Category: English

  • The Tables Have Turned

    The moment my boss led the new CEO into the conference room, my world stopped. “Ms. Lee, this is our team.” The woman was my ex-wife. Three years ago, she had trampled all over my heart and betrayed our love for her first love. Now, she stood there, her brow slightly furrowed, her eyes locked on me. My boss, a seasoned veteran of the corporate world, saw the look on her face and immediately understood we had a history. His gaze instantly shifted to me. “Mr. Miller and I are the project leads,” he announced, his voice a little too loud. “Quinn, now that you’ve tidied up the conference room, you can go.” He shot me a desperate look, practically begging me with his eyes to leave. “That won’t be necessary,” she said, her voice cutting through the tension. “This project must be discussed with Mr. Quinn. Mr. Davis, if you change the person in charge, the deal is off.” Everyone froze. “Ms. Lee… this… of course, of course! Quinn, you… you have a good talk with Ms. Lee!” The boss herded everyone out of the room, leaving me alone with her. Her name was Liana. Her eyes were slightly red as she choked out the question. “These past two years, where did you go? Why didn’t you answer my messages?” 1 Memories flooded back, a torrent of pain I had long since buried. But the hysteria of the past was gone. I just looked at her calmly. “Please, have a seat, Ms. Lee. Let’s discuss the project.” My indifference seemed to throw her. She stared at me, lost in thought for a moment, before finally speaking. “As long as you’re in charge of this project, I’ll sign.” I nodded. “That might be difficult.” Liana raised an eyebrow, then called my boss back in. She repeated her condition. My boss’s face lit up with joy, and he agreed immediately. After Liana left, I sat in the chair, my mind blank. For two years, I had told myself not to dwell on the past. It wasn’t worth it. But the more I tried to convince myself, the clearer the images became, a constant torture. I had finally crawled out of that shadow, only to run right back into her. Liana and I were married for five years. We went from high school sweethearts to husband and wife. On our fifth anniversary, she spent a fortune at an auction to acquire a national treasure that had been lost overseas—a jade bi disk carved with a dragon and a phoenix. She then donated it to the national museum in the name of her first love, Julian. During the press interview, she gazed at Julian, who stood beside her, her eyes overflowing with affection. “This jade disk is my birthday gift to Julian,” she’d said. “We discussed it, and he decided to donate it to the museum. We hope all of our nation’s lost treasures can find their way home, back to the ones they love.” The video went viral. Everyone knew about Liana’s undying love for Julian. The internet sang praises of their epic romance. Even her friends sent me smug, passive-aggressive texts. “Hey, Colin. Your wife’s in love.” “Congratulations,” I typed back. Then I looked at the comments on the interview. They were all filled with envy. “This is what a female CEO’s love looks like? I guess trophy husbands really do exist! I love it!” “Childhood sweethearts and first loves, she’s got all the bases covered!” I shook my head, a bitter smile on my face. I ate the dinner I had spent all day preparing, alone. I put away the flowers, peonies that had been flown in that morning, fresh and vibrant. Her favorite. Now, everything in the room seemed to mock me. It was our fifth anniversary. She was the one who had told me to prepare for it. I waited and waited, all for nothing. It was just an excuse to get me out of the way. In the video, her face was soft, her gaze on Julian tender and loving. With me, she always wore a mask of ice. In that moment, I was just… tired. It was like the last breath had finally left my body. The heart that had been hanging in suspense finally fell. I used to think it was just her personality, that she wasn’t a smiley person. Now I knew better. It was just that I wasn’t the one who made her smile. Our love? A self-deception that only I had believed in. I decided it was time to cut the cord, to stop torturing myself. I called her. “Where are you?” I could clearly hear Julian’s laughter in the background, but she didn’t even flinch. Her voice was as cold as ever. “Working late.” She couldn’t even be bothered to come up with a more elaborate lie. The laughter faded as she moved to a quieter place, trying to make the lie more believable. “Liana, I’m tired. Let’s get a divorce.” Hearing the finality in my voice, she was silent for a moment. Then, she exploded. “Colin, are you insane? What is this now? If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Don’t bother me.” “I’ll have the papers sent to you. Just sign them.” I hung up, ignoring the furious tirade that followed. I looked around the room, so familiar yet so foreign. This was where I had cooked and cleaned for her, washed and dried her hair, massaged her feet. Where I had comforted her, soothed her worries countless times. After five years of marriage, I finally understood. No matter how much I did, how good I was, it was all for nothing. I wasn’t the one she loved. Anything he did was right. And I… I was just a placeholder for when he wasn’t around. A way to pass the time. Better than nothing. I packed up everything that belonged to me and left the place I had once considered my home. I moved back into my pre-marital condo. It wasn’t as big as her villa, but it gave me a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years. I met with a lawyer and discussed the details of the divorce. He was thorough, offering several strategies to ensure a smooth process. I rested for two days. On the third morning, a call from Liana woke me. “Colin, where did you go? Do you think playing hard to get is interesting?” Her voice was laced with her usual accusatory tone. “Get your ass back here. I already bought you a gift.” The same old pattern. Accusations, blame-shifting, all with an air of absolute entitlement. She never considered my feelings, never tried to see things from my perspective. We were supposed to be a team, but in her eyes, in her heart, I didn’t exist. Once, I collapsed from exhaustion at work. At the same time, a stray cat Julian had taken in threw up a hairball. She was so worried about the cat that she walked right past my unconscious body on the floor and drove over 250 miles to be with him. Even a colleague I didn’t get along with showed more concern, calling an ambulance and taking me to the hospital. When I woke up, the first person I saw was my office rival. Even he was willing to help me, paying my bills and talking to the doctors. My wife? She walked past me without a second glance. Not even a single word of concern. Of course, I was upset. I asked her if I even mattered to her. Her reaction was the same as it was now: furious accusations. “Are you going to make a scene over something so small? Didn’t you get the worker’s comp money? If you don’t want to be married, then let’s get a divorce.” She always used divorce as a threat. I never dared to argue back. I used to love her to the bone. I couldn’t lose her, couldn’t live without her. But the images of her and Julian were burned into my mind. To stop her from divorcing me, I had to lie to myself. Every night, I would tell myself that she was telling the truth, that she and Julian were just good friends, that she loved me. I lived in a fantasy of my own making. She remained on her pedestal, ordering me around, and I was the clueless, lovesick fool. But now, I was done lying to myself. 2 I had plans to have dinner with some colleagues. After work, we all headed to the restaurant. As we stepped out of the elevator, I saw her. Liana. She was standing in the middle of the lobby, bathed in the light of the crystal chandelier. She wore a stunning red dress that made her look both glamorous and cold. Her icy eyes were fixed on me. In the past, I would have been overjoyed. To have such a beautiful wife was a blessing. But now, my heart felt nothing. Instead, I saw something else in her gaze. It was a look of pure indifference, as if I owed her a million dollars. Cold and heartless. I suddenly realized that this was how she had always looked at me. I had just been blinded by love, choosing not to see it. Now, my eyes were open. I quickened my pace, pulling my colleagues along with me. The sound of high heels clicked rapidly behind me. A second later, Liana grabbed my arm. “You have a party tonight,” she said, her voice dripping with arrogance. “You promised me.” I paused. I did seem to remember promising her something. I was about to refuse, but my lawyer’s words echoed in my ears. He had told me that since she was ignoring the divorce papers, the best way to get a smooth separation was not to provoke her. It could lead to unnecessary complications. If I was going to push her buttons, I had to choose the right moment. “Fine.” I got into her car. As the scenery outside flew by, I asked, without thinking, “Why are you wearing this dress?” “It’s Julian’s birthday. He likes red.” The words hung in the air. She fell silent, then glanced at me, only to find me staring out the window. After a moment, she tried to explain. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I just thought it was a formal dress, suitable for the occasion.” “Mm.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue. She probably didn’t even remember. This red dress… it was a gift from me. She had never worn it for me, never even tried it on in front of me. Her excuse was that it was too revealing, the color too bold for her. But she was the one who had told me she liked red. Now I knew the real reason. Julian liked red. So she had dug this dress out to wear for him on his birthday. She had never cared about me, so she brushed me off with flimsy excuses. She cared about Julian, so she dressed up for him, using my gift to please another man. If she had remembered I gave it to her, she probably would have been too disgusted to wear it. A woman dresses for the one who delights her. The old saying was true. She was a beautiful flower, but she would not bloom for me. The difference between being loved and not being loved was on full display. The car stopped in front of a hotel. A valet led us to a private room. Julian was there, surrounded by a laughing, adoring crowd. The moment he saw Liana holding my arm, I saw a flash of disdain on his face. “You’re finally here! Come, sit,” he said, quickly pulling Liana away from me and seating her next to him. The others quickly filled the seats around them, leaving me standing alone. They all looked at me with smug, mocking expressions. Most of the people here were their friends. They had always believed that Julian and Liana were the perfect match, childhood sweethearts destined to be together. And me? I was just the third wheel who had slipped in after they broke up. I was not worthy of Liana, not in the same league as Julian. In the past, I had been so concerned with Liana’s feelings that I had put up with their taunts and provocations, even trying to win them over. It only resulted in more ridicule. The prejudices in people’s hearts are like mountains; no amount of effort can move them. Now, I chose to ignore them. I found a corner to sit in. What others thought was their business. I wouldn’t let it get to me. “Colin, why are you sitting so far away? You’re already late, aren’t you going to come over and toast the birthday boy and apologize?” I looked up at her, my voice cold. “I don’t want to drink.” I had always been so compliant with her. This small act of defiance, in front of her friends, was a public slap in the face. She was stunned for a moment, then snapped, “What is wrong with you now?” Julian, smiling, gently pulled on her arm. “It’s okay, it’s okay. If Colin doesn’t want to drink, it’s fine.” Liana quieted down and immediately turned to chat happily with Julian. They laughed and talked, and everyone looked at them like they were watching a romance unfold. From my corner, I was the odd one out.

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  • Reborn 15 Years Later: Beating Up My Husband

    1 I died during a difficult childbirth. When I woke up, I had been reborn fifteen years into the future. On my first day back, I discovered that the precious daughter I had given my life for was being bullied by my husband’s so-called “one that got away,” and her child. And my husband? He had become one of the city’s most enigmatic figures, a recluse cloaked in incense and prayer, detached from the world. So, I grabbed a fistful of his hair, slapped him three times, hard, and asked him coldly, “Is this how you honor my memory?” I forced my eyes open, a dizzying sense of disorientation washing over me. I was standing on the sidewalk next to my old high school. A few pedestrians drifted by, some casting confused glances at my stunned figure. After ten minutes of staring at the sky, I had to accept the impossible truth. Not only had I been reborn, but I had also time-traveled fifteen years into the future. Pulling myself together, I borrowed a phone from a passerby and dialed the number of the man who, before my death, had been my husband: Warren Owen. After a few rings, the call connected. “Hello, who is this?” The familiar male voice, deep and resonant, was the same, yet different. It held a new weight, a magnetic gravity it hadn’t possessed before. A lump formed in my throat. My voice trembled as I spoke, on the verge of tears. “Warren, it’s Sloane. I know this is going to sound insane, but I think I might have… time-traveled? Anyway, I’m at our old high school. Can you just… come get me?” A long, heavy silence stretched from the other end of the line. Just as I was about to say something to break the tension, he let out a short, sharp laugh. It was laced with scorn. “I don’t know how you people got my number, but tell whoever put you up to this to try a more original approach next time. You think mimicking a voice is enough to get my attention? It’s pathetic. Disgusting.” His verbal assault struck me like a physical blow. My fingers went numb, and then a hot rage surged through me. Forgetting where I was, I snapped, my voice sharp and cold. “Warren Owen, have I spoiled you rotten? You can’t even recognize your own wife’s voice? Seems like you’ve wasted the last fifteen years.” The man on the other end choked. I pressed on, my voice dripping with fury. “I don’t care what hole you’ve been hiding in. You have thirty minutes to get your ass over here, or you can go dig your own grave.” I hung up, leaving the phone’s owner staring at me, mouth agape. I managed a weak, apologetic smile and handed it back. She took the phone, hesitating for a moment before asking, “Excuse me… were you talking to… Warren Owen? From Owen Industries? I’m sorry, it was on speaker, and the voice sounded like…” I blinked, then nodded, asking cautiously, “You know him?” She let out a breath of relief and waved a dismissive hand. “Who in this city doesn’t know the prince of the Owen dynasty?” Seeing my curiosity, and assuming I was a friend of his, her inner gossip columnist took over. “After Mrs. Owen died in childbirth, she left him with a daughter. Everyone thought he’d remarry soon, especially after his old flame returned to the country with such a huge splash. But instead, after building Owen Industries into an empire, he just… disappeared. Became a recluse. No one knows where he went, though he sometimes shows up at the annual company gala. But…” “But what?” I prompted. The woman leaned in conspiratorially. “Well, this is just a rumor, but they say he and his old flame are finally getting serious. People are betting he’ll come out of seclusion for her. I mean, she’s Evelyn Croft, the Oscar-winning actress. What man could resist that?” I raised an eyebrow, a cold smile touching my lips. “Looks like I’ve come all this way just in time for a wedding celebration.” Sensing the sudden chill in my demeanor, the woman quickly excused herself and hurried away. Two major shocks in a row. A wave of bitterness and grief washed over me. If Warren and his old flame were truly in love, I wouldn’t stand in their way. I had no right to expect him to mourn me for fifteen years. But my daughter… I hadn’t even met her yet. I had to know if she was okay. Knowing Warren, I had a good idea of where he would have sent her. The best private school in the city—our alma mater. I hailed a cab, and soon, the familiar, imposing gates of the school came into view. 2 Suddenly, a cacophony of jeers and laughter shattered the quiet afternoon. I looked up to see a group of preppy boys, a high-school gang in blazers and loafers, dragging a short-haired girl with a downcast gaze out of the school gates. It was classic bullying. I frowned. This was supposed to be the city’s most elite private academy. How could this be happening here? Something about the girl felt strangely familiar. I found myself following them, an inexplicable pull guiding my steps. The group ducked into a secluded alleyway. At their center stood a pretty, delicate-looking girl with long, flowing hair. But what she did next was anything but delicate. She brutally kicked the short-haired girl in the small of her back. The girl cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground. The long-haired girl sneered. “I heard Uncle Warren got you a huge birthday present. Why don’t you show everyone?” The girl on the ground clutched her backpack tighter, her body trembling. “Not this one!” The leader kicked her again, her pretty face twisted with a viciousness that didn’t belong on someone so young. She spat on the ground next to the girl’s head. “Don’t be a bitch, Sierra Owen.” The name struck my heart like a fist. Sierra. Warren and I had picked it out when I was pregnant. Whether it was a boy or a girl, the name would be Sierra. My gaze snapped to the girl on the ground. Even with her face half-hidden by her hair, I could see her bright, determined eyes. The features, so like my own… it could only be my daughter. Just then, the leader looked down at her cronies. “Grab her bag! And while you’re at it, strip her down. Let’s teach her a lesson about defying me.” My eyes narrowed. The last shred of my reason burned away in a blaze of pure fury. I wanted to tear them all limb from limb. So, Warren, I thought, my blood running cold, this is the life my daughter has been living. I grabbed a heavy wooden plank from a nearby dumpster, stormed into the alley, and shoved my way through the crowd, planting myself in front of Sierra. The long-haired girl jumped back, startled by my appearance. Then, as if triggered, she shrieked, “Who the hell are you? This has nothing to do with you! Get lost before we take you down too!” “Shut up,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “None of you are getting away with this.” A bunch of spoiled brats who hadn’t even been born when I’d single-handedly saved Warren from a team of professional kidnappers. This would be easy. 3 I cracked my knuckles. Luckily, my body still felt like it was in its twenties. Otherwise, this might have been a bit of a workout. A few minutes later, the prep-school thugs were all groaning on the grimy asphalt. I planted my foot on the long-haired girl’s face, grinding it into the pavement. It wasn’t enough. I kicked her hard in the stomach, twice, paying her back for the kicks she’d given my daughter. She coughed up a mouthful of blood and saliva, her body twitching. All her previous arrogance was gone. “My mom…” she sputtered, her words slurred. “My mom won’t let you get away with this! Uncle Warren won’t either!” “Oh? And who’s your mother?” I asked, taking a perverse pleasure in her misery. “Tell me. I’d love to know what kind of bitch raised a little monster like you.” “Her mom… her mom is Evelyn Croft.” Sierra, who had been trembling behind me, finally spoke a full sentence. She tugged timidly at the corner of my jacket. “Miss, you should go. If her mother finds out, you’ll be in danger…” That familiar name again. My heart sank. I was beginning to understand why my daughter’s life had become this. My heart ached. I pulled Sierra into my arms, stroking her soft hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” I whispered. “Mommy’s here to protect you.” Sierra’s eyes widened. “Mommy…?” she whispered back. “Are you… my mommy?” A bond between a mother and child often needs no explanation. A single look is enough. In that instant, Sierra seemed to believe that this powerful, beautiful woman standing before her was, impossibly, her mother. I helped her up, and we started to walk out of the dark, damp alley. As we emerged into the light, we ran straight into an unwelcome figure. “Dad… what are you doing here?” Sierra asked timidly. Speak of the devil. I looked up. The man in front of me had barely changed. He was broader, more muscular, and carried himself with a quiet, mature confidence, but it was him. It was as if fifteen years had left nothing more than a speck of dust on him. “Warren,” I said coolly. “Long time no see.” The moment he saw me, his eyes went red. He reached out a trembling hand, as if to touch my face, then snatched it back as if burned. “Sloane…” he stammered, completely at a loss. “It’s really you. You came back.” I felt Sierra’s hand on my arm tighten, and my expression grew colder. Warren flinched under my glare, finally taking in the scene around him. The long-haired girl I’d beaten to a pulp saw him and began crawling toward him like he was her savior, weakly pleading for him to save her, to kill the “vicious woman” who had attacked her. Warren frowned down at her, his voice edged with annoyance. “You again?” I cut him off. “What’s the matter? Are you going to kill me to avenge your precious old flame?” His frown deepened. “What old flame? You know perfectly well I don’t have one.” “I don’t care if you do or not. Warren, you’ve disappointed me more than I can say.” I tried to walk around him, pulling Sierra with me. He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. His eyes were so red they looked like they might start bleeding. “Don’t you go!” he roared, his voice cracking. “You’re not leaving me again!”

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  • The Funeral Wedding

    1 On my wedding day, I waited and waited for my fiancé, Alex, to pick me up, but the wedding car was nowhere in sight. When it finally arrived, I saw that it was draped in black cloth. Inside, the seats were covered in white linen, transforming it into a hearse. Alex’s young assistant, Chloe, sat in the passenger seat, clutching a small urn. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. “Evelyn,” she sobbed, “please don’t be upset. My little dog, Dot, died yesterday. The fortune teller said today was an auspicious day for a burial, so she could be reincarnated. Alex said we could give Dot a ride on the way. You don’t mind, do you?” I stared at Alex, my voice cold. “For your assistant’s dog, you turned our wedding car into a hearse?” “There’s an old saying,” he said, his voice laced with impatience. “Marriage is the death of love. A wedding car, a hearse… what’s the difference?” I ripped off my veil, threw it to the ground, and made a phone call. “Are you free to get married today?” … The ceremony was in an hour, but Alex wasn’t answering his phone. I pulled up his assistant Chloe’s contact, planning to ask her what was going on. Alex had delegated all the wedding planning to her, telling me, “All you have to do is be a beautiful bride. Let your assistant handle the trivial stuff.” Chloe had insisted on a “unique and modern” approach, forgoing the traditional grand procession. Instead, she suggested the bride and groom drive to the chapel together, hand in hand, for a more “romantic” entrance. Which meant that now, my only option was to wait for Alex to pick me up. I opened my messaging app and saw that Chloe had just posted a new photo. It was a black-and-white shot of her, dressed in mourning, a white camellia tucked into her hair. Her eyes were swollen, a picture of delicate sorrow. She was leaning her head on a man’s shoulder, cradling a small urn. The caption read: “Mommy and Daddy will love you forever.” The man’s shoulder looked familiar, but I quickly closed the app before I could dwell on it. Seeing something like that on my wedding day was just bad luck. A question flickered through my mind—Chloe wasn’t married, was she? Where did the “Daddy” come from? Before I could think any further, Alex called and told me to come downstairs. Clutching my bouquet, I rushed out the door, my heart full of joy. The smile froze on my face. Our wedding car was draped in black. Through the window, I could see the seats were covered in white cloth. It looked exactly like a hearse. Just yesterday, this car had been a vision. It was decorated with my favorite flowers and sparkling crystals, adorned with romantic symbols of love. I had poured my heart into every detail, all for this day. Now, it was all gone. In its place was a somber, lifeless hearse. My blood ran cold. “Alex,” I stammered, “what is this?” From the passenger seat, Chloe rolled down the window, her voice thick with tears. “Evelyn, please don’t be upset. My little dog, Dot, died yesterday. The fortune teller said today was an auspicious day for a burial, so she could be reincarnated. Alex said we could give Dot a ride on the way. You don’t mind, do you?” She sniffled. “I just couldn’t stand all the festive decorations on the car, so I made a few changes with some black fabric. Black and white are very trendy for weddings now, you know. I thought it would work. This way, we don’t have to delay the wedding or Dot’s funeral.” Who in their right mind decorates a wedding car with black drapes and white sheets? The blood rushed to my head. My voice became shrill. “Today is my wedding day, Chloe. Are you doing this just to spite me?” “Alex, we’re getting married today, and you’ve turned our wedding car into a hearse for a dog? Aren’t you worried about the bad omen?” “All our friends and family are waiting at the hotel. Are you seriously going to drive this to the wedding?” Alex’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “It’s just transportation. As long as it gets us to the hotel, what’s the big deal? Can’t you have a little compassion?” 2 “There’s an old saying,” he continued, “marriage is the death of love. A wedding and a funeral, what’s the difference? A hearse is perfectly appropriate.” “Besides,” he added, “Chloe couldn’t even get a taxi while holding Dot’s urn. If we don’t help her, who will? You’re usually so understanding. What’s wrong with you today?” Tears streamed down my face. I lunged forward and started ripping the black fabric off the car. “Who gave you permission to touch my wedding car? What gives you the right?” Chloe rushed over to stop me. “Evelyn, please don’t! Today is Dot’s funeral. Please, let her go in peace.” “Get away from me!” I shoved her. She stumbled back and fell into Alex’s arms. He steadied her, then grabbed me and pushed me to the ground. “Haven’t you had enough? Your wedding dress is white, isn’t it? What’s wrong with white seats? Is this some kind of double standard? Have some decency.” My hand slammed against the pavement. A sharp pain shot through my palm, and blood began to well up. I pointed a trembling finger at the urn in Chloe’s arms. “Alex, do you hear yourself? Have you even for one second considered my feelings?” “A woman gets married once in her life, and you want me to ride in a hearse? Do you even want to marry me?” Alex was about to argue, but Chloe stopped him. “Alex, it’s all my fault. I was just so heartbroken about Dot, I didn’t think about Evelyn’s feelings. The wedding is much more important than Dot. And she was just my pet. I can handle this myself.” Her tears fell onto the small urn. “I don’t have any family in this city. Dot was all I had. She was like family to me. I’m sorry. I just wanted to give her a perfect funeral.” Her voice cracked. “Even if I have to walk, I’ll get to the cemetery.” She opened the passenger door and stumbled out of the car, a fragile, pitiable figure in her black dress. She looked at me, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn. Please, get in the car.” Alex got out and grabbed her arm. “You’re not going anywhere. I said I’d give Dot a ride, and I will. Don’t you remember? I said I’d be her daddy, didn’t I?” Suddenly, Chloe’s social media post from this morning flashed in my mind. “Mommy and Daddy will love you forever.” She was Mommy, and Alex was Daddy. And that familiar shoulder… it was his. Chloe had joined Alex’s company as a secretary a year ago. He praised her for being meticulous and thoughtful and quickly promoted her to his primary assistant, entrusting her with many important tasks. I’d heard whispers from older colleagues, subtle hints that I should watch out for Alex and Chloe. But this was Alex, the man I had loved for years, the man who loved me deeply. I would have suspected any other man of cheating, but never him. Now, the truth was staring me in the face. Chloe was more than just a secretary, and Alex was no longer the man I knew. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I choked, unable to speak. Today was supposed to be the culmination of our ten-year love story, and this was happening. Alex turned back to me. “Do you have to be like this? Do you know how far the cemetery is? Do you know how long it would take Chloe to walk there? You know no one will give her a ride while she’s carrying an urn. Do you really have to pick a fight with her when she’s at her most vulnerable?” As he got closer, I caught a whiff of camellia perfume. It was Chloe’s scent. I felt a wave of nausea and took a step back, covering my mouth. He opened the car door and helped Chloe back in. “You don’t have to get out. I said I’d take you, and I will.” He got back in the car and looked at me. “Get in. The wedding is about to start, isn’t it? I promised we’d have the ceremony first. You’ll still be a beautiful bride. After the wedding, we’ll go with Chloe to bury Dot.” 3 Rage surged through me. I yanked open the car door. “Chloe, this is my car. Please get out. I do not consent to you taking this car to a cemetery. I can call a taxi for you, or have a friend drive you.” “Alex, call the wedding planner right now and have them restore this car to its original state.” Chloe looked at me, tears streaming down her face. She wiped her eyes fiercely. “Fine. I won’t disrupt your wedding. I wish you both happiness.” She gently pushed Alex’s hand away and looked up at him, her face a mask of tragic beauty. “Go get married. I told you we weren’t heading in the same direction. Why did you have to make Evelyn angry?” “Just let me take Dot myself.” She pressed her face against the urn. “Dot, Mommy will take you.” Alex exploded. He shoved me away, and I stumbled back into a flower bed. The sharp edge of the planter dug into my back. A searing pain shot through me, and my vision went black. The bouquet fell from my hand. “Enough! Are you done? How long are you going to throw a fit over a car? As long as I’m the one marrying you, that should be enough. What more do you want?” “You’re about to be Mrs. Reed. You’ll have everything. Why are you making things so difficult for Chloe? All she had was Dot, and now she’s lost her too. Are you really going to push her to the edge?” “If I had known you would turn into such a cruel, unreasonable person, I never would have agreed to marry you.” His words were a knife, twisting in my heart. Alex and I were college sweethearts. He was on a full scholarship, from a poor family, and had taken out loans to get through school. We fell in love on campus. To protect his pride, I hid my own family’s wealth and started a business with him. After graduation, we struggled together, enduring countless hardships. Finally, things had started to look up. We had our own company. With my father’s secret help, Alex’s business grew, and he became a rising star in the city’s business world. He had proposed, and today was our wedding. I had invited all our friends and family. I was going to reveal my family’s identity to him at the wedding. I believed we could live happily ever after. But now, as I watched him hold his fragile secretary, as I looked at the car I had bought, now transformed into a hearse, I closed my eyes. Maybe things had changed a long time ago. Maybe I just hadn’t been willing to see it. Alex looked at me coldly. “I’m giving you two choices. One, get in the car now, and we’ll go to the hotel for the ceremony.” “Two, if you’re going to keep throwing a tantrum, then you can walk. After all, you’re the one who doesn’t want to ride in a hearse, right?” Through the car window, I could see Chloe still nestled in his arms, her eyes, when she glanced at me, full of triumph and provocation. She “helped” by saying, “Evelyn, don’t be angry. I’ll try to talk to Alex.” Then she turned to him, her voice a coquettish whisper. I could just make out the words: “Evelyn has been dreaming of marrying you. Even if you leave her here, she’ll forgive you. She’ll find a way to the hotel. But can’t you just humor her a little?” “You can’t just assume she’ll marry you no matter what and treat her like this.” “I’ve spoiled her,” Alex said coldly. “That’s why she’s so unreasonable.” I stared at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. He gritted his teeth. “Fine. If you’re not getting in, then walk.” He stomped on the gas. The car sped off, leaving me standing there. My bridal bouquet was crushed under the tires, a mangled, unrecognizable mess. I sank to the ground, covering my face, and sobbed. A text message came through. It was from Alex. Since you’re being so childish, you must not be in a hurry to get married. We’ll postpone the ceremony until tonight. I’m taking Chloe to bury Dot first. You should take this time to reflect on your behavior. The Mrs. Reed I want is obedient, sensible, and understanding. Not a hysterical brat like you.

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  • Daddy’s White Moonlight Returns​

    My father’s one that got away came back. For the sake of true love, my father was willing to leave my mother with nothing, to divorce her and marry the woman he’d idolized since he was a boy. My mother agreed. And I, for one, couldn’t wait to see if his precious first love would still want him when he had absolutely nothing. 1 The atmosphere in our house was thick enough to choke on. My workaholic father was home before me for the first time in memory. My mother, who was always smiling, sat on the sofa with a face like stone. “Kate,” my mother said, her voice flat. “Your father and I are getting a divorce.” The words hit me like a bomb. After she explained, I understood. My father had a first love, the one that got away. When she moved abroad years ago, he lost all hope. Then he met my mother, who fell for him hard and pursued him relentlessly. So, he married her. Now, his first love was back. They’d run into each other, and my father saw it as a sign from the heavens. He was ready to burn his life to the ground to be with her. “Let’s ignore the fact that you haven’t seen this woman in decades,” I said, trying to reason with him. “She didn’t want you when you were a broke kid, but now that you’re the chairman of a public company, she’s suddenly interested? What’s she after, Dad, you or your wallet?” “Don’t you dare speak about Vivian that way!” he roared, his face flushing a deep red, as if I had desecrated something holy. He’d never spoken to me like that. I had always been his pride and joy. My mother and I exchanged a look. The disappointment in her eyes mirrored my own. “Since you’ve both made your decision, I can’t interfere,” I said, changing my tone. “No matter what, you’ll always be my parents.” A look of relief washed over my father’s face. “Kate, I knew you were a good kid. I knew you’d understand.” “But I should remind you,” I added casually, “that when you divorce Mom, you leave with nothing. You’ve poured your heart and soul into the Su Corporation for years. Are you really sure you want to give that all up?” My dad had married into our family. He was a broke but talented nobody when my mother, hopelessly infatuated, insisted on marrying him against my grandfather’s wishes. My grandfather eventually relented, but only after my father signed an ironclad prenup: if they ever divorced, for any reason, he would leave with nothing. My mother was a socialite, better at spending money than making it. My father had always run the company. But even so, the shares, the real power, had always been in my name and my mother’s. He didn’t own a single one. A divorce meant he would get nothing. On the important things, my mother was sharp as a tack. “Vivian and I have true love,” he declared, his chest puffed out. “True love can’t be measured in money. I won’t take a penny from the Su family. I’ll build a new empire with my own two hands and make Vivian happy!” What an inspiring speech. Except he couldn’t manage to build an empire when he was young and hungry. What made him think he could do it now, in his middle age? Years at the helm of the Su Corporation had given him a platform and inflated his ego. Did he really think that without our company, he was still the respected Chairman Thorne? “I respect your choice, Dad. In that case, we should hold a board meeting in a few days. I’ll be taking over as the new Chairwoman.” He stared at me, stunned. “What do you mean? The board appointed me Chairman. Since when is that your decision to make?” I let out a small, humorless laugh. “Have you forgotten, Dad? The board chose you because Mom and I hold the majority of the shares. We voted for you. Now that you’re divorcing her, do you really think we’ll continue to support you? A chairman with no shares doesn’t even have the right to be on the board.” My words choked him. He couldn’t argue, so he turned to my mother. “Eleanor, is this what you want, too?” My mother’s voice was even more venomous than mine. “Do you not understand what ‘leaving with nothing’ means? Once you divorce me, you’re no longer part of this family. Why should you run my family’s company and collect my family’s paycheck? The nerve.” His face was beet red. “I’m still Kate’s father!” “Yes, you are,” I agreed sweetly. “And when you reach retirement age, I’ll be sure to pay your alimony on time. Don’t you worry, Dad. I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of in your old age. You won’t be lonely.” My father’s pride was his greatest weakness. Hearing us talk like this, he dropped the argument. “I don’t need it! The Su family’s money has nothing to do with me. I’ll build my own success. You just wait and see!” He stormed out. The moment he was gone, my mother and I burst out laughing. Seeing she wasn’t heartbroken, I got curious. “Mom, you were so crazy about him back then. You went on a hunger strike and defied Grandpa just to marry him. Why is it so easy to let him go now?” “When I was young, I was blinded by his handsome face,” she said with a shrug. “Now, his beer belly is bigger than his head. The crush faded a long time ago. I was only staying married out of a sense of duty. Now that he’s the one asking for a divorce, why wouldn’t I be happy?” It was true. The best cure for a crush is seeing the guy when his prime has passed. 2 My parents quickly signed the divorce papers and filed them at the courthouse. They just had to wait out the thirty-day cooling-off period, and it would be final. My father began moving his things out to live with his precious Vivian. Although he was leaving with “nothing,” he had earned a lot for the company over the years and had built up a personal slush fund. My mother, in a gesture of generosity, turned a blind eye to it, not wanting to send him out completely penniless. But all their shared properties, stocks, and investments went to her. After buying a new villa, my father’s slush fund was nearly depleted. With the assets divided, it was time to deal with the company. The board meeting was scheduled for the following week. Before then, we needed a PR strategy to manage the fallout from changing the chairman of a publicly traded company. This wasn’t something that could be handled overnight. I thought everything would go according to plan, but I ran into trouble the moment I stepped into the office. “Ms. Su,” my assistant, Alex, said, looking grim. “The deal with Sterling Industries fell through.” “Sterling is one of our oldest clients. The renewal should have been a formality. Why did it fall through?” Alex looked uncomfortable, stammering. My face hardened. “Tell me. What happened?” “It was Ms. Bianca, the manager Mr. Thorne appointed. She handled the negotiations. She felt we were giving Sterling too favorable a discount. She said we’re the only supplier who can produce their parts, so she raised the price on the renewal contract. Sterling refused to sign.” “Why wasn’t I informed about something this important? And who is this Ms. Bianca? How did HR hire such an idiot?” “Mr. Thorne said she had full authority and didn’t need to report up. And HR didn’t hire her. Mr. Thorne brought her in directly.” My father was usually a shrewd businessman, never careless with major company decisions. For him to hire this manager behind my back meant she was more than just an employee. “Schedule a meeting with Mr. Sterling. I’ll talk to him myself. Also, send Ms. Bianca to my office.” While Alex went to get her, I pulled up her file. Bianca White. A degree from an overseas university—one of those diploma mills you can buy your way into. No prior work experience. Parachuted directly into a manager position in the business department. When had the standards at the Su Corporation gotten so low? Then, on her resume, I found the reason. Bianca White’s mother was named Vivian. My father’s one that got away. Of course. 3 When Alex ushered Bianca in, she wore a look of utter disdain. She sat down without even greeting me. “You wanted to see me, Ms. Su?” “You’re fired.” I had planned to ask for her side of the story, but seeing her attitude, I knew I didn’t need to. “On what grounds?” Bianca shot back, defiant. “Robert Thorne hired me personally!” “On the grounds that you sabotaged the Sterling deal. Sterling has been a client for decades. In one move, you lost us their business. For a mistake of that magnitude, who else would I fire?” I said, not even bothering to look up from my files. “The Su Corporation is a huge company. We have other clients besides Sterling. Besides, that discount was costing the company money. I was saving us money!” She sounded so convinced of her own logic that I almost laughed. I had no time to argue with a moron whose head was filled with water. “Alex, take her to HR to process her termination.” But Bianca refused to move. “You have no right to fire me! Do you think Robert knows about this? This is all because your parents are divorcing, isn’t it? You blame my mother! Well, I’ll have you know, my mother and Robert are getting married! Soon I’ll be his daughter, and this company will be his, which means half of it will be mine!” I rubbed my temples. If the daughter was this stupid, the mother couldn’t be much brighter. What on earth did my father see in her? “What are you standing there for? Call security!” I snapped at Alex, who was standing frozen, gawking at the family drama. For the salary he earned, you’d think he’d have more sense. At my words, Alex finally fumbled for his phone. Seeing this, Bianca escalated. She actually called my father. “Robert, you have to come quick! They’re trying to throw me out!” My father arrived in a flash, faster than the security guards. So protective. The moment he appeared, Bianca’s face transformed. She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, her voice trembling. “Robert, I don’t know what I did to make my sister so upset. She just came in and said she was firing me.” “Don’t worry, I’ll handle this,” my father soothed, then turned to me, his eyes blazing. “Kate, this is between the adults. Don’t you dare drag Bianca into this. She’s innocent.” I laughed coldly. “Innocent? She used her connections to get a job she’s not qualified for and then blew our biggest contract, and you’re telling me she’s innocent?” My father clearly hadn’t heard about the Sterling deal. He looked at Bianca, confused. She immediately started playing the victim. “Robert, I didn’t mean to,” she whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. “That discount was costing you so much money. I was just trying to save your money.” I snorted. She thought the Su Corporation would one day be hers, and she was trying to save her own money. My father, of course, bought her act completely. His tone softened. “Kate, Bianca meant well. She’s young and doesn’t know any better. Forgive her this once. You can train her, and I’m sure she’ll do a great job.” He wanted me to train her? I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Excuse me, do I need to remind you both? This company is the Su Corporation. As in my name, Kate Su. Not Thorne. And certainly not White.” 4 My father’s face darkened. Bianca fanned the flames. “Robert, see? Your own daughter has no respect for you! You worked so hard to build this company, and this is how she treats you!” “What do I mean? I mean exactly what I said!” My voice turned to ice. “Dad, I don’t care what your relationship is with this woman, and I don’t care about your sordid affairs. You and Mom are getting a divorce. But this company was left to me by my grandfather, and I will not allow anyone to jeopardize its future.” My father’s temper flared. “I’ve poured twenty years of my life into this company! I care about it more than you do—” “Do I need to remind you?” I cut him off. “You’re divorcing my mother. You’re leaving with nothing. The Su Corporation has nothing to do with you, and it certainly has nothing to do with this girl who is suddenly your daughter. I have every right to fire her, because very soon, you, the Chairman, will be leaving too.” His face went gray. “Kate, must you be so cruel to your own father?” I scoffed. “You left my mother for your first love. To put it nicely, you’re rekindling an old flame. To put it bluntly, you’re having an affair. You didn’t think you were being cruel to my mother when you betrayed her, so how is me stating the facts cruel?” Hearing this, Bianca panicked, clutching my father’s sleeve. “Robert, what does she mean? What do you mean the company has nothing to do with you?” My father sighed. “I’ll explain later when we get home.” He turned back to me. “Kate, Bianca is a good kid. My leaving the company has nothing to do with her. I hope you two can get along as sisters. She could be a great help to you one day.” “I don’t need her help. My mother only had one child. I don’t have any sisters. And,” I looked him straight in the eye, “an idiot like her would only be a liability. She is leaving this company, today.” My father knew my temperament. Realizing he couldn’t win, he turned to Bianca. “Go ahead and process your termination, Bianca. I’ll help you find another job later.” Bianca left with my father, but not before shooting me a look brimming with resentment and jealousy. With her gone, I convened the board, officially removed my father from his position as Chairman, and took his place. All that was left was for my parents to finalize the divorce after the cooling-off period. But things are never that simple. My father had barely left the building when I got a frantic call from my mother. “Kate, you have to get home, now! That woman is here, making a scene!” “I’m on my way!” My mind went blank. I was terrified of what that woman might do to my mother. My mom is a lovely, pampered woman—a hothouse flower, really. My grandfather spoiled her rotten, and she knows nothing of the real world. Even with a butler and staff, I could just picture her letting some lunatic into the house. If that woman tried to bully her, she wouldn’t be able to fight back. My grandfather raised me, and before he passed, he made me promise to take care of her. I couldn’t let anything happen to her.

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  • All Past Is Prologue

    My roommate’s cousin was the CEO of a major corporation. We had been in a secret relationship for three years. One day, he told me, “Hey, my cousin’s bringing her boyfriend of three years to meet my parents tonight.” He clapped me on the back. “By the way, when are you gonna bring your girlfriend around for me to meet?” I didn’t know how to answer. I mumbled an excuse and slipped out onto the balcony, dialing his cousin’s number. The call was rejected. I turned around and froze. My girlfriend was standing in the doorway, her arm linked with another man’s. The moment she saw me, the smile vanished from her face. “What are you doing in my house?” 1 The question, sharp and accusatory, hung in the air. Every eye in the room turned to me. Realizing her mistake, Phoebe’s tone softened, but the damage was done. “Charles? What a surprise. I thought you were on a business trip.” Under the curious gaze of her family, I stood frozen for a beat before forcing a bitter smile, playing along with her charade. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. So, this was it. I was the secret she couldn’t bear to let see the light of day. A million questions, a million unspoken words, were screaming in my head, but all my strength had evaporated. Suddenly, none of it seemed to matter anymore. “Just got back,” I said, my voice hollow. “Didn’t have a chance to let you know, Ms. Branson.” My compliance seemed to soothe her, and her expression returned to normal. The dinner was a masterclass in performance art. I played the part of a congenial guest, clinking glasses with Phoebe’s “boyfriend,” Nick, and even exchanging contact information. We pretended to hit it off. I didn’t speak another word to Phoebe for the rest of the evening. After dinner, I went home alone. I sat on the sofa, the image of Phoebe on Nick’s arm branded into my mind. I saw her introducing him to her parents, to her relatives, as her boyfriend. It was everything I had ever wanted. I had dreamed of her taking me home, of her telling her parents that I would spend my life making her happy, that I would never let her suffer. Instead, I was a rat, scurrying in the shadows. I sat there until midnight. Finally, Phoebe came home. The storm of emotions that had been building inside me should have erupted, just as it had so many times before. The familiar cycle: a tense calm, an argument, shouting, excuses, blame, and finally, the cold war of silence. But this time, I felt nothing. The fight had gone out of me. It was all meaningless. Phoebe took off her shoes. Seeing me sitting there in the dark, she spoke first, a rare occurrence. “I only brought Nick to meet my parents because they’ve been pressuring me to get married. I just asked him to play the part for a day, to get them off my back.” “Mm,” I said, acknowledging her explanation. Nothing more. Logically, I knew my reaction was perfectly reasonable. But for some reason, it made her angry. The impatience in her voice was so sharp it made me look up. “Charles, I just explained everything. What is this attitude?” Her words hit me like a physical blow. Without thinking, I shot back, “You asked your assistant to pretend to be your boyfriend? Why didn’t you just take me? I’m your actual boyfriend!” “Because you would have embarrassed me in front of my parents!” The words hung in the air, heavy and final. She threw her handbag at me, turned, and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door so hard the frame rattled. The bag was a gift from Nick. A discounted Coach bucket bag from an outlet mall, but she carried it everywhere. She would shield it from the rain with her own body. The Chanel classic flap I had bought her, however, was slashed to ribbons and thrown in the trash after Nick declared it was “obviously a fake.” It was so obvious. How had I been so blind? Her first, unfiltered reaction in a moment of anger—that was the truth. She was ashamed of me. Of course she was. I met her in college, a nobody. Because of her, I didn’t go back home after graduation; I went to work at her company. She was the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar corporation. In everyone else’s eyes, I was just a freeloader, riding her coattails. I was an embarrassment. Nick, on the other hand, was her equal, a perfect match who made her look good. It didn’t matter that for three years, I had been devoted to her, that I had catered to her every whim. I could never compete with Nick. It was time to end this ridiculous three-year charade. I took a spare blanket from the closet and spent the night in the study. For the first time in a long time, I slept soundly. The next morning, I got ready and left for work. As I was leaving the apartment complex, I got a call from the dealership. “Mr. Thomas? Your car is ready for pickup.” Last month, Phoebe had lent my car to Nick without asking. When he returned it, he casually mentioned a few scratches. I had wanted to confront him, but Phoebe had defended him, so I had to let it go and just send the car in for repairs. I arrived at the dealership shortly after. The manager handed me my keys with a knowing, conspiratorial smile. He gestured to a gift bag on the passenger seat, emblazoned with the dealership’s logo. “Hey, buddy,” he said, winking. “We put everything back for you. I get it, you’re young. But maybe be a little more discreet next time? Keep your… personal items… out of sight before you bring the car in. It was a bit awkward for the mechanics.” Confused, I opened the bag. Inside was a set of lacy lingerie and a pair of nipple clamps with little bells on them. I knew exactly what that meant. And I knew Phoebe and I had never done anything like that in the car. There was only one possible conclusion. It was her and Nick. 2 There was no questioning, no anger. Not even surprise. I removed the dashcam’s memory card. “Do you buy used cars?” I asked the manager. “We certainly do, sir!” I didn’t haggle. We quickly settled on a price, and I took a taxi to the office. As I sat down at my desk, I overheard a few female colleagues gossiping. “Do you think Ms. Branson is really with that assistant of hers?” “That’s what I’ve been thinking! I heard she personally recruited Nick, offered him a huge salary!” “Of course she did. They were college classmates, you know. I saw them at a bar together just last night!” Even though I knew it was over, a sharp pain still pierced my heart. So that’s how it was. I numbly opened my computer, but the blank document stared back at me. I couldn’t write a single word. “Charles!” Phoebe’s voice came from behind me. “You’re an hour late! I’m marking you as absent for the day.” Before I could argue, she added, “I checked your time card. Exactly one hour. According to company policy…” “Okay.” I nodded, my eyes still fixed on the screen, trying to figure out how to start the damn project proposal. My placid acceptance seemed to surprise her. She lingered by my desk, her shadow falling over my workspace, blocking the light. I looked up, confused. “Is there something else, Ms. Branson?” She crossed her arms, looking down at me, her face a mask of scrutiny. “Charles, don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” I feigned confusion, thinking for a moment. “I was late. That’s a fact. You’re following company policy, which is as it should be. I don’t think I have anything to explain. I don’t have any excuses.” My frankness seemed to disarm her. She glared at me for another moment before turning and walking away. Soon, I was lost in my work, and the hours flew by. When I finally took off my headphones and looked up, the entire office was empty. It was 11:30 at night. I cursed my work buddies under my breath for not telling me they were leaving. The sharp click of high heels approached from behind. Phoebe, having just thrown away her takeout container, sat down in the chair next to me. “Why didn’t you reply to my messages?” I opened my laptop and saw that she had indeed messaged me. “Help me with this. Which of these CPUs, motherboards, and graphics cards are the best? For triple-A gaming.” “And how do I get the RGB lighting in the case to look cool? Is liquid cooling better than air cooling?” She knew I was an expert in this field. It was my bread and butter. A year ago, I had mentioned wanting a new high-end Intel processor. It wasn’t that I was trying to get a gift out of her; it was a time when she was running hot and cold, and I was desperate for some sign that I still mattered to her. Her response then had been sharp and dismissive. “You’re not a college kid anymore, Charles! You’ve been out of school for two years. Stop thinking about video games and focus on your work!” I had tried to explain that for my work, a powerful CPU was more important than a graphics card, but she hadn’t listened. Now, I put together a list of components for her. She was thrilled. After she placed the order, she insisted we leave work together. On the way home, I sat in the back seat, running diagnostics on my laptop. I idly scrolled through my social media feed. The first post was from Nick. A nine-photo grid with the caption: “I just have to mention it, and it happens. This is what it feels like to be loved.” The photos were of the high-end gaming setup Phoebe had just ordered. I liked the post and left a comment. “Wishing you all the best.” A few moments later, Phoebe’s phone buzzed. The car screeched to a halt on the side of the road. She turned and glared at me. “So I bought him a gaming computer. What’s with the passive-aggressive comment on his post?” Her voice was rising. “I’ll buy you one too! I’ll buy you whatever you want, is that it?” I was annoyed. The sudden stop had made me hit a key, interrupting the diagnostic program that was almost finished. Now I had to start over. But I had no energy to fight. I sighed, restarted the program, and said, as calmly as I could, “I wasn’t being passive-aggressive. It was a sincere comment. You don’t have to be so sensitive.” Her face darkened. She reached over and slammed my laptop shut. “Is this because I asked Nick to pretend to be my boyfriend? Are you going to keep throwing a tantrum about this?” she seethed. “Is this fun for you, Charles? You should be thanking him, not leaving snide comments on his posts. Don’t think I’m going to coddle you just because you’re younger than me. If you’re going to act like a child, go home to your parents. Don’t expect me to put up with it! Know your place!” Her voice was laced with a final, threatening edge. “One more stunt like this, and we’re done.” In the past, I would have been begging for her forgiveness. But now, I was just tired. I just wanted to finish my work. The code would have to be completely rewritten if this test failed. I nodded. “Mm. I get it. You can keep driving now.” I don’t know what it was about my calm response that set her off, but she screamed at me. “Get out!” I looked at her for a long moment, then grabbed my laptop and got out of the car. I didn’t want to fight. It wasn’t worth the risk of her getting road rage. The second I was out, she stomped on the gas and sped away. Watching her taillights disappear, I thought about the past. Her moods had always thrown me into a panic, making me question what I had done wrong, how I had upset her. I just wanted her to be happy, but with me, she was a storm of unpredictable emotions. I always assumed it was my fault and rushed to apologize. Not this time. I sat on the curb, my laptop open, trying to salvage my work. I pulled out my phone and called a car to take me to a five-star hotel. I booked the presidential suite.

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  • Once, I Kissed the Moon

    I was married to the city’s mafia heir for ten years. I endured blood and fire with him. My piano hands grew calloused from guns, stained with unforgivable sins. At 28, he became obsessed with a slum girl named Daisy. I discovered them at a prenatal clinic. “Daisy’s Catholic,” he said coldly, handing me divorce papers. “She needs my name. Sign this for 40% shares.” I refused. So he destroyed me—piece by piece. Finally, he strapped my paralyzed brother into a hydraulic press. “Sign,” he threatened, “or watch him crushed.” The machine roared. Blood and bone painted my nightmare. Then darkness swallowed me. I awoke back in that hospital hallway—before discovering them. This time, I vanished silently. But after I disappeared… he was the one who lost his mind. 1 I huddled behind the wall, my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle the tremors that wracked my body. The horrific image of my brother’s final moments was seared onto the inside of my eyelids. I could hear Adrian’s voice, soft and reassuring, as he spoke to Daisy. “Once your pregnancy is stable, we’ll get married.” Hearing those words a second time, I didn’t lose control. In my last life, I had stormed out, demanding answers. He, fearing Daisy would discover she was merely his kept woman, had shattered my jaw with the butt of his gun. The memory made me shrink further into the shadows. Adrian wrapped an arm around Daisy’s shoulders and led her away. Only when I was certain they were gone did I step out, clutching my own medical report, and walk into the doctor’s office. “Ms. Winston,” the doctor said gently, his eyes full of sympathy. “Your uterine wall is dangerously thin. If you terminate this pregnancy, you may never be able to conceive again.” I stared silently at the report in my hands. Two months pregnant. My mind flashed to the look in Adrian’s eyes as he’d pressed his ear to Daisy’s belly—a tenderness so profound it seemed to overflow. Ten years ago, I had drowned in that same gaze, abandoning a scholarship to Juilliard, abandoning my dreams of the concert stage, all for him. Step by step, the hands that once danced over ivory keys learned the cold weight of a gun, becoming accustomed to a life lived on a knife’s edge. But the moment Daisy appeared, all my sacrifices became a bitter joke. The doctor, seeing my silence, continued. “Ms. Winston, given your unique circumstances… does your husband know about this?” I looked up, meeting his gaze, my voice eerily calm. “My husband is dead.” An hour later, I stumbled out of the hospital, my face as white as the sterile walls, one hand braced against them for support. Once the color had returned to my lips, I pulled out my phone and called my brother’s caregiver. “Leo, I need you to arrange a transfer for my brother to a private facility in Switzerland this week. Be discreet. Mr. Winston is not to know anything about this. Absolute secrecy.” Next, I messaged my most trusted subordinate, asking him to draw up a set of divorce papers. Just as I finished, a file containing all of Daisy’s information arrived on my phone. In my past life, I had despised her so much I couldn’t even bear to look at her picture. Reborn, my heart was strangely peaceful. For the first time, I was curious about this woman who had so completely captivated Adrian, a man who had seen and discarded countless others. I opened the compressed file. A video popped up. Inside a dilapidated church, a young woman played “Dreaming of the Wedding” on an old, out-of-tune piano. Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, illuminating her faded dress. She looked as pure and fragile as a daisy after a spring rain. Adrian was visible in half-profile, a soft, mesmerized smile on his face. I slammed the pause button. And ran to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the toilet. It was too absurd. The woman he had fallen in love with… was the ghost of me from ten years ago. 2 Dusk was settling as I left the hospital. I drove in a daze, my mind a chaotic whirl. As I rounded a corner, an out-of-control truck suddenly barreled toward me. I wrenched the steering wheel, but it was too late. The world spun violently, and then there was only the screech of metal and shattering glass. I was pinned in the driver’s seat, unable to move. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. This was one of Adrian’s rivals, coming for revenge. My phone was smashed, useless. Just then, a familiar black Maybach glided past the intersection. It was Adrian’s car. “Adrian!” I screamed, my voice raw, struggling against the wreckage to catch his attention. The car slowed for a heart-stopping second. My breath caught in my throat. He saw me. He saw me! But in the next instant, the Maybach accelerated, pulling away from the intersection without a hint of hesitation. Through the window, I saw him raise a hand to shield Daisy’s eyes. The strength to scream again vanished. Daisy was in the car. He wouldn’t stop. The violence, the blood, the mangled steel of a revenge hit… he couldn’t bear for her to see it. The last of my adrenaline faded, and my consciousness began to flicker. When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at the stark white ceiling of a hospital room. The door was ajar. I could hear one of Adrian’s men speaking to him. “Sir, what if Mrs. Winston saw Miss Miller in the car? If she starts digging, I don’t think we can keep it from her.” I heard the hiss of a cigarette being extinguished, then crushed. “You don’t need to worry about that,” Adrian’s voice was cold. “Your only job is to protect Daisy.” “She’s too clean for our world. She’s not like us.” “Wendy… she plays dirty. Daisy is too innocent to stand a chance against her. If you have to, use her brother as leverage. The cripple is the only family she has left. She’ll have no choice but to back down.” My fingers clenched the thin hospital sheet, my teeth sinking into the soft flesh of my cheek until I tasted blood. The day he proposed, he had sworn to me, “I will always protect you, Wendy. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” The same vow of protection, the same words, but now they were for Daisy. And I, the woman he once shielded with his own body, had become the dangerous, dirty schemer in his story. Hearing footsteps approach, I closed my eyes, then slowly opened them as he entered. “You’re awake,” he said, his tone business-like. “I had my men look into it. It was the Wang family’s people.” He placed a document on my bedside table. “This is a settlement agreement. Sign it, and they’ve agreed to hand over the West Side territory.” He stood before me, our eyes meeting. I was speechless. My near-death experience had become a bargaining chip in his business. An icy chill spread through my chest. “Adrian, when did you decide this?” The moment you saw my car crash? Or the moment you knew the Wangs were coming for me? His brow furrowed, annoyed by my probing. I knew better than to press the issue. Forcing the truth would only hurt me. As if to placate me, Adrian worked from my hospital room for the next two days. He was always wearing his earbuds, a small, familiar smile occasionally gracing his lips. He was talking to her. While he was on a call with Daisy, I slid the divorce papers I’d had prepared in front of him. I thought he would notice. It was so obvious. But he didn’t even glance at the header. He flipped to the last page and scrawled his signature, his eyes never leaving his laptop screen. My hand trembled as I took the document back, staring at the still-wet ink of his name. Suddenly, I was back in the moment we first met, ten years ago. He was being hunted by his enemies, lying bloody and broken under a derelict iron bridge. He was only eighteen, but his eyes burned with the ferocious light of a wounded lion cub. I was on my way to piano practice, but one look into those eyes, and my heart broke for him. I turned and walked toward him. One step, and I had plunged into the abyss. Later, he took a bullet to the chest to protect me. He was in surgery for eighteen hours. That was the first time I understood that in his world, kindness and innocence were weaknesses that got you killed. In ten years, I transformed from a girl who trembled at the sight of blood into Mrs. Winston, the woman who handled his dirty work without flinching. I thought we had finally become equals, standing side-by-side. But to him, I had just become one of them. Just as tainted. I rubbed the calluses on my fingers, the ghosts of a thousand trigger pulls. I thought of Daisy at the piano. And suddenly, it all felt so pointless. The burning resentment, the gnawing injustice… it all dissolved into a vast, empty ache. After I was discharged, Adrian used a “business trip” as an excuse to be gone for the entire one-month divorce cooling-off period. But I never expected that I would be the one to see Daisy. 3 To pray for the soul of my lost child, I went to the old cathedral to ask a priest for a requiem mass. I wasn’t religious, but I hoped my baby could find its way to heaven. As I pushed open the heavy doors, I saw Daisy at the piano, accompanying the children’s choir. The final chord rang out, marred by a single, jarringly wrong note. On impulse, I walked over, reached out, and pressed the correct key. “It should be like this.” Our first real meeting was far calmer than I could have ever imagined. Daisy’s eyes lit up. “You know piano? I’ve been practicing for ages, but I always get that part wrong.” I offered a cool, distant smile, but she was unabashedly friendly, striking up a conversation. When she learned I was there for a lost child, she knelt before the statue of the Virgin Mary and prayed with a sincerity that stunned me. “Dear Lord, please welcome this pure soul into your kingdom, and bring comfort to his grieving mother.” I stared, lost in a trance. She was so much like the girl I used to be that it was disorienting. A strange sense of pity washed over me, a desperate urge to save my former self. Leave Adrian, I wanted to scream. Getting close to him is like embracing a curse. But my gaze fell to her swelling abdomen, and I sealed my lips. If Daisy knew about my relationship with Adrian, she would surely break up with him. And then, Adrian would hunt me down with a furious, vengeful rage. The bloody memories of my past life flooded my mind. I made the excuse of needing to confess and slipped into the confessional booth. I pulled up the security feed from my brother’s care facility, my heart only steadying when I saw him sitting peacefully, painting. After our parents died, he was all I had left. This time, I would never let him be dragged into my world with Adrian again. When I had composed myself and stepped out of the booth, the cold, black muzzle of a gun was pressed against my forehead. Every muscle in my body went rigid. I glanced toward Daisy. She was already slumped on the floor, unconscious. I cursed my luck under my breath. The next second, the butt of the gun slammed into my head, and the world went dark. I woke up in a derelict warehouse, tied back-to-back with Daisy. Her voice was choked with sobs. “We already paid you back! What more do you want? Adrian warned you…” A loud slap cut her off. The man leading them, a thick scar bisecting his eyebrow, grabbed her by the hair. “You paid the money, sure. But he broke three of our boss’s ribs for it. In our line of work, you don’t just let that go.” He sneered. “He treasures you, doesn’t he? Well, today, I’m going to enjoy breaking you, piece by piece.” So, they were low-level loan sharks. No wonder they didn’t recognize me. I took a few steadying breaths and popped the tiny blade out of the setting of my ring, beginning to saw at the ropes. I’d been tied up a few times before; I had some experience. Seeing that I was awake, the scar-faced man rifled through my Hermès wallet. “Well, Ms. Winston, looks like it’s your unlucky day. Three million. Call your family and have them wire the money.” Daisy turned her head, tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. But don’t be scared. My boyfriend is very powerful. He’ll come save us.” Her eyes shone with a blind, heroic worship of Adrian. My hands faltered for a second. I didn’t reply. Suddenly, Scarface cursed, holding up his phone. “That bastard. He doesn’t believe me. Looks like I’ll have to send him a little gift.” He threw a wicked-looking knife onto the floor between us. “Someone get over here. Cut the baby out of her and send it to him.”

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  • A Toast to Betrayal

    My prized, one-of-a-kind bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, valued at over three million dollars, showed up on Liam Carter’s Instagram feed. In the photo, the fresh-faced graduate assistant held up a glass, the caption a glaringly arrogant taunt: “Thanks for the love, Ms. Vance. The professor said this bottle could buy a condo downtown~” I sent a single text to my wife, Ava. “You have two hours to get that bottle back here. Or you’ll face the consequences.” Ava left me on read. Two hours later, I stared at my phone screen, my finger hovering over the “Report Crime” button for a full three seconds. A sudden commotion erupted at the charity gala I was monitoring remotely. Through the security feed, I watched as Liam Carter was slammed against a champagne tower by the police, expensive champagne soaking his borrowed designer suit. If they wouldn’t listen to reason, I’d have to teach them a lesson in a language they’d understand. 1 “Brendan Sterling! You called the cops on Liam?” Ava’s voice preceded her into the house, sharp and furious. Her Chanel handbag hit the entryway wall, the metal clasp leaving a dent. I didn’t even flinch. “Your two hours are up.” “He’s my assistant!” Ava kicked off her heels, her voice rising to a shriek. “He just got a letter of recommendation from his professor!” “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve ruined him!” “Brendan, how could you be so vicious?” “Grand larceny. The value exceeds three million,” I said, turning to face her, my expression calm. “Have you ever read the penal code, Ava?” Suddenly, she snatched the crystal decanter from the coffee table. The twelve-thousand-dollar piece of art shattered at my feet, red wine bleeding across my slippers like blood. “There are over three hundred bottles in our cellar. What’s the big deal if I give one to Liam?” Her nails dug into her palms. “His mentor is the chairman of the awards committee. Do you know how much effort I put in to—” “He’s just a kid from a small town, trying to make it in the city. I was just trying to help him.” “Brendan, when did you become so cold-hearted?” “Help him?” I let out a cold laugh. “Anyone who didn’t know better would think he was your lover. This city is flooded with small-town graduates every year. Life isn’t easy for any of them.” “If you’re so charitable, Ms. Vance, why don’t you sell off Vance Industries and start a foundation dedicated to helping small-town kids?” “You’re being unreasonable, Brendan.” My words left her speechless, her face flushing with anger. “Last year. On this day,” I said, ignoring her and pulling up a photo on my phone. “Our third wedding anniversary. I waited for you at Lakeside Grill for five hours. You were at his thesis defense, cheering him on.” A condescending smirk touched Ava’s lips. “Brendan, are you really jealous of that?” “It was Liam’s patent defense. I went to support him. It was just an anniversary, Brendan. We can celebrate it any year.” I was rendered speechless by her audacity. I swiped to the next photo. A Cartier box gleamed beside a celebratory cake. “For his patent party, you baked a cake and bought him a watch.” “For my birthday, you gave me expired grocery store coupons. Ava, tell me, who is your husband? Me, or Liam Carter?” “Do you need another watch?” Ava tilted her head back, her face a mask of impatience. “Brendan, you’re thirty years old. Are you going to squabble with a child?” “No,” I said, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I’m not going to squabble.” “That’s why I’m sending him straight to prison.” “Brendan!” Ava’s earrings danced as she breathed heavily. She grabbed her car keys. “I don’t have time to argue with you. I’m going to get him. My lawyer will talk to you tomorrow.” “A friendly reminder,” I said, toying with the business card of my contact at the police department. “If he gets out before sunrise, I will have to seriously reconsider whether our marriage has any future at all.” “Are you threatening me?” The doorframe trembled under her fist. “You’re the one who pushed it too far,” I said calmly. “I’ve tolerated your behavior time and time again, but you refuse to show any restraint.” “Fine. Just fine,” Ava roared. “Brendan, I am so disappointed in you.” With that, she stormed out of the house. 2 Ava didn’t come home that night. I had an early surgery the next day, so I went to bed without waiting for her. I woke up to a firestorm on social media. #VANCEINDUSTRIESCEOSECRETRENDEZVOUSWITHYOUNGLOVER The photos were crystal clear. Liam Carter, getting out of Ava’s Porsche. Another, even more damning photo showed Ava holding his hand as they walked into a hotel. The bitter irony was that the hotel was one of my family’s properties. A cold smile touched my lips. I dialed my lawyer. “Draft the divorce papers. Now.” My marriage to Ava was never a simple love match. It was a strategic alliance. I am the sole heir to the Sterling fortune. But I have no interest in business. My passion is medicine. I only ever wanted to be a doctor. After much negotiation with my parents, we agreed on a solution: I would marry a capable woman from a suitable family, and she would help me manage the Sterling empire. Our future children would one day inherit it. Ava was the chosen one. Though her family’s company, Vance Industries, was leagues below ours, I was drawn to her. She was smart, ambitious, and ruthless. Under her leadership, the market value of her family’s company had doubled in three years. When we married, everyone called it a power merger. Even I believed it. It’s why I tolerated so much of her drama with Liam Carter. But I draw the line at betrayal. Just then, my phone rang. It was Ava’s father. “Brendan, my boy, I saw the news. Don’t overthink it. It’s just tabloid nonsense, I’m sure.” “Ava, that girl… she can be stubborn, but she would never do something like cheating.” “Don’t worry. I’ll make her explain everything. I’ll make sure you get a proper explanation!” Two hours later, Ava’s parents dragged her through my door. Her face was a thunderous mask of rage. She stormed towards me, yelling, “Brendan Sterling! Did you plant that story in the press?” I sat on the sofa, not even bothering to look up. “What do you think?” “You’re despicable!” Her face contorted with a hysterical fury. “Is this how you get what you want, Brendan? By stooping to these disgusting tactics?” She lunged for the ashtray on the coffee table and hurled it at me. It grazed my forehead and shattered against the wall behind me. Her father’s face went pale with shock. He slapped her, hard. “Are you insane? Brendan is your husband! What is wrong with you?” Ava clutched her cheek, staring at her father in disbelief. “Dad, you hit me? This is his—” Her eyes welled with tears. I shot them a cold glance and stood up. “Let’s not make this more complicated than it needs to be. Just sign the papers.” As if on cue, the doorbell rang. My lawyer stood on the doorstep, holding a folder. “Mr. Sterling, the divorce agreement is ready.” Ava’s head snapped towards me, her eyes wide with shock. “Divorce agreement? Brendan, you want to divorce me?” I took the papers and tossed them onto the coffee table. “Sign.” 3 Ava stared at the divorce papers, her fingers trembling. “I won’t sign.” She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. “Brendan, it was just one stupid bottle of wine. You’re going to divorce me over a bottle of wine?” “If you’re angry, I’ll pay you back. I’ll buy you ten bottles, twenty! Just… let’s not get a divorce, okay?” I looked at her tear-streaked face, and for the first time, felt nothing. “Ava, that bottle was one-of-a-kind. It was a gift from my parents for my doctoral graduation.” “I told you the story behind it.” Besides medicine, I have one other passion: winemaking. And that bottle was the final creation of my favorite master vintner. There would never be another one like it in the world. I had told Ava this in our first year of marriage, explicitly warning her never to touch it. “Brendan, I’m sorry.” Ava’s face went rigid. “I… I really messed up.” “I know I was wrong. Please, just forgive me this one time?” Her voice was low, laced with a desperation I’d never heard before. Her father quickly jumped in. “Brendan, Ava was just being foolish.” “You two are still young. Every couple has their disagreements. You make up and move on. Just give her another chance. She’ll learn her lesson this time, I promise.” I let out a cold laugh. “You think a simple ‘I’m sorry’ can erase everything you’ve done?” “Don’t worry, Brendan, we’ll deal with that Liam Carter situation too,” her father added, shooting Ava a pointed look. Ava caught his cue and grabbed my hand. “I’ll transfer Liam to a branch office immediately. I’ll never see him again.” “Brendan, let’s not get a divorce. Please?” Her tears fell onto the back of my hand, her grief genuine. My resolve softened. “This is the last time.” Seeing me relent, Ava wiped her face and immediately called her company’s HR department. Right in front of me, she arranged for Liam to be transferred. For the next two weeks, Ava was a changed woman. She came home on time every day, tying on an apron to busy herself in the kitchen. “Try this,” she said, placing a piece of sweet and sour pork in my bowl. “I spent all afternoon learning how to make it.” I looked up at her. There was a smudge of flour on her forehead, and her eyes were filled with a cautious hope. “It’s good,” I said, and went back to eating. When I was on call at the hospital over the weekend, she showed up with an insulated lunch box. “Dr. Sterling, your wife is here again?” a nurse teased. Ava laid out the food and handed me a freshly brewed coffee. “Your stomach is sensitive. Don’t drink that instant stuff from the hospital,” she said softly. I watched her bustling around, and the divorce papers in my desk drawer began to gather dust. 4 Life returned to normal, and my career quietly reached a new milestone. I was selected to join a team of experts for an international medical conference abroad. It was a huge opportunity. When I told Ava, she was supportive, helping me pack. On the last day of the conference, I received a shocking text message. It was from the head nurse of the cardiology department at my hospital. Nurse Davis: Dr. Sterling, could you please talk to your mother? She’s being very difficult with the on-duty nurses. Nurse Davis: Our department is already swamped, and most of our patients are elderly. The staff can’t dedicate all their time to just one person. You’re a doctor, you understand. Please, ask her to be more considerate. I froze. I hadn’t heard anything about my mother being hospitalized. And my mother was the sweetest woman alive; she would never harass a nurse. Confused, I called home. “Mom, are you in the hospital?” “Nonsense!” Her voice was as vibrant as ever. “I’m in the Maldives, scuba diving!” After hanging up, I texted Nurse Davis back. Brendan: Nurse Davis, my mother isn’t in the hospital. There must be some mistake. Nurse Davis: Dr. Sterling, your wife brought her in personally. She brought you lunch several times, we’ve all seen her. There’s no mistake. A moment later, she sent a short video. A woman with permed hair was jabbing her finger in a young nurse’s face. “My daughter-in-law is the CEO of Vance Industries! You dare to give me substandard care? Believe it or not, she’ll buy this hospital and turn it into a public toilet!” “You nurses are just modern-day servants! What’s wrong with washing my underwear for me? My daughter-in-law paid for the VIP package! That means you serve me! You do whatever I say!” I zoomed in on the video. I didn’t recognize the woman’s sharp, cruel face at all. Alarmed and bewildered, I couldn’t wait for my colleagues. I booked a flight home the same day the conference ended. As soon as I landed, I went straight to the hospital. The old woman was in the VIP room, cracking sunflower seeds, the shells littered all over the floor. “Ma’am,” I said, stepping in front of a furious Nurse Davis. “You said your daughter-in-law is Ava Vance, the CEO of Vance Industries. What is your relationship to her?” “She’s my daughter-in-law!” the woman spat, sunflower seed shells flying from her lips. “And my son is—” I held up my marriage certificate. “What a coincidence. My wife is also named Ava Vance, and she’s also the CEO of Vance Industries.” “I just wasn’t aware that my wife had a second mother-in-law. Or that I had a second mother.” The room went silent. The sunflower seeds scattered from the woman’s lap. “You… you’re Brendan—” “So you do know me,” I said, picking up the nameplate from her bedside table. “Mrs. Miller. And what’s your son’s name?” She suddenly snatched the call bell and threw it at me. “None of your damn business! My son is ten times the man you are!” I sidestepped the projectile and nodded to Nurse Davis. “Call security. And the police. Report it as medical fraud.” The police arrived quickly. As Mrs. Miller was throwing a tantrum on the floor, her son burst into the room. White shirt, gold-rimmed glasses, and a tie that I recognized as one I’d thrown out last year. Liam Carter. “Dr. Sterling?” His face went pale. “You… you’re not supposed to be back yet. When did you get here?” I smiled. “Thanks to you and your mother, I just arrived.” Ava was truly something else. So much for sending Liam to a branch office. This was what she had planned all along. My phone rang. It was a voice message from Ava. “Brendan, send me your flight number. I’ll come pick you up…” I hit the record button on my phone. “No need. Just come straight to VIP room 3 at my hospital.” “And thank you so much for the wonderful surprise.” There was a distinct pause on the other end of the line. “Brendan,” she said, her voice tight. “You know.”

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  • Beg for My Scalpel

    1 My sister was ambushed during a supply run. Her pulmonary artery was ruptured. As she was being airlifted to the military hospital for emergency surgery, I was at the firing range, practicing with my sidearm. My movements were clean, precise. Thirty seconds later, my fiancé, Jack, kicked open the blast-proof door. “Aria,” he roared, his voice thick with fury, “your sister is dying! You’re the only one who can save her. Every senior officer is waiting for you outside! You can’t just let her die.” I knew I was the only one who could perform the complex microvascular suture required. But all I said was a cool, “Oh,” as I reloaded my magazine. My parents, both high-ranking political commissars, burst in next. My father’s fist slammed into my right hand. “That’s your sister! She saved your life! How can you stand there and do nothing? Are you even human?” I shoved them away, revealing the horrifying scar on my right forearm. This hand, which had saved countless lives on the battlefield, was now twitching uncontrollably. “What a shame,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “My physical this morning revealed I’ve been exposed to a neurotoxin.” “This hand is useless now.” The once-noisy firing range fell silent. Three pairs of eyes were fixed on my right hand. The hand that had performed countless impossible surgeries, the hand once hailed as the “Hand of God” in the field hospital. Now, it was just a grotesque, trembling mess, a public declaration of my fall from grace. Jack was the first to recover. He shook his head in disbelief. “Aria, stop the act. You were fine yesterday. How could your hand just be ‘useless’ today?” I held my hand out to him, my voice like ice. “Perhaps fate has decided it’s time for Aurora to die.” Jack was speechless with rage. My mother rushed forward, clutching my hand, her voice a desperate plea. “Aria, are you still jealous of your sister?” “Please, Mom is begging you. Just this one surgery. Where would you be without her?” I lifted my head, my eyes as dead as a winter sky. When we were kids at a military summer camp, I somehow fell into a river. It was my sister, Aurora, who jumped in and saved me. To show their gratitude, my parents, who had always wanted another child, adopted Aurora, an orphan. From that day on, everything I had, Aurora had too. I knew it was fair. Aurora was better than me at everything. She was a more fitting daughter for my parents. Crucially, she was more promising. We both tried out for the new recruits program. I was disqualified because I got a stomach bug. My parents had always dreamed of me becoming a general, leading troops into battle. I failed to live up to their expectations. Aurora succeeded. And so, the scales of their love began to tip. My mother always said Aurora needed more nourishment for the battlefield, so all the best food, the best of everything, went to her. I knew, and I nodded silently. It’s only right. If I couldn’t be a soldier on the front lines, I would be their support from the rear. I became the most skilled surgeon in the military. But in my parents’ eyes, I was still second best… Faced with my mother’s accusations, I said nothing, continuing to load my pistol. My father’s anger boiled over. He slapped me across the face. It was the first time my father had ever hit me. I never knew his hand could hurt so much. “Aria, has your conscience been eaten by a dog? Even if she isn’t your biological sister, she’s lived with you for so long.” “Think about it! Aurora has always been the one taking care of you!” The past flooded my mind, each memory a blow to my heart. Still, I remained silent. I raised my pistol and pulled the trigger. My mother couldn’t take it anymore. All her commissar’s authority vanished. She lunged at me like any other frantic woman, pounding on my chest. It was the first time I had ever seen her lose control like this. Not even when I was held hostage by enemy combatants had she looked so distraught. “Aria, I’m begging you. Just do this one surgery. Do you really want me to get on my knees and beg?” “Or at least go take a look! See if there’s another way to save her!” My father stepped forward. “The fact that you’re still here practicing your shooting tells me it’s not that serious. Get to the operating room, now.” “Even if your hand is crippled, you will finish this surgery before it’s crippled for good!” Click. A bullet missed the target completely. Zero points. A mocking smile spread across my face. “Are you sure? If Aurora dies on my operating table, whose fault will it be?” 2 The three of them stared at me, their eyes filled with disappointment. My mother shrieked, out of control. “What do you mean by that? Are you planning to kill her during the surgery?” I just smiled without a word. “You’re insane!” The clock was ticking. The golden window for a pulmonary artery repair was forty-five minutes. After that, not even a god could bring her back. Just then, Jack stepped forward. “Uncle, Auntie,” he said, his voice firm. “Let me do the surgery.” “Aria and I graduated from the same medical academy. My skills aren’t that far behind hers. And I’ve been her assistant on all her major surgeries. I know the procedure inside and out.” My parents hesitated. This was their favorite daughter’s life on the line. Jack took my mother’s hand. “Auntie, I know my skills aren’t quite there yet. But with the help of Aria’s robotic arm, I know I can do it.” My heart skipped a beat. I had been developing that robotic surgical assistant for five years. It was designed to guide delicate procedures like vascular sutures with unparalleled precision. The success rate was already at seventy percent. My parents’ faces lit up, but they were still apprehensive. “But it’s just a machine. Can it really be more flexible than a human hand?” “It will be fine,” Jack insisted. “As long as I have a few assistants, I’m confident I can complete the surgery.” Just then, a dozen doctors crowded in from the doorway, all volunteering to assist. This was the commissar’s daughter. Saving her would mean commendations, promotions—a golden opportunity. I turned to look at them. These were the same doctors who had once sworn to follow me forever. My parents finally relaxed, gripping Jack’s hand with gratitude. “Thank you, Jack, thank you so much. After the surgery, I will personally write a recommendation to your commanding officer. I’ll make you the youngest specialist in the military.” That was my dream. “Wait,” I said, my voice cutting through their celebration. “You’re planning to use my robotic arm. Have you received my authorization?” Jack stared at me, incredulous. “Aria, have you lost your mind? You’re worried about authorization at a time like this?” 3 “That is my intellectual property. Why should I let you use it for free? Just because you’re my boyfriend?” Shame and anger warred on Jack’s face. He glared at me, his eyes burning with hatred. “Unless,” I said, my voice dangerously soft, “you give me the villa that’s under my parents’ name. Then, I might consider it.” My parents were trembling with rage. My father raised his hand and slapped me again. I just smiled. “A million dollars a slap. Otherwise, don’t even think about getting my authorization.” My father’s hand trembled, but he didn’t strike again. “You monstrous child!” he choked out. “Using your sister’s life to blackmail us for money! Are you even human? That villa was meant to be your sister’s dowry!” I said nothing, just tapped my watch, reminding them that time was running out. A few seconds later, my father finally nodded. I pulled out a pen and paper and had them write and sign a transfer certificate on the spot. I sent it off to be officially stamped. Otherwise, I would never agree. Only when I saw the officially sealed document did I nod in satisfaction. “You have my permission. I hope you can operate the robotic arm successfully.” In reality, the arm was still a prototype. The most critical component was still the lead surgeon. Jack looked at me with open contempt. My parents just shook their heads, their eyes full of disgust. The other doctors whispered and pointed at me. I held the document, my head high, and walked out of the firing range. I went home and started packing, removing every trace of myself from the house and moving into the villa. The carnations my grandmother loved, which she had planted by the door, were dead. But that was okay. I would fix that. The surgery lasted nearly four hours. Everyone in the field hospital was on edge. The entrance was swarmed with media. My phone was blowing up. Everyone was calling me a cold-blooded monster, a woman who would trade her sister’s life for money. I ignored it all, simply arranging the carnations I had brought with me. Finally, six hours later, the operating room doors opened. Jack announced that the surgery was a success. A roar of celebration erupted through the hospital. The media descended on Jack. The consensus was clear: the title of the best surgeon in the field hospital had a new owner. Jack was being hailed as the new “Hand of God.” In front of the cameras, Jack passionately recounted the details of the surgery. He announced that he would work to get the robotic arm into hospitals everywhere, for the benefit of all. “A doctor’s duty is to save lives. What Aria refuses to do, I will do in her place!” Soon, medical device corporations were lining up, all vying for exclusive rights. Jack eventually chose to partner with the Horizon Group. Overnight, Jack’s name became a household word. And I became a pariah, a rat crawling in the mud. Looking at the message from my father on my phone, I knew it was time for my judgment. 4 A few days later, a military vehicle pulled up in front of the villa. I gathered everything I had prepared and said goodbye to my grandmother’s portrait by the door. “Grandma, wait for me. I’ll be back soon.” I calmly got into the vehicle. At the military tribunal, every eye was fixed on me, burning with anger. My parents looked like they wanted to devour me whole. The judge banged the gavel. “Aria Sterling, the tribunal accuses you of dereliction of duty and violating the military physician’s code by refusing to render aid. Do you have anything to say?” I slowly raised my head and said, word by word, “I do not accept the charge.” The courtroom erupted. Accusations flew from every direction. If it weren’t for the bailiffs, my parents would have torn me to shreds. “Aria, we all saw you refuse to help! We saw you extort your own family! How dare you plead not guilty!” Jack stared at me with disgust. “Aria, if you have any shred of conscience, you’ll confess. If I hadn’t performed that surgery, your sister would be dead right now!” I looked at them, my eyes lifeless. “But she’s not dead, is she?” The entire courtroom gasped. Camera flashes exploded around me, the media desperate to capture the face of this villain. No matter what the judge asked, my only answer was, “I do not accept.” Just as they were at a loss, the doors opened. Aurora was wheeled in, looking incredibly frail. Even with a successful surgery, she would never recover her full strength. Her dream of being a general was over. “Your Honor, Mom, Dad,” she said, her voice weak but clear. “If my sister won’t admit to abandoning me, will she at least admit to treason?” Every eye in the room swiveled back to me. Aurora’s voice rose with emotion. “I was ambushed because someone leaked our operational plans. And that person was Aria!” “She couldn’t stand that I, an orphan, received all of our parents’ love, so she decided to destroy me!” “But you didn’t expect me to survive, did you, Aria? Now, I’m going to expose your vicious true colors!” Aurora presented her evidence: security footage of me in her office the night before the supply run. I had stood by her desk for a full five minutes. “My entire operational plan was on that desk. If Aria hadn’t betrayed me, how could we have possibly been ambushed?” The anger in the courtroom intensified. If looks could kill, I would have been dead a thousand times over. But I remained expressionless, listening to her accusations. “Aria, I’ve always treated you like my own sister. Why would you do this to me?” “Bullying me at home was one thing, but how could you do something like this?” My parents rushed to comfort Aurora, cradling her like a precious treasure. “What? Aria has been bullying you?” Aurora nodded, a look of profound pain on her face. “She believes I don’t belong in this family. She would often put things in my food to make me disoriented. I almost fainted on the battlefield several times.” “Aria, you’re not human!” My father’s roar nearly shattered my eardrums. Forgetting where he was, he actually pulled out his service weapon and aimed it at me. Just as he was about to fire, the doors burst open again. Several men in higher-ranking uniforms entered. “Good afternoon. We are from the Central Military Commission. We’ve received a report that Captain Aurora Sterling violated protocol in her mission planning, resulting in the deaths of six soldiers. We are here to investigate. Who filed the report?” I smiled and raised my hand. “I did.”

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  • My Sister Loves Me Too Much

    I had leukemia, but I was lucky. Both my father and my sister were a perfect match for a bone marrow transplant. My sister, ignoring everyone’s protests, insisted on terminating her five-month-old twin pregnancy to donate to me. “Dad’s too old,” she’d said. “His body can’t take it.” When my brother-in-law, working out of town, found out, he drove through the night to confront her. He never made it. A car crash left him sterile. Desperate and broken, he blamed me for everything. “It’s all your fault! I can never be a father now!” he screamed, before plunging a knife into me over and over again. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. My sister was holding me, her voice thick with emotion. “Don’t you worry, Phoebe. We’re sisters. I’m sure we’ll be a match.” 1 “Phoebe, don’t be scared. Your big sister will save you, even if it costs me my life.” Looking at my sister’s tear-swollen eyes and face etched with concern, I trembled with fear. The life she was willing to sacrifice was mine. The phantom terror of a dozen stab wounds made me shove her away instinctively. “No!” I screamed. She staggered back, and my father had to catch her to keep her from falling. He looked at me, hesitant. “Phoebe, I know you’re scared, but your sister is pregnant. You can’t…” The room full of relatives stared at me, their gazes branding me an ungrateful child. I didn’t have time to explain. The most important thing was to stop my sister from getting tested. “Hannah, you can’t do this!” I pleaded. “You have two babies inside you! Even if you are a match, I won’t take your marrow. It’s better not to even get tested.” My desperation was plain for all to see. They mistook it for selfless concern for my sister and her unborn children, murmuring about the depth of our bond. They began to try and persuade her on my behalf. “Hannah, your sister is right. You’re precious right now, too. Don’t be impulsive.” “Exactly! There are so many of us here. I’m sure someone will be a match. We don’t need you to do this.” “And you’re so close to your due date. Even if no one else is a match, we can wait until after you give birth.” I nodded frantically in agreement. But their words only seemed to strengthen her resolve. “Before Mom died, she made me promise to take care of Phoebe. Now that she’s sick, how can I, her older sister, hide behind everyone else?” “Don’t try to stop me. In my heart, my sister is the most important person in the world. It’s not just my children—if it meant my life, I’d give it willingly!” And with that, she marched out of the room to find the doctor. This time, my tears were real. “Hannah!” 2 The truth was, my dad was already a confirmed match. The doctors had said he was in excellent health and a perfect donor. So I truly couldn’t understand why Hannah was so insistent, to the point of sacrificing her own unborn children. Her love was overwhelming, moving even, but it was a weight I couldn’t bear. I didn’t want to die. There was only one person left who had the right to stop her: her husband, Marcus, the man who had killed me in my past life. Marcus had been transferred out of state for a year-long project. He had six months left before he was due back. Fighting back my terror, I called him and laid everything bare. “Marcus, I swear, I will never take Hannah’s marrow. But I can’t convince her. You have to come back!” He was there the next day. He pleaded with my sister, his voice gentle. “Honey, let me get tested. I’ll donate to Phoebe, okay?” Hannah just shook her head. “You’re not related to Phoebe by blood. The chances of a match are almost zero.” Despite this, Marcus went for the tests anyway. The results came back three days later. As expected, he wasn’t a match. But Hannah was. Marcus’s face was grim. “Hannah, I do not approve of this.” Her reaction was explosive. “Marcus, what are you saying? You want me to just stand by and watch my own sister die?” “I never said that!” he retorted. “But you have to think about our children! They’re already moving. In a few months, they’ll be born!” “After the babies are here, you can do whatever you want. I won’t stop you!” “But my sister has leukemia,” Hannah sobbed. “It’s not a common cold!” “What if her condition suddenly gets worse? Can you guarantee that won’t happen?” Marcus was speechless. How could he possibly guarantee something like that? His face darkened. “All I know is, I don’t agree.” Suddenly, Hannah snatched a fruit knife from the bedside table. “No one is going to stop me from saving my sister!” she shrieked. “Or I’ll kill them right now!” 3 Everyone froze. Marcus went pale with fright, practically falling to his knees. “Honey, please, don’t do anything rash!” he begged. “Then don’t force me!” Hannah screamed, pressing the knife against her own pregnant belly. The tip pierced her skin, and a bead of blood welled up. Gasps of horror filled the room. Watching my sister’s frantic state, I was stunned. A chilling doubt crept into my mind. Could anyone truly value their sister more than their own children? But I quickly pushed the thought away. Phoebe, you can doubt yourself, but you can’t doubt your sister. When I was born, Hannah was only three. But unlike most older siblings, she had adored me. She fought with the adults to take care of me. She learned how to mix my formula and change my diapers before she even knew how to dress herself properly. When we started school, she was the one who stood up for me, fighting boys bigger than her. She still has a two-inch scar on her arm from one of those fights. After our mother passed away, she became a mother to me. She gave me everything she could. She wore ten-dollar t-shirts from discount websites but bought me fifty-dollar dresses from department stores. Before she got married, she insisted on giving me all her savings, a decision that earned her endless grief from Marcus’s family. Tears welled in my eyes at the memories. Yes, I had died in the last life, but it wasn’t Hannah’s fault. She couldn’t have predicted that Marcus would lose his fertility in a car crash. The one who killed me was Marcus. The blame could never fall on her. She just loved me too much. She was willing to do anything to save me, even at the cost of her own children. In the last life, everyone’s ending was a tragedy. Since fate had given me a second chance, I swore to myself that I would change our destiny. Right now, I had to stop her before she did something irreversible. Seeing everyone’s attention fixed on Hannah, I quietly slipped over to the window, opened it, and climbed out onto the ledge. I straddled the sill, gripping the frame tightly to keep from falling. Then I shouted, “Hannah!” “I don’t want your marrow! If you don’t stop, I’ll jump right now!” To make my point, I shifted my body further out. We were on the twenty-first floor. The room erupted in pure panic. “I know you’re both good kids,” my father’s voice trembled. “Let’s just talk this through.” I ignored him, my eyes locked on my sister. “Hannah, promise me. Promise you won’t do anything to hurt yourself or the babies. Or I’ll jump.” “I mean it!” Finally, she dropped the knife. “Okay,” she sobbed. “I promise.” 4 The cut on Hannah’s stomach was superficial. The doctor disinfected it and put on a bandage. What followed was a thorough scolding. My dad apologized profusely to the doctor, bowing and promising up and down that he would watch us and it would never happen again. Seeing my dad so flustered, Hannah and I caught each other’s eye and couldn’t help but laugh. That just set the doctor off on another tirade, this time aimed at us. It was understandable. Hospital windows are usually sealed shut. But the one in my room was broken, discovered that morning during ventilation. The nurse had reported it and was told a maintenance worker was on their way. Who could have guessed that in that short window, someone would threaten to jump? Hannah and I quickly bowed our heads and admitted our fault. Once things calmed down, I was still worried. I pulled my dad aside to talk to Marcus. “Do you think Hannah might have prenatal depression?” I elaborated on my concerns. “She’s always been anxious about me, but never this… obsessive.” My dad was worried too. “You’re right. Hannah used to be so easygoing and reasonable. This isn’t like her at all.” Marcus considered it. “It’s possible,” he admitted. “She’s carrying twins, which is harder than a normal pregnancy. And with me being out of town, I can’t even be there for her. She has to go to all her checkups alone.” “Her morning sickness has been terrible, too. She can’t keep anything down.” The more he spoke, the more guilt-ridden he became. “It’s all my fault.” My dad and I felt a pang of guilt as well. With my illness, we hadn’t been paying enough attention to her. Marcus decided to take Hannah to see a psychiatrist. The diagnosis confirmed our suspicions: mild depression. While we were worried for her, a sense of relief washed over us. There was a reason for her behavior. She was sick. Marcus’s year-long assignment came with a promotion, but he contacted his company and arranged to be transferred back early. His career could wait. If something happened to his wife and children, he would regret it for the rest of his life. Hannah started seeing a therapist regularly, and after a while, her condition improved significantly. When the doctors recommended that my dad be the donor, her reaction was perfectly normal. She focused on how to best care for both of us and never mentioned donating her own marrow again. The transplant was scheduled for two weeks later. My dad began a strict regimen of early nights, balanced meals, and daily exercise to get his body in peak condition. I was moved into a sterile isolation room to begin pre-transplant chemotherapy. The side effects left me weak and unable to sleep well. One night, I woke up in the dead of night. The door to my room creaked open. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. My body was frozen, paralyzed. I could only watch in horror as a figure approached my bed, raised a knife high, and plunged it towards me. 5 I shot up in bed, gasping. The room was empty. I looked down at myself. My clothes were intact. I ran my hands over my body. No wounds, no blood. I let out a breath, telling myself it was just a dream. But I couldn’t fall back asleep. I lay awake until the first light of dawn, finally drifting off into a fitful slumber. The next day, I was on edge, a constant feeling of dread churning in my stomach. It wasn’t until visiting hours, when my dad came to see me, that it hit me. “Dad, where’s Hannah? Why didn’t she come?” He smiled. “She called. She has a prenatal checkup today, so she’s not coming. She’ll see you tomorrow.” I tried to suppress the unease rising in my chest. “Dad, Marcus isn’t here. Can you go check on her? I’m fine here.” He agreed immediately. After he left, I called Hannah, but the phone just rang and rang. The anxiety intensified. Fifteen minutes later, my dad called back. “Phoebe, I’m at the obstetrics department on the second floor. I don’t see your sister. She probably finished her checkup and went home.” My heart sank. “Dad, go to her apartment. I just called her, and she didn’t pick up.” “Maybe she just didn’t hear it. Don’t worry, I’ll try calling her again in a bit.” Seeing that he didn’t grasp the severity of the situation, I reminded him, “Dad, don’t forget. She has depression.” He immediately grew tense. It was just as I feared. He went to her apartment, but no one answered the door. A neighbor said they saw her leave early that morning. I contacted her friends, classmates, and colleagues. My dad went to every place she might have gone. But there was no sign of her. The dream from the night before came rushing back, and a chill went down my spine. “Dad, we have to tell Marcus.” “And… call the police.” The police, understanding that three lives were at stake, took the matter very seriously. They were efficient. Using surveillance footage, they quickly tracked her down. She had gone to another hospital in the city. And she had an appointment for an abortion. The procedure was scheduled for today. I froze. The question I had so desperately tried to suppress resurfaced with a vengeance. Did my sister really love me at all?

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  • In This Horror Game, I’m a Woman on a Mission

    I dive into the horror game, and my inner perv goes wild. I snatch the whip from the final boss, strip him down, and tie him up. The next second, I’m on the floor, convulsing from a system-inflicted electric shock. System: 【Hey there! Watch an ad to unlock this scene, hon!】 I wipe the blood from my nose and swipe my credit card to skip. When I come to, the boss has me pinned beneath him. His fingers trace the lines of my trembling body, a souvenir from the electric shock. His eyes darken. “Does this get you zapped, too?” With every soft kiss he plants on my skin, a fresh jolt of electricity courses through me. My screams are swallowed by his lips. Numb and overwhelmed, I try to crawl away, sobbing. He yanks me back, his expression unreadable. “Where are you going? It’s not like I’m going to eat you.” 1. 【Player Kira has logged in. The system will now match you with other players.】 【Estimated time: 5 seconds.】 … After escaping the Rose Hotel, I was transported back to the real world. Under the rose bush in my yard, my brother’s body was gone. In its place was a quivering, dark, gooey substance. It was Corby, the strange creature I’d accidentally befriended in the last game. I can’t believe he followed me back to reality. Does this mean… I can bring my brother out of the game, too? Every day, I waited eagerly for the next horror instance to begin. But to my disappointment, I couldn’t get back in. Just as I was sinking into despair, a month later, an anonymous package arrived. Inside the box was a complete virtual reality setup, technology far beyond anything I’d ever seen. There was also a silver card with a single question etched onto it: 【Are you willing to step through the door of terror once more?】 2. 【Ding—】 【Player matching successful.】 【Welcome to the game instance: Phantom Penitentiary.】 【Victory Condition—】 【Help the protagonist clear their name.】 The cold, electronic voice echoed in my ears again. I opened my eyes. The familiar training grounds were gone, replaced by a bare, empty room. The system’s final words resonated around me: 【Inmate 0371, has entered the facility.】 Well, then. The good news: I’m not the protagonist this time. The bad news: I’m locked up in a high-security prison. The realization that I was a prisoner hit me, and I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. No wonder it took a month for me to get another chance to enter the game. The damn system was serving me a shit sandwich. The room was pitch-black, the only light coming from the faint glow of the electronic bracelet on my wrist. I used its weak luminescence to feel my way around the dark. Unfortunately, besides the cot I was lying on, the room was completely empty. As I fumbled my way towards the door, the long-lost live commentary reappeared: 【OMG! No way! Kira is back online! I thought she was a glitch, a staff mistake!】 【Yeah! I was so sad when I heard we wouldn’t see her play again. But I don’t get it. If she didn’t commit a crime, why would she come back? This isn’t a joke. You can actually die in these games!】 【Are you stupid? Her brother is in here! They’re so in love, and he’s so hot. If it were me, I’d come back for him in a heartbeat.】 【If I remember correctly, her brother is Silas, right? Silas killed Kira, that’s why he’s trapped in the horror game. Are you sure they’re ‘in love’?】 【I don’t care! Silas was definitely framed! When they left the last game, the way he looked at her… that wasn’t a brother looking at his sister. That was the look of a man who wanted to crush her, to devour her piece by piece!】 【Is he a Power Ranger? What do you mean he ‘glows’? You trying to get yourself killed with takes like that?】 … From a dark corner of the cell, a wet, slick sound slithered across the wall. My body jolted. I spun around, staring into the darkness where the sound had come from. Strangely, there was nothing there. “Corby?” I called out tentatively. Still no response. Weird. Was I imagining things? I could have sworn I smelled rust. Knowing he was hiding from me, I sighed and lay back down on the bed, closing my eyes to rest. The moment I did, I felt a tickling sensation on my face, like something was poking me. I suppressed a smirk. I kept my eyes closed, waiting for ‘him’ to let his guard down before slowly peeling one eyelid open. In the darkness, a monster was hanging upside-down from the ceiling, its single eyeball emitting a cold, eerie glow as it watched my every move. Seeing it, the tension in my body eased slightly. It was hard to see, but the single eye and the foul stench… it had to be Corby. His eye was a deep, shimmering black, just staring at me blankly. He looked so docile, it made my heart itch. I couldn’t resist anymore. I opened my eyes fully and cupped his face. “Aww, Corby, you’re so cute! Mommy’s gonna give you a big kiss!” “Corby, Mommy missed you so much!” “You’re such a good boy. I knew you’d find a way to come in with me.” Ever since I found out Corby was… created from the flesh and blood of my brother and me, I’d forced him to call me Mommy. The live comments erupted in agony: 【Sisters, you carry on. I’m just gonna go throw up for a minute.】 【I told you she has a thing for ugly creatures. She can even bring herself to kiss that hideous face.】 【I’m crying, she’s so dedicated. No wonder her popularity on TerrorStream is through the roof. The producers even spent a fortune to give her a dedicated camera angle, something usually reserved for the main protagonist. She deserves it.】 He’s not a hideous monster. He’s my precious baby. Our big, beautiful boy. As if startled by my sudden movement, a flicker of panic crossed ‘his’ eye. In a flash, ‘he’ vanished back into the darkness, thinking he was well-hidden, curled up silently in a corner. He even squeezed his eye shut, as if that would make him invisible. I was speechless. After a moment of silence, I walked over to him. The closer I got, the more that familiar, pungent odor filled my nostrils. It was sharp, but strangely comforting. I breathed a sigh of relief. It really was Corby. His long, dark hair brushed against my fingertips, tickling me. I curled my fingers, wrapping a strand of his hair around them and giving it a gentle tug. “Corby?” I smiled. The single eye remained tightly shut. I feigned anger and poked his eyelid. “Why aren’t you talking? Cat got your tongue?” Startled by the sudden touch, Corby flinched. Seeing him about to bolt, I quickly yanked him down from the ceiling and gave ‘him’ a massive hug, nuzzling my face into ‘his’ chest. “Where are you going? It’s not like I’m going to eat you.” I closed my eyes, overcome with maternal affection. It hadn’t even been half a day, but I’d missed him terribly. I patted him here and there. Feeling his arms and legs, a question popped into my head. “Corby, why are your arms so thick? Did you sneak some snacks after I left?” “And look at these legs! And this waist is huge!” “Also, didn’t I tell you to take a bath every day? Why do you still smell so much like blood?” I nagged like a mother hen, my confusion growing. I’d only been gone for half a day. How did he grow into such a behemoth? He was a whole size bigger. I was truly baffled. “Wait, since when do you have abs? Do you monsters work out now?” “And… why are you hiding a club…” My hand froze. I didn’t dare explore any further. I could feel the ‘club’ in my palm growing larger. A horrible realization dawned on me. My smile stiffened. I swallowed hard, not daring to move. “Um… Corby… is that you?” I asked hesitantly. “Are you talking to me?” From above my head, a voice, deep and raspy like a broken machine, grated out. If I had any doubts before, they were gone now. The moment the monster spoke, I was certain. This wasn’t Corby at all! This was a man’s voice! There were only two of us in here. Who else could it be?! And how did he manage to stay silent for so long?! A chill ran down my spine. I stiffly craned my neck to look up at him. The monster’s eyeball was glowing brighter now, casting a sinister, cold light. Just then, my bracelet must have brushed against something, because it lit up, illuminating his entire face. Let’s just say he was even more of a visual train wreck than Corby. Far more. Matted hair, a face of mangled flesh, and a dark red slime dripping from his body. I never thought I’d find a monster uglier than Corby. 3. A single, explosive “Holy shit!” escaped my lips. I scrambled back, yanking my hands away and pushing off him, my back hitting the far wall. I shuddered, biting my tongue hard to suppress the bile rising in my throat. I wanted to claw a hole in the wall and disappear. I frantically wiped the hand that had touched him on my clothes, forcing myself to picture my brother’s face just to keep from vomiting. The monster’s single eye darkened. After a long pause, he spoke, his voice a low rumble. “Disgusted?” Being stared at with such ‘intensity,’ I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “No, no, no, of course not!” I denied frantically. “I couldn’t possibly like you more!” He let out a dry chuckle. “Is that so?” I nodded vigorously. “Mhm!” His black eyeball stared deep into mine for a moment before closing heavily. He turned his back to me, silent. For a long while, he just stood there. Finally, he lifted his foot as if to leave. Seeing this, my tense body began to relax. But before I could even let out a sigh of relief… He—shook—his—body—like—a—wet—dog. Except dogs shake off water. He had no fur. He was covered in dripping, crimson slime. The viscous liquid, mixed with blood, flew in a perfectly calculated arc, drenching me completely. Just before he left, he glanced back at me, a look of profound grievance in his single eye. “…” Standing there, covered in filth, my feelings were… complicated. What the hell was that for? 4. The timer on my bracelet hit 5:00 AM. With a cold, electronic ding, the dead silence of the prison was broken, and it came alive. It was still pitch-black, but now I could hear the voices of other players, distant and near. If I listened closely, I could even make out the sound of someone sobbing quietly. Suddenly, a set of bold red letters lit up the wall. 【Welcome to the Phantom Penitentiary Factory.】 All inmates must adhere to the following rules— 【1. Inmates must remember their number and arrive at the designated location before the countdown ends.】 【2. Your electronic bracelet will display your destination.】 【3. Factory maintenance hours are from 20:00 to 05:00. Please refrain from wandering unless absolutely necessary.】 【4. The Warden’s orders are absolute and must not be defied.】 【Finally, romantic relationships are strictly forbidden within the prison factory!】 【Violators will be punished!】 For some reason, as that last rule was announced, a strange feeling washed over me. It felt… out of place among the other life-or-death rules. Just then, the cold, electronic voice returned: 【All players are now active. Mission directives have been issued.】 【Player count: 300.】 【Good luck.】 The words had barely faded when the lights flashed on. The sudden brightness was blinding. I instinctively threw a hand up to shield my eyes. At the same time, my bracelet started beeping frantically. I squinted, fumbling with the device, trying to turn it off. But aside from its alarm and glowing function, it seemed to have no other features. Not a single button. Giving up, I sighed and started searching the room for a way out. The walls were made of a cold, silvery metal, and even the cell door was constructed from some high-tech material. Getting out of here was going to be next to impossible. The shrill alarm from my bracelet hammered at my nerves: “Inmate, please proceed to the designated location.” “Inmate, please proceed to the designated location.” … The door was flush with the wall, practically seamless. The realization made me pause. So. How did that monster get in? And how did it get out? Time was ticking away, and I still couldn’t find an exit. My brow furrowed, sweat beading on my forehead. The countdown on my bracelet showed only ten minutes left. I forced myself to calm down and searched the room one more time. It was only when I got close to the door again that I heard it—a faint beep-beep. I pressed my ear against the door to listen more closely, but the sound vanished. I glanced down at my bracelet, then stepped back from the door and approached it again. The crisp, electronic beep returned. After a moment’s hesitation, I steadied myself and walked forward. Just as I suspected. As I moved, the silver cell door began to turn transparent. By the time I had stepped completely through, the door behind me solidified back to its original state. 5. I was out of the cell. I wiped the sweat from my face. The first thing I saw was a giant elevator in the center of the massive, open-atrium prison, running straight up to the highest floors. My cell was on the fifth floor, at the far end, a good distance from the elevator. The entire prison was a massive cylindrical structure, at least seventeen stories high. But my bracelet indicated my destination was on the eighteenth floor. As more and more people escaped their cells, a crowd formed in front of the giant elevator. I scanned the faces. Everyone looked utterly bewildered. The elevator doors were closed, but the countdown continued. With only eight minutes left, the electronic voice chimed in again. 【Initial phase: Cell escape. 13 players failed. Current player count: 287.】 【Round one will now officially begin.】 【Players must reach the designated location on the top floor within eight minutes.】 【Please note: The main elevator ascends one floor per minute and can only hold 20 people at a time.】 【Alternatively, players may use the pedestrian stairwell located next to the elevator. Friendly reminder: The stairwell is teeming with anomalies. One wrong step and you might just end up in a monster’s gaping maw.】 So, do I fight 287 people for a spot on an elevator that only holds 20, or do I risk the stairwell filled with unknown dangers? The stairwell was not only dangerous, but I’d also have to sprint to the top floor in a ridiculously short amount of time. This isn’t looking good, I thought. Screams echoed from above as bodies began to fall from the upper levels. In the end, I chose the stairs. Perhaps the only thing more terrifying than monsters are desperate people who have lost their minds.

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