Category: English

The doctor told me I had three broken ribs and a ruptured spleen. I spent seven hazy days in the ICU, drifting in and out of consciousness. When I finally woke up, the room was a sterile vacuum. No flowers, no fruit baskets—not even a shadow of a person. The nurse mentioned it offhandedly while changing my IV. “Your mother came by to sign the surgical consent. She said she had a case she couldn’t walk away from.” I felt a ghost of a smirk pull at my cracked lips. I didn’t say a word. She was a powerhouse litigator, a shark in a designer suit. She’d spent my entire childhood choosing billable hours over her only daughter. I was used to it. It wasn’t until the ninth day that my father arrived from the neighboring county. His fingers were gaunt and trembling as he gripped my hand. His Adam’s apple bobbed for a long time before he managed to force the words out. “Casey, there’s something… about the case your mother took.” He took a jagged breath, his voice thin. “It’s the Prescott family.” Courtney Prescott. The girl who had looked me in the eye before kicking me down three flights of stairs. I stared up at the clear fluid dripping through the IV line. I felt the blood in my veins turn to ice. 01 My father’s hand wouldn’t stop shaking. He gripped me so hard his knuckles turned white, tighter than I was holding onto consciousness. “Dad,” I whispered. “Which Courtney Prescott? Tell me there’s another one.” I was still hunting for a loophole. One last scrap of hope. “It’s her, Casey.” He kept his head down, his voice muffled, like the words were being crushed out of his chest. “The daughter of the developer, Arthur Prescott. The girl from your school. Her father approached your mother’s firm. Your mother… she personally requested the file.” The room went silent for an eternity. The heart monitor was the only thing speaking, a steady beep-beep-beep that sounded like a countdown. I stared at the fluorescent light on the ceiling, so white it burned. One thought looped through my mind, over and over: She knows. She knows who did this to me. “Dad? Does she know I’m in the hospital?” “She knows.” “Does she know Courtney did it?” “She knows.” “And she took the case anyway?” My father didn’t answer. But silence is its own kind of confession. I closed my eyes. Suddenly, those three broken ribs flared in unison. It wasn’t the physical wound. It was something deeper, a jagged break in the center of my being. My father reached into a plastic bag and pulled out a thermal container. He unscrewed the lid. Homemade chicken soup. Steam billowed out. He was a clumsy man, a man of rough edges and ink-stained fingers. The carrots were chopped into uneven chunks, the broth wasn’t strained properly, and a few stray bits of fat floated on the surface. But it was hot. “Casey, honey. Try to drink some.” I took the cup. I swallowed a mouthful. It was too salty. I didn’t tell him. I just kept drinking. “Dad, how did you get here? How long was the bus ride?” “Not long. Two hours.” He lied. I could see the mud caked on his boots and the damp hem of his jeans. It was pouring outside, and he hadn’t even brought an umbrella. “Why are you only getting here now?” His eyes turned bloodshot in an instant. “Your mother told me not to come. She said she was handling it. She told me to stay out of the way.” He choked on a sob. “I called her for seven days straight. She didn’t pick up once. It wasn’t until your homeroom teacher, Mr. Henderson, tracked me down on social media that I found out you were in the ICU.” Seven days. I was fighting for my life for seven days. My mother stayed for eight minutes to sign a paper and left. My father called for seven days, and she ghosted him. “Dad, don’t cry.” I set the soup on the nightstand. “I want to see the damage.” He hesitated, then pulled back the thin hospital blanket. My left side was a topographical map of gauze and surgical tape. A long, angry incision ran across my abdomen, stitched together and crusting into a dark crimson scab. My right arm was a mosaic of deep purple bruises—boot prints. When I hit the stairs, my head had slammed against the edge of the concrete step. The nurse told me that two centimeters to the left, and I would have been brain dead. “What’s the bill up to?” I asked. He looked away. “Don’t worry about that.” “How much, Dad?” “Nineteen thousand so far. The follow-up surgeries and rehab… they’re estimating another fifteen.” “Who’s paying?” “Your mother. She wired twenty thousand to the hospital’s billing department.” I let out a hollow laugh. Twenty thousand dollars. My mother made more than that on a single retainer. “She paid the bill, so she thinks she’s square. That’s her logic, isn’t it?” He stayed silent. But I knew the answer. In my mother’s world, money was the universal solvent. It dissolved guilt, it dissolved responsibility, it dissolved truth. But money couldn’t knit my ribs back together. Money couldn’t catch me before I hit the floor. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. A nurse pushed the door open, followed by a doctor in a white coat. “Is the family of Casey Sullivan here? We need a signature for tomorrow’s scans.” My father stood up, but before he could speak, the sharp, rhythmic click-clack of high heels rang out from the corridor. Steady. Urgent. Perfectly timed. I knew that sound. It was the soundtrack of my childhood. My mother had arrived. 02 Margot Sullivan swept into the room, a boutique paper bag from a high-end private pharmacy dangling from her wrist. She was wearing charcoal power trousers and a cream cashmere coat. Her hair was pinned back in a flawless chignon, her signature pearl earrings catching the sterile light. When she saw my father, her face hardened for a fraction of a second. “What are you doing here, David?” “My daughter is in the hospital,” he spat, his fists clenching at his sides. “I have every right to be here.” “I told you I was handling it. You’re just complicating things.” “Handling it? By acting as the Prescotts’ attack dog?” The air in the room turned brittle. My mother’s gaze shifted to me. It wasn’t the look of a worried parent. It was the look of an adjuster assessing a claim. “Casey. How are you feeling?” She walked to the bed and set the bag on the nightstand. Inside were expensive, imported supplements. “The doctor says your vitals are stabilizing. You should be out of here in a week.” “Mom,” I said, my voice flat. “Did you really take the Prescott case?” She paused for a heartbeat, then continued arranging the bottles. “I’m the lead on the account, yes.” “How could you?” She sat on the edge of the bed, her tone shifting into her ‘client conference’ voice—calm, logical, unyielding. “Casey, listen to me. Legally speaking, a scuffle between teenagers rarely meets the threshold for criminal assault. The Prescotts are looking for a mediation. They’re prepared to cover all your medical expenses, plus a five-figure settlement.” “A settlement?” I stared at her. “Mom, she kicked me down three flights of stairs. I have a ruptured spleen. I almost died.” “I am aware,” she said, a hint of professional impatience creeping in. “Which is why I’ve negotiated such a favorable deal. Any other lawyer, and the Prescotts wouldn’t even be offering half of this.” My father couldn’t take it anymore. “Margot, listen to yourself! Your daughter was nearly killed, and you’re sitting here talking about a payout?” “David, please, try to be a rational adult for once,” she snapped, her voice low but lethal. “How much do you make a month? Can you afford her physical therapy? Her psych evaluations? A private tutor while she recovers? I am securing her future, while you’re just making noise.” My father withered. He couldn’t afford it. Since the divorce, he’d run a struggling secondhand bookstore. His monthly revenue wouldn’t cover the cost of my mother’s shoes. Seeing him silenced, she turned back to me. “Casey, I am your mother, but I am also an attorney. I know how to fix this. I’ve gotten the Prescott family up to fifty thousand dollars on top of the medical costs. All you have to do is sign a release.” A release. She wanted me to forgive Courtney Prescott. “Mom… Courtney has been hurting me for months.” My voice was trembling now. “She pulled my hair in the hall. She slapped me in front of everyone last semester. I told you. I sent you messages.” My mother frowned. “When? I never received anything like that.” “March 17th. April 2nd. May 14th. I sent three texts. You never replied.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “The firm was closing a major IPO during that window. My inbox was flooded. I must have missed them.” Missed them. Three cries for help, buried under corporate memos. “Casey, let’s not get bogged down in the past,” she said, pulling a folder from her leather tote. She laid it on my lap. “This is the settlement agreement. Look it over. The Prescotts have been very generous.” I looked down at the document. Crisp white paper, perfect formatting, legal jargon. At the bottom, a bolded line caught my eye: The Plaintiff agrees to waive all current and future legal claims against the Defendant. The “Plaintiff” was me. The “Defendant” was Courtney Prescott. I stared at that line until the words blurred. Then I looked at my mother. “Did you draft this?” “I did,” she said, smoothing her hair. “It’s a standard template. I customized it myself.” She had hand-crafted the shield for the girl who broke her daughter’s body. I closed the folder and pushed it back toward her. “I’m not signing it.” My mother’s composure finally cracked. “Casey, don’t be ungrateful. You think anyone just hands out fifty thousand dollars? You take this to court, and you’ll lose. Who’s going to pay for the litigation? Your father?” She stood up, grabbing her bag. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor. “I’ll give you three days to think about it. If the Prescotts withdraw the offer, you get nothing.” The door slammed behind her. My father stood by the window, his back to me, his shoulders shaking. “Casey… trust me.” His voice was a gravelly wreck. “I don’t have the money. But I won’t let you be treated like this.” “I trust you, Dad.” The moment I said those words, the tears finally came. Not because of the pain, but because I had finally accepted the truth. My mother had chosen her client. She hadn’t chosen me. 03 Courtney Prescott had transferred in at the start of the year. Her father was the king of local real estate—net worth in the hundreds of millions. No one knew why she’d moved schools, but she made an impression on day one: she parked her white Porsche right in front of the main entrance. Our homeroom teacher, Mr. Henderson, asked her to move it. She didn’t even look at him. “Take it up with my dad,” she’d said. From that day on, she was untouchable. She targeted me after a mid-term essay. The prompt was “The Person I Admire Most.” I wrote about my father—about how he’d kept the bookstore going after the divorce, how his hands were always covered in ink, and how he’d mail me hand-copied study notes even when he was broke. The teacher read it aloud as an example of “soulful writing.” After class, Courtney poured a latte over my notebook. “What is this trash?” she sneered. “Your dad is a loser who sells dusty garbage. Why would anyone admire that?” The kids around her laughed. I didn’t say a word. I just wiped the pages clean and put them in my bag. That was the beginning. In March, she had her friends throw my backpack into the boys’ bathroom. While I was on my knees retrieving it from the floor, she stood in the doorway filming me. “Look at Casey Sullivan, lurking in the boys’ room. Looking for a date, Casey?” The video went viral in the school group chat. I went to Mr. Henderson. He just sighed. “Casey, I’ll be honest with you. Courtney’s father just donated a new science wing. The principal told me personally… we need to handle her with ‘discretion.’” That night, I sent the first text to my mother. Mom, a girl at school is bullying me. She threw my bag in the boys’ room today. Read. No reply. April 2nd. Courtney dumped a tray of cafeteria food over my head. Gravy dripped down my hair and soaked into my sweater. The whole lunchroom watched. No one moved. I texted my mother again. Mom, she did it again. It’s getting worse. Can you please talk to the school? I waited all night. At 2:00 AM, she sent four words: Handle it yourself, Casey. May 14th. She cornered me in the gym locker room, grabbed my hair, and told me to get on my knees and apologize. Her reason? My test scores were higher than hers, and it made her look “stupid.” I refused. She kicked me twice in the ribs. I stayed huddled on the floor for thirty minutes before I could stand up. I sent the third text. Mom, Courtney Prescott is hurting me. I’m scared to go to school. That time, it wasn’t even marked as ‘Read.’ Then came that Friday. After school, the hallways were mostly empty. Courtney and two of her shadows blocked my way on the third-floor landing. “I heard you went back to Henderson, Casey. You just don’t learn, do you?” I had gone back. Mr. Henderson had been trying to arrange a transfer for me to a different elective to get me away from her. Somehow, the news had leaked. Courtney grabbed my collar and shoved me toward the edge of the stairs. “You think you can just run away? You didn’t ask for my permission.” She was smiling, like she was telling a joke. Then she pulled her foot back and slammed it into my chest. My back hit the railing. My center of gravity vanished. Three floors. As I fell, I heard the sound of my own bones snapping. Then, the world went black. I woke up in the ICU. Seven days of silence. Three ignored pleas for help. One mother. Eight minutes. One settlement. Fifty thousand dollars. I lay in the hospital bed, took screenshots of those three ignored messages, and sent them to my father. He stared at his phone for a long time. “Casey,” he said softly. “Your classmate. Hannah? The one who sits next to you?” “Yeah?” “She found me today. She says she has a video.” 04 Hannah was quiet. She kept her head down, got B-minors, and tried to be invisible. When Courtney bullied me, Hannah never stood up for me. I didn’t blame her. Everyone was afraid. But I didn’t know she had been recording. My father handed me his phone. On the screen was a video, three minutes and twenty seconds long. The camera was shaky, filmed from behind a pillar on the third floor. It captured the hallway and the stairs perfectly. You could see Courtney clutching my shirt, her mouth moving, though the words were muffled. Then she let go, stepped back, and raised her right foot. The kick. My body hitting the rail and flipping over. The video cut off right there. The last frame was Hannah’s finger obscuring the lens as she likely dropped the phone in horror. “She was too scared to come forward,” my father said. “She was terrified of what the Prescotts would do to her family. But when she heard you were in the ICU… she couldn’t live with it.” Three minutes and twenty seconds. It was all there. Courtney’s face. The intent. The smirk she wore right before she ended my life as I knew it. “Dad, did you save this?” “I saved it. It’s on my phone, a thumb drive, and uploaded to the cloud.” I looked at him. He didn’t sound like a bookstore owner. He sounded sharp. “You used to be a reporter, didn’t you?” He flinched, then gave a bitter smile. “Did your mother tell you that?” “No. I saw your old press badge in the back of the store once.” “Yeah. Eight years at the State Ledger. Social justice beat, investigative pieces. After the divorce… I lost the fire for it. I just wanted something quiet.” When he said he ‘lost the fire,’ his eyes flickered. I didn’t push him. “Dad, with this video, can we charge her?” “We can. But the video isn’t enough.” He pulled a chair close to the bed. His tone had shifted. He wasn’t comforting a daughter anymore; he was a journalist connecting dots. “Casey, tell me the truth. Did Courtney only target you?” I thought about it. “No. Last year she beat up a guy in the junior class. He transferred a week later. And there was a girl named Sarah who got slapped in the bathroom. But no one reported it. Her dad is too powerful.” My father nodded, pulling out a small, battered notebook. He had already filled three pages. “Your mother saw your texts, Casey. The first one was read. The second one she replied to. The third stayed unread. She wasn’t ignorant. She was complicit.” He wrote as he spoke, his handwriting jagged but precise. In that moment, I saw him differently. This man, who made five grand a month, who lived in a cramped apartment, who couldn’t afford an umbrella. He was sitting across from me like a general preparing for war. “Casey, listen to me.” He closed the notebook. “There’s a deli across from your school. The owner, Mr. Miller. I went to see him.” “When?” “The third day you were in here.” “But you weren’t even here yet.” “I couldn’t get through to you or your mother. I was frantic. I started calling every business near the school campus.”

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At the gala meant to welcome the “real” heiress back into society, Cassidy Montgomery did the unthinkable. In front of every old-money titan and gossip-hungry socialite in Manhattan, she dropped to her knees, sobbing and begging our parents to save her deadbeat boyfriend. “Jax owes the underground bookies five million,” she wailed, her voice cracking through the silence of the ballroom. “If he doesn’t pay by midnight, they’re going to break his legs. They’ll kill him!” She looked up at our parents, her mascara running in ugly black tracks down her face. “The Montgomerys have more money than God. Why can’t you just pay it? Why won’t you help him?” The air in the room turned brittle. My parents stood frozen, their faces turning a ghastly shade of grey. This was supposed to be their triumph—the return of their biological daughter after twenty years of separation. Instead, she was dragging our name through the gutter before the first course was even served. I stepped forward, trying to salvage the wreckage. “Cassidy, get up. This is a family matter. We’ll discuss it in private.” She didn’t just refuse; she lunged. She shoved me so hard I stumbled back against a champagne tower, the glass rattling ominously. “Why do you get to use their money, Jessica? You’re the fraud! You’re the one who lived my life while I was rotting in the sticks. If you won’t give me the five million to save Jax, I’m not moving. I’ll stay right here until I die.” I looked down at her—at the sheer, agonizing stupidity of a woman blinded by a toxic “love” that was clearly eating her alive. I reached into my clutch, pulled out a pre-prepared severance agreement, and dropped it at her feet. “Sign this. Relinquish your claim to the Montgomery estate and cut ties with this family forever. Do that, and I’ll wire the five million to your boyfriend’s bookie right now.” … Cassidy picked up the document, her hands shaking like a leaf in a storm. Then, she snarled. She threw the papers directly at my face, her eyes bloodshot and filled with a primal, jagged hatred. “Jessica Montgomery, you’re the one who should’ve been kicked to the curb the moment I walked through that door,” she spat. “My parents haven’t said a word. What right do you—the replacement—have to tell me to leave?” The room went cold. I could hear the whispers starting like a hissing radiator. People knew. They knew that in this city, I was the one who held the leash. I reached out, my fingers clenching her chin with just enough pressure to make her wince. I looked down at her from a height she would never truly reach. “What right? Today, I’m going to show you exactly what right I have.” I glanced toward the back of the room. “Arthur, clear the floor.” With a single nod to our head of security, the doors were thrown open. Within minutes, every guest—including the city’s most powerful power-players—filed out through the back exits in a stunned, disciplined silence. No one dared to laugh. No one dared to linger. Cassidy had no idea. She didn’t know that for the last five years, I was the one who had bled for this family. I was the one who navigated the shark-infested waters of the shipping industry to save our company from bankruptcy while our father’s heart was failing. I was the one who took the hits, intercepted the lawsuits, and maintained the “Montgomery dignity” while she was playing house with a gambler. Without the “fake” daughter, the Montgomerys would have been a cautionary tale years ago. She didn’t have the luxury of judging me. “I’m asking you one last time,” I said, my voice flat. “Sign it, or don’t.” She looked at our parents, her eyes pleading for a miracle. My father looked away, and my mother fixed her gaze on the floor. Their silence was my mandate. Cassidy broke. She collapsed into a fit of hysterical sobbing. “Dad, Mom… the people who raised me were monsters. Jax was the only one who ever looked at me like I mattered. Without him, I’m nothing. I can’t lose him.” She crawled toward my father, clutching at his tuxedo trousers. “Dad, please. Just this once. Just help him this one time!” Then, in a blur of desperate motion, she scrambled toward the buffet table and grabbed a steak knife, pressing the serrated edge against her own throat. “If you don’t help him, I’ll end it right here!” I didn’t flinch. I walked straight up to her, grabbed her wrist, and turned the point of the blade into her skin just enough to draw a pinprick of red. “You want to die? Let me help you.” I applied a fraction more pressure. She gasped, the bravado evaporating as the reality of cold steel hit her. “Ah… stop!” She slumped to the floor, the knife clattering away. I knelt beside her, whispering so only she could hear. “Listen to me, little sister. You play by my rules, and you stay a Montgomery. You get the trust fund, the connections, the life you were born for. But there is a price: you dump the gambler. You marry the youngest Moretti son. That is your job. That is what a real Montgomery does.” After a long, agonizing silence, she nodded weakly. “Fine.” For a few days after the gala, Cassidy went quiet. she retreated into her wing of the estate, refusing to speak, eating her meals in solitary confinement. “Keep an eye on her,” I told the housekeeper. “Every move she makes, I want a report.” I was in the middle of a high-stakes negotiation with a West Coast logistics firm when my phone buzzed. It was the head of security. “Miss Montgomery, Cassidy just left the house.” “Follow her. Tell me where she goes.” Ten minutes later, the update came in. “She’s at a high-end pawn shop in the Diamond District. She brought your vintage Birkin and the sapphire necklace.” The idiot. She was hockng my heritage to fund her loser’s addiction. “Let her go for now,” I said, my jaw tightening. A few days later, I pulled Cassidy out of her room. “Get in the car. I’m taking you somewhere.” We drove to an illegal gambling den tucked behind a dry cleaner in Queens. Inside, the “love of her life” was draped over a blackjack table, a cocktail in one hand and a scantily clad dealer on his lap, laughing as he blew through thousands. “See that?” I pointed. “That’s the jewelry you stole. He’s literally throwing your ‘sacrifice’ into the trash.” Cassidy’s eyes turned a violent shade of red. “You brought me here just to mock me, didn’t you? I love him, Jessica. I don’t care what he does. At least he’s human. You’re just a cold-blooded killer. You don’t even know what love is. You’re pathetic.” I actually laughed. It was a sharp, bitter sound. “Maybe I don’t know love, but I know the penal code. That jewelry was worth ten million. The bags? Five. That’s grand larceny, Cassidy. I could have you in a jumpsuit by dinner.” She crumpled into a heap on the sidewalk. For the sake of our parents’ reputations, I didn’t call the police. I just gave the order: “Cut off her accounts. Move her into the smallest guest room. She stays there until she learns how to be a daughter.” I thought that would be enough. I thought the shock would clear the fog. I was wrong. A week later, security caught her sneaking out to meet him again. I dropped everything and drove to the fleabag motel where they were hiding. I kicked the door in. They were in bed, a mess of tangled sheets and cheap booze. But that wasn’t what made my blood boil. Cassidy’s face was a map of bruises—yellow and purple welts across her cheek and brow. I didn’t even think. I grabbed her by her hair, pulled her off the bed, and slapped her hard enough to make her head ring. “You stupid, God-awful brat!” I screamed. “You’re engaged to a Moretti! If the press gets a whiff of this—if the Morettis find out you’re slumming it with this parasite—they’ll pull out of the shipping merger. The overseas routes we’ve spent a decade building will evaporate in a day.” The Morettis controlled the three major Atlantic shipping lanes. They were the key to our survival. Ten years, countless millions, and more than a few ‘disappeared’ rivals had paved the way for this alliance. Three years ago, I had saved the Moretti matriarch’s grandson from a kidnapping attempt. That was the only reason they even considered us. If they knew Cassidy was cheating on their son with a street-level gambler, they wouldn’t just cancel the deal. They’d bury us. But Cassidy just looked at me with a swollen eye and a defiant smirk. “So what? Your business is a drop in the bucket compared to my heart. I said I’d marry the guy, isn’t that enough?” “He beat you, Cassidy!” I pointed at her face. “That’s how he loves you? With his fists? Next time, he won’t just bruise you. He’ll break you into pieces.” I turned to the man on the bed—Jax—who hadn’t said a word the entire time. He was a coward, through and through. I looked at my security team. “Take him to the pier. Let him see if he can swim with the fishes.” “No!” Cassidy shrieked. “Jessica, you can’t! That’s murder! I’ll go to the cops!” “The cops?” I leaned in close. “I played poker with the Police Commissioner last night and ‘lost’ half a million to his favorite charity. Go ahead. Tell them whatever you want. The door is right there.” She collapsed, the fight leaving her. “Fine… just let him go. I won’t see him again. I promise.” When we got back, she didn’t say a word to our parents. But at dinner, she made a sudden announcement. “Dad, Mom… I want to start interning at the firm. I want to be like Jessica. I want to help the family.” My parents looked at me, waiting for my approval. “Fine,” I said. “Start tomorrow. You’re my junior assistant.” She started to protest, but a sharp look from my father silenced her. At the office, I threw a mountain of files on her desk. “Learn them. Ask if you’re confused.” Later that afternoon, during a senior management meeting, the door swung open. Cassidy walked in, looking more polished than I’d ever seen her. “Hope I’m not late, sister. I thought I should start learning how the big decisions are made.” Technically, she didn’t have the clearance. But for the sake of peace at home, I let her stay. She was suddenly attentive, asking questions, hovering. I answered everything, thinking maybe—just maybe—she was finally growing up. The day we were set to sign the final contract with the Morettis, she insisted on coming along. “I want to see my fiancé. And I want to be there for our big win.” We were in the Moretti boardroom. Victor Moretti, the CEO, had the pen poised over the signature line when his phone rang. He listened for ten seconds, and his face turned the color of a thunderstorm. He hung up and stood, pulling a sleek black pistol from his desk drawer and leveling it at my forehead. “Jessica. Are you here to spit in my face?” I didn’t move. I raised my hands slowly. “Victor, we’ve worked together for years. If there’s a problem, tell me.” “A problem?” He threw his phone onto the table. “You sign a merger with me, while your people are currently hijacking my shipments at the Jersey docks. Look for yourself.” The video was clear. Men in Montgomery uniforms were raiding a Moretti vessel. “Victor, this is a mistake. Let me make a call.” I dialed my logistics manager. “What the hell is going on at Dock 3?” “Boss? You gave the order! You said to seize the Moretti cargo so we wouldn’t have to pay the transit fees!” “I never—” I turned. Cassidy was standing by the window, a smug, dark smile playing on her lips. “And then there’s the matter of my son’s honor,” Victor growled. He threw a stack of photos onto the table. They were high-resolution shots of Cassidy and Jax in the motel room. Graphic. Humiliating. Click. Victor cocked the hammer. “My gun hasn’t tasted blood in a long time. Today, one of you stays here permanently.” I closed my eyes for a heartbeat. Then I looked at Victor. “I’ll stay. Let her go.” Cassidy’s smile faltered. She looked at me, stunned. “You’re… letting me go?” “Get out!” I barked. She didn’t wait. She scrambled out of the room, her heels clicking frantically down the hall. A minute later, a shot echoed through the penthouse. I walked into the Montgomery estate hours later, my white silk blouse stained with red. Cassidy was already tucked into bed, probably dreaming of her “victory.” I didn’t knock. I burst into her room, grabbed her by her hair, and slammed her head against the mahogany headboard. “You stole my corporate seal,” I hissed. “You sent those men to the docks to sabotage the Moretti deal, didn’t you?” “Get off me! You’re crazy!” she screamed. “Tell me the truth, or you won’t live to see the sunrise.” I slammed her again. Her nose started to bleed, the red dripping onto her silk pillowcase. “Yes! It was me!” she shrieked. “So what? You lost a business deal. Big deal! I lost my life! I lost Jax!” She laughed, a jagged, broken sound. “I wanted to destroy you. I wanted to burn the Montgomery name to the ground. Your status, your precious company—it’s all a lie anyway. I sent the photos to Victor myself. How does it feel, Jessica? To lose everything?” “Housekeeper!” I yelled. “Lock her in the basement guest room. No phones, no visitors, no exits.” I didn’t tell my parents the truth. I told them I’d been in a minor car accident. But while I was in the hospital getting my shoulder stitched up, they came rushing into my room, frantic. “Jessica, it’s Cassidy! She’s gone!” “I told the staff to keep her locked down,” I gritted out, the pain in my shoulder searing. “Idiots.” My father’s phone chimed. It was a video. Cassidy was tied to a chair, her face battered, her clothes torn. “Dad, Mom… please! They kidnapped me! They want fifty million or they’ll kill me! Please, just pay them!” My mother collapsed into a chair, sobbing. “Jessica, you have to save her. I know she’s been difficult, but she’s our blood. Please.” My father looked like he was about to drop to his knees. I caught him before he could. “Dad, stop. I’ll get her back.” I called the CFO and authorized the fifty-million-dollar wire. Then, I put a call out to every contact I had in the city’s underworld. Find her. Ten million for the location of the kidnappers. Three days later, I got a hit. An abandoned construction site in the industrial outskirts of the city. When I arrived, the only sound was the wind whistling through empty steel beams. Then, a gunshot cracked near my ear. “You really aren’t as smart as you think you are, Jessica.” Cassidy was standing on a catwalk, looking perfectly fine. Beside her stood Jax, holding a rifle. “I knew they’d send you to ‘save’ me,” she mocked. “So I set a trap. You’ve been the queen of this family long enough. Today, the fraud dies.” Before I could move, a dozen armed men in black tactical gear emerged from the shadows, surrounding me. “You stupid, treacherous girl,” I said, staring at her. “You’re tearing your own family apart for a man who would sell your organs for a winning parlay.” Jax walked up to me and kicked me square in the ribs, sending me to the dirt. He climbed on top of me, raining blows down on my face until I tasted copper. “Shut up, bitch! You ruined my life. Today, I take what’s mine.” I spat a mouthful of blood into his face and grinned. “You? You’re a one-handed gambler who can’t even pay his own rent. You think you’re a king?” He roared and kicked me again. My ribs groaned under the impact. “What’s the matter, Jax?” I wheezed. “Swing harder. You hit like a debutante.” He grabbed a pistol from one of the mercenaries and pressed it to my temple. “I’ll kill you right now!” I looked him dead in the eye. “Do it. Pull the trigger. And tomorrow, my people will find your mother in her little rent-controlled apartment and make sure she never wakes up. Go on. Shoot.” His hand began to shake. “He might not have the guts, but I do.” I looked up. Tristan Blackwood, the CEO of Blackwood Holdings—our primary rival—stepped out of the shadows. “Jessica. Long time no see.” “So, you’re the puppet master,” I muttered. “You used this idiot to steal my seal, sabotage the Morettis, and lure me here.” Tristan chuckled. “You were always the smart one, Jessica. Too bad the ‘real’ daughter is such a convenient tool. But let’s be honest—you aren’t even a Montgomery. Why die for them?” He dropped a stack of papers in front of me. “Transfer the Montgomery shipping assets to Blackwood, and I’ll let you walk.” “Is that so? Well, we’ll see who’s walking out of here today.” I looked at Cassidy. “You see him, Cassidy? You’re dancing with a wolf. You want my life, but he wants your legacy. You’re just a pawn he’s going to discard the second I’m dead.” “Shut up!” Cassidy shrieked, snatching the gun from Jax and aiming it at my head. “I’d rather the company go to a stranger than stay with a liar like you!” “Don’t hesitate, babe,” Jax urged. “Kill her and we’re rich!” Cassidy pulled the trigger. But before her bullet could find me, a sniper round whistled through the air, shattering the gun in her hand. Suddenly, the perimeter exploded. Hundreds of my men, backed by heavy tactical vehicles, stormed the site.

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The day I found out I was pregnant, I rushed through the rain to surprise Ethan at the club. Through the crack in the door, I heard laughter from him and his twin brother. “When Rosie finds out on her wedding day that she’s been sleeping with her boyfriend’s twin brother for three years, won’t she completely break down?” So three years of sweetness had been nothing but a revenge scheme orchestrated for his first love, Vivian. Even every intimate moment had been calculated, with them switching identities. On the wedding day, I personally exposed Vivian for who she really was, making the brothers kneel before me in public regret. A year later, when I returned from the war zone, they knelt before me begging to get back together, but I smiled while holding Sebastian’s hand. “Too late. I’ve moved on, and you two will never find redemption.” Rosie’s POV The day I found out I was pregnant, I rushed through heavy rain to the club Ethan frequently visited. At the private room door, I wiped my drenched hair, planning to wait for him to finish and surprise him. Through the slightly open door, a laughing male voice drifted out. “Ethan, your wedding with Rosie is in one week. Is the wedding surprise all prepared?” “It’s ready,” Ethan’s cool voice was steeped in alcohol. “I’ll give her a memory she’ll never forget.” My hand paused mid-wipe, and I couldn’t help but smile. In the three years I’d been with Ethan, he’d truly cherished me like a treasure, loving me to the bone. “If Rosie found out I’ve been pretending to be you and playing her all this time, wouldn’t she just collapse and lose her mind on the spot?” “Rosie probably would never imagine in her wildest dreams that Ethan has an identical twin brother!” “She’s always been so high and mighty, hasn’t she? If she knew she’d been screwed by her boyfriend’s brother for three years, I wonder how priceless her expression would be.” The men’s malicious laughter froze me in place instantly. I could barely believe my ears. I stepped forward to see what was happening inside the room. The next second, I saw a man sitting next to Ethan who looked exactly like him-from appearance to hairstyle, even the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye was identical! The man let out a scoff and leaned back lazily on the sofa. “Who told her to bully Vivian? Vivian is my brother’s precious treasure. To punish her and make her fall from the highest happiness into hell, my brother really went through a lot.” The male friends who were usually warm to me chimed in with teasing remarks. “Ryan, you’re the one who had it hard. You did all the physical work these past few years!” “If I looked the same, I’d want to do that physical work too!” “Exactly. That face, that body Rosie has. Damn. If she goes crazy after the wedding, why not let us have some fun with her first?” “Ethan came up with this plan for Vivian, played along for three years, and still managed not to touch her. What a good man!” Ethan. Ryan. Vivian. My head buzzed, my blood nearly freezing, unable to breathe. My body trembled uncontrollably, and tears spilled from my eyes without permission. So the love I thought was happiness had been a lie all along. A trap set for me because of Vivian, my tormentor. In the past, when I woke from nightmares about Vivian, it was Ethan who held me and comforted me, telling me not to be afraid. In the past, when I talked about my experiences of being bullied, he was the one who soothed me over and over, taking me to see therapists. I didn’t dare believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t understand. Those moments of being loved had been so vivid. How could they possibly be fake? The voices in the room continued. “Vivian’s coming back to the country soon. Ethan, you won’t have to keep flying back and forth anymore. All those weekly flights. Aren’t you tired?” “After three years of role-playing, I can finally be myself again! Every time my brother flies overseas, I’m the one coaxing Rosie…” “Your voices are different. She never noticed?” Ryan scoffed. “That stupid woman. I deliberately lowered my voice and told her I had laryngitis. Every time she fussed over me, waking up before dawn to make me breakfast!” Another round of raucous laughter. Ethan interrupted. “Enough. After the wedding ends, I’ll give her a large sum of money. Enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.” “Ethan, don’t tell me you’ve actually developed feelings for her?” My heart trembled. I instinctively held my breath, staring intently at that noble-looking man. Two seconds later, I watched him let out a light scoff. “How could that be possible?” “What about Ryan? After sleeping with her for three years, you didn’t catch feelings, did you?” Ethan turned to look at Ryan, who shook his head vigorously. “After three years, I’m sick of her. Brother, why don’t you take a turn?” Ethan smiled coldly. “I find her disgusting.” “Look, this wedding was something she begged for. I’m only giving her money to keep her from clinging to me.” “Time’s a bit tight. Help me prepare.” “One week from now, right after revealing the truth, I’m going to propose to Vivian!”

Rosie’s POV I don’t know how I left the club. Rain pelted my body like beans, but I didn’t care. Only the conversation from the room replayed over and over in my mind. Vivian… Just hearing that name made my whole body tremble uncontrollably. I didn’t understand. She’d already left the country. Why wouldn’t she leave me alone? Why was she so obsessed with completely destroying me? Just because of a title, “Most Beautiful Girl on Campus.” Because my candid photo beat Vivian’s heavily edited entry photo, Vivian had cornered me in the bathroom with a group of people, tormented me with every method possible, then shoved my head into a toilet. Because I refused to kneel and apologize, for the next three years, I lived through hell. She beat me up. She stabbed me with needles. She even put thumbtacks in my shoes, got the whole class to isolate and bully me, sabotaged my part-time jobs, spread rumors about me. She also arranged for many rich guys to pursue me. Once I overheard her plot. She wanted money to corrupt me, then cruelly abandon me. Vivian never succeeded. Even when she studied abroad in junior year, she hadn’t completely broken me. But by then, I was already severely depressed and engaging in serious self-harm. That’s when Ethan appeared. He wasn’t like the other rich boys pursuing her, always examining me with lewd, appraising eyes, throwing bank cards at me. His gaze was honest. He genuinely tried to understand my struggles and listen to my needs. When he learned I had a grandmother who needed long-term medication, he didn’t look down on me. Instead, he improved my life within limits I could accept. He introduced me to internships and part-time jobs. Between work shifts, he’d sit with me at convenience stores eating dinner, then gently pat my head. “Rosie, you’ve worked so hard. You’re really amazing.” Once when Grandma got sick and I was out of town, Ethan sent her to the hospital and personally stayed with her for a day and night. When I rushed back the next day, he was exhausted but smiled to comfort me. “Grandma’s fine. Don’t worry. Don’t wear yourself out.” A voice inside me said then: “It’s him. Try to trust him. Regardless of the outcome, treasure the present.” Later, he continued to treat me well, even bravely standing up to his family to be with me. Ryan’s contemptuous mocking laughter echoed in my mind again. “She’s so stupid. How could the family allow an orphan like her to marry in? Just hire two actors to put on a show, have my brother fight for her a bit, and she’s completely devoted.” “So stupid. Three years and she never noticed anything wrong.” “So stupid. Even now she thinks Ethan is devoted to her.” “So stupid, so stupid, so stupid…” I collapsed in the rain, tears mixing with rainwater pouring down. So stupid… I really was… so stupid. I threw my head back and laughed madly, letting the torrential rain ruthlessly pound my face. My phone rang suddenly. It was Grandma’s caregiver. “Rosie, come quick! Your grandma isn’t going to make it!” My head buzzed, instantly going blank, my limbs going weak. On pure instinct, I scrambled up from the ground and rushed to the roadside to flag down a car. But every car just flashed their lights frantically, honking long and driving past. Just as I was about to run to the hospital, a Range Rover stopped. A rugged-looking man asked my destination. Not caring about safety, I quickly got in. When I reached the hospital, the doctor had already issued a critical condition notice. “Respiratory failure. Resuscitation would be meaningless. Spend some quality time with her.” I fell to my knees, trembling as I grasped Grandma’s hand. Grandma smiled with effort. “Rosie… don’t cry… I’m sorry. Grandma still couldn’t hold on until your wedding…” I shook my head forcefully. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t control my anguished sobs. Grandma’s gaze searched the room with difficulty. “Where’s Ethan… Grandma wants to see him…” “Okay.” I pulled out my phone, dialing Ethan’s number over and over. The calls were hung up repeatedly. I quickly sent messages. “Ethan, Grandma’s heart is failing. She can’t hold on. Please come to the hospital quickly. Grandma wants to see you one last time.” “Ethan, Grandma is waiting for you. Just one visit. Can you come?” “Ethan, please…” My trembling hands rapidly tapped the keyboard, tears falling one by one onto the phone screen. In that moment, lies and deception didn’t matter. As long as Ethan could come, as long as Grandma could pass peacefully, nothing else mattered. But there was no word from Ethan. I stopped, forced out a smile with all my strength, and held Grandma’s hand trying to comfort her. “Grandma, Ethan is probably tied up with something. Don’t worry. Our relationship is great. We’re getting married next week.” “Grandma, I’ll be very happy… Please don’t worry…” The hand clasped in mine suddenly tightened. Grandma stared at me intently. “Rosie… live well… be happy…” Her hand went limp. In her final look at me, there was worry… I looked at my palm, then collapsed to my knees crying my heart out. That night, I handled Grandma’s funeral arrangements according to protocol, and still didn’t receive any reply from Ethan. During a waiting period, I unblocked Vivian’s contact from my blacklist and clicked into her Instagram. “Originally planned to come back early and create a surprise, but I’m the one who got surprised!” The background photo was at the airport. Ethan wore a mascot costume, holding flowers, his sweaty head poking out, smiling, his eyes gentle. There was also a photo of the two of them together. She smiled sweetly. Ethan’s face was turned toward her, his gaze tender. Disheartened, I turned off the screen. The next afternoon, carrying Grandma’s urn back to the hospital, two things happened. First, I fell down the stairs in my dazed state. The baby in my belly was gone. I needed to come back for a follow-up in three days. Second, I submitted an application to Doctors Without Borders. My supervisor looked at me in surprise. “Aren’t you getting married soon?” I was silent for a moment. “Not anymore. I need to leave. The sooner the better!” Looking at me, my supervisor said nothing more. “You just made the registration deadline. Take these few days off to prepare.” “One week from now, gather at the hospital to depart.” “Okay.” One week from now. Exactly the time of my wedding with Ethan. I wouldn’t just leave that day. I’d also give them a gift on that day they’d never forget.

Rosie’s POV Considering where I was going was rather dangerous, I chose to bury Grandma. I bought an urn pendant, placed some of Grandma’s hair along with a bit of ash inside, and buried the rest in a cemetery. I knelt before the gravestone, gripping the pendant at my chest. “Don’t worry, Grandma. I’m about to go do what I want to do. I’ll protect myself well.” I returned to the villa in the evening. As soon as I entered, I heard cheerful laughter inside. The instant I froze, Ethan had already noticed me. He strode forward and brought me inside. “Come, let me introduce two friends.” A man and woman on the sofa stood up, turned to look at me, their eyes flashing with mockery. It was Vivian and Ryan. My whole body trembled slightly, uncontrollably. This was my physiological response when facing Vivian. Ethan’s voice carried laughter. “Vivian is a good friend I grew up with. Ryan is my twin brother. They just came back from studying abroad, just in time to attend our wedding.” Vivian waved at me, smiling sweetly. “Rosie and I know each other. We were college roommates.” As she spoke, she rushed over to link arms with me, whispering in my ear. “Right, Rosie?” Countless images flashed before my eyes. Every time after bullying me, Vivian would whisper in my ear. “Just roommate jokes, right, Rosie?” I instinctively shuddered and pushed Vivian away. Vivian sat on the floor looking aggrieved. “Rosie, do you still dislike me? I just want to get along well with you.” Both men’s expressions changed. Ethan rushed over to help Vivian up, his eyes dark. Ryan frowned in displeasure. “Ethan, your fiancée has quite the temper. She’s not even your wife yet and already this arrogant?” Ethan shielded Vivian behind him, his tone angry and cold. “Rosie, apologize!” I looked at the three of them, my hands hanging at my sides quietly clenching into fists. Thinking of what I’d heard last night, my heart felt like it was being forcibly torn open. I silently turned to leave. I’d barely taken two steps when my wrist was seized, the enormous force making me stumble. I looked up into Ethan’s eyes, churning with anger. “Who gave you permission to leave?” Ryan’s tone was cold. “A family like the Graysons values propriety above all. Ethan, your fiancée needs to be properly disciplined.” “You’re right.” Ethan’s eyes were icy. “Rosie, you’re about to marry me. You must watch your words and actions and constantly restrain your behavior.” “Reflect on what happened today.” With that, he forcibly dragged me to the basement and pushed me into one of the rooms. Before I could react, he’d already closed the door. The tightly sealed door let in not a sliver of light. Only then did I realize that it was a small dark room with no windows. In pure darkness, my breathing became rapid. I pounded on the door in terror. But no matter how much I shouted, there was no response from outside. I fell into endless panic. In college, Vivian had locked me in a small dark room for three days. No sound, no light. The passage of time became especially drawn out. That time, I had a mental breakdown. Since then, I’ve feared darkness and developed claustrophobia. These past few years, I turned on all the lights every night, even when sleeping. Ethan was very uncomfortable at first, tossing and turning, unable to sleep, waking easily. But every time I suggested trying to turn off the lights, he’d refuse. “Rosie, you don’t need to force yourself to do anything. I can adapt.” He clearly knew. They… all knew. Yet they still chose to punish me this way, just because I pushed Vivian once. My heart ached dully. I curled up in the corner, holding my trembling self tightly. Yes, the past warmth had been fake all along. It was deliberately performed by them. Even this dark room was probably custom-made for me.

Rosie’s POV Two days later, Ethan came to open the door, a pleased smile playing at his lips. “Vivian doesn’t blame you for what happened last time. Get ready. We’re going to try on wedding dresses and rings.” I was taken to a bridal shop. As soon as I got out of the car, I saw Vivian and Ryan already waiting inside. Vivian greeted me enthusiastically. “Rosie, you’re here? I didn’t get a chance to congratulate you last time. Ethan and I are best friends. Today let me help you choose a wedding dress!” Her face wore a smile, waiting to see me lose composure. I showed not a trace of terror or disgust, smiling as I said: “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Vivian’s expression darkened instantly, then she raised her smile again, linking arms with both Ethan and Ryan on either side, saying meaningfully: “Then I’ll try them on with you. Rosie, I’ll be a bride very soon too.” I smiled. “Congratulations.” The light in Vivian’s eyes completely darkened. After that, whenever I glanced twice at a wedding dress, Vivian would call the staff over first and try it on. Each time she came out, she’d take Ethan’s hand. “Ethan, how is it? Does it look good?” And each time Ethan looked entranced, lavishing praise. Ryan also circled around Vivian. The two completely ignored me. The staff member said enviously: “This bride is so lucky…” Vivian let out an “oh!” and turned to look at me standing aside like an outsider. “Sorry, Rosie. You’re the bride. You should try them on first.” She punched Ethan’s chest playfully. “Ethan, what’s wrong with you? How can you leave your bride standing on the side!” The staff all wore embarrassed expressions. Ryan’s lips curved in a mocking smile. Only then did Ethan look at me. “See anything you like?” I randomly selected one and went to try it on. When I came out, all three were already gone. The staff member looked sympathetic. “Miss, Ms. Moore said she was going to choose rings. Both gentlemen went with her. As for you…” “It’s fine.” I took off the wedding dress, returned it, and left directly. Soon after, Vivian posted on Instagram with a photo of a diamond ring encrusted with gems: “The ring Ethan bought for me at auction.” I glanced at it once then turned off the screen, continuing to pack. Besides the clothes and necessities I needed to take, I found and discarded all my remaining belongings, including gifts I’d once given Ethan. Everything Ethan had given me, I didn’t touch. Just as I’d finished packing my suitcase and put it in the closet, Ethan walked in carrying a blue velvet box. “This is the ring I bought you at the auction.” I recognized it. It was the gift pictured in Vivian’s Instagram post. I took it and set it aside. My overly indifferent reaction made Ethan frown. His gaze shifted and he noticed the couple’s mug I used to treasure in the trash can. He raised an eyebrow. “Why’d you throw out the mug? Are you angry?” I pressed my lips together. “No.” But Ethan was convinced. “Is it about the dress fitting? Vivian is just my good friend. We haven’t seen each other in years, so I paid a bit more attention to her.” He reached out to hold me. “No need to be angry with her. If Vivian and I had something, we’d have gotten together long ago, wouldn’t we? Rosie, you’re my bride. Don’t you understand my heart?” Hearing this, my heart felt viciously seized, sharp pain radiating through it. Ethan stroked my head upon seeing this. “I’m sorry, Rosie. I made you feel wronged.” At those words, my fingertips trembled slightly, then clenched into fists, nails digging deep into my palms. In that instant, I impulsively wanted to question him, to distinguish his true feelings from false, to know if he’d had even a shred of genuine feeling in these three years. But the words reached my lips and I swallowed them down forcibly. Ethan’s phone rang. He quickly answered. “Vivian… I’ll be right there…” After hanging up, he ruffled my hair. “I still have something to handle. Get some rest early and be the most beautiful bride in a few days.” With that, he quickly turned and left. I sat on the bed, forcing the tears in my eyes back. Two hours later, I’d washed up and was lying in bed, preparing to sleep. In my drowsy state, the bedroom door was suddenly opened. Ethan, who was supposed to be at the bar accompanying Vivian to a party, walked in. He reeked of alcohol. He casually tore open his shirt and lifted my blanket, covering me. The instant our skin touched, my drowsiness vanished completely. I became acutely aware. The person covering me was Ryan.

Rosie’s POV I used every ounce of strength to push the person on top of me away forcefully and shrank against the headboard. Ryan frowned at me for two seconds, then raised an eyebrow. “Still angry?” He rubbed his temples, his manner identical to Ethan’s. His alcohol-soaked voice was also indistinguishable. If I hadn’t heard that Ethan was staying pure for Vivian, I wouldn’t be able to tell them apart at all. He leaned in close again, hands braced behind me, our noses touching. “I already explained today. If I had feelings for her, I wouldn’t be marrying you.” Ryan moved to kiss me. My eyes went wide. I jerked my head aside to dodge and started dry heaving. I heaved until my eyes nearly cried, but still couldn’t suppress it. I pushed the man away and rushed to the bathroom. Ryan watched me, brow slightly furrowed, eyes flickering. In the bathroom, I slid down the wall slowly and crouched on the floor. Outside the door, Ryan’s voice suddenly rang out. “Did you guys hear that? This woman’s dry heaving. Could she be pregnant?” Immediately after came a chorus of stunned exclamations. One of the guys shouted loudly: “Ryan, don’t let this get out of hand. What if she clings to you when the truth comes out?” My spine instantly stiffened, my limbs going cold. I realized Ryan’s phone had been on a call the whole time. Vivian’s voice followed into my ears. “Ethan, Ryan, you’re going too far…” “Too far?” Ethan’s tone was ice cold. “She’s targeted you for so long. This is the punishment she deserves.” Vivian said worriedly: “But what if Rosie really is pregnant?” After a moment of silence, both men said in unison: “Impossible!” On the other end of the call, Ethan’s voice was especially merciless. “Even if she is, I won’t let her keep it. Ryan, what do you say?” Ryan’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice. “Of course.” The next second, I opened the door and looked at him. He quickly ended the call and stepped forward. “What’s wrong, Rosie? Why do you look so bad? Are you feeling unwell somewhere? You’re not… pregnant, are you?” I stared at him steadily, the corner of my mouth twitching. “No. My stomach condition flared up.” Early the next morning, I went to the hospital for my follow-up appointment as scheduled. I walked out of the hospital at noon. Ethan called, and immediately after, his car stopped at the hospital entrance. He quickly got out and guided me to the passenger seat. “Come on, let me take you to eat.” Silent the whole way, the smile never left Ethan’s lips. The song playing in his car was Vivian’s favorite from our student days. Also the song I hated most. As soon as we arrived at the restaurant, I saw Vivian and Ryan waiting for us. Vivian pointed at the cake on the table. “Rosie, yesterday I was out of line. This is a viral cake I specially stood in line to buy as an apology. You must try it.” At the table, Vivian kept bringing up stories from when the three of them were young. “Ethan and Ryan have doted on me since we were little. Back then when we played house, they’d compete to be my groom!” “Once I climbed a tree and couldn’t get down. Ethan lay on the ground to be my cushion.” “In middle school when I was cornered by boys, Ethan and Ryan both got seriously injured protecting me and stayed in the hospital for ages.” Ethan and Ryan smiled along. The three chatted animatedly while only I remained silent. But Vivian suddenly looked at me. “Rosie, why aren’t you talking? Do you have a problem with me?” “I know we had some misunderstandings in college, but now that you’re marrying Ethan, I hope we can become the best of friends.” Vivian raised her wine glass, lips curving as she looked at me. I didn’t move for a long time, nor did I look at her. The next second, I clutched at the fabric on my chest, breathing rapidly and with difficulty. On my arms, large patches of red hives appeared, vivid and alarming. I struggled to reach for my bag. “You’re having an allergic reaction?!” Ethan jumped to his feet, reaching for my bag. I have a severe peanut allergy. Though I’m usually very careful, I always kept an epinephrine pen in my bag in case of accidental ingestion and inability to get timely treatment. In critical moments it could save my life. I’d already gotten the epinephrine pen. Just then, Vivian’s weak voice suddenly sounded. “Ethan… I feel terrible…” Her slender fingers clutched at the fabric on her chest as she fell backward, face pale.

Rosie’s POV “Vivian!” Ryan, sitting beside Vivian, caught her in time. “Ethan, Vivian seems to be having an allergic reaction!” Ethan’s steps toward me halted. His expression darkened instantly. He turned and walked toward me. I’d already lifted my skirt, preparing to inject myself. Suddenly an enormous force gripped my wrist and snatched the epinephrine pen from my hand. I looked up in disbelief into Ethan’s cold eyes. “You caused Vivian’s allergic reaction. Give her the medicine first!” With that, he strode toward Vivian without a moment’s hesitation, swiftly completing the injection for her. Noticing my gaze, Ryan said coolly: “You’re a doctor. You should have other emergency methods. Vivian doesn’t know anything. She needs this pen more.” After injecting, Ethan picked Vivian up and rushed out. Ryan chased after them. “Ethan, I’ll get the car!” I collapsed on the floor, staring intently at their retreating backs. From beginning to end, they never looked back. As consciousness faded, I saw a waiter rush in. “Miss! What’s wrong?!” I was unconscious for a day. When I woke, I saw Ethan sitting by the bed. He grasped my hand, his tone concerned. “Rosie, you’re finally awake. Is there anywhere you still feel unwell?” I pulled my hand away and closed my eyes. Ethan didn’t get angry. He brushed the stray hair from my temples. “Rosie, I know you’re angry with me. But the Grayson and Moore families work closely together. Vivian can’t have an incident in front of us.” “I had no choice. You’re about to be my wife. We’re a community of shared interests. You should understand.” “Rosie, you know I love you most, don’t you?” Ryan appeared at the hospital room door. “That’s right. My brother had no choice. Big families have their difficulties. We all have to prioritize the bigger picture.””As family, we can only ask you to be patient for now.” My hands clenched tightly under the blanket as I looked at the two men, laughing coldly inside. To deceive me, they’d really gone to great lengths. I didn’t want to get entangled. I closed my eyes again. “I want to rest.” Only after the sound of their footsteps faded did I open my eyes and take out my phone to make a call. “Hello, is this the streaming company? I’d like to book a service…” After hanging up, I instinctively reached for the pendant at my chest, but grasped at nothing. The pendant containing Grandma’s hair and ashes was gone! I panicked instantly, getting up to search around the hospital bed. Just as I was about to go ask the nurse, my phone buzzed with a message. Vivian had sent a photo. It was my pendant necklace! “If you want the necklace back, come now. Otherwise I’ll flush what’s inside down the toilet.” Overwhelming rage made my vision go black. I rushed toward Vivian’s hospital room. Inside, Vivian stood by the window, the necklace dangling from her fingertips, swaying outside the window ledge, ready to drop at any moment. “Vivian, give me back my necklace!” A malicious smile played at Vivian’s lips. “Rosie, you saw my Instagram posts, didn’t you? Tsk tsk. I thought you were so high and mighty. Back then you practically wanted me dead. Now, to marry into the Grayson family, you can tolerate anything.” I only stared intently at the necklace in her hand, nails digging into my palms. “Give me back my necklace!” Vivian moved the necklace a few more inches outward. “If you want the necklace, then kneel and apologize to me. Admit you’re a bitch. Admit you’re fake and pretentious.” “Impossible!”

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I tamed my wild self for Ethan Shaw, enduring three years in silence just for his love. Then I overheard him confessing to his friends. “Vivian’s so dull now. I miss the old her.” He even gave my mother’s heirloom to Fiona, who humiliated me, and let her smash it to pieces. In a fire, he abandoned me to save her. I died inside, took my trust fund, and left for Zurich. When he chased me to Zurich begging for another chance, he didn’t know I’d already placed my engagement ring on someone else’s finger. He held the shattered bracelet and said “I love you.” I just smiled and took my fiancé’s arm. “Sorry, I don’t pick up trash.” Vivian POV I was once the most spoiled heiress in this city. In the Hayes family’s heyday, our hillside mansion hosted parties every night, and our yacht gatherings lit up half the city’s sky. I lived boldly and freely, driving limited edition supercars, bidding against rivals at auctions for paintings. All with the bright, unpolished pride of someone who’d never been broken. Then I turned twenty four, and the Hayes empire collapsed without warning. The funding chain broke, auditors moved in, my father jumped from the top floor of the corporate building, and my mother’s heart gave out before they could save her. The people who once fawned over me instantly showed their true faces. Overnight, I fell from the highest heights to the lowest depths. I rented a room in a noisy old building and witnessed the full spectrum of human coldness. Just when I was pushed to the edge, my longtime rival Ethan Shaw found me. He reached out his hand, his eyes reddening. “Come with me. From now on, I’ll protect you.” We used to compete openly and secretly, never yielding to each other. Everyone’s favorite topic of gossip. I never expected that when I hit rock bottom, the first person to extend a hand would be him. After that, everyone said I was lucky. First my parents treasured me like a jewel, and even after losing everything, I still had someone like Ethan protecting me. So for him, I began to rein in my bold, arrogant personality, dulled all my sharp edges, became gentle, obedient, and considerate, loving him with my whole heart. But the Shaw family always thought I was too unruly. They made me go to church every month to pray for Ethan, staying there all day until my legs went numb and nearly lost all feeling. This routine continued for three whole years. This time, Ethan’s mother’s attitude finally softened. “Alright, after you finish praying today, you won’t need to come next month.” My heart pounded. “You mean…” “You’ve been well-behaved these three years. Rain or shine, you’ve never missed coming to pray for Ethan. I can see you truly care for him.” Mrs. Shaw said coolly, “At the next family dinner, have Ethan bring you along. We’ll discuss your wedding together.” So, does this mean the Shaw family has accepted me? A wave of bittersweet joy surged through me. I cried tears of happiness, eager to share this good news with Ethan. Learning he was still at the office, I hailed a cab and rushed over. Before I even reached his office, I heard Ethan laughing with a few of his childhood friends. My lips curved into a smile. I was about to push the door open when I caught the content of their teasing and froze. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Ethan! You actually managed to tame the wild Miss Hayes. Made her so docile. Who would’ve believed Vivian Hayes could be as obedient as a kitten?” “That’s because Ethan deliberately competed with Vivian for everything back then to get her attention. But after the Hayes family went bankrupt, instead of turning his back on her like everyone else, he took her in. How could Vivian not fall for him?” “But seriously, Vivian has really changed for you these past three years. I heard even your notoriously difficult mother has warmed up to her. At this rate, you two should be getting married soon, right?” After the question, there was silence for a few seconds before Ethan’s hesitant voice came through. “About marriage… we’ll see.” “What, you’re having second thoughts? Don’t want Vivian anymore?” “It’s not that. I still love her, but…” Ethan paused, his tone complicated. “She’s become a bit too docile, too… boring now.” “Boring?” “Now she cooks for me and hides her burned hands so I won’t notice. My mom deliberately tests her patience, and even when her knees get injured from standing too long, she never complains to me.” I stood frozen. To spare him guilt and heartache, I’d never shown him those repeatedly burned hands or injured knees. I’d never uttered a single complaint. I thought I’d hidden it all so well. But in reality, he knew everything? “Isn’t that good though? She does all this for you. It shows she’s completely devoted to you.” “I know she does it all for me.” Ethan frowned. “But the old Vivian would’ve turned the entire Shaw family upside down. She never would’ve accepted this kind of treatment.” I heard Ethan say slowly, “Compared to who she is now, I loved the old her better. Vibrant and eye catching, bold and radiant. Now she’s so quiet and obedient that I find her…boring.” As those words fell, not only did the people in the office freeze, but my blood seemed to freeze too. Boring. He knew I’d changed my bold, spoiled nature and endured all the humiliation for him. But he said this version of me made him feel… bored? “I heard you’ve been getting pretty close to that Fiona girl these past two months?” Ethan neither confirmed nor denied it, but his voice held a hint of interest. “Fiona’s quite… interesting. At the horse track, she dared to bet recklessly against me to win first place. For a Monet painting, she fought me tooth and nail. Watching her reminds me of the old Vivian.” “Vivian can’t stand even a grain of sand in her eye. If you get too close to another woman, watch out. She might dump you in anger.” “She won’t.” Ethan said with confident certainty, “She knows she’s not the Miss Hayes she used to be. She has nothing left except me. Without me, she’d be even less than nothing.” Just then, Ethan’s phone rang. “Gotta go. Fiona invited me sailing tonight. It’s about time.” I heard chairs scraping inside. I instinctively stepped back, quickly hiding in the shadows around the corner. I watched Ethan walk out of the office with one hand in his pocket, hurrying along while answering his phone, his tone holding an interest and pleasure I hadn’t heard in a long time. “Got it, Miss Fiona. I’ll be right there. I promise you’ll have a great time tonight.”

Vivian POV I don’t know how I left. When I came to my senses, I was standing by the shore. Not far away, on the deck of a speedboat at the harbor, stood two familiar, striking figures. The woman wore a fire-red halter dress, her arms intimately wrapped around the man’s neck, practically hanging off him. The man stood tall with sharp features, wearing a dark shirt, one hand loosely around her waist as he looked down, teasing her about something. That man. Who else could it be but Ethan? And the woman in the red dress in his arms… Even from a distance, I could never mistake her. It was Fiona. I stood there frozen, my mind drifting back to three years ago when I was forced to move into that old building. Fiona had brought several socialites to find me and pressed me hard against the filthy ground. Fiona crouched beside me, slapping my face until it swelled red, saying with smug superiority, “Vivian Hayes, bet you never saw this coming. Now it’s your turn to fall.” “In the past, you were so high and mighty. No matter how much I flattered and fawned over you, you looked down on me and gave me attitude. Did you ever think you’d have a day when I’d be stepping on you?” “Looking at you now really makes me feel good.” That was when Ethan found me. Seeing me humiliated by Fiona and the others, his eyes looked murderous, as if he wanted to tear them apart. After driving Fiona and her group away, he pulled me up and held me tight, saying over and over, “I’m sorry. I came too late.” My phone suddenly buzzed with a message notification, interrupting my memories. I took it out. On the screen was a message from Ethan: “Vivian, I have an important business dinner tonight with some overseas clients. Don’t wait up. Get some rest.” I stared at those words, then looked up toward the speedboat. Ethan tossed his phone onto the cushions beside him, then lowered his head and kissed Fiona as she tilted her face up. The scene pierced my chest like a sharp blade. Three years ago, after Ethan drove Fiona away and took me from that old building, I saw him as my salvation, the only plank of wood to cling to while drowning. But now, that plank had grown thorns, tearing me bloody. The hand that once pulled me from the mire was now personally pushing me into an even deeper abyss. Why, Ethan? Why did your affair have to be with Fiona, of all people? After returning to the Bayshore villa, I found a baseball bat and, filled with rage and pain, destroyed the entire living room. The next day when Ethan came home, this was the scene that greeted him. All the vases were shattered into countless pieces, lamps toppled over, cups, plates, fruit bowls, magazines, and flowers scattered across the floor. The entire living room had become a wasteland overnight, so chaotic there was barely room to step. And I lay motionless on the couch in the ruins. Ethan didn’t know what had happened. “Vivian?” Thinking something had happened to me, he rushed over anxiously and worried. I was startled awake. My lashes fluttered as I slowly opened my eyes. “You’re home.” Seeing me open my eyes and wake up, Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. “What happened?” He helped me sit up, crouching in front of me, puzzled. “Why does the house look like this? Did someone break in?” “No.” I said flatly, “I smashed it.” Ethan looked stunned. “…You?” I didn’t answer. My eyes rested on his handsome face. “Why are you only coming home now?” Guilt flashed through his eyes. Ethan tugged at his tie and said, “I drank too much with clients last night, so I crashed at a nearby hotel.” I looked at him and smiled. “Is that so?”

Vivian POV Ethan shifted uncomfortably under my gaze. He took my hand and frowned. “Vivian, what’s wrong with you?” “Let me ask you.” I looked directly into his eyes, not missing any emotion in them. “Were you really at a business dinner with clients last night?” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “What are you implying? You don’t trust me?” I didn’t reveal that I’d seen everything last night. Instead, I said, “I want to trust you, but your assistant said you didn’t have any business dinner last night.” I wanted to give him a chance to confess voluntarily and show remorse. But instead, Ethan’s face darkened instantly. “You went behind my back to ask my assistant about my schedule?” His displeasure stunned me. “Vivian Hayes, we’re not married yet.” His tone carried obvious anger. “You have no right to check my work schedule with my assistant!” Those words drove into my heart like an ice pick. In the three years we’d been together, Ethan had never shown me any displeasure, much less said such hurtful things. My breathing hitched. I dug my fingernails into my palms to steady my trembling voice. “That’s because you lied to me first.” “What did I lie to you about?” Ethan stood up, looking down at me from above. “I did have a business dinner last night. My assistant just didn’t know about it.” “Really? Then who were you dining with?” Ethan pressed his lips into a hard line, his gaze even angrier and darker. Before he could speak, I answered for him. “It was Fiona, wasn’t it?” “How do you know?” Ethan looked stunned and surprised for two seconds, then grew angry at being caught. “Did you have someone follow me?” I pulled my lips into a bitter smile. He continued, “Yes, I was with Fiona last night. But that’s because the Parker family has a project they want to collaborate with us on. She’s the person in charge from their side. There were details we needed to finalize in person, that’s all!” “But you know what she did when I was at my lowest three years ago, how she brought people to humiliate me. And now you’re getting involved with her?” Even if he had fallen for someone else, why did it have to be her? He could like anyone. Why did it have to be the woman who once stepped on me? My eyes gradually reddened. I curved my lips in mockery. “Or have you already forgotten what she did to me three years ago?” Ethan froze for two seconds, looking somewhat uncomfortable and awkward. “What she did three years ago was wrong, but it’s been so long. If I refused to work with the Parker family because of that conflict, my parents would be furious when they found out. They’d accuse us of mixing personal feelings with business.” He paused, then added, “Besides, everyone has a time when they’re young and foolish. Fiona has changed. She’s not like she was three years ago.” Hearing him finish, I could hardly believe my ears. I remembered after he took me in, there was once a man who had business dealings with the Shaw family company. At a banquet, he got handsy with me and made lewd comments, telling me to be with him. That man had his hand chopped off by Ethan in public. Back then, Ethan hadn’t worried about being accused of mixing personal with professional. Looking at this man making excuses with his parents and even defending Fiona, I felt like I was meeting him for the first time. “Besides, my relationship with her is purely professional. Nothing more.” Ethan looked at me, his features colder and more displeased. “Vivian, why are you being so paranoid now? Can’t you learn from those sensible, generous wives and not be suspicious about everything?” Learn from those sensible, generous wives. Be more understanding. I suddenly wanted to laugh, but my throat was too choked to make a sound. I looked at the collar of his shirt. I could clearly see, near his collarbone, an intimate hickey mark, faint but visible. That mark was vivid and glaring, like a silent mockery. A chill spread from deep in my heart to all my limbs. My heart twisted so painfully I could barely breathe. I thought again of every word he’d said in that office. So this was the result of abandoning my pride, smoothing my edges, and begging for three years. But Ethan, did you really think I couldn’t live without you?

Vivian POV I looked at Ethan. After a moment, I nodded. “Fine.” With that, I stood up and walked past him and the mess on the floor toward the stairs without another word. “Vivian…” He instinctively moved to follow. Just then, his phone rang in his pocket. Ethan paused, pulling out his phone. He frowned, staring at the caller ID, then looked up toward the stairs. After two seconds of hesitation, he answered the call. “Hello?” On the other end, Fiona’s soft, slightly petulant voice came through. “Mr. Shaw, why’d you leave in such a hurry? You forgot your watch at my place. Should I bring it to you?” Ethan froze, looking at his bare wrist, his brow furrowing. “No need. I’ll come get it myself.” Upstairs in the master bedroom. I watched him leave and let out a cold laugh. I closed the door, walked to the bedside, and opened the hidden safe embedded in the wall, taking out what was inside. Ethan knew about this safe and knew the password was my birthday. But he thought it only contained my documents and some of my parents’ belongings, so he never asked about it and never opened it. What he didn’t know was that besides those items, the safe also held an overseas trust fund agreement. This was a trust fund my parents had set up for me abroad before they died. Even when the Hayes family went bankrupt three years ago, this asset wasn’t affected by the liquidation. This was the safety net my parents left me. I held that agreement, my mind replaying my mother’s earnest words before she passed. “Vivian, remember this: no matter how much you love someone in the future, never give yourself completely… The human heart is the most unreliable thing, especially a man’s heart. Sooner or later, it will always change.” I used to think loving someone meant giving everything without reservation. Only today did I understand. Mother was right. I squeezed my eyes shut hard, pushing all my thoughts and rising bitterness back down into my heart. Perhaps it was time for me to leave. When I came downstairs again, the living room had been completely restored. The maids Ethan arranged were cleaning, and new vases and furniture were being brought in piece by piece, but he himself was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t ask the maids anything and left the villa directly. “Hello, I’d like to process immigration paperwork.” At the immigration office, I submitted all my documents. After processing everything, the staff member said, “Your application has been submitted. You’ll be notified of the results within twenty business days.” “Thank you.” After leaving the immigration office building, it was already dark. The streets were lit with colorful neon lights. I had no desire to return to Bayshore, so I took out my phone and called a few old friends. They were incredulous when they received my call. “Vivian?” “It’s me.” I curved my lips slightly. “Call the gang together. My treat. Let’s all cut loose tonight.” “Wow, is the sun rising in the west? Ever since you got together with Ethan, you said you wanted to be a good woman and never go out partying again, didn’t you?” “Cut the crap. See you at the usual place.” I had only dulled all my edges for Ethan, learning to be dignified, learning to be docile, learning to be submissive, becoming what the Shaw family expected. And yet he said I was boring and went chasing after another vibrant, bold shadow. Now that I’d decided to give up on him, there was no need to please anyone for his sake anymore. Two hours later, in a VIP room at the club. Just as the atmosphere in the room reached its peak. BANG. The door was kicked open from outside. The room instantly fell silent. Everyone looked toward the door in shock. “E-Ethan?” There stood Ethan’s tall figure, his handsome face so dark it could drip water. His gaze swept the room and finally locked onto me, surrounded by several male models. His eyes looked murderous. “Vivian Hayes, you actually dare come here looking for men? What the hell are you doing?”

Vivian POV Before anyone could react, Ethan strode into the room with a chilling aura and yanked me up from among the male models. I glared at him furiously. “What are you doing? Let go!” Ethan ignored me, his gaze sweeping over everyone in the room. “All of you, get out.” His tone was cold and commanding, brooking no argument. No one dared say a word. They scrambled out of the room. In seconds, only the two of us remained. I angrily shook off his hand. “Ethan, what do you want?” Ethan looked down at me, suddenly pulling his lips into a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. “What do I want?” He repeated, “Because you’re upset about my business with the Parker family, you dare come to a place like this looking for male models? Vivian Hayes, where did all that obedience and propriety you learned over three years go?” I was fine until he brought it up. Mentioning it made a fire surge up from my heart, burning through all my organs. I laughed coldly, looking him straight in the eye and throwing his own words back at him. “Ethan, we’re not married yet. I can do whatever I want. You have no right to control me.” Those words completely ignited Ethan’s suppressed fury. “I have no right?” He laughed in anger, suddenly pressing me into the wide leather couch behind me. I was caught off guard, my back hitting the soft leather. Before I could react, his body was already bearing down on me, trapping me firmly between the couch and his chest. “What are you doing?” I struggled violently, pushing and kicking him with everything I had. “Get off me!” Ethan easily restrained my flailing hands with one hand, pinning them above my head. “Looks like I’ve been too busy lately and haven’t satisfied you properly, which is why you got the idea to go looking for other men.” “You bastard! Let go!” My angry curses were silenced by his lips. The kiss was punishing, brutal, with no tenderness whatsoever. I desperately turned my head to dodge, but he gripped my jaw firmly with his other hand, immobilizing me. In the chaos, I heard the crisp sound of a metal buckle being undone. My pupils contracted sharply as an ominous premonition rose in my heart. “Ethan, you wouldn’t dare!” “Watch me.” He was breathing hard, his eyes completely red. “Since you don’t remember the rules, I’ll remind you right now what happens when you go looking for other men.” Before he finished speaking, he pressed down hard. I instantly tensed my entire body, every sound stuck in my throat, the pain making my vision go black. Pure possession and punishment. I felt utterly humiliated. “Bastard… you bastard! Ethan, let me go! I’ll kill you!” With my limbs pinned down, I cried out, tears rolling down uncontrollably. But my struggles and curses only earned me rougher treatment. I don’t know how long it lasted. It felt like an entire century. Finally, it stopped. Ethan leaned down and bit my earlobe. “Remember this feeling. Will you dare again?” I lay limp on the couch, my eyes red and swollen from crying. He reached up to brush the hair from my face, his tone softening slightly. “Vivian, don’t blame me. I just love you too much. Seeing you with other men drives me crazy. So don’t try to provoke me like this again, okay?” I was actually amused by his shameless words. I opened my mouth, about to speak. Just then, panicked shouts came faintly from outside. “Fire! The room next door is on fire!” “Run!” “There’s someone still inside… it’s Miss Parker! Miss Parker is still in there!” The man who had been lying on top of me murmuring sweet words suddenly stiffened. “Vivian, I have an emergency. I need to leave for a bit. Wait here for me. Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back!”

Vivian POV Before he finished speaking, Ethan’s figure had already rushed out. The door was pushed open then slammed shut. I raised my hand to wipe my face, forcibly pushing down all the bitterness and grievance. I tried hard to calm my emotions, telling myself it was just like being bitten. Then, having barely managed to make myself presentable, a burning smell grew stronger and stronger in my nostrils. Realizing something, my face changed drastically. I jerked my head up. Thick smoke was seeping continuously under the door. My heart tightened. I could no longer care about my body’s pain and stumbled toward the door, yanking it open. But the scene outside made my face go white with terror. The hallway was already a sea of flames. Heat waves and thick black smoke hit me in the face, making me cough violently and tears stream down. “Cough cough… help! Is anyone there… cough cough cough!” I covered my nose and mouth, calling for help. Through the rolling smoke and flames, I caught sight of a familiar tall figure at the end of the hallway. Like grasping at a lifeline, I instinctively called out to that retreating back. “Ethan… Ethan! Save…” Before I could finish, I saw more clearly. He was carrying a woman in his arms. That woman. Who else could it be but Fiona? And Ethan, holding Fiona, disappeared at the end of the hallway through the flames and smoke without looking back. I froze, suddenly feeling cold from head to toe. I could hardly believe that the man who had just been on top of me taking everything he wanted was now carrying another woman away, forgetting me completely. This was what he called loving me too much? How ironic. How laughable. I wanted to laugh but couldn’t make a sound. The instinct to survive took over everything else. I couldn’t die here. Absolutely not! I quickly reacted, turned back to find a blanket, soaked it in water and wrapped it around myself. But just as I was about to rush out the door, a burning beam crashed down, hitting me square in the back. I stumbled and fell to the ground. I’d inhaled too much smoke through my nose and mouth, and my consciousness gradually blurred until my vision went completely black. I don’t know how long passed before I opened my eyes again to hear a nurse asking, “You’re awake? How do you feel? Any dizziness or nausea?” My throat was terribly hoarse. “Water…” The nurse quickly poured a cup of warm water and carefully helped me drink a few sips. The warm water soothed my dry, painful throat, easing the discomfort slightly. Just then, my phone on the bedside table rang. I looked at the caller ID, my expression completely blank, picked up the phone, and answered, bringing it to my ear. “Vivian Hayes!” On the other end, Ethan’s angry voice demanded, “Where did you run off to? Why haven’t you come home all night?” I pulled my lips into a faint smile, my voice hoarse. “If I had died in last night’s fire, you probably wouldn’t have known. Whether I come home or not probably doesn’t matter to you anyway, does it?” Ethan paused for two seconds. “What do you mean by that?” I didn’t want to answer him anymore. I simply hung up. Then I looked up at the nurse. “I want to process my discharge.” “Uh, in your condition, it’s better to stay for observation for two more days…” “I’m fine now.” I shook my head, my attitude firm. “Please help me with the paperwork. Thank you.” Ever since my parents died, I’d been especially averse to hospitals because places like this brought back too many painful memories. Besides, my injuries weren’t particularly severe. There was no need to stay hospitalized. The nurse had no choice but to process my discharge. Walking out of the hospital entrance, I was about to hail a cab when a familiar black car screeched to a stop in front of me. Ethan pushed open the car door and pulled me into his arms. His remorseful, guilty voice filled my ear. “Vivian, I’m sorry. I had an emergency last night and had to leave. I only just found out you were trapped in that fire and were rescued by a passerby and sent to the hospital.” Smelling the unfamiliar perfume on him, the scene of him carrying Fiona out of the fire flashed through my mind again. Nausea and coldness rose from the pit of my stomach. “Don’t come near me!” I pushed him away. Ethan looked taken aback, frowning at me. “Vivian, are you mad at me?” I was about to speak.”Stop being angry. Last night was my fault. Let me make it up to you, okay?” He spoke first, trying to placate me. “Didn’t you say you haven’t been horseback riding in a while? Tomorrow I’ll cancel all my work and take you to the stables, okay?”

Vivian POV I thought his words were just empty appeasement, but unexpectedly, the next day Ethan actually cancelled his work, dragged me out, and brought me to the stables. When I walked out of the changing room in riding attire, Ethan was already waiting at the door. He wore a black riding outfit, his posture straight and tall. Seeing me come out, he smiled and was about to step forward to take my hand when an ill-timed female voice rang out. “What a coincidence, Mr. Shaw. You’re here riding too?” Fiona, dressed in red riding attire with her hair pulled high and makeup impeccable, walked toward us. Ethan’s brow furrowed slightly. He instinctively looked at me. When I said nothing, he turned to Fiona. “What are you doing here?” Fiona raised an eyebrow, her red lips curving. “The stables aren’t owned by your family. If you can come here, why can’t I?” Ethan was rendered speechless. He turned to look at me, his tone softening. “Vivian, I know you don’t like her, but the Parker family has an important project in negotiation with us right now. Try not to make a fuss, okay?” I said coolly, “She’s right. The stables aren’t owned by my family. If she wants to come, I have no right to stop her.” Hearing this, Ethan took it as my agreement and didn’t give it another thought. Staff members led over two gentle thoroughbreds. We each mounted and walked along the edge of the track. Just then, the sound of hoofbeats approached from far to near. Fiona rode up on a jet-black stallion, reining in beside Ethan, its tail swishing high. Her face wore a challenging smile. “Ethan, dare to race me? Same rules as always. Loser buys dinner tonight.” That competitive spirit in Ethan instantly ignited. “Why would I be afraid?” He turned to look at me, his tone casual. “Vivian, ride a couple laps by yourself. I’ll race Fiona.” With that, not waiting for my response, he spurred his horse and shot forward. Fiona laughed playfully and urged her horse to follow. The two horses chased each other, one ahead and one behind, on the track. That competitive spirit reminded me of years ago, when Ethan and I were this city’s most notorious rivals. We chased each other just like this, neither giving an inch. Back then, Ethan’s eyes were full of competitive desire, and an intense interest in my bold, radiant demeanor. A desire to conquer. And now, he showed that same interest toward another woman. I suddenly found it all pointless. I rode alone for less than two laps before dismounting, handing the reins to a staff member, and walking to sit under a parasol in the rest area. A server brought lemon water. I’d just taken a sip when a figure in red sat down across from me. “Why is Miss Hayes sitting here all alone?” Fiona looked at me with a smile. “Don’t tell me Ethan ditched you and you’re upset?” I set down my glass and said nothing. Fiona didn’t care. She continued on her own. “Thinking back to how glorious you used to be, Miss Hayes. Who in this city didn’t have to watch your moods? I tried so many times to get close to you, but you wouldn’t even give me a proper glance.” She paused, leaning forward, her eyes filled with undisguised malice. “But what about now? You’re not even worthy of carrying my shoes. You can’t even hold onto your own man. How pathetic. But then again, men all love novelty.” My fingers tightened slightly around the glass. I looked up at her. “Are you done?” Fiona laughed smugly. “You probably don’t know this yet, but Ethan told me that compared to you, I’m the one who makes his heart race now.” I suddenly smiled. “Fiona, do you like relying on imitating others to pick up their leftovers?” Fiona’s expression changed. “What do you mean?” “I remember you weren’t always like this. Not your personality or how you dress.” I smiled but not quite. “You used to never catch Ethan’s eye. Only by imitating the old me did you finally attract his attention. Truly befitting of your lowly origins. Always so unable to rise to the occasion.” “You!” Fiona shot to her feet, humiliation and rage surging in her eyes at being hit where it hurt. “Vivian Hayes! You bitch!” She raised her hand to slap me hard across the face. My eyes turned cold, my movements faster than hers. I caught Fiona’s wrist, used the momentum to stand, and delivered a resounding slap with my other hand. Fiona’s head snapped to the side, a clear handprint quickly appearing on her face. “Vivian Hayes!” An angry shout came from nearby. Ethan had obviously seen what just happened. He strode over, grabbed my arm, and yanked me away. “What are you doing?!” His grip was so strong I stumbled back several steps, then twisted my ankle. Sharp pain shot through it. I sucked in a breath, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead from the pain. But Ethan didn’t even look at me. He walked to Fiona, looked at her swollen cheek, anger flaring up instantly. “Vivian Hayes, have you lost your mind? If you have something to say, can’t you talk it out? Why did you have to hit her?” I was about to explain when Ethan turned to Fiona again. “Come on, I’ll take you to get some ice for your face.” Then he supported Fiona as they left. From beginning to end, he never looked back at me once, never asked if I was okay. I stood alone, waves of pain radiating from my ankle, yet it couldn’t compare to the pain in my heart. I thought I’d already given up on this man, that my heart would hold no more expectations for him. But when he openly protected another woman, my heart still felt like it was being stabbed with needles. Fine. I thought, the more he cares about another woman, the less regret I’ll have when I leave.

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My best friend Thea went missing during an undercover operation abroad. I submitted a request to the organization to go in as her backup. When I found her, she was being tortured at a reservoir, barely recognizable. But thankfully, she hadn’t cracked—hadn’t exposed her identity. She’d survived. Over the next few years, the two of us became mistresses to two leaders of the criminal organization. We coordinated seamlessly, working our way closer to the core. Finally, on Thea’s 29th birthday, we took them all down and completed the mission! Looking at the ticket home in my hands, I broke down crying right there, unable to control myself. “Thea, this nightmare is finally over. We can go home!” I was about to take out the birthday present I’d prepared for her when Thea suddenly sighed. “Yeah, we haven’t been back in so long. I wonder if that persimmon tree at home is still there.” Her expression was wistful, but I stared at her in shock, my heart suddenly gripped with fear. Both our parents had been killed by drug dealers. Before we even entered the police academy, we knew we’d one day have to face these criminals head-on. Thea had pointed at that persimmon tree and made a pact with me: “Our parents’ ashes are buried beneath it. It’s not a persimmon tree—it’s a Tree of Vengeance. If one of us ever gets compromised, we’ll find a way to send out the code word ‘persimmon tree.’” “It means: I’ve been exposed. Don’t believe a single word I say.” Now, when she was clearly safe, she’d just said those words right in front of me. She absolutely wasn’t my Thea! So where was my real Thea? Who was this person I’d been working with undercover for years, licking blood off knife-edges, fighting with nothing but conviction and our lives on the line?

Sensing something was wrong, Thea tensed up and grabbed both my arms. “What’s wrong, Hernandez?” “Has all the stress been too much? Is that old condition you recovered from flaring up again?” Seeing the genuine concern in her eyes, I relaxed slightly. My parents and Thea’s parents had been colleagues. Years ago, during a mission, they were brutally murdered by drug dealers. After that, I couldn’t sleep for years and developed severe mental illness. Fortunately, I still had Thea to rely on. With her help, I gradually recovered. Only Thea knew about this. And I’d already carved Thea’s appearance into my mind. The person before me looked identical to my Thea—even the beauty mark by her mouth was exactly the same shape. I figured she must have been so excited about completing the mission that she’d momentarily forgotten our pact. I tested her carefully. “I’m fine. It’s just when you suddenly mentioned that tree at home, I felt guilty.” “During the time you were missing, someone broke into our house for revenge and set it on fire. I was too busy preparing for my undercover work and didn’t notice in time. That tree burned down.” Her eyes went wide. “Burned down? But our parents’ ashes were buried under that tree! Hernandez, did you at least save the ashes?” The matter of the ashes was even more private. Besides Thea and me, not a single other person in the world knew about it. I finally felt completely reassured. I was about to admit I’d been testing her when Thea rubbed her reddened eyes. “I’ll never get to eat the fruit from that persimmon tree again.” “But Hernandez, don’t feel guilty. We destroyed the drug trafficking syndicate and avenged our parents. Their spirits will only feel comforted.” The next second, the words I was about to speak lodged in my throat like a stone! She’d said “persimmon tree” again! If she’d simply forgotten our pact earlier, surely she’d have remembered by now. This was a pact she herself had spoken on the day before we entered the police academy. She’d called the persimmon tree the Tree of Vengeance to remind herself never to forget the hatred of our parents’ murder. No matter how hard, how difficult, how frightening—she had to stay firm in her conviction to fight the drug dealers. We’d branded the “Tree of Vengeance” into our very souls! “Yeah, Thea, they’ll definitely be comforted.” “We got our revenge and completed the mission. That’s the best birthday present for you.” I calmly stepped back from her and took out the gift I’d prepared—a snow globe with six cartoon figures inside, four adults and two children, depicting a scene from my childhood memories of our two families having dinner together. Then suddenly, I “accidentally” dropped the gift on the ground. It shattered. “Oh—” I cried out, “Sorry, Thea! I’ll get you another one!” She said it was fine, told me to just get her a replacement after we got home. I insisted on staying to replace it, saying it would already be the next day by the time we landed. I needed to find her on Thea’s actual birthday, whether she was dead or alive.

The custom snow globe would take time to make, so Thea took me to an arcade. She knew what I liked to do to relax, and even knew which games I was good at and which characters I preferred. She bought me ice cream, thoughtfully removing the chocolate coating just like she used to, then gathering the crumbs together and eating them all at once with her eyes closed in bliss. Aside from the “persimmon tree,” I couldn’t detect anything unusual about her. “Hernandez, the last time I celebrated my birthday with you was five years ago, wasn’t it?” During dinner, before I could even probe, Thea brought up the past on her own. “I secretly applied for the undercover operation without telling you. When you found out, you knocked the cake over and cried and yelled at me.” “Do you remember? I stayed up all night trying to comfort you.” She looked at me with a smile, her eyes full of reminiscence. I remembered. We’d agreed that I would be the one to go undercover. Thea had agreed verbally, but then behind my back she’d fought for the assignment. She’d wanted to sacrifice herself to protect me. In front of me, she was always the image of a strong, optimistic, responsible big sister. But was that real Thea still there? Was she still alive? I dug my nails into my palm and went along with her words. “Of course I remember. We’re police officers, but you coaxed me like I was a child.” “I was so frantic I wanted to call Director Alexander and beg him to give me the mission instead. What did you do?” She laughed even harder. “I confiscated your phone and locked you in your room. By the time you got out, I was already on the plane heading abroad.” I wanted to laugh along with her, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Director Alexander and several colleagues knew that I’d cried and yelled at Thea on her birthday. But her locking me in the room afterward—that was something she absolutely couldn’t have told anyone else. Yet she’d recounted it with perfect clarity, down to every detail. How did she know all this so clearly? In the silence, Thea suddenly stood up and called out softly: “Before, you were so focused on the mission that I could overlook you not paying attention to your appearance. But now the mission’s complete and you need to think about your future. How can you still be so careless?” As she spoke, Thea pulled out a tissue and wiped away food residue from my mouth. She gently brushed a few strands of my hair behind my ear. Her reproachful tone, the gentle tickle of her fingers brushing my skin—it was all so familiar, so long-missed. It made me doubt myself again. Was I just being paranoid? Just then, the final dessert arrived at our table—persimmon cake. I’d ordered it on purpose. I stared intently at her reaction. I saw her freeze for a moment, then suddenly her eyes reddened. “My parents’ favorite fruit was persimmon.” “Hernandez, if that persimmon tree at home were still there, do you think in the afterlife they could eat the persimmons that fall to the ground?” The warmth I’d been feeling instantly vanished. I snapped back to clarity. She’d mentioned the persimmon tree again. She absolutely couldn’t be the real Thea! I wanted to restrain her immediately, contact my colleagues who were still in the country wrapping things up, and force her to reveal her true identity! But I didn’t dare. If my real Thea was still alive, I was afraid that alerting them would get her killed. I could only force out a smile and stabilize the situation first, then find a way to discover Thea’s whereabouts.

But I couldn’t figure out when she’d started impersonating Thea. Three years ago, Thea went missing. Of the four undercover agents the organization had planted in the drug trafficking syndicate, all died except Thea. At that time, everyone thought Thea must have met with disaster too. Without hesitation, I applied to become the new undercover agent. Three months later, following the organization’s arrangements, I connected with one of the leaders and made contact with the criminal organization. That’s when I saw Thea. She was tied up in a water dungeon. You could tell it was her, but her body was rotting beyond recognition. The leader smiled and told me, “We probably made a mistake. The boss suspected she was a cop, but no cop could last six months with us without talking.” Besides fear, I didn’t dare show any other emotion. In that brief glance, our eyes met for just a moment. She was in terrible pain, but her eyes were bright and resilient. She mouthed the words: “Tree of Vengeance.” In that instant, I nearly broke down in tears. She’d withstood torture we thought no one could endure. I was certain that Thea at that time was still Thea. Later she was released. One of the leaders was a pervert who liked Thea’s scars and kept her by his side. The two of us exchanged information through our unspoken understanding and formulated plans. Not only did she never betray me, she saved my life several times. So the Thea during that period should have been the real Thea too, right? When exactly did she get replaced? I wracked my brain but couldn’t find any leads. “Hernandez, your custom snow globe should be ready soon.” “Let’s book the earliest flight and go home as soon as we pick it up.” The Thea before me suggested going home again, and this time I had no reason to delay. I could only make an excuse about having a stomachache, asking her to wait while I went to the bathroom alone. Then I had my colleagues send me all the communication records between Thea and me during our undercover operation. We’d pretended not to know each other. All our communications used coded symbols, exchanging information under a safe, inconspicuous tree. Now all this information had been preserved. I needed to read it word by word, looking for any trace of inconsistency in phrasing or other details to determine when Thea had been replaced. But I read through it again and again—the Thea outside was getting impatient—and I found nothing unusual. “Hernandez, if your stomach really hurts that bad, I’m going to get you medicine!” “If we delay any longer, we’ll miss tonight’s flight.” Her urging voice came again. A chill ran through me as I suddenly realized an overlooked problem. What was the point of her impersonating Thea?

If she was an imposter who wanted to know about my past with Thea and all those details, she would have to control Thea and extract that information from her. But if she’d already controlled Thea, why would she let the entire criminal organization get taken down? And now, instead of running away, she was actively returning to the country. The security situation there would be exponentially more dangerous for her! “Hey! Do you really not need help? Don’t be like Neves and pass out from dehydration in the bathroom!” She knocked on the door anxiously, sounding worried I might have an accident. I quickly called back, “Almost done.” In that moment, my doubts deepened. If she was an imposter trying to fool me, knowing some things about my past would be enough. Why would she also remember something as trivial as our colleague Neves fainting in the bathroom six years ago? Even under torture, no one would ask about something like that. And besides, Thea could withstand torture. Her conviction would never allow her to bow to drug dealers! I walked out with my doubts. She immediately hugged me and checked my body. I couldn’t detect even a hint of false pretense. Could it be that the long-term pressure and mental torment had caused Thea to forget the “persimmon tree” pact? I couldn’t find any other explanation. This was the only possibility. “Thea, let’s go to the hospital.” “My stomach really hurts—” Before I could finish, Thea scooped me up in her arms. “Waiter, where’s the nearest hospital?” She urgently carried me to a taxi, her eyes red as she said I’d lost weight, that five years ago when I was shot during a drug bust and she rushed me to the hospital, I’d weighed much more than now. I closed my eyes and forced the tears back, unable to say another word. I was starting to believe she really was Thea. I went to the hospital to buy time so my colleagues could take her hair for a DNA test. If she was the real Thea, we’d go home. If she was fake, we’d restrain and interrogate her immediately. Even if it meant alerting them, I had no choice. She was performing perfectly—I couldn’t find a single flaw, and I had no way to discover Thea’s whereabouts. I successfully obtained strands of her hair and passed them to my colleague. The 20 hours waiting for results felt like years, leaving me on edge. “Thea checks out. DNA test results are normal…” The moment I received my colleague’s message, I couldn’t control myself and rushed over to hug Thea tightly. “My symptoms are much better, Thea. Let’s go home!” “Let’s go home!” She was happy too and immediately took out her phone to book tickets. On the way to the airport, we excitedly planned where to go after returning home, deciding to visit all the places we’d wanted to go but couldn’t afford before. This joy felt like going from hell to heaven in an instant. Thea being safe meant everything to me! “Oh, right—” When we reached the airport, Thea seemed to suddenly remember something. “We don’t have any savings, and the bureau’s bonus still needs approval. We don’t really have money to travel everywhere, do we?” “Why don’t we dig up the assets our parents left us first? We agreed that once we avenged them, we could use that money.” My steps suddenly stopped. “What assets?” Thea smiled naturally. “What other assets could there be? Have you forgotten? The ones we buried under the Tree of Vengeance!”

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The night before the school’s coming-of-age ceremony, my girlfriend Rachel brought the class’s scholarship student to find me, immediately demanding that I give my custom-made suit to the scholarship student. She said, “Ulysses comes from a poor family and can’t afford a suit, and you don’t lack one piece of clothing. Oh, and the shoes and watch—you need to give those too.” I laughed in anger. “Just because he’s poor, I have to support him? So when he gets married and has kids, do I have to help with that too?” Ulysses’ face darkened. Rachel flew into a rage, insisting I must have the clothes, watch, and shoes ready by tomorrow, or she’d cancel our engagement. I fell silent, then turned to call my grandfather. The engagement needed to be cancelled, but I would be the one to cancel it first. “You want to cancel the engagement? Why?” Grandfather asked me. “Because we’re not compatible. Rachel and I grew up together, and I thought I understood her well, but I’ve recently discovered I don’t know her as much as I thought.” Grandfather on the other end of the line was silent for a moment, then said, “Alright, let’s arrange a time for both families to have dinner together and clarify the matter of dissolving the engagement.” I agreed and walked into the classroom to study. After evening self-study ended, many classmates were clamoring that tomorrow’s coming-of-age ceremony called for celebrating hard at a bar tonight. The teacher didn’t stop them either! “You all go ahead. Ulysses is in a bad mood, so I’ll keep him company.” My childhood friend Rachel’s single sentence dropped the classroom’s lively atmosphere to freezing point. Everyone looked at me, including the teacher. They all knew Rachel and I had grown up together and were engaged. I looked at Rachel, my eyes involuntarily stinging. Twenty years—she had left an indelible mark on my heart, yet in hers, I apparently couldn’t even compare to Ulysses, whom she’d only known for a year. “Rachel, the atmosphere is so good, don’t be a buzzkill,” a classmate tried to persuade. “And Emmanuel…” “Don’t mention him!” Rachel’s face suddenly turned cold. “If he hadn’t deliberately humiliated Ulysses just now, Ulysses wouldn’t be in a bad mood.” With those words, the few classmates who wanted to speak up didn’t dare say anything more. Ulysses looked at me provocatively and patted Rachel’s hand. “Rachel, you go ahead. I’ll be fine.” After speaking, he deliberately put on a dejected expression. Rachel immediately hugged his arm with heartache. “Don’t say anymore. I’ll stay with you all night.” Hearing this, my face changed drastically. Stay with Ulysses—for the whole night! At this moment, I felt both heartbroken and furious. I wanted to loudly question Rachel about whether she still remembered I was her fiancé, bound to her by engagement. Seeing my poor expression, the surrounding classmates quickly tried to smooth things over. “Rachel’s just joking. How could she stay with Ulysses all night?” “Yeah, everyone in the whole school knows Rachel and you grew up together and are engaged. We’re all waiting to attend your wedding.” “I’ll definitely give you a big gift when the time comes.” Rachel said coolly, “Sorry to disappoint everyone. Our wedding may not happen.” After speaking, she walked away with Ulysses’ arm in hers. After two steps, she turned back to me. “I’ve given you a chance. Whether you can seize it is up to you.” I smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve already made my decision.” Twenty years, and we’d finally become strangers. “That’s too much.” Classmates expressed their indignation on my behalf. “Yeah, she’s engaged to you. How can she say she’ll stay with Ulysses all night?”

“I’ll go pull her back.” I stopped the classmate who wanted to chase after them and smiled. “Forget it.” There’s a saying—people who don’t love you can’t see your existence. If that’s the case, why should I care? “Let’s go. Today’s on me!” At the bar, the atmosphere was lively. Because Ulysses wasn’t there. During previous class group activities, no one had looked down on him for being a scholarship student. They’d taken him everywhere, but he always said inappropriate things. “A plate of fruit costs a hundred dollars? So expensive. You’re all so rich.” “I’m not rich like you guys to buy gifts, so I can only give verbal blessings. Happy birthday.” “My family is poor. I really envy how you throw away clothes when they get a hole in them.” He always disguised himself as the victim, as if we were flaunting our wealth in front of him. Whenever this happened, Rachel would always stand up to defend him. “What are you thinking about? Sing a song and vent all the frustration you’ve been holding inside.” A classmate shoved a microphone into my hand, got up, and ran to select “Endless Love.” This used to be my favorite song, but not anymore. “Change it. ‘Lonely Boy.’” The classmate paused, then silently changed the song. As soon as the intro started, the private room door was flung open. Rachel walked in with Ulysses. Instantly, the lively atmosphere in the room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop. Rachel acted as if she hadn’t noticed, speaking to herself. “Ulysses persuaded me. I thought about it and realized he was right—I really should come. Plus, I think it’s necessary to let you all see him completely transformed.” Rachel smiled broadly. “So, how is it? Isn’t he handsome?” The room remained silent. I looked at Ulysses, dressed in a full suit, wearing a tie, dress pants, and leather shoes, and was the first to applaud. “He really is handsome!” “At least you have good taste!” Rachel was very satisfied with my perceptiveness. “Actually, Ulysses is very handsome. He just didn’t have money to dress up before. Now looking at him, he’s no worse than any of you.” I smiled. Handsome? Although dressed in designer brands, he looked awkward no matter how you looked at him! People with dark hearts can’t project refinement no matter how they dress. Rachel calling him handsome was just beauty in the eye of the beholder. Rachel scanned Ulysses up and down, touching her chin. “Seems like something’s still missing.” She turned to look at me. “Emmanuel, take off your watch and give it to Ulysses. I won’t ask you to give him clothes—just give him a watch. You can’t object to that, right?” I paused and looked down at my wrist. The watch was old, but I’d always worn it and carefully maintained it. Because it was a gift from Rachel’s father. When Rachel’s father had put it on my wrist, he’d said, “This is the Wilson family’s heirloom token. Now I’m entrusting it to you. From now on, Rachel and the Wilson family are in your hands.” After a long silence, I spoke in a hoarse voice. “Are you sure?” “What’s there to be unsure about? It’s just a watch. Or are you saying you can’t even bear to part with a watch?” Rachel’s tone was dissatisfied. She walked over and forcefully removed the watch. The process was rough. I wanted to stop her several times but held back. “Uncle Peter, don’t blame me. This is Rachel’s decision. She thinks Ulysses deserves this watch more than I do.” Looking at Rachel’s face, I thought silently to myself. Rachel hadn’t expected me to remain silent the entire time. She successfully removed the watch and nodded with satisfaction. “Emmanuel, you’ve finally grown up.” With that, she turned and walked back to Ulysses, gently putting the watch on him with a tender expression, being extremely careful as if afraid of hurting Ulysses even slightly.

My heart stabbed with pain, but I forced myself not to look away and continued watching. Because I needed to learn not to care. After putting on the watch, Rachel happily pulled Ulysses to sing. The two interacted frequently. When singing love songs, they made eye contact, their gazes filled with affection. They sat closer and closer. Ulysses’ hand brazenly wrapped around Rachel’s waist, and he turned to give me a provocative and triumphant look. I remained expressionless and downed a large glass of beer. The party continued until eleven o’clock. Rachel had drunk too much and was squinting, leaning against Ulysses, her arms around his neck, asking him to take her home. Ulysses looked at me with a smile on his lips. “Emmanuel, why don’t you take Rachel home instead?” Before I could speak, Rachel waved her right hand drunkenly. “No, I hate him today. I don’t want him to take me home.” “I want to go to your place. I promised to stay with you all night.” “This…” Ulysses feigned panic and quickly said to me, “Emmanuel, Rachel’s drunk. She’s talking nonsense. Please don’t take it to heart.” I said indifferently, “Since she hates me and insists on staying with you, I’ll leave her to you. Whether you take her home or bring her to your place—whatever you want.” With that, I left without looking back, my eyes already red. On the way home, scenes with Rachel flashed through my mind like a slideshow. We’d grown up together. My world was full of her. From kindergarten to college, I’d always protected her, not letting her suffer any harm. When she was bullied and made to cry by older students in elementary school, I went with red eyes to confront them and even got into a fight. In the end, she received an apology, and although I was bruised and battered, I smiled happily. For her birthday every year, I’d ask my parents to buy all the fireworks in the city and the front page of all the newspapers that day to celebrate for her. When I was sixteen, our families discussed our marriage and established the engagement. I was so happy I didn’t sleep all night. I thought I could walk through life with her like this, grow old together. But everything changed after meeting Ulysses. She stopped acting cute with me. Instead, there was more scolding and shouting. I endured it again and again, for no other reason than because I loved her. But did she love me? Before today, I was certain of the answer—she loved me too. But I discovered I was wrong. She didn’t love me that much. Twenty years of feelings—could they really not compare to three years? The facts proved they couldn’t. The next day, I saw Rachel at the classroom door. Her face was somewhat pale, and she seemed unsteady on her feet. Ulysses beside her was carefully supporting her. I paused, then walked past as if nothing had happened. Rachel stopped me. I said coolly, “What is it?” Rachel didn’t dare look at me, keeping her head down. “Um, last night Ulysses took me home. I was so drunk that I fell asleep as soon as I got there and forgot to call you to let you know I was safe.” “Oh!” I nodded. “Anything else?” As if she hadn’t expected such a calm reaction from me, Rachel frowned. “Don’t you believe me?” “No, I just didn’t sleep well last night and I’m a bit tired.” “Take care of yourself. You can’t drink that much like you did last night.” Rachel reminded me, then hesitated before gently hugging me. “Yesterday was my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or said those things to deliberately make you angry. I apologize.” “Oh, and I have a surprise for you at today’s coming-of-age ceremony.” I smiled. “What a coincidence. I also have a surprise for you.” “Really?” Rachel’s eyes lit up. “We really are in sync, thinking the same thing.”

I smiled and walked toward the classroom. Just before entering, I instinctively looked back to see Ulysses with an ugly expression while Rachel hugged his arm, constantly acting cute. Ha! I sneered and walked into the classroom without looking back. The coming-of-age ceremony started on time. All the students’ parents came. Naturally, my family and Rachel’s family came too. The students went on stage one by one, saying words of gratitude to their parents. When it was Rachel’s turn, she thanked her parents as usual, then knelt on one knee facing me, holding a ring in her hand, and loudly said: “Emmanuel, will you marry me?” The whole venue was shocked! Her parents smiled happily. My parents were also smiling. Only Grandfather Andre remained expressionless. I looked at Ulysses again. He was also smiling broadly, extending his middle finger toward me, his eyes provocative. I smiled and, under everyone’s gaze, walked onto the stage step by step. Rachel looked at me expectantly. I was silent for a moment, then reached out to grab the ring from her hand, turned, and threw it forcefully at Ulysses. Then I loudly said: “I won’t marry Rachel, because she and Ulysses are the real pair. Let’s give them our blessings.” After speaking, I was the first to clap. I turned back to look at Rachel, still kneeling on the ground, and said softly: “Surprise. Do you like it?” The whole venue fell into deathly silence. Her parents’ smiles froze on their faces. My parents looked at me in shock. Grandfather gripped his cane tightly. Rachel’s face first went pale, then flushed red. She stood up abruptly and shouted angrily, “Emmanuel, are you crazy?” “I’m not crazy. I just did something you wanted to do but didn’t dare to.” I looked at Rachel, my eyes calm. I used to think I could never leave her, but only after truly letting go did I realize— There’s never been anyone who truly can’t live without someone else. Everyone has parents, friends, and family. We never live for just one person. “What nonsense are you talking about!” Rachel trembled with anger, pointing at me, her eyes brimming with tears. “I abandoned a woman’s modesty and proposed to you in front of the entire school, and this is how you humiliate me in return.” “Emmanuel, how can you face me? How can you face our twenty years together? How can you face my parents?” By the end, she pointed sharply at her parents below the stage, tears falling like broken kite strings. “Dad, Mom, I’ve embarrassed you.” “Rachel!” Rachel’s mother Russell let out a shrill scream and rushed to the stage to hug Rachel. Rachel’s father Peter’s face was iron-blue as he angrily questioned my parents. “This is your good son?” My parents opened their mouths but couldn’t say a word in rebuttal. I spoke, my voice flat. “Uncle Peter, don’t make things difficult for my parents. They don’t know anything.” “Then it’s you!” Russell held Rachel tightly, turning to look at me. The kindness that used to be in her eyes had completely turned to fury. “What has Rachel done to wrong you that you would subject her to such humiliation?” “The engagement was made by both our families together. If you’ve had a change of heart and fallen for someone else, the families could sit down together and cancel the engagement amicably.” “You and Rachel have twenty years of history together. Is this how you treat her? Humiliating her in front of the entire school?” “She’s a girl! Do you want her to die?” The surrounding classmates who didn’t know the truth also pointed fingers at me. “That’s too much.” “Yeah, if you’ve had a change of heart and want to break the engagement, you can talk about it properly. How can you use such an extreme method?” “Rachel is so pitiful to have fallen for someone like this.”

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I had been in a long-distance relationship with my boyfriend for three years. Every night, he’d video call me and stay on until I fell asleep. All my friends envied me for finding such a thoughtful boyfriend. Until I stumbled upon a post online. [Girls, have you ever tried this? Having sex with him while he’s on a video call with his long-distance girlfriend. The thrill is absolutely incredible~] The comments section was full of people cursing her out, but the blogger seemed proud rather than ashamed, continuing to post updates: [Just now his girlfriend rolled over on the video, scared him so much he almost came, but it made me even more excited!] [Every time he gets his girlfriend to fall asleep, he does it with me again. Right now he’s holding me, his “little wildcat”~] The attached photo showed a man in dim lighting, shirtless, his face unclear. When I saw the red mole on that man’s collarbone, my blood ran cold. It was identical to my boyfriend’s. My hands trembling, I enlarged the photo and discovered that on the man’s nightstand was a picture of me.

“Shiven, I had a nightmare.” I picked up my phone and sent a message to Shiven Smith. After hitting send, I stared at the “sleeping” man on my screen. No reaction. His breathing rate didn’t change even slightly. A minute later, the post’s author updated: [That stupid woman just texted saying she had a nightmare.] [LMAO, her boyfriend is plowing me right now, no time to care about her.] [But on the video, he’s definitely sleeping soundly.] [After all, it’s a looped recording.] I looked at the video again and noticed something off. Every fifteen minutes, the curtain in the lower left corner of the frame would blow up slightly. The arc and time interval were perfectly identical—this was a looped video. I rolled over, deliberately making a lot of noise, and coughed twice. The video remained quiet and still. Only that pre-recorded breathing sound echoed in the room. The blogger updated again: [She just rolled over so loudly, scared the hell out of me. Good thing the video didn’t give it away.] I clicked on the blogger’s profile. It was full of lovey-dovey posts spanning half a year. Six months ago, Shiven said he had to attend a closed training program. In reality, he’d taken her to a beach resort. In the photos, he wore swim trunks, back to the camera, with the blogger’s hand resting on his shoulder. Those swim trunks were ones I’d bought him. There was another photo where the blogger wore black lace lingerie, taking a mirror selfie. The caption read: [He gave it to me. Says he loves the sound of this fabric being torn.] That day was my birthday. He’d given me a set of pure cotton pajamas, saying he was worried I’d catch cold. I looked down at the cotton pajamas I was wearing and felt only mockery. So in his eyes, I only deserved to be wrapped in these prim and proper fabrics. I saved all the blogger’s posts, photos, and videos. Even though my hands were shaking badly, my phone gallery filled with hundreds of screenshots, each one piercing my heart. On the video, “Shiven Smith” continued sleeping peacefully, playing the role of the devoted boyfriend. I took a screenshot of the screen. The image showed his fake sleeping face, with a timestamp showing 3 AM in the corner. I kept my eyes open until dawn broke.

At exactly seven o’clock, the screen flickered and the lighting suddenly brightened. Shiven woke up. He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and leaned close to the camera: “Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well? You said you had a nightmare?” His voice was raspy, his eyes drowsy—his acting was impeccable. I looked at his face and forced out a smile: “Yeah, I dreamed you left me and ran off with another woman.” Shiven’s expression froze for a moment, then he showed a doting smile: “Silly girl, dreams are the opposite of reality. How could I leave you? You’re my life.” The doorbell rang at that moment. I walked to the door with my phone. Through the peephole, I saw a package the delivery person had left on the ground. The sender’s field was blank, with only my name written as the recipient. I opened the delivery bag to find an exquisite pink gift box. Opening the lid, inside lay a set of black lace lingerie. The size was S, while I always wore M. A card fell to the ground. Written on it in delicate handwriting was a sentence: “Shiven says you dress too conservatively. He asked me to pick something nice for you. You’re welcome.” I picked up the card and held up the lingerie, shaking it in front of the video camera: “Shiven, is this a surprise you bought me? Why is the size wrong?” The moment Shiven saw the lingerie clearly, his eyes showed panic. But he quickly composed himself, frowning: “Huh? Why would I buy something so disgusting?” “The seller sent the wrong thing? Or maybe some bored person playing a prank.” “Throw it away. It’s filthy.” I tossed the lingerie back in the box and stared into his eyes: “The card says you think I dress too conservatively.” Shiven’s face darkened: “What are you trying to say? You doubt me?” “I work so hard every day, and at night I still stay on video to help you fall asleep.” “Don’t we have even basic trust between us?” “Can you be more mature? Stop being so paranoid all the time. It’s exhausting for me.” He turned it around on me. He was the one being dirty, yet he blamed me for being suspicious. Every time we’d had arguments before, he’d used this tactic, and I’d always apologized guiltily. But this time, looking at his face, I only felt disgusted. “I’m sorry, maybe I’ve been under too much stress lately.” “I just care about you too much…” I lowered my head. Seeing me back down, Shiven’s tone softened: “Good girl, I care about you too! You don’t need that kind of thing—you’re already beautiful. Throw it away!” Just then, a very soft cat’s meow came through the video, coquettish and gentle. Shiven quickly reached to cover the microphone, but it was too late. “You got a cat?” I asked with feigned curiosity. His eyes darted away as he laughed dryly: “No, it’s probably that stray cat from the neighborhood begging for food again.” “I’m going to go shoo the cat away. Gotta hang up now—I need to get to work soon. Love you.” The video ended and the room returned to silence. I opened that post, and sure enough, the blogger had updated: [Couldn’t help but make a sound just now, so thrilling.] [He got so scared his face turned white. Hung up the video and pinned me to the bed as punishment. Bad boy.] Looking at those words, I threw the delivery box into the trash. I requested annual leave from my company and bought a ticket on the next flight to his city. By evening, I was standing downstairs from the apartment he rented. He paid the rent here with my secondary credit card, saying it was to be closer to the office for overtime. Now it seemed more like it was convenient for secret meetings. I put on sunglasses and a face mask, found a window seat at the café across the street, and sat down. My phone vibrated. Shiven sent a message: [Baby, I have to work overtime tonight, might not be able to video call.] [Be good and go to sleep on your own. Don’t overthink things. Once I finish this project, I’ll come see you.] I replied with [Okay, take care of yourself.] My gaze traveled through the floor-to-ceiling window just in time to see Shiven walking out of the apartment building with his arm around a woman. That woman wore the same outfit I’d seen in the post, with his jacket draped over her. The two kissed at the apartment entrance, Shiven’s hand wandering around her waist. I raised my phone and opened video recording mode.

Zooming in, the woman’s face appeared clearly on screen—it was indeed that blogger. She looked younger than in her photos, her eyes carrying a seductive glint. The two got into a taxi. I immediately hailed a car and followed. The car stopped at the entrance of a high-end Western restaurant. I followed them inside and sat in a corner not far from them, my back to their direction. The waiter handed me a menu. I randomly ordered a dessert and turned on my phone’s recording function. Fortunately, there were plants providing cover, so they didn’t notice me. “Baby, when are you finally going to dump that plain Jane?” The woman’s voice was drawn out, full of coquettish whining. Shiven said: “Dump her? Why would I dump her?” “She comes from a clean background. Both her parents are government officials. She’s perfect to bring home as a trophy wife.” “Plus, her credit card has a high limit. All our current expenses are on her dime, aren’t they?” My heart constricted. So in his mind, I was just a suitable trophy and a walking ATM. The woman whined coquettishly: “Aren’t you afraid she’ll find out? She video calls you to check on you every night.” Shiven laughed lightly: “We’ve been doing this so long and she hasn’t found out. Once we’re married and I give her a kid, she’ll be even less likely to notice!” “With that brain of hers, she believes everything I tell her.” “Besides, I installed surveillance cameras at home. I can monitor her anytime.” “All I have to do is play a pre-recorded sleeping video, and she thinks I’m asleep. Stupid as hell.” So it wasn’t just deception, but omnipresent surveillance and calculation. The woman seemed pleased: “But you called her ‘baby’ today. How are you going to make it up to me?” “You name it. Whatever you want.” “I want that bag.” “Done. I’ll swipe her card, tell her it’s a gift for her.” “Then send her another empty box.” The sound of their low laughter and clinking glasses was particularly grating. I took out my phone and sent a message to a competitor who’d always wanted dirt on Shiven Smith: [I have exclusive dirt on Shiven Smith that will absolutely destroy his reputation. Interested?] They replied instantly: [As long as it’s real, name your price. We need solid proof.] I sent them a small portion of the video and audio I’d just recorded. They sent back a handshake emoji: [Deal. We need you to release it at the most critical moment for maximum impact.] I put away my phone and watched the two finish their meal and walk out of the restaurant hand in hand. Shiven took out his phone and sent me a message: [Baby, just finished work. I’m exhausted. What are you doing? Miss me? Are you home?] I replied with a bedroom selfie I’d taken earlier: [Watching shows at home. You worked hard, get some rest.] Almost simultaneously, that woman’s post updated: [His girlfriend is home alone in her empty room.] [We’re having wild sex outside, right here in the restaurant parking lot. So thrilling. He says I’m a sex goddess, says that woman is like a dead fish, completely boring.] How despicable does someone have to be to say such things? To cry over this kind of scum would be degrading myself. I was going to make him taste what it’s like to be reviled by millions. Back at the hotel, I began organizing all the transfer records and chat logs from the past three years. Every expense, every excuse he’d used to ask for money—I annotated them all clearly. I also had a tech friend do a frame rate analysis of that looped sleep video. The evidence kept piling up. I stared at the computer screen, my eyes ice-cold. Shiven suddenly initiated a video call. I steadied my breathing and answered. On screen was that hypocritical face of his, with the apartment wall as the background. “Baby, next week is our three-year anniversary. I have a surprise for you.” He smiled. “The company got me a diamond ring promotion deal. I want to propose to you during the livestream.” “Millions of people will be watching us. I want to make the whole world envy you.” I looked at him, the corner of my mouth curling into a cold smile: “Sounds great. I’ve prepared a big surprise for you too. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

For this proposal, Shiven had been building momentum for a long time. He posted a long essay on social media, recalling every bit of our three years together. Between the lines, he portrayed himself as a devoted and loyal man. The comment section was full of moved netizens, all saying they believed in love again. [OMG, staying so sweet through three years of long-distance! What kind of fairy tale love is this!] [The guy is so handsome and devoted. The girl must have saved the galaxy in her past life!] [Can’t wait for the livestream proposal. You two better be happy!] Reading those sentences, all I felt was cold mockery. If these people knew the truth, how would they react? Shiven sent me the livestream schedule, everything meticulously planned, even my lines were written out. “Baby, you just need to show up looking beautiful and nod yes.” “I’ve arranged everything else—lights, sound system, flowers. It’ll be perfect.” I glanced at the schedule and casually probed: “I want to see how the VCR turned out first. What if it’s not good and I can’t control my expression during the livestream?” On screen, Shiven’s eyes flickered briefly, then he smiled indulgently: “Silly, if you watch it beforehand, there won’t be any surprise. Don’t worry, I pulled several all-nighters editing this. It’ll definitely move you to tears.” He immediately changed the subject. After hanging up the video, I looked at the darkened screen. A surprise? There would definitely be a surprise, but it would be the one I was giving him. Since you won’t give me the account access, I’ll just take it myself. Last time we met, I saw him log into that account. The first few characters were my name’s initials, followed by a string of numbers. I entered the username and typed in that password. [Incorrect password.] I stared at the screen and tried our birthdays and anniversary dates. None worked. I suddenly remembered a post on that mistress’s profile: [He always remembers my birthday. So touching.] I checked the calendar and changed the last four digits to that woman’s birthday. Enter. [Login successful.] Seeing the backend interface load, I couldn’t help but laugh. Shiven Smith, oh Shiven Smith, you really are devoted. The account password starts with my name but ends with your mistress’s birthday. Just like you as a person—wearing human skin on the surface, but rotten to the core inside. After logging in to the backend, I saw that “touching VCR.” It really was well-edited, full of our photos and videos together. I replaced it with another video I’d prepared. The filename was identical, the duration roughly the same, but the content was worlds apart. Once done, I logged out of the account and cleared all access traces. That woman’s post updated again: [I heard he’s going to propose to that stupid woman.] [But it’s just to make money to support me. That diamond ring brand is paying him a huge promotion fee.] [He says after the proposal, he’ll take me to Europe, using that woman’s money.] I looked at the screen, the anger in my heart burning out, leaving only resolve. Since you want to put on a show, I’ll build you a stage. On the day of the proposal, the venue was filled with flowers. A huge screen stood in the center, and onlookers packed the plaza. Shiven wore a crisp white suit, his hair styled to perfection, the very picture of a refined gentleman. In the backstage dressing room, he adjusted his bow tie in front of the mirror, his face wearing a smug smile. I stood in the corner, watching him take out his phone to video call that woman: “Babe, where are you? Hidden well? Make sure you’re not spotted.” “I’m in the second-floor viewing area. Best view in the house. Waiting to watch you perform like a monkey.” Shiven laughed lewdly: “After the proposal, I’ll come find you at the hotel.” “Let you experience what the groom’s really capable of.” His words and actions were all captured by the dressing room camera. The livestream countdown began. Staff came over to tell me to get ready. I smoothed my skirt and put on a perfect smile. Shiven stood center stage, holding a microphone, gazing tenderly toward the entrance: “Today, I’m going to propose to perhaps the woman I’ll love most in this lifetime.” “Three years of long-distance, over a thousand days and nights, we’ve finally made it to today.” Thunderous applause erupted below. Livestream comments flooded the screen, and the viewership shot to the top of the charts. I walked toward him step by step. He knelt on one knee, holding up a diamond ring, his eyes reddening: “Marry me. Let me take care of you for the rest of your life. Will you?” I took the microphone, looked into his eyes, and said softly: “Sure. But before I put on the ring, I’ve also prepared a surprise for you.” “Everyone, please look at the big screen. This is my three-year anniversary gift to you.”

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After my foster younger sister Vivian passed her university entrance exams, our whole family gathered for a celebration dinner. My mother said gratefully to my husband Ethan: “Thank you for helping Vivian get into such a good university.” Ethan smiled: “It was my pleasure.” After dinner ended, Ethan suddenly spoke in the car: “Do you know why I agreed to help Vivian? On her eighteenth birthday, she came to me herself and said that as long as I helped her, she’d be willing to repay me with her body.” My mind went blank. He exhaled a puff of smoke, as if savoring a memory: “Vivian is very obedient in bed. She sounds different from you.” 1 My heart seized. I raised my hand sharply and slapped him across the face. “Ethan, you’re scum!” My voice trembled, tears welling in my eyes. “She’s my sister! How could you do this?” The smile on his face faded slightly, but he didn’t get angry. “Back then, I could still touch you after those thugs had their hands on you. Isn’t she cleaner than you?” “Besides, after your dad died, who’s been paying for everything to keep this family afloat? Don’t I deserve a little compensation?” I stared at him in disbelief. “What did you just say?” In that moment, the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. Eight years ago, I was assaulted. My father, trying to get justice for me, killed the perpetrators’ entire family in a moment of rage. Back then, Ethan was a newly practicing lawyer. Despite all the pressure, he found evidence, questioned inconsistencies, and managed to clear my father of murder charges, allowing him a dignified burial. He was the one person who knew the full truth of what happened, who understood how deeply I’d been hurt… Ethan’s expression remained unchanged as he reached into the back seat, grabbed a plastic bag, and tossed it onto my lap. Inside was a pair of light-colored cotton underwear stained with dark red blood — so glaring I could barely look at it. Ethan’s voice held no warmth: “That day she’d just turned eighteen. It was her first time too. When she went home, she was in so much pain she could barely stand straight. You thought she was having period cramps and even made her hot milk. Remember to wash these clean before returning them to her.” Tears finally spilled down my cheeks. Through gritted teeth, I said word by word: “Ethan, I want a divorce.” He laughed as if he’d heard a joke, then reached out to grip my chin. “Divorce? So the baby in your belly can become a fatherless bastard like you?” My whole body shook. I instinctively touched my stomach. Overwhelmed by emotion, I’d forgotten — I was pregnant. Six weeks… Ethan released me, his tone returning to its usual casual indifference. “If there’s nothing else, go upstairs. Wash up and get some sleep. You have a prenatal checkup tomorrow.” I pushed open the car door and practically fled into the building. In the elevator, I stared at those bloodstained underwear for a long time, nausea churning in my stomach. When I opened the door, Vivian was sitting on the living room sofa. She wore the white dress I’d bought her last year, clutching her phone, her eyes red and swollen. Apparently, Ethan had told her. When she saw the plastic bag in my hand, tears streamed down her face. The next second, she dropped to her knees before me. “I’m sorry, Mia. I was confused…” She collapsed on the floor, shoulders shaking, crying her heart out. I stood frozen, my heart feeling like it was being sliced with knives. “Vivian, haven’t I been good to you?” My voice cracked with tears. “When you were being bullied at the orphanage, I brought you home, bought you new clothes, paid for your education. Why would you steal my husband? Why would you destroy my family?” 2 Vivian finally looked up, her face streaked with tears. “Mia, I know Ethan is your husband. I know this was wrong. But Ethan helped me so much, and I had nothing to repay him with. He said he just wanted to experience something pure once. I was already an adult then, and in a moment of weakness I…” I seemed to have gone numb to the pain in my heart. I simply threw the underwear on the floor. “Pack your things and get out of my house. I never want to see you again.” Vivian froze, murmured an apology, then suddenly rushed to the side. A dull thud — her abdomen slammed hard into the solid wood coffee table. After a piercing scream, Vivian collapsed on the floor clutching her stomach, breaking out in cold sweat. Dark red blood gradually seeped through the hem of her dress. “Vivian!” Terrified, I rushed over to help her. “Mia, I’m sorry. This baby… it’s Ethan’s. It shouldn’t exist…” She spoke weakly, tears still falling. Behind me came the sound of breaking glass. I turned in shock to see my mother’s face, pale with horror. My heart sank — my mother had a heart condition. She couldn’t handle shocks like this. But she’d heard everything… The next second, my mother clutched her chest, her breathing growing more labored. Before I could say anything, her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. “Mom!” I screamed, rushing to her. In the chaos, I dialed 91

The ambulance sirens wailed as they took Vivian and my mother to the hospital. Sitting in the emergency vehicle, I felt like I was falling into a bottomless abyss. At the hospital, after emergency treatment, the doctor informed me that my mother had suffered an acute myocardial infarction and needed to be hospitalized for observation. Vivian had a threatened miscarriage and needed bed rest. I’d barely caught my breath when Ethan rushed in. He didn’t even glance at me, heading straight to Vivian’s bedside. “Vivian, how are you? Are you okay?” Vivian opened her eyes. Seeing him, tears fell again. “Ethan, I’m fine. Don’t blame Mia. This is all my fault.” Ethan turned to look at me, his eyes frighteningly cold. “This has nothing to do with her. If anyone’s to blame, it’s certain people for being so petty.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Ethan, can you be reasonable? She ran into the coffee table herself. It has nothing to do with me.” He laughed coldly. “If you hadn’t come home and mocked her, would she be like this? Mia, I never thought you were such a vicious woman. You can’t even tolerate your own sister.” “I didn’t!” I protested loudly, but my voice sounded so weak and powerless. Nurses and patients around us turned to look curiously. Those stares pierced me like needles, making me wish I could disappear. Ethan stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. “I don’t care whether you did or not. Right now, you need to apologize.” I struggled to shake off his hand. “Why should I apologize?” This was absurd — he was the one sleeping with Vivian behind my back. Yet I was supposed to apologize to Vivian because their child got hurt. Vivian’s tears fell again as she begged us to stop. Seeing Ethan and I continue to argue, she suddenly grabbed a fruit knife from the table and slashed it toward her wrist without hesitation. 3 “Vivian!” Ethan and I both cried out at once. Blood immediately seeped from her wrist, staining the white sheets red. A nurse rushed over, quickly taking the knife from her hand and administering first aid. “Stop forcing Mia, Ethan,” Vivian said weakly. The fury in Ethan’s eyes intensified. “Mia, are you satisfied now?” Watching this scene unfold, I felt dizzy and disoriented. Swallowing my humiliation, I pulled out my phone to contact the divorce lawyer I’d just hired. But the moment I unlocked the screen, Ethan snatched it from me. He glanced at the screen and laughed coldly. “Mia, you think you’re still in a position to talk about divorce?” He grabbed my wrist and dragged me to the far end of the hospital corridor. “That old house your father left behind, plus the company shares — transfer them to Vivian’s name immediately.” I froze, staring at him in disbelief. “Ethan, those are the assets my father left me. They have nothing to do with you or Vivian.” “Why should I?” He scoffed, pulling out his phone and opening a video. He held it in front of my face. “Because of this.” The video was blurry, the lighting dim, but my face was clearly recognizable. In the footage, my clothes were disheveled, my face filled with terror and despair. This was from the assault eight years ago. Suffocating dread washed over me instantly. I never imagined he’d been keeping something like this all along. He toyed with the phone, his tone casual. “Back then, I could find the key evidence to get your father acquitted. Now I can anonymously upload this video online.” “Then I’ll get some people to add their own spin — saying you were willing, that you even seduced them. What do you think people will say about you then?” I felt frozen to my core, tears streaming uncontrollably. He continued pressing. “Mia, just be good and hand over the inheritance as compensation for Vivian. Then we’ll pretend none of this ever happened. I can have Vivian give you the baby after she gives birth, and she’ll go back to college.” He paused, mockery filling his eyes. “Otherwise, you know what happens.” I looked at him, my vision blurred with tears. “Ethan, if you hate me this much, why did you marry me in the first place?” He smiled slightly, reaching out to gently caress my cheek. “I don’t hate you, Mia. But you know, what happened back then — any man would care about that. There’s always been a thorn in my heart.” His fingertips lightly traced my jawline, his tone coaxing. “Once this baby is born, we’ll go back to how things were. I’ll never have any contact with Vivian again. We’ll have a good life together, okay?” “I’m giving you three days to think about it.” Looking at this familiar face, all I felt was endless disgust and despair. 4 After leaving the corridor, I returned to the hospital room. My mother was still unconscious. Vivian lay in bed with her eyes closed, her face still pale. Ethan sat by Vivian’s bedside, speaking softly to comfort her. I stood in the doorway, the last thread of hope in my heart finally severed completely. I knew that Ethan and I could never go back to what we were. But instead of making any decision, I went to the hospital for a routine checkup the next day. I didn’t tell anyone. Sitting outside the examination room, my emotions were in turmoil. This was my child. I’d been so excited about his arrival. But now everything had changed. Just as the nurse called my name, the door burst open. Ethan rushed in and yanked me up from the chair. His eyes were bloodshot as he dragged me outside. I struggled. “Ethan, let go of me! I want a divorce!” He ignored my struggles, dragging me all the way out of the hospital and shoving me into the car. “Mia, I warned you not to try leaving me. You didn’t listen, so now you’ll pay the price.” With that, he started the car and drove toward the hospital where my mother was staying. The moment he pushed open the hospital room door, I saw Vivian sitting by my mother’s bed, peeling an apple. Seeing us enter, Vivian froze, then gave a gentle smile. “Ethan, you’re back.” Ethan didn’t speak. He simply pulled Vivian to him and kissed her fiercely. Vivian’s eyes widened in shock, her face filled with surprise. Then she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms tightly around Ethan’s neck. “Mmm…” My mother’s pupils dilated suddenly on the hospital bed. Her mouth twitched continuously, her face filled with shock and disbelief. Ethan kissed Vivian for a long time before releasing her. He turned to look at me. “Mia, you wanted to cut ties? I’ll let you cut them completely.” His gaze shifted to my mother on the bed, his voice clear and venomous. “Mom, let me tell you a secret. Vivian isn’t the child Mia brought back from the orphanage. She’s Mia’s father’s illegitimate daughter from an affair. The foster daughter you’ve been caring for all these years is actually proof of your husband’s betrayal.” “No… that’s impossible…” My mother trembled all over, her lips quivering as she spoke weakly. Vivian suddenly spoke up, her tone no longer weak or remorseful. “It’s true, Mom. Before my mother died, she told me about it and told me to find my father. He wouldn’t acknowledge me, so Mia kindly took me into the family and gave me a place to stay.” I stood frozen, my mind going completely blank. My mother opened her mouth to speak but could only let out a piercing scream. The next second, her body stiffened and she lost consciousness completely. “Mom!” I screamed and rushed to her. Doctors and nurses came running at the commotion and began emergency resuscitation. Over half an hour later, the doctor emerged from the emergency room. He shook his head, his tone heavy. “The patient suffered severe brain hemorrhaging from extreme stress. She’s now in a vegetative state.” I murmured to myself, wanting to cry but unable to shed a single tear… Looking at my mother lying lifeless on the hospital bed, thinking of the child growing inside me. In that moment, all my emotions collapsed. I numbly stood up and ran like a madwoman toward the fifth-floor window. Under everyone’s horrified gaze, I threw myself out and jumped. Ethan’s face went deathly pale. “Mia!”

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In the fifth year of pursuing Alexander, I received an anonymous video. In a private room at some high-end club, Alexander had his arm around a woman, listening lazily to the chatter around him. “Chloe skipped the party again. Is she working herself to death for Alex at the company?” “Alex, Chloe’s been chasing you for years. Don’t you like her even a little?” He swirled his drink and let out a derisive laugh. “Like her? She’s just an obedient dog I keep around.” In that moment, it felt like someone had dumped ice water over my head. So cold. But also sobering. I pulled out my phone and messaged the blind date my family had arranged. After all, the best way to forget one relationship is to start another. I didn’t know yet that the man I was about to meet was a legendary Alpha werewolf. And that he’d been in love with me for a very long time. He replied quickly to my request to meet, gentleman that he was, saying I could choose the time and he’d arrange the place. The problem was, when my parents mentioned this blind date, I hadn’t listened to a single word. Now I knew absolutely nothing about this date of mine. I arrived early at the reserved restaurant, hesitating at the entrance. What if I didn’t recognize him? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing? I was pacing nervously when I suddenly tripped. I cried out, pitching forward. My clutch went flying from my hand. Great! My first official date was going to start with me flat on my face? But the expected pain never came. An arm wrapped around my waist with incredible strength, while another hand caught my clutch smoothly. The momentum spun me half around until my back pressed against a solid, warm chest. I was completely steady. It all happened in an instant. Still in shock, I looked up into a pair of exquisite features, impossibly close. And I recognized this face. William Carter. The most mysterious and intimidating figure in high society business circles. I’d seen his name countless times on Alexander’s target partner lists, but supposedly he was known for ruthless methods and coldness. Extremely difficult to approach. We’d never succeeded in partnering with him even once. My mind went blank. I even forgot I was still in his arms. How had he gotten here? When I was falling, I’d glimpsed the entrance—no one else was there. How had he appeared from nowhere and caught me so precisely, so quickly, even snagging my airborne clutch? His speed was almost… inhuman. “Careful,” his low, gentle voice sounded above my head. He steadied me upright, then released his hold on my waist like a gentleman, returning my clutch. His fingertips brushed my palm inadvertently. “Th-thank you…” I took the clutch, my cheeks burning. All those questions about his “impossible speed” had vanished from my mind. “You’re welcome.” He smiled slightly, asking softly, “Are you Miss Summers?” I looked up in surprise. How did he know my last name? His smile deepened. “Is it possible that I’m the one you’re waiting for?” I was stunned. My family only said they’d arranged a great blind date. But I never dared imagine it would be someone at William Carter’s level. Now sitting across from William in his private dining room, I kept smiling on the surface while texting my mother under the table. [You arranged a date with William Carter for me?] [Our family background is good enough to match with his family now?] [Did you guys make a fortune on some investment?] Mom replied quickly. [What are you talking about, honey? Having fever dreams in broad daylight?] [We arranged for you to meet one of William Carter’s nephews.] [Didn’t Aunt Susan explain this to you?] I glanced at the smiling man across from me. Could there possibly be another face like this in the world? Meeting his gaze, I couldn’t keep pretending to be busy. I stammered, “Um… may I ask if you’re… William Carter?” He nodded, then smiled apologetically. “Yes. My fault—I haven’t introduced myself properly.” “Hello, Summers. I’m William Carter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” When he spoke, his gaze was deep and focused, as if he wasn’t looking at someone he was formally meeting for the first time. But in a blink, he returned to that gentle, courteous demeanor. And the information he was giving me… completely contradicted what my mother told me. I was confused. “But the blind date they arranged for me… wasn’t supposed to be…” William raised an eyebrow and picked up his coffee, taking a light sip. “That little pup… I mean, that kid isn’t good enough for you. So I came instead.” “What’s wrong?” His voice held a hint of tension. “Would you have preferred him?” I froze. Why was he talking like… like we were already close?

I was puzzled, but William remained completely composed, staring at me unblinkingly, clearly expecting an answer. I could only force myself to speak. “Of course not… I don’t even know him.” He chuckled. “Then me substituting for him—that’s okay, right?” I swallowed. “I… guess…” Of course it was okay with me. William seemed very happy with my answer. He pulled out thick documents from somewhere, stood, and leaned over to place them in front of me. “Good. This contains my assets and background information. I believe this file demonstrates my sincerity.” He paused, looking at me with focused intensity, his voice low and magnetic. “I hope you’ll consider me.” Up close, his voice became even more appealing, making my head spin a little. Was this some fantasy I was having after Alexander drove me crazy? Under the table, I pinched my thigh hard. Ow! That hurt. Not a dream. Perhaps my expression was growing increasingly blank, because William smiled and retreated to his seat. I snapped back to attention, realizing I’d lost my composure again. I quickly grabbed my glass and took a sip of water to hide my embarrassment, then forced myself to speak calmly. “Mr. Carter. Do you mean… you want to marry me?” The air seemed to freeze for a moment. Something almost scorching flashed in his eyes, but was quickly suppressed, leaving only pure earnestness. “Yes. Miss Summers, I hope to have the honor of becoming your husband.” His attitude was clear and resolute. I truly didn’t know what to do. Who proposes marriage on the first meeting? And the person was William Carter… a man I’d always thought completely out of reach. “But… why me?” He seemed to have anticipated this question. He leaned back casually, tilting his head. “A woman as outstanding as you in ability, personality, and looks—does wanting to marry you need a reason?” He even raised an eyebrow at me with a smile. His tone and demeanor were so serious that I felt embarrassed instead. I touched my nose. “But aren’t your qualifications even better?” William paused for two seconds, looking directly into my eyes. “Then do you think I’m good?” I froze, silently looking at the table full of dishes that perfectly matched my tastes. I’d contacted him so late yesterday, yet he’d still managed to research my preferences this thoroughly. At least as a date, he was extremely sincere. His manner was nothing like the cold, ruthless reputation he had. Add his excellent personal qualities and family background… who wouldn’t think he was good? I hesitated a moment. “You’re… pretty great.” William brightened noticeably, lowering his head to chuckle quietly, pushing the documents closer to me. “Then will you try this with me?” Realizing he meant marriage, my instinct was to retreat. After all, this wasn’t anywhere in my life plans right now. But William’s emotions seemed so genuine that I wanted to be honest too. “We can try getting to know each other. But marriage… isn’t that a bit too fast?” At my answer, darkness flashed through his eyes, quickly concealed. “Alright. Whatever you say.”

After dinner, William had his driver take me home. On the way, I overheard his assistant talking to him and learned that at the time I’d asked him to dinner, he’d originally had an important international video conference. I felt terrible. “Did I make you miss your meeting? I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” Seeing my dejection, William bent down, bringing his face very close to mine. His scent enveloped me instantly. He spoke quietly, his breath almost brushing my cheek. “How could a meeting be more important than you? After all, you asking me out isn’t something that happens every day.” His face was so close I could see his long, thick lashes clearly. And those beautiful eyes were filled entirely with my reflection. In that moment, I could even hear my heartbeat accelerating. “William…” Perhaps seeing my discomfort, he slowly pulled back. “I should go take care of things.” The goodbye was hurried. And when he turned to walk away on those long legs, his steps seemed a bit… uncoordinated. I watched his retreating figure and slowly rolled up the car window. I felt inexplicably happy. Like maybe… I actually really enjoyed being with William. That evening, William finally finished work and sent me a message. A photo of the bright moon hanging high—clearly just taken. I quickly replied: [So beautiful.] He replied even faster. [Yes. Seeing it made me think of you.] Think of me? I felt oddly shy. [Are you always this good at flirting?] But he seemed completely sincere. [I just said what I thought. Does that count as flirting?] This man… how could he always say things that made my heart race while being so matter-of-fact? I was wondering how to reply when a new message popped up: [Are you free for dinner tomorrow?] I barely hesitated. [Yes!] In the following days, William’s pursuit was passionate and direct. We saw each other almost daily. He constantly sent me carefully selected expensive gifts. I truly experienced what it felt like to be buried in luxury presents. But constantly accepting his generosity made me uncomfortable, so before dinner one day, I went early to a nearby high-end department store to pick out a gift for William. After searching for ages, I couldn’t find anything William would actually need. Finally, in the men’s accessories section, I spotted a platinum tie clip with simple design but excellent quality. Just as I was paying and having it wrapped, a derisive laugh came from behind me. “Chloe, finally done with your tantrum?” My movements instantly stiffened. I knew that voice very well. It was Alexander’s.

I turned around. Alexander and several of his friends had appeared at the store entrance, looking at me with leisurely arrogance. I didn’t give him a second glance, turning back to wait for the clerk to finish wrapping. But those people had to come closer. “Assistant Chloe’s shopping? Isn’t that a men’s tie clip? Picking it out for Alex?” “This simple style would definitely suit Alex. Assistant Chloe is so thoughtful!” “Though after all this fuss, Alex is genuinely a bit angry. A little gift might not be enough to appease him…” Amid all the chatter, Alexander snorted. “Who needs some trinket! But if you apologize properly, I can give you that opportunity.” His voice made me sick. I simply didn’t look at him. “I already resigned. My name is Chloe, not Assistant Chloe. And this isn’t for Alexander. Can you stop making assumptions?” After I spoke, the smirking faces slowly turned serious. Alexander’s expression darkened too. He stared at me for a long moment. “Still not done playing games? That’s enough, Chloe. I don’t have unlimited patience.” Then he glanced mockingly at the velvet jewelry box the clerk had just wrapped. “A men’s tie clip. Who else could you be giving it to?” I paid and accepted the item. “My date. Is that okay?” Alexander narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you say you weren’t going on dates?” I picked up the gift and headed out. “I changed my mind.” His voice turned cold instantly. “Who?” I paused, choosing to tell the truth. “William Carter.” At this name familiar to everyone in their circle, they all fell silent. After a moment, quiet laughter resumed. Alexander’s heavy voice came from behind. “Chloe. Finding a fake boyfriend to make me jealous is stupid. And if you’re going to make someone up, at least make it believable.” I didn’t care whether they believed me or not. Without looking back, I left directly. Because of this incident, I was slightly late for dinner. When I arrived, William was folding a napkin into a flower. Seeing me enter, he adjusted the shape with his hands and presented a napkin rose before me. “Like it?” I paused. “It’s beautiful! So intricate. You’re talented! Sorry, something came up and I’m late. Have you been waiting long?” Hearing my apology, William set down the napkin rose. “It’s fine.” After two or three seconds, he couldn’t help adding, “My assistant told me you ran into… a friend earlier?” I froze. After openly chasing Alexander so obsessively for so long, William didn’t even need to investigate to know how crazy I’d been about Alexander. But during this time, neither of us had brought up that topic. Mentioning it now, he must… mind, right? I quickly distanced myself. “That person and I aren’t friends at all.” William looked at me, his voice still tentative. “A former friend, then?” I thought about it. “Not even that. More like a dark chapter in my past.” The intense emotions in William’s eyes dissipated, returning to the familiar warmth I knew. Seeing him smile, I took the opportunity to push the velvet box toward him. “I was only late because I was picking out a gift for you. Does it suit you?” William’s eyes suddenly blazed with astonishing light. “For me?” I nodded. His face filled with unmistakable delight as he gently accepted the small box. Opening it, he removed the platinum tie clip and examined it carefully between his fingers, starlight dancing in his eyes. “Thank you, Chloe. I love it.” Realizing something seemed off, he looked up at me, asking cautiously, “May I call you that?” I blinked. “Of course you can!”

William seemed very happy, looking at me with burning intensity, his voice lower and huskier than before. “Would you help me put it on?” I nodded. As I approached and my fingers inadvertently touched his shirt front and tie, I could feel his muscles tense instantly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. But he quickly relaxed, simply looking down at me deeply. I carefully clipped the tie clip onto his tie, adjusting the position. The platinum gleamed coldly, complementing his composed attire perfectly. “Done.” I looked up. He glanced down at it, then lifted his face proudly, unable to suppress his smile. “Perfect. Now when people notice it and ask why I changed accessories, I can tell them it’s a gift from you—and that you put it on me yourself.” Lost in his imagination, he grew more and more proud. That expression was exactly like a large dog that had received an exclusive treasure and was satisfied to the point of wanting to show it off, every pore radiating joy. It was truly overwhelming. But… though we’d been close these past days, we still hadn’t defined our relationship. I hesitated. “But if you announce it like that, won’t people misunderstand?” William’s imaginative expression froze. The amusement in his eyes quickly faded, replaced by indescribable heat. “Misunderstand?” he repeated in a low voice, even huskier than before. Then he suddenly wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his embrace. The distance between us vanished instantly as his scent completely enveloped me. “Chloe,” he lowered his head, gaze falling on my lips, eyes churning with visible desire, “I very much hope people will misunderstand… or better yet, that it won’t be a misunderstanding, but the truth.” Before finishing, his head lowered, targeting my lips with clear intent. “William!” I cried out, reaching up to push him away. But he caught my hand. He kissed me, then slowly moved his lips to my earlobe, then my neck. He unbuttoned my shirt, exposing large expanses of skin. I felt something cool and wet. He was gently biting my neck with his teeth, like some beast holding its prey. An instinctive fear engulfed me. I struggled hard, tears falling uncontrollably. His movements stopped abruptly. I could see the churning desire in his eyes instantly replaced by shock and a trace of guilt, though his arms still held me loosely, not releasing immediately. He looked at me, voice hoarse as he pressed, “I’m sorry, but please—tell me what you’re thinking.”

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The day my left eye was finally set to receive a cornea transplant and regain sight, the hospital suddenly informed me that the donor’s family had withdrawn their donation. I was so shocked I fell from the hospital bed and cut my head open. My sister, Lily, walked in with a smirk on her face. “Stella, did the hospital just call to cancel your surgery? Hahaha!” “I told the donor’s family you were faking blindness — just as a joke, you know.” My vision blurred as I screamed in despair. “Why would you do this? Because of your joke, I might never see again!” My mother, Mary, gently stroked Lily’s back and scolded me in a soft voice. “Could you keep it down? You still have one good eye, don’t you? Just wait for the next chance.” Watching their tender mother-daughter scene, I suddenly felt the absurdity of it all had no bounds. Later, Lily was diagnosed with kidney failure. The whole family went bankrupt waiting for a kidney donor. Right before she went into surgery, I smiled at the doctor and said. “Lily told me she’s given up on treatment. She wants to give her kidney to the old man in the next bed!”

I accepted Lily’s “joke.” I climbed out of the hospital bed, pressed my hand against my bleeding forehead, and rushed out of the room. The hallway was packed with people. My left eye could barely see anything, and my right eye’s peripheral vision could only make out blurry shapes. I felt my way along the wall, step by step, toward the Organ Donation Coordination office. I had to find those donor family members. The cornea hadn’t been transported yet — maybe there was still time. “Stella, slow down! With your eyes, you’ll fall!” Lily called out loudly. I ignored her and quickened my pace. The donor family was a couple in their fifties. Their son had died from traumatic brain injury in a car accident. He’d signed an organ donation agreement before his death. I’d been waiting for this cornea for three years. The day the match came through, I cried all night under my covers. They were sitting on the bench outside the coordination office. I dropped to my knees with a thud. “Sir, ma’am, please — I’m really going blind.” “I’m not a con artist. My medical records are all here. You can verify everything with the doctors.” I gripped the bench armrest. “Please don’t cancel the donation. This is my last chance.” The man pulled his wife back half a step. “Your sister already told us — you’re not really blind at all.” “My son’s corneas aren’t meant for scammers.” He clenched his fists. “Do you have any idea how hard this decision was for us?” “And you’re using my son’s organs as a tool to scam money?” I shook my head desperately, tears mixing with blood streaming down my face. “No, I’m not lying, I really am —” Lily caught up and crouched down, placing her hand on my shoulder. “Sir, ma’am, I’m so sorry about this.” “Stella’s always been like this. At home, she pretends she can’t see to get out of chores.” She suddenly covered her mouth. “Oh… I shouldn’t have said that.” “Stella’s actually pretty pitiful. She’s just gotten used to using her bad eyes to take advantage of people.” Her gaze shifted away. “Like that welfare fraud thing before… never mind, I shouldn’t say more.” “Welfare fraud? You committed welfare fraud too!” The man pointed at my nose. “My son is dead. We’re donating his organs to save people who truly need them!” “Not to be wasted on scammers like you!” The woman grabbed her husband’s arm. “Let’s go. We need to find the coordinator. We’d rather not donate this cornea at all than give it to her.” I knelt on the floor, mouth open, unable to utter a single word. Footsteps approached from behind. Mary had arrived. I turned my head. “Mary, please tell them I really can’t see!” “Just say something for me!” Mary pulled me up and brushed off the dust. “Enough, enough. Stop making a scene.” She turned to the couple with an apologetic smile. “Sir, ma’am, I apologize on behalf of my older daughter.” “This child has loved making up stories since she was little. Sorry for startling you.” “My younger daughter just speaks her mind too honestly. She told the truth.” The couple walked into the coordination office and slammed the door shut. A nurse approached with files. “Family of Stella Smith? The coordination office just sent notice.” “The donor party has signed the final refusal form.” She opened the file to check the records. “According to the sequence, the cornea will be transported to the next matched patient within thirty minutes.” “I’m very sorry. There’s nothing more we can do.” Lily sighed behind me. “Stella, see? It’s all because your credibility is so bad.” I said nothing. Blood dripped from my brow onto the hospital corridor tiles. One drop, two drops. I stood there for a long time. Long enough for the cornea that should have been mine to be placed in a transport container and wheeled past me. I couldn’t see anything clearly, but I heard the wheels rolling across the floor. That was the last time I would ever come close to light.

Back in the ward, I sat on the edge of the bed without saying a word. Lily leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me. “Come on, Stella, don’t be like this. You’re making it seem like I hurt you or something.” Lily pouted. “I really didn’t know that family would react so badly.” “I just said it casually. Who knew they’d take it seriously?” She walked over to the bed. “Besides, think about it — it’s not like both your eyes are blind.” “Just wait a bit longer. There’ll definitely be another cornea.” I didn’t have the energy to argue with her. My father, John, came in from outside holding a payment receipt. He glanced at the bandage on my forehead, then looked down at the receipt. “The pre-surgery examination cost twelve thousand dollars this time. Since the cornea surgery didn’t happen, can we get a refund?” Mary shook her head. “I asked. They won’t refund it.” John slammed the receipt on the bedside table. “Twelve thousand dollars down the drain!” “If you’d offended fewer people out there, would Lily have said those things to them?” I looked up at him. “John, those are my eyes.” “I know they’re your eyes.” John cut me off. “But think about it — Lily just made a joke, and this is what happened to you?” “Don’t you bear any responsibility yourself? If you’d been nicer to Lily normally —” “Enough, enough.” Mary patted Lily’s back. “Let’s not fight, family. Lily didn’t mean it.” “Stella, calm down. If we can’t do the left eye for now, just rest it. We’ll wait slowly for next time.” Lily nodded and burrowed into Mary’s arms. I watched their mother-daughter embrace and suddenly remembered something. “Mary, the wound on my forehead keeps hurting. A bandage isn’t enough — it needs stitches.” Mary didn’t even look up. “What stitches? It’s not like you broke an arm.” “You’ve always exaggerated things since you were little.” That night, the wound on my forehead started to feel hot. The next day when I woke up, the entire right side of my face was swollen. I told the nurse my head hurt unbearably. The nurse removed the bandage. “The wound is seriously infected. Why didn’t you get it treated earlier?” “This won’t work. We need to do debridement immediately, and you need an eye nerve examination.” When the test results came back, the attending physician called my parents into the office. I couldn’t hear what they said. But when my parents came out, Mary’s eyes were red. She glanced at me and spoke. “The doctor said the infection spread into your orbital cavity.” “Your right eye’s optic nerve… is damaged.” I froze. “What does that mean?” “It means your right eye is going blind too.” My left eye had started degenerating three years ago. Now it only had a faint light perception. My right eye was my last light. “That’s impossible — my right eye was fine — just because I bumped it?” The doctor came out holding the report. “The infection spread from the wound to the optic nerve, causing inflammation.” “If we’d done debridement and anti-inflammatory treatment immediately, it wouldn’t have developed to this point.” “But you waited an entire day.” He looked at my parents. “Why didn’t the family bring her in for treatment right away?” My parents were silent for two seconds. Lily sat on a chair in the hallway, legs crossed, eating yogurt. “Well, Stella’s always made mountains out of molehills. How were we supposed to know this time it was real?” No one responded to her. I sat in the examination room, watching the last bit of light perception in my eyes slowly dimming. Not even the last faint glimmer of light — no one was willing to help me keep it. I gripped the bed sheet tightly. I didn’t cry or make a scene. I was just thinking about one thing — something I would never have considered before.

My right eye’s vision dropped to near-total blindness within two weeks. The doctor said that with orbital decompression surgery combined with anti-inflammatory treatment, I might be able to preserve light perception. John asked, “How much?” “About eighty thousand dollars initially.” John said nothing. Mary said, “Where would we get that kind of money? We borrowed the money for Stella’s cornea surgery.” “We still haven’t paid it back.” She glanced at Lily, then at me. “Stella, get discharged for now. Rest at home. Every day we can save counts.” I was discharged. Standing at the hospital entrance, it was raining. I couldn’t tell if what was ahead was a road or stairs. I stepped out and immediately missed a step. I fell hard on the ground. I got up, walked less than ten steps, and crashed into a trash can. My knees and palms were covered in scrapes. My parents left right after dropping me at the hospital entrance. Lily didn’t come. I crouched in the rain, suddenly remembering many things. In high school, I worked part-time while studying. With my bad eyes, I couldn’t find normal part-time work, so I went to help at a massage parlor for the blind off campus. I washed towels and mopped floors. Lily came to pick me up from school once. The next day, she went around telling everyone with a smile. “Stella works at one of those massage parlors off campus. You know what I mean, right?” My classmates started avoiding me. The way the boys looked at me completely changed. The homeroom teacher called me into the office. In front of other teachers, she asked me. “Stella Smith, are you engaged in inappropriate work after school?” I said no, I was just helping with odd jobs at a massage parlor for the blind. The teacher said, “That’s not what Lily says.” Later, I had my first boyfriend. The boy knew about my bad eyes. Every day after school, he held my hand and walked me home. He said it was okay — he could be my eyes. After Lily found out, she asked the boy out for coffee. She stirred her straw. “That massage parlor where Stella works doesn’t just do massages — they provide special services.” “Plus, her eye condition is hereditary. Your future children will go blind too.” The next day, the boy blocked me on everything. I begged him to let me explain. I sent him dozens of messages. All of them went unanswered. I went crying to confront Lily. She rolled her eyes. “I just said it casually. If he believed it, is that my fault?” “Bottom line is he didn’t love you enough.” Mary tossed the vegetables she’d picked into a basin. “Lily’s not wrong. If he was truly committed, would a few words break you up?” “You’re so grown up and still dating? What about your studies?” Every time, they told me to be magnanimous, blamed me — a blind person — for caring about these things. I got up from the rain and felt my way home through the darkness. From that day on, I never mentioned my eyes to anyone again. And I stopped holding expectations of anyone. I put on sunglasses and went to work at the massage parlor for the blind. Three thousand dollars a month. I kept fifteen hundred and gave the rest to my family. My parents actually thought I’d finally matured. Lily occasionally came to the shop to see me and mock how little I earned. I smiled and agreed. I was waiting. One year and three months later, Lily suddenly collapsed at home. She was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with bilateral kidney failure, late stage. She needed a transplant. Mary cried in the hospital hallway, calling everyone to borrow money. She went through every relative and friend in her contacts. John sold the family car, then listed our small two-bedroom apartment with a realtor. They scraped together just enough for compatibility testing and preliminary treatment. Then came the wait for a kidney donor. They waited three months. During those three months, Lily’s temper grew worse and worse. She smashed a water glass in front of the attending physician. “What kind of garbage hospital is this! I’m dying and you can’t find one faster?” My parents always stood beside her. Mary hugged her with heartache. “Sweetheart, I know you’re suffering.” And every day after work, I took a two-hour bus ride to the hospital. I brought her meals, stayed overnight, wiped her down. Sometimes Lily would look me over. “Stella, do you think this is all your life will ever be?” “Eyes gone blind, massaging people’s feet — what’s the point of you being alive?” I smiled faintly. “Yeah, there’s no point, so you have to get better.” “The family’s counting on you.” She was satisfied with my answer. She had no idea that every time I came to the hospital, I wasn’t just bringing her meals.

After three months and nine days of waiting. One afternoon, the attending physician rushed through the ward door. “Family of Lily Smith, we’ve matched a donor kidney in the same city.” “Perfect compatibility. We can schedule the surgery.” The room went silent for a second, then erupted in loud crying. Mary held Lily and sobbed. John crouched in the corner, hands covering his face, shoulders shaking. Lily turned to look at me. “Stella, see? God still loves me.” She wiped her tears. “Forget about your cornea. You’ve already adapted to darkness anyway.” “But I’m still young. I can’t die.” I sat on the caregiver’s chair beside her bed and smiled at her. “Yeah, you’re really lucky.” I picked up a comb and brushed her hair. She closed her eyes and hummed a tune. The surgery was scheduled for three days later. During those three days, I was more gentle than I’d ever been. I bought Lily her favorite brownie, trimmed her nails. At night I chatted with her until she fell asleep, then collapsed on the caregiver bed myself. Mary patted my shoulder. “Stella, once Lily’s body recovers, she definitely won’t forget you.” I nodded without speaking. On the day of surgery, nurses came early for pre-op preparation. At ten o’clock, the transport gurney arrived. The nurse asked, “Which family member will accompany her to the operating room door?” The nurse flipped through another page. “Sorry, we’re still short forty-eight thousand dollars on the surgery deposit.” “A family member needs to go to the first-floor manual payment window.” My parents looked at each other, then both looked at me. “Stella, you watch Lily. We’ll go downstairs to pay. We’ll be quick.” I nodded. “Don’t worry, Mary. I’m here.” My parents hurried off. Only Lily on the gurney, the nurse, and I remained in the hallway. The operating room door stood open, light streaming through. Lily clutched the edge of the sheet and turned to look at me. “Stella, do you think something might go wrong with the surgery?” I crouched down and leaned close to her ear. “No, don’t be scared.” She let out a long breath. Just then, the old man from the next bed was wheeled out by his family. He also had kidney failure and had been admitted six months before Lily. But he’d never received a donor kidney. The old man’s wife sat beside the gurney, writing something — a will. The old man spoke in fragments while his wife wrote it down. “Leave the old house to our grandson… the bankbook is in the second drawer…” With each sentence, his wife lowered her head to wipe tears. Lily glanced over and frowned. “How unlucky. Can’t you do this somewhere else instead of in the hallway? It’s ruining my mood.” The old man’s wife heard her, looked up, but said nothing. She quietly moved the gurney to the other side. I looked at that scene too. Then I stood up and stopped the nurse who was about to wheel Lily into the operating room. “Wait.” Lily froze and looked up at me. “Stella? What are you doing?” “Give me some encouragement. Say something nice so I can go in with peace of mind.” I took off my sunglasses. I couldn’t see anything clearly anymore. But I could hear Lily lying on the gurney. Completely defenseless, waiting for me to send her on her final journey. I smiled. This time, I truly smiled. I turned toward where I heard the nurse. “Excuse me, Lily just told me she doesn’t want the surgery anymore.” “Give the kidney to the old man in the next bed.”

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