Category: English

I’m a wellness specialist. Lately, a wealthy socialite has been coming to The Sanctuary Spa every day, always requesting me. My services, originally just foot massages, gradually expanded to full-body treatments. She’d lean into me, pliant and soft. “Alex, it’s only when I’m with you that I feel truly alive.” I’d smile and hold her close. “Me too.” But my eyes would drift to a hidden, subtly blinking red light directly across from the massage bed… 1 “Alex Hayes, client’s asking for you.” My colleague, Mikey, let out a low whistle, telling me I’d really hit the jackpot. Just a few months into this part-time gig and I’d landed a sugar mama. Young, beautiful, and most importantly, loaded. She’d topped up her spa card with a hundred grand without batting an eye. “This is, like, the eighth time she’s specifically asked for you, isn’t it? She’s clearly smitten. Just seal the deal, and your tuition… oh, wait, your whole damn future will be set, won’t it?” I nudged him away. “Cut it out, man. I’m not interested. Besides, she’s married. I’m not about to be a home-wrecker.” Room 108 was pretty much my permanent station. I tidied myself in the mirror, making sure my uniform smelled of the spa’s signature aromatherapy blend – a scent the woman seemed particularly fond of. Once everything was perfect, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. It was pitch black, no lights on. But I could faintly smell a fragrance that wasn’t mine. I knew exactly what that meant. I spoke softly. “Ms. Thorne, are you here?” In the darkness, my senses were heightened. A soft, warm breath ghosted against my neck. “Alex, I told you last time, don’t call me that.” Cassidy Thorne’s voice slithered around me like silk, making it impossible to resist. I pressed down on her unruly hand, swallowing hard. “Cassidy, Cassie, do you… do you still need my services today?” Cassidy suddenly pulled back half a step, and the room lights snapped on with a jarring flash, momentarily blinding me. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, revealing that Cassidy was prepared today. Her makeup was striking, and a silk dress clung to her body, showcasing every curve. She looked annoyed. “Was I not clear enough last time?” Last time, just yesterday, while I was giving her a foot massage, Cassidy had dropped a heavy hint. She wanted me to quit this job, said she’d take care of me. As long as I was good and stayed by her side, she’d give me a house, a car, money—anything. Cassidy picked up her fallen shawl and wrapped it around herself, a hint of impatience in her movements. “Alex Hayes, you need to think this through. My patience has limits.” I looked up at her. “This is a reputable establishment, we don’t offer… other services.” Cassidy scoffed. “Then call your boss out. I want to cancel my card.” 2 The door swung open abruptly. Right, this was a legitimate place; we never fully closed the door when serving clients. My boss rushed in, frantically giving me the eye, then turning to Cassidy with a plastered-on smile. “Ms. Thorne, this kid’s still green. Please wait a moment, I’ll straighten him out.” My boss dragged me aside and immediately launched into a tirade. He said if I didn’t land Cassidy, I wouldn’t see a dime of my monthly salary. “I know you’re a college kid, proud and a bit shy, but with something like this, you’re not losing out, you know? Cassidy’s gorgeous. You get paid, and… well, it’s a win-win, isn’t it?” I still hesitated. “But she’s married…” “So what? Cassidy is a Thorne, the sole heir to one of the state’s most influential billionaire fortunes. Her husband, Bryce, is a lightweight, a kept man living off her family’s name. He wouldn’t dare do anything even if she had an affair.” My boss coerced, tempted, and wore me down, effectively tying me to Cassidy. “Alright, Alex will be with you today.” For a hundred grand, my boss practically sold me off, completely forgetting he ran a reputable, non-sexual wellness center, as he practically pushed us into the room. Cassidy glanced at me. “So unwilling? Fine, then.” She turned to leave, but I reached out, gently took her wrist, rubbing it subtly before pressing closer. “Cassie, it’s… it’s a bit messy here. Let’s… let’s go somewhere else.” The sprawling estate was impressive, its security no joke. Cassidy strolled in with me, right past the watchful eyes of the security detail. “From now on, this person is allowed in without question, got it?” Stepping inside, I was deeply moved. But the mansion was also filled with traces of two lives intertwined. Framed photos of the couple, radiating affection, made my stomach churn. “Are you sure it’s okay, bringing me to your home?” Cassidy leaned back on the sofa, looking utterly drained. “What’s there to be afraid of? My husband, Bryce?” Cassidy was the only daughter of one of the state’s richest men, beautiful, highly educated, and with such a powerful father. She’d taken over several family businesses right after turning eighteen, a multi-millionaire in her own right, quite a public figure. Her wedding day had made headlines, front-page news and dominating local social media trends. I knew her husband, Bryce Worthington, was her college sweetheart. After graduation, they both joined the family conglomerate. Bryce held an important position within the group, but I was just a college student with no connections. If he found out I’d been sleeping with his wife, he’d skin me alive. I looked down as her scarlet nails reached out, Cassidy tracing my jawline. Her eyes held a flicker of impatience. “You’re scared of him, but you’re not scared of me?” She had a point. The Thornes were the real power. Bryce, for all his bluster, was still just riding her coattails. I turned my hand to intertwine my fingers with hers, smiling faintly. “I’m only scared of you.” Cassidy seemed pleased, her gaze sweeping to the side. “Come closer. Why are you so far away?” 3 As evening deepened, Cassidy had lured me to her mansion, yet she no longer seemed as impatient as before. She simply sat beside me, putting a movie on the projector screen, asking me to watch it with her. Snack bags piled up one after another, and the floor became littered with crumpled tissues and empty wrappers. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but she’d chosen a horror film. Whenever a scary part came on, Cassidy would instinctively lunge into my arms. She’d pull my hand to half-cover her eyes, her lashes fluttering against my skin, sending my heart racing. With such soft warmth in my arms, I couldn’t resist leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. Slap. Before I could even taste her, a stinging slap snapped my head back, momentarily stunning me. Cassidy seemed surprised herself, pulling back slightly. “What’s the rush, big boy? Just watch a bit longer.” The force wasn’t particularly strong, but I rubbed my throbbing cheek, bewildered. Earning money was hard, but dealing with the whims of the ultra-rich felt impossible. She’d been all over me just moments ago, and now this sudden, inexplicable shift to some kind of chaste romance. But Cassidy was my meal ticket now, so I dared not say anything. I sat obediently, watching the screen as she’d instructed. We stayed like that until night had fully fallen, and my stomach had growled several times. The mansion’s staff, who had prepared a lavish spread, cautiously came to usher us. Only then did Cassidy, her expression devoid of emotion, issue her next command. “Let’s eat.” The mansion was vast, and the staff vanished after serving the meal. It was just Cassidy and me, seated at a long dining table, making the room feel cavernous and empty. I hesitated, then asked, “Mr. Worthington won’t be joining us today?” “Do you want him to?” I caught the hostility in Cassidy’s tone and quickly shook my head. “No, not at all. Just curious.” Cassidy suddenly curved her lips into a smile, reaching out to hook her arm around my neck, her breath soft against my ear. “Don’t worry. With me here, he wouldn’t dare do anything to you.” “Alex, just relax and eat with me first.” Cassidy had reverted to her familiar, alluring self from the spa. I relaxed, the food was sumptuous and delicious, and I ate my fill. Cassidy, claiming she needed to maintain her figure, stopped eating early, resting her hands on the table and watching me. Her eyes held a strange, lingering intensity, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t truly looking at me. 4 I put down my chopsticks. “I’m full.” Following Cassidy’s gaze outward, I saw a giant panoramic window. The lights inside were as bright as day, revealing the exterior clearly, though those outside couldn’t see in. “Eat more.” “I’m full…” Cassidy’s voice suddenly sharpened. “I said eat more!” Helpless, I picked up my chopsticks again, nudging some food around. My uncertainty grew; Cassidy’s behavior was utterly bizarre. She was so unpredictable. She claimed to be keeping me, yet she hadn’t made any overtly intimate moves. I put down my chopsticks again and stood up. “Forget it. I’m heading back to campus.” “Are you mad?” Cassidy reached out and pulled me back, swaying playfully and pouting. “Don’t be mad, Alex. I just thought, you need energy for other things, you know?” She quickly glanced out the window, then pressed herself intimately against me. “Since you’re full, let’s go upstairs. To my bedroom.” Upstairs, the master suite. From the moment we entered, Cassidy clung to me like a second skin. But it was impossible to ignore the massive wedding photo hanging prominently above the bed. Doing anything intimate under that photograph felt incredibly unsettling. I managed to pull myself away from her, just enough to speak. “Maybe we should take that down?” Cassidy looked displeased. “Why are you such a chicken?” She cupped my face in her hands, rising on her tiptoes to meet my gaze. “No need to be scared. I’m in charge in this house… Besides, he wouldn’t even care…” A flicker of understanding sparked in my mind, and I was about to say something, but her soft lips pressed against mine, driving away the words. Cassidy’s eyes were closed, but mine remained open, fixed on her flushed cheeks, red with emotion. Click. The bedroom lights snapped off. But directly opposite the bed, a faint, pulsating red light shimmered in the darkness.

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The moment I unlocked my phone, a notification popped up. 【BREAKING NEWS: Tech CEO Eleanor Vance and Husband Dazzle at Charity Gala, Donate Millions, and Can’t Keep Their Hands Off Each Other!】 But I distinctly remembered attending no such charity gala. A knot of confusion tightening in my gut, I tapped the link. In the video, my wife, usually a picture of cool composure, was walking the red carpet, her fingers tightly intertwined with her male assistant’s. Descending the steps, the assistant even swept her into a bridal carry, as if terrified she’d trip on her gown. Even the host couldn’t help but gush, “Mr. and Mrs. Vance are simply as smitten as newlyweds – truly enviable!” Eleanor, however, offered no explanation, just clutched her assistant’s hand and playfully flashed a peace sign at the camera. I stared at the screen, my heart sinking like a stone. Looks like Eleanor wants a new husband. 1 Overnight, Julian Clark, the assistant, became a viral sensation. That very evening, hundreds of thousands flooded his livestream, the comments section exploding with frantic messages: 【OMG, CEO’s Husband! What’s it like being married to the CEO? Spill the tea!】 【Ms. Vance is always so serious. Is she super cute and demure behind closed doors, like a little darling wife?】 【You must be new here! Company employees already leaked it: once, Ms. Vance’s husband came to pick her up, and she’d scamper over and practically melt into his arms, blushing furiously!】 【Wow! So how good was the hug?】 Julian’s face flushed as he nodded. “Very soft, very good to hold.” The comments instantly erupted: 【Oh my God, the CEO’s husband is actually shy! Is this what they mean by a ‘darling husband’?!】 【From today onwards, this couple is officially locked in for me!】 【Please, please, more gossip about Ms. Vance! She’s always got that Ice Queen face on. Her fans are starving!】 Last year, Eleanor Vance attended an international AI conference. A video of her speech went viral, making her an online phenomenon, admired for both her beauty and powerful presence – she became everyone’s “Ice Goddess.” To avoid excessive scrutiny of our private life, I rarely appeared in public with her. So why, this time, did she bring Julian Clark to the gala? Just as I was pondering this, Julian continued: “Ms. Vance might seem cold, but she’s surprisingly demure. She gives me a morning kiss every day and even makes breakfast. At noon, she’ll text to ask what I’ve eaten. And at night, she cooks dinner herself. Every day with her, I feel surrounded by love.” Someone piped up: 【Surrounded by love? That sounds a little suggestive!】 【Quick! Does Ms. Vance prefer a dominatrix outfit or a maid costume at night?!】 【Definitely a maid costume! The colder she is by day, the sweeter she is by night!】 Julian covered his face, “blushing” again. “She prefers to wear maid costumes to please me… Oh, don’t ask any more questions! It’s so embarrassing!” I gripped my phone, my knuckles white. At that very moment, a text from Eleanor popped up: 【Honey, the company’s doing a product test tonight. Might be home very late. Don’t wait up, go to bed first~】 Product test? More like wearing a maid costume on some other “husband’s” bed. Seeing Julian still vaguely flaunting their supposed affection, I left a comment directly in the livestream: 【Julian Clark, you’re just an assistant. What are you doing pretending to be the CEO’s husband?】 The screen instantly went silent. Then, a wave of furious comments crashed down on me: 【Who let this crazy dog loose? Mind your tongue!】 【Calling the CEO’s husband by his full name? Do you have a death wish?】 【I suggest you apologize, fast! Ms. Vance could trace your IP and find you in minutes!】 I scoffed, a cold sneer on my face, and revealed my identity: 【I am Eleanor Vance’s actual husband! Julian Clark, report to HR tomorrow to process your resignation!】 On screen, Julian’s face drained of color. A few seconds later, he abruptly ended the livestream. That night, Eleanor didn’t come home. 2 The next morning, I marched straight to the company. Eleanor, her face etched with exhaustion, immediately lit up when she saw me. She pulled me into her office, clinging to me, playfully whining, “Husband, why are you so early today? Missed me last night, didn’t you?” The images from the livestream flashed through my mind. I shoved her away. Just then, Julian Clark’s voice drifted from outside the door. “I’m going to take care of someone, then I’ll come back to settle things with you!” Julian saw me emerge and lowered his head. His eyes were swollen and red, clearly from a night of heavy weeping. Julian whispered, barely audible, “Mr. Hayes, you’re here?” “Let’s go to the conference room, I’ll explain everything to you there.” I crossed my arms over my chest, my voice booming. “Say whatever you have to say right here. Don’t give me that pathetic, innocent look, making people think I’m bullying you.” I added, “And who are you calling ‘Mr. Hayes’? Just call me Marcus.” Julian looked at Eleanor, his eyes brimming with tears. Eleanor, unflustered, began to explain for him. “Honey, you must have seen the charity gala video last night?” She offered a sweet smile. “It’s like this: I’ve been busy testing new products lately, and I forgot to tell the organizers you wouldn’t be attending. They’d already set up a spot for you and an interactive segment, so I just brought Julian instead. With so many cameras, I couldn’t let outsiders think there was trouble in paradise between us, could I?” No sooner had she finished explaining than the R&D manager rushed in, saying there was a slight glitch with the new product and Eleanor needed to check it out. Julian started to follow, but Eleanor stopped him. “My husband’s still mad. You better not come.” I didn’t beat around the bush. “Julian Clark, let’s talk about what happened on the livestream last night.” Julian’s face immediately drained of color, then flushed, looking utterly miserable. “Marcus, I had a little too much to drink last night, that’s why I spoke without thinking.” He stammered, “You know, my parents aren’t well, and my younger brother is getting married soon, so I need to get money for his wedding. My regular income isn’t enough to cover my family’s expenses, so I thought I’d try livestreaming to earn some extra cash. Yesterday, when I saw so many people in the livestream for the first time, I just… started running my mouth. Honestly, Eleanor and I have nothing going on. It was all just me making things up.” “I’ll upload a video after work clarifying my relationship with Eleanor and apologizing to you.” Julian suddenly dropped to his knees, begging. “Marcus, please don’t fire me! I really need this job.” Seeing I didn’t speak, he began to slap himself repeatedly. The office echoed with the sound of slaps. Julian was a scholarship student Eleanor sponsored. I knew his family’s situation all too well. Watching him slap his face until it was swollen and blood trickled from his lips, my heart softened. “Don’t entertain unrealistic fantasies, and don’t let there be a next time!” My voice hardened. “Otherwise, I, Marcus Hayes, will show no mercy!” I glanced toward the conference room. Eleanor’s expression was grim. It looked like she’d run into a thorny issue. I went home without a word. My best friend, Devon Blake, called, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Mr. Perfect Husband, I heard you went to the company today and made a scene? But you couldn’t bring yourself to deal with Eleanor, huh?” I snapped, “I’m letting her off the hook for now because she’s busy. Tonight, when she comes home, I’ll deal with her.” Devon’s tone sobered. “I heard the organizers didn’t actually expect you to show up. No one’s ever been able to convince a bigshot like you before.” My heart sank. This felt more complicated than it seemed. 3 Under the subdued lighting, I fell into deep thought. Eleanor and I had an arranged marriage, a strategic business alliance. While we had little emotional foundation before the wedding, after, she was shrewd and capable at work, and gentle and virtuous at home. What’s more, my wild, impractical ideas, she somehow understood. It was as if I had suddenly found a soulmate on my wavelength. Even more importantly, our chemistry in bed was explosive. Every night, for three hundred and sixty-five days a year, she’d anticipate my desires, exploring new ways to please me, always keeping things exciting. To give me complete security, she conscientiously maintained more than double the standard social distance from other men. A woman with perfect looks, a stunning figure, and outstanding capabilities – a true catch. It was hard not to be captivated. The door creaked open, and Eleanor quietly slipped in. She shed her outer clothes and burrowed into my embrace like a kitten. “Husband, I’m home.” Seeing I didn’t respond, she chuckled and playfully tapped my nose. “First time I’ve seen you jealous. You’re like a little tiger, all claws and snarls.” I hadn’t cooled down. “I’m no little tiger. Go to your ‘darling husband.’ Aren’t you afraid people will misunderstand and think you’re having an affair, coming to my place?” Eleanor let out a soft laugh. “Still mad at Julian? He’s just a naive boy who hasn’t seen much of the world. It’s normal for him to get a bit conceited with all that sudden attention. Look, he’s already posted a video clarifying things and apologizing. The comments are all trashing him now. Consider it payback for you.” Her eyes met mine, earnest and unwavering. “Husband, I swear to God, there’s absolutely nothing going on between Julian and me!” My heart softened. The Hayes and Vance families had been allied by marriage for years, their interests deeply intertwined and complex. What’s more, Eleanor came home almost every day, working hard to please me every night. I figured she wouldn’t have the time or energy to get physically involved with Julian. So, as long as she was willing to humble herself, I could give her an out. But then, Devon’s warning flashed in my mind, and my expression hardened. I cupped her face, my voice low and cautionary. “Eleanor Vance, you know I, Marcus Hayes, am a stickler for exclusivity. I never liked, nor would I tolerate, sharing what’s mine—people or possessions.” My gaze bore into hers. “The reason I agreed to marry you, beyond the family alliance, was because you were different from those other socialites. You were pure and untainted. If you ever got tainted, I’d find it utterly repulsive. So please, don’t force me to stop loving you.” Eleanor nodded. “Husband, I’ll always be yours and yours alone.” Then she pulled me down toward her. “Husband, how about I make amends in triplicate tonight?” I propped myself up with my elbow, keeping her at arm’s length. “Not so fast. I have a condition: Julian Clark has to be transferred!” “That’s just a word from the CEO’s husband, isn’t it?” she purred. 4 The next morning, Eleanor and I arrived at the company, hand in hand. I marched straight to HR. “Julian Clark lacks the necessary skills. Is there any suitable position for him?” The HR manager paused. “Marcus, we just had a cleaning lady resign.” I nodded. “Excellent. That position suits him well. Doesn’t require much brainpower, after all.” Minutes later, the HR manager loudly announced Julian Clark’s transfer. Amidst the whispers and knowing glances of the onlookers, Julian, fists clenched, stubbornly asked, “Marcus, according to labor law, a formal employee transfer requires a legitimate reason. Otherwise…” I scoffed, cutting him off. “New hires should start from the bottom, shouldn’t they? If you’re unwilling, that’s fine. Just pack your things and leave. There are plenty of people lining up, practically tripping over themselves to get in here.” Familiar footsteps echoed behind me. Julian, his eyes red-rimmed, looked at Eleanor. “Eleanor…” “Eleanor,” I prompted, “do you have any objections?” Eleanor smiled, serene as a summer breeze. “Such trivial people and matters… you decide.” At that, Julian seemed to lose all his strength. “Marcus,” he said, defeated, “I accept the assignment.” He then changed into a cleaner’s uniform and went off to scrub toilets. The onlookers began to whisper amongst themselves. “Ha, he finally got what he deserved! He used to walk around with his nose in the air, acting all superior because Eleanor favored him. Now he’s stuck scrubbing toilets.” “Should I go leave a real mess just to make him gag?” “Oh yes, absolutely! I still remember how he used to boss me around when he first started. I’m boiling with rage! We have to make him sick to his stomach!” I glanced at Eleanor from the corner of my eye. Seeing no reaction from her, a weight lifted from my heart. I clapped my hands and headed off to go racing with Devon. 5 The HR manager was a real go-getter, assigning Julian plenty of manual labor. Eleanor ignored it completely. A month passed peacefully, and our third wedding anniversary was approaching. I specifically dragged Devon to the mall to pick out a gift. From a distance, I saw Eleanor enter a watch store. “Your Eleanor’s something else, isn’t she?” Devon said, his voice full of admiration. “I heard she’s been swamped and stressed lately, but she still remembered your anniversary! Truly a five-star wife in our circle.” My heart swelled with joy listening to his praises. When I got home, I personally prepared a candlelight dinner and changed into Eleanor’s favorite doctor’s uniform, waiting for her to return. But as eight o’clock approached, Eleanor still hadn’t appeared. I called her, but at first, no one answered. Then, her phone was simply off. Eleanor never ignored my calls; no matter how important the matter, she would always answer and explain. My heart clenched. Nothing bad could have happened to her, could it? Frantic, I called Eleanor’s new assistant. He hesitated, stammering, and couldn’t clearly explain where Eleanor was or what she was doing. It wasn’t hard to guess. Eleanor wasn’t at the company, nor was she held up by any legitimate work matter or person. Unless it was Julian Clark. My heart sank. I silently enjoyed the elaborate candlelight dinner alone. Just as I finished the last piece of steak, the door suddenly burst open. Eleanor’s face was thunderous as she raged at me. “Marcus Hayes, I used to think you were merely spoiled, but now I see you’ve lost your humanity!” Her voice trembled with fury. “Julian misspoke, yes. He was subjected to online attacks, bullied by colleagues, demoted and had his salary cut to scrub toilets. He has already received his due punishment! Why do you refuse to let go of his family too? Do you want to drive them to their deaths before you’re satisfied?” She stared at me, her voice dripping with scorn. “Is it really that entertaining to toy with a powerless, no-name kid?” She saw me calmly sipping my red wine. Her anger intensified. She swept the dinner plates and wine bottles off the table with a violent swipe. Porcelain clattered sharply against the floor. Eleanor warned, “I advise you to be a good person! Don’t push my boundaries again!” With that, she stormed out. The space returned to silence. I searched online using a few keywords and quickly pinpointed Julian Clark’s newly created social media account. He was wearing an exquisite watch, flaunting it in a post. 【A one-year anniversary gift personally prepared for me by my amazing CEO!】 【My CEO also said she knows I’ve been through a lot of unhappy things recently, so she’s giving me a vacation to clear my head. She hopes when she sees me again, I’ll be her energetic little assistant once more.】 【Actually, I just want to tell her that a word of comfort from her would be enough.】 I scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping me. Flaunting their relationship so openly? How could I not help him out? I forwarded the link to Devon. “Devon, get all your company’s influencer accounts moving. By tomorrow morning, I want this sweet story of boss and assistant to be viral across the entire internet.” Eleanor Vance, I told you long ago, I, Marcus Hayes, am no saint. Cross me, and there’s a price to pay!

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1 Dr. Bethany Vance, in a desperate attempt to please her lover, brazenly carved “E.T. I’m sorry” into my grandfather’s liver. Then, she abandoned him on the operating table, leaving him to suffocate. In a furious rage, I dragged her to court, only to discover my own husband, a forensic pathologist, had falsified the autopsy report, fabricating evidence for the murderer. Even more horrifying, to cover up the inscription on Grandpa’s liver, he had mutilated it beyond recognition, a bloody, gruesome mess. My fury simmered, unyielding, my spirit refusing to break. It wasn’t until I was brutally beaten that the chilling truth dawned on me: Dr. Adrian Fairchild, my husband, was the lover who had indirectly caused Grandpa’s death. Later, to coerce me into dropping the charges, Bethany barged into my comatose mother’s hospital room and threatened: “You keep fighting me over that old man. I was kind enough to let your mother cling to life a few more days, but you’re so ungrateful! Guess your husband will just have to deal with another body~” I fought with all my might, but they brutally broke my limbs. Desperate, I found Grandpa Hayes’ handwritten letter at home. He was alive, it turned out, and now the head of a top-secret research facility. Bloodied and broken, clutching the ashes of my family and my parents’ commendations, I dialed Grandpa Hayes, my hand shaking violently: “Grandpa, Mom… she’s gone. Our entire family, laden with honors… now, all tortured to death by the Vance family! Eleanor only asks that you investigate, bring them justice…” … In the courtroom, I clutched the autopsy report, my fingertips trembling uncontrollably. Beneath dozens of horrifying slashes on Grandpa’s liver, the faint, scorched letters “E.T. I’m sorry” were visible. My pupils constricted. I dared not dwell on whether “E.T.” stood for Adrian Fairchild. Adrian rose, and in his capacity as a forensic pathologist, declared in court that Grandpa’s death had nothing to do with Bethany Vance. Fat tears splattered the report, and a storm of rage churned in my chest. My eyes blazing, I slammed my hand on the table. “Adrian Fairchild! Grandpa treated you like his own grandson, yet you’re covering for this incompetent doctor who killed him, falsifying autopsy reports, even mutilating Grandpa’s liver to hide evidence! Have you no humanity left?!” Adrian shielded Bethany behind him, blocking my furious gaze, his expression impatient. “Eleanor Hayes, you need evidence when you speak. How can you pin your grandfather’s death on Bethany? I won’t allow you to ruin Dr. Vance’s reputation like this!” “Besides, mutilating the liver is a necessary part of an autopsy! Your grandfather was good to me, but I am a forensic pathologist. I cannot compromise my integrity and help you extort money!” Before his words faded, he fiercely clasped Bethany’s hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone slander you.” My body stiffened—the wedding ring on his hand was a different style, perfectly matching Bethany’s. Adrian noticed my gaze, frowned slightly, but tightened his grip. Whispers rippled through the gallery: “Dr. Vance’s family are all esteemed physicians! Her father’s a hospital CEO, her mother a university professor. She herself is respected for her exceptional medical skill and unwavering ethics, she’s helped countless people! Eleanor Hayes has clearly lost her conscience, daring to sue Dr. Vance!” “She’s just trying to cash in! Eleanor Hayes comes from a blue-collar background, and her mom’s been in a coma for years. Any crumbs from the Vance family would be more than enough for her.” “Good thing Dr. Thorne is impartial. But with his background, why did he marry such a belligerent woman? Everyone used to say he and Dr. Vance were the perfect match!” Adrian’s lips curved into a sneering arc at the comments. He looked down at me. “Eleanor Hayes, you claim to be suing Bethany, yet you can’t produce any evidence. I suggest you get lost.” Evidence? He had already tricked me into handing it over and destroyed it. Even Grandpa’s body had been held under his authority, citing case requirements. My nails bit deep into my palms, blood oozing, my entire body trembling from the pain. “Are you truly going to disregard our marriage vows and shield the murderer of my grandfather?” Adrian’s face twisted with disgust and anger: “Are you done with your theatrics? Bethany has nothing to do with your grandfather’s death! I testify as his grandson-in-law that your grandfather was already on his last legs. Your family is just trying to extort money! Since that’s how it is, don’t blame me for being ruthless!” With that, without waiting for my reply, Adrian submitted an audio recording. In it, my voice could be heard “conspiring” to slander Bethany Vance, then “furious” arguing after he supposedly stopped me. My chest heaved with rage. I screamed at the judge: “That recording is falsified! I demand an investigation!” But no one believed me. The judge immediately dismissed the request, giving a subtle nod to Bethany before ruling against me on the spot. He even stripped me of all my assets, deeming them compensation for Bethany Vance’s emotional distress. When the trial concluded, I refused to accept the verdict. As I shrieked my innocence, someone suddenly pulled out a commendation plaque and thrust it into Bethany’s arms, deliberately looking at me: “Dr. Vance has a kind heart! You saved my son’s life! We all support you! Don’t let this trash upset you!” “Anyone who dares touch you has to answer to us, the families you’ve helped!” Bethany’s face wore a mask of feigned serenity. As she turned away from the crowd, she mouthed a malicious taunt: “Your grandfather got what he deserved. Who are you to fight me?” Rage, like wildfire, ignited from my feet and blazed to my head. I shrieked, lunged at Bethany, tore the commendation plaque from her arms, and violently slapped it across her face. Bethany clutched her face, crying out in pain. Adrian’s hand swung, connecting with my cheek, then he grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it into my head. Blood streamed from my scalp into my eyes, painting my world crimson. “You shrew! Don’t think I won’t hit a woman! Are you done acting out?!” He didn’t spare me another glance. He scooped Bethany into a bridal carry and rushed her to the hospital. The patients’ families left behind glared at me, fists and feet raining down like a storm. “I don’t hit women, but I hit animals! You dare lay a hand on Dr. Vance, you have a death wish!” “Your grandfather deserved to die! Your whole family belongs in hell!” Security arrived much later to disperse the enraged families. As they left, they didn’t forget to spit at me. I lay in a pool of my own blood, clutching the torn report, tears streaming down my face. 2 Time blurred. A torrential downpour began. I stumbled to my feet, limping, each step a wince, to the forensics department. I refused to believe Adrian Fairchild could control everything there. Grandpa hadn’t been cremated yet. I had to get his body and demand a new autopsy. As I crept inside, behind a one-way mirror, two figures writhed, intertwined. I froze, stunned. So “E.T.” was Adrian Fairchild. The lover Bethany Vance had charmed was my own husband. And Adrian, who had inadvertently caused Grandpa’s death, as an impartial forensic pathologist, was actually providing false testimony for Bethany! Adrian’s face was flushed, his body moving with a ruthless rhythm, eliciting breathless moans from Bethany. And Grandpa’s remains lay on the slab nearby. Rage engulfed me. Just as I was about to burst in, two bodyguards appeared from the shadows, pinning me to the ground. To prevent my cries from attracting attention, they clamped a hand over my mouth. Bethany’s gaze met mine through the one-way mirror, a smirk twisting her lips. “Adrian, don’t be mad at me. I promise I’ll spend my next birthday with you. And now you’ve helped me again. How can I ever thank you enough?” Adrian gasped for breath. “Baby, I want you to unlock more intimate experiences with me. I want to try everything with you. It’s all Eleanor Hayes’ fault, clinging to you so stubbornly. I haven’t been able to be close to you these past few days, I’ve missed you so much…” Bethany let out a melodious moan. “Only me? Is your wife no good?” A flicker of contempt crossed Adrian’s features. “Her? She’s obsessed with her dead-end grandpa and her mom on life support. In bed, she’s cold, lifeless, completely unresponsive.” Vile words forced their way into my ears, and tears of humiliation streamed unchecked down my face. Dusk fell slowly, and the bodyguards forced me to witness the entire lewd scene. My heart had already died for Adrian when he provided false testimony for a murderer. Now, it was utterly, completely cold. When they were dressed, Bethany waved the bodyguards to release me. Just as I prepared to seize the opportunity to take Grandpa’s body, Adrian’s icy voice drifted from inside. “The case is closed. To avoid any further complications, cremate the old man immediately.” A roar erupted in my ears. The next second, I stumbled, forcing my numb knees to carry me forward, bursting into the room. Adrian’s face flashed with panic when he saw me. He quickly adjusted his clothes, then shielded Grandpa’s body. He spoke first, angrily: “Why are you here, instead of preparing compensation money? Still trying to play your slanderous games against Bethany?!” I articulated each word precisely: “Without family consent, a body cannot be cremated. I am taking Grandpa’s body for a new autopsy!” Adrian burst into laughter, as if I had told the funniest joke. “What if you don’t consent?” he sneered. “You’re so naive. Don’t you understand by now? The Vance family holds immense power in Metropolis. You, a pauper, can’t fight them!” “Let this be the end of it. I can still, out of consideration for our past, continue our life together.” Then he smiled like a demon from hell. “Someone, take the body. Cremate it immediately!” 3 My heart instantly felt constricted by a giant hand, the pain tearing through me. My eyes burned red as I glared at Adrian. Grandpa had given his all for him. In all our years of marriage, I understood his hard work, handling all the chores myself. Grandpa, to help him maintain appearances, had even given him most of his retirement savings to buy high-end watches. How could he, again and again, block every path to justice for Grandpa? Enraged, I slapped him directly across the face. Adrian stood stunned. Bethany frowned and pushed me, and a bodyguard kicked me to the ground. “Do you think you can just hit my man, Eleanor?” I lay sprawled on the floor, my chest aching, unable to speak. Adrian regained his composure, his gaze chillingly cold. “Bethany, she’s beyond reform. Let her watch the old man get cremated herself.” My fury surged, and I screamed, “No!” Then I violently coughed up a mouthful of dark blood. Adrian’s eyes flashed with panic, then were instantly replaced by anger. The bodyguards tossed me into the crematorium like a sack of garbage. Grandpa’s body was right beside me, but I was firmly held down, unable to reach him no matter how I struggled. Tears streamed down my face again as I watched, helpless, as Grandpa’s body was fed into the incinerator. The flames instantly roared to life, tongues of fire ravenously consuming Grandpa’s form. I screamed curses at Adrian and Bethany, who stood beside me, smiling. Adrian grabbed my stained, long hair, and with all his might, slapped me, then forced my head to face the fiery furnace. “Look closely. If you don’t behave, you’ll end up like this too.” Blood filled my mouth, mixing with tears as I swallowed, a grotesque, bitter laugh escaping me: “Impossible… I will make you all pay… I will, I will avenge Grandpa!” Adrian chuckled. “All the evidence has been scrubbed. How will you get revenge?” “Just be a docile housewife, and I’ll continue to provide for you. Don’t let me catch you opposing Bethany again, or I will divorce you. Without me, who would want you, a used woman I’ve tossed aside?” Years ago, when my mother was severely injured and became comatose, Adrian had persuaded me to quit my high-paying job to become a stay-at-home wife, claiming it was to better care for her. To compensate Adrian, I did everything to maintain our home, allowing him to focus on his work. But I never imagined people could change so much… Watching him walk away, the last sliver of affection I held for him slowly vanished. The flames in the incinerator died down. I stifled my tears and collected Grandpa’s ashes. As I prepared to bury him, my phone suddenly rang. “Ms. Hayes, your mother’s condition has improved. Please come to the hospital immediately…” I immediately grabbed the urn and flew to the hospital. The moment I pushed open the door, I froze—Bethany Vance’s hand rested on my mother’s oxygen tube, leisurely playing with it, twisting it. I roared, charging at her, but a bodyguard kicked me to the ground, pinning me. Bethany smiled, then yanked the oxygen tube free. “Your mother should have died ages ago! Your parents, investigating organ trafficking, dared to look into the Vance family? Do you know, your beloved husband, Adrian Fairchild, was the one who leaked their undercover identities?!” “I pitied your father, his organs carved out, so I was kind enough to let your mother cling to life for a few more days! But you’re so ungrateful, aren’t you?” “Well then, your mother can’t stay alive either.” 4 My breath hitched. My parents were undercover police officers, outwardly posing as small shopkeepers. Adrian only learned of their true identities after we married. I never, in my wildest nightmares, imagined that the person who killed my parents would be the man I loved most, my husband! Hatred surged in my chest. I struggled desperately. “You beast! Are you even human?! Stop it, you hear me?! Stop! You’re a disgrace to your profession…” My mother’s face, already pale, turned purple. The EKG monitor shrieked, its urgent beeps echoing the chaos. Bethany sneered, and the EKG line flatlined. My body went limp, my mouth agape, unable to breathe, only tears streaming endlessly. Bethany clapped her hands, casually saying, “Looks like Adrian will have to deal with another body for me. Good thing he’s so practiced~” When Adrian pushed the door open, he hadn’t expected to see me. His footsteps faltered. I glared viciously as he approached my mother’s body, screaming, “Don’t touch my mother! You murderers!” Adrian’s cold gaze swept over me. “Your mother should have died years ago. If I hadn’t paid to keep her on life support all these years, would she be alive now?” “Don’t blame me. Blame her for getting in Bethany’s way.” I refused to let them take my mother’s body again, fighting with all my strength. But the harder I resisted, the more brutally I was beaten. As Adrian left with my mother’s body, he glanced back at me. “Stop struggling. Your mother is dead, so be it. I’ll continue to provide for you from now on.” “As long as you drop all this, we can still be a loving couple.” I forced open my swollen eyelids and spat blood at him. “You’re dreaming!” Bethany laughed, throwing herself into Adrian’s arms. “Brother, why waste words on this foolish woman? If a woman’s disobedient, a beating sets her straight~ Brother, you’re not going soft on her, are you?” Adrian shot a glance at the bodyguards. “Hit her!” Then he turned and left, his face impassive, leaving only the order: “Break her spirit, but don’t kill her.” My mother’s body was taken away. I lay on the floor of the hospital room, my limbs brutally broken, barely clinging to life. I refused to give up, clinging to my last breath after they left, searching for my mother’s body. But all I found, in the end, was a handful of ashes. Numbly, I carried the ashes back to my parents’ old house. Inside, it was a mess. The lock had been pried open, and all my parents’ belongings were strewn outside. A neighbor, unable to bear it, spoke up. “Little Eleanor, why are you shaking them down when you could be living a decent life? Your husband had to sell your house to compensate Dr. Vance just to cover for you. Your husband has been good to your family. From now on, you better serve him well and give him plenty of healthy sons.” Bloodied, I forced a bitter smile. “Serve him? He killed my whole family! I will avenge this, no matter what!” The neighbor stiffened, muttered, “Ungrateful wretch,” and quickly slammed her door shut. I ignored her, despairingly picking up my parents’ belongings piece by piece. Then my phone rang. Adrian’s cold voice came through: “You have nothing now. From now on, you can only rely on me. Want to come back home? Then forget everything that happened. Otherwise, go wander the streets.” I gritted my teeth. “Even if it costs me my life, I will pursue this to the end. I don’t believe you and the Vance family can control everything. I will get justice for my family!” Adrian scoffed. “Stubborn to the very end. I’d like to see who in all of Metropolis dares to help you, risking the Vance family’s wrath!” The call disconnected. I took a deep breath to steady myself. They treated human lives like dirt, persecuted the innocent. I refused to believe there was no justice in this world! I continued to pick up my parents’ belongings, accidentally knocking over a metal box. A yellowed letter fell out. It was Grandpa Hayes’ handwritten letter! Only after reading the letter did my tears finally stop. Grandpa Hayes was alive. And he was now the supreme head of a top-secret research facility. Bloodied and broken, clutching the ashes of my family and my parents’ commendations, I dialed Grandpa Hayes: “Grandpa, Mom… she’s gone. My entire family, laden with honors… now, all tortured to death by the Vance family! Eleanor only asks that you investigate, bring them justice…” The moment I finished, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth onto the urn. The person on the other end of the line paused, stunned. “My daughter… my sweet daughter, how could she be…” After a faint sniffle, Grandpa Hayes’ choked, restrained voice came through: “Officer Lee, go to Metropolis at once. Pick up my granddaughter… and the ashes of my daughter and son-in-law.” “Also, deploy personnel. Conduct a thorough investigation into the Vance family in Metropolis!” A quick response from the other end. Soon after, a dozen military jeeps pulled up downstairs.

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1 My daughter had been battling a debilitating illness for a decade. I, her mother, a leading biomedical pioneer, had finally spearheaded the team that developed the breakthrough drug to cure her. On the very day the drug was set for its clinical trial, a notification pinged on my research lab’s monitor. It was a video from the hospital, showing the treatment underway. A wave of relief washed over me. Finally, my Lily would be the first to escape the clutches of this disease, to reclaim her health. But as I clicked the video open, a cold dread began to coil in my gut. The girl receiving the experimental treatment on screen was not my daughter. Her chest bore the Global Innovation Medal, an honor I had personally designed and given to Lily. She wore the custom-designed princess gown, a lavish gift I’d commissioned for my sweet girl. But the face… it was a stranger’s. A profound unease settled over me. I instinctively switched on the live news broadcast. There, on every channel, was the girl, wearing my medal, holding the hand of an unfamiliar woman. She beamed at the camera, announcing, “I want to thank this incredible drug developer, my mom!” Inside that hospital room, amidst a chorus of praise for the imposter, my own daughter was huddled in a forgotten corner, draped in a flimsy, torn blanket. Then, a nurse brutally pulled her from view, dragging her by her matted hair. I choked on a gasp, my world dissolving into a suffocating rage. How dare they treat my daughter like that? Did they truly believe she had no one watching over her, no one to fight for her? I meticulously re-checked the experimental data. Yes, this batch of the synthesized drug was flawless, a triumph. Just then, my assistant, Marcus, knocked on my office door. “Dr. Hayes,” he announced, “the hospital we’re partnering with sent a video of your daughter’s treatment.” I immediately pushed aside my instruments, my heart thrumming with anticipation. I hadn’t been home in ages, consumed by this very research. Videos were my only window into Lily’s world. But the moment I clicked play, something felt profoundly wrong. The girl in the video was beautifully dressed, radiating a pretty, almost angelic charm. Around her neck hung the Global Innovation Medal—mine, a singular, unique achievement no one else in the world possessed. Yet, the girl wearing my medal wasn’t my daughter. A deep sense of bewilderment grew. I called Mark, my husband. “Sarah, honey, it’s amazing! Lily just got the new drug, and her vitals normalized instantly! Don’t you worry your head about a thing.” “Your student, Chelsea, is here, taking full charge of Lily’s treatment. Don’t you trust her?” “You just keep focusing on your groundbreaking research overseas, keep contributing to humanity! Lily just told me how grateful she is, said she wants to be just like you when she grows up!” Mark’s voice was filled with such conviction, yet the gnawing unease persisted. I switched on the television, tuning into the national news. My drug was a world-class masterpiece; every channel seemed to be broadcasting the story. The image that flashed on screen hit me like a physical blow. The “renowned pioneer” featured in the broadcast was Chelsea Greene, my very own student. And there, in the corner of the hospital room, my Lily was being dragged out by her hair by a hospital staff member! A wave of panic surged through me. I frantically dialed Lily’s attending physician, my voice trembling as I demanded to know how they dared to do such a thing. “Hello, this is Lily Hayes’ mother…” Before I could finish, Dr. Peterson, the attending physician, sighed heavily. “Mrs. Hayes, I know what you’re going to say, but the hospital has to make money too. Stopping treatment was an unavoidable choice, unless you can pay the overdue medical bills.” “You need to understand, Lily’s treatment has been in arrears for three years now. If it weren’t for Dr. Greene’s benevolence, considering you were under her tutelage, and her willingness to subsidize your daughter five hundred dollars a month, your daughter’s treatment would have been stopped three years ago.” “So, that’s the situation. Either you pay up, or you wait for your daughter to succumb to her illness. The hospital genuinely can’t do anything more.” Dr. Peterson hung up, leaving me utterly stunned. Three years of overdue medical bills? Under Dr. Greene’s tutelage? The pieces clicked into place, chillingly, as I remembered Chelsea Greene’s face on the television. Because I had spent so long abroad, conducting research, maintaining a private profile, Chelsea Greene had audaciously taken my place, impersonating me. And she had used the breakthrough drug I developed for my daughter, on her daughter! My heart ached with pain, burning with a searing rage. All thoughts of my research vanished. “Marcus! Book me the first flight home! I’m going back to the States, now!” 2 I landed back in the States that very day and rushed straight to the hospital. I was going to see, with my own eyes, who dared mistreat my daughter when the real Dr. Sarah Hayes stood before them. But the moment I stepped through the hospital’s main entrance, I ran straight into my husband, Mark Hayes. Mark visibly flinched when he saw me, his pupils dilating in shock. “Sarah, honey, what are you doing back so suddenly? You didn’t even say anything…” He stammered, offering a strained, nervous laugh, while subtly tugging at his collar. I caught a glimpse of a tell-tale hickey peeking out from beneath. I smiled, a cold, brittle curve of my lips. “Oh, I decided to surprise you, darling.” Whether it would be a pleasant surprise or a devastating shock would depend entirely on what he’d been up to while I was away. I deliberately traced a finger over the red mark on his neck. “Mosquitoes are quite aggressive here, aren’t they?” “Haha, yeah, they sure are. Got bit without even noticing. Looks a bit… suggestive, doesn’t it? Good thing you’re so sharp, honey.” He quickly changed the subject. “Speaking of which, I even bought Lily the world’s best mosquito repellent! She just loved it.” Hearing him mention Lily, my brow furrowed imperceptibly. I kept my voice even. “I saw something on TV today. What happened to our daughter’s custom gown? Did it get a knock-off version?” I even pulled out my phone, showing him a screenshot. The girl in the photo bore a striking resemblance to Chelsea Greene, but every single accessory she wore belonged to Lily: the diamond tiara, the sapphire necklace. Seeing those cherished items adorning another girl’s body made my heart bleed. My Lily, who should have been cherished and pampered, had been left neglected and abused under Mark and Chelsea Greene’s supposed care. Meanwhile, this child, with no real ties to us, had usurped my daughter’s place, not only stealing her life but even receiving her experimental treatment and giving interviews to reporters. Faced with the photo, Mark’s composure crumbled into a panicked mess, but he desperately tried to hide it from me, forcing a strained calm. “That’s Chelsea Greene’s daughter, Tiffany, honey. You’ve been away so long, you might not know, but Tiffany and our Lily are the best of friends.” “Lily often gives Tiffany her things. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. If she could give away people, I suspect she’d give us away too, haha!” “Is that so?” I asked, my gaze piercing him. Mark stiffened. “Sarah, what’s wrong? Your expression is so… strange.” I fought to keep my voice steady, enduring his blatant lies. “You’d better be clear. I’m back now. You remember what happens when you lie to me.” “Where is our daughter, really? And all those medical funds I sent for her over the years, where did they actually go?!” Mark hadn’t expected me to bring up the medical bills. He froze, utterly dumbfounded. But he still desperately tried to salvage the situation. “I gave it all to the hospital! Sarah, we’ve been together for so long, don’t you trust me?” “Are you implying that Lily hasn’t gotten better all these years because I didn’t pay her medical bills? That’s an outrageous accusation.” “You know Lily’s illness is hard to treat. Besides, Lily is such a handful, always afraid of needles and refusing to take her medicine. Even eating requires constant coaxing. She’s just been spoiled rotten, that’s why she hasn’t improved all these years.” I stared at him, my voice chillingly low. “You think I don’t know my own daughter’s temperament? Are you trying to slander her?” Lily, though sick from a young age, had always been exceptionally well-behaved and considerate. Even when she was first learning to eat, she never caused me a moment’s worry. As for taking medicine or getting shots, she would often turn around and comfort me, telling me it didn’t hurt, and that I shouldn’t be sad. How could such a sweet child possibly be the spoiled, temperamental girl Mark described? Mark quailed under my glare, reduced to a meek, deferential silence. “Where is my daughter?!” I demanded. Mark quickly summoned someone to lead me to Lily’s room. The room was lavish, yet everything inside was adorned in saccharine pinks. My daughter had never liked pink. Lily sat on the bed, dressed in an ill-fitting, but clean, hospital gown. Her eyes were red-rimmed when she saw me, her expression a mix of longing to rush into my arms and a deep-seated fear. “Mommy…” That single, soft word shattered my heart. I lunged forward, scooping her into a desperate embrace. But the moment I held her, Lily cried out in pain. Realizing something was terribly wrong, I lifted the hem of her oversized hospital gown. My daughter’s frail body was covered in bruises and cigarette burns. A wave of crushing pain swept through me. “What are these injuries?” Lily instinctively curled into a ball. “It’s… it’s just me being clumsy, Mommy. I accidentally did it…” “Don’t be scared, Lily. Tell Mommy who hurt you.” Lily shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t ask, Mommy. I can’t say. Please, don’t ask.” I held my child tightly, refusing to let go. To what extent had she been tormented, that she was afraid even to tell her own mother the truth? How much pain and humiliation had my Lily endured in all the years I was away? “Don’t be afraid,” I whispered, tears flowing freely as I gently stroked Lily’s hair. “Mommy’s back. From now on, Mommy will be here to protect you. You will never be bullied again.” I comforted her for a long time before Lily finally stopped crying. But the next second, the door to the hospital room was kicked open with a resounding crash. Standing in the doorway, a small girl, Tiffany Greene, glowered with unbridled fury. “Who let this unwanted little wretch into my room?!” “Didn’t I tell you to kick her out of the hospital this morning?” 3 I glared at the imperious little girl. She seemed utterly oblivious to my identity. “Who are you? And why are you with this little beggar in my room?” “Your room?” I scoffed, a cold sneer twisting my lips. This room had been custom-designed for Lily’s use even before I left the country. For this hospital, I had personally donated millions in cutting-edge equipment. “I don’t care who you are. Get out!” Tiffany Greene demanded, puffing out her chest. “And that little pest in your arms? If I see her here again, I swear I’ll choke her to death.” Her words ignited a furious blaze within me. But before I could react, Mark burst into the room. He quickly scooped up Tiffany, attempting to soothe her. “I’m so sorry, Sarah, honey. This is Chelsea Greene’s daughter, Tiffany. She has a… a slight mental issue and is receiving treatment here. Don’t listen to her nonsense.” “What are you talking about, Dad…?” Mark clapped a hand over Tiffany’s mouth, retreating from the room with a fawning smile directed at me. Only after they left did I realize Lily was trembling uncontrollably in my arms. She seemed terrified of Tiffany’s presence. “Lily?” Before Lily could answer, a nurse’s aide entered. “It’s time for Lily’s meal.” These people had been abusing my daughter. Why would they bother hiring an aide for her? When the aide presented the meal, Lily’s fear intensified. She clung to me, whimpering. “Don’t make me eat that, Mommy. I don’t want to eat that.” “Please, Mommy, anything but that. I’ll do anything you ask…” My daughter sobbed, tears streaming down her face, leaving me utterly bewildered. Lily had never cried during mealtime before. My gaze fixed on the food in the aide’s hand, and I suddenly understood. “Just leave the meal here. I’ll feed her myself in a bit.” “But, Mrs. Hayes…” “I said, leave it.” Though the aide was clearly reluctant, she complied. After she left, I gave the meal to Marcus, instructing him to get it tested. At the same time, I told him to pull the hospital’s security footage. I needed to know exactly what my daughter had endured here, why she was so weak and terrified. Marcus’s efficiency was commendable. But the contents of the hospital’s surveillance footage filled me with a regret that would haunt me forever. The screen showed horrific scenes: “This experimental drug should have gone to Miss Tiffany Greene! Why does the director’s memo have your name on it? It’s clearly a printing error!” “And that prestigious Global Innovation Medal you’re wearing? Did you steal it from Miss Tiffany Greene? Give it back! Your mother is just a student; how could she possibly own something like this?!” “Three years, not a single medical bill paid! What right do you have to even be in this hospital?!” I watched, horrified, as someone yanked my daughter’s hair, dragging her from her hospital bed. Then, they kicked her. My daughter struggled, crawling agonizingly across the floor. If she paused for even a moment, they would hit and kick her again. Amidst Lily’s cries of pain, Tiffany Greene appeared, a lit cigarette in her small hand. “So young, and already so rotten! No doubt your mom corrupted you.” I saw her press the burning tip of the cigarette onto my daughter’s back. Smoke rose. Lily’s raw scream of agony pierced through the screen, searing into my ears. Moments later, Marcus’s analysis of the meal came back. “Dr. Hayes, the lab results are in. These liquids contain growth-inhibiting agents. If injected into a person, they would become emaciated, their body growing progressively weaker…” My fingers dug into my palms, but I felt no pain. They dared to treat my daughter like this… Every single one of them. Every single person involved. I wouldn’t let a single one of them escape justice. Including Tiffany Greene, barely ten years old.

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On Valentine’s Day, Michael, my husband, surprised me with a colossal bouquet of roses. But a nearly identical arrangement, ordered by our son, Ethan, never arrived. The delivery driver had been in an accident. His fiancée, Chloe, mistook me for a mistress. She stormed my college reunion, ripped my clothes to shreds for all to see, and beat me within an inch of my life. When Michael tried to save me, they bound him too. “Girls, they say their love runs deep, don’t they? Let’s see just how deep it goes!” To protect me, Michael endured as they smashed bottle after bottle over his head. Just then, Ethan burst in. Seeing two bloody, battered figures, our son dropped to his knees, sobbing, “Mom! Dad!” It was only then that Chloe realized her world had imploded. 1 Our son, Ethan, who’d been living back home, was finally getting engaged. For years, Michael and I had carried the quiet ache of guilt, knowing we’d spent so little time with him. Even with his booming business keeping him swamped, Michael had insisted I return stateside to throw Ethan a truly grand engagement party. I’d cleared my schedule weeks in advance, flying back a full day early. Not only that, but I’d also prepared a significant gift for Chloe: the heirloom jade bangle passed down through generations of the Davis family. I’d barely landed when my phone buzzed with Michael’s call from overseas. “Happy Valentine’s, honey! I ordered you a bouquet online; it should be arriving at the hotel any minute now.” Michael and I had been married for years, and our bond remained as strong as ever. “Thank you, darling,” I’d purred, blowing a kiss into the phone. A moment later, I snapped a picture of the roses and posted it to my social media. I often shared glimpses of my life abroad, and I’d built up quite a following. Sarah, a dear friend from college, had organized a reunion dinner the moment she heard I was back. On the way to the restaurant, I idly scrolled through my feed, and there it was—Ethan’s public display of affection. “The most beautiful roses for the most beautiful you, my love!” The accompanying photo featured a bouquet identical to the one Michael had sent me. I chuckled, shaking my head. Like father, like son—their taste was truly uncanny. I liked the post, adding a comment, “Wishing you and Chloe a lifetime of happiness!” Ethan replied almost instantly: “You’re my favorite woman too, Mom.” My fingers flew over the keyboard: “Being your dad’s favorite is more than enough. Save your complete love for your wife, that’s what truly matters.” I wanted my son to have a small, happy family just like ours. “Linda’s really made it big, hasn’t she?” one classmate murmured. “Well, she married well! Her husband’s not just rich, he’s thoughtful. Still sending flowers after all these years!” “It’s enough to make you sick with envy. My husband never sent me a bouquet that big, not even when we were dating.” “Linda, you’re so lucky! You’ll have to share your secret to keeping the romance alive.” Old friends, reunited, were a whirlwind of chatter and warmth. I smiled. “No problem.” Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside the private dining room. “You home-wrecker! Get out here! So brave to steal someone’s boyfriend, but too chicken to show your face?” “You wretched witch! I know you’re in there! You think hiding will protect you, you relationship-destroying trash?” The room fell silent for a beat, then buzzed with renewed whispers. “Sounds like a girlfriend catching her man cheating.” “These young people today, honestly. Back in our day, things weren’t such a mess.” “What’s that saying? ‘Back when cars were slow, you only loved one person for life’?” “Why does it sound like she’s yelling at someone in here?” Sarah scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. We’re all old friends here, we know each other. She must have the wrong room. Let’s just ignore her.” “You trash! You think staying inside will save you? Come on, girls, let’s go in there and drag that woman out!” Suddenly, the door burst open. A group of furious young women stormed in. Sarah immediately stepped forward, trying to mediate. “Excuse me, ladies, but I think you have the wrong place. We’re having a college reunion here.” “Wrong? How could we be wrong? Even if that bitch burned to ashes, I’d still recognize her!” Under the stunned gaze of everyone in the room, her eyes narrowed, locking onto me with pure venom. In an instant, every single person’s attention swiveled to me. “Me? Young lady, you must be mistaken. I just flew back from overseas today, and I’ve never seen you before in my life.” “She’s right, girls. My friend has lived abroad for years. There must be some misunderstanding.” “No misunderstanding.” She pulled out her phone, bringing up my social media profile. “Everyone, look! Isn’t this her account? That bouquet she just posted? That was my boyfriend’s Valentine’s gift to me! Somehow, this hussy snatched it, and then she had the nerve to flaunt it online!” “Wait, what? Linda’s flowers were from another guy?” “No wonder! What old married couple celebrates Western holidays like that?” “Exactly! I asked my husband what Valentine’s Day was, and he didn’t even know!” “I can’t believe Linda. All that talk about her perfect marriage, and behind our backs, she’s playing games like this!” The classmates who had just been so warm and friendly now turned on me, their expressions hardening. “And now, my boyfriend and I are about to get engaged, and you’re still clinging to him!” The young woman pointed at me, her voice thick with emotion, big tears streaming down her face. I’d been abroad for so long, and aside from Sarah, I’d barely kept in touch with anyone back home. I racked my brain, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out who I supposedly “seduced.” 2 Sarah immediately stepped forward, defending me fiercely. “You lot better watch what you’re saying! Linda and I were roommates in college. We know exactly what kind of person she is. I don’t believe she’d ever do something like this.” “People change, you know. After all these years, who knows what she’s become?” “Yeah, I heard things are pretty wild overseas. Maybe she and her husband have an open marriage, doing their own thing?” “Young lady, how old is your boyfriend? Linda’s probably old enough to be his mother!” Sarah’s face went cold. “You all are going too far. Linda helped every single one of you when you were in trouble! Your son had leukemia, didn’t have money for chemo? Linda sent money from abroad! And you, you got laid off? Linda used her connections to find you a job! Your daughter’s school application? Linda pulled strings for that too! You can’t be so heartless!” If Sarah hadn’t brought it up, I honestly would have forgotten those details. “Oh, look at you, Linda hasn’t even said anything, but you’re already so worked up. Linda must have given you quite a few perks over the years, huh?” “Yeah, Linda’s really got a loyal dog.” “Come on, let’s get out of here. Being friends with someone like this is just embarrassing.” “Everyone, come take a look! This old woman is that online ‘socialite’ who lives abroad! For years, she’s been harassing my boyfriend through social media, and tomorrow, my boyfriend and I are getting engaged, so she flew back from overseas just to stop it!” Hearing the commotion, diners from other tables flocked over, forming a curious circle. “Let’s see what kind of mistress is so shameless!” “Mistress? More like a ‘grand-mistress’!” “Don’t be scared, sweetheart! We’re all with you! We’ll make sure this brazen hussy has nowhere to hide!” The young woman cried to the crowd, “This vixen used who-knows-what tricks to snatch the bouquet my boyfriend ordered for me right off the delivery truck!” I forced myself to remain calm. “Young lady, there must be a misunderstanding. Those flowers were from my husband.” “Hear that, everyone? This old woman is already calling my boyfriend ‘husband’!” “She’s absolutely shameless! At her age, she still can’t behave!” “Stealing someone else’s gift and then flaunting it online? That’s just too brazen!” “Look, isn’t this old woman’s social media account?” “Yep, that’s her! She’s always posting pictures of gifts. Who knows how many men sent them to her!” “I’m reporting her! I hate women who play the field!” “It’s a misunderstanding, there must be a misunderstanding. Young lady, what’s your boyfriend’s name?” I patiently tried to explain, my good upbringing still guiding my tone. The girl raised an eyebrow. “You know who you’ve been seducing, don’t you? Or have you been flirting with so many men you can’t keep track?” Engagement. Flowers. It was only then, in my panic, that the pieces clicked. This young woman thought I was my own son’s mistress. I forced a laugh. “You’re Chloe Anderson, aren’t you? And your boyfriend is Ethan, right?” I’d been living abroad, and due to visa issues, Ethan had tried to bring Chloe to visit us many times, but it never worked out. This was, in fact, my first time meeting Chloe in person. Chloe’s eyebrow shot up. “So now you’re not playing dumb! See, everyone? She not only knows my boyfriend’s name, but she knows I exist! She’s deliberately trying to interfere in my relationship with my boyfriend!” 3 The crowd erupted, their anger fueled. “She’s absolutely shameless! With so many men in the world, why does she have to steal someone else’s?” “At her age, she’s still so brazen!” “My own husband was stolen by an older woman! Every mistress in the world deserves to rot!” Chloe’s aggressive demeanor was starting to chafe. Ethan had spoken of her often during our calls, describing her as kind and gentle, someone who wouldn’t even step on an ant. The girl in front of me was clearly not the person he’d described. “Chloe, I know you’re upset right now, but shouldn’t you at least hear me out?” “Hear you out? What is there to explain? Girls, she’s the mistress who’s been messing with Ethan and me. Let’s teach her a lesson together!” As soon as Chloe finished speaking, the girls who had stormed in with her surrounded me. “Alright, today we’ll show this hussy what happens when you try to steal someone’s boyfriend!” “How dare she mess with our friend? She must have a death wish!” Sarah, flustered, stepped in front of me. “What do you think you’re doing?” The girls shoved Sarah out of the room, then locked the door from the inside. “Get out of our way!” “You old hag! You think you’re so charming, do you? At your age, still clinging to Ethan like a parasite!” She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. I was caught off guard and took the full force of the blow. “Chloe, this is a misunderstanding! I’m not Ethan’s mistress. I flew back specifically to attend your engagement ceremony. I’m his—” I swallowed my rising anger and tried to explain. Before I could even utter the word “mother,” Chloe lunged forward, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “You vixen! You must have found out about my engagement to Ethan and deliberately flown back from overseas to ruin it, didn’t you?” Chloe yanked my hair, pulling with all her might. A searing pain shot through my scalp; it felt like my skin was tearing away from my skull. “You shameless witch! Of all the men to steal, you just had to go after my friend’s!” Then, a heavy punch landed square on my eye socket. Stars exploded in my vision, and a sharp, throbbing pain pierced through half of my face. I’d never encountered such a situation in my life. I quickly tried to explain, “Stop, all of you! This is a misunderstanding! I’m not a mistress!” The girls grabbed my arms, pinning me down onto my knees. “You brazen bitch! Ethan’s flowers were delivered straight to you, and you still dare say you’re not his mistress?” “You really think your fox tail is so well hidden? I’ve seen you frequently interacting with Ethan on social media for ages!” “And at your age, calling my boyfriend ‘sweetheart’? Aren’t you disgusted with yourself? You’re old enough to be Ethan’s mother!” Chloe crossed her legs, sitting leisurely before me. With every word, she kicked me hard in the chest. “Chloe, I really am not Ethan’s mistress—” Before I could finish, the other girls started to jeer. “She’s right, she’s not a mistress. She’s an old mistress!” A burst of laughter rippled through the group. “Exactly! A dried-up old mistress!” “Ethan must have some really peculiar taste. What does this old woman have that Chloe doesn’t? Even if he’s cheating, couldn’t he at least find someone better looking?” “Don’t you know? Men like to try anything they haven’t tasted before!” They continued their barrage of kicks and punches. The vulgar words flowed into my ears, one after another, their sheer malice washing away any goodwill I might have had left for Chloe. A sudden, sweet taste filled my throat. I gagged, then spat out a mouthful of blood.

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Twenty minutes before the ceremony, I found a letter stitched into the lining of my wedding dress. It was from another woman. To my groom. If you love me, sew this into her dress. Let her be a stand-in. Remember, your bride is just a substitute. You belong only to me. Good morning, good afternoon, good night to you, even if we can only love in secret. Ten years of shared life, of dreams, shattered into dust in an instant. 1 The pristine white paper fluttered from my grasp, my hands trembling violently. The intricate butterfly design on my bridal manicure suddenly felt like a garish mockery. Layers of tulle pooled at my feet as I reached into the dress’s hidden seam and pulled out the letter – a tiny envelope, stitched with white thread, clumsy yet deliberate stitches. This was… a secret pact between my groom and someone else. The handwriting was dainty, the closing adorned with a heart, intertwining his nickname with hers: Ethie love Skylar Let your bride be me… Secretly in love… I mouthed the words, my throat choked as if stuffed with waterlogged cotton. Who was she? Who was Skylar? Today’s bride was me, wasn’t she? The wedding I’d waited ten years for—how had it become her emotional stand-in? A woman who didn’t even dare show her face, trying to stake her claim at my wedding? A shiver of icy dread ran through me. I suddenly remembered last night – Nathan had chuckled, as he took my dress, “Of course, we’ll get a special shot of Coraline’s dress. Imagine us on the couch, sixty years from now, looking at these photos. How romantic!” Then, I’d bubbled with pure joy. Now, the memory felt like a cruel twist of the knife. My fingertips grazed the rough, uneven stitches on the letter, and my eyes stung with sudden tears. My groom, with his own hands, had sewn his mistress’s love letter into my wedding dress, allowing her to “marry” him in this grotesque way. And I? I was just a placeholder, a shadow to be replaced. 2 A searing agony shot through me, buckling my knees. I crumpled to the floor, the tiny crystals on the dress digging into my skin, a cruel reminder of my glittering illusion. Only fifteen minutes until my grand entrance. How could I tell everyone? How could I explain that the man I loved, the man who was publicly marrying me, was secretly welcoming another woman into his heart? I’d been buzzing with excitement for this wedding for six months. My dress was custom-made by Leo, a designer friend overseas. He’d poured half a year into crafting this haute couture piece. The simple sweep of the skirt was adorned with hand-embroidered “Forever.” Countless sleepless nights, I’d secretly traced those silken threads, believing this was the final punctuation mark on ten years of love, a joyful comma leading to a lifetime of happiness. Now, it was the most sickening mockery. “Coraline! You’re on! Why aren’t you in your dress yet?” Juliette, my best friend, pounded on the door, her voice laced with urgency. I took a deep breath, then pulled the door open. I stood in nothing but a nude-colored slip, my veil, jewelry, and hair accessories all ripped off, my hair a wild cascade around my shoulders. “Coraline? You…” Juliette’s camera clattered to the floor. She had intended to capture my graceful entrance. “What happened? Does the dress not fit? Do we need to delay?” “Don’t touch me!” I yanked my arm from her grasp and walked barefoot toward the main wedding hall. I was going to the center stage, to rip this farce open with my own hands. 3 Staff in the corridor gasped, rushing to stop me, but I pushed them all aside. As my hand brushed the ornate carvings on the grand hall doors, a dull ache pierced my chest. I had meticulously chosen these doors myself, the carved roses meant to echo the “Forever” on my dress. Now, they seemed like a thousand sneering mouths, mocking my foolishness. My nails dug into my palms as I strode through the throng. With every step, the excited murmur of the crowd dimmed. By the time I stood barefoot on the stage, the entire hall fell silent, the guests’ stunned stares like countless needles pricking my skin. No one dared to speak. No one knew what to do. How strange, indeed, for a bride to appear barefoot, in only a slip, her hair disheveled. My parents and Nathan’s parents were the first to rush forward, forming a barrier in front of me. Juliette tried to grab me from behind, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Coraline! Are you out of your mind?” “What’s going on? Juliette, what happened to Coraline? Why isn’t she dressed?” My parents were frantic. My mom surged forward, trying to shield me from the gawking eyes. I smiled faintly at her. “Mom, it’s okay. If I don’t lay it all bare now, the humiliation will only be worse later.” The emcee on stage looked around desperately, hoping someone would tell him what to do. Beside him stood the man I had loved for ten years: Nathan Miller. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his hair neatly combed, his posture tall and confident. This was the man I had dreamed of marrying countless times… I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I cried out his nickname. “Ethie!” Nathan flinched, his body stiffening. Then he turned sharply, his gaze falling upon my expressionless face. 4 I pushed past my parents and stepped forward, meeting Nathan’s eyes, calm and unwavering. Like the emcee, he instinctively glanced left and right, trying to comprehend the scene. “Coraline?” He rubbed his eyes. When the reality dawned on him, he immediately pulled me into his arms, shielding me. “Coraline! You’re not dressed! Why are you only in your slip?” He looked back at the stunned audience, at the countless eyes fixed on us. Quickly, he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around me, then bent down, reaching for my feet. “Coraline, the floor is freezing! Why are you barefoot? What happened? What is this all about?” He frowned, his eyes filled with apparent concern, as if nothing mattered but my well-being. I let his tall frame cocoon me, but my voice was cold as I asked, “Is it because her name is Skylar, that you go by Ethie, huh?” His hands, reaching for my feet, froze in mid-air. “Nathan Miller, how many years have you been lying to me?” “Who are you marrying today? Me, or that Skylar? The woman you fantasized about beneath my wedding dress—was it me, or her? The one you stood here waiting for—was it me, or her? You looked at me, but your heart was with her, wasn’t it? You put her things in my wedding dress, and you imagined she was standing here, didn’t you? Nathan, you play a cruel game.” I clearly saw the veins pulsing in his neck, his temples flaring crimson and purple. My voice, loud and sharp, carried through the emcee’s microphone, echoing across the silent hall. I didn’t need to say more; anyone with a brain had already understood the situation. “Nathan Miller, we’re done. I want a divorce!” “I don’t want you anymore.” With that, I slapped him across the face, tore off his jacket, tossed it to the ground, and turned to walk away. Confetti, scattered in joyous celebration, now pricked the soles of my feet. A dull ache, yet nothing compared to the agony in my heart. A roar erupted from the crowd. Someone started demanding what was going on. My parents and his parents rushed forward, flailing their arms, trying to explain to the bewildered guests. They turned back, shouting at Nathan, asking what he had done. What had he done? He had made a clown of me at my own wedding! I bolted, running as fast as I could. Nathan chased after me, his voice tearing through the air. “Coraline! Let me explain! Coraline! It’s not what you think… Skylar, she’s dead!” 5 I stopped, just for a few seconds. Nathan caught up, grabbing me, forcefully turning me to face him. “She’s been dead for ages! You didn’t even know me when she died, and she was only ten! She was just a child! She’s not my mistress! Please, listen to me!” Ten years old…? A ten-year-old girl? Was that even plausible? “It’s not because she’s Skylar that I go by Ethie. It’s because I go by Ethie that she gave herself the name Skylar! She was infatuated with me!” “But I never felt anything for her. She was just a child! She didn’t understand anything, she just idolized an older brother! When she said she wanted to marry me, it was just a child’s innocent remark. I couldn’t bear to tell a sick child what the real world was like!” My legs went weak, and I slumped into his embrace, my heart colder than it had been moments before. “Really? Why did you never tell me?” “For a long time, I wondered why you’d call yourself Ethie. What grown man uses a nickname like that? So it was to match Skylar, then, was it? Nathan, you never told me that.” The wind outside wasn’t cold, just a gentle caress, as comfortable as the day Nathan and I made our relationship official. That day, he was playing basketball. Mid-game, he suddenly ran toward me, ball still in his arms. “Coraline, I can’t hold it in anymore! I can’t stand it! I have to tell you! I like you! I like you! I like you! I love you!” The sweat was still fresh on his face, radiating youthful vigor. My cheeks flushed scarlet, and I turned my back, too shy to respond. He pressed on, “Coraline, do you dare to make a bet with me? A bet that we’ll be together forever!” And somehow, I found my courage too, telling him I dared. Our mutual affection found its outcome, and from that day on, I began to dream of our wedding. Ten years. I never once thought of wanting anyone else, and it was only natural to assume the same of him. A young Skylar, idolizing an older brother. A sick, naive girl uttering childish words. An older brother, out of kindness, not refuting her innocent dreams, promising to fulfill her wishes if she got better. What a touching, heartwarming story. But if Nathan was only trying to comfort Skylar, why, ten years later, would he actually sew the girl’s letter into my wedding dress? Why would he still be so fixated on a child? 6 He explained, swearing he was telling the absolute truth. “Nathan Miller, I don’t believe you. Do you understand? I. Don’t. Believe. You!” I pulled away from him again. “I’m divorcing you. We’re getting a divorce!” Nathan’s parents’ voices reached us from behind. “Coraline, you’re being so childish!” “We’ve invited all our friends and family today! On a day like this, what are you doing causing such a scene?! My son has already explained everything. What are you still being so dramatic about? Barefoot and in your underwear – don’t you have any shame? You’re not just embarrassing yourself, you’re disgracing the Miller name!” I was astonished. Nathan’s parents had always been polite and respectful towards me. We’d known each other for ten years; they were like my own parents. I’d always felt completely at ease with them. “You’ve been married for three days, and you want a divorce? Are you trying to drag my son down? You might not care, but he has a reputation to uphold! What will people say? Married three days and his wife ran off!” Who was running off? Me? Wait, why did it sound like I was the one who cheated? My parents caught up. My dad, stern and formidable, immediately pushed back against them. “That’s not fair, is it? Marriage is between two people. If Nathan has done something truly awful, my daughter has every right to end the marriage. It’s not for you two to come barking orders here!” My mom and dad shielded me. My mom draped her jacket over my shoulders. “Coraline, don’t worry. Your mom knows there must be a reason for this. Your dad and I are here for you!” My mom whispered comfort, and my heart found solid ground. Tears, suddenly, streamed down my face. The pent-up, suppressed hurt of the last few minutes crashed over me like a torrential downpour, leaving me gasping for air. I wrapped my arms around my mom’s neck, no longer able to hold back the sobs. Nathan, meanwhile, was telling his parents to shut up, kneeling on the ground, swearing he had never cheated. His words were fervent, so earnest that if I hadn’t recognized the handwriting, I might have believed him. The letter was small, the handwriting tiny, but I still knew whose it was. I was certain. There was no ten-year-old child. Skylar was his mistress. Nathan had just spun a blatant lie.

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The day the Davies family faced bankruptcy, Finn Davies agreed to an engagement with me, all for a hundred million dollars. But on Valentine’s Day, he stood me up at the amusement park, leaving me to wait alone. It wasn’t until late that night that I happened to scroll past a social media post from his private account—an ultrasound scan, clearly bearing the name of his “first love,” Lily Green. Immediately after, Finn’s message popped up: “I’ve given you the engagement. I can’t choose my wife, but who my mistress is, is none of your business. Lily is pregnant. In public, I’ll be your fiancé. In private, I will only be the father of her child. You must make four days available each week for me to care for Lily and her child, otherwise, don’t even think about having the wedding!” Reading the words on the screen, I let out a furious laugh. Did he really think I had begged for this engagement? He had no idea, men lining up to marry into the Lane family stretched from London to Paris! At the engagement party, ninety-nine elite gentlemen from the city’s wealthiest families stood in a neat row, awaiting my choice. I waved my hand, and announced, “Let’s play rock-paper-scissors. Whoever wins gets the spot.” 1 On Valentine’s Day, a torrential downpour, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in a century, lashed down. I stood outside the amusement park entrance for a full ten hours, drenched to the bone and shivering, until my father’s driver finally picked me up. On the way home, I kept refreshing my chat screen, filled with unread video calls I’d made to Finn. He hadn’t even replied to a single message. As the car pulled into the driveway, my father, his face grim, helped me out. “What’s so special about that Davies boy? Worth standing in the rain for ten hours? The contract’s signed, the hundred million is in the account. Why can’t you see him for who he is…” My father’s words trailed off. I trembled, reaching out to pat his hand. “You’re right, Dad. I don’t want Finn Davies anymore. Someone so ungrateful isn’t worth my sadness.” My father’s comforting expression froze. He looked as if he doubted his own ears. “What did you say?” “I said I don’t want Finn Davies anymore. He humiliates me before we’re even engaged; what will he do after? You can bring out those ninety-nine blind dates you arranged. Let them play rock-paper-scissors. Whoever wins, I’ll marry. The Lane family doesn’t need a son-in-law with bad luck.” With that final word, my vision blurred, and I fainted. When I woke, I was in my bedroom. Finn sat by the bed, his face cold. Seeing me open my eyes, his expression darkened further. “Is this interesting to you? Just because I missed one date, you have to run and tell your family? Do you know Lily was suffering from severe morning sickness today, almost collapsing? In your eyes, is a human life less important than a single date?” He didn’t give me a chance to speak, rattling on like a machine gun. “I’ve already agreed to marry you. Lily is just someone I’m supporting outside. Can’t you tolerate even that? What else do you want? So possessive! Why don’t you just put a leash on my neck?!” When he finished his tirade, I looked at him calmly. “In your heart, is that truly how you see me?” My indifferent attitude completely infuriated him. He shot up, grabbing his hair in frustration. When he looked at me again, his voice was surprisingly softer. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that Lily has no one to look after her, and I’m worried. Her child is just an illegitimate one; it won’t threaten your position. Why do you have to target her? As long as you agree to give me four days a week to spend with Lily, the wedding will proceed as planned.” His features, once handsome in my eyes, were now utterly repulsive. I closed my eyes, turning my head away. “No need. I won’t marry you. You can spend all your time with her. Congratulations, you’re free.” “Easy to say! If you’re so brave, don’t use money to threaten me! What a hypocrite!” Finn flung those words, then left without a backward glance. Silent tears streamed down my face, soaking the pillow. My eight-year long unrequited love finally came to an end that night. 2 I didn’t sleep a wink, and by dawn, my fever had spiked to 102 degrees Fahrenheit. The housekeeper came with breakfast, touched my forehead, and screamed. My father rushed me to the hospital for an IV drip. The fever didn’t break for another two hours. As I was paying the bill alone, I unexpectedly saw Finn with Lily Green, who was there for a prenatal check-up. Lily leaned weakly into his embrace, her hands gently caressing her not-yet-prominent baby bump, a charming smile on her face. “Baby’s so good today, he didn’t give me any trouble. Do you think he heard what you said yesterday?” Finn’s face held a tenderness I had never seen directed at me. He dotingly pinched her nose. “My silly girl, the baby hasn’t even fully formed yet. How could he hear anything?” “I don’t care, I don’t care! He definitely can hear! You’re not allowed to say anything bad about my baby. My baby is definitely the smartest in the world.” Finn’s composure instantly vanished, and he agreed profusely. “Yes, yes, yes, Lily is always right. The child will take after you, smart and beautiful.” His peripheral vision caught my figure. Lily deliberately stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. I quickly hid behind the corner. My heart ached so much I could barely breathe. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to let go of my feelings for him. But my eyes still welled up, involuntarily. As I paid, Lily walked alone towards me, flashing the dazzling wedding ring on her finger. “Miss Lane, hello. I assume you already know who I am from yesterday. From now on, we’ll both be serving Finn, so I hope you’ll guide me.” The suppressed hurt I felt moments before erupted into anger. My face hardened. “You’re dirty yourself. Don’t assume everyone else is like you. ‘Serving a man?’ How can you even utter such base words? Finn may be a treasure in your eyes, but in mine, he’s less than human!” After paying, I turned to leave. But Lily suddenly grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards the ground. After a struggle, Lily screamed and fell to the floor, sobbing as she pleaded, “I’m sorry, Miss Lane, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have fought you for Finn. Please, please, don’t hurt my baby. The baby is innocent!” “I met Finn first. I can give him to you. I don’t want anything, I just want my baby to be born safely. Can’t even that be allowed?” Her cries attracted the attention of passersby. The patients’ families present pointed and whispered about me. “Stealing someone else’s man and acting righteous about it? Are mistresses this shameless now?” “I hate home-wreckers most in this life!” “Do you think money makes you invincible? What kind of strength is it to bully a pregnant woman? Apologize!” The torrent of insults drowned me. Before I could explain, Finn had rushed to my side. He pulled Lily into his embrace, then turned, glaring at me with a vicious look. “Alice Lane, were you following me? I already told you, Lily won’t threaten your position. Why can’t you leave her alone?” I looked up at him, my face a mask of disbelief. “I was following you? Finn Davies, are you insane? This is a hospital! I—” My words were cut short by his cold voice. “Enough! Alice Lane, do you know what I hate most about you? I hate how you look down on people just because you’re rich. There are so many people here. Is everyone blind?!” A cold, disdainful sneer curled his lips. “Money can buy an engagement, but it can’t buy true feelings! Alice Lane, someone like you will never find true love!” Watching Finn defend Lily, the crowd erupted in cheers. Finn straightened his back, his voice cold. “That riverside villa of yours, give it up. The air there is good, perfect for Lily to rest and recover during her pregnancy. Then this matter will be over.” 3 Fury devoured my reason, and my eyes instantly burned red. “Are you kidding me? That villa is my mother’s legacy! You want your mistress to live there? On what grounds?!” Lily sobbed hysterically, her voice choked with feigned injustice. “Finn, actually, Miss Lane isn’t—” “You don’t need to plead for her! I know exactly what kind of person she is! If she hadn’t interfered, we would have been married long ago!” With those words, he glared at me viciously, his eyes radiating endless disgust. “Just because you spent a hundred million, you think you can marry me.” My body swayed uncontrollably, and I almost collapsed. This was the man I had secretly loved for eight years. I could only blame myself for being so blind. I wanted to tell him I had already canceled the engagement and had no intention of targeting his Lily. But Finn didn’t give me a chance to speak. He simply ordered his bodyguards to drag me into the car. The Maybach sped towards the riverside. In the car, Finn held Lily tightly, glaring at me. “The key card? Hand it over.” “Dream on!” Finn’s face was so dark it could drip ink. He glanced at a bodyguard, who immediately understood and began to frisk me. “If you don’t know what’s good for you, don’t blame me for not giving you a chance!” My scream almost ripped through the car roof. Finn covered Lily’s eyes with his hand, not sparing me a single glance. Just recovering from a serious illness, I had little strength left. Now, my coat was completely torn by the bodyguard. The gauze dress underneath barely covered my body. My last shred of dignity was brutally trampled into the dirt. Tears of despair streamed from my eyes. It wasn’t until the bodyguard found my wallet that the nightmare finally ended. The key card was handed to Lily by Finn. The black card was given to his bodyguard. “Go to the nearby mall. Bring back everything in the baby store. Nothing under a thousand dollars. Don’t want to hurt the baby or Lily.” With that, he disgustedly wiped his hands with a tissue, as if my wallet were something filthy. The bodyguard was dropped off halfway. My fever relapsed, and I once again fell into a coma. Finn’s disgusted voice occasionally drifted into my ears. My body was kicked twice. “Stop pretending to be pathetic! Get up! Alice Lane, can’t you hear me? Don’t make me throw you out of the car! You’ll stop at nothing to gain sympathy. What, Lily’s pregnant and weak, are you pregnant too? Good. If you’re pregnant, I won’t have to honor the engagement. If you don’t get up now, do you believe I’ll call the Lane family?” Finn’s patience ran out, his face cold as ice. He picked up a cup, about to splash boiling hot tea on me. Lily quickly stopped him, her voice aggrieved. “Finn, Miss Lane doesn’t look like she’s faking it. Could something really have happened?” “Anyway, we haven’t driven far. Why don’t we take her back to the hospital?” Finn’s lips curled into a cold sneer, and he held Lily even tighter. “You’re too kind, that’s why she always walks all over you. People like Alice Lane will stop at nothing to achieve their goals. You don’t know her.” Lily pouted, tears welling in her eyes. “I thought you agreed to the engagement because you had some affection for Miss Lane. She just wanted to help you, you know?” Finn wiped away her tears, and kissed her forehead tenderly. “Affection? Disgust is more like it. If the Lane family wasn’t useful to me, why would I ever agree to marry someone like her? Once this crisis is over, I’ll divorce her immediately. I can’t stand Alice Lane’s temper for a single day! Then I’ll give you the grandest wedding in the world. We’ll take the baby and travel to Paris, okay? Seeing the Northern Lights sounds nice too.” Lily blushed, hiding in his embrace. Finn gently stroked her long hair, his gaze tender, then looked at the scars on her wrist. “Lily, thank you. Thank you for protecting me at school all those years ago. And thank you for giving me a child.” Lily’s expression stiffened, a flicker of panic in her eyes. “You still remember…” Eight years ago, Finn was just an illegitimate son of the Davies family. He endured endless humiliation and scorn from outsiders. The most serious incident was when he was kidnapped and knocked unconscious. The true heir of the Davies family had hired people to kill him. In his unconscious state, he heard a man’s scream. “Crazy! You’re absolutely insane!” When he woke, only Lily was by his side, her wrist still bleeding profusely. From then on, Lily became the most special person in his life. In an unnoticed corner, my body slid down the car seat. Beneath my torn outer garment, the ugly scars on my wrist were exposed. 4 Even after the car pulled into the villa, I remained unconscious. My cheeks were flushed with an unnatural redness. It was then that Finn finally noticed something was wrong. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a guest room. Through the open door, in the hallway, I saw Finn meticulously arranging Lily’s clothes with his own hands. His movements were incredibly gentle, as if he were handling not mere garments, but the most precious treasures in the world. I remembered the last time I went with my father to a Davies family banquet to discuss a business deal. I had playfully asked Finn to fasten my necklace for me. His face had been cold, and he had simply replied, “Don’t you have hands? I don’t touch women’s things.” I had thought that was just his personality. But today, I realized that mask was merely his disguise for how much he despised me. With Lily, he had no inhibitions. Noticing my gaze, Finn looked at me. Our eyes met, and his tenderness dissolved into ice. He quickly walked to my side, his voice cold. “To frame Lily, you’d even harm yourself?” I froze for a moment. His face darkened further. “What are you playing at? If you got sick here, would the Lane family let Lily off the hook?” I suddenly laughed, and as I laughed, tears streamed down my face. “Fine, then I’ll leave.” I threw off the covers and rose to go. His hand abruptly pushed me back down. “Stay put until you’re well. If you go back now, the Lane family will think I bullied you.” With that, Finn turned and left. Soon, laughter drifted up from downstairs. Finn was gently asking Lily what she wanted to eat. Lily was playfully nagging him, paying him no mind. My wavering heart suddenly died at that moment. He had his happiness; I would find my own love. He wanted freedom, so I would grant it to him. I quickly changed into a different set of clothes. I called for a taxi on my phone, preparing to leave the villa. But Lily suddenly knocked on the door. Stripping away her facade, her expression was triumphant and challenging. “Miss Lane, you don’t really think money is everything, do you? You might be rich enough, but Finn doesn’t even want to look at you. Marrying you was just a temporary solution. Guess what? Once the Davies family gets through this crisis, you might just find yourself kicked out.” I didn’t back down, staring straight at her. “Yes, money isn’t everything. But not having money is definitely a problem. Guess what? If my family withdraws its investment, will Finn protect you, or will he choose that hundred million?” Lily’s triumphant expression froze. I pressed closer. “Remember this: Finn wasn’t stolen by you. I, Alice Lane, gave him to you.” “A man whose heart isn’t with me? I don’t care to have him.” “And, about what happened at school all those years ago—” Before I could finish, Lily’s face suddenly turned cold. “Shut up!” “I don’t need you to ‘give’ him to me! Your stubbornness is useless. We’re all women, do you think I can’t see through you? Your heart must be shattered, right? I don’t mind helping you out again!” She turned and forcefully slammed into a nearby wardrobe. A scream erupted. Finn kicked open the door, then slapped me across the face. “What did you do?” Lily collapsed into his arms, pleading repeatedly, “Miss Lane, I already apologized to you! Why are you doing this to me? Finn, I don’t want to be a hidden mistress anymore! Let me go, please! I just want to live…” Finn’s veins throbbed on his forehead, his anger reaching its peak. “Alice Lane, get out! Get out!” There was no emotional pain, just a sense of mockery. “Finn Davies, this is my house! You’re the ones who should get out!” As if he hadn’t expected me to say that, intense hatred blazed in his eyes. “Fine. I owe you the engagement. I have no right to argue with you. But remember this: I can marry you, but in this life, you won’t get a single kind look from me!” With that, he picked up Lily and left. For a whole week, he never appeared again, completely cutting all contact. Until the engagement party, where a hundred elite gentlemen, including Finn, awaited my choice. From the moment he entered the Lane family mansion, he was like a puppet, showing no emotion. Guests assumed he was my designated fiancé and came forward to congratulate him. Finn didn’t give them a glance, treating them coldly. Just as the selection process was about to begin, his phone suddenly chimed. After checking the message, his face instantly went ashen. He rushed towards me, ignoring everyone, and slapped me in front of the crowd. “Alice Lane, why did you hire someone to hit Lily with a car?!” “I came as promised today! What else do you want from me?!” “Every second I spend near you, even the air makes me utterly sick!” With that, he left furiously, ignoring his bodyguard’s attempts to stop him. My father’s eyes burned red with rage. He slammed his hand on the table. “That beast! He dares to defy my Lane family for a harlot?!” “Cut all collaborations with Davies Industries! Announce publicly that anyone who dares to help the Davies family is an enemy of the Lane family!” Guests exchanged glances, whispering amongst themselves. They wondered who I would choose now that Finn had left. I smiled, stepped forward, and linked my arm with my father’s. “My apologies for the scene, everyone. However, Finn Davies and I have no connection. His departure simply means the engagement party continues. Gentlemen, please begin your game of rock-paper-scissors. The winner will become my fiancé, maximizing our family’s resources and benefits. But those with bad luck will be eliminated by me!” Three rounds of the game quickly concluded. The final winner was a young man who had just graduated college. He stood on the stage, his expression shy, his ears flushed crimson, unable to look at me. I handed the microphone to my father, then stepped forward and threw myself into his embrace. The hall erupted in applause, and guests offered their congratulations. … At the hospital, Finn’s father called him repeatedly. After Finn hung up on him, his father stormed directly into the hospital room. He slapped Finn across the face, roaring uncontrollably. “You missed the engagement party! Are you insane?! Do you know the Lane family—” Before he could finish, Finn cut him off coldly. “Does it matter if I went? Alice Lane would marry me no matter what. What’s the point of this formality?” His face was etched with exhaustion, his eyes hollow as he gazed in Lily’s direction. His father suddenly let out a bitter laugh, then raised his hand and slapped him again. “Marry you no matter what? Alice Lane is engaged to the Sutton family! Who do you think you are?!”

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1 By the seventh year of our marriage, Ethan seemed to have grown weary of me. His phone password had changed. He no longer shared the small details of his day. 【I’m swamped, feet barely touching the ground. No time for trivial chatter.】 Yet, later, in class, the young student he was sponsoring wept as she poured out her grievances to him. 【Just because I missed a few classes, the teacher wants to dock my participation grade.】 Without a word, he hired someone to vandalize my cubicle. When I returned to my office, I found utter chaos, shattered glass, and papers strewn across the floor. For a long moment, I stood frozen. Then, I bent to pick up our wedding photo, torn in half on the ground – a picture of us, so young and full of hope, beaming back. In that instant, everything just felt utterly meaningless. That evening, Ethan, a rare presence at home, carried the chill of the outside world with him. He handed me a few takeout containers. 【Passed by National University today, saw that old spot you loved. See if it tastes the same as it used to.】 The containers were barely warm, yet my palms felt scorched. “What were you doing at National University?” I asked. His hands, poised to loosen his tie, paused, then casually resumed their task. 【Client dinner.】 I nodded, tracing the wedding band on my ring finger. A colleague’s words resurfaced – she’d said the young student’s boyfriend, a man seemingly well-established, had hired the vandals. He’d even left a business card, telling me to contact him for compensation, his tone arrogant but brimming with confidence. That gilded card was still in my bag, its intricate patterns on the back. The prolonged silence made Ethan restless. He turned, kneeling before me, reaching out to cup my face. 【Why the long face? What happened?】 Just then, his phone chimed. His eyes flickered, his movements slowing by a beat. I pulled back a little. 【A student misbehaved, and she’s upset about being disciplined.】 At my answer, he relaxed, his suspended hand gently ruffling my hair. His voice, for once, was uncommonly soft. 【So even our Ms. Lila faces trouble at work.】 The chime sounded again. This time, I caught it – it was his ‘special contacts’ ringtone. The continuous stream of messages clearly distracted him. 【Don’t you want to know her name?】 【My student? How would I know her?】 【What if you do?】 【Chloe!】 He cut me off, a frown creasing his brow, then pointed to the documents on the table. 【I’m truly busy. The company’s swamped. I don’t want to come home and have to listen to your cryptic questions. You can handle things, right?】 The words choked in my throat, and I fell silent again. Ethan, his face cold, retreated into his study. When I followed him with the documents he’d dropped, my nose met the slammed door. The papers scattered across the floor, caught in the gust of air. I crouched, clutching my throbbing face, beginning to resent our house’s poor soundproofing. It was so bad, I could still hear Ethan’s hushed, tender voice from behind the door: 【Don’t cry. I’m here.】 Ethan and I married in our seventh year of dating. He’d just failed his startup, and I hadn’t finished my studies. We had no car, no home, squeezing into a tiny rented apartment, eating instant noodles. Yet, somehow, we found the courage. Just a casual remark about the “seven-year itch” sent us impulsively to City Hall to get our marriage license, keeping it a secret from our families. Stepping out of the registry office, he held the red certificate, grinning at me. 【Seven years? What’s seven years? Lila, we’re legally married now. We have a lifetime to go.】 We were so naive, so innocent back then, believing love could conquer all. Until we learned to compromise with the world. After his third failure, he gave up on his startup, joined a big company, and steadily climbed the corporate ladder. And I, after graduating with my master’s, gave up on studying abroad, choosing to become an ordinary teacher. Over those seven years, our paths diverged, we grew in different directions. We seemingly found both love and security, only to suddenly realize, looking back, that the person beside us had become a stranger, no longer the one we’d fallen in love with. The boy who, eyes red-rimmed, once rubbed my hands because we couldn’t afford heating, was now comforting another girl’s tears. Around eleven, I heard movement by the door. Ethan walked in, as he always did, pulling the covers over me. Seeing I was awake, he seemed surprised, then explained that a client had an emergency, and he had to go. I didn’t respond. 【Was that the same client you had dinner with today?】 【Hmm.】 【Is just having dinner not enough? Do you have to sleep with them too?】 Ethan, halfway into putting on his jacket, shot me a cold glance. 【What are you trying to say? That there’s no such client, that I’m lying because I’m with another woman?】 He took a few steps back, scrutinizing me. 【You weren’t this unreasonable before.】 After Ethan left, a message popped up in my staff group chat. It was Ms. Davies, the counselor for the third-year class, complaining: 【That Chloe girl in my class is causing trouble again. She insists her roommate is targeting her, making a fuss about moving out late at night. Can’t stop her. Says her boyfriend is picking her up soon. These young girls nowadays, honestly…】 When I woke up the next morning, Ethan was lying beside me, his phone on the nightstand, its notification light blinking incessantly. I reached for it, but as my hand passed over him, he caught my wrist – his eyes filled with a guarded suspicion, as if I were a class enemy. I stated calmly, 【You have messages.】 He scoffed, handing me his phone. 【Go ahead and check. The password’s our wedding anniversary.】 His tone was dismissive, almost mocking, as if taunting my lack of trust in our marriage. I typed in the password. Aside from company group chats, there were very few personal conversations. The recent messages were just a subordinate requesting leave. Seeing my grim expression, Ethan, as if he’d won a battle, put down his phone and pulled me into his arms. From under the pillow, he pulled out a box – inside was a ruby necklace. It was beautiful, a deep, pulsing crimson, like an endlessly beating heart. Even for us now, it was a significant expense. He gently put it on me, his voice tinged with weary resignation. 【It’s our wedding anniversary today. We’ve been through fourteen years together. How could you have so little faith in me?】 With that, he closed his eyes, fatigued, nestling into the crook of my neck. 【Wife, I don’t like you like this.】 If I hadn’t seen that necklace in a magazine, knowing it came with a pair of matching earrings, I might have felt guilty for my suspicions. But there was no ‘if.’ Whose ears would those earrings adorn? I instinctively hugged Ethan back, trying to comfort myself: It’s okay. They’re just a free gift. That evening, Ethan stood me up for our candlelit dinner. When the waiter asked for the third time if I could give up my table, I awkwardly stood. A young couple who had been waiting eagerly took my spot, thanking me profusely. Even as I walked out of the restaurant, I could hear their sweet chatter about how hard it was to get a reservation, how famous the dishes were. My chat screen was stuck on a message from three hours ago, asking Ethan how much longer he’d be. I called him; it went straight to voicemail. Then a message came through: 【Something came up at work.】 On a whim, I opened the staff group chat, added Ms. Davies, the counselor, and asked her about the student from the other day. She seemed to find a willing ear, sending seven or eight voice messages in quick succession, finally telling me: That little girl’s boyfriend showed up again, helping her move her luggage. She couldn’t resist adding: He’s quite handsome, actually. Time had been exceptionally kind to Ethan; he hadn’t become a portly, unkempt middle-aged man. His thick black hair was neatly combed, his simple yet elegant suit exuded an aura of confidence and poise. Chloe stood beside him, twirling her long hair, occasionally glaring at passing girls, looking possessive. I stood behind them, watching him help the girl move her luggage, then share a late-night snack. They strolled leisurely through the campus. As they passed National University’s famous Lovers’ Lake, Chloe linked her arm through his. Ethan’s expression remained placid, letting her cling, neither returning the gesture nor resisting. The girl’s eyes crinkled in a smile, her cheeks flushed as she lowered her head, and a glint from her earlobes caught the light. I followed them until they entered an apartment building, then finally left. That night, my old professor called. He started by grumbling about his current students, then praised my talent in our field, finally tentatively asking where I was working now. I candidly told him I’d stayed to teach at the university after graduation. He expressed deep regret, asking if I was interested in joining an international project and continuing my research. I clutched my phone, thinking of something, and shook my head. 【I’m married.】 A long silence stretched on the line. Finally, my professor said no more, only hoping I’d consider it. When Ethan returned, I had just gotten out of the shower. He didn’t even bother to take off his jacket before embracing me from behind. A faint scent of alcohol drifted from him. Then, a shower of kisses, dense and urgent, rained from my neck to my cheeks, finally lingering on my earlobes. His voice was hoarse, tinged with a rare desperation. 【Wife, I missed you.】 It had been so long since we’d been this intimate, not since his work had gotten so busy. I couldn’t help but remember the ruby earrings, how intimately he had nestled with that young girl. My throat instantly tightened. I instinctively pushed him away. 【I don’t feel well.】 As if to prove my words, a moment later, my stomach churned violently. I rushed into the bathroom, throwing up until only a bitter, salty taste remained in my mouth. In that moment, I suddenly understood: I couldn’t just be indifferent anymore. When I emerged, Ethan was already asleep. His phone was still on the nightstand. This time, no one stopped me. I picked up the phone, typing in the young girl’s birthday. The screen unlocked to an interface completely different from what I’d seen that morning. There was only one contact, labeled “My Forever Young Girl.” As I watched, a message came in: A photo. A pristine white sheet, neatly folded, adorned with crimson spots, a heart drawn in marker beside them. 【Remember our first time? When we became one, our hearts beat in sync, and I felt your burning love. Will big brother divorce for me?】 …My mind buzzed. I scrolled up through their chat history. It was as if they had endless things to say to each other, so much content that Ethan’s silence at home suddenly seemed “understandable.” Two years ago, on Lunar New Year’s Eve, he didn’t come back to my hometown for the first time. We watched the boring New Year’s gala from our phones, listening to the noisy firecrackers outside. At the stroke of midnight, he sent his blessings precisely on time. I even teased him then, saying we were an old married couple, no need for such exact timing. I didn’t know that at that very moment, he was celebrating New Year’s with that young girl, and they were making dinner together in the same house we’d lived in for seven years. In the photo, the girl’s face was dusted with flour, beaming. Ethan’s gaze was tender as he wiped her face. My fingertips slowly grew cold. I tormented myself, scrolling through the messages Ethan had sent her. At first, the girl spoke more. She called him “Kind Big Brother,” innocently complaining about school troubles, about classmates being difficult. Later, Ethan’s messages grew more frequent. He’d tell her about his work frustrations. Chloe mostly wouldn’t understand, but she’d respond with a soft voice saying “So tough,” and send “sympathy for big brother” emojis. And then, the Ethan of later messages was both familiar and a stranger to me – he’d share mundane daily details with her, and when she was upset, he’d rush to be with her. Those late nights he told me he was “busy with work” were almost always spent by her side. As I kept reading, the nausea returned, but I had nothing left to throw up. I pulled on a jacket, buried myself in the couch, and sank into a deep sleep. I felt cold in the night, but warm in the morning. When I woke up, I found myself curled in Ethan’s arms, like a chick returning to its nest. Seeing I was awake, he naturally patted my back. 【Feeling better?】 On the table were water and medicine he’d prepared. Seeing me take it, he slipped a piece of candy into my mouth. The sickly sweet taste startled me. Still half-asleep, I instinctively questioned, 【I’m not a child.】 【Someone else gave it to me. I don’t like sweets anyway.】 He pulled me back into his embrace. 【Oh, by the way, did you know that girl I was sponsoring also got into National University?】 My heart suddenly clenched. 【What are you trying to say?】 He seemed oblivious. 【You have pretty good connections with a lot of professors. Could you put in a good word, help her get a spot in the grad program?】 Later that day at school, the principal informed me I’d been reported for “abusing authority and targeting a student.” I knew it was Ethan’s doing, so I submitted my resignation. However, with final exams approaching, the principal hoped I would help teach the last few classes. As I worked through calculations on the blackboard, Chloe sauntered in late. I glanced at her, then continued my lecture. During a short break, some students gathered around her, asking: 【You were late today, and Ms. Hayes didn’t say anything to you. How did you do that?】 She was looking down, fiddling with her phone, a smug grin on her face. 【She wouldn’t dare mess with me.】 She then launched into a vivid, embellished tale of how she and her boyfriend had “punished” me. Finally, she pulled out her phone and showed the others a picture of the two of them. 【Wow, your boyfriend is so handsome?! You two together look straight out of a billionaire romance novel!】 Someone snatched her phone and handed it to me. 【Ms. Hayes, look, isn’t Chloe’s boyfriend handsome?】 I looked at the familiar face on the screen, then at Chloe, who stood there, her face a mask of brazen provocation. In that instant, a sharp, cold fury pricked at my heart, impossible to contain. I gripped my lesson plan tightly, forcing myself to remain calm. 【I know him. He’s a general manager at a publicly traded company. I heard he’s already married. So, Chloe, are you… the other woman?】

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1 For five years of marriage, Andrew Hayes had slept his way through half of Hollywood. I pretended not to see, commuting daily between the hospital and the film set. My mother’s leukemia demanded astronomical treatment costs, and Andrew held the reins of Hayes Enterprises’ medical resources. Until that day, when the new starlet he was promoting “accidentally” severed my safety wire on set. I plummeted from a ten-foot platform. The three-month-old life within me stilled. My hand trembling, I dialed his number. “Andrew, please, save our baby.” From the other end, a woman’s soft moans reached me, followed by Andrew’s voice, a languid drawl of satisfaction. “Evie, I’m utterly sick of your pathetic ploys for attention. If you truly want to die, do it far away from me.” By the time the crew rushed me to the hospital, the heartbeat had stopped. My mother, upon hearing the news, pulled out her oxygen tube in the hospital room. “My sweet Evie, Mom won’t be a burden to you anymore.” Those were her last words. Three lives for one. My debt to him, I thought, was finally repaid. From now on, the world was vast, and we would never cross paths again. Andrew arrived as I was signing the death certificate. He snatched the paper from my hands, tearing it to shreds. “Are you done with your theatrics? All you want is money, isn’t it? Name your price! Who are you putting on this pathetic dying act for? When your mother was on her deathbed, she practically groveled at my feet, begging for medical funds!” I stared at the shredded paper on the floor and offered him a docile smile. “What if I told you I don’t beg anymore?” Three seconds later, the slamming door rattled my very bones. Andrew had barely left when his assistant appeared in the doorway. “Mrs. Hayes, Mr. Hayes instructed me to inform you: if you’re willing to apologize, your mother’s burial plot will be chosen in the most prime location.” “No need. Please tell him that we are completely even now.” By the time I returned from the cemetery, night had fallen. Pushing open the villa’s heavy front door, grating laughter echoed from the direction of the pool. Andrew was lounging by the poolside, an arm slung around a scantily clad model. Another face I didn’t recognize. Yes, he had never truly cared about me. Not even on the day I personally laid my mother to rest, he still brought a woman home. For three years, I had watched him replace one woman after another, my heart slowly hardening from agony to numb indifference. He claimed he wanted an apology from me, but in reality, he just wanted to use my mother’s final resting place as leverage, to grind me into his palm. I wouldn’t give him that chance again. “Stop. What was that message your assistant gave me supposed to mean?” I paused, but didn’t turn back. Andrew sneered, pushing the woman from his lap. “Your mother’s dead. You think that clears the debt? When your father forced my mother to her death, did he ever consider this day would come?” I looked at him and smiled faintly. “If she lacked the ability to protect herself, who else could she blame?” Andrew’s hand shot out, seizing my wrist. “Since you admit my mother was too weak to protect herself from your father, then the one lacking ability now is you! So I’m justified in tormenting you.” He snapped his fingers. His assistant immediately approached, holding a polished mahogany box. My pupils constricted. It was clearly my mother’s urn, the very one I had just buried with my own hands! “I heard you spent all your savings on that burial plot?” Andrew nudged the box with the tip of his leather shoe. “Pity, I just had someone dig it up. Guess what happens if my hand ‘slips’ now?” That was my mother. How dared he? For three years, I had endured his humiliation, his betrayal, even watching my own child vanish into blood. I thought I had reached the very depths of hell. But it turned out Andrew could be even more cruel. In a daze, I saw my mother’s face as she opened her eyes for the last time. Her thin fingers clutching the oxygen tube, offering me a smile of sweet release. “My sweet Evie, Mom won’t be a burden to you anymore.” She was the one person in this world who loved me most, who even chose death for my freedom. And now, the urn containing my last hope was being toyed with so casually by Andrew’s wedding-ringed hand. I lunged, mad with grief, but he easily restrained my hands, pinning me against the wall. He savored my breaking expression, then spoke slowly, methodically. “Want your mother to rest in peace? Fine. From today on, you’ll stay by my side and serve me. Until every last bit of what you owe me is paid back.” His words hung in the air, and then Andrew glanced towards the model approaching. “Go, dry her off. Quickly now.” 2 For the sake of my mother’s ashes, I had no choice. I picked up the towel, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. Four years ago, by this very pool, Andrew had wrapped this same towel around my body, kissing me amidst cheers and playful taunts. His ears had been flushed crimson, yet he had pulled me into a fierce embrace. Now, I was forced to act like a servant for Andrew’s latest conquest. The model suddenly giggled, complaining of tickles, deliberately wriggling her body. It was then I noticed her phone screen, placed beside the pool, was lit up – she was live-streaming! The comments scrolled wildly: “Isn’t that Evie Hayes? Working as a maid?” “Heard she’d stooped to anything to get ahead.” “Serves her right! Always hated her.” I snapped my head up, meeting the model’s challenging gaze. Andrew leaned back in his lounge chair, enjoying the spectacle. He was doing this on purpose. I turned to leave, but Andrew’s hand shot out, seizing my wrist. “Where are you going? Your father made my mother suffer a hundredfold. I’ll make you repay every single bit of it.” The model’s live video went viral that very night. #EvieHayesServesOthers and #EvieHayesExposed trended, racking up hundreds of millions of views. My phone vibrated endlessly, bombarded with abusive texts and death threats from unknown numbers. I switched off my phone. A single tear splattered onto the back of my hand. Andrew watched me cry, finally satisfied. After he left, the butler, Mr. Finch, approached, offering me a tissue. “Madam, please don’t blame the master. He’s just…” I waved him off, turning into my bedroom. The next morning, my door was violently kicked open. Andrew stood in the doorway, a petite figure clinging to his arm. It was her—Scarlett Davies, the starlet who had “accidentally” cut my safety wire on set. She stood behind Andrew, looking innocent and fragile, just as she had cried to the media, claiming it was “not on purpose.” My vision blurred. My mother’s last moments, pulling out her oxygen tube, flashed before my eyes, alternating with the image of the tiny, formed life on the ultrasound screen. He knew full well those hands were stained with our child’s blood, yet he indulged her, letting her trample over my heart again and again. Yes, this child was merely an accident to him. He wouldn’t care. Scarlett suddenly dropped to her knees, her tears flowing on cue. “Evie, I’m so, so sorry. That day, I really didn’t mean to.” Then, she looked up, her voice barely a whisper, for my ears only. “But a bastard should never have been born anyway!” I lunged to slap her, but Andrew’s hand clamped down on my wrist, hard. He looked down at me, and from his pocket, he produced a familiar silver locket. It was the family heirloom my mother had worn her entire life. “Remember this? I found it in the urn.” I struggled to snatch it, but he casually tossed it to Scarlett. Scarlett caught it with a gasp of delight, then, right in front of me, she put it around her neck. This locket was a cherished Hayes family heirloom. When my mother had given it to Andrew years ago, she had smiled and said, “From now on, we’re family.” Back then, Andrew would respectfully call my mother “Aunt Evelyn.” He would anxiously offer her warm water when she coughed. He would arrange the best hospital for her the moment she fell ill. But later, he had savagely thrown the locket onto my mother’s hospital bed, declaring it a jinx. My voice trembled. “Andrew, you know what that locket meant to my mother.” He gripped my chin. “When your father forced my mother to jump to her death, did he consider what that meant?” Scarlett flinched at the sudden intensity. The locket slipped from her grasp, falling onto the marble floor. Scarlett frantically bent down, but as she picked it up, she fumbled and dropped it again. Time seemed to stop. I knelt on the floor, staring at the shattered locket. It was like that misunderstanding from years ago, tearing two families apart. “Tonight, Scarlett will stay in the master bedroom. You, clean this up.” Andrew put an arm around Scarlett and walked upstairs. Mom, I lost your last keepsake too. Outside the window, thunder cracked, and rain poured down. Just like that rainy night many years ago, when Andrew, drenched, stood outside my house just to coax me to sleep. And now, he was holding another woman, sleeping in the marital bed my mother and I had picked out together. This time, I didn’t cry. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to a number that had been dormant in my contacts for years: “Attorney Miller, regarding my father’s case from back then, I need all the information.” 3 The message had barely sent when I heard faint laughter echoing from upstairs. Rain lashed against the window, like countless tiny needles pricking my heart. At three in the morning, I got up to pour myself some water in the kitchen. In the darkness, Scarlett suddenly appeared before me. “Evie, still awake so late? Oh, that’s right. Your mom’s dead, your baby’s gone, and even your last shred of dignity has been trampled by Andrew. Of course you can’t sleep.” I slammed the water glass onto the counter. “Scarlett, Andrew has so many women. Why are you so fixated on me?” She poked my shoulder. “How could those other women compare to you, Evie? Are you angry? How about we play a little game?” The next second, she turned and walked towards the balcony. “Evie, what do you think would happen if I jumped from here?” Before I could react, she had already climbed onto the balcony railing. “Ah! Evie, don’t push me!” My instincts took over, and I lunged, grabbing her arm. Just then, Andrew’s furious roar erupted from behind me. Scarlett’s body leaned backward, her terrified eyes reflecting my outstretched hand. Just like all those years ago. Andrew’s blood ran cold in that second. Memories flooded him like a tidal wave. Ten years ago, on a rainy night, he stood downstairs, watching his mother fall from the window. And in the window, my father’s silhouette flickered past. And now, I stood in the same position, my fingers almost touching Scarlett’s shoulder. “No!” His rage exploded like magma, incinerating his last shred of reason. How dare I? How dare I use the same method, once again, to take someone he cared about! In his vision, my face slowly overlapped with my father’s cold countenance. Of course, we shared the same blood. The next second, a massive force sent me sprawling to the ground. Andrew seized my throat, pressing me against the wall. “You and your father, you’re both murderers!” “No, it was her own choice.” I managed to gasp, the words raw and strained. Scarlett cried out, throwing herself forward to clutch Andrew’s leg. “Andrew! I’m so scared! Evie suddenly said she would make me pay, that she would push me off!” The butler, Mr. Finch, rushed in at the sound, desperately pulling at Andrew’s arm. “Sir! Sir, calm down! Miss Scarlett is unharmed!” I clutched my throat, my voice hoarse. “The security… the security footage…” “Enough!” Andrew bellowed. “I saw you standing behind her with my own eyes! My mother was killed by your father in the very same way!” He wouldn’t even listen to an explanation. It was always like this. Three years ago, it was like this, and now it was like this again. He would always only believe the truth he decided upon, never giving anyone else a chance to speak. But the cruelest irony was this: If he hated me so much, why wouldn’t he let me go? My mother was dead, I had endured endless humiliation for three years, and I had even lost our child. Wasn’t all that enough? Did I have to die to repay his mother’s life? Andrew finally calmed down after hearing Mr. Finch’s voice. He left, holding Scarlett, with a chilling “Be careful” for me. After his footsteps completely faded down the hallway, the old butler dared to step forward and help me, where I was slumped on the floor. “Madam, please don’t blame the master. He just… he doesn’t recognize his own heart!” The butler’s voice was filled with a poignant sadness. “All these years, everyone at the estate has seen it. The master’s study drawer still holds the gifts you gave him, the jasmine scent you love is replenished precisely on time every month, and your favorite foods…” Doesn’t recognize his own heart? I remembered Andrew’s furious eyes as he choked me. I remembered Scarlett’s triumphant smile as she wore my mother’s locket. I remembered the moans from my phone, the night our unborn child turned to blood. Enough. Three years of enduring, of conceding, of pain—it was all enough. I pulled my arm from the butler’s grasp and walked towards the bedroom. The next morning, I opened my eyes. My phone screen lit up, a text from Attorney Miller. I stared at it for three seconds, then, with a faint, detached smile, I opened my contacts. “Andrew Hayes, I need to see you.” This time, I would not hesitate, I would not be soft-hearted. Either we would go to hell together. Or I would personally tear apart the lies of these past three years. My phone screen lit up, Andrew’s name flashing. “3 PM, Northwood Studios, Stage 7. Kneel and apologize to Scarlett, or you’ll never see your mother’s ashes again.” 4 Scarlett had a new project recently, so Andrew must have been staying with her. As I pushed open the heavy, soundproof studio door, I found the entire set deserted. Suddenly, the clang of an iron door closing echoed behind me. Three men in crew uniforms emerged from the shadows. “Mrs. Hayes, isn’t it? Someone wants us to add a little extra scene for you.” I understood instantly. It was Scarlett. I stumbled backward, hitting a prop stand. My self-defense spray slipped from my bag. The men chuckled, one of them kicking the spray away with his foot. “Don’t be nervous, this scene is simple. Our client said she wants it filmed clearly.” I snatched up a prop knife and lunged, but received a sharp slap across the face instead. The sky had fully darkened by the time I stumbled out of the studio. My phone screen lit up, displaying a new message from Scarlett: “The video turned out really professional, want to see it? Andrew will be able to enjoy it soon, too! Oh, and I forgot to tell you, Andrew was in my bed all day today! He watched me send that message to you!” The night wind whipped my torn clothes, revealing the dried blood on my legs. I slowly sank to the ground, burying my face in my knees. So Andrew knew. This was his tacit approval. I thought his torment and humiliation were merely forms of revenge. But I never imagined he would allow something like this to happen to me. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, dripping onto the cold studio floor. In a daze, I remembered that summer night four years ago. At a noisy night market barbecue stall, a drunkard’s hand had just grazed my waist when Andrew seized a beer bottle and smashed it over his head. The man, face covered in blood, begged for mercy, but Andrew was like a furious beast, his fists breaking two of the man’s ribs, refusing to stop. Finally, I hugged him from behind, my voice trembling as I said, “Enough, Andrew, I’m scared.” Only then did he stop, turning to embrace me tightly, his voice hoarse and broken. “Whoever touches you, I’ll take their life.” And now, the man who once fought for me, had hired others to ruin me. I pulled out my phone, my hands trembling. The moment the screen lit up, Andrew’s heart skipped a beat. “Andrew Hayes, why won’t you let me go?” “Do you hate me or do you not want to let me go?” “Will you only be satisfied when I’m dead?” Every word was a needle pricking his heart. He stared at the message, his brow furrowing unconsciously. The tone of this message wasn’t about the apology he’d demanded earlier today. Last night, when he choked me, the look in my eyes exploded in his mind. In those eyes, besides hatred, there was a raw, unreadable pain. He turned to Scarlett, who was applying lipstick in front of the vanity mirror. “Has Evie arrived at the studio yet?” Scarlett’s movement paused imperceptibly, then she flashed a sweet smile. “Why are you asking about that, Andrew? Don’t worry about her. Shall we watch the rushes from yesterday, first?” Andrew didn’t move. He looked back at his phone, scrolling up. It was the message telling me to go to Stage 7. He scrolled further up. It was the text I had sent him, asking to see him. Andrew suddenly stood up. He clearly remembered he hadn’t sent Evelyn any messages today. Half an hour later, when Andrew arrived at Northwood Studios, Stage 7, it was completely empty. In the dim studio, there were only a few torn scraps of fabric. Looking closely, dark red bloodstains remained on the floor. His heart plummeted. His phone suddenly vibrated. It was a text from his assistant:

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My best friend, Lana, and I unexpectedly transmigrated to a post-apocalyptic world where women were few and far between. In this shattered world, men constantly presented Lana and me with the most delectable food, dedicating every effort to defending our safety. As days turned into weeks, Lana gradually became immersed in this new reality, losing all desire to return to our original world. “This place,” she’d exclaim, her voice bubbling with delight, “is truly my paradise.” But as I gazed at the men who hovered around us, ever vigilant, like loyal guardians, a profound dread settled in my heart. I knew, with chilling certainty, that genuine kindness never came without a price in this world. Under any circumstances, the primary instinct of male organisms always remained the same: to procreate. 1 As that chilling realization dawned, eight security officers had already silently infiltrated the living quarters Lana and I shared. They stood rigidly in their crisp black uniforms, forming an ominous perimeter in the dim light. A cold, lethal aura radiated from them, each one young, strong, and imposing. After a moment of unsettling stillness, two of them slowly moved towards Lana’s room and my own. My heart hammered, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs. I forced myself to feign sleep, silently praying they were merely conducting a routine patrol. Yet, deep within me, an unsettling premonition whispered: their presence here, tonight, was likely to ensure Lana and I conceived. Just this morning, during our medical examination, I had inadvertently overheard snippets of the doctors’ conversation: “These two girls possess exceptionally robust physical conditions. The Ark Sanctuary hasn’t encountered bodies this healthy, this superior, in twenty years.” “And we’ve already identified eight highly genetically compatible males for them.” “If all proceeds smoothly, new life will be born by this time next year.” “Heaven truly has favored us after all.” There were a few other women undergoing examinations at the time, so it hadn’t immediately registered that they were speaking about Lana and me. After the check-up, we had been transferred to this towering structure—the only place in the Sanctuary with a view of the world beyond its walls. On our table, in addition to the milk, tender beef, and soft bread we enjoyed daily, rested two incredibly rare apples. Such luxuries were typically reserved only for the highest-ranking personnel within the Sanctuary. The common folk struggled to survive on coarse grains like yams and corn. Yet, ever since Lana and I arrived, despite being classified as commoners, we were regularly given these precious foods. I knew the Sanctuary enforced an extremely strict post-apocalyptic rationing system. You received only what you earned. And for us to receive such valuable treatment, we would undoubtedly have to provide something equally precious in return. Lana and I possessed nothing. Except… our bodies. Lana, as usual, picked up her milk, stood by the window, and gazed out at the vast, desolate landscape beyond the walls. Bathed in the warm sunlight, her skin was as fair as snow, gentle and appealing, like a pristine angel. I, on the other hand, stared at the food on the table, my heart filled with mounting anxiety. Lana turned, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?” I recounted, word for word, everything the doctors had said. “This place is too strange. We need to find a way back to our original world, fast.” She remained silent, not immediately responding. After a long pause, she softly asked, “Skye, isn’t it good here?” I frowned, bewildered. What was good about this place? The apocalypse had raged for a century. The climate was brutally extreme, the ecosystem severely unbalanced, food was desperately scarce, and mindless husks roamed everywhere… This, clearly, was a living hell. But she continued, her voice wistful: “Here, we don’t have to worry about finding jobs, or fret over food and clothes. We don’t have to toil tirelessly just to buy a house or pay off a mortgage. No one bullies us. Everyone takes great care of us, showing us profound concern.” “For me… this place is paradise.” I shook my head, my voice firm. “There’s no such thing as kindness without cause in this world. All good intentions have a price, a root. “With women so scarce here, our price is likely childbirth. It’s the sacrifice of these bodies.” Lana gently brushed a wisp of hair from her face. “But Skye, in our original world, we would also have to give birth, to dedicate our bodies, wouldn’t we?” 2 A man stepped into my room, stopping by my bed. I knew him. His name was Caleb. He was the son of the former Ark Sanctuary Commander. And also the most ruthless, cold-blooded security officer. Rumor had it he’d personally ended his parents’ lives when he was just ten years old. The first time I saw him, I was struck by his striking appearance. But who would have thought that the next second, his gun would be pointed directly at my head? Lana and I had transmigrated while we were at an amusement park. A sudden sinkhole had opened up, and Lana and I simply plummeted down. At that time, I was still wearing my gray-blue contact lenses. And gray-blue eyes, in this post-apocalyptic world, were the mark of an infected. Caleb had mistaken me for one. Although the misunderstanding was later cleared, he always held a deep aversion to me. He hated that I, a human, had adorned my eyes with the color of the infected. Yet, the Sanctuary had assigned him to oversee Lana’s and my safety. He was an absolute enforcer of orders; even if he loathed me, he had no choice but to carry out his duties. I held no fondness for him either. Many in the Sanctuary disliked him. They whispered that the security officers were mere lapdogs of the elite, and Caleb was the fiercest, most loyal one among them. Caleb stopped beside my bed. I heard the sharp, metallic click of his belt buckle being unfastened. My guess was right. Their objective tonight was to ensure our impregnation. I stopped pretending to sleep. I sat up, pressing the small, pre-prepared knife against my throat, articulating each word carefully: “Get out, or I’ll die right here in front of you.” The knife was meticulously sharpened. My hand trembled slightly, and the blade sliced into my skin. Warm blood welled, tracing a searing line down my neck. I was gambling. Gambling that he couldn’t, wouldn’t dare, let me die. Sure enough, Caleb froze. A flicker of confusion crossed his expression. It seemed I wasn’t supposed to be awake. I immediately thought of the milk from earlier today. I hadn’t drunk mine. Lana, not wanting to waste it, had consumed my portion. That’s why she had fallen asleep so early. They had drugged the milk. Now, another man had already entered Lana’s room. I continued to leverage the threat of my death against Caleb: “I said, get out now, and take them with you.” But the next second, my knife was snatched away, and my mouth was firmly covered by his hand. I struggled, but I was utterly powerless. For the first time, I felt a desperate, stark awareness of the immense strength disparity between a man and a woman. Especially against the most formidable fighter in the Sanctuary. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I did not want to be forced to conceive. So I bit down hard on Caleb’s hand, the metallic taste of blood quickly filling my mouth. Caleb remained impassive. But he made no further move. A voice crackled through his comms unit: “Major Caleb, what’s your status?” Caleb glanced at me. “She’s awake, uncooperative, and engaged in self-harm.” The voice paused. “Understood. Terminate the mission for now. Don’t let her injure herself.” Caleb: “Understood.” He released me. I pushed him away and jumped off the bed. I had to save Lana. But Caleb simply tossed me back onto the bed. Assuming he intended to continue, I sneered, “What, is your dog going to defy his master’s orders now?” He lowered his gaze, saying nothing. He unfastened his belt and bound my hands to the headboard, then gagged me with a cloth. Then, he pulled up a chair and sat facing me. 3 In the silent darkness, the creaking of Lana’s metal bed in the next room was starkly audible. Along with her soft, muffled whimpers. She should have been deep in sleep. But now, she was clearly lost in physical pleasure. It seemed the milk contained more than just a sedative. And there were six other men outside. The doctors had said these were our “matches.” I didn’t know if all of them were meant to participate. I blamed myself for not preparing Lana, for not warning her in time. After what felt like an eternity, the sounds from Lana’s room finally ceased. Someone spoke to the man. Then, the man led Lana away. Panic surged through me. Once Caleb finally untied me, I demanded, “Where are you taking Lana?” Caleb didn’t answer directly, only saying, “Your current state would affect her. You’ll meet again when the time is right.” I asked others, but no one offered an explanation. Two months since we transmigrated, and for the first time, Lana and I had lost contact. 4 I was isolated. Even Caleb, who had been my constant shadow, didn’t appear. The door was locked. I picked up a chair and slammed it against the window, only to discover the glass was specially reinforced. My strength was useless against it. This tower, once the only place with a view of the world outside, had become an aerial cage. I dared not eat. I feared they would drug the food. After enduring a full day and night like this, Caleb and an elderly man with white hair appeared before me. Hope ignited in my heart when I saw the elder. On the day Caleb had almost killed me, mistaking me for an infected, it was this old man who had stopped him. I didn’t know his identity, but from his attire and demeanor, his rank was clearly higher than Caleb’s. He asked kindly, “Is the food not to your liking, child? Grandpa can have them prepare something else.” I thought he was my savior. “Please, let my friend and me go. We can work for our food.” I told him Lana and I had both studied bioengineering, surely we could contribute to the Sanctuary. The old man listened patiently, then gently stroked my head. “Child, your work is to bear children.” I stared at him in disbelief. I thought, a wise elder like him should understand that procreation should not be forced. He then pointed to Caleb and asked, “Does Major Caleb not appeal to you? He is the most handsome man here, and his genetic compatibility with you is the highest.” “However, if you truly cannot accept him, you may choose someone you prefer.” “Your feelings are paramount. We will fully respect your choice.” I slowly backed away. “I refuse to be a breeding machine. I’d rather die.” The old man showed no anger. He calmly instructed Caleb to remove all food and water, leaving nothing behind. Caleb paused, “All of it?” The old man nodded. “All of it.” Caleb looked as if he wanted to speak further but held his tongue. I didn’t care. Because at that moment, I genuinely felt that being forced to procreate was worse than death. But in the days that followed, they gave me no food, only a small cup of corn juice daily to sustain my life. And the windows were all sealed with iron plates. I couldn’t hear sounds or see the sunlight. Initially, I could endure the darkness and hunger, sustained by memories of my beautiful life in the original world. But the hunger gradually made my throat and stomach burn as if on fire, becoming increasingly unbearable. By the seventh day, my consciousness began to blur. I thought I heard Lana’s cries, begging someone to save me. I used every ounce of strength to crawl to the door, weakly banging on it. It felt like ages, but finally, a pair of leather boots appeared before me, the light so blinding I couldn’t open my eyes. I clutched the boots tightly. “I… agree… to… your terms…” A bowl of plain white porridge was handed to me. I clutched the bowl with both hands and devoured it ravenously. I had believed my will would be as unyielding as a revolutionary martyr, but in the end, one bowl of bland porridge reduced me to begging on the floor. I also clearly realized that if I didn’t yield, they truly would let me starve to death. In their world, procreation was more important than life itself. After eating, I finally regained some strength. I looked up at the person who had given me the porridge. It was Caleb. He still wore that indifferent expression. “Going too long without food can hurt your stomach. You don’t need to eat so fast.” The person who came with him scoffed at me. “I thought you were so tough. Couldn’t even last seven days. There was someone else who…” Caleb shot the person a look, and they immediately shut up. The old man also arrived, bringing a few other potential partners. He still spoke to me kindly. “We respect your feelings. You can choose someone you like.” 5 I still chose Caleb. He was the one with the highest genetic compatibility with me. Though the old man outwardly said he allowed me to choose, he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And the female doctor who had examined me earlier had also said: “Combining with the person of highest genetic compatibility is beneficial for you.” “If a less compatible match doesn’t result in conception within two months, they will immediately be replaced by someone else.” “This will continue until you successfully become pregnant.” I asked her, “Why don’t you use artificial reproduction?” “Because all children conceived through artificial means will die from various sudden illnesses around six or seven months. Only natural, human conception is the most stable.” “Are all the women here living like this?” She shook her head. “Not all. Some women… they no longer have the ability to bear children.” “Is it because they’re old?” She didn’t answer me, her expression shadowed with sadness. She reported to the old man that my physical functions had declined due to starvation, and I needed a few days to recover before being intimate with Caleb. The old man did not agree. She sighed and advised me, “Major Caleb isn’t a bad person. Since you’ve accepted the pairing, try to embrace him. It will be easier for you, and it will benefit your future.” Her expression was earnest. I thought she must have gone through something similar to say those words to me. Only Caleb and I remained in the room. He was cleaning his firearm. I stood by the window, gazing at a white building in the distance. Lana and I had materialized just outside that building when we transmigrated. I had tried several times to reach that building, hoping to find a way back to our world, but I could only observe it from the outside; I couldn’t get in. I had yielded to my present circumstances, but I never intended to stay here forever. I had to find a way back into that building. 6 I finished showering and lay in bed. In the silent night, I heard faint sounds of intimacy. From the bottom of the tower to the top, floor by floor. Like a dense, interwoven net, it suffocated me. Caleb moved over me. The pain forced me to find something to distract myself. I asked him, “Did your previous partner have a child?” He gripped my waist. “She died.” “How… did she die?” “Infected.” “And did she successfully conceive before she died?” “No, I hadn’t even met her when she passed.” He looked at me, his amber eyes devoid of desire. Only instinct. The instinct to reproduce. He hadn’t even removed his shirt. The stiff fabric chafed my skin, a dull ache. His gun remained in his hand, a constant vigilance. I stared at the cold night moon outside the window, wishing for dawn to break quickly. Such nights continued for three days. On the morning of the fourth day, the Ark Sanctuary’s alarms blared. Infected had breached the perimeter. Normally, Caleb wouldn’t have to go, but this issue was particularly tricky and required his expertise. My second designated partner was left by my side. He wasn’t much older than seventeen or eighteen, and like Caleb, he was a man of few words. I asked him his name. His eyes were hidden in the shadow of his cap brim, but his earlobes flushed. “Jaxon.” I smiled. “Your name means ‘star of the game,’ doesn’t it? It’s really beautiful.” He nodded, a little nervous. “Th-thank you.” I started to get up and get dressed. He turned away to give me privacy. I deliberately called out to him, “You don’t have to be so formal. Anyway… if I don’t get pregnant in two months, you’ll be the one sleeping here with me.” He stopped, stumbling over his words. “Major Caleb… he has the highest compatibility with you. You two will succeed.” “Who knows? I’ve heard many people fail.” “No… no, he’s very capable.” “This isn’t something capability alone can ensure.” I walked up to him, tilting my head back to meet his eyes. His eyes were beautiful, and filled with a frantic energy. His breathing was unsteady, his chest gently rising and falling. I knew when to stop. “I’m hungry. Could you get me something to eat?” “Okay.” He fled as if released. Lana was returned at that very moment. 7 Lana hugged me tightly, her eyes welling with tears as she remarked on how thin I had become. Anxiously, I asked her, “Where have you been these past few days?” “Just on the floor below.” “With whom?” “With a few other girls, and…” She instinctively bit her lip, then glanced towards the door. Following her gaze, I saw the man who had entered her room that first night. The dim light had obscured his features then, but now I recognized him as Reid, the son of the Sanctuary’s current Commander. It was strange. Why were all these highly genetically compatible men the sons of the elite? Even stranger that Reid would agree to be paired with Lana. He had always been aloof, looking down on commoners, even advocating for abandoning them and keeping only the elite due to resource scarcity. It was ironic. Even with the Sanctuary’s population dwindling to less than three hundred thousand, its class divisions remained stark. Lana said there were other girls in the tower. Remembering the intimate sounds I’d heard last night, it seemed this tower housed others like Lana and me. “So, you’ve been with him all these days?” Lana softly assented. “So you knew what we were going through?” “Yes.” “And you agreed?” “Whether I agreed or not, I couldn’t change anything.” Her nature had always been to endure hardship. This was likely due to her orphaned childhood, living under the care of others. But we were best friends. I wouldn’t leave her behind. “If I can find a way back, you’ll come with me, right?” She nodded. “Yes.” My heart settled a little. Ever since she said this place was paradise, I worried she truly intended to stay. 8 I lived day to day, waiting for an opportunity. By day, I followed their instructions, taking my medicine and eating, and with Lana, we tried to recall details of our transmigration, hoping to find a clue. By night, I lay on the narrow bed, enduring Caleb. Lana adapted to all of this more easily than I did. She adapted to Reid’s bad temper, and also to his arrogance. Ten days later, my period arrived as expected. The doctors were somewhat disappointed, believing my prolonged starvation had affected my body. But they quickly rallied, because Lana was pregnant. A wave of jubilation swept through the Ark Sanctuary. Initially, I couldn’t understand such intense excitement, until Lana told me she was the first natural conception in the Sanctuary in nearly five years.

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