Category: English

While I was delivering food at the mall, I watched in horror as my daughter tumbled down a long flight of stairs, her leg bone snapping on impact. The agony bleached her small face white. I was about to scoop her up and call 911 when a scalding hot latte drenched my head. “You filthy charity case! Stealing in broad daylight!” a heavily pregnant woman shrieked, ripping the birthday necklace from my daughter’s neck. Her posse of friends jeered and laughed. “You dare touch something that belongs to the Stone family? Do you have any idea who this is? Sophia Bell, fiancée of Mr. Stone, the CEO of Stone Corporation!” I wiped the sticky latte from my face, my voice as cold as a winter frost. “Stone?” Sophia jutted out her stomach proudly. “The richest family in New York! Cross me, and you and this little brat are dead.” How interesting. Of the two Mr. Stones at Stone Corporation, one is my husband, and the other is my son. … I immediately pulled out my phone and dialed my son, Adam. “You and your father get your asses down to the Grand Atrium right now.” If that little punk knew how to admit he was wrong and could learn to control his power-tripping little girlfriend, I wasn’t entirely against letting this Sophia girl into our family. But Adam’s voice on the other end was impatient, laced with accusation. “Mom, can you not cause drama? I told you, Dad and I are swamped right now. We don’t have time for your games.” My face hardened. “If I don’t see you in twenty minutes,” I said, my voice dangerously low, “I swear I’ll take a sledgehammer to every single one of your new toys in the garage.” Adam cherished the Rolls-Royce in that garage more than life itself. He wouldn’t risk a single scratch on his precious car. The second I hung up, the crowd around me erupted in laughter. “Hahahaha! Calling her husband and son? It’s the middle of the day, don’t you have deliveries to make? Wouldn’t want to interrupt your pathetic, minimum-wage-earning husband!” “A family of bums. You could deliver food for the rest of your lives and you still couldn’t afford a single gem on Sophia’s necklace!” Monica had fallen from so high. Her little body was a mess of fractures, bruised and swollen. She was so small, the pain robbing her of the ability to even speak properly. She curled into my arms like a kitten. “Mommy… it hurts…” I fought down the inferno of rage building inside me and lifted my fading daughter, heading for the exit. Saving my child was the priority. I’d settle the score with Adam and Sophia later. But I’d only taken two steps when a stiletto heel dug into the small of my back. I stumbled on the polished floor, losing my grip, and we both went flying. “Ah!” A sickening thud echoed through the atrium. My vision went black as my forehead slammed into the sharp marble edge of a step. A warm gush of blood erupted from my brow, the thick, metallic scent filling my senses as it streamed down my face. Before I could even catch my breath, Sophia’s foot pressed my head to the ground. “You thieving bitch! Trying to run?” Monica had been thrown from my arms, her tiny body hitting the floor with a dull, heavy sound. “Mmm… Mommy!” Her face was chalk-white as she desperately tried to crawl back to me. Her trembling little hands feebly slapped at Sophia’s leg. “Bad… bad lady! Don’t… don’t step on my mommy…” Sophia bent down and yanked Monica up by her hair. She raised her hand. Crack! Crack! Crack! Three sharp slaps echoed in the cavernous space. “You little bitch! You dare to hit me?” Monica’s cheeks instantly swelled, her lip splitting open. Blood and saliva trickled down her chin, staining her little white dress crimson. My vision turned red. Ignoring the searing pain in my forehead, I scrambled forward and snatched my daughter back. “Stop it!” I roared. “You’re pregnant, you’re going to be a mother yourself! Have some goddamn decency!” Sophia just laughed, a cruel, mocking sound, as she stroked her swollen belly. “You think trash like you is even worthy of being compared to the noble Stone heir in my womb?” She tilted her chin up, and then, she kicked. A sharp, brutal kick aimed right at Monica, who was twitching in my arms. “No!” A desperate scream tore from my throat. I threw myself over her, trying to shield her with my body. But I was too late. Monica’s cry of pain was a knife twisting in my ear. The rage that had been simmering in my gut erupted, incinerating every last shred of my reason. I stared at Sophia’s distorted face and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva. “Sophia Bell! For what you’ve done today, you will never set foot in the Stone family home!” “Even if Adam gets on his knees and begs until his head bleeds, the Stones will never accept a venomous snake like you as a daughter-in-law!” I was shaking with fury. I fumbled for my cracked phone and dialed 911. “Hello? 911…” Sophia’s eyes narrowed. She lunged forward, kicking the phone from my grasp. She brought her heel down, stomping on my hand and the phone beneath it. The stiletto’s sharp point drove into the back of my hand. A sickening crunch of bone echoed, and a blinding, all-consuming pain shot through my entire body. The agony was so intense, every limb trembled. “Aaaargh!!!” I screamed. As if to make sure the phone was completely destroyed, Sophia ground her heel into it, twisting. The sharp agony of bone and flesh separating made a cold sweat break out across my back. The screen under her heel went black. The pain was so excruciating I was convulsing, on the verge of passing out. But Sophia just stood over me, her belly prominent, looking down as if I were an insect. “You dare call the cops? Even if they came, they’d just make you and your little thief pay for my necklace.” She kicked me again. “You old hag, worrying about whether I’ll marry into the Stone family? Save it.” “Worry about how you’re going to pay me back for my necklace!” “It was custom-made in Italy! The repair costs alone are more than you’ll ever make in your miserable life!” Her eyes raked over me with a malicious contempt, as if I were garbage. “Maybe you should quit the delivery gig. Go clean yourself up and sell that body of yours. At your age, tsk, tsk, you could work yourself to death and probably still not pay it off!” The fawning voices of her friends immediately chimed in. “Sophia, you’re giving her too much credit. She looks like she’s over thirty. Who’d want that old hag?” “I wouldn’t pay two bucks for her. I wouldn’t even let her warm my feet for free, she’s too bony!” “Hahahaha! You never know, maybe she could find some business with the old men under the bridge!” The vile, degrading insults rained down on me. In all my years as Eleanor Vance, a titan of the business world, I had never faced such humiliation. I fought to control the rage coursing through my veins. I gritted my teeth, holding my daughter’s bruised, faintly breathing body, and looked at the crowd. My voice was a raw, bloody whisper as I pleaded. “My daughter didn’t steal anything. Please, someone, call 911, call an ambulance.” “She’s only four. She can’t take much more of this. Nothing is more important than a human life!” But no one moved. Sophia’s friends watched with cold indifference, their faces a mixture of mockery and disgust. “She’s just some delivery driver. Her life is worthless. She pissed off Sophia, she deserves to die.” “Stop wailing, it’s so depressing.” Sophia raised her chin, smugly toying with the family heirloom bracelet on her wrist. She looked down at me with a show of “mercy,” her smile poisonous. “Lick the filthy blood of you and your daughter off the floor. Lick it clean, and then I’ll call an ambulance for her. How about that?” The crowd buzzed with excitement, eagerly chiming in. “Yeah! Lick it clean! Like a dog!” “This is a nice mall! They’ve made it all dirty with their blood!” Their unified support for Sophia’s cruelty sent my heart plunging into an icy abyss. For Monica… I lowered my head, tears of humiliation mixing with the blood on my face. I stared at the glaring red puddle on the floor, a mixture of my blood and Monica’s. Swallowing the overwhelming shame, I began to lower myself, trembling. The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils. Just as my lips were about to touch the filth, a commotion erupted from the crowd. “It’s the young Mr. Stone! From Stone Corporation!” The crowd parted abruptly. A tall, well-built young man strode forward, flanked by several bodyguards in black suits. It was that damn kid, Adam. He’d only been working his summer internship for a few weeks, but he’d certainly mastered the grand entrance. The tension in my body instantly gave way. I collapsed to the floor, all my strength gone, still clutching Monica. Sophia scurried towards him like a frightened rabbit. “Adam!” Her voice trembled as she pointed a finger at me and Monica, clutching her stomach. Before Sophia could say a word, her sycophantic friends, their eyes gleaming, rushed to tattle on her behalf. “Mr. Stone! It’s that old woman and her brat!” “They stole Miss Bell’s necklace!” “They wouldn’t admit it even when they were caught! They were so aggressive! They almost hurt Miss Bell!” “That old bitch even tried to call the cops and frame Miss Bell!” Adam’s gaze swept over us, cold and detached. There wasn’t a flicker of emotion in his eyes. He placed a protective hand on Sophia’s belly, smiling at her with an almost fawning tenderness. “Don’t be angry, sweetheart.” “Why lower yourself to their level? Getting upset and hurting yourself and the baby, that’s what really matters.” I suppose Monica and I were such a wreck that the little bastard didn’t even recognize his own mother. He only had eyes for Sophia, who was pouting and playing the victim. “But my necklace…” “What’s one necklace?” Without hesitation, Adam pulled a card from the inner pocket of his suit jacket. It was the supplementary black card his father had given him for his eighteenth birthday just a few days ago. He casually pressed it into Sophia’s hand, his voice indulgent. “Take this. Go buy ten new ones. As long as you’re happy, spend whatever you want.” A chorus of envious gasps rippled through the crowd. “Mr. Stone is so good to Miss Bell!” “Oh my god! Is that a no-limit card? Miss Bell is so lucky!” The flattery was enough to make anyone’s head spin. Sophia’s chin climbed even higher. She shot me a look brimming with venomous triumph and the promise of revenge. I almost laughed. This wet-behind-the-ears punk was playing the part of a domineering CEO. “Adam, they’re so disgusting. I can’t stand to look at them. Get rid of them, will you?” Adam didn’t even bother to look at us again. He gave a cold, dismissive wave of his hand. Two large bodyguards immediately moved forward. They grabbed me as if I were a chicken, their grip rough. The hand that Sophia had stomped on was twisted, the bones shifting again. The pain was so intense my vision swam with black spots. “Drag them away!” Adam barked at the bodyguards. “Don’t let them offend Sophia’s eyes.” Sophia smirked, her eyes raking over my battered body and Monica’s small, pale face. “They look so pitiful and poor. Why don’t we send them to Southeast Asia?” “The old one won’t be worth much, but if you raise the little one for a few years, you could make a good return on your investment.” She wanted to sell us into the sex trade. She wouldn’t even spare a four-year-old child. Where in the hell did this little monster Adam find such a psychopathic, evil girlfriend? “Fine,” Adam said, nodding without a second thought, as if he were merely disposing of two pieces of trash. “Do as Miss Bell says.” The bodyguards grabbed me, dragging the unconscious Monica, and began to haul us away. The crowd of onlookers parted to let them through. Rage flooded my vision. I had never, in my entire life, imagined that the son I had raised for eighteen years could be so monstrous. Just as they dragged me past Adam, I summoned every ounce of strength I had left and broke free. I raised my left hand, the one Sophia hadn’t broken. CRACK! The sound of my hand connecting with his handsome face echoed through the silent mall. The entire atrium fell silent. Everyone froze, a look of shock plastered on their faces. I stood before Adam, my hair a mess, my body covered in blood, my chest heaving with rage. “You bitch! How dare you hit the young Mr. Stone!” Sophia’s shrill voice screeched. I shot her a murderous glare, my voice as sharp as a blade, holding nothing back. “I hit him. So what? Say one more word, and I’ll hit you too.” Adam heard my voice, truly saw my blood-streaked face, and the color drained from his. He stared at my disheveled state, his mouth hanging open wide enough to fit an egg. He clutched his face, his lips trembling. The word “Mom” was caught in his throat, unspoken. Sophia was stunned for a second, then shrieked at me. “This is treason! Bodyguards! Chop off her hands!” Adam snapped back to reality, his eyes wide with a frantic, ghost-like terror. “Shut up!” he suddenly roared, cutting Sophia off. I was seething, my chest heaving. “Adam Stone! Just you wait until we get home! I’m going to skin you alive!” Adam’s expression shifted rapidly. He shot me a quick, pleading look filled with guilt. “Sophia! It’s a misunderstanding! A complete misunderstanding!” He took a deep breath and forced a laugh. “She’s not a stranger! She’s, uh, our family’s maid! She’s been with us since I was a kid! She has a bit of a temper… For my sake, let’s just drop it today, okay?” He turned and yelled at the bodyguards. “What are you standing around for? Get the maid’s daughter to a hospital! Now!” Sophia eyed me with suspicion and unconcealed contempt. “Don’t you dare take her to a hospital. She’s just a servant, and a thieving one at that. The brat she raised is a thief too.” The two of them were making my head spin. All the blood in my body was rushing to my head. Adam Stone! What a fine son I had raised! I clenched my fists, about to explode. Adam suddenly stepped closer, hissing in a frantic whisper only I could hear. “Mom! Mom, I’m begging you! Don’t embarrass me! I’m the young Mr. Stone now. In front of all these people… I can’t lose face…” Beside him, Sophia stood with her arms crossed, her chin so high it could pierce the ceiling. Her words were sharp and cruel. “Just because you worked as a maid for a few years, you think you can get away with hitting your master and stealing? Who gave you the nerve?” “Drag this old bitch and her little thief into a corner. I don’t want them ruining my view.” Adam was panicked and angry, but he opened his mouth and said nothing to stop her. That was it. I snapped. I would have been better off giving birth to a sack of potatoes. At least I could eat potatoes. All he knew how to do was abandon his mother for his new girlfriend, letting this bitch try to kill me and his own sister. Even if Sophia were an angel descended from heaven, a princess from some foreign land, she would never be my daughter-in-law.

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A fever had me in a daze, my head thick and heavy, when the doorbell suddenly rang. The delivery guy’s voice came through the door, announcing a delivery for a Mr. Cole. I took the bag and thanked him, a small smile playing on my lips. I’d only told Cole about my fever before bed, and here he was, already sending medicine. But when I opened the bag, I froze. Inside were condoms, lube, and a toy that made my head spin. I had just pulled out my phone to demand an explanation when a new text message popped up. It was from the Disneyland Resort, confirming Mr. Cole’s reservation at the Pixar Place Hotel. 1 My heart clenched. Staring at the confirmation, I numbly opened my text thread with Cole. Just half an hour ago, he’d sent me a video to check in. “Babe, even when you’re not here, I’m being a good boy for you.” “Miss you, babe.” “Babe, this is the hotel I’m staying in tonight. I’ll bring you back a present when I’m home tomorrow.” I hadn’t watched the video then, but now my fingers trembled as I pressed play. My heart pounded like a drum, the seconds ticking by as Cole panned the camera around the hotel room, showing me every corner. His voice, laced with a smile, floated from the speaker. “It’s a king-sized bed tonight, babe. But if you were here, I’d definitely have gotten us a suite…” I paused the video. Zooming in on the image, my eyes caught a glimpse of a heating pad on the nightstand. Disbelief washed over me. I took a screenshot and ran an image search on Amazon. The exact same one popped up. And just like that, I shattered. I sank onto the rug, my gaze hollow as I stared at the home we’d built, at the condoms and the sex toy on the coffee table. I remembered him complaining right before he left for his business trip, “I hate traveling for work. All I want to do is cuddle with my wife.” I remembered his video call right after his plane landed, whining, “The food on the plane was terrible, not nearly as good as yours.” I’d laughed at how childish he was, how the cutthroat CEO I knew from the business world turned into a big kid in front of me. He’d just smiled and said, “Around you, I get to be a kid again.” But that same man, my Cole… He was cheating on me. Numbly, I dialed his number. He picked up almost instantly, his voice carrying the heavy breathlessness of someone who had just been… exerting himself. “Babe, what’s wrong?” His tone was as gentle as ever, no different from any other day. But tears were already streaming down my face. “Cole,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Would you ever betray me?” I choked back a sob, forcing the question out again. “Would you ever betray me?” The tears fell freely now. I could hear a rustling sound in the background on his end, the unmistakable sound of someone else moving. Before Cole could answer, I heard him let out a low groan—a sound I knew all too well. It was the sound of arousal. An overwhelming wave of betrayal crashed over me. A violent nausea churned in my stomach, and I lurched to my feet, barely making it to the bathroom before I started retching. The mere thought of that scene was suffocating. Through my own heaving, I could hear Cole trying to mask his own state, his voice now a concerned, husky whisper. “Babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” “Are you still feeling sick?” After a moment of silence, he said, “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done here tomorrow. Don’t worry, okay? I’ve got to run, something just came up.” The sound of the toilet flushing drowned out the end of his sentence. By the time I wiped the tears from my face, he had already hung up. I stared at our chat history, then at the box on the coffee table, its contents a searing indictment. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Then, laughing through my tears, I called my best friend. “Jess? Don’t you have a friend who works at Disneyland?” I cut straight to the chase. “Cole’s cheating on me.” “He’s at Disneyland,” I told her, my voice flat. “I need to know what kind of person he’d throw away ten years of marriage for.” I hung up the phone. I sat in the living room all night. I didn’t sleep a wink. Finally, a message from Jess came through. At the exact same moment, another one arrived from Cole: “Babe, I booked a flight for tonight. I’ll be home to make you some soup. Take care of yourself!” Below it was an emoji: [love you.] Then, I opened the file Jess had sent. It was a picture, taken this morning, of Cole and a young woman leaving a hotel together. Another photo showed them at the park, using a VIP entrance. Jess was furious in her message. “That bastard is actually cheating! Is he even human? Where would he be without you?!” I couldn’t process her words. I just stared at the picture of the girl, a strange sense of familiarity creeping over me. My heart skipped a beat. I frantically scrolled through my contacts, my eyes landing on a familiar selfie. I tapped open the chat. There was only one message, from six months ago. The girl had added me and sent me a small amount of money with a note: [This is for your troubles, miss.] I froze. I clicked on her social media profile and saw a new post from today. [My crush is treating me like a princess!] The photo was of her holding a bouquet of balloons, her smile radiant. It was a well-taken shot; the photographer had captured her perfectly. I scrolled down. A post from last night: a picture from inside a hotel room, of her cuddling up to a man’s arm, winking playfully at the camera. [He told me he’s loved me all along.] Further down. [He said yes! Officially mine! Congrats to me, hehe.] The picture was of their hands, fingers intertwined. And then, I scrolled further. The date stamp was from the day I miscarried. [My crush said nothing is more important than me. I’ll always be his number one priority.] The photo was of her on an IV drip, a man’s hand clutching hers tightly. Every post was a monument to their sweet, budding romance. But that hand… I had looked at that hand for nearly a decade. The scar on the back of it was too distinct. A scar he got because of me. If it weren’t for that. The stabbing pain in my heart was unbearable. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that Cole and I had come to this. A video from Jess’s friend came through with a message: “Should I keep following them?” I was already in the car, on my way to the airport to meet Jess. I told her friend to stay on them. Of course, I had to see. I had to know why the trip to Disneyland I’d been asking for, the one Cole never had time for, was suddenly possible for someone else. On the plane, my mind raced. I imagined storming up to them and slapping him. I imagined a screaming match with the girl, forcing Cole to choose. I imagined calmly walking up to him and telling him I wanted a divorce. In the end, I did none of those things. Jess’s friend got me through a side entrance, and I found myself standing near the carousel. And there he was. Cole, holding a camera, a gentle smile on his face as he filmed the girl. She blew him a heart-shaped kiss, and he, in turn, made the same gesture back—a gesture he’d never once made for me. The girl, sitting atop a white horse, shouted, “Cole, I love you!” She yelled, “I love you more than anyone in this world!” And I heard Cole’s voice, clear as day, call back. “I’ll love you too. Always.” I stood there, hidden behind sunglasses, a mask, and a hat, less than three feet away from them. I felt like a thief, spying on someone else’s happiness, listening to the man who had shared my bed for a decade declare his undying love for another woman. And I was nothing but an outsider. My fingers trembled until they were numb, the feeling spreading to my chest, where it felt as if a dull blade was being forced into my heart, twisting and tearing until all the warmth bled out, leaving only a dry, gaping wound. Tears blurred my vision. My body was shaking uncontrollably. Just as Jess was about to charge at them, I grabbed her arm and dialed Cole’s number. I watched him pull out his phone, glance at the screen, and then look back at the girl who was now getting off the carousel. He declined the call. Once. Twice. A third time. The girl walked over to him. “Who was that?” Then, she saw my name on the screen and her face soured. “Aren’t you ever going to divorce her?” she pouted. “If you don’t, I’ll always be the other woman, hiding in the shadows. Cole, I don’t want to be a mistress. I don’t!” Her voice rose to a whine. I watched Cole decline my call again, then pull the girl into a hug. “Okay, okay, my little princess. How could you ever be a mistress? You’re the treasure of my heart.” “Then what is she?” Cole fell silent, and my own heart squeezed tight. Yes, what was I? I held my breath, waiting. Then I heard Cole’s voice, dismissive and casual. “We’ve been together for ten years. There’s been nothing between us for a long time. It’s just… obligation. And after she lost the baby, I felt guilty.” “But I promise you,” Cole said, his voice firm. “Before your birthday, I will be in your social media posts, officially. How does that sound?” The girl beamed, throwing her arms around him and planting a loud, wet kiss on his cheek. The sound hit me like a sledgehammer, crushing the last sliver of hope I had for him. As they were leaving, Cole sent me a text to explain himself: [Babe, I’m still in a meeting. I’ll call you back when I’m done.] Then I watched him put his phone away and follow the girl back to their hotel. A little while later, she posted again, truly a princess in her castle. The photo was of her wearing a tiara, holding out her hand as a man kissed the back of it. Even without his face showing, the sweetness was palpable. Her caption read: [My crush promised me the most amazing birthday party ever… He’s going to make me a real princess!] I looked at her post and let out a sharp, mocking laugh. Then I took a picture of the Disneyland castle and posted it myself. [Ten years together, and you’re still the one by my side.] The picture was of me and Jess, smiling together. It didn’t even take a minute. Cole’s call came through. He sounded frantic. “Babe, you’re in L.A.? Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was tight with anxiety. When I didn’t answer, he grew more agitated, his eyes darting around as if he was terrified of spotting me. He was testing the waters. “I thought we were going to come to Disneyland together. Why did you go by yourself?” I found it hilarious. I had asked him to take me at least five times, and every time, he had an excuse, always leaving me with a vague, “Later,” or “Some other time.” He always said, “Babe, we have all the time in the world. I want to work hard now while we’re young, to build a better future for us.” And I actually believed he loved me. Maybe he did, once. But love can curdle. Over time, it can collect filth and rot, spawning uncertainties that lead to days like today. “Babe,” Cole said, so preoccupied that he ignored the girl who was tugging at his arm. He walked out of the hotel, scanning the area. “Why aren’t you talking to me?” “Babe, do you want me to come pick you up?” I watched him scurry around like an ant on a hot pan, savoring the sight for a moment before I calmly told him, “No, that’s not necessary.” I didn’t tell him when I was coming back, like I usually would have. I didn’t ask when he was coming home, either. He was the one to ask. “So, are you coming home today?” The panic in his voice was unmistakable. “Or are you staying in L.A. for the night?” I glanced at him from my vantage point and said with a small smile, “We’ll see.” I hung up and watched as Cole, visibly on edge, bundled the girl into a car and drove off. I was in a car right behind them. The taxi I was in wasn’t a coincidence; it was my arrangement. I had a clear view of the girl throwing a tantrum in the passenger seat. “You’re still scared of her, aren’t you?” “So what if she’s here? Is she going to eat us?” Cole didn’t know he was being watched. He simply silenced her with a kiss. After they landed, I followed them. He dropped the girl off at an apartment, and I realized with a jolt that it was a property we had bought right after we got married. It had been sitting empty all this time, or so I thought. I never knew he was using it as a love nest. I watched Cole return to our home. He sat in the living room, staring blankly at the box of condoms I hadn’t moved. Then, as if remembering something, a look of horror crossed his face. He snatched his phone and frantically dialed the girl’s number. Through the security camera feed on my phone, I watched him interrogating her. I heard her sobbing on the other end, and I heard Cole’s voice soften as he tried to comfort her. “Even if she knows, it doesn’t matter. We were going to have to face it sooner or later.” He was right. Sooner or later, we would have to face it. So when Cole called me, I was at a hotel, finalizing plans.

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When I opened my eyes, I was holding the pale, frail wyrmling. Without a second thought, I flung it into the dirt. Ten years ago, my sister Kelen and I found two baby wyrmlings in the woods. One was black, scales etched with ancient runes. It wound around Kelen’s wrist, pulsing with power. The other was a weak white wyrmling. I took it home out of pity, beginning a decade of tiresome care. Within a year, the black wyrmling took human form as Ronan, a man who treated Kelen like a queen. I, meanwhile, worked grueling jobs just to feed myself and the useless white wyrmling. By dating age, every guy in Silverpine avoided me—they said to ditch the snake, then they’d take me out. I threw them all off the porch. I used to stroke the wyrmling’s head, promising I’d never abandon it, even if it never took human form. Then a flash flood changed everything. The wyrmling I’d nurtured ten years suddenly transformed into a radiant Celestial Dragon. As I thrashed in the floodwaters, I reached for its tail—but it swam past me, gently lifting Kelen to safety. It had only ever had eyes for my sister, and had learned to take human form long before Ronan, hiding it from me all along. 1 Kelen placed the white wyrmling in my palm. She told me to look at its pristine scales, claiming it would definitely evolve into a dragon one day and treat me like a queen. She reminded me about Old Mrs. Higgins from the next town over, who picked up a similar creature and got blessed with endless fortune when it ascended. She playfully told me not to forget her when I hit the big time. A few locals walking by overheard and immediately got defensive. They praised Kelen for her sweet heart, noting that white wyrmlings were statistically more likely to ascend than black ones. They insisted that since I lacked Kelen’s gentle nature and gorgeous looks, the white wyrmling belonged with her. Kelen’s face flashed with fake hurt before she forced a brave smile, claiming she was the older sister and it was her job to let me have the best things. I frowned, staring down at the creature. Anyone with half a brain could see the white wyrmling was barely breathing. The black one, however, had eyes burning with vitality, its obsidian scales reflecting a mesmerizing, iridescent light. The townsfolk were clueless, but Kelen definitely knew the black one was the true prize. In my past life, I did not call out her bluff. The white wyrmling was covered in blood and looked too pathetic to abandon. But now, looking at the tiny creature bearing its fangs at me from my palm, I only felt pure disgust. Why had I never noticed before? He wasn’t acting out of trauma. He bared his fangs because he absolutely hated me. Smack! I chucked the white wyrmling straight onto a jagged rock, adjusted the strap of my gathering basket, and turned on my heel. Kelen gasped, dropping to her knees to scoop the creature up. She screamed at me, asking how I could be so cruel to a living breathing thing. I told her fate decides who lives and dies, and if it dies today, that is simply its destiny. Kelen yelled my name, her voice trembling. She called me cold-blooded, asking if I was really just going to stand there and watch it die. The surrounding villagers glared at me with open disgust. Whispers echoed around the dirt road. People muttered that I was rotten to the core. They praised Kelen’s beauty and kind heart, comparing me to background noise and calling me evil. I gripped the woven straps of my basket. Looking back, I saw Kelen wiping away fake tears, begging the crowd not to be so hard on me, which naturally only made them pity her more. She always pulled this stunt. She would paint a target on my back and then play the tragic peacemaker, acting like she was the one constantly bearing the burden of my supposed cruelty. I let out a dry laugh and told her that since she was so overflowing with kindness, she should just take both of them. Kelen froze, her eyes darting nervously. She stammered, claiming she couldn’t possibly hog such high-quality magical creatures all to herself. I waved my hand dismissively. I told her to take him, adding that I wanted absolutely no part of his glorious ascension. That shut her up. The white wyrmling was severely injured, and saving it would require a massive drain of time and money. But the villagers, having thoroughly judged me, turned to Kelen with hopeful, expectant eyes. They told her I was completely devoid of empathy and that she deserved all the blessings. They urged her to stop worrying about a selfish brat like me. Kelen stumbled over her words, pointing out how badly the creature was wounded. Suddenly, a blinding flash of white light erupted. Everyone gasped, shielding their eyes. I whipped my head around. A man in pristine white robes stood there, looking like a literal god descended from the heavens. A thin trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth only made his breathtaking, otherworldly beauty more striking. Several women in the crowd completely forgot how to breathe. I stood frozen in my tracks. The white wyrmling had just taken human form. 2 I tightened my grip on my basket. I had honestly believed he only figured out how to shift after I spent years nursing him back to health. Turns out, he could do it from day one. For an entire decade, he sat back and watched the entire town ridicule me for carrying around a useless, unshifted familiar, and he never lifted a single finger to help. Yet right now, in his most vulnerable and weakened state, he forced his transformation just to impress Kelen. Kelen immediately changed her tune, boldly declaring that his injuries did not matter and that she would take full responsibility for him. Shifting meant he was incredibly close to ascending to full dragonhood. The locals were utterly hypnotized by his divine appearance. Seeing me standing there in a daze, Kelen subtly stepped in front of him, blocking my view. She put on a sugary voice, telling me that since I explicitly threw him away and refused to listen to reason, she had no choice but to take him home. The villagers rallied behind her. They told Kelen she didn’t need to explain herself, insisting I had surrendered my rights and would be a joke if I tried to take him back. Kelen blushed perfectly, whispering that her sister wasn’t that kind of person. I stared coldly at the man. He peered over the crowd, his gaze locking onto mine. His desperate, forced transformation. That deep, complicated look in his eyes. I knew right then. He had reincarnated too. When I turned and walked away without a single ounce of hesitation or regret, a flash of pure confusion and shock rippled across his face. By nightfall, the entire town of Silverpine was gossiping about how I fumbled the greatest magical familiar in history. His celestial aura had everyone on their knees. No one doubted he would become a legendary Elder Dragon. They laughed at my stupidity and praised Kelen for her good karma. Everyone assumed I would be drowning in regret, crawling back to beg for his favor. But to their absolute shock, I didn’t even spare him a second glance once I got home. Finally, as we crossed paths in the hallway a few days later, a cold hand clamped down on my wrist. I yanked my arm, but his grip was like iron. He stared down at me, his brows furrowed in a silent, demanding question. He looked deeply dissatisfied. Was he wondering why I wasn’t obsessing over him this time around? Was he really that oblivious? Unable to break free, I brought my other hand up and shoved hard against his forearm, peeling his fingers off my skin one by one. I massaged my bruised wrist, muttered a few choice curses, and slammed my bedroom door in his face. Gabriel looked down at his empty hand, then stared at my closed door, his eyes flashing with a faint reddish tint. When someone is smothered in unconditional love for too long, they start feeling entitled to it. The second I pulled that love away, he probably felt like I was the one betraying him. Thinking about my past life, how I dragged him through storms and broke my back to keep him safe, I really thought we had a profound bond. Ripping that away so suddenly did make my chest ache a little. But later that night, I woke up parched. While heading to the kitchen for water, I heard hushed voices coming from the guest room. Someone was whispering, asking their Lord if he felt guilty about the younger sister, suggesting he become her familiar instead. I peeked through the crack in the door. Gabriel stood with his hands behind his back, bathed in moonlight, looking every bit the divine being he was. His voice was like striking crystal. He stated that since fate granted him a second chance, he was going to fix his biggest regret. A shadowy figure kneeling behind him asked about his older brother, pointing out that Ronan had already chosen Kelen. Gabriel glanced back, his usually cold eyes burning with a fierce, terrifying obsession. He declared he came back entirely for Kelen, and nothing in the realms would stop him from having her. He swore he wouldn’t back down, even if he had to fight his own brother. The sheer delusion of it made my ears ring, and I turned to leave. But before I could step away, the shadowy guard asked why the Celestial Lord was so madly in love with a mortal girl. Gabriel’s eyes softened under the moonlight. He spoke of a time he fell from the heavens and crashed at Dragon’s Cove. He swore he would never forget the girl who scooped his broken body up with her bare hands and guarded him for forty nine days straight. He admitted that without her, his divine trial would have failed, and his bones would have rotted in the dirt. Dragon’s Cove?! I froze dead in my tracks. My hands began to shake uncontrollably. That was the exact place I found a dying white wyrmling years ago. I kept him hidden in a cave, fiercely protecting him for forty nine days before he stabilized enough for me to carry him back to town. I had never told a single living soul about that. So the dying wyrmling at the cove and the magical familiar I raised were the exact same entity! My fingernails dug into my palms. A dark, bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. Gabriel, you absolute, monumental idiot. I had zero intention of correcting him. In this new life, my ambitions lay far beyond playing nursemaid to a blind god. 3 I drastically cut down my foraging trips into the woods. Instead, I spent almost every waking hour locked in my room, burying myself in advanced spellbooks and federal law texts. This routine lasted until the annual Spring Equinox Gala. Kelen practically kicked my door down and dragged me out of my chair. She whined that it was the biggest festival of the year, warning me that if I didn’t attend, the Spring Goddess wouldn’t bless me. I glanced back at my worn out copy of the Arcane Codex. Figuring I needed a break anyway, I gave a brief nod. Kelen shoved a shopping bag into my hands. She told me she bought me a beautiful new dress and threw out all my old, ragged clothes, insisting I had to look presentable. I read through another chapter before finally opening the bag that evening. The supposed beautiful dress was a hideous, blinding neon pink gown covered in cheap lime green floral patterns. The atrocious color clash would make anyone look like an absolute clown. I rummaged through my closet for something else, only to find it completely empty. She really had thrown everything away. Starving and exhausted from studying all day, I gritted my teeth, put the monstrosity on, and headed out to grab some food. The second I stepped onto the festival grounds, I ran straight into Kelen and her entourage. She was draped in elegant, ethereal white silk. Her friends gasped the moment they saw me. One mocked me, asking if I honestly thought I looked good. Another laughed, calling me an ugly attention seeker. She joked that I was trying way too hard to fit the floral theme, saying I just ended up looking like a tacky weed trying to steal the spotlight from Kelen, the reigning festival queen. They giggled, saying I definitely succeeded at stealing the show, just as the town jester. Someone pointed out that Kelen’s dress was woven from magical silk gifted by the great Lord Gabriel, sneering that a peasant in a clown suit like me didn’t belong in their presence. Kelen immediately put her hands up, begging everyone to stop. Her expensive perfume hit my nose like a physical blow. She grabbed both my arms, her eyes wide with fabricated shock. She asked why on earth I would wear something like this in public, immediately taking the blame and crying that it was her fault for not picking out something better suited for me. Tears welled up in her eyes on command. The crowd rushed to comfort her. They insisted it wasn’t her fault, saying I simply lacked the grace to pull anything off. They praised Kelen for being an angel, pointing out that the same outfit would look stunning on her, and begged her to stop beating herself up. Another girl chimed in, saying she refused to believe this was my only option. She blamed me for making my own choices just to embarrass Kelen. Kelen dabbed her eyes delicately, whispering that it broke her heart to see her own sister acting out like this. I looked right at her and asked her if she was done putting on a show. That single sentence silenced the entire group. I stepped right up to the girl who claimed I had other options. I challenged Kelen to tell everyone exactly who cleared out my entire closet. Kelen choked on her words. In the past, I would have just swallowed my pride and walked away, too exhausted to deal with their high school drama. But this time, I wasn’t letting her off the hook. I pointed at Kelen’s gorgeous gown. I noted that even if Gabriel provided the silk, the elegant design clearly came from her own refined taste. I asked her point blank why someone with such an immaculate eye for fashion would specifically choose a clown suit for me. Kelen covered her mouth, gasping dramatically. She accused me of suspecting her of sabotage. I swatted her hands away, telling her to drop the victim act. I asked if it didn’t get exhausting playing the innocent martyr all the time. I told her if she was truly innocent, we could all march back to our house right now and see exactly where my clothes were hidden. All the color drained from Kelen’s face. I turned around to lead the way. Kelen panicked, lunging forward to grab my arm, but I violently shoved her back. Kelen let her tears fall freely, crying out that regardless of whether she hid the clothes or not, my aggressive behavior was tearing our sisterhood apart. I told her we could talk about sisterhood after we searched her room. Just as I took another step, a sharp, piercing pain struck my wrist. I looked down. Two tiny puncture wounds. Snake bites. Suddenly, my mouth opened against my will. My vocal cords hijacked my brain. I began screaming that the pink dress was amazing, that I was way prettier than Kelen, and that I was going to prove to everyone she was a hideous monster. I yelled that even if I framed her by throwing the clothes in her room, everyone would still take my side! I clamped both hands over my mouth in pure horror. The crowd stared at me like I was a literal demon. One of Kelen’s friends shrieked, calling me a calculating psycho, and slapped me hard across the face. The mob descended. Hands grabbed my hair, slapped my cheeks, and tore at my clothes. They screamed that I should be grateful I even had rags to wear and that I didn’t deserve Kelen’s kindness. Shoved and beaten, I stumbled backward and had no choice but to break into a sprint, fleeing the festival grounds. Right before I turned the corner, I saw Gabriel materialize beside Kelen. He pulled her safely into his chest, shooting me a glare of absolute freezing contempt. Kelen buried her face in his shirt, perfectly masking the vicious, triumphant smirk on her lips. Remembering that flash of white light right before the venom hit my veins, I ground my teeth so hard my jaw popped. 4 While I was locked in my room nursing my bruises, Gabriel actually had the audacity to walk through my door. I slapped the bowl of medicine right out of his hands. Ceramic shattered, spilling dark liquid across the floorboards. He looked at me, his expression an unreadable mix of frustration and pity. He pulled a small pill from his pocket, grabbed my jaw with a vice-like grip, and forced the antidote down my throat. He warned me that if I spat it out, the venom would kill me. Glaring into his cold, threatening eyes, I swallowed the bitter pill. The uncontrollable urge to spout nonsense finally faded. He stood there for a few minutes, making sure I wasn’t having any secondary reactions, before turning to leave. Right as his hand hit the doorknob, he paused. He asked if I really didn’t have anything to say to him. He wasn’t stupid. He definitely realized I had reincarnated too. Yet, since the moment I woke up in this life, I had not spoken a single word to him. I closed my eyes, leaning back against the headboard, and told him no. He gave me one last, piercing look before shutting the door. After that incident, my reputation in Silverpine was permanently destroyed. Every time I stepped outside, people openly called me the ugly, manipulative psycho. I disappeared from the public eye for a few weeks. The rumor mill decided I had run away out of pure shame. But shortly after, I walked right back into town. Under Gabriel’s divine care, Kelen was practically glowing. Her beauty had taken on an unnatural, mesmerizing quality. Seeing me walk through the front door, she patronizingly patted my shoulder. She told me she knew I was bitter, but that part of growing up was accepting my own flaws. She lectured me about publicly framing her, calling it a toxic trait. She told me I couldn’t covet things that didn’t belong to me, explicitly stating that Gabriel’s love for her was out of my control. I grabbed her wrist and shoved her back. Kelen let out a delicate gasp, conveniently tripping right into Gabriel’s arms just as he walked into the foyer. Her eyes instantly filled with tears. She sobbed, asking why I couldn’t just accept her attempts to welcome me home. Gabriel’s face darkened. He pulled her firmly behind his back, acting like a knight defending his maiden, and ordered me to apologize. I just stood there and laughed in his face. His expression turned incredibly hostile. He told me that if I had a problem, I should take it out on him. He said romantic feelings couldn’t be forced, and that choosing Kelen was his decision alone. He warned me to stop pretending I didn’t care while secretly plotting against her. Before I could tell him where to shove his ego, a loud commotion erupted outside our window. A convoy of sleek black SUVs pulled into our driveway. A highly decorated official from the Federal Arcane Council stepped out, holding a gilded folder and grinning from ear to ear. He marched up to our porch and announced congratulations for Miss Morgan. He declared I had scored perfectly on the National Arcane Trials, catching the attention of the Supreme Magus himself, who was officially summoning me to the Capitol. Kelen screamed. She asked how a nobody like me could have secretly taken the highest magical exams in the country. 5 I smirked, looking her up and down. I pointed out that while she was busy engineering petty high school drama, she completely missed the federal mandate opening the exams to independent scholars. I walked past Gabriel, letting a cold smile touch my lips. I told him he was dead wrong. I told him he was never my endgame, and throwing him away was the easiest thing I had ever done. I whispered that compared to carving out a legendary legacy, his little romance meant absolutely nothing to me. Gabriel stopped breathing. He stared at me in pure, unfiltered shock. In our past life, I had rejected every wealthy suitor in the state just to keep him by my side. Now, I was dropping him like a bad habit without breaking a sweat. His brain couldn’t process it. But I wasn’t going to waste another second catering to his fragile ego. As I reached out to accept the official decree, Kelen moved forward out of pure jealousy, trying to touch the gilded folder. I swiftly stepped aside, dodging her hand. I asked her if she forgot her place. The Council official’s friendly demeanor instantly vanished. He glared at Kelen with lethal authority. He barked that a federal decree touched by the Supreme Magus was not meant for the filthy hands of an unranked civilian, and ordered her to bow her head immediately. Kelen’s eyes burned bright red. Under the crushing magical pressure of a federal enforcer, she humiliatingly sank to her knees. The official turned back to me, his face melting back into a sycophantic smile. He practically begged me to arrive at the Capitol by the seventh of next month, promising the government would cover all travel expenses. He gushed that shaking up the entire Council on my first try meant I was destined for a seat on the High Board, and begged me not to forget the little guys when I made it big. He pressed a heavy velvet bag filled with solid gold coins into my hands. The entire neighborhood watched this unfold in stunned silence. A few of the locals who had insulted me actually slapped themselves across the face, terrified I would use my new federal authority to wipe them out.

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My fiancée, Dr. Audrey O’Bryan, had just been promoted to Head of Department. To celebrate, I’d picked out a Hermès bag I knew she’d love, a little surprise to mark the occasion. But as I stepped into her office at the hospital, a young resident shot me a hostile glare. “This is the department head’s office,” he snapped, his brow furrowed. “Outsiders aren’t allowed in.” I managed a smile, explaining that I was Dr. O’Bryan’s fiancé. His eyes, however, were glued to the luxury shopping bag in my hand. I rarely came to the hospital, but being sized up like this felt…unpleasant. Suddenly, a strange smirk crossed his face. He turned, announcing he would go get Dr. O’Bryan. While he was gone, I noticed a half-eaten container of takeout on her desk. A pang of sympathy hit me—she was working so hard. I decided to tidy up for her. The moment my fingers closed around the plastic container, the resident burst back in, two burly security guards in tow. “That’s him!” he yelled, pointing a trembling finger at me. “He’s the one trying to bribe Dr. O’Bryan right here in her office!” The guards lunged forward. The gift, the takeout box—everything nearly crashed to the floor. 1. Before I could process what was happening, two massive security guards had my arms twisted behind my back. The resident, a man named Chase according to the ID clipped to his scrubs, noticed me staring at his name tag. He ripped it off and shoved it in my face. “What, you want to file a complaint?” he sneered. “Go ahead! But you’ll have to wait until you’re out of a jail cell.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m Dr. O’Bryan’s assistant. I will not allow a social parasite like you to tarnish her reputation!” A social parasite? That was a heavy accusation. I knew the relationship between doctors and the public could be tense, but this was City Central Hospital. It was founded nearly a century ago by a renowned philanthropist, a place famous for its integrity. It had never been associated with scandal. “I’m family!” I protested, my voice rising. “I’m Dr. O’Bryan’s fiancé! What right do you have to accuse me of anything?” “Fiancé? Ha! More like a gold digger. I don’t know how you found out Dr. O’Bryan is in charge of procuring new medical equipment, but you picked the wrong person to bribe.” He jabbed a finger toward the door. “Get out of this hospital now, or I’m calling the police.” The guards tightened their grip, their fingers digging deep into my biceps. Through the open door, I could see patients peering in, their faces a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. I gritted my teeth against the pain. “You’ve got this all wrong. I really am her fiancé. Think about it—if I were trying to bribe her, would I do it in broad daylight, in her office?” Chase laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “See? The fox shows its tail! So you admit you’re here to bribe her!” “You wish you could have met her in private, don’t you? Too bad for you, she’s too important to meet with scum like you. So you got desperate and tried this stunt!” I was starting to lose my temper. This guy’s imagination was working overtime. “Whether I’m her fiancé or some medical supplier, you’ll find out the truth when Dr. O’Bryan gets here,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You have no proof. On what grounds are you having me detained?” “Proof?” Chase glanced around, then snatched the shopping bag from Audrey’s desk. With a dramatic flourish, he dumped the contents onto the floor. The luxurious leather bag landed with a soft thud. “This is your proof!” he declared, his voice ringing with triumph. “I’ve seen this exact bag on their website. It’s priced at fifty thousand dollars.” He smirked. “How does fifteen years in a federal prison sound?” He waved a dismissive hand at the guards. “What are you waiting for? Take him away!” They shoved me out of the office. I struggled, but their grip was like iron. The onlookers in the hallway parted like the Red Sea, their whispers following me like a swarm of angry bees. “Disgusting! Trying to bribe a doctor!” “A fifty-thousand-dollar bag… how many lives did that cost?” “People like that deserve to get sick and have no one to treat them!” “Good on City Central for not tolerating this kind of corruption!” A few men looked like they were ready to physically attack me. “You’ve got it all wrong!” I yelled, desperate. “That bag is a gift for my fiancée, Dr. Audrey O’Bryan! Her picture is on the wall outside her office. Please, someone just get her!” I pleaded with the crowd, then turned back to Chase. “Just let me make one phone call! She’ll clear this all up!” He gave me a condescending look but signaled for one of the guards to release my hand. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. No answer. I tried again. It went straight to voicemail. The crowd’s murmurs shifted from curiosity back to open hostility. Chase’s laugh was laced with scorn. “You say you’re her fiancé, but she won’t even answer your call?” Then I remembered the half-eaten takeout on her desk. “She’s in surgery, isn’t she? You can’t take phones into the operating room!” I said, a sliver of hope returning. “I’ll wait right here until she’s finished.” Chase just shook his head. A guard shoved me forward, and I stumbled, crashing into a chair. The back of it slammed into my stomach, and I doubled over, nausea churning in my gut. “Still won’t give up, huh? You’re determined to frame Dr. O’Bryan?” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “Don’t think I’ll tell you her whereabouts! I just need to take you to one person to expose your little charade!” 2. Chase led the way, the two guards marching me behind him. We entered the inpatient ward and stopped at room 308. An elderly woman, probably in her sixties, was resting in the bed by the window. She opened her eyes as we entered. “Mrs. Lee, are you resting well?” Chase said, his voice suddenly warm and friendly. “You have a visitor!” He gestured toward me. “Who is this?” the woman asked, her eyes clouded with confusion. I was just as lost. Why had they brought me to see this old woman? “Hello,” I said, out of politeness. “Young man, do I know you?” Chase chuckled. “Of course you don’t. That’s the point. This man claims to be Dr. O’Bryan’s fiancé.” He turned to me, his eyes gleaming with malicious triumph. “If you’re really Dr. O’Bryan’s fiancé, how is it that you don’t recognize her own mother?” The world tilted on its axis. My mouth fell open. That was impossible. Audrey’s mother was dead. I was there. It was her mother’s death that had caused Audrey to collapse from grief. I had taken care of her in the hospital for a week, and that’s when our love story began… Chase misinterpreted my stunned silence as guilt. “The evidence is all here,” he declared. “What else can you possibly say for yourself?” “Take him to security! Don’t let him disturb the patients.” I snapped out of my daze. Just as the guards were about to push me out of the room, I broke free and lunged toward the old woman’s bed. “Are you really Audrey’s mother? But… she’s dead!” The woman erupted in a violent coughing fit. “What an insolent young man, cursing me to be dead!” she gasped between coughs. “Security! Security!” A guard kicked me hard. I was so close to the bed that my forehead slammed against the metal frame with a loud crack. The bed shuddered, and I crumpled to the floor, blood streaming from a gash on my head. The patient in the next bed screamed. “He’s killing her! Someone’s going to die!” “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Lee, I’m so sorry!” Chase said, rushing to the woman’s side. He shot a venomous glare at me. “It’s all this fraud’s fault. He tried to bribe Dr. O’Bryan, and then had the audacity to impersonate her fiancé. I had to bring him here for you to identify him.” Mrs. Lee finally caught her breath and gave Chase a disapproving look. “How can you be Audrey’s assistant and not even know what her fiancé looks like?” “Yes, yes, you’re right,” Chase stammered, bowing his head. “It’s all this con man’s fault. He’s so devious!” “Audrey told me,” I said, my voice hoarse, “that her family favored sons over daughters. Her original name was a boy’s name, and she changed it herself in college. Is that true?” I stared at Mrs. Lee, searching her face for any flicker of deceit. There was none. “What nonsense are you spouting!” she exclaimed. “My daughter’s name has always been Audrey! Her father wanted her to be an inventor, like Edison!” Her voice rose in anger. “First you curse me to be dead, and now you’re spreading lies to ruin my daughter’s reputation, our family’s good name!” “I…” She clutched her chest, gasping for air. Chase quickly administered oxygen and shot the guards a look. They moved to drag me away. I wiped the blood from my face and roared, “I’m not leaving! I want to see Audrey, face to face!” I clung to the leg of the bed, refusing to let go. “You!” the old woman wheezed. “Call her! Call Audrey and tell her to get back here!” Chase glared at me and stepped out of the room to make the call. Once she had calmed down a bit, Mrs. Lee beckoned me closer. “Come here, young man.” The woman in the next bed leaned in, curious. Mrs. Lee pulled out her phone and swiped through her photo album. There were several pictures of her and Audrey, smiling together. Then she played a short video. Someone else was filming as Audrey sang “Happy Birthday” to her, and Mrs. Lee beamed with joy. My heart turned to stone. This woman was undoubtedly Audrey’s mother. Why had Audrey lied to me? 3. About half an hour later, the door opened. Chase walked in, but Audrey wasn’t with him. Instead, a young man in a sharp suit, his hair perfectly coiffed, followed him in, carrying a bouquet of carnations. “Mom, I’m so sorry you were frightened,” he said to Mrs. Lee, his voice smooth and apologetic. He then turned to me. “Let’s go to Audrey’s office. We shouldn’t disturb the elderly.” “Where’s Audrey?” I demanded. “I need to see her!” “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue now that the real fiancé is here?” he said with a mocking smile. “Or are you just scared of what I might do to you?” “You say you’re Audrey’s fiancé. Prove it.” He burst out laughing, a loud, booming sound that filled the small room. “Prove it? Hahahaha…” Chase looked at me like I was an idiot. “Did you hit your head too hard? Are you trying to scam the hospital?” “This is Dr. O’Bryan’s mother!” he sneered. “And he just called her ‘Mom’! She’s already acknowledged him as her son-in-law. What more proof do you need? A moron like you probably wouldn’t even believe a marriage certificate!” He gave me another contemptuous look. “Besides, his name is Evans.” I didn’t get it. What was so special about the name Evans? “He’s the director’s nephew,” Chase explained, his voice dripping with admiration. “And the second son of the Winston Group, the largest medical equipment conglomerate in the state. Mr. Julian Evans.” “Our Dr. O’Bryan is from a good family, she’s beautiful, and she’s a brilliant doctor. She’s not for just anyone,” he continued, his tone condescending. “A wealthy, handsome man like Mr. Evans is a perfect match for her. You?” He scoffed. “I bet that bag wiped out your entire savings. A small-time company like yours can’t compete with a giant like the Winston Group.” The guards dragged me away. As we walked down the hall, I could hear the whispers of the nurses and patients. “Did you hear? Some medical supplier tried to bribe Dr. O’Bryan by pretending to be her fiancé. And her real fiancé caught him in the act!” “Dr. O’Bryan is the youngest department head in the hospital’s history. It’s true what they say, success breeds jealousy.” “I heard about that incident in orthopedics last year. A surgical robot malfunctioned, and the patient’s family raised hell for three days straight. The hospital had to pay out over a million dollars!” “These shady medical suppliers should be drawn and quartered!” … The Hermès bag was still on the floor of Audrey’s office. Julian Evans propped his feet up on her desk, his expensive leather shoe resting right on top of it. I bit back my anger. “It’s rude to put your feet on someone else’s gift.” He grabbed a pen holder from the desk and threw it at me, then kicked the bag across the floor. “Who the hell do you think you are, lecturing me about manners?” he sneered. “Tell me, which pathetic little company do you work for? You think a fifty-thousand-dollar bag is enough to buy your way in here?” “Not talking? Don’t worry, I have my ways of making people talk.” The guards forced me to my knees. I looked him straight in the eye. “This is a hospital. We live in a civilized society. Are you really going to resort to torture?” Julian raised an eyebrow. “Scared? Then start talking. I want to know which third-rate company is trying to steal business from the Winston Group.” “I told you, I’m not here to bribe anyone. I’m Audrey’s fiancé. Here, these are our engagement rings.” I struggled to my feet and retrieved the two rings from the bag. Our initials were engraved on the inside of each band. Julian’s lips curved into a wry smile. “Interesting. I’ve never seen a bribe come with engagement rings before.” He made a phone call. Less than five minutes later, Audrey walked in. “Honey,” Julian said, a lazy drawl in his voice, “this man insists he’s your fiancé.” Audrey gave me a cold, dismissive look. “He’s just some rich kid who’s been chasing me for years,” she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. “Leo, if I ever gave you the wrong impression, if I ever made you think I was interested, then I apologize. But please, stop harassing me.” The wrong impression? Hah. So our five-year relationship was all in my head. “The wrong impression? Was it the wrong impression when I went with you to scatter your mother’s ashes at sea? Or when you told me you came from a poor, rural family that didn’t value daughters? Or is the mole on your back just my imagination?” I hated to reveal something so private, but her heartless betrayal left me no choice.

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When I opened my eyes, I was back—back to the day my brother Ian was about to sign up for the international boxing tournament. This time, I snatched the form and wrote my own name over his. In my past life, Ian had a system that let him transfer all his pain to me. Every blow he took, I felt. It made him a $25 million-per-fight champion, while I became a walking case of chronic pain, covered in bruises no one could see. My family dismissed my suffering. When I told them the truth, they said I was just jealous, cracking under pressure. “Pain transfer? If that were real, cancer patients wouldn’t need morphine,” they’d say. Each of his fights was my hell. Once, the agony sent me to the ER with a cerebral hemorrhage. Doctors were baffled; they thought I was self-harming. It ended the day Ian, drunk on fame, took on five opponents at once. He won—spectacularly. But I was the one who paid. My body gave out, my skull fractured, and I died right there in the crowd. 1 Just before he was supposed to register, Ian spammed the family group chat with videos of his training sessions. As I watched, a phantom bruise bloomed around my left eye, and a deep, bloating pain radiated from my stomach. It was Saturday morning. I had just woken up, planning to go downstairs for a quiet breakfast. Even reborn, it seemed, my fate was still tethered to his. Anytime he got hurt, the wounds and the agony manifested on me. A tremor ran through me, my scalp prickling with dread. In the group chat, Ian kept posting. There he was, in a workout tank, eyes feral as he unleashed a flurry of blows on a punching bag. He looked like a god of war. [Dad, Mom, I was born for this. One opponent is a joke. Watch me show you what I can really do.] He followed up with more arrogant texts. My aunt immediately chimed in, fawning like a groupie. [Ian, you’re incredible! If my son were half as driven as you, I’d be living the high life by now.] Then came a photo: Ian, holding the boxing registration form to his chest, boasting that he was about to spar with two opponents at once. I threw on my clothes and raced to his training gym. If he kept this up, I was a dead man walking. In the car, I pulled up the news on the international tournament. Reborn, I wouldn’t let myself be a victim again. And I would uncover the truth behind my death. When I walked into the gym, my parents were already there, their faces glowing with pride as they cheered Ian on. The moment their eyes met mine, their expressions curdled into contempt. “Alex, we told you not to bother your brother while he’s training,” my father snarled. “You’re just a paper-pusher with a dead-end job. You’re not even in the same league as him. Get out.” 2 “Your brother has a major competition coming up,” my mother added, her voice sharp as glass. “This is the most critical time for his training. If you distract him, I swear I’ll have your hide!” In my past life, after Ian graduated from the sports academy, my parents pinned all their hopes on him. They secretly transferred my entire life savings, thirty thousand dollars, to his account. He needed it, they said, for “proper nutrition” to fuel his grueling training. When I demanded my money back, my father slapped me across the face. “Your brother is making this family proud! So he used your thirty grand? If he wins this fight, the prize is twenty-five million dollars! What’s your pathetic savings compared to that?” Back then, Ian’s training videos were all over social media and the family chat. Even if I tried to ignore them, I couldn’t escape. But then things got strange. After every match, every sparring session, my body would erupt in crippling pain. Sometimes I couldn’t even walk. Then came the cerebral hemorrhage. The doctors told me it was the kind of injury caused by a severe impact, and they warned me to avoid all strenuous activity. I tried talking to my parents again. They just rolled their eyes, convinced I was consumed by jealousy. They had become his managers, negotiating his contracts and appearance fees. They were terrified I would sabotage their cash cow. More than once, I collapsed at home, convulsing in agony, only to be found by a neighbor who rushed me to the hospital. The doctors would lecture me, assuming I was some fitness fanatic who was pushing my body to its breaking point. It all culminated in that final fight. Ian, in a fit of showboating, demanded to fight five opponents simultaneously. The referee agreed, announcing that a victory would double his prize money. That day, my body was pulverized. My soul drifted upwards, and I watched as my parents embraced Ian, tears of joy streaming down their faces. He was the world champion. They moved into a mansion, draped themselves in gold, and lived a life of luxury. They never even bothered to claim my body, letting it be disposed of in an unmarked grave. Back then, I couldn’t understand what I had done to deserve such a fate. But now, I didn’t care. He wanted my life? Fine. I’d drag him to hell with me. I stormed into the training room, ripped the registration form from his hand, and tore off my shirt, throwing it to the ground. “Ian,” I said, my voice thick with false emotion, “you’re my brother. Seeing you work this hard for the competition… it breaks my heart. I’ve decided I’ll fight in your place. I’ll take on all the hardship. You just stay home and enjoy your life.” Ian froze, his fist hovering in mid-air. He stared at me, bewildered. “Alex, the fight is next month. I’m training. This isn’t some game. You, fight for me? Are you trying to be funny?” I ignored him and strutted in front of his coach. My well-defined eight-pack immediately caught his eye. I’d always been a gym rat, and my physique was naturally more imposing than Ian’s—taller, with leaner, more powerful muscles. And frankly, I was better looking. At this point, Ian was only a local gym hero, hyped up by family and friends. The coach’s eyes, however, were on me now. He nodded slowly, a look of appreciation on his face. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” 3 Ian respected his coach too much to argue. He stepped out of the ring, giving me the floor. I tossed aside the headgear, the gloves, the mouthguard, and the groin protector—all the gear Ian never fought without. I was all in. I needed to know if this system worked both ways. If I took a beating, would the marks appear on him? I started sparring with one of the guys and quickly gained the upper hand. The coach clapped, impressed. “You’re not a pro, but your form is solid. You’ve got real potential.” I shot Ian a smug look. “See? Even your coach thinks so. I bet I can win this thing. And if I do, you can have all the prize money. How about it?” My parents had invited all our relatives to watch. Now, their attention was entirely on me. Ian’s face darkened with humiliation. I studied him, looking for any sign of pain from the punch I had just taken. Nothing. He was just glaring at me, looking like he wanted to rip my head off. Was it because one punch wasn’t enough? “Let’s get the other three guys in here,” I announced. “I’m ready for all of them.” Ian panicked. “Alex, what if you get killed?” “How about this,” I proposed, “You and I fight. Winner takes all. The loser quits boxing for life.” He started to put on his headgear and climb into the ring, but I pushed him back down. “Ian, I’m doing this for you,” I said, my voice dripping with concern. “Mom and Dad love you. You’re my baby brother. What would they do if you got seriously hurt? Haven’t you seen what happens to boxers? Guys go blind, some even die in the ring. It’s brutal.” I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, secretly pinching my own thigh hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. “Boxing can be your hobby, but I can’t let it destroy you.” The relatives were moved. Some of them were actually crying. They applauded me, calling me a wonderful, caring brother. They told Ian to sit down and let me take his place. Ian pleaded with our parents, but they had already heard the coach mention the possibility of “double the prize money.” Their eyes were gleaming with greed. All they cared about was the payout. Who actually fought didn’t matter. The fact that I, the “failure,” had more potential than their professional son was just an unexpected bonus. But after a few rounds, I was getting dizzy from the blows. I glanced over at Ian. He was just standing there, face a mask of fury, showing no signs of discomfort. This wasn’t right. I was taking a beating, and he was completely fine. So, it was a one-way street. My injuries didn’t affect him at all. Only the pain he was supposed to feel transferred to me. Once I was thoroughly exhausted, I called a stop to the session. “That was a great training session, guys. Thanks for your cooperation. That last hook taught me a lot about my defensive reflexes. Let’s call it a day and pick this up tomorrow.” With that, I made a quick exit. As soon as I was out of sight, I collapsed in an alley, gasping for breath. 4 It was three in the morning, and I couldn’t sleep. If I didn’t figure this out, I was going to die, and I wouldn’t even know how. On my way to the bathroom, it felt like a sledgehammer slammed into my head. Stars exploded behind my eyes. I steadied myself against the wall, only for a nauseating pain to erupt in my stomach. My temples throbbed, and it felt like a dull knife was twisting between my bones, tugging at my organs with every movement. I fumbled for the painkillers and swallowed two, but the familiar relief never came. Instead, the pain crashed over me in a fresh wave, more intense than before. A sickening feeling washed over me. I unlocked my phone, and the first thing I saw was Ian’s latest social media post. It was a picture of him in front of a bar, his foot planted triumphantly on the chest of a one-eyed man. The caption read: [Just doing my civic duty. Can’t stand bullies who prey on the weak, especially when they’re harassing women!] He then started a video call in the family group chat. On the screen, the one-eyed man broke free and lunged at Ian, plunging a knife into his shoulder. I screamed, the pain so blinding I nearly passed out. My hands shaking, I furiously typed in the chat. [Are you an idiot? See a hero, be a hero, but know your limits! Call the cops! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!] My warning did nothing. Ian just rolled up his sleeves, smashed his fist into the man’s face, and ripped the knife out of his own shoulder, throwing it aside. [I’m not just taking him down. I saw his wallet. It’s full of pictures of abused young women. These guys are traffickers. I’m going to take down their whole operation and put them all behind bars!] As he spoke, a group of muscular men surrounded him. They were skilled fighters. They beat him to the ground. I felt every blow, my body screaming in agony, feeling like it was about to tear itself apart. [RUN! You’re the one getting hit, but I’M the one in pain! Do you have a death wish?!] [JUST RUN! I ALREADY CALLED THE POLICE FOR YOU!] I sent message after message, but Ian didn’t move. He just stayed there, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he stared into the camera. A heavy, pounding sensation hammered at my skull, a sharp, explosive pain wrapped in a dull ache. My vision blurred into a sea of red. I managed to dial 911. “Help me…” I choked out, before my consciousness faded to black. Just like in my last life, I was rushed to the hospital for a massive cerebral hemorrhage. The doctors pleaded with me to avoid any and all strenuous activity. As they examined me, one of them shook his head in disbelief. “This is bizarre. You said you were home all day, but your injuries are severe. Bruises and internal bleeding all over, two broken ribs… what happened to you?” I said nothing. Later that night, I snuck out of the hospital and went home. I was going to make Ian pay. The moment I walked in the door, I pulled out a knife and pressed it to his throat. “Alex, are you crazy? I’m your brother!” I gritted my teeth, a murderous rage boiling inside me. “Cut the crap. Tell me the truth. Why is it that when you get hit, I’m the one who feels the pain?” He blinked, his face a mask of perfect innocence. “Bro, are you delirious? What are you talking about?” I pressed the blade deeper into his skin. “Still playing dumb? You really want to die, don’t you?” A cold sweat broke out on his forehead. “No, bro, don’t! Okay, okay, I’ll tell you everything I know.” But the moment I let my guard down, he shoved me aside and sprinted upstairs. “Mom! Dad! Alex has lost his mind! He’s trying to kill me!”

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