Category: English

1 When Eddie’s childhood friend’s company went bankrupt, he wanted to use the hundred thousand dollars I had set aside—our child’s life-saving fund—to rescue her. I begged him to give the money back, but all he said was, “June will earn it back. You need to be more forward-thinking, not some paranoid miser.” When I demanded he have her sign a promissory note, he called me cold and heartless. Later, his friend cried that the money was all gone and she would starve. Eddie held her, comforted her, and promised to support her for the rest of her life. I quietly packed my bags and called my father. “Dad, you were right. Eddie is a piece of work. I’m coming home to take over the business.” … I had just hung up the phone when Eddie emerged from the bedroom. “Anna,” he said softly, “go make some soup for June. She’ll be hungry when she wakes up.” I ignored him and started walking toward my own room. His face darkened, and he blocked my path. “Anna Chevalier, it was just a hundred thousand dollars. Are you still throwing a fit about it? Don’t you have any compassion?” His voice rose. “If you’re not going to listen, then get out.” His shout woke June. She propped herself up, draping an arm over Eddie’s shoulder and shooting me a look of pure disdain. “Honestly, Eddie. You were the campus king from high school through grad school, and your family is well-off. How did you end up with such a petty girl?” Eddie sighed, his eyes on June. “Not everyone can be as generous and easygoing as you.” He glanced at my stomach. “But we already have a child on the way. It’s too late for regrets now.” I cradled my belly, staring at the impatience etched on Eddie’s face. Could I even have this child? My doctor had already told me this was a high-risk pregnancy. To have any chance of carrying the baby to term, and to ensure its health afterward, would cost at least a hundred thousand dollars, from prenatal care to the first few years of life. And even then, there were no guarantees it would be a healthy child. Now, with each passing day, I could feel the fragile life inside me growing weaker. And that hundred thousand dollars was gone. I had to divorce Eddie. Only when I went home, alone, would my father give me money again. When I had defied him to marry Eddie, he had forbidden me from ever mentioning my family’s background, worried it would crush Eddie’s pride and ambition. I was only three months along. Maybe it was better not to bring an unhealthy child into the world to suffer, especially with a father like this. But what hurt the most was that Eddie knew. He knew that money was meant to save my life and our child’s life, and he still gave it to June without a second thought. If two human lives meant less to him than June, then there was no reason for me and my child to stay. I turned and went to my room to grab my purse and suitcase, ready to head to the hospital. June lunged forward and grabbed my suitcase. “Anna, stop it!” she yelled. “Don’t pull this ‘running away from home’ drama to make things difficult for Eddie.” “I’m going out to drink with clients tonight,” she declared, her voice laced with theatrical martyrdom. “Even if I have to drink until my stomach bleeds and I pass out in someone else’s bed, I, June, will pay you back. Happy now?” Eddie, who never set foot in the kitchen, heard the commotion and came running out. June had already changed into a flimsy, black silk slip dress. She patted Eddie’s shoulder as she walked towards the door. “Bro, I won’t let you be put in a tough spot. I’m going to go earn that money. You just handle your wife.” Eddie rushed to the door and bolted it. For a fleeting moment, a spark of hope ignited in my heart. Was he afraid I would leave? He strode towards me, and I held my breath, waiting for an apology. Instead, his voice, cold as ice, lashed out at me. “Anna, you are the most vicious woman I have ever met. You’re a woman yourself. How could you force June to sell her body to pay you back?” 2 Before I could even explain, Eddie ripped the purse from my shoulder and threw it into the fireplace. He glared at me, his eyes burning with cold fury. “No ID, no credit cards. Let’s see how far you get now.” Then he turned to June, his voice softening. “June, we’ve known each other for years. You’re closer to me than my own brother. You don’t have to pay me back. We can sell the house, sell the car if we have to. Go change. I’ll take you out for a nice meal.” He wrinkled his nose. “The smell from that burning bag is toxic. We can’t eat here.” I scrambled to the fireplace, trying to retrieve my purse, but it was already a melted, gaping mess. My ID, the last few hundred dollars in cash I had, all of it was gone. The screen of my phone had cracked and warped in the heat. Fearing it might explode, I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a pair of barbecue tongs, and carefully pulled the phone from the flames. As Eddie and June left, he deliberately triple-locked the door from the outside. I was trapped. My phone was broken. He had done this on purpose. But had he forgotten? I hadn’t eaten either. The morning sickness was unbearable; I had no strength to cook. There were no snacks in the house, because I’d been too sick to go shopping. I lay on the bed, my stomach growling with hunger, my body wracked with waves of nausea. I didn’t even have the energy to make myself a bowl of soup. Then I felt a warm gush between my legs and the metallic scent of blood. Something was terribly wrong. Using every last bit of strength I had, I crawled to the window. I saw the lights on in the apartment below. I grabbed a laundry pole and banged it repeatedly against my neighbor’s window, screaming for help. The lady downstairs, Mrs. Gable, knew me well. She knew about my difficult pregnancy. Her voice, filled with alarm, carried up to me. “Honey, don’t you worry! I’m calling 911 right now! I’ll get the building manager to open your door!” Within ten minutes, the paramedics and the building manager were there. The door was open. I frantically borrowed Mrs. Gable’s phone and called Eddie. I had no money, but he had just received a ten-thousand-dollar bonus. He answered quickly. “Eddie, you have to come back,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “I’m bleeding. The paramedics said I might lose the baby.” I heard a soft scoff from the other end. It was June. “Anna, you’re just like one of those women in a palace drama. Using the baby to get your man’s attention.” The blood was flowing faster now. I couldn’t hold back my fury. “Have you no shame? It’s the middle of the night and you’re still hanging all over a married man!” June didn’t answer. She tossed the phone aside but didn’t hang up. I could hear music in the background. They were at a karaoke bar. It was a duet. Eddie and June, singing a classic song about friendship. I could just make out the line: “One word, a lifetime. One drink, an eternal bond.” I screamed his name into the phone, but he couldn’t hear me over the music. As their voices rose in a powerful, off-key crescendo for the final chorus: “There’s still pain, there’s still hurt, there’s still a long road, and there’s still me.” I hung up the phone. I should never have held out hope for Eddie. His friendship, his loyalty to her, would always come before his wife and child. But were they just friends? The sobs finally broke through. I called my dad. He told me he would have a friend in the city, Mr. Sterling, deliver cash immediately, and that he would have all my documents reissued within a day. Only then did I allow myself to be taken to the hospital. The surgery was under general anesthesia, but I still felt a deep, dull ache in my heart. Eddie had been so excited for this child. We had even picked out names, one for a boy and one for a girl. He knew how dangerous this pregnancy was. But the moment June needed something, he forgot everything else. I had always believed that once the baby came, over time, he would see the warmth of the home we had built. He would see how much I loved him. He would choose us over her. Now I knew. It was all just a foolish dream.

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Fred insisted I get a hysterectomy to cement our child-free commitment. It was our ultimate pact. Ten years later, he surprised me with adopted twins to raise. I devoted myself completely. Eighteen years later, they got into Ivy League schools. At their acceptance party, Fred slid asset transfer papers toward me. My mother grabbed my arm in panic. “You can’t give them everything! We don’t even know their origins!” I calmly replied, “I trust my judgment.” When my father’s slap cracked through the hall, shouting “Disgrace!”, I still signed. Fred’s triumphant grin appeared as he embraced another woman. She smugly presented divorce papers. “Thank you for caring for my family,” she cooed. My slow smile matched hers. “Of course.” … Eighteen years ago, Fred, the man who had sworn we’d walk through life hand-in-hand, just the two of us, came home with those twins. They were a little scrawny, a bit dark-skinned, but they had these infectious giggles that charmed everyone instantly. He told me he’d found them at an orphanage. From that day on, I became a mother. I was there for every scraped knee, every feverish night, every nightmare. I nurtured them, guided them, and eighteen years later, they had Ivy League acceptance letters in their hands. The news that I was transferring my entire fortune to them at the party sent shockwaves through our social circle. Friends and family descended on me, all pleading for me to keep something for myself, a safety net. I ignored them all. I signed the papers. The moment the documents were in his hands, Fred couldn’t contain his joy. A loud, booming laugh escaped him as he strode through the crowd, pulling a woman I knew all too well toward me. Together, they presented the divorce papers. The terms were simple: I would leave with nothing. My world tilted. A roar filled my ears as I stared at him, the sense of betrayal a physical blow, a shard of ice piercing my heart. This was the man for whom I had sacrificed my womb, my ability to ever bear my own children. For years, I had been the perfect wife, the doting mother—a role model in our community. And now, this. My voice, when it came, was a ragged scream. “Fred! You and Vivian… you were together all along!” Vivian. A cunning, ambitious woman who had started as a junior employee at my company and, with a few well-placed smiles and manipulations, had climbed her way up to director. She just smiled, a picture of poise. “Don’t be angry, Lana. If you truly love Fred, you should be willing to sacrifice for his happiness.” Fred’s voice was sharp with impatience. “Just sign it already. What are you waiting for?” We met in college. Fred came from nothing, a kid from a dirt-poor town who could barely afford tuition, let alone food. He used to hide in his dorm, surviving on stale bread. Malnutrition had left his hair thin and his skin sallow; he walked with a perpetual stoop. I found him collapsed on the athletic field one day and carried him to the campus clinic myself. That’s when I learned about his struggles. I started covering his expenses. One thing led to another, and we fell in love. Vivian was his high school sweetheart, a flame I thought had long been extinguished. I was wrong. They had reconnected and conspired behind my back. The whispers in the ballroom started to swell. “My God, can you believe this? The moment she signs the assets over, he drops the act.” “I heard they swore to be child-free. Then he just shows up with two kids. Now we know why.” “I bet those twins are his and that homewrecker’s.” “You think? It’s obvious! Why else would he push Lana to give them everything?” “Poor Lana. Played for a fool for almost two decades.” My mother’s face was slick with tears. “Lana, you see? You walked right into their trap. Your father and I warned you. We told you that man was a shark, that he was only with you for the money. We told you something was off about those kids, but you wouldn’t listen!” My father, who had returned, his face pale with fury, spat, “How did I raise such an idiot? Throwing away a family legacy for a man like that!” The noise, the accusations, the pity—it all swirled around me. I kept my head down, staring at the divorce papers. No one could see the smile playing on my lips. “Don’t blame me, Lana,” Fred said, trying to sound reasonable, as if justifying his affair would soothe his conscience. “I’m a normal man. You couldn’t have children. I had to find someone who could.” I finally looked up, a bitter laugh escaping me. “You were the one who begged me to have the surgery! You said it would protect us from ever changing our minds. I did that for you.” “That was then! The reality is, you’re barren. I wanted my own legacy, so I went to Vivian.” Vivian nodded in agreement. “Exactly. What’s the point of a woman building an empire if she has no one to leave it to?” A murmur of assent rippled through the hall. My mother, her voice trembling with memories, turned on Fred. “You came from nothing! Your family was so poor they couldn’t even afford to eat, let alone send you to school. Your own mother was dying, and you didn’t have a penny for her treatment. If it wasn’t for Lana’s family stepping in, you and your mother would be dead!” “We didn’t ask for a dowry. We gave you a house and a car when you married our daughter.” “You loved sweet and sour ribs, so Lana hired the best chefs and even learned to make it perfectly herself. Your brother was jobless for years, his own family had left him, and Lana’s father gave him a managerial position with a six-figure salary!” For a moment, the three of us were lost in the past. “We gave you everything,” my mother whispered, her voice breaking. “And you repay us by stealing our family’s fortune.” Fred was silent for a beat, then a cold smile spread across his face. “What’s the point of bringing all that up now?” He looked at me. “Alright, Lana. Are you going to stare at those papers all night?” “It doesn’t matter if you sign or not,” he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. “The assets are already in the children’s names. All that’s left in our joint account is a few thousand dollars. Consider it a parting gift for your years of service. For your retirement.” The crowd buzzed again. “He’s right. Without Lana, his mother would be dead and he’d be nothing.” “Her father was too generous. He let a viper into his home.” “And look at him now, so smug…” Hearing them, Fred’s grin widened until it looked like it might split his face. CRACK! My father, moving faster than I’d seen him move in years, lunged forward and slapped Fred hard across the cheek. “You animal!” To see his daughter’s life savings stolen, to know she’d sacrificed her body for this snake—it was too much. “Security! Get this old man! Teach him a lesson!” Fred bellowed, his face contorted with rage and humiliation. The same guards who had been bowing and scraping to my father just an hour ago now closed in, their expressions menacing. “You dare touch me?” my father thundered, his old authority still carrying weight. The guards hesitated, but Vivian, emboldened by their new power, surged forward and struck my father herself. My father froze, stunned. He was a respected figure, the former president of the state’s business association, a man who mingled with governors and billionaires. To be struck by this… this nobody… was the ultimate insult. He was about to explode, but I pulled him back. The guests were aghast. “They hit Mr. Gable?” “The man has donated millions to charity, built schools for the poor… and they treat him like this?” “You can’t blame them entirely. It’s his daughter’s fault. She chose this path. Didn’t she know a man can have kids at eighty, but a woman’s choice is final?” “It’s always the children who squander the family fortune. If I had a daughter like that, I’d disown her!” “What a pair of vipers. They deserve a special kind of hell. But here they are, the richest people in the city…” The crowd seethed with a mixture of pity for me and contempt for them. “Had enough?” Fred snarled, his glare sweeping across the room, silencing the chatter. He turned his cold eyes back to me. “Lana. Yes or no? Are you signing?” “I’ll sign.” The agreement was brutally simple. A few thousand dollars. I was being thrown out with less than nothing. I picked up the pen and, with a steady hand, scrawled my name. Fred snatched the document, his eyes scanning the signature. A wave of relief washed over him, replaced by a sneer. “Excellent, excellent. Thank you, Lana, for the generous gift of a multi-billion dollar fortune. Our family won’t have to work for generations! You truly are our greatest benefactor.” Vivian raised a champagne flute. “You’re like a second mother to me! I have to toast to that!” she crowed, downing the glass. I smiled. Oh, really? Let’s see who has the last laugh. My father watched them, gloating and triumphant, the legacy his great-grandfather had built now in the hands of thieves. Suddenly, he choked, a spray of blood erupting from his lips as he collapsed to the floor. His heart was weak; my hysterectomy years ago had nearly killed him from the stress. “Dad!” “John!” My mother and I, along with our relatives, rushed to his side, a frantic scene of chaos and fear. Fred noticed a man who was helping us, his brow furrowing. “Ethan? What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for this washed-up old hag.” Ethan and Fred had grown up together, two poor kids from the same town. Fred never missed a chance to mock him, calling him a country bumpkin. Ethan just gave a small, unreadable smile and said nothing. My father regained consciousness, and they helped him to a quiet room to rest. “Where are their precious Ivy League twins?” someone whispered. “I heard they went to pick up their official acceptance letters.” Just then, two figures in school uniforms appeared at the entrance. They were a bit overweight, but they walked in with a sunny, confident air. When they saw me, their faces twisted in disgust. They walked straight past me to Fred. “Dad! Aunt Vivian! We got them!” the girl, Maya, chirped. Fred beamed, pulling them close. “From now on, you’ll call her ‘Mom’.” “Mom.” “Mom.” The word, from the children I had raised, directed at another woman, was a knife in my gut. “Good children,” Vivian cooed. “Now Mommy doesn’t have to sneak into your school just to see you anymore.” My own mother was shaking with rage. She pointed a trembling finger at them. “Maya! Mason! Your mother raised you for eighteen years! Is this how you repay her?” “Mason, you were such a sickly child, always running a fever. One night, it spiked to 104. Your mother drove you to the hospital herself in the middle of a thunderstorm!” “And Maya! In high school, you fell in with that punk crowd. They were going to drug you at a party, but your mother showed up with help just in time. She was stabbed ten times protecting you! You would have been ruined if not for her!” “She was the one who taught you what to do when you got your first period, for God’s sake!” The two teenagers fell silent, a flicker of something—shame, perhaps—in their eyes. It was all true. I had given them everything. After a moment, Maya tossed her head. “Whatever. It’s not like she’s our real mom.” Mason chimed in, “Yeah, look in a mirror. You were never good enough to be our mother, Lana.” He then threw a piece of paper on the table in front of me. A paternity test. It confirmed what everyone already suspected: they were Vivian’s children. A collective gasp went through the room, even though it was an open secret. “My God, the rumors were true.” “It was obvious from the start. A man who wants to be child-free suddenly adopts twins? Please.” “Lana is the biggest joke in the city. She raised her husband’s illegitimate children, gave them her fortune, and now they call another woman ‘Mom’.” All eyes were on me, a mixture of morbid curiosity and pity. They were waiting for the breakdown, the hysterics. Instead, I pulled out a document of my own. “Maya, Mason,” I said, my voice clear and steady. “Since we’re clearing the air, let’s sign this. A formal disownment.” The room fell silent. Eighteen years of devotion, thrown away just like that? Maya let out a shrill laugh. “You’re disowning us? We couldn’t be happier!” They signed the papers without a second’s hesitation and went to sit with Fred and Vivian. The four of them beamed at each other, a perfect, happy family, finally out in the open. “Excellent,” I said, a genuine smile spreading across my face. I had given them a final test of character, a chance to show a sliver of loyalty. They failed. Some people, like the sun, are impossible to look at directly without being burned. No one in that room could possibly understand why I, a shrewd businesswoman with a billion-dollar empire, would willingly walk into such an obvious trap. “Lana, this party has nothing to do with you anymore. You can leave,” Fred announced, the lord of the manor. “And please have yourself and your parents out of the house by tonight. The deed is in my children’s names now.” “I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

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I decided to take my father’s offer. I would leave my husband and son behind and go back to being his precious daughter. It was all because, after my surgery, I could suddenly hear my family’s true thoughts. My husband, Leo: 【Such a minor issue, and she’s been in the hospital for days. Now she’s home and still not doing anything. Can’t she see my suit needs ironing?】 My son, Noah: 【The surgery cost so much money, and now she’s drinking my favorite yogurt. Why can’t she be a boss like Aunt Corinne, instead of just sitting at home being a freeloader?】 My mother-in-law: 【Of all the times to come back, she had to show up right when I was making chicken soup. I’ll just add some of the dishwater from washing the pot and tell her I put in too much water.】 My heart turned to ash. I turned around, closed the bedroom door, and dialed my father’s number. “Yes, just me. I’m not bringing anyone.” It wasn’t until the next evening that Leo came home, my mother-in-law and son trailing behind him with bored expressions. The moment the door opened, the sweet, cloying voice of his colleague, Corinne, drifted from his phone. “Oh, Audrey, I’m so sorry! It was my birthday yesterday, and I can’t believe Leo skipped picking you up from the hospital just to celebrate with me. I’ve already given him a piece of my mind.” She was pretending to scold him, but the mockery in her voice was so thick it practically dripped from the phone. I watched Leo silently, about to speak, when my son’s thoughts flashed through my mind. 【Aunt Corinne is so gentle, not like my mom. She’s such a tigress, always nagging me about my homework.】 【Why can’t Aunt Corinne be my mom?】 My son leaned against the doorframe, scowling. I looked at the child I had carried for ten months, and a sharp pain lanced through my heart. Before I could react, Leo sat down on the edge of the bed, his voice a mask of gentle concern. “You should be lying down. You’re a grown woman, you need to take better care of yourself. If you get sick again, I’ll be really angry.” His tone was as warm and caring as ever. If I couldn’t hear his inner thoughts, I would have fallen right back into his tender trap. 【Look at her, so dramatic. Is she going to throw a tantrum?】 【I have to keep her calm. If she gets angry and blurts out that this dump of a house is her prenuptial property, how am I supposed to keep Noah looking up to me?】 I suddenly wanted to laugh, but no sound came out. I had fallen for Leo at first sight, desperate to be with the poor scholarship student. I’d cut ties with my parents, run away from home, and had our son, Noah, out of wedlock. For ten years, on top of my job, I had taken care of this entire family’s every need. Now, after taking a short leave from work for breast surgery, I had discovered their true colors. A nest of vipers. I yanked the covers out from under Leo, my face a mask of displeasure. From the phone, Corinne’s voice was filled with feigned distress. “Leo, is Audrey mad at me because she’s not talking? You have to smooth things over for me!” My mother-in-law, who had just arrived, immediately saw the tension and stepped in to mediate. “Corinne, dear, don’t mind her. She’s just a housewife, not very presentable. Not like you, so young and successful. Audrey, if you’re not feeling well, just get some rest. We’re about to head out to help Corinne pick out furniture for her new house.” As she spoke, her inner voice echoed in my mind. 【Hmph! What a waste of money. A simple cyst, and she had to have it removed. Tens of thousands of dollars, just gone!】 【Thank goodness my son has latched onto a successful businesswoman. A promotion and a raise are practically guaranteed. He’d never get rich staying with this woman.】 I looked at my so-called family, their faces hidden behind masks of false concern, and felt nothing but cold indifference. “Leo,” I said, my voice flat, “since you’re all so busy, why don’t you sign the divorce papers on the dresser? Then I won’t bother you anymore.” My words left them all gaping in shock. “Audrey, that’s enough,” Leo snapped. “So I didn’t pick you up from the hospital. Is that a reason to threaten me with divorce just to make me apologize? Corinne already explained what happened yesterday. I’ve been incredibly busy these last two days, with a mountain of work at the office. You’re out of the hospital, so just rest and recover. Don’t cause trouble for me.” Before he could finish, my son’s face lit up with excitement as he looked at Leo. 【Dad, sign it! Sign it!】 【I can’t stand this old hag for another day!】 【If you divorce her and marry Aunt Corinne, I can get the coolest gaming gear!】 Leo, however, seemed to miss his son’s cues, a different thought running through his mind. 【She was the one who was desperate to marry me. There’s no way she can live without me.】 【This divorce thing is just a tantrum. She’ll be over it in three days.】 It was Corinne on the phone who broke the silence. It was laughable, really. Leo had been clutching that phone like a lifeline since he walked in. “Audrey, please don’t misunderstand. There’s nothing going on between Leo and me. Please don’t let me affect your marriage.” I ignored her completely. “Leo, I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’m informing you.” I was tired. I was done serving this family of ungrateful parasites. Sensing the cold indifference on my face, Leo, who had been halfway out the door, turned back, his tone softening. “Audrey, it was just a ride from the hospital. You’re home safe now, aren’t you? Don’t make a big deal out of nothing. Corinne even called specifically to explain things to you. Don’t be so unforgiving. You used to be so understanding and reasonable. How did one little surgery turn you into such a drama queen? You need to calm down. Don’t do anything impulsive that you’ll regret later.” I couldn’t be bothered to respond. I pulled the covers over my head and turned away. I didn’t sleep all night. Neither Leo nor the others came home. Since I had decided to leave, I planned to move my things to the new villa my father had bought for me. It would be a better place to recover. The villa was his welcome-home gift. All those years ago, I had thrown away my life as a wealthy heiress to run off with Leo. My parents were angry, but they were helpless. In the end, afraid I would suffer, they bought me the house we were living in now as my prenuptial property. But for the sake of Leo’s pathetic pride, I never corrected his lie that he had bought it himself. Because of that, my mother-in-law had never missed an opportunity to make snide remarks, and my son had learned to look down on me too. For ten years, my father had repeatedly asked me to come home and take over the family business. I couldn’t bear to leave Leo, and I couldn’t bear to leave my son. I always refused. But now that they had all found someone new to latch onto, my leaving shouldn’t matter at all. I went to a law firm owned by my father’s company. As I was getting into a taxi, I got a call from the moving company. “Ms. White? Is it convenient for you to come to the delivery address? There seems to be a problem with it!” The driver sounded anxious, and I could hear arguing in the background. I urged the taxi driver to hurry to the villa. When I arrived, I was stunned. The yard of the brand-new villa my father had bought for me was a chaotic mess, and clothes were hanging on the balcony. And Corinne, the “boss” Leo had been talking about, was standing there in her pajamas, hands on her hips, blocking the movers from entering. “Ms. White, are you sure this is the place?” the head mover asked, embarrassed. I remembered what Leo and his mother had said about picking out furniture for Corinne’s new house. I had assumed she had just bought a new place and was decorating. I never imagined her “new house” was the villa my father had given me. I also remembered my father mentioning on the phone that he had been sponsoring a female student. I looked at Corinne and everything clicked. So, the “successful businesswoman” Leo was so proud of was just an imposter, using my house to put on airs. And Leo, my son, and my mother-in-law had all been completely fooled, thinking they had struck gold with a wealthy woman. I was about to expose her when she spoke first. “Ms. White, this house was a gift from my father. What are you doing here? This is a high-end neighborhood. If you break anything, you won’t be able to afford it. As I recall, your family doesn’t have much left, unlike me. My parents would give me the moon if I asked for it.” She lazily ran a hand through her hair, her face glowing with smug satisfaction. I couldn’t be bothered to argue. I pulled out the deed to the house and said flatly, “This is my villa. Please leave immediately.” The words were barely out of my mouth when my son peeked out from behind Corinne, a brand-new gaming console in his hands. “Mom, seriously, you need to know your limits. If you could afford a big villa like this, do you think I’d be begging for a game console? Did the anesthesia from your surgery mess with your brain?” My mother-in-law chimed in. “Audrey, that’s enough. Don’t embarrass yourself in public.” Corinne burst out laughing. “Your villa? That’s hilarious. It’s not that I look down on you, but with your four-thousand-a-month salary, you couldn’t afford this place if you worked your whole life. And now you don’t even have that job.” She turned to the security guard who had hurried over. “Is this how you do your job? Letting any riff-raff in? If something goes missing, are you going to pay for it?” The guard bowed and scraped, apologizing profusely, then turned to me with a threatening glare. “How did you get in here? You have three minutes to leave, or I’m calling the police.” The moving truck was blocking the road, and a crowd of onlookers had gathered. “What’s going on? Didn’t Mr. Sterling give this villa to Miss Corinne? How did another owner suddenly appear?” “Maybe she’s some kind of lunatic. Look at how shabby she’s dressed. She doesn’t look like she has any connection to the Sterling family.” “An illegitimate daughter?” “Don’t be ridiculous! Mr. Sterling adores his wife. There’s no way he has an illegitimate child!” As the crowd buzzed, Corinne basked in their praise, her chin held high. Suddenly, Leo pushed his way through the crowd. The man who was usually impeccably dressed and obsessed with cleanliness was wearing old work clothes, his hands full of cleaning supplies. He was apparently here to help Corinne with the initial deep clean. A chill went through me. In all our years together, even when I was recovering from childbirth, he had never lifted a finger to help with the housework. He didn’t even know how to use the mop. “Corinne, it’s dirty out here. You should go inside. You have allergies, you can’t be breathing in all this dust.” “Yeah, Aunt Corinne! Dad and Grandma are here to help. You should go take a beauty nap. Don’t stress yourself out over unimportant people.” At that, my mother-in-law rolled up her sleeves, ready to get to work. The father and son duo chattered on, completely ignoring me. After years of me serving them, they never once offered to help. I remembered when my allergies were acting up, and I asked my mother-in-law to sweep under the bed. Leo had just yelled at me for acting like a spoiled princess, saying I had the diseases of the rich without the wealth. “Just wear a couple of extra masks! Plenty of people have allergies, do they just stop cleaning their houses and living their lives?” At the time, I had actually felt guilty, apologizing for not adapting to his lifestyle quickly enough. Only now did I understand. It wasn’t that he didn’t know allergies were miserable. It was that my misery didn’t matter. Corinne was clearly delighted by their fawning. Her sharp, spiteful demeanor melted away, replaced by a delicate frown as she covered her nose. “Leo, it’s not that I don’t want to go inside. But with Ms. White here, I have to be a good hostess.” Finally, Leo’s gaze followed Corinne’s and landed on me.

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1 I unclipped the rescue harness from my dog’s back and announced I was done. We weren’t going back into the mountain. Steven, clutching his tiny chihuahua, went pale. “If you don’t take your search dogs back up there, I’ll kill them,” he threatened. I just unhooked the leash and let my dog, a highly trained German Shepherd, bolt for home. I knew how this story ended. In my first life, when the wildfire broke out, Steven claimed he could talk to dogs. He demanded I hand over my search and rescue team, the dogs I’d spent years training. I thought he was insane, of course, and went into the mountains alone with my dogs to find the trapped hikers. But no matter how hard I pushed, Steven, with that ridiculous chihuahua in tow, always beat me to the victims. Every single time, just as my dogs would get a scent, he’d already be there, a so-called hero. I ended up finding no one. He, on the other hand, was credited with saving over a dozen lives. The final report listed more than thirty fatalities. Steven blamed me. He told everyone that if I had just given him my dogs, everyone could have been saved. The victims’ families believed him. In their grief and rage, they cornered me. They beat me and my dogs to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the fire started. “Damien, just give the dogs to Steven!” The familiar voice of my fiancée, Sara, snapped me back to the present. “He can understand them! He’ll find the hikers faster!” I looked around, the scene sickeningly familiar. This was the moment it all began. Steven, holding the chihuahua that Sara and I had raised together, was grandstanding, claiming his mystical ability to speak “dog.” “Damien, are you deaf?” Sara snapped, impatient with my silence. I tightened my grip on the leash, my voice tight. “You actually believe this nonsense?” I looked at the other volunteer rescuers gathered around us. “Are you going to trust an experienced K9 handler, or some random guy who suddenly claims he’s Dr. Doolittle?” The volunteers didn’t hesitate. They chose Steven. To prove his “gift,” Steven let out a string of bizarre, guttural noises. My three search dogs, usually calm and focused, became agitated, barking wildly at the sky. Steven shook his head, a pained, pitying look on his face. “They say you abuse them,” he announced gravely. “That you feed them the cheapest food. They say you worked one of their packmates to death during training. You’re no handler. You’re a monster.” The crowd’s mood turned ugly. Murmurs of “animal abuser” and “disgrace” rippled through the group. As they started to advance on me, my three dogs, my loyal partners, formed a protective barrier in front of me, snarling at the angry mob. “See?” someone yelled. “They’re vicious! They can’t even tell good from evil!” Steven stepped forward again, closing his eyes as if in deep concentration. “They say their friends and family are back at your training facility. They have to obey you, or you’ll hurt them.” Rage boiled in my gut. It was a classic protective stance, any dog owner would know it. But he was twisting it, painting me as a villain. I knew arguing was useless. I had to show them. “I’m not giving you my dogs,” I said, my voice ringing with authority. “If you want to save lives, follow me.” In my past life, I had charged into that burning mountain, driven by a desperate need to help. This time, I had a different mission. This time, I remembered where every single one of those thirty victims was trapped. This time, I’d see how he could possibly be faster than me. My plea fell on deaf ears. The volunteers all rallied behind Steven. The most painful part? Sara didn’t choose me either. She stood right beside him, just like before. “Sara?” I asked, a sliver of hope still flickering. “You don’t believe me either?” “Of course not,” she said, her voice cold. “You might be a great trainer, Damien, but you can’t talk to dogs. Steven is a miracle worker. Now I can finally know what my baby is thinking!” Her “baby” was the chihuahua in Steven’s arms. Sparky. A dog I had helped raise, a dog I had grown to love. Sara used to say she’d never let a stranger hold Sparky. But I’m a dog handler. I could see the tension in Sparky’s body, the subtle signs of distress. Sara, who had spent years with that dog, had to see it too. But she chose to ignore it. A bitter smile touched my lips. Years of partnership, thrown away for this charlatan. But there was no time to argue. People were dying. “Let’s go,” I commanded my dogs, and we plunged into the smoky woods. Behind me, I heard Steven’s smug voice. “Even without your dogs, Damien, I’ll still find them first! Everyone, teams of five! Let’s move out!” The volunteers surged into the mountain. I pulled out my satellite map, the one I had marked with the locations from my memory. I gave the commands, and my dogs, the best I had, shot off in the designated directions. They didn’t disappoint. Within half an hour, they were signaling a find. I raced after them, my heart pounding. In my first life, it had taken an hour for the first victim to be found. I was a full thirty minutes ahead. No one could be faster. As I broke through a thicket of charred brush, I froze. It was impossible. Steven was already there. His team had already stabilized the injured hiker. He looked up at me, not with surprise, but with a look of smug satisfaction. “Well, well, look who finally showed up,” he sneered. “With that kind of speed, are you sure those are even search dogs? I’m starting to doubt your so-called expertise.” “You just got lucky!” I snarled, my hands clenched on the leashes. But I knew it wasn’t luck. The fire had made the terrain treacherous, blocking paths and obscuring landmarks. A human’s sense of smell was useless here. Even a regular dog would struggle. My dogs were the best of the best. How could he have found them so quickly? It was the same question that had haunted my first life. Now, it was screaming in my mind again. I turned to leave, to find the next group. “Hey,” Steven called after me. “If you can’t handle it, just give me the dogs. I could work a lot faster with them.” “Damien, if anyone else dies because you were too slow, it will be your fault!” Sara added, her voice sharp with accusation. I ignored them and pushed on. But the same thing happened again. And again. No matter how early I was, no matter how precise my knowledge, Steven and his team were always there first. It was like he knew my every move. I stopped and knelt, running my hands over my dogs, searching for a tracking device. Nothing. So how was he doing it? If I didn’t figure it out, I was doomed to repeat my fate. Could he really understand dogs? But there were no other dogs on this mountain, except… Sparky. No, that was ridiculous. Sparky was a pet. A pampered lap dog. He couldn’t be a search dog. I looked at my map. I knew of eight locations. Steven had already “rescued” five groups. In my first life, he only found four. The timeline was all wrong. I had to know. I decided to follow him. For two hours, his team wandered aimlessly through the woods. They looked like lost tourists, not a professional rescue team. They found no one else. Finally, exhausted, everyone headed back to the base camp to rest. When I arrived, Steven was already there, a megaphone in his hand, riling up the crowd. “If I just had one proper search dog, I could have found everyone by now! We wouldn’t even need to go back out this afternoon! I wonder how many people our great K9 handler Damien brought back with his three dogs.” He saw me then, and I knew. He had been waiting for me. This was all a performance, a re-enactment of the trap he’d laid for me in our first life. My three dogs made me an easy target. All eyes were on me. “So, how many did you find, master trainer?” Steven asked, his voice dripping with false concern. I wanted to punch him. He could see I was alone. “None,” I gritted out. “What? You had three dogs and you found no one?” A wave of outrage swept through the crowd. Steven fanned the flames. “I heard the dogs say that Damien just took them for a walk in the woods! He wasn’t even trying to find anyone!” I wanted to scream. But they believed him. He was the one who could “talk to dogs,” after all. “I was searching!” I yelled, trying to defend myself. “But somehow, Steven always got there first! You have to believe me!” It was useless. They were already convinced I was the problem. They started demanding I hand over my dogs. Just as they were about to rush me, a group of people with cameras and microphones appeared. The local news. My heart, which had been pounding in my chest, finally settled. This was the one thing I had done differently. The first thing I did after I came back was call the press. The presence of the cameras stopped the mob in their tracks. They immediately shifted gears, praising Steven to the reporters. “It was all thanks to Steven! If he couldn’t talk to dogs, we wouldn’t have saved so many people!” A reporter turned to Steven. “Is it true you’ve rescued eight people so far, all by communicating with a dog?” “That’s right,” Steven said, puffing out his chest. “And if I had a real search dog, I could have saved even more. The most despicable part is that Damien, here, refused to help. I think he was just trying to hoard all the glory for himself.” The cameras swung to me. In front of everyone, I calmly began to unbuckle the harnesses from my dogs. “Since you all think I’m just trying to be a hero,” I announced, my voice clear and steady, “I won’t be taking my dogs on the afternoon search.” The crowd jeered. “Fine by us! Steven can find everyone by himself!” “Yeah, you’re useless anyway! Just stay here!” But to my surprise, Steven panicked. He grabbed my arm, his eyes wide with fear. “No! You and your dogs have to come!” I just smirked and unclipped their leashes. At my command, my three dogs turned and raced back towards our home. Steven screamed and ran after them, stumbling over a rock and falling flat on his face. “No! Come back! You can’t leave!”

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Everyone believed Christine Thorne adored me. Even after my father and I were exiled from the family empire, she kept our engagement. She rehearsed our wedding ninety-nine times for perfection. What no one knew? Each rehearsal had a different groom—one of her ninety-nine lovers, chosen by lottery. “Scott, darling,” she’d purr, “you’re already my husband. Let them have one wedding each… that’s fair, no?” I’d take her cash and rush to the hospital. The charade shattered on our real wedding day. When she walked down the aisle with my mother’s illegitimate son, I broke. “Anyone but him!” I begged. Her smile was icy. “I’m pregnant with his child. Don’t be like your pathetic father, begging for his hospital bills.” Under a hundred mocking stares, I fled with the money—just in time to see my father jump. His blood hit my face as his dying whisper came: “Stop begging her.” 1 I held my father’s cooling body, my own blood turning to ice in my veins. My mouth was open, but no sound came out. Christine’s ringtone sliced through the silence. I answered on instinct. Her lazy, sensual voice purred through the phone. “Scott, darling. Leo and I are having our wedding night, but we’re out of condoms. Be a dear and pick some up.” My fingers trembled, about to end the call, but she wasn’t finished. “Oh, and grab a bag of those gummy bears he likes. The boy has a sweet tooth. I need to keep him happy.” My mind flashed back to the night she rescued my father and me from a squalid little apartment. She had slipped a ring onto my finger, her touch gentle. “Trying to hide from me? You made me look for so long.” “Even if you’re not a Vance anymore, you’re still my husband, Scott. I will give you the most perfect wedding.” That first night, I was still in a daze. She popped a candy into my mouth, her voice laced with pity. “Don’t be scared. Have a candy. From now on, life will only be sweet.” I knew about her reputation, her notorious flings, but I fell for her anyway, greedily devouring every scrap of affection she threw my way. I never cared about the lovers; I told myself it was all an act. But Leo was different. She was carrying his child. In our five years of marriage, no matter how passionate things got, Christine always took precautions. My greed had finally caught up to me. The one exception she made was for the person I hated most in the world. If it weren’t for Leo and his mother, my father would still have a wife, and I would still have a mother. As always, she hung up first. I watched, numb, as the men from the funeral home wheeled my father away. When they handed me a small, heavy box, I finally shattered, the sobs tearing from my throat. Just as I received the death certificate, my phone rang again. “Mr. Vance? The DNA results are in. Your father was the long-lost son of Alistair Kane.” “We’ve already booked you a flight. Would you be willing to meet your grandfather? And please, don’t be afraid. The rumors about him are greatly exaggerated.” I clutched my father’s ashes, tears blurring my vision. “Yes,” I whispered. “Excellent. In three days, have your documents ready. Someone will be there to pick you up.” I returned to the villa, a ghost in my own home. A group of drunk women were laughing loudly in the living room. “Christine, isn’t Leo your husband’s half-brother? I thought you hated him. Why was he the groom today?” Christine swirled the red wine in her glass, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her face. “I had no choice. The father of my child needs to have a respectable lineage.” After a round of boisterous cheers, someone asked cautiously, “But what about Scott?” Christine’s smile turned wicked. “Oh, Scott? He’s so well-behaved. I could fuck other men right in front of him, and he’d just dutifully hand me a condom. It’s just a wedding. I’ll make it up to him later.” The women roared with laughter. “Aren’t you afraid he’ll actually get mad and leave? I mean, if it weren’t for Leo, he’d still be the Vance heir!” Christine shrugged. “He won’t. Even if I kicked him out, he’d get on his knees and beg me not to leave him.” “After all,” she added, her voice dripping with contempt, “his pathetic, dying father depends on my money to stay alive.” I staggered backward, bumping into someone standing silently behind me. “Brother, you’re back.” I turned to see Leo’s face, my eyes hardening. “I don’t have a brother.” I started to walk away, toward the side door, but Leo let out a sudden, sharp cry. “Ah!” The chatter in the living room died instantly. 2 Christine sauntered over, hands in her pockets. She saw Leo on the floor and then gave me a long, meaningful look. “Did you push him?” Leo scrambled to explain. “No, no, it wasn’t my brother! I just tripped.” Then, he started to sob softly. “Christine… my stomach hurts…” Christine clicked her tongue and helped him up, then shot me a cold glare. “Come here.” She guided Leo back into the main villa, lifting his shirt to inspect his stomach as if he were a precious, fragile treasure, completely ignoring my presence. The other women exchanged glances and quietly slipped out, whistling mockingly as they passed me. Before, no matter how promiscuous she was, they never would have dared to be so brazen. They were smart. They could see that Leo was different from the ninety-nine other lovers. And so, I was now relegated to their status—an object to be toyed with and disdained. The realization sent a splinter of pain through my long-numb heart. She didn’t ask a single question. She just looked at me, her face a mask of indifference. “Scott. Apologize.” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. “I didn’t push him.” A cruel smile touched Leo’s lips as he whispered to the butler, “Go get the master’s cat.” My blood ran cold. “What are you doing?” Christine’s smile was brutal. “Scott, Leo isn’t like those other men. He’s my partner, the heir to the Vance Corporation, and he is carrying my child.” “I will not tolerate anyone hurting the father of my baby. Including you.” “So, you need to learn your lesson. There are consequences.” As she finished speaking, the cat—my cat—was thrown into the scalding hot pot on the dining table. It let out a shriek of agony that would haunt me forever. I lunged forward, but Christine grabbed me, forcing my head down, making me watch as the little creature that had been my only comfort for ten years was boiled alive. She leaned in, her whisper a venomous caress in my ear. “This time, Scott, it’s just the cat. If you dare touch Leo again, the next thing you should weigh will be your father’s life.” A single, silent tear slid down my cheek. The memory of her defending me in front of her other lovers now felt like a cruel joke, a boomerang that had come back to strike me between the eyes. Then, she slid a divorce agreement in front of me. “Sign it. My child can’t be born a bastard.” I stared, trembling, at my cat floating in the bubbling broth. It was the only solace I had left after being thrown out of my home, and now, just like my father, it was gone. This marriage had no meaning anymore. I took the pen and signed my name with a steady hand. Christine’s brow furrowed for a split second, a flicker of surprise that I hadn’t hesitated. She scoffed. “Since you’re no longer my husband, you can move into the servant’s quarters. From now on, you’ll earn your father’s medical fees with your own labor.” A bitter smile twisted my lips as I remembered my father’s last words. “That won’t be necessary.” Just then, the sound of retching came from my room. My heart sank. I burst in to see my bedsheet, a gift from my father, covered in vomit. Leo stood up, a look of faux apology on his face. “Sorry, brother. It’s my wedding day with Christine, I guess I drank a little too much.” He pulled a ten-dollar bill from his wallet. “This sheet looks pretty old anyway. Here’s ten bucks for a new one.” SLAP! My eyes were bloodshot as I struck him across the face. “Leo, you’ve gone too far!” He clutched his cheek, looking tearfully at Christine, who had followed me in. “Christine, I didn’t mean to! I already apologized!” The next thing I knew, a searing pain exploded across my own cheek. 3 She had used all her strength, knocking me to the ground. She didn’t even glance at me. Instead, she rushed to Leo’s side, gently examining his face. “Did that make you feel better?” Leo whimpered, burying his face in her arms. “It was my fault. I ruined my brother’s bedsheet.” Only then did Christine’s gaze fall on the filthy mess on my bed. “Burn it,” she said, her voice flat. “No! My father gave that to me! I can wash it, please, don’t burn it!” She knew. She knew I had nightmares every night, that only by clutching that sheet could I find any peace. But she ignored my desperate pleas, turning to the servants behind her. “The new master of the house has arrived. Throw out all of this old junk.” CRASH! Our wedding portrait was torn from the wall and swept out of the room like trash. All I could hear was the echo of her vow from that day. “I, Christine Thorne, swear to love only Scott Vance for the rest of my life.” As the flames licked at the sheet, I dove toward the fire pit, snatching it from the embers with my bare hands, trying to smother the fire with my own body. Blisters immediately rose on my skin. Christine rushed to my side, grabbing my hands, her eyes sharp. “Does it hurt?” But then Leo suddenly clutched his stomach, pointing at the open urn on my nightstand. “I’m allergic to dust! Brother, what are you doing with a box of ashes?” “Christine, help me! I can’t breathe!” “NO!” I lunged forward, a primal scream tearing from my throat. But it was too late. Leo kicked the urn, sending my father’s ashes scattering across the floor. The rage I’d suppressed for so long finally erupted. I grabbed his hair, my eyes blazing red. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” “You bastard! It wasn’t enough for your father to be a homewrecker who seduced my mother, now you have to be one too and steal another man’s wife!” Leo shrieked, “Christine, he’s lost his mind! He’s trying to kill me!” My hands closed around his throat, but one of Christine’s bodyguards kicked me so hard I flew across the room. I landed on the shattered pieces of our wedding portrait, the shards digging deep into my flesh. Blood began to pool beneath me. Ignoring the pain, I crawled across the floor, trying to gather my father’s ashes, leaving a bright red smear in my wake. Tears dripped onto the gray dust. “Dad, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” But in the next instant, Christine snatched the urn from my hands. And with chilling indifference, she poured what was left of my father into the toilet. The sound of the flush was a roar that threatened to shatter my eardrums. I knelt before the porcelain bowl, stunned, then slowly looked up at her, my eyes blood-red. “Christine,” I whispered, my voice a blade of ice, “I will never, ever forgive you.” For a split second, shock and pain flickered in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Leo held up a clump of his hair, his voice tragic. “Christine, look what he did! Maybe we shouldn’t have the baby. If he’s like this over a wedding, what will he do when our child is born? Will he try to kill me?” Christine pulled him into a tender embrace, cooing softly. “No, my love. I’ll protect you.” Her gaze then fell on me, cold and lifeless, as if I were an inanimate object. She called to a servant at the door. “Get the scissors.” She took them and stood over me, grabbing my chin and forcing my head up. “Scott, have I been too lenient with you?” Then, she began to cut. She pressed the cold steel against my scalp, shearing off my hair in rough, uneven chunks, like a patch of worthless weeds. The day before our wedding, she had held my hair in her hands, calling it her most precious treasure. When she was finished, my head was nearly bare, with only a few pathetic strands remaining. She tossed the scissors aside and turned back to Leo, kissing his hair with a reverence that made my stomach turn. “Are you happy now?” Leo’s tears turned to a triumphant smile, his eyes glinting with victory as he looked at me. “Hah! Brother, you look like a clown!”

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1 A new spicy noodle bar opened downstairs. Not feeling like cooking, I dragged my boyfriend over to give it a try. When it was time to pay, I was floored. The bill was two hundred and eighty-eight dollars. I immediately confronted the waitress. “I had potatoes and cabbage, not lobster and filet mignon! You’ve made a mistake with the price.” The waitress just rolled her eyes, her chin tilted defiantly high. “If you can’t afford it, why are you eating out? Are you trying to dine and dash?” I had no interest in arguing with someone so unreasonable. I told her to get her boss. But before the waitress could even respond, my own boyfriend turned on me, his voice sharp with anger. “You eat, you pay. It’s common sense. What’s the big deal, bullying a young girl like this? Just pay the bill! You’re so embarrassing!” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. When I got home, I threw the bastard’s things out the door. “Get out,” I told him. “I’m done being your sucker.” — Slumped on the sofa after work, I scrolled endlessly through a food delivery app, unable to decide what to eat. My boyfriend, Nick, thought for a moment. “That new spicy noodle bar downstairs? Want to go check it out?” he suggested. It solved my dilemma. The shop was clean and simple. We were past the dinner rush, so there weren’t many customers. The vegetables in the selection bar looked a little wilted, probably because we’d arrived so late. A young waitress approached us with a bright smile. “We also have deluxe options, with fresh seafood. Would you like to try some?” I quickly shook my head, declining. Nick and I filled our bowls with our choices, handed them to the young waitress, and took a number to our table. When the noodle bowls arrived, the broth looked surprisingly light. I like my food with a kick, so I called the waitress over to ask for some extra chili oil and seasoning. She had already turned to leave. “If it’s not enough, you can always add more ingredients later,” she said over her shoulder. “Any more sauce and it’ll be way too salty.” Her words left me speechless for a few seconds. Before I could think of a reply, the cashier called out to her. “Fiona, come over here and show me how to ring this up.” The waitress, Fiona, called back an “Okay!” and walked away. Nick was already eating. He looked up from his bowl, frowning. “It tastes fine. Stop being so picky.” A knot of irritation tightened in my chest. I silently pulled out my phone, snapped a picture of my bowl and Nick’s, and sent it to my friends’ group chat with a warning to steer clear. Nick finished first and went outside for a smoke. I went to the counter to pay. And that’s when it happened. “That’ll be two hundred eighty-eight dollars. Credit or debit?” My eyes went wide. I thought I must have misheard. Did she think we’d ordered the deluxe seafood platters? I immediately called Fiona back over. “I had potatoes and cabbage, not lobster and filet mignon! You’ve got the price wrong.” Fiona’s sunny expression instantly clouded over, her face falling into a long, sour mask. I took a deep breath, trying to de-escalate. Fiona waved the cashier away and picked up the bill herself. She glanced at it, then looked at me. “This is the price. There’s no mistake. This is what you ate.” I couldn’t believe it. Was this some kind of restaurant shakedown? 2 I took another deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “Two bowls of noodles for two hundred and eighty-eight dollars? Are your prices even legal? Get your boss out here. I’ll talk to him!” It was clear this young waitress, Fiona, was determined to be unreasonable. I didn’t want to waste my breath on her; I’d deal with the owner directly. I was trying my best to be civil, but Fiona’s attitude was bizarre. She almost looked… smug. “Our boss isn’t here. You ate the food, you pay the money. It’s that simple. Don’t try to scare me by asking for the manager!” The other customers in the shop turned to stare, their eyes glinting with curiosity. Fiona covered her mouth in a theatrical gasp, her voice suddenly trembling and pitiful. “You’re not… you’re not trying to dine and dash, are you? I’m just a waitress. I can’t afford to pay for your meal.” At that, the customers’ curious glances turned into full-blown gossiping stares, all directed at me. Nick, noticing I was taking a long time, came back inside. “What’s going on? Hurry up and pay so we can go.” I quickly explained the situation. “Two bowls of noodles, all veggies and tofu, and she’s trying to charge me $288! She’s treating me like a complete idiot!” Fiona looked even more wronged than I felt. Her eyes grew red as she looked at Nick. “Sir, I already gave your girlfriend a discount. Is it really that hard for her to pay for two bowls of noodles?” I almost laughed out loud. The way Fiona was looking at my boyfriend, her eyes practically sparkling… “Stop playing the victim with my boyfriend,” I snapped. “A scam is a scam!” “Get your boss out here. If he dares to post that price on a sign by the door for everyone to see, I’ll pay it right now!” I tugged on Nick’s sleeve, expecting him to back me up. Instead, his next words were a slap in the face. Nick didn’t even look at me. His gaze flickered over Fiona’s face before he violently yanked his arm away from my grasp. “Just pay for the food!” he hissed. “What’s all the fuss about?! Get it over with!” I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. The restaurant was clearly trying to rip us off, and not only was he not on my side, he was attacking me for standing up for myself. “No!” I shouted. “This is a scam, and I’m not falling for it!” As if frightened by my outburst, Fiona looked even more pathetic, tears welling in her eyes as she gazed at Nick. “I’m just a waitress,” she whispered. “You ate the food. You can’t expect me to pay for it, can you?” Her voice cracked. “You’re just picking on me because I’m an easy target. I work so hard, day in and day out… a scam like this would wipe out half a month’s wages!” She pressed on, “And now you want to get my boss involved. Are you trying to get me fired? Can’t you just leave me with a way to make a living?” 3 As Fiona spoke, tears streamed down her face, making her look innocent and utterly pitiful. It was a masterclass in manipulation. But I was confused. I had made it crystal clear: if her boss confirmed the price and made it public for all customers, I would pay. How was I the one making things difficult for her? Right now, it felt like she was the one deliberately cornering me. Nick’s brow was furrowed in a deep frown. He looked at Fiona with an expression that looked suspiciously like… pity? Was I seeing things? He pulled out his phone and started to scan the QR code at the register. “Alright, I’ll pay. This is so embarrassing. Why do you have to pick on a young girl like that!” I slapped my hand over the code, pushing his phone away. “Why should you? This isn’t over until her boss comes out here and clarifies the price!” I was the one being wronged. If he paid, it would be an admission of my guilt, painting me as the bully. I glared at Nick, furious. I couldn’t believe he didn’t understand that. Nick’s face grew darker, his patience worn thin. He met my gaze. “Yara, stop making a scene.” A chill went through me. With those words, he had officially taken the side of the person who was trying to hurt me. “Fine. Fine. This is my problem. You stay out of it.” My voice was ice. I turned away from him, my silence a clear statement. Suddenly, Fiona broke. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hands, her voice rising in a furious shout. “You ate the food and you won’t pay! Have you no shame? You just want to bully a poor waitress, is that it?” She took a dramatic breath. “Fine! Have your free meal! I’ll pay for it myself, alright?!” That did it. The other customers couldn’t stay silent any longer. A chorus of condemnation rose around me. “It’s not easy for a young waitress. You ate, you pay. Why make things hard for her?” “Exactly! You’re being completely unreasonable. This place is clean, the food is good, the portions are generous, and the prices are fair. How dare you call them a scam?” “Just pay the girl! She’s been running around serving everyone, and you’re bullying her? That’s just awful.” “Right? If you don’t have money, don’t eat out. It’s simple.” “She looks so well-dressed and put-together. You really can’t judge a book by its cover.” 4 In an instant, I was public enemy number one. But… two hundred and eighty-eight dollars for two bowls of noodles. That was a fair price? Had I completely lost touch with reality? The people around me were incensed, their glares burning into me. Someone even had their phone out, recording. I fought the urge to scream. In a steady voice, I repeated, “I just want her boss to resolve this. I am not trying to get out of paying.” “I don’t want a free meal, but I refuse to be a sucker.” I looked directly at Fiona. “Your pricing is unreasonable. I’m not trying to cause trouble for you. I just want to speak with the owner.” I thought I was being incredibly composed. But Fiona ignored everything I said, her lip trembling. “It all comes down to the same thing. You can’t afford two bowls of noodles, so you’re trying to dine and dash.” I was speechless. It was like she couldn’t understand plain English. Nick’s face was flushed with embarrassment from all the stares. He just wanted it to be over. “Alright. I’ll handle this. You go outside,” he said, pushing me towards the door. “I’ll pay. I don’t understand why you have to pick on this girl. You ate the food, just pay for it! This is so humiliating.”

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At eight months pregnant, my husband forced me to care for his childhood sweetheart, Serena, after her miscarriage. When she “accidentally” spilled hot soup on herself and blamed me, he had his men tie me up and shove me into an industrial steamer. “How dare you use our child as a shield to hurt Serena?” he snarled. “You’ll learn a lesson you won’t forget.” I begged him to think of our baby, promising never to compete with Serena again. He sneered. “A little stress makes a stronger child. And don’t worry—I won’t divorce you. I’ll just make you repay Serena’s pain a thousandfold.” He cranked the heat to maximum. The terror sent me into labor. My baby cried inside the steamer, but he thought it was a trick. “Lock it,” he ordered. “No one opens this without my command.” That evening, spoon-feeding Serena, he frowned. “Hasn’t Autumn learned? Who’ll cook for you if she keeps this up?” To his men: “Tell her I’ll spare her—if she kneels, apologizes, and cooks a week’s meals.” The staff exchanged glances. No one spoke. 1 “Mr. Astor… your wife… I don’t think she’s holding on. She hasn’t made a sound for over an hour. We’ve been calling to her, but there’s no response.” “What are you afraid of?” Matthew said dismissively. “I know her better than any of you. She’s a master of theatrics. She knows the baby trick didn’t work, so now she’s playing dead. She won’t learn unless she’s suffered properly. Then she’ll think twice before hurting my Serena again.” The subordinate wiped sweat from his brow, his face pale. “But, sir… we really did hear a baby crying earlier. It only lasted for a few seconds.” “A recording, obviously.” Matthew waved his hand, cutting off any further argument. “Look, it’s a smart appliance. It has an automatic shutoff. It’s designed to detect a person inside and power down. She’s just being stuffy for a bit. She’s not that fragile.” The man fell silent, retreating with a haunted look in his eyes. Matthew had dinner brought up to the master bedroom. There, in our room, Serena was lounging on our bed, wearing my pajamas, smiling sweetly at her phone. “What’s so amusing, Serena?” Matthew’s mood lifted seeing her smile. He sat beside her, tilting her chin up to feed her a mouthful of chicken soup. “You need to get your strength back. That’s all that matters to me.” Serena’s smile faltered for a second before she threw herself into his arms, tears welling up. “My friends… they saw how you treated me and told me to leave you. But then I remember how good you used to be to me, and I just can’t… That’s why I was smiling like an idiot.” Her voice broke with a sob. “Matthew, it’s all my fault. I couldn’t control my feelings for you. That night… when you were drugged… I just wanted to give myself to you, then leave quietly with our baby, never bothering you again, but…” She choked back a sob. “But I lost the baby. If I lose you too, I don’t think I can go on.” She buried her face in his chest. “I know I’m being selfish. I’ll accept any punishment Autumn wants to give me. This little burn is nothing. She could stab me with a knife, and I’d let her! Just please… don’t make me leave you.” Matthew’s heart shattered. He held her tight, gently blowing on the tiny, nail-sized red mark on her thigh. “Serena, you’re too kind. It’s because you love me so much, so humbly, that a venomous shrew like Autumn dares to treat you this way. You have no idea how it broke my heart to see you cry.” He stroked her hair. “You’ve given me everything. You’ve saved me time and time again. You are my savior and my love. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not even my own wife, carrying my child. She doesn’t have the right to lay a single finger on you.” A flicker of something unreadable crossed Serena’s face. Then, blushing, she squirmed. “Matthew… actually, the burn… it’s not just here. There are other places… I was too embarrassed to let the doctor see.” Desire flared in Matthew’s eyes. He pushed her back onto the bed. “Then let me be your doctor. Let me see just how red my Serena is…” And so, Serena, wearing the matching silk pajamas Matthew had designed for me as a wedding gift, made love to my husband on the bedsheets I had so carefully chosen. At the peak of their passion, Matthew grabbed her leg, and her flailing foot knocked over the picture frame on my bedside table. It was a photo a stranger had taken of us right after we’d signed our marriage license, a snapshot of our happiness. Now, the shattered glass split our faces apart. A broken mirror can’t be made whole. How foolish I’d been to fantasize, just a few months ago, that the birth of our child might bring him back to me. There was no chance of that now. Because I was already dead. It turns out, even ghosts can feel their hearts break. I listened to Serena coo about giving him another baby, and a fresh wave of agony washed over my spectral form. Matthew had been right about one thing. In that crucible of pain, my labor was terrifyingly fast. I had wished for the baby to stay inside me just a little longer, just a moment more, so I could absorb the searing heat for him, to buy him a chance at life. But my son was too good, too compliant. He was born in minutes. With my last ounce of strength, I managed to push the lid of the steamer open a crack. I begged the guards outside. “My baby is born! He’s not crying, he’s barely breathing! Please, have mercy, just get my baby out of here! Take him to a hospital!” They stared at me in horror, their hands moving toward the off switch. But then, Serena’s voice drifted from outside the cafeteria doors. “Matthew, how could she use the baby’s life to manipulate you like that? Does she have any idea her morbid words could become a self-fulfilling prophecy?” Her voice rose in pitch. “She’s so lucky, getting pregnant with your child, carrying it to term… and she doesn’t appreciate it at all. She’s cursing her own baby.” She sobbed into his chest. “She knows how desperately I wanted a child. Is she saying this just to hurt me? To rub salt in my wounds?” Seeing Serena fall apart in his arms, Matthew’s fury reignited. “It seems my punishment wasn’t severe enough! You still have the strength to use our child to torment Serena!” “Get me that iron chain! Lock it down! Make sure she can’t scream another word!” His men hesitated. Enraged, Matthew snatched the chain himself and wound it tightly around the steamer, sealing it shut. For a fleeting moment, he thought he heard the faint, kitten-like cry of an infant from within. He paused, a flicker of doubt in his eyes. But then Serena whispered, “Autumn was always so good at impressions. It reminds me… that night was supposed to be our first time, Matthew. But the next day, she put on a fake voice, pretended to be me, and tricked you into thinking it was her…” Matthew’s face contorted with a disgust so profound it was almost inhuman. “All of you, get out,” he commanded. “Get out before that bitch tricks you into letting her go.” “When Serena’s leg stops hurting, I’ll let her out myself.” He chased all the employees away, leaving me to my screams inside the scalding metal coffin, and locked the cafeteria doors behind him. My baby… he only cried for a few moments. Then, in my arms, his tiny body slowly grew stiff, his skin losing its warmth. I wept until I had no voice left. My body began to break down, my flesh dissolving in the steam and water. At that very moment, Matthew, wanting to make up for the six months Serena had been pregnant and alone, decided to propose. Even without a marriage certificate, he would give her the honor of being his wife. While my body was turning into an unrecognizable slurry, he bought out the top ten trending spots on social media and rented digital billboards in every major city, all of them scrolling his vows of eternal love for Serena. As I took my last breath, he was in a helicopter, showering an entire city with rose petals, descending from the sky to propose to her in a live-streamed spectacle for millions to see. And now, as a ghost, I watched them spend their wedding night in my former bed. Matthew held her tenderly. “I’m sorry, Serena. Autumn tricked me. She claimed she was the one who saved me that night I was drugged. I only married her out of a sense of responsibility. But we are married, and I couldn’t just divorce her and be the kind of man who abandons his duty.” He kissed her forehead. “But don’t worry. She owes you too much. After this, she’ll have learned her lesson. She’ll be docile. She won’t interfere with our life anymore. You just focus on getting better and having our baby. The three of us, plus Autumn and her child… the five of us can live together happily.” A flash of disbelief crossed Serena’s eyes. “What?” “Don’t worry,” he soothed. “Even though she’s my wife, in public, I’m yours. Just think of her as a live-in nanny to cook and clean, and our child will have a playmate.” Hearing this, a look of venomous cunning crossed Serena’s face. She forced a smile. “Okay. Whatever you say. I’ll try to get along with her.” I could only laugh. A bitter, soundless laugh. Even now, he wouldn’t let me go. He actually believed I would tolerate his affair, that I would debase myself to become their maid. I took a deep, spectral breath, watching my invisible tears fall. I knew why he was so certain. I knew why he thought he could hurt me this badly and I would never leave. Because for so long, I had endured everything in silence. A month ago, Matthew’s first love, Serena, had suddenly collapsed on our doorstep. I rushed her to the hospital. But when she woke up, she clung to Matthew, weeping, accusing me of pushing her down the stairs and causing her to miscarry. I tried to explain, to tell him I had only found her and brought her here. Matthew just stared at me with cold, dead eyes. When he wouldn’t listen, I pulled out her medical records to show him—the miscarriage had happened before I even found her. But the moment Serena started crying again, he slapped me so hard I fell to the floor. “Enough! You’ve gone too far! Serena has already forgiven you, why can’t you just admit what you did?!” He had his bodyguards take me home and lock me in my room to “reflect on my actions.” I was naive. I thought if I just waited, his anger would cool, and he would listen to reason. But after two weeks of confinement, the next time I saw him, he looked at me with the pure, unadulterated hatred one reserves for an enemy. At the time, I didn’t understand why. I clung to the hope that once our baby was born, he would change his mind. Now, I finally understood. It was all because of what happened a year ago. A year ago, Matthew’s company was on the brink of collapse. And at that exact moment, Serena had cleaned out his accounts and vanished without a word. Devastated by the double blow, Matthew had become a recluse, locking himself in his room. Frantic, I did everything I could. I chased down leads, took clients out, got blackout drunk night after night until I finally landed a deal big enough to save the company. I burst into his house, got on my knees, and begged him to remember the brilliant, ambitious man he used to be, to give himself one more chance. He was moved. He came with me. We closed the deal. But that night, the client’s mistress took a liking to Matthew. She drugged his drink, planning a one-night stand. I was terrified the client would find out and cancel the deal, but my heart broke seeing Matthew writhing in agony. I lied, claiming we were a couple, and got us a room. He was delirious, pulling me onto the bed with him. We spent the night together. When I woke up, I panicked. I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle his business partner becoming his bed partner. Afraid he would push me away. So, I ran. Three months later, I found out I was pregnant. Shyly, nervously, I confessed everything to him. He looked at me with a complicated expression, silent for so long I was sure he was going to reject me. Then, he let out a long breath and, with a small smile, pulled me into his arms. “Autumn,” he’d said. “Maybe you’re the angel heaven sent to save me, to help me start a new life.” I cried and I laughed. Laughed and cried. Crying for how pathetic I was. Laughing at how tragic it all was. And that night, during my two weeks of confinement, had been twisted by Serena into this monstrous lie. She claimed she was the one who had slept with him, then left with his child, and that I was the wicked usurper, passing off a bastard as his. No wonder he looked at me with such revulsion.

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1 Reborn, my first act was rejecting my parents’ $50K allowance—and taking a predatory loan instead. In my past life, my roommate Jessica bound me to a “system” that swapped our finances. No matter what, my account never held over $30. With my money, she became the campus queen—dating heartthrob Ethan Virtue while painting me as her pitiful charity case. When I showed bank statements, every transfer magically shrank to $30. Jessica would flash her phone, crocodile tears gleaming: “See? My parents send $50K monthly. Why can’t Freda face reality?” The backlash was vicious. Relatives who defended me died in “accidents.” My body withered mysteriously. Finally, Ethan’s friends dragged me into the woods—I died after hours of torture. Then I woke up, back in time. This time, I’d see how long the campus princess lasted without my money—and with crushing debt. … “Seriously, Freda, you’re pathetic. All your designer clothes were bought with handouts, and you have the nerve to be flashier than Jessica?” “She’s so generous to you, and you just waste her money. If Jessica wasn’t such a saint, she would’ve kicked you to the curb ages ago!” “Say something! Stop playing dead! Get on your knees and apologize to her right now, or we’ll make you.” The jeers echoed in my ears, and for a dizzying moment, I struggled to place myself. Then it hit me. I was truly reborn, thrown back to the very day my roommate, Jessica Price, used her system to frame me as a poor student living off her charity. Seeing my silence, Jessica stepped forward, her voice dripping with fake empathy. “Freda, don’t tell me you’re going to claim that money came from your parents. That you’re the rich one? If that’s the case, why don’t you show everyone your bank balance?” She smiled sweetly. “Or better yet, have your parents wire you a few hundred thousand right now. That would shut us all up.” Last time, I fell for it. I stared at my thirty-dollar balance in disbelief and frantically called my parents, begging them to send more money. My desperation to prove the truth only played into her hands, funneling immense wealth directly into her account and solidifying her status as the campus queen. When I held up my phone to show the incoming transfers, the numbers had magically changed to pocket change. In an instant, I became a public enemy, accused of being a vain, selfish leech who was bleeding her poor, hardworking parents dry. As I was plotting my next move, the campus heartthrob, Ethan Virtue, finally spoke up, his voice laced with contempt. “Freda, it’s over. Stop being so stubborn. A vain, selfish person like you doesn’t deserve Jessica’s kindness. The thought of you chasing after me makes my skin crawl!” His brow furrowed in disgust as he strode forward and shoved me hard. I stumbled and fell to the ground. It was ironic. During freshman orientation, he had approached me, commenting on the beautiful necklace I wore and asking if he could borrow it to buy a similar one for his mother. Now, a sharp pain shot through my shoulder where I’d hit the floor. The crowd around us erupted in cheers, shouting that Ethan had done the right thing. This only fueled Jessica’s performance. She bit her lip, looking down at me with tear-filled eyes, making no move to help me up. “Freda, I can’t believe it’s come to this. We’re roommates. All you had to do was admit you were wrong. I would have forgiven you. Why do you have to be so stubborn and twist the truth…?” “Who said I was going to be stubborn?” I gritted my teeth and pushed myself up from the ground, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry, your highness. I was being vain. I took the money you gave me and bought all this stuff. As punishment, I’ll donate every last piece to charity for them to sell.” I looked at her with wide, pleading eyes. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me and… continue supporting me.” The crowd, which had been ready to tear me apart, fell silent. They exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to say. Jessica was stunned. A flicker of panic crossed her eyes. “Freda, you don’t have to do that. If you’re really sorry, maybe you should sell the items first and then donate the cash. What if the charity damages them…?” “Oh, I’m sure the professionals can handle it.” If I sold them first, would there be any money left for me to donate? It would go straight to her account. I turned away, my expression turning to ice. I pulled out my phone, opened a predatory loan app, and applied for a small, one-hundred-dollar loan. As expected, the moment the loan was approved, the money never hit my account. I refreshed the app. The name on the loan agreement was now Jessica Price. So, the system was thorough. It didn’t just swap money; it swapped the source, too. I almost laughed out loud. Jessica, your nightmare is just beginning. 2 I took out one hundred thousand dollars in high-interest loans in a single sitting. Then I called my parents, told them I didn’t need an allowance anymore, and applied for off-campus housing. I would live off what I already had. Even so, a heavy pressure lingered in my chest. The system’s parasitic effect on my body hadn’t vanished completely. That afternoon, as I was leaving campus with a small bag, I saw Jessica and Ethan waiting for a car by the road, surrounded by a gaggle of their followers. They spotted me, their faces twisting into identical sneers. “Freda!” Jessica called out, jogging over to me with a bright, cheerful expression. “What a coincidence! We were just talking about you. I’ve been thinking, ‘give a man a fish and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.’ I’ve decided to stop giving you money and help you find a part-time job instead.” It’s amazing what money can do. Dressed head-to-toe in luxury brands, the old, insecure girl who used to subsist on the cheapest cafeteria food was gone. It was hard to believe this was the same person. I couldn’t help but wonder what dark magic she’d used to bind me. She shoved a stack of flyers into my hand, her expression earnest. “I picked out all the best-paying jobs for you. Once you donate money you’ve earned with your own two hands, everyone will forgive you.” She sighed dramatically. “My eyes are killing me from searching for these. Anyway, I’m about to treat everyone to a five-star hotel buffet. How about you pick up the tab this time?” I had never met anyone so shameless. She was spending my parents’ money while trying to force me into working to fund her lifestyle. I glanced at the flyers. They were filled with shady gigs, including an ad for selling my own eggs. Just then, Ethan and the others sauntered over. “What are you waiting for, Freda?” one of them scoffed. “Some of those jobs have application deadlines today. You’d better hurry. They won’t wait for you.” “Jessica’s parents just sent her another hundred grand,” another chimed in. “That’s more than your parents probably make in a lifetime. How can a poor girl like you just stand around doing nothing?” A glittering Rolex had appeared on Ethan’s wrist, a model that screamed “chosen by a girlfriend” and was easily worth tens of thousands. He was burning through my money fast. No wonder he was so eager for me to earn more. I couldn’t help but smirk. “As a student, I think my priority should be my studies,” I said with a pleasant smile. “From now on, I plan to live on thirty dollars a month. Not a penny more. I’d appreciate it if you all held me to that.” I turned to leave, but a hand clamped down on my arm. “Is that how a charity case speaks to her benefactor?” Ethan snarled, flinging my arm away as if he’d touched something filthy. “Jessica went to all this trouble to help you, and you’re just going to walk away? Do you enjoy being a parasite?!” His cold, menacing gaze merged with the memory of his eyes as he watched me die in my past life. My breath caught in my throat. He shoved me to the ground again before turning to leave with Jessica. But this time, a thought struck me. It wasn’t just about sucking up to Jessica. It felt like… he genuinely hated me. 3 It felt like an eternity before my family’s Rolls-Royce finally pulled up to the curb. By then, I was drenched in sweat, on the verge of heatstroke. My driver, Mr. Virtue, took his sweet time parking before giving a cursory double-tap on the horn. “Mr. Virtue, what took you so long?” I asked, collapsing into the back seat, my shirt already soaked through. He, on the other hand, was in a noticeably cheerful mood. He shot me a stern look in the rearview mirror. “You know, miss, you really need to work on that princess attitude. I’m your family’s driver, not your personal slave. I’m an elder, you should show some respect.” He sniffed. “It was just a few minutes of waiting. Most girls aren’t nearly as fragile as you. I’d never let my son date someone with your attitude!” Just then, my phone buzzed with notifications. It was my classmates’ social media feeds. [OMG, Ethan’s family is seriously loaded! He let us ride in his Rolls-Royce! Look at that starlight headliner!] [It was so epic! Next time, we need a second car, though. I’m calling dibs on the Maybach!] [If we hadn’t wasted so much time dealing with that shameless pauper, we would’ve been cooling off in this luxury car ages ago!] I froze. That wasn’t his car. That was my family’s car. I immediately made a call. The results of a quick background check confirmed it. Mr. Virtue’s son was none other than Ethan Virtue. It all clicked into place. No wonder my every attempt to prove my identity in my past life was thwarted. There was always a mole leaking information. And no wonder Ethan was so determined to destroy me. He and Jessica were working together from the inside. My hand instinctively went to the necklace Ethan had “borrowed” during orientation. That’s when it all started. Right after that, Jessica, the girl who could barely afford food, suddenly became incredibly wealthy. Back then, I used my meal card for everything and never checked my bank balance. I had handed them the perfect opportunity. “Miss Freda, what are you doing?” The car screeched to a halt. Mr. Virtue was staring at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes wide with panic, fixed on my hand as it was about to unclasp the necklace. “That was a coming-of-age gift from your mother,” he stammered. “You’re not taking it off, are you?” His panicked expression was all the confirmation I needed. “Of course not,” I said with a small laugh. “Just admiring it.” I closed my eyes, and from the driver’s seat, I heard a quiet sigh of relief. The moment I got back to the villa, I ripped the necklace off. I called my father and told him Mr. Virtue had been disrespectful and needed to be fired. Then, I enjoyed a gourmet meal prepared by our French chef, and after eating my fill, I collapsed into bed. As I suspected, without the necklace, the crushing weight on my chest lifted. It was as if a massive boulder had been rolled off me. To avoid tipping my hand, I found an identical-looking necklace in my jewelry box and put it on. And now, Jessica, all you have left… is that hundred-thousand-dollar debt.

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1 I’m trapped in a horror game with my ex-boyfriend. And the four-year-old boss of this twisted world has just one demand: that we become his sweet, loving parents. “Make me happy,” the little boy, Toby, declared, his voice a strange mix of childish innocence and ancient authority, “and in one month, you can return to your world. But if you’re just faking it… you’ll die here.” My ex, Roger, shot me a look of pure contempt. “Is this your latest pathetic attempt to get me back? Dream on.” I fired back, my voice dripping with equal scorn, “You must be blind. Which part of this looks like me wanting you back?” Suddenly, the irises of Toby’s eyes swirled into an inky, bottomless black. “But… you’re supposed to be in love,” he whispered, the temperature in the room plummeting. In love? Once, maybe. A lifetime ago. Now, looking at Roger was like staring at a stranger I despised. He deliberately put six feet of distance between us, his disgust a physical thing. “I don’t know what kind of freak show you’ve cooked up with this… little monster, but your theatrics are wasted on me. Let me out of here, now, or I’m calling the cops.” The words had barely left his mouth when Toby lifted a tiny hand. A swirling black mist erupted from the floor, enveloping Roger and lifting him off his feet. He choked out a strangled cry before being slammed back down onto the hardwood. When he looked up, the arrogance was gone, replaced by raw, primal fear. Toby’s childish voice now held the weight of a death sentence. “In my world, you follow the rules, or you die. Now, I’m sleepy. I want my mommy and daddy to give me a bath and tuck me in.” I wanted to live. I didn’t want to die. Neither did Roger. Without another word, I bolted to the bathroom to run the water. Roger, moving with a grim efficiency, scooped Toby up, stripped off his clothes, and lowered him into the tub. I lathered his hair while Roger washed his tiny feet. I reached for the shampoo, and without looking, Roger’s hand was already there, passing me the bottle. When he lifted Toby from the water, I was ready with a towel, wrapping him in a cocoon of warm terry cloth. The whole routine was so seamless, so practiced, it felt like we’d done it a thousand times. Toby, watching us with an unnervingly perceptive gaze, announced with a smug little smile, “You two work so well together. How can you not be in love? You’re just pretending you broke up to protect each other, aren’t you?” “We really broke up.” The words came from Roger and me in perfect, hollow unison. “But you’re a team…” Toby insisted, confused. My survival instinct kicked in, forcing the truth out of me. “We used to have a dog,” I explained, my voice flat. “A big Golden Retriever named Goldie. He hated baths, so we had to get it done fast. It’s not teamwork, Toby. It’s muscle memory.” “What happened to Goldie?” “He died.” “How?” Toby’s face scrunched up in concern. “He was poisoned. With chocolate.” A muscle twitched in Roger’s jaw. The silence he’d maintained shattered. “You have the nerve to bring that up? It was your fault! You’re the one who mixed chocolate chips into his food and then tried to blame Scarlett for it!” The accusation hit me like a physical blow, throwing me back to that awful day. Toby’s curiosity was piqued. “Who’s Scarlett?” The rage in Roger’s face softened, replaced by a flicker of tenderness. “She’s my fiancée. We’re getting married soon.” A bitter smile touched my lips. A bitch and a dog, a match made in hell. If Scarlett were here, I’d congratulate her on finally getting what she always wanted. Toby was the only one in the room who wasn’t smiling. His face was a thundercloud. “My mommy and daddy have to love me,” he declared, his voice dangerously low. “And they have to love each other. There’s no room for a third person. If you can’t do that… you’ll die, too.” That night, we lay in the same bed, Toby a small, warm barrier between us. I read from a storybook while Roger gently patted his back. Long after Toby’s breathing had evened out into the deep rhythm of sleep, Roger rose. “Claire,” he whispered, letting out a long, weary breath. “We need to talk.” 2 “Do you want to be stuck here forever?” he asked, his voice low and urgent. I shook my head. “Then let’s make a deal. We cooperate. We play the part of loving parents, give Toby what he wants, and get the hell back to reality as fast as possible.” “Fine,” I agreed. He still looked unconvinced, his gaze intense. “Claire, you need to understand this. What’s broken stays broken. We are over. Everything that happens here is an act. We are pretending. I’m marrying Scarlett. You need to move on, too.” A laugh escaped me, sharp and humorless. “I moved on ages ago, Roger. You’re the one flattering yourself.” He didn’t believe me. “You don’t have to lie. Just… help me get through this, and I can forgive you for everything you did. But you need to be crystal clear on one thing: we are never, ever getting back together.” “Okay.” He stared at me for a long moment, a storm of doubt and suspicion in his eyes, before turning and leaving the room. I waited until he was gone before wiping away the single tear that had escaped with my laugh. It was pointless. Arguing with a narcissist was like trying to teach a rock to swim. The only thing that mattered was getting back home. I could endure his self-important delusions for that. Back in bed, Roger tossed and turned, but I found the release of sleep almost immediately. I woke to Toby snuggling into my side. “Mommy,” he murmured, “can we have a picnic in the park today?” “Of course, sweetie. Anything you want.” I was sitting on the checkered blanket when Toby held a slice of mango up to my lips. My heart lurched. I had played this horror game once before, a long time ago. I knew its rules, its cruel tricks. And I knew that here, in this world, my real-world allergies were just as real. And my mango allergy was deadly. “Oh, honey, no thank you,” I said, pulling back gently. “Mommy’s allergic to mangoes.” Roger, who was fumbling with a kite nearby, let out a derisive snort. A moment later, while Toby was chasing a butterfly, he leaned in, his voice a low warning. “Stop the act, Claire. Didn’t you see the disappointment on his face? If you upset him, we both pay the price.” I met his gaze, my own unwavering. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.” Not wanting Toby to see us arguing, I got up and helped him get the kite airborne. When we returned to the blanket, I took the cup of juice Roger handed me, steeling myself against the revulsion I felt. I had to keep up the charade. I’d only taken a few sips when my mouth started to tingle, and a familiar tightness gripped my throat. “Mommy, your eyes!” Toby cried out, pointing at my face. “They’re getting puffy!” The symptoms. I knew them too well. Panic seized me. “I have to go,” I gasped, scrambling to my feet and stumbling toward the road where a taxi was idling. Roger grabbed my arm, his face a mask of irritation. “Where are you going? Toby’s having the time of his life!” “It’s my allergy… get me to a hospital…” The world began to tilt and fade, my last conscious sensations the sound of Toby’s terrified screams and the look of dawning horror on Roger’s face as I crumpled to the ground. I’m afraid you’ve reached a premium chapter. Would you like to unlock it to see what happens to Claire? I woke to the sound of Toby’s desperate sobs. “Mommy, please wake up! I just got a mommy, you can’t leave me!” When my eyes fluttered open, his tear-streaked face lit up. “Mommy! You’re awake!” He grabbed my hand, his small fingers warm and tight around mine. In that moment, the all-powerful game boss was gone, and all I could see was a scared little boy who craved a family. My heart ached for him. After I had soothed him into a watery smile, I sent him home with the NPC nanny. Now, the hospital room was silent, occupied by only me and Roger. A cold, bitter laugh escaped me. “This was you, wasn’t it?” He walked over to my bed, his expression a tangled mess of guilt and confusion. “I didn’t think… I just added a little bit of mango juice to the orange juice. I just wanted to see…” “You wanted to see if I was lying?” I snapped, my voice rising. “Roger, are you stupid or deaf? I’ve told you a million times, I’m allergic to mangoes! It’s not a joke. It can kill me!” He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with a frustration I couldn’t comprehend. “I know, I’m sorry, okay? It’s my fault. But… you used to eat mangoes all the time.” To save my own life from his future ‘tests,’ I decided it was time he knew the truth I had hidden for so long. “That was because of you.” He stared at me blankly. “Because of me?” 3 “The first time I ever had mango, I was four years old,” I began, my voice quiet but steady. “That’s how my parents discovered my allergy. After that, they were banned from our house. The second time… was when your mother sent us a box of mangoes she’d picked herself.” After we started dating, I learned that Roger’s parents owned a huge mango grove. He’d once told me a story about how, when the fruit was in season, his mom had sent a crate to his dorm for him to share. The next day, he found a whole, untouched mango in one of his roommate’s trash cans. When Roger confronted him, the roommate had shrugged. “I’m allergic, man. What was I supposed to do with it?” But later, Roger overheard him telling someone else, “I’m not eating that crap from some farmer. Who knows if his mom’s hands were even clean.” Knowing how sensitive he was about his family’s humble background, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I, too, was allergic. I swallowed the words, and instead, I stocked up on antihistamines. “Before I ever took a bite of your mother’s mangoes, I took allergy pills,” I finished, my voice flat. “That’s why you never knew. I did it all to protect your fragile pride, to get your family to like me. Looking back, I can’t believe how pathetic I was.” Roger stood frozen, as if turned to stone. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “So… you didn’t frame Scarlett?” I knew exactly what he was talking about. I hadn’t known Scarlett for long. She was from Roger’s hometown, a childhood acquaintance. Her father had passed away, and the whole village pitied her and her mother, helping them out whenever they could. So when her mother called, begging Roger to let a newly-unemployed and evicted Scarlett stay with us for a while, neither of us objected. I felt sorry for her. I treated her like a younger sister. I even told her about my allergy, and why I kept it a secret from Roger, after she asked about the pills she found in my purse. Not long after, the three of us went to visit Roger’s parents. I took my antihistamines as usual, but after just two bites of mango, my throat started to close up. Luckily, they got me to a hospital in time. Afterward, Roger asked with genuine concern, “What are you allergic to? I’ll tell my parents so they can be careful.” Looking at the crate of mangoes in the corner, I finally broke. “Actually… I’m allergic to mangoes.” His face changed. “What are you talking about? You’ve eaten them before with no problem.” “That’s because I didn’t want to hurt your mom’s feelings!” I explained frantically. “I always took medication beforehand! I did this time, too, but… I think Scarlett might have switched my pills.” I had only ever told her that secret. It had to be her. Just then, Scarlett burst into the room, tears already streaming down her face. “I don’t know anything about this! Claire, I know you don’t like me, but I’m just staying here for a little while! I see Roger as a big brother, nothing more! If you have a problem with me, just say it! Why is it that you’ve been eating these mangoes for years, but the moment I show up, you suddenly have a life-threatening allergic reaction? Are you trying to set me up? Is it because you think you can push us around, a widow and her orphan daughter?” Her mother rushed in, and the two of them put on a masterful performance. “I see what’s going on here! You see my daughter as a rival! Mrs. Chen, look at your future daughter-in-law! No respect, and a petty, jealous heart! She doesn’t deserve a good man like your son!” After that circus, Roger’s parents’ opinion of me plummeted. Now, in this sterile hospital room, I answered Roger’s whispered question. “Of course I didn’t frame her. She orchestrated the whole thing. If anyone was a victim that day, it was me.” He hesitated, running a hand over his face. “It must have just been a coincidence,” he mumbled, though he didn’t sound convinced. “She’s just… overly sensitive. I’m sure she’s not a bad person at heart.” I’m sure? He wasn’t sure at all. The seed of doubt had been planted. And once planted, it was only a matter of time before it grew. 4 Two days later, the preschool was holding a Family Sports Day. To keep Toby happy, Roger and I agreed to participate together. We did the tug-of-war, the jump rope competition, and the classic three-legged race. We didn’t win a single event, but Toby was ecstatic, prancing around like a colt in a spring meadow. During a break, he proudly showed us off to his friends. “This is my mommy and daddy! They insisted on coming to sports day together!” One of the other kids pouted. “You’re so lucky! Only my mom came…” Toby puffed out his chest, the picture of pride. He was a world away from the sullen, angry child we first met. During the swimming relay, Toby noticed a patch of scarred skin on the back of my calf. “Mommy, where did you get that owie?” he asked, his little brow furrowed. I was about to tell him the truth but stopped myself, not wanting to spoil his perfect day. The little guy had completely worked his way into my heart. “It’s a burn,” I said simply. He gently poked the scar. “How’d you burn it?” “Cooking. A little oil splashed on me.” “You’re lying!” he shrieked, his voice cracking. “Why are you lying to me?!” Instantly, the clear blue sky overhead roiled with dark, angry clouds. My heart hammered against my ribs. So did Roger’s. Toby rounded on him. “It was you again! You hurt Mommy! If she was cooking, the oil would have splashed on the front of her legs. That scar is on the back! That means she was facing away when the oil spilled!” Roger’s face went pale. He shot me a desperate, pleading look. I quickly pulled the furious little boy into a hug. “It’s okay, honey, it’s okay! It was Daddy’s fault! He was carrying the hot pan and tripped, and some of it spilled on Mommy. But it was an accident, and Mommy already scolded him for it. We were just afraid you’d be mad at Daddy if you knew.” Roger, catching on, added quickly, “I was scared you wouldn’t love me anymore, Toby!” As if on command, the storm clouds overhead dissipated, and the sun shone through. Toby, after making me promise a dozen times that it didn’t hurt anymore, wagged a tiny finger at Roger. “You have to be more careful! Don’t let Mommy get hurt again!” Later, when we were alone, Roger’s voice was shaky. “That time… was that her, too?” “Yes.” The light was finally dawning. It was Roger’s birthday, the night before we broke up for good. I was in the kitchen, cooking his favorite meal. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Scarlett leaning against the doorframe. “He really loves you, you know,” she said, her voice deceptively sweet. “I tried my best to stir things up, and even though you couldn’t prove your innocence, he still wanted to marry you. He told me, ‘No matter what she’s like, she’s the one I love.’” “If you know that, then back off,” I said, not taking my eyes off the sizzling pan. She chuckled softly. “Maybe I’m just a masochist. The more he loves you, the more I want him. It’s a thrill.” Before I could react, she lunged forward, grabbed the wooden spoon from the pot, and flung a ladleful of boiling oil onto her own arm. Her scream brought everyone from the living room running. “I… I slipped,” Scarlett sobbed, clutching her blistering arm. “It was an accident.” “An accident?!” one of our friends shrieked, pointing at me. “Who accidentally throws that much hot oil on themselves? It had to be you, Claire! We all know you’re jealous of Scarlett, but this is insane! That’s boiling oil! You could have scarred her for life!” “She did it to herself!” I cried, but no one was listening. “No woman would do that to herself,” someone muttered from the back of the crowd. “A scar that big will never fade.” They all stared at me, their faces a mixture of accusation and disgust. I was a monster. Even Roger didn’t believe me. “I am so disappointed in you,” he said, his voice cold with a finality that broke my heart. “I was willing to look past the lies you told about her before. But why would you do this? Did you really want to destroy her that badly?” He wrapped his arm around Scarlett’s shoulders and guided her toward the door, never once noticing the angry red burn on my own leg, the burn that would become that ugly scar. The memory was so vivid it made me sick. Back in the present, Roger collapsed onto a nearby bench. His lips moved, but no sound came out. I leaned closer. “So what was ever real?” he was whispering. I was more than happy to answer him. “Nothing.” “Goldie’s death, the allergy pills, the hot oil, throwing away her necklace… none of it was you?” “Not a single thing.” His voice cracked with a new, infuriating question. “Then why didn’t you explain?” A slow, cruel smile spread across my face. I didn’t bother to hide my contempt. “Oh, but I did. I explained, I begged, I pleaded. And every single time, you chose to believe her. Don’t you see, Roger? She only succeeded because you were her willing accomplice.” “It’s my fault,” he whispered, his hand reaching for mine before falling, defeated, to his side. “I’m so sorry.” His pristine image of the innocent, helpless girl had been shattered, replaced by the portrait of a scheming sociopath. The shock was overwhelming him. And it was only the beginning.

My wife’s young assistant suddenly dropped a bombshell on social media, a cryptic post about how he couldn’t continue their “vague, messy relationship” any longer. My wife, Miranda, who was usually so cool and composed, burst into our home in a full-blown panic. “Leo’s making a huge scene this time,” she pleaded, her eyes wide with urgency. “We need to get a sham divorce, just for show. You can go stay at your parents’ place for a few days, and as soon as this blows over, we’ll get remarried. I promise.” Her hands gripped my arms. “Don’t worry, Ethan. It’s just for show. You are, and always will be, my only real husband.” Looking at her desperate face, I nodded. But she had no idea. She didn’t know that she and I were bound together by the System. The moment we divorced, I would be erased from this world, never to be seen by her again. … After I agreed, Miranda dragged me straight to the courthouse. I remember once asking her for a snack from the pantry, and it took her five minutes to begrudgingly get it for me. Now, she was moving at lightning speed to end our marriage. Standing in the sterile hallway of the courthouse, she squeezed my hand tightly. “Ethan, you have to believe me. Just give me seven days. I only need seven days to calm him down, and then we’ll get married again, okay?” Her voice was a desperate whisper. “Once I get him sorted out, I’ll give you anything you want. Anything.” I just nodded, my emotions numb. A wide, relieved smile spread across her face as she pulled out a pile of “divorce gifts”—a collection of things I used to love, now laid out before me like a cheap consolation prize. I didn’t even glance at them. They were nothing more than a bribe, a tool she was using to discard me so she could be with her new boy toy. I didn’t take them. I just turned and walked out of the courthouse. She’d always had a string of young, handsome men on the side, even after we were married. Her assistants changed like the seasons, each one a prettier, younger version of the last. I’d argued with her about it. I’d begged her. She would always placate me with sweet words and empty promises, then go right back to her old ways. Eventually, I just gave up. It was her nature, and I couldn’t change it. I told myself it was fine, as long as she still considered me, Ethan, to be her husband. But this new assistant, Leo, was different. This time, I think she had actually fallen for him. She would spend a fortune just to make him smile. She’d cancel our plans to go on lavish trips with him, leaving me at home alone. She’d ignore my calls if she thought it might upset him. And now, just to appease him, she was convincing me to get a fake divorce so she could throw him the wedding of the century. Her heart had left me a long time ago. As we walked out of the courthouse together, I saw Leo waiting by the entrance, practically bouncing on his heels. When he saw Miranda, he ran to her. “Mira! You’re finally out! I’ve been waiting forever. Let’s go!” he chirped, before turning to me with a saccharine-sweet bow, completely ignoring the fury on Miranda’s face. “Thank you, Ethan. Your sacrifice gave me this chance. I’ll take good care of Mira now, you can rest assured!” Before he could say another smug word, Miranda’s hand whipped out and cracked across his face. “Shut up!” she hissed. “Didn’t I tell you to wait in the car? Don’t you dare pull a stunt like this again, or you’re gone. You understand me?” Leo clutched his cheek, his expression a mask of wounded pride. “Mira! You’re divorced now! Why are you still protecting him like this?” Miranda shoved him back, her hand pressing against his face. “I warned you about this. Don’t make me say it again.” Sensing the depth of her rage, Leo finally backed off and walked away, his shoulders slumped, his retreat punctuated by a choked sob. Miranda took a half-step toward him, her hand outstretched as if to comfort him, before she caught herself and pulled back. She stepped in front of me, putting on a show of defending my honor. She had once promised me that no matter what she did on the side, she would never, ever let it affect me or our home. Now, that line had been crossed. And she was panicking. When she looked back at me, her face was a mess of anxiety. “Ethan, I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was going to be here,” she said, her voice small and careful. “I guess I’ve been spoiling him too much lately, he’s gotten bold. I’ll deal with him.” I just shook my head, signaling that it didn’t matter. I’d seen and endured far worse. This was nothing. “He’s already here,” I said, my voice flat. “You should go be with him. I don’t need you to take care of me.” “I’ll grab a cab now. I need to pack my things and find a new place.” Miranda blinked, then quickly recovered. “Of course. Ethan, wherever you want to go, just let me know. I’ll pay for everything. Just go, have some fun.” I nodded without a word and kept walking. The moment I stepped out of the courthouse grounds, a mechanical voice echoed in my mind. “Subject: Ethan McCollum. System has detected the termination of your marital bond with Miranda Thorne. Mission is now concluded.” “In seven days, you will exit this world by way of a terminal illness.” Eight years ago, I was just a guy reading a novel on my couch when I was inexplicably pulled into this world. I was bound to a “Companion System” and placed by Miranda’s side. The System’s mission was simple: stay with Miranda for eight years, or help her achieve great success and a full ‘Happiness Index.’ Within the first few years, with my help, her company had become a billion-dollar enterprise and her Happiness Index had maxed out. But even though my mission was technically complete, I didn’t leave. In those eight years, I had genuinely fallen in love with her. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving. The System told me that if I just completed the full eight-year term, I could stay with her forever. I thought that was my future. I would stay by her side until the day I died. But here we were, just seven days shy of the eight-year mark, and she had just divorced me. On the day my eight years were up, I would be sent back to my original world. With seven days left to live, I checked into a hotel. On the way, I saw them everywhere. On billboards, on bus stop ads, on the news tickers. Gushing articles and sweet photos of Miranda Thorne and Leo Vance, preparing for their fairy-tale wedding. I saw a picture of them—her in a wedding gown, him in a tuxedo—and it all clicked. The rush to divorce me, the desperation. It was all to prepare a surprise wedding for her boy toy. I suddenly remembered when I first arrived in this world. The System had directed me to her, and the moment she saw me, it was like she’d been struck by lightning. She fell for me, hard. She swore that day that I would be the love of her life, that she would do anything to be with me. And for a while, she did. She cared for me in a way that was all-consuming. Her presence was in every detail of my life. I truly felt like I was the center of her universe. When her wealthy parents forbade her from marrying a no-name like me, she went on a hunger strike for three days until they finally relented. At our wedding, she held my hand and vowed before God and everyone, “I, Miranda Thorne, will love Ethan McCollum for the rest of my life. Forever and always.” She didn’t keep her promise. Back in my hotel room, I lay down on the bed. Before I could even process my thoughts, a sudden, coppery taste filled my mouth, and I coughed, spattering blood across the clean white sheets. It seems the illness the System had planned for my final seven days was going to be a rough one. At the hospital, the doctors were baffled. They couldn’t find anything wrong with me. They just gave me some painkillers and sent me home. I couldn’t help but wonder what the look on Miranda’s face would be when I finally died. Of course, before that happened, there was one last thing I had to do. I had to see her parents, my in-laws, and tell them to be well, not to grieve for me. In this strange, foreign world, they were the only ones who had ever treated me like family. Since I was dying, it was only right that they knew. I hadn’t even reached their front door when I saw her through the window. Miranda was there, shielding Leo behind her as she faced her parents. “Mom, Dad, Ethan is busy! I brought my assistant to visit you, there’s no need to throw his gifts on the floor!” she was shouting. Her father pointed a trembling finger at her, his voice booming with rage. “You disgraceful girl! I’ve told you, I only acknowledge one son-in-law, and that is Ethan McCollum!” “Get this damn Leo out of my house! Get him out now!” Her mother clutched her chest, her face pale. “Your father is right! Take him and leave, now!” Her voice cracked. “Mira, Ethan has never, ever done anything to wrong you.” A sliver of warmth spread through my chest. It was true, they had once fought tooth and nail to keep me from marrying their daughter. It took Miranda’s hunger strike to change their minds. But after we were married, I had made a real effort. I visited often, cooked for them, and looked after their health. Over time, they had come to see me as their own son. “I already talked to Ethan about this,” Miranda argued, her voice rising. “He’s fine with it.” “I’m not asking you to accept Leo! I just brought him here to say hello! Do you have to be so rude?” “Leo, we’re leaving!” she fumed, her face flushed with anger, and started dragging him toward the door. The scene was an almost perfect mirror of how she had once fought for me. Only now, the man at her side was different.

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