off-campus to recover from childbirth? Are all those people who take time off from school just going off to have babies?” “Tinsley, didn’t you also take time off for a while? And now you’re so concerned about this child, I might as well think you’re the biological mother!” “You want to accuse me with such flimsy evidence? If you can’t explain yourselves, then let’s call the police. Let them see if I’m truly innocent!” Tinsley’s face turned ashen at my words, and she shrieked, stopping me from reaching for my phone. “I was trying to be kind, Seraphina Amick, do you really think there’s no other evidence?” 3 Tinsley said, giving the man a meaningful look. The man instantly understood, a cruel smile spreading across his face as he pulled a stack of photos from his pocket and slapped them onto the lecture desk with a loud thwack. “Seraphina Amick, Tinsley, in her kindness, advised me to save you some face and not bring out these photos. But you’ve pushed it too far, you don’t appreciate consideration!” “Today, I will let everyone see your true face, let everyone know what a promiscuous woman you, the Amick family heiress, are in private!” The photos scattered across the desk were utterly indecent, all intimate pictures of me and this man in various settings, with some even being extremely explicit bedroom photos! The entire class instantly erupted into chaos. Many students’ eyes now held undisguised contempt for me. Even a few boys in the back row let out malicious snickers, openly commenting on my body in the photos. “Didn’t realize the Amick heiress had such a good figure.” “If I’d known it was this easy, I would’ve tried my luck too. Maybe if I satisfied her, I could’ve become a son-in-law of the Amicks.” I stared fixedly at those photos, my anger surging, almost breaking through my composure. They were using such vile tactics to tarnish my sister’s reputation. But at the same time, a wave of relief washed over me. Thankfully, it was me standing here enduring all this, not the real Seraphina Amick. Otherwise, just seeing these fabricated, obscene photos would likely have been enough to trigger a heart attack! I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice calm. “With today’s advanced photo editing, anyone can just find a few pictures, composite them, and pretend they’re evidence of me dating you. You don’t seriously think such a trick can fool everyone, do you?” The man let out a lewd laugh, as if he’d heard the funniest joke, his eyes maliciously tracing over my body. “You can say the photos are doctored, but you can’t fake the birthmark on your lower back, can you? And there’s a small mole hidden behind your ear. If I hadn’t slept with you, how would I know your body so intimately?” Hearing his words, I actually felt a wave of relief. The birthmark and mole he mentioned did exist, but they were features I, Sterling Amick, possessed. Seraphina Amick had none of those! It seemed this clumsy plot was cooked up after I started impersonating my sister at school. A cold laugh formed in my mind. Someone who knew my body so intimately could only be someone I shared a dorm with, someone who had the opportunity for close observation. My gaze swept across my three roommates. Only Tinsley’s lips held an ill-concealed, triumphant smile. It seemed she and this man had conspired together. With that thought, I looked at them, a smile that wasn’t a smile on my face, and asked directly, “After all this circling, what do you want?” The man was about to speak, but Tinsley interjected, putting on an act of concern for me. “Seraphina, it’s good you can admit it. Who doesn’t make mistakes when they’re young?” “But I see you really don’t want to acknowledge this child. Why don’t you let his father take him back? You just need to pay for the child’s living expenses for these eighteen years upfront, a total of one million dollars. Think of it as buying peace of mind, and fulfilling your bond with your child. How does that sound?” One million dollars? I almost applauded her. What a brazen demand. A thought flashed through my mind, and a smile spread across my face as I readily nodded. “Alright, I’ll pay.” 4 Seeing the money transferred, the man and Tinsley’s eyes immediately lit up with uncontrollable delight. Their goal achieved, they had no desire to talk to me further, and the two of them, holding the baby, made to leave. But I stepped forward, blocking the classroom door. “What, you’ve got the money and now you want to leave? Not going to let me spend a little more time with the child? He is my flesh and blood, after all.” As I spoke, I made a move to touch the baby in Tinsley’s arms. Tinsley’s face instantly changed, like a hen protecting its chick. She fiercely shielded the baby, avoiding my hand, her eyes wary. “What do you want? The child support has been paid, he has nothing to do with you anymore! Don’t you dare touch him!” Just as we were pulling and pushing, the classroom door was abruptly thrown open. The academic advisor stood in the doorway, his face filled with anger. “What’s going on here! How long has class been? The teacher has been waiting for you all for half the period, and not a single one of you is in there! What are you all blocking the doorway for?” Seeing the advisor, several students who loved drama immediately swarmed him, loudly tattling. “It’s Seraphina Amick, she took a month off from school to secretly have a baby, and now the child’s father has come to claim child support!” “Sir, Seraphina Amick’s private life is so messy, with such character, how can she be eligible for awards and honors, or to be a student leader? I suggest revoking her qualifications and giving her a disciplinary warning!” “Exactly! Must be disciplined! It’s bringing shame to our school!” Everyone was indignant, as if I had committed some heinous crime. However, listening to their words, the advisor’s face grew increasingly grim. Instead of lecturing me as the students expected, he abruptly pushed away the students crowding him and sternly barked, “What nonsense are you all spewing? What ‘having a baby’? What do you know to be making such a fuss?” The advisor strode over to the man and questioned him. “Who are you, and how did you get into our school?” “Harassing and slandering our student here, and extorting money—do you know that’s illegal behavior?!” Seeing the advisor so protective of me, Tinsley immediately panicked, her face etched with unwillingness. “Advisor, she herself admitted it, you can’t just favor her because the Amick family is rich and powerful!” The advisor immediately glared at her, his tone severe. “Tinsley Evans! This has nothing to do with you! Did you personally witness Seraphina having a child?!” Tinsley choked for a moment, but then defiantly stuck out her neck and shouted, “Of course I can testify! She used to stay out all night, and I even saw her and Vance getting cozy!” The advisor seemed to understand something, ignoring Tinsley, and stared directly at Vance Miller. “Mr. Miller, isn’t it? Now, immediately clarify the facts and apologize to Ms. Amick, otherwise, I will call the police!” Vance was so startled by the advisor’s threat that cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He instinctively looked at Tinsley. Tinsley, seeing his hesitation, yelled at the advisor without thinking. “Why are you so biased towards her, just because her family is rich? I won’t let the truth be covered up by power! She is…” “Enough! Truth, my foot!” The advisor finally lost his temper, cutting Tinsley off with a furious roar. “Are you all brain-dead? Do you believe whatever he says?” “The Seraphina Amick standing in front of you is a man! Tell me, how can he, a man, give birth to a child?!”

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1 “So white, the clothes. So much whiter, the person.” “Next time, don’t even bother with underwear. Makes things easier for laundry.” I stared at my wife’s WhatsApp, unable to process the words. The contact name seared my eyes: “Julian Hillner.” Her ex-husband. I slammed my phone down. My wife, Kathy, flinched, startled. “Darling, let me explain, his hand is hurt, and there’s no one to look after him…” I pointed a finger at her. “His hand is hurt?” “For three years of our marriage, you wouldn’t even press a button on the washing machine, claiming it would chip your manicure.” “And now you’re at your ex’s place, hand-washing clothes? For a whole night?” “Darling, why are you so mad?” She bent to pick up her bag, her eyes darting to the coffee table. I took two swift steps, planting my foot firmly on the bag. “Don’t touch it.” “Darling…” “What happened to Julian’s hand?” Kathy’s face went instantly pale. She instinctively clutched her throat, her gaze flickering nervously. “He… he fractured his hand.” “A comminuted fracture, no one to care for him, couldn’t even pull up his pants.” “I just felt sorry for him, so I went to help out.” “Help out?” My lips twisted into a sneer. I bent down and picked up the bag. A Gucci overnight bag, bulging. “Need this thing to ‘help out’?” “Give it to me!” Kathy shrieked, lunging to grab it. I sidestepped her, gripped the zipper, and yanked it open. Whoosh. A pile of items tumbled onto the coffee table. A black lace lingerie set. Half a bottle of lube. And a pair of freshly discarded nude stockings. The air solidified instantly. I recognized that lingerie set. For our anniversary, I’d begged her for half a month, just to see her wear it once. She’d claimed the fabric was scratchy, that she was allergic, refused to wear it for anything. Now, that “scratchy” lingerie lay before me. It reeked of cheap cologne mixed with disinfectant. Pungent. Disgusting. I snatched the lace and flung it at her face. “This is your ‘help’?” “Going to your ex’s place to wash clothes, and bringing your own lube?” “Were you washing clothes, or acting as an automated ‘wash-and-wear’ service?” Kathy tore off the lingerie, tears instantly gushing. “Leo! Don’t talk like that!” “He’s sick! He can’t move!” “I wore this because… because…” “Because what?” I took a step closer, staring at her neck. A patch of concealer had rubbed off. Revealing a dark red mark. A hickey. “Because this thing cures broken bones?” I reached out to wipe at the concealer. Kathy slapped my hand away, then collapsed onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. “You’re just petty! You have no sympathy!” “We’re divorced, what else could there be?” “If I wanted something with him, why would I have married you in the first place?” “He’s lying there, can’t move, and you’re still slandering me!” Can’t move? I sneered, casting my phone screen to the 65-inch TV. A screenshot of game stats appeared. ID: “The Swift Serpent.” That was Julian’s gaming account. I’d been sleepless last night, using a secondary account to monitor his profile. The stats showed: 2 AM last night, ranked match MVP. Hero used: “The Blademaster.” Fastest hands on the field, most dazzling plays. “This is your ‘comminuted fracture’?” I pointed at the “Penta Kill” icon on the screen. “At 2 AM, he was slaughtering the competition.” “And you were ‘washing clothes’ in his bed.” “Kathy, do you think I’m blind, or just plain stupid?” Kathy looked up at the screen, her lips trembling. “Th-this… this was a booster playing for him!” “Yes! A booster!” “Leo, why do you have to be so dark?” “I’ve been frugal for this family, and you’re here investigating my ex?” Frugal? I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. 2 I tapped open her shopping history on the Aethelred Market app. Australian Wagyu A9, two hundred dollars a pound. Deep-sea wild sea cucumber, five hundred dollars a box. Boston lobster, extra-large. The delivery address was always the same: Apartment 402, Building 3, Serenity Lane. That was Julian’s rented place. And what had I eaten last night? Instant noodles, without even an egg. In three years of marriage, she had never once cooked. Claiming cooking fumes ruined her skin, and dish soap hurt her hands. I washed all the dishes, mopped all the floors. All to protect those manicures of hers, which cost eighty dollars a pop. I grabbed her hand. The long, rhinestone-studded nails were now clipped short and bare. There was still unwashed grease on her fingertips. “You clipped your nails to cook for him?” “You don’t mind roughing up your hands to wash his underwear?” “Kathy, you truly are a wonderful wife.” I flung her hand away. Kathy stumbled, hitting the sofa leg. She dropped the act entirely, scrambling up from the floor, yelling defiantly. “Yes! I did go to take care of him! So what?” “A bond forged in marriage lasts a lifetime!” “He’s in trouble, how could I just stand by and watch him suffer?” “You make tens of thousands a month, what’s wrong with sharing a bit to help him out?” “Leo, you need to be more generous!” “What kind of man nitpicks over such trivial things?” Generous. Help him out. I looked at the woman before me. For three years, I’d thought she was delicate, a little princess who needed pampering. Turns out, she wasn’t incapable of doing things. She just reserved her efforts for other men. My stomach churned, a wave of pure, visceral disgust. “Get out.” I pointed at the door. “Take your lube, and get out.” Kathy froze. Before, if she cried, I’d immediately comfort her. Even when she gave my limited-edition collectibles to a relative’s child, I never spoke harshly. But today, the icy chill in my eyes frightened her. “Leo, you dare kick me out?” “Don’t you dare regret this!” “I’m leaving right now! I’m going to Elara’s place!” She grabbed her bag from the floor, shoving the lingerie in haphazardly. Then slammed the door behind her. Elara’s place? I walked to the balcony, watching her red BMW X3 drive out of the complex. The direction was clearly not towards her friend’s house. It was heading straight for Serenity Lane. Julian’s place. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it. My hand was shaking. Not from sadness, but from fury. And the humiliation of being played for a fool for three years. I turned and walked into the bedroom. Locked the door. That night, I didn’t sleep. I was checking her finances. And what I found chilled me to the bone. The next morning. The living room was eerily silent. I stared at the bank statements on my phone, my eyes bloodshot. Kathy hadn’t come home last night. I hadn’t called her either. This card was the household card I’d given her, linked to my secondary account. Every month, I transferred two thousand dollars for living expenses. For three years, I had never checked the statements. Because of trust. Now, that trust had become a slap to the face. On the first of every month. There was a fixed transfer of five hundred dollars. The recipient’s note was “Belle Beauty Salon.” But I checked the verified name on the payment app. The account belonged to “Juli*.” Julian. Three years, thirty-six months. This single, fixed expense alone amounted to eighteen thousand dollars. And that was just the small stuff. Various fragmented transfers, payments, gift money. There were even several large cash withdrawals. In total, she had transferred at least forty thousand dollars over these three years. Forty thousand. I had hesitated for half a year before buying a new car. She transferred money to her ex without a second thought. 3 I stood up and walked to the walk-in closet. It was Kathy’s sanctuary, usually off-limits to me. A whole wall of glass display cabinets. Filled with various designer bags. Hermès, Chanel, Louis Vuitton. All gifts I’d bought her over the past three years for holidays and anniversaries. Each one was worth a fortune. I opened the cabinet door and picked up the Hermès Picnic Bag in the center. Elephant grey, gold hardware. I’d given it to her for our anniversary last year, costing me well over five thousand dollars. The feel was off. Too stiff. The pebbled leather texture felt fake. I turned on my phone’s flashlight, set it to macro mode. Took a picture of the embossed logo on the bag. Then searched online for genuine comparison images. No need for expert appraisal. Blatantly fake. The edges of the “H” in the font were all fuzzy. I picked up the Chanel CF next to it. The chain was light, almost faded. Fake. All fake. The three Hermès, two Chanel bags displayed in the cabinet. All high-quality replicas. Where were the real bags? I downloaded a pre-owned luxury goods trading app. Entered Kathy’s phone number to search for users. Sure enough. Account ID: “KathyLovesLife.” The homepage was filled with “sold” listings. “99% new Hermès Picnic Bag, urgent sale, with receipt.” “Chanel CF Medium, only carried once, bargain price.” All transactions took place within a month of me giving her the gifts. The total transaction amount? Another thirty thousand dollars. She sold the real bags, bought fakes to display at home to fool me. Where did the money go? Where did the money go? I clicked on a screenshot of the account’s withdrawal records (she’d posted it in the comments). The last four digits of the recipient card were 8888. That wasn’t Kathy’s card. I entered the card number into my online banking transfer interface. The system automatically displayed the recipient’s name: “Juli*.” Julian again. I threw my phone onto the bed, covering my face with both hands. A guttural roar escaped my throat. The person was his. The money was his too. What was I? A money-making machine? Or a chump helping someone else raise his wife? Just then, my phone vibrated. It was a push notification from the Highway Pass app. “Your vehicle, State Plate A*****, passed through the airport highway toll station at 08:30 AM.” That was the BMW X3 Kathy was driving. Airport highway? What was she doing at the airport? Was she trying to run away? I immediately opened the vehicle tracking app. The car wasn’t at the airport. It had stopped at a high-end private orthopedic hospital near the airport. It was the most expensive rehabilitation hospital in the city. A single night’s stay started at three hundred dollars. I remembered what Kathy had said last night. “His hand is hurt, and there’s no one to look after him.” Turns out, “no one to look after him” meant staying in a VIP suite, eating Australian Wagyu, and enjoying “special care” from his ex-wife. And all of this cost. Was coming out of my pocket. I grabbed my car keys and rushed out of the house. In the garage, there was still a six-year-old Sedan. That was my car. The BMW was hers to drive, because she said driving an old car to gatherings was embarrassing. I started the car, pedal to the metal. Just then. My phone vibrated. A credit card transaction alert. [“Your credit card ending in 8888 has been charged $5,200 at Aesthetic Beauty Clinic.”] Immediately after. Julian sent me a photo. In the photo, he lay on a wide hospital bed. His left hand was in a cast, his right hand holding up his phone for a selfie. In the background, Kathy was bending over, feeding him grapes. Her neckline was low, revealing a flash of white skin. That was my wife. The caption was just one sentence: “Nothing beats the original; some people are only good for paying.” I stared at that photo. Blood rushed backward, surging to my scalp. Fifty-two hundred. 4 Aesthetic clinic. Was she using my money to get her ex plastic surgery? Or some other unspeakable procedure? My in-laws were still chattering away. “Leo, don’t be too bothered.” “You’re a man, be more magnanimous.” “Kathy and Julian are ancient history, isn’t she doing just fine with you now?” I looked at their opening and closing mouths. Like two blood-sucking black holes. I didn’t erupt. Nor did I flip the table. I calmly pressed the screenshot button. Saved the message, saved the photo. Then slowly gathered the bank statements from the coffee table, folded them neatly, and put them in my pocket. Since you’re treating me like “family,” Then this “grand gift.” I’ll repay it with interest. I left my in-laws’ house and sat in my car, smoking three cigarettes. My phone vibrated again. It was a WhatsApp message from Kathy. “Darling, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you.” “I reflected on it all night at Elara’s place.” “That money… I lent it to a friend in urgent need, they’ll pay it back in a few days.” “Please don’t be mad, okay?” Fifty-two hundred. Friend in urgent need. She couldn’t even bother to come up with a better lie. I looked at the screen, a cold smile twisting my lips. My fingers tapped on the keyboard. “It’s fine, darling. Tell me if you need more money.” “Don’t make yourself suffer.” “I’m away on a business trip, I’ll be back in a couple of days.” After sending that message. I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat. If we’re going to act, let’s go all in. I want them to know what it’s like to invite trouble and then try to get rid of it. That afternoon. I told Kathy to stay at her parents’ or Elara’s place for a few days, not to come home yet. Kathy was more than happy to. She was currently busy acting as a full-time caregiver at the hospital, with no time to come home anyway. Seizing the opportunity. I bought a bunch of miniature pinhole cameras. Replaced the old ones with new ones that had remote cloud storage. After doing all that. I moved all my valuables—my watch, emergency cash, the house deed—to my parents’ place. Then, I set a daily limit on Kathy’s secondary card. A hundred dollars a day. Couldn’t block the card entirely, that would alert them. It had to be like boiling a frog slowly, gradually bringing the water to a boil. I opened the phone monitoring app. On the screen, the front door of our home opened. Kathy entered, helping Julian. Julian’s arm still had a cast, but his movements weren’t slow at all. He even managed to free one hand to squeeze Kathy’s butt. “So this is the house that idiot bought?” Julian looked around the living room, a look of disdain on his face. “The decor is so tacky, reeks of new money.” Kathy smiled as she helped him change shoes. She was using my slippers. “Just bear with it, he’s on a business trip anyway, so it’s ours for now.” “You can recover here for a few days, I’ll make you delicious food.” “Once you pay off those tens of thousands in gambling debts, I’ll divorce him.” “And I’ll get half of this house too.” The voice recorder faithfully captured every word. Every word was like a nail, driven into my eardrums. Julian wrapped an arm around Kathy’s waist. Pushing her onto the sofa… I turned off the screen. No need to watch anymore. The evidence was already enough to ruin their reputations. I picked up the hotel phone and dialed the bank’s customer service. “Hello, I’d like to report all my credit cards lost.” “Yes, all of them.” “Reason? They’ve been fraudulently used.” On the monitor. Julian, who was about to order takeout, suddenly cursed. “Damn it, why can’t I pay?” Kathy picked up her phone and looked. “Maybe there’s a limit, I’ll try another card.” She tried another card. “That one doesn’t work either… what’s going on?” … The show, had only just begun. I looked out at the night sky. My gaze colder than the night itself. Julian, Kathy. Since you love money so much. Then I’ll let you taste what it’s like to have none. And what it’s like to be driven mad by debt.

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1 The Cook Corporation’s illegal demolition killed my parents and turned me into a beggar on the streets. When the thugs they hired had me cornered, Jax stood in front of me. He was like a stray dog, eyes burning red with fury. “Anyone touches Ava,” he snarled, “I’ll make them regret it for the rest of their lives.” We fell in love when we had nothing. Until the day the Cook heiress sent her men for us. Jax was beaten until his head was slick with blood, but he still shielded me. He shoved me away and let them take him. Lost in the downpour, I stumbled through the alleyways and saw her car. The interior light was on, and through the rain-streaked window, I saw Jax press Seraphina Cook against the seat, his mouth crashing down on hers in a brutal, hungry kiss. In that instant, the world blurred into a wash of gray rain, and the only sound was the frantic drumming of my own heart. … “Is fucking a high-society girl that much better, Jax?” Seraphina’s breathless words, broken and panting, reached my ears. Jax was completely lost in her, his teeth gently grazing her earlobe, his eyes glazed with lust. When he didn’t answer, she grabbed his tie, flipping him onto his back and straddling him. He reached to peel off her black dress, but she stopped his hand. She looked down at him, her voice laced with a petulant complaint. “I’ve asked you so many times, Jax. When are you going to agree to be my personal bodyguard? Sneaking into the Warrens to see you was fun at first, but I’m getting tired of this whole underground affair. Besides…” She paused. “Besides, I’m sick of seeing your little beggar girlfriend.” Jax was silent for a moment, then he answered her with a kiss that was even more ferocious than the last, stripping away her clothes in the dark confines of the car. My tears mingled with the rain, my whole body shaking. I couldn’t watch anymore. I turned and ran, stumbling on the potholed ground, my knees screaming in protest each time I fell. But I scrambled back up and kept running, desperate to get away. All I wanted was to go home. My home was nothing more than a makeshift lean-to of scrap wood and tarps, but it was once a warm and happy place. It had my parents, hot meals, and a soft bed. Until the Cook Corporation tore it all down. My parents died trying to protect it, crushed under the rubble of our house. Their deaths sparked an outrage. The displaced residents protested, and the demolition was temporarily halted. We swore we would protect our land, that we wouldn’t let Cook win. But one by one, people took the money. Or they couldn’t stand the constant harassment from the company’s thugs. They left. The Warrens grew emptier, but I stayed. I was waiting to get justice for my parents. And Jax stayed with me. His parents were gambling addicts. He’d run away from home and lived on the streets. I had shared my food with him. When the thugs had me cornered, he had appeared out of nowhere to protect me. As I cleaned his wounds later, dabbing iodine on the raw gashes, I started to cry, from fear or from a pain in my own chest, I didn’t know which. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into this…” Jax pulled me into a fierce embrace. “Ava, I’m staying with you. I’m going to protect you for the rest of your life.” And for five years, he did. 2 Jax came back late that night. A fresh bandage was taped to his forehead. He saw the scrapes on my knees and knelt to apply ointment. I took a step back. “Where were you?” A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes. “They took me to see Ms. Cook,” he said carefully. “She wasn’t too hard on me. Ava… maybe she’s not as bad as you think.” I looked up at him, my heart clenching with disbelief. “Jax, you know how much I hate the Cooks.” It was a blood debt. He knew everything. And he was dismissing it with a casual, “not as bad as you think.” He reached for me. “I’m sorry, Ava. But that was our parents’ fight. Seraphina doesn’t approve of what her family did.” I pushed him away, a cold laugh escaping my lips. “You two seem to know each other pretty well.” He flinched, his eyes darting away. He didn’t answer. Instead, he started talking, as if trying to convince both me and himself. “Ava, you should talk to her. I’m sure she’d be willing to give you some compensation. I want a better life for you, for us. We can’t keep living hand-to-mouth, selling scrap metal. Do you really want to be stuck in this hellhole for the rest of your life?” I slapped him. The sound echoed in our small shelter. He turned his head slightly, his eyes downcast. I looked at him, my voice low and sharp. “This isn’t some hellhole. It’s my home. The Cook Corporation destroyed my house and killed my parents for twenty thousand dollars. I’m not leaving until I get my revenge.” Seeing the tears welling in my eyes, Jax panicked. “I’m sorry, Ava. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” Then, another lie slipped from his lips. “I found a job. A bodyguard. It’s steady work.” I gave him a faint, bitter smile. I knew it was just Seraphina’s excuse to have him at her beck and call. “Ava,” he murmured, “I’m going to make you happy.” … Jax started coming home later and later, until he wasn’t coming home at all. “The rich have a lot of parties,” he’d explain, his voice strained. “They’re always short-staffed. You have to understand, Ava.” I knew he was sleeping with her. “Your employer seems to need a lot of… company,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. At the mention of her, a light I couldn’t ignore flickered in his eyes. A small smile played on his lips. “Ava, she’s… incredible. The strongest person I’ve ever met. Besides you.” The comparison made me sick to my stomach. I didn’t confront him. I still needed his protection. Without Jax, I wouldn’t survive long enough to see justice done. But I stopped letting him touch me. And Jax, lost in his new world with Seraphina, never even noticed. 3 A few weeks later, I was alone in the alley when a group of thugs blocked my path. “Well, well, if it isn’t Ava. Where’s your little boyfriend?” I recognized them. They were the same goons the Cook Corporation had been using for years to harass the remaining residents. I backed away. “Jax is nearby. Don’t try anything.” They looked at each other and burst out laughing. They cornered me, their shadows looming. One of them grabbed my hair, his greasy fingers scraping against my cheek. “Jax? He’s too busy being the Cook heiress’s lapdog to care about a homeless mutt like you.” I sank my teeth into his wrist, hard. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. “Fucking bitch!” A fist slammed into my face, sending me sprawling into the mud. The real beating began then. They used a filthy piece of wood, a makeshift club, crashing it against my ribs again and again. My strength gave out. I lay in the grime, gasping for air. The final blow landed on my forehead. The world dissolved into a high-pitched ringing as warm blood streamed down, blinding me. When they tore at my clothes, I no longer had the energy to fight back. They took out their phones, taking turns filming me. I just stared up at the sky, a gray canvas sliced into thin strips by a web of power lines. It was the same color it had been the day they pulled my parents’ bodies from the rubble. When they were done, they spat on the ground and left, cursing. I used the grimy wall to pull myself up, bit by bit. I wasn’t sure a single bone in my body was unbroken. Every step was agony. But I couldn’t die. If I died, who would get justice for my parents? I dragged myself around the last corner, a pile of rotting garbage marking the end of the alley. I stopped, hiding myself in the shadows. A black Lincoln, sleek and utterly out of place, was parked at the mouth of the alley. And standing beside it, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, was Jax. He looked so different I barely recognized him. Seraphina was leaning against his shoulder, her fingers tracing his jawline. “You know, Jax,” she purred, “I’m just discovering you have a rather cruel streak.” He lit a cigarette, his voice nonchalant. “Ava can be stubborn. I’ve protected her for years, but she has no idea how hard life can be. A little scare while I’m gone… maybe it’s what she needs to finally agree to leave.” Huddled behind the dumpster, I heard his words, and the blood in my veins turned to ice. The man I had trusted most had just thrown me to the wolves. I bit my lip so hard I didn’t feel the pain, my nails digging into my palms. A sharp, twisting pain erupted in my abdomen, like a dull knife being turned. My vision swam, and I slid down the wall as the world spun around me. The last thing I heard before the darkness took me was Jax’s voice, laced with something that sounded like a smile. “Once she understands…” 4 I woke up in a hospital. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear hushed, frantic voices outside. It was Jax, his voice cracking with a despair he couldn’t contain. “Seraphina! I just told them to scare her! What the hell did you order them to do?!” Her reply was a light, careless laugh that drifted through the crack in the door. “Oh, Jax. Your little girlfriend doesn’t scare easily. Since you agreed to let me send my men to ‘persuade’ her, I thought we might as well be thorough. Better to rip the band-aid off, don’t you think?” Jax’s voice was shaking. “Do you have any idea she was pregnant?! The baby… we lost the baby…” A brief silence. Then, Seraphina’s laughter, even brighter this time. “Oh? Is that so? Well, then I guess I did you both a favor. Did you really think that child would have had a happy life, Jax? Raised by a couple of beggars squatting in a garbage heap?” The sharp crack of a slap echoed in the hallway. A moment of stunned silence, then Seraphina’s voice, laced with venom. “You ever lay a hand on me again, Jax, and I swear to god… Your future, your ticket out of that shithole you came from, it’s all tied to me. Who do you think you are without me? Just another stray dog from the Warrens, fighting over scraps.” Lying in the hospital bed, I felt a wave of nausea. A child? I subconsciously touched my flat stomach. No wonder I had been so tired and sick lately. A dark, cruel thought surfaced. A part of me was relieved. I had nothing to give a child. The door opened. Seraphina walked in, followed by Jax, his eyes red and swollen. He couldn’t look at me. She bit her lip, forcing the words out. “My men got carried away. They didn’t know when to stop. On their behalf, I apologize.” She paused, pulling a checkbook from her expensive handbag and placing a blank check on my bedside table. “As for compensation, name your price. Take your time. After all, it was our company’s… mistake… that led to your parents’ deaths and left you like this.” Then she picked up her bag, lifted her chin, and walked out. We were alone. Jax looked at me, his lips moving, but no sound coming out. “Ava, I’m so sorry…” I just smiled. A slow, cold smile. I would make them pay. … Three days later, sirens blared across the Southside. Fire trucks and ambulances swarmed the streets. The Warrens were on fire. Jax’s calls came one after another. I finally answered. He sounded like a man on the edge of a cliff. “Ava, where are you?! Why aren’t you in your room?!” “You know where I am, Jax,” I said softly. “Don’t bother looking for me. I’m going to be with my parents soon. I won’t be the burden holding you back from your new life. Are you happy now? After all these years, we’re even.” Flames licked at the flimsy wooden walls of my shelter, crackling and popping. I didn’t move. I just held the cold picture frame in my arms a little tighter. In the photo, my parents and I were smiling. I could hear the media scrum outside, the police shouting. I thought I heard Jax scream my name. “Ava!” He was trying to break through the police line. I ignored it all and closed my eyes, pressing my cheek against the cool glass of the frame. The air warped with the heat. I could see my parents in the flames, beckoning to me. Just as the heat and smoke were about to pull me under, there was a tremendous crash. The burning wall exploded inward. Jax, wreathed in smoke, stumbled into the inferno. He reached for me. “Ava! Go! We have to go!” I didn’t move. I just looked at him, my expression calm. His eyes were wild, pleading. “Ava… I was wrong… I was so wrong… please, just come outside. We can talk outside…” The smoke was getting thicker, the flames crawling across the ceiling. “Outside?” My voice was a hoarse whisper. “Outside where, Jax? My home is here. The home we were supposed to have… you destroyed it.” He slapped himself, hard, twice across the face. “I’m an animal, Ava, I deserve to die… but don’t do this, don’t throw your life away… I’m begging you…” The heat was unbearable. I could hear the firehoses outside. “Is anyone still in there?! We need to get them out!” The shout seemed to snap Jax out of his panic. He lunged forward, trying to scoop me into his arms. At that exact moment, a burning beam from the ceiling came crashing down. And the world went black.

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My best friend’s son’s eyes are identical to my husband’s. I was holding little Alex, who is three, and watching him laugh. The curve of his smile, the shape of his eyes, even the way they crinkled— I froze. “Godmother, what’s wrong?” I heard my own voice tremble. “Nothing,” I said, putting the child down. I watched him run towards Sarah. Sarah. My best friend of twenty years. She picked up Alex and smiled at me. “Look how much he loves his godmother.” I smiled back. But my palms were drenched in sweat. 1. Sarah and I have been classmates since middle school. Twenty whole years, from the age of thirteen until now. She was my bridesmaid when I got married. When she suffered a postpartum hemorrhage, I was the first to rush to the hospital. Three years ago, she suddenly told me she was pregnant. “Whose?” She just smiled, saying nothing. “You’re not going to tell me?” “It doesn’t matter,” she said, touching her belly. “I can raise him myself.” At the time, I thought she was so cool. A single mother, an independent woman. I helped her find the best obstetrician. I accompanied her to every prenatal check-up. When she had morning sickness, I made her porridge. On the day she went into labor, I was with her in the delivery room. “I’ll definitely pay you back when I have money,” she said from her hospital bed, gripping my hand. “Don’t be silly,” I laughed. “What kind of relationship do we have?” She cried. “You’re the best friend I’ll ever have.” I cried too. I believed her. During her month of postpartum confinement, I was at her house almost every day. Cooking soup, cleaning the room, washing the baby’s diapers. My husband, Harold, said I was too devoted. “She has family, doesn’t she?” “Her parents aren’t local, and she’s all alone. If I don’t help her, who will?” Harold didn’t say anything more. On the day of Alex’s full-month celebration, I gave a set of gold locks and bracelets, worth over thirty thousand. Sarah held the baby, prompting him to call me. “Say ‘Godmother.’” Little Alex babbled, drool running down his chin. I took him, my heart melting completely. “Godmother will buy you delicious food, toys, and send you to school.” Sarah stood by, her eyes curved in a smile. “You’re better to him than his own mother.” At the time, I thought this was the most genuine friendship in the world. When Alex was one, Sarah moved. The new apartment complex was very close to my house, a ten-minute walk. “This way, it’s easier for you to see Alex,” she said. I didn’t think much of it. Sometimes, when Sarah worked late, she’d drop Alex off at my house. Harold initially found it annoying. “Again?” “Just a few hours, can you watch him for me?” Later, he stopped complaining. He even started asking, “Alex isn’t coming today?” I said, “Sarah isn’t working late today.” He “oh-ed” and looked down at his phone. Now that I think about it, was he chatting with her then? For Alex’s second birthday, I gave him a big red envelope. At two and a half, I enrolled him in an early childhood education class, eighteen thousand. Sarah said she felt bad, but I said it was fine. “It’s not easy raising a child alone; I’ll help you.” She looked at me, her eyes red. “I don’t know how to thank you.” “Don’t say such things.” I was sincere. I didn’t have children. Five years of marriage, and I still couldn’t conceive. Harold said not to rush, let nature take its course. My mother-in-law’s expression grew worse and worse, but she didn’t say anything to my face. Alex, in a way, filled that void for me. I loved him as if he were my own son. But I didn’t know he might actually be my husband’s “own son.” The change started when he turned three. One day, I went to Sarah’s house to pick up Alex. He was eating watermelon. Red juice ran down his chin. He looked up and smiled at me. I froze. That smile. Those crinkling eyes. That unconscious head tilt. Exactly like Harold. I told myself then: You’re overthinking it. All kids look somewhat alike. But from that day on, I couldn’t help but observe. Alex’s ears. Harold’s ears had that same shape, with a little point at the top. Alex’s fingers. Slender and long, just like Harold’s. Alex would purse his lips when he was angry. Harold did too. Once was a coincidence. Twice was a coincidence. What about three, four, five times? I started losing sleep. That night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning. Harold was already asleep. I looked at his profile, suddenly feeling like he was a stranger. I quietly picked up his phone. His phone was never password-protected; we had agreed on mutual trust. I opened WeChat and found Sarah’s chat. The most recent messages were from three days ago. “Alex has a cold, do you have time to come see him?” “Okay, tomorrow.” That was it. Ordinary. I scrolled back further. All everyday conversations. No flirtation, nothing suspicious. I breathed a sigh of relief. I must be overthinking. It had to be. The next day, Sarah called. “Lily, Alex misses you. Coming over for dinner today?” “Okay.” I hung up and saw Harold standing at the door. “Going to Sarah’s?” “Yes.” “I’ll come too,” he said. “I can bring Alex a toy.” He used to find it annoying, and now he’s volunteering? I looked at him, saying nothing. He smiled. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” I averted my gaze. Telling myself: Don’t be paranoid. During dinner, Alex sat next to Harold. Harold served him food, wiped his mouth. “Uncle Harold is so nice,” Alex said. Sarah laughed. “Harold cares more about Alex than you, his godmother.” Harold said, “Kids are always likable.” I ate silently, my head down. But my eyes were constantly watching. Watching Harold serve food. Watching Alex eat. Watching their profiles side by side. Similar. They were so similar. Sarah suddenly spoke, “Lily, what’s wrong? You don’t look so good.” “Nothing, just a little tired.” She looked at me with concern. “Maybe you should go home and rest?” “No, I’m fine.” I smiled. But inside, a storm was brewing. On the way home, I asked Harold, “How long have you known Sarah?” He paused. “Through you, about six years now.” “Do you two contact each other often?” “Not much, just when she asks me to help fix her computer or something.” “You’re really good to Alex.” He smiled. “That kid is charming.” I didn’t say anything else. After getting home, he went to shower. I sat on the sofa, staring at the wall, lost in thought. Fix computer. Did Sarah ever ask him to fix her computer? Why don’t I know about that? That night, I couldn’t sleep. At three in the morning, I got up and took Harold’s phone again. This time, I searched more thoroughly. No WeChat messages. No texts. Call history… I froze. The call history with Sarah. More than I expected. At least three or four times a week. Sometimes ten minutes, sometimes half an hour. But it didn’t show up on WeChat because they only sent voice messages, never typed. I put the phone back, lay back in bed, and stared at the ceiling until dawn. 2. I started paying attention to more details. That photo of Alex at 100 days old at Sarah’s house. I leaned in, looking at his eyebrows. Thick brows, connected in the middle. Harold had them too. And that dimple. On his left cheek, appearing only when he smiled. Harold had one too. I asked Sarah, “Whose dimple does Alex have?” She paused, then smiled. “I don’t know, maybe his dad’s.” “His dad has a dimple?” “I don’t remember,” she said. “It’s been too long since we broke up.” I stared at her face for a few seconds. Her smile froze for a moment. Then quickly returned to normal. “Oh, by the way, can you check Alex’s foot? Is it a bit flat-footed?” The topic was changed. But I remembered that frozen moment. After that, I started “accidentally” looking through Harold’s things. His computer. His drawers. His bank statements. Then I found a transfer. Five thousand every month, on a fixed date, transferred to an unfamiliar account. “What’s this?” I asked him. He glanced at it, his expression unchanged. “Helping a friend out. He said he’d pay me back in installments.” “Which friend?” “You don’t know him.” I didn’t ask any more questions. But I noted down the account. That night, I used my own channels to check. Account holder: Sarah. My hands were trembling. Five thousand every month. Transferred for three years. Three years, thirty-six months, one hundred and eighty thousand. I never knew. He was transferring money to her, behind my back. Why? Helping a friend out? Was she his friend? Or my friend? I took a deep breath. Told myself to calm down. I couldn’t be sure yet. Maybe it really was just a loan. Maybe Sarah was having difficulties and was too embarrassed to ask me. Maybe… But why hide it from me? The next day, I asked Sarah out for coffee. “Are you tight on money lately?” “I’m okay,” she smiled. “Why?” “If you need money, you can tell me.” “No, no,” she waved her hand. “I have enough.” “Really?” “Really.” She looked at me. “Lily, what’s wrong with you today?” “Nothing,” I smiled. “Just worried about you.” “Silly girl.” She squeezed my hand. “With you as my best friend, what do I have to fear?” Her hand was warm. Her eyes were sincere. I almost believed her. But one hundred and eighty thousand. She said she had enough. Then where did Harold’s money go? I started checking more things. Harold’s schedule. He said he had a business trip this weekend, and I said okay. But I didn’t tell him I had put a tracker on his car. That weekend, the tracker showed him in the city center. Not the city of his business trip. But a hotel. A five-star one, very close to Sarah’s house. I sat at home, watching the little dot on my phone. He stayed there for three hours. Then he came home. “How was the business trip?” I asked him. “It was alright, a bit tiring,” he yawned. “I’m going to shower first.” I watched his back. Business trip. A bit tiring. What made you so tired? That night, after he fell asleep, I took his phone again. This time, I found a hidden album. It required a password. I tried his birthday, incorrect. Our wedding anniversary, incorrect. His mother’s birthday, incorrect. Finally, I tried Alex’s birthday. It opened. Inside were just a few photos. Sarah’s. Selfies, candid shots. And one photo of the two of them together. The background was a hotel room. Sarah leaned on his shoulder, smiling sweetly. The date was in the bottom right corner. Two years ago. I put the phone back. Walked out onto the balcony. It was dark outside; I couldn’t see any stars. I stood there for a long time. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. I just felt cold. Cold from the inside out. My best friend of twenty years. My husband of five years. The two people I trusted most. Had been betraying me all along. I remembered what Sarah had said. “You’re the best friend I’ll ever have.” I remembered what Harold had said. “We agreed to trust each other.” So laughable. 3. The next day, I didn’t say a word. I made breakfast as usual, and saw Harold off as usual. “What do you want for dinner tonight?” I asked him. “Whatever, you decide,” he kissed my forehead. “My hardworking wife.” I smiled. Watched him drive away. Then I closed the door, leaning against the wall. Every breath hurt. But I told myself: It’s not enough yet. Photos can be faked. I needed more definite proof. I made a decision. A DNA test. Sarah had called saying Alex had a cold, so I offered to visit. I brought toys, fruit, and a cotton swab. “Let me see Alex’s throat.” Sarah didn’t think much of it and brought the child over. I took the opportunity when she turned to get water to swab inside Alex’s mouth with the cotton swab. “What’s Godmother doing?” “Checking if you have any inflammation,” I said, smiling. “Nothing, you’re very healthy.” Alex grinned. I put the cotton swab in a bag and tucked it into my pocket. Harold’s sample was easier to get. His razor. His toothbrush. His hair on the pillow. I collected enough samples and sent them to a testing agency. “It should take about a week,” the staff said. “Okay, I’ll wait.” A week. Seven days. For these seven days, I had to pretend I knew nothing. These seven days passed slowly. Every day, I cooked, went to work, and talked to Harold as usual. He didn’t notice anything unusual. Because I was acting very well. Or rather, he simply didn’t care. That Thursday, he said he had another business trip this weekend. “Where are you going this time?” “Shanghai, to meet a client.” “How many days will you be gone?” “Two days, I think.” I nodded, saying nothing. But I knew he wouldn’t be going to Shanghai. He would be going to that hotel. Friday evening, Sarah called. “Lily, come over for dinner this weekend, I’m making dumplings.” “Okay.” “What about Harold? Tell him to come too.” “He’s on a business trip.” Silence on the other end of the phone for a second. “Oh, then just come by yourself.” I hung up. Business trip. They think I don’t know. They think I’m still that fool. Saturday, I didn’t go to Sarah’s house. I went to that hotel. I wanted to see it with my own eyes. I sat in the lobby for two hours, then I saw them walk in together. Harold had his arm around Sarah’s waist. Sarah leaned on his shoulder. Both were laughing and chatting. Like an ordinary couple. No, like an ordinary married couple. My phone captured the scene. Then I left. I didn’t rush up to them. I didn’t make a scene. Because it wasn’t time yet. Sunday evening, Harold returned from his “business trip.” “Are you tired?” I asked him. “Not really,” he put down his luggage. “The client was difficult; it took two days to finalize.” “That sounds tough.” “My wife is so thoughtful.” He smiled and kissed me. I smiled too. I let him kiss me. Then I said, “Promise me something.” “What?” “You and Sarah…” His body noticeably stiffened. “You and Sarah should limit your contact from now on,” I said. “I don’t really like you two being too close.” He breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “You’re overthinking it. What could possibly be going on between us? She’s your best friend, and I’m just helping out.” “Really?” “Really.” He looked into my eyes. “Wife, have you been too tired lately? You’re being paranoid.” I looked into his eyes. Those eyes that once made me feel so secure. Now I just found them disgusting. “Maybe,” I said. “I’m just overthinking.” He hugged me. “Silly girl, how could I ever do anything to betray you?” I leaned on his shoulder. Closed my eyes. Okay. I’ll give you one more chance. If the DNA results are negative, I’ll pretend nothing happened. If they’re positive… 4. A week later, the results were out. I went to pick up the report alone. The staff handed me an envelope. “Read it yourself or shall I read it to you?” “I’ll read it myself.” I opened the envelope. My hand was trembling. My eyes found the line of text. “Probability of paternity: 99.9999%.” “Conclusion: Supports Harold as the biological father of Alex.” I stared at those words for a long time. Then I folded the report and put it in my bag. Walking out of the testing center, the sunlight was blinding. I stood by the roadside, and suddenly I laughed. 99.9999%. Biological father. I helped her during her confinement. I bought gold locks for the child. I spent twenty thousand to enroll the child in early education. I loved him as if he were my own son. It turns out, he really was my husband’s “own son.” I didn’t go home. I found a coffee shop and sat there all afternoon, sorting through everything. Alex is three. They’ve been together for at least three years. Maybe longer. Harold and I have been married for five years. Which means… from the very beginning of our marriage, he was betraying me? I remembered what he said when he proposed. “I will only love you in this life.” I remembered what Sarah said when she was my bridesmaid. “Lily, you must be happy.” Happy. She slept with my husband and wanted me to be happy. What a huge joke. When I got home that evening, Harold was already there. “Where were you? You didn’t answer your phone.” “Shopping with colleagues; my phone died.” “Oh.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought something happened.” Something happened? Something big happened. I looked at him and smiled. “Nothing, just shopped for too long.” “Are you hungry? I ordered takeout.” “Yes, I’m hungry.” I sat down to eat, chatted with him, and watched TV. As usual. Nothing changed. Only my heart had grown cold. Over the next few days, I continued to gather evidence. I found their chat history. Harold had replaced his phone once, but he had a habit of backing things up. I found all their chat records in his cloud drive. Starting from four years ago. “Miss you.” “Me too.” “When can we be openly together?” “When the time is right.” “Alex called me ‘Daddy’ today.” “Really? Send me the video.” I read them one by one. My hands were shaking. So they had planned it all along. Waiting for the “time to be right.” What time? For me to die? Or for them to save enough money to run away? There were also transfer records. Besides the five thousand a month, there were others. Money for the child’s formula, toys, early education fees. Some I paid, some he paid. The two of us, together, raising his illegitimate child. I remembered one time, Sarah said she was short on cash and wanted to borrow money from me. I transferred twenty thousand to her. She said she’d pay it back when she got paid. And she did. But that month, Harold also transferred twenty thousand to her. She used Harold’s money to pay off her debt to me. What a well-played game. I compiled all the evidence. The DNA report. Screenshots of chat records. Transfer records. Hotel photos. Hotel stay records—which I had someone pull. Three years, they booked rooms 87 times. 87 times. An average of two to three times a month. I calculated, it was probably when I was on business trips, when I was working overtime, when I thought he was also working overtime. I printed all these out, bound them. Two copies. One for Harold. One for Sarah.

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