Category: English

1. I got a ten-thousand-dollar year-end bonus, and my boyfriend insisted I treat him to a fancy dinner. The bill came. Eighty thousand dollars. Stunned and realizing I’d been scammed, I refused to pay. The restaurant owner had me tied up, snarling that if I didn’t cough up the money, he’d make sure I disappeared. I took a closer look at him, and my blood boiled. Wasn’t this my father’s man, Hugh “The Panther” Pane? My dad, Lucas Thorne, is a mob boss. He’s also completely obsessed with his daughter. When my mom divorced him, I couldn’t stand his life of constant violence and refused to see him. He stood before me with tears in his eyes and swore he’d go straight. But all these years later, it looked like his men were still up to their old tricks! And they had the audacity to tie me up! … “Trying to dine and dash? You got another thing coming, sweetheart. Don’t you know whose turf you’re on?” “Pay up, or you’re leaving an arm behind!” A group of menacing thugs surrounded me. One of them held a heavy meat cleaver, tapping it against my shoulder as if measuring his cut. My heart leaped into my throat. Was this place a front? No wonder four dishes and a bottle of wine cost eighty grand. This wasn’t a dinner; it was a shakedown. I took a deep breath, forcing my voice to stay calm. “Where’s my boyfriend? Where’s Jim?” If it wasn’t for Jim insisting we come to this place, I never would have set foot in this godforsaken corner of the city. The decor was opulent, screaming expensive, but I figured my ten-thousand-dollar bonus would more than cover it. I never imagined the bill would be eighty thousand. This had to be a setup. They could have just mugged me, but no, they served me a full meal first. At the mention of Jim, one of the thugs sneered. “Looking for him won’t do you any good. He’s the one who told us to grab you.” “Said you were a real cash cow. Said eighty grand was nothing, that you could pull out eight hundred if you had to! Looks like he misjudged. Our lucky day, huh?” “If you can’t pay, we’ll just break your legs and toss you into the Gilded Cage. You’ll earn back that eighty grand soon enough.” The Gilded Cage did not sound like a finishing school. I yelled, “I’m not going! This is kidnapping and extortion! It’s illegal! Let me go!” The man holding the cleaver laughed as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. “Illegal? Honey, around here, I am the law.” “You don’t want to go to the Gilded Cage? Fine. Pay the bill. Otherwise, I’ve got plenty of ways to make you suffer.” With a cruel twist of his lips, he grabbed me by the neck and plunged my head into a nearby fish tank. The suffocating pressure was blinding. I struggled, my lungs burning, until he finally pulled me up. I gasped for air, water streaming down my face. It was time to negotiate. “I’ll pay,” I choked out. “But I don’t have that much on me right now. Let me make a phone call. I can have someone bring the money.” It was true. My mother managed all my earnings. The ten-thousand-dollar bonus was the only money in my personal account. They could drown me, but I couldn’t produce eighty grand. The words had barely left my mouth when a man with a thick, bushy beard slapped me across the face. “Dressed head to toe in designer clothes and you don’t have eighty grand? Who are you kidding?” “Make a phone call? You think we’re stupid? You call the cops, and you’re dead.” Just then, one of the younger goons spoke up impatiently. “Hugh, let’s just cut the crap and send her to the Gilded Cage already. A face like that? She’ll probably earn way more than eighty grand.” I looked closer at the man they called Hugh, the one with the beard. He seemed… familiar. Wait a minute. Wasn’t that Hugh Pane? Hugh “The Panther” Pane. My father’s right-hand man. My dad, Lucas Thorne, was a notorious mob boss, but he was even more notorious for being a doting father. My mother had been swept up in his whirlwind romance, a classic case of forceful charm leading to marriage and then to me. But she eventually grew tired of his domineering ways and decided to leave. I chose not to go with him, unable to stomach his world of violence. Lucas had stood before me, his eyes red, and swore on his life he would clean up his act. And now, all these years later, here was his top lieutenant, still running the same old rackets. And he had tied me up. If I hadn’t been studying abroad for so long, and if my eyesight wasn’t so bad, I would have recognized him sooner. My shock turned to fury. “Hugh Pane, you’ve got a death wish! How dare you tie me up!” The younger goon who had spoken earlier froze, then slapped me again. “You’re the one with a death wish! You think you can just use our boss’s name like that?” He raised his fist to strike me again. Hugh stopped him, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “How do you know my name?” I thought he’d finally recognized me. “Because I’m Lucas Thorne’s daughter!” I yelled. “Let me go, right now! If my dad finds out about this, he’ll have your head!” The suspicion on Hugh’s face immediately morphed into derision. “You? Posing as the boss’s daughter? You got a lot of nerve, lady!” I was speechless. “I really am his daughter! I’m Tiffany Thorne!” Hugh grabbed me by the collar of my dress and sneered. “Your boyfriend was calling you Jessica Thorne all through dinner. You think we’re all deaf?” “I am Tiffany!” I explained desperately. “I go by Jessica now because my parents divorced! I took my mom’s last name!” “If you don’t believe me, look at my phone’s lock screen! It’s a picture of me and my dad!” Hugh was my father’s most trusted man. He had to know my mother’s name. But the next thing I knew, a sharp pain shot through my shin as Hugh struck me with a wooden bat. “The boss and the missus are as happy as can be! How dare you say they’re divorced!” “You spread another rumor like that, and I’ll rip your mouth off!” I gasped, a cold dread washing over me. I’d forgotten. My father had kept the divorce a secret, afraid of the gossip it would cause my mother. I never thought his attempt to protect her would end up damning me. Just then, another goon handed my phone to Hugh. A flicker of hope ignited within me. Once he saw the lock screen, he’d know. But Hugh held the phone, squinting at the screen and then back at my face for a long moment. Then he spat on the floor. “I can’t believe I almost fell for your act. You’ve been playing me this whole time!” “You think I’m gonna believe a photoshopped picture of you with the boss?” “Tiffany is a sweet, chubby girl, a real picture of good fortune. You, with your plastic-surgery V-line face, you dare to impersonate her?” He raised the bat again, ready to strike. I was horrified. It was true, I used to be chubby. But after high school, my mom sent me to a weight-loss camp. I lost fifty pounds. That, combined with makeup and filters… I used to love it when people told me how thin and beautiful I looked. Now, the irony was just crushing. Just as the bat was about to come down on my head, a woman with heavy makeup stepped in and stopped him. “Hugh, what if this little tramp is the boss’s mistress?” “If you hurt her and he comes looking for you, what then?” Hugh shot her a furious glare. “You looking to die too? The boss and the missus are solid. He’d never have a mistress!” “Now, she’s not getting out of here even if she pays! There’s nothing I hate more than a homewrecker!” With that, he ordered his men to cut my face. My hands and feet were bound. I couldn’t move an inch. I screamed in terror, “I really am Lucas Thorne’s daughter! If you touch me, he’ll kill you all!” But a moment later, I heard the sound of fabric ripping as they tore my dress. “You dare to disrespect the missus? Not even God himself can save you now!” A wave of despair washed over me. Just then, a knock came at the door. “Hugh, the boss is here! He wants to book a private room for a birthday party! He’s looking for you!” Hugh’s face lit up. “Really? If the boss is putting in this much effort, it must be for the missus!” He pointed a disgusted finger at me. “Get rid of this trash. I don’t want the boss to see her. She’ll ruin the mood.” With that, he and his men hurried out of the room. The only person Hugh called “boss” was my father, Lucas Thorne. Could it be? Was he here? Tears welled in my eyes, but I knew I had to hold them back. If I was going to escape, this was my only chance. As they threw a bag over my head and dragged me out the door, I lashed out with a powerful kick, aiming for the groin of the man beside me. He grunted in pain and let go. I stumbled forward, running blindly. Unfamiliar with the layout, I tumbled down a flight of stairs. The fall left me dazed. Before I could recover, the man I’d kicked caught up and slammed something hard against the back of my head. “You little bitch! You dare kick me? I’ll beat you to death!” The world spun. Through the haze, I thought I saw my father’s silhouette at the end of the hallway. Then I was dragged away, and everything went black. When I woke up, I was tied up in a storage closet. My mouth was taped shut. My clothes were still on; I hadn’t been assaulted. Had they all rushed off to greet my father? That meant he was still here. As long as he was here, I still had a chance. I scooted over to the corner and began desperately rubbing the ropes against a sharp edge. Just then, I heard hushed voices outside the door. I pressed my ear against the wood and listened. It was Jim.

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1 Two days before our engagement party, my fiancé, Christian, was on one knee, adjusting the hem of my dress when his fingers brushed against my ankle. “Lorna,” he murmured, his touch light, “how come I’ve never seen you in heels? You have such beautiful feet.” I was busy fussing with the waistline of my gown in the mirror. “I can’t get used to them,” I said dismissively. “They hurt when I walk.” “You should try. They’d be perfect with this mermaid dress.” His palm slid up the line of my leg, pausing at the soft hollow behind my knee. “Red-soled stilettos. The kind that gives you a flash of red when you walk, that makes your hips sway… You’d look absolutely stunning.” I met his gaze in the mirror. It was intense, focused. “Since when did you become a fashion expert?” Christian’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, his eyes darting away from mine. “I, uh, flipped through a few magazines.” I said nothing. He moved closer, his fingers gently tipping my chin up. “What, you don’t believe me?” His touch was warm, but his gaze flickered again, just for an instant. “Of course I do,” I said, forcing a bright smile as I poked him playfully in the chest. “I’m just surprised that Christian Price, the esteemed attorney, has time for this kind of research.” He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “For you, my love, I’d learn anything.” He pulled away. “I’ll go get you a glass of water.” He turned and left the room, leaving his phone behind on the vanity. I hesitated for a moment before picking it up. My fingers typed in the password—my birthday, the same it had always been. It was the first time in all our years together that I had ever looked through his phone. The call logs, messages, and photo gallery were all spotless. Clean. A wave of relief washed over me, and I chided myself for being so suspicious. But as my thumb hovered over the search bar, some dark instinct took over. I typed in “red-soled stilettos.” The search pulled up a blocked contact. The profile picture was blank, the username a single word: “Stella.” It was impossible to unblock and add her from his phone. I memorized the contact ID and switched to my burner account on my own phone. After a quick search, a profile with a blurry side-profile picture popped up. I sent a friend request. She accepted almost instantly. A message came through: “A fan?” My heart seized, and the blood ran cold in my veins. “Yeah,” I typed, my hands starting to tremble. “I saw you in a magazine. A friend of a friend gave me your contact.” She didn’t seem to question it. “Haha, thanks, babe! So sweet of you. Which friend was it? Doesn’t matter, welcome! ” “You know, Mr. Henderson,” I lied, pulling a name out of thin air. Sweat beaded on my palms. She sent back a cute GIF. “Ooh, say no more! That explains it. Thanks for the love! ” After a short exchange of pleasantries, I clicked on her profile feed. The most recent posts were professionally edited selfies and photos from events. The woman in them had vibrant, sharp features and an enviably lean figure. The backdrops were a rotation of high-end restaurants, backstage at fashion shows, and boutique gyms. A model, for sure. I kept scrolling down, my thumb moving faster and faster, until I stopped on a post from a week ago. It was a picture of her back, the pose languid but powerfully seductive. She was on her tiptoes, showing off the flash of a familiar red sole. This photo, unlike the others, had a caption. “Thank you for the gift, Mr. C. ” Mr. C? A phantom hand clenched around my heart, squeezing the air from my lungs. I clamped a hand over my mouth, terrified I would scream, but a broken, choked sob escaped anyway. Suddenly, everything clicked into place. The mysterious luxury brand receipt I’d found in his coat pocket last week. His recent string of late nights “at the office.” Even the hushed phone call on the balcony two nights ago—the one he’d abruptly ended when he saw I was awake, claiming it was an urgent case. So this was the truth. Ten years. Ten years we had been together, and we were finally on the verge of making it official. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—believe that the man who had loved and cherished me for a decade would betray me. But a cold, clear voice in the back of my mind whispered the undeniable truth: My fiancé was in love with another woman. 2 My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold my phone. Plink. A single tear hit the screen. I swiped it away and opened my text messages, finding the credit card notification from the day he bought the shoes. A charge for $2,200 from a high-end shoe boutique downtown. The exact same amount as the receipt I’d found. The sound of footsteps approached the door. I quickly locked his phone and placed it back on the vanity, exactly where he’d left it. “Sorry, did I take too long?” Christian asked, walking in with a glass of water. In his other hand, he held a tell-tale orange gift box. His smile was warm, intoxicating. “Guess what I got you?” He opened the box to reveal a new designer handbag, a model that was notoriously hard to find. “An early engagement present. Do you like it?” Any other day, I would have thrown my arms around his neck and playfully scolded him for spending so much money. But now, the gesture felt like a grotesque joke. “Yes,” I managed to say. “It’s beautiful.” He smiled, ruffling my hair. “I’ll get you an even better gift for the wedding. More beautiful than this. You can start looking forward to it now.” I stared at him, a raw, acidic pain rising in my chest. God, how I wished the last ten minutes had been a nightmare. The next day, I stood in the security office of the downtown shoe boutique, my nails digging so deeply into my palms that they almost broke the skin. On the monitor, Christian had his arm wrapped around Stella’s waist, his head bent low to listen as she whispered in his ear. He took the stiletto she’d been trying on and knelt before her, gently sliding it onto her foot. The salesclerk fawned over them as he casually took Stella’s purse, waiting patiently while she admired herself in the mirror. After paying, she spun around on her tiptoes, her skirt flaring out around her. Christian reached out to steady her, his eyes burning with an intensity I hadn’t seen in years. I glanced at the date stamp on the footage. It was the night I’d stayed at the lab until dawn, rushing to finish a project so I could take my wedding leave early. He had texted me a picture of a coffee cup on his desk at the law firm, telling me he was buried in work. It was all a lie. “That gentleman is a regular,” one of the security guards muttered to the other. “Always comes in with that lady, spends ages while she tries on shoes.” “That model,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Do you have it in stock?” The salesclerk, who had been called into the room, blinked in surprise. “We do, yes, but the price…” “I’ll take them all.” I swiped my card and walked out of the store with six large gift boxes. When I got home, Christian was in the kitchen, humming as he stirred a pot of soup. “You’re back!” he called out. He stepped out of the kitchen, and his eyes fell on the small mountain of shoe boxes at my feet. His smile froze. “What… what is all this?” he asked, his voice tight. I calmly opened one of the boxes, pulled out a red-soled stiletto, and dangled it in front of him. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” I said, a razor-sharp smile on my lips. “The clerk told me they’re the most popular style.” His face went pale. “Why did you suddenly buy so many?” “Suddenly?” I tilted my head. “Aren’t you the one who suggested I try them?” His mouth opened, then closed. He looked away, his fingers nervously tracing the rim of the soup bowl on the counter. A suffocating silence filled the room. I stood up and grabbed my coat. “Something’s come up at the lab. I have to go in.” “Now?” He looked up, his eyes wide with panic. “But the engagement party is tomorrow.” “There’s an issue with the data,” I said, my tone flat as I walked out the door. “It’ll be an all-nighter. Don’t wait up.” I got in my car, turned the key, and slammed my foot on the gas. My destination wasn’t the lab. It was the location Stella had tagged in her social media post half an hour ago: a runway show for an indie designer. 3 The house lights dimmed as the final round of applause echoed through the venue. I stood in the shadows, watching Stella get swept backstage by a crowd of admirers. She was even more dazzling in person, her auburn curls bouncing with every step, her waist as fluid as a ribbon. She had a pair of eyes that could melt stone. After the crowd dispersed, I overheard two crew members talking. “Stella seemed off her game tonight. Almost twisted her ankle on the catwalk.” “Heard she’s having relationship trouble…” I followed her up to the rooftop terrace. She was leaning against the railing, a cigarette smoldering between her fingers, its cherry a tiny red star in the dark. “Stella?” I asked, feigning nervousness as I approached. “Can I… can I get a picture? I’m a huge fan.” She glanced at me, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. “A female fan?” She waved me over. “Sure, why not.” After we took the photo, I looked at her with faux concern. “Are you okay? You seem a little down.” Her expression clouded over. She stubbed out her cigarette on the railing. “Whatever. It’s not like I have a date tonight. Might as well talk.” She took a long swig from a flask she’d pulled from her purse. “You know,” she began, her voice laced with bitterness, “I really thought he’d show up tonight.” She let out a harsh laugh. “Men. Every single one of them is a piece of trash.” She took another drink and launched into her story. “I met him after a show. He sent me a bouquet of white roses, said he was captivated by my presence on the runway.” “And then?” I prompted, my own voice a stranger to my ears. “And then?” She smirked, a sly, knowing look in her eyes. “The second time we met, he took me to a private vineyard. Waited until I was a little tipsy, then kissed me. Told me he’d never met a woman as exciting as me.” My heart gave a painful thud. I remembered that night. Christian hadn’t come home, telling me he was pulling an all-nighter at the firm to prep for a major case. “Not long after, he posted a picture of an engagement ring on his social media. His, and some other woman’s.” “I knew he had a fiancée. He said she was sweet, like a little lamb, but totally boring. Spends all her time cooped up in a lab.” “It was a mutual arrangement. I needed his connections to climb the ladder.” “I’ve seen a million guys like him. Two-faced. The second his fiancée was out of town, he invited me over to his place.” “Our first time was in their marital bed.” “He tried to act all innocent afterward. Said he regretted it, that we should stop seeing each other. But all I had to do was send one text, and he’d come running back.” “He’s an animal in bed, completely wild. Refuses to use a condom. And then he has the nerve to talk about ‘not wanting to betray his fiancée.’ But the moment I wrap my arms around his neck, he forgets everything.” “Lately, he’s been trying to play the devoted partner. Says he has to do right by his fiancée, but he can’t bear to break things off with me. Please.” She snorted. “Oh, and these shoes? He bought them for me. Said they make me look like a total siren.” Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, quickly wiped the corners of her eyes, and her bright, dazzling smile snapped back into place. “Alright, little fan, duty calls. See you around.” I ducked back into the shadows of a stairwell corner and watched as she ran into a familiar embrace. Christian. He was wearing the deep gray trench coat I’d bought him for his birthday. A bouquet of white roses sat on the hood of his car. He looked so gentle, and so utterly alien. I raised my phone, my hand trembling as I hit record. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her—a deep, passionate, lingering kiss that seemed to go on forever. In that moment, my heart didn’t just break; it felt like it was being shredded by a blender. The pain was so intense I had to double over. Tears streamed down my face, hot and uncontrollable, and my whole body shook. I bit down hard on the back of my hand, swallowing my sobs. After the pain, all that was left was a hollow, crushing exhaustion. They were long gone. I collapsed onto the cold concrete, staring blankly at the moon. Tomorrow was our engagement party, the day we had been waiting for, for so long. Ten years of love, and only now was I seeing the man I was supposed to marry for who he truly was. What would I tell my parents? How could I possibly explain this? I hated myself for being so blind, for wasting a decade of my life on a lie. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a notification. An email confirmation. Without a second of hesitation, I had added my name to the list. A solo trip. Far away. With a monumental effort, I pushed myself up and staggered away from the rooftop, leaving the city lights behind me. 4 I pushed open the door to our apartment. The entryway light was still on. A sticky note was plastered to the refrigerator. Urgent case at the firm, won’t be back tonight. I promise I’ll be there on time tomorrow. Love you. The words seemed to mock me, their cheerful cursive a testament to my own stupidity. Liar. I ripped the note off the fridge and tore it into a thousand tiny pieces. I walked into the bedroom and pulled out a thick stack of faded love letters from the back of the closet—the ones he used to slip into my textbooks every day in college. I took out the photo albums filled with pictures of our travels, him always hugging me from behind, his chin resting on my head as he grinned like an idiot. From the depths of the wardrobe, I pulled out the shirt he wore on our first date, the one with my initials embroidered on the cuff. And the scarf I’d spent weeks knitting for him… I gathered them all in my arms, carried them to the bathroom, and dumped them into the tub. Then I flicked a lighter. The flame roared to life, a hungry beast devouring every last trace of “Christian and Lorna.” Next was our marital bed. He had picked it out himself, in the exact shade of blue I loved. Now, the sight of it made me sick. I grabbed a pair of shears and started cutting, slicing the mattress and the duvet into ragged strips. Then I moved through the rest of the apartment, taking a hammer to anything and everything that held a memory of him. What was once our sanctuary was now a field of wreckage. I sat in the ruins of our life together, watching the sky slowly lighten outside the window. The sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the silence. Christian pushed the door open, a smile on his face that quickly dissolved into a mask of horror. “Lorna, are you insane?!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “Do you have any idea what day it is? You’ve destroyed our home!” He rushed toward me. “Get dressed, now! Put on the gown, we can still make it!” I slapped his hand away. “The engagement is off.” “Stop screwing around, Lorna! The guests have been notified, our parents are already at the venue.” CRACK! I hurled one of the red-soled stilettos at his feet, then brought the hammer down on its heel with all my might. The heel snapped, and he flinched back as if he’d been struck himself. “What’s the matter?” I sneered. “Does this bring back a memory? Are you remembering kneeling to put it on her foot, or are you just tasting last night’s kiss?” Christian’s face went chalk-white, his lips trembling. “Lorna, please, let me explain…” “Shut up!” I grabbed the other shoe and threw it, hitting him square in the chest. He reached for my wrist, but I twisted away and slapped him across the face, so hard his head snapped to the side. He froze, clutching his cheek, a look of pure shock in his eyes. He’d never imagined his docile Lorna could be violent. I grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head up, forcing him to look at me. With my other hand, I used the sole of the shoe to strike him across the mouth, again and again. His face swelled instantly, and a trickle of blood ran from the corner of his lip. He didn’t fight back. He didn’t even struggle. He just let me do it. And I didn’t hold back. I was a cornered animal, venting every ounce of my fury on him. I didn’t stop until the shoe’s heel broke and my wrist ached. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. I scooped up a handful of the ashes from the bathtub and threw them in his face. He looked pathetic. Wrecked. Panting, I sank onto the sofa. Christian crawled toward me, blood and ash streaking down his chin, and wrapped his arms around my legs. “Lorna, I was just… I was confused for a moment…” His voice was a ragged whisper. “Ten years, Lorna. Can’t you forgive me just this once?” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “No. I have a thing about cleanliness.” “And once someone’s dirty,” I said, looking down at him with contempt, “they’re worthless to me.”

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I was the man the Celestial Queen had sworn to marry. But on the eve of our wedding, she listened to the venomous lies of my brother, Cain, and with a flick of her wrist, cast me down to the mortal realm. My sentence: to endure ten lifetimes of suffering on the wheel of reincarnation. After endless torment, I finally clawed my way back to the Celestial Realm. The moment my eyes met her icy gaze, my very soul trembled, and I scrambled to confess the sins I had never committed. “My Queen, this wretch knows his error.” “This wretch never should have defied my brother. You and he are the ones who truly belong together. My heart… my heart belongs to a swine-beast from the lower worlds…” Later, when I severed my own Celestial Core and willingly descended into the Underworld, the Celestial Queen—the woman who had hated me to the bone—humbled herself. She led the entire celestial host to the gates of the Underworld to beg for my return. … Ten lifetimes. After ten lifetimes, I stood once more in the Celestial Realm, yet I didn’t dare take a single step toward the Queen’s Elysian Palace. I had been a mere mortal. By a twist of fate, I found the Celestial Queen, gravely wounded after a cataclysmic battle between gods and demons. I nursed her back to health, caring for her tenderly for a decade, and in that quiet solitude, a love bloomed between us. When she recovered, she brought my family and me to the Celestial Realm, vowing to marry me as a reward for saving her life. But that peace was short-lived. A petty argument with my brother was all it took. The Queen and my own father cast me back into the mortal world to “learn my place.” Ten lifetimes of agony. I was reborn as a cripple, wasting away in despair. I was reborn as a pig, a dog, destined only for the butcher’s block. I became the laughingstock of the Celestial Realm. “What are you waiting for? Get in there. Don’t keep the Queen waiting, or she might add another lifetime to your sentence.” My father’s voice, sharp and cold, prodded me from behind. I turned to look at his face, a mask of frosted stone, and a bitter ache bloomed in my chest. I remembered him in the mortal world—a kind, gentle man who indulged my every whim and tantrum. Since entering the Celestial Realm, everything had changed. He grew colder by the day, his heart consumed by ambition and a lust for power. “You deserved every moment of your punishment,” he added, his voice devoid of warmth. “It’s what you get for running your mouth and trying to steal your brother’s glory for saving the Queen.” Once, I would have screamed, cried, and fought back. Now, I just lowered my head in silence. Ten lifetimes on the wheel had extinguished every spark of defiance in me, grinding my spirit down to dust. I’d even come to believe that being a pathetic, cowering dog was a good thing. At least it meant I would live. Suddenly, the great doors of the palace creaked open. A violent, unseen force ripped me from my feet, dragging me into the hall before vanishing just as quickly. I crashed to the marble floor like a puppet with its strings cut. My soul, already fractured from the cycles of rebirth, screamed in protest, threatening to shatter completely. Pain. A white-hot, blinding pain. My cry of agony echoed in the vast throne room, yet no one—not a single soul—cared if I lived or died. My father acted as if he hadn’t seen a thing. And there, upon the throne that marked her as the supreme ruler of the heavens, sat Seraphina, the Celestial Queen. Her expression was utterly indifferent, her eyes barren of pity or compassion. She was a goddess carved from ice. It was hard to believe she had once told me I was like the radiant sun, unique and irreplaceable in all the realms. “You are in the presence of your Queen. Are you not going to kneel?” my father’s impatient voice snapped in my ear. Once, my pride would have refused. I would have stood, defiant to the last. Now, I was the very picture of obedience. I scrambled to my knees, pressing my forehead to the cold floor. “This wretch… greets the Queen.” The silence in the hall stretched for an eternity before her voice, cool and distant, finally broke it. “Raise your head.” Fear coiled in my gut. “This wretch does not dare.” But a gentle gust of wind, a wisp of her power, forced my chin upward. I saw her brow furrowed in a tight knot, and my heart plummeted. “Have you learned your lesson this time? Have you finally learned your place?” Seraphina asked, her voice dripping with frost. “This wretch has learned his lesson.” “This wretch understands the rules.” “I beg the Queen to be merciful. Spare this wretch.” I bowed again and again, my body trembling as if submerged in a frozen lake, terrified of what new punishment she would devise. The celestial officials surrounding the throne began to whisper amongst themselves. “Look at Aidan. So proud before, wasn’t he? Stood in this very hall and swore he’d die before he’d kneel. Now he’s more obedient than a whipped dog.” “Obedient? It’s an act. When defiance failed, he turned to groveling. He’s just trying to win the Queen’s pity.” “I agree. A leopard can’t change its spots. Aidan is the same worthless fraud who tried to steal his brother’s glory and manipulate his way into the Queen’s bed.” Their words were easy, spoken from a place of safety and privilege. If they had been forced to endure what I had, they too would live every moment with their tails tucked between their legs, terrified to even breathe wrong. Seraphina seemed to believe their poison. She lifted a hand, and a wave of force slammed into me, sending me flying across the hall. I collided with a massive pillar and crumpled to the ground, coughing up mouthfuls of blood. The world swam in a haze of pain. I was close to losing consciousness. Even so, I forced myself to push up onto my elbows and plead with her. “My Queen, after ten lifetimes, I finally understand. I will never again stand between you and my brother.” “My heart belongs to a swine-beast from the lower worlds.” “I beg you…” Before I could finish, Seraphina shot to her feet, her eyes blazing with a sudden, sharp fury. I froze, too terrified to continue. “A swine-beast? You dare dishonor the heavens with such filth? Guards! Drag Aidan out and give him three hundred lashes from the divine whip!” she commanded, her beautiful eyes narrowed into cruel slits. “No!” “My Queen, have mercy! Please, just this once, forgive me…” I kowtowed desperately. But Seraphina was unmoved. My father stood by, silent, allowing the guards to drag me from the hall. They bound me to the great Sky-Piercing Pillar and the divine whip began to fall. My blood soaked through my grey tunic, painting it crimson. My shrieks echoed through the plaza. I fainted multiple times, only to be jolted back to consciousness by buckets of icy water. After three hundred lashes, I was cut down and lay in a heap on the cold stone like a broken animal, unable to summon even a sliver of strength. A bottomless, bitter sorrow flooded my heart. What had I done? What had I ever done to deserve this endless torture? “Ten lifetimes, and you still haven’t learned. You truly are a lost cause,” my father sneered, stepping carefully around me as he passed. “Walk home yourself. I don’t want your foul luck rubbing off on me.” I had no tears left to cry. It was I who found Seraphina, bleeding and broken. It was I who had never told a lie in my life. It was I who had given her my whole, honest heart. So why, after a single sentence from my brother claiming my deeds as his own, did she and my father believe him without question? After ten lifetimes, I still couldn’t understand. A long time passed. I finally managed to gather a sliver of strength. I pushed myself to my feet and staggered forward into the biting wind. After a few steps, my legs gave out. As I started to fall, a pair of gentle hands caught me. I turned my head and saw a woman in emerald-green robes. It was Luna, Seraphina’s junior celestial sister. “I was only in seclusion for three hundred years,” she murmured, her eyes filled with a pained confusion. “Aidan, how did you become… this?” For the first time since my return, someone showed me an ounce of concern. The old Aidan would have poured out his heart, desperate for someone, anyone, to listen to his story and believe his innocence. But now, I could only manage a bitter smile. “I committed a grave sin. I was sentenced to ten lifetimes on the wheel.” People change. I had learned that lesson all too well. My father, my brother, Seraphina… they had all changed. I couldn’t trust anyone anymore, terrified that any word I spoke would be carried back to my tormentors, earning me even more pain. “A grave sin?” Luna’s brow furrowed. “I have been in the Celestial Realm for a long time, and I have never heard of anyone being sentenced to ten lifetimes. Your very soul is on the verge of dissipating.” She clearly wanted to know more. I didn’t dare speak. I just lowered my head. “Never mind,” Luna sighed softly. “Let me take you home.” She placed a small, glowing pill in my mouth and then, before I could protest, lifted me into her arms and took to the sky. The warmth of her soft embrace was so foreign, so unexpected, that it left me stunned. I felt a faint heat rise in my cheeks. “Luna,” I managed to say, “you should put me down. Being seen with me will only bring you trouble.” This time, she remained silent. I didn’t know what else to say. The pill she’d given me was already working its magic. I could feel my fractured soul knitting itself back together, and the searing pain in my body faded to a dull ache. When we arrived at my family’s estate, my parents and Cain were at the dining table, laughing and talking. The entire residence was draped in crimson banners and silks. It seemed Cain and Seraphina’s wedding was imminent. No wonder she had been so cruel to me in the throne room. She was proving her devotion to my brother. The moment Luna landed with me in her arms, my father’s chopsticks clattered to the floor. “Aidan!” he roared, his face a mask of fury. “How dare you! You are a condemned sinner! How dare you allow the celestial Luna to carry you! Get down! Get down at once! Don’t you dare soil her robes!” My mother quickly chimed in with her agreement. Cain said nothing, but a flicker of jealousy and resentment burned in his eyes. I still couldn’t understand why he hated me so much. He was an orphan my parents had taken in, and they had showered him with love and affection. I had always treated him as my true brother. When Seraphina brought us to the Celestial Realm, I made sure he wasn’t left behind. And in return, he stabbed me in the back. He claimed it was he who had found the wounded Queen. He claimed that for the first three months of her coma, it was he who had cared for her, even using his own blood as a magical catalyst for her medicine. The truth was, the night I brought Seraphina home, Cain was disgusted. He forced me to move her to a ruined temple deep in the mountains, where I cared for her in secret. But Seraphina believed his every lie, and my parents sided with him completely. “It’s no matter,” Luna said, waving a dismissive hand. She glanced around at the celebratory decorations, her voice laced with meaning. “No matter what terrible crime Aidan has committed, you are still his family. You shouldn’t treat him with such contempt.” “Celestial Luna, you don’t know the whole story,” my father said, rushing to pull her aside to list my supposed transgressions. I didn’t bother to argue. “Aidan, you be a good boy now that you’re back,” my mother said, dragging me towards the back courtyard. “You should learn from your brother.” I just nodded, not daring to even look at Cain, afraid that the slightest thing would displease him and he’d run to Seraphina with another complaint. Another round of whipping was the last thing I needed. My room was stark and bare, containing only a bed. Not even a table. But compared to my life during the reincarnations, it was paradise. When I was an animal, I had no bed, only the filth of a pigsty or a sheep pen. When I was lucky enough to be reborn human, I was a disfigured outcast, abandoned at birth, forced to sleep on the streets. So now, lying on this simple bed, I was content. The moment my mother left, I collapsed onto the mattress. I was so tired. I fell asleep almost instantly and, as I always did, dreamed of my childhood. A time without a care in the world. A time when I could cry when I was sad and laugh when I was happy. Suddenly, a searing pain jolted me awake. I opened my eyes to see Cain standing over my bed, a whip in his hand and a cruel, mocking smile on his lips. “Brother, I was wrong! I’m sorry! I’ll never compete with you for the Queen again, I swear!” I tumbled off the bed and onto the floor, desperately kowtowing. “When you two marry, I’ll… I’ll perform a dance to bless your union!” “Hmph.” Cain snorted, his voice dripping with venom. “You think because you’ve cozied up to Luna, you have a new protector? That your life will be easy now? That’s a pipe dream, little brother. I won’t rest until I’ve tortured you to death.” Hearing this, I began to tremble uncontrollably, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin. I couldn’t help but look up and ask, “I’m already like this. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” “Because,” he hissed, his smile turning truly sinister, “I’m afraid that one day, Seraphina’s old feelings for you might reignite.” Just as he finished speaking, the door to my room shattered inward. A celestial guard stood in the splintered frame. “By order of the Celestial Queen, the sinner Aidan is to be apprehended.” The guard bound me with celestial ropes and dragged me away. Behind me, Cain’s triumphant laughter filled the air. I knew, without a doubt, that this was his doing. Once again, I was thrown violently onto the floor of the Elysian Palace. Once again, Seraphina sat high on her throne, looking down on me with cold contempt. “Aidan,” she began, her voice edged with a new fury, “have you no shame? You have barely returned to the Celestial Realm, and you are already scheming to seduce the celestial Luna. The audacity!” This must have been Cain’s new lie. “I did not.” “Is that so?” Seraphina’s eyes narrowed. She raised her voice. “Sister Luna, show yourself and tell this court whether he speaks the truth.” As her words faded, Luna descended on a soft breeze. My heart leaped into my throat. I stared at her, my face pale, my hands and feet turning to ice. I felt a horrifying sense of déjà vu. This was it. Another betrayal was coming. Instead, Luna walked to my side and took my hand. In front of the entire court, as I stared in utter shock, she turned to the Queen and said, “It was my choice to escort Aidan home.” In that instant, my eyes welled with tears. A tiny stream of warmth flowed back into my cold, desolate heart. Seraphina’s gaze locked onto our joined hands. She gritted her teeth. “This is madness! Utter madness! A condemned sinner and a celestial maiden… how can you be together? Sister, do you feel no shame?” So that was it. The real reason she had cast me down so casually. She was ashamed of me. Luna shook her head. “Sister, I am not like you, so paralyzed by what others think, so afraid to face what is in your own heart. The first time I saw Aidan, I fell for him. But he was promised to you, so I entered seclusion to hide from my feelings.” I was stunned. I looked at Luna’s profile, my mind a whirl of confusion and disbelief. She had to be making this up. It was just a desperate ploy to save me. “Sister, you…” Seraphina’s face was a thundercloud. She clenched her fists. “Your shamelessness must be punished! It must!” Her voice boomed like thunder, echoing through the heavens. “From this day forth, Luna is stripped of her celestial rank! She and Aidan are to be banished to the Underworld! They will not return until they have guided every last wandering soul to peace! Everyone, to the Sundering Peak! I will personally tear out their Celestial Cores!” The sentence, like a bolt of lightning, reverberated through all the realms. A cold sweat drenched my body. I turned to Luna, my voice a desperate whisper. “You don’t have to throw away your immortal life for me.” To have one’s Celestial Core torn out and be banished to the Underworld… it was a punishment so severe it would destroy her future, her very existence. “It’s fine,” Luna said with a faint, carefree smile. “I’ve grown tired of the Celestial Realm anyway. A change of scenery might be nice.” She turned and began walking toward the Sundering Peak. I followed behind her, my heart a lump of bitter ash. Every being in the Celestial Realm had gathered around the Sundering Peak. When my parents saw me, they just shook their heads in disgust. My brother, Cain, wore a smirk of triumphant satisfaction. He had won again. Seraphina hovered in the air above the peak, her eyes fixed on Luna. “If you admit your mistake now, you can be spared—” Before she could finish, Luna acted. With a cry of defiance, she struck her own chest, severing her Celestial Core herself. As she did, a cascade of images, her memories, flashed in the air for all to see. Countless moments of her watching me from afar, her eyes filled with a secret longing. Even in the depths of her seclusion, suffering from a backlash of power that left her unconscious, she had whispered my name. The memories faded. Luna, her face pale but resolute, turned and leaped without hesitation into the shimmering portal to the Underworld. I was frozen. I couldn’t believe it. Luna… truly loved me. Loved me enough to destroy herself for my sake. In that moment, the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face. If I survived this, I swore to myself, I would spend the rest of my existence cherishing her. “Aidan, look at the ruin you’ve caused!” Seraphina shrieked, her rage now turning on me. “If you hadn’t seduced her, would she have done this?” With a wave of her hand, she flung me onto the center of the Sundering Peak. “I should never have been merciful! I should have let you be reborn as livestock and cripples for all eternity, to taste every last drop of suffering this world has to offer!”

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1 The night before the National Robotics Championship, I took a hammer to my masterpiece and quit. The internet exploded—forums flooded with accusations of fraud, cowardice, hacks who couldn’t handle the spotlight. Only Greg Croft, the golden boy hailed as a tech prodigy, offered hollow support to the press: “I have complete faith in Leo’s abilities. He’s the only rival I’ve ever considered my equal. Whatever’s happened, I just hope he finds his way back and proves the genius he truly is.” In my last life, the robot I’d brought to the championship was a bolt-for-bolt replica of his. No matter how I tried to expose his theft, he played the magnanimous victim online: “It’s alright. Leo can have this one. I can always build better.” His fans descended like wolves. Fueled by rage, I rebuilt overnight—until a power failure triggered a catastrophic explosion. I woke in the ICU. The internet cheered my downfall. That same night, Seraphina signed my DNR. My last thought before darkness: How did he steal my data? How did he turn her against me? Then— I opened my eyes. Back to the day before the championship. “Leo, this dynamic humanoid design is absolutely insane! We’re going to crush it this year. First place is in the bag!” My best friend Matt’s excited voice snapped me back to the present. I stared at the six-foot-tall robot before me, a violent shiver running down my spine. “I’m uploading the final specs now! Then all we have to do is wait for the live demonstration tomorrow!” Matt was already at the computer, grinning from ear to ear. “Wait!” I yelled, my voice cracking. “Stop! I have a better idea.” My hands trembled as I took the laptop. I navigated to Greg’s public project feed, my heart pounding in my chest. There it was. A video demonstration and a full spec sheet. It was a perfect copy of my robot. “What the hell?” Matt leaned over my shoulder, his face a mask of disbelief. “How is this possible? I checked his feed this afternoon, and his bot looked nothing like ours! Where did that son of a bitch get our design?” I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Last time, I had made the same check in the afternoon. Seeing that his robot was different, I had relaxed, complacent. I only discovered his theft half an hour before the submission deadline. I had frantically reported him to the organizers and posted my entire design process online, but it was useless. They didn’t believe me. Greg’s fans tore me to shreds. “Leo the Leech, at it again. First, he copies Greg’s ideas, now he’s trying to frame him. Shameless!” “Greg posted his data first, you pathetic thief. How dare you claim his work as your own?” The abuse was relentless. I had tried to prove them wrong by building a new robot overnight for the competition floor. And somehow, Greg’s robot had changed again, perfectly matching my new one. I was humiliated in front of everyone. They threw water bottles at me. Desperate, I tried to demonstrate my unique dynamic humanoid system, but the moment I powered it on, the robot exploded. The blast left me critically injured, fighting for my life in the ICU. With me out of the picture, Greg coasted to victory. He won the two-million-dollar prize and was immediately taken under the wing of a titan of the tech industry. His future was secured. And me? I was lying in a hospital bed, hovering between life and death. To make matters worse, the competition officials announced they’d found traces of high explosives in my robot’s wreckage. They concluded I had been planning some kind of attack and had become a victim of my own malice. But I knew. I knew I hadn’t put anything like that in my machine. That announcement was my death sentence. I was expelled from the university. The online mob doxed my parents. They spray-painted “FATHER OF A MONSTER” on their garage door and left funeral wreaths on their lawn. They said my parents deserved to die for bringing someone like me into the world. The night I was admitted to the hospital, Seraphina signed the papers to take me off life support, telling the world I had succumbed to my injuries. The internet rejoiced. My parents, shattered by the news of my “death,” took their own lives. My soul watched it all, a helpless, screaming ghost, refusing to move on. And then, I woke up. Back on the day before it all went wrong. This time, I will uncover the truth. I will clear my name. And I will make Greg Croft pay for every last thing he stole from me. 2 “Leo, we can still modify it! We still have time!” Matt insisted, his face pale but determined. “This competition isn’t just about the two million bucks. The winner gets mentored by Dr. Aris Thorne himself! We can’t give up.” The organizers had already replied to our initial complaint, stating they found no evidence of wrongdoing on Greg’s part. “I’ll handle the modifications myself,” I said, my voice low and steady. “Matt, you keep hounding the event staff. Don’t let them off the hook.” I took a deep breath. A second chance meant I couldn’t trust anyone, not even my closest friend. In my last life, Seraphina had been by my side the entire time I was building and modifying my robots. The memory of seeing her, after my death, tucked into the crook of Greg’s arm… there was no doubt. She was the one who leaked my designs. But she didn’t understand the complex mechanics or the code. Even if she gave him the physical blueprints, she couldn’t have accessed the core operational programming. And Greg and I… we’d been rivals since freshman year. I was his shadow. Every brilliant idea I had, he somehow produced it first, leaving me to be mocked as a copycat. We avoided each other like the plague on campus; there was no way he could have ever gotten a direct look at my work. So how? How did his robot’s programming mirror mine down to the last line of code? Even with the gift of foresight, the question gnawed at me. A sharp, stabbing pain lanced through my chest at the thought of Seraphina. Why would she betray me? We were childhood sweethearts, practically engaged. She was supposed to be my partner, yet at the most critical moment of my life, she’d been the one to push me into the abyss. Shaking my head, I slapped my own cheek, hard. Focus. The robot was all that mattered now. My fingers flew across the keyboard as I began disassembling the code and the machine. I’d already conceptualized an upgraded version of this robot, but I’d held back, opting for a more stable, conservative build for the competition. I was confident even the base model could win. I was always good at this, with a natural intuition for mechanics and programming that felt like a sixth sense. But caution was a luxury I could no longer afford. It was time to go all in. An hour later, I leaned back, letting out a ragged breath as I stared at the upgraded machine. This time, I had worked completely alone. Unless Greg Croft was literally a god, there was no way he could know the new specifications. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I was about to submit the new data to the organizers when Matt burst back into the lab. “Dude, you need to see this! Greg just posted an update!” My blood ran cold. I snatched the laptop from him and stared at the video. I couldn’t breathe. “No… it’s not possible!” The robot in Greg’s new video, the one he was showcasing with a smug grin, was my upgrade. Every last detail, every new line of code, was there on the screen. I scrolled down to see his post. His fans were already lavishing him with praise. Greg had written: “I felt my initial design was a winner, but in a competition of this caliber, you have to be willing to innovate. So, I decided to push the envelope with a significant upgrade. The performance isn’t perfectly stable yet, but if I can get some feedback from the judges, it’ll be worth the risk…” A cold dread washed over me. The core of the upgrade was a piece of programming that had come to me in a dream, a flash of pure inspiration. I treasured it like a divine gift, telling no one. Could he have hired a top-tier hacker? Was my workshop bugged? A terrifying theory began to form in my mind. “Leo, what do we do now?” Matt’s voice was a desperate whisper. “The forums… they’re tearing you apart.” 3 I stared at my phone, the screen a venomous stream of comments from Greg’s fans. “Tsk tsk, looks like the Leech ran out of material to steal.” “He’s been riding Greg’s coattails for years. Greg is a god, and Leo’s just a rat scurrying in his shadow.” … I took a deep, shuddering breath, the words blurring together. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I have another robot. I’ll use that one.” I was about to lock myself in the lab again when my phone buzzed. It was Seraphina. I had specifically told her to give me space before the competition. I stared at her name on the screen, a cold fury rising in my chest. I declined the call and blocked her number. “I don’t believe he can read my mind on this one too,” I said to Matt, my jaw set. “This animal-model robot… he can’t possibly know about it.” With the grim determination of a man on his last hope, I re-entered the workshop. This time, I cut the power to the router, severing all connection to the outside world. No hacker on earth could spy on me now. I carefully retrieved a hidden case from beneath my workbench. Inside was a project I’d poured my soul into for five years—a bio-mimicking drone. It was more powerful and versatile than any humanoid model, designed for reconnaissance in complex terrains. It was only a prototype, and I had never spoken a single word about it to anyone. Three hours later, the assembly and programming were complete. I stood back, my heart a mix of pride and anxiety, and looked at the spider-like machine. Its most unique feature was its adaptive structure; it could shift between eighteen different forms to navigate any environment. Greg could not know. He absolutely could not know. Taking a final, deep breath, I reconnected to the internet to upload the data. But the connection was lagging. The spinning loading icon on the screen felt like a harbinger of doom. My heart hammered against my ribs. The upload finally finished. I frantically pulled up Greg’s project page. His robot had changed again. It was my spider bot. My exact design. I scanned the parameters, my vision going blurry. They were identical to mine. And the timestamp on his upload was exactly one minute before mine. His latest post read: 【Hey everyone, I felt like the competition was getting crowded with humanoid bots. So, I thought I’d switch things up with this new arachnid-inspired model! If you guys like it, maybe I’ll do a giveaway of some miniatures…】 I looked at his smarmy, self-satisfied post and roared, sweeping everything off my workbench in a blind rage. “HOW? HOW IS THIS HAPPENING? WHY!” The raw, primal scream tore from my throat. Matt rushed in, saw the spider bot on my screen, and understood everything. “Could it be the organizers?” he stammered. “Are they feeding him your data?” It was the only logical explanation he could find for two identical, last-minute designs. I stood frozen in the center of the room, a dark, suffocating aura clinging to me. We had less than two hours until the final submission deadline. There was no time to build another new robot. “I’m calling them. Right now,” I snarled, pulling out my phone. As I did, I saw a text message notification. Seraphina had used someone else’s phone after finding she was blocked. 【Leo, I am in love with you. My love for you is like your shadow.】 【Where you are, I am. When you are gone, I cease to exist.】 The words flashed in my mind, sparking something, a fleeting connection I couldn’t quite grasp. I shook it off and dialed the organizers, my voice tight with fury as I laid out my accusation. 4 The official on the other end was cold and dismissive. “Mr. Vance, this championship is sponsored by the National Science Institute and overseen by two of its most distinguished fellows.” “It involves universities from across the country. We would never compromise our integrity for a single student. Besides…” His voice took on a mocking edge. “Your university isn’t exactly an Ivy League powerhouse with the pull to bribe a panel of national experts.” “Instead of making baseless accusations, maybe you should focus on improving your own skills.” He hung up. They wouldn’t take any more of my calls. “Leo! It’s getting worse online,” Matt said, his face ashen as he handed me his phone. The screen was filled with hate. 【So shameless. A blatant, last-minute copy. Get out of the competition!】 【Someone on Greg’s team must have been bribed. How else could this leech copy the newest design so fast?】 Greg himself had posted a reply, oozing false magnanimity. “It seems great minds think alike. Perhaps Leo and I just had a similar flash of inspiration. It’s no problem. Leo, you can have the design. I’ll compete with something else.” Beneath his comment, his fans praised his generosity. 【A true class act! So gracious, even to a thief!】 【LMAO, even if he’s given the stolen design, can he even operate it?】 【This is disgusting. Someone should report this parasite before he gets any more ambitious.】 I stared at the words, feeling the blood freeze in my veins. Why? Why was this happening? Was I doomed to repeat the past? To just give up? No. I refuse. There has to be something I’m missing. In the grip of that extreme, helpless rage, my mind suddenly became preternaturally clear. Memories of Greg flashed through my mind like a chaotic film reel. Before I met him, people called me a genius. But ever since he appeared, my light had been dimmed by his brighter star. He was always one step ahead, as if he could pluck my very thoughts from the air. A spark ignited in the darkness of my mind. “Matt,” I asked, my voice eerily calm. “Do you believe it’s possible for two people to have the exact same brainwaves?” He looked at me, bewildered. “What? No way. Not even identical twins are that in-sync.” “Okay,” I pressed on. “A robot you know inside and out. If you had all the parts, what’s the absolute fastest you could assemble a new one from scratch?” Matt considered it seriously. “Leo, I’m not on your level, but I’m no slouch either. With all the components ready, assembly and full diagnostics… minimum, half a day. These are precision instruments, not LEGOs. You can’t just snap them together.” His words were like a key turning in a lock. My eyes widened, and a slow, strange smile spread across my face. It grew into a laugh, wild and unrestrained. “You’re right,” I said, the sound echoing in the silent lab. “To build a machine like this from the ground up takes at least half a day. So how could two of them appear within a minute of each other?” “It’s not scientifically possible!” I stared at the two robots before me, my eyes gleaming with a terrifying, feverish light. I dragged the spider bot over to the industrial gravity press in the corner of the lab. My hand hovered over the activation button. “I’ve found it,” I whispered, a manic grin stretching across my face. “Your fatal flaw.”

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My boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart, Hannah, used my credit card to fund scholarships, building herself a reputation as a beautiful, kind-hearted heiress. So when the class fundraiser money went missing and turned up in my locker, my boyfriend, Max, looked at me with a heartbroken expression and said, “Vivian, just confess. I’ll wait for you.” I tried to explain, but no one believed me. The entire class pointed their fingers at me. I was sent to prison, framed for a crime I didn’t commit. On their way to present evidence that would clear my name, my parents died in a car crash. With me out of the way, Max seized control of my family’s company and announced his marriage to Hannah. I died in that prison cell, consumed by despair. When I open my eyes, I’m back on the day Hannah pays for the scholarships. … “The university is organizing a fundraiser for students on financial aid! Is anyone interested in donating?” The familiar words sent a jolt through my entire body. I stared at the professor on the podium, talking about the benefits of the program—extra credit, honors, a leg up on grad school applications—and I knew. I was back. The next second, Hannah shot to her feet. “Professor, I’ll donate fifty thousand dollars,” she announced, “to go towards living stipends for the scholarship students.” A collective gasp went through the lecture hall. “Fifty thousand? Hannah, are you serious?” Hannah lifted her chin, deliberately showing off the designer necklace gracing her neck. “It’s only fifty grand. Do I look like I’m joking?” The room erupted in applause. “Hannah, you’re literally a princess! So generous and kind,” gushed Laura, my roommate and Hannah’s biggest sycophant. “You’re always so down-to-earth, but when it really matters, you step up. Not like some people, who just parade around with their Chanel bags trying to show off.” She shot a pointed glare at the backpack sitting behind me. I only liked the bag because it was spacious. My family’s housekeeper used the same one for groceries. Compared to the exclusive, custom-made pieces in my closet, this one was laughably plain. In my last life, I had been the anonymous donor who had sponsored Hannah through a private fund my father set up. I’d even given her a supplementary card linked to my account. At first, the charges were small—a few hundred here, a few thousand there. I didn’t think much of it. So when she announced she was donating $50,000, I was a little annoyed, but I didn’t say anything. After all, my family donated millions to charity every year. Because of that one act, Hannah became the campus’s philanthropic angel, while I was branded a vain, materialistic snob. Then, the class fundraiser money vanished. It was Hannah who led a search party to my locker, where they “found” it. And it was Max who stood before everyone and sealed my fate. “Vivian, go to the police. I’ll wait for you.” I was ostracized, expelled, and thrown in jail. The university gave my guaranteed spot in the graduate program to Hannah. When my parents died trying to save me, I just… gave up. After my death, I watched as Max used illegal means to take over my family’s corporation and proposed to Hannah with a fleet of nine hundred helicopters. They became the internet’s most adored power couple, their happiness built on the blood of my family. Rage, hot and sharp, coiled in my gut, and I clenched my fists until my knuckles were white. Basking in the praise, Hannah gave a modest wave. “Oh, it’s not that big of a deal. I just want to do my part to help others.” Then, her eyes landed on my bag, her gaze loaded with meaning. “Vivian, that bag looks… familiar. I know it’s normal for women to want nice things, but please, don’t let your vanity ruin your life.” I ignored her and looked directly at the professor. “Professor, I’ll also donate fifty thousand dollars.” He glanced at me, his eyes filled with disbelief. “Are you sure, Vivian? Once your name is down, the pledge is binding. If you can’t follow through, you’ll lose all academic honors, your club positions, and your grad school recommendation. You need to think this through. Don’t make a reckless decision you’ll regret.” Hannah grabbed my arm, her face a mask of frantic concern. “Vivian, if you’re only doing this to compete with me, then I won’t donate! I can’t bear to watch you destroy your future because of me. I’d never forgive myself.” Hearing this, the scholarship students in the class panicked and turned on me. “Vivian, you are so unbelievably selfish! Are you really going to take away our funding just to satisfy your own ego?” “Do you have any idea how hard we’ve worked to get here? We skip meals just to save money! This donation was our one chance at a normal life, and you’re going to ruin it with your stupid bluff? You’re a monster!” “Keep your vanity to yourself! Why do you have to drag us down with you? People like you are a disgrace to this university! Get out!” One of the more hot-headed students lunged at me, grabbing my arm and yanking me out of my seat. I stumbled and fell hard on the floor. As more students started to surge forward, the professor finally intervened, shouting threats of expulsion to get the situation under control. He turned to me, his expression laced with disappointment. “Vivian, charity is a wonderful thing, but you must act within your means. For your own good, it’s best you sit this one out.” My jaw tightened. “Professor,” I said, my voice cold, “I don’t believe you have the right to make that decision for me.” Hannah immediately jumped in. “Professor, please don’t be hard on Vivian. It’s fine, I just won’t participate.” Her words were perfectly crafted to sound as if I were bullying her into withdrawing her offer. I was speechless. The students who had just been restrained exploded again. “Just get out of here, Vivian! Stop putting on a show! You think you have that kind of money?” “Yeah, we don’t want your donation anyway! We don’t need your pity money!” “Pah! I wouldn’t take a cent from you! We’d rather starve!” “Professor, we all formally request that Vivian be barred from donating!” The professor’s gaze was hard as steel. “Vivian, you need to respect the wishes of your peers. Don’t be so selfish.” I let out a bitter laugh and swept my eyes over the crowd. “Fine. I won’t donate. But remember—you’re the ones who told me not to.” The scholarship students immediately turned to Hannah, their faces alight with hope. “Hannah, Vivian has backed down. No one is pressuring you now. Is your offer of fifty thousand still on the table?” Hannah shot me a triumphant, challenging look. “Of course it is.” The professor moved to her side, his voice gentle. “Hannah, if you’re certain, just sign this pledge form. The funds need to be transferred to the university’s account within three days.” Hannah picked up the pen and, without a moment’s hesitation, signed her name with a flourish. After class, I was heading back to my dorm when I saw Max and Hannah standing near the entrance. He was laughing, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. The moment he saw me, his face went cold. “Vivian, I heard you made a scene in class today, trying to one-up someone by pledging fifty grand. When did you become so desperate for attention?” Seeing my expression darken, he softened his tone. “Look, I’m just saying this for your own good. My family is comfortable, but fifty thousand dollars is a lot of money. Were you planning on draining your parents’ savings account just to satisfy your ego? You should be grateful Hannah was there to stop you before you made a huge mistake. You need to thank her properly. She saw a necklace she really likes… it’s only about three grand. You should get it for her.” I stared at him, then let out a disbelieving laugh. “Max, if you don’t have a mirror, I suggest you find a puddle. You want me to spend my money on a gift for your little childhood friend? Your ego is bigger than your brain.” Max froze, clearly stunned. The old Vivian would have done anything to please him. Three grand was nothing if it kept him happy. Not anymore. I’d rather give my money to a homeless person on the street than spare him another dime. His face turned thunderous. “Vivian, do you have any idea what you’re saying?” I widened my eyes, feigning innocence. “Oh, was I not speaking English? Do you need a translator?” His face flushed with rage. Hannah stepped forward, her voice trembling with manufactured hurt. “Vivian, I know you don’t like me. I’ll stay away from you and Max from now on. Please don’t be angry with him because of me.” Max’s glare was icy. “Stop being so jealous, Vivian. I’ve told you, Hannah is like a sister to me. You spend thousands on a single bag. What’s the big deal about buying her one piece of jewelry? She’s going to be your sister-in-law one day.” I stared at Hannah for a long moment. “Is her mouth lined with gold? A few words from her are worth three thousand dollars? Is she worth it?” Hannah’s eyes immediately filled with tears. Max’s face contorted with fury. “That’s it, Vivian, you’ve gone too far! Hannah saved you fifty thousand dollars! Buying her a thank-you gift is the least you can do! If you won’t do it, then we’re through!” A genuine smile spread across my face. “Great! We’re done. See you never.” I turned and sprinted back to my dorm, faintly hearing him screaming behind me, yelling that I would regret this. The first thing I did when I got to my room was freeze the supplementary card. Let’s see where you get fifty thousand dollars from now, Hannah.

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When I arranged breeding for our family dog, my husband called me insane while my mother-in-law had a meltdown. In my past life, after Buddy—my loyal companion of ten years—died, Aiden and his mother bought a lookalike dog to console me. I thought it would fill the void. Instead, it urinated on our bed, destroyed the house, and once even wore my pajamas on my marital bed. When I demanded they remove it, they scoffed, “Why fight with a dog?” On our anniversary, they insisted on feeding it our leftovers to “avoid waste.” That night, I died of a sudden heart attack. Only then did I learn the truth: This dog carried the soul of Aiden’s wealthy ex, Amber, who’d recently died of the same condition. They’d brought it home to swap our fates. When I reopened my eyes, I was back to the day they first brought the dog home. … Aiden stood at the door, holding a small dog, his face beaming with a joy he couldn’t contain. “Jenna, come look! Doesn’t she look just like Buddy?” I looked over instinctively. A small puppy, dressed in a set of exquisite little clothes, was nestled in his arms. My body jolted as the familiar scene replayed in my mind. Seeing the excitement on Aiden’s face, I knew. I had been reborn. Seeing my silence, he prompted me again. “Honey, I put her in the bedroom for you. She’s here to keep you company, a replacement for Buddy. You have to treat her well, okay?” His words snapped me back to reality. I turned and saw the dog looking at me with an unnervingly human-like smile. My heart hammered in my chest. The horrific images of my last death flashed before my eyes. Without thinking, I refused. “No! I don’t want it!” Aiden was stunned. “Jenna, she looks so much like Buddy. Why wouldn’t you want her? Besides, I went to half a dozen breeders to find her for you. They don’t do returns.” Without waiting for another word, he carried the dog to my bed and set her down, stroking her head soothingly. Watching them together, I felt no warmth. Only a profound, chilling cold. In my last life, after Buddy died, Aiden had brought this same dog home. I suspected nothing and treated her as I had Buddy. I thought she would heal my broken heart, but I never realized she was no ordinary pet. The very first day, she urinated all over my bed. From then on, it only got worse. She would deliberately shatter my belongings or put on my pajamas and lie smugly on my marriage bed. In those moments, she didn’t seem like a dog. She seemed like a person. The strangeness of it all terrified me. I called Aiden and his mother to see, using it as an excuse to get rid of her. But they just told me I was overreacting, asking why I was so obsessed with a simple dog. This continued until our wedding anniversary. That day, they prepared a huge feast. When we couldn’t finish it, they suggested giving the leftovers to the dog. I remembered how she usually ate better than most people, so I readily agreed. I thought they were finally going to discipline her. Instead, that night, I died of a massive heart attack. That’s when I learned the truth. The dog wasn’t a replacement for Buddy at all. She was Aiden’s dead, rich ex-girlfriend. They brought her home to swap our lives. The memory of dying in her place, of watching her smugly take over my body and kiss my husband, filled me with a white-hot rage. I watched Aiden and his mother fussing over the dog, a strange smile playing on my lips. Since you’re here, you might as well stay. This time, it’s my turn to give you a gift. Just like last time, the dog pissed all over my bed on her first night. I stared at the yellow stain spreading across the sheets, a vein throbbing in my temple. I knew the soul inside that canine body was my husband’s first love. I knew she understood everything, that she was doing this deliberately to torment me. A fire ignited in my gut. I grabbed a feather duster, ready to strike. The dog erupted in a series of piercing shrieks, leaping and scrambling around the room, shattering my water glass and knocking over the wedding photo on my nightstand. Her cries brought Aiden and his mother running. The second the door opened, the dog scrambled into Aiden’s arms, peering at me with wide, terrified, and wounded eyes. Hearing her pathetic whimpers, Aiden’s heart melted. He shot me a look of pure exasperation. “Jenna, what is your problem? Why are you picking on a puppy?” he grumbled. “She’s just a baby, she doesn’t know any better. Look how you’ve scared her!” The scene was a perfect echo of my past life. Seeing that damned dog wagging its tail, taunting me, I trembled with fury, my voice shaking. “My problem? Are you blind? Can’t you see she’s soaked my entire bed? It reeks of piss! How am I supposed to sleep in that?” I shot back. “The second I picked up the duster, she started screaming and tearing the place apart. I never even touched her! And you say I scared her? Have you lost your mind?” “That’s it. I can’t have this dog in my house for one more day. Get rid of it, now! Or we’re getting a divorce!” A divorce would be for the best, but I knew they would never let me go that easily. They were determined to use me. Even if I managed to escape this house, they would find another way to kill me. Aiden just frowned, looking at me as if I were an irrational, shrewish wife. “Jenna, you’re losing it,” he spat. “You’re completely obsessed with this dog. You’ve gone mad.” He carefully cradled the dog and turned to leave, tossing one last sentence over his shoulder. “We’ll sleep in separate rooms for a while. You need to calm down.” His heartless words extinguished the last spark of hope I might have had for him. I slammed the door shut and, with a cold smile, dialed the number for a dog training facility. After our fight, Aiden and the dog were inseparable. When he went to work, he’d leave her with his mother, making sure I couldn’t get rid of her. Protected by the two of them, the dog found new ways to provoke me every day. She’d dart into my room the second I opened the door to shit on my bed. She’d smash my things and hide shards of glass in my shoes. The worst was when she burst in while I was on the toilet and sprayed a full stream of urine right in my face. Soaked in the foul-smelling liquid, I watched as Aiden and his mother praised the dog for how high and far she could aim. I was shaking with rage. But I told myself to endure it. The time wasn’t right. I couldn’t show my hand yet. I swallowed my disgust and waited, biding my time until our wedding anniversary. Just like in my last life, my mother-in-law was up early, her voice cheerful. “Today is your anniversary! You’ve always had such quiet celebrations, but this year is different. This year, you two need to celebrate properly…” Aiden chimed in. “She’s right. This year is different. We have to have a huge feast to celebrate.” Hearing the exact same words from my past life, I sneered inwardly. Back then, when I’d asked what was so different, they’d just mumbled something about it being our fifth anniversary, a special milestone. Now I understood. The “difference” was that they were preparing to welcome their rich ex-girlfriend into my body, and preparing to kill me. Suppressing the turmoil in my heart, I forced a smile. “Okay. Let’s celebrate.” With that, Aiden and his mother went out to buy groceries. Before they left, he turned to me, smiling. “Honey, it’s our special day. When Mom and I get back, we’re going to have a real celebration.” He even pulled me into a hug. I feigned shyness, burying my face in his chest to hide the icy glare in my eyes. They were gone for four or five hours. I wondered what kind of groceries took so long to buy, but I knew it was nothing good. When they returned, my mother-in-law locked herself in the kitchen, and Aiden went in to help her. They shut the door, and I could only guess what they were concocting in there. When the food was finally ready, my mother-in-law gestured to the overflowing table. “Jenna, dear, it’s your anniversary with Aiden. Mom made all your favorites. You have to eat a lot.” Aiden added, “That’s right, honey. We’ve been fighting so much lately, our relationship has suffered. I’ve been thinking, a husband should be more patient. Eat up, have some wine. Consider it my apology.” I stared at the dazzling array of dishes, remembering what had happened after I ate them last time. Back then, they’d coaxed me into eating until I was fit to burst. When I tried to get up to use the restroom, my head was spinning, my mind foggy. I knew the food was tainted. But with both of them watching me, I slowly picked up my chopsticks and began to eat. Aiden’s expression visibly brightened. My mother-in-law’s eyes gleamed as she clenched her fists. Fearing I wouldn’t eat enough, they kept urging me on. “Eat more, Jenna. You’re too thin, you need to eat more…” “Why aren’t you two eating?” I asked, my mouth full. They exchanged a fake, benevolent smile. “You eat first, Jenna. We’ll eat after you’re done.” They watched me, practically counting the seconds. Once I was visibly stuffed, they decided it was enough. They each took a symbolic bite or two of food before my mother-in-law stood up. “I think I made a little too much. It’ll be a shame to waste it.” “Why don’t we call our little darling over and let her finish it for us?” Aiden nodded immediately. “Right. Waste not, want not. I’ll go get her now!” He stood and left. His mother remained standing, craning her neck expectantly. But no matter where Aiden looked, he couldn’t find the dog. Panicked, he and his mother searched the entire house, but there was no sign of her on the second floor. They were frantic, sweat beading on their foreheads as they rushed back to me. “Jenna! Where is our little darling? Did you get rid of her behind our backs?” Seeing their panicked faces, I couldn’t help but laugh. A thrill of vengeance shot through me. I stood up slowly and pointed towards a room on the first floor. “You two love her so much, how could I possibly throw her out?” Before Aiden could look relieved, I continued. “But I’ve noticed her climbing into my bed a lot lately. I figured she must be in heat. She’s our little treasure, after all. We can’t let her suffer.” “So, I found her a dozen studs to mate with. Big, black ones. I’m sure they’ll get the job done.” At my words, the color drained from Aiden’s face. My mother-in-law swayed and collapsed to the floor in a boneless heap. Watching their faces turn a pasty white, I smiled and delivered the final blow. “So don’t worry about calling her for dinner. She’s going to be busy for a while. To make sure the mating was successful, I gave her a little something to… heighten her excitement. I imagine she’s having a great time right now.” It took them a long time to process my words. When they finally did, their bodies began to tremble as if they’d been plunged into a nightmare. Aiden raised his hand to slap me, but his mother scrambled up and pulled him towards the stairs. “Forget that bitch, Jenna!” she rasped in a voice I wasn’t supposed to hear. “Go save Amber!” Aiden snapped out of it. He shot me a venomous glare and scrambled downstairs. I followed at a leisurely pace. I watched them run screaming from room to room on the first floor, tearing each one apart in their search. But after checking every room, there was still no sign of the dog.

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On the day of my kidney transplant, my husband’s old flame, Zoe, volunteered to be my surgeon. After I refused, again and again, my husband, Phoenix, still let her use me for practice on the operating table. When an artery ruptured mid-surgery, Zoe panicked, completely out of her depth. The hospital demanded Phoenix take over, but he flatly refused. “Don’t put so much pressure on Zoe,” he said, his voice cold. “She’s not going to die. And if she does, I’ll sign a waiver. The hospital won’t be liable.” After the surgery, I suffered from severe complications and organ rejection. The entire hospital was put on high alert for an emergency rescue. But Phoenix was out with Zoe at a celebratory dinner, ignoring all our calls. Lying in the observation ward, my phone buzzed with a text from him. “I’m at home helping Zoe with her dissertation. Don’t come back when you wake up. You’ll distract us.” I had waited so long for a donor kidney, but just before I was wheeled into the OR, everything went wrong. My case was a perfect match for Zoe’s dissertation topic. Using this as an excuse, my husband, Phoenix, refused to perform the surgery himself. He wanted to hand me over to his protégé, Zoe, as a practice run. “Zoe will be the lead surgeon in name only. I’ll be right there to make sure everything goes perfectly. What are you so afraid of?” Phoenix snapped when he saw me hesitate to sign the consent form. He ignored my weakened state, his fingers digging into my jaw. I heard the sickening grate of bone. “I’m afraid of dying!” I choked out. “You know better than anyone how complex my case is. Zoe just graduated. How could she possibly handle this?” Zoe, who had been lingering by the door, heard my words and fled the room in tears. Phoenix pointed a trembling finger at me. “Then you can just lie there and die. Ungrateful bitch, I don’t even know what to say to you.” He chased after her, leaving me alone and helpless in the sterile white room, desperately waiting for him to come back and do his job. “Clara, don’t you worry,” a kind nurse whispered, trying to console me. “If he won’t do it, we can always… call him back. He’s the best there is.” I knew who she meant. The man they were talking about was Phoenix’s sworn rival. He would never operate on Phoenix’s wife. The surgery was scheduled in an hour. Phoenix was still nowhere to be found. My palms slicked with nervous sweat. I had waited so long for this kidney. Was it all going to be for nothing? With thirty minutes to spare, Phoenix finally reappeared, his neck littered with fresh hickeys. He signed the liability waiver with a flourish. This time, he promised, he would be the one in charge. I was too consumed with the fear of dying to care about the marks on his skin. I just nodded, tears streaming down my face. As they pushed my gurney through the double doors of the operating room, I watched them swing shut behind me. And then I saw her. Zoe, dressed in surgical scrubs, standing right in front of me. My eyes widened in horror. But the anesthesiologist was already administering the dose. Just before the world went dark, I saw Phoenix wrap Zoe in a gentle embrace. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “Just do what you need to do. Don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” A chill, colder than any I’d ever known, washed over me. Zoe stepped up to my gurney, a faint, triumphant smile on her lips. “Don’t be scared, Clara. I’ve only scrubbed in three times, but I’ll do my best.” Phoenix watched her, his face a mask of pure admiration. And then, I surrendered to the suffocating darkness. An hour later—or maybe a lifetime—I was jolted awake by Phoenix’s rough voice. A harsh beam of light stabbed at my eyes as he checked my pupils for dilation. From the periphery, I heard the frantic, disjointed voices of a few residents. “Dr. Evans, please, you have to take over! The fellow almost nicked the patient’s artery. If this goes on, something terrible is going to happen!” “Yeah, Dr. Evans, you should be the one operating. This is your wife, after all. If anything happens to her… you’d be devastated.” My husband listened to their desperate pleas, then glanced at the woman behind him, whose hand was trembling so badly she could barely hold the scalpel. His response shattered my world. “I have faith in Zoe,” he said calmly. “Besides, if this woman dies, I, as her husband, will sign a full liability waiver. None of you need to worry. The hospital won’t be on the hook for it.” Why? Why was this the first thing I heard upon waking? I felt the blood freeze in my veins. The faces around me, once familiar, were now the faces of strangers. My consciousness drifted in and out. I could hear Phoenix’s voice, a distant murmur guiding Zoe, but the words were blurred, like a half-remembered nightmare. The next time I woke, I was staring at a stark white ceiling. The room was empty. It wasn’t until the monitor beside my bed began to scream its shrill warnings that people rushed in. “What’s going on? Why are all her vitals crashing after the surgery?” “Her O2 sats are dropping like a stone! What the hell happened? Where’s her attending physician?” The nurses exchanged nervous glances. Finally, one spoke up. “Dr. Evans took Dr. Monroe to celebrate after the surgery. He took a leave of absence, said he’d be back in two days.” “His patient just got out of a major operation! She’s in critical observation! How could he take leave? Who approved this?” the head nurse thundered. A junior nurse stammered, “Dr. Evans approved Dr. Monroe’s leave himself… and as for his own, he said he hadn’t had a vacation in a long time. The administration just… couldn’t say no.” Just then, a resident shouted. “Severe organ rejection! She’s covered in a rash, her airway is swelling… Code Blue! We need to resuscitate, now, or we’re going to lose her!” As they wheeled me away, my mind was terrifyingly clear, as if my body knew it was shutting down. I heard them announce the “Code Blue” over the hospital-wide PA system, a call to arms for every available doctor and nurse to converge on my operating room. I heard their frantic discussions, heard the anesthesiologist lean down and whisper gently, “Don’t you worry, Clara. We’re going to give it everything we’ve got. You just take a nice long nap, and everything will be okay when you wake up.” I nodded. But I’d been a medical student. I knew exactly what a Code Blue meant. “Still no contact with Dr. Evans?” A roar echoed through the haze. It was the hospital’s chief of staff, his voice tight with fury. “In a crisis like this, the two surgeons responsible have just… vanished?” “Get them on the phone now! How can they be out enjoying themselves while their patient is circling the drain?” That’s when a young intern held up his phone, his voice barely a whisper. “It looks like… they went on a trip to the coast. They posted on Instagram, but… they’re not answering the hospital’s calls.” In the final minutes before the anesthesia took me completely, I heard Phoenix’s voice on a speakerphone. He sounded annoyed. “Impossible. I supervised the surgery myself. There’s no way there could be such a severe complication. It’s probably her own body, a violent rejection. It has nothing to do with Zoe’s skill.” “If you can’t save her, don’t waste any more medical resources.” “Just… let her go.” His final words were followed by Zoe’s anxious murmur, but before I could make out what she was saying, the darkness swallowed me whole. The battle between the hospital and the grim reaper lasted for ten grueling hours. In the end, they pulled me back from the brink and I was transferred to the ICU. I spent two weeks teetering on the edge before my condition finally stabilized. As I was moved to a regular ward, my phone, silent for so long, lit up with its first message from Phoenix. “I’m at home helping Zoe with her dissertation. Don’t come back when you wake up. You’ll distract us.” His social media had been wiped clean, but his profile picture was a new one: a shot of him and Zoe on vacation, taken while I was fighting for my life. They were locked in a sweet embrace. You couldn’t see Zoe’s face, but Phoenix… Phoenix looked happier than I’d ever seen him. I pulled up the feed from the security cameras at home. There they were. Zoe, curled up against Phoenix on our couch, reading aloud from the love letters I’d written him years ago. She finished one and let out a derisive laugh. “Clara was so cheesy back then! This is so cringey, how did you even stand it?” she mocked. “And her handwriting is awful.” Phoenix’s reply was a cold, flat blade. “I keep them around for a laugh.” Zoe’s laughter grew louder. She then found the metal box where I kept all the mementos from our long-distance relationship—every train ticket stub from my visits, every handwritten note. She pulled them out, one by one, and began to tear them into pieces. With every rip, she’d look up at Phoenix and smile, a bright, cruel grin. She even handed him a photo to tear himself. He didn’t hesitate. Together, they shredded ten years of my life, one piece at a time, driving a fresh knife into my heart with every tear. The last item was a cheap photo of us, taken with money from our part-time jobs right after college graduation. In it, his gaze was so earnest, as if I were the only person in his world. At least, that’s what I believed back then. It was a grainy, poorly lit photo, but I could never bring myself to throw it away. Zoe ripped it to shreds, then ground my half of the picture under her heel. “I don’t know why Clara would keep such an ugly photo of herself. She looks horrible here!” she declared, then pulled out her phone, switched to the front-facing camera, and snapped a selfie with Phoenix. “See? Even a random shot of me looks better than her prized photo.” Phoenix looked at the screen, a fond, indulgent smile spreading across his face. “That’s because you’re beautiful.” And then they were kissing, a tangle of limbs and shameless passion, right next to our wedding portrait, which they completely ignored. As I watched, a cool, crisp voice cut through the silence of my hospital room. “Still obsessed with your husband? Staring at security footage of him from your hospital bed?” That sharp, sarcastic tone could only belong to one person. I looked up and met his eyes. Leo. He held a stethoscope, and after a brief examination, he announced, “Another two weeks or so, and you should be good to go home.” I stared at him, my mind reeling. He was supposed to be in a fellowship program across the country… What was he doing here? “You… you… you…” I stammered. He rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t aware that kidney transplant complications included a stutter. A new research topic for me, I suppose. After all, I’m the one who flew back to perform your surgery.” “What?!” “What, what? Of course, the ridiculously generous offer the hospital director made didn’t hurt. Don’t get a big head about it.” With that, he packed up his things, gave a haughty tilt of his head, and strode out. Just then, my phone pinged. A large wire transfer had just hit my account. The amount: $5,000. On the monitor, Zoe saw the notification on Phoenix’s phone and squealed, smothering him with kisses. They were so wrapped up in each other, it was as if I were already dead. A moment later, another transfer came through. Another $5,000. Over ten thousand dollars. Had Phoenix forgotten our prenuptial agreement? It clearly stated that all our assets, even after marriage, remained individual property. The card he was using was mine. I’d given it to him so he could take care of himself while he was busy with his research, since my job at the pharmaceutical company paid far more than his. I never said he could use it to woo other women. And this house… what did it have to do with you, Phoenix Evans? What gave you the right to bring another woman to live in it? I turned off the monitor and made a call. “Hello, 911? I’d like to report a crime. Someone is using my credit cards without permission and has broken into my home.” It didn’t take long. Phoenix, who had been too busy for the hospital, too in need of a “rest,” suddenly had all the time in the world. He didn’t even bother to put on his respectable, doctorly facade. He stormed into my room wearing slippers and pajamas. “What the hell is your problem?” His finger jabbed forcefully at my forehead. “I sent you a message! I told you Zoe was staying with us to work on her dissertation. Why did you call the cops?” I slapped his hand away. The look of feigned concern on his face was almost comical. When I was on my deathbed, he had the time to go on a romantic getaway with Zoe, hiking and watching sunsets. He didn’t show an ounce of concern for me, even blocking me from seeing his posts. But the moment Zoe was taken in for questioning, he forgot all sense of decorum and rushed to the hospital to confront me. I let out a bitter laugh. “I’m surprised they didn’t take you with her.” That only enraged him further. “You’ve gone too far, Clara! What did Zoe and I ever do to you? Why are you so hell-bent on sending us to prison? You’re just that vicious, aren’t you?” His face was a mask of contempt, his expression so hateful it burned itself into my memory. “The surgery is over, and the hospital saved you, didn’t they? So what are you being so dramatic about? Zoe has been working on this dissertation for ages, and she just needed your case data. Couldn’t you just help her out? Instead, you call the police. Do you have any idea what a criminal record would do to her career?” Suddenly, it all made sense to him. He was worried about Zoe’s reputation, her future. But what about that time she stole the topic for my dissertation? Why was his first instinct back then to tell me to just let it go? Just a case file? There were dozens of kidney transplant cases at the hospital every day. They chose me for a reason. Because I was Phoenix’s wife. Because I had no parents. Because if I died, Phoenix could decide not to press charges. Bullying an orphan—that was their ultimate weapon.

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1 At my best friend’s birthday party, I got wasted and crashed next to a gorgeous stranger. Platonically. My so-called best friend, instead of looking out for me, snapped a perfectly angled photo and posted it to his Instagram story. The caption: “That’s my boy Leo, ‘scoring’ wherever he goes! ” The next morning, I was trending for all the wrong reasons. During a media scrum, my two childhood friends, Bella and Zoe, who had always sworn they’d trust me unconditionally, didn’t just fail to defend me—they threw me under the bus. “Leo’s always been a player, ever since we were kids. He loves the attention from women. What can we do?” “I guess we’re just not as exciting as the girls he finds on the outside. But thank God we have Finn now!” I let out a cold laugh. After deciding to quit the industry, I cornered the beautiful stranger from the party outside her hotel. “Hey. About last night. Aren’t you going to take responsibility?” Her eyes, a stunning shade of amethyst, widened slightly. “How, exactly?” “Marry me.” … When Bella and Zoe returned to our shared condo, I was staring blankly at the freshly printed marriage certificate in my hand. I was so out of it, I didn’t even notice them walk up. “A marriage certificate? Whose?” Bella snatched it from my grasp, flipped it open, and let out a derisive snort. “Leo, seriously? Your career is in the toilet, so you get a fake marriage license to shut people up? Pathetic.” Zoe’s smile was more restrained, but her words were just as sharp. “A fake like this won’t fool anyone, Leo. When you’re exposed, it’ll only be more humiliating for you.” I frowned, taking the certificate back. A bitter laugh almost escaped me. These were the girls who had professed their undying devotion to me, who swore to trust me no matter what. As I stood to go to my room, my eyes met those of the person standing behind them. Finn. I was surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?” Finn stepped forward, his face a mask of guilt, and before he even spoke, he slapped himself hard across the cheek. “Leo, I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. You know I’m new to the industry. I had no idea a stupid Instagram story would blow up like this.” He played the innocent victim to perfection. A damn shame he wasn’t an actor. I crossed my arms, watching him with a detached curiosity. “Then why don’t you clear things up?” He blinked, feigning confusion. “Clear what up?” “The truth, Finn. That nothing happened.” I couldn’t stand his act anymore, and my voice rose. He immediately flinched and ducked behind Bella, as if I were about to hit him. “I… I can’t lie.” “That’s enough.” Bella and Zoe instantly jumped to his defense. One grabbed my arm, pulling me back, while the other stood between me and Finn. “Leo, you’re the one who can’t keep it in your pants, and now you want Finn to lie for you?” Bella sneered. “You think everyone is like you, able to lie through their teeth without a shred of conscience?” “Honestly, you brought this all on yourself,” Zoe added, her voice laced with disappointment. “Finn is just too kind and naive. He felt so bad he insisted on coming to apologize in person, and this is how you treat him? By bullying him?” “Bullying him? Me, with no self-control?” I was so angry I could only laugh. Growing up, thanks to Bella and Zoe’s possessiveness, there hadn’t been a single other girl in my life. Even Finn, my one and only guy friend, had to get their stamp of approval before I was “allowed” to hang out with him. I’d actually been happy to finally have a brother. Now, it seemed my joy had been tragically misplaced. “I’m not arguing with you. You’re being completely irrational, as always,” Bella scoffed, taking Finn’s arm and leading him downstairs. Zoe sighed. “Leo, you need to get your act together.” She followed them down the stairs. Staring at the empty stairwell, it suddenly hit me. If I was going to sell this place, I’d have to fix it first. Years ago, I’d entered a TV talent show on a whim. I ended up getting a bit of a following and was signed by a label. After my first real paycheck, I bought this condo. Bella and Zoe, not wanting to be separated from me, used the excuse of “protecting” me to get money from their parents and buy the unit directly below mine. Then, against all building regulations, they had a spiral staircase installed, connecting our two homes. It meant they could come and go from my place as they pleased. I’ll admit, that convenience had its perks. There was a time I fell into a lake during a variety show shoot and came down with a raging fever that night. They’d come up with takeout, found me delirious, and rushed me to the hospital. But I didn’t need that kind of “care” anymore. 2 The next morning, I was jolted from a deep sleep by a frantic call from my assistant, Benny. “Leo, what the hell happened last night?” I was still half-asleep, mumbling, “Happened? With who?” “Dude, just check your socials. You’re trending again.” Trending? The fog in my brain vanished. I immediately pulled up my phone’s browser. My name was everywhere. #FinnApologizesInPerson,GetsVerballyAbusedByLeo #LeoCutsTiesWithChildhoodFriendsAndBestieAfterScandal #BellaAndZoeSpeakOutOnLeosBetrayal The comments were a cesspool of vitriol. 【What a scumbag. Can’t control his own dick and now he’s attacking people. I always thought Leo seemed like a decent guy, but he’s disgusting behind the scenes.】 【Unfollowed him yesterday. Honestly heartbroken. Can’t believe the artist I supported is this kind of trash.】 【A man with no self-respect is worthless. If I were his friend, I’d cut him off too. Who needs a friend like that?】 This was… interesting. Bella and Zoe had brought Finn over last night, and he’d left through their apartment. So how did this become about me attacking him, instead of a potential three-way scandal? It was obvious. Someone was buying bots and boosting these hashtags, using me as a stepping stone. I clicked on Finn’s social media profile. Sure enough, for a brand-new artist, his follower count had skyrocketed past 300,000 in less than two days and was still climbing. The comments were filled with people praising his “purity” and “kindness,” vowing to protect him. When I switched back to the call, Benny’s voice was hesitant. “Leo… Rex said they’re putting your new album on hold. He wants you to come into the office.” “Do you need me to get the driver to pick you up?” I stretched, sitting up in bed. “No need. I was planning on seeing Rex anyway.” If I remembered correctly, my contract was up in a month. Given the current PR nightmare, the label would never re-sign me. Perfect. I was tired of it all anyway. This was my chance to just walk away. As soon as I arrived at the agency, Benny rushed to meet me, his expression a mixture of pity and anxiety. I waved a hand, letting him know he didn’t need to say anything. When I entered my manager Rex’s office, Bella, Zoe, and Finn were already there. Rex, his face grim, tossed a contract onto the desk in front of me. “The variety shows you were booked for have all dropped you. No one wants to touch you right now. This opportunity… Bella fought to get it for you. Take a look. If it seems okay, sign it.” In the middle of this firestorm, some producer was brave enough to sign me? And Bella got me the gig? Since when did she have that kind of pull? Puzzled, I opened the contract. After a few glances, I flipped to the attached script. And I laughed. This wasn’t Bella fighting for me. This was a custom-made production designed for the four of us. The script had me deliberately antagonizing Finn on camera, turning our real-life drama into a primetime spectacle to maximize the buzz. They were going to squeeze every last drop of value out of me, letting Finn build his career on my ashes. My laughter clearly unnerved Bella. “What’s so funny?” she snapped. My smile vanished. “What are you so nervous about?” I retorted instinctively. “You…” Bella clenched her fists, about to step toward me, but Finn held her back. “Leo, if you don’t want to be on the same show as me, I’ll just pull out. You really need this chance right now. Don’t let your pride get in the way.” Before I could even respond, Bella and Zoe said in unison, “No.” “Finn, you’re a rookie,” Zoe said. “Every moment of screen time is precious for you.” Rex’s face was grim as he stared at me. “Leo, this is the company’s decision!” I nodded slowly, then asked the question that had been burning in my mind. “Last night’s trending topics… that was the company’s doing too, wasn’t it?” Rex’s lips thinned into a hard line. He didn’t answer. That was answer enough. A bitter wave of sorrow washed over me. I picked up the pen from Rex’s desk and signed my name on the contract with a flourish. Everyone in the room visibly relaxed. I stared Rex straight in the eye, handing him the contract. “For ten years of guidance and support,” I said, each word precise and cold, “our debt is paid. We’re even.” Without a second glance at their stunned faces, I grabbed the script and walked out. 3 “What artist gets hit with a scandal and then immediately signs on for a show? That’s just asking for more trouble. What is Rex thinking?” Benny muttered, frowning as we waited for the elevator. I just smiled, a sad, knowing smile. “Benny, I’ve been in this business for ten years.” Ten years. I hadn’t won any major awards, I wasn’t a superstar, and my voice was even starting to lose its edge. Every agency needs fresh blood. And Finn just ‘happened’ to create this massive stir at the perfect time. The company might have considered damage control at first. But once Bella and Zoe, my supposed “devoted sisters,” hammered the final nail in my coffin, any attempt to clear my name would have been met with skepticism from the fans. It was far more profitable to use my downfall to launch Finn. This is the entertainment industry. It’s a cruel place, devoid of loyalty. Benny fell silent, chewing on the pearls in his bubble tea. His eyes started to turn red. “But it’s not your fault, Leo. I’ve seen how careful you’ve been with your reputation these past ten years. It’s Bella and Zoe who are the ungrateful ones. Without you, they never would have even had a career, let alone become this beloved ‘devoted duo.’” A wave of gratitude washed over me. I pulled him into a quick hug. The two girls I grew up with were less loyal than the assistant I’d known for a decade. “Benny, I’m planning on leaving the business. So… use this time to figure out your next move, okay?” As I let him go, the trio walked up behind us. “Leaving the business?” Bella’s voice was sharp with suspicion. “Leo, who are you bad-mouthing now?” Her voice was drowned out by the ding of the arriving elevator. I pretended not to hear her, waved goodbye to Benny, and stepped inside. I saw a flash of annoyance on Bella’s face, but she was too proud to follow me after I’d given her the cold shoulder. It wasn’t until I was in my car that I saw a message from my not-yet-well-acquainted wife, Aurora. 【Sorry, I was busy and just saw the news. Do you need me to make a statement?】 I quickly typed back, 【No, it’s fine. Thanks!】 After a moment’s thought, I sent another. 【Could you book my flight to Aethelgard for a month from now? I have to film a show first.】 The reply was almost instantaneous. 【Of course.】 I cringed, feeling the awkwardness even through the screen. The truth was, when I’d cornered her at the hotel, it was a moment of pure impulse. I’d spouted all that nonsense without thinking. I never, ever expected her to actually agree—and then, as if afraid I’d back out, she dragged me straight to the courthouse to get the license. I figured she must think I was loaded with money. But then, as soon as we had the certificate, she handed me a black card linked to her private account. Holy hell. The balance in that account was more than I’d make from ten platinum albums. And that wasn’t all. She then mentioned her properties in the capital, Aethelgard, and said she’d take me to have the deeds transferred to my name. That’s when it hit me. I hadn’t just married some girl. I’d married a goddamn CEO. When she later mentioned wanting to have the wedding in Aethelgard, I naturally had no objections. My parents happened to live there too. That night, I was eating instant ramen and scrolling through my tablet, looking for a construction company. Zoe came up from downstairs, snatched the ramen cup out of my hands, and tossed it in the trash. “This is what you’re eating? Come downstairs. Finn made spicy hot pot. He sent me up to get you.” I looked at her, my heart filled with a profound sense of disappointment. I’ve had a sensitive stomach since I was a kid. They both knew that. For eighteen years, they never let me eat anything spicy or raw, let alone something as oily and fiery as hot pot. But now, because of Finn, they could so easily forget something they once cared about so deeply. “I don’t eat hot pot. Give me back my ramen.” Zoe’s lips tightened. For a long moment, she didn’t move. Finally, she crouched down, meeting my eyes at eye level, just like she used to when she was trying to coax me. “Leo, I know you’re still angry. But Finn is different from you. He’s a rookie. If we don’t speak up for him, your fans will tear him apart, and he’ll never get his big break.” “But you’re different. Even if you can’t make it in this industry anymore, you still have me and Bella. We’ll take care of you.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Hard pass. I don’t eat leftovers.” My dismissive attitude infuriated her. “Leo…” she snapped, her face hardening. I was done listening to her nonsense. “Can you please leave? I’m busy.” Zoe’s face grew darker and darker until she finally stormed out in a rage. She never once glanced at what I was doing on my computer.

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At my son’s one-month celebration, my sister Laura burst in, covered in blood. She collapsed to her knees before me, thrusting a DNA test into my hands as she slammed her head against the floor. “Luna, I promised I’d keep your secret, that I’d protect you and your lover,” she wailed. “But why did you try to kill me? Why did you kill Mom and Dad? Do I have to die for you to finally feel safe?” My husband, Joey, tore the DNA report to shreds. He demanded a divorce on the spot. Our son was sent to an orphanage, and I was sent to a private mental institution by Joey and my four older brothers for “rehabilitation.” For a year, I endured extreme treatments. I was a plaything for the wealthy sons of the elite, a canvas for their cruelty. My body was beaten black and blue, and I was forced to carry and then lose five children. They only let me out when Joey and my sister’s wedding was announced. By then, I just smiled vacantly, clutching a pillow to my chest, rocking it gently as if it were my baby. I walked out of the institution, still holding my pillow. My four brothers and Joey were waiting impatiently, leaning against a gleaming Maybach. The moment I emerged, a swarm of reporters descended, their cameras flashing like a volley of gunfire. The smallest-sized dress hung on my skeletal frame like a shroud. A single, gentle push from the crowd was enough to send me sprawling to the ground. They backed away, but their words closed in, sharp as knives. “Luna Sterling! You murdered your own parents and destroyed your sister’s chance to ever be a mother! Do you think playing the victim will win you any sympathy?” “If your sister wasn’t so forgiving, a cheating, venomous bitch like you would be on death row!” “You killed your own parents for a secret lover!” A piercing pain shot up my leg, mingling with the venom of their words, all of it flooding my heart. But I didn’t dare say a word in my defense. I just clutched my pillow tighter and bowed my head to the ground, slamming it against the pavement again and again. “I was wrong. I’m guilty. I’m a slut. I shouldn’t have killed Mom and Dad. I shouldn’t have hurt my sister…” After a year of torture, I no longer had the strength to fight back. Every denial, every plea of innocence, had only earned me more violent electrocutions, more brutal beatings. When I was finally a limp, broken thing on the floor, unable to make a sound, the rich boys would have their turn with me. They were all delinquents, sent to the institution not for treatment, but to hide from the consequences of their crimes. They loved watching a fresh flower be torn apart until it withered. The only difference between me and the other victims was that they were dead whores, and I was a living one. Because my four brothers and my ex-husband wouldn’t let me die. Their cold, merciless voices were a constant loop in the headphones they forced on me. “Luna, you worthless bitch, you deserve to die a thousand deaths. You killed our parents, you maimed our sister. You will atone.” My forehead hit the concrete. A warm liquid trickled down, blurring my vision with a crimson haze that finally, mercifully, blocked out the five figures I feared most. A polished leather shoe stopped my head from hitting the ground again. Joey used the toe of his shoe to lift my chin, his voice raining down on me from above. “Luna. You brought this on yourself.” The familiar sound sent a violent, uncontrollable tremor through my entire body. “I was wrong, I was really wrong, please don’t hit me, I’ll confess, I’ll be good, please, just let me go…” Joey’s eyes filled with a thick, syrupy disgust. He bent down, snatched the pillow from my arms, and used it to roughly wipe the blood from my forehead, forcing me to look at him. “A year, Luna. And your acting has improved dramatically. Sending you to that institution instead of prison was too lenient, I see.” His voice was laced with scorn. “Everyone knows that place is a safe house for spoiled brats. What new game are you playing now?” The emptiness in my arms sent a wave of panic through me. I crawled toward the blood-soaked pillow, my voice a broken whisper. “It’s okay, baby, don’t be scared… Mommy will protect you…” My four brothers closed in, shielding me from the flashing cameras. “Luna! Are you still obsessed with that bastard child? It seems you’re not too happy about the ‘rehabilitation’ we arranged for you. You ungrateful wretch!” My eldest brother, Ethan, kicked me square in the chest. A metallic tang filled my mouth, and I spat a spray of blood onto the pillow, where it mingled with the blood from my forehead. Ethan paused for a second, then sneered. “You deserve an Oscar for this performance, Luna. You even brought your own blood packet.” “It seems a year wasn’t punishment enough.” The crowd murmured. “I’m dying to know who this mystery lover is. To have the great Luna Sterling still so devoted to him after all this…” All eyes turned to Joey, the cuckolded husband. His face, already dark with disgust, turned black as thunder. I knew that look. It was the storm before the hurricane. Enraging any of them meant more pain. Instinct took over. I swallowed the blood in my mouth and continued my desperate, incoherent pleas. “I was wrong… I shouldn’t have seduced another man… I’m guilty, I deserve to die… Just don’t hit me, you can do whatever you want, just please, let me go…” I mechanically repeated the words, mechanically started to pull at my own clothes, a programmed response to their rage. I didn’t even know who this “other man” was supposed to be. I didn’t know why my parents had died, or why my son was suddenly a “bastard child.” I didn’t know what I had done to make the sister I had adored turn on me with such venom. Joey’s eyes blazed with fury. He stopped my hands as I tried to tear off my dress. “Luna, look what you’ve become in just one year. What a pathetic slut.” “What right do you have to ask us for mercy?” He pulled out a handkerchief, wiped the hand that had touched me, and a cruel smile twisted his lips. My brothers, snapping out of their shock at my bizarre behavior, spoke as one. “Since you still haven’t realized your mistakes, we will be the ones to judge and punish you.” Joey opened the trunk of the car and pulled out a set of items he had prepared in advance. He turned to the cameras, his voice cold. “When the livestream hits one million viewers, the trial will begin.” So this was their plan. They weren’t here to release me. They were here to begin the next phase of my punishment. The news that the powerful Sterling and Thorne families were joining forces to publicly punish me, the disgraced heiress, sent viewership skyrocketing. The comments flooded in, a torrent of demands for the show to begin. To satisfy their curiosity, Ethan spoke first. “Luna, since you can’t remember what you did wrong, allow me to refresh your memory.” As his lips moved, the image of my parents’ fiery car crash flashed through my mind. I had only learned the details after I was institutionalized. On their way to my son’s celebration, their car had somehow spun out of control, slamming into a guardrail. The fuel tank ruptured, and the car was instantly engulfed in flames. The fire had consumed the car, a pillar of black smoke and roaring heat. My parents were trapped inside. Ethan held up his phone and played a recording. It was the sound of my parents’ final, agonizing screams, captured by Laura. The screams pierced my eardrums, my heart. I shut my eyes, but I could see their faces, twisting in the flames, their hands beating desperately against the windows. I had been forced to listen to this recording thousands of times, but it still shattered me. The pain of their death was a wound that would never heal. And what made it unbearable was that everyone believed I was the one who had tampered with their car. The live chat was a waterfall of hate, every comment a dagger in my heart. “Murderer! How dare you still be alive?” “Your parents must have had the worst luck in the world to have a daughter like you.” “A vicious bitch like you should burn in hell!” “You kill your own parents and then play the victim? Disgusting!” I stared at the words, my heart twisting. I wanted to scream that I didn’t do it, but I knew no one would believe me. I was a pariah, a monster in their eyes. I curled into a ball on the ground, hugging the bloody pillow as if it were my only lifeline. Tears streamed silently down my face, mixing with the blood. “I’m sorry, Mom, Dad… I’m so sorry…” I whispered. “I don’t know why this happened…” Ethan’s voice cut through my grief, cold and merciless. “You think playing pathetic will save you, Luna? You killed our parents. You ruined your sister’s life. Did you really think you could escape justice?” I looked up at his merciless face, and my world dissolved into despair. The viewer count was still climbing. They were all hungry for the spectacle. They were all waiting to see me punished. I knew there was no escape. I wanted to die, but if I did, my son in that orphanage would truly be alone. He was just like me, a poor soul abandoned by his own family. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, my body trembling as I waited for the torture to begin. “Let’s start,” Joey announced coldly. My nightmare was only just beginning.

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Just as the serial killer was about to slip through our fingers, I, the city’s lead forensic psychologist, was in a psychiatric ward, playing chess with an old man. My phone buzzed. It was Lily, the deceptively sweet new consultant, her voice a desperate plea. “Dr. Reed, you’re the only one who can build a psychological profile fast enough to predict his escape route! We need you back at the precinct, now! Before it’s too late!” I hung up and sent her a photo of my recent diagnosis: Delusional Disorder. My reply was simple: “Sorry. Doctor’s orders. I’m not going anywhere.” In my last life, I’d practically lived at the crime scenes, working myself to the bone until I finally cracked the killer’s pattern and pinpointed his escape route. But when the tactical team swarmed the location, he was already gone. Miles away, another victim was found. “Some lead consultant,” they’d sneered. “A fraud in a fancy suit.” “If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the kitchen! Her incompetence just cost a woman her life!” My world had shattered. I tried to defend myself, to show them my notes, my meticulous chain of logic, but the pages I presented were a chaotic, nonsensical mess. It wasn’t my work. Then my husband, Mark, stood before the review board and revealed my “history of mental illness.” They committed me. The family of the last victim believed I was the one to blame. One of them snuck into the hospital and strangled the life out of me in my bed. Even as my vision faded to black, I couldn’t understand it. I wasn’t sick. My profile of the killer hadn’t been wrong. I knew it. After my death, Lily took my place. The media hailed her as a brilliant prodigy, a “Goddess of the Mind.” Not long after, she and my husband, Mark, found love “forged in the crucible of justice,” as the tabloids put it. They became the power couple of law enforcement. Now, I’ve opened my eyes again, and I’m back. Back on the very day it all began. “Dr. Reed, your latest paper just got published in that prestigious international journal! You owe us all drinks tonight.” Lily’s familiar voice chirped from behind me. My body went rigid as I turned to face her. It was only the second day of my new life, and the whiplash was still severe. Oblivious to my state, Lily leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I heard the precinct is handing us the ‘Rainy Day Ripper’ case. This is the big one, Evie.” She smiled. “If you crack this, it’ll be your 689th solved homicide. You’ll shatter the all-time record.” I drew a sharp breath, but the words caught in my throat. Seeing my pale face, Lily pressed a thermos into my hands. “You’re so lucky to have a husband like Mark,” she said, her eyes shining with what I now knew was counterfeit envy. I unscrewed the lid. The thick, cloying scent of herbs and greasy chicken fat—Mark’s special “restorative broth” he insisted I drink to keep my strength up—assaulted my nostrils. The smell was so viscerally familiar that a cold shudder ran down my spine. In my last life, after Mark had me committed, the nurses would hold me down, forcing handfuls of chalky white pills into my mouth. I would never forget the bitter taste that seemed to seep into my very soul. Now, as I raised the thermos, the salty, greasy broth hit my tongue, and beneath it, I tasted it again—that same haunting, chemical bitterness. The soup was drugged. My mind flashed back. On that fateful day, I’d been too consumed by the case to eat. It was Lily who had opened this very thermos, smiling, watching me drink every last drop. A primal revulsion took over. I lurched forward, vomiting the mouthful of soup onto the floor. “Evie!” Lily cried, aghast. “Mark worked so hard on that for you! How could you just spit it out?” After I’d heaved the last of it, I slowly raised my head, my eyes locking onto hers. I had trained her, mentored her, treated her like a little sister. I’d bought her birthday gifts, celebrated her small victories, given her every piece of myself I could share. And this was how she repaid me. A viper I had warmed at my own hearth. It’s always the ones you least suspect, the ones you let inside your walls, who can deliver the fatal blow. Lily was one. And Mark… Mark was the other. My own husband, under the guise of caring for me, had been slowly poisoning my mind. He’d laid the groundwork for my downfall, so that when the time was right, he could be the first to declare me insane, citing a non-existent “family history” of mental illness. I looked at the girl tugging at my sleeve, feigning concern, and my heart filled with a cold, desolate grief. I finally knew the source of my “madness” from my past life. But that still didn’t explain the other piece of the puzzle. How had my profile of the killer been so wrong? My intuition, honed over hundreds of cases, screamed at me that there was more to it. Something I still wasn’t seeing. “Mark made me promise to watch you finish it,” Lily pouted, her big, innocent eyes pleading with me. Just then, the office door creaked open, and Professor Albright, my old mentor, peeked his head in. “Ah, Lily, what’s all the commotion?” His gaze fell to the thermos on my desk, and a strange, knowing look flickered in his eyes. “Mark is such a devoted husband. Always making sure his brilliant wife is taken care of.” I picked up the thermos. Meeting both Lily’s and the professor’s expectant stares, I poured the broth into three separate mugs. “I’d feel terrible drinking this all by myself,” I said with a thin smile. “Since you’re both here, you should try some of Mark’s handiwork.” I offered the mugs to them. Their faces froze. A wave of panic washed over them, so palpable it was almost visible. I watched them, my gaze unwavering, dissecting every twitch, every flicker of fear. Their hands trembled as they took the mugs. They’d lift them towards their lips, then hesitate, lowering them again. Lily was ghost-white, unable to even look at the soup. The truth was as clear as day. I let out a sigh and downed the remaining broth in my own mug in one go. “It’s gotten cold anyway. Too greasy,” I announced, forcing a grimace. “Let’s not bother. I’ll have Mark make a fresh batch for you all another time.” They practically fled the office, their footsteps echoing down the hall as they scrambled to get away. Once I was sure they were gone, I ran to the restroom and forced myself to throw up, rinsing my mouth until the bitter taste was gone. Professor Albright. In my last life, I’d suspected everyone but him—the fair, the just, the man who had shaped my entire career. But his face just now told me everything. He knew. He was a part of it. But why? The question echoed in the hollows of my mind. As I stood there, lost in thought, a text from Mark lit up my phone. “The Rainy Day Ripper case is yours. You HAVE to solve it. This is my shot at the Deputy Director position. Don’t screw it up.” A chill, colder than any winter frost, settled deep in my bones. It was him. For a promotion, he had pushed me to take the case, only to throw me to the wolves when the operation failed, branding me a lunatic. I thought of our life together, from college sweethearts to this… this venomous betrayal. A lump formed in my throat, and I fought back the tears that threatened to fall. My protégée. My mentor. My husband. They all wanted the same thing: to see me ruined, disgraced, and utterly destroyed. But how had they orchestrated it all? I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The sharp sting of pain forced me to focus, to replay every single detail of my last life. No matter how many times I went over it, I couldn’t find the flaw in my logic. I spread my old notes out on the desk, the key data points from the case laid bare. I ran the simulations again and again. I was certain. My profile had been perfect. As I stared blankly at the papers, Lily scurried back into my office, a sealed evidence file in her hand. “Everyone was fighting for this one, Dr. Reed,” she said, her voice bright and cheerful. “I made sure to grab it for you.” She placed the file on my desk like a prize. My phone chimed again. Another text from Mark. “Eve, I already told my parents about the promotion. You have to land this case. For us.” Lily stood before me, her eyes wide with anticipation, waiting for me to accept. I couldn’t meet her gaze. I turned away. “Lily, I’m not feeling well. I need to rest. We can talk about this later.” A flicker of annoyance crossed her face, but she masked it quickly with a flurry of feigned concern before finally leaving. The moment she was gone, I was out the door. I hailed a cab and headed straight for the best psychiatric hospital in the city. On the way, I sent a text to a trusted friend—a retired detective—with the key profile points on the suspect. His reply came back almost instantly, followed by a series of photos. There he was: the man I had identified, a disheveled figure in a dark rain slicker, lurking near the crime scenes late at night. It was him. This was the man who had not only murdered a dozen young women but had also become the final nail in my coffin. But how did he know my plan? Who would go so far as to leak operational details to a serial killer, just to destroy me? My mind raced, a maelstrom of confusion and dawning horror. As I glanced in the car’s rearview mirror, an idea sparked, so shocking and so perfect that it took my breath away. Could that be it? I had the driver pull over. My fingers flew across the screen as I typed out my new theory, a detailed breakdown of the conspiracy, and sent it to my friend. His reply was two simple words: On it. Just to be safe, I made one more call—to a private investigator I’d used before. I gave him three targets to tail: Lily, Mark, and Professor Albright.

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