Category: English

After graduation, my pride got the better of me. I lied to my college classmates, telling them I was heading overseas for my master’s degree. In reality, I slunk back to my dead-end hometown, working a soul-crushing job that barely paid minimum wage. Two years later, my absolute ride-or-die best friend called me out of the blue. She asked if I still remembered Arthur Sinclair. Then she dropped the bomb. Arthur Sinclair was actively searching for a body double of his college crush. The compensation? One hundred thousand dollars a month. A cool million if you signed on for a year. I froze right there in my cubicle. Since when did the universe hand out free money like this? 1 Back in college, I was the ultimate fake-it-till-you-make-it queen. For four solid years, I put on an Oscar-worthy performance. On the surface, I was a delicate, sheltered trust-fund baby with an impeccable aesthetic. Behind closed doors, I was surviving on a hundred bucks a month. The only reason I pulled off the rich-girl illusion was because of my best friend, Harper. She had a walk-in closet bigger than my entire childhood home. Not only was it stuffed with every designer label imaginable, but she let me borrow whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. One act of kindness from her bought my absolute loyalty for life. It was worth it. Completely worth it. Originally, Harper and I planned to open a boutique creative agency in New York after graduation. She would be the angel investor, and I would handle the creative tech. But life loves a cruel plot twist. My mom got into a horrific car accident back in Ohio. A drunk driver left her in a persistent vegetative state. The settlement money barely covered the ICU bills, let alone a private, full-time caretaker. My biological father, who had started a new family years ago, showed up at the hospital just long enough to hear the prognosis. He shoved fifty bucks into my hands and told me to never contact him again. Harper cried on the phone, offering to wire me the money for a top-tier nurse so I could still move to New York and start the business with her. As much as I loved keeping up appearances, I knew I couldn’t drain my best friend’s bank account. After agonizing over it for days, I gave up my glittering future, packed my bags, and went back to Ohio to take care of my family. By day, I worked an entry-level clerical job for a miserable salary. By night, I relieved my grandmother at the hospital, sitting by my mom’s bedside. Meanwhile, my college group chats were constantly buzzing. People kept tagging me, asking why I missed the alumni dinners. When you step out into the real world, you get to write your own narrative. My pride was a fragile, stubborn thing. I literally set five different alarms in the middle of the night just to post aesthetic photos and reply to messages, creating the perfect illusion that I was living my best life in Paris. And incredibly, it worked. They bought it completely, begging me to bring back authentic French pastries and luxury perfumes. Some asked about my program, while others gossiped, dying to know if I was dating a gorgeous European model. The questions got so ridiculous that I finally had to mute the chat and go ghost. I couldn’t risk my carefully constructed bubble bursting. 2 Sometimes, karma comes for those who fake it. During rush hour the very next day, I was packed into the subway like a sardine. By the time I stepped off the train, my phone was gone. Pickpocketed. For someone already drowning in medical bills, this was a devastating blow. Scraping together what little cash I had, I bought the cheapest, bulkiest burner phone I could find. A literal brick. I only gave the new number to Harper. We kept in close touch, and she would occasionally fly out to Ohio just to grab drinks and check on me. She asked if I wanted her to add my new number back into the alumni group chats. I thought about it and declined. Covering up one lie requires a dozen more. It was easier to just use the stolen phone as an excuse to fade into the background. Two years went by just like that. Then, on a slow Tuesday afternoon while I was slacking off at my desk, Harper called. “Stella! Massive news!” Her voice was so loud it leaked through the speaker, catching the attention of my miserable micromanager, who immediately glared at me and started walking over to confiscate my phone. I ducked behind my monitor, covering my mouth. “What is it, Harp? I’m literally at work.” Harper sounded like she had drank five espressos. “Do you still remember Arthur Sinclair?” I searched my memory. It rang a bell, but just barely. I only remembered him as the heir to one of the wealthiest real estate empires on the East Coast. A guy with more money than God. Harper’s next words made me accidentally shriek. “He is literally searching for your body double! One hundred thousand dollars a month! A million a year!” “He’s doing what?” I bolted upright, making direct eye contact with my furious manager. “I’m dead serious,” Harper swore. “He put the word out himself. Half the girls in the city are trying to make themselves look like you right now just to get a piece of that payout!” “I swear to God, I don’t understand it. Why is he looking for your clone? And why is he dropping that kind of insane cash?” Harper kept rambling, but the audio completely faded out. The only thing echoing in my brain was: One hundred thousand a month. A million a year. I hadn’t even secured the bag yet, but I was already planning how to spend it. Step one: fire my boss. My manager was standing right in front of my desk, hands on her hips, screeching about company phone policies. I gave her a look that was seventy percent absolute ice, twenty percent pure disdain, and ten percent pity. I grabbed the massive stack of unfinished paperwork on my desk and slammed it right against her chest. “I am absolutely done with this twelve-dollar-an-hour nightmare. Find some other corporate slave to torture!” “Goodbye and good riddance!” Basking in the awe-struck stares of my miserable coworkers, I strutted out the door. I even grabbed the little potted money tree from the reception desk on my way out. A company that refuses to offer a 401k doesn’t deserve good feng shui anyway! 3 Riding the high of finally quitting, I rushed straight to the hospital to process my mom’s transfer paperwork. I was moving my mom and my grandmother to New York. First, it would be easier to take care of them. Second, the medical facilities in the city were world-class. With top-tier neurological rehab, there might actually be a miracle. It took a full week to get my mom safely settled into a private room at one of Manhattan’s premier hospitals. I paid for an upgraded suite so my grandmother had a comfortable place to rest, and rented a tiny, closet-sized studio apartment nearby for myself. By the time all the logistics were sorted, my savings and the remainder of the settlement money were completely wiped out. I stared at the three-digit balance in my checking account. My fingers acted on their own, dialing Harper’s number. “Harp, I’m in the City. Where exactly do I go to audition for this body double gig?” Harper texted me a sprawling estate address and a private phone number, telling me to call it when I arrived. I checked the time. It was still early. I dug through my duffel bag and pulled out my designated “interview blazer.” When I sat down in front of a cheap two-dollar mirror to do my makeup, reality hit me. I hadn’t bought a single new beauty product in two years. I was no longer the delicate, glowing college girl. I was an exhausted corporate drone beaten down by two years of late nights and cheap ramen. I hesitated. Eventually, I walked into a Sephora and used the tester products to do a full face of free makeup. To hide the dark circles and my exhausted complexion, I had to layer on a ridiculous amount of foundation. I barely looked seventy percent like my old self. But the commute was brutal. The bus felt like a rolling sauna, and the air conditioning was practically non-existent because an older passenger insisted on keeping the windows open. My carefully applied makeup completely melted off in the heat. My eyeliner smudged into massive raccoon circles, making me look like a sleep-deprived goth. When I stepped off the bus and checked my reflection in a storefront window, I nearly passed out from pure anger. But victory was right in front of me. I wasn’t about to give up now. Gritting my teeth, I pulled a wet wipe from my purse and scrubbed my face completely clean. I was naturally gorgeous anyway. Auditioning to play myself? Piece of cake. 4 I confidently pedaled a rented Citi Bike right up to the gates of an ultra-exclusive billionaire’s row. The moment I clicked the bike lock, a security guard marched over to chase me away. “What do you think you’re doing? If you don’t have an invitation, take this piece of junk and get lost!” Excuse me? The absolute disrespect! My inner diva flared to life. I gave the guard a withering side-eye and elegantly pulled my device out of my pocket. My Nokia brick phone. I dialed the number Harper gave me. “Hello. I’m here for the body double audition. I’m currently standing at the front gates, and your security guard is trying to throw me out. Could you please come out and get me?” A smooth male voice came through the receiver. “You’re here for the audition? Understood. Please wait a moment, I’ll be right out.” I put the phone on speaker and glared at the guard. “Did you hear that? Consider that my invitation.” “Try to chase me away one more time. I dare you. I will personally ensure the homeowner gets you fired!” The guard snapped his mouth shut, gave me a wary look, and retreated to his little booth. I waited by the gate for a few minutes. A sleek, midnight-black Bentley rolled out of the estate. Assuming it was one of the rich residents leaving for the day, I took a step back to let it pass. Instead, the luxury car stopped perfectly in front of me. The window rolled down. The driver was a devastatingly handsome man in casual designer clothes. His voice matched the one on the phone perfectly. “May I ask your name?” “Hi, my last name is Bennett.” “Alright, Miss Bennett. Please get in. I’ll take you inside.” 5 First came the shock of being chauffeured in a Bentley. Then came the sheer, overwhelming shock of walking into a penthouse mansion that had to be at least six thousand square feet. I knew Arthur Sinclair was wealthy. I just didn’t comprehend that he was this wealthy. I admit it, I’m shallow. I love money. If this meant I had to fall in love with Arthur Sinclair, I was absolutely willing to take that bullet. The moment I stepped into the grand living room, I saw over a dozen women sitting on the plush velvet sofas. Their heads snapped toward me in unison. Every single one of them had recreated my signature “effortless” college makeup look. The bizarre, uncanny valley feeling of seeing a room full of almost-me’s made the hair on my arms stand up. But I had to admit, two of them actually looked strikingly similar to me with all that contouring. All the other candidates were dressed in stunning, high-fashion outfits. In contrast, I was standing there in a cheap blazer. I looked less like a romantic body double and more like the new maid. I found a quiet corner on the sofa and sat down. The gorgeous girl next to me immediately pinched her nose and scooted away. “Ugh, what is that cheap perfume…” Was she seriously insulting the hand-stitched magnolia sachet my grandmother made for me? My patience snapped. I stared at her, desperately trying to find a flaw so I could visually destroy her. I looked her up and down. Left and right. To my absolute horror, I realized something. Aside from my actual face, I didn’t have a single thing on her. Is this what pretty privilege felt like? I clicked my tongue and casually touched my slightly dry cheek. “Honestly, girls who look absolutely nothing like Mr. Sinclair’s first love really shouldn’t even bother showing up.” “Unlike me. Even without a ten-step skincare routine, I’m still a solid seventy percent match.” Perfume Girl’s face turned a violent shade of green. She couldn’t refute a single word because I was spitting pure facts. Frustrated, she resorted to cheap emotional damage. “Hmph. Look at how pathetic and broke you are. Even if Mr. Sinclair doesn’t pick me, there is zero chance he’ll ever look twice at a beggar like you.” She made a very valid point. Any normal person would have folded right then and there. But I wasn’t normal. I was a master of faking it. I said I was going to secure Arthur Sinclair’s bank account, and I meant it. Just then, heavy oak doors opened down the hall. A stunning girl walked out, looking utterly defeated. As she walked past us, I caught her muttering to herself. “I was disqualified because I have a mole on my neck? If his standards are this psycho, why doesn’t he just fly overseas and chase the real girl down?” “Next,” a deep, magnetic voice called from inside the room. The handsome guy from the Bentley walked over and asked who wanted to go next. Before I could even open my mouth, Perfume Girl pointed directly at me. “Let her go first. She smells weird, and I’m suffocating out here!” I stood up, completely unbothered. “I smell like Mother Nature. You just smell like desperate capitalism.” With that, I marched into the room, leaving her furious sputtering behind the heavy doors. 6 I turned around with a perfect customer-service smile, locking eyes with a visibly stunned Arthur Sinclair. “Hello, Mr. Sinclair. My name is Ella.” He stared at me, completely mesmerized, not saying a word. It wasn’t until I confidently sat down in the chair across from his mahogany desk that he finally blinked. “You…” Arthur had shed the youthful vibe of his college days. He looked incredibly mature, powerful, and intimidatingly handsome in his bespoke suit. He paused, measuring his words carefully. “You look very much like her.” I nodded enthusiastically, taking the opportunity to flatter myself. “To be compared to your stunning, unforgettable first love is the greatest honor of my life.” Arthur took a slow breath before delivering the killing blow. “However, you only look similar. Your eyes aren’t quite as large as hers, and your nose isn’t as perfectly sloped.” “Furthermore, your skin seems much duller than hers.” Dude, have you never heard of the magic of highlighter and concealer? I swallowed my protests. He was technically insulting me, but also praising the “real” me. It was a bizarre paradox. I honestly didn’t know how to respond. I just maintained my fake corporate smile and looked at him with puppy-dog eyes. “Those are just minor imperfections. I can easily fix all of that with a good makeup artist.” “As long as you hire me, I am willing to learn and adapt to anything you need!” Arthur’s eyes flickered with a strange light. He asked a very direct question. “Why exactly are you applying to be a body double?” What kind of question was that? “For the money, obviously.” Arthur stared deeply into my eyes. I held his gaze without flinching. After a long moment, a faint smile curved his lips. He picked up his sleek phone from the desk. “Understood. Let’s exchange contacts. My team will notify you of the results shortly.” I chirped a bright “Okay!” and pulled my brick phone out of my bag. I mashed the physical buttons a few times before sliding it across the desk. “You’ll have to type your number in. My camera is completely busted, so I can’t scan anything.” Arthur finally got a good look at my ancient Nokia. His expression didn’t change, but he gave me a long, unreadable look. He didn’t say a word. After exchanging numbers, I floated out of the room feeling like a million bucks. Before leaving the waiting area, I blew a dramatic kiss to Perfume Girl. “Good luck in there, sweetie!” 7 The very next day, while sitting in the hospital cafeteria, I got a text from Arthur. He told me I passed the interview and sent an address, demanding I meet him there immediately. I opened the location on my map app. Well then. It was the most exclusive, ultra-luxury designer boutique on Fifth Avenue. Did Arthur think I looked too tragic and decided I needed a complete makeover? Music to my ears. For the first time in years, I splurged. I ordered a premium rideshare and cruised all the way into the city in comfort. It only took twenty minutes to arrive. Arthur was already sitting inside the boutique. I was about to walk in and greet him, but a snobby sales associate immediately blocked the entrance. “I am so sorry, miss. Our boutique does not allow casual browsing or trying on garments without an appointment. Perhaps you would be more comfortable looking at the stores down the block?” I raised an eyebrow. “What, do I look like someone who can’t afford your clothes?” She gave me a strained, patronizing smile. “That is not what I meant—” “You’re absolutely right, I can’t afford a single thing in here,” I interrupted her, pointing straight at Arthur, who was looking up from his phone. “But he can.” The associate froze. She turned around just in time to see Arthur Sinclair nodding in my direction. Her attitude shifted faster than a sports car. A second later, she was beaming radiantly, ushering me inside with royal treatment. I sat down on the velvet sofa across from Arthur. The handsome guy from the Bentley—who I learned was his assistant, Noah—pulled two items out of a leather briefcase and placed them on the glass coffee table. “This is your employment contract, Miss Bennett. Please review the terms. If everything is acceptable, you may sign at the bottom.” I flipped through the pages. My hand actually started to shake. Arthur Sinclair was the patron saint of capitalism. Forget the $100,000 monthly salary—this man was offering a full 401k match, premium dental, and platinum-tier health insurance! I suddenly felt intensely grateful that two years ago, after my father’s betrayal, I had legally changed my last name to my mother’s maiden name. If I was still walking around as Stella Wright, I wouldn’t have dared accept this kind of corporate package from him. Tears of pure joy pricked my eyes as I signed the last page: Ella Bennett. 8 Aside from the contract, Noah also handed me a sealed box containing the newest, most expensive smartphone on the market. The boutique’s AC was blasting, but the sleek phone box felt burning hot in my hands. To show my immediate gratitude to my new billionaire boss, I unboxed it right in front of him, saved his number, and set his contact name to “The Boss.” He caught a glimpse of the screen and immediately frowned. “Isn’t ‘The Boss’ a little too corporate?” Fair point. I tested the waters. “Well, what did your unforgettable first love save your name as?” Honestly, I didn’t expect him to have an answer. Because as the actual girl in question, I had never even added his number in college, let alone given him a cute nickname. Or maybe I did add him, but completely ignored his existence. Either way, no memory of it. To my absolute shock, not only did he answer me, but the tips of his ears turned slightly red. “Arthur.” “Her friends told me she had my name saved simply as ‘Arthur’, with a red heart.” Wait, seriously? If Harper was the one feeding him this information, I could perfectly picture her getting annoyed by his questions and just making up the most cliché romantic garbage to get him to leave her alone. Poor, naive CEO. Completely manipulated. I typed out “Arthur <3" and showed him the screen. Arthur looked incredibly pleased. He handed me a sleek, heavy black card and told me to swipe it on whatever I wanted. Before leaving the boutique to head back to the office, he gave Noah a set of instructions. "After she finishes shopping, drive her back to the estate." "You got it!" I chirped. Wait, hold on. "The estate?" 9 By the time we left the shopping district, Noah's arms were overflowing with luxury shopping bags. Before heading to the mansion, I asked Noah to make a quick detour to the hospital. During the ride, I awkwardly asked to borrow a little cash from him, promising to pay him back the second my first paycheck hit. It was a desperate move, but I had no choice. My grandmother was getting older, and I couldn't leave her alone to handle my mom's intensive care while I was living at Arthur's estate. I needed to hire a professional daytime nurse immediately. Medical care in New York was astronomically expensive, and my pathetic three-digit bank account was laughable. As for why I didn't just swipe Arthur's black card? I wanted to, but I'm pretty sure freelance nurses don't carry point-of-sale card readers in their scrubs. Thankfully, Noah was incredibly understanding. Without asking a single question, he wired me six thousand dollars on the spot. It was exactly enough to cover the nurse until payday. I quickly sorted out the hospital logistics. By the time we finally pulled up to the sprawling Sinclair estate, the sky was painted in brilliant shades of sunset orange. Arthur wasn't home. Noah explained that he was still tied up with meetings at the corporate headquarters. I couldn't help my curiosity. "Does he work this late every day?" Noah set the mountain of shopping bags down in the foyer and smiled faintly. "Pretty much. He usually has dinner out with clients before heading back." "But don't worry, Miss Bennett. No matter how late he works, Mr. Sinclair always comes home." That sounded a bit odd, but before I could analyze it, Noah handed me a heavy, metallic keycard. "This grants you full access to the gates and the front doors. If you don't need anything else, I'll be heading out." 10 After seeing Noah out, I gave myself a grand tour of the mansion. The interior was minimalist, breathtakingly expensive, and entirely devoid of warm colors. It matched Arthur's intimidating aura perfectly. I didn't just sit around. I got to work. Since I didn't know the specific rules of being a body double, I assumed I needed to stay in full "college crush" character until he went to sleep. I carefully applied my signature "effortless" makeup look and sat gracefully on the living room sofa, waiting for him. I figured he'd be late, but I didn't realize he'd be this late. The grandfather clock chimed midnight before I finally heard the electronic lock click open. I snapped out of my doze, looking toward the entryway with sleepy eyes. The moment Arthur saw me sitting there, pure shock flashed across his face. But he quickly masked it with calm indifference. He shrugged off his tailored suit jacket, draping it over a chair, and loosened his silk tie as he walked toward me. The sofa dipped beside me. Arthur sat down, his voice smooth. "Why are you still awake?" "I was waiting for you to come home." I brushed my messy hair out of my face, desperately fighting back a massive yawn. Arthur's fingers paused on his cufflink. "If you're tired, you don't have to wait up for me." I nodded, letting out a soft hum of agreement. Just as I was about to retreat to my assigned guest room to wash off my makeup and pass out, my stomach let out a violent, echoing growl. In the dead silence of the massive living room, it sounded like a dying whale. My traitorous stomach... Making me absolutely humiliate myself on day one of the job. My ears burned. I tried to casually stand up and sprint out of the room, pretending nothing happened. But Arthur stopped me. "I'm a little hungry myself. Care to join me?" Join him? Eating what? Five minutes later, I was sitting awkwardly at the massive marble kitchen island, staring at the back of Arthur Sinclair—billionaire CEO—as he expertly worked the stove. I tried to jump in and take over the cooking multiple times. But Arthur just waved me off. "No need. Just sit there." I obediently sat back down and waited. Who would have thought a man worth billions would have such a domestic, grounded side? He carried over two steaming bowls of artisanal noodles topped with fresh scallions. He sat down, leaving a full empty seat between us. Wasn't this distance a bit too professional? If I didn't bridge the gap, how was I going to survive my one-month probation period? Determined, I picked up my heavy ceramic bowl and boldly slid into the seat directly next to him. Arthur's chopsticks paused mid-air. He looked over at me. "What's wrong? Is the food not to your liking?" I shook my head, lowering my eyes in a display of perfect, manufactured shyness. "No, I just wanted to be a little closer to you." "Besides, hot noodles taste better when you eat them right next to someone." I blew gently on the steam, channeling my most elegant college-girl table manners as I took tiny, delicate bites. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Arthur staring at me intently. After a long moment, he looked back down at his bowl, the faintest trace of a smile pulling at his lips. "Yes. They do."

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Lately, Joey had been piecing my life together through the casual remarks of others. When his friends jokingly congratulated him on becoming a “trophy husband”, it finally dawned on him that I had already paid the down payment on a new house entirely on my own. A group photo posted on my best friend’s Instagram was the only way he found out I had chopped off all my hair into a sharp bob. Even when I flew out to his city for a business trip, he only found out because we literally collided at the corner of a shopping mall. He furrowed his brows, asking why I hadn’t told him I was in town. His voice was thick with genuine confusion. “You used to sit through a six-hour cross-country flight just to see me for a weekend without a single complaint.” I avoided his gaze and threw out a casual excuse. “Work has been crazy lately. I barely have time to breathe.” Looking at his stunned expression, a random memory flashed through my mind. Just half a month ago, I had been perfectly willing to drop my entire career without a second thought just to make it to a date with him. 1 When I bumped into Joey at the mall, I was actually on the phone with my best friend, Brooke, making plans for dinner. “Wow, did hell freeze over?” Brooke teased through the speaker. “I thought you only ever visited Seattle to play the devoted girlfriend.” Her tone made me laugh. “I swear on my life, I am here for a week-long business trip, and I am absolutely not seeing him.” Brooke let out a dramatic gasp, clearly not believing a word. And fair enough. In the past, I had nearly quit my six-figure job just to secure a weekend off to see Joey. Right after I made that blood oath to Brooke, a hand suddenly grabbed my wrist as I rounded the corner. “You’re here again? Didn’t we just see each other two weeks ago?” I stared blankly at the person holding onto me. It took me a full two seconds to process who it was. I was usually the one who picked out all of Joey’s clothes. He always wore perfectly ironed button-downs and tailored slacks, looking every bit the reliable, professional doctor. But right now, he was wearing a cream-colored oversized hoodie. The boyish, collegiate outfit completely stripped away his usual mature aura. Joey checked his watch. When he looked back up at me, his eyes did not hold the warmth of a man seeing his long-distance girlfriend. Instead, he looked at me like I was just another patient taking up his time in the waiting room. “I have a shift at the hospital this afternoon. I don’t have time to entertain you.” “Next time you decide to fly out, give me a heads up…” I cut him off immediately. “Who said I came here to see you? You’re overthinking things. I don’t have time for you either.” Joey froze. “But you’re always the one counting down the days until we see each other.” That was the old me. The old me would have rushed out of the airport on a four-hour layover just to grab a twenty-minute coffee with him. The old me would work five days of brutal overtime to finish a project early, all to match his single day off. But now, if we hadn’t accidentally crossed paths, he never would have known I was in his city. “There is no need to throw a tantrum. Dr. Wright is incredibly busy and exhausted every single day.” The girl standing next to Joey suddenly spoke up. Her name was Sophie. “It is bad enough that you are not being understanding, but showing up unannounced like this? Now Dr. Wright is going to feel obligated to waste his precious resting time on you.” I stared at Sophie’s incredibly self-righteous expression. She was also wearing an oversized hoodie. Matched with Joey’s, it looked sickeningly like a couples outfit. Not far away, a clothing store had a massive red banner proudly advertising a “Couples 50% Off” sale. A cold smirk crept onto my face. “You don’t have time to see me, but you have plenty of time to go shopping with her?” Sophie lifted her chin slightly, her face the picture of moral superiority. “Please do not misunderstand, Sienna! Dr. Wright usually dresses far too strictly, which makes the patients nervous. I simply suggested he wear something softer, so I accompanied him to pick out a few items.” “I happened to like this hoodie too, and the store had a couples discount. I only agreed to it to save some money.” “I am not like you. You come from money and never have to look at price tags. I do not have a wealthy family backing me. I have to stretch every single dollar. You really do not need to be so insecure and suspicious.” I actually laughed out loud. “What he wears is none of your business. Are you his girlfriend or his mother?” “Saving money by using someone else’s boyfriend. You really know how to play the system, don’t you?” Sophie’s face flushed bright red. “You…” Joey tightened his grip on my hand, his tone softening as he tried to pacify me. “I didn’t make time for you, so you have every right to be angry with me. But taking it out on someone else is out of line. She was just trying to be frugal.” “How about this. I will call in a favor, take the afternoon off, and spend it with you. Okay?” Suddenly, the entire situation just felt incredibly pathetic. I yanked my hand out of his grip. “I am busy! I already told you I didn’t come here for you. Are you incapable of understanding basic English?” This time, Joey was left completely speechless. 2 This was the fourth year of our long-distance relationship. And it had been brutal. I flew from New York to Seattle every single month to see him. That was only twelve visits a year. To bridge the gap, we promised to video call every single night. Even if we were dead on our feet, we had to say goodnight before hanging up. I couldn’t quite pinpoint when it started. But gradually, Sophie’s name began dominating our nightly calls. “The new nurse assigned to me is so clumsy. She missed the vein three times during a blood draw today.” “She has a really kind heart, though. She sneaks cafeteria food out to feed the stray cats in the alley.” “I overheard the chief mentioning that she comes from a really tough background. She took out massive loans for nursing school, just like I did for med school. But she wasn’t as lucky as me. My greatest luck was meeting you in college.” I never took it seriously. I just assumed she was a quirky subordinate. Then, a month ago, Joey told me he had an out-of-state medical conference and wouldn’t be able to do our goodnight calls. It wasn’t until a mutual friend from his hospital called me to say Joey had been admitted for a severe stomach ulcer that I found out the truth. His “medical conference” was in my city. New York. He wasn’t planning a romantic surprise. He genuinely just hadn’t planned on telling me he was in town. “I was just too busy, and it slipped my mind. I was only going to be there for two days anyway. There was no point in making a huge fuss and dragging you out.” To him, seeing me had become a chore. A burden. While I was standing in his hospital room processing that, the thermos of hot soup in my hands was suddenly shoved aside. A woman in scrubs aggressively popped the lid off her own insulated container and glared at me. “Dr. Wright was admitted for a severe stomach ulcer! He cannot eat heavy, greasy food!” She fluttered around his bed, adjusting his pillows and pouring his water. She looked exactly like the lady of the house. She threw the apple I had carefully peeled for him straight into the trash, claiming I hadn’t washed my hands using the proper clinical seven-step method, so it was contaminated. When I stared at his IV drip rate, she scoffed, telling me I was a clueless outsider and ordering me to stay out of the way. I stepped out to use the restroom for exactly three minutes. When I came back, the two of them were laughing together, completely immersed in their own world. Knowing I had absolutely no interest in the medical field, Joey cleared his throat and offered a weak explanation. “We were just talking about work.” But Sophie just had to add her own little jab. “Even if we explained it to you, you wouldn’t understand a word.” A ball of fire twisted in my gut. I looked straight at Joey. “Since when do you hire nurses with this kind of attitude? Fire her.” Sophie froze, then puffed out her chest. “I am a registered nurse with a degree from a proper medical program. I am not some cheap caretaker you can just dismiss!” That was when I realized this was Sophie. Clearly, she had crossed the line. And Joey had completely enabled her. Infidelity and emotional wandering are the oldest clichés in long-distance relationships. I used to arrogantly believe we were the exception. I thought we were immune to a bad ending. If I had been harboring any foolish hopes before, pretending I was just being overly sensitive, the whole “fake couples hoodie” incident completely shattered that illusion. … I bought Brooke a gift at the mall and picked up the custom-tailored suit I had ordered weeks ago. After a quick lunch with Brooke, I dove straight back into my work. Between working endless overtime and getting caught in a freezing Seattle downpour, I ended up with a raging fever and landed myself right back in the hospital. Talk about terrible luck. The nurse assigned to draw my blood was Sophie. She tied the tourniquet around my arm with entirely too much force. She jabbed the needle in three separate times, failing to find the vein every single time. Horrific, dark purple bruises bloomed across my pale skin. I lost my patience. “I want a different nurse.” Sophie didn’t look remorseful in the slightest. Her tone was completely justified. “You do not own this hospital. Medical resources are strictly limited, and there are other patients waiting. Please stop wasting my time.” I laughed out of sheer anger. “Your technique is garbage. I have every right to request a competent nurse.” Sophie lifted her chin, her face a mask of pure stubbornness. “Please do not insult my professional abilities. You kept squirming. Of course I couldn’t get the needle in.” I didn’t waste another breath on her. I simply pressed the call button for the attending doctor. The person who rushed through the door was Joey. 3 “You’re sick? Why didn’t you tell me?” The color completely drained from Joey’s face the second he saw me. He practically sprinted to my bedside. His fingers gently supported my bruised arm, his voice thick with undeniable heartache. “How did it get this bad? Why didn’t you call me?” I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Your nurse has absolutely no idea what she’s doing, and then she blames the patient for her own incompetence. Is this the standard of care at your hospital? Tell her to expect a formal complaint.” Sophie’s eyes instantly welled with tears. She bit her lip hard. “Sienna, I know you despise me. You are a wealthy, privileged girl. You could never possibly understand my struggles.” “The hospital is voting for the ‘Nurse of the Year’ award right now, and this is incredibly important to me. I am entirely alone in this city. I have no one to rely on. I have to earn every single penny with my own blood and sweat. Every path I take, I have to carve out myself…” I cut her off, thoroughly exhausted. “What does any of your sob story have to do with me?” Joey instructed another nurse to bring an ice pack and some warm towels. He carefully began treating my bruised arm. But the words coming out of his mouth chilled me straight to the bone. “The bruising looks worse than it is. It will fade in a week, and it definitely won’t scar.” “Her technique is actually perfectly fine. She was probably just nervous today. If you file a formal complaint, all her hard work for the year will be completely ruined.” “It really isn’t easy for a young girl to survive alone in a big city. Just let this go. Be good for me.” Sophie reached up and wiped away a tear. She tilted her chin up slightly, looking exactly like a martyr who had finally received divine justice. In the past, if I got a tiny papercut, Joey would hover over me in distress for half an hour. He would meticulously apply a bandage while cursing the paper for being too sharp. But now, he was pouring all his empathy onto the person who had actually hurt me. I curled my fingers into tight fists. My chest felt like it was packed with wet cement, but my voice came out ice-cold. “Call your department head. I am filing a formal complaint against both of you.” Sophie’s face hardened with righteous fury. “I take full responsibility for my own actions. Do not drag Dr. Wright into this! Even if you are his girlfriend, you have no right to bully people like this!” She threw her hands up dramatically. Her arm caught the open bottle of iodine on the medical cart. The dark brown liquid splashed directly onto the eight-thousand-dollar custom suit resting on the edge of the bed. Silence blanketed the messy room. I looked at the ruined fabric and spoke slowly. “That was my outfit for a major client meeting. You just destroyed it.” Sophie froze for a split second before stiffening her neck defiantly. “If you hadn’t been intentionally making things difficult for me and Dr. Wright, I never would have panicked and knocked it over. When you really think about it, this is your own fault.” I calmly picked up my phone. “You can explain that logic to the police.” “Wait!” Sophie looked away, her tone dripping with a bizarre, condescending kind of forgiveness. “At the end of the day, you are the one in the wrong, and you know it. But you are using my livelihood to threaten me. I do not have your money or your power, so I have to swallow this injustice.” “It is just a piece of clothing. I will pay you back. How much is it?” I leaned back against the pillows, watching her with a perfectly calm expression. I enunciated every single syllable. “Eight thousand dollars.” Sophie’s righteous indignation shattered instantly. Total panic washed over her features, her voice pitching into a shrill shriek. “That is impossible!” “How could a piece of fabric cost that much! Who are you trying to scam!” “You rich people are all exactly the same. You just use your money to crush normal people…” I cut her off smoothly. “Are you paying, or am I calling the cops?” 4 Sophie ran out of the room sobbing hysterically. Joey didn’t chase after her. He just stood there, looking at me like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. I ignored him entirely. I got out of bed, walked straight to the nursing station, and officially filed my complaint. That evening, Joey insisted on taking me out to dinner. He fell back into his usual routine, asking about my life in his gentle, soothing voice. “How have you been lately?” “Fine.” “What have you been busy with?” “Just work.” Joey paused, a forced smile touching his lips. “Why didn’t you tell me you cut your hair? If I hadn’t seen Brooke’s post, I would have had no idea.” “And you don’t even text me first anymore. We haven’t done our goodnight calls in weeks.” “I’ve been busy. I don’t have the time.” Three short sentences, and the conversation was completely dead. During our old visits, I always had an endless supply of things to tell him. From how much I despised the new director at my company, to a cute stray cat I saw on the sidewalk. I would take the most trivial, mundane details of my life and spin them into hour-long stories. I used to wish I could pour a whole month’s worth of unspoken words into his lap the second I saw him. Now, I just stared at my plate and ate in silence. Four years of a long-distance relationship. We went from messaging each other the second we opened our eyes, to barely speaking ten sentences a month. We went from telling each other everything first, to him being the absolute last to know. We went from endless late-night talks, to having absolutely nothing left to say. And it had only taken half a month to unravel. Joey sat in silence for a long time before reaching across the table to grab my hand. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so obsessed with working hard so we can finally end the distance, I completely neglected your feelings.” My parents had always been strictly against me moving across the country for a man. Because of that, Joey had sworn to buy a house and settle down in New York. His own parents were absolutely furious with the decision and completely cut off all financial support. Joey squeezed my fingers. “I’ve been looking into a few high-end private medical centers in New York. A couple of them have already invited me for final interviews. Once my job is secured, we can start house hunting. Which means…” He tried to keep his tone casual, but the excitement in his voice spiked. “We won’t have to be long-distance anymore!” I froze. This was the exact future I had dreamed about for years. But now that it was practically sitting in the palm of my hand, it felt like we were standing on completely different planets. “Didn’t you want to get a cat? When we buy a place, we can install a massive cat tree on the balcony wall, and set up a little hammock by the window so they can sunbathe.” “Speaking of cats…” He paused, as if a completely natural thought had just occurred to him. His tone shifted effortlessly. “Sophie really loves cats too. She always sneaks out back to feed the strays behind the clinic. She really is a good person. She just lacks a filter sometimes.” “Eight thousand dollars might just be a jacket to you, but to her, that’s almost a year’s worth of living expenses. She isn’t like you. She doesn’t have a safety net. She hasn’t even finished paying off her nursing school loans. By the time she pays rent, she barely has enough left to eat.” “I know you really dislike her, but she’s had a remarkably hard life. I had to claw my way up from the bottom too, so I understand exactly where she’s coming from.” Word after word. It was all about Sophie. I never imagined the day would come when the man I loved couldn’t speak three sentences without bringing up another woman. I put down my fork. “You know I despise her, yet you keep bringing her up. What exactly is your endgame here?” Joey pressed his lips together in a helpless, indulgent smile. “You’ve always had a bit of a temper. I spoiled you, and I gladly take the brunt of it. That is my job as your boyfriend. But you can’t aim that temper at innocent bystanders, right?” “Drop the formal complaint. She’ll get the suit professionally dry-cleaned and return it to you. Then, you can just offer her a quick apology.” Every single time he defended her, he chipped away another piece of my love for him. So when I heard those words, I didn’t feel heartbroken. I only felt a cold, lingering anger. I looked at him calmly. “She made a massive professional error. I have absolutely no obligation to tolerate it.” “I only asked her to pay for the suit. I didn’t demand compensation for my ruined client meeting or my emotional distress. That is already me being incredibly generous.” “Besides, what does her ‘hard life’ have to do with me? Does having a tough background suddenly act as a get-out-of-jail-free card for ruining things? If a surgeon accidentally kills a patient, can they just say ‘my life is hard’ and walk away?” Joey stared at me, completely stunned. It was as if I had morphed into a stranger right in front of his eyes. Unforgiving. Aggressive. Maybe the old me would have backed down to save his pride. I wouldn’t have wanted an outsider to create a rift between us. But the man sitting across from me right now. To me, he was just an outsider too. I locked eyes with Joey and spoke with razor-sharp clarity. “The complaint and the demand for compensation are staying exactly where they are.” “Also. We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.”

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When I went into the bathroom to hand Silas his soap, he was right in the middle of his shower. My gaze swept over his wet skin, and I thought to myself: Damn, it’s actually pink. Silas froze. The very next second, a heavy bar of soap came flying at my head, nearly knocking me out cold. 1 Silas came home late that evening. I waited by the door, a picture-perfect smile on my face, and signed: Welcome home, darling. Silas didn’t even spare me a glance. He walked right past me like I was made of glass. I glared at his broad back and cursed him in my head: Are you blind? Can’t you see your own wife standing right here? Suddenly, Silas stumbled. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at me. I instantly dropped my glare, flashed a sweet smile, and signed: Is something wrong? His eyes darkened. He looked me up and down before muttering, “Nothing.” 2 My name is Harper Bennett, the second daughter of the Bennett family. Because I was born mute, I was the invisible child, the one completely ignored by my own parents. Two months ago, the Sinclair family proposed a marriage alliance with us. My dad originally wanted to marry off my older sister, Serena. Serena had even put on a shy, blushing act, eagerly expressing her deep affection for the Sinclair heir. But to everyone’s absolute shock, Silas pointed a finger straight at the dark corner where I was hiding and said with a straight face, “I want to marry her.” I didn’t even process what was happening. When I finally turned my head, I caught Serena staring at me with pure, venomous hatred. 3 We slept in separate bedrooms on our wedding night, but I desperately wanted to cross that line. At one in the morning, I snuck into Silas’s room. Turns out, the man wasn’t asleep at all. In the pitch black, his voice came out low and vicious, “Get out.” I jumped out of my skin and nearly collapsed onto the expensive rug. Silas flipped on the bedside lamp. Under the dim, warm light, his sharp, incredibly handsome features were half-hidden in the shadows. I pointed at my own chest, playing dumb: Me? Silas understood my sign language perfectly. He fired back, “Who else is in here?” I stood up straight, squared my shoulders, and signed boldly: I want to sleep with you. “…” Silas got out of bed, his massive hand suddenly shooting out to pinch my cheeks. I froze, completely terrified to move. His voice was ice-cold as it brushed against my ear: “I only married you because you’re quiet. There is no other reason. Know your place, and don’t ever pull a stunt like this again.” 4 My outward reaction: Oh no, I’m so scared. My inner monologue: Hehe, totally doing that again. Silas had completely misjudged me. The “quiet and docile” personality was just an act. Deep down, I was a walking menace with a rebellious streak a mile wide. The more he told me no, the more I wanted to push his buttons. We were legally married. What the hell did “knowing my place” even mean? Still, I knew I couldn’t push my luck too fast. I had to practice my moves in my head first. A week ago, I was daydreaming about him as usual, totally lost in my own spicy little fantasy. I didn’t expect Silas to walk right past me at that exact moment. Panic flared in my chest. I pretended to trip, sending my head crashing straight into his rock-hard chest. The impact practically knocked my soul out of my body. Silas grabbed my arms to steady me. “Careful.” 5 It was right around that time that I noticed Silas acting weird. He became incredibly irritable and would glare at me for absolutely no reason. And I swear I hadn’t done anything wrong. For example, when we were eating breakfast together. I took a sneaky peek at him: Those shirt buttons are fighting for their lives. A man’s chest is truly his best dowry. Silas’s eyelid twitched violently. “Stop eating breakfast with me from now on.” Or, another time, when I was helping him get dressed: Wow, what a waist. Wonder how long he can actually last? Two seconds max? Silas’s entire body went rigid. He violently shoved his arms back into his jacket. “Never come into my walk-in closet again.” …What a diva. Like I actually want to serve you anyway. I kept a gentle, innocent expression on my face and signed: I understand. I turned around to leave, but Silas grabbed my shoulder and pinned me against the wall. He tilted my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eye. My reflection stared back at me in his deep, narrow eyes. “Harper.” He said my name. “Even though we are husband and wife, you need to learn some boundaries.” I blinked slowly, giving him my best doe-eyed look. But inside, I was screaming: Oh, I definitely want to measure your boundaries. “You…” He trailed off, snapping his mouth shut. He released me and turned his back. “Forget it. Just get out.” 6 Tonight, Silas went straight to the shower right after coming home. Determined to end my dry spell, I had already laid out all his usual toiletries. Halfway through his shower, he realized his soap was missing. I was already standing guard by the door, ready for action. Inside the bathroom, hot steam rolled through the air like a sauna. And standing right there was a man with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Droplets of water slid down his pale, muscular chest. Further down were eight perfectly sculpted abs. Silas reached out a hand, his voice raspy. “Give it to me.” Thrilled, I quickly grabbed his hand instead. His large palm was incredibly warm, the wet heat making my mouth go instantly dry. He gripped my hand back, his thumb slowly sliding up my wrist. I gulped hard: It’s happening! It’s finally happening! Wreck me! Destroy me! I am ready! I’ll be superwoman tonight! Then Silas’s voice floated down from above. “Give me the soap.” Son of a bitch. I slapped the bar of soap into his palm. Silas immediately tried to kick me out. “Leave.” But I didn’t move an inch. I literally couldn’t take my eyes off his flawless skin. I stared right at him, openly checking him out: He’s so pale. I bet it’s pink. Yep, definitely pink. Not bad. Not bad at all. I completely missed the dark, murderous aura radiating from him. I kept fantasizing: First we’ll do it like this, then like that, and then… Silas scowled. He shifted slightly to cover himself and snapped: “Are you leaving or not?” My brain short-circuited. I pointed directly at his crotch and signed: Could you swing it around for me to see? Silas completely lost his mind. Furious, he hurled the soap right at my head: “Get out!” 7 Thank God for my quick reflexes, or that bar of soap would have been the end of me. Because of that little comment, Silas avoided me like the plague for days. This awkward tension dragged on until Bella Roth’s lavish birthday gala. I walked into the ballroom with my arm linked through Silas’s. He instantly commanded the room, getting swarmed by businessmen and socialites. I was casually shoved to the sidelines. Someone accidentally bumped their glass, spilling red wine all over my designer dress. A huge, dark stain bloomed across the fabric. No one apologized. I was so used to being treated like invisible trash that I barely even blinked. I headed to the restroom alone to try and scrub the stain out. Bella Roth, the birthday girl, was already in there. Dressed in a blood-red gown, she glared at me with a vicious look that reminded me of a ghost from a cheap horror movie. My stomach dropped. Four or five girls caked in heavy makeup blocked the exit behind me. Someone shoved me hard in the back. Bella walked toward me with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Harper, how have you been?” “Does Mr. Sinclair actually like you?” None of your damn business. I turned to leave. Bella grabbed my arm, pulled me back, and slapped me hard across the face. “You mute bitch, you think you can ignore me?” She grabbed a handful of my hair and slammed me backward into a stall door. My ears rang violently, and my cheek burned like fire. Bella leaned in close, whispering venomously: “Don’t think playing the pathetic victim will win his heart. He doesn’t love you.” “He only married you to put on a show.” I parted my lips and mouthed the words slowly: Dumb. Ass. “What did you just say?” Bella turned to her minions. “Shove her in there!” The girls swarmed me, dragging me into a toilet stall and slamming the door shut. A second later, a bucket of freezing water rained down on me from over the partition. I was soaked to the bone, the water smelling faintly of sewage. Shrill laughter echoed off the tiles. “Harper, just beg for mercy and we’ll let you out.” “How is a mute supposed to beg?” “She can get on her knees!” “Hahaha!” The laughter outside grew louder. 8 I didn’t have my phone on me. I had to get myself out of this mess. Fine. Game on. I calmly wiped the filthy water from my eyes, hiked up my ruined dress, stepped onto the toilet tank, hoisted myself over the partition, and dropped down into the empty stall next door. I had always wondered what it would be like to use a mop dipped in toilet water. Thanks for giving me the perfect opportunity, ladies. I grabbed the dirty mop from the corner, soaked it straight into the toilet bowl, and swung it with everything I had. Honestly, even the Pope wasn’t this generous with holy water. I baptized every single one of them. The girls shrieked, their faces pale with horror as they scrambled away. “Help! That’s so gross!” “Somebody stop her!” “Harper, are you insane?!” I smirked: No shit, Sherlock. You have to be crazy to deal with bitches like you. 9 After the gala ended, Bella tried to play the victim. She ran crying to Silas, claiming I attacked her with a filthy mop. “Mr. Sinclair, Harper just lost her mind and started hitting us!” She held out her stained red dress. “Look at what she did to my clothes…” I stared at her terrible acting and rolled my eyes: Keep going. Keep crying. It’s a crime you don’t have an Oscar yet. Bella wiped away fake tears, playing the poor, innocent girl to perfection. Before she could even finish her sob story, Silas walked right past her. He took off his custom suit jacket and draped it gently over my shivering shoulders. He turned to Bella, his voice lethal. “What exactly did you say to provoke her?” Bella froze. “…What?” Silas wrapped an arm around my waist, his tone absolute. “Harper is quiet and incredibly level-headed. You must have said something completely out of line, otherwise she would never act like that.” “And look at her face. Are you trying to tell me she hit herself?” “Apologize to her.” Seeing Silas defend me so fiercely, Bella realized she had lost. Through gritted teeth, she muttered: “I’m. Sorry. Harper.” 10 I never expected Silas to stand up for me like that. After Bella stormed off, I looked up at him with a soft smile and signed: Thank you. Meanwhile, my mind was going wild: God, I just want to pin you to a bed and thank you properly. Silas: “…” He reached out, his hand hovering over my cheek. Clearly afraid of hurting me, his fingers simply rested near my bruised skin for a second. “Does it hurt?” I was fine a second ago, but the moment he asked, a huge wave of unfairness washed over me. I bit my lip hard, fighting back tears: Don’t cry. Don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt at all. It’s not like I haven’t been hit before. Pain go away, pain go away. I shook my head and signed: I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt. Silas gently smoothed my wet hair. “Let’s go home.” It was the first time he had ever been that gentle with me. 11 That bucket of dirty water successfully gave me a fever. But my mind was still sharp. I was lying in bed, bored out of my mind, when Silas walked into my room. He pressed the back of his hand against my forehead. “Still burning up.” I gave him a seductive smile. Get in bed with me, and I’ll be even hotter. Silas’s expression instantly morphed into something indescribable. He stood up. Just as I thought he was going to walk out, he pulled back the covers and gently lay down right next to me. Me: “???” Pure survival instinct kicked in. I scrambled to the far edge of the mattress, creating distance between us. Seeing me run away, his brows furrowed in annoyance. “What are you hiding from?” I nervously signed: What are you doing? He didn’t answer. He just reached out, yanked me right back into the middle of the bed, and tucked the blankets tightly around me, like he was afraid I’d bolt again. He ordered, “Close your eyes. Sleep.” I obediently shut my eyes, but my mind was racing: What does this mean? Is he trying to test-drive a girl with a 102-degree fever? I’m totally going to die of a heart attack. As much as I wanted to sleep with him, now that it was actually happening, I was terrified. … The room was completely silent. I cracked one eye open just a sliver and saw Silas resting with his eyes closed. The morning light hit his face, making his sharp features look clean and relaxed. Just as I was staring at him in a daze, Silas suddenly opened his eyes. “Just go to sleep. I’m not going to do anything.” I let out a huge breath of relief and nodded like a good girl: Oh, so we’re literally just sleeping. Good thing he’s not a total animal. Silas tightened his arm around my waist. Feeling safe, I finally drifted off to sleep. 12 Sometime in the middle of the night, my fever broke, leaving me drenched in cold sweat. The sticky, uncomfortable feeling made me pull off my pajama top in my sleep. I rolled over and crashed right into a warm chest. That firm, smooth feeling… Whoa. Abs. I splayed both hands out and squeezed hard. A second later, I heard Silas mutter in his sleep, “Be gentle…” Holy shit! My eyes flew open. I bolted upright in panic. Silas flinched, waking up instantly. His arm automatically reached for my back. His voice was thick with sleep. “What’s wrong?” I was sitting there in absolutely nothing but my underwear, violently shivering. Internally, I was shrieking: Ahhhhhh! Silas hastily turned on the lamp to check on me. I pushed him away, desperately wrapping the thick duvet around my body. Silas leaned in close. “What happened? Does something hurt?” I shook my head frantically, scooting further back against the headboard. I pointed frantically at the door, telling him to leave. Go! Get out! Just go! Silas stared at me. A cold smirk pulled at his lips. “You’re kicking me out?” “Where’s all that courage you had when you told me to swing it?” Tch… Looking all pink and cute, but holding onto a grudge like a psycho. My face was burning up, my head spinning. I had no choice but to play the pity card. I put on my most fragile, helpless expression and signed: I’m really sick right now. It would be terrible if you caught my bug. You should probably sleep in your own room. Silas stared at me in dead silence. Why isn’t he reacting? Did he not understand my signs? I slowly, deliberately signed it a second time. “I understood you perfectly,” he said. Silas got out of bed and walked out the door. “I’m leaving, okay?” Me: “?” Why did he sound so incredibly offended? 13 My parents heard I was sick and made a special trip to the Sinclair estate to “visit.” After three minutes of fake pleasantries, they got right down to business: my marriage. My mom grabbed my hand, putting on her most serious, motherly voice. “Harper, are things okay between you and Mr. Sinclair?” “If you two aren’t happy, it’s better to just get a divorce sooner rather than later.” My dad nodded vigorously in agreement. “Exactly, exactly.” “Your sister has always loved Mr. Sinclair. She’s far more suited for a position like this.” “Just come home. Stop embarrassing him.” These two were tag-teaming me, practically begging me to divorce my own husband. Hmph. I knew they didn’t actually care about my health. I shook my head firmly and signed my rejection: I don’t want a divorce. I hadn’t even slept with the man yet. Why the hell would I divorce him now? Seeing me refuse, their masks immediately slipped. My dad pointed a finger right in my face and started yelling: “You don’t want to?” “You don’t get a say in this marriage!” “If Mr. Sinclair didn’t have a thing for quiet girls, do you really think a mute like you would be living like this?!” I held my ground: I’m not signing anything. My dad gritted his teeth. “You little…!” Realizing they couldn’t bully me into it, they marched straight up to the study to talk to Silas. I crept down the hallway and pressed my ear to the heavy oak door. Inside, Silas stayed quiet for a very long time, making my anxiety spike. He didn’t exactly like me. What if he really wanted out? Especially considering how often I sexually harassed him. A minute later, Silas’s voice finally cut through the tension. He spoke calmly, firmly. “Harper and I are very happy together. Divorce is completely off the table.” 14 His answer left me stunned. Happy? Who was happy? Did Silas actually enjoy me constantly bothering him? My parents were still desperately trying to change his mind: “Mr. Sinclair, please. Our youngest can’t even speak. It damages your public image.” “And she’s a troublemaker. We heard she offended the Roth family just the other day.” “I’m sure she herself feels unworthy of you.” “And besides…” I didn’t stick around to listen to the rest. I went back to my bedroom to wait for the fallout. About half an hour later, Silas practically kicked my bedroom door open. His first words were: “Harper Bennett, you want a divorce?” Huh? Why is he so pissed? Seeing him so worked up was fascinating. On a whim, I decided to mess with him: Since you don’t really like me, I don’t want to hold you back. Let’s just part ways peacefully. Internally, I was totally chill about it: If we divorce, we divorce. If I can’t eat this piece of meat, I’ll just find another restaurant. Silas glared at me in silence for a solid minute before gritting out: “You were desperate to get into my bed. You tried every trick in the book to get close to me, and now you’re bored already?” Yep. I’m just a fickle girl who likes shiny new things. I forced a single, dramatic tear to roll down my cheek and signed: I’m sorry. Silas let out a dark, mocking laugh. “Perfect.” He turned on his heel and stormed out. “Just you wait!”

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The moment Tessa laid eyes on me at the Vanguard Corp. interview, she completely fell apart. It all started with the concert I’d been dreaming of for months. The night tickets went on sale, I pulled an all-nighter, but my frantic clicking was for nothing. They sold out in seconds. Gritting my teeth, I ended up forking over an extra four hundred dollars to a scalper for a floor seat. The next morning, I was jolted awake by the grim look on my roommate Tessa’s face. She was standing over my bed, her voice a low hiss. “Are you insane? Spending nine hundred dollars on a concert ticket?” I tried to explain patiently that my parents were fine with it, that it was my allowance to spend on things that made me happy. But her voice shot up, accusing me of being spoiled and thoughtless. She even threw out a sleazy warning about “girls who’d do anything for a designer bag,” telling me I needed to remember my “self-worth.” The night before the concert, my phone buzzed with a notification: Ticket refund successful. A moment later, an email from my academic advisor landed in my inbox. The attached grade report showed that I, who had always been at the top of my class, had failed several core subjects. Frantic, I ran to find Tessa, who was our department’s student representative. She just smirked at me. “Aren’t you just here for a good time, Sophie? What’s the rush?” Then, with a voice dripping in acid, she added, “Funny how the ones who act so innocent are always the ones with the most dirt.” Now, watching her stand here before me, utterly flustered and lost, the irony is almost too much to bear. 1 After finals wrapped up, I spent the entire night trying to snag a ticket for the concert I’d been waiting for all year. They were gone in a flash. Just as I was about to give up, a post popped up on social media—a friend of a friend was selling a floor ticket. The last one. My parents had just dropped fifty grand into my account for “expenses,” so I didn’t hesitate. I immediately offered four hundred dollars over the asking price and secured it. The next morning, I was still half-asleep when I felt a pair of eyes burning into me. I cracked mine open to see my roommate, Tessa, leaning deep into my curtained-off bunk, staring at me with an unnerving intensity. I jolted upright. “Tessa? What are you doing?” A chill crawled up my spine. “You didn’t go to sleep until 4:35 a.m., Sophie,” she said, her voice low and accusatory. “What were you doing up to, being all sneaky?” My bed curtains were drawn. How could she possibly know the exact time I fell asleep? Her dark, hollow gaze made my skin crawl. “Oh, uh, I was trying to get concert tickets,” I mumbled, trying to brush it off. “The show is next month. Can you move? I need to get up.” I gestured for her to get off my bed, but she acted as if she hadn’t heard me. Instead, she plopped right down on the edge of my mattress, her expression a strange mix of pity and amusement. She patted my shoulder. “Don’t play dumb. You stayed up all night for a concert ticket? Seriously, there’s nothing special about them. You can listen to any song you want online for free. It’s a total waste of money.” She wasn’t done. “Besides, it’s not easy to earn money these days. You really want to be one of those suckers throwing cash at celebrities? That’s your parents’ hard-earned money you’re burning!” I fought down a wave of irritation and climbed out the other side of the bed. “Tessa, you don’t need to worry about it. Finals are over, and I’m ready to relax. It’s not that expensive, and the experience is worth it to me.” I added, “And my parents are going with me. They love concerts too.” That seemed to set her off. “Not that expensive? I never took you for such a materialistic person! Your parents might spoil you now, but the real world won’t be so kind!” I almost laughed. Did this girl have any concept of boundaries? “Nine hundred bucks for one show? What a waste. Whoever marries you is in for a world of trouble.” She spat out the exact number, down to the dollar. My other roommates glanced over, their eyes wide. “Whoa, that’s a lot, Sophie. You sure you didn’t get ripped off?” one of them asked. How did she know the exact amount I paid on my own phone? I took a deep breath, about to explain I got it from a trusted source, when Tessa let out a cold snort. “Oh, a few hundred dollars is nothing to Sophie. She has her ways of getting money from men.” That was it. I’d had enough. I shoved her off my bed. “What did you just say, Tessa? It’s my money, what does it have to do with you? Don’t push your luck!” Tessa was not only our student rep but also a micro-influencer with a decent following. She was used to being the one in charge, the one nobody talked back to. My public defiance made her face flush a deep, blotchy red. “Whatever. There’s no talking to people like you,” she huffed, turning away. “I was just trying to be nice. Why do you have to pretend to be such a goody-two-shoes all the time?” I ignored her and headed to the cafeteria. But when I got back to the dorm, I found her hunched over my bed, her hand darting around under my pillow. She was so focused she didn’t hear me come in. “What are you doing?” I demanded. 2 Tessa yelped, startled. She quickly snatched her hand back, hiding whatever she was holding. “God, Sophie, can’t you walk like a normal person?” she snapped, her voice shaking. She was the one doing something shady, but somehow, I was the one in the wrong? My brows knitted together. “What were you looking for in my bed? You can’t just go through my things without my permission.” Tessa rolled her eyes, her face a mask of annoyance. “Do you have a persecution complex or something? You think you’re so special? Nobody wants to touch your stupid stuff!” With that, she stormed out of the room. That afternoon, during our department meeting, Tessa leaned against the whiteboard, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on me. “Lately, there have been a lot of stories online about college girls selling their bodies to feed their vanity,” she announced to the room, her voice dripping with meaning. “We should all learn from their mistakes and uphold our integrity.” She tilted her chin in my direction. “Right, Sophie?” A few of the guys in the class snickered, their laughter grating on my nerves. I saw a couple of them looking me up and down with smug, knowing smiles. I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to explode. “Who are you trying to call out, Tessa?” I said through gritted teeth. “Show some respect.” She pretended not to hear me. “You all probably don’t know this, but Sophie spent nine hundred dollars on a single concert ticket. Her skincare products cost thousands, all imported. Even her underwear is designer, costing hundreds!” Oh my god, this woman had absolutely no shame. A hot, uncontrollable rage surged through me. I kicked back my chair and shot to my feet. “What is wrong with you? Who talks about their roommate’s private life in front of the entire class? If you can’t control that mouth of yours, I swear I’ll shut it for you!” Tessa just smirked, her voice rising with excitement. “As student representative, I propose that her academic scholarship be revoked and the money divided among the students on financial aid! Sophie can clearly afford it; that three-thousand-dollar scholarship is less than what she spends on a concert ticket!” She paused for dramatic effect. “But for students like us, that money means more hot meals. It means less of a burden on our families!” Tessa was on financial aid. In fact, her entire influencer persona was built around being a poor, hardworking student who was pulling herself up by her bootstraps. Her sob story had gained her a lot of sympathy online. As soon as she finished, a murmur of agreement spread through the classroom. Divide my scholarship? Without even asking me? I was furious. I grabbed the nearest textbook and hurled it at her. “Are you deaf? I earned that scholarship with my grades! It has nothing to do with you. What gives you the right to give it away?” I then turned to the rest of the class. “And don’t you dare try to guilt-trip me! There are programs for students who need financial assistance. If you want money, earn it with your own merit!” After my outburst, I stormed out of the room, leaving Tessa fuming and stomping her foot behind me. As I crossed the main campus quad, I saw a large poster for Vanguard Corp.’s on-campus recruitment drive. The anger I’d just started to let go of came roaring back. I had been the one to convince Alexander Knight to hold a trial recruitment event at our university, begging and pleading with him to give my classmates a chance at a top-tier company. And this was the thanks I got. Fine. If they were going to be like that, I didn’t need to waste my energy. I pulled out my phone and dialed Alex’s number. His assistant, Mark, picked up. When I told him to cancel the campus recruitment drive, he agreed without hesitation. “Honestly, Mrs. Knight, the candidate pool wasn’t quite aligned with the corporation’s needs anyway. It’s better to cancel before we officially begin. Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything.” “Oh, and by the way, Mrs. Knight,” he added, “Mr. Knight knows you’re going to the concert. He had a dress custom-made for you. I’ll have it delivered later today.” “Thanks, Mark. Tell Alex to call me when he’s free.” Hanging up, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. No more trying to do good deeds for ungrateful people. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. I glanced down and saw a notification that made my stomach drop. [Dear Ms. Reed, your ticket refund has been processed successfully!] What the hell? I’d stayed up all night for that ticket. There was no way I would have refunded it. I was about to call the ticketing agency when a message from our academic advisor popped up in the group chat. It was a picture of the final rankings for the semester. My eyes scanned the list, and my heart stopped. I, who had never placed below first in my entire college career, was now at the bottom of the list. 3 I rushed to my advisor’s office, certain there had been a mistake with the system. My academic record had been flawless since my freshman year. I’d even felt I performed better than usual on these finals. How could my rank have plummeted so drastically? The moment I stepped into her office, I noticed the strange way my advisor was looking at me. There was a hint of disdain in her eyes. It was unsettling, but I was determined to sort this out. After carefully reviewing the grade sheet, I knew something was wrong. “Professor, these scores can’t be right,” I said, pointing to the paper. “How did I get a 49 in English? I have the highest proficiency score in our entire class.” My advisor, who was usually warm and supportive, was uncharacteristically cold. “Don’t you ever have an off day, Sophie? When something goes wrong, you should look for the cause within yourself, not immediately blame the system or your teachers.” Her tone sharpened. “And about that letter of recommendation for your study abroad application… I can’t write it for you anymore. Sophie, I have to say, a young woman needs to have some self-respect.” Her words left me completely bewildered. What did she mean, no self-respect? Connecting her strange attitude with Tessa’s recent hostility, a sickening suspicion began to form in my mind. I found Tessa and confronted her. “What did you do?” Tessa simply arched an eyebrow. “I submitted lower scores for you. So what? As the student rep, I have the authority. I was just ensuring a level playing field for everyone else.” Her voice was laced with a chilling self-righteousness. “The interview spot at Vanguard Corp. should go to someone who truly has the skills, not some gold-digging tramp like you!” So that was it. The internship. Tessa must have heard some rumor that the top-ranked student in our department would automatically get an interview with Vanguard. Too bad for her, she’d based her entire scheme on a lie. Tessa knew I was in the middle of applying to graduate programs abroad, that every single grade was crucial for my application. Yet she’d abused her position to knock me out of the running, all for the sake of some twisted idea of “fairness.” “I told the advisor everything,” she continued, her voice dripping with venom. “About your messy private life, how you stay up every night sexting with some guy. All those designer clothes you wear… they’re from your sugar daddy, aren’t they? If I were your parents, I’d die of shame.” Her words were getting more and more vicious. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had been patient for days, but I was done being a doormat. I raised my hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. “Are you sick in the head?” I seethed. “You spend all your time in the dorm spying on me. Are you that pathetic? The man I’m talking to every night is my husband, you psycho. So keep your filthy mouth shut!” Tessa clutched her cheek, her eyes wide with shock. “Don’t give me that crap! That guy sends you thousands of dollars at a time. If that’s not being a sugar baby, what is?” I almost laughed. The playful little money transfers Alex and I sent each other were, in her twisted mind, evidence of me being a kept woman.

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My relationship with Ryan Maxwell had been a secret for eight years. Today, April Fool’s Day, a popular streamer and host, Sierra Thorne, publicly tagged Ryan online, posting a photo of them holding hands. Her caption claimed he was hers, both in-game and out. The internet exploded. This “girl-chases-boy” pairing instantly topped the trending charts, with fans showering them with blessings. I immediately called Ryan, but he casually dismissed it, saying it was just Sierra’s April Fool’s joke for her fans, and she’d delete it tomorrow. Then, I heard Sierra’s voice in the background, laced with mockery, saying I was being a sore loser, taking an April Fool’s joke seriously. The surrounding chatter blurred. I stared at the new jungle pathing analysis I’d just finished writing on my desk, and suddenly, the past eight years of my dedication felt utterly meaningless. I tore up the analysis paper. Calmly, I told Ryan to go public with their relationship; there was no need to delete the post. 1 Silence hung on the other end for a moment. Then, I heard the voices of Ryan’s teammates: “Seriously? Max, your girlfriend is such a drama queen.” “You have me on speaker?” I realized. Everyone had heard what I said. “Yeah. Everyone was having a good time until your call ruined it.” Ryan’s voice held a hint of annoyance. “I’ll talk to you properly when I get home tonight. Can you please stop making such a big deal out of it? Sierra was just kidding.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and said faintly, “Whatever. We’re done.” Then, I hung up, rubbing my aching stomach. Ever since he won the world championship last year, Sierra had been openly pursuing him. He’d gone from actively avoiding her and even refusing her interviews to openly flirting and bantering with her on camera. Everyone called them the sweetest open secret in esports. Every boundary-crossing act, he’d dismissed as “just a joke.” On April Fool’s Day, he even went along with an “official announcement” joke. I, his real girlfriend, who had been with him for eight years, from his unknown days in the academy team to reaching the pinnacle of the world stage and winning the World Championship – a girlfriend he had never once mentioned on stage – felt like the real joke. He wouldn’t have even ranked first in the European server, let alone joined a pro academy team, if it weren’t for my work. 2 I sat on the sofa from afternoon until dark. He didn’t come back for me. In the past, he would have rushed home immediately, but this time, he didn’t. It wasn’t until nine that evening when Ryan finally returned. He reeked faintly of alcohol and pulled me into his arms without a word. “Still mad, babe? I already told Sierra to delete the post and make a statement saying it was a fake prank. Don’t be mad anymore, okay?” After he spoke, I took out my phone to check. Sierra had indeed posted: [That last post was fake, haha (someone’s shy QWQ)! Happy April Fool’s, everyone! P.S. Hope I can post the same thing next Valentine’s Day, meow~] The accompanying picture was a selfie of her with her arms around Ryan’s neck, their faces pressed close together. Looking at the almost provocative caption and selfie, I just had to laugh bitterly. I wriggled out of his embrace and sat up. “You really think her post is okay?” He sat up too, his previously gentle expression hardening. “What’s wrong? Didn’t she say it was fake? Why are you being so nitpicky?” “Am I being nitpicky?” My eyes instantly welled up. Staring at Ryan’s face, a face I had loved for eight years, a bitter ache of injustice filled my heart. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” He said, his face cold. “The girl’s just a bit lively, likes interacting with her fans. And fans love it; it brings me more hype and endorsement deals. What can you do now besides act like a nagging old woman? Just compete with other women?” “Have I ever made you work these past few years? Haven’t I been supporting you? Sierra graduated from a top university, she’s a famous gaming host. You just have to pick on her,” he sneered. “You’re not just jealous she’s better than you, are you?” The moment he finished speaking, I slapped him across the face, my voice trembling. “Get out! Without me, would you have achieved what you have today?” He stood there, his face icy, and left me with one last remark: “Don’t get ahead of yourself just because you play a few games. Have you ever played in a real competition?” With that, he slammed the door, leaving me shaking with rage. 3 Eight years ago, he said he wanted to be a pro gamer, not work a regular job. Because I loved the same game as him, I also wanted him to achieve his dream. So, I started working during the day and spent my evenings helping him analyze patches and figure out the best jungle routes. Because of me, he successfully joined the academy team. The first year, his income was minimal. His family didn’t support him, so our living expenses depended entirely on my meager salary. Ryan told me that once he made a name for himself, he would never let me suffer again. He promised to take care of me, forbidding me from working. Then, armed with my research, he ranked day and night. Until the transfer period, his era finally arrived. When he signed his big contract, he hugged me, spinning me around our tiny rented apartment several times. He said, “My darling Nora, you’re amazing! Way better than those clueless coaches now! Quit your crummy job; you’ll be my personal coach from now on!” Back then, I thought we needed each other. So I quit my job, helped him with replays, accompanied him in ranked games. While others had an off-season, he always had his private training sessions with me. Not wanting to add to his pressure, I secretly took on some coaching and boosting jobs to earn money for our living expenses. His prize money, he saved, planning for our future wedding. Later, he grew stronger and stronger, becoming a true golden-tier jungler. Tears soaked my pillow; I could barely breathe from the sadness. How could he say I was completely dependent on him? Hadn’t we achieved this together? I believed he was sincere then, but I never expected sincerity to be so fleeting. The Ryan who used to care for me was truly gone. I tried to fall asleep quickly, but my stomach ache kept me awake. Helpless, I opened my phone. And saw Sierra had posted on her social media. A picture. Her hand, blowing someone’s hair dry. The person’s face wasn’t visible, but I knew him intimately. [Found a stray puppy. Others didn’t want him, so I’ll gladly take him in~] I liked the post and commented: [Trash really needs a trash can.] 4 I finally managed to fall asleep, only to be woken at 2 AM by a frantic call. “Nora, are you out of your mind? You can insult me, but why insult Sierra?” “You told me to get lost in the middle of the night. I had nowhere to go, and Sierra kindly took me in. Nothing happened between us. She just posted on social media, why are you insulting her?” “Our issues are between us; don’t drag innocent people into it, okay? Nora, after all this time, I never knew you were like this!” He yelled at me, and then I heard a woman’s muffled sobs from his end. He whispered soothingly, “Don’t cry. I’ll make her apologize to you, okay? Come on, wipe your tears, you’re like a little kitten.” “I… I don’t need an apology… I know his old lady is mad at me, so insulting me is… is deserved…” She stammered, sobbing, “But why would she insult you… You’ve supported her for so long… and I’ve been so good to you… yet you never even look at me… I feel bad for you… it’s not fair!” With them so deeply in love, I felt like the villain, blocking their romance. “Nora, apologize to Sierra.” My voice was hoarse. “No way. Do whatever you want, just don’t bother me anymore.” “Then get out of the house I bought!” He said it, then froze himself. I didn’t speak for a long time, feeling as if it was hard to breathe. This house, we bought it together, but I hadn’t paid as much as he did. Yet, he’d put my name on the deed. He’d promised: This is our marital home. Once bought, it’s yours. Not even I have the right to make you leave. If we argue, you can kick me out. But now, for another woman, he was taking back the security he’d given me. His voice softened, sounding tired. “Apologize to Sierra, and we’ll pretend nothing happened and stay together. Even though you’re upset, you also slapped me, so we’re even.” “I’ll sign the house over to you tomorrow.” My voice was terribly hoarse. “I don’t care for it anymore.” 5 I had no home left in this country. With tears in my eyes, I called my mom. “Mom, I want to come home.” As if knowing I was hurting, she said nothing, only asked, “Do you have money for a plane ticket?” I was sobbing uncontrollably, my vision blurred with tears as I bought a plane ticket to leave the country in three days. The next day, with swollen eyes, I arrived at the property transfer office. The line was long. I sat and waited for a while before Ryan finally showed up, fashionably late. Sierra followed him, dressed glamorously. When she saw me, a flicker of disdain crossed her eyes. Ryan frowned deeply. “You’ve been crying?” He gritted his teeth. “You just had to cause a scene. We could have made up yesterday, but now you’ve made yourself so miserable.” He took my hand. “Alright, let’s go home. Stop this.” But my gaze immediately fell on his empty wrist. I instantly retorted: “Where’s the red string? The red string we got together? Did you throw that away too?” He froze. Sierra spoke up then: “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was important to you guys. I thought it was just a regular string, so I threw it away.” I closed my eyes, then quietly told Ryan: “We went to the Temple of Serenity together for that. It had some of my hair in it.” If the hair was lost, the owner would suffer bad luck. We were young then, believing in those old tales, believing we would be together forever. The one with his hair, I wore on my wrist, never taking it off except to shower. “If you didn’t want it, you could have given it back to me. Why throw it away?” My nose burned. “You knew I cared about that the most!” “Alright, it’s just a string. Sierra didn’t do it on purpose. I’ll get you a hundred more, okay?” He sounded impatient. “Why do you always care about these unimportant, useless things?” “Because I love you!” I roared, then collapsed onto the chair, muttering, “But now, I don’t. Not even a little bit.” I tore off the red string from my wrist and tossed it into a nearby trash can, along with my last shred of hope. Ryan stared for a long time, his eyes reddening. Then he said coldly, “Fine. Fine then. If you don’t love me, get lost. No need to bother each other anymore.” I wiped away my tears and looked at him. “I can live without you, but what about you?” He was used to me meticulously handing him all my research, used to me staying up all night helping him find the meta. What would he, the lazy one, do if I left? Finally, our turn came. In front of me, as if out of spite from my words, Ryan transferred the house deed to Sierra. She looked overjoyed, then worriedly spoke: “I truly didn’t realize my feelings would cause such a big impact on you two.” I couldn’t be bothered with her fake sincerity. Just as I was about to turn and leave, someone, appearing out of nowhere, shoved me to the ground. The pain in my abdomen nearly overwhelmed me. The person wasn’t done, kicking me and yelling, “Why are you trying to ruin Sierra and God Ryan’s love? Are you that pathetic?!” Ryan grabbed her, about to retaliate, but Sierra chose that moment to fall. Ryan immediately let go to help her up, and the attacker fled. After helping Sierra up, he finally came to help me. “Hospital… take me to the hospital…” Eight years of a relationship, he couldn’t even help me with this last small favor. He picked me up, but Sierra tugged at his sleeve: “Weren’t you going to help me pick out a kitten? The pet store will close soon…” I clutched Ryan’s collar, but after a glance at me, he slowly placed me back on the bench. “Just a push, it shouldn’t be too serious,” he said softly. “Take a taxi yourself. I’ll reimburse you.” My heart plummeted into an icy abyss. I watched helplessly as Ryan and Sierra walked further and further away, step by step. Sierra looked back at me, a mocking smile on her face.

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When I announced to Lana that I wanted a divorce, the room froze. My father-in-law frowned, asking if it was because she was always locked in her art studio. I said it wasn’t that—it was what she was doing with the replica of the Statue of David. My mother-in-law exploded, shouting that Lana had severe postpartum depression, that she was just painting, and that we could hire a nanny if needed. Lana, livid, slapped me and swore she hadn’t cheated or betrayed me—she’d just been absorbed in her art lately. Was that really grounds for divorce? The guests whispered, giving me disgusted looks. I laughed coldly and pointed at her studio door. I told them the truth: since she claimed that sculpted marble was the only thing that satisfied her, I was letting her have it. The truth was, she never let me inside. In the center of the room stood a life-sized David. Ever since giving birth two months ago, she’d become obsessed with sketching it. She spent almost every day locked in there, surrounded by crumpled paper, unfazed even by our crying newborn. I’d had enough of this twisted charade. That’s why I served the papers. … I slammed the freshly printed divorce agreement onto the dining table. “Sign it.” Lana stared at me, utterly horrified, tears already pooling in her eyes. “Silas!” “Have you completely lost your mind? So what if I’ve been busy painting this month? I admit I neglected you, and I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay?” She practically shrieked, playing the absolute victim. “Did you really have to bring up a divorce in front of all our friends and family?” I lifted my gaze and scanned the room. Today was our fifth wedding anniversary. Lana had used the occasion to throw a lavish dinner party at our house, claiming it was just an excuse for our loved ones to get together. Yet from the moment the night began, her eyes never once landed on me. She even locked arms and drank a toast with her childhood best friend, Blake, completely ignoring her own husband. I realized right then that dragging this dead marriage out was pointless. “Since you don’t want to make a massive scene in front of our guests, just be a good girl and sign the damn papers.” I dropped the icy ultimatum, absolutely drained of the desire to argue. A suffocating silence smothered the dining room. The guests exchanged incredibly awkward glances. For the past five years, everyone in our social circle believed we were the perfect, untouchable couple. Lana’s face drained of all color. Her shoulders trembled violently as she put on her best wounded expression. “I am begging you.” She stepped close to me, keeping her voice to a desperate, tearful whisper. “Silas, whatever your problem is, we can talk about it when everyone leaves. Please don’t do this here. You’re scaring my parents.” I violently shoved her hand away. “Do not touch me.” Seeing my hostile reaction, the mood in the room instantly turned toxic. Everyone glared at me with blatant disgust. My father-in-law slammed his wine glass onto the table. My mother-in-law’s face morphed into a vicious scowl. Lana stumbled back from my push, conveniently collapsing right into the waiting arms of her precious childhood buddy, Blake. “Silas, are you even a man?!” Blake completely lost it. He stepped forward, veins popping in his neck as he pointed a finger at my face. “Did you forget that Lana carried your baby for nine months? Her stomach is covered in stretch marks! She hasn’t slept a full night in a year!” “Did you forget that your complete lack of support gave her severe postpartum depression? She almost threw herself off a balcony! Her therapist literally told her she needed isolation and a creative outlet to heal!” “Now that she’s finally finding peace in her art, why the hell are you tormenting her?” “The baby is born, and now you think her stretch marks are ugly. You think her body is ruined, so you want to throw her away. You ungrateful, disgusting piece of trash! Have you no shame?!” Blake stood high on his moral pedestal, painting me as the ultimate villain of the century. Curses and a flying fist came straight for my jaw. But before his knuckles could even graze my skin, I easily slipped to the side. I stared him down, a chilling smirk creeping onto my lips. “My wife has stretch marks on her stomach. How exactly do you know that? Are you two…” Blake immediately panicked. “It is common medical knowledge! Ask any adult in this room, who doesn’t know that?” The guests around the table nodded in agreement, buying his pathetic cover-up. My father-in-law put on a stern face, trying to play the wise elder. “Silas, you cannot be this impulsive in a marriage. My daughter lost half her life giving you a child. This is the universe testing your bond. You have always been a stand-up guy. Don’t be a coward when things get tough.” My mother-in-law crossed her arms, letting out a loud, accusatory snort. “I always knew men were garbage. Asking for a divorce out of nowhere? I bet he has some little tramp waiting for him in a hotel room.” “Spit it out! Who is the home-wrecker? Is she forcing you to make her your legal wife? Is that why you’re torturing my daughter?” She aggressively rolled up her sleeves, looking entirely ready for a physical brawl. She patted Lana’s shoulder. “Don’t you worry, sweetie. Mom will handle the mistress.” I laughed out loud. It was a bitter, hollow sound. “The problem was never on my end.” “You can spin whatever fairy tale you want, but this divorce is happening today.” Lana’s eyes were swollen like walnuts. She took a deep breath, stepping forward to grab my hands. “Honey, please tell me what went wrong. You were never like this. Did you forget the vows we made at the altar? For better or for worse, in sickness and in health…” Watching her play the deeply devoted wife literally made my stomach turn. “Enough. Drop the act.” “Get the hell away from me!” I shoved Lana back with pure disgust. She let out a dramatic gasp, falling weakly to the hardwood floor, intentionally scraping her elbow. “Silas, I have had enough of your bullshit!” Blake’s face twisted in furious jealousy. He aimed a lethal glare at me. “If you dare divorce Lana today, I swear to God I will cripple you.” “I would rather Lana be a widow than let an ungrateful parasite like you drag her name through the mud!” Blake completely lost his temper. He charged at me like a raging bull, trying to tackle me to the floor and beat me to a pulp. I just chuckled darkly. “This is an issue between a husband and a wife. Why are you sweating so much? Who gave you the right to speak?” “We grew up together! I am practically her brother!” Blake spat the words like venom. I smirked. “The kind of brother that shares her bed?” “You’re full of shit!” “Your own mind is filthy, so you project it onto everyone else.” While he was busy acting morally outraged, I threw a devastating counter-hook. My movement was fast, brutal, and precise. Blake loved to show off his eight-pack abs on Instagram, but those were just gym muscles. He had absolutely no idea that I had spent years in a boxing ring. Watching her precious boy get manhandled, Lana let out a blood-curdling scream. “Silas, stop it!” “You’re going to severely injure him!” Seeing me lock my arm around Blake’s throat, watching his face turn a violent shade of purple as he choked for air, Lana panicked completely. In her frantic state, she grabbed a heavy, antique crystal decanter from the dinner table. She swung it with everything she had, smashing it directly into the back of my skull. The dining room erupted into absolute chaos. Guests screamed in sheer terror. “Oh my God! So much blood!” “Call an ambulance!” Warm, thick liquid cascaded down the side of my face, stinging my eyes. My vision blurred rapidly, the screaming fading into a muffled, underwater echo. Through the ringing in my ears, I heard Lana’s trembling, pathetic voice. “Honey, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean it!” “I was just terrified you were going to kill him… I didn’t want you to go to prison for murder…” “I already called 911!” As my knees buckled and darkness swallowed me, I knew there was a bitter, mocking smile plastered on my face. Look at this. Look at my amazing, loving wife. To protect her childhood bestie, she cracked my skull open with a heavy piece of crystal. When I finally opened my eyes again, the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room blinded me. My head throbbed with an agonizing, explosive pain. “Silas, please don’t move.” “They just put fifteen stitches in your head…” I squeezed my eyes shut, letting out a dry chuckle. “Did you sign the divorce papers yet?” “The second I am discharged, we are going straight to the courthouse to finalize this.” Lana’s fake weeping stopped instantly. “Why are you still talking about a divorce?!” She stared at me in absolute disbelief, massive tears dropping onto the back of my hand. “Silas, I love you so much. The moment you got hurt, I was the one who called the ambulance! What kind of spell are you under?!” I couldn’t hold back my bitter laugh. “You love me? So you smashed my skull open with a crystal decanter?” If that was her version of love, I would rather she loved literally any other man on earth. My rhetorical question choked her up. She scrambled to defend herself. “Silas, that was pure instinct in a terrifying situation! You looked possessed! You were strangling Blake to death, and you terrified all of us.” “You know my family and his family have been neighbors for decades. Blake and I grew up together. We have known each other since we were in diapers.” “He was just trying to help us! He wanted to fix our marriage, and you said those vile, disgusting things to him!” “Shut up.” I cut her off with a voice made of ice. “Spin whatever lies you want. I am done listening. My answer remains the same. Divorce.” Even my in-laws, who had been eavesdropping at the hospital room door, exchanged uneasy glances. They clearly hadn’t expected me to be this ruthlessly decisive. They pushed the door open and barged in. “Silas, you are normally a very level-headed guy. Tell me the truth. Did Lana do something to break your heart? You tell me, and I will discipline her myself.” The person speaking was my father-in-law, attempting to play the good cop. But it was entirely a facade. Before I could even open my mouth, he flipped the script. “Or is there another woman in the picture?” “We are both men here. Do not let some young, flashy girl ruin your judgment and destroy the rest of your life.” My mother-in-law’s expression turned incredibly impatient as she chimed in. “Exactly. Married couples fight all the time. You argue at the dinner table and make up in the bedroom. Stop throwing a childish tantrum.” “A real man needs to have some capacity for forgiveness.” “If you scream for a divorce every time you get a little upset, how are you ever going to survive a marriage?” Lana suddenly displayed an unnatural amount of patience. She gently held my hand, leaning in close. “Honey, what kind of trouble are you in? Tell us. We are a family, we can fix it together.” “You are so insanely determined to get a divorce. Are you… suspecting something?” Beneath her cautious, fragile gaze, I saw a terrifying undercurrent of raw panic. Yet the tears just kept rolling flawlessly down her cheeks. “No matter what kind of mess you are in, I will never abandon you. You don’t have to push me away to protect me.” I stared at her, my face devoid of all emotion. Over the years we had been together, her tears used to be my ultimate weakness. Whenever she cried, I surrendered. Whatever she asked for, I gave her. She wanted to convert the massive guest room into her private art studio? I agreed. She hung a sign on the studio door that read “No Silas and No Dogs Allowed”? I laughed it off and let her have her space. But right now, I was done turning a blind eye. “There is nothing left to say, Lana. I just don’t love you anymore.” Lana flinched like she had been struck by lightning. Her eyelashes fluttered frantically. “What did you just say?” “Silas, I gave birth to your child! Does it not destroy your conscience to say something so cruel?!” She sobbed violently, her shoulders heaving for dramatic effect. Seeing that I was entirely unmovable, my father-in-law let out a furious snort. “Silas, remember that you asked for this.” “If you force this divorce, you are leaving with absolutely nothing. We will make sure you walk out of here penniless.” I simply closed my eyes and ignored him. Faced with my absolute apathy, they lost their minds, cursing me under their breath. They practically carried the weeping, devastated Lana out of the hospital room. “Stay strong, sweetie. A man like this isn’t worth your tears. Let’s go!” But their anger was laced with deep confusion. They couldn’t fathom how a perfectly happy marriage had spontaneously combusted into an irreconcilable nightmare. My best friend, Jaxon, heard I was hospitalized and rushed over to see me. “Silas, man, what the hell happened to you?” He had already seen the viral gossip online. My wife smashing a vase over my head to protect her childhood bestie during our anniversary dinner had become the hottest trending topic in our city. I was officially the internet’s biggest joke. Jaxon winced as he looked at my bandages, taking a deep breath. “You and Lana were the poster couple for true love. How did it end up in a bloody divorce?” I sat in silence for a long time before speaking. “Have you ever seen the Statue of David?” Jaxon blinked, confused. “The naked marble guy in Italy? The world-famous masterpiece?” “Yeah.” Jaxon listened quietly as I continued. “Lana has a life-sized replica in her studio.” Jaxon paused, then let out a relieved laugh. “No way. That has to be a cheap fake…” “Exactly!” I cut him off sharply. “It is a fake.” “And—” “It moves.” Jaxon froze completely. The realization hit him like a freight train. “Are you saying…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, his face cycling through sheer horror and disgust. Half a month dragged by. After I was discharged from the hospital and returned to the house, Lana completely changed her tactics. She wore an incredibly sheer, seductive nightgown, practically drowning herself in expensive perfume as she slid up next to me. “Silas, I know I have been freezing you out lately. Tell me what you don’t like, and I will change.” Her voice was husky and sweet, dripping with forced affection. She went from a cold artist to a desperate kitten. After five years of marriage, I knew exactly what this was. It was pure, unadulterated damage control. But every time I pictured that locked studio door, a wave of violent nausea washed over me. “Silas…” She wrapped her arms around me from behind, pressing her lips softly against the back of my neck. “Everything I held back from you before… I will give it all to you tonight… Ah! Silas, what the hell?!” Before she could finish her seductive whisper, I forcefully shoved her away. She tumbled backward, crashing onto the carpet. Seeing my aggressive, ruthless rejection, Lana’s fabricated patience instantly evaporated. “Don’t push your luck, you arrogant prick.” “Silas, I apologized. I begged. I literally threw myself at you. What more do you want from me?!” I looked at her flushed, rosy cheeks. I couldn’t tell if she was flushed from the anger, or if she had just been thoroughly entertained by someone else. “I don’t want anything. I told you, I only want a divorce.” I replied with a lazy, bored tone. Lana froze, reverting back to desperate begging, trying everything to manipulate my decision. “Silas, did you really forget the vows we made?” “You promised you would always stand by my side, no matter what. It has barely been five years!” “And our daughter is only a few months old! Are you truly cruel enough to abandon her? To let her grow up without a father?” “Silas, how can your heart be this cold?!” Lana’s eyes were bloodshot, massive tears streaming down her face. “If we divorce, what am I supposed to do? What is our daughter supposed to do?” I let out a dark chuckle, staring at her with dead eyes. “Why the hell would I care what you do?” Lana’s eyes filled with venomous disappointment. She ground her teeth together. “Fine. If you want to be a heartless monster.” “I might as well take the baby and jump off the roof.” She immediately bolted for the nursery, scooped up the baby wrapped in a blanket, and sprinted for the balcony. I sat on the couch, not moving a single muscle. I knew it was a pathetic bluff. She wasn’t going to die. Because I had heard her whisper to someone else that the person she and her daughter truly needed was never going to be me. Just as I predicted, Lana stood awkwardly on the balcony in the freezing wind, clutching the baby, completely frozen in place. “Silas, you really are a monster!” “You want a divorce so badly?!” “Then fine! We’re done!” A torrential downpour had started outside, but she dramatically carried the baby straight out the front door and into the storm. Barely ten minutes later. The front door was practically kicked off its hinges by her precious Blake. A barrage of furious insults rained down on me. “Silas, you are a piece of trash! Did you forget the time you got into that horrific car wreck? The doctors said you might never wake up. Lana stayed by your hospital bed every single day, wiping your face, taking care of you!” “And now you demand a divorce? Was your conscience eaten by a wild dog?!” Blake knew my reputation in our circle. He knew I valued loyalty and gratitude above all else. He saw my silence and assumed I was reminiscing about her past kindness, thinking my resolve was breaking. But I just stared at him with glacial eyes. “If she was the one who ended up in a coma, I would have taken care of her exactly the same way.” “But paying off a debt of gratitude doesn’t mean I am staying in this rotting marriage. I want a divorce.” Three days later, fueled by pure spite, Lana finally signed the divorce papers. But she added a brutal stipulation: I had to leave with absolutely nothing. I scoffed. “On what grounds? You are the one at fault here. If anyone is walking away with nothing, it’s you.” My mother-in-law’s chest heaved with fury. She rolled up her sleeves and pointed a shaking finger an inch from my nose. “Have you no shame?! How dare you say that out loud!” “My daughter paints pictures in her studio. What exactly did she do wrong?! You greedy, disgusting pig. Your math is brilliant. Are you going to demand the wedding ring back next?” My father-in-law was practically vibrating with rage. “You ungrateful parasite! Have you forgotten how you got everything you own?! Do not forget that I gave you your start. You were a penniless nobody when you met her!” “Now you’ve got a little money, you think you can disrespect us? You definitely have a mistress hidden somewhere. You dump my daughter, and now you want to leave her homeless?!” “I should call the local news right now and let the world see what kind of psychotic sociopath you really are!” Jaxon, who had been standing quietly behind me, finally stepped up. “I think you guys have a massive misunderstanding. Silas isn’t like that. There is a deeply messed up reason for this.” But I was exhausted. I was done arguing with brick walls. “If you refuse to let Lana leave with nothing, then we will settle this in front of a judge.” As I turned to walk out the door, the nanny tried to hand me the baby for a hug. “Mr. Silas, no matter what happens, the little lady is your own flesh and blood. How can you be so ruthless? Refusing child support is one thing, but how can you cut off their only lifeline?” I completely ignored her, brushing past without a second glance. Desperate to force my hand, Lana carried the baby and physically blocked my car on the street outside. Blake panicked, aggressively shoving my shoulder. “What the hell are you staring at?! Your wife and kid are standing in the middle of traffic! Go get them before they get hit by a damn car!” I laughed coldly. “If they get hit, that is none of my business.” But the universe has a sick sense of humor. A drunk driver suddenly blew through a red light, losing control of a massive SUV. The car clipped Lana and the baby. The baby was severely injured. She was rushed to the emergency room in critical condition, requiring an immediate, massive blood transfusion. Lana lost her mind. With nowhere left to turn, she dropped to her knees on the hospital floor right in front of a crowd of onlookers. “Silas, I am begging you! Please, go give your daughter your blood!” I stood there, absolutely untouchable. “Why the hell are you asking me for blood? Go ask your beloved David statue. I am sure he would be thrilled to donate.” Lana froze, her face instantly turning the color of chalk. The crowd in the waiting room erupted, cursing me, calling me a cold-blooded psychopath. They said I didn’t even deserve to be called human. “Her baby is dying, and he’s making jealous jokes about a piece of art?! A psycho like this shouldn’t even be allowed near women!” “He’s a controlling, demonic narcissist!” Lana’s face was stained with mascara and tears. She glared at me with absolute hatred. “Silas, I finally see you for the monster you are. Fine! We are getting divorced! And don’t you dare come crawling back to me when you realize what you lost!” In the end, it was Blake who miraculously happened to be a perfect blood match. He donated the blood. My cold, apathetic refusal was recorded by a bystander and uploaded to TikTok. The internet completely tore me apart. I was globally canceled in a matter of hours. “Oh my God, how does a man like this even exist? That is his own biological child! He deserves to rot in hell alone.” “Any woman who marries him is signing her own death warrant. Ladies, watch out for walking red flags like this guy.” Jaxon looked incredibly stressed. “Silas, the entire internet is calling for your head. Are you seriously not going to release a statement?” I shook my head, my face an emotionless mask. “There is no need to explain anything online. We just wait for the trial tomorrow.” I looked up, a lethal chill in my eyes. “Lana played me for a fool for way too long. I am going to destroy her.” The next morning. Lana and her parents arrived at the courthouse early, radiating arrogant confidence. Trailing closely behind them, looking incredibly smug, was Blake. They looked down their noses at me, issuing their final warning. “Silas, a judge isn’t going to side with a paranoid, controlling freak who throws tantrums over nothing.” “I suggest you plead guilty to emotional abuse right now. Maybe Lana will be generous enough to leave you one percent of the assets.” I ignored them completely, taking my seat at the plaintiff’s desk with an eerie calm. After Lana’s lawyer presented their fabricated evidence of my ‘cruelty’, the judge turned his attention to me. “Mr. Silas, your primary complaint is that your wife paints a replica of the Statue of David in her studio. How is this relevant?” “You absolutely cannot demand she forfeit all marital assets based on her artistic hobbies.” Facing their victorious, mocking smirks, I spoke loud and clear. “I have undeniable proof.” I slowly panned my gaze across the smug faces of my soon-to-be ex-family. “Right now, I am going to show this court the real reason I filed for divorce.”

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I’ll never forget that afternoon. When the campus’s brightest guy asked my best friend out for the tenth time, she pointed at me and said, “She’s struggling just like you. You two are perfect for each other.” A light sparked in his eyes when he looked at me. Ten years later, he was on the Forbes billionaire list. At a grand celebration, he thanked me for my decade of support, and everyone envied my title as Mrs. Muniz. Then, at a star-studded gala, I saw my friend—her wealthy husband had just died by suicide. That night, he threw a divorce agreement at me. “If you hadn’t hogged the title of Mrs. Muniz, she could’ve come to me for help.” We argued fiercely—our first fight in ten years. He froze all my accounts, but I wouldn’t sign. Then came the news: my mother was critically ill. I begged him to help, but he wouldn’t spend a penny. I watched her take her last breath. My father shoved me, shouting, “Why cling to him? You could’ve saved your mother!” My brother looked at me with hate. My five-year-old son sobbed, “Mommy, why didn’t you save Grandma?” That night, he smirked. “How much longer will you cling to this position?” I silently gave him the signed papers. I won’t cling anymore. Now, I’m going to find my mother. … When the signed agreement was pushed towards him, his cigar-holding hand froze. He didn’t even notice the burning tobacco singeing his fingers. “So compliant this time?” “Yeah.” He leaned closer. “What’s your game? Just say it.” “I’m going to find my mom.” Adam chuckled. “What, transferring your aunt to another hospital?” I froze. I looked at him, surprised. “Your aunt’s illness, only the hospital I recommended can treat it. If you go to her, where would you transfer her?” He… didn’t know Mom was dead. A bitter smile flashed across my face. “That, you don’t need to worry about.” With that, I stood up and dragged my already packed suitcase. I had so few belongings that one suitcase wasn’t even full. After arguing with him for so long, I had sold almost all my valuables. But it still wasn’t enough for Mom’s surgery. Perhaps Dad was right. I was the one who killed Mom. I deserved to atone. Opening the door, my neck was suddenly grabbed. I was pressed against the wall. “Playing hard to get?” Adam looked down at me. “You never agreed to sign before, now you’re so submissive.” “What, after you leave this door, what are you planning to do to Sarah?” It was always like this. He always judged me with the most malicious intentions. In the past, I would have smashed things in the house, reminding him that I was his wife of nearly ten years. But now, I simply smiled. “Choke me to death. Perfect, widowhood will automatically dissolve our marriage.” His hand recoiled as if burned. He stared at me in disbelief for a moment. Seeing that I didn’t try to evade him, he muttered “crazy” and turned to leave. I found a rented room. I had accumulated a lot of sleeping pills. If I took them all, I could quietly slip away. I looked at the gray, bare branches outside the window. I smiled. I opened the pill bottle. A loud crash. My hand trembled. The pill bottle fell to the floor, pills scattering everywhere. Adam clutched my arm, a cold sneer on his lips. “I knew you were too compliant signing that agreement. You were planning to kill Sarah!” Before I could explain, I was forcibly dragged away. The car stopped in an open field on the outskirts, and I was pulled out. I was roughly shoved in front of Sarah Evans. She wore a sequined performance outfit, her arms and legs covered in bruises. Her eyes red, she looked at me. “Chloe, even if I’m down and out, I still have morals! I never wanted to break up your family. Why would you tie me up and have me assaulted? If Mr. Muniz hadn’t arrived in time, those animals you hired would have killed me by now!” Looking at those people I didn’t recognize at all, I said coldly, “I didn’t.” “Still denying it?” Adam gripped my chin. “These people confessed you instigated it. What, could Sarah have orchestrated this herself?” Sarah quickly exchanged a glance with the thugs. They suddenly burst into tears. “Madam! Are you going back on your word?” “Yeah, Madam! You said you’d take care of anything that happened!” “You said Ms. Evans was a prostitute and there was nothing to worry about! If we had known she was Mr. Muniz’s favorite, we wouldn’t have dared even with a hundred guts!” Sarah began to sob softly. Adam’s hand on my chin almost crushed my bones. “If you keep playing tough, forget about your mother’s medical expenses entirely!” I looked at him, my eyes red. Then I suddenly smiled. “Mother? She’s gone! What medical expenses?” Adam’s pupils constricted. The next second, a harsh slap landed on my face. “Now, just to be spiteful, you’ll say anything!” Sarah suddenly spoke up. “Chloe, even though Mr. Muniz and you have some disagreements, he never took it out on your aunt. Even I, an outsider, know that Mr. Muniz has a dedicated medical account for your aunt, depositing hundreds of thousands every month.” I froze. I looked up at Adam. His expression was cold, just as it had always been. How could such a man give Mom hundreds of thousands a month for medical expenses? If that were true, how could Mom have died! They were all lying to me. Using a phantom account to threaten me into divorce. They were all lying to me… Adam said coldly, “Even now, are you still refusing to admit it?” I took a deep breath. “What do you want from me?” “Kneel and apologize to her.” “Oh, no need, we’re after all best fr—” Sarah was about to object, but I had already knelt down and respectfully bowed my head. “I’m sorry.” Adam looked at me in disbelief. I stood up, brushing the dirt from my knees. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.” The pills scattered on the floor of my rented room, I hadn’t taken them yet. “Stop.” A knife was placed on the table. Adam said coldly, “Sarah suffered so much because of you. Do you think a mere apology will suffice?” I turned back. He sneered, “However many cuts she endured, you will too.” Sarah clutched the scrapes on her arm, her eyes instantly red. “Fine,” I said. It seemed there was no other way to die. I picked up the knife and savagely plunged it towards my heart. “Chloe!” A hand gripped mine, holding the knife. Adam struggled against my strength. I stared at him. The tip of the knife moved another two inches closer to my heart. “Chloe!!” I clutched the knife handle. He clutched my hand. “If you want your child thrown into an orphanage, then stab that knife in now!” I froze. “Chloe, I won’t raise that bastard.” I opened my mouth. Blood trickled from my lips. “You…” He cut me off. “If you really want to die, take that bastard with you. That face, so much like yours, disgusts me!” That’s right… Adam hated me. So, Leo… he would hate him too… If I died, no one would truly care for Leo. Maybe Adam would even find people to bully him… The knife was violently pulled out. I coughed up a mouthful of blood, stumbled, and he caught me in his arms. Before losing consciousness, I heard his sharp cry. “Ambulance! Call an ambulance!” When I woke again, I was lying in a VIP hospital room. Adam looked at me with a cold sneer. “Your methods are getting more sophisticated. Even faking a suicide attempt looks so real.” I looked at him. He curled his lips into a sarcastic smile. “Sarah was right, you really are suited to be an actress.” He left. I lay alone on the bed, staring at the white ceiling, clutching my chest. That same afternoon, I knocked on my brother Rob’s door. On the table, Mom’s memorial photo still sat. On the sofa, was the scarf Mom hadn’t finished knitting for him. It was getting cold, and she had meant for him to wear it. Seeing it was me, he immediately moved to close the door. I stuck a hand in the gap. “Rob, I’m here to ask you for a favor.” Rob turned his head away, refusing to look at me. I entered the house. He sat on the sofa, lighting a cigarette. He didn’t smoke or drink. After Mom died, he took up both. “I’m sorry, Rob. I should have listened to you from the start.” He blew out a smoke ring, saying nothing. “I shouldn’t have been so unwilling to give up these ten years, I shouldn’t have argued with you and Dad over Adam. I should have listened to you from the beginning and given Mrs. Muniz’s position to Sarah Evans.” “I’m sorry…” Rob sneered. “What good is ‘I’m sorry’? Can ‘I’m sorry’ bring Mom back?” I choked. He looked at me. “It’s because you were always so focused on jealousy that Mom died!” The last few words were gritted through his teeth. “How could I have a sister like you!” I lowered my head, my voice trembling. “But Rob… I beg you, please take care of Leo.” He froze. “Adam won’t take care of him.” “I don’t ask you to treat him as your own child.” “At least, don’t let him be bullied.” Rob stared at me, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. “What, playing the victim?” I remained silent. “Leo has a mother like you. He’s naturally unlucky.” “Rob, I beg you.” “Get out.” “Rob…” “Get out!” An ashtray smashed near my foot. “Get out! Don’t dirty Mom’s eyes here!” I turned back. Mom’s memorial photo was on the table, smiling kindly at me. I knelt down and bowed deeply. Then, I turned and knelt before Rob, bowing my head. “Rob, I’m counting on you.” Without waiting for his astonished gaze, I turned and strode out. I walked out the door and got into my car. Rob’s voice came from the doorway. “Don’t ever come back! Go die wherever you want! Don’t say you’re my sister! The Reid family has no sister like you!” I gripped the steering wheel, tears streaming down my face. It was okay if I was cursed. I knew. Rob wouldn’t abandon Leo in the end. I started the car and drove away. The sleeping pills sat quietly on the table. I lay on the bed in my rented room. I set a timed message for my landlord, to be sent in twenty-four hours, asking her to contact a funeral home for me. My last bit of jewelry, once sold, would fetch over twenty thousand dollars. Not enough for Mom’s surgery. But enough to compensate the landlord for any losses. After doing all this, I reached for the pills. The door suddenly burst open. My throat clenched. I uncontrollably threw up. Adam grabbed my chin. His eyes red. “What have you done?! What have you and your mother done to Sarah!!” Adam had never been so distraught. Even in the past, when we fought fiercely over a divorce agreement, he would only give me a cold glance and toss out a line like: “Fine, we’ll take our time. Let’s see who outlasts whom.” I had never seen him so enraged. Just as I was wondering what was going on, Sarah Evans appeared at the doorway. Her performance outfit had long been replaced by a custom-made silk dress, but it was now tattered. There was a trace of blood at the corner of her mouth. She rushed forward like a madwoman, slapping me fiercely across the face. “How can you be so vicious! You and your mother won’t be satisfied until you destroy me!” I stared at her blankly. Her chest heaved. “I told you, I have morals, I would never break up your family with Mr. Muniz! We were best friends, for heaven’s sake. How could you be so utterly insane, having your mother send me messages, tricking me into visiting her at the hospital?” “And then having a bunch of animals take intimate photos of me!” I chuckled. Sure enough. Another setup. But I was so tired. Too tired to explain anymore. Sarah began to sob. “If Mr. Muniz hadn’t found me, my intimate photos would be all over the internet by now!” “How convenient,” I said, not even lifting an eyelid. “Every time I ‘frame’ you, Adam shows up just in time.” She froze. I smiled, looking up. “It’s as if you arranged it in advance.” Bang! I was shoved violently. The back of my head hit the wall. Adam, furious, threw a stack of photos in my face. “Are you saying Sarah used such methods to disgrace herself, just to compete with you?!” In the photos, Sarah’s clothes were tattered, her eyes filled with terror. She was forced to look at the camera by countless hands. Her eyes were full of humiliation and tears. At first glance, it was indeed heart-wrenching. But on closer inspection, the angles and compositions of these photos were too polished. As if someone had written a script in advance. My hand under the covers clutched the unfinished sleeping pills. I sneered. “Nicely shot. Could pass for art.” “You!” Sarah covered her mouth. I looked at Adam. “What do you want, Mr. Muniz? Beat me up or throw me in jail? Whatever it is, hurry up, I have things to do.” Adam’s fist trembled slightly. “That would be too easy for you.” A dozen burly men entered from the doorway. “Naturally, to treat someone as they’ve treated you, is the most effective!” I froze. Cameras were set up in no time. Adam coldly instructed from the doorway. “Shoot her exactly as you shot Sarah.” With that, the door closed. Before I could even make a sound, my mouth was covered. Sarah’s photos were carefully staged. My photos, however, were genuine humiliation. In no time, a hundred photos were taken. My shirt buttons had already popped onto the floor. I lay on the bed, my eyes vacant. Adam inspected the photos, took the negatives, and sneered. He came to my bedside, leaning over. “You know, if your mother saw these photos of you, would she just drop dead?” I stared at the ceiling, saying nothing. He sneered. He got up and called his subordinate. “Get the car ready. To the hospital. To see the old lady.” “Yes!” He walked away. My hand from under the covers came out. The sleeping pills. Finally, I could take them. Mom, I’m coming to apologize to you. I’m sorry. Don’t hate me. At this moment, Adam was walking downstairs. His subordinate called again.

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I was carrying a stack of things downstairs, ready to dump them straight into the trash. These were all for the white Persian I had raised since he was a kitten. There were homemade, pet-safe meals I had spent hours learning to cook, along with adorable little outfits and expensive toys. But ever since he shifted into his human form, he treated me like absolute garbage. He said I was plain, that my voice grated on his nerves, and that my habit of kissing his cheek made him sick to his stomach. He refused to take a single bite of the food I made, sneering that he wasn’t a dog and wouldn’t eat slop. He shredded the clothes and toys I bought, baring his fangs to warn me that if I ever tried to humiliate him with such disgusting things again, he would rip my throat out. My heart was completely shattered. The only thing left to do was pack it all up and throw it away. Just as I was about to toss the bag, I bumped into a stray tabby cat. He sniffed the homemade food in my hand and ate it with pure joy. Then, picking up a little plush toy in his mouth, he happily circled my legs. I stared at him for a long time. Then, I reached out and took this little guy home. 1 When I walked through my front door, the apartment was a disaster zone. A young man with fluffy white cat ears lounging on my sofa didn’t even bother to look up. “What took you so long? I’m thirsty. I want salmon-infused water!” I stared at the torn garbage bags, shredded toilet paper, smashed pots, and broken plant stems scattered across the floor. A massive headache throbbed behind my eyes. “Hector, what is all this? I told you, if you want something, just call me! Stop destroying the house every time you throw a tantrum!” The young man on the sofa bolted upright, the luxurious, feather-like tail behind him puffing up to twice its size. “What do you mean, destroying the house? You’re the one keeping me locked up in here! You’re stripping away my freedom!” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “The outside world is complicated. You’re a newly shifted Shifter. You couldn’t survive out there on your own.” “Oh, I couldn’t survive?” Hector let out a cold, mocking laugh. He grabbed a stack of my medical records from the coffee table and hurled them at me. The words ‘Depression’ and ‘Anxiety’ flashed across the flying papers as his vicious voice rang out clearly. “Looks to me like you’re the one who would die without me!” A sharp edge of paper sliced across my cheek, leaving a stinging trail of blood. We both froze. In the next split second, a piercing yowl erupted from the shopping bag in my arms. A lean, agile shadow launched itself directly at the sofa. As the shadow closed the distance, it stretched and grew. By the time it slammed into the cushions, it had taken the full form of a broad-shouldered, adult man. Hector couldn’t dodge in time. He was pinned brutally beneath the stranger, shrieking in panic. “Who the hell are you?! This is my house!” The man didn’t say a word. He just raised a fist and started throwing heavy punches, knocking Hector’s head back against the armrest. “Stop! Don’t hit him!” I finally snapped out of my shock and rushed forward to pull the man back. “No fighting in the house!” The man immediately froze. He twitched the tabby ears atop his head, tilted his neck, and affectionately nuzzled my cheek. “Whatever my master says.” Hector’s face twisted into absolute fury. He bared his fangs and roared. “Who the hell are you calling master?!” 2 By the time I managed to separate the two cats, well, the two men, I was panting from exhaustion. “You are staying in the guest room tonight!” I shoved Hector into the spare bedroom, giving him a stern glare. “When you learn to stop cursing and puffing up your tail, I’ll let you out!” “Nora! How dare you treat me like this!” Hector was so furious his tail was completely puffed out again. “You bring another stray into this house, and then you lock me up?! You’re disloyal! I’ll bite you to death!” I frowned. “No biting.” Hector bared his teeth even wider. “Fickle, cheating women like you deserve to get sick! Don’t you ever think about hugging me again. Just drop dead!” The pure malice in his eyes made my chest tighten with a mix of fear and crushing sorrow. The kitten I had raised for two years, the one I had nurtured since he fit in the palm of my hand, was wishing for my death. I pulled the guest room door shut, doing my best to block out the muffled screaming. I quietly swept up the ruined living room, wiping away tears with the back of my hand. Once the mess was cleared, I carried a bowl of food into my study. The room was perfectly quiet. If it weren’t for the small lump under the blanket on the folding bed, I would have thought the tabby had run away. “Why did you turn back into a cat?” I gently poked the lump. “I know about Shifters. I’m not scared of you. You can stay in your human form.” The tabby peaked out, looking at me, and offered a slow, deliberate blink. I knew enough about feline behavior to know that meant trust and affection. I smiled softly and scratched him under the chin. The tabby started purring like a motor. Amidst the deep rumbling, his body began to expand. His human form was significantly larger and broader than Hector’s. He possessed a striking, ruggedly handsome face. A true heartthrob of the tabby world. I felt a sudden flush of embarrassment and quickly yanked the blanket up to cover his bare waist. He clearly hadn’t been neutered. It was very obvious. “You’ll stay in this room for the next few days to quarantine. Here’s some food if you get hungry tonight. I also found some spare clothes. See if they fit you later.” The man hummed in acknowledgment. He kept his eyes on me and gave another slow blink. I chuckled, patted his head, and stood up to leave. Before I could turn around, he gently caught my sleeve. “What is it?” I looked back down at him. “A name.” He stared up at me, my reflection perfectly captured in his deep, forest-green eyes. “Please give me a name.” 3 I thought about it all night and finally decided on Lucian. Since I had found him wandering the streets just before dawn, a name meaning ‘light’ felt like the perfect fit. To celebrate the newest member of the household, I woke up early to prepare a special meal. I baked pet-safe cupcakes using chicken breast, peeled shrimp, and egg yolks. One for each of them. Holding the cupcakes, I hesitated in the hallway before finally opening the door to the guest room. “Hector, time for breakfast.” The moment I stepped inside, my vision swam. The room was utterly trashed. I choked back my anger, forcing my voice to remain gentle. “I made fresh chicken cupcakes today. Come try some.” I placed the plate on the small nightstand. Before my hand even pulled away, a blur launched off the mattress and viciously flipped the table. “What is this garbage?! I could smell the stench through the door! It’s disgusting! I’m not eating it!” The plate shattered. The cupcake flew across the room, crumbling into a pathetic mess on the floorboards. Looking at the utter disgust twisted into his beautiful features, the bitter ache in my chest spread wildly. I quietly knelt down, swept the broken pieces into a pile, and walked out without looking back. I always prided myself on being a good cook. At the very least, human friends always praised my meals. But Hector hated everything I made. Whether it was pet-safe recipes or regular food, he despised it all. Even when I popped open imported, premium wet food, he ate it like it was a chore. Yet, when my friend visited and casually offered him a cheap squeeze treat, he ate it happily. I used to comfort myself by making excuses. Maybe the imported brand wasn’t his flavor profile. Maybe he was just acting like a diva to get my attention. But at this exact moment, I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. Hector didn’t hate my cooking. He didn’t hate the premium brands. He just hated me. 4 Taking in Hector was completely unplanned. I had just been officially diagnosed with clinical depression, and my therapist suggested adopting a pet to ground myself. By sheer coincidence, I found a litter of abandoned kittens on my way home from work. They were barely the size of my palm, eyes barely open. Hector was the runt of the litter. Sickly, frail, and so tiny that everyone else who came to adopt passed him over. I was the one who took him in. I fought through his fungal infections, his feline distemper, and upper respiratory viruses. I nursed him back to life, ounce by ounce, until the day he shifted into a human. Hector always told me that Shifters were different. They were a rare, noble, elite branch of society. He constantly reminded me that a magnificent creature like him shouldn’t be caged by a painfully average human like me. I knew I was plain and ordinary, but I couldn’t help the swell of pride I felt for raising such a precious, beautiful being. It was a magical feeling. Like a blinding ray of sunlight piercing through the endless rain clouds of my life. Even if that light burned my eyes, I was happy. Even when Hector mocked me and looked down on everything I did, I did my best to tune it out and pretend it didn’t hurt. On Hector’s second birthday, I received an official email from the Shifter Control Council. The letter stated that a two-year-old Shifter was considered a legal adult. If he wished to remain in the human world, he had to sign an official Bonding Contract with a human guardian. I was overjoyed. I meticulously printed out the forms and filled them out. But when I woke up from a nap, I found the paperwork shredded to pieces. Hector stood barefoot on the torn paper, a vicious sneer on his lips. “Who gave you the delusion that I would ever bond with you?” “You’re broke, you’re ugly, and you’re a terrible servant. You cling to me every day begging for hugs and kisses like a shameless stray mutt. Why would I ever sign my life over to you?” I had frozen in place. A cruel, mocking smile curved perfectly on his flawless face. He patted my cheek roughly and whispered, “I want krill-flavored puffs. Go make them, you stray mutt.” 5 It turned out that all my years of love and sacrifice were just seen as ‘servitude’. The affection and warmth I craved were just him tossing me scraps. In Hector’s eyes, I was nothing but a pathetic, needy dog wagging my tail for his amusement. I spiraled into a deep misery after that day. When I went back to my therapist, she was baffled. “I thought you adopted a pet? Why are your symptoms getting worse?” I offered a bitter smile. “My cat… he doesn’t really listen to me.” My doctor went silent for a moment before offering her advice. “If caring for an animal isn’t bringing you peace, but instead compounding your stress, I highly recommend you stop. Rehome him. Find a pet that is actually affectionate. Otherwise, this arrangement is toxic for your health, and frankly, it’s not good for the animal either.” I thought about her words for a very long time. Finally, after Hector smashed his bowl in disgust over yet another meal, I walked downstairs and brought back the stray tabby. The one who always greeted me after work, who never turned his nose up at my leftovers, and who pressed against my legs with soft purrs. Maybe this decision wasn’t a mistake after all. Just like right now. The study door cracked open a fraction, and Lucian peeked through the gap, his eyes entirely focused on my distress. I quickly wiped my cheeks and shook my head. “You can’t come out yet.” Lucian nodded, then shook his head. “I won’t come out. But I want to wipe your tears.” A watery laugh escaped me. I walked over to the doorframe. “Okay, wipe them.” Lucian reached through the crack, using his large, warm thumb to gently brush away the moisture on my skin. His touch was incredibly soft. “I made chicken cupcakes, but… they might taste awful.” “No, they don’t.” Lucian grabbed my wrist, looking at me with absolute sincerity. “I could smell them through the door. Chicken and shrimp, right? It smells amazing! I could eat three of them in one bite!” I blinked, my eyes stinging all over again. I turned into the kitchen and brought back his portion. On a whim, I stuck a sprig of catnip into the top like a little candle. “Welcome to the family. From now on, your name is Lucian.” Lucian nodded vigorously and sat down cross-legged on the floor, devouring the food in massive bites. Seeing him eat with such enthusiasm, I hurried back to the kitchen to make another batch. While waiting for the chicken to boil, I grabbed a squeeze treat to see if he wanted a snack. As I approached the study, I heard Hector’s voice bleeding through the door. “You put on a pretty good show.” “See? I told you this stupid woman was incredibly easy to fool.” 6 Fool me… about what? I froze outside the study, my heart constricting so violently it became hard to breathe. “If you want to stay in the human world, you have to swallow your pride for a bit,” Hector’s voice dripped with lazy arrogance. “Like they say online: play the sweet angel for five minutes, secure a luxury lifestyle forever. It’s a solid trade, right?” Staring blankly at the door, I suddenly remembered the bolded warning at the very bottom of the SCC email: Shifters can be exceptionally cunning. Many will use any means necessary to secure residence in human society. Please ensure your Shifter genuinely respects and cares for you before signing the Bonding Contract. So, it wasn’t an exaggeration. I stood in absolute silence as Hector took on the role of a seasoned mentor lecturing Lucian. “But you can’t just blindly act sweet. You have to lay down the law with this idiot, otherwise she’ll start thinking she actually owns you. Once she learns to stop raising her voice at me and acts completely subservient, I might finally consider signing the contract with her.” Hector sneered at the empty plate on the floor. “You can use Nora for practice. She has a lot of rich friends with pets. I’ll make her rehome you to one of them, and you can just pick whichever wealthy human is easiest to manipulate and bond with them.” Lucian didn’t say a word. He just stared blankly at Hector, his forest-green eyes utterly devoid of the warmth he showed me. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you.” I had spoiled Hector to the core. His temper was incredibly volatile, and waiting even a few seconds for a response made him furious. He kicked Lucian’s empty plate across the floor, mocking him. “Did eating her garbage slop rot your brain?” Lucian finally reacted. He slowly raised his eyes, locking onto Hector’s face, and spoke in a deadpan voice. “Pick it up.” Hector frowned. “What?” “Pick up the plate.” Hector burst into laughter. He stepped forward, stomping his bare foot onto the porcelain plate and grinding it into the floor as a blatant challenge. “Are you getting too deep into character? Everyone knows tabbies are the most feral, insubordinate street trash around. You bite the heads off rats in the alleys. You don’t need to play the good boy in front of me.” His smile deepened into a venomous smirk. “Or is it because you’ve overstayed your visa in the human world? You need to hook a human fast, or the Council is going to deport you back to the wilds?” 7 Deport him? I blinked, remembering a specific clause in the Shifter Handbook. Rule number one: Shifters capable of achieving human form must secure a Bonding Contract before the age of three. Failure to do so results in mandatory deportation by the Council. This strict deadline was probably the breeding ground for all the deceit, endurance, and fake affection. I watched Lucian’s face darken. A sharp, needle-like pain pierced my chest. It was small, but undeniable. So his approach was premeditated? His affection was just a tool? I gripped the squeeze treat in my hand, my throat burning with acid. I genuinely thought I was past the point of heartbreak after enduring Hector’s constant abuse, but here I was, ready to cry over a stray cat. Or maybe I was just crying because my genuine love was constantly treated like garbage. Just as a sob threatened to break past my lips, Lucian’s voice finally cut through the tension. “I don’t care if Nora bonds with me or not.” Both Hector and I froze completely. Hector’s brow furrowed. “Then what the hell are you doing here?” Lucian stared at Hector, perfectly mimicking his mocking smile. “I heard there was a lazy, ungrateful, backstabbing leech living in this house, so I wanted a front-row seat to see it for myself.” “And looking at you today, the rumors were entirely accurate.” Hector short-circuited for half a second before exploding. “Who the hell are you calling a leech?!” Lucian’s voice was glacial. “I thought you had some basic self-awareness.” Hector knew he couldn’t beat Lucian in a physical fight, so he kept his distance, though his tail was completely puffed out in rage. “What happens between Nora and me is none of your business! You have no right to lecture me!” “Besides, she’s just a normal human! A broke, ugly, average human! Why shouldn’t I be disgusted by her?!” “Do you have any idea how other Shifters live?! They live in multi-story mansions! They eat airlifted seafood every single day! And I’m stuck rotting in this cramped apartment, playing with raggedy, frayed toys! She can’t provide anything for me! She’s turning me into a laughingstock among my kind!” Lucian let him finish his tantrum. Then, with absolute calm, he delivered three words. “Then get out.” “If you hate Nora so much, if she disgusts you so deeply, why are you still here? Why are you squatting in her house?” Lucian took a step forward, jabbing a hard finger into Hector’s shoulder. “You talk a big game about hating her, yet you refuse to leave. If you ask me, you’re the one acting like a pathetic, shameless stray mutt.” 8 I instantly knew things were going to get ugly. True to form, Hector completely lost his mind. Ignoring the sheer difference in their strength, he let out a feral shriek and lunged at Lucian. “No fighting!” I rushed into the room to pull them apart. In the chaotic blur of limbs, Hector’s claws accidentally slashed across the back of my hand. I hissed sharply, looking down at the deep, bleeding scratches. Seeing the blood, Lucian immediately leaped backward out of the fight. He stood frantically by my side, his tail thrashing with anxiety. “You’re hurt! Are you okay?” “Stop acting like a saint!” Hector glared at my bleeding hand before lunging forward again. “That tiny scratch isn’t going to kill her! Stop being so dramatic!” He was right. It wasn’t going to kill me. But it still hurt. My heart turned to absolute ice. For the first time ever, I dropped my accommodating facade and glared coldly at Hector. “Hector, go back to your room!” He completely ignored me, stepping forward to bite Lucian. Taking advantage of the distraction, I reached out and clamped my hand firmly down on the scruff of his neck. “Did you not hear me? Go!” I raised him. I knew every single one of his weaknesses. Even in human form, his biological instincts remained. He was paralyzed by pressure on his scruff. “Let me go!” Hector’s body went stiff, but his eyes glared murderously at Lucian. “Are you completely blind?! He’s just here to scam you for free food and a contract! I know his kind! They’ll call anyone mother for a drop of milk! He doesn’t actually care about you!” I tuned him out completely, dragging him back to the guest room and throwing him inside. Just as I pulled the door shut, I couldn’t stop myself from speaking. “Even fake affection is still affection, isn’t it?” Hector froze. I let out a quiet sigh and closed the door. The moment I turned around, Lucian rushed up to me. “Is your hand okay? It’s bleeding heavily!” I was used to it. Cat owners got scratched; it was part of the job. I walked over to the bathroom sink to rinse it. “I’m fine. Are you hurt?” Lucian followed me right into the bathroom, his eyes glued to my injury. “I’m fine. Hector is incredibly weak. He can’t beat me.” I couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. A spoiled Persian cat was never going to win a street fight against a tabby. Once the wound was clean, I pulled out the iodine. Lucian immediately held out his hand. “Let me.” I blinked in surprise, then handed him the cotton swabs. Lucian’s touch was feather-light, completely terrified of causing me pain. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” Out of nowhere, Lucian dropped the heavy sentence. I frowned. “What?” He looked up at me, his green eyes swimming with guilt and anxiety. “If I wasn’t here, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” I was silent for a moment before gently shaking my head. “It has nothing to do with you.” Even if Lucian wasn’t here, Hector would still look down on me, still mock me, and still show zero concern for my well-being. I could understand Hector’s point of view. Just as he said, as a rare Shifter, he deserved a life of luxury instead of suffering in a tiny apartment with me. I was just reluctant to let him go. He was the kitten I raised by hand. I was selfishly holding onto the hope that he would stay with me just a little longer. But looking at the fresh scratches on my hand, the reality finally snapped into focus. It was time to let go. Hector and I needed to release each other. 9 I tossed and turned that night, trying to figure out how to find a wealthy adopter for Hector. Finally, I got out of bed and sent an official email to the Shifter Control Council explaining the situation. I just had to wait for a reply. Since Hector wasn’t leaving immediately, Lucian still needed to be quarantined in the study. Over the next week, I got a solid grasp on Lucian’s personality. He had a huge appetite. His favorite meal was my homemade shrimp and rice, and his favorite toy was a little yellow fish I sewed by hand. Whenever he felt embarrassed, he would instantly poof back into a cat. He was a master at using his feline form to act cute, purring like an engine the second he touched me. In his human form, despite looking like a deeply mature, rugged adult, he constantly hovered around me like an oversized shadow. “Converting to human years, you’re a full adult, right?” I asked while washing his hair in the bathroom. Lucian was terrified of running water. He squeezed his eyes shut under the suds. “Yes. In human years, I’m twenty-four.” Oh wow. Prime marriage material. I teased him with a wicked grin. “When you were a street cat, did you ever get… fixed?” Lucian cracked one eye open, staring at me for two solid seconds. Suddenly, he grabbed the towel draped over his waist. In a flash, his entire lower abdomen was on full display. My brain stalled for half a second before I grabbed the showerhead and sprayed him. “Put some pants on!” Lucian bolted upright. “Hot!” I checked the dial. “The water is barely lukewarm!” Lucian looked deeply serious. “I’m very fragile down there!” I shot him a glare. “If you’re so fragile, stop flashing me.” He muttered under his breath, “I just wanted to show you. Displaying my male pride.” My face burned bright red. “Stop being a pervert!” After finally finishing his bath, I grabbed the clippers to trim his nails. He resisted aggressively. “I can sharpen them myself!” “Absolutely not!” I scolded. “If you shred the sofa, I lose my security deposit!” “I can go outside and find a tree!” “Denied! You’re an indoor cat now!” While we were bickering, the guest room door was violently kicked open. Hector stomped out, his face twisted in annoyance. “You guys are so loud! Shut up or get out!” I panicked and ran over to check the doorframe. Thank god, no cracks. I let out a massive sigh of relief, turning back to catch Hector’s disgusted sneer. “Panicking over a cheap wooden door. You’re so broke.” “If I’m broke, why don’t you pay for it?” Behind me, Lucian spoke up lazily. “A door like that costs at least two hundred bucks. You got cash?” Hector bristled. “You freeloading piece of—” Halfway through his insult, Hector abruptly choked on his words. He stared dead at the pajamas Lucian was wearing, his expression turning terrifyingly dark. “Who gave you permission to wear that? Take it off right now!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “418519”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Since childhood, I’ve been sickly and weak, prone to coughing and dizziness. The day my wealthy parents brought me home, the imposter who stole my identity tried to frame me by faking a fall down the stairs. At that exact moment, my blood sugar crashed. I collapsed, tumbled down, and stopped breathing. My terrified parents rushed me to the hospital. Barely revived, my brother stormed in, grabbed my collar, and threatened me. His rage triggered a heart attack, and the monitor flatlined. Panicked, he fled for a doctor. That evening, the imposter pretended to jump from the hospital roof, crying that my return left her no place. Without a word, my brother dragged me to the edge. My severe acrophobia struck—my legs gave way, and I fell. My parents arrived with food just in time to see it. The air froze, then their eyes turned red with fury as they screamed. My brother and the imposter stood there, stunned and terrified. 1. A frantic team of doctors worked through the night, and finally, my heartbeat returned. Seeing Mom and Dad’s ashen faces, Scarlett’s voice was laced with a desperate cry. “Mom, Dad, I really didn’t push her. She just fell somehow…” Mom finally looked up, eyeing her suspiciously. “Then tell me, why would Luna, a patient just out of critical care who can barely walk, inexplicably find herself on a thirty-story rooftop?” Scarlett was choked into silence, unable to utter a single word for a long time. “I dragged her up there!” My brother, Conor, quickly stepped in front of Scarlett, adopting a protective stance. “Ever since she came back, you’ve all been ignoring Scarlett more and more, which is why Scarlett almost did something desperate today. So, it’s all Luna’s fault, shouldn’t Luna apologize to Scarlett?” “If you ask me, she’s incredibly manipulative! She knew there were safety barriers below the rooftop today, that’s why she deliberately put on this whole act, just to gain sympathy and frame Scarlett!” I had just opened my eyes from a dizzying haze, and hearing those words, my heart clenched violently. Not only was my body fragile, but my psychological resilience was even weaker. So, the next second, my legs gave out, and I knelt directly onto the floor from the bed, trembling uncontrollably. “Mom and Dad, Conor is right. It was all me, trying to gain sympathy and frame Scarlett, that I deliberately climbed onto the rooftop and fell.” “No one dragged me up there by force, and no one forced me to apologize without understanding the situation. All of this was voluntary. Please don’t blame Conor and Scarlett.” “Conor, don’t be angry anymore. I’ll apologize to Scarlett right now.” As I spoke, I timidly tugged at Scarlett’s sleeve, trying to force a smile at her. “Scarlett, I’m sorry…” Before I finished speaking, two streaks of blood unexpectedly trickled from the corners of my mouth. I casually wiped them away, smearing blood all over my face, and could only helplessly stretch my lips into a wider smile. Scarlett screamed, backing away several steps as if she had seen a ghost. Mom’s eyes rolled back, and she rushed forward to gently press me back onto the bed, her hands shaking as she wiped my face. Dad’s face darkened completely, and with a thump, he slammed the table, making it hum. “Look at what you’ve done! What have you pushed Luna to do?! Her health is already so fragile!” At these words, Scarlett’s eyes immediately turned red with injustice. Conor widened his eyes in disbelief. “Mom and Dad! You actually believe Luna?” “I looked into her past. She’s begged on the streets, acted as an extra in film sets. Playing the victim and acting comes naturally to her, doesn’t it?” “Otherwise, have you ever seen a normal person like her, spitting blood after a few words, or fainting after a few steps?” “She’s clearly putting on an act!” Seeing Mom and Dad’s expressions soften, Conor’s eyes lit up, as if he’d just thought of something. With decisive action, he yanked me off the hospital bed without a word, pulling out my oxygen tube. “Mom and Dad, look, I’ve pulled out her oxygen tube, but her heart monitor is still beeping perfectly fine, isn’t it?” “If you ask me, her heart condition is probably faked too. If she were truly unwell, something would have happened by now.” “So, she must have bribed the doctors to falsify her medical records…” I instinctively shook my head, wanting to tell them it wasn’t true. I had just been terribly tormented by human traffickers years ago. Even though I was lucky enough to escape and survive, my body suffered lasting sequelae. But I couldn’t speak anymore. The familiar suffocating sensation surged, my face turned purple, and large gushes of blood poured from my mouth. Conor was still rattling on, while my heart monitor, amidst its “beep-beep” alarm, once again flatlined. They turned back halfway through their words, only to see this scene. The air froze for a moment. The next second, the hospital room erupted in chaos—screams, shouts, utter pandemonium. “Luna!!” Mom and Dad pushed Conor away, frantically catching my collapsing body. “Doctor! Go call the doctor now!!!” Conor froze for a second, looking at his blood-soaked hands. He then gasped, scrambling out to call the doctor. Scarlett, ignored by everyone for the first time, stood stunned, stamping her feet in anger. But at that moment, no one could pay attention to her. Amidst all the shouts, my world slowly plunged into darkness. 2. The next day, I was startled awake by the sound of the door being kicked open. Before I could even make out the situation, my brother Conor dragged me off the bed, and my vision swam. “Don’t you dare put on an act here!” Conor loomed over me, his eyes filled with disgust. “I spent all last night thinking, and it finally hit me. Did you hear that Scarlett needed a kidney donation, so you’re deliberately feigning this sickly appearance to avoid it?” “The blood could be pre-prepared blood bags, and the doctors and machines could be fake.” He sneered, “Luna, your little tricks might fool Mom and Dad, but they won’t fool me.” Mom and Dad’s footsteps paused as they entered the room, clearly having overheard Conor’s words. That very night, they immediately invited a renowned international doctor to conduct a thorough re-examination of me. Conor not only vetted the doctor strictly but also stood guard at the hospital room door throughout, preventing any communication between me and the doctor. The imposter, Scarlett, also arrived. She spoke softly, her eyes slightly red. “Mom, Dad, Conor, it’s okay. If Luna isn’t willing to donate a kidney, then let me just die. At least I’m content to spend my last days with you all.” As she spoke, tears began to fall. Conor was heartbroken, patting her back to comfort her. “Scarlett, don’t worry. With me here, no one can bully you. Luna will donate that kidney today, whether she wants to or not!” “You said… you want patient Luna to donate a kidney?!” The doctor walked in, holding my medical report, his expression subtle as he heard this. Conor immediately raised his voice. “What’s wrong with her donating a kidney? It’s not like she’ll die!” “If Luna still wants to be a part of this family, this is what she should do!” The doctor looked at Conor as if he were an idiot. “Patient Luna has a missing right kidney, suspected to have been violently removed by external means. Preliminary assessment indicates she suffered abuse.” Conor’s expression froze. Scarlett’s look of grievance also cracked for a moment. But she quickly recovered, tugging pitifully at Conor’s sleeve. Conor immediately came to his senses, cleared his throat, but his tone was noticeably less self-assured. “Can’t donate a kidney… then blood, surely?” He found a new angle, straightening his back. “Scarlett’s condition can also be treated with blood donation.” “As long as Scarlett gets a blood transfusion, her condition will improve more thoroughly. This shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Mom and Dad exchanged glances, their expressions softening a few degrees. Donating a kidney was indeed hard to accept, but donating blood… it didn’t seem like such a big deal. “Then draw blood,” Dad said in a low voice. “Luna’s body is weak, but a little blood shouldn’t be an issue.” Mom didn’t argue, just looked at me, a hint of reluctance in her eyes, but eventually turned her head away. “Blood donation?” The doctor repeated the word. His tone was somewhat odd. “Are you sure you want to use patient Luna’s blood?” 3. “Of course, we’re sure!” Conor frowned impatiently. “She’s just a bit weak, what’s wrong with drawing some blood? Scarlett’s condition is urgent!” The doctor was silent for two seconds, then opened the report in his hand: “But Luna suffers from severe aplastic anemia, platelet dysfunction, Factor VII deficiency, hypoproteinemia, chronic myelodysplastic syndrome, chronic blood-borne infectious disease…” As his words fell, the hospital room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. In the silence, I slowly raised my hand, cautiously speaking, “Um, I’m willing… to donate blood to Scarlett…” Scarlett’s face instantly turned ashen. She shook her head, backing away. “No, no… not necessary…” She paused, then reacting, her eyes reddened again, this time with genuine emotion. “Sister, why are you deliberately targeting me like this?” “You know you have so many illnesses, yet you say you’re willing to donate blood to me. Are you deliberately trying to harm me?” I stared at her blankly, before I could even react, she had already pulled up her sleeve. A few small red rashes appeared on her fair arm. “Look!” She pulled a bouquet of roses from her bag and violently threw them at me. “I went home yesterday and found a bouquet of roses under my bed. Those are my most severe allergen! The maid said Luna secretly placed them under my bed the first day she came home!” “I really don’t know why Luna keeps targeting me…” I stared at the bouquet, eyes wide, and timidly shuffled my bottom backward. “Mom and Dad!” Conor, seeing my reaction, was as excited as if he had finally caught me red-handed. “Look at how guilty she looks! I bet she put them there, deliberately trying to harm Scarlett!” “She’s just jealous of Scarlett, she just wants to drive her out of this home! Luna, how can your intentions be so malicious?!” “Get rid of the flowers now!!!” The doctor’s face changed drastically. He pushed Conor aside, rushed over in a few steps, and kicked the roses on the floor away. “The patient has a severe pollen allergy; contact with flowers will immediately induce anaphylactic shock! Prepare for resuscitation immediately!” As if to confirm his words, large patches of red rashes visibly bloomed on my skin, my lips turned purple, and my eyelids uncontrollably rolled upward. In my blurred consciousness, Conor was still stubbornly saying, “She’s acting again, isn’t she? Luna, you’re really something, in just half a day you’ve already bribed another doctor…” “Enough!!” Dad roared, interrupting him. “Dr. Lin is an expert we invited from abroad! You personally vouched for him! Even the examinations were done while Luna was unconscious, and we watched the whole time! Could Luna have bribed him while she was unconscious?!”

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I was born fragile and spoiled rotten, the kind of heiress who threw a fit if the tea was a degree too cold. So, when night fell, I did what I always did. I ordered my handsome, fiercely loyal butler to my room to keep me company until I fell asleep. But suddenly, lines of bizarre, glowing text floated across my vision without any warning. The floating words claimed that a terrifying final boss was currently slaughtering players outside, and absolutely did not have the time to coax me to sleep or tuck me in. The text sneered that I was nothing more than a pet kept in this gothic manor by the monster, a fragile little toy for his amusement. It told me to stop acting like a high and mighty princess. Worse still, the words predicted that the moment this boss met the smart, resourceful heroine of the game, he would grow utterly disgusted by a whiny diva like me. The text said he would torture me using the most twisted methods imaginable before eating me alive, bite by bite. I trembled violently, yanking my velvet quilt all the way up over my head. A second later, a pair of ice-cold hands gently peeled the blankets back. A voice, incredibly soft but laced with a bone-deep, shadowy chill, hovered right above my face. “My lady, whatever is the matter?” 1 My whole body shook even harder. Those hands paused for a fraction of a second before moving to cradle the back of my head, touch impossibly tender. Just like he had done for countless nights before. His thumb stroked through my hair, the pressure absolutely perfect. “Are you feeling unwell tonight, my lady?” Silas sounded exactly the same as always. Deep, soothing, laced with genuine concern. He reached out to check my forehead for a fever. A floating comment slid past my eyes: “Can’t blame the spoiled brat for not suspecting a thing. If I hadn’t literally just watched the boss snap a player’s neck with a smile on his face, I’d fall for that gentle mask too.” Snap a neck? My spine locked up. I slapped his hand away the second it came near me. The brief contact with his palm was so freezing it sent a violent shiver straight through my bones. “Get away from me! Your hands are like ice. Are you trying to freeze me to death?” I forced myself to sit up, desperately putting on my usual arrogant, untouchable act. Silas wasn’t angry. He simply withdrew his hand, a look of indulgent amusement actually playing on his flawless lips. “My apologies, my lady. I was just dealing with some frozen goods. The cold must have lingered on my skin.” Frozen goods? My eyes darted to the crisp white cuff of his dress shirt. There was a faint, dark red smear on the fabric. A flurry of text rolled past: “LMAO frozen goods. You mean those players he dismembered and shoved into the meat locker?” “Good thing the diva is lazy and loves rotting in her room. If she actually took a walk around the manor, she’d realize how screwed she is.” “I read the leaks. This brat gets sliced into sashimi by the boss and eaten raw at the end.” “Well, the boss grew this ingredient himself. At least he knows she’s organic, haha!” Sashimi? Me? As the words kept scrolling, pure terror seized my chest. My body was already weak, and the sudden spike of adrenaline sent me into a violent coughing fit. Silas immediately sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing circles into my back while guiding a glass of warm water to my lips. It tasted faintly of honey. Sweet and soothing. The coughing finally subsided, and my racing heart began to settle. I looked up, really looking at the man in front of me for the first time. As the most attentive butler in Blackwood Manor, Silas always wore a pristine black tailcoat. His facial features were sculpted and deep, his skin carrying a sickly, vampiric pallor. Every move he made dripped with dark, aristocratic elegance. He didn’t look like a butler. He looked like the true master of the manor. Noticing my unblinking stare, Silas swallowed. I swore a flash of crimson cut through his silver-grey eyes. He raised his hands and began loosening his tie. I immediately realized what was happening and panicked. “Stop! Keep your clothes on!” His jacket was already off. His fingers paused right at his leather belt. He looked at me, a flicker of genuine confusion crossing his face before realization dawned. “How thoughtless of me. Allow me to shower first, my lady. I will change into that servant outfit you adore so much.” Before I could even open my mouth to protest, he vanished from the room like a ghost. 2 I had never regretted anything more in my life. The manor was massive and suffocatingly dark. Even though Silas had decorated my bedroom to look like a cozy haven, with warm tapestries on the walls, fluffy wool rugs, and beautiful porcelain dolls lined up on the shelves, I was still terrified of sleeping alone. Every single night, I commanded Silas to come in and coax me to sleep. The kind of coaxing that involved him getting into my bed. I always made him strip off that stiff, formal tailcoat, leaving only a thin, white undershirt. He would pull me against his chest and read me fairy tales. I never actually listened to a word of those stories. I only cared about the feeling of being pressed against his rock-hard abs and the sharp V-line of his hips. Floating text: “Damn it, the diva is making the boss strip and cuddle her again!” “Move over and let me tag in! The boss is so hot, I want to sleep on his chest and feel those abs!” “You guys are delusional. This monster is a bloodthirsty psycho. Everything you see is a trap. Humans are just bugs to him. Who falls in love with a bug?” “Only the brave, smart heroine gets his affection! This spoiled brat is a coward with a dirty mind. It’s a miracle she’s survived this long ordering him around.” Me, the walking miracle, was currently having a mental breakdown. I hadn’t even processed half of what the floating words were telling me. In the blink of an eye, I had gone from the pampered lady of the house to a literal snack. So, when Silas returned wearing my favorite unbuttoned shirt and pulled me into his arms to read, I felt absolutely nothing. Even with his firm chest pressed flush against mine, the mood was dead. He noticed. He stopped reading, casually popping open two more buttons on his shirt to expose more skin. In my mind, Silas was now a merciless, slaughtering demon. I was terrified of him. But old habits die hard, and my hand instinctively slipped inside his shirt. His body was just too perfect. My fingers traced his skin, slowly drifting downward. Silas let out a low, muffled groan. His breathing grew heavy, the rhythm ragged. A moment later, his large hand clamped gently over my wrist, stopping me. “My lady, you cannot go any lower.” Floating text: “Ahhh keep your hands off him! Let me do it!” “See? The boss only sees her as a pet. He’d never actually let her cross the line!” “He belongs to the heroine! Get your filthy hands off him, you brat!” I bit my lip. The comments were right. Silas let me get away with murder on a daily basis because I hadn’t pushed his actual boundaries yet. Normally, I would have thrown a tantrum and kept going. He was just a butler. He couldn’t refuse his master. But now, all I could think about was becoming his midnight sashimi. I squeezed my eyes shut and yanked my hand out of his shirt. Silas froze. He clearly hadn’t expected me to actually back off. He lowered his gaze, his expression suddenly dark and utterly unreadable. “My lady, if you truly desire it, I could…” “I don’t. Get out of my room right now. I don’t want to hear any more stories. You don’t need to come at night anymore.” I scrambled out of his arms, wrapping myself tightly in the quilt and turning my back to him. The moment the words left my mouth, the temperature in the room plummeted. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel it. The heavy, suffocating weight of Silas staring unblinkingly at my back from the darkness. It felt like the cold, slimy coils of a viper slithering over every inch of my skin. “Are you dissatisfied with my performance tonight, my lady?” It was a trap. A deadly, literal trap. My heart hammered against my ribs as my brain desperately spun a lie. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re freezing! You’re so cold I can’t even get comfortable!” The comments mentioned that monsters ran colder than humans. I technically wasn’t lying. Silas didn’t say a word. The silence in the room was deafening. I swallowed hard, fully preparing myself to die right there in my bed. Suddenly, the warmth returned. That crushing, horrific pressure vanished completely, as if I had imagined the whole thing. The mattress shifted as he stood up. He even paused to tuck the edges of my blanket in. “I understand.” “Sleep well, my lady.” He walked out. It took hours for the tension to leave my muscles. That oppressive, murderous aura he had just leaked… it was terrifying. So that was the real Silas. 3 After that night, the floating text showed up all the time. I walked out into the grand corridor. Text: “The diva is so clueless. Has she never actually looked at the wallpaper?” I stiffly turned my head toward the walls. The elegant crimson floral patterns I had passed a hundred times suddenly snapped into horrifying focus. If I squinted, those flower petals weren’t flowers at all. They were bloody handprints, dragged downward in pure agony by people trying to escape. I slapped a hand over my mouth and practically ran to the main parlor. The parlor was a masterpiece of gothic luxury, brightly lit, with a massive crimson carpet covering the stone floor. Just as I let out a sigh of relief… Text: “The boss literally entertains the players here before massacring them. That carpet isn’t red fabric. It’s dyed with human blood.” “Those candles burning on the tables? Rendered from human fat.” “And the grand chandelier up there is sculpted from cracked skulls.” I had nowhere to hide. Through the lens of these floating words, the gorgeous manor I called home melted away into a blood-soaked slaughterhouse. The quiet, efficient maids and footmen? Flesh-eating monsters in disguise. The beautiful rose bushes in the garden? Carnivorous plants that drained humans dry. And Silas. The true lord of the manor. He was the most brutal anomaly in this entire horror dimension. He delighted in hunting players in the most agonizing ways possible. No one had ever survived more than three nights here. Except me. Not only had I lived in luxury for three years, but I had strutted around treating this psycho boss like my personal footstool. I was officially panicking. According to the text, the heroine was arriving in half a month. That would be my execution date. I had to find a way out of this game. I had to get away from Silas. 4 When I casually brought up the idea of taking a stroll outside the manor grounds, Silas gracefully lifted my hand and pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. “My lady, I have told you before. The outside world is far too dangerous.” I faked a bratty scowl. “I don’t care! I’m suffocating in this dusty old house. I want fresh air!” A thoughtful look crossed his pale features. “If you insist. I will accompany you.” I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t planning to run today anyway; I just needed to map out the escape routes. I spun around to head out the doors, but Silas’s arm shot out to block me. My stomach dropped, thinking he’d changed his mind. Instead, he took a thick velvet cloak from a terrified-looking maid and meticulously draped it over my shoulders. “It is bitterly cold outside, and your constitution is delicate. We must keep you warm.” His expression was so serious, so focused. He looked like a devoted caretaker genuinely terrified I might catch a cold. My spoiled, impossible personality was honestly entirely his fault for enabling me this much. Fully bundled up, we set off. The woods surrounding the estate were damp and pitch black, echoing with the distant, guttural shrieks of monsters. But with the ultimate boss walking right next to me, nothing dared to show its face. I barely walked a mile before I got tired. Out of pure habit, I ordered Silas to carry me. A split second later, I realized that acting like a diva was a fast track to the meat locker. I opened my mouth to take it back, but I was already swept off my feet into his arms. His signature scent—crushed pine and winter frost—filled my lungs. I pressed my face against his chest as he walked, his stride effortless. “Next time you wish to leave the house, simply tell me to carry you from the start. You needn’t tire your own feet.” I blinked in surprise. Mostly because he didn’t feel like a corpse anymore. “You’re… really warm today.” Silas looked down. “Does this mean I am permitted to return to your bed tonight, my lady?” Staring into those hypnotic silver eyes, my brain short-circuited. “Yes.” The corner of his mouth curved into a breathtaking smirk. He pressed his lips to my forehead. “It would be my absolute honor.” The forest was massive, and the manor sat at its dead center. We only mapped the inner perimeter before heading back. As soon as we returned, my coughing flared up again. Text: “She’s just a normal human. Staying inside a horror dimension this long is rotting her body from the inside out.” “Even if the boss doesn’t kill her, she’ll drop dead on her own pretty soon.” Silas walked in carrying a steaming bowl of medicine. He blew on every spoonful until the temperature was perfect before pressing it to my lips. When the bowl was empty, he pulled a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and gently dabbed the corners of my mouth. Then he left to prepare my afternoon tea. The truth was, Silas hadn’t known how to take care of a human when I first met him. I had trained him. Sometimes, I found myself drowning in the custom-built paradise he created for me. The comments were right. Monsters were natural-born manipulators. But I didn’t belong here. I snapped out of my daze. My resolve hardened. I had to escape. 5 That night, Silas showered and came to my room. Just like old times, he pulled me against his chest and started reading. His body heat was completely normal now. Out of sheer reflex, I snuggled deeper into his embrace. He stroked my hair. “Comfortable, my lady?” I nodded. Even while telling myself to stay sharp, the next morning I woke up sprawled all over him. My arms were locked around his neck, my leg thrown over his waist. It was muscle memory at this point. I opened my eyes to find him staring at me, those silver-grey eyes crinkling at the corners. I went completely rigid. “Good morning, Silas.” “Good morning, my lady.” His voice was naturally raspy and unfairly sexy in the morning. He sat up, dropping a lazy kiss on my forehead. “Sleep a little longer. I’ll go prepare breakfast.” Once he was gone, I jumped out of bed and started pacing the halls. If I was going to run, I needed cardio. Pacing a castle this huge was a solid workout. After a while, I noticed how eerily silent the manor was today. Text: “A fresh batch of human players is getting dropped into the meat grinder today.” “Shame the heroine isn’t in this batch. She could have met the boss early.” “Can the diva just die already? She’s living the dream up there and I’m jealous!” New players? Today? Thinking back, the manor did receive “guests” every now and then. I had just never cared. I stayed up in the penthouse suite living my best life. I had no idea what happened downstairs. Whenever I heard screaming, Silas just told me the staff was catching rats. … I assumed tonight would be like all the others. I went back to my room to stretch. Suddenly, my bedroom door burst open. A man covered in blood and dirt stumbled inside. He stared at the pink plushies and lace curtains in absolute shock. When he spotted me, he immediately leveled a rusted pipe at my head. But after a few seconds, realizing I was just a human girl in pajamas, his aggressive stance broke into frantic desperation. “How did you get up here? I didn’t see you downstairs!” I was just as stunned as he was. I couldn’t believe a player had actually survived the monsters, evaded Silas, and made it to the forbidden top floor. He clearly thought I was just another player trying to survive the game. The guy lowered his pipe and rushed over, sweating profusely. “You used an item to teleport up here, right? Listen to me, almost everyone downstairs is dead. The boss is going to realize we’re gone any second. We have to run!” My eyes lit up. “You know a way out?” His face fell. “I found the secret escape tunnel. But the door is locked, and the master key is on the boss. It’s impossible.” He gripped his hair in despair, his voice cracking. “We were so close. We’re going to die here…” Keys? I casually reached into my bedside drawer and pulled out a massive iron ring heavy with brass keys. “I’ve got all the keys right here.” His jaw hit the floor. “How the hell did you get those?!” Silas had personally handed them to me, of course. I needed them to access the locked conservatories for my walks. I lied through my teeth: “Found them under the bed.” He snatched the ring, tears of relief in his eyes. “Oh my god. We’re getting out. We’re actually going to escape!” I was thrilled. What a stroke of luck. Following the guy’s lead, we practically sprinted down the hidden servants’ stairs and found the iron door to the tunnel. The key turned with a heavy clack. We both let out a massive breath and slipped inside. The tunnel was damp and seemingly endless. A single candle flickered on the stone walls every fifty feet, providing terrible visibility. The deeper we went, the darker it got. After what felt like hours, a faint bluish light appeared in the distance. The guy choked back a sob. “The exit! We did it! We’re actually clearing an SSS-rank game!” The crushing weight on my chest finally lifted. I picked up my pace. “Careful, babe, the ground gets uneven here,” the guy called back. I nodded, but a second later my foot caught on a jagged rock. I pitched forward. Before I hit the dirt, a strong arm clamped around my waist, catching me effortlessly. “Thanks for the catch,” I breathed. Up ahead, the guy stopped. “What? I didn’t catch you. I’m over here.” My blood ran cold. The absolute worst premonition slammed into my gut. A second later, freezing breath brushed against the back of my neck. A dark, amused whisper slid directly into my ear. “You should be thanking me, my lady.” The moment the words left his lips, every single unlit candle in the mile-long tunnel violently erupted into dark red flames. The claustrophobic space was instantly illuminated in a hellish crimson glow. Silas’s terrifying aura completely swallowed me from behind, drowning me in his cold pine scent. The guy ahead of us slowly turned around. When he saw the man holding my waist, his pupils shrank to pinpricks. He stumbled backward, his legs giving out completely. “T-The Boss!” he screamed, dropping to his knees. Silas didn’t even look at him. He was staring down at me, the silver in his eyes rapidly bleeding into a predatory red. “I told you,” Silas murmured. “Next time you wish to leave the house, simply tell me to carry you. You needn’t tire your own feet.” “Walking this far… my lady must be exhausted.” My heart battered against my ribs like a trapped bird. The guy on the floor scrambled up, completely losing his mind to the terror. He bolted toward the exit light. “Sorry, babe! Better you than me!” His footsteps echoed wildly until they faded into nothing. Silas didn’t chase him. He just kept his glowing eyes locked onto mine. Text: “She’s dead. The brat finally played herself. Direct elimination.” “The boss hates disobedience more than anything. Prep the carving knives, she’s dinner.” My mind went completely blank. Silas scooped me up into his arms, turning his back on the exit, and started walking us all the way back to the manor. The flickering red flames cast sharp, demonic shadows across his perfect face. The light of the exit grew smaller and smaller until it vanished completely. I spent the entire walk trying to formulate an excuse, but my throat was closed tight. When we entered the manor and walked past the kitchens, I squeezed my eyes shut and played dead, waiting for the butcher’s knife. It never came. I was gently lowered into my own plush, feather-soft bed. I opened my eyes, utterly confused. Silas stood over me. The gentle butler act was gone. His expression was dangerously dark. This was it. He was going to kill me. He leaned over me. I flinched, trying to pull away, but he pinned my shoulders to the mattress. His face stopped inches from mine. Somehow, during the stumble in the tunnel, I had scraped my temple. A tiny bead of blood welled up on the skin. Silas leaned in, and the rough heat of his tongue swiped across the scratch. Wet. Slow. Agonizingly deliberate. My heart skipped a beat. A bizarre, electric shiver shot down my spine, making my toes curl. I let out a tiny, involuntary whimper. The mix of absolute terror and undeniable attraction was making me lose my mind. I stared at the sharp line of his throat, the dark hunger in his eyes, and before I could stop myself, I tilted my chin up to kiss him. He pulled back instantly. “My apologies, my lady. I overstepped.” His voice was perfectly controlled again. “You were out in the damp for too long. I will fetch you some hot milk so you do not catch a chill.” He turned and walked out. He didn’t ask a single question. He didn’t ask why I was in the tunnel, he didn’t ask about the player, and he definitely didn’t say the word ‘escape’. When he returned with the glass of milk, I stared at it, half-convinced it was laced with cyanide. But if Silas wanted me dead, he could just snap my neck. I chugged the whole glass. Silas stood perfectly still, watching me. As I swallowed, his own throat bobbed in tandem. “Drink slowly, my lady. Do not choke.” I gripped the empty glass, desperately trying to do damage control. “Silas, that weird man burst into my room spouting absolute nonsense about games and escaping. I didn’t understand a word of it.” I paused, forcing my tone to pitch into its usual bratty annoyance. “He dragged me out of my room! I was terrified, so I just followed him! He was totally insane.” Silas took the glass from my white-knuckled grip and placed it on the nightstand. He reached out and gently smoothed my hair back. “Outsiders are always spouting nonsense,” he agreed softly. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a dark, intimate purr meant only for me. “They only want to trick you into leaving this safe place.” “But I am the only one in this world who truly cares for you.” He smiled, his long fingers hooking under my chin, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. “Isn’t that right, my lady?” Text: “Holy crap the tension. The butler dominating the master. This is spicy.” “The boss isn’t playing along anymore.” “The power dynamic just flipped. Let’s see the diva act tough now.” I was genuinely terrified of the look in his eyes. I nodded quickly. Satisfied, he released my chin. “Good girl.” “It is late. Time to coax you to sleep.” He stood up. “I will shower first.” The moment the bathroom door clicked shut, I let out a massive breath I didn’t know I was holding. My brain scrambled to figure out how to get back to that tunnel. Text: “Lmao she doesn’t even know the tunnel was fake.” “The boss rigged that passage a long time ago. The real exit looks nothing like that.” “Haha that poor bastard ran all night only to realize the ‘exit’ led directly into the manor’s torture chambers. The monsters down there are having a field day with him right now.” “Honestly, out of all the players, he got the worst death.” My blood turned to ice. I clutched the sheets, horrified. The exit was a trap. The comments kept rolling: “For the record, the real exit is the dried-up well in the back gardens.” “If you jump in, you leave the dimension. But no one’s ever made it. Those man-eating roses turn players into fertilizer before they even get close.” “Plus, the boss is always home. Who’d risk it?” The well. The back gardens. I burned the words into my brain. 6 For the next few days, I played the part flawlessly. On the surface, I was the same demanding, insufferable heiress. I ate the extravagant meals, complained about the tea, and let Silas pamper me. He was even more attentive than before, testing the temperature of my water against his own wrist before handing it to me. But I noticed the changes. A massive antique mirror suddenly appeared in the hallway. When I walked past it, my reflection smiled a fraction of a second too late. A little porcelain cat statue was placed on the staircase railing. No matter what angle I walked from, its black glass eyes followed me. Even the ghost-like servants who usually hid in the shadows started mopping floors and arranging flowers right outside my doors. They were watching me. Every single pair of eyes was a silent reminder: Silas hadn’t forgotten my little field trip. He just chose not to speak of it. My skin crawled constantly. At night, I lay against his chest, listening to his deep voice narrate a story about a cursed village’s blood sacrifice. I watched the text float above us. It mentioned that Blair, the legendary heroine he was destined to fall for, would arrive in exactly one week. I shifted, burying my face into his shirt. He stopped reading, looking down. “My lady?” “Keep reading,” I muttered into his chest. “As you wish.” His hand patted my back in a slow, rhythmic motion, like he was soothing a temperamental cat. I closed my eyes, running the garden route through my head. I knew the path. But with the monster patrols and my own pathetic stamina, there was zero chance I could sneak past them alive. Then, a crucial line of text caught my eye: “On the night of the full moon, the boss falls into a forced slumber. All the monsters in the manor become sluggish and blind. It’s the only weakness in the system, but no player has ever lived long enough to see the full moon.” The full moon. I opened my eyes and stared out the heavy glass window. The moon hanging in the dark sky was almost completely round. Three days. I just had to wait three days.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “418520”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel