Category: English

When the Comanches came for Stone Creek, my wife, Emma, had taken the entire town posse to the chapel. Not to pray, but to celebrate the new preacher’s Saint’s Day. The mayor begged me to ride out and bring her back. I refused. In my last life, I’d spurred my horse down the treacherous back trail, dragged Emma from the preacher’s side, and returned just in time to save the town. But the preacher, her shining ideal, was captured by a few stray raiders. They tortured him, then left his body in the woods for the wolves. Emma hunted down those raiders herself. When she returned, she locked herself in our room for three days. She never spoke of it again. Not until the territory, hearing of my “heroism,” offered me the preacher’s position as captain of the posse. The day our son was born, Emma slipped laudanum into my drink. She broke my legs. She took a scalpel to my belly and threw my insides into the woods for the beasts to devour. “It was you,” she’d whispered, her voice a venomous hiss. “You conspired with them, all for your own glory. You murdered him.” “Since you love playing the hero so much, you can die like one, too.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the raid began. This time, if she wanted to protect her preacher, I’d let her. … The moment the first arrow splintered the barn door, I smelled the familiar, acrid tang of gunpowder. God, the damned déjà vu. I scrambled for the door, pulling it open just as Mayor Thompson stumbled in. “Jedediah! The Comanches are upon us! Rally the posse!” Before I could answer, his wife, Martha, rushed in behind him, her face pale. “Frank, I’ve looked everywhere! The men are gone! The rifles from the posse’s office… they’re all missing!” A crowd of the town’s women followed her, their faces etched with terror. The mayor was stunned. “Gone? Where in God’s name did they go?” As the only one who knew, I had to be the one to tell them. “Emma took them. To the chapel, for Reverend Silas’s Saint’s Day.” “Folly!” the mayor roared. “The circuit judge just warned us of increased raiding parties! He ordered constant patrols, and she takes them off their posts for a celebration?” The women erupted in a chorus of curses, damning Emma’s name for luring their husbands away. Another volley of rifle fire cracked through the air. Screams echoed through the small town. The mayor, a veteran of the war, didn’t flinch. “The rest of you men, get to the drawbridge and raise it! Women and children, into the old silver mine! Don’t come out until you hear a friendly voice!” Our town was nestled in a valley. There were two ways in. The main road led to a heavy wooden drawbridge spanning Black Gulch, a relic from the town’s founding days, built to keep out rustlers and raiders. Once raised, it was nearly impossible to lower from the outside. The other way was a treacherous switchback trail behind the mountain. It was narrow and winding, a single misstep sending horse and rider plunging to their deaths. It was a faster route to the next town, a half-hour ride, but no one ever used it. After giving his orders, the mayor turned to me. “Jed, you know that back trail. You’re the best rider we have. Take the trail, find them, and bring the posse back. For God’s sake, hurry.” I clenched my jaw. “Mayor, I can go, but I fear it’ll be for nothing. Emma will stop them. She won’t let them come with me.” A heavy silence fell over the group. Ever since Reverend Silas had arrived to lead our congregation, it was as if my wife’s eyes were fixed on him and him alone. The whole town knew we fought about it constantly. As their gazes burned into me, my brother-in-law, Leo, stepped forward, saving me. “I’ll go. I know the trail, too. If Jed and my sister start arguing, we’ll lose precious time.” The mayor nodded, and Leo didn’t waste a second, running to fetch his horse. Martha led the women toward the mine shaft to wait for a rescue that might never come. I went with the mayor to defend the drawbridge. An hour and a half later, Leo returned. He appeared at the mouth of the mine, and a cheer went up from the women, thinking the posse was with him. But his face was as white as a sheet. “They won’t come back,” he choked out. The women stared, bewildered. “Why?” Tears streamed down Leo’s face. “They said I was lying. Emma… she said I was in on it with you, Jed, trying to trick everyone. I got on my knees and begged, but they just called me a disgrace.” He broke down, sobbing from the weight of the humiliation. His grief infected the crowd, and they began cursing Silas, calling him a plague on the town. A so-called man of God who did nothing but chase another man’s wife. Before the cursing could die down, a tremendous BOOM shook the earth. The raiders had dynamite. They were going to blow the bridge supports. “What do we do now?” someone wailed. “Are we all going to die in here?” Seeing the terror on their faces, I had an idea. “If our posse won’t come, we can get help from another town.” “I’ll go!” Leo cried, not even wiping the tears from his face. But as he tried to stand, he stumbled, his leg buckling beneath him. We forced him to sit and pulled up his trouser leg. His shin was swollen to the size of a melon. He shamefully admitted he’d taken a fall, pushing his horse too hard on the trail. “It’s nothing,” he insisted, trying to stand again. “I can still ride.” I pushed him back down firmly. “No. You stay here. I’ll go.” Ignoring their protests, I swung myself onto my horse. The mayor ran after me. “Jed! You have to get back with help in two hours! The bridge won’t hold much longer than that!” I nodded grimly and rode hard. Halfway down the trail, a figure darted out from the trees. I reined in my horse just in time. My eyes widened as I saw who it was: Marshal Thorne, the lawman from the neighboring town of Redemption. I dismounted, a wave of relief washing over me. “Thorne! Thank God. What are you doing out here?” I was about to explain our dire situation when he suddenly grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back in a painful hold. Thorne sneered, his voice cold. “Waiting for you, Jed.” A sharp pain shot up my arm. “What are you talking about?” “Aren’t you on your way to meet the raiders?” His expression was one of pure disgust. “Your wife rode out at dawn. Told me to wait for you on this trail. Said you’d come this way to parley with them. Jedediah, your father was a legend who hunted men like these to the ends of the earth. And you, brought so low by jealousy you’d conspire with them? You shame his name!” My mind went numb. The words were English, but it took a long moment for them to register. In my last life, as Emma killed me, she had said the same thing. That I had summoned the raiders myself, all to seize the posse captaincy from Silas. That I had orchestrated his murder. In that instant, I knew. Emma had been reborn, too. That’s why she had ignored Leo’s desperate pleas. She had done more than just ignore them; she had cut off our only path to salvation. There was no time to defend my honor. I swallowed my pride. “Thorne, I’m not conspiring with anyone. The Comanches have hit Stone Creek. They have dynamite, and they’re blowing the bridge. Our posse is gone. Emma took them to celebrate with Silas.” “You have to get your men. Please, ride to Stone Creek and help us. If you don’t, the whole town will be lost.” My earnestness must have given him pause. He stared at me for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “Jed, you’re a convincing actor. I almost believed you. But claiming Emma would abandon her post to celebrate a birthday with Silas? That’s too far-fetched.” “I know Emma. She’s the most responsible woman I’ve ever met. An educated woman. She would never lack that kind of judgment.” His mockery was a knife in my heart. “I’m telling the truth. If you don’t believe me, go and see for yourself.” “I think you’re trying to trick me into leaving so you can meet up with your raider friends,” Thorne said, shaking his head. “Jed, don’t be a fool. Do you know why I’m here alone? Because Emma asked me to talk you down, to convince you to turn back from this path. She said she still loves you. Otherwise, she would have reported this to the territorial marshal, and you’d be in chains by now.” Emma loves me. Before Silas came, I would have believed that. My father rescued her and Leo from a bandit raid that killed their parents. She was only ten when she came to live with us. We grew up together. On his deathbed, after a retaliatory bandit attack, my father asked her if she would be my wife. She said yes. She went to a finishing school back East, telling me to wait for her. I waited four years, raising Leo as my own. When she returned, we were married. But she was always distant. People told me that’s just how it is with couples who have known each other forever. The fire dies down. I believed them. Then Silas arrived, and I saw a light in Emma’s eyes I had never seen before. She would mend his worn clothes, watch him for hours as he worked, and secretly save her teaching money to buy him a silver-inlaid bible. These were affections I had never known. The memory was a fresh stab of pain. But this was no time for self-pity. If Thorne wouldn’t help, I’d have to ride further. There was an army outpost twenty miles out. I was a good rider. If I pushed my horse, I could make it in an hour. The town still had a chance. I moved to mount my horse, but Thorne grabbed me again. “Where do you think you’re going? To meet your allies?” “If you won’t help, I’ll find someone who will,” I grunted, struggling against his grip. “Let go of me!” “I can’t let you go!” Thorne twisted my arm, and a sickening pop echoed in the quiet woods. My shoulder was dislocated. He produced a rope and tied my hands, pulling me toward his own town. Tears of desperation stung my eyes. “Thorne, you have to let me go! I have to save them!” “Save your breath,” he said, hauling me onto his horse. “You’re not going anywhere today.” He led the horse back toward Redemption. As we reached the edge of his town, we saw several of his posse members running out, rifles in hand. Thorne stopped them. “What’s happening?” “A rider just came through! Said Stone Creek is under attack by a war party! We’re riding to help!” Thorne’s face went white as a ghost.

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1 Thirty years into our childfree marriage, my husband’s twenty-eight-year-old son showed up on our doorstep. This was the second year his son had a legal claim to inheritance, so his reason for being here was painfully obvious. When I asked my husband, Robert, what he was thinking, his eyes darted away. He mumbled something about us getting older and needing someone to look after us, and then, inevitably, “He’s my blood, after all.” Seeing my stony silence, he closed his eyes and played his trump card. “If you had a secret child out there, you could bring them home, too. They could inherit our assets right alongside him.” We’d been together for thirty years, never apart for more than a few months at a time. He was certain I couldn’t possibly have a secret child. But if that was the game he wanted to play, then my guilt vanished. A secret child, you say? Did he really think I didn’t have one? Oh, I did. And I had more than one. … When the young man at my door said he was looking for his biological father, my brain short-circuited for a moment before I told him, logically, “You have the wrong address.” My husband and I had agreed to be childfree before we even got married. How could we possibly have a child? The young man’s polite smile didn’t falter. His gaze slid past me to someone standing behind me, and his voice filled with a sudden, bright surprise. “Mr. Thompson… no, I mean… Dad?” Dad? I turned stiffly, following his line of sight. There, in the middle of our living room, stood my husband, Robert. He looked at us, his expression a guilty, complicated mess. His eyes shifted, darted, and did everything they could to avoid meeting mine. A deep, bone-piercing chill spread through me. At that moment, what was there left to misunderstand? The three of us sat on the sofa. Robert and the young man, Leo, exchanged countless glances, silent messages passing between them. They were already familiar. They must have met in private many times. I was the only stranger in the room. I said nothing. Thirty years of marriage. A husband who had insisted on being childfree now had a twenty-eight-year-old son. I didn’t know what expression to wear, what emotion to feel. We were both nearly sixty, recently retired, and holding onto the life savings we had spent our entire careers building. And now, in the second year that illegitimate children had a legal right to inheritance, this young man’s intentions couldn’t be clearer. 2 Now that the truth was out, all Robert could do was apologize and explain. His excuse was pathetic, boiling down to a single, tired cliché: a drunken one-night stand in his youth. It was laughable. Robert was famous for being able to hold his liquor when he was young. And even if he had gotten drunk, was he even capable of… performing? After more than thirty years together, this man with his salt-and-pepper hair felt like a complete stranger. I looked from him to the young man and asked my first question since Leo walked in. “Why didn’t your mother come with you?” Leo’s lips twitched in a smirk, a look that said, I knew you’d ask that. “Julia, my mom’s a very busy woman. She’s on a trip with some friends right now. She didn’t have the time.” I narrowed my eyes, studying the young man who shared a faint resemblance to Robert. I had a few decades of life experience on him; I wasn’t deaf to the barbs hidden in his words. He held his chin slightly raised, an unconscious air of arrogance about him. Just a secret son, and he thought he had the upper hand with me? A cold laugh escaped me. “So, your mother raised you for all these years without looking for a father, but now she sends you? Did she finally run out of money to support you?” Leo’s face darkened. Before he could speak, Robert barked from the side, “Julia!” I shot him a frigid glare. He still couldn’t meet my eyes, only muttering that I shouldn’t take my anger out on the boy, that the boy was innocent and didn’t know anything. Was the boy innocent? Of course not. As a child born of an affair, his very existence was a sin against our marriage. Leo didn’t stay long. His visit was meant to deliver a single message: he had a girlfriend he wanted to marry, but his current apartment was too small. He wanted to move in with us. After all, our home was a sprawling three-thousand-square-foot condo. What a ridiculous fantasy. I hadn’t worked my entire life just to hand it all over to someone else. I immediately refused. Robert just lowered his head and said nothing. As Leo left, he gave me a look that was half-smile, half-sneer. Robert had already done a DNA test. Even as a love child, his right to inheritance was set in stone. I could block him for now, but I couldn’t block him forever. 3 After Leo left, Robert and I sat in the living room in heavy silence. The situation was what it was. Words felt feeble and pointless. After weighing my options, I swallowed the rage that was threatening to choke me and asked Robert, “What’s your plan?” He hemmed and hawed for a long time. “Julia, look, we’re both getting on in years. We’re not as healthy as we used to be. Having someone around to look after us would be…” “Don’t give me that,” I cut him off. “I will not accept him.” He was his son, not mine. Let him look after us? Was I in a hurry to die? I wasn’t blind. I could see the open hostility in Leo’s eyes whenever he looked at me. It’s not that I hadn’t considered divorce. But divorce meant splitting our marital assets down the middle. Everything we had, we’d earned together over a lifetime of work. I couldn’t stomach the thought of even half of it going to someone like Leo. Robert’s expression shifted, but he managed to suppress his temper. He went on and on, the gist of it being that what’s done is done, Leo was his blood, and he couldn’t just abandon his own son. It wasn’t like he was royalty with a throne to pass down. All this talk of his “only bloodline” was nonsense. Seeing my unwavering coldness, Robert finally gritted his teeth and played his trump card. “Julia, if you have a child out there, you can bring them home, too. They can share the inheritance with Leo.” He dared to say this because we’d spent thirty years together, never apart for more than a few months. He was certain I had no way of having a secret child. I was fifty-seven, well past childbearing age. Their plan was perfectly timed. They’d waited until now to show up, probably fearing I might have changed my mind about being childfree earlier and had a child of my own. But who can really say when it comes to secret children? Noticing my grim expression, Robert softened his tone. “Julia, I admit I made a small mistake when I was young, and I’m sorry. But we’ve been through thirty years of storms together. How many years do we even have left? It’s not like we can raise a child at our age. And Leo… he has half my blood. He can’t be a bad person…” He probably didn’t even realize the smug, triumphant look on his own face. He was the one who had wanted to be childfree, claiming he disliked children, that he had a physical aversion to them. I didn’t care for children either, so we’d reached a consensus. Now, he had stabbed me in the back and was laughing at me for being a fool who didn’t know how to protect herself. 4 Three days. Robert only managed to act meek and subservient for three days. After that, he began contacting Leo openly in front of me. They had voice chats, video calls, phone calls. The once-quiet living room was now filled with their laughter. In the last two days, Robert had even suggested officially changing Leo’s last name to his. I ignored him, watching his smug performance with cold eyes. Scum like him were masters of disguise, their true nature lying dormant for years. But to maintain a facade for thirty years… that was a rare talent. I was nearly sixty. The ambition of my youth had faded. I lacked the courage to start all over again. Besides, the assets Robert and I had built up were already tied together. Making him walk away with nothing wouldn’t be easy. My silence made Robert believe that accepting Leo into the family was a done deal. After all, there was no denying Leo was his biological son. Even the law recognized it. I couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore. I decided to call my best friend, Claire, and get away for a few days. Robert thoughtfully packed my suitcase for me. As I was leaving, he said with a cheerful smile, “Julia, at our age, there are some things you just can’t change. The best thing to do is to learn to let go.” Claire took my suitcase from him, her smile even wider than Robert’s. “You know, Rob, it’s because of that attitude of yours that Julia and I can go on our trips without a single worry in the world.” Robert didn’t catch her double meaning. He just assumed I hadn’t told Claire about his son and thought she was praising him. The car door closed, and Robert’s figure shrank in the rearview mirror. I turned to Claire. “Are the kids back?” Claire nodded. “They all got back last night. They’re waiting for you at the house.” I didn’t say anything more, just wearily pinched the bridge of my nose. She took my hand. I looked down at it. Claire was only a year younger than me, but the wrinkles on the back of her hand were just as pronounced as mine. I sighed silently and gently squeezed her hand back. 5 I was gone for five days, with no contact with Robert. When I returned, the first thing that shot out as I opened the door was a yapping mutt of some unknown breed. The dog barked furiously at me from inside my own home. A strange woman’s voice called out, “Fluffy, what are you barking at? Is that a guest at the door—?” The woman walked to the doorway and froze when she saw me, swallowing the rest of her sentence. Clearly, she knew who I was. And in this house, she was the guest. An unwelcome one. She looked to be about my age, wearing a pale pink dress and a perm of big, rolling waves. Her face was caked in a thick layer of foundation that couldn’t hide the deep lines around her mouth. She looked both overdone and cheap. Our eyes met. My face was a mask of cold fury. Though I had already guessed her identity, my tone was accusatory. “Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?” Panic flickered across her face for only a second before she composed herself, offering me a decidedly unfriendly smile. “You must be Julia. I’m Renee.” Renee. Leo. Another voice came from inside. “Mom, who is it?” Leo and Robert appeared together behind Renee. Well, look at that. The happy family, all assembled. Robert, at least, had the decency to look guilty. “You’re back early,” he stammered. “You didn’t say anything.” I scoffed. “And if I had, would I have been able to see this little show?” As I walked into the living room, I realized it wasn’t a family of three, but four. Leo’s girlfriend was lounging on the sofa, playing on her phone with her feet propped up on my coffee table. When she heard me come in, she glanced up for a second before returning to her game. To actually bring his old flame and his secret son into our home… Robert had gone too far. 6 I slammed my suitcase down on the table. The girl on the sofa snapped her feet off the table and shot me a dirty look. Leo, her loyal puppy, immediately jumped to her defense, yelling at me, “Can’t you be a little quieter?” I didn’t even bother to look at him. “This is my house. I’ll do whatever I want. What does it have to do with an outsider like you?” “This is my dad’s house, too,” Leo sneered, tilting his chin up to look down his nose at me. There was that bizarre sense of superiority again. “Aunt Julia, at your age, you need someone to rely on. I think it would be wise for you to be a little more polite to me.” I met his gaze and memorized his arrogant face. Renee stood next to Robert, a faint smile playing on her lips. Like a wilted white flower. I ignored them and looked directly at Robert, my voice as even as I could make it. “Robert, sit down. We need to talk.” Robert instinctively glanced at Renee and her son. Renee seemed to let out a cold huff, making no move to leave. Instead, she sat down directly across from me, and Leo sat beside her, his eyes full of hostility. They had no understanding of their place here, and clearly, Robert had allowed it. Robert looked at them, then at me, and finally sat down on the other side of Renee. They flanked her, one on each side, as if protecting her from me, the evil villain of this story. I didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “Robert, you know exactly how much money we have saved up over the years.” At this, everyone’s eyes snapped to Robert. Even the girlfriend, who had been playing her game, turned the volume down and pricked up her ears. A strange silence fell over the living room. Robert looked at me for a long moment before finally nodding. “I do.” Our savings were in a single joint account. The card had a six-digit PIN. I knew the first three digits; Robert knew the last three. When we were younger, we were both reckless spenders. After Robert had a serious health scare and we couldn’t even scrape together enough for the surgery, we realized the importance of saving. To prevent either of us from slipping back into bad habits, we’d come up with this two-part PIN system. In front of everyone, I took the bank card out of my purse and placed it on the table. “There’s three hundred and fifty thousand dollars in that account.” Hearing the amount, no one but the girlfriend showed any surprise. It seemed Robert had already told them. Robert rubbed his hands together, forcing a sheepish smile. “Julia, uh, I’ve calculated the costs for Leo’s wedding. We’d only need about a hundred and fifty thousand—” Before he could finish, Renee cut him off. “Robert, you don’t understand how things are these days. The reception, the rings, the bride price, the photos… we have to do it properly. That’s nowhere near enough…” The girlfriend, who had been lounging, was now sitting bolt upright, her feet planted firmly on the floor. She nodded eagerly. “Your mom’s right, Leo. My best friend got married last year, and her fiancé’s family gave her a hundred thousand dollars. I’m not worth any less than her, am I?” Leo moved closer to her, stroking her head indulgently. “Don’t worry, you’ll get just as much, if not more. Right, Dad?” The ball was back in Robert’s court. He didn’t answer, just shot me a cautious look. “Julia, a wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. What do you think…?” “Let me finish,” I said, opening the calculator on my phone. “The mortgage on the condo has five years left. That’s eight hundred a month. To pay it off in one go, we’ll need eighty thousand.” We’d bought the three-thousand-square-foot condo early, when prices were low. We’d already paid off fifteen years of a twenty-year mortgage. The only reason we hadn’t paid it off sooner was that most of the interest was already paid, and the remaining payments were manageable on our retirement incomes. Before Robert could speak, Renee frowned. “After that, there’s only about two hundred seventy thousand left. That’s barely enough for Leo’s wedding.” Leo chimed in right on cue. “Dad, we have to pay off the mortgage first. Keira’s and my salaries are just enough to cover our monthly expenses. We can’t handle anything else.” I looked up from my phone, taking in their greedy faces, and a slow smile spread across my lips. “What are you all thinking? Do you really believe you’re entitled to any of that one hundred and seventy thousand?” Their faces fell. Robert’s brow furrowed so deeply you could have lost a fly in it. “Julia, I thought you’d come to terms with this. Why are you saying things like this now? I told you, Leo is my only child—” I held up a hand, cutting him off. “You have one child. That’s your business. This is our joint property. So, of course, it should be split equally between our children.” Before Robert could process what I’d just said, I made a call. “Bring the children in.”

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1 Her father saved my mother’s life. For that, I left my home in the secluded mountain Glades, bound to him by a life-debt. The terms were simple: stay by his daughter Seraphina’s side for six years, to repay ninety-nine acts of grace. Only then would I be free. For six years, I catered to her insatiable appetites, exploring every fantasy with her, letting her drag me into the thrill of the outdoors. She seemed to love me with a fierce, possessive passion, once buying me an entire yacht just to see me smile. The final act of grace remained unfulfilled. She promised me a surprise, something special for my birthday. That day came, and on a massive screen before all our friends, she played a video of me, naked and entangled with a much older woman. My five-year-old daughter, Lisa, smashed my birthday cake into my face. “You’re a bad man!” she shrieked, her little voice cracking. “You’re not my daddy!” Cream and blood slid down my cheek. I looked at Seraphina, lost. She was laughing, her arm linked with her childhood sweetheart, Joey. “Your mother was a home-wrecking whore who seduced my father and drove my own mother to her grave,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “I wanted everyone to see just how filthy you really are.” “Kevin,” she said, her voice a cruel mockery of our shared name, “the final debt you owe me is to watch Joey and me get married.” I stared at her, my world tilting on its axis. The woman who had been whispering sweet nothings and feeding me wine just a moment ago now looked at me with chilling indifference. I stumbled forward, my voice a whisper. “Sera… there must be some mistake…” She shoved me, hard. I tumbled back, splashing into the icy water of the pool. As I flailed, gasping for air, her words rained down on me like shards of glass. “Stop acting so innocent! You and that bitch mother of yours know exactly what you did!” she screamed. “Do you have any idea how much it sickened me to even look at your face for these past six years? Now that Joey is back, you can get the hell out of my sight.” Lisa watched me with cold eyes. She picked up an empty wine bottle from a nearby table and hurled it at my head. It struck my forehead with a sickening crack. As blood streamed down my face, she turned to Joey and smiled, a sweet, terrifying smile. “Joey, I punished the bad man. Can you be my daddy now?” In one single, brutal moment, the wife who had shared my bed and the daughter I had adored with all my heart turned on me, savaging me to win the affection of another man. The pain was a physical thing, a spear through my chest. Tears I couldn’t stop welled in my eyes and streamed down my face. “That’s a bit much, Sera,” a voice cut through the haze. It was Vanessa, Seraphina’s best friend. “Kevin has been with you for six years without any official title. He agreed to have a child with you when you didn’t want to get married, he even let Lisa take your name.” She had security guards pull me from the pool, my body shivering and broken. But her words only fueled Seraphina’s rage. “Oh, I underestimated you,” she scoffed, her eyes raking over me with disgust. “Sleeping with my best friend behind my back now, are we? You’re just as cheap as your mother.” “Always babbling about repaying some debt. I don’t have time for your little games. You’ll be in my debt for the rest of your life!” she spat. “Vanessa, you still want him? I left whip marks on him last night. Go on, take a bite.” Her words were daggers, each one twisting in my heart. There was a time when she would have destroyed anyone who dared call me a country bumpkin. Now, she was the one inflicting the deepest wounds. Her six years of tenderness and love had been a lie, a carefully constructed stage for this single, devastating act of revenge. All this time, she had hated me. I came to repay a debt, but I stayed because I had fallen in love with her. In her eyes, though, I was nothing more than a gold-digger, a parasite clinging to her wealth. I had been waiting for this birthday, hoping, praying she would finally agree to marry me. Instead, the ring she had custom-made now shone on Joey’s hand. Joey looked at me, his face a mask of contempt. “You looked like you were enjoying yourself in that video. Don’t tell me you weren’t a willing participant.” He put a protective arm around Seraphina. “You only had Lisa to trap her! You don’t even love your own daughter!” His accusations were a performance, meant not to defend her but to humiliate me. My face burned with shame and rage, but all I could do was shake my head, speechless. I couldn’t tell them it was Seraphina who had begged me to make those videos, that she was the one who promised me a real family, a real title, on this very day. A sharp, searing pain shot through my lower body, and my legs began to tremble uncontrollably. I felt a horrifying wetness, and saw blood beginning to stain my trousers. I met Seraphina’s gaze, my voice barely a croak. “Sera… I just had the enhancement surgery you wanted…” Joey scoffed. “Who knows which one of your little lovers that was for.” The air left my lungs. I swayed on my feet, the world dissolving into black spots. Vanessa rushed to my side, grabbing my arm. “Kevin, you need a hospital. Let me take you.” But my eyes were fixed on Seraphina. My voice was a dry, rasping sound. 2 “The ninety-eighth debt,” I whispered, the words tasting like ash. “You said you wanted me to get the enhancement, to give you a better experience.” A cruel smile touched her lips. “Do I need you? Your body is bland, uninteresting. The thought of touching you makes me want to vomit. Vanessa, he’s just a dog I kept. He’ll never be able to leave me.” I bit my lip, swallowing the question that clawed at my throat: What did Lisa and I ever mean to you? I already knew the answer would be nothing but more poison. Seraphina had planned this for six years, meticulously crafting a dream for me only to shatter it with her own hands the moment I believed it was real. How could she be so cruel? The pain in my groin intensified, a throbbing, relentless reminder of my own stupidity. My expression went numb. “Please,” I said, my voice flat. “Call an ambulance. The surgical wound has torn open.” Even as I lay on the operating table, her venomous messages kept coming. [Kevin, it’s just a torn stitch, not a death sentence. Your mother killed MINE.] [And don’t forget, next month, you’ll be witnessing my wedding to Joey.] She had promised to marry me, to stand before the world and give me a place by her side so no one would ever look down on me again. Now, all I had was shame and infamy. Because of a debt, my mother, who had died long ago, was branded a seductress. And I was left to endure Seraphina’s merciless revenge. The day of her wedding would be the day my debt was finally paid. The day I would finally leave. In the Glades, we have a saying: a broken heart is a debt that can never be repaid, but a faithless partner is a chain that must be broken. After I was discharged, Vanessa offered to drive me home. I managed a weak smile and refused. “Seraphina will take it out on you. You two have been friends since you were kids. It’s not worth fighting over me.” She looked at my pale face, hesitating. “You really love her that much? Even after all this, you can’t let her go?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “The debt I owe her family… it’s almost paid in full.” She didn’t understand, of course. She just sighed. “You and Sera were never going to work. You’re from different worlds. She and Joey grew up together. You should just try to forget her. As for Lisa, the Steinbergs will take good care of her.” “I’ll help you leave town tomorrow,” she offered. “It’ll be better than watching her get married.” I just shook my head. To the world, I was the pathetic lover, clinging to Seraphina despite her cruelty. No one knew the truth. They didn’t know that my mother’s lungs had failed, a rare condition our healers in the Glades couldn’t treat. It was Seraphina’s father, a visiting scholar, who had rushed her to the city, to the best doctors. Mrs. Steinberg had suffered from severe paranoia and delusions. She became convinced her husband was having an affair with my frail, bedridden mother. One day, in a state of psychosis, she threw herself from a balcony. My own mother passed away soon after. Mr. Steinberg, consumed by guilt, brought me to the city and begged me to stay by Seraphina’s side, who was shattered by the tragedy. It was he who invoked the old ways of my people, sealing the life-debt between us. The rules were absolute: until the debt was paid, I could not go home. Seraphina, lost in her own depression, developed a desperate need for physical intimacy, often keeping me awake all night. She thought my talk of “debts” was just a quaint joke. The tasks I completed were small things—watching a sunrise with her, taking her skiing. When someone once insulted me, calling me a country nobody, she had them secretly beaten. Living with her, day in and day out, I slowly, truly fell in love. When she told me she wanted our child, my heart soared. I thought that even after the debt was paid, I could stay with her forever. How wrong I was. The woman I loved for six years, the daughter I cherished… they now saw me as a thorn in their side. As I reached the gates of the Steinberg estate, a swarm of reporters appeared out of nowhere, their cameras flashing in my face. “Mr. Harrows! Is it true you’re the other man who broke up Seraphina Steinberg and her fiancé?” “Your sex tape is all over the internet! Why would you cheat on a woman like Ms. Steinberg with a sugar mama?” “We heard you were injured down there. Was it a client? Will it affect your… performance?” I tried to back away, but they swarmed me, laughing, taunting. One of them even tried to pull down my pants to “get a look.” They were like vultures, jeering as I stumbled and fell, clutching my chest, struggling to breathe. “Look at him, playing the victim again. Is that how you sell yourself, Harrows? Is that the type of thing these rich ladies go for?” “Check out the hickey on his neck. Must have been a wild night.” “Did he piss himself? Your pants are all wet!” They shoved me, pushing their cameras closer to film the fluid still seeping from my surgical wound. 3 I curled into a ball on the cold pavement, shaking. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, and I sobbed, the sound raw and humiliating. The villa gates swung open, and the reporters scattered like roaches. The butler stood there, his face a stone mask. I was left alone, a pathetic, broken heap on the ground. Staggering into the courtyard, I saw Lisa running towards me, her eyes wide and tearful. For a fleeting, hopeful second, she looked like the little girl I knew, the one before Joey had poisoned her mind. “My kite… it’s stuck in the tree…” Her voice was small and sad. Forgetting my own pain, I immediately followed her. But as I pulled on the kite string, a massive, buzzing hornet’s nest dropped from the branches, right onto my head. Lisa was already a safe distance away, laughing. “You stupid idiot!” she screamed, her face twisted with malice. “That’s for using me to get to my mommy! You deserve it!” A swarm of angry hornets enveloped me. Stinging fire erupted all over my exposed skin. I trembled, trying desperately to shield my face as a thousand tiny needles pierced me. Purple welts rose on my skin, and the shock slowly turned into a heart-shattering numbness. I remembered all those sleepless nights, walking the floors with a crying infant Lisa in my arms. The memory was now just a cruel joke. A peal of laughter echoed from above. Seraphina stood on the second-floor balcony, Joey’s arm wrapped around her waist, both of them watching my torment with amusement. “Look at him, Sera,” Joey chuckled. “He looks like a pig’s head.” He raised his voice to mock me. “Hey, Kevin! Think any of your rich old ladies will want you looking like that? I doubt anyone could stomach it.” The woman who used to fret over a paper cut was now watching me covered in stings, a satisfied smile on her face. This must have been what she wanted all along—to see me humiliated by my own daughter, branded a whore by the press. Numbly, I tried to get back to my room to treat the stings, to just lie down. But my belongings were piled in a heap outside the door to the small utility closet. Seraphina looked at me with pure disgust. “Trash belongs with the trash. You have some nerve, Kevin, still hanging around my house.” My eyelashes fluttered. “You forgot,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “I have to watch you get married.” A flicker of confusion, maybe even unease, crossed her face. She hadn’t expected that. She expected tears, pleading. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by her customary sneer. “I’m just worried you’ll stick around like a stray dog even after the wedding.” My face was a mask. After your heart has been shattered, the smaller cuts barely register. Once the ninety-nine debts are paid, I won’t linger for a second. A wife and daughter who despise me? They are no longer mine. I just wanted to rest, but the door to my miserable little room swung open. It was Joey, a smug smile on his face. “Kevin, old pal. Sera tells me you’re a fantastic cook. I’m craving some turtle soup. You know, to build up my strength.” Seraphina, seeing the angry red welts covering my body, actually frowned for a moment. A flicker of something—pity? guilt?—crossed her features. She almost seemed to think she’d gone too far. “He’s not a servant, Joey. I’ll have the chef make it.” But Joey just tightened his arm around her waist. “He’s going to be mooching off us after we’re married anyway. Might as well get him used to his new role.” I took a deep breath, about to refuse. “Didn’t you hear what Joey said?” Seraphina’s voice was sharp, all traces of softness gone. “Get moving or get out of my sight forever.” I couldn’t leave. Not yet. So I clenched my jaw and nodded. Fighting the agonizing itch of the stings, I stood in the kitchen, mechanically washing the ingredients. Joey leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on his face. “Hurry it up. My… happiness with Seraphina tonight depends on you.” I bit my lip. “Is there anything else, Mr. Steinberg?” “Who do you think you are, putting on that righteous act?” He suddenly grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the sink. “Does a bedwarmer like you get to look at me with those eyes?” As I struggled, I knocked over a glass of water. Seraphina rushed in at the sound. Joey was already cradling his hand, hissing in pain. “Kevin’s jealous I’m marrying you! He threw boiling water on me!” “I didn’t—” Before I could finish, Seraphina’s palm cracked across my face. She looked at me, her eyes like ice. “Apologize.” A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I lowered my gaze, my voice dull. “It was my fault. Please forgive me, Mr. Steinberg.” Only then did Seraphina seem satisfied. She wrapped her arm around Joey’s and led him away. “Joey and I are going to pick up Lisa. Have dinner ready when we get back.” I was chopping vegetables when my phone rang. It was the hospital. “Are you Mr. Harrows? You’re listed as Seraphina Steinberg’s emergency contact. She’s been in a car accident. She needs surgery.” My mind flashed back. There was a time Seraphina loved hiking. Once, after a small landslide, I couldn’t reach her, her phone going straight to voicemail. I had run out of the house barefoot, frantic with worry, searching for her in the hills. 4 When she finally came home, safe and sound, she had found me, my feet bloody and torn. Her eyes had filled with tears as she cleaned my wounds. That night, she made me her sole emergency contact, promising that I would always be the first to know if anything ever happened to her. She never changed it. But everything else had. Lisa needed a blood transfusion, but the hospital was out of her rare O-negative type. My type. I watched them draw bag after bag of my blood until my lips were white and I was on the verge of passing out. Seraphina’s injuries were far more severe. Her liver was ruptured. She needed a transplant, and the waiting list was long. I didn’t want to wait. I had my bone marrow tested. I was a match. I insisted on being a living donor. The doctors argued, they warned me of the risks, but faced with my unyielding resolve, they finally, reluctantly, agreed. For the next month, I lay in a hospital bed, recovering. And every single day, all I heard were the glowing news reports about the heroic Joey Steinberg, who had so selflessly donated a part of his liver to save the love of his life. I had asked the doctors to keep my identity a secret. I never imagined someone would have the audacity to steal the credit. By the time I was discharged, the wedding was the next day. The Steinberg villa was draped in white silk and flowers. The moment I walked through the door, a teacup shattered at my feet. Lisa stood there, her face puffy with anger. “You dirty thing! You finally decided to come home!” she screamed. “Mommy was right! You just abandoned us!” Joey swept her into a gentle embrace, then fixed me with a look of disappointment. “Kevin. The moment Sera and Lisa were in trouble, you vanished. Now that they’re safe, you come crawling back.” Every word was a carefully aimed dart, painting me as the coward who had abandoned his family. Hearing him, Seraphina’s face hardened, and she shot me a look of pure disgust. “Just like your disgusting mother. The second you thought I was in real trouble, you ran off to screw someone else. Are you back because you’re afraid I’ll take revenge on you and your new lover?” She turned to Joey, her eyes soft with adoration. “While Joey was giving blood for Lisa and donating his liver for me, you were God knows where, with God knows who. I was right about you all along, Kevin. You’re a heartless, back-stabbing snake.” Their accusations no longer had the power to make me cry. I just felt… tired. On the day of the wedding, I tried to make myself invisible, hiding in a dark corner of the grand hall. But I could still feel the guests’ eyes on me, hear their whispers. “Is that him? The lover she kept for six years?” “I heard she doted on him. Why not marry him after the kid was born?” “Lover? Please. He was a toy. Something to pass the time. His sex tape is everywhere. God knows how many rich women have had a piece of him.” I tried to tune them out. But a moment later, one of Joey’s groomsmen approached me. “Mr. Steinberg needs you to help with his tie.” I was dragged towards the dressing room, the unhealed incision in my side protesting with a dull ache. When Lisa saw me approach, she scowled. “You’re so clumsy! Don’t you dare hurt him!” Seraphina stroked her daughter’s hair. “Our Lisa is such a good girl.” The three of them were a perfect, happy family, leaving me to stand awkwardly to the side. I knelt down and began to polish Joey’s expensive leather shoes. He smiled, rolling up his sleeve, revealing a delicate silver chain bracelet with a tiny bell that chimed softly. “Lisa said this brings good luck,” he said, his voice casual. My blood ran cold. My vision tunneled. It was my mother’s. The last thing she gave me before she died. I had searched for it everywhere. And all this time, Lisa had it, and she had given it to him. I clenched my jaw, my voice a dry rasp. “That’s mine.” Joey’s eyes immediately welled with tears. “Kevin, how can you do this to me? On my wedding day? Are you trying to slander me even now?” he whimpered. “I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t be marrying Seraphina!” He “accidentally” kicked out, his shoe grinding down on the back of my hand before I could pull it away. I fell back onto the floor. Lisa glared at me. “You made Joey upset! You deserve it!” Seraphina rushed to comfort him, her voice a soft coo. She glanced at me, at my numb, expressionless face, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. Was she wondering why I wasn’t crying? You can’t bleed from a heart that’s already turned to stone. I stood in the shadows, watching as Lisa presented them with the diamond-encrusted wedding rings. I watched as Joey lifted the veil and pressed his lips to Seraphina’s in a deep, passionate kiss. “I, Seraphina Steinberg,” she declared, her voice ringing through the hall, “take Joey to be my husband, for the rest of my life.” On my arm, the faint, crimson mark that symbolized the life-debt faded away, disappearing into my skin. The ceremony was over. The debt was paid. As the guests erupted in applause, I turned and walked away. Behind me, I heard Lisa’s sweet, childish voice pipe up. “I love having Joey as my daddy!” Their love was no longer mine. And I was finally going home. Later, as Seraphina was toasting with her guests, Joey’s arm around her waist, she found her eyes drifting to the dark corner where Kevin had been standing. The familiar silhouette was gone. He’s probably hiding somewhere, crying, she thought. No matter how much she hurt him, he would never have the strength to actually leave. She smiled and took a sip of champagne. Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a friend who had just returned from a trip abroad. “Sera? I just saw your little boy-toy at the airport. Where’s he off to?”

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1 On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé, Adrian McLynn, fell from a building and died. Everyone expected me, his devoted partner, to follow him in death. But I didn’t shed a single tear. Three years later, I saw him again. Not only was he alive, but he claimed to have amnesia. “So, you’re my former fiancée?” he sneered, looking me up and down. “It’s been a few years. You’ve let yourself go. Tell you what, out of respect for our old relationship, I can set aside one day a week for you. An opportunity to serve me.” I didn’t even bother to look at him. What Adrian didn’t know was that on the night he “died,” I received a video. What he knew even less was that during the three years he spent faking amnesia and traveling the world with another woman, I had gotten married. To his older brother. I stood outside the private room, unnoticed. Inside, someone’s voice cut through the boisterous laughter. “Adrian, it’s been three years. What are you going to do about Katherine?” Adrian’s voice was nonchalant. “Three years have passed, what’s the rush? I’ll deal with it after I marry Nina.” A chorus of snickers followed. “I’m telling you, that Katherine has some nerve. Seeing Adrian again after all this time, she’s probably going to stand there like an idiot.” “I heard she’s had a rough few years. See? Without Adrian, her life is just a pile of shit.” The room was thick with their cruel amusement, their mockery undisguised. I was about to turn and leave when someone spotted me. “Katherine!?” Suddenly, all eyes were on me. The one who had been laughing the loudest now scratched his head awkwardly, trying to smooth things over. “Katherine, uh, Adrian’s alive. We didn’t tell you because… he has amnesia. We didn’t want to shock you.” I shot them a look of disgust. Before I could speak, Adrian gave me a thorough, condescending once-over. “So, you’re my fiancée, huh? You look… pathetic. They tell me your life went downhill fast after I was gone.” He was still the same arrogant man. But the tolerance I once had for him had curdled into a deep, weary revulsion. Seeing my silence, Adrian wasn’t annoyed. He lazily pulled Nina into his arms, his finger tracing circles on her lips. Nina giggled, capturing his hand and shooting me a triumphant, challenging glare. “Katherine, it’s been three years. Look at you. No wonder Adrian forgot you. Who would remember someone like this?” My jaw clenched, my hands balling into fists. Their brazen display was nauseating. Adrian, however, misinterpreted my reaction as jealousy. He looked pleased with himself. “Come on, don’t be so possessive,” he said with a smirk. “If you want to be with me, you’ll have to get used to this arrangement. Don’t worry. I’ll make time for you one day a week.” At his words, the others swarmed me, their voices a mix of pity and condescension. “See, Katherine? Adrian still has a soft spot for you! Even with amnesia, he’s making room for you in his schedule!” “Just play your cards right, keep Adrian and Nina happy, and your life will be a lot better than it is now. Look at yourself. You must be tired of being a charity case. This is your chance!” Nina lounged on the sofa, her long legs draped over the coffee table, her body pressed against Adrian’s. She clicked her tongue. “Sorry, Katherine, but you’ll have to be patient. I’m the one he loves most now.” Adrian let out a smug chuckle. He admired Nina’s freshly manicured nails and spared me a dismissive glance. “What’s she got to be patient about? She’s obsessed with me. She should be grateful I’m giving her one day.” His words struck a raw nerve. The man before me was a stranger. Years ago, he had loved me so fiercely. I remembered a time I had a raging fever, 104 degrees, that wouldn’t break for days. He dropped everything to stay by my side, and then he drove to the old monastery on Mount Sterling, climbed all nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine steps on his knees, praying at each one, to bring me back a charm for my health. When he returned, his forehead was bruised and bleeding, his knees raw and bloody. I was speechless with heartache, calling him a fool. But he had cupped my face in his hands, his touch so tender. “As long as you’re safe and healthy,” he’d whispered, “my life is a small price to pay.” The memories were so vivid, but the man was gone. 2 It was terrifying how much a person could change. I suppressed the turmoil in my heart and met Adrian’s gaze. I held up my hand, flashing my wedding ring, and kept my voice as steady as I could. “You have the wrong person.” “And I’m already married.” The room fell silent. Everyone exchanged confused glances, and then the silence erupted into a roar of laughter. Adrian raised an eyebrow, unconcerned. He glanced at my ring. “Married? To who? A pizza delivery guy?” He sneered. “Look at you. You probably bought that ring at a dollar store. What, you thought this would jog my memory?” He shot up from his seat, lunged forward, and ripped the ring from my finger. I was exhausted from a long week on a demanding project and couldn’t react in time. Nina took the ring and examined it, then burst out laughing. “Adrian, this looks just like that pair of ‘Eternity’s Heart’ rings your brother won at that auction in Paris three years ago.” She looked at me sideways, tossing the ring in her hand. “Don’t tell me the person Katherine married is… your brother, Maxwell?” The room buzzed with renewed amusement. The idea was too absurd. Maxwell McLynn was the current heir to the McLynn empire, a ruthless, decisive man feared throughout the business world—an untouchable ice king. Three years ago, he had suddenly married a mysterious woman and, by all accounts, was utterly devoted to her. The media had been trying for three years to uncover any information about his wife and son, but they had found nothing. “Katherine, you’re not going to tell us you’re the mysterious woman no one’s been able to identify for three years, are you?” Nina tossed the ring into the air again. It caught the light, glinting brightly. “You know, I have to admit, it’s a pretty good fake. Where’d you get it made?” The relentless mockery was getting on my nerves. “Don’t touch my ring. It’s real…” Before I could finish, Adrian’s hand cracked across my face. The sting was sharp and immediate. “Katherine, have you lost your mind? Spreading rumors about my brother? Everyone knows how much he loves my sister-in-law. I haven’t even met her, and you have the audacity to impersonate her? Who do you think you are?!” I licked my dry lips and slowly turned my head to meet his eyes. My glare must have been unnerving because he flinched. Seeing this, Nina jumped to his defense, jabbing a finger at my face. “How could you be so heartless, Katherine? Adrian offered you one day a week! Not only are you ungrateful, but now you’re impersonating his sister-in-law? Everyone in our circle knows that Maxwell’s wife is his one weakness. Are you trying to get him to take his anger out on Adrian? You’re a venomous bitch!” Her words struck me with a strange sense of clarity. Once, Nina had been my rival, constantly trying to one-up me, to turn Adrian against me. Back then, he had never believed her. He had even punished her for her malicious lies. Now, the man who had once been my greatest defender was standing with her. He took her hand and then threw a wad of cash in my face. “Alright, stop the act. For old times’ sake, I’ll let it go. You look like you need it. This should last you a month.” The sharp corner of a bill cut my cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. I ignored it, my eyes locked on Adrian. A flicker of guilt, of panic, crossed his face. I let out a short, cold laugh and bent down. The guilt on his face vanished, replaced by a familiar sneer. “I thought you had more pride than that…” His words died in his throat. As he stared, stunned, I sifted through the pile of red bills and found my ring. He snapped out of his shock and blocked my way as I tried to leave. “What are you still pretending for? Any one of those bills is worth more than a hundred of your pathetic rings!” His expression was a complex mix of emotions, but underneath it all, I saw a flash of anger. I ignored him and slapped his hand away. His hand froze in mid-air, and he ground his teeth. “Fine. You’ve gotten bold. I guess poverty does give you a temper. In three days, Nina and I are getting married. My brother will be back in the country for it, and he’s bringing my mysterious sister-in-law with him. If you have the guts, show up!” 3 At the mention of the wedding, Nina’s eyes lit up. “She probably won’t come,” she chimed in. “She’ll be too scared of being exposed.” I had no desire to engage with them any longer. I turned and strode out, tossing a final comment over my shoulder. “I’ll be there in three days. I hope you’re just as confident then.” Stepping out of the club and into the fresh air, the nausea that had been churning in my stomach finally began to subside. I took out my phone and watched the video again, the one I had received three years ago. On the screen, a man held Nina close, his smile lazy and wild. “Katherine is just so… boring,” he was saying. “I love her, sure, but she can’t give me the excitement I need. This ‘death’ is just a little break. I’ll go back when I’ve had my fun. She’s the type you settle down with. But with a stunt like this, knowing her, she might actually try to kill herself. You guys better keep an eye on her.” The day I received his death certificate, I had considered ending it all. It was his friends who had stopped me, begging me not to do something so foolish. Looking back now, I realized their twisted, tear-stained faces were just masks, hiding their laughter. I put my phone away and looked up at the dim, yellow streetlights. Whether Adrian McLynn was dead or alive, he had ceased to exist for me three years ago. Three days later, I arrived at the wedding. The moment Adrian saw me walk in, the tension in his shoulders visibly eased. I averted my gaze and calmly made my way to a seat, but someone tripped me. I stumbled, crashing into the nine-tiered wedding cake. Icing, decorations, and layers of cake came tumbling down, covering my expensive gown in a sticky, sweet mess. I was a disaster. A wine glass shattered, and a shard of glass sliced my cheek, blood welling up at my temple. The hall erupted in gasps. All eyes were on me. Icing blurred my vision. I struggled to get up, but before I could find my footing, someone shoved me back down. Nina’s furious voice came from above. “Katherine, what the hell is your problem? We were kind enough to invite you, and you don’t even bring a gift. Now you’re deliberately ruining our wedding? You just can’t stand to see us happy, can you?!” The wedding was packed, mostly with people hoping to get a glimpse of Maxwell and his mysterious wife. They were all eager to curry favor with his younger brother. “The nerve of some people! Messing with Adrian McLynn at his own wedding. She’ll get what’s coming to her.” “Hey, look at the ring on her hand. Doesn’t that look like the ‘Eternity’s Heart’ Maxwell paid a fortune for three years ago? How dare she!” “Everyone knows how protective Maxwell is of his wife. To show up here, flaunting a fake like that… she must have a death wish.” Adrian heard the murmurs, and his chest heaved with rage. His eyes looked like they were about to shoot fire. “Katherine, you’re a curse! I must have been blind to ever fall for you. And you’re still wearing that fake ring? Are you waiting for my brother to deal with you personally?!” He strode toward me and brought his foot down hard on my left hand, grinding his heel into my ring finger. A searing pain shot through my hand. My fingers felt like they were on fire, and a thousand tiny knives stabbed at my heart. When I tried to struggle, Nina shouted for the others to hold me down. I was pinned, unable to move. Icing obscured my vision, and I thrashed helplessly. Finally, I screamed, my voice raw with fury, “Maxwell is my husband!” Adrian roared with laughter, as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. He twisted his foot, the sharp point of his dress shoe threatening to snap my finger in two. “Still trying to pass yourself off as her? Just wait until my brother gets here. Let’s see what you have to say then! He adores my sister-in-law. You’re dead.” Seeing that he was completely unreachable, I felt a wave of despair. I fought against the hands holding me down, but they were too strong. I grit my teeth. When this was over, I wouldn’t let a single one of them off the hook. Adrian pressed down again. I heard a sickening crack. A pained grunt escaped my lips, and then, suddenly, the weight on me was gone. The crowd had released me. They were all scrambling to their feet, smoothing their clothes, their eyes fixed on the entrance. The ballroom doors swung open. And there, like a king entering his court, was Maxwell, holding our son.

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1 I was mindlessly scrolling online when a post caught my eye. 【I accidentally broke my boss’s fiancée’s bracelet. How do I get away with it?】 In the comments, the original poster was relentlessly showing off how special her boss treated her. 【The bracelet broke while he and I were… you know, getting intimate. I wanted to try something new.】 【He told me the beads on this thing are supposed to be a lucky charm, so he wanted me to carry it with me always.】 【He said I don’t have to pay for it, but I feel bad. Does anyone know where I can buy another one?】 Attached was a photo of a faded Kynam agarwood bracelet. It looked familiar. Trying to be helpful, I commented: 【Bracelets like that go for at least a million on the market. You should probably just apologize.】 A second later, she replied with disdain: 【A million? Honey, even if it were ten million, he would never let me apologize for anything.】 【He doesn’t even like his fiancée. I’m his true love.】 I clicked on her profile, only to find that the “boss” she was talking about was my fiancé. Her reply just struck me as bizarre. Zero people cared who her boss was in love with. My focus was on the bracelet. The Kynam bracelet my grandfather gave me was a near-perfect match to the one in the photo, in both size and quality. It was just clear the poster hadn’t taken care of it; the rich color had faded significantly. In the time it took for my silence to register, a mountain of comments had already piled up beneath hers. 【OP, you must not be from Brookhaven. Her company is the biggest player in the city.】 【Fumbling intern and the top-of-the-food-chain CEO? I ship it.】 【Who should apologize to whom is still up in the air. President Blackwood is known for spoiling his favorites.】 A few of those words sent a shiver down my spine. Because I happened to know a “President Blackwood” in Brookhaven. My fiancé, Vincent Blackwood. I navigated to the poster’s homepage. The background image was, unmistakably, my family’s corporate headquarters. My father, impressed by Vincent’s ambition, had sent him to manage the Brookhaven branch, putting him under my nominal command in the hopes that we’d grow closer. I just had no idea that in a few short months, my own company had apparently changed hands. If Vincent was her secret lover, then it was painfully obvious whose bracelet it was. Seeing my property desecrated like this, and the culprit showing not a shred of remorse, was infuriating. I suppressed the fire rising in my chest and clicked back into the thread. 【Since when does Vincent Blackwood call all the shots? That’s news to me.】 【Forget you apologizing—Vincent himself is going to have to make a personal apology for this.】 【Is this the new trend? Homewreckers being this proud and loud about it?】 My comments clearly struck a nerve. She was instantly incensed, firing back with a volley of photos and a tone dripping with arrogance. 【It’s just a million. My boss’s car is worth over ten million.】 【See this diamond? He just won it at an auction a few days ago. He said he’s having it made into our wedding ring.】 【How can some no-name nobody even compare to my boss?】 I clicked open the images. They were all my things, items I’d left behind in Brookhaven. I’d been in a rush to go abroad a few months ago, and bringing everything was too much of a hassle. Before I left, I’d asked Vincent to keep an eye on them for me. I never imagined he’d use them all to woo someone else. As her posts grew more and more heated, a cold smile touched my lips. I pulled out my phone and dialed Vincent’s number. It rang for nearly a minute before he picked up. His voice was clipped. “I’m in a meeting. Whatever it is, we can talk later.” Before I could say a word, the dial tone buzzed in my ear. But in the next second, I refreshed the thread and saw a new reply from her. It was a screenshot of a voice call, the timer already at thirty minutes. 【The boss has been on the phone calming me down this whole time. He even hung up on his fiancée for me~】 Seeing her provocation, I didn’t reply again. Not because I was hurt, but because I had already arrived at the foot of the office building. He still hadn’t read the message I sent him yesterday. Compared to the attentive, cautious man he used to be, Vincent had certainly changed these past few months. I’d chalked it up to the pressures of his promotion, never guessing he was just busy doting on his little mistress. With another cold smile, I called him again. The moment he answered, I spoke first. “I’m at the front door. I don’t care what you’re doing, but I’m giving you two choices.” “You can either come down now and personally escort me in.” “Or, I, as the Chairwoman, can have the front desk inform you that you’ve been summoned.” 2 I didn’t get Vincent. I got Corinne. She sashayed out of the president’s private elevator, her eyes raking over me from head to toe with undisguised contempt. “Ms. Heffner, is it? President Blackwood is in a meeting. You can just come with me.” As she spoke, Corinne’s gaze landed on my dress. The receptionist nearby, quick on the uptake, chimed in, “Corinne, is that a new dress? I bet the President just bought it for you. It’s different from the one you wore this morning.” A delighted grin spread across Corinne’s face. “I only mentioned it offhandedly yesterday. I can’t believe he actually bought it for me today.” The two of them went on, a perfect duet of sycophantic praise, quickly forgetting I was even there. I finally looked up from my phone, my gaze slowly drifting over to Corinne. The tell-tale marks on her neck were vivid, and she made no effort to conceal them. Connecting that to the “getting intimate” she’d mentioned in her post, I knew exactly what had been going on. “I believe I asked for Vincent to come down personally. Is he—” Before I could finish, Corinne cut me off. “President Blackwood is a very busy man. He doesn’t have time for unimportant people.” Her tone was dismissive. “Whatever you have to say, you can just tell me. I’ll pass it along.” The moment the words left her mouth, the crowd of gossiping onlookers murmured in agreement. “Yeah, even though Corinne’s just an intern, her full-time position is a sure thing. The President himself transferred her to be his personal secretary.” “President Blackwood said that what Corinne wants, he wants. We’re all supposed to listen to her.” “If just anyone could demand to see the President, he’d work himself to death.” One by one, they painted me as the one who was being unreasonable. I just arched an eyebrow, my expression unreadable. President Blackwood? Since when was Vincent the president of anything? Corinne, however, mistook my silence for fear. Her eyes darted around before she whipped out her phone. “I’ve been looking after that bracelet of yours. I’ve been spritzing it with my best perfume every day to keep it nice. You can just reimburse me for the cost.” “I’m sorry?” I frowned, not quite catching what she said. She took my expression as a refusal and her voice sharpened into a threat. “That’s the perfume President Blackwood bought me. It’s a four-figure bottle. I barely use it on myself.” When her words finally registered, I was stunned. Not because the perfume was expensive, but because she’d been spraying it on the bracelet. Agarwood is porous; it absorbs scents. Spraying it with perfume is like using a fine wine to clean your floors. It ruins it. Especially since the fragrance Vincent had chosen was one I personally despised; the bottle was still sitting in my room, collecting dust. As Corinne spoke, she leaned closer, and the cloying scent of cheap fragrance immediately assaulted my senses, making me feel sick. I took an imperceptible step back, but she thought I was trying to flee. “Stop right there!” she barked. “You’re not trying to skip out on the bill, are you?” I straightened up, composing myself. Just as I raised my hand, a cold voice cut through the lobby from behind me. “Aurora, even if you are my fiancée, you can’t just bully my secretary in public.” Vincent, having rushed down after my call, stood there, pulling Corinne protectively behind him. He looked at me, his brow furrowed in a tight, disapproving knot. Never mind that our “engagement” was just a casual suggestion from my father that was never even finalized. And never mind that I wouldn’t be caught dead with a piece of trash like Vincent. “Your secretary?” I let out a short, sharp laugh, my eyes sliding to him. “Since when did I approve Corinne’s promotion?” “You damage my property, and now you want me to pay for it?” “I had no idea my company was hiring morons of this caliber.” 3 My words made Vincent’s face flash through several shades of anger and embarrassment. He clearly didn’t want to make a bigger scene, so he reined in his aggressive tone. “I’ll pay for whatever she broke. Corinne is a very diligent worker, she—” Before Vincent could finish his defense, Corinne had had enough. She snatched the bracelet from her purse and hurled it onto the marble floor. “Here, take it back! I wouldn’t want this cheap piece of junk anyway.” Her action made my pupils constrict. My expression turned to ice. “Pick it up.” Corinne froze, about to retort, but a glance at Vincent’s stony silence made her reconsider. Her eyes reddened as she reluctantly bent down. The moment I saw her hands touch the bracelet, I remembered her post—about how it was broken while they were “getting intimate.” A wave of nausea washed over me. “That Kynam agarwood bracelet cost me three million. You can figure out how you’re going to compensate me.” I had barely finished speaking when Corinne’s little sycophant friend, who was helping her up, let out a snort of derision. “Three million? I thought it was something expensive. Corinne is wearing single pieces that are worth dozens of your cheap bracelet.” Even Corinne herself seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. She pulled out her phone again, her voice full of arrogance. Before she could speak, I tilted my head and held out a hand. “My apologies. I forgot we operate on different scales.” “I meant three million dollars. I wonder how Ms. Corinne intends to pay.” At the mention of the price, I saw the hand holding her phone tremble slightly. She stared at the beads in her palm in disbelief, her voice a shriek. “How could it possibly be worth three million? It’s just a string of wooden beads!” Corinne examined the bracelet over and over, then forced herself to look calm. I watched as she exited the payment app and opened a shopping app instead. After a moment, she let out a breath and brandished her phone screen for everyone to see. On the screen of some bargain-bin shopping app, an identical-looking bracelet was listed for $9.99. I gave Corinne a look that was hard to put into words. This person must have dropped on her head as a child. Who didn’t know these platforms were flooded with fakes? Noticing her search history, I offered a helpful tip. “It’s Kynam agarwood. Not ‘wooden bead bracelet.’” Vincent’s bravado had vanished the moment I said “three million.” Everything he had bought for Corinne had been charged to my supplementary card. Though we had the title of an engaged couple, I had always kept our finances strictly separate. Every expense was tallied, and every personal purchase was deducted from his salary. On the surface, Vincent was the “top-of-the-food-chain CEO.” In reality, he was just an employee. I was the one making the real decisions; he was just the messenger. Seeing Vincent’s silence, Corinne started to panic. She tried to maintain her composure and shut off her phone. “I don’t care if it’s three hundred or three million, President Blackwood will pay for me,” she declared. “He’s a rising star in this industry. You think he’s short on a little cash like that?” Corinne’s arrogance was clearly a well-practiced routine. She pointed a finger at the company name emblazoned across the lobby wall. “The ground you’re standing on belongs to President Blackwood’s company. And this is just Brookhaven.” “He already told me he has no feelings for you. He’s going to end the engagement soon and be with me.”

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Sofia was my college girlfriend—or rather, the girl I paid to date me. Though I never treated her as a plaything, that’s how others saw us. No one believed a rich kid would truly love someone from her world. Then I dumped her without explanation. Years later, we met again—I was a masseur at a luxury spa, and she, now a millionaire, booked me for a private session. After graduation, my family went bankrupt. My father fled with his mistress. That same year, I killed a man in “excessive self-defense” and served two years in prison. Inside, an old inmate taught me therapeutic massage. Now, at the spa, former socialites who once chased me book sessions just to humiliate me. I endure it—I need the money. Today, as I was about to leave, the manager called: “Jason, VIP Suite 888. A major client requested you. Nail this, and you might not need to work all year.” “On my way.” I grabbed the kit I’d just packed up, a knot of apprehension tightening in my gut. The wealthier the client, the higher the chance they were a creep. Just this morning, I’d had a session with a woman who had to be over four hundred pounds. She’d periodically slap me across the face as I worked on her. A thousand dollars a slap. So, I endured it. I knocked on the door to 888. “Come in.” The voice was cool and young. I opened the door and saw a woman sitting on the living room sofa, dressed in a sleek black power suit. Her long hair cascaded loosely over her shoulders, a touch of languor that created a striking contrast with the sharp, professional lines of her attire. Her face was breathtaking. More beautiful than I remembered from college. She’d been gorgeous then, but with a lingering innocence. Now, she possessed the captivating allure of a woman in full bloom. It was her. Sofia. The girl I had “kept” in college. Back then, her world had fallen apart. Her father, a construction worker, had been seriously injured on a job site, but the contractor skipped town without paying a cent. Faced with suffocating medical bills, she’d considered dropping out of school. Her mother, however, insisted she stay, saying it would be a waste for the family’s brightest to quit. So, her underachieving younger brother dropped out instead and got a job at a bar. One night, some thug’s girlfriend looked at him a little too long, and the thug and his friends broke her brother’s legs. The shock sent her mother into a spiral, and she was hospitalized with a severe illness. Suddenly, the weight of her entire family landed on Sofia’s shoulders. It was a burden so heavy that a young college student saw only one way out: selling her body. The campus rumor mill painted me as a playboy with deep pockets. I had, in fact, tried to flirt with her once, but she’d turned me down. I left her alone after that; I was more talk than action, a smart-ass who liked to flirt but never pushed it. But then, she found me. In front of a crowd of people, she announced she would be my girlfriend, on one condition: I had to lend her five hundred thousand dollars. I agreed to the loan but told her she didn’t have to be my girlfriend. I wasn’t the kind of guy who took advantage of someone’s desperation. But the day I transferred the money, she showed up at my door. I was living in a sprawling penthouse I’d bought off-campus. It was raining, and the downpour had soaked her white blouse, making it cling to her. I wanted to look, but I didn’t have the nerve. I let her in, found her some dry clothes, and we sat in silence. She was the one who finally broke it. “Jason, until I pay back that five hundred thousand, I’m yours. When the debt is clear, you can give me my freedom back.” I wanted to tell her it was unnecessary, that the money meant less to me than what I’d spend tipping some streamer in a week. But I knew that would crush her pride. So instead, I said, “Then you can be my housekeeper.” From that day on, Sofia lived with me. She cooked my meals, managed my life, and even cleaned me up when I came home blind drunk. The girls who chased me were relentless, constantly harassing her, calling her a whore trying to claw her way into high society. She never told me about it, never defended herself. She just silently endured it. When I found out, I confronted them, telling them to back off. But that only made things worse for her. She’d get “accidentally” hit in the face with a basketball or “accidentally” shoved down a flight of stairs. I realized the more I protected her, the more she suffered. So I changed my strategy. I started treating her horribly, even announcing to a crowd that she was just a dog I kept, one I wouldn’t even let into my bed. After that, the physical “accidents” stopped, though she was still a target for vicious gossip. Then came the end. The company went bankrupt. My father fled with his mistress. I killed a man and went to prison. Before I was taken away, I did two things: I broke up with Sofia and signed the deed to the penthouse over to her as a “severance package.” And now, here we were, our roles completely reversed. I was no longer the profligate heir but a spa masseur, a profession one step away from being a gigolo. And Sofia was the CEO of a gaming company, a woman I had to look up to, both literally and figuratively. She saw me frozen in the doorway, a cold smile playing on her lips. “I hear that these days, you’ll do anything for the right price.” “Something like that,” I said, forcing down the tidal wave of emotions inside me. The taunts from my old friends had never truly hurt. But to be seen like this, like an ant beneath her shoe… that pain was real. It was sharp. Sofia nodded, pulling open the vintage Louis Vuitton bag at her side and casually tossing several thick stacks of cash onto the sofa. That bag… If I remembered correctly, it was a birthday present I had given her. She’d never once used it, saying it was too precious. Why did she still have it? “I hear your technique is quite good,” Sofia said suddenly. “Come and massage my feet.” I snapped back to the present and nodded. I prepared a basin of water, testing the temperature before carrying it over to her. Sofia lifted one leg, her stiletto-clad foot hovering in front of me. I pulled over the small stool used for foot treatments, but before I could sit, she kicked me squarely in the shoulder. “I believe you once told people that when I washed your feet, I did it on my knees. I’m not mistaken, am I?” She looked down at me, her gaze imperious. She wanted me to kneel before her. I had said those words, but only to protect her. The girls who pursued me came from families as wealthy as mine, some even wealthier. I had no real power over them. Belittling her was the only way I could think of to lessen her suffering. My heart throbbed. I wanted to explain, to tell her everything, but I held back. I was afraid she wouldn’t believe me, or worse, that she wouldn’t care. So, I dropped to one knee, reaching out to remove her high heel. Sofia kicked me again. “One knee?” she sneered. “Am I not paying enough?” She grabbed the cash and started flinging the stacks at my face. I stood there and took it. When she finally stopped, I looked her deep in the eyes. “If it makes you happy, I’ll kneel.” I lowered myself to both knees. A satisfied smile finally graced her lips, and she extended her foot again. I slipped off her shoe, carefully cradling her small, delicate foot in my hands. I used to steal glances at her feet, so small and pale, like they were carved from white jade. But I’d always been a coward, too afraid to even look for too long. “Test the water.” I scooped some water with my hand and gently dabbed it onto her perfect foot. She flinched, her elegant brow furrowing. “Is this how you provide a service?” I knew she was just trying to make things difficult. The temperature was perfect. But I didn’t argue. I just reached for the kettle to adjust it. Suddenly, she plunged both feet into the bamboo basin, splashing water all over my face and shirt. She stared at me, a cruel smirk on her face. “Jason, name your price. How much would it take for you to drink this water?” My heart seized again. I never imagined she could hate me this much. But then again, it made perfect sense. The old Sofia had been sensitive and fiercely proud. And I had publicly degraded her. If our roles were reversed, I would hate me too. God, I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell her it was all to protect her. But I couldn’t. I was afraid of her scorn. I was even more afraid that she might come back to me. If she dismissed my explanation, it would shatter what was left of my heart. And if she came back to me… did I even deserve her? I looked at her, my voice steady. “No charge. If it makes you happy.” I bent down, leaning over the foot basin like a dog lapping at a bowl. From an angle where I couldn’t see, her eyes reddened for a fleeting moment. Then she lifted her foot and kicked my shoulder, knocking me away. She burst into laughter. “Jason, have you completely lost your pride? ‘If it makes you happy?’ Or did you figure saying that would make me give you more money?” I stumbled back, landing hard on the floor. I couldn’t meet her eyes. She had no idea. No one else could trample on my dignity because, frankly, I didn’t care what they thought. But she was different. All it took was one scornful laugh from her, and my pride was already in a million pieces. I shook my head, saying nothing. Sofia beckoned to me with one finger. “Come here. On your knees.” I crawled back to her, kneeling so close. I had been this close to her once before, when she’d fallen asleep at her desk while coding late at night. I had wanted to steal a kiss, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Back then, I had leaned down to cover her with a blanket. Now, at the same distance, I had to look up at her, and she looked down at me as if I truly were a dog. Sofia tilted my chin up. “Jason, two years and you’ve become more… interesting. But why aren’t you smiling? You’re a gigolo. Is this how you treat your clients?” I couldn’t help but correct her. “Not a gigolo. A masseur.” Sofia laughed. “Is there a difference?” I didn’t argue further. I just forced a smile. She nodded, satisfied. “Begin.” How many times had I dreamed of holding these feet in my hands? But I never dared, afraid it would upset her. I figured no woman would want a man’s touch to be transactional. So I never crossed that line. I sympathized with her plight, admired her resilience, and respected her ambition. All of that coalesced into love. Or maybe I would have loved her anyway, without any of it. Why I loved her, what it was about her… I didn’t really know. I just did. In prison, the only thing that kept me going for two years was the thought of seeing her again, just once. The hell I endured in there would have been enough to kill me ten thousand times over otherwise. Thanks to the old-timer in my cell, my skills were excellent. For the rest of the foot massage, Sofia didn’t give me any more trouble. When the session was over, I dried her feet and carried the basin away. After tidying up, I managed another strained smile. “Ma’am, the foot treatment is complete. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be on my way.” I turned to leave without waiting for her reply. Yes, I was running. I was even ready to quit my job. Because this, being stripped of all my dignity in front of her, was the one thing I couldn’t bear. “Stop.” “Did I say you could leave?” Her voice came from behind me, sharp and cold. I knew it. She wasn’t going to let me off that easily. I hesitated for a moment, then turned back to face her and let out a long sigh. Under her amused gaze, I dropped to my knees again, a self-deprecating smile on my face. “I admit it. I said a lot of things that hurt you, and I apologize. If you can’t accept my apology, then please, punish me all at once. Get it over with, and then just… let me go. Can you do that?” A complex expression flickered across her face. She stood up and walked toward me, barefoot. Her fingers found the gap between the buttons of my shirt and she gave a slight tug. “Get up.” I rose, following the gentle pressure, but I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Jason, am I stupid?” she asked. I was taken aback. I shook my head. If she were stupid, how could she have built a multi-million-dollar empire? I had no idea why she was asking me that. She didn’t seem to expect an answer. Instead, she walked toward the plush king-sized bed. “Just my feet isn’t enough. Give me a full-body spa treatment.” She sat on the edge of the bed and then gracefully lay on her side, her body forming a breathtaking curve. “Jason, I asked the manager about you,” she said, her tone laced with mockery. “He said your patron this morning, the four-hundred-pound one, was praising your ‘Golden Fingers.’” “So let me see for myself. Show me just how much pleasure a gigolo like you can give a woman.” Then, right in front of me, she began to remove her clothes, piece by piece.

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On the day I was supposed to get married, my best friend’s mother told everyone I’d been a sugar baby in college. That I’d had an abortion. When I found out, my first instinct was to call the cops. But everyone, everyone, told me to focus on the wedding. To not stoop to the level of a gossiping old hag. Then I learned that someone at her table was live-streaming the reception. The rumor spread like wildfire. My mother-in-law believed it. She forced my husband to divorce me. An anonymous complaint was filed at my job, and I was fired. My parents, unable to show their faces in our small town, disowned me. The blows came one after another, and I fell into a deep depression. I jumped to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back on my wedding day. … “Hold on,” I said, stopping the makeup artist’s brush mid-air. I lowered my head and grabbed my phone. It didn’t take long to find the live stream. I clicked the link, and the voices of several middle-aged women filled the room. “So what does the groom’s family do? This is quite the fancy setup.” “I hear they’re in the hotel business. Own a bunch of properties. You have to hand it to Jane, she really knows how to play her cards. She’s pretty, sure, but her real talent is wrapping men around her little finger.” I turned the volume up, and the sound from my phone’s speaker cut through the quiet of the bridal suite, catching the attention of my bridesmaids. One of them leaned in. “Fiona,” she gasped, recognizing a face on the screen. “That’s your mom.” Fiona rushed over, just in time to hear her mother, Rose, continue her tirade. “Honestly, our Fiona is prettier than Jane, but she just doesn’t have those… vixen’s tricks. Jane’s so well-endowed for a reason, you know. All those men… She was a born seductress. Dating boys in elementary school, a rich man’s plaything in college. She’d do anything for money, sleep with anyone. Had a few abortions, too. Oh, what a shame.” Fiona’s face went bone-white. “Jane, don’t listen to her,” she stammered. “She’s just talking nonsense. I’ll go out there right now and make her stop.” But before Fiona could move, I shot up from my chair and stormed toward the door, my wedding dress rustling around me. Fiona grabbed my arm. “Jane, don’t! It’s your wedding day! I’ll handle it. I’ll make sure she doesn’t say another word, I promise.” My other friends chimed in, echoing her plea. The bride couldn’t just march out before the ceremony started, it would look terrible. “Yeah, Jane, just hang in there,” Fiona said, her face a mask of sincerity, as if she truly had my best interests at heart. “You know my mom, her mouth runs faster than her brain. I’ll go give her a piece of my mind. After today, I’ll make her apologize to you personally. Don’t let her ruin your big day.” In my last life, I didn’t find out from a live stream. A relative, disgusted by the gossip, had come to tell me in hushed tones. And I had listened to them. I had endured it. But the next day, before Fiona could drag her mother over for a half-hearted apology, the story was already everywhere. That one rumor cost me my husband, my parents, and my career. It pushed me until I broke. And through it all, Rose never once spoke up to say she’d lied. Reborn, there was no way I was letting it go. After all, I knew which was more important: a wedding, or my life. I ignored Fiona and strode out of the room. When I reached Rose’s table, she was still deep in the sordid details of my supposed abortion. “She was still in college, of course she couldn’t let her parents know. She borrowed money from my Fiona. My girl has such a big heart, she stole from me to help her friend. That’s how I found out. And I know the boy’s mother, too. I checked with her later. Her son really did knock Jane up.” “Aunt Rose, is that really true?” someone asked. “Mom! What the hell are you talking about?!” Fiona’s shriek and my sharp question echoed at the same time. Rose jumped, startled. She turned and saw me, her smile instantly awkward. But she recovered quickly, feigning ignorance. “Jane, honey, what are you doing out here already?” I stared at her, my face a canvas of pure shock. “Aunt Rose, is it true? Did I have an abortion in college? Did you see it with your own eyes?” What had been a quiet murmur at one table suddenly had an audience. My appearance, my raised voice—it drew every eye in the hall. Rose was flustered, suddenly at a loss for words. Fiona looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole. She tugged on her mother’s sleeve. “Mom. Apologize.” Rose stood up. “Jane, I’m sorry. You know me, I just talk without thinking.” My eyes widened in mock disbelief. “So you’re saying it’s true?” Before Rose could answer, my parents and my fiancé, Ethan, had rushed over. “Jane, what’s wrong?” my mother asked, taking my arm. “Whatever it is, we can talk about it calmly.” “Mom, Aunt Rose is telling everyone that I was promiscuous in college, that I got pregnant and had an abortion,” I said, my voice trembling with feigned horror. “But I don’t remember any of it! That man… he must have drugged me! It’s the only explanation!” My mother’s face instantly darkened. She glared at Rose. “Rose, what is the meaning of this? Spreading vile rumors at my daughter’s wedding?” Rose forced a laugh. “It was a mistake. I misspoke. I already apologized to Jane.” My mother turned back to me. “Jane, you know your Aunt Rose loves to gossip. She’s already said she’s sorry, just let it go.” My father added from behind me, “That’s right. Look at yourself. All our friends and family are here. No one’s going to believe such a ridiculous lie.” It wasn’t just my parents. Everyone started trying to smooth things over. Seeing the moment about to be swept under the rug, I let tears well in my eyes. “No, no, Aunt Rose told the story with such detail! How could it be fake? If I don’t remember it, it must have happened against my will! That man committed a crime! Aunt Rose, you have to tell me who he is! I’m calling the police!” The word “police” wiped the smile right off Rose’s face. “There’s no one!” she said quickly. “Fine, I made it all up, okay? Jane, it’s your wedding day. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have said those things. Let’s just… let this be my apology.” She raised her teacup. “I’ll drink to your happiness, and we’ll say no more about it. Just pretend I was lying. Okay?” She drained the cup in one gulp. Then she looked at me. “There. Are we good?” I just stared at her, my expression making it clear that we were not. Rose felt my displeasure. She clearly thought she, the elder, had already given me, the younger, enough face, and was annoyed by my persistence. She started to get up, muttering about how I’d ruined the mood and she should just leave. I shot out a hand and grabbed her arm. “No, Aunt Rose. You can’t just leave.” She looked at me, exasperated. “I’ve apologized! What more do you want? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg?” I narrowed my eyes. “Everyone heard what you said. Since you admit it was a lie, then you need to clear my name. Right now. Get up on that stage and tell everyone that you’re a malicious gossip and everything you just said was a complete fabrication from your own sick mind.” Rose’s face hardened. Apologizing in front of this small group was humiliating enough. Now I was trying to force her onto the stage. Her patience snapped. “Jane, I apologized to give you an out. Don’t you dare think what I said wasn’t true. Let sleeping dogs lie. You should take that advice to heart.” My grip on her arm tightened. “So it is true? Then tell me the man’s name. Otherwise, you made it all up, and I’m suing you for slander.” That did it. Rose was officially provoked. “His name is Nathan! And he was married at the time! Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that, too.” I froze for a split second. And in that same instant, Fiona’s face drained of all color. Rose didn’t notice her daughter’s strange reaction. She only saw mine and became instantly smug. “Remember now, do you?” Before I could speak, Fiona lurched forward, grabbing her mom’s arm and pulling her toward the exit. “Mom, you’ve gone too far! This is Jane’s wedding! We’re supposed to be friends! How are we ever supposed to face each other after this?” “What are you so afraid of?” Rose snapped back, shaking her off. “I gave the little brat a chance to save face, and she threw it back at me. A friend like that is no friend at all.” Rose had no idea. Fiona wasn’t afraid of our friendship ending. She was terrified of the truth coming out. In my past life, I always wondered how Rose could remember such specific details about a lie. But listening to her now, and seeing Fiona’s reaction, a bold idea began to form in my mind. The moment she said his name—Nathan—I was certain. Someone was a mistress in college. Someone had an abortion. But it wasn’t me. It was her own precious daughter, Fiona. I’d seen Fiona get into Nathan’s car near campus multiple times. I knew they’d been a thing for a while, but I never knew Nathan was married. And I remembered a time when Fiona was terribly weak and pale. When I asked what was wrong, she just said it was a bad period. I was naive back then. I didn’t understand how menstrual cramps could cause that much pain. Seeing them about to escape the reception hall, I blocked Rose’s path again. “You’re not leaving. You have to be my witness.” I insisted I had no memory of any of this, no memory of ever being involved with Nathan. Since she remembered it all so clearly, she could come with me to the police station and give a statement. If she refused, it was proof she was lying. Rose, however, thought I was just playing dumb, trying to bury the past. She stopped trying to leave and squared off with me. “It doesn’t matter if you admit it, it’s still true! And I’ll tell you what, Nathan is having his engagement party in this very hotel, right now. I’ll call him over. Let’s see how you handle that.” I lifted my chin. “Go on then. Get him over here. Let’s confront him together!” Spurred on, Rose wrenched her arm from Fiona’s grasp, pulled out her phone, and made the call. And it was true. Nathan really was in the hotel. A few minutes later, Nathan’s mother arrived. The second she appeared, Rose grabbed her hand. “During your son’s first marriage, did he or did he not get a college girl pregnant? Look, isn’t this her?” I expected Nathan’s mom to deny it, given the public setting. It wasn’t exactly something to be proud of. But to my surprise, she said smugly, “That was years ago, who remembers the details? But yes, there was some little thing who was always chasing after my Nathan.” Then she seemed to remember where she was and covered her mouth with a giggle. “Why did you call me over here to talk about this?” Rose shot me a triumphant smirk. “Did you hear that, Jane? Let’s just leave it at that. It’s your wedding day, so I’ll do you a favor and not air all of your dirty laundry.” With that, the two of them started chatting as if nothing was wrong, discussing Nathan’s second fiancée, the daughter of his boss, and how well his career was going. I cut in. “This lady only said ‘some little thing.’ How do you know that was me?” The entire hall was craning their necks, trying to catch every word. The wedding planner came over and whispered urgently that the ceremony was about to start. My parents, mortified, tried to pull me away. “Jane, what do you think you’re doing? Can’t this wait until after the wedding?” I shook my head like a metronome. “No. I want this settled now. Before my reputation is completely destroyed.” My dad’s voice was tight with anger. “She already gave you an out, didn’t you hear her? Drop it! Do you even want to get married or not?” I looked over at my future husband and mother-in-law. Their faces were as black as thunderclouds. The disgust in their eyes was overflowing. “This is the wonderful daughter-in-law you picked out for me,” my mother-in-law sneered at Ethan. “I told you from the start she was a little fox, but you wouldn’t listen.” Ethan strode over, his voice sharp with displeasure. “Jane, is any of this true? Because if it is, I don’t think we can go through with this wedding.” His mother added from behind him, “How utterly shameless. To make such a huge scene to cover up your own filthy past.” Their words were like daggers. My parents cared only about their own reputation, about getting the wedding over with. My fiancé thought I was embarrassing him. But he and I had met freshman year. We were inseparable for years. He, more than anyone, knew whether or not I’d been pregnant. And yet, in the end, he believed them too.

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The day our vacation started. I’d been wrestling with my curling iron for a solid hour, and my hair was still a mess of sad, uneven waves. Seeing my struggle, my boyfriend, Ryan, took the hot tool from my hand with the ease of a professional. He sectioned my hair, wrapped each strand around the barrel, and had a perfect cascade of curls finished in under fifteen minutes. He gently combed through the waves with his fingers, then frowned, muttering to himself, “Why does this look… different?” I lifted my head, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “What do you think is different?” I asked softly. He paused, a flicker of memory in his eyes. “The curve… it should be wider, I think.” 1 The air went still. The heat from the curling iron beside my ear seemed to sear its way straight into my heart. My fingers tightened around the comb, my throat suddenly tight. “Have you done this for someone else before?” Ryan’s hand froze in mid-air. “Ding-a-ling-ling, it’s eight o’clock! Time to get a move on, Lucy-Goosey!” The custom alarm he’d set for me shattered the silence. Ryan flinched as if waking from a dream. His hand jerked, and the hot barrel of the curling iron nearly grazed my neck. He fumbled to turn off the alarm, his voice feigning a casual tone. “Oh, yeah. Back in college, I got roped into being a stagehand for the drama club…” “You know, helping the girls with their hair and makeup sometimes.” The explanation was plausible. Ryan was exactly the kind of dependable guy who’d get stuck with grunt work for a club. But for some reason, the unease in my chest crested into a tidal wave. “Oh, right,” I said with a small, tight smile. “You’ve still got the magic touch, even five years after graduation.” He let out a dry laugh and turned to grab the purse I’d laid out for the day. “I’ve pretty much forgotten it all.” “Come on, let’s go. If we don’t leave now, the lines at Disney will be insane.” I took a deep breath, watching him expertly pack my bag with compact powder, sunscreen, and tissues. He even found the exact shade of lipstick I’d mentioned off-handedly last night. I forced my brow to smooth. I had to be overthinking this. Thankfully, traffic was light, and we made it to the park before the massive crowds descended. I had been looking forward to this trip for three months, and the second we were through the gates, I was dragging Ryan around, demanding he take pictures of me. Ryan raised the camera. “Head a little to the left,” he directed. “Chin down, slightly. Don’t slouch.” Strangely, the woman in his photos today was stunning. The composition, the lighting, the angles—everything was perfect. He’d even learned how to use portrait mode to blur out the crowds. In the photos, my smile was radiant, but the hand scrolling through them began to tremble. In the five years we’d been together, Ryan had indulged my every whim except for one: photography. He always complained it was a hassle, and his pictures were consistently lazy and poorly framed. They say the person who loves you takes the best pictures of you. We’d fought about it more times than I could count. The anxiety from this morning, which I had tried so hard to suppress, came rushing back, heavy and suffocating. Could someone’s photography skills improve so drastically overnight? Noticing my darkening expression, Ryan asked softly, “What’s wrong, babe? You don’t like them? It’s my fault. We can try another spot, I can try again.” I shook my head, forcing down the sour knot in my stomach. I manufactured a smile. “No, they’re beautiful. I’m just not used to you making me look this good.” Ryan chuckled, ruffling my hair. “You were always complaining about my terrible photos. I actually took some lessons from a pro. What do you think? Big improvement, right?” I stared into his eyes. “Your teacher must be a miracle worker,” I said, my voice soft. “I tried to teach you for five years and got nowhere, but she gets through to you instantly.” Ryan froze for a second, then shrugged with his hands open. “Babe, she’s a professional. Besides, aren’t you happy? You always said I didn’t love you enough to capture your beauty. I guess this proves I do, right?” I don’t remember how I responded. The rest of the day passed in a numb haze. It wasn’t until we were back in the hotel that night that the one question I’d been avoiding consumed me. Who taught him? Ryan tossed his jacket and phone onto the bed the moment he walked in and headed straight for the shower. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone. After a few seconds, my trembling hand reached out and unlocked it. The passcode hadn’t changed. It was still my birthday. I swiped open the screen, my heart hammering against my ribs. WhatsApp, call logs, messages… all clean. He’d even cleared his Uber Eats order history. Everything was flawless. Too flawless. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Just as I was about to put the phone back, my eyes caught his weather app. Orlando, FL: Sunny, 82°F Savannah, GA: Cloudy, 79°F Savannah? But we lived in New York. My fingers froze. My chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. Ryan had been to Savannah. Three months ago, for “work.” In that single, gut-wrenching second, I knew. Ryan was cheating on me. The water in the bathroom shut off. Ryan walked out, toweling his hair, and saw me holding his phone. He smiled. “How’s the inspection going? Find anything interesting?” His tone was so light, almost teasing, as if he was certain I’d find nothing. I forced the corners of my mouth up. “Just browsing.” He walked over, leaned down, and kissed my forehead, his damp hair brushing against my cheek. “Send me a few of the pictures from today. I want to post one.” I nodded, selecting a few and sending them over. He looked down at his phone, a smile playing on his lips as his fingers tapped the screen. “This one’s perfect.” I leaned over to look. It was a photo of my back as I stood under the fireworks, my curled hair cascading down. My style was so different from the straight hair I’d worn for years that from a distance, you could barely tell it was me. “I’m posting this one,” he said. I stared at his screen, my throat dry. “But… you can’t even see my face.” He didn’t look up. “It’s all about the vibe. It’s a great shot. Besides, all my friends know you’re my girlfriend.” A few minutes later, his Instagram was updated. The caption: “Showcasing what I’ve learned.” My heart shattered. He wasn’t posting it for me. He was posting it for the person who taught him photography. Later that night, tucked under the covers, I smothered my ragged sobs into the pillow. The tears that soaked the fabric were my only release. Over and over, one word echoed in my mind. Why? I had been betrayed. But why Ryan? Why the man who had pulled me from the depths of my despair? Why the man I had loved for five years? I wanted so desperately to lie to myself again. But it was impossible, not when the video of the two of them was still saved on my phone. 2 I barely slept. As dawn broke, painting the sky in pale shades of grey, Ryan was still fast asleep, his breathing even and deep. I slipped out of bed and walked to the window. The Orlando morning was cool and damp. I opened my phone and went to the single account Ryan followed on TikTok. Sometimes you have to marvel at technology. It knows not just big data, but the secrets of the human heart. I never used the app, yet the first video it ever pushed to my feed was proof of my boyfriend’s affair. I clicked on the girl’s profile. Her username was @CurlsAndClicks. Her profile picture was a backlit silhouette, her long, curly hair caught in the wind. I scrolled down, finding her very first video, posted on March 4th. In it, Ryan was standing under a massive, moss-draped oak tree in what looked like a park in Savannah. Sunlight dappled his shoulders through the leaves. He looked a little awkward, smiling at the camera, as a girl’s bright voice came from off-screen: “Come on, handsome, work with me! Just one shot!” So that’s how they met. She was a street photographer. That’s where Ryan learned his new skills. I stared at the screen. The ends of the girl’s hair, occasionally visible in the frame, were about the same length as mine, with a gentle curl. From a distance, she looked eerily similar to the silhouette in the photo he’d posted to his Instagram. So, when he posted that photo, was he thinking of her? I scrolled mechanically through her feed. There were seven videos featuring him in total. From March 1st to May 31st. I watched them hundreds of times, like a mini-series, witnessing their journey from strangers exchanging pleasantries to the easy intimacy of two people who know each other well. The last video was from the day before Ryan’s “business trip” ended. He was at a train station, looking down at her, his eyes filled with a tenderness that stabbed me in the heart. The girl’s voice was full of laughter. “Next time you see me, you better bring me a cheesecake from New York.” Ryan reached out and gently tucked a curl behind her ear. “I will,” he said softly. “And next time, I’ll style your hair even better for you.” His words from yesterday morning echoed in my ears: The curve… it should be wider, I think. So that was it. All the little details I had deliberately ignored over the past few months now flooded my mind. Ryan and I used to be inseparable. We’d video call on our lunch breaks and stay on the phone until we fell asleep. But ever since his trip to Savannah, my calls had started going unanswered more and more often. I told myself he was busy with work, but it only got worse after he came back. He, who used to hate texting, was now glued to his phone, a small smile constantly playing on his lips. When I asked who he was talking to, he wouldn’t even look up. “Just the project team. We’re finally making progress on the proposal.” I was happy for him at the time. We had started talking about getting married a year ago. I came from a single-parent family, and my mom had passed away, but Ryan’s parents adored me. All that was left was for him to propose. I waited and waited. What I got instead was him pulling away. He had rejected my advances three times since he got back from his trip. Each time, it was, “I’m sorry, Lucy, I’m just so swamped with work. Can we wait a few days?” Eventually, he stopped giving me the chance to even try, either falling asleep early or hiding away in his study. How pathetic. I’d actually booked a Botox consultation, thinking I’d lost my appeal. I even secretly saw a therapist, wondering if I was just being overly sensitive. Now I knew the truth. His heart had been occupied by someone else for a long time. I closed the video, took a deep breath, and opened a travel app. I quickly booked two train tickets to Savannah. Then, I turned, walked back to the bed, and gently shook Ryan’s shoulder. “Wake up. Change of plans.” He blinked his eyes open, his voice raspy. “…What?” “I want to go to Savannah.” His pupils contracted. He was instantly wide awake. “Savannah? Why the sudden change?” “Isn’t that where you were on your business trip for three months?” I tilted my head, my tone light and breezy. “I want to see it.” He shot up in bed, his brow furrowed, a machine-gun spray of objections firing from his lips. “But we’re not done in Orlando! We only spent one day at Disney!” “And you’ve always wanted to stay at the Grand Floridian! We waited a month for this reservation. It would be a shame to cancel.” “And what about that restaurant you’ve been dying to try…” “None of that matters anymore,” I interrupted, waving my phone. “A friend gave me two concert tickets. My favorite artist. It’s in Savannah.” His expression froze for a second, then visibly relaxed. “…A concert?” “Yep. They added a last-minute show. The tickets were impossible to get.” I stared into his eyes. “You don’t want to go with me?” “Of course I do!” he exclaimed, scrambling out of bed so quickly it was as if he was afraid I’d change my mind. “I’ll pack our bags right now.” I watched his hurried retreat, a corner of the wedding veil I’d packed peeking out of his suitcase. A slow smile spread across my face. “I’m looking forward to it, too.” 3 On the train to Savannah, Ryan was unusually busy, taking one call after another. He stepped out into the corridor to talk, away from me. I didn’t have the energy to care. The exhaustion from my sleepless night washed over me. In a drowsy haze, I thought I heard his voice. “Mom, yeah, change of plans… Yes, we’re going to Savannah instead…” The concert was the next day. By the time we checked into our hotel, it was already evening. Ryan put away our luggage and boiled some water, playing the part of the perfect boyfriend. I sat down at the vanity and deliberately pushed the curling iron towards him. “I want curls again tonight.” “My pleasure,” he said with a smile, taking it and expertly sectioning my hair. Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, dancing on his focused expression. As the steam from the hot iron rose between us, he suddenly spoke. “Lucy, after the concert tomorrow night…” “Hm?” “…I have a surprise for you.” The tips of his ears turned a faint red, and he quickly changed the subject. “All done. What do you think? Do you like it?” I examined my reflection from all angles. It was uncanny. It looked more and more like hers. The curve of the waves was identical to the girl’s in the video. I nodded. “Your skills are getting seriously good.” “By the way,” I said casually, applying my lipstick, “I hired a street photographer for tonight. The city is supposed to be beautiful at night. I want to get some couples photos.” “Great idea!” His eyes lit up, and he picked up his camera, mimicking a shot. “Maybe I can steal a few tricks from them.” Seeing the smile on his lips, I mirrored it with my own. “You’d better pay close attention, then.” 4 The riverfront in Savannah was bustling with tourists as evening fell. I clung affectionately to Ryan’s arm. When the familiar, curly-haired figure appeared at our designated meeting spot, I felt the man beside me go completely rigid. “Hi!” I waved enthusiastically. “You must be Kathy, right?” 5 The girl’s smile froze the moment she saw Ryan. The two of them stood as if petrified, the very air around them seeming to stop. “What’s wrong?” I tilted my head, my face a mask of confusion. “You two look like you’ve seen a ghost… Do you know each other?” “No!” Ryan snapped back to reality, his voice an octave too high. “We don’t!” The girl—Kathy—turned deathly pale, her fingers clutching the strap of her camera. I let go of Ryan’s arm and stepped forward to link my arm with hers. “You’re so pretty! And our hair is almost the same! Did you curl it yourself? You’re so talented.” “I’m hopeless at it. My boyfriend always has to do it for me. He’s amazing at it.” One of my sentences must have flipped a switch. Kathy’s eyes instantly welled with tears, but she forced herself to speak. “Really? It looks… beautiful.” “Are you… ready? We can start whenever you are.” Throughout the entire photoshoot, Ryan’s expression grew more and more strained. I, on the other hand, was having the time of my life, pulling him into one pose after another. The more intimate our poses became, the slower her shutter clicked. “Are we done?” she finally asked, her voice choked with emotion. “I’m… I’m not feeling my best today…” “What’s wrong?” I asked with feigned concern. She shot a panicked glance at Ryan, who quickly looked away. “I just… broke up with someone. I’m sorry. There’s no charge for today.” “He’s a dog,” I said, patting her shoulder comfortingly. “They all are.” “Thanks for the free session. I want to post these tonight. Could you send them to me as soon as possible?” Kathy nodded frantically. But Ryan suddenly stepped forward, told Kathy to open her Venmo, and sent her the money. “You earned it,” he said curtly. Then he grabbed my arm and practically dragged me away. I looked back over my shoulder and waved at Kathy. “Don’t forget the photos!~” Ryan walked so fast he didn’t look back once. I watched his retreating back and let a wide, unrestrained smile spread across my face. The show was just getting started. 6 Back at the hotel, Ryan masked his emotions with terrifying speed. He casually put my bag away and thoughtfully turned up the air conditioning. I sat on the bed, scrolling through the photos Kathy had just sent. I zoomed in on one. “This girl is really talented, isn’t she?” Ryan’s hands, which were busy unpacking, paused. He asked, feigning indifference, “Where did you find this photographer?” “A friend recommended her,” I said without looking up. “The same one who gave me the concert tickets.” His breath hitched for a fraction of a second. “Which friend? How come I don’t know them?” “A new contractor from work,” I said, still scrolling nonchalantly through my phone. “I’ll introduce you next time.” Ryan suddenly got up and wrapped his arms around me from behind, his warm lips pressing urgently against my neck. “Babe, it’s been so long. I want you…” His heartbeat was heavy and fast against my back, as if he was seeking some kind of confirmation. “Stop…” I coughed twice and pushed him away. “It’s so windy tonight. I think I’m catching a cold.” He immediately let go, a flicker of genuine panic in his eyes. “I’ll go make you some medicine.” As I watched him hurry away, I opened my Instagram and carefully selected nine of Kathy’s photos. The caption: “Met the most amazing photographer! So much better than some people I know~ ” Less than three minutes after I posted it, Kathy’s account updated with a new text-only post. No picture, just a single line: “I still couldn’t help myself. I needed to see you.” I turned off my screen just as I heard Ryan’s footsteps approaching with a mug. “Drink this while it’s hot,” he said, his voice gentle. “You need to be in top shape for the concert tomorrow.” I took the mug with a smile. “You too.”

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Father hired two retired mercenaries as bodyguards. The younger one, steel-eyed, only had eyes for my sister. I got Allen—his hearing impaired, body trembling from neurotoxin damage. I chose him, unable to bear him becoming a training dummy for recruits. When his pain flared, I soothed his muscles through sleepless nights. Took him to specialists weekly, though he never thanked me. When he couldn’t protect me, I trained myself instead, begging Father not to send him away. I told myself war had broken him. That my care could fix him. Then came the lab explosion. He ripped the gas mask from my hands. “Rose needs this more,” he rasped. As smoke swallowed me, his last words were: “Next life, I’ll repay you.” That’s when I knew—his silence wasn’t trauma. It was a wall built just for me. I woke back in that sunlit room, the morning we chose our guards. … I stared at the two brothers before me, the silence stretching. My sister, Rose, bit her lip, her gaze flickering nervously toward me. “Oh, Nina… maybe I should take Allen? You’re so delicate, you really need someone strong like Finn to protect you.” As she spoke, she took a tiny, deliberate step away from Finn and closer to Allen. The big, cold-shouldered man instantly went rigid, a flash of pure panic in his eyes. I remained silent, the memories of my first life crashing over me like a tidal wave. Last time, after Rose and Finn had all but chosen each other, I’d been caught in the same hesitation. And just like now, Rose had suddenly offered up the stronger brother, framing it as a sacrifice for my sake. Looking at her now, her face a perfect mask of concern, I remembered how I’d genuinely believed she was looking out for me. I’d been a fool, so sure of her goodness that I’d stubbornly refused. I didn’t want my little sister to be saddled with a burden, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of the frail-looking Allen being sent back to a place that would surely kill him. A decision that led to my death in a burning laboratory, where Rose, feigning reluctance, accepted the gas mask that both my bodyguards had ripped from me. Her chosen guard, Finn, had a perfect score in hazardous environment training. She had an emergency auto-injector of the antidote right there in her purse. But she’d only made a few token protests before accepting her prize. That was always her way. She knew I couldn’t stand to see anyone sacrifice for me, that I would always be the one to step back. She got what she wanted and the reputation of a saint for it. But not this time. “Fine,” I said, my voice calm and even. “Let Allen be your guard.” The self-satisfied smile waiting to bloom on Rose’s face froze solid. She wasn’t the only one stunned. Both brothers snapped their heads up, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief. “Don’t be ridiculous!” my father’s voice boomed, directed at Rose. “You are the heir to Leech Enterprises. Your safety is paramount. This man is a liability; he can’t even take care of himself. How can he possibly protect you?” A small, knowing smile touched my lips. So, Father knew the full extent of Allen’s condition. This whole selection process was just for show. But then… Rose’s tense shoulders visibly relaxed. She was just about to conjure up a tear when a voice, rough from disuse but clear, cut through the tension. “I’m fit for duty.” My head shot up. The man who hadn’t spoken a single word to me in five years in my past life was now speaking? My eyes met his. They were weary, haunted, but lucid. And in that moment, I knew. He remembered. He remembered everything. So much for repaying his debt in the next life. He’d come back just as terrified of being stuck with me as he was the first time. Too bad for him. This time, I had no intention of choosing him anyway. “My combat readiness can be tested, sir,” Allen continued, his voice steady. I didn’t doubt his skills for a second. After I died, my spirit had watched him take on three armed thugs to save Rose, his combat knife a silver blur as he slit their throats with chilling precision. The irony was bitter. I’d spent years training in martial arts just so Father wouldn’t discard him like a broken tool. As expected, when he dropped the facade of weakness, it was over in five seconds. A blur of motion, a sharp crack, and our top combat instructor was flat on his back, gasping for air with Allen’s boot on his chest. The tension in my father’s face eased. The budding tears in Rose’s eyes vanished without a trace. To be fair, Allen was handsomer than his brother. If not for the poison and the hearing damage, Rose would have picked him from the start. “Very well,” Father declared. “Allen will be assigned to you. Finn, you’ll protect Nina.” At the final assignment, Finn’s gaze swept over me. When it fell to my legs—useless, twisted things hidden beneath a cashmere blanket—a flicker of undisguised revulsion crossed his face. Suddenly, he dropped to one knee. “Sir, I request a transfer. Back to the compound.” Father’s face darkened. “A seven-figure salary isn’t enough to keep you? You’d rather go back there to die?” Finn didn’t even try to hide it. He deliberately looked away from my wheelchair. “I’m not qualified to protect Miss Leech.” A bitter smile played on my lips. The injury I’d gotten at twelve, saving Rose from being run over, was still the stain I could never wash away. Allen’s coldness in my past life suddenly made a lot more sense. “Finn! How could you say that to my sister!” Rose cried, rushing to his side and striking his shoulder with a trembling hand. When Finn looked up at her, his eyes were blazing with a raw, fierce emotion. “I only came here for one person.” The room fell silent. I let out a soft, humorless laugh. Rose quickly suppressed her triumphant smile, hitting his shoulder again, a little more theatrically this time. “Don’t say things like that! I won’t let you go back!” “Why make things difficult?” I said, my fingers tracing the armrest of my wheelchair. “Rose can just have them both.” Rose’s cheeks flushed. “Nina… what are you saying?” The Leech brothers were undeniably handsome. From the moment they had entered the room, Rose’s gaze had been stuck to them like glue. Father considered it for a moment. “Are you sure you don’t want a guard?” “I’m sure. I don’t want them. Either of them.” Both brothers looked at me then. I could see the question in their eyes, wondering what gave me the right to be so dismissive. Allen’s stare was particularly intense, a storm of emotions I couldn’t begin to decipher. I didn’t want to. I couldn’t be bothered. “Then what about your safety?” Father asked. “Then I suppose I’m not safe,” I admitted, meeting his gaze without flinching. He was clearly taken aback. “In that case, Father,” I continued, “why don’t you send me to work with my uncle? He has more than enough security personnel.” In my past life, all my energy had been poured into Allen. I’d missed every opportunity, every shift in the family’s corporate landscape. My situation and my sister’s were worlds apart. Father always said he loved us equally, but the stock distribution documents only ever had two names on them: Rose and my uncle. While my uncle was conquering markets overseas, growing the family fortune exponentially, Rose’s annual dividends were enough to buy an entire financial district. Meanwhile, I had to grovel with the finance department just to get approval for Allen’s specialized medication. If I wanted to change my fate, I had to get in the game myself. My uncle, who rarely saw his forgotten niece, was dismissive. His secretary assigned me to a dead-end department and left me there. I didn’t complain. I didn’t fight. I just quietly built my own little kingdom. The business acumen I’d never had a chance to use in my past life flourished, surprising even myself. After I landed the toughest multinational contract on the books, my uncle summoned me to his office for the first time. He threw me a belated welcome party and handed me control of the entire Asia-Pacific division. The company was on the verge of going public; even if he favored Rose, he needed my skills right now. Soon, the whispers in the business world began to change. My name was being mentioned alongside Rose’s—the “Jewel of Leech Enterprises.” One evening, returning to the family estate, Rose intercepted me on the veranda. “You’re making a lot of noise, Nina,” she said, her voice a sweet poison. I raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been everywhere lately, schmoozing at every event. I’m not trying to be a wet blanket, sister, but a lucky streak doesn’t make you a player. If you stumble, you’ll tarnish the Leech name.” She paused, her eyes darting toward Allen, who stood a few feet away. “Besides, with all this attention on… you… what respectable man would ever propose?” Her gaze lingered meaningfully on my wheelchair. “I think it’s time you stopped bothering Uncle. From now on, I’ll take you to the parties.” I laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Are you jealous I’m stealing your spotlight?” Her pupils contracted. “Let me ask you something, Rose. In what capacity are you telling me to stand down? As the official heir? The youngest member of the board?” I leaned forward. “No matter what happens, you benefit the most. So where do you get the nerve to tell me to sit down and be quiet?” “Nina, how could you…” Her eyes instantly filled with tears. I cut off her performance with a glacial stare. “And since you brought up my legs, maybe we should talk about that ‘accident’ when I was twelve.” Her face went pale. “I shoved you out of the way of that car, didn’t I? But tell me, who was it that gave me that final, decisive shove, right into the path of the wheels?” Rose stumbled back, her trembling fingers pressed to her lips. “Don’t give me that look. You’re not the one who ended up crippled for life.” I began to turn my wheelchair to leave. “Go on, keep being the Jewel of Leech Enterprises.” She crumpled to the marble floor, a perfect picture of wounded innocence, her tears splashing onto the polished stone. “No, sister… it wasn’t like that… I was so scared…” she sobbed. “How can you think I’m so evil…” “Enough!” Finn strode forward, scooping her into his arms. “That’s enough, Nina,” he growled, his voice dangerously disrespectful. “You’ve gone too far!” Rose immediately clung to his shirt, her voice trembling. “Finn, don’t… I’m fine… really…” The words were barely out before her whole body started to shake. A flicker of pain crossed Allen’s face. He looked directly at me. “You should apologize.” I almost laughed out loud. He just stood there, waiting. The slap echoed in the hallway. Rose gasped, throwing herself in front of him. “Nina! How could you hit him!” I slowly lowered my stinging hand. “You might want to teach your pet some manners, Rose. Before he forgets who signs his checks.” “You—” Finn’s fists clenched, his knuckles cracking. Allen touched his own reddening cheek, his expression one of pure, unadulterated shock. I spun my wheelchair around and left them there, not giving them a chance to say another word. I had planned to pack my bags and move into the corporate apartment, to get away from this toxic swamp for good. But the next morning, my bedroom door splintered off its hinges. Finn burst in, and before I could even process what was happening, he was dragging me violently from my bed. “Rose has been kidnapped! You’re coming with me, now!” In a flash, I had the handgun from the hidden compartment in my wheelchair. I pressed the cold muzzle to his temple. “Move, and you’re dead.” “And for the record,” I hissed, “her being kidnapped has nothing to do with me!” “Still lying!” Finn’s eyes were bloodshot, crazed. He hadn’t slept. “If it wasn’t for the vicious things you said yesterday, she never would have driven off in the middle of the night! The kidnappers want to trade. This is your chance to atone for what you did!” The door was thrown open again and Allen rushed in, his face ashen. He looked up at the second floor. “Did you find her?” Finn yanked on my collar. “The kidnappers agreed to a swap.” His voice was low and menacing. “You started this. You’re going to finish it.” “You’re asking to die,” I snarled, slamming the butt of my gun into his face. His eyebrow split open, blood welling instantly. “A hired goon dares to lay a finger on me?” The blow dazed him, but it only made his eyes more feral. “With all due respect, Miss Leech, you don’t have a choice in this.” His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist in a vice grip. “For Rose, we’ll take the punishment later! Allen! Restrain her!” Against Finn, my marksmanship gave me a fighting chance. Against Allen, I had none. With a deafening clang, my gun was on the floor and I was slammed back into my wheelchair. Allen’s combat boots filled my vision. I struggled, thrashed, but I was no match for the two of them. I looked up, my last shred of hope fixed on him. “Allen… don’t do this… please…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. He turned his face away. “I’m sorry.” Click. The sound of the magazine being ejected from my gun was the sound of my world ending. I was completely at their mercy. On the way to the drop point, Allen himself stood guard over me. “You came back, too,” he said suddenly. A mocking smile twisted my lips. “And you’re still just as cruel to me.” He was silent for a moment. Then, his voice was a low rasp. “I owe you.” SLAP. I struck him again, with all the force I could muster. “Two lifetimes, and your apologies are still this cheap.” His head snapped to the side, his hair falling over his eyes. I could only hear his voice, low and strained. “I swear, this is the last time.” He grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight. “We trade you for her. The debt from our last life will be paid.” His voice dropped to a desperate whisper. “After this, I’ll protect you. I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting you, I swear.” I turned my head away and scoffed. His knuckles went white as he squeezed my wrist harder. “This is all for show,” he insisted. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” The exchange was set for an abandoned shipyard. The moment I passed Rose, she suddenly stumbled, lurching forward with a cry. “Allen! Finn!” My head whipped around. Allen was the first to move, crossing the distance in a heartbeat to catch her. Finn was right behind him, expertly slicing the ropes from her wrists. Allen’s arms were wrapped around her so tightly his knuckles were white, his whole body trembling. I could just make out the shape of his words as he buried his face in her hair. “I’m so sorry… I failed you… I let you suffer…” A strange, dull ache bloomed in my chest. I had warned myself not to hope, not to expect anything. The rough scrape of rope against my skin broke my trance. Before I could even make a sound, a strip of cold, sticky tape was slapped across my mouth.

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When the private photos of Lary Croft landed in my hands, I knew he had cheated again. This time, it was with his personal secretary, a woman who bore a striking resemblance to me. I numbly went through the usual motions, offering her money to disappear. But this time, she looked at me, her eyes red with defiance. “Ms. Thorne,” she said, her voice trembling, “do you believe me when I say that if I leave, Mr. Croft and your mother will lose their minds?” She made a bet with me, then intentionally left behind a resignation letter full of feigned humiliation and vanished. At first, I didn’t take her words to heart. Every one of Lary’s mistresses had said something similar, some final act of defiance before they took the money and ran. But this time, when my mother heard the news, her hair turned white overnight. And Lary, my husband of seven years, handed me a divorce agreement. “Ivy was my mother-in-law’s illegitimate daughter, raised outside the family,” he said, his voice flat. “And we have a five-year-old child together. I’ve been with her longer than I’ve been with you.” “She is our life.” My world tilted. It was then I realized the woman’s words were true. Without her, my mother and my husband really would go insane. 1 “Either you tell us where Ivy is, or we sever our mother-daughter relationship.” “Get out of the Thorne family home right now.” My mother’s hoarse voice made my heart skip a beat. I stared at them, my head reeling. For the first time, the world felt utterly absurd. “I really don’t know anything.” My voice was a faint, powerless whisper. It only filled my mother’s eyes with profound disappointment. Lary threw Ivy’s resignation letter at my feet. It was filled with accusations against me and professions of her heartbreak at leaving them. “I don’t care how you treat other people.” “But why did you have to touch Ivy? She and the child have vanished without a trace. Are you telling me you have nothing to do with it?!” Lary’s voice grew louder with each word. He had been searching for her all night, his eyes shot through with red. The man who was always so composed was now a mess of raw panic. I closed my eyes, the simple act of breathing sending a sharp pain through my lungs. “Ivy took my money. She left voluntarily. I don’t know where she is.” Seeing my detached demeanor, Lary’s patience finally snapped. He turned to my mother. “Mother, she’s not going to tell the truth. Who knows what she’s done to Ivy…” “And don’t forget about Lary Junior. The child is missing too. He’s your only biological grandchild.” At his words, my mother slowly rose to her feet. Her bodyguards moved as one, surrounding me. “Lily,” she said, her voice cold and even, “you and Ivy are both my children. If you confess now, I promise I won’t punish you.” “I’m giving you one last chance. Just tell me where Ivy is, and I will forgive you. You will still be the eldest daughter of the Thorne family.” The woman before me blurred with the memory of the mother I once knew. But the warmth in her eyes was gone, replaced by ice. My lips trembled. I tried to speak, but only a choked sob escaped. My mother’s patience wore thin. She waved her hand, and the bodyguards seized my shoulders. “Break her fingers first.” A sharp crack echoed in the silent room. The agony of a broken bone shot up my arm, and the blood drained from my face. I stared at my mother in disbelief. The last flicker of hope in my heart died. I bit down on my lip, sweat dripping onto the floor. One finger wasn’t enough, so they broke a second, then a third… Just as my vision started to go black, Lary’s phone rang, a shrill, urgent sound. “Mr. Croft, we’ve found Ms. Shaw.” The words were my salvation. I was tossed aside, a broken doll on the floor. All ten of my fingers were twisted at unnatural angles, swollen and black. My mother and Lary heaved a collective sigh of relief. The smiles returned to their faces, but they didn’t spare me another glance. As he was leaving, Lary paused. He looked back at me, crumpled on the ground. “Sign the divorce papers today. I don’t want my child to be illegitimate too.” The door slammed shut, the gust of wind it created sending the divorce agreement fluttering to the floor. Lary had already signed his name. The date beneath his signature was from seven years ago. The day after our wedding, he had already prepared for our divorce. I gasped for air, my phone screen lighting up the darkness. A flood of messages. A cold notification from my mother. A social media update from Lary, celebrating the return of his beloved. And one other message, from a stranger who had texted me without fail for seven years. “Lily, I’m coming home soon. If you’re willing, the offer I made seven years ago still stands…” 2 I sat there all night, motionless, until the first light of dawn broke through the windows. Then, I signed my name on the document. The marriage I had carefully protected for seven years had left me with nothing. I took the divorce papers to Lary’s company. As I stepped inside, several employees rushed out of the break room, their faces flushed. They bumped into me, their eyes full of a pity they couldn’t voice. Before I could react, a high-pitched moan echoed through the main office. Everyone immediately lowered their heads, pretending not to hear. My heart sank. I took a step forward, but my assistant quickly blocked my path. “Mrs. Croft, maybe you shouldn’t go in.” A crowd of employees had gathered, their stares burning into my skin. “Is this a first for Mr. Croft? In broad daylight, right here in the office…” “Ivy Shaw quit suddenly yesterday. He was going crazy looking for her. Now that he’s got her back, I guess he just couldn’t hold it in.” “I can’t believe Mrs. Croft is still with him. She has the patience of a saint.” “Well, she’s hopelessly in love with him, isn’t she?” My gaze fell on the office window. The blinds, usually open, were drawn shut. The sounds of their passion were unabashed. Through the slats, I could see clothes scattered on the floor. I slowly lowered my head, my eyes dry and aching. In our world of corporate marriages, there was an unwritten rule. Even after marriage, you could have your own life, your own affairs, as long as you didn’t interfere with each other. I thought Lary was different. But six months into our marriage, he changed. I had fought, I had screamed, I had threatened suicide. It all ended in mutual destruction. “Lily Thorne, not everyone’s heart stays the same forever.” “We’re still husband and wife. You’re free to pursue your own happiness too.” Lary’s words from long ago echoed in my ears. I looked at the closed office door, took a deep breath, and pushed it open. The onlookers scattered. The office was a mess. The framed photo of us that used to sit on his desk was now shattered on the floor. The lust hadn’t yet faded from Lary’s eyes. When he saw me, there was no panic. He kissed the corner of Ivy’s lips, his eyes mocking me. “Didn’t you know someone was in the office? Or do you have a habit of eavesdropping?” His aggressive questioning made my stomach churn. A wave of nausea rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Seeing my silence, Lary grew impatient. He gently pushed Ivy away and straightened his disheveled clothes. The angry red scratches on his chest were glaring. I looked away, my voice hoarse. “We need to talk.” “Sister, am I in your way?” Ivy suddenly interjected. She smiled at me, deliberately revealing the dark marks on her neck. As expected, Lary’s expression soured at her words. “Besides the divorce, we have nothing to talk about. Ivy is your sister. Why do you have to be so hostile towards her?” He rarely protected anyone so fiercely. Now, he was shielding Ivy behind him, his eyes wary. I sighed and placed the signed divorce agreement on the desk in front of him. When he saw my signature, his eyes widened in surprise. He snatched the document, scanned it carefully, and then let out a cold snort. “Good. You know what’s best for you. Even after the divorce, we can still be family.” “Don’t touch Ivy again. You don’t want Mom to disown you, do you?” With that, he took Ivy and left, as if my very presence was something he couldn’t stand. 3 I returned home, exhausted. My eyes fell on the unread message on my phone. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long time before I finally typed a reply. “I’m willing.” I had always known who the sender was. Before I married Lary, there was another boy who had followed me, a silent shadow. The day I got married, he left the country. For seven years, the only contact had been birthday and New Year’s greetings. I had stubbornly held onto a failing marriage for seven years, blind to the one who was waiting for me. Suppressing the bitterness in my heart, I contacted a lawyer to start the process of dividing our assets. Not long after, the door was thrown open. My mother stumbled in, her face a mask of frantic anxiety. Before I could react, a heavy slap landed across my face. My mother collapsed beside me, sobbing. “Lily Thorne, you are a monster! Why can’t you change? Why can’t you just leave Ivy alone!” My ears were ringing. My lip was split, and blood dripped onto the floor. Lary grabbed me by the throat, his hoarse roars making my head spin. “Was it you? Did you send people to kidnap Ivy and Lary Junior? I just took my eyes off her for a second, and she was gone!” “What will it take for you to leave them alone?!” My mother held out a small box, her hands trembling. Inside was a severed finger. A child’s finger. It looked like it had just been cut. “Lily, Lary Junior is my only grandson. He’s been raised in secret all his life, bearing the shame of being illegitimate.” “Why can’t you even spare a child?” The lines on my mother’s face had deepened. She looked utterly exhausted. “I can’t let you continue down this path.” Once again, they didn’t listen to a word I said. Once again, they had already decided I was the mastermind behind the kidnapping. My mother called the police. Without a second thought, she had me sent to a detention center. To break me, she had them use “enhanced interrogation techniques.” The electric baton slammed into my body. I convulsed, my eyes rolling back in my head. My mother and Lary watched without a flicker of sympathy. My screams turned to whimpers, and finally to silence, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Then, a message came from the kidnappers. A video. Ivy and Lary Junior, blindfolded and tied to chairs. They were covered in blood. The child looked lifeless. The sight made my mother nearly faint. Lary’s face was ashen. He snarled at the kidnapper on the screen. “How much do you want? We’ll give you anything. Just don’t hurt my son—” The kidnapper laughed. “You want to save your son? Fine. A life for a life.” “Break Ms. Thorne’s legs and bring her here in exchange.” My mother and Lary froze. They both turned to look at me. I could no longer speak, only manage a weak, broken plea. “Mom… it wasn’t me…” A flicker of hesitation crossed my mother’s eyes. But then, Ivy’s desperate cries came from the video. “Mom! Lary! Come save Lary Junior! He’s not going to make it!” “Sister, I’m begging you, he’s just a child!” The hesitation in their eyes vanished, replaced by grim resolve. Lary picked up a nearby chair and advanced on me. My heart plummeted. I looked at him, my eyes pleading. “Lary, you can’t do this to me.” He gritted his teeth and brought the chair down on my knees with all his might. Again and again. My legs were shattered. I collapsed to the floor, a useless heap. Lary pulled me into a tight embrace, his voice trembling. “Lily, forgive me. I can’t live without Ivy. When you come back safely, I will spend the rest of my life atoning for this.” My mother wiped her tears and looked at the kidnapper on the screen. “We’re bringing her to you now. You must let my daughter and grandson go, unharmed!”

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