Category: English

The heir to the Sterling empire once grounded an entire international flight just to stop me from leaving. I was the girl who disappeared for three years, carrying his unborn child into the shadows. We eventually married. It felt like a fairy tale. But nine years later, a younger, more vibrant woman appeared by his side. She is bold and adventurous, accompanying him on every high-stakes thrill I am now too “boring” for. I have become a mere housewife, a woman whose world revolves around monitoring my daughter’s sugar intake. Xavier looked at me with cold disappointment and said: “Evelyn, you’ve lost your spark. You’re not the woman I fell in love with.” Even my daughter looked at me with disdain: “Auntie Sierra is smart, beautiful, and runs her own company. You? You just live off Dad.” The next day, I took my social security card and signed the divorce papers. They seemed to have forgotten. The twenty-two-year-old Evelyn once jumped from a cliff into the freezing Atlantic just to be free. The thirty-five-year-old Evelyn still has the courage to start over from nothing. 01 Riverbend was once a thriving industrial hub near New York City, but now it was just another decaying rust-belt town. I pushed open the glass door of a small tech firm. The receptionist was glued to her phone, the volume turned up high. “…In major New York socialite news, the ‘Prince of Wall Street,’ Xavier Sterling, has officially filed for divorce! This story is straight out of a movie. His ex-wife was a nobody from the Midwest. Their marriage was a whirlwind of ‘he-chased-she-ran’ drama that captivated the tabloids for a decade. Rumor has it that the infamous grounding of Flight U8420 years ago was Xavier’s way of stopping her from escaping! But now, it’s over. I guess marrying into that kind of old money is like swallowing needles. Class barriers are real, folks.” The girl was so engrossed she didn’t notice me. I stood there, listening to the three-minute summary of my own life. It felt like watching a stranger’s biography. She finally looked up, startled, and scrambled to mute the video. “Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you here for the internship?” “No,” I said calmly. “I have a ten o’clock interview with Mr. Miller for the Lead Algorithm Engineer position.” The girl blinked. “Oh, right! Please fill out this form.” She glanced at the video on her phone, then back at me, her eyes bright. “Mr. Miller mentioned you went to MIT. Did you ever run in the same circles as the Sterling family? I wonder what the ‘Sterling Princess’ was actually like. I think her name was… was…” I had been “Mrs. Sterling” for so long that I had almost forgotten I had a name of my own. I gave her a small smile. “Evelyn. Evelyn Vance.” “Right! Evelyn Vance!” The girl sighed dreamily. “To capture a man like Xavier Sterling, she must have been a legendary beauty.” A legendary beauty? I felt a ghost of a smirk touch my lips. Only last week, my daughter had pointed at my waist and told me I was getting soft, nothing like the fit, toned socialites her father spent time with. “Ma’am? Is the form ready? I’ll take it to the hiring manager.” I handed her the clipboard. “Great. This way, Ms… Ms. Vance.” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as if she’d seen a ghost. 02 The interview went perfectly. Mr. Miller looked at my resume with genuine awe. “State valedictorian, First in class at MIT Computer Science, three lead-author papers in top-tier journals… Ms. Vance, your credentials are breathtaking. My only question is: why did you stop working immediately after graduation?” I gripped the hem of my slacks, my voice low but steady. “To raise my daughter.” I had gotten pregnant accidentally at twenty-two. Xavier’s mother, the matriarch of the Sterling family, despised me. In her world, Xavier was meant to marry a European heiress, not a scholarship girl from a broken home. She used brutal tactics to drive me away. I still remember her—red lips, cold eyes, a line of silent security guards behind her. The sky was black. The ocean was a churning abyss. I jumped from that cliff in Rhode Island to escape them. Back then, everyone thought I was dead. Perhaps the fall damaged my body, because when my daughter was born, she was incredibly fragile. She had severe allergies and couldn’t tolerate formula. Her little face would swell up, and she would cry through the night. I was a shell of a woman, a weakened mother navigating the terrors of a high-needs newborn alone. Mr. Miller nodded, understanding. “Ms. Vance, you’ve been out of the industry for a long time. I can only offer you an entry-level associate position to start. Is that acceptable?” I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” He stood up and shook my hand. “Then welcome to the team.” As I took his hand, my heart raced. It was the same thumping rhythm I felt the day I got my acceptance letter to MIT. This was it. My second step toward life. 03 The next morning, I walked into the office, only to find Mr. Miller looking at me with profound guilt. “I’m so sorry, Evelyn. The offer… it’s been rescinded.” I froze. “Why?” He swallowed hard and pointed toward the corner office. “We were just acquired. The new CEO… he said he didn’t approve of your hire.” I turned my head. The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a golden glow over the man sitting in the leather executive chair. He was tall, wearing a bespoke charcoal suit. His legs were crossed, revealing expensive silk socks. The chair swiveled slowly. Straight nose, thin lips, a razor-sharp jawline. His only accessory was an eight-figure watch on his wrist. He radiated the kind of power that didn’t need to be announced. Xavier Sterling suppressed his rage, his voice a low growl. “Evelyn, haven’t you had enough of this game? Our daughter is waiting for you at home.” He looked around at the yellowing walls and the cheap water cooler of the office, a sneer touching his lips. “What were you planning to make here? Six grand a month? I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for these tantrums.” I looked at this man—the man I had been entangled with since I was twenty—and I suddenly wanted to laugh. “What would I go back for, Xavier?” I asked softly. “To help your mistress through her pregnancy? I’m not that desperate.” Xavier rubbed his temples. “How many times do I have to tell you? I was drunk that night. I don’t even remember it.” The sound of clicking heels echoed in the hallway. The door creaked open, and a woman in nude stilettos stepped in. Sierra White was dressed in a chic professional suit, her porcelain legs visible beneath a slate-grey skirt. Her hair fell in long, perfect waves. Her stomach was slightly rounded, yet she still looked runway-ready. She placed a file on Xavier’s desk, her voice soft and melodic. “Mr. Sterling, here is the final acquisition contract for your review.” It felt like a sledgehammer to my chest. I took a deep breath, forcing back the sting in my eyes, and looked at him coldly. “You’re not very creative, are you? Stalking your ex-wife while bringing your pregnant mistress along for the ride.” Xavier frowned, his impatience flaring. “Sierra isn’t like that. She’s my Chief of Staff. Who else would I bring to a merger meeting?” He glanced at me, his eyes mocking. “Oh, I forgot. You’ve never actually worked. You wouldn’t understand professional life.” Every word was a knife. I felt like a wet rag was being pressed against my heart. The eighteen-year-old Evelyn was a valedictorian with the world at her feet. There was a banner with my name on it at my high school. Everyone knew who I was. The people in my small town cheered for me: “That Vance girl is going to be a titan of industry!” The twenty-two-year-old Evelyn was the President of the Student Union. I represented my university at international conferences in Vienna. I spoke fluent German and English, standing tall in grand halls with absolute confidence. Underclassmen would point at me and whisper: “Look, that’s Evelyn. She’s a legend.” How did the thirty-five-year-old Evelyn end up as this? Sierra turned to me, her young, beautiful face full of feigned sympathy. “Evelyn, please don’t blame Xavier. The night of the company gala… we were both very drunk. I was going to handle it quietly, but Xavier’s mother found out. She took me for an ultrasound. It’s a boy. That’s the only reason I’m keeping him.” She stroked her stomach, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips. “You know how much the Matriarch wants a male heir for the Sterling name. You couldn’t give them one. Xavier has been protecting you from his mother’s pressure for years.” A wave of utter absurdity washed over me. I gripped my throat, the phantom sensation of seawater filling my lungs returning to me. I began to laugh—a sharp, bitter sound. “Why I didn’t have another child? That old woman knows exactly why. I told you, Xavier. Scarlett is my only child. I am done being a Sterling incubator.” “Have it your way.” Xavier stood up. At six-foot-two, he towered over me. His shadow swallowed me whole. His face was as grim as the rain outside. “In your twenties, this behavior was charming. A little ‘will-they-won’t-they’ to keep things spicy. In your thirties, it’s not cute anymore. It’s just stupid.” He leaned in, his voice cold. “Think long and hard, Evelyn. You have no resources of your own.” 04 Over the next week, I applied to eight different firms. Without exception, Xavier blocked every single one. I was specialized in high-end tech, and the Sterling family owned the infrastructure of the industry. He put out the word: any company that hired me would be blacklisted from the National Tech Summit next year. The doors slammed shut. HR managers who had been excited to talk to an MIT grad hung up the moment they saw the name “Evelyn Vance.” Xavier called me, his tone leisurely. “Running out of cash yet? Come home, apologize to my mother, and you can still be the Lady of Sterling Manor.” I clenched my fists so hard my nails drew blood in my palms. “Never.” After we married, Xavier gave me a black card with no limit. I could buy diamonds, designer bags, and luxury cars with a swipe. But I couldn’t withdraw a single cent of cash. That marriage, that family… it was a gilded cage. Beautiful, solid, and envied by the world. But I was suffocating inside. The next day, I stood in front of a blue-collar staffing agency. “Thirty an hour. Ten-hour shifts. Paid daily. You go where the clients need you—mostly residential cleaning.” A woman with tight curls looked me up and down, unimpressed. “You look like an academic. Can you actually handle manual labor?” I took the uniform. “Don’t underestimate me. I’m a fast learner.” My parents died when I was thirteen. To survive, to keep myself in school, I had waitressed in diners, scrubbed cars at a local garage, and folded clothes at a mall. When I first got with Xavier, people told me: “Evelyn, you don’t belong in his world.” I knew. He went on safaris in Africa and watched the Northern Lights in private villas. Everywhere he went, the world cleared a path for him. And me? Before I was eighteen, I had never even left my county. Twelve years of marriage made me believe I was walking side-by-side with him. I thought our story was like a romance novel with a ‘happily ever after.’ But the story ended, and life kept going. Life is about the mundane. It’s about the power dynamics created by class. It’s the subtle arrogance of the rich and the loss of voice for the poor. It’s like a fine layer of sand between us. At first, it’s just a minor irritation on the skin. But over time, those tiny grains become a constant, grinding torture. You can’t see them, you can’t count them, and you can’t wash them away. I changed into the cleaning uniform, looking in the mirror at the bare-faced woman without jewelry. She once wore the finest Chanel and held champagne flutes at galas. Lady of the Manor or cleaning lady—it didn’t matter. A person has to survive before they can talk about dignity. 05 In my second week, I was assigned to a high-end art gallery. There was a private exhibition that day, and the gallery requested extra staff. Working with me was a scrawny boy. His skin was tanned, he was thin and looked undernourished, but his eyes were incredibly dark and bright. Like stars. I asked, “How old are you?” “Sixteen.” I chuckled. “No way. My daughter is twelve, and you don’t look much older than her. Thirteen, tops.” The boy looked at me in a panic. “Please don’t report me. I really need this job.” I shook my head gently. “I won’t.” I knew what it was like to be thirteen and desperate. The boy relaxed and gave me a shy, toothy grin. For the next two hours, he followed me around. He had the endless energy of a growing kid. “That bucket is too heavy, let me carry it.” “I’ll hold the ladder, don’t fall.” I handed him a napkin. “Wipe your forehead. What’s your name?” “Parker.” Parker smiled at me, then tilted his head, looking at me closely. “Ma’am… is something wrong with your left eye? You don’t seem to see things on that side.” I paused. “How did you notice?” All these years, even my husband and daughter hadn’t noticed. The boy gestured to the gap between me and the canvas I was dusting. “Your depth perception is off when you look that way. Is it from a sickness?” I shook my head. “No. A gunshot wound. I was saving my ex-husband and my daughter.” The boy’s eyes went wide. “Wow. They must be so grateful.” I tried to smile, but my lips felt heavy. I probably just looked like I was grimacing. “They don’t even remember it happened.” I touched the prosthetic eye on my left side, a wave of bitterness washing over me. The two people who should have been closest to me were entirely oblivious to the scars on my heart and the scars on my body. “Don’t cry, Ma’am.” Parker stood in front of me, using his small, dusty hand to wipe a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. Did I… cry? Parker puffed out his cheeks. “They’re just blind! They’re the ones in the wrong! From now on, I’ll help you carry things. I’ll be your left eye. If anyone tries to bully you, I’ll fight them for you!” His innocent, sincere words warmed a cold corner of my heart. My lips finally curled into a real smile. “Okay, it’s a deal. From now on, Parker is my eyes. Pinky swear?” The boy laughed, his dark face lighting up, and hooked his pinky with mine. “Pinky swear! Locked and sealed for a hundred years!” 06 The gallery wasn’t open to the public yet. Only a few VVIPs with special invitations were allowed in early. Parker and I were carefully wiping the dust off the ornate frames. From the distance, a soft, familiar voice drifted over: “Scarlett, look at this. This is a Tobias original. If you like it, I’ll buy it for you as an early birthday gift, okay?” The name hit me like a physical blow. I froze. I saw her. My daughter, Scarlett Sterling. Scarlett was wearing a designer silk dress, her tulle skirts blooming like a flower. In her hair was an eight-carat diamond clip. She was walking arm-in-arm with Sierra, looking closer than ever. “Thanks, Auntie Sierra. But we already have three of his pieces at the townhouse. I want to see something more realistic today.” Next to her were three or four kids her age—the children of New York’s elite. Sierra looked up and caught my eye. She didn’t look surprised; she looked like she had planned this. She raised her voice, pointing at the wall right behind me. “Scarlett, what do you think of that painting?” My heart leaped into my throat. Instinctively, I wanted to cover my face. I was never ashamed of hard work, but in front of Scarlett and her friends, I wanted to keep one last shred of dignity. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Don’t let my daughter see her mother like this. The universe didn’t hear my prayer. Like a slow-motion scene in a movie, Scarlett turned her head. Sierra covered her mouth, her expression a caricature of surprise. “Oh my god, Scarlett! That cleaning lady looks exactly like your mother!” Scarlett’s gaze swept over my uniform, my bucket, and the rag in my hand. She didn’t hesitate for a single second. She turned away. “That’s not my mom,” she said flatly. “I told you guys. My mom is dead.” The words exploded in my ears like a thunderclap. My vision blurred. I nearly collapsed. My hand caught the sharp edge of a metal display rack, and I felt a hot sting as blood began to bloom across my palm. Sierra laughed. She pinched Scarlett’s cheek affectionately. “Well then, what kind of new mom does little Scarlett want?” Scarlett hugged Sierra, leaning her head against her chest, her voice sweet and clingy. “I want a mom like you, Auntie Sierra! Smart, beautiful, and someone who actually does things instead of just watching me all day.” It felt like a hand had reached into my chest and was squeezing my heart into pulp. The pain was so intense I didn’t even feel the blood dripping from my hand. I was the one who carried her for ten months. I was the one who spent twenty-four hours in labor, screaming in pain to bring her into the world. I was the one who nursed her until my skin cracked, feeding her with my own blood and milk. I was the one who spent years without a full night’s sleep, humming lullabies until my voice went hoarse. And she wished I were dead. She was calling another woman “Mom.” Suddenly, a dark little blur streak past me. Parker lunged in front of Scarlett. He shoved her back and shouted at the top of his lungs: “Your mom is standing right here! Are you blind?!” 07 Chaos erupted. Blood was pooling on the floor from my hand. Parker and Scarlett were on the ground after the shove. Sierra was clutching her stomach, slowly sinking to the floor in a “faint.” The sirens of the ambulance, the screams of the socialites, the frantic footsteps—it all blurred together. When I finally came to, I was in a hospital. Everyone was hovering over Sierra. My hand had stopped bleeding on its own, leaving a crusty, dark mess of blood across my palm and wrist. No one had treated it. Xavier stormed into the hallway, still in his suit, his face a mask of fury. He didn’t even check to see if I was okay before he started shouting. “Evelyn! What the hell are you doing?! Do you want the whole city to know Scarlett has a mother who scrubs toilets? How is she supposed to show her face to her friends?! And that brat you were with… he lunged at Sierra. Sierra is pregnant! She’s fragile! She fainted from the shock. When she wakes up, you are going to apologize to her. And then this is over.” Me? Apologize to Sierra? The absurdity was so great that I actually started laughing. Xavier hissed, “What are you laughing at?” I held up my blood-stained hand in front of his face. “Maybe you should open your eyes, Xavier. Your mistress isn’t the only one who got hurt today.” Xavier went silent for a moment. “I’ll call a nurse.” “Don’t bother,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “The CEO is a busy man. By the time you remember I exist, I’ll have probably bled out.” Xavier rubbed his brow, looking exhausted. “At least go see Scarlett.” I was silent for a moment. I didn’t want to see Scarlett. I wanted my pendant back. The jadeite pendant my mother gave me. 08 I was thirteen when my mother got sick. She lay in that hospital bed, her eyes sunken, her skeletal hand over mine. “Evelyn, baby… I don’t think I have much time left.” Her shaky, jaundiced hand reached behind her neck and unclipped a red silk cord. On it was a simple green teardrop pendant. It was smooth and cool to the touch, radiating a quiet, peaceful glow. She tied it around my neck with trembling fingers. “This was your grandmother’s. It’s for protection. I’m giving it to you, Evelyn. I don’t pray for you to be rich or powerful. I just want you to be safe. To be at peace.” There was such profound sorrow in her eyes—the grief of a mother who knew she was leaving her child alone. “I haven’t done enough for you. I’m so sorry you had to suffer. Evelyn… from now on, you have to walk the road alone.” I gripped her hand, sobbing her name, but she was already fading. She went from a healthy woman to a shadow, and finally, she was just a small urn. I held that urn against my cheek, trying to find the warmth of her hug. “Mom…” “Mom.” “MOM!” But no one would ever answer that call again. That pendant became my most sacred possession. I wore it every second for over ten years. Until Scarlett was born. When Xavier’s mother forced me off that cliff, I was four months pregnant. The impact, the terror, the freezing Atlantic… it was too much. I was rescued, and after three months of bed rest in a hidden clinic, Scarlett was born premature. She was so tiny. So blue. She was in the NICU, fighting for every breath. I gripped that pendant until it cut into my palm, kneeling outside the glass, praying over and over: If there is a God, please. Please save my daughter. I’ll give up my years, my happiness, my soul—just let her live. The white walls of a hospital hear more sincere prayers than any church. Three months later, Scarlett was out of danger. I looked at her sleeping face, tears streaming down my cheeks, and tied the pendant around her neck. It was my life. Half of it stayed with me; the greater half went to my daughter.

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Transported back to age eighteen, I was forced to drop out of school and ended up tightening screws in a factory.In the middle of the noisy factory floor, the owner’s son stood with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looked around with a reckless, arrogant smirk. “I’m starting my own tech company,” he announced. “Who’s crazy enough to come with me?” Dead silence. Then, one hand went up. Mine. My coworkers said my brain was fried. My cousin laughed at my delusions. My parents screamed that I just needed to shut up and keep screwing bolts for minimum wage. I just smiled. They didn’t know anything. Twenty years later, that arrogant guy would be sitting at the top of the Forbes billionaire list. 1 I was eighteen again, and I had just been handed my expulsion papers. In our cramped living room, my father’s roaring voice was deafening. “Stealing from other students! You’ve completely dragged our family name through the mud!” My mother chimed in, equally furious. “You couldn’t just go to school and be normal? Look at your cousin Emily. Thank God she put in a good word for you, or you’d be sitting in a jail cell right now!” The memories of my past life rushed back. I had been framed for theft by a classmate. The teachers didn’t care about the truth; they pinned it on me and dragged me to the principal’s office. The school was having a crackdown on stealing, and the principal wanted to make an example out of me. He threatened to call the cops. That was when my cousin, Emily Carter, stepped in with tears in her eyes, begging for mercy on my behalf. In the end, the principal let it go—on the condition that I voluntarily withdraw from the school. Back then, I treated Emily like my savior. It wasn’t until years later, when I was working a dead-end retail job and ran into an old classmate, that I found out the truth: the entire setup was orchestrated by Emily from the start. Seeing me space out, my dad raised his hand. I didn’t dodge. I took the heavy slap straight across the face. My whole body ached. This wasn’t the first time they had hit me today. “Pack your bags and get out tomorrow morning!” my dad yelled. “Whether you live or die out there is your own damn problem!” I nodded, silently turning and walking back to my “room.” It was barely a room—just a tiny, partitioned closet next to the kitchen. The light was dim. I had zero privacy. Right on the other side of the thin wall was my brother Kyle’s room. He had a massive bed and, a true luxury for a working-class family in the late 90s, a brand-new desktop computer. A birthday gift from our parents. Sitting on my cot, the reality of my rebirth finally washed over me. In my past life, I always thought that if I could just go back in time, I’d fight tooth and nail to prove my innocence and stay in high school. But the damage was already done. Right now, I had no money, no power, and no way to fight back against awful people. But that was fine. School wasn’t the only way out. Early the next morning, I left “home.” I had one duffel bag and twenty bucks I had scraped together. I hopped on a Greyhound bus heading straight for the industrial side of the city. In my previous life, after I was expelled, I was weak and defeated. My parents beat me and berated me daily until they got sick of looking at me and found me a job. Emily’s mother, my Aunt Susan, worked as an accountant at a local manufacturing plant. She dragged me in to be a factory girl, screwing bolts on the assembly line all day with room and board included. That soul-crushing, repetitive, dirt-cheap labor stole four years of my youth. This time, I didn’t wait for her introduction. I went straight to the factory myself. Following behind the floor manager, I pulled on a pair of work gloves, grabbed my tools, and walked onto the familiar, deafening assembly floor. Because in this life, I had a very specific target. “Damn it, who the hell stepped on me?!” The low, annoyed growl made me jump. I quickly pulled my foot back. I had left a dusty boot print right on top of a perfectly shined leather shoe. I followed the shoe up to the face, and my breath hitched. The young man had frosted blonde tips, a dragon tattoo winding down his forearm, and a furious scowl on his face. He looked like a thug. But I wasn’t scared. I had seen him in financial magazines, wearing tailored suits, his eyes sharp and his smile warm. The contrast with the guy standing in front of me was jarring. “Boss,” the manager said, turning to me nervously. “She’s new… apologize, now!” I looked right into his eyes. “Sorry.” He stared back. After a few seconds of dead silence, he asked, “You aren’t scared of me?” I shook my head. “Interesting.” Caleb Vance ran his tongue over his teeth. “Little factory girl, you’d do well to stay out of my way.” He turned on his heel to leave. “I’m not a factory girl,” I called out to his arrogant back. “My name is Chloe.” 2 Working the line was brutal. Two days in, I had three massive blisters on my hands. Worse, Aunt Susan spotted me. She put on a fake, overly warm smile. “Well, look who it is! Your parents didn’t even tell me you came down here. You should have said something, sweetie, I could have found you a decent position.” I sneered internally. Wasn’t this the exact “decent position” you threw me into in my last life? But I kept my face blank. “I wouldn’t want to bother you, Aunt Susan. We can catch up later.” I didn’t expect to see Emily the very next day. “Chloe! Where have you been hiding? I was so worried about you.” She grabbed my hands. Her fake sincerity was even more polished than her mother’s. I really couldn’t blame my past self for not seeing through her. “Screwing bolts,” I said flatly. “Oh, I really don’t know much about that… I just came to share some good news! I scored in the top thirty on the state mock exams. My guidance counselor says if I keep this up, I’m guaranteed a spot at a top-tier university!” She came all the way to the factory just to rub this in my face. How “sweet.” “Is that so?” I smiled faintly. “Have you figured out your major yet? If you pick the wrong one, even a fancy degree won’t get you a good job.” Emily bristled. “That’s impossible!” “Why is it impossible?” I shot back. “Look at Mr. Henderson from our neighborhood. He went to a big state school, and now he’s running a dusty corner store. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up—” “It’s still better than being a factory rat!” Wow, the mask slipped fast. Her face turned ugly. She paused, threw down a sharp “I have to go,” and spun around to storm off. “Damn it!” That familiar low growl echoed. I looked up to see Emily had crashed right into someone’s chest. She stumbled back. “S-sorry…” Caleb stood there, looking absolutely murderous. Emily squeaked in terror and practically jogged away. Caleb crossed his arms, tilting his head to look at me. “You know about college majors?” “A little.” He seemed amused. “Alright then. What major guarantees a good job?” “Computer Science.” It was the late 90s. The internet boom was just a faint rumble in the distance, but Caleb would be diving into the tech world very soon. His eyes lit up. But he quickly masked it with a lazy smirk. “The little factory girl has some vision.” I looked at him squarely. “My name is Chloe.” He chuckled. The fierce, thuggish aura melted away instantly, leaving something much softer. “Got it, little factory girl.” He stared at me, his eyes brimming with amusement. He was definitely teasing me. Suddenly, he reached out and flicked me right on the forehead. “I’m Caleb.” 3 After that, whenever I had free time, I found myself looking for Caleb around the plant. I vaguely remembered from my past life that Caleb had left the factory to start a business not long after I arrived. He had tried to recruit from the floor, but because he looked like a gangster and acted like a slacker, nobody wanted to follow him. But I knew that the handful of outsiders he eventually hired ended up incredibly wealthy. Reborn, I didn’t care about becoming a billionaire. I just wanted to catch the wind of the era so I wouldn’t have to scrape by in my middle age. After watching him, I realized Caleb wasn’t the deadbeat he pretended to be. Most of the time, he was sitting in front of a heavy CRT monitor, reading thick books and typing lines of code. The factory workers didn’t know anything about computers; they all assumed he was playing video games. People loved to gossip with me. “Don’t let Caleb’s attitude fool you. He acts tough, but when his older brother comes back from studying abroad, Marcus is taking over the company. Caleb will be left with nothing.” It was true. Caleb had an older brother. In my past life, everyone—myself included—thought Caleb was going to end up a tragic washout. But I knew better now. “No,” I argued back. “He’s going to be untouchable.” One night after my shift, I intentionally dragged my feet, taking the long way around past Caleb’s office. The light was still on. He was typing away. I watched for a moment, then turned to leave. Suddenly, footsteps echoed behind me. “Hey.” I froze. In the dim hallway, Caleb was leaning lazily against the wall, head tilted. “The dorms are the other way. You don’t need to pass through here.” Caught in the act, I panicked. I dropped my gaze, scrambling for an excuse. Caleb walked toward me, stopping when he was dangerously close. I could smell a clean, masculine scent mixed with faint tobacco. I instinctively looked up. His eyes were smiling. His handsome face was relaxed, completely free of the aggression he wore during the day. In the low light, he suddenly leaned down, his lips hovering right next to my ear. “This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you sneaking around, kid,” he whispered. His voice was husky, a low vibration in his chest. “Don’t tell me you’ve got a crush on me.” 4 I stumbled back. “N-no. I don’t.” He raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with mischief. I awkwardly looked away. “I was just curious about what you were doing…” “Is that right?” He stood up straight. “And did you figure it out?” I shook my head. He smiled again. For some reason, he seemed to smile a lot tonight. He jutted his chin toward his office. “Well, I guess I’ll be generous. Come on in.” I obediently followed him. The monitor was glowing, surrounded by stacks of programming textbooks. “What kind of books are these?” I asked, playing dumb. Honestly, I was genuinely curious. With Caleb’s intelligence, he could have easily gone to a top university. There was no reason for him to stay stuck in a factory teaching himself, letting everyone look down on him. He leaned against the desk, picking up one of the books. “If you went to college for Computer Science, this is the stuff they’d make you read.” I stared at him. He let out a soft scoff. “You used to be a straight-A student, didn’t you?” I blinked, surprised. “Yeah.” “So why’d you quit?” I bit my lip. I hadn’t planned on hiding it. After a moment of silence, I told him everything—the framing, the expulsion, the betrayal. He didn’t get dramatically angry. He didn’t demand I go fight for my honor or seek revenge. He just listened quietly. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. Then he let out a low, self-deprecating laugh. “When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong.” The warm yellow bulb overhead flickered. Caleb leaned by the window, the shadows hiding his expression. I really wanted to say something. Something like, I believe you. Or, When are you starting your company? Can you take me with you? Before I could speak, he crushed his cigarette in an ashtray. The arrogant, reckless aura snapped back into place. “Little factory girl,” he said, looking at me. “I’m giving you half the day off tomorrow. You’re coming with me.” I opened my mouth to correct him about my name, but he cut me off. For the first time, he used my real name. “Chloe.” Even though his face looked impatient and awkward, I found it kind of endearing. Even without knowing where we were going, I smiled. “Okay.” 5 It was almost lights-out by the time I got back to the dorm. Jessica Miller, the girl on the bottom bunk, suddenly spoke up. “Where were you?” “Just walking around.” She was a few years older than me, an assembly line veteran. She had a massive ego and almost never spoke to me. She paused for a few seconds. “Why do I keep seeing you sneaking around the boss’s office?” I froze. I refused to give her anything. “You must have seen wrong.” “You better hope I did.” Jessica snapped her bed curtains shut. After the lights went out, her words echoed in my head. In my past life, I hadn’t interacted with her much, so I didn’t understand what her problem was until I was drifting off to sleep. Then it hit me. When Caleb’s older brother, Marcus, came back from overseas, Jessica wasted no time hooking up with him and moving out of the dorms. Everyone thought she was going to marry him, but even up until I left the factory, they were just messing around. Later, I heard Marcus married a wealthy executive’s daughter but kept Jessica on the side. Eventually, the rich wife found out. She forgave her husband, but absolutely destroyed Jessica’s life… Thinking of that, I understood why she hated me. She probably thought we were the same kind of people. She saw me as competition for the Vance family fortune. So now, she was taking every opportunity to tear me down. But I didn’t feel the need to jump out of bed and defend myself. Caleb was right. When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong. I was going to leave this place soon anyway. My history with these people would end here. I rolled over. The girls on the bottom bunk suddenly went quiet. I sneered internally and closed my eyes. 6 The next day, I only worked a half shift. Caleb must have tipped off the foreman, because the second I asked for leave, he waved me off. I hadn’t brought many clothes from home. I stripped off my greasy uniform and threw on a simple cotton dress. Walking out of the factory gates, I spotted Caleb waiting in the distance. He was dressed sharp today—a green bomber jacket, dark jeans, his frosted hair styled. He looked like a movie star. Seeing me, he paused, looking me up and down with a roguish grin. “Well, look at you. Playing the schoolgirl today?” I nervously twisted the hem of my dress. He stomped out his cigarette. “Let’s go.” We got on a city bus. It was mostly empty. He sat one row behind me, leaning across the aisle. I stared out the window, keeping quiet. About twenty minutes later, Caleb draped his arm over the back of my seat. “Kid.” I looked back. He was squinting, wearing that same dangerous look from the hallway last night. “Aren’t you going to ask where I’m taking you?” I kept a straight face. “Where are we going?” He leaned closer. I caught the faint smell of tobacco. His husky voice was right next to my ear. “A motel.” My brain short-circuited. My first reaction was No way. But then I remembered how unhinged and unpredictable he acted. Would he actually… “We’re here.” His eyes were crinkling with suppressed laughter. I shot up out of my seat and looked out the window. It was early summer. The breeze rustled through the lush green trees lining the street. We weren’t at a motel. We were standing in front of the grand iron gates of the state’s most prestigious university. 7 I never expected Caleb to bring me to a college campus. Stepping off the bus, he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked forward like he owned the place. The security guard at the gate took one look at him and clearly decided he didn’t belong. He stepped in Caleb’s way. Caleb casually pulled something out of his pocket. The guard checked it, nodded, and waved him through. Caleb looked back, signaling me to follow. The guard didn’t even look at me. “What did you just show him?” I asked. He tossed it to me. “A student ID?” I stared at the plastic card. It had his photo and his name. I was stunned. “You’re a student here?!” “Kid, don’t be so gullible.” He smirked. “I paid a guy ten bucks under an overpass to print that.” “…” Fine. Caleb clearly knew his way around. He led me through a maze of pathways and into a massive brick building. Just as he was about to push open a set of double doors, I grabbed his arm. “We’re going in there?” He nodded. Seeing my hesitation, he smiled. “Aren’t you curious what a real college lecture looks like?” Of course I was. Whether in my past life or this one, I had never set foot inside a university. I took a deep breath and followed him in. College in the 90s wasn’t exactly high-tech. The wooden desks, the chalkboards, the faded posters on the walls—it felt vintage. But to me, it was bright, expansive, and brimming with the hopeful energy of youth. No one paid attention to us. Everyone was doing their own thing. It was an atmosphere of open-minded freedom I had never experienced. Even when the professor walked in, I was still stuck in a daze. That was when I noticed Caleb pulling a book out of his bag. It was the exact same textbook the other students had on their desks. The same book he kept in his factory office. So what he was studying every day… was the actual university curriculum? For the next hour, aside from the professor’s opening joke, I didn’t understand a single word. Caleb, on the other hand, was dead focused. It was a rare look of total seriousness. The sunlight caught the edge of his desk. In that moment, he seemed to be glowing. When class ended, I followed him out. “So…” I couldn’t help but ask. “You’re just… crashing their classes?” Caleb looked back at me. “Kid, don’t make it sound so cheap,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I had to buy a lot of beers to get these guys to let me copy their syllabuses.” Honestly, I didn’t like it when he called me ‘kid’. It made me feel like just another naive girl in his orbit. I lowered my head and walked silently ahead of him. “What’s wrong?” He caught up effortlessly, his tone casual. “You don’t look too thrilled, ki—” “My name is Chloe.” I stopped and looked up at him. He froze. Then, he smiled. He smiled a lot around me, but this was the first time it looked genuine. Not teasing. Not a smirk. Just a real smile. “My mistake.” He raised an eyebrow. “So, would you do me the honor of grabbing some dinner?” He paused, his lips curving up. “Chloe.” 8 We ate in the city and caught the last bus back to the factory. I knew absolutely nothing about computers, but I shamelessly asked to borrow his textbooks. If he was going to conquer the internet boom, I wanted to build my own value so I could ride the wave with him. Caleb looked amused, tossing me a couple of thick manuals. “These are just the basics, but they’re dense. Don’t come crying to me when your brain hurts.” I rolled my eyes. Whether he was calling me “factory girl” or “kid,” this guy still treated me like a child. But regardless, we were getting close. After that, whenever I wasn’t on the clock, I found a quiet corner to read, and whenever I had a chance, I used the computer in his office. Even though it was just basic programming, every little step of progress made me incredibly happy. But inevitably, rumors about me and Caleb started spreading through the factory. The first time I heard them was in my own dorm. I had terrible cramps that day and called out sick, lying curled up in my bunk. My roommates came back. Thinking the room was empty, they sat down and started gossiping. The topic bounced around the factory before landing on me. “Has Chloe been spending a lot of time with the boss lately?” someone asked. “A blind man could see it,” Jessica Miller scoffed. “I called her out on it and she played dumb.” “What’s her endgame?” another girl asked. “The factory owner hates him. Once his brother comes back, Caleb is nothing. With that slacker attitude, what kind of future does he have?” Jessica laughed coldly. “Who knows? She probably doesn’t know the inside scoop. Just a pathetic girl trying to marry rich.” I stared at the ceiling, listening to them tear us down. I didn’t jump down and yell at them. Caleb was right. When no one believes you, everything you say is wrong. I’d be leaving this place soon enough. I rolled over, making the mattress creak. The voices below instantly vanished. I smirked in the dark and went back to sleep.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “414039”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

[Breaking: Rumor has it the CEO’s daughter is doing an undercover internship in our department!!!] The message popped up in our department’s Slack channel. I watched as my true identity was supposedly “exposed.” Then, Harper Sterling replied in the chat, dripping with fake humility: “Since I’m undercover, I really just want to keep a low profile and prove my own abilities. Let’s all just focus on our work, okay? Instantly, my coworkers—including my own boyfriend—started kissing up to her. Me, the actual CEO’s daughter: … 1 Every year before the company’s Winter Holiday Gala, employee bonuses included limited-edition blind box figures. Right before the holidays, our department’s group chat was buzzing with speculation about this year’s theme. Mid-conversation, Harper dropped a photo into the chat: “This year’s theme is The Olympian Gods. Don’t leak this to anyone outside the department, guys!” I stared at the screen, stunned. That kind of internal mock-up was restricted to the executive admin team. Harper was just an accounting intern like me. How did she get it? Britney Hayes was the first to reply: “OMG! Only top-floor executives get intel like this early! Harper, confess! How long is a billionaire heiress like you planning to play undercover with us peasants?” “Holy crap, so the rumors about the CEO’s daughter interning here are true?!” “The signs were all there! Harper’s last name is Sterling, and our CEO is Mr. Sterling!” “I knew Harper was built different. That canvas tote bag she carries every day? It looks so chic, totally not something us corporate slaves could afford.” I glanced at the plain, unbranded canvas bag on Harper’s desk. We had a dozen of those at my house—they were complimentary dust bags from luxury boutiques that our maids used to carry groceries. The coworkers were blowing this way out of proportion. I figured Harper would step up and clarify the misunderstanding. After all, the Sterling family had produced nothing but boys for three generations. I was my dad’s only precious daughter. Besides me, there was absolutely no other “CEO’s daughter” in this company. My dad adored my mom. When I was born, my mom insisted I take her maiden name, Bennett. My dad agreed without a second thought. So, I was Chloe Bennett. Sure enough, Harper replied a minute later. However, her response was: “Since it’s an undercover stint, I just want to keep a low profile and prove my worth. Let’s not discuss this anymore, guys. Let’s just do our jobs! Me: … Talk about gaslighting. That non-denial was practically a megaphone. As soon as she sent that, the chat went wild. Coworker A: “Princess! I really want the Athena figure! Mercury is in retrograde and my luck is awful. Could you pull some strings and get me one? I’ll carry your bags for a month! puppy dog eyes” Coworker B: “Princess Harper! I want one too! I’ll buy your coffee every day!” Britney: “Back off, guys! Princess Harper, I want the whole Olympian set! Hahahaha!” “I’d die for the full set! Princess, I will be your loyal servant for life!” I read the messages and held back a laugh, assuming Harper wouldn’t dare respond. My dad’s corporation was massive, and the rules were incredibly strict. The whole point of the blind boxes was for employees to enjoy the thrill of the draw. Because of that, even family members like me didn’t get special privileges to bypass the system, let alone a mere intern. But Harper responded, shattering my expectations of just how bottomless her vanity was. “Alright,” she typed. “I’ll see what I can do. But just for you guys! The company rules are super strict, so keep it on the down-low.” I actually laughed out loud. She knew the rules were strict, yet she still made a promise she couldn’t keep. People calling her “Heiress” and “Princess” had clearly made her delusional. Sitting across from me, Harper looked up, a smug smile on her face. “Chloe, do you want a figure too?” I smiled back. “Can you really get company blind boxes early?” Britney’s sharp voice cut in. “Chloe, what kind of question is that? Are you doubting the CEO’s daughter? Typical try-hard charity case. You got a scholarship out of the boondocks and think you’re hot stuff, but you’ll never understand the superiority of someone born in Rome. Princess Harper, ignore her. Let’s go get lunch.” Harper didn’t address me or my question. Instead, she picked up a stack of files, looking distressed. “But the Director told me to organize these spreadsheets by noon, and I’m only half done…” Britney snatched the files and slammed them down on my desk. “Chloe, finish organizing these for Harper.” I tossed them right back at her. “Do your own work.” Britney threw them back at me, barking a command. “Harper is the Princess of this company! Don’t you try-hards love showing off? Letting you do the Princess’s work is doing you a favor. Got it?” I threw the files back one last time, muttered “Psychopath,” and stood up to leave for my lunch break. Britney shrieked behind me. “Don’t be an ungrateful bitch, Chloe! You think passing a few exams makes you special? Harper’s family owns this place! One word to her dad, and your chances of a full-time offer are dead!” I could have died laughing. The only one dreaming here was Harper. I was in a rush to meet my boyfriend for lunch and couldn’t be bothered to argue. I walked out, hearing several coworkers swarming Harper to brown-nose her, eagerly volunteering to do her spreadsheets. 2 My boyfriend, Derek Vance, and I had just sat down at a nice Italian place downstairs. Suddenly, Britney and a cluster of coworkers walked in, surrounding Harper like she was Beyoncé. Derek, who was usually indifferent to other women, suddenly stood up. He walked over to an empty table near us, pulled out a chair, and gave Harper a warm, charming smile. “Harper, there are empty seats here. You guys can sit.” Harper smiled sweetly at him. “Thank you, Derek.” Derek’s smile grew even softer. “Anytime.” I sat there, dumbfounded, staring at him. He hadn’t pulled my chair out for me when we arrived. Derek sat back down, leaned over the table, and whispered, “Harper is the CEO’s daughter.” I frowned. “So what?” Word traveled fast. Within a single morning, even Derek in the Engineering department knew. “She’s a big deal,” Derek said defensively. “If I get on her good side, it benefits both of us.” He then shot me a look of annoyance. “You shared a dorm with Harper for three years in college. How did you never tell me something this huge?” I was getting annoyed. “Even if she was the CEO’s daughter, what difference would it make?” Just then, the garlic butter shrimp Harper ordered arrived at her table. Derek stood up again. He leaned in, gritted his teeth, and whispered to me, “You are so dense it’s actually painful.” Then, abandoning his actual girlfriend, he scurried over to their table and started peeling shrimp for Harper. I swallowed my anger and called his name twice. He ignored me. Harper spoke up, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Thank you, Derek. But Chloe looks really mad. I know it’s no big deal that you’re helping me, but if she throws a tantrum, you’ll have to be the one to coax her. I don’t want you to get tired because of me. You should go back.” Derek wanted to stay, but a few male coworkers, eager to suck up to the “heiress,” aggressively nudged him out of the way. When Derek returned to our table, he glared at me like he wanted to stab me. I let out a cold laugh. “Derek, did you ever stop to think that if she isn’t the CEO’s daughter, your pathetic, gold-digging brown-nosing today is going to look incredibly embarrassing?” Derek’s face darkened. “I’m a gold-digger? You think I’m embarrassing? The only embarrassing one here is you! You’re dead broke, yet you strut around carrying a fake fifty-thousand-dollar Hermès Birkin! God knows what shady things you did to get that knockoff!” For safety reasons, I usually wore unbranded custom clothing and bags made by my family’s private designers. But one morning, I was running late for a major college lecture, panicked, and grabbed a custom, logo-less Hermès bag my mom had casually bought at a Paris runway show and left on the sofa. I didn’t expect Derek to recognize the silhouette. So his whole “I don’t care about material things” persona was a complete act. My affection and respect for him plummeted to absolute zero. I stood up with a cold face and left. I had completely lost my appetite. I had originally thought he was a talented engineer and was planning to recommend him to my dad for a promotion. Now, I realized that was entirely unnecessary. 3 Derek called me. Thinking he wanted to apologize, I answered. He didn’t apologize. Instead, he asked to borrow money. I hung up immediately. After work, he was waiting for me outside the office building. He pulled me into a quiet corner. The six-foot-tall man slumped his shoulders, looking pathetic. “It’s a family emergency. I really need $15,000 right now.” I shot back, “You’re friends with the ‘CEO’s daughter’ now. Go borrow it from her.” Derek looked even more pitiful. “Chloe, why can’t you understand me? Do you think I wanted to suck up to Harper? I did it for our future! If we make friends with the CEO’s daughter, wouldn’t our lives at the company be so much easier? Chloe, you’re the only one who can help me. If you don’t… my mom is screwed. If you don’t have the cash, that fake Hermès bag you have… give it to me. I can sell it, it should cover the cost…” I had met Derek’s mother. She was a hardworking, kind country woman. I had a good impression of her, and it was her kindness that had initially made me think highly of Derek. Hearing it was a medical emergency for his mom, I didn’t think twice. I told him he didn’t need to sell my bag, I would get the cash. I transferred him the $15,000. A day later, I got a call from one of my wealthy socialite friends. She said she saw my handsome boyfriend at an exclusive boutique buying a limited-edition designer dress. When buying it, he told the sales associate it was an anniversary gift for his girlfriend. It cost $12,000. My friend snapped a photo of the dress and sent it to me. She could tell I had no idea, so she said enviously, “Tsk, couldn’t tell your stoic little boyfriend was such a romantic! He bought your exact size. Just play dumb and get ready for the surprise!” I honestly didn’t know how to describe what I was feeling. Derek was usually incredibly stingy. Spending $12,000 was astronomical for him. I never imagined he would use his mother’s fake “medical emergency” to borrow $15,000 from me, just to buy a $12,000 dress. However, when our anniversary actually arrived, Derek didn’t even give me a greeting card. Instead, I saw the $12,000 limited-edition dress on Harper. 4 I shoved the photo my friend took directly into Derek’s face. “Is this what you meant by your mother having an emergency and needing cash?!” Derek turned beet red and stammered, “Harper… she thinks highly of me. She invited me to the movies the other night. I wanted to give her a gift in return. She’s rich, so she definitely wouldn’t care about a cheap gift… That’s why I borrowed the money from you…” I never expected that Harper, aside from being vain and manipulative, was also top-tier at stealing other people’s boyfriends behind their backs. I sneered. “So to you, the CEO’s daughter is your mother now? By that logic, Derek, don’t you have too many ‘mothers’ to keep track of?” “Chloe, that’s enough!” Derek roared, cutting me off. “We’re breaking up.” My heart stung for a second. It hurt a little. But I didn’t let it hurt for long. I was glad I discovered his true colors before revealing my real identity. I clenched my fists and looked him dead in the eye. “Fine. We’re done. I hope you never regret this. And even if you do, don’t you dare come crawling back to me begging for another chance!” “Look at your attitude! A woman should either have money or be submissive! You? You’re dead broke, and your personality is like a brick wall! Let me tell you, no man could stand your foul temper! I was blind to be with you, but now my vision is restored. Don’t even talk about this lifetime, I wouldn’t regret dumping you in eight lifetimes!” “Great. Please remember what you said today. Also, give me back the $15,000 you borrowed.” To a scumbag like him, giving him a single cent felt like an insult to my money. “You want to talk about money?!” He threw a small notebook at me. “Pay me back for all of this first!” I caught it and flipped through. Inside were line-by-line records of every single expense from our dates over the past few months. When my shoelace broke on the street and he bought me a two-dollar replacement, he logged it. Every meal, every cup of coffee—nothing was missed. The grand total was $200. The spare change on a single pen I had gifted him cost more than that, yet he logged every penny. I laughed out of sheer anger. “Fine. Deduct the $200 from the $15,000 you owe me. But the gifts I gave you—the designer belts, the fountain pens, the tailored shirts—you return all of them.” Derek scoffed disdainfully. “Those fake knockoffs? I threw them all in the trash the night Harper and I went to the movies.” “Then pay me back for their value. I have the receipts for everything. I’ll send them to you, and you will write me an IOU.” For once, Derek was eager about money. “Fine, I’ll write it! The cost of a single bag from my Harper’s closet will cover it. Don’t try to forge the receipts, I’ll have them verified.” Just a minute ago it was “Harper,” now it was “his Harper.” Pathetic. 5 I don’t know what methods she used, but Harper actually managed to get a set of the Olympian Gods figures. After that, her status in the department skyrocketed. An intern who hadn’t even been at the company for long suddenly received a private office—a perk reserved only for senior accountants. Brand new office supplies, a top-tier computer setup, you name it. Her desk was piled high with expensive lattes and snacks bought by our coworkers. Correspondingly, because I refused to worship her, I became the perfect target for contrast. I was relocated to a desk right next to the bathrooms. All the most tedious, awful tasks were dumped on me. In the breakroom, I accidentally overheard the gossip. This was all the “hard work” of VP Marcus Thorne. Britney looked at me, bossing me around arrogantly. “Chloe, go brew a cup of coffee for Harper. Make sure it’s pour-over. Harper is doing you a favor by specifically asking for you to make it.” “Where did this rat turd come from? Do you have a death wish? How dare you order our Chlo—” That arrogant voice belonged to my third brother, Luke Sterling. I acted fast, slapping a hand over his mouth and dragging him out of the breakroom. My dad named him Luke to be a beacon of light for the company. But aside from business, Luke was a master at partying and goofing off. Because of that, my dad “exiled” him to our department to do grunt work and gain some grounded experience alongside me. Everyone in our family spoiled me to death. Luke was no exception. Hearing me being ordered around, he looked ready to commit murder. But I had my own plans. I wanted to use this opportunity to smoke out all the rats in the company and genuinely do something useful for my dad’s business. Seeing my determination, Luke was moved. He agreed to team up with me to catch the rats. Luke asked about my boyfriend, mentioning that our second brother, Leo, was having a concert soon. He handed me three VIP tickets so I could take my boyfriend. I casually shoved the tickets into my pocket. Before I could tell Luke I had dumped the cheating loser, Britney followed us out, demanding I go make Harper’s coffee. Luke stepped right in front of her. At over six-foot-two, with a furious scowl, he looked terrifying. Britney glared at me but didn’t dare push it. She went to make the coffee herself. Barely a few steps away, she suddenly let out a deafening, groundhog-like shriek. “AHHHHHH! TICKETS TO LEO STERLING’S CONCERT!” Everyone turned to look. A few nearby coworkers ran over to see the tickets in her hand. Britney ignored them, sprinting straight into Harper’s office and giving her a massive bear hug. “Princess Harper! These Leo Sterling tickets must have dropped from your pocket, right?! You’re the CEO’s daughter, Leo Sterling is your actual biological brother, right?! There are two tickets—can I please have one?! I’m his biggest fan! Take me with you, and I will be your literal slave for life!” Harper only froze for a single second before her calm, arrogant facade returned. She smoothly took the two tickets Britney had “found.” “Sure, we can go together. It’s perfect since there are two tickets.” Watching this absurd play unfold, I blinked and reached into my pocket. That’s when I realized the concert tickets my brother had just given me were gone. I started walking straight toward Harper and Britney. 6 Luke followed right behind me. “I’m right here. You don’t even need to lift a finger. Just say the word, and I’ll wipe these rats off the face of the earth.” I held back my impulsive brother and gave him a specific instruction. “You got it.” Luke went off to do as I asked. Harper’s office was packed. Britney and several other coworkers were squeezed inside, all lured in by the holy grail of tickets to the global pop star’s sold-out concert. I walked into the office and asked her, “Harper, how do you know these tickets are yours?” Before Harper could answer, her loyal foot soldier, Britney, fired back. “Duh! If they aren’t Harper’s, are they yours, Chloe?!” Following her mockery, a few people chuckled. I raised an eyebrow and replied calmly, “Yes. They’re mine.” The office fell dead silent for three seconds. Then Britney burst into hysterical laughter. “Yours?! Hahaha! Chloe, has Princess Harper’s natural superiority finally driven you insane? A broke intern claims that VIP tickets to Leo Sterling—which cost over a thousand bucks each—are hers?” Harper smiled tactfully, but her words were far more vicious. “Chloe, it’s normal to want to see my brother Leo’s concert. But how can you claim things that aren’t yours? I think your obsession with Leo is making you delusional. Do you want me to recommend a good psychiatrist?” I didn’t waste any more breath on them. I called Luke to bring the evidence over. There was a security camera right outside the breakroom in the hallway. I had sent Luke to pull the security footage. Luke was ruthless. He wheeled in a projector and cast the security footage onto the large white wall in the accounting office. On the screen, it clearly showed the tickets falling out of my pocket, and Britney picking them up. The entire sequence was crystal clear. The laughter in the office died. Coworkers began whispering. “Holy crap, they really are Chloe’s.” “But Britney swore they were Harper’s?” “Yeah, and when Chloe asked Harper, Harper didn’t even deny it. She acted exactly like they were hers.” “The CEO’s daughter tried to steal an intern’s concert tickets? What the hell?” … Harper’s face was completely blank. She gripped the tickets so tightly her knuckles turned white, looking like she wanted to crush them into dust. Britney’s expression was the definition of mortification. She stood frozen for a moment, then turned to look at Harper. Harboring a bit of resentment, yet too afraid to be too aggressive, Britney asked carefully, “Harper… are these tickets… not yours?” Harper turned her head away, shifting the blame onto her. “When did I ever say the ones you picked up were mine?” Britney: “But…” Harper smoothly downplayed it: “I do have tickets, but I put them in my bag. You brought these over, and I just assumed they were the ones I dropped. It was just a misunderstanding.” Luke scoffed. “A misunderstanding? Alright, you said your tickets are in your bag. Take them out right now and show everyone, prove your innocence.” All eyes in the office locked onto Harper. 7 Harper began pretending to rummage through her bag, furrowing her perfectly manicured brows. “Looks like I left them at home. It’s just a concert. If I want to go, it’s just a matter of making one phone call.” Seeing the lingering doubt in everyone’s eyes, Harper smiled softly. “Whoever wants to go, just let me know. I’ll take you all backstage when the time comes.” Britney was the first to hug her and squeal. “AHHHH! I want to go! I knew I couldn’t be wrong! It’s Princess Harper’s own brother’s concert, she doesn’t even need tickets to get in!” Several other coworkers who desperately wanted to go instantly switched back to smiling faces, begging to be taken along. Harper agreed to all of them. No one questioned her anymore; the room erupted in cheers. People are basically like this—in the face of benefits and perks, right and wrong become irrelevant. Harper looked at me, her eyes full of provocation. “Like I said, it was a misunderstanding. For something like this, I have absolutely no reason to lie. You, on the other hand, Chloe… are you doing this on purpose because you think Derek broke up with you for me? Let me clarify, Derek and I are nothing but friends. But honestly, we’re all adults here. Your jealousy is so petty. No wonder Derek doesn’t like you anymore.” Derek’s furious voice suddenly rang out from behind me. “Chloe, are you psycho?! What does our breakup have to do with Harper? What right do you have to target her?!” I didn’t even know when Derek had arrived. He was holding a massive bouquet of fresh red roses. My eyes stung for a brief second. I said coldly, “Who is ‘our’? Remember, you are you, and I am me. Stop flattering yourself.” I didn’t forget to snatch my tickets back from Harper’s tight grip. I chuckled. “Alright, since you’re so capable, I’ll see you at the concert.” Last time, her loyal “grandson” bought her that limited-edition dress. I couldn’t wait to see which of her loyal “grandsons” was going to miraculously conjure up sold-out VIP concert tickets for her this time. Derek’s sudden appearance in our department was to celebrate Harper getting her own private office. He had come specifically to gift her the flowers. Luke looked at Derek, realizing something belatedly. He asked me, “Is this that—” Although I had broken up with Derek before getting the chance to introduce him to my family, I had shown them a photo of him when he first started pursuing me. I said briefly, “We broke up. He’s currently busy licking the boots of the ‘CEO’s daughter’ in there.” Luke’s mouth twitched. “He has zero taste.” I had already moved on and shrugged indifferently. “Everyone meets a few scumbags when they’re young.” Luke wanted to punch him. I held him back. The person this scumbag wanted to suck up to was the CEO’s daughter. Harper was a fake. It wouldn’t be long before her true colors were exposed. When that time came, the scumbag would realize that being a gold-digging bootlicker leaves you with absolutely nothing. There was no need for my brother to dirty his hands. 8 The concert started at 8 PM. Luke and I planned to head straight there after clocking out. My eldest brother, Liam, had called. He organized a fleet of cars to escort me to the concert. Liam loved cars. He managed auto-investments and was a race car driver himself. His private garage in the city alone held over a hundred luxury vehicles. The convoy he arranged to escort me consisted of eight cars and ten bodyguards. The bodyguards were handpicked by my parents from a top-tier private security firm. Because it was my first time attending Leo’s concert, they were worried about the massive crowds and didn’t trust Leo or Luke to protect me properly. That evening, waiting at the elevators, Luke and I bumped into Harper, Britney, Derek, and their entourage. Britney, acting like a human megaphone, intentionally raised her voice to show off. “Listen up, guys! Princess Harper’s dad sent a luxury convoy to pick us up! They’re all top-tier luxury cars worth millions! Unlike some people who maxed out their credit cards just to buy a ticket to show off, and will spend the next few months paying off loans. Forget a taxi, they’ll probably have to borrow money just to ride the smelly bus! Hahaha!” She stared straight at me, sneering. “Some people need to learn that getting good grades in school is useless. First of all, you need self-awareness. You need to recognize your status and fix your attitude. Otherwise, you deserve to eat dirt and be poor for the rest of your life.” I chuckled. “You definitely have self-awareness. You’ve positioned your status perfectly—especially how flawlessly you play the role of a groveling lapdog.” Luke gave me a thumbs up. We walked over to take a different elevator. Behind us, a slow-to-react Britney shrieked, “Who are you calling a lapdog?!” Derek, who previously complained to me that Britney was like a rabid dog that bit everyone, was now actually comforting her. “Britney, don’t stoop to Chloe’s level. She’s jealous of Harper. She’s so insanely jealous she’s acting like a porcupine, trying to stab anyone she sees.” Harper’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “People like porcupines are so scary. I’m so glad you broke up with her, Derek.” Heh. I was the one who was glad! 9 Luke and I reached the ground floor. Harper’s group had arrived just before us. Led by Harper, the group of coworkers was crowded around a line of eight top-tier luxury cars, screaming in excitement. The fleet was led by a Rolls-Royce Phantom, followed by Bentleys, Ferraris, Maybachs, and Lamborghinis. It was basically a high-end auto show. Harper, Britney, and Derek were worshippers of vanity; of course they recognized the cars. No wonder they were going crazy. Harper’s eyes were practically glowing, but she tried hard to maintain a reserved, elegant posture. “These are just the everyday cars my family uses. Sit wherever you want, guys. Get in.” Derek was flushed with excitement. Using a tone reserved for worshipping deities, he asked Harper carefully, “Harper, can I ride in the same car as you? I want to stay by your side every second, to watch over you and protect you.” “Mhm, okay. Thank you, Derek. You’re so sweet.” Harper and Derek walked toward the extended Rolls-Royce at the front. Derek played the gentleman, reaching out to open the door for her. Before his hand even touched the handle, the driver and the bodyguard in the passenger seat stepped out simultaneously and blocked him. “Who are you?” Derek awkwardly pulled his hand back, revealing Harper behind him. Harper swayed her hips, stepped forward, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and commanded arrogantly, “My brother sent you, right? I’m Harper Sterling. Open the door for me. Oh, and these are my coworkers going to the concert with me. Tell the drivers in the back to open their doors too. My coworkers need to get in.” The driver and the bodyguard exchanged glances, completely baffled. The drivers and bodyguards from the seven cars behind them also stepped out. Soon, their Captain spotted me and immediately marched over with large strides, preparing to respectfully greet me. Luke and I simultaneously raised a hand to stop him. We wanted to watch the show. Harper was already throwing a tantrum. “Hey! I told you to open the doors, are you deaf?! Where are you going?! I didn’t say those two could ride in my cars!” The drivers and bodyguards were all bewildered. I nudged Luke, signaling it was his turn to take the stage. Luke caught on, strolled over, looked down at Harper, and spoke with supreme arrogance. “These cars—” Harper cut him off immediately. “What? You want to hitch a ride too? Sorry, step aside. There are no seats for you in my cars!” Luke let out a cold laugh. “Get the fuck out of here with your fake flexing. You’re the one who needs to step aside. Every single one of these cars belongs to my family.” Harper turned to look at him, sneering. “You? Hah! An intern? You think you’re worthy?” She turned back to yell at the driver. “Hurry up and open the door, didn’t you hear me?! If my brother finds out you disrespected me like this, you’ll all be fired!” No one paid her any attention. “Harper Sterling, right? Open your blind eyes and look closely.” Luke raised a hand in a signal. Instantly, the driver pulled open the rear door of the Rolls-Royce and bowed respectfully. “Young Master Luke, please get in.” Harper: “…” Britney, Derek, and the crowd of coworkers: “???” Luke: “See clearly now? If you see clearly, then get the hell out of my way!” Harper was in disbelief. She didn’t even care about the humiliation. She grabbed her phone and ran to a secluded corner to make a call. I followed her quietly and turned on my phone’s voice recorder. I heard her call the person on the other end “Kevin” and ask about the cars. I couldn’t hear what the other person said. Harper’s voice suddenly grew loud. “You didn’t send cars?! What am I supposed to do if you don’t send cars?! I already promised my coworkers!” “You can’t get a Rolls-Royce? Then rent me a few Bentleys, Maybachs, or sports cars! Hurry up, okay?! If you don’t, I’m going to be completely humiliated, Kevin!” “No sports cars either?! Then… then a Mercedes or a BMW! …Still no?! Then what am I supposed to do?! Kevin, you HAVE to get them here. If you don’t, and I lose face, I can’t guarantee I won’t leak all your dirty secrets onto the company portal!” After Harper’s desperate threats, the voice on the other end of the phone suddenly boomed so loudly I could hear it. “You little bitch, you dare threaten me?! Do you have any idea how much money and how many favors it cost me to get you those tickets from the Second Young Master’s team?! I paid a hundred times the premium just to secure one ticket, and now you want me to get you ten luxury cars?! Luxury my ass! You want to ruin me?! Fine! Go ahead and post it! If I get ruined at the company, you’re going down with me, you stupid bitch!” The man hung up. Harper was trembling with rage. I sent the recording to my dad’s assistant for investigation…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “414040”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After graduation, the senior I had a crush on got married. However, I heard he wasn’t very happy. His wife cheated on him with a toy boy, and they are currently discussing divorce. I was hesitating whether to take the initiative to comfort him, but I never expected him to come find me first. “Sign the divorce agreement. I get custody of the child.” I was stunned. The person he married… couldn’t possibly be me, right? 01 Three years after graduation, while dining at a restaurant with a friend, I unexpectedly ran into Caleb. He hadn’t changed at all, still as handsome as ever. Caleb stood at the restroom entrance, and beside him stood a little munchkin who looked exactly like him. It seemed the two were waiting for someone. He was already married? I had liked him for seven years, and now, running into him again, he was already a father. Suppressing the sourness in my heart, I took the initiative to greet him: “Senior, what a coincidence. Is this your little one? So cute.” Saying that, I crouched down: “Sweetie, call me Auntie.” The next second, Caleb bent down and picked up the little munchkin, his voice as if dipped in ice. “Miss Smith, you really are good at switching roles. One second you’re asking for a divorce, and the next you don’t even recognize your own son.” I stared at the little munchkin lying on Caleb’s chest, blinking his big eyes at me, completely stunned. What did he mean by that? What did this little munchkin… have to do with me? At this moment, I realized the environment around me seemed a little different. I didn’t come to a Mexican restaurant, it had now become… a Thai restaurant. Also, where did the friend I was eating with go?! My eyes gradually filled with horror as I grabbed Caleb’s arm. “Senior, your name is Caleb Wright, right? Graduated from Johns Hopkins Medical School in 2019, correct?” Caleb looked at me as if looking at a psychopath, completely ignored me, and turned to walk away with the little munchkin in his arms. The little munchkin was quite cooperative, waving at me and saying in a milky voice: “Bye-bye, Mommy.” 02 It sounds absurd. I went to the restroom after a meal, and somehow accomplished the two major life events of marriage and having a child. If I wasn’t crazy, then it was highly likely Caleb was. “Senior, wait a moment.” I grabbed Caleb. His gaze swept over the hand holding him, freezing cold. I was so scared I quickly let go. “Senior, although I don’t know where the problem lies, I truly don’t know anything right now, I…” “Are you trying to say you have amnesia?” Amnesia? That wasn’t impossible. I nodded vigorously. Caleb’s smile turned cold. He handed me the manila envelope in his hand: “Inside is the divorce agreement. Go back and review the terms. If you have no objections, sign it.” I opened my mouth but was completely unable to find the words to reply. Finally, I could only squeeze out: “It’s not good to talk about this in front of the child. How about we talk later?” “When you brought a man home, why didn’t you think it was bad in front of the child?” This sentence exploded in my head like a thunderbolt. I looked at the little bean in disbelief, attempting to find the correct answer from a child. Unfortunately, the little munchkin completely ignored me, resting on Caleb’s shoulder, looking pitiful. The amount of information was too much. I crashed. 03 It took me about a whole day to figure out my current situation. I seemed to have accidentally entered a parallel universe. Here, I was still me. Caleb was still Caleb. The only difference was, we were married. And had a baby. But obviously, there was a problem with our current marriage. I seemed to have… cheated. But where the “me” of this universe went, whether we accidentally swapped places in the restroom, I had absolutely no way of knowing. “Mommy.” A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. The door opened a sliver, and a small head peeked in: “Daddy says he needs to use the study.” I reached out and called the little munchkin in. The boy hesitated outside the door for a moment before shyly running in. I held him on my lap and observed him carefully. His eyes and brows resembled Caleb’s, but his face shape was like mine. This was my and Caleb’s son. Unable to control the satisfaction in my heart, I kissed the little munchkin’s cheek hard. As a result, this kid’s face flushed red instantly. He flailed a couple of times in my arms, then quieted down, whispering: “Mommy smells nice.” What kind of angelic baby was this? I was holding the little munchkin and was just about to say something when the door was pushed open from the outside again. A tall figure immediately filled the entire door frame. “Daddy!” The little munchkin immediately broke free from me, ran to Caleb, and hugged his thigh. Caleb had already taken a shower. His hair was still damp, water droplets trailing down his neck into his collar, then disappearing. The person I liked was right in front of me. My heart beat wildly. However, Caleb’s next words shattered my fantasy. “Miss Smith, don’t you think it’s a bit late to relive maternal affection now?” “I wasn’t, I…” Now it seemed whatever I said would be wrong. Finally, I simply gave up. “Never mind, you work first. I’m going to take a shower.” When I walked out the door, the little munchkin glanced at me, but he still clung to Caleb. I felt slightly disappointed. It seemed that besides my husband not loving me, my son didn’t love me either. I couldn’t help but wonder, why did we get married in the first place, and why did we have a child? The moon outside still hung high in the sky, the cicadas deep in the branches screamed themselves hoarse. Everything seemed unchanged. Yet everything had changed. 04 The master bedroom only had one large bed. The monotonous gray bedsheets were so smooth there wasn’t a single wrinkle. The clothes in the walk-in closet were sorted sequentially from dark to light. The entire room had the word “boring” written all over it. Except, I rummaged through all the cabinets and surprisingly didn’t find any of my clothes. Forced by circumstance, I knocked on the study door. “Seni… Husband, sorry to bother you for a second.” Caleb looked up. The gold-rimmed glasses on his face hadn’t been taken off yet, giving him an air of ascetic refinement. “Could you tell me where my pajamas are? The walk-in closet seems to only have your clothes.” Caleb stared at me for a few seconds. Just when I thought he wouldn’t tell me, he suddenly got up and walked towards me. Stopping at a distance less than a fist away from me, the corners of his mouth lifted: “Amnesia, huh?” For a moment, I honestly didn’t know which was more convincing: amnesia or a parallel universe. Fortunately, Caleb didn’t press the issue, turned, and went out the door. I stood frozen in place, at a loss for what to do. He glanced at me: “Not coming?” Was he leading the way? “Th-thanks.” However, a minute later, when I opened the closet door, I immediately slammed it shut. My face flushed bright red. “These are mine…” Caleb crossed his arms, leaning against the bedroom door looking at me, a hint of a mocking smile on his lips. An expression of “keep acting.” I swallowed my question, opened the closet door again. The sheer scale of the clothes inside made me think I had entered the dressing room for an adult film. I mean, in this universe, was I really… that OPEN?! I tried my best to ignore Caleb’s gaze. I dug around for a long time but couldn’t pick out a single decent piece of clothing. Finally, not knowing what I was thinking, I turned my head and asked the man watching the show: “Husband, which one… do you like?” Then, I distinctly felt Caleb’s eyes darken. He didn’t answer me, turned his head, and walked out. The door was slammed shut with a bang. Did that make him angry? I couldn’t help but guess, could the reason we were getting a divorce be because of an unharmonious sex life? After taking a shower, I went to the little munchkin’s room. He was already asleep, clutching a small doll in his arms. I took out the hand he had in his mouth and tucked the little guy in. For the first time, I felt the realness of being a mother. It was embarrassing to say, but up until now, I didn’t even know what this child’s name was or how old he was. I had looked at my marriage certificate with Caleb; the date was three years ago. So the little munchkin should be about two years old. After staying for a while, I gently closed the door and had just walked out when I unsuspectingly bumped into a man’s chest. I was so startled I almost screamed. Looking up, it was actually Caleb. I still couldn’t adapt well to the fact that I was married to my crush. After all, the person I had always looked up to was now standing right in front of me, within arm’s reach. My heart was beating unreasonably fast. “Done?” “Yeah.” I didn’t know what to say: “Then… sleep?” Caleb didn’t move. I wrapped the coat I had draped over myself tighter, trying to keep the excessively revealing sleepwear inside from showing: “I’ll go in first.” Saying that, I walked into the master bedroom. Not knowing which side Caleb usually slept on, I casually lay down, pulled the covers over myself, and lay there properly. A moment later, Caleb walked in. Seeing me, his footsteps paused, and he stared straight at me. I felt numb from being stared at. “Which side are you used to sleeping on?” He stopped talking again. Why did I feel that in this space, apart from the huge change in “my” personality, the senior’s personality had also changed significantly? I simply sat up: “Then you pick first, okay?” Why so petty? This time Caleb moved. He lay down on the other side. I breathed a sigh of relief and lay back down too. The night was quiet. The curtains in the room blocked the light well, plunging the entire room into pitch darkness where you couldn’t see your fingers. My mind was a mess, and I couldn’t sleep at all. I was already agitated, and the coat digging into my back made it hurt. Feeling the breathing beside me gradually even out, I quietly lifted my body and began to take off the clothes. I successfully took off the coat, dropped it on the floor, and was still rejoicing that the person next to me hadn’t been woken up when suddenly, my entire body was pinned down. The sleeping person had woken up at some point, leaning over to look at me. The tip of my nose could even feel his breath. “Senior, you’re not asleep?” I was so scared I forgot to call him “Husband.” “What exactly do you want to do?” “Huh?” “You proposed the marriage, you proposed the divorce, and now you’re seducing me in the dark. What else do you want to do? Just say it.” “Se… seducing?” My eyes widened. I suddenly felt a breeze on my chest. I had forgotten how “revealing” the clothes I was wearing were. Thank goodness the darkness hid my blushing face. “I didn’t want to, sor… sorry.” Saying that, my hands frantically reached down, trying to retrieve the clothes. The more anxious I got, the clumsier I was, and I accidentally pushed the clothes further away. I was terrified Caleb would hate me. My voice was already choked with tears. Finally, Caleb was the first to pull away from me. He sat straight up, his voice freezing cold. “Stella, I don’t care what tricks you’re playing, I’m not falling for them anymore. I hope you return to normal tomorrow. Don’t play the amnesia card again, it’s boring.” “Tonight I’m going to Miles’s room. Do as you please.” Caleb left. I realized belatedly. So my son’s name was Miles. 05 Sleepless all night. I stared blankly until dawn. Around seven o’clock, I heard washing sounds outside, and the sound of Caleb talking with someone. She must be the nanny hired to take care of Miles. After a while, the door opened and closed. Caleb left. I lay on the bed thinking about life. I had always been dull when it came to relationships between men and women, otherwise I wouldn’t have liked Caleb for so many years without daring to confess. I always fantasized about becoming Caleb’s wife, thinking I would definitely treat him very, very well. But facts proved that low EQ is low EQ. Even though I possessed this marriage, it was still a complete mess. As my thoughts ran wild, the bedroom door was suddenly opened. A chubby auntie appeared at the door, hastily apologizing: “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to be inside.” “It’s okay, I was about to get up anyway.” The auntie breathed a sigh of relief and walked in: “I thought you were resting in your own room. When Mr. Wright left just now, he didn’t mention you were resting in his room.” My own room? I suddenly remembered the guest bedroom Caleb took me to yesterday to find clothes. It seemed there was indeed a bed inside. Could it be that all along we were… sleeping in separate rooms?! No wonder he insisted I was seducing him yesterday. I covered my face and wailed twice. Miles must have heard my voice, as he ran over barefoot with a “pitter-patter,” standing timidly at the door, not daring to come in. “Miles.” I called out tentatively, then beckoned him with my hand. The little guy seemed to receive some kind of permission, charging in like a little firecracker, instantly rolling onto my bed, revealing three teeth: “Mommy!” Two dark eyes like black grapes were shining brightly. My heart melted looking at him. Regardless of my relationship with Caleb, I wanted to treat Miles as well as possible. I greeted the nanny and took him to the mall. On one hand, I planned to buy him some toys, and on the other, I wanted to buy myself a couple of pieces of clothing. The “my” fashion taste in this universe was so trendy I really couldn’t handle it. Along the way, I subtly asked Miles what his mommy was like before. The little kid thought for a long time before shaking his head and saying: “She ignored Miles.” Then he added softly: “Fierce.” Kids don’t lie. If it was really like this, then the difference between the me of the two universes was too big. Not only in fashion taste, but also in every other aspect. I couldn’t help but wonder, why did Caleb marry me? Did he just like me this way? His tastes were quite hardcore! “Mommy, I want to eat that.” Suddenly, the little guy next to me tugged at my hem. I looked over and sure enough, it was McDonald’s, which every kid can’t resist. Miles looked at me, his eyes radiating a Shin-chan-like gleam. I: “…Buy!” However, half an hour later, Miles and I were sitting with our heads bowed in front of Caleb’s office, like two egregious sinners. And the “culprit” was the unopened box of Chicken McNuggets and fries in the bag. 06 The origin was that after I bought the McDonald’s for Miles, the kid wanted to share it with his dad. The hospital Caleb worked at was nearby. I figured this could be an opportunity to repair our marital relationship, so I took the little guy to the clinic. I never expected that when this man saw the things in my hand, his brows would furrow so tightly they could wrap around the earth. He opened his mouth and asked: “Why would you buy Miles this kind of junk food?” I was dumbfounded and quickly tried to cover up: “I bought it for myself, not for Miles.” “So you think there’s no problem if you eat it yourself?” Caleb’s brows furrowed so tightly they could knit a sweater on the spot. “Fried food causes the body’s pH value to drop rapidly, creating an acidic constitution. A normal person’s body fluid pH is between 7.35 and 7.45, but if it drops to 6.8, cancer cells will spread rapidly.” I didn’t understand: “So?” “The risk of cancer will increase.” My brain did a 180-degree turn before realizing he seemed to be caring about me. That was quite subtle. Miles was unhappy, clenching his little fists: “I wanted to buy it for Mommy! Daddy, meanie!” After he said that, Caleb laughed. A barely visible dimple rippled at the corner of his mouth. This was the first time I saw Caleb smile since I accidentally entered this universe. He flicked Miles’s forehead: “A meal of McDonald’s bought you over?” Then he looked at me: “I still have some work for now. You guys go wait for me in the break room inside.” He glanced at the McDonald’s bag again: “You’re only allowed to eat two pieces. Don’t let it happen again.” He didn’t kick me out, was this… a good sign? Breathing a sigh of relief: “Thank you, Senior!” After I finished speaking, Caleb’s expression seemed to daze for a moment before he gave an “Mhm” and lowered his eyes, avoiding my gaze. Just as Miles and I entered the break room, someone knocked on Caleb’s office door. “Do you have time now? I’ve been feeling unwell lately. Could you check my pulse?” Looking out through the crack in the door, the figure was somewhat familiar. It wasn’t until I heard her voice that I confirmed it was Audrey. At the time, Audrey and Caleb could be considered “prominent figures” at our school. Excellent looks, brilliant grades. Not just the medical school, they were the face of our entire university. But in my memory, Audrey was a very strong-willed person, and her relationship with Caleb wasn’t good at all, even having a bit of a tit-for-tat rivalry. Because she couldn’t stand the existence of someone better than her, and Caleb was a bit aloof, I rarely saw them in the same frame. But here, they were friends and worked at the same hospital? Caleb’s voice was clear and cold: “Deficient Qi and blood. Make sure to rest.” “How can I rest? There are so many surgeries lately, and the hospital is short-staffed.” Audrey complained coquettishly, pausing for a moment before saying: “I heard from your mom before that you’re preparing for a divorce? What’s going on between you and that junior… she is a junior, right?” I covered my mouth. Oh my god, why did her whiny tone reek so much of a two-faced manipulator? The seniors from the two universes were too different. Obviously, Caleb also caught the scent of her fakeness: “I didn’t know when you became so gossipy.” “After all, you suddenly announced your marriage before, scaring us all. When I was in school, I didn’t even notice that girl.” Audrey laughed dryly: “But I think it’s better to divorce early. You and her were never on the same path anyway. Your mom said she’s an influencer? How many decent people are in that industry? If not for yourself, consider Miles. Leading by example…” Before she could finish, Caleb’s fountain pen was placed heavily on his notebook: “Audrey, you’ve crossed the line.” Audrey stayed silent for two seconds, then apologized charmingly: “Sorry, I was just feeling it was unfair to you, thinking you deserve better.” “I know what’s good for me. From now on, I don’t want to hear anyone talking about my family in front of me.” “Okay.” Audrey stood up. “I bought some new clothes and pants for Miles. I’ll give them to you after work.” Audrey left, and the entire office grew quiet. Miles was still burying his head, eating hard, his hands and around his mouth covered in grease. Seeing I wasn’t moving, he very generously handed the half-bitten chicken nugget to me: “Mommy, eat.” “Miles, eat it yourself.” I had completely lost my appetite. Piecing together Audrey’s words, I roughly knew I seemed to be an influencer. Associating it with the clothes in the closet, I gasped. Saying I wasn’t on the same path as Caleb, saying my behavior brought bad influence to Miles, could it be that I was an… adult webcam model? Caleb was a traditional young doctor, and his wife was an adult webcam model? No wonder his mother despised me so much, no wonder we were getting a divorce. I started to feel uncertain. If I was really in this profession, then the “cheating” Caleb mentioned didn’t seem impossible. What should I do now? Continue to pretend I don’t know, or… “Stella.” Caleb’s voice disrupted my wild thoughts. I looked up and found Caleb had already taken off his white coat and was wearing casual private clothes. He looked exceptionally handsome. I finally reacted: “You’re off work?” “To be precise, I’ve been off work for 3 minutes and 20 seconds.” Caleb looked at me. “Which means, you spaced out for exactly 3 minutes and 20 seconds.” I blinked. My first reaction was, so the former top student and current social elite also counted the time exactly to get off work. I thought only losers like me did that. For some unknown reason, the distance between Caleb and me suddenly didn’t seem so far. 07 Caleb drove on the way back. Miles had a designated car seat. I hesitated back and forth for a long time, not knowing where it was appropriate for me to sit. If it had been the day before yesterday, I would have unhesitatingly sat in the passenger seat, but now I wasn’t sure. Finally, I sighed and still opened the back door. “Are you planning to treat me like a chauffeur?” Just as I was about to climb in, Caleb’s words floated over leisurely. I silently retracted my leg: “No, I was just… testing if the back door is easy to open.” Caleb glanced at me, evidently speechless at my brainless reply. Miles was exhausted from playing all day and fell asleep. Caleb and I were speechless all the way, and awkwardness spread in the space. After a long time, I finally spoke: “Senior, if I told you that I’m actually not me, but another person, would you believe it?” “You’re not you? Yesterday you said you had amnesia, and today you’re planning to claim you’ve been possessed?” I pursed my lips: “No, I’m saying, do you believe there are… parallel universes in this world?” After I finished, Caleb was silent for two seconds, then smiled: “If you can logically convince me, I’d be willing to cooperate and believe you.” I couldn’t explain it. “Never mind.” My shoulders slumped. After a long while, I spoke again: “Senior, why did you agree to marry me in the first place?” He clearly had better options, why did he agree to marry me? After a long time, so long I thought Caleb wouldn’t answer, he finally spoke: “Does asking this now still have any meaning?” My heart sank. Right, it had no meaning anymore. We were getting a divorce. As soon as we got home, Caleb went to the study, leaving Miles and me outside. I thought he probably wanted to avoid being alone with me. It wasn’t until night, after I washed up, that Caleb finally opened the study door. “Is Miles asleep?” “Mhm.” I held a bath towel, feeling a bit awkward. “You should rest early too. I’m going to sleep first.” Saying that, I walked towards the guest room, but was pulled back by Caleb: “Where are you going?” “The gue… guest room.” Caleb frowned: “We haven’t divorced yet, and Miss Smith already intends to sleep in separate beds from me?” “No, the nanny said we always…” “The nanny said? You don’t remember what it was like before yourself, and you had to ask the nanny?” This sentence completely confused me. I just didn’t know! But from Caleb’s meaning, did I misunderstand? Could it be we used to sleep together? So I silently rolled back to the master bedroom hugging my pillow. This was the second time I shared a bed with Caleb. I was so nervous I felt like I was going to throw up. The sound of running water came from the bathroom. The image of Caleb taking a shower involuntarily surfaced in my mind, and my cheeks gradually grew hot. This was deadly! I got up and planned to slip away. Just then, the bathroom door opened. As if on purpose, this man just tied a bath towel around his waist. He wasn’t wearing anything on top, and his firm abdominal muscles were faintly exposed. I swallowed hard, quickly lay back down, and covered my head with the quilt: “Sleepwalking!” A low chuckle came from outside, the sound making my face burn again. After a while, the mattress on the other side sank slightly. It must be Caleb lying down. “Sleeping with the covers over your head is bad for your health.” The quilt was suddenly lifted by Caleb. Before I could even react, I was already pulled into his arms: “Go to sleep.” My breathing stopped, my limbs went stiff. The distance between Caleb and me was so close I could even feel his heartbeat. “Just… sleep like this?” “Otherwise, what else do you want to do?” My whole body shuddered: “I’m already asleep.” Then I squeezed my eyes shut tight, not daring to move. I hadn’t slept at all the night before. After closing my eyes, I found I actually felt sleepy. There was a calming scent on Caleb. Gradually, my consciousness also began to slowly drift away. Before completely losing consciousness, my last thought was: This sleeping posture doesn’t feel like we’re getting a divorce…

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After my mom got divorced, she married a man, and I gained a younger stepbrother. At school, he told me to stay away from him. When my classmates bullied me, he stood by and watched with cold, indifferent eyes. I always thought he despised me to his very core. Until I got a boyfriend. He knocked on my door in the middle of the night, smiling as he asked: “Sister, are you dating someone?” The very next second, he pinned me against the wall fiercely, grinding his teeth. “Chloe Bennett, isn’t teasing me enough for you?” 1 After my mom got divorced, she took me with her and married an uncle named David Clark. David had a son named Liam, who was a year younger than me. My mom said he had excellent grades and was very well-behaved. The day we moved into their house, he politely called me “Sister” and smiled as he helped us carry our luggage. My mom smiled along with him. The whole scene was a picture of a loving mother and a filial son, warm and harmonious. But the moment our parents left the house, everything changed. When I curiously reached out to touch the trophies in the glass display cabinet, Liam pushed me away. “Don’t touch my things.” His face was cold, a complete 180 from his previous demeanor. From that moment on, I was acutely aware that he didn’t like me. Or rather, he hated me. 2 I transferred to Liam’s high school and ended up in the same grade, though in a different class. Liam smiled and promised our parents he would take good care of me. But the moment we stepped through the school gates, he acted like he didn’t know me, always keeping his distance. He was a popular guy at school; quite a few girls had a secret crush on him. In their eyes, he was handsome, smart, outgoing, and gentle. But only I knew what kind of person he truly was. One day after school, I forgot my keys. Liam had a club activity, so I went to the club room to find him, only to bump into a younger girl confessing her feelings to him. Amidst the teasing cheers of the crowd, he smiled and gently turned her down. He even thoughtfully reached out and gently wiped away her tears. Then, he saw me. With that lingering smile still on his face, he slowly walked towards me. I instinctively took a step back. In a corner where the crowd couldn’t see, he finally dropped the mask, his tone freezing cold. “What do you want?” “I forgot my keys.” He pulled something from his pocket, and I reached out to catch it. Before I could grasp it, he let go. With a clack, the keys hit the floor. But he completely ignored it, turned around, and walked back into the classroom. As I bent down, I heard someone ask him about me. “Was that another girl confessing to you?” “Did you say yes?” He just smiled. “She’s not my type.” That night, Liam knocked on my door in the middle of the night for the first time. The teenage boy stood outside the door. Under the moonlight, his handsome face was as cold as frost. When he spoke, his voice was even colder. “From now on, stay away from me.” That’s what he said. 3 After remarrying, my mom was very happy. So when David asked me if Liam was bullying me, I smiled and shook my head. In that moment, I saw a flash of contempt in Liam’s eyes. I held it in. As long as my mom was happy, it didn’t matter what happened to me. But ever since I was mistaken for a girl confessing her love to Liam, my situation at school became increasingly difficult. I never expected that girls could harbor such immense malice towards a perceived romantic rival. Things that didn’t belong to me would frequently appear in my desk cubby. The rumors of me being a “thief” grew louder and louder. From beginning to end, Liam just stood by and watched coldly. I even suspected he was secretly fanning the flames behind the scenes. But I still endured it. Until one day, my textbook was covered in the word “Slut.” After school, I was erasing the marks page by page. I didn’t know when, but Liam was suddenly standing next to me. The empty classroom only held the last, fading colors of the sunset. “It suits you.” His tone was indescribably mocking. “Just like your mom.” A sharp smack shattered the tranquility of the twilight. The boy’s cheek quickly turned red. I kept my hand raised, glaring fiercely at Liam. “I put up with you for my mom’s sake, Liam. Don’t push it!” The disbelief in his eyes quickly faded. As if he had encountered something highly amusing, the corners of his mouth pulled into a sinister smirk, and he slowly leaned in. I instinctively retreated but couldn’t avoid him. He stopped right next to my ear, enunciating every word slowly, like a demon whispering: “You’re dead meat.” 4 I quickly understood what Liam meant by those words. At school, he completely changed his tune and started acting very close to me. Walking into the classroom with me, standing outside the door waiting for me after school. I couldn’t shake him off. What followed was an even fiercer wave of retaliation from the other girls. My textbooks were glued shut; my chair was covered in ink. After the bell rang for class, I was the only one standing there blankly. No one helped me. Liam walked past me, a smile on his face, and asked in a gentle tone: “Are you happy now?” I glared at him fiercely. They all thought I would continue to endure it. Until I caught the girl. It was the very same freshman who had confessed her feelings to Liam that day. A student from another class had run into my classroom to mess with me, and not a single person tried to stop her. Holding a marker, she had her head down, scribbling all over my desk. I grabbed her by the collar and dragged her out. Screams pierced my eardrums. She struggled desperately, but I only pulled harder. I pinned her against the railing. On the fifth floor, half her body was dangling over the edge. The cold wind howled. Her face was covered in tears: “I’m sorry, I won’t ever do it again. I was wrong, please let me go, I’m afraid of heights…” Her screams drew the attention of the entire floor, people crowding around to watch the spectacle. I still didn’t let go. Finally, the Dean of Students arrived with a few teachers and pulled me away. As I left, I saw Liam in the crowd. He was frowning, his expression unreadable to me. As I brushed past him, I lowered my head and smiled. A smile full of disdain. 5 After that incident, I earned the nickname “Psycho.” No one dared to mess with me again. Liam’s attitude towards me also underwent a subtle change. During AP Calculus, the teacher assigned us to group discussions. Because of the “Psycho” incident, no one wanted to team up with me. Everyone grouped up in threes and fives, leaving me alone, head down, reading my book. “Can I be in your group?” A gentle voice spoke up. I looked up and saw the class president, Noah Miller. I didn’t know why he would pay attention to me, but I nodded anyway. After school, Noah very naturally asked, “Want to walk home together?” I didn’t refuse. “Sure.” But as we reached the school gates, someone called out to me. It was actually Liam. I frowned as I watched him slowly approach. He stopped in front of me, leaning down with an incredibly familiar air, and asked, “Aren’t you waiting for me?” Noah looked at us in surprise. Liam, as if just noticing his presence, smiled. “We live in the same…” “We’re neighbors,” I interrupted him. “Really?” Noah scratched his head. “Then I’ll let you guys head back together. I’ll get going.” After he left, Liam suddenly let out a cold laugh. “Neighbors?” I ignored him, turned around, and walked away. From then on, Liam became increasingly bizarre. At school, whenever Noah came to talk to me, Liam would inevitably appear within a few minutes. This feeling of being constantly shadowed was even more nauseating than the bullying I experienced before. To shake him off, I tried to get closer to Noah. In the process, I gradually became friends with him. He was kind and gentle, always considering others first. He was an existence that Liam, a demon with a dark heart, could never hope to reach. Sunday was Noah’s birthday, and he invited me to his party. Coincidentally, both my parents and Liam were out. I dressed up a bit and was just about to leave when the front door opened. Liam was back. Under the cool, white light of the living room, he looked at me, pausing for a moment. “Where are you going?” My face was cold. “None of your business.” As I brushed past him, Liam suddenly clamped down on my wrist. “Let go.” I frowned. “I asked you, where are you going?” “None of your…” He slammed me against the wall. My back hit the light switch, and with a click, the lights went out, plunging the living room into total darkness. In the dark, I raised my other hand to strike him, but he caught that wrist too, pinning me so I couldn’t move. “Still trying to hit me?” He chuckled, lowering his voice, his hot breath brushing against the side of my ear. “But Sister, you can’t beat me.” Even though I couldn’t see, I could picture the smug, delighted look on his face right now. “Is that right?” I smiled. Then I stood on my tiptoes and bit down hard on his jaw. 6 Liam hissed in pain and shoved me away hard. I tasted blood. When the lights flicked back on, the tips of his ears were bright red. A flash of humiliated anger crossed his eyes, but it was quickly concealed. He wiped the blood from his jaw with his palm, smearing it. He smirked, his lips curved into a cold, mocking smile: “Why didn’t you bite here?” He pointed to his lips. I ignored him, turned around, and walked out the door. This time, Liam didn’t stop me, but he followed closely behind. The streets in early winter were bleak and silent. Under the dim yellow streetlights, he was like my shadow, following at a moderate distance, impossible to shake off. Turning a corner, I took off running. The cold wind whistled past my ears. This time, he didn’t chase after me. The party was at a karaoke bar. Standing outside the private room, I took off my heavy coat, revealing a light-colored lace dress. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and walked in. Noah probably hadn’t told anyone I was coming. The moment I appeared, everyone simultaneously stopped what they were doing. Even the classmate who was singing froze, holding the microphone dumbly. In the dim room, only the backing track played a lonely tune. Noah was the first to break the stiffness. “Chloe.” He smiled and walked towards me, his eyes bright. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.” I pursed my lips and nodded. “Don’t just stand there.” He pulled me to sit down, then looked up at the classmate singing. “Hey, keep going.” “Oh.” As the singing resumed, the room returned to its previous noisy state. There were many empty beer bottles on the table; they must have been drinking quite a bit before I arrived. The smell of alcohol in the air, mixed with the fresh scent of the boy beside me, created a strange reaction, making my cheeks feel a bit flushed. “Happy birthday,” I whispered. “Thank you.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling. I pulled a small box out of my pocket. “A gift.” He looked slightly surprised. “Can I open it?” I nodded. It was a small figurine of a Maneki-neko (Lucky Cat) with its eyes squinched in a smile. The first time I saw it, I thought it looked just like Noah. “Thank you, I really love it,” he said with a smile. Occasionally, someone would cast an inquiring glance my way, but Noah always blocked them. This was the first time since I transferred that I felt like I was blending into the crowd. Like I had never been isolated or ostracized. After two songs, a few girls walked over, giggling. “President, another classmate is here. Let’s go greet them.” Noah nodded in agreement. I suddenly had a bad feeling. When Liam’s face appeared at the door, my breathing nearly stopped. He had a band-aid on his jaw. The moment he walked in, he was surrounded by the girls. With a face full of smiles, he gently said something that made them giggle endlessly. Then, he slowly walked over and stopped in front of me. “Is this seat taken?” He pointed to the empty space next to me. “No,” someone answered for me. Liam sat down very naturally. I straightened my back, trying my best to distance myself from him in the cramped space. Noah didn’t seem to notice the tension between us. Instead, he asked innocently, “Oh right, you guys are neighbors. Why didn’t you come together?” My face was cold. “We’re not close.” My wrist, resting by my side, was suddenly gripped tight. With a vicious force. It hurt. “Oh, I see.” Noah looked relieved. “I thought you guys were childhood sweethearts or something.” “We’re not,” I said expressionlessly. That hand squeezed even harder. Just then, someone called out to Noah, and he got up to attend to them. Liam leaned in closer. “Sister.” The lights were dim, the music loud. No one seemed to be paying attention to this corner. He looked at me, his eyes revealing the maliciousness he usually hid so well. “You look really pretty today…” It was a compliment, yet delivered with absolute coldness. “Let go.” I held back my anger. He acted as if nothing happened, but squeezed my wrist even tighter. “Liam.” A girl with long, wavy hair leaned over. It was Mia Thompson, the most popular girl in our grade. He seamlessly released my hand. “Have a drink with me?” Mia smiled seductively, her curvy figure pressing against his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes. “Sure.” Amidst the cheering, the two of them downed several drinks. “What happened to your jaw?” Mia asked. “Got bitten.” “Do you need a rabies shot?” “Nah, I don’t think so.” His gaze vaguely swept over me. “She’s not that crazy yet.” The strong smell of alcohol mixed with her sickeningly sweet perfume made me intensely nauseous. I got up and left the room. It wasn’t until the cold wind hit my face that I snapped back to reality. I hadn’t put my coat on. But I didn’t want to go back in. I stood by the street downstairs for a few minutes until I heard footsteps behind me. Noah jogged over. “Chloe, it’s freezing out here. You forgot your coat.” He held up my coat, hesitated for a moment, and blushing, draped it over my shoulders. I smelled a faint, pleasant scent of fresh grass. After putting the coat on me, he didn’t leave. He stood there, pausing for a moment. “Chloe.” He took a deep breath. “Actually, since your very first day here, I noticed you, but back then…” “President.” A lazy voice interrupted him. I didn’t know when, but Liam had also come downstairs. He stood in the doorway, backlit, his expression obscured. “Someone’s looking for you.” The sudden interruption made Noah incredibly awkward. “Oh, uh, okay.” He nearly tripped over his own feet as he turned to leave. After he left, Liam still stood there. I didn’t want to deal with him. I started walking away. As I brushed past him, he reached out and blocked me. “What do you want?” My voice was icy. He looked at me with a very strange expression, then suddenly said: “He likes you.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. My heart skipped a beat. He continued, “Do you like him too?” “What does it have to do with you?” I violently shoved his arm away. As I pushed the door open, Liam called out to me again: “Sister.” Whenever that sticky, dark, viper-like address appeared, it meant nothing good. Sure enough, he smiled. “Take a guess. Do you think I’ll tell your mom?” He always knew exactly how to provoke me. Just recently, my mom had lectured us at the dinner table about the dangers of high school dating. “You think I’m scared?” He looked down at me, a cryptic smile in his eyes. He raised his hand to touch his jaw, then suddenly changed the subject. “You broke the skin here.” His tone was weird, almost like he was whining. “You have to take responsibility.” I shoved past him hard. “You’re sick.” As I turned to leave, I heard him chuckle softly behind me. When I got home that night, our parents were already back. Liam put on his mask, performing his role in the perfect, happy family. But in a corner where they couldn’t see, he whispered to me, “What’s so great about him?” I froze for a second before realizing he was asking about Noah. I stubbornly raised my chin and retorted out of spite, “He’s ten thousand times better than you.” Under the cool, white light, he narrowed his eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched into a half-smile, his face full of emotions I couldn’t read. “Is that so?” His eyes looked as if they saw right through me. “But Sister, we are the same kind of people. “Aren’t we?” 7 I always thought I hid it so well. Even my mom didn’t know; how could anyone else tell? But with one sentence, Liam dragged me back into a past I never wanted to remember. I was no stranger to the kind of bullying I experienced here. Except back then, I was the indifferent bystander. I even helped fan the flames. Before I transferred, there was a guy named Mason who liked me. He was a notorious bully at my old school; he loved solving everything with his fists. Back then, a boy in my class kept ostracizing me, so I told Mason. From that day on, that boy never had a day of peace. At first, I felt the thrill of revenge. But it wasn’t until he came to me, his face bruised and battered, eyes red, and asked if I would only let him go when he was dead, that I suddenly snapped awake. But before I could stop Mason, that boy transferred away. After moving here, every time I was bullied, the emotion I felt more than anger was actually remorse. I thought this was my karma. If I just kept enduring it, maybe God would finally let me off the hook. As long as I didn’t say anything, no one would know about my past. But somehow, Liam had sniffed out the scent of our shared nature. That early winter night, when he looked down at me, smiling and saying we were the same kind of people, I didn’t deny it. My nightmare, I figured, was about to start all over again. 8 But Liam didn’t do anything. Just like before, we went to school and came home together, acting as if we had a great relationship. Because we were always together, rumors that we were secretly dating spread like wildfire around the school. I didn’t want to be associated with him. Every day after school, I would use the excuse of group discussions to stay back with Noah a little longer. My mom noticed something was off. “Chloe, why have you been coming home so late recently?” I told the truth. “Discussing schoolwork with a classmate.” She suddenly stopped washing the dishes. “A boy or a girl?” I hesitated for a second. “A girl.” She clearly didn’t believe me. “If you have questions, why don’t you just come home and ask Liam? Your stepdad says he’s always ranked first in the grade.” I just mumbled an “Mhm” and turned to go back to my room. As soon as I turned the corner into the hallway, I found Liam standing behind the wall. He had clearly heard the conversation between me and my mom. “Sister, Mom is right. If you have any questions, you can just ask me.” He looked down at me, eyes full of mischief. I glared at him fiercely and walked straight back to my room. But sometimes, what you fear most is what happens. When the midterm grades came out, my scores had dropped significantly. My mom held my report card. “Look at Liam, first in the grade again. You have such a great tutor right here, why don’t you study with him?” “I want to, but he probably doesn’t want to teach me.” Liam popped out of nowhere. “Why wouldn’t I want to, Sister?” “…” To reassure my mom, I had no choice but to pretend to let Liam tutor me. Once the study room door closed, my face turned cold. “I need to study. Don’t bother me.” He looked innocent. “Didn’t I come here to tutor you?” I looked at him defensively. “Don’t look at me like that.” His long fingers flipped through the pages of a textbook. “If you do poorly on the next test, Mom will be sad, won’t she?” He always knew exactly what leverage to use against me. Being alone in a room with him, I was terrified he would try something. But this time, he didn’t do anything. He just kept his head down, sketching and writing on a piece of scratch paper. From my angle, I could see his thick eyelashes, his straight nose bridge, and the tips of his ears, slightly flushed from the heater. I suddenly understood why he was so popular. God had truly gifted him a superior physical appearance. Even if his soul was rotten, his face was enough to help him disguise himself and deceive the world. “Done staring?” Liam had looked up at some point and was now staring at me with a smiling gaze. He had beautiful eyes; his irises were deep and clear. When he narrowed them slightly, he looked incredibly affectionate, even if he was just looking at a stray dog. Since he had already seen right through me, I couldn’t be bothered to pretend anymore. “You’re rotten on the inside. The more I look, the uglier you get.” He smiled nonchalantly. “So who do you think is beautiful inside and out? Noah?” I didn’t know why he suddenly brought Noah up. “Why mention him?” “No reason.” He dropped the smile and stood up. “I just think he probably can’t tutor you like this.” Although Noah was the class president, his grades had never been stellar. Liam saying that was clearly an intentional jab. “So what if you have good grades? Think you’re a big deal?” “No, but having good grades gets me the chance to be alone with you.” The heater really was running high; I suddenly felt very hot. “Also,” he suddenly leaned in, stopping when our noses were just two inches apart, his eyes crinkling into a smile, “It doesn’t matter if I’m ugly. As long as you’re pretty, that’s enough.” Even knowing exactly how wicked he was, hearing those words still made my heart skip a beat. I shoved him away hard. “Stay away from me.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I froze. Not long ago, the person saying those exact words was him. After a few tutoring sessions, even though I hated Liam, I had to admit he was an excellent teacher. Whatever I didn’t understand, he could explain it with crystal clarity. One night, I was doing homework in the study room and accidentally fell asleep. When I woke up, there was a jacket draped over my shoulders. Liam was sitting nearby, occasionally turning a page in his book. In the quiet study, I maintained my original posture and slowed my breathing. The jacket was full of the familiar scent of clean soap, mixed with the faint, unique scent of the teenage boy. In that moment, I suddenly felt like my hatred for him was a little less. But only a little. 9 After I bailed on our group discussions a few times, Noah came looking for me. “Chloe, have you been really busy lately? You haven’t had time to discuss problems with me.” For a moment, I didn’t know how to answer. “She’s busy discussing them with me.” Liam appeared out of nowhere. “Oh…” Noah scratched his head. “That makes sense. You guys live together, so it’s definitely more convenient.” He didn’t seem to notice the tense atmosphere. He paused, then asked me, “I’m organizing a class camping trip up the mountain this Saturday, to relax after midterms. Do you want to come?” I actually didn’t want to go. Liam glanced at me. “She’s not…” “I’ll go.” Liam paused. “That’s great! We’re meeting at the school gates on Saturday. See you then.” After Noah left, Liam looked at me with a half-smile. “I couldn’t tell you wanted to go.” I wasn’t about to back down. “There’s a lot you can’t tell.” “Is that so?” I turned to leave, only to hear him say behind me, “Then I’m going too.” And just like that, two people who originally had zero interest in participating signed up at the same time. I prepared thoroughly for the camping trip. I had camping experience since I was little, so I wasn’t unfamiliar with it. After meeting at the school gates, we all took a chartered bus to the foot of the mountain. Noah’s plan was to hike up to a clearing near the summit before sunset and set up camp there. Because Liam joined, the originally quiet trip suddenly became lively. All along the way, Mia Thompson surrounded Liam. I kept my head down and walked in front, listening to the sounds of the two of them chatting and laughing behind me. Noah caught up with me. “Chloe, let’s set up our tents together later.” I casually agreed. “Sure.” “Then can we pitch our tents next to each other?” I looked up at him. His face was a little red. Mia’s voice rang out from behind us. “Liam, let’s be neighbors later, okay?” An indescribable emotion surged in my heart. “Sure,” I said, speaking a beat before Liam could answer Mia. I didn’t know what Liam was thinking. I didn’t realize I had lost my bracelet until much later, and he hadn’t said a word either. “I’ll help you look for it,” Noah volunteered. The bracelet was a birthday gift from my mom; I had always worn it. I shook my head. “You still have to lead the group. I’ll go look for it myself. I’ll be back soon.” He hesitated. “Are you going to be okay alone?” “I’ll go with her.” Under Mia’s surprised gaze, Liam walked towards me. Honestly, I didn’t want his help at all. “No…” “Alright then,” Noah agreed on my behalf before I could finish. “It’s good that you two can keep each other company. We’ll wait for you at the summit.” And so, my journey backtracking down the trail gained an unwanted companion. I guessed the bracelet might have dropped where we got off the bus. When getting off, I had heard a sharp clink. I didn’t pay attention to it at the time, but thinking back, it must have been my bracelet. I walked very fast. Liam followed behind me, keeping his distance, not looking at all like he was “keeping me company.” I had camped on this mountain before, so I knew there was a smaller, alternative trail leading down. I purposely turned onto that small path, intending to ditch Liam. He kept following me. I sped up, and after a few sharp turns, I could no longer see him. Just as I was secretly rejoicing, my foot stepped on empty air, and I tumbled down. I rolled several times before coming to a stop. Covered in dirt, I stood up and realized I had fallen into a deep trench or sinkhole. The opening was too high; I couldn’t climb out on my own. When it rains, it pours. I had no choice but to yell for help. “Liam…” No answer. “Liam!” Footsteps sounded above my head, and the next second, that punchable face appeared at the edge of the hole. “Calling me?” “Go get someone to help.” He didn’t move. Instead, he crouched down by the edge. “Beg me.” “Screw you.” Liam chuckled softly, stood up, and actually just walked away, plain as day. As the air fell silent, I suddenly felt a little scared. Just as I was wondering if I might starve to death down here, there was movement above me again. Liam had come back. “Want me to save you?” I glared at him. “Call me ‘Big Brother’.” I froze. What kind of weird fetish is this? “Not going to say it?” He smiled, repeating his old trick. “Then I’m leaving.” But this time as he stood up, either he lost his balance or the ground was too slippery. Following the exact same trajectory I did, he tumbled down and landed right next to me. I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing. Serves you right for showing off! Liam’s face went dark for two seconds. He looked up at me. “Funny?” “Hilarious.” I thought he would be angry, but surprisingly, he lowered his head, paused for two seconds, and also started laughing. “Yeah, it is funny.” We each took up a corner of the hole. After a moment of silence, I asked, “How are we going to get out?” “Wait for someone.” This area was remote; clearly, we wouldn’t be waiting out anyone anytime soon. “Then we might die down here.” Liam suddenly smiled. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” He tilted his head to look at me. “Like a lovers’ suicide.” I knew he was just flirting to be annoying, but under the gaze of those deep, affectionate eyes, I still couldn’t stop myself from flushing with anger. “Who wants a lovers’ suicide with you?!” “Don’t worry, I won’t let you die.” He looked up at the opening. “I’ll protect you.” I frowned. “How many girls have you scammed with that smooth talk?” “Not many.” He smiled. “You’re the first.” I instinctively avoided his gaze. “Come here.” He crouched down. “Step on my shoulders to get up.” I didn’t expect him to offer this solution. Weighing the pros and cons, I did as he said. The teenage boy’s shoulders weren’t particularly broad, but standing on them, I could just barely reach ground level. I probably used too much force; as I scrambled up, Liam was pushed down and fell to the dirt floor. He looked up at me from below. “You’re not going to leave me down here, are you?” I frowned. “I’m not like you.” But he suddenly smiled. “I’ll wait for you.”

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I handed in a blank answer sheet for the SATs, and my dad was so furious he kicked me out of the house. Just like that, a billionaire heiress was reduced to hauling bricks at a construction site, barely able to afford a meal. I latched onto the hottest guy on the site, clinging to his leg just to score free food. I even fed him wild promises, swearing that the moment I returned home, I’d reward him with a literal mountain of gold. He just rested his chin on his hand and smiled at me. “I don’t want any of that. I just want you.” I patted his handsome face. “Hahaha, are you dreaming? A scrub like you trying to land a supermodel?” But the moment an acceptance letter from MIT was delivered to the construction site, it finally hit me. I was the scrub who was completely out of his league. 1 To a lot of people, the SATs are the ultimate stepping stone to changing your destiny. To me, they were just a joke. My family is loaded. Even if I bombed the SATs, my dad could just write a massive check to get me into an Ivy League school or send me to Europe. Feeling rebellious, I bubbled in a smiley face on my scantron and handed in a blank test. I didn’t expect my dad to actually explode and kick me out. “Avery Preston! There is no child of mine who brings shame to this family like you do!” “It’s just a test, Dad. A little money fixes everything… don’t have a heart attack over it.” “You’ve been too comfortable your whole life! If you don’t go out and taste real human suffering, you’ll never learn how to appreciate anything!” And just like that, I was swept out the front door. Is life on the outside really that hard? I went to Whole Foods and tossed a bunch of expensive snacks into my basket, ready for a feast. But when I went to check out, every single credit card declined. They were all frozen. The cashier crossed her arms and glared at me with absolute disdain. “Hurry up. There’s a huge line waiting behind you.” I looked back. Everyone was tapping their feet impatiently. I forced a dry smile and apologized. “I’m so sorry, I don’t need any of this anymore.” It was the first time I had ever felt so humiliated. The second I walked out of the store, I called my dad to confront him. “Arthur! Are you seriously heartless enough to cancel all my cards? What am I supposed to eat?” My dad’s emotionless voice came through the speaker. “You have hands and feet. Figure it out yourself.” He hung up instantly, denying me any chance to argue. Wow. The old man was playing for keeps. Did he really think I couldn’t survive without him? I refused to believe it. A high school grad with no degree and no experience—finding a job was a nightmare. A trendy boba shop on the corner was hiring. I walked into the interview brimming with confidence. Guess what? I was completely out-talked by the other applicants, and I didn’t have the customer service hustle they had. For a moment, I actually regretted not paying attention in my communication classes. It was a total defeat. Then I interviewed at a 24-hour convenience store. I couldn’t compete there either. The other applicants were willing to work 12-hour graveyard shifts. I couldn’t do that. So, I was rejected again. I finally managed to land a job as a waitress at a diner, but they immediately threw me into the dish pit. After one day of washing dishes, I was physically drained. To top it off, a customer complained about a smudge on a plate, and I was fired on the spot. In that moment, I deeply felt the “human suffering” my dad talked about. Making money is actually this hard… But as stubborn as I am, there was no way I was going to admit defeat to the old man now. Even if I had to beg on the streets, I would never go back and beg him! 2 I wandered around for a whole day, exhausted and starving. I drifted toward a commercial construction site and saw an incredibly hot guy sitting by the road, wolfing down a cheap takeout box. His skin was tanned a dark bronze by the sun, and the smooth, powerful lines of his muscles stretched all the way down his arms. But his brow was noble, and his facial features were sharp and striking. He honestly didn’t look like an ordinary laborer. “…Is it really that good?” I crouched by the roadside watching him eat, swallowing hard as my stomach growled. He paused his aggressive eating, looked up at me, and a faint blush actually crept across his tanned cheeks. “Um… do you want some?” I nodded, gulping. I was looking at him like he was my savior. He smiled and stood up. He was wearing baggy cargo pants, and right on the back pocket, there was a tear, giving a peek of his SpongeBob SquarePants boxers. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Wow, that was actually pretty cute. He went to the food truck nearby and bought another lunch box. He turned around to find me laughing so hard I was bending over. “What’s so funny?” “SpongeBob. Your back pocket has a hole in it.” He whipped around, the blush instantly spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. “…It probably got snagged on some rebar when I was hauling bricks earlier.” He hurriedly handed me the food box, then pulled his T-shirt off in one swift motion and tied it around his waist. Is this free show meant for me? I held the lunch box, completely stunned, staring at the hard, sculpted abs on his stomach that V-ed down low. I swallowed hard again. I sat down next to him, throwing away any pretense of being a lady, and started shoveling food into my mouth in huge bites just like him. Even this greasy street food smelled heavenly. “Thanks for the food. I’m Avery Preston. What about you?” “Leo.” I mumbled through my mouthful of rice, stealing a piece of meat from his box while promising him the moon. “Leo? Got it. My dad is loaded. You giving me food today means I will repay you with a literal fountain of wealth later.” He looked me up and down, taking in my filthy, dust-covered clothes, and just smiled. “It’s fine. It’s just a lunch box. You don’t need to repay me.” I looked down at my grease-stained outfit and sighed. Looking the way I did right now, it was normal for him not to believe me. If I were him, I probably would have thought I was a scammer, too. I wiped the box completely clean. Seeing that he was about to leave, I quickly reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt. “Um… can I stick with you? I don’t have anywhere else to go…” He was clearly taken aback. “The place I live is… in really bad condition. You…” “It doesn’t matter! Please! You wouldn’t let a girl sleep on the streets, right?” I think my teary-eyed, pathetic look must have touched him. After thinking for a moment, he actually agreed to let me follow him. Someone this kind and seemingly innocent had to be a good guy. I had to latch onto him tightly. If I relied on myself, I was going to starve. 3 Even though I thought I was mentally prepared, I didn’t expect his living conditions to be this bad. We navigated through sketchy alleyways into a rundown part of town, up a damp, narrow stairwell, and into a tiny studio apartment that barely got any sunlight. The craziest part was, the bathroom didn’t even have a door! But luckily, this tiny space was kept spotlessly clean. The blanket was folded perfectly, and his few belongings were neatly organized. In this tiny place, he had managed to clear a whole wall to make a makeshift bookshelf, packed tightly with books. “You like to read?” He stood awkwardly by the door. “Yeah, I just read whatever when I have free time.” “That’s good. A young man with ambition.” I scanned the room and stood at the bathroom doorway. “So, I’m absolutely filthy. Can I take a shower first?” He reacted instantly, rummaging through a drawer to find an old bedsheet, and rigged it up as a makeshift curtain over the bathroom doorway. The old blue plaid sheet swayed slightly in the draft. Wow. A bathroom where a cold breeze blows right over your butt. This was definitely a new life experience. “Little Leo, do you have any clean clothes I can borrow?” Leo handed me a T-shirt. “This one is new.” “Any new underwear?” As soon as I asked, I wanted to slap myself. Even if they were new, could I just wear his? Sure enough, his face turned red again. “I’ll go to the convenience store downstairs and buy you some.” Then he bought me a pack of massive, high-waisted granny panties. Seriously. What could I do? I just had to make do. “No hot water heater?” I lifted the curtain and poked my head out, nagging so much I wanted to smack myself. Leo put down his book and gave an apologetic smile. “I usually take cold showers. If you need hot water, I’ll boil some for you.” “How long is an electric kettle going to take to boil enough water?” I started missing the massive jacuzzi bathtub at my house. Using a kettle to boil bathwater—this was a first. He brought over a red plastic bucket, pouring one kettle of boiling water after another into it. I stayed in the bathroom, washing my hair and body. That night, he probably boiled thirty or forty kettles of water. He literally blew the circuit breaker. 4 I got dressed in the dark and walked out. Leo had just flipped the breaker back on. The sudden bright light made us both flinch. He froze, his eyes frantically shifting away, and handed me a dry towel. “Dry your hair. Don’t catch a cold.” The tiny studio only had one twin-sized bed. He put clean sheets on it for me, and laid out a cooling mat on the floor for himself. A guy who is gentle and meticulous really hits my weak spot. He was totally different from all the rich playboys I had met before. Even though our social statuses were worlds apart, I felt he carried a light they could never match. In the middle of the night, I was woken up by a rustling sound. An unidentified object was crawling up my arm. I screamed in terror, jumping off the bed and scrambling wildly to dive at Leo. “HELP!!!” Leo was startled badly. He pulled me into his arms to protect me, turned on the light, and discovered a massive, juicy cockroach. It was staring at me imperiously, almost as if it was mocking me. I hid behind Leo in terror, wrapping myself around his back like a koala. “Why is there a cockroach that big! Ahhhh!” Leo calmly used the sole of his shoe to send the roach to the afterlife, grabbed tissues to clean up the crime scene, and then disinfected the spot with alcohol. How practiced he looked was heartbreaking. “The weather is damp, so it’s easy to get bugs. I’ll buy a mosquito net for you tomorrow, so they won’t crawl on you.” I was trembling, too scared to go back to bed. But this guy smirked wickedly. “There are way more cockroaches on the floor.” I teleported back to the bed in one second. I didn’t dare turn off the light the rest of the night. Because the floor was damp and buggy, when I woke up the next morning and Leo was washing his face, I saw a huge patch of heat rash on his originally smooth back. But no matter what I said, he refused to go to a clinic. “It’s just a minor rash. I’m a guy, I’m thick-skinned. It’ll heal soon.” I knew he was just worried about spending money, so he was enduring it. I didn’t expose him. Guys need their pride. But in my heart, I silently vowed to treat him better. Much better. 5 If I’m eating his food and living in his place, I have to contribute something. I wanted to go to the construction site with him. Leo rubbed the top of my head and smiled. “The work is too hard. You can’t do it.” “I totally can! If everyone else can do it, why can’t I?” Leo couldn’t talk me out of it, so he took me to the site. I didn’t expect that after only an hour, I would get a severe sunburn. “Go home. It’s too sunny.” Leo adjusted the hard hat on my head, bent down to my eye level, flashed his white teeth, and smiled. “Look, your face is already sunburned.” “What are you doing! Instead of working, you’re over here flirting!” The arrogant project manager, Wayne Biggs, was hiding in the shade, constantly yelling at the workers to move faster. Everyone was hot and exhausted. “Coming!” Leo responded, then turned back to me, pulling out a few crumpled bills. “Go buy some drinks you like. Girls shouldn’t be out here.” Without waiting for my answer, he pushed a wheelbarrow piled high with bricks straight into the blazing sun. His clothes were soaked through with sweat, clinging tightly to the curves of his body. Holding the money he gave me, I felt a lump in my throat. The bills in my hand felt scorching hot. Making money is really, really hard. On such a hot day, forcing workers to toil under the sun at noon—this was pure bullying. “Hey! It’s noon! You should let everyone take a break!” Wayne raised an eyebrow, the cigarette in his mouth wobbling as he spoke indistinctly. “Where did this little brat come from? You think you can teach me how to do my job?” “It’s literally 104 degrees out here. You’re still making them work outside? If someone drops dead, can you take responsibility?” Wayne snubbed out his cigarette, revealing a mouthful of nasty yellow teeth, wearing a face that begged to be punched. “If they don’t want to work, they can screw off. There are plenty of people who need money right now. Who cares what the job is?” I was absolutely furious. I walked up to Wayne and lowered my voice in a warning. “My dad is Arthur Preston! This development belongs to his company! You better act right!” Wayne froze, then the smile on his face slowly widened. In the end, he actually laughed so hard he bent over. “And my dad is Elon Musk! Hahaha…” “…” For the first time in my life, I felt a sense of complete powerlessness. It was like swinging a punch into a pile of cotton. It turns out that once I stepped out of my dad’s shadow, I was absolutely nothing. I called my Uncle Joe—my dad’s brother—who spoiled me the most, begging for backup. “Uncle Joe, can you help me out? The project manager at this site is forcing workers to toil at noon, and I…” “Avery, your dad forbade us from interfering. How about this, you just apologize to him?” The old man was really playing for keeps this time. I didn’t want to go back to that house anyway. Even if he came begging me, I wouldn’t go back! 6 Sure enough, not long after, someone on the site got heatstroke. When he fainted, he almost fell right into the cement mixer. It was Leo who carried him back to the shade. The older worker, Ben, rested for a long while before he recovered. Ben was fanning himself with his hat brim, sighing. “Thank God for Leo. Otherwise, my old life would have been over.” I handed him some water. “Uncle Ben, drink some water to cool down.” Uncle Ben looked at me in surprise. “You’re a pretty, clean little girl. Why did you come to suffer on this construction site?” “I came with Leo.” Uncle Ben took a huge gulp of water, shaking his head helplessly. “You’re both good kids. Leo just has a hard life. As soon as the SATs were over, he came to the site to haul bricks to earn tuition money. Did you come to earn tuition too?” The question left me completely embarrassed. I hurriedly shook my head. “No, no, I’m just here to make ends meet.” I couldn’t exactly tell him I got a zero on the SATs and was kicked out by my dad, right? 7 Leo could tell I was in a bad mood, and he tried his best to make me laugh. He said he’d take me to have some good food. A small roadside diner was packed with workers who had just gotten off shift. They seemed very familiar with Leo, smiling and greeting him. “Leo, is this your girlfriend? She’s a knockout.” Leo froze. I threw an arm around his shoulders to save him. “We’re just bros, okay? Guys, please don’t tease our Leo anymore. He’s got thin skin.” Another round of roaring laughter. Leo, with a smile, pulled me down to sit. “You’re really not shy at all, are you?” I smiled and made a funny face at him. “Sister has seen it all.” He picked all the meat out of his dish and gave it to me. I protested; the meat was a bit too fatty. “I don’t eat fat.” He glanced at me helplessly, and picked the fatty pieces out of my bowl. “Then you eat the lean parts, and leave the fat for me.” “But my saliva is on this.” “It’s fine.” Watching him eat so seriously, my eyes got hot. I felt an intense ache in my chest for him. The old me always liked to order a ton of dishes, just taking one bite of each. Such waste. Only now did I realize how many people there are who can’t even bear to waste a single grain of rice dropped on the table. “Are you used to the food yet?” I smiled and nodded, but then I spotted a bright green caterpillar in the leafy greens. My scalp immediately went numb. If this had been the old me, I would have jumped up and flipped the table. But right now, the diner’s owner was sweating, furiously stir-frying dishes, with a crying baby strapped to her back. Everyone here was fighting tooth and nail just to survive. How could I bear to shatter this peace? I silently picked out the bug, and lowered my voice. “I’ll cook for you from now on. Eating out all the time is too expensive.” Leo looked up, the corners of his mouth turning up. “Are you serious?” “As serious as a heart attack.” 8 I have no idea where I got the courage to say I would cook for Leo. Before this, I had barely ever stepped foot into the massive kitchen at my house. For the first time, I learned how to keep a budget. I also learned how to haggle over prices at the grocery store. Since our funds were limited, and seeing how exhausting Leo’s work was, every dollar spent felt painful. The food I cooked was mediocre, but fortunately, Leo wasn’t a picky eater. He managed to eat whatever I made. He couldn’t bring himself to spend money on new pants, so I patched the hole in his cargo pants. He held back laughter, teasing my disastrous needlework, but was eager to wear them every single day. Over time, a feeling of being completely reliant on each other grew. I was raised pampered and spoiled; minor acts of kindness shouldn’t impress me. But when I saw Leo changing the sheets and curtains to pink, carefully arranging everything to make the tiny room feel warm, my heart would flutter and melt. Especially when I saw him counting his dollars just to get by, but still willing to buy a used AC unit for me. “Don’t waste money like this. I really don’t need it.” “You won’t sleep well in the summer heat without AC. I often see you kicking the covers off at night. You’ll catch a cold.” What could I do? I didn’t want to fall for him, but he just keeps smiling at me! What I could do was clean the house spotless while he was hauling bricks. I pulled open a drawer to organize his scattered items, and accidentally found his old high school ID. In the slightly yellowed photo, Leo was smiling at the camera, looking like a guy who could score a perfect 1600. I was smiling as I looked further down— Lincoln High School. This was the absolute best magnet high school in our state. The students there were all gifted prodigies. Every year, the school sends numerous students to Harvard and MIT. In the end, I had totally underestimated this idiot. 9 My dad called. I had been gone for so long, and he finally deigned to call me. “Avery, your Uncle Joe told me everything. You’ve tasted the hardship now. If you know you were wrong, just come home.” I was flipping stir-fry in the pan with a spatula while putting the phone on speaker. “What? I’m doing great. Gotta go, I’m cooking.” I hit ‘end call’ with my elbow, humming a little tune, feeling incredibly satisfied. Trying to make me yield? Never going to happen. I’m going to let Arthur Preston know that without him, I can live a great life. When dinner was ready, Leo still hadn’t returned. I tried calling him several times, but no one answered. The phone rang just as I was about to walk out the door to look for him at the site. “Hello? Why aren’t you back yet?” “Avery, Leo is currently being rushed to City General for emergency surgery…” My head went boom. I could barely hear what the other person was saying after that. 10 I’ve always hated the smell of hospitals. In my memory, my mom spent the final moments of her life in a hospital. She was originally stunningly beautiful, but became skeletal from chemotherapy. When she passed, I barely recognized her. When she left, she only left me a custom necklace that has been with me ever since. Still that familiar smell of disinfectant. Still terrifying me to the point of a panic attack. I was so afraid someone I cared about was going to leave me again. When I arrived, Leo was being wheeled toward the OR. The gauze on his head was stained red with blood. His white T-shirt was covered in crimson. His originally ruddy lips were now deathly pale. He was slipping into a semi-coma. “Leo!” He opened his eyes, opened his mouth, but couldn’t make a sound. I grabbed his hand, holding back the tears. “I know. Don’t worry about the money.” The doctor was anxiously pushing the gurney, looking back at me. “Are you family? Hurry up and do the admission and billing paperwork!” “Doctor, you must protect his brain! He still needs to go to college!” The operating room doors closed. Several fellow workers were anxiously waiting outside in the hall. Uncle Ben walked up and pulled my arm. “Avery, don’t panic. Leo will be fine.” “What happened? He was completely fine when he left this morning!” Uncle Ben viciously slapped his own face twice, tears streaming down his weathered cheeks. “It’s all my fault! If I hadn’t insisted on climbing that scaffolding to unjam the pulley, Leo wouldn’t have gotten hit by the falling rebar trying to push me out of the way.” “Uncle Ben, don’t…” I bit my lower lip, holding Uncle Ben’s hand. Even though my heart was bleeding for Leo, I also felt deep compassion for this old man. Uncle Ben pulled out neatly folded, crumpled bills from his pocket, and handed them to me with trembling hands. “Take this money. If it’s not enough, I’ll try to pool some more…” The other workers also crowded around, pulling out whatever cash they had in their wallets to give to me. I was stunned. These people, for a few bucks, work themselves to the bone. Yet when someone is in a life-or-death crisis, they offer everything they have without hesitation. Simple and genuine. While my dad’s associates in the corporate world flatter each other with fake smiles, plotting to stab each other in the back. Polite and hypocritical. “Thank you, everyone. I can’t take your money. I’ll figure something out.” This money was their lifeblood. How could I take it? 11 I pulled out the Cartier necklace my mom left me, planning to sell it at a pawn shop. “Mom, will you forgive me? He is really, really important to me.” The diamonds refracted a mesmerizing light under the sun. This was the only physical connection I had left to my mother. The pawn shop owner was a middle-aged woman wearing bright red lipstick. She glanced at me with disdain, and took the necklace. She took a jeweler’s loupe and examined it closely, then her hand trembled. She pushed her reading glasses up her nose to continue inspecting. “How much are you offering?” She put down the loupe, looked up at me, her eyes revealing a greedy glint. “This necklace isn’t worth much. The market price is maybe five or six grand. And this is used. I’ll give you three thousand.” “This is a custom-designed Cartier diamond necklace. It is the only one in the world, worth over a million dollars, and you’re telling me three thousand?” The owner coughed twice to cover her embarrassment, picking the loupe back up. “Is this really yours?” “Yes. Hurry up, I need the cash for a medical emergency.” She nodded, and stood up. “Wait right here.” Five minutes later, two police officers walked through the door. “We received a report of suspected stolen property. Come back to the precinct with us.” I looked at the owner. She rolled her eyes at me. “I called the cops. There’s no telling how a girl dressed like you got a piece like this. I don’t want to handle stolen goods.” I swear to God…

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The heavy stench of alcohol on him was a constant reminder: he had still gone to see Emma last night. I lost control of my emotions. I pushed him away, pulled off my engagement ring, and threw it into the dark. He searched desperately for it all day. When soft tactics didn’t work, he resorted to force. But I already didn’t want to love him anymore. 1 Emma Davis was back. She deliberately sent me a text: “Chloe, thank you for staying by Liam’s side through those hard times.” It happened just as Liam Carter walked in. It happened just as we were in the middle of a cold war. I unconsciously bit my lower lip, a bitter taste spreading in my mouth. Today was his birthday. I had baked a cake from scratch, wanting to be the first to soften and make peace. But the moment I opened the door, I saw Liam and Emma tangled together on the sofa. Smash! The cake dropped and splattered all over the floor. I slammed the door and walked away. Liam panicked and chased after me. “Chloe, it’s not what it looks like.” He reeked of alcohol, mixed with the pungent scent of her perfume. It made me want to gag. “I get it,” I said. “It’s just a mistake any man might make. Go back and finish what you started.” “Chloe, stop making a scene. I can’t lose you.” My Uber arrived quickly. Thoroughly disappointed and drained of all anger, I said, “I’m really tired today. Just let me go, okay?” Liam lowered his head. I hadn’t seen him in a few days, and his hair seemed to have grown longer, covering his eyes. He looked exhausted, conflicted, and torn. Ever since his business took off, he had become calm and decisive. I hadn’t seen him look this lost and helpless in a very long time. He finally let go of my hand, hesitating. “Let me take you back to the hotel.” The dim night wind blew, sending a chill straight to my heart. “No need.” I got into the car. The driver reminded me to buckle up and started the engine. I leaned against the window, the bumps in the road making my head sway gently. My heart still ached terribly. Maybe because I had been so fiercely loyal to him, he took it as a given that I would never leave. So, he offered no explanation and made no real effort to make me stay. But what he didn’t know was that I was tired. I didn’t want to love him anymore. I watched the neon lights outside blur into streaks of color as the past played back in my mind like a movie. Liam and I didn’t have many romantic memories. The moment that moved me the most was the night he saved me. He didn’t know me back then, but I had a huge crush on him. That night, after a late study session at the campus library, a creep followed me on my way back to the dorms. Hearing the gross laughter and quickening footsteps behind me, I was terrified. Then, just like the male lead in a movie, Liam appeared right on time. He threw an arm around my shoulder and smiled. “Girlfriend, wandering around this late? I’m gonna get mad.” He escorted me all the way back to my building. I didn’t sleep at all that night. My mind was full of his handsome side profile, our overlapping shadows under the streetlights, and that ambiguous word: “Girlfriend.” Having a crush is a chaotic, one-person war. Even making eye contact with him made my heart race. But his eyes were only ever on Emma. Emma liked the attention, but she looked down on his poor background, always stringing him along. It wasn’t until Emma started dating a trust-fund kid and moved abroad that Liam finally gave up. During that time, he let his studies slip, drank himself into a stupor, and hit rock bottom. Losing Emma shattered him. I couldn’t bear to see him destroy himself, so I secretly kept tabs on him and wrote him letters of encouragement. After graduation, I thought our paths would never cross again. Unexpectedly, we ended up working at the same corporate firm. Later, because of our projects, we spent more and more time together. We ate lunch together, went on business trips, pulled all-nighters, and grabbed late-night diner food. We drifted closer, our interactions growing increasingly ambiguous. We finally made it official after a client dinner. That night, an aggressive client got handsy and ended up ripping a button off my white blouse. Liam got into a fistfight for me, draped his suit jacket over my shoulders, and boldly escorted me out in front of everyone. To appease the client, the manager fired him on the spot. That night, his emotions were incredibly unstable. He drank too much, his voice trembling as he shouted at the city skyline across the river. “Why?! Just because we don’t have power, money, or connections, we have to be bullied and swallow our pride?! I swear I’m going to make a name for myself and smash their ugly faces!” I wept silently, holding him tightly. Two down-and-out people huddled together for warmth in the freezing wind. He confessed to me. There were no sweet words, just his dark, shining eyes. “Chloe, be with me. I won’t ever let you down.” Crying, I cupped his face, kissed his lips, and said yes. The wind tangled our hair together. That night, we awkwardly and passionately explored each other. At the height of it, he kissed my ear and hoarsely repeated, “Chloe, I won’t let you down.” A soft, miraculous feeling seeped into my heart. I felt so safe. I held him and cried as I kissed him back. Later, I stayed by his side as he launched his startup. Slowly, our little company grew. Then it became a massive corporation, and Liam became an industry titan. I thought I was lucky. I thought I was the one who got to walk to the finish line with the regretful crush of my youth. It wasn’t until Emma came back that I realized how pathetic I was. Years of my loyal companionship couldn’t rival a single pout from her. He grew colder toward me, came home later and later, and we spoke less and less. Thinking back, Liam and I never even had a honeymoon phase. We were always just… steady. Plain. Even the romantic things he said to me were incredibly bland: “Chloe, being with you makes me feel at peace.” I used to be so moved by that. Until I accidentally unlocked his old phone and looked through the photo gallery. He had played the guitar for her under the moonlight. He had hand-carved a wooden comb for her. He had lit a heart made of candles for her. He had stayed up all night writing poetry for her. It turned out he wasn’t incapable of romance or surprises. He just didn’t want to waste his time and energy preparing them for me. Maybe he had never felt his heart flutter for me. He chose me simply because I didn’t throw tantrums, didn’t make demands, and devoted myself entirely to him. 2 The next day, I drove to the office. In truth, I hadn’t been to the company in a while. Even though I owned shares, I didn’t like corporate management or the business operations, so I held an empty title and spent most of my time running my own floral boutique. When Liam saw me, surprise flashed in his eyes. He had dark circles under them; he clearly hadn’t slept well last night. “Chloe, what are you doing here?” “I think there are some things we need to make clear.” A knock on the door interrupted us. Someone brought in tea, accompanied by a very familiar perfume scent. I looked at the person holding the tray. Sure enough, it was Emma. I knew that scent all too well. On countless nights when Liam came home late, I had smelled it on his suit. At first, I only suspected. I never expected that they had rekindled their messy, tangled affair long before I even noticed, and that he had actually given her a job at our company. How incredibly ironic. A rare look of panic flashed across Liam’s face. He only ever showed that kind of flustered, helpless expression in front of his old flame. “You can step out,” Liam told her. Emma pouted, a playful look crossing her flawlessly manicured face. I couldn’t stand watching them flirt right under my nose. “Wait. Fire her. Right now.” “Chloe, calm down,” Liam pleaded. “I’m already helping her find another job. Her family went bankrupt, her boyfriend dumped her, and she’s drowning in debt. We were college classmates. I purely just want to help her.” Helping her all the way into his bed? Purely? I saw Emma holding back a smirk, only to instantly put on a pitiful, fragile look the moment Liam glanced her way. Any man would feel a surge of protective instinct seeing that—especially since she was his untouchable first love. Emma spoke up in a weak voice. “Chloe, we used to be roommates. Don’t be so ruthless. What you saw yesterday was truly a misunderstanding. I can explain.” “Liam, I’m giving you two choices. She leaves, or I leave.” “Chloe, stop acting out. You never used to be this aggressive.” There it was again. That torn, conflicted expression. Suddenly, it was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over my head. Disappointment made me unusually calm. After all these years by his side, I only managed to occupy a small corner of his heart. I could never become his undeniable preference. He would never choose me without hesitation. Perhaps my gaze was too icy, because he finally compromised and fired Emma. But I knew she hadn’t lost, and I hadn’t won. 3 “Liam, we…” Before I could finish, my words were silenced by a soft warmth pressing against my lips. Whenever we fought in the past, he used this method. Dominant yet gentle, he would show weakness, holding me and coaxing me in a soft voice: “Promise me, never say those two words (break up).” But this time, his eyes were red. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I’ll handle this properly. Just give me some time, please? That day was truly an accident. She was drunk and out of her mind. I was going to push her away, but you came back right then. Chloe, I can’t live without you. Don’t look at me like that, it kills me.” Looking at him now, my heart felt absolutely nothing. I even found it laughable. I used to always watch him. When he was happy, I was happy. When he was sad, I was even sadder. I always tried so hard to step into his world, but he never actively shared his joys or sorrows with me. Back when we first started the business, he worked himself to the bone to build connections, secure orders, and expand the company. He skipped meals, ignored his illnesses, drank heavily every day, traveled constantly, and messed up his sleep schedule. I knew he was under immense pressure. It’s not easy fighting for success alone. I wanted to share the burden, but he never talked to me. He only ever told me not to worry. But how could I not worry? Every time I saw him throwing up in the bathroom for half an hour, or smoking irritably on the balcony, I could only stand behind him, constantly guessing his situation, feeling deeply anxious, and suffering from insomnia night after night. Maybe even if Emma hadn’t reappeared, my heart would have grown exhausted by him eventually anyway. I pushed him away, my mind made up. “Let’s break up. The wedding is off.” My best friend Maya heard what happened and rushed over to see me in a panic. We found a coffee shop downstairs from the company. The moment we sat down, Maya started cursing him out. “I was so blind. I never expected Liam to be such a scumbag. You guys are almost married, and he’s still tangled up with another woman! We can’t let this slide. That shameless bitch, Emma Davis, right? Watch how I handle her. Don’t worry Chloe, I’ll definitely get revenge for you.” “I broke up with him.” “Break up… good! Wait, what? You just said you broke up?! Chloe, if you initiate a breakup now, aren’t you playing right into their hands? This is too much. When you got together with him, he had absolutely nothing. If it weren’t for you, how could he be this successful today? Even if you break up, you can’t let him off that easily.” Right on cue, Emma showed up at the absolute worst time. She didn’t see me. She and a few friends happened to sit at the table right behind us. “Emma, you’re amazing! I heard you bagged another rich boyfriend.” Emma smugly showed off, “Oh, him? He’s an old college classmate. He had a massive crush on me back then, but I wasn’t interested. Who would have thought that after all these years, he’s still obsessed with me?” “Emma, your charm is insane. I’m so jealous.” “If it weren’t for the fact that he’s doing pretty well for himself now, there’s no way I would have ever gone back to an ex.” “Emma, don’t tell me you’re only with him because he has money now?” They all giggled together in a knowing, unspoken agreement. The laughter pierced my ears, incredibly grating. I grabbed my iced coffee and poured it directly over her head. The dark liquid dripped down from her hair, crawling down her face like disgusting little worms. Emma shrieked, “Chloe Bennett, are you crazy?!” “I think you’re the crazy one. Ruining someone else’s relationship—is that really something worth bragging about?” “What are you doing?!” Liam’s voice rang out. “Liam!” Emma cried. “She’s bullying me!” What perfect timing. Liam appeared exactly when she needed rescuing. 4 Emma threw herself pitifully into Liam’s arms, rubbing against his chest. Her makeup stained his crisp, clean shirt with brown smudges. It looked so dirty. So incredibly dirty. His hand rested on her shoulder. He couldn’t bear to push her away, yet he looked at me with an expression of sheer disbelief. It was as if I could hear his words echoing again: “Chloe, stop acting out. You never used to be this aggressive.” Every single word was like a needle, densely packed and stabbing directly into my heart. Liam. It’s been seven years. Have you ever truly understood me? Walking out of the coffee shop, a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I leaned against the brick wall in an alleyway, dry heaving violently, but nothing came up. Maya patted my back gently. “Chloe, what’s wrong?” I felt terrible. I couldn’t utter a single word, only shaking my head continuously. Maya grew worried. “You’re not… pregnant, are you? We need to go to the hospital right now.” Liam had chased after us. Seeing the dark stain on his shirt, the nausea I had just managed to suppress surged back up, and I started dry heaving again. He scooped me up into his arms. I pounded on his chest like a madwoman, but he didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. Maya panicked and blocked his path. “What the hell are you doing? Put Chloe down!” Liam’s voice was devoid of warmth. “If you don’t want anything bad to happen to her, get out of my way.” He placed me in the passenger seat and buckled my seatbelt. I felt a bone-deep chill. Staring at him numbly, I said only one word: “Dirty.” The doctor confirmed it. I was a little over two months pregnant. I bit my lower lip so hard a sweet, metallic taste filled my mouth. The coldness spread from my chest through my entire body. My little baby, you really came at the wrong time. It started pouring rain outside. The drops fell like broken strings of pearls, violently tapping against the windowpanes. When I woke up, the dim, yellow lights of the hospital room made me feel momentarily disoriented. I remembered the first time I ever brought up breaking up. It was also in a hospital, only the person lying in the bed was Liam. He had finally collapsed from the intense workload. First a high fever, then a bleeding stomach ulcer. He was unconscious for a very long time. Seeing him lying there so pale, refusing to wake up, I was terrified. All my grievances, sorrow, and insecurity mixed together and exploded in an instant, crushing my fragile nerves. I had clearly told him: smoke less, drink less, don’t stay up all night, eat your meals on time, and don’t delay going to the doctor when you’re sick. But he never listened. He acted like his body was made of iron. He kept everything from me, always trying to be the tough guy, until he dragged himself into a severe illness. When his condition finally stabilized, I asked for a breakup. I thought I could say those two words calmly, but once they actually left my mouth, I covered my face and broke down crying. Liam hugged me, rubbing my back, coaxing me in my ear: “Chloe, it’s okay. Don’t cry. It’s all my fault for making you worry. I promise there won’t be a next time.” Back then, I was still so deeply, hopelessly in love with this man. But bit by bit, he had completely drained away every expectation I ever had for him. Sometimes I felt that maybe Liam had never loved me at all. It was just that no one else had ever loved him as purely as I did. “Liam, we are already broken up. I don’t want to see you ever again.” Hearing my voice, Liam suddenly snapped his head up. His hair was a mess. His hands were trembling. His eyes were red and entirely bloodshot. Was he crying? He carefully took my hand and pressed it against his forehead. The moment our skin touched, he buried his head again, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. I felt a wet patch spread across my palm. He was crying! He was always so calm and restrained, but right now, he was sobbing like a helpless child. I didn’t understand. Why was he acting so devastated? What was the point? Right now, I felt nothing but disappointment toward him. Liam’s voice was raspy. “I don’t accept it. I told you, I can’t live without you. I will absolutely never let you go. I’m sorry, I was wrong…” I sneered. “Liam, do you know what? Seeing you cry right now… I just find it incredibly pathetic.” 5 Honestly, I felt fine physically and wanted to be discharged immediately, but Liam forbade it. He insisted I stay in the hospital for a few more days for observation. I didn’t have the energy to fight him, so I just lay down and turned my back to him. Liam fussed over me endlessly. Tucking me in, pouring me warm water, peeling fruit for me. Like a puppy that knew it did something wrong, dropping its head to curry favor. But I had no desire to acknowledge him. I texted Maya to come pick me up. Taking advantage of a moment when Liam stepped out to take a phone call, I made my escape. When Liam realized it, he chased after me, but was intercepted by a tall, muscular man. I got into Maya’s car. She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “How about that? I brought my older brother. Reliable, right?” As the car slowly pulled away, Liam grew further and further in the distance. He sprinted after us desperately, but couldn’t catch up. The sky was a dull gray. It started raining again, the drops smashing against the windshield, blurring the figure in the rearview mirror until he was gone. “Chloe, are you okay?” I shook my head. Maya was worried about me, so she took me back to her place. She even cooked a whole table of delicious food for me. Though I didn’t have much of an appetite, I was deeply touched. “Maya, you’re so domestic. Whoever marries you is going to be the luckiest guy in the world.” “Shut up, I don’t ever want to get married. Don’t jinx me.” I picked up a piece of pot roast, but just as I was about to take a bite, a sudden wave of nausea hit me. I sprinted to the bathroom and threw up violently. Maya started crying out of worry. “Chloe, what is wrong with you?!” I remained unusually calm. “It’s fine. I’m just pregnant.” The pale yellow nightlight cast a faint glow in the room. I lay flat on the bed next to Maya, staring at the ceiling, making aimless small talk. It felt as if we had returned to our carefree college days. Then, my phone buzzed with a notification. I thought it was Liam and didn’t want to look, but when I opened it, it was a message from Emma. “I really have to thank you for giving Liam back to me.” She attached a photo. In it, Liam was blackout drunk, slumped over a table. Emma was kissing his cheek, looking straight into the camera with a triumphant, victorious smile. She was provoking me. She clearly didn’t realize that I was no longer the same Chloe Bennett who was so easy to bully years ago. Pregnancy fueled my rebellion. A suffocating rage ignited in the pit of my stomach. I hated Liam. I despised Emma. I wanted revenge. Liam and I had once drafted a “breakup agreement” for our shared assets. He had probably forgotten. Back then, to prevent Emma from returning and snatching him away, I intentionally added a clause: If Liam ever gets back together with Emma, he will voluntarily transfer all his assets to my name. At the time, he laughed at me for being jealous over nothing and signed it without hesitation. Regretting it now would be useless. But to stop Liam from trying to back out, I needed to gather more evidence of him being with Emma. “Chloe, what’s wrong?” “I’ve decided. I’m going to play matchmaker for Liam and Emma.” “Chloe, don’t scare me.” Maya looked totally confused. She pressed her palm to my forehead, thinking I had a fever that had literally burned my brain. I explained the breakup agreement to her. She immediately gave me a thumbs-up and praised me. “I underestimated you! You had a backup plan this whole time. I’m definitely helping you with this. When you become a rich, single billionaire, don’t forget about me!” We racked our brains coming up with wicked schemes, cursing both of them out, and eventually felt incredibly vindicated and relaxed. The next morning, I woke up early to start executing my plan. But when I opened the door, I saw Liam. He was sitting on the floor, his knees pulled up, leaning against the wall. His head was buried in his crossed arms. His tall frame was curled up into a tight ball, looking like an abandoned child. He looked so incredibly sad and lonely. Hearing the door open, he looked up at me. His eyes were heavy and drooping. A man in his early thirties, looking utterly pathetic. “What are you doing here?” He suddenly stood up and hugged me tightly, his voice hoarse and trembling. “Chloe, it took me so long to find you. Please don’t leave me, okay? I know I was wrong. I really know I was wrong.” The heavy stench of alcohol on him was a constant reminder: he had still gone to see Emma last night. I lost control of my emotions. I used all my strength to push him away. I pulled the engagement ring off my ring finger and, right in front of his face, hurled it as far as I could into the distance. The ring traced a swift arc through the air and vanished from sight. “Liam, whatever we had is just like that ring. You can never get it back.” “I can find it.” Liam walked off in the direction I had thrown it, searching the ground. 6 I thought he would give up quickly. The apartment complex was huge, and the ring was so small. The chances of finding it were practically zero. He was a man who never wasted his time or energy on meaningless tasks. But to my shock, he searched for the entire day and never gave up. Watching him stumble around, looking like he was going to pass out at any second, I finally felt a pang of pity. “Stop looking. You won’t find it. Just go. If you die of exhaustion out here, I’m not taking responsibility.” Liam acted as if he didn’t hear me. He forced himself to keep going, muttering to himself, “I will definitely find it.” The sky was getting darker. If he actually found it, it would be a literal miracle. I couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. I turned around to leave. “I found it!” Liam gasped loudly. He excitedly grabbed my hand. His grip was incredibly strong; no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t pull my hand back. I could only watch as he slid the ring back onto my ring finger. “So what if you found it? I can just throw it away again.” “Don’t you dare.” I tried to throw it again, but he pinned my arms down. Then, he scooped me up into his arms. I fought back. I just wanted to push him away, but in my panic, my nails dug into his face and scratched him. The deep gouge extended from beneath his eye down to his jawline, beads of blood welling up. It looked exactly like a trail of bloody tears. Seeing that long, bleeding scratch, I felt terrible and stopped struggling. He didn’t get angry. His tone actually softened. “Chloe, stop fighting. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Maya rushed out, wanting to save me, but one look from Liam terrified her into freezing in place. His eyes were filled with a dark, paranoid possessiveness. The night wind was chilly, and I shivered. Liam took off his jacket, draped it over me, and put me in his car. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him, but from the corner of my eye, I could still see that brutal scar. When we got out of the car, he was afraid I’d run, so he held me tight the entire way up. I demanded to be put down so I could walk myself, but he refused. His grip was an iron vice; I couldn’t break free at all. When we entered the elevator, people stared at us. I felt so humiliated I buried my face in his jacket, only to hear him let out a faint, barely audible chuckle. Once inside our home, he set me down on the sofa and crouched beside me. That bloody scratch made his gaze look even more tragic. “It’s okay if you don’t forgive me. You can hit me, you can scream at me, but you cannot leave me.” “You’re insane.” Soft tactics had failed, so now he was using force to keep me by his side. “Your custom wedding dress is ready. We’re going to try it on tomorrow. Our wedding is proceeding as scheduled.” “Why?! You clearly love Emma! Why won’t you just let me go?!” “No, Chloe. I love you.” It was the first time I had ever heard such a serious, desperate confession leave his lips. My brain short-circuited. “I don’t care. I’m not marrying you. Marry whoever you want.” That night, I had a nightmare. In the dream, Liam and I were walking arm-in-arm down the aisle. It was supposed to be a joyous occasion, but the way Liam looked at me was deeply sorrowful. I felt a warm rush of fluid from my abdomen. My pristine white wedding gown was stained with fresh blood. My hands were covered in blood. Everything I looked at was washed in crimson. I panicked. It hurt so much. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t make a sound. My body went weightless as I fell backward. I jolted awake, drenched in a cold sweat. The other side of the bed was empty. Liam was leaning against the balcony railing, staring into the pitch-black night. The ember of his cigarette glowed and faded. He smoked one after another, the pale moonlight tracing the silhouette of an incredibly tragic, burdened man. Suddenly, a profound sense of dread washed over me.

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My wife brought her male assistant home for a shower. She even let him use her favorite plush bath towel. I sat on the living room sofa, my hands buried in my lap, white-knuckled, forcing the bile back down. I told myself to stay calm, to wait for an explanation that wasn’t an insult. Then, she started looking for an ashtray. Jordan walked out of our master bedroom, a lit cigarette dangling from his lip, wearing nothing but that towel—the one I’d bought Rachel for our first anniversary. The sight of him, so casual and proprietary in my sanctuary, was the final spark. I stood up, my voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. “Rachel, don’t you think this has gone a little too far?” Rachel didn’t even flinch. She spared me a glance that was as cold as a winter morning in Chicago. “What is wrong with you now?” “What’s wrong with me?” I let out a jagged, hollow laugh. I pointed a trembling finger at Jordan. “You told me you hated the smell of smoke. You made me quit cold turkey three years ago because you said it made you nauseous. So why is he allowed to light up in our bedroom when I’m not even allowed to touch a pack?” I took a step closer, the air between us thick with things unsaid. “You brought a man into our home to shower. He’s wearing your towel. Do I even exist to you anymore?” Rachel adjusted her watch, her expression bored. “He’s not like you, Nicky.” … I stared at her, the words echoing in the quiet of the apartment. Jordan was her assistant. I was her husband. Of course we weren’t the same. But the subtext in Rachel’s voice wasn’t about our roles; it was about our value. To her, I was less than the man she paid to pick up her dry cleaning. Jordan looked at me, a smug, lopsided grin tugging at his mouth. He turned to Rachel, flicking an ash onto the hardwood floor. “Boss, the ash is getting long.” “We don’t have an ashtray,” Rachel said, her voice softening for him in a way it hadn’t for me in years. “Just use the kitchen bin.” Then, she turned back to me, her voice returning to that sharp, commanding tone. “Go to the kitchen and bring the trash can out for Jordan.” “You want me to be his personal valet?” I was reeling. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a cold hand. I looked at the woman I had spent two years supporting, wondering when she had become this stranger. “Don’t just stand there, man. Hurry up before I drop this on your rug,” Jordan urged, his voice dripping with mock impatience. I sat back down on the sofa, my gaze hardening. I didn’t say a word, but I stared directly into Rachel’s eyes. I was finished with the games. I wanted—I needed—her to give me one reason not to walk out that door. “Jordan closed the Matt account tonight,” Rachel said, as if that explained everything. “He’s the hero of the firm right now. Can’t you just swallow your pride for one night?” I laughed again, though there was no humor in it. “He signs a contract, so he gets to bathe in our house and use your towel? Should I just leave right now and give you two some privacy?” Before Rachel could even respond, Jordan flicked a massive clump of ash directly onto the floor and gave me a shark-like grin. “That’d be great, actually.” I shot him a look of pure venom, a silent warning that usually made men twice his size back down. But he didn’t blink. He had Rachel as his shield, and he knew it. I looked back at her. If she had scolded him, if she had shown even a flicker of respect for our marriage, I might have found a way to forgive her. Instead, she gave me nothing but a deafening silence. Her lack of defense for me was a roar of betrayal. It told me exactly where I stood: I was the obstacle in the room. I was the one who didn’t belong. I stood up slowly. “Rachel, do you really want me to go?” “Go take a walk. Get some air,” she said, not even looking at me. “Come back when you’ve calmed down.” The last bit of warmth in my chest died then. Jordan’s face lit up with a triumphant, ugly smirk. I nodded slowly. “I hope you two are very happy.” I turned and walked toward the door without looking back. There was no hesitation, no dramatic pause. I realized now that bringing Jordan home wasn’t a lapse in judgment; it was a tactical move. She wanted me to quit. She wanted to push me until I broke so she didn’t have to be the villain who ended us. Fine. If she wanted a life without me, I wasn’t going to beg for a seat at her table. I don’t do charity cases, and I certainly don’t value love that has to be negotiated. I reached the door and stopped for just a second. Jordan’s voice drifted from the living room, laced with mockery. “Hey, Nicky? Did you remember where the ashtrays were on your way out?” I looked over my shoulder at him. I memorized that look of petty victory on his face. I’d be seeing it again soon. “Is there something else?” Rachel asked, her brow furrowed with irritation. “Rachel, I want a divorce.” The room went dead silent. Rachel froze, her eyes widening as the words finally registered. “You… what did you just say?” “I said I want a divorce. I’ll have the papers at your office tomorrow for you to sign.” With that, I stepped out of the apartment—the place that used to feel like home—and didn’t look back. That night, I called my best friend. When he heard the news, he didn’t offer sympathy; he offered a night out. He’d never liked Rachel. He’d seen the cracks in the foundation long before I was willing to admit the house was falling down. After a night of heavy drinks and a clarity that only comes with rock bottom, I spent the morning at a law firm. Then, I headed straight to the corporate headquarters of the Zachary Group. When I saw Rachel in her office, she looked refreshed. Radiant, even. There was a faint mark on her neck—a bruise she had tried to cover with foundation, but I knew what it was. The “green hat” she’d made me wear wasn’t just a one-night affair. I wondered how long she’d been playing me for a fool. I didn’t say a word. I simply dropped the divorce settlement on her desk. Rachel picked it up, scanning the pages. Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re serious? You… you’re walking away with nothing?” She had clearly expected a fight. She’d probably spent the morning bracing for me to demand half the company, half the assets, a monthly check. Instead, I was leaving with exactly what I came with: nothing. She looked genuinely confused, almost suspicious. Before she could speak, the door burst open. Jordan didn’t even knock. He stormed in, his eyes darting between me and the papers in Rachel’s hand. He lunged across the desk, snatched the settlement, and ripped it into shreds. “Rachel, don’t sign anything this loser gives you! He’s trying to play you.” Rachel, who had been about to chastise him for the intrusion, turned her gaze back to me, her eyes flaring with sudden anger. “Nicky, I see what’s going on now. No wonder you were so quick to ask for a divorce. No wonder you didn’t ask for a dime.” She stood up, leaning over her desk. “You’ve been cheating on me, haven’t you? This is all just a guilt trip so you can run off with whatever trash you’ve been seeing behind my back. You’re disgusting.” I stared at her, amazed by the sheer audacity of her projection. I didn’t argue. I just looked at Jordan and asked, “And which one of your ‘sources’ told you I was cheating?” “Oh, please,” Jordan sneered. “I knew you were a snake. I’ve been keeping an eye on you.” He reached into his pocket and tossed a handful of photos onto the desk. Rachel and I both looked down. The top photo was clear: it was me, entering a hotel with a woman. I was carrying her bags. “Well, well,” Rachel laughed, the sound cold and biting. “You’ve been busy, Nicky. Here I am, pouring my soul into this company, and you’re out playing house while you coast on my paycheck. You’re a lazy, pathetic excuse for a husband. And her?” She pointed at the woman in the photo. “You really have no taste, do you? What does she have that I don’t?” I opened my mouth to explain—to tell her that the woman was my sister visiting from out of town—but I stopped. What was the point? Suddenly, without warning, Jordan swung his hand. Slap. The sound echoed like a gunshot in the small office. My head snapped to the side. For a moment, I was just stunned. Jordan puffed out his chest, convinced he’d won. “She’s the boss, Nicky. Even if you leave, you don’t get a cent of her money after what you did.” Rachel nodded, her expression hardening. “Good call, Jordan. I almost felt bad for a second.” She looked at me with pure loathing. “Nicky, you’re fired. Effective immediately. My legal team will draft a new settlement. You leave with nothing, and you leave knowing this was your fault, not mine.” I rubbed my stinging cheek, my eyes locking onto Jordan’s smug face. “What are you looking at?” Jordan barked. “You don’t like it? Do something about it, you coward—” I didn’t let him finish. I lunged forward and buried my fist in his jaw. CRACK. A muffled scream erupted from him as he hit the floor. Outside the glass walls of the office, the staff stopped dead, staring in shock. Jordan clutched his mouth, blood beginning to seep through his fingers. “Call the police!” Jordan wheezed. “He’s trying to kill me!” Rachel was frozen for a heartbeat, then she screamed, “Security! Get him out of here!” Three guards burst through the door a moment later. “Throw him out!” Rachel pointed at me, her voice shrill and hysterical. “Don’t bother,” I said, straightening my jacket. “I can find the exit myself.” “You’re going to jail for this, you son of a bitch!” Jordan yelled as I walked away. Rachel tried to quiet him down; she didn’t want a scandal affecting the company’s reputation. As I walked through the bullpen, every employee watched me. Most of them had smirks on their faces. To them, I was just the “trophy husband” who sat in an office and did nothing. I was the guy who came in late and left early, the one who didn’t care about the grind. They called me “The Freeloader” behind my back. Seeing me get tossed out was the highlight of their week. I heard the whispers—serves him right, finally getting what’s coming to him. I ignored them all. I walked toward the lobby, my head held high. Just as I reached the glass front doors, I ran into a man getting out of a black sedan. It was Mr. Blackwood, the biggest client the Zachary Group had. He was the powerhouse behind the massive deal Jordan had supposedly “closed” the night before. When Blackwood saw me, his stern face immediately broke into a wide, respectful smile. He reached out his hand. “Nicky! It’s been too long.” I shook his hand, giving him a weary smile. “It has been, Arthur. Though today isn’t my best day.” “Oh? Something wrong?” Before I could answer, Rachel came sprinting toward us. “Mr. Blackwood! I am so sorry, I didn’t realize you’d arrived already. Please, forgive the chaos. Let’s head upstairs,” she said, her voice dripping with sycophancy. She gave the security guards a sharp nod. “Why is he still here? Get him off the property!” The guards stepped toward me, but Blackwood threw up a hand, stopping them in their tracks. “Nicky, what is going on?” “I’ve been fired, Arthur,” I said simply. Blackwood’s face went pale. He turned to Rachel, his voice dropping an octave. “Mrs. Matt, is this true? You fired him?” “Mr. Blackwood, this is an internal matter, I promise it won’t affect our work,” Rachel said, her smile wavering. “Please, ignore him.” As she gestured for the guards to move again, Blackwood’s expression turned to stone. “Mrs. Matt,” he said, his voice echoing through the lobby. “If Nicky is no longer with this company, then Blackwood Industries is no longer with the Zachary Group. All contracts are terminated, effective immediately.” The silence that followed was absolute. Rachel wasn’t just confused—she looked like she’d been struck by lightning. The entire office staff stood paralyzed.

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When I first entered the workforce, my mother laid down the ground rules. “I need fifteen hundred a month from you to help out with the family,” she told me, her voice brooking no argument. “We’re going to build a custom home on the family lot. When it’s done, you’ll finally have a bedroom all to yourself. Plus, I’ll be putting some of it away for your future wedding. You know you’d just blow it all if you kept it yourself.” I believed her. I believed her so completely that I practically bled myself dry trying to scrape together that fifteen hundred from my entry-level salary. More than anything, I just wanted a room of my own. My coworkers used to look at me with a mix of pity and exasperation. “Are you out of your mind, Gemma?” they’d ask. “Aren’t you worried she’s just going to use your money to subsidize your sibling?” “And so what if they build a house?” another pointed out. “It’s not like your name is going to be on the deed.” I would just laugh it off, brushing away their concerns. “I don’t have a brother,” I’d explain. “It’s just me and my younger sister. I don’t have to worry about that whole ‘saving everything for the golden boy’ dynamic. And besides, helping my parents have a better life… it’s the right thing to do.” Hearing that, my coworkers would usually drop it. A few years later, my sister, Paige, got her first job. My mother called me with an updated demand. “Your sister is contributing twenty-four hundred a month,” she said, her tone dripping with pointed meaning. “She doesn’t spend a dime on herself. You need to match that, Gemma. Otherwise, it’s going to be very tricky to divide up the space in the new house.” And so, I put my head down and worked even harder. I picked up a second job, exhausted to the bone, just to meet her quota. I did this right up until the day the new house was finished. When the time came to claim our spaces, my parents took the sprawling master suite. Paige took the large second bedroom. And the third, smallest bedroom? That was designated as Paige’s “yoga and reading studio.” 1 “Well, you’re always working in the city anyway. You hardly ever come home,” my mother said. She didn’t even blink. Her tone was as casual as if she were discussing the weather. “Giving you a dedicated bedroom would just be a waste of space. If you visit, you can just squeeze in with your sister.” Paige seized the moment, linking her arm through mine, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Exactly, Gem! I don’t mind sharing with you. It’ll be just like when we were little, two sisters in one room. It’ll be so cozy! We can stay up and share secrets…” The sheer, suffocating weight of the betrayal hit my chest so hard I couldn’t breathe. The years of exhaustion, the deprivation, the hollow ache in my stomach—it all boiled over. I shoved Paige’s arm away. “Why the hell should I share a room with you?” My voice was shaking. “Why do you get two rooms, and I get nothing?” Paige stumbled back a step, catching her balance. She immediately twisted her face into a mask of tearful victimization, looking up at me with wide, wounded eyes. My mother’s demeanor flipped instantly. The casual indifference vanished, replaced by a snarling ferocity. “What is wrong with you?!” she screamed. “How dare you bully your sister!” The commotion drew my father out of the master suite. He didn’t ask what happened. He just pointed a thick finger at my face and started yelling. “Is this how an older sister behaves? Have you no shame?” Three against one. A united front, circling me, tearing me down. I didn’t back up a single inch. I looked dead at them. “If there isn’t a room for me in this house,” I said, my voice eerily calm despite the blood roaring in my ears, “then you need to give me my money back. That is my money. The money I bled for.” My heart physically ached. For as long as I could remember, my only dream was to have a space with a door that locked. A space that was mine. Growing up, the four of us had practically lived on top of each other in a cramped, thin-walled apartment. There were nights I’d wake up in the dark, hearing the muffled, unmistakable sounds of my parents in the next bed over. I’d have to lie there, paralyzed, unable to turn on a light, unable to move. I had zero privacy. Every phone call, every sigh, every tear was audited by my mother, my father, or Paige. When I moved out for work, I could have afforded to rent a nice one-bedroom apartment. I could have had my privacy then. But my mother had dangled the promise of this house. So, I chose to split a single, cramped studio apartment with my friend, Natalie. We lived out of suitcases and slept on twin mattresses. I swallowed the hardship, believing—truly believing—that I was buying my way toward a permanent sanctuary. God, it’s humiliating to admit now. The day my parents told me the foundation was poured, I had been so giddy I pulled out a piece of printer paper and sketched out a floor plan. I drew where my bed would go. Where I’d put a bookshelf. I asked Natalie for decorating advice, talking about throw pillows and string lights like an absolute idiot. I had been bragging. And in the end, I wasn’t even factored into the blueprints. The tears finally spilled over, but my voice remained like iron as I laid out the math. “I have been working for six years,” I said, locking eyes with my mother. “For the first two years, I sent you fifteen hundred a month. For the last four years, I sent you twenty-four hundred a month. And when you told me the construction budget ran dry and you couldn’t afford the windows, the staircase railings, or the doors, I swallowed my pride, borrowed money from my friends, and sent you another ten thousand.” I took a breath. “One hundred and fifty-six thousand, four hundred dollars. Give it back to me.” My mother froze. She stared at me, genuinely aghast. “You’re… you’re keeping a ledger on your own mother and father?” Paige chimed in, perfectly on cue. “Gemma, how can you be so cold?” I laughed, a harsh, scraping sound. “You had the stomach to build a house with my money and not leave me a single square foot. You had the stomach to give the extra bedroom to your youngest daughter as a yoga studio. If you can do that, why the hell shouldn’t I keep a ledger?” 2. For six years, I hadn’t bought a single piece of new clothing. Everything I wore was from thrift stores or hand-me-downs from coworkers. I hadn’t gone out to a single restaurant. I hadn’t gone out for drinks. I survived because Natalie let me pay a fraction of the groceries in exchange for doing all the cooking, cleaning, and laundry for our shared studio. I had ground my monthly personal expenses down to less than a hundred dollars. And I had suffered through it willingly. Gladly. Now, looking at them, all I felt was a pure, blinding rage. Whatever my parents tried to say next, I shut it down. I only had one sentence for them: Give me my money. They cycled through weeping, screaming, and guilt-tripping. I watched them with dead eyes, turned on my heel, and went straight to a lawyer. In response, my parents blocked my number. When the lawyer sent a formal demand letter, they threw it away. “Ungrateful bitch,” they told the rest of the family. My lawyer was brutally honest with me. They were my parents. Even if a judge believed me, all my parents owned was this new property. The court wasn’t going to force a foreclosure over informal family transfers. “You’re going to have to find a way to negotiate with them,” the lawyer advised gently. But how do you negotiate with a brick wall? The three of them had completely frozen me out. So, I took the nuclear option. I went into the extended family group chat on Facebook and aired every piece of dirty laundry I had. I laid out exactly how they had bled me dry for $156,000 to build a house, only to deny me a bedroom. The truth was, the house shouldn’t have cost that much to begin with. My parents both had jobs. They had their own savings. Between my $150k and whatever Paige had supposedly contributed, they had vastly overbuilt. They had erected a McMansion just to flex on the rest of the family. I was more than happy to rip that facade to shreds. The public humiliation worked. My mother couldn’t hide behind her blocked numbers anymore. She came to the city to find me. When she showed up at my apartment door, her eyes were bloodshot, her face haggard. I was almost shocked to see her. She was a woman who rarely left our hometown, a woman terrified of navigating the city transit system. For a split second, a traitorous pang of sympathy twisted in my chest. She broke down crying in my living room. “Gemma, you have to understand… we don’t have a boy to carry on the family name.” “So?” I asked, confused. “So, your father and I… we’re setting things up so Paige’s future husband will move in with us. The house is an incentive. And those three rooms… that ‘yoga studio’ is eventually going to be a nursery…” The realization clicked into place, cold and sharp. The yoga studio was a lie. It was a placeholder for Paige’s future kids. Because Paige wasn’t just my sister. In my parents’ eyes, she was their son. She was the legacy. I stared at my mother’s mouth as it kept moving, spewing out rationalizations. She said no decent man would agree to live with his in-laws without the promise of a big, paid-off house. She talked about the shame of not having a son, of needing to secure Paige’s loyalty so they wouldn’t die alone. She said the house simply had to go to Paige. She talked for a long time. When she finally ran out of breath, I asked her one question. “Why does it have to be Paige? Why couldn’t I be the one to stay?” We were both her daughters. Why was I automatically disqualified? Why was I just the collateral damage? She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. I leaned forward. “Forget about a husband. I was planning on having a kid on my own anyway. I could go to a sperm bank, or find a guy, get what I need, and raise the kid myself. How about this? Give me Paige’s bedroom and the nursery. Let her go marry someone else. I won’t screw her over—tell me exactly how much she put into the house, and I will pay her back every cent. But the house becomes mine.” Under my unwavering stare, my mother finally cracked. Her eyes shifted away. “Your sister is… she’s just more affectionate,” she mumbled. “We want her close by.” 3. “Then you should have used your own damn money to buy her a house,” I snapped. “Why did you steal mine?” I went back to my one rule: Pay me back. I told her if she didn’t, I would drive to Paige’s office and make a scene in her lobby every single day. I wasn’t going to let my sister walk away with a hundred and fifty grand of my blood, sweat, and tears. My mother looked horrified. She begged. Then she yelled. “Just consider it a repayment for us raising you—” I cut her off. “You think you’re owed a hundred and fifty grand for how I was raised? I wore other people’s garbage. I barely had meat on my plate. I went to a bottom-tier public school, took out my own student loans, and worked three jobs just to eat in college. You took every penny I had to my name.” Anger makes you say ugly, permanent things. As I listed out every reason they were failures as parents, my mother’s hand shot out. She slapped me across the face. “You… you…” she sputtered. I didn’t flinch. I just stared at her with dead eyes. Then, I grabbed my coat, marched her down to the bus station, bought her a ticket, and forced her onto a Greyhound back to our hometown. There was no room for her in my studio. Once the bus pulled away, I called Natalie. “She’s gone. You can come back.” Natalie had been crashing on a friend’s couch to give me space to deal with the fallout. When she rushed through the door, I was in the kitchen, aggressively dumping all the “gifts” my mother had brought—jars of homemade preserves, dried mushrooms, baked goods—straight into the trash can. Natalie didn’t say a word. She just walked over and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I dropped the trash bag, buried my face in her shoulder, and finally broke down, sobbing until my throat bled. The next day, my father called. “Alright, alright, enough with the dramatics over a tiny room,” he said, using that tired, patronizing tone he always used when he thought I was being hysterical. “I talked to your sister. We’re going to knock out the walls of the extra half-bath downstairs. We’ll put down some flooring. You can use that space as your bedroom. Happy now? Making a mountain out of a molehill…” Live in a converted bathroom. And he was offering it to me like he was bestowing a royal decree. They say that when you hit absolute rock bottom, you don’t cry. You laugh. A manic, breathless laugh bubbled out of my chest. My father took my laughter as a sign of relief. “We don’t have the cash to finish it out, though,” he added quickly. “You’ll have to pay for the drywall and paint yourself.” And then he hung up. I was staring at the blank screen of my phone, thumb hovering over the redial button, when Natalie gasped. She walked over, holding out her phone, her expression a mix of pity and disgust. “Gem… you need to see this.” It was Paige’s Instagram story. She had posted two photos. One was a picture of the deed to the new house. The second was a close-up of the ownership block. It had her name on it. Sole ownership. The caption read: Owning a custom home in my twenties debt-free! Couldn’t have done it without the best parents in the world! #blessed #homeowner The house. Was already. In her name. Maybe the previous days had just broken my capacity to feel, because a strange numbness washed over me. I wasn’t even surprised. Natalie grabbed my shoulders and gave me a shake. “Gemma, wake up. Think about this. I know Paige. She’s a receptionist. Does she really look like she has the kind of money to drop twenty-four hundred a month on construction costs?” I blinked at her. “And,” Natalie continued, her voice rising, “my dad is a contractor. I saw the photos you showed me of that house. It’s a standard suburban build in a low-cost area. It didn’t cost half a million dollars. They probably built the whole thing for a fraction of what you gave them.” The math finally clicked. Paige hadn’t paid a dime. She got a brand-new house handed to her on a silver platter. And I, having bled out over a hundred and fifty grand, was being told to pay for the privilege of sleeping in a gutted downstairs toilet. And I had to wage a war just to get that. A violent tremor wracked my body. I bit down on my lower lip so hard I tasted copper. Right at that moment, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was Paige. I stared at the caller ID, my throat seizing up. “Answer…” I croaked out to Natalie. “Answer it.” Natalie swiped the screen and put it on speaker. Paige’s voice came through, shrill and venomous. “Are you out of your mind, Gemma? Have you no shame? Mom and Dad gave this house to me, and you’re throwing a tantrum trying to steal it?” I didn’t say anything. I just listened to her breathe. “I’m the one staying here to take care of them. I’m the one keeping the family together. Everything in this family belongs to me,” she sneered. “You’re lucky I didn’t ask you to buy me a car for my wedding present.” She paused, lowering her voice into a vicious hiss. “I’m warning you. If you come back here and try to take what’s mine, I will make you regret it.”

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When my husband’s star student threatened to jump from the roof for the second time, I didn’t rush forward to save her. Instead, I took a step back. I felt the cold wind whipping against the hem of my coat, a stark contrast to the heat of the panic below. Down on the pavement, my husband, Robert, looked like he’d seen a ghost. His face was a mask of primal terror as he craned his neck, screaming up at me. “Don’t you dare move back! Hannah, what are you doing? Grab her! Pull her down!” In my previous life, at this exact heartbeat of a second, I had lunged forward. I’d tried to tackle Macy before she could slip. But the moment my fingers brushed her sweater, she had twisted, her small, nimble hands finding my shoulders. She didn’t slip. She pushed. As I fell toward the asphalt, I saw her face. There was no fear. Just a slow, satisfied curve of her lips. “Hannah,” she had whispered, her voice lost to the wind but clear in my mind, “with you out of the way, I finally get what I want. I’ll take such good care of Professor Matt for you. You can die in peace.” After my death, Robert had shut himself away for three days, refusing to eat or speak. I’d spent my existence as a ghost believing he was mourning me, hoping he would find justice. Instead, he used his influence to claim she’d had a “psychotic break.” He helped Macy vanish from the police reports. A year later, they were married. My mother, broken by the loss of her only daughter, ended her own life, leaving my father to wander the streets with a protest sign, a shell of a man seeking a truth no one wanted to hear. Then, I opened my eyes. And I was back on the roof. 1 “Hannah! Did you hear me? Save her!” Robert, usually the picture of academic composure, had eyes rimmed with red. He was gasping for air, his command sharp and serrated. He didn’t care about the ledge. He didn’t care about the height. He didn’t care about me. Just like last time. After I hit the ground, I died instantly. Robert hadn’t even looked at my body. He’d hurried Macy away, shielding her from the “trauma” of the scene. Ten years of marriage. Ten years of building a life, a home, a family. I realized then that to him, my life was a bargain-bin commodity. The hatred burned through my veins, cold and electric. I gave him one look—flat and empty—and turned my back on the edge. “Hannah, please!” Macy’s voice rose in a shrill, bird-like peck. “I’m so lost. Everything hurts. Please, just help me.” Tears streamed down her face. She looked like a terrified lamb, the perfect picture of a girl pushed to the brink. Below us, the crowd of students and faculty began to roar with moral indignation. “Professor Matt’s wife, don’t leave! Talk to her!” “She’s so young! She needs you!” “She looks up to you like a big sister! You can’t just walk away!” I felt a bitter laugh bubble up in my chest. Macy wasn’t going to jump. She had spent six months stalking my life, faking “cries for help” three times already. She didn’t want to die; she wanted me to die. And these people, with their cheap sympathy and their cell phone cameras, were handing her the weapon. The tension in my body was a physical weight. My temples throbbed. “Hannah, I’m an orphan,” Macy wailed, her voice projecting perfectly for the crowd below. “You and Robert… you’re all I have. You’re like the sister I never had. I know I’m not meeting your standards, but the pressure is too much! Death is the only way out!” She was good. She’d lost her mother young, her father had skipped town, and she’d grown up in the shadow of a grandmother who collected scrap metal to pay for her books. I had started sponsoring her in middle school. In high school, I’d paid for the best tutors to get her into this elite university. But Macy was a parasite. She started with shy, blushing refusals of my help. Then came the expectations. The latest iPhone. Designer bags. Jewelry. And finally, she wanted my husband. She wanted my life. Robert’s voice broke the air again, stripped of his usual gentlemanly veneer. “Hannah! A life is on the line! I don’t care what your grievance is—save her now!” The crowd took up the chant. “Apologize to her! Don’t be the reason she jumps!” “If she falls, it’s on your hands, Hannah! You’ll never wash it off!” Macy caught my eye, a flash of triumph glinting through her tears. She dangled one foot over the edge, creating the illusion of a wobble. “Ah!” she screamed, pitching forward slightly. The collective gasp from below was deafening. I saw the lenses of a dozen phones pointed up at us. “Hannah, please,” Macy whimpered, extending a hand toward me. “My legs are numb. I’m slipping. Just grab my hand. Just one pull and I’ll come back over.” Her voice was thick with fake terror, but her eyes were wide with a predatory hunger. I knew if I moved an inch closer, she’d drag me down with her. I didn’t say a word. I turned and walked toward the rooftop exit. Behind me, I heard the heavy thud of boots—the fire department had finally arrived. Macy’s eyes widened in genuine shock. She hadn’t expected me to simply leave the stage. 2 “Hannah!” As soon as I stepped out of the building’s lobby, Robert was there. He grabbed my arm, his grip so tight I felt the bone groan. “You’re so incredibly selfish,” he hissed, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and relief. “I don’t even recognize you. I am beyond disappointed.” I looked into his eyes, searching for a trace of the man I’d loved. There was nothing but a stranger. “Then let’s get a divorce,” I said, my voice as steady as a heartbeat. Robert recoiled as if I’d slapped him. The blood drained from his face. “What the hell are you talking about? You almost let a girl die, and you have the nerve to bring up divorce?” I opened my mouth to respond, but something hard and heavy struck me in the forehead. “You mean woman! Why are you mean to Macy? I hate you! I wish you weren’t my mom!” My son, Mitch, stood there, his face contorted in a sneer. He was standing right next to his father, a united front against me, all for the sake of the girl who had just tried to kill me. Blood began to trickle down my face. Robert’s expression flickered with a brief, ugly shame, but before he could reach for me, the paramedics emerged with Macy. She was being supported by two firemen, looking frail and broken. Robert and Mitch didn’t hesitate. They didn’t even look at me. They rushed toward her. The three of them huddled together, Macy crying into Robert’s chest while Mitch clung to her hand. To any observer, they looked like a grieving family. My colleagues stood around, stunned, their eyes filled with a pity that felt like an insult. I wiped the blood from my eye, turned around, and walked to my car. I spent the afternoon at the ER, getting three stitches and calling a divorce lawyer. As I was leaving the hospital, I ran into them again. They were bringing Macy to see a psychiatrist on the fourth floor. Robert was the picture of a devoted guardian. Mitch, usually a whirlwind of restless energy, was standing quietly, listening intently to the doctor’s instructions as if his life depended on it. A sharp, familiar pain stabbed at my heart. For years, Robert had been “too busy” for us. Research, lectures, projects—he was so busy he hadn’t even made it to the hospital the day Mitch was born. I’d raised our son alone, but Mitch resented me for the rules, the structure, the parenting. He preferred Macy, who took him to arcades and let him eat junk food. When my vision cleared, Mitch was standing in front of Macy, guarding her from me with a suspicious glare. “Hey! What are you doing here?” he snapped. “You’re probably planning something mean again!” “Don’t you touch her,” he added, his voice full of a child’s cruel bravado. “If you do, I’ll make Dad leave you for real!” He smiled, knowing exactly where to twist the knife. He remembered. When Mitch was six, Robert had a brief “entanglement” with a grad student. I’d lost my mind. I’d screamed, cried, even held a knife to my own wrist in a moment of sheer, shattered desperation. Back then, Mitch had hugged my legs and cried, “Mom, don’t be scared. Even if Dad leaves, I’ll always be with you. I’ll protect you forever.” I looked at him now. He would never understand that the only reason I’d fought so hard to keep this family together was for him. I didn’t say a word. I just turned and walked away. I saw the confusion flicker in Mitch’s eyes—the realization that his threats didn’t have a target anymore. Behind him, Robert’s face darkened. For the first time in our marriage, I hadn’t even glanced at him. 3 They brought Macy home. Renting her a separate apartment wasn’t enough anymore; now, they were moving her into my sanctuary. Macy caught my cold gaze and huddled closer to Robert, her shoulders trembling with practiced fear. Mitch immediately raised his voice. “Don’t worry, Macy. Dad and I are here. No one’s kicking you out!” Robert frowned at me, his voice heavy with “academic” authority. “Macy is traumatized, Hannah. As an educator yourself, you should have the grace to show some compassion to a student.” Compassion? Or a clear path to your bed? I looked at Mitch and kept the thought to myself. “She’s twenty-two,” I said calmly. “She’s months away from graduation. I’m stopping my financial sponsorship. Today.” Over the years, between tuition, tutors, and the designer “gifts” she’d lifted from my closet, I’d spent well over three hundred thousand dollars on her. I wasn’t going to throw another cent into a black hole. Macy’s head snapped up. Her eyes went wide with genuine panic. Tears began to flow—a well-practiced reflex. “Professor Matt… Hannah… am I such a burden? Maybe I should just leave. I’ll go live on the street, it’s fine.” She made a move toward the door. Robert grabbed her arm, spinning on me with a snarl. “Hannah, what is wrong with you? We aren’t hurting for money! She’s sick, and you’re being a monster!” Mitch lunged at me, his small fists thumping against my thighs. “Mean woman! Bad woman! Get out! This isn’t your house!” I stood there, numb, watching the son I nearly died to bring into this world treat me like an intruder. My heart didn’t break; it turned to ash. “Mitch, stop it. That’s your mother!” Robert pulled the boy back, but his eyes stayed on me, devoid of warmth. “If you can’t handle this, maybe you should go stay somewhere else for a few days. Until you’ve regained your senses.” The silence that followed was chilling. We had built this life together. Back when Robert’s stipend was barely enough for groceries, I was the one working double shifts at the learning center. I took the difficult classes no other teacher wanted just to afford the down payment on this house. Back then, Robert used to worry about me. He’d turn off my alarms and beg me to sleep. “Hannah, a house isn’t worth your health,” he’d say. Now, he was kicking me out of the home I’d paid for to make room for his mistress-in-waiting. It was perfect. Macy stood behind them, her arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. Her eyes said everything: Husband? Son? They’re mine now. You’re nothing. I didn’t argue. I didn’t tell her that this house was bought in my name before the marriage. I didn’t tell her that when the divorce finalized, they would be the ones on the street. I needed to leave so the security cameras could record exactly what happened when I wasn’t there. “Hannah,” Robert called out as I reached for my keys. “Your mother’s care… I’m still paying for the private facility and the advanced equipment. If you want her to stay comfortable, you’ll start acting like a wife again.” I froze. I turned slowly to look at him. My mother had late-stage ALS. She was on a ventilator. Robert’s brother sat on the board of the best private hospital in the state. He was using my dying mother as a hostage. I walked back across the room and slapped him so hard my palm went numb. Macy shrieked and tried to lung at me, but Robert, surprisingly, held her back. He just stared at me, his jaw tight. I walked out the door. For the next week, I stayed at the hospital with my mother. I watched the footage from my home security app. Macy had fully moved in. She was cooking in my kitchen, wearing my robes. She even slipped into the master bedroom late at night. I watched Mitch eat greasy takeout—the kind of food his sensitive stomach couldn’t handle, the kind I’d spent years carefully avoiding. He looked at the camera and shouted, “Macy, I wish you were my real mom!” I didn’t call. I didn’t text. Two weeks later, Robert messaged me: “You can come home now. This is getting ridiculous.” I ignored it. The next day: “I sent Macy back to the dorms. Come back. The house is a mess and Mitch needs you.” I still didn’t reply. 4 That afternoon, Macy burst into my office at the university. She looked like she’d been through a thresher—bruises on her arms, hair disheveled. She collapsed onto her knees in front of my desk. “Hannah, please! Please let me go!” Before I could breathe, a man stormed in after her. My stomach dropped. It was Greg Scott—a guy from Macy’s hometown, a known lowlife who had stalked her years ago. I’d paid for her legal fees to get a restraining order against him back in the day. How was he here? Robert followed right behind him. Macy scrambled into Robert’s arms, sobbing hysterically. “Robert, save me! Hannah… she told Greg where I was! She’s trying to sell me to him! He’s a monster!” Macy’s lip was bleeding. Her shirt was torn at the collar. She looked like a victim. Robert’s face turned a terrifying shade of purple. He glared at me and then at Greg. Greg, playing his part perfectly, looked at me with a sleazy grin. “Thanks for the tip, Mrs. Matt. And for the cash. I’ll take her off your hands now.” “What are you talking about?” I stood up, my heart hammering. Greg didn’t answer. He lunged for Macy. “Your grandpa sold you to my family years ago, girl! We let you finish school, but it’s time to come home and start having babies!” He grabbed her arm. Robert didn’t hesitate. He threw a haymaker that caught Greg right in the temple. Greg hit the floor, scrambled up, and ran out of the office, howling in pain. It was a farce. A cheap, poorly acted play. But Robert was fully immersed. He turned on me, his eyes glowing with a dark, predatory light. He pinned me against my desk, his fingers digging into my shoulders. “Get on your knees,” he rasped. “Apologize to her. Now.” The pain in my arms was excruciating. “They’re lying, Robert! Use your brain! Why would I ever contact that man?” His grip tightened. He looked like he was on the verge of snapping. But then Macy began to slap herself across the face. “It’s my fault!” she wailed. “I thought you loved me like a sister, Hannah! Why do you keep trying to destroy me? Do you want me to just die?” “THEN DIE!” I screamed, the frustration finally boiling over. Robert threw me to the ground. He looked at me with utter loathing. “I am so done with you, Hannah. You want to play hardball? Fine.” He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. My blood ran cold. “What are you doing?” “Is this Director Sterling at the hospital? Yeah. Pull the ventilator in Room 436. Now.” “NO!” I scrambled toward him, clawing at his legs. “Robert, please! You’ll kill her! Don’t do this!” He kicked my hand away, his voice devoid of any humanity. “Kneel. Apologize to Macy. Maybe I’ll call them back.” My brain felt like it was being split by a chisel. The world blurred. I stood up, a ghost in my own body, and walked over to Macy. She looked up at me, a tiny, sickening smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. I dropped to my knees. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, each word tasting like ash. “It’s all my fault.” Macy reached out, pretending to be the bigger person, and pulled me into a hug. “I forgive you, Hannah,” she whispered into my ear, her voice a venomous hiss. “But you should probably get to the hospital. If you run, you might catch her before the lights go out.” I shoved her away. She fell back with a cry of “pain,” but I was already out the door. “Hannah! Running won’t save you!” Robert yelled after me. I drove like a maniac, my vision tunneled. I reached the hospital ten minutes later, drenched in sweat. As I reached the hallway of the intensive care unit, the doors to Room 436 opened. A nurse was slowly wheeling out a gurney covered in a white sheet. The world went black. I stumbled forward, my legs giving out. I reached out and pulled back the sheet. A scream ripped from my throat, raw and jagged, echoing through the sterile halls. “MAMA!” At that exact moment, across town, Robert’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at his phone, a strange sense of dread pooling in his stomach. Before he could call Hannah, he got a call from the hospital director. “Mr. Matt? I’m calling about Hannah’s mother. The body is being moved. Do you have instructions for the morgue?” The world tilted. Robert’s breath hitched. But I never actually got through to the director earlier… the call hadn’t connected. How was she dead?

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