Category: English

I was the only nepotism hire in my mother’s department, but I wasn’t there to be pampered. I was the target she used to sharpen her reputation. To prove to the firm that she was beyond reproach, she turned me into a martyr for her ambition. When others left at five, I stayed until midnight. When the team had weekends off, I pulled all-nighters. When I told her my chest felt like it was being crushed by a vice, she tore me down in front of the entire open-plan office. “If you want to be lazy, just say it, Cassie! Don’t use your health as a shield. You’re an embarrassment to my name!” On the morning of my thirty-second birthday, after seven straight days of graveyard shifts, my heart simply stopped. I collapsed at my desk, my face hitting the keyboard. When the paramedics wheeled me out, she didn’t even look up from her monitor. She thought I was staging a scene for sympathy. She even posted in the department’s Slack channel: “Stop the theatrics. Get back here and finish the migration. These four projects go live tonight, no exceptions.” Eight hours after the coroner officially declared me dead, Katherine—my mother, the Senior VP—was still trying to avoid any appearance of favoritism. She added me to a new project group and sent three rapid-fire voice notes: “How long are you going to milk this? If you’re not actually in a casket, get your ass back to work! Don’t make us a laughingstock in front of the partners!” But Mom, I can’t come back. 1 I’m hovering in the stale air of the office, watching her. No—at the office, I’m not allowed to call her Mom. I have to call her Ms. Bishop. “Ms. Bishop, about Cassie…” Becca, the intern, starts typing in the group chat, but she’s cut off before she can finish. An image notification pings on everyone’s phone. It’s a disciplinary notice. My name is right there at the top: Cassandra Bishop. Violation: Unexcused absence. Penalty: Forfeiture of monthly bonus and performance pay. Formal reprimand issued. “Let this be a lesson,” Katherine’s voice rings out through a new voice note. “In my department, nobody gets special treatment. I don’t care who you are. Disappearing to avoid a deadline is a breach of discipline I will not tolerate. This entitlement ends now.” A waterfall of “Understood, Ms. Bishop” responses floods the screen. Watching that notice, I almost want to laugh. Mom, I’m dead. How are you going to garnish the wages of a ghost? I drift over to my cubicle. It’s a graveyard of my last week alive—empty espresso cans, crumpled sugar-free Red Bull tins, and stacks of data sheets. “Maintenance, clear this trash out,” Katherine says, stepping out of her glass-walled office. She points a manicured finger at my desk. “It looks like a pigsty. It’s ruining the aesthetic of the floor. Throw it all away.” The cleaning lady hesitates, clutching her heavy-duty trash bag. “Ms. Bishop, these are Cassie’s personal things. Maybe we should box them up for her…” “Throw. It. Away!” Katherine snaps. “If she wants to walk out on this team, she can find her desk in the dumpster. Deactivate her keycard and lock her out of every server. I need her to realize the world doesn’t stop turning just because she has a tantrum.” The woman doesn’t argue again. She begins sweeping my life into a black plastic bag. My lumbar pillow—a birthday gift I bought for myself last year. My bottles of aspirin and the heart medication I was never supposed to skip. And then, there’s the photo in the corner. The only photo of the two of us. Clink. The frame hits the bottom of the bag, and the sound of shattering glass echoes through the quiet office. I reach out instinctively, trying to catch it, but my fingers pass through the plastic, through the air, through nothing. Is this what being dead is? The ultimate powerlessness? Katherine stands there, arms crossed, watching them erase me. She pulls out her phone, snaps a photo of the empty desk, and posts it to her LinkedIn. The caption reads: “Leadership requires hard choices. Even family must be held to the highest standard. To succeed in this industry, you have to kill the ‘delicate’ instinct. My conscience is clear.” In less than a minute, the likes and sycophantic comments start rolling in. “A true leader!” “Total boss move, Katherine. Cassie needed this wake-up call.” I float behind her, reading the screen. My heart doesn’t hurt anymore. I suppose that’s the one perk of it not beating. You got what you wanted, Mom. You proved you’re untouchable. You finally won. 2 8:00 PM. The project went live exactly on schedule, just hours after my body was moved to the morgue. The data was clean, the servers were humming—the result of my seven days of sleeplessness. Zero bugs. To celebrate, Katherine took the entire senior team to an upscale steakhouse downtown. The private room is glowing with warm light, the smell of expensive Cabernet and aged ribeye filling the air. “A toast to Katherine!” Robert, the assistant manager, raises his glass. “The launch was flawless. Your direction in the final stretch was masterclass.” Katherine, looking sharp in her charcoal blazer, her cheeks slightly flushed from the wine, smiles and waves him off. “It was a team effort. Mostly.” She takes a sip. “Unlike some people who flake when the pressure gets real. I had to monitor the final nodes myself.” The table erupts in polite, knowing chuckles. “Cassie’s always been a bit… coddled,” Robert adds, eager to please. “She seemed reliable, but I guess she just lacks that grit. You’re doing her a favor by being tough, Katherine. She’ll thank you one day.” “If she has the brains to understand it,” Katherine says, setting her glass down with a sharp thud. “Young people today… they have no stamina. Physical or mental. When I was pregnant with her, I was on job sites in the middle of July. I didn’t take a single day off. She catches a cold and thinks the world owes her a sabbatical.” I’m perched on the chandelier, looking down at her. Mom, you were tough. I know. But you forgot that I inherited your stubbornness. If I hadn’t been fading into a blur of gray pain, do you really think I would have let myself fall before the finish line? Suddenly, her phone vibrates in her Chanel bag. She pulls it out, glancing at the screen. It’s a local landline. Maybe it’s the wine, or maybe she just wants to show off how “on call” she is, but she hits speaker and drops the phone on the white tablecloth. “Katherine Bishop,” she says regally. “Hello, is this the next of kin for Cassandra Bishop? This is the administrator at the County Morgue…” Katherine freezes for a split second, then lets out a harsh, mocking laugh. “The morgue? Really? Is that the best you can do? Scammers are getting creative these days, using death threats to get a call back.” The voice on the other end hesitates. “Ma’am, I’m serious. The deceased was brought in this afternoon at—” “Enough!” Katherine barks. “My daughter is hiding at home pretending to be sick. If she thinks she can use a prank call to make me back down, tell her it’s not working. In fact, tell her she’s fired.” She hangs up and immediately blocks the number. “Disgusting,” she says, draining her glass in one go. “The girl is becoming unhinged. Hiring someone to play a coroner just to scare me? It’s pathetic.” “Unbelievable,” a colleague chimes in. “That’s a new low. Don’t let it ruin the night, Katherine. You’ve earned this.” The room settles back into its rhythm of clinking silverware and laughter. They talk about bonuses and Q4 projections while eating lobster tail and drinking fifty-dollar pours of bourbon. And my body is lying in a steel drawer, waiting for a mother who isn’t coming. As the dinner ends, Katherine looks at the leftover risotto on her plate. On her way out, she spots a stray dog near the valet stand. She tips the container of expensive food into the dirt for the dog. “Go on,” she says, patting the dog’s head with a rare, soft smile. “At least a dog knows how to show a little gratitude. Sometimes, children aren’t worth the investment.” 3 When Katherine opens the front door, the house is a tomb. Pitch black. Usually, no matter how late she stayed out, I’d leave a lamp on. I’d have a pot of tea or some ginger soup waiting to help her settle. But tonight, there is only the hum of the refrigerator. The silence grates on her nerves. She tosses her bag onto the leather sofa and shouts into the darkness. “Cassie! Where the hell are you? You see me walk in and you can’t even get me a glass of water?” Only the ticking of the grandfather clock answers her. “Fine. You want to play the silent treatment? Let’s play.” She storms down the hallway to my room and kicks the door open. “Stop acting like a martyr! Get up!” The room is empty. The bed is made with military precision—the way I left it a week ago before the crunch started. The desk, however, is a mess of protein bar wrappers and empty Keurig pods. Katherine scoffs. “A pigsty. Absolutely disgusting. No wonder you’re still single.” She starts swiping the clutter off the desk in a fit of pique, but her hand stops. Tucked between a stack of invoices is a small, elegantly wrapped box with a sticky note on top. Mom, Happy Birthday. I bought this with the bonus from my first solo project. It’s that silk scarf you’ve been eyeing. Don’t work too hard. Take care of yourself. Today was my birthday. It was also the day I died. I knew she wouldn’t remember the date—she only remembered it as “Launch Day.” I had planned to bring the gift home, cook her dinner, and tell her… I was quitting. Katherine picks up the box and tears the paper. A beautiful, peony-patterned silk scarf slides out. For a second, her expression falters. But then the fire returns. “You have money for this trash, but you can’t put your head down and work?” She throws the scarf onto the floor and grinds her heel into the silk. “You think a gift buys my forgiveness for walking out? Dream on, Cassie. I’m not that easy.” She pulls out her phone, takes a photo of the soiled scarf on the floor, and sends it to my WhatsApp. Then, she records a long, biting voice note. “I don’t want your fake sentiment. If you aren’t in that office at 8:00 AM sharp tomorrow, don’t bother coming back ever. You’re done.” Still fuming, she starts rifling through my drawers. “I know you’re hiding somewhere. Where are the keys to the lake house?” She pulls out a crumpled piece of paper buried at the bottom. It’s a medical report from six months ago. She skims it, her eyes landing on the summary. Severe arrhythmia. Myocardial ischemia. Immediate hospitalization recommended. Avoid high-stress environments and physical exhaustion. I remember showing her that report. I wanted to take a week off for follow-up tests. She was on a conference call at the time and barely glanced at it. “Doctors just say that stuff to bill the insurance,” she’d said then. “You’re thirty. You don’t have a heart condition; you have a laziness condition. If that proposal isn’t done by morning, you’re sleeping at the office.” Katherine looks at the report now and let’s out a cold snort. “Still using this fake note?” She tears the paper in half, crumbles it into a ball, and chucks it at the bin. “Six months and you’re still clinging to the same excuse. Get a new script, Cassie.” She sits on the edge of my bed, breathing hard, her chest heaving with indignation. Suddenly, a muffled buzzing comes from her bag. She frowns, reaches in, and pulls out my iPad. The admin had found it at my desk and tucked it into Katherine’s bag before she left. The screen is glowing with a recurring alarm: 11:55 PM — Heat up milk for Mom. Katherine’s finger trembles slightly as she looks at the notification. She swipes to unlock it. There’s no passcode. The code has always been her birthday. The screen opens to a draft message in our chat. 4 The draft is only one line. No excuses. No pleading. No anger. It just says: Mom, it really, really hurts. Can I just sleep for a little while this time? Just a little while… The words pierce her, but she shoves the feeling down. “Hurts too much to work, but not too much to text?” She stares at the screen, her eyes rimmed with red, her teeth clenched. “Even your messages are designed to make me feel guilty. You’re pathetic, Cassie.” She tosses the iPad onto the bed and walks out, slamming the door. “Fine. Stay gone. Die for all I care. At least I’d finally have some peace.” She shuts her own door. I float by the bedside, watching the screen of the iPad slowly dim and go black. You win, Mom. I’m finally sleeping. And this time, I won’t wake up to your shouting. The next morning, the sun is barely up when Katherine’s phone explodes. As a VP, she’s used to being reachable 24/7, but this isn’t a client. It’s the Head of HR. “Katherine… check the company-wide Slack. Now.” The man’s voice is shaking. “Something has happened. Something terrible.” Katherine rubs her temples, clicking into the app. The “General” channel, which has five hundred employees, is moving so fast the messages are a blur. At the top of the feed is a leaked image. It’s a morgue intake form. Name: Cassandra Bishop. Age: 32. Time of Intake: Yesterday, 4:30 PM. Cause of Death: Sudden Cardiac Arrest. The silence in the chat is deafening, followed by a volcanic eruption of messages. “Oh my god, she was actually…” “Katherine was screaming at her in the chat while she was in a body bag.” “This is horrific. She worked herself to death.” Katherine stares at the image for five full minutes. Her hand begins to shake—not with grief, but with a blind, incandescent rage. “Good… very clever, Cassie.” She draws a jagged breath, a cold smirk touching her lips. “Special effects? Makeup? You’re really going this far to humiliate me?” She can’t believe it. Or rather, her ego won’t let her. If this is real, she’s a monster. Therefore, it cannot be real. She records a voice note for the entire five hundred-person group. “Everyone stop! This is a hoax. This is a malicious prank by Cassandra to avoid her responsibilities and sabotage this firm. I am going to the morgue right now to expose this lie!” She doesn’t even wash her face. She grabs her keys and bolts. On the way, she calls the HR manager. “Meet me there. Bring the termination papers. I’m firing that girl to her face!” Her car screams down the highway. I sit in the passenger seat, watching her white-knuckled grip on the wheel. Mom, slow down. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right there waiting for you. The lobby of the funeral home is hushed, the air smelling of lilies and floor wax. Katherine’s heels clack aggressively against the marble. She storms up to the desk and slams her ID down. “Bring Cassandra Bishop out here!” she demands. “Stop the play-acting! I know this is a setup. Tell her to get out here right now!” The young woman behind the desk looks up, startled, then her expression shifts to one of profound pity and horror. “Ma’am, please keep your voice down. Ms. Bishop was brought in yesterday. We’ve been trying to reach you…” “The body?” Katherine sneers. “Sure. Let’s see it. I want to see exactly how much she spent on a prosthetic corpse.” The HR manager arrives, looking like he wants to melt into the floor. Even he is starting to doubt Katherine’s “prank” theory. The attendant sighs, realizes there’s no arguing with a woman in this state, and leads them back. The hallway is long and frigid. Katherine walks fast, her chin high, a mocking smile plastered on her face. “Keep it up, Cassie. I’m almost impressed. Let’s see the grand finale…” “We’re here.” The attendant stops at a heavy stainless steel door. He hits a switch. The cold hits like a physical wall. Rows of steel drawers line the room. He checks a tag and pulls a handle. Rumble. The drawer slides out. A draped white sheet covers a human form. It is perfectly still. No rise and fall of a chest. Katherine’s lip twitches, but she holds the mask. She steps forward, her finger hovering inches from the sheet before she stops. Her eyes lock onto a hand peeking out from under the fabric. The hand is blue-grey, bloodless. On the wrist is a cheap, red woven string bracelet. It was a freebie from a mall kiosk years ago. Katherine had tossed it at me during a shopping trip because she didn’t want it. She’d said, “Here, take this junk. Maybe it’ll keep you from being so clumsy.” I’d worn it for three years. Katherine’s pupils contract. “Get… get up.” Her voice is a thin, rattling thread. Her body begins to vibrate. “Stop it, Cassie. I’m not mad anymore. Just get up.” Silence, save for the hum of the refrigeration units. “I told you to get up!” She grabs the corner of the sheet and rips it back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “414023”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the night of my eighteenth birthday gala, I was drugged. In a haze of heat and confusion, I pulled my bodyguard of eight years, Carl Vaughn, into my bed. I had never seen him as just a bodyguard. We knew each other’s souls. I was only waiting to become a legal adult so I could finally confess our love to my parents. But the next morning, the number one trending topic on the internet was a six-hour, unedited, high-definition video of us in that bed. I thought a corporate rival had framed us. That was, until I overheard him on the phone with a friend: “My sister went to work for their family, and they drove her to her death. Eight years she’s been missing. I just recorded a little video. Honestly, I think I went too easy on them.” There were no corporate rivals. It was all him. It was all revenge. My father, blindingly furious, lunged to strike him. Carl simply kicked him away. My father hit his head against the marble floor and slipped into a permanent coma. The Astor family empire collapsed, buried under tens of millions in debt. My mother worked herself to the bone, juggling jobs until she collapsed and died of exhaustion on a rainy night. To pay for my father’s life support, I sold myself to an underground syndicate compound in Central America. Two years later, I connected with Carl on a video call. He recognized my voice instantly. A cruel scoff filtered through the speaker. “Well, look at the little Astor heiress, running scams now?” “I can give you your sales quota,” he purred. “Let’s see if you can swallow it. Now, take your clothes off.” … 1 “Take them off. What, are you feeling shy now?” The video feed snapped into focus. Carl’s devastatingly familiar face filled the screen, twisted into a mocking sneer. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, using the metallic taste of blood to force the suffocating ache back down into my chest. When I lifted my eyes again, the mask was perfectly in place. I offered him a practiced, sultry smile. “Where would the boss like me to start?” I hooked a finger under my strap, sliding it agonizingly slow down my shoulder. Then, I stood up, angling myself toward the webcam, and began to pull the hem of my silk dress upward. Pale thighs and the curve of my chest were practically spilling into the frame. Just as my fingers moved to drag the neckline lower— “Enough!” The vein at Carl’s temple throbbed. His voice cracked like a whip. “Bonnie Astor, is this how you usually close your deals? Stripping for men online?” “Do you have a single shred of human dignity left in you? You make me sick.” His words were jagged glass, twisting directly into my heart. My eyes burned with a sudden, acidic sting. When you’re starving and fighting just to draw your next breath… what the hell is dignity? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I leaned closer to the lens, letting my voice drop to a husky whisper. “Is the boss not satisfied? Or were you hoping for something a little more… hardcore—” The screen went black. He hung up. A second later, my phone pinged. A wire transfer notification. Fifty thousand dollars. Attached was a single message: Even talking to you makes me feel dirty. The last thread of adrenaline snapped. I collapsed onto the concrete floor, the cold seeping into my bones. Three years ago, this was the man who knelt beside my legs, looking up at me like I was the only star in his sky. “You are the brightest, most untouchable thing I’ve ever seen,” he had whispered, his hands trembling as he held mine. “Please don’t ever leave me behind. Okay?” But in the end, the hands that pushed me into the dirt, the voice that called me filthy… belonged to him. I took a shaky breath, pulling myself up to hand the transfer confirmation to the floor supervisor. This fifty grand was my quota for the day. It bought me a twenty-four-hour reprieve from the cattle prods and the beatings. More importantly, it covered another month of my father’s life support. The supervisor’s face split into a greasy grin. He shoved me toward the locker room. “We’ve got VIPs hitting the casino floor tonight. You’ve been hitting your numbers lately, so I’m giving you a shot at the high-roller table.” He grabbed my chin, his grip bruising. “Don’t screw this up, Bonnie. Or your old man’s plug gets pulled.” I nodded frantically. I remembered the day the debt collectors breached the nursing home back in the States. They had nearly beaten me to death right there in the sterile hallway. They had their hands on my father’s oxygen tube. It was this supervisor who had stopped them. “Come work for us,” he had offered. “What you earn pays off the debt, and keeps the machine breathing for your daddy.” I said yes. I would do anything to survive. In the locker room, I expertly applied heavy concealer over the fresh, angry welts and the burn marks from the stun guns. When I stepped onto the plush carpet of the VIP room, my breath caught. Carl was sitting dead center at the baccarat table. He was in a bespoke charcoal suit, radiating an untouchable, arrogant wealth that was even more suffocating in person than on a screen. “Gentlemen, this is our dealer for the evening, Bonnie.” The supervisor bowed obsequiously. The men at the table looked me up and down, their eyes leaving a trail of slime over my skin. Someone let out a low whistle. “Goddamn. She’s a live wire.” “With a dealer looking like that, I don’t even care if I lose.” Their leering gazes stuck to me like venom. I forced my lips into a breathtaking curve, slipping smoothly into the empty chair beside them. Beneath the table, I let my knee brush lightly against the leg of the man to my right. “With me here, I promise the bosses will only have a winning streak,” I purred. The man practically melted. He pulled a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills and shoved them directly into the cleavage of my uniform. I giggled, thanking him sweetly as I tucked the cash deeper against my skin. Carl let out a dark, hollow laugh. When I looked up, his eyes were burning with a terrifying, destructive fire. “Has this dealer been washed?” he demanded, his voice dropping the temperature in the room. The supervisor froze. “Uh… well, of course, Mr. Vaughn. All our girls are impeccably clean.” Carl stood up slowly, towering over the table, his gaze pinning me to my seat. “Tell us, Bonnie. Are you clean?” The other men exchanged bewildered looks, unsure why the billionaire was suddenly turning the room into an interrogation chamber. His relentless, suffocating pressure made my chest physically ache. When I didn’t answer, a cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Actually, I heard the little Astor heiress was starring in amateur porn before she was even legally allowed to drink.” Carl leaned forward, bracing his hands on the velvet table. “Six hours. High-def. Uncensored. Seems she likes to play rough.” Recognition dawned on one of the other men. “Holy shit, no wonder she looked familiar! That’s the Astor girl. The one whose sex tape leaked at her debutante ball and sent her parents to an early grave.” The man turned to the supervisor, his eyes turning predatory. “Hey, if she’s that kind of trash, she’s not just here to deal cards, right? How about…” The implication hung heavy and vile in the air. Under the table, Carl’s polished leather shoe hooked the hem of my skirt, dragging it up an inch. “Since you’re already this filthy,” Carl whispered, his voice dripping with venom, “why are you still wearing clothes? Didn’t you hear what the bosses want? Do your job, sweetheart.” 2 The way Carl looked at me… it was as if he were scraping dog shit off his shoe. But he wasn’t always like this. I was ten years old when eighteen-year-old Carl Vaughn first stepped in front of me. He had dropped to one knee, looking at me with absolute reverence. “Miss Astor, from today onward, your safety is my life. As long as I am breathing, no one in this world will ever harm a hair on your head.” For the next eight years, he was a man of his word. He absorbed the blows of the world so I wouldn’t have to. Every time I stumbled, his strong arms were there, catching me before I ever hit the ground. “Careful, Bonnie.” He was always my shadow, indulging my every reckless whim with a quiet, devastating fondness. When I wanted to climb the ancient oak tree on the estate, he laced his hands together and offered his shoulders as my stepping stone. When I wanted to watch the Fourth of July fireworks over the bay, he smuggled me out past the security gates at midnight, hoisting me onto his shoulders so I had the best view in the world. Whenever I cheered in delight, a rare, beautiful smile would break across his face. “Let’s keep this our little secret from your father, okay?” Even the time an unhinged rival tried to kidnap me, Carl literally tore through them. Bleeding, battered, he carried me out of that warehouse without letting a single drop of my blood spill. I had cried, reaching out with my small, trembling hands to wipe the blood from his cheek. But Carl caught my wrists. His grip was fiercely protective, yet painfully restrained. “I’ll get you dirty. Don’t touch me.” My heart had seized in my chest. It pounded like a war drum. I had grabbed him by the lapels of his ruined suit and kissed him. “You’re not dirty. You’re never dirty to me…” Tears mixed with the copper taste of his blood. That was my eighteenth-year awakening. The name Carl Vaughn had been the absolute center of my entire adolescence. “Strip. What are you waiting for?” Carl’s voice snapped me back to the nightmare. “You want money?” He grabbed a handful of heavy casino chips and hurled them violently into my face. Clack. The sharp plastic hit my cheekbone like a slap. “Is that enough?” he sneered. I blinked, forcing myself back into my shell. I stretched my lips into a sickeningly sweet smile. “More than enough. Thank you so much, Mr. Vaughn~” “I promise to take very, very good care of you gentlemen tonight.” I dropped to my knees, crawling over the carpet to gather the scattered chips, deliberately tucking them into the lace tops of my thigh-high stockings. Then, I slipped the straps of my dress off my shoulders. The heavy air-conditioning of the casino hit my bare skin, making my teeth chatter, though whether from the cold or the terror, I couldn’t tell. I didn’t dare look into his eyes. I couldn’t bear to confirm the absolute disgust I knew was swimming in them. “Ooh, the little rich girl wears some naughty lingerie,” one of the men laughed, his eyes roaming over me like a starving wolf. They looked to Carl. “Hey, Mr. Vaughn, if you aren’t interested in partaking…” Carl took a slow sip of his bourbon. A violent storm was brewing in his dark eyes, but his voice was terrifyingly flat. “Do whatever you want. I have no interest in riding the town bicycle.” The town bicycle. I forced a laugh, my fingernails biting so hard into my palms they drew blood. I was suffocating on my own tears. The humiliation was a physical weight crushing my throat, but I kept the smile plastered on my face. “Well, practice makes perfect, right? I know all the tricks…” The game resumed. As the men drew their cards, their hands constantly wandered beneath the table. My stockings were torn. The fabric of my corset was pulled and stretched until the seams popped. Carl sat at the head of the table the entire night. He didn’t say a single word. By the time the game ended, my skin was mottled with purple bruises, pinch marks, and bites. I swallowed the agony, kneeling on the floor to gather the crumpled bills and fallen chips. “You are truly pathetic, Bonnie.” Carl watched me, a humorless, tight smile on his face. “Do you really love money this much?” I didn’t hesitate. I nodded. Money was oxygen for my father. Money could buy a headstone for my mother. “Fine.” He ground the word out through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing red. “Since you love money so damn much, I’m going to give you the ultimate opportunity to make it.” 3 Carl paid off my remaining debt to the syndicate. He dragged me out of the compound and flew us to an elite resort on the coast of Belize. When he burst into my hotel room, I hadn’t even finished changing. His eyes locked onto the angry red and purple marks littering my body. His brow furrowed deeply. “How did you get these?” Before I could formulate a lie, his gaze dropped to the open suitcase on the bed, spilling over with cheap, scandalous lingerie. He let out a dark, cynical laugh. “Right. In your line of work, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by a few battle scars.” It felt as though someone was systematically driving long needles into my chest. The pain was quiet, but infinite. I didn’t argue. Instead, I walked over to him, lightly draping my arms around his neck. “And what about you? Sneaking into my room at this hour… are you looking for—” I leaned in to whisper against his ear, but before I could finish, he shoved me backward. The veins in his neck popped. A dark flush spread from his collar to his jaw—whether from rage or something else, I couldn’t tell. “Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” Even though I had spent years getting used to this version of him, the words still made my heart bleed. “Be in the lobby in thirty minutes.” “Five clients. As long as you keep them happy, they’re paying three million a head.” With that, he threw his suit jacket at me and walked out without looking back. Five men. Fifteen million dollars. That was more than enough to clear the lingering debts back home. I could finally go back to my father. A few minutes later, a hotel attendant knocked, handing me a small tube of scar-fading ointment. “Mr. Vaughn sent this.” I stared at the half-used tube of ointment, my mind going entirely blank. Back in the day, Carl wasn’t just my shadow. My father often sent him on dangerous acquisition and security missions. He frequently returned bruised, battered, and bleeding. He had a jagged knife scar running from his abdomen all the way up to his chest. I had spent an exorbitant amount of my allowance at a private auction to buy a medically advanced scar-fading serum. But when I gave it to him, he just smiled gently. “Miss Astor, you shouldn’t waste this kind of money on a servant like me.” I had refused to listen. I clamped one hand over his mouth and stubbornly applied the ointment to his chest with the other. The tube the attendant just handed me… was the exact same tube from years ago. Why did he still have it? Before I could unravel the knot in my stomach, the thirty minutes were up. When I stepped into the dim, velvet-draped lobby, several men wearing Venetian masks turned to stare at me with hungry eyes. “Carl, my man, thanks for taking care of our wives tonight.” “Your little girlfriend looks like a wildcat. First time at a swingers club, huh?” Carl was leaning back on a leather sofa, two half-naked women draped over him. He smirked over the rim of his glass. “Who knows how many times she’s done this.” A bomb went off in my skull. The ringing was deafening. I thought he wanted me to pour drinks. Or deal cards. I never, in my darkest nightmares, imagined he brought me here to trade me at an underground swingers club. The sheer humiliation and betrayal crashed over me like a tidal wave. It was the middle of summer in the tropics, but I was shivering violently. He looked up at me lazily. “What? Are you backing out?” He raised three fingers. Three million. That money was the only rope that could pull me out of the abyss I’d been drowning in for years. I bit my tongue until I tasted copper, forcing my trembling limbs into submission. “Why would I back out? It’s my absolute honor to serve these gentlemen.” Carl’s face instantly darkened into a thunderous scowl. He sat there, perfectly still, watching me pour their drinks. Watching me feed them fruit from the platter. Suddenly, one of the masked men yanked me up by my arm. “I can’t wait anymore. I’m taking her up to the room!” He scooped me up over his shoulder and marched toward the elevators. Instinct took over, and I thrashed against him. Smack. He backhanded me across the face so hard my vision blurred. “Shut the fuck up. Vaughn literally handed you over, why are you playing the virgin?” My ears were screaming. I opened my mouth, silently mouthing Carl’s name. But from the moment I was carried away, Carl never once looked in my direction. The heavy oak door slammed shut. I was thrown violently onto the mattress. The stench of the man’s cologne and sweat made my stomach heave. Carl always smelled like crisp cedarwood and snow. Whenever he came back from a mission, he brought me something. Sometimes it was a necklace he bought with his entire month’s salary. Sometimes it was just a perfectly preserved autumn leaf he found on the road. But now, I had nothing. Riiiiiiip. The sound of my dress tearing filled the quiet room. Pure, unadulterated terror seized my throat. I clenched my fists around the tiny tube of scar ointment and squeezed my eyes shut. Just endure it. Endure it, and it will be over. As long as Dad gets his medicine. As long as he lives. Nothing else matters. … Down in the lobby. Carl downed glass after glass of amber liquor. But the burning in his throat did nothing to quell the vicious, clawing anxiety tearing at his chest. “What’s wrong, Carl? Getting possessive over your little toy?” One of the women traced a manicured finger down his chest. He shoved her off with brutal force. “Possessive? Over her? You could hand her to me on a silver platter and I’d still throw up.” But the moment he heard Bonnie’s muffled, agonizing scream echo down the hallway… His knuckles turned bone-white around his glass. He told himself this was justice. This was payback for what the Astors did to his sister. To his family. He was right. But he realized, with a sickening drop in his stomach, that he simply could not endure the sound of Bonnie breaking. He surged to his feet, storming out to the hotel terrace to light a cigarette. The lighter had barely flared when a voice cut through the humid night air. “Carl?!” He froze. When he turned around and saw the face of Michelle Vaughn standing under the patio lights, his entire universe short-circuited. “Maddie…” Michelle’s eyes were red. She offered him a trembling smile. “It really is you… God, look how much you’ve grown, Carl.” “Carl, back then… it was such an emergency. I had to flee the country with my husband. We didn’t even have time to contact you, I’m so sorry.” “But we’ve been living a good life overseas! Look, this is my son, Sammy.” She gently pushed a twelve-year-old boy forward. “Sammy, say hi to your Uncle Carl.” The boy politely mumbled a greeting. Carl stood there, paralyzed, the cigarette dropping from his numb fingers. “Wait. So… all these years. You’ve been perfectly fine?” Michelle looked confused. “Of course? Why wouldn’t I be?” Her casual, innocent confusion drove a spike directly into his brain. Then what the hell was my revenge for? The leaked tape. The ruin. The absolute hell I dragged Bonnie into… what was it all for?! The color drained entirely from Carl’s face, leaving him looking like a corpse. Like a madman, he shoved past them, sprinting back into the hotel, tearing down the hallway until he reached the heavy oak door. He raised his leg and kicked the door right off its hinges. “Bonnie!”

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My boyfriend Robertson has an annual salary of $500,000. He said once he saved up $200,000, he’d marry me. But I waited from age 25 to 33, and he still hadn’t saved enough. The first year, he said he’d just started working and expenses were high, so he couldn’t save any money. The second year, he said he needed to buy a new car, so he had no money to marry me. All the way to the eighth year, he got completely drunk at a class reunion and asked me to pick him up. At the door, I heard a burst of mocking laughter. “If Elliot wanted to get married, forget $200,000—even if it was two million, Robertson would cough it up, right?” “Obviously! If Elliot hadn’t gone abroad back then, where would Elia even fit in? Forget $200,000—I bet if Robertson just played the victim card, she’d even pay him to marry her!” Robertson’s hoarse voice leaked through the crack in the door. “Stop it. Elia’s been with me for eight years after all. I will marry her eventually.” “It’s just that I’ve already worn her out completely. She’s not worth $200,000. At most, she’s worth one day of my salary—two thousand bucks.” With red-rimmed eyes, I called my mother, a top-tier matchmaker. “Mom, that handsome billionaire you mentioned—I’d like to meet him.”

Someone teased, “Two thousand? Robertson really knows his stuff—that’s exactly what the top girl at a nightclub charges for one night.” This remark triggered a wave of laughter. “If you ask me, even two thousand is overpaying. A woman in her thirties—how could she be worth the same price as a young, pretty girl?” “It’s only because Robertson is kind-hearted that he’s willing to marry her at all.” The mockery inside the door continued. “What’s said tonight, don’t let Elia…” Behind me, I seemed to hear Robertson’s slurred reprimand, but I couldn’t process a single word. I covered my face and hurried away from the bar. When I reached the entrance, an overwhelming wave of nausea surged up. I dry-heaved over a trash can. Yet my mind masochistically replayed those overheard words again and again. I couldn’t believe that the person I’d loved for eight years had only ever seen me as a cheap substitute. The night wind stung my eyes red. I couldn’t remember how I hailed a cab or how I got into it. A distinctive ringtone jolted me awake. I fumbled for my phone. A new message popped up in my pinned chat. “Babe, where are you? I feel terrible. Come pick me up.” Robertson was the picture of a rational elite in public, but in private with me, he’d act all clingy. I used to fall for that act completely. Now I just stared blankly, thinking— It seems Robertson really does love her. Even for me, his first love’s substitute, he’s willing to invest so much effort into performing. I didn’t reply. Instead, I made a phone call. Soon, a familiar voice answered irritably. “Why are you suddenly calling me?” The emotions I’d been suppressing for so long suddenly collapsed in the face of my closest person. “Mom, you were right. Robertson never intended to marry me…” “That guy you wanted to set me up with—I’ll meet him.” Before, when Robertson kept stalling on the wedding money, I hated nothing more than my mom’s nagging about marriage. Now, I desperately craved a new relationship to numb the pain of this one. “You’ve finally come to your senses! Don’t worry—I’m a top matchmaker. This one’s a rare catch. Robertson and all the rest can go to hell.” “But are you sure you’ve let go?” I smiled faintly. “Mom, you know I’m the most stubborn person alive. When I decided on Robertson, I could wait eight years for a promise. But once I’ve made up my mind to leave, I won’t hesitate for a second.” Some walls only need to be hit once. I hung up the phone and wiped away my tears. When I got out of the car, aside from slightly red eyes, there wasn’t a trace of vulnerability on my face.

In the early morning hours, half-asleep, a body carrying the faint scent of tequila wrapped around me. The man mumbled pitifully, “I stood outside in the wind for so long. Why didn’t you come pick me up?” It was as if everything I’d heard last night was just a hallucination, and Robertson and I were still an ordinary, happy couple. Until Robertson buried his head against my neck and murmured vaguely, “Elliot, you’ve finally come back…” I shoved him away awkwardly and fled to the guest bedroom. How pathetic you are, Elia, to be swayed by a little false tenderness. I stared at my reflection in the mirror—my face that resembled Elliot’s—and pinched my palm until it turned red. The next morning, Robertson came out of the kitchen wearing an apron, carrying a plate of heart-shaped fried eggs. When he saw me, the corner of his mouth curved upward. “Elia, come have breakfast!” On the bathroom counter sat a pair of couple’s toothbrushes—blue for me, pink for Robertson—nestled intimately together. I remembered when I handed Robertson the pink toothbrush. He’d scowled but obediently accepted it anyway. Eight years of affection carried too much weight. Little sweet reminders like this were scattered everywhere in this house. I splashed water on my face and collected myself. Sitting down at the table, I slowly stabbed the heart-shaped eggs on my plate into pieces. “Robertson, let’s break up.” The plate and fork collided with a harsh sound. The smile on Robertson’s face vanished instantly. “Elia, that’s not a funny joke.” I looked at him seriously and said it again. Robertson, who’d never frowned even when facing the toughest cases, showed rare emotional leakage. “You’ve been acting strange since yesterday. You didn’t pick me up. You didn’t wait for me to come home.” Robertson’s superior features darkened with anger. His hand, veins bulging, gripped my shoulder tightly. “Elia, what exactly are you trying to pull?” I didn’t want to admit I’d heard what he said yesterday. Those mocking words humiliated me. I shook off Robertson’s hand and went straight to the bedroom to grab the luggage I’d packed the night before. “Robertson, I’ve waited for you for eight years. I don’t want to wait anymore. It’s that simple. Let’s break up.” Robertson’s pitch-black eyes stared at me unblinkingly. He laughed mockingly. “Oh, I get it. You’re upset because I don’t have money?” “You’re practically menopausal, and you’re still playing hard to get? Isn’t it a bit late for that? Too bad—I’m not falling for it.” My heart stabbed with pain. He knew I was most sensitive about my age. I didn’t want to say another word. I shouldered my luggage and headed for the door. “Elia, within a week, you’ll come crawling back to me like a dog begging to get back together.” I closed the door, locking Robertson’s confident voice inside. Downstairs, I casually tossed my key into the trash can. I wasn’t some naive Natasha experiencing love for the first time. Since I’d decided to leave, I wouldn’t give myself the chance to turn back and humiliate myself again. Sitting in the car heading to the law firm, my mom’s message arrived right on time. “You actually know that blind date—Uncle Stephen’s youngest son, Nicholas. He’s a young entrepreneur. Want to set up a time to meet?” “Sure. I’ll go meet him after work.”

When I arrived at the firm, I submitted my prepared resignation letter. My boss looked somewhat surprised. “Elia, you’re very capable. Why resign?” I really liked the atmosphere at this firm, but unfortunately Robertson was a partner. I didn’t want any further entanglement with him. I smiled faintly without directly answering. “Personal reasons. Before the resignation process is complete, please don’t announce my departure.” When I left the office, there were cupcakes I loved on my desk, along with a cup of hot milk. My colleague Natasha teased with a smile, “Attorney Robertson brought them. He said you didn’t eat much breakfast.” Years ago I’d worked too hard and developed stomach problems. Robertson always remembered. Worried that takeout wasn’t clean, he’d personally cook three meals a day whenever he had time. Nutritious and tasty, he’d spoiled my stomach until it became finicky. A commotion pulled me from my memories. “Everyone, quiet down. Let me introduce our new colleague—Elliot. She just returned from abroad, an elite talent officially joining our firm today…” Applause rang out enthusiastically, but I just stared blankly as Elliot intimately linked arms with Robertson, the two of them smiling at each other. “What a handsome couple. They’re so well-matched.” “I heard Attorney Robertson personally requested that Elliot be his assistant.” “You guys don’t know—Elliot is Attorney Robertson’s first love. Attorney Robertson stayed single all these years because of her.” Natasha heard these comments and glanced at me awkwardly. Using his career as an excuse, Robertson had never made our relationship public. Only Natasha in the entire company knew. I handed her my breakfast and said flatly, “Want it?” After receiving a negative answer, I threw the breakfast into the trash. I felt in my pocket—only a half-melted chocolate remained. Robertson had prepared this in case my blood sugar dropped. I casually tossed it away and went downstairs to buy different breakfast. While waiting for the elevator, Robertson pulled me into a deserted area. He snatched the bread from my hand, frowning slightly. “You have stomach problems—you can’t eat things that are hard and cold.” “Stop throwing a tantrum. I’ll go buy you something else.” Before I could say “no need,” Elliot walked over. “Robertson!” Robertson instinctively pushed me away, explaining to Elliot as if to avoid suspicion. “Just an ordinary colleague. Not close…” Watching the two of them walk away, I silently picked up the bread that had fallen on the floor. My long-dormant stomach condition came back with a vengeance. I curled up against the wall, hurting so much tears came out, but this time there was no one to warm my stomach for me. Gently brushing the dust off the wrapper, I ate the entire breakfast mixed with tears, one bite at a time. By the time work ended, Robertson and Elliot still hadn’t returned. Colleagues teased with smiles, “Looks like we’ll have good news from the firm soon.” When I heard these words this morning, my heart still ached. Now, only a numb, dull pain remained. I finished my handover work and said goodbye to Natasha. She looked at me reluctantly. “Elia, don’t be sad. Robertson doesn’t deserve you!” I smiled and sent her a copy of my client list. “Hope you become a top attorney soon!” While waiting for the elevator, Elliot posted an ambiguous update on Twitter. Someone in the firm’s gossip group shared it, and the long-dormant chat instantly exploded. I didn’t look closely because my blind date had already arrived downstairs. I left the group and deleted Robertson’s Twitter. I walked toward the man holding flowers by the coffee shop. “Hello, I’m Elia.”

We were both in our thirties. Nicholas and I were going on this blind date with marriage in mind. Compatible conditions, good conversation, and both sets of parents knew each other well. After one date, just as Nicholas and I were about to make our relationship official, Robertson suddenly called. His voice carried the haze of alcohol and a fragile quality. “Elia, I feel awful. Can you please come get me?” Hearing that long-lost form of address, I momentarily spaced out. Robertson was five years younger than me. When we first met, he was still quite shy. “Elia, how do I revise this document?” “Elia, you’re amazing—you can win such difficult cases!” “Elia, will you be my girlfriend?” Seeing Nicholas’s concerned expression, I snapped back to reality and coldly refused. “No. I’m not available.” Robertson’s voice sounded very weak. “Don’t hang up. I’m at HAPPY bar, locked in a really cold, dark place. My phone’s dying. Only you can save me, Elia…” “Bang—” The sound of something heavy hitting the floor. The call disconnected. “Robertson!” I gripped my phone tightly, but there was no further response. Robertson had severe claustrophobia. Phone dead, no one around. If I really was the only person Robertson could contact, if something really happened to him because of me… I grabbed my bag and apologized to Nicholas. “It’s so late—let me drive you. I have a car. Your friend will be fine.” Nicholas showed no annoyance at being stood up. Instead, he gently comforted me. In the car, I clutched my phone, afraid of missing Robertson’s call for help. There wasn’t much traffic at night. We quickly arrived at HAPPY bar. The moment the car stopped, I anxiously jumped out. I called Robertson countless times. No one answered. My heart sank to the bottom. I was just about to call the police when I heard a familiar voice from a private room. “Robertson, will Elia really come?” “Don’t worry, Elliot. Elia is Robertson’s most obedient dog—guaranteed to come whenever called!” I pushed open the door. The laughter and noise cut off abruptly. When Robertson saw me, he smirked triumphantly. “I knew you couldn’t let me go!” He waved the game card in front of him. “Don’t worry—Elliot just lost at Truth or Dare. I helped her call someone, and I didn’t expect you’d actually be that free.” The worry from making countless unanswered calls, the heels of my feet rubbed raw from running frantically in high heels—all for one sentence: “I didn’t expect you’d actually be that free.” Elliot covered her mouth and giggled. “Sorry, I’ve been in a bad mood lately. Robertson wanted to cheer me up. Don’t take it personally, Elia. You really do have a talent for making people laugh.” She leaned intimately on Robertson’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming on call like that—just like a nanny. If you’re willing, I can pay you market rate.” A wave of knowing laughter rippled through the room. Robertson frowned slightly. “She’s not—” I cut off his words, lifted my head, and smiled at Elliot. “Sure. A nanny’s market rate is $6,000 a month. Eight years comes to $576,000 total. Transfer it to me.” Elliot’s smile froze. Tears squeezed from her eyes. The people who’d been jeering moments ago awkwardly shut their mouths. Robertson pulled Elliot behind him protectively, his face iron-dark. “Why are you making things difficult for Elliot over this little bit of money?” He pulled out his phone and operated it a few times. “Ding—” The money arrived. The notification that my resignation had been approved was also somehow already sitting in my inbox. I laughed mockingly at myself. He’d rather pay out $500,000 to bail Elliot out than spend $200,000 on wedding money for me. “Thank you, Attorney Robertson. I wish you both a happy marriage.” I hadn’t walked far when Robertson chased after me. “Elliot and I are innocent. Stop making a scene. Consider that $500,000 your wedding money. I’ll get our marriage license with you tomorrow, okay?” I dodged his hand and pointed at Nicholas waiting for me at the entrance. “Attorney Robertson, please keep your distance. My boyfriend is right there.”

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After Hearing My First Love Rafael’s Inner Thoughts, I Pulled My Investment When I was walking home with my first love, I suddenly heard his inner thoughts. [Claudia is so annoying, always insisting we leave school together every day.] [If I didn’t need her family’s resources for business, I wouldn’t even bother pretending to care about her.] [It’s pouring rain outside. I wonder if Giuliana brought an umbrella.] I froze mid-step. Giuliana—the beautiful scholarship student who just transferred here. Rafael stood before me with downcast eyes, his jawline tight and aloof. He clearly hadn’t spoken aloud, yet his voice continued to explode in my mind. [I heard Giuliana lives in the poor part of downtown. The roads there aren’t very good either.] [I’m really worried about her. I wish I could walk her home.] [If only I could find an excuse to ditch Claudia…] My footsteps halted. I felt momentarily stunned. Rafael lifted his eyelids, his expression cold and indifferent as he glanced at me. We’d known each other for years. I knew he was naturally distant and reserved, never good with words. I’d long grown accustomed to this way of interacting. But now, I seemed to see clear, unmistakable disgust in his eyes. Suddenly, a timid female voice came from the back door of the classroom. “Rafael, I… my umbrella broke.” I instinctively turned around. Giuliana was standing behind me, though I hadn’t noticed when she’d appeared. She clutched a broken floral umbrella in her hands, one of the ribs hanging down limply. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t bother you, but I’m afraid my textbooks will get wet…” She trailed off, then quickly glanced up at Rafael. Her eyes were red-rimmed, brimming with grievance and anxiety. She’d just transferred here last week and rarely spoke to other students. Her sudden request for help caught me off guard. After all, Rafael was notorious for hating to be bothered. He spoke and acted without sparing anyone’s feelings. But this time, after a moment’s thought, his low voice suddenly rang out: “Claudia, I can’t go home with you today.” “Since Giuliana lives so far away, I’ll walk her home instead.” Rafael’s expression remained ice-cold as always. If I hadn’t heard those inner thoughts, I might have actually believed this was a purely rational decision. “What about me?” I asked with a touch of mockery. Rafael frowned, then spoke: “Isn’t your driver waiting at the school gate?” “Just make do with her umbrella for now. Your house is close anyway—you won’t get wet for more than a few steps.” With that, he shoved Giuliana’s umbrella into my hands without allowing any refusal.

Seeing my silence, Giuliana’s expression filled with guilt and unease. She twisted the hem of her shirt with her fingers and spoke in a trembling voice: “No, how can Claudia use this broken umbrella…” “I’m sorry for causing you both trouble.” “Never mind, I’ll just run home.” She made as if to leave, but Rafael grabbed her arm. Rafael looked at me in silence, frowning, his thin lips pressed into a cold line. But his inner voice rang out in my mind. [Claudia’s definitely going to throw a tantrum again. I’m so sick of it.] [All her life, she’s just relied on her family’s power, thinking everyone should revolve around her.] [But I really don’t want to indulge her anymore. I like Giuliana—do I have to spell it out?] [Giuliana can’t possibly walk home in the rain…] I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe, as if something in my chest was slowly shattering. Before Rafael could speak, I voluntarily stepped back: “You two go ahead.” Rafael let out a relieved breath and turned to the side, his voice gentle: “Giuliana, give me your backpack.” Giuliana glanced at me hesitantly. Then she nodded obediently and ducked under Rafael’s umbrella. Before long, their silhouettes disappeared into the curtain of rain. I looked down at the ground. Then I tossed Giuliana’s broken umbrella by the back door and walked into the rain. At the school gate, Sargent’s car sat with its lights on. He froze for a moment, then quickly grabbed an umbrella and ran over: “Miss Claudia, why are you alone? Where’s Rafael?” “Let’s go home first.” I leaned back against the seat, my eyes stinging. When I got home, my mother’s face was full of worry. She dried my hair while chattering: “What were you thinking, child! Why are you soaked like this? Where’s Rafael? Doesn’t he walk you home every day?” “Look at you—your lips are completely pale! Your father’s still overseas on that business deal. If he finds out, he’ll fly back overnight…” “Mom.” I interrupted her with downcast eyes, my voice hoarse. “I want to go back to my room and sleep.” Her gaze lingered on my face for a moment. She didn’t press further, instead turning toward the kitchen to tell the housekeeper to prepare dinner for me. I changed my clothes and went upstairs. Behind the closed door, all sounds were shut out. But the scenes from earlier kept replaying uncontrollably in my mind. I thought of the faint smile that curved Rafael’s lips when he faced Giuliana. Then I recalled the way he looked at me—full of perfunctory dismissal and impatience. At this moment, I finally believed with certainty that those inner thoughts I’d heard weren’t hallucinations. So that’s how it was. Beyond using me, Rafael felt nothing but disgust toward me. We’d known each other for years. I’d thought he was naturally aloof, maintaining that cold demeanor with everyone. Only today did I see through it all. He wasn’t incapable of expressing emotion—he just despised me. In the quiet room, my phone suddenly rang. On the screen, the caller was Rafael.

The moment I answered, Rafael’s voice came through with an accusation: “Claudia, did you go home and tell your parents something?” “It rained so hard today. I was just walking Giuliana home. Did you really have to complain to my father about it?” His breathing came through the receiver—rapid and irregular. I rarely saw him lose his composure like this. “Rafael,” my voice was calm, “did you call just to blame me?” “Or do you think that as long as my family doesn’t ask, your father won’t find out what happened today?” Rafael fell silent for a moment. Over the phone, my ability to hear his thoughts seemed to fail, but I could imagine his annoyed expression. After a long pause, he finally spoke coldly: “Couldn’t you just explain things for me?” “In the end, you’re just throwing a tantrum, deliberately…” I took a deep breath and cut him off abruptly: “Rafael, why should I cover for what you did?” The voice on the other end stopped dead. I laughed coldly: “You think your father heard about this from me?” “Rafael, don’t you have any idea how many people your father has stationed around us to keep watch?” “After all, he knows better than anyone how many projects my family has handed over to…” A dull thud suddenly came from the other end of the line. Rafael spoke through gritted teeth: “Are you done yet?!” “What?” I continued. “If I don’t say it, does that mean it doesn’t exist?” All these years, there were things I never mentioned, but that didn’t mean I was unaware. Rafael’s family had many children and was a sprawling clan. Initially, Rafael was just the quietest, most unremarkable one. The Walker family had been established in San Francisco for three generations, and I was their only daughter—the sole heir to Walker Corporation. My parents doted on me and, by extension, looked after Rafael, my childhood companion. Because of this, the Harrington family business, which had teetered on the brink of bankruptcy multiple times, not only paid off its debts but also secured countless resources and projects. With the Walker family’s support, Rafael gradually earned recognition within his own family. The other end of the line went quiet for a long time, as if weighing pros and cons. After a while, Rafael finally spoke in a low voice: “Claudia, I won’t contact you for a while.” “Reflect on yourself properly.” His tone carried an air of fearless indifference. Before I could respond, he hung up. After that phone call, Rafael and I entered a cold war. I knew he was waiting for me to cave first, just like every other argument we’d had before. The cold war lasted three days. On my way back to the classroom, Giuliana came running straight into me. By the time I registered what happened, she was already sitting on the ground, clutching her ankle in pain. Students in the hallway stopped in their tracks, their gazes converging on us. From the crowd, a low male voice suddenly rang out. “Claudia, what are you doing?!” I looked toward the voice and met Rafael’s disgusted stare. Giuliana bit her lower lip, her voice weak: “It’s not Claudia’s fault. I was walking too fast.” [And she’s still making excuses for Claudia even now. Giuliana is just too kind.] [I only ignored Claudia for a few days, and she’s already taking it out on Giuliana. Still as spoiled as ever.] [Once I take over my father’s company, I definitely won’t let Claudia off easy.] Rafael’s face remained impassive, but his inner thoughts exploded like rapid fire in my mind.

I glanced at the students gathered around to watch the drama, my tone calm: “She’s the one who ran into me.” Rafael frowned: “Come on, what’s the point of making excuses?” “Did she sprain her own ankle just to frame you?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. I glanced at Giuliana’s aggrieved face and said flatly: “Yeah, because she knew someone would come running over like a dog to defend her without asking any questions.” The hallway fell silent for a moment. Giuliana looked up with grievance, sobbing softly: “Claudia, I know you don’t like me, but how can you insult Rafael like that?” “He was just trying to speak up for me…” Rafael clenched his fists, knuckles white with restraint. “Claudia, do you have to be this unreasonable?” “Looks like these past few days haven’t taught you where you went wrong.” I cut him off abruptly: “If you think I’m being unreasonable, then don’t associate with me anymore.” “I’ll tell my parents when I get home. You’d better prepare yourself mentally.” [There she goes again, using her family’s power to control me whenever she loses her temper.] [Ha, it’s all an act. If I give her the cold shoulder for a few days, she’ll come crawling back like always.] [Once she cools down in a couple days, I’ll make her apologize to Giuliana.] His inner voice laid out all his thoughts crystal clear. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care.” After a long pause, Rafael coldly dropped that single sentence. Then he bent down, slipped one arm under Giuliana’s knees, and lifted her into his arms. “Bear with the pain. I’ll take you to the nurse’s office.” He looked down at her, his voice gentle. Giuliana rested against his shoulder, tears still streaking her face. But the corners of her lips curled upward, and the look she gave me carried a hint of provocation. I ignored them and turned toward the classroom. My father finished handling overseas business and returned home that evening. The study door closed. He sat behind the desk and casually tossed a stack of documents onto the table. “Take a look. The Harrington family submitted these.” “That project on the east side of town—Rafael’s father has approached me several times, but I’ve held off on making a decision.” “Claudia, what do you think?” I understood my father’s attitude toward the Harrington family. All these years, Harrington Industries had relied on Walker Corporation’s resources and connections to gradually establish a foothold in the business world. My father had always been straightforward and forthright. He despised the Harrington family’s calculating shrewdness. In the past, I’d been infatuated with Rafael. Out of love for me, my father kept investing in and handing projects to the Harrington family. After all, back then, my father genuinely considered Rafael a future son-in-law. But after hearing about recent events, he’d clearly lost the patience to maintain that relationship. I looked at him calmly: “Dad, I was foolish before, but I’ve figured things out now.” “Our partnership with the Harrington family ends here.” He smiled faintly and pushed the stack of project proposals aside: “Alright, then we’ll do as you say.” “But I want you to remember—you’re my precious daughter, the future heir to this company.” “Claudia, you don’t need to bow your head to anyone.”

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I bought a secondhand laptop online. When I opened it, the wallpaper was a full nude photo of my fiancé, Lachlan. I was stunned. Was this fate bringing something that belonged to him back to me? Just as I was about to call Lachlan to ask what was going on, the seller frantically started calling me: “I made a mistake! I sent you my boyfriend’s laptop by mistake!” “There are really important work files on that computer—don’t touch anything! I’ll send you the correct laptop right away. I’ll cover the shipping!” Listening to the sweet, delicate voice on the other end of the line, my heart instantly sank. When did Lachlan get another girlfriend besides me? After hanging up, I forced myself to calm down, my fingers trembling as I moved the mouse. Apart from that wallpaper, the desktop was suspiciously clean—just one folder labeled “My Treasure.” Lachlan had once created a folder with that exact name for me, filled with photos of us from childhood to now. My heart pounded wildly as an absurd thought exploded in my mind. Was Lachlan cheating on me? The thought only lingered for a second before I crushed it. Because I knew perfectly well that even if every man in the world cheated, Lachlan would be the exception. After all, we were childhood sweethearts who grew up together in the same neighborhood, watched over by everyone. He loved me—loved me enough to remember my period every month and have hot milk ready in advance. Loved me enough that the passwords to his phone, computer, and all his social media accounts were my birthday. Besides, our wedding was only two weeks away. This had to be a misunderstanding. I took a deep breath, as if trying to suppress the inexplicable panic rising in my chest. Double-click. The folder opened. What appeared before my eyes were intimate photos of Lachlan with an unfamiliar girl. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly, like lightning striking me, the shock making every organ in my body ache. I looked through them one by one. Every single photo mocked my self-deception. Lachlan really was cheating. And I had been lost in the joy of soon becoming his bride. How ridiculous. I don’t know how long I sat there in a daze before I finally calmed down. The first thing I did was open my phone and book a flight to Paris in seven days. That was the dream destination I had once given up to be with Lachlan. Now, I was going to pick up my paintbrush again and pursue the artistic dream that had been shelved by love for too long. Next, I packaged all those disgraceful photos from the computer and sent them to my best friend, Zoey. Zoey’s call came through immediately, her voice full of shock and fury: “Harper! That bastard! Just wait—I’m getting people together right now to destroy him!” I interrupted her, my voice terrifyingly calm: “No need. Saturday, at our families’ engagement party, I’ll handle it myself. I need your help with something. I’m going to give Lachlan a big gift.” Just as I finished speaking, Lachlan’s voice suddenly sounded behind me, his tone light and tender: “Harper, guess what I brought you?” He was carrying cream puffs from my favorite shop. When he saw my face, the smile on his face instantly froze. “Harper? What’s wrong? Why are your eyes so red?” He dropped the bags and quickly walked over, reaching out to hug me. I instinctively dodged. I opened my mouth, my voice sounding dry and unlike my own: “Lachlan, you…” Just as I was about to tear away this layer of false warmth, his phone rang abruptly. Lachlan instinctively glanced at the caller ID, and his expression changed instantly. He quickly pressed silent and flipped the phone face-down on the table, his movements so fast it seemed like he was hiding something. “A… telemarketer,” he explained, his tone somewhat unnatural. But I had seen it. The moment the screen lit up, the caller ID showed “Quinn.” Watching him panic while trying to maintain composure, I found it unbearably ironic. I looked up at him and asked softly, “Lachlan, do you love me?” He looked stunned by my question, then laughed and affectionately tapped my nose. “Silly girl, why ask that? If I don’t love you, who would I love?” I stared into his eyes, asking word by word: “What about Tara Quinn? Do you love her too?” Tara Quinn—that was the seller’s name.

The doting smile on Lachlan’s face crumbled inch by inch. He stared at me blankly. After a few seconds, he finally found his voice, tinged with disbelief. “Harper, what are you talking about? Where did you hear that name?” Within just one second, that familiar face had taken on an expression of hurt and helplessness. He reached out to touch my face, his voice low and aggrieved: “Harper, Tara Quinn is a new intern in my department. There was a problem with a project today, and I just helped her out.” The wounded look of being falsely accused was perfectly calibrated. If I hadn’t seen those photos with my own eyes, I would have thought I was being unreasonable. He tried to pull me into his arms, his voice softening even more, as if coaxing a child throwing a tantrum. “Is the wedding stress getting to you?” “Don’t overthink it. After fifteen years together, don’t you trust me?” I looked at his face, so close to mine, yet instinctively pushed him away. This action made the hurt in his eyes deepen. His voice carried a barely perceptible tremor: “Harper, what’s wrong with you? Did someone say something to you?” Just as I was about to pull out that laptop and throw all the sordid evidence in his face, his phone—still face-down on the table—vibrated again. This time it wasn’t a call, but a message. He instinctively reached for it, but I was faster, catching a glimpse of the calendar reminder that popped up on the screen. [Today at 5 PM: Pick up Devotion.] My heart clenched suddenly. Devotion was the name of the first painting I’d ever sold. That year, when I had just started college, my work was hung in the school gallery with no buyers. Finally, a mysterious buyer purchased it. Much later, I learned that buyer was Lachlan. He hung the painting in our future marital home, pointing at my messy signature on it and saying: “For the rest of my life, I’ll marry no one but you.” That painting was the beginning of our love, the unique, devoted love he promised me. Seeing that I’d noticed the reminder, a flash of annoyance crossed Lachlan’s face, which then softened into helpless tenderness. He handed me his phone and opened the note for that reminder. It read: Harper’s wedding ring—inspired by the painting, named with love. He sighed and gently hugged me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “I wanted to surprise you the day before the wedding, but you discovered it early.” “I found a designer in France and had the compositional elements of Devotion made into a ring. Harper, our rings are one-of-a-kind in the whole world.” His voice carried a smile, warm breath falling on my ear. “Don’t be angry anymore, okay? I admit, that Tara Quinn pestered me with some talk, but I rejected her.” “In my world, besides you, there’s no room for anyone else.” He paused and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going out to pick up the ring. It’s too cold outside—stay home and wait for me. I’ll be back soon to keep you company.” I pulled my hand back, my voice eerily calm: “Go ahead.” As soon as Lachlan left, I grabbed my phone to check the transaction records on the secondhand platform. The seller’s name was Tara Quinn, and the address was a high-end apartment complex in the western part of the city. Once, Lachlan had pointed at a billboard for that place and said to me: “Harper, I bought you a small place there. You can paint there in peace from now on!” I had been so happy then, thinking it was another testament to our love. Now, it had become the cruelest irony. I opened a rideshare app and entered the address. Half an hour later, the car stopped at the entrance to the complex. I immediately spotted Lachlan’s familiar black Range Rover. I didn’t go in, just stood in the shadows across the street. Before long, the building door opened. Lachlan walked out with a petite figure. I recognized her immediately as the girl from the photos—Tara Quinn. Tara clung intimately to his arm, practically hanging on him. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. And Lachlan looked down at her with a hint of indulgent affection at the corner of his mouth—the same way he’d looked at me for the past fifteen years. My hands and feet went ice cold, yet I instinctively raised my phone’s camera and pointed it at them.

My stomach churned violently, worse than when I’d first seen those photos. Tara tilted her face up, seeking a kiss. Lachlan didn’t push her away—he just smiled helplessly and tapped her forehead with his finger. “Stop it. What if someone sees?” Tara shook his arm insistently, her voice coquettish: “So what if they see? Your fiancée loves you so much that even if she found out, she’d just assume I seduced you.” Lachlan’s face hardened, his voice cold with warning: “I told you clearly before we got together—I have my responsibilities and my boundaries. Harper is the person I’m going to marry. That will never change.” Tara pouted and pulled an exquisite velvet box from her purse, holding it out to Lachlan. “Okay, okay, don’t be mad. I promise I won’t make a scene in front of her. Look what I got you!” “Can we call our rings Devotion too?” Lachlan’s expression stiffened for a moment. He looked at Tara, and finally smiled: “You little vixen.” I watched him accept that ring and slide it onto his ring finger. The design of that ring was seventy to eighty percent similar to the wedding ring he’d just described to me—the one supposedly inspired by my painting. The last trace of warmth I’d felt for these fifteen years completely dissipated. I recorded this final scene, put away my phone, turned around, and hailed a cab. Back home, I didn’t turn on the lights. In the darkness, I sat on the sofa, replaying that video over and over. Watching the hesitation that flashed across Lachlan’s face when he put on that ring, followed by his eventual surrender. None of it was an accident. That laptop, that wallpaper—all of it was a trap Tara had carefully designed. Just waiting for me, the legitimate fiancée, to personally uncover my husband’s other face. She’d succeeded. My world, along with those fifteen years of love, shattered completely. After sending this video to Zoey as well, I acted as if nothing had happened, quietly waiting for the day of the engagement party. Lachlan was probably feeling guilty—he became even more attentive and considerate toward me. The more he acted this way, the more disgusted I felt. The night before the engagement party, Lachlan excitedly brought over an exquisite gift box, his face wearing a tender smile. “Harper, come quick! Look at the dress I had custom-made for you. You’ll look absolutely beautiful wearing it at tomorrow’s engagement.” He opened the box like presenting a treasure. Inside was a champagne-colored mermaid gown. The hem was studded with tiny crystals that sparkled gently under the light. Then he knelt on one knee and opened a velvet box. Inside lay a diamond ring with an intricate design. The lines winding around the band were the composition from my painting Devotion. He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with love: “Harper, this is our Devotion. It will be like my love for you—eternal and unchanging.” “After tomorrow, you’ll be my wife. Harper, I’ve waited so long for this day.” His voice carried a barely perceptible nervousness, his fingertips trembling slightly. I looked at myself reflected in his eyes—the girl who had once been full of joy and hope for the future now felt only a barren coldness. I didn’t extend my hand. I just quietly watched him, watched the anticipation in his eyes gradually freeze and finally turn into unease. He asked tentatively, “Harper? Don’t you like it?” I slowly shook my head, my voice flat: “I like it. It’s beautiful.” He visibly relaxed and tried to take my hand to put the ring on me. But I gently moved away, taking the ring box from his hand. Looking at those winding lines, I suddenly smiled. “What if tomorrow… I ran away from the wedding? What would you do?”

“What are you talking about, silly?” Lachlan laughed and ruffled my hair: “If you ran, I’d turn the whole earth upside down to find you and lock you by my side.” I lowered my eyelids, hiding the mockery in my eyes: “Lachlan, if… if I did something to hurt you, would you forgive me?” The smile faded from Lachlan’s face. He cupped my face, forcing me to meet his eyes, his expression frighteningly serious. “Don’t say things like that.” His thumb caressed my cheek, his voice low: “Harper, between us, there’s no ‘hurting’ and no ‘forgiving.’” “You would never do anything to hurt me, just like I would never betray you.” He said it with such certainty, such apparent sincerity. I almost laughed out loud. Was this certainty based on his trust in me, or his confidence in his own acting skills? I said nothing more, letting him hold me in his arms, feeling that false yet familiar warmth. On the day of the engagement, before leaving, I took out my phone and sent Zoey a final message: “Proceed as planned.” The banquet hall was lively and warm. Both our parents and several close elders were there. Lachlan’s mother held my hand, beaming: “Harper is getting more beautiful every day. Our Lachlan marrying you is a blessing from eight lifetimes of good karma.” I smiled, playing the role of a bride-to-be immersed in happiness. Lachlan sat beside me, considerately serving me food, occasionally whispering sweet nothings in my ear. We looked so intimate that everyone envied us. Halfway through the dinner, Lachlan’s father cleared his throat and stood up, preparing to announce our official wedding date. Just as everyone’s attention focused on him, Lachlan’s phone vibrated. He picked it up, glanced at it, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Then he gave me a reassuring smile and lowered his voice: “Something urgent at the office. I’ll step out to take this call. Be right back.” He got up and hurried out. The moment the private room door closed, I stood up. Under everyone’s bewildered gazes, I walked to the front of the room and connected my phone to the huge screen that had been prepared to show our sweet memories. Zoey’s carefully edited video began to play. The entire room fell deathly silent. I heard Lachlan’s mother gasp, saw the shock drain all color from my parents’ faces. I picked up the microphone, my voice ringing clearly through the room: “I’m sorry, everyone. This engagement party is canceled.” With that, I put down the microphone and, under everyone’s stares, turned and walked out of that suffocating banquet hall. Lachlan was leaning against the window at the end of the corridor, softly coaxing Tara on the phone. “Okay, okay, it’s just a stomachache. As soon as the engagement party ends, I’ll come keep you company. Don’t cry, my baby.” Before he could hang up, a resounding slap landed hard across his face. Lachlan was stunned. He covered his face, looking up in disbelief. The next second, his father pointed at him, trembling with rage: “You disgraceful bastard! Get in there right now and see what you’ve done!”

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Before my wedding to Alpha Liam, he slept with another woman. He explained to me, “She’s the mate the Moon Goddess destined for me. She has an irresistible pull on me. You understand, don’t you?” “Don’t make a fuss. At least you’re the only one I’m willing to Mark.” I smiled and nodded, then turned around and slept with his friend Chase, deliberately letting him find out. But Liam just calmly pushed open the door and sat down beside us, asking mockingly, “How does it feel?” Chase got off me. “Not bad, just a bit awkward.” “Liam, have you never trained her? Her movements are way too stiff.” My carefully planned revenge was nothing but a joke to him. He didn’t care at all. I completely broke down and was sent by Liam to a correctional facility on a deserted island to learn how to become “normal.” He didn’t know that there were no doctors there—only a group of lunatics who took pleasure in tormenting Omegas. A year later, Liam came to pick me up, but by then, I no longer loved him. The facility administrator pushed the door open. “Ellie, Alpha Liam has completed your discharge paperwork. You’re free to go.” I nodded numbly. As I walked out of that gray building, I could still hear the whispers of a few staff members behind me. “Poor thing, driven to this state by her fiancé.” “What’s so pitiful about it? Her fiancé is a top-tier Alpha—handsome and rich. He just has a mistress. She should’ve just turned a blind eye. She really doesn’t know how to appreciate what she has.” A year ago, words like these would have made me hysterical. But now, they couldn’t even make me pause. Outside in the clearing, Liam stood waiting for me beside a helicopter. I walked up to him. He raised his index finger, wanting to touch my face. “You’ve gotten thinner.” I tilted my head slightly, dodging him. His hand froze in midair for a moment before he withdrew it. He pulled open the cabin door. “Get in.” Climbing into the helicopter, the first thing I saw was a piece of exquisitely crafted women’s lingerie on the seat. Liam followed my gaze, froze for a moment when he saw the lingerie, then picked it up and casually stuffed it into his coat pocket. “My assistant is so scatterbrained. Don’t mind it.” I smiled but didn’t reply. That lingerie style was typical of that woman named Serena’s taste. It seemed that before coming to pick me up, they’d done something in this helicopter. But it didn’t matter. I stopped caring long ago. As the helicopter took off, Liam’s fingertips tapped lightly on the armrest a few times before he spoke. “I’ve cut things off with her completely. I threw out all the bedding in the bedroom and replaced it with a new set—the style you like.” “Mm.” I responded lightly. He continued, “I had the maids dust all your things every day. Nothing’s gotten dirty.” “Thank you.” I smiled faintly. Liam turned his head to look at me, something dark and unclear flickering in his eyes. He pulled out a small red velvet box from his pocket. “I had the ring reordered. The diamond’s bigger than before. Want to see if you like it?” I didn’t take the box. Instead, I said, “About the wedding—let’s forget it.” Liam didn’t take my words seriously and just tossed the box into my lap. “Enough with the tantrum. I slept with her, and you slept with my friend. We’re even now.” “Besides, I’ve kept the position of my wife for you all along. You’re a werewolf who can’t even shift, yet you get to become the Luna of Shadow Fang Pack. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?” I stared at the small box in my hands, didn’t argue, just smiled bitterly. I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was just going home. It wasn’t as prosperous as this place—just the old territory of a fallen Pack, where my mom and dad were buried. But there was no Liam there. No pain. The helicopter landed on the rooftop helipad. Everything here remained unchanged. I didn’t walk into the bedroom that belonged to me and him. Instead, I dragged my suitcase toward the guest room. Liam blocked my way. “What’s the meaning of this?” “I got used to sleeping alone at the facility.” I turned to glance at the room that once belonged to me and him. “And besides, I don’t want to sleep in that bed anymore.” On the day I discovered he’d slept with that woman, I checked the surveillance footage and found out it wasn’t just once. He’d once promised me he would never accept the mate fate assigned him, that he would only ever love me. Yet after rejecting Serena in front of me, he secretly installed her in the villa. He slept with her almost every month. Even that bed specially customized for me bore traces of them. When I saw that scene, my heart ached so much I couldn’t breathe. Liam stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a cold laugh. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t overdo it. You always pull this stunt, then end up begging to move back in anyway.” I watched his retreating back, but the heartache I used to feel didn’t come. It seemed the “correction” at the facility really worked. I’d forgotten what it felt like to have my heart beat for him, to have my emotions rise and fall with his. Late at night, accustomed to the hard plank bed at the facility, I couldn’t get used to sleeping on this soft, plush bed anymore. During the year I spent at the facility, Liam didn’t come to see me even once. I would always cry and beg the administrators, threatening to hurt myself to make them let me call him. Once, twice, three times… When the call connected, I would cry and beg him to come see me, or at least say a few words to me. And he would only respond in that icy voice devoid of any emotion: “Ellie, reflect on yourself properly. When the time comes, I’ll naturally come get you.” Gradually, I grew numb and finally stopped wanting to call him.

Feeling thirsty, I got up and went downstairs to get water. But I saw Liam on the balcony, talking on the phone. His voice wasn’t loud, but I could hear clearly. “Mm, tomorrow’s auction—bid on whatever you want, don’t worry about the price. Be good. I’ve been a bit busy lately, so I can’t always be with you.” His tone was doting. That tone used to belong only to me, but not anymore. I stood quietly behind him with my water glass, listening for a while. Finding it uninteresting, I turned to leave. But then I heard, “Ellie? When did you come down?” He’d already hung up the phone. “Just now…” He wanted to explain, but I cut him off. “I was thirsty, just came down for water. Continue what you were doing, don’t mind me.” He walked toward me, reaching out to grab me. But I’d already turned and headed upstairs ahead of him. At the staircase landing, I saw from the corner of my eye that his gaze followed me the entire time. The next day at breakfast, Liam poured me a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. This was his habit. Every time, I would drink the entire glass, and he would watch me with a gentle smile. But this time, I didn’t touch the orange juice. Instead, I poured myself a glass of warm water. His smile froze on his face, but he said nothing. Liam got up, grabbed his coat, and headed out. “I need to go out for a bit.” “Okay,” I replied. He stopped at the door and looked at me. “Nothing you want to ask?” I paused for a moment. Indeed, if this were before, I definitely would have interrogated him thoroughly. Asked him what he was doing, how long he’d be gone, who he was with. I didn’t know when it started—when I became so insecure, so afraid of him leaving me. Fortunately, not anymore. I spoke, my tone flat. “No.” Liam stood there for a few seconds but ultimately said nothing. After he left, I got up and went to my room to pack. Actually, there wasn’t much to bring. The clothes I wore at the facility—I didn’t want to take them. Seeing them would only remind me of those painful memories. I put the photo of me with my mom and dad into my suitcase. And a hardcover notebook—the “reflection journal” I was required to write at the facility. I flipped through it. Each page was only allowed one sentence. [Called him again today. 180th time. He only said to reflect.] [Today’s “correction” really hurt.] [I miss Mom and Dad so much. No one loves me anymore. Now even he’s bullying me.] [It’s my birthday today. No one remembers.] [Haven’t thought about him for three days now. The administrator says I’m almost normal.] I closed the notebook and tossed it into the trash. Liam returned quickly and wanted to take me to a party. I was brought to a makeup room upstairs at the venue to touch up my makeup. The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear him talking with friends in the hallway outside. “Liam, how are things with her?” It was Chase’s voice. Liam’s voice was calm. “Fine.” “She seems much more obedient now—just sits there quietly. When she saw me, she didn’t even react. I thought she was going to go crazy again.” Chase continued, “But seriously, hasn’t Serena been getting a bit too showy lately? She bid on a sky-high diamond ring at the auction today without batting an eye. That’s one thing, but she’s been going around telling everyone you gave it to her.”

Liam’s voice came through. “As long as she’s happy.” “Aren’t you afraid Ellie will find out? She finally got back to normal. Don’t let her turn crazy again and start cutting herself with knives and stuff.” Liam replied, “If she finds out, she finds out. She’ll throw a tantrum for a while, then behave. Same routine every time. Doesn’t she get tired of it?” Casual. Matter-of-fact. “Honestly, Ellie’s so much easier on the eyes now that she’s not making a scene. Liam, after bringing her back, did you ‘train’ her?” “Enough.” Liam’s voice turned cold. The hallway fell silent. I sat before the makeup mirror, letting the makeup artist do her work, my heart calm. After finishing my makeup, I went downstairs. Chase approached first, walking up beside me and looking me over with a smirk. “Ellie, you’re looking much better. If you have any ‘needs,’ you can still come find me, you know.” I didn’t respond. He sat down on the armrest of the sofa next to me. “Honestly, I still remember that night last year.” “Looking at you now, you’ve lost so much weight. I wonder if you still feel the same as you did back then.” I remained expressionless. He sneered. “No wonder Liam got tired of you. That cold face, like a wooden plank—no fun at all.” Finally, Liam walked over and looked at me. “Stay with me. You’re my fiancée. Understand?” “What time does this end?” I asked him. He seemed puzzled, as if unsure why I was asking, but answered anyway. “Eleven.” My flight was at midnight. So I nodded, agreeing. Chase’s face showed an amused smile. At the party, Liam took me around to socialize, introducing me to others. Actually, he didn’t need to introduce me. That scandal from years ago had caused such an uproar that everyone remembered I was once a lunatic who slept with her fiancé’s friend. Then I’d gone crazy, cutting myself with a knife, forcing Liam to send his mistress away. Finally, I was sent by Liam himself to the island correctional facility. Those people put on smiling faces for Liam, but when they looked at me, their eyes held something else—like pity. I smiled politely, not caring. “Liam.” Serena’s saccharine voice rang out. She walked naturally to Liam’s side and linked her arm through his. “Thank you.” As she spoke, she deliberately raised her hand to brush back her hair. The enormous, blindingly brilliant diamond ring on her finger drew even more attention. Liam’s expression remained unchanged. He even smiled gently at her. “As long as you like it.” As if I didn’t exist at all. I felt a bit nauseous, so I withdrew the hand that had been linked through Liam’s arm. “I’m going to the restroom.” Liam whispered in my ear, “If you really want to make a scene, wait until we get home. Don’t do it at this kind of event. Understand? Come back quickly.” I hummed in acknowledgment, then went to the restroom and threw up. I vomited until I was dizzy. In my daze, I remembered the times at the facility when the administrators would force my mouth open and make me swallow pills to “calm me down.” Fortunately, I wouldn’t be “disobedient” anymore, and I wouldn’t be force-fed pills again. I walked out of the restroom. Passing by a terrace, I saw Chase smoking. Seeing me, he started talking. Chase blew out a smoke ring. “Are you just putting on a brave front? Jealous again, aren’t you?” “That Serena really is something, deliberately wearing that ring out to show off. She’ll be thrilled if she drives you ‘crazy’ again later.”

I walked straight past him without replying. I returned to Liam’s side. Liam looked down at me, satisfaction in his eyes. He smelled of Serena’s perfume, and there was a trace of her lipstick on his neck. No need to guess what they’d done while I was gone. But none of it mattered anymore. I glanced at my phone. Half an hour until ten o’clock. Liam leaned down and whispered in my ear, “About the wedding—we’ll hold it next month. I’ve looked at a few venues. Tonight when we get back, I’ll have Beta Jordan send you the information so you can choose.” I looked at him. “I already told you—forget about the wedding.” His voice carried a warning. “There’s a limit to throwing tantrums. I’ve told you, I’ll only marry you. What more do you want from me? Do you want me to beg you?” He was getting impatient, mistaking my indifference for another tantrum. “I don’t want anything from you,” I said. “I’m just not marrying you anymore.” “Enough.” His voice turned cold. “Do I need to send you back to the island before you’ll wake up? Don’t be ungrateful.” I took a deep breath. “You still think I’m throwing a tantrum, don’t you?” “What else would it be?” He let out a cold laugh. “Isn’t it all because of Serena? Getting mad at me—how many times has this been now?” I wanted to say that I really didn’t care anymore. But before I could speak, Serena walked over again, holding a glass of red wine. She walked quickly. As she approached us, she suddenly exclaimed “Oh my!” and the entire glass of wine spilled precisely onto the front of my light-colored dress. “Oh my God! Ellie, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Look at me, so clumsy…” She apologized loudly, but her voice held no real sincerity. Instead, she successfully drew everyone’s attention. Liam frowned but first comforted the supposedly startled Serena. Then he looked at me, soaked and frozen in place, his gaze cold, his tone clearly displeased. “What are you standing there for? Don’t embarrass yourself here. Go take care of it yourself.” With that, he put his arm around Serena’s shoulder and turned toward the lounge. Chase’s gaze landed on me like a spotlight, full of amusement and anticipation of a good show. If this were the old me, I would’ve already lost it and started attacking people. But now, I simply said calmly to the nearest server, “Could you take me to the changing room, please?” Chase clapped his hands and approached, looking me up and down. “Damn, Ellie, which facility did you go to that’s so effective? You can endure being treated like this?” “Are you really changed, or are you planning an even bigger counterattack?” “I have to say, this version of you is way more pleasant than when you used to throw tantrums. Liam might actually go for this. Very clever tactics.” I ignored them and simply followed the server outside. Behind me, Chase’s voice rang out. “You’re really just going to change clothes? Not waiting for Liam to come back and coax you?” I didn’t pause or look back. I didn’t go to the changing room. Instead, I went straight to the entrance and said to the doorman, “Could you call me a car, please?” I went back to the villa first to get my already-prepared small suitcase, then headed to the airport. I boarded the plane and put my phone on airplane mode. I slept for what felt like a long time. When I woke up, I’d landed. I turned off airplane mode. Almost instantly, my phone began vibrating violently.

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After the explosion, I escaped to a border town and opened a flower shop under a new identity. Everyone thought I died in that explosion. For two years, my gravestone has been spotlessly cleaned every single day. Until today, when a customer walked into my flower shop. The person who pushed open the door was an old friend of mine. She stared at me in shock, asking why I hadn’t gone back if I was alive. She also said Kael had been guarding my grave for two years and nearly committed suicide. Kael was my ex-husband, the Alpha heir of the Dubois pack. He had a childhood sweetheart. Her parents died fifteen years ago saving Kael’s mother, Luna Raven, during a Rogue attack. After that, Talia became Kael’s foster sister. After I married Kael, she began targeting me. The first time, she locked me in a burning building. I barely escaped by breaking through a window, my entire body covered in burns. Kael brought in the best specialists, pulled me back from death’s door, and helped heal my skin. The second time, she conspired with several Rogues to ambush me on my way home. I was beaten within an inch of my life. Kael rescued me and captured those Rogues, punishing them severely. She harmed, he rescued. Over and over again. Until the last time. Talia bought a potion from a witch and created a massive explosion. My entire body was blasted, my lungs critically injured. As they lifted me onto a stretcher, I used every ounce of strength to beg Kael to report this to the Wolf Council. He knelt down and gently shook his head. “Alicia, Talia didn’t mean it. Her parents died for my mother.” “For my sake, can you let it go?” In that moment, my heart died completely.

The next day, I woke up in the hospital, and the first thing I did was call Luna Raven. I knew she’d never liked me. My voice was terrifyingly calm. “I agree to divorce Kael.” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Luna Raven responded decisively: “Good that you’ve come to your senses. I’ll have someone send over the papers. Just sign them.” Not long after I hung up, a lawyer appeared in my hospital room, mechanically handing me a divorce agreement. Tears blurred my vision as memories of Kael flooded back uncontrollably. In our three years of marriage, he’d been considerate and gentle, taking care of everything. But when it came to anything involving Talia, he never had any boundaries. The first time we met, Talia locked me in a house engulfed in flames. Later, with burns covering my entire body, it took multiple healers to restore my skin. Crying, I begged Kael to hold her accountable, but he just held me and said, “Alicia, Talia was just careless. She’s not a bad person. I’m just glad you’re okay.” From then on, time and again, countless acts of harm were all brushed aside by him. The lawyer took the signed documents with relief. “Alicia, once the divorce is finalized, I’ll deliver it personally.” After he left, I was alone in the hospital room. Before long, the door was pushed open again. Talia walked in holding a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, smiling brightly. I trembled all over, instinctively shrinking back. “What are you doing here?” She casually tossed the flowers on the floor, her smile radiant yet venomous: “To send you off personally, of course!” “The explosion didn’t kill you, so I’ll have to do it myself.” Then she lunged onto the bed and grabbed my throat in a death grip. I struggled desperately. But having just survived severe burns, I was no match for Talia, who trained regularly. The air in my lungs rapidly depleted, and darkness closed in on my vision. Just as my consciousness was about to fade, the doctor making rounds burst in, screaming: “What are you doing! Stop!” In the chaos, I used my last bit of strength to grab the doctor’s hand. “Call… call the Wolf Council…” Then I blacked out completely. When I woke up again, Kael’s dark face filled my vision. He was suppressing his anger. “Alicia, why did you report this to the Wolf Council? Talia’s been taken away by them!” My heart felt like a sharp blade had been driven through it, the pain suffocating. “She just tried to strangle me to death!” Kael frowned. “I’ve told you before—Talia’s parents sacrificed themselves for my mother. She’s wounded inside but not fundamentally bad. She would never actually want you dead…” “Not actually want me dead?!” I cut him off sharply, three years of fear, grievance, and rage exploding all at once: “She locked me in a fire! She conspired with Rogues to ambush me! She created an explosion that did this to me, and just now she tried to strangle me!” “Which time wasn’t an attempt on my life? If that doctor hadn’t come in, I’d be dead! Don’t you understand?!” Kael sighed and reached out to hold me. I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me! This time I won’t back down. I will make sure she faces legal consequences!” Kael was silent for a moment, then his eyes grew resolute: “Talia and I grew up together. She’s just been spoiled and become willful. I’ll strictly discipline, criticize, and punish her.” “But I will never let her be imprisoned by the Wolf Council and have her life ruined!” Before I could react, his assistant stepped forward and placed a document in front of me. “Sign this, we’ll let bygones be bygones, and things can go back to how they were.” I stared at the glaring words “Settlement Agreement” and felt utterly absurd. “I won’t sign it!” “Talia lost her parents young and has never faced hardship like this. She can’t handle a place like prison.” “Alicia, be good.” “I said I won’t sign!” I practically shouted. The next second, the assistant roughly grabbed my arm and twisted it hard! “Ah!” Searing pain shot through my entire body. He forced my hand to sign the settlement, then pressed my finger into ink and stamped it down quickly! Kael stood nearby, watching quietly. Drenched in sweat, I looked up at this man I’d loved for years, my voice weak: “Kael… you’re doing this to me for her?” He turned to his assistant and instructed: “Call the doctor. Use the best medicine. Get her hand treated and take good care of her.”

Kael didn’t show up for the next few days, only sending a few messages daily. [I’ve been swamped with pack business lately, can’t get away.] [Don’t be mad. When you’re discharged, I’ll take you to the countryside to relax.] [Does your hand still hurt? Take care of yourself.] But right after each text arrived, Talia’s messages would follow. All photos of Kael by her side. Pouring her water, massaging her shoulders, even using that self-defense knife he never let me touch to peel an apple for her. That night, lying in my hospital bed, I suddenly felt an indescribable pain in my body and heart. The pain kept me from sleeping. Sensing something, I called Kael. The phone rang for a long time with no answer. After I hung up, Talia’s message immediately arrived. [Hehe, guess what we’re doing?] Below was a video. Just the thumbnail radiated an intensely intimate atmosphere. My hands trembling, I opened it. In the video, Talia was disheveled, flushed, leaning against the headboard. She suddenly got up and tightly wrapped her arms around Kael’s waist from behind, pressing her heated body against his broad back. “Kael… don’t go… I feel terrible… that wine… was too strong…” “If you leave… something bad will happen to me… please…” Kael’s steps halted abruptly. He looked back at Talia’s hazy eyes. Finally, he gritted his teeth and hung up on my call. He turned and helped Talia back onto the bed. “I can only stay until morning.” The video then plunged into darkness, with only a low growl and Talia’s satisfied soft laughter. I felt frozen to my core, clutching my phone, stubbornly dialing Kael’s number. All night long, over four hundred calls. Kael didn’t answer a single one. Not until the next day, when dawn broke, did I receive a few words: [I was handling an emergency pack situation last night.] I twisted my lips in a sardonic smile. So his “emergency situation” was having sex with another woman. The day I was discharged was my birthday. Kael personally came to pick me up and threw me a birthday party at a restaurant. The banquet hall was exquisitely decorated, and he stayed by my side the entire time. After cutting the cake, he gently fastened a custom-made pure gold necklace around my neck. It drew countless envious looks. But all I felt was that necklace pressing on my chest like a mountain. Midway through, I couldn’t breathe and got up to go to the restroom. Just as I reached the hallway corner, Talia blocked my path. “Well, well, if it isn’t tonight’s happiest woman, Alicia?” She leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her face full of mockery. I didn’t want to deal with her and turned to leave, but she quickly stepped forward to block me. “Kael values you so much—throwing you a party, giving you such an expensive necklace. You must be feeling pretty smug, right?” “But last time when you reported me to the Wolf Council, didn’t he force you to sign a settlement and get me out?” “Do you know how much Kael can’t live without me? We’ve been through everything together over the years! And yet you still shamelessly cling to him. Tell me, shouldn’t I hate you?” These words were like poisoned blunt knives, repeatedly torturing my already shattered heart. My face went pale. I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible. But she wouldn’t let it go, suddenly grabbing my hand, her nails digging into my flesh. “You didn’t die last time. Let’s see if your luck holds this time!”

As soon as she finished speaking, two burly werewolves emerged from the shadows in the hallway, grabbed me from both sides, and dragged me without question into an empty room on the top floor! I struggled in terror, but my strength was nothing against them. Talia’s eyes were vicious yet triumphant: “Alicia, since Kael likes you, I’ll destroy you completely! Let’s see if he’ll still want a mate who’s been ruined!” A sleazy-looking man walked toward the bed with a lecherous grin. I fought desperately, drowning in despair. Talia even pulled out her phone, ready to record everything! Just as that disgusting hand was about to touch my clothing, the door was kicked open with a bang! Kael stormed in like an enraged beast, radiating terrifying violence. Seeing me on the bed, restrained and disheveled, his eyes blazed with fury. With one clean shoulder throw, he instantly slammed the man approaching me to the ground. The guy didn’t even have time to scream before passing out. “Alicia!” He rushed over, released my restraints, and held me tightly in his arms. “Don’t be afraid! I’m here! It’s okay now…” The terror of narrowly escaping and overwhelming grievance burst through my defenses. I broke down crying in his arms. He scooped me up, carefully wrapping me in his coat, preparing to leave. As he passed Talia, his steps paused, his eyes cold: “Talia! I’ve tolerated your willful behavior before for your parents’ sake, but you dare use such despicable methods to hurt my wife!” “If anything had happened to Alicia today, I would never forgive you!” Talia was frightened by the undisguised killing intent in his eyes and stepped back, then shrieked as if wounded: “What are you going to do! Send me to prison?” “Fine! Kael, if you want my life, I’ll give it back to you right now!” With that, she unexpectedly pulled out a knife and thrust it toward her own chest! “Talia—!” Kael’s face went deathly pale. Almost instinctively, he dropped me and shot toward Talia like lightning! Caught off guard, I was thrown onto the cold, hard floor. My injuries were aggravated, sending waves of pain through my body. I struggled to get up, only to see Kael frantically carrying a blood-covered Talia and running out the door. I walked to the window and watched Kael rush out of the building carrying Talia, jump into his SUV. The engine roared violently as the vehicle sped away. Not once did he look back at me. I collapsed on the cold floor, watching the direction the car disappeared, my heart filled with nothing but endless desolation. Finally, I steadied myself, slowly stood up, and walked home alone. Kael had also returned. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so hard it felt like he’d crush my bones: “Talia’s bleeding internally. You’re the only nearby match for her blood type!” My vision went dark, blood rushing to my head. “No! Kael, have you lost your mind! Why should I save her?” But he gripped my arm tightly, his eyes pleading: “Alicia! Talia tried to kill herself because of what I said. I can’t let her die! She’s still young! Donating some blood won’t hurt you much. I’ll get the best doctors to help you recover and make it up to you tenfold later, okay?” I resisted hysterically, but in the end, he dragged me into the operating room and pressed me onto the surgical table! “Kael! I hate you!!” Before the anesthesia took effect, my cries became my last conscious memory.

When I woke up again, it was the next day. Kael was keeping watch by the bed. Seeing me open my eyes, he immediately came over: “Alicia, you’re awake?” He pulled out various expensive nutritional supplements, vitamins, and gifts, but I just stared numbly at the ceiling, my eyes vacant. That day, while Kael went out to buy me porridge, the recovered Talia snuck into my room. “Well, well, if it isn’t my lifesaver?” “Alicia, you’re so pathetic—unconscious for so long! Nearly all the blood in your body was transfused to me. Thanks to you, I survived.” I felt nothing but disgust and said hoarsely, “Get out.” She glared at me viciously. “A blood bank acting all high and mighty!” With that, she stormed out angrily. Shortly after, Kael burst into the room, immediately accusing me: “Alicia! Why did you bribe a nurse to poison Talia’s medication?!” I was baffled. “What?” “Talia said! You hate that I forced you to save her, so you bribed a nurse to add poison to her medicine, causing her to have a severe toxic reaction. She just barely survived the emergency room!” His tone was stern, filled with unquestionable accusation. “I didn’t!” Finally unable to take it anymore, I sat up abruptly, tears streaming down my face as I screamed: “Kael! I’ve had enough! Really had enough! You always only believe her! Always favor her! I was nearly killed by her! I’m covered in injuries!” “And you?! Besides forcing me to sign settlements, forcing me to donate blood, forcing me toward death, what have you ever done for me?!” “Your love makes me sick! Absolutely sick!” Kael froze. The door opened, and Talia leaned against the frame, her voice tearful: “Kael, you promised me! You said you’d hand her over to me for three days!” Kael looked at the weak Talia, intense struggle flashing in his eyes, but ultimately he agreed. “These three days, you cannot endanger Alicia’s life. That’s the bottom line!” “Don’t worry, I just want to teach her a lesson. I won’t kill her.” Talia immediately promised. I looked at him in disbelief. Kael was actually voluntarily handing me over to be tortured, just to appease Talia?! “Kael! You dare!!” I tried to get out of bed in terror. Talia waved her hand, and two burly men in work clothes entered, unceremoniously dragging my weakened body from the hospital bed. “Kael! Save me! No! I don’t want to go!” I cried out desperately, reaching toward him. But he just clenched his fists, stood in place, closed his eyes, and remained unmoved. For the next three days, I was held by Talia in a remote abandoned factory. She used every method to torture me. Whipping, sleep deprivation, forcing me to consume vomit—she exhausted every means to humiliate my body and dignity. Not until I was tortured to the brink of death did she stop and have someone dump me like garbage back at the emergency room. I don’t know how long I was unconscious. When I woke up, the doctor breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re finally awake! We almost lost you! You need to notify your family to come.” He returned my phone. As soon as the screen lit up, I saw an encrypted message from Luna Raven: “The divorce is finalized. Leave Kael quickly.” Thinking of Kael’s obsessive personality, I dialed Luna Raven’s private number and pleaded hoarsely, “Please help me forge a death certificate and use an unclaimed female corpse to replace me.” “If I suddenly disappear, Kael will definitely use every resource to search the world for me. Rather than endless entanglement, better to let him think I’m dead—a clean break. Also, I need you to find me a witch. I need to sever the mate bond with Kael.” Raven was silent for a moment, then finally relented. “Follow my people. I’ll handle the rest.” Under Raven’s arrangement, I left through the back door and headed straight to the airport. Meanwhile, Kael stared at his watch. The moment the three days were up, he immediately called Talia, his tone urgent: “Three days are up! Where’s Alicia? I warned you—no fatalities!” Talia’s voice was aggrieved. “You miss her that much? Don’t worry, I sent her back to the hospital.” Kael immediately drove over. Just as he reached the operating room door, the light went out. The doctor removed his mask and shook his head heavily. “Sir, I’m sorry for your loss. The patient was tortured beyond recognition, injuries too severe. We did everything we could.” Then a gurney covered with a white sheet was wheeled out. Boom—! Kael felt a roaring in his ears, his mind instantly blank. He violently pulled back a corner of the white sheet. “No—!!!”

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I once loved him for a full seven years. I loved him so much that even when his mistress pushed me off a building, I wouldn’t let him go. But he locked me in a psychiatric hospital and used electroshock therapy to strip away the last shred of my dignity. I cut open my brain, removed part of my hippocampus, and personally erased him from my memory completely. He held my “ashes” and went mad for three years, thinking I died in that car accident I staged for him. Until he traveled thousands of miles to Zurich and saw me living a radiant life. And I looked at him and only asked softly. “Sorry, who are you?” Polina’s POV When I woke up, I heard Ethan Harper on the phone, his voice gentle. “Lily, I’ve already suppressed the media coverage. No one will know you pushed her.” After hanging up, he met my gaze, his expression instantly turning cold. “You’re awake?” “Now that you’re awake, get this straight. Last night you slipped and fell on your own. Don’t say anything to the media. Lily scares easily, don’t frighten her.” She scares easily? If she scared so easily, she wouldn’t have pushed me off a building. I rolled down from a second-floor balcony and nearly died. And my fiancé Ethan Harper didn’t ask if I was in pain, but warned me not to ruin his beloved’s reputation. Last night, Ethan held Lily in his arms, kissed her forehead, and treasured her like a jewel. When I went up to confront them, Lily gave me a provocative smile, then suddenly leaned backward and grabbed onto my evening gown with all her strength. She was faking a fall, but dragging me into a real hell. “Ethan.” My voice was hoarse, and I couldn’t help but mock him. “Are you actually blind, or just pretending to be?” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “Polina, enough.” “Lily had too much to drink and lost her balance. Instead of helping her, you want to make a big scene out of this?” “The Harper family’s stock price can’t withstand this kind of scandal. It’s time you showed some sense.” Lily was the Harper family driver’s daughter. The Harpers adopted her as a child, and she enjoyed all of Ethan’s favoritism. And I was the heir to the White family, his rightful fiancée. Just because I came from a good family, he assumed I could bear anything. Even when I was hurt, I didn’t need comfort. Because Lily came from nothing, he felt that even a slight frown from her meant she’d suffered a terrible injustice. When I waited for him to cut my birthday cake, he was riding the Ferris wheel with Lily at an amusement park. When I was humiliated and belittled by the Harper family board of directors because of our arranged marriage, he flew into a rage because a server made Lily wait one second too long. When my appendix ruptured and I crashed my car into a guardrail from the pain, he was running all over the city to get macarons from another district because Lily mentioned wanting them. Because I had family background and dignity, I deserved to suffer grievances. “What if I refuse?” I stared at him, asking each word slowly and deliberately. Ethan’s expression turned completely dark. He stepped forward and gripped the wrist where my IV was attached. The needle shifted in my vein, and blood instantly flowed back into the IV tube, shockingly red. Cold sweat ran down my temples. But he acted as if he didn’t see that tube of backflowing blood. His fingers tightened mercilessly, his tone ice-cold. “Polina, don’t push me. As long as you behave, the position of fiancée is still yours.” “Otherwise, don’t blame me for being heartless.” My wrist throbbed with pain. More painful than the bone-deep ache was the instant my heart died. Just then, the hospital room door burst open. His assistant rushed in frantically. “Mr. Harper! Lily is having a panic attack in the next room. She won’t stop crying, and the doctor says her condition is bad!” Ethan’s face changed instantly. He immediately let go of my hand, not even leaving a single instruction, and rushed out. I watched that section of red backflow slowly stain the transparent IV tube. The hospital room door slammed shut before my eyes. I pulled the needle out of my hand myself and pressed down on the bleeding puncture site. It really hurt. But compared to watching Ethan go insane over another woman, this pain actually cleared my head. I picked up my phone and pulled up that webpage I’d browsed late at night a few days ago. A neuroscience center in Zurich. They had a very special procedure. Removing a small portion of hippocampal neurons could completely erase someone from your memory. Before, I always hesitated, feeling that although these seven years were bitter, I couldn’t bear to forget them entirely. After all, I truly had loved him. But now, I felt there was nothing worth keeping. I clicked on the appointment portal and filled out the application form. In the reason section, I only wrote: I don’t love him anymore. Even if I became a person without a past, I would never be Ethan Harper’s fiancée again.

Polina’s POV I stayed in the hospital for half a month. During that half month, Ethan didn’t show up once. I heard the nurses gossiping that Mr. Harper had been incredibly busy lately, keeping watch in the VIP ward every day. Because Lily was terrified and could only sleep at night if someone stayed with her. As for me, his fiancée, only his assistant came once to deliver a fruit basket, along with a message that Mr. Harper was very busy recently. On discharge day, no one came to pick me up. I didn’t care. I called a taxi myself. Before getting in the car, my phone received an email from Zurich. The doctor said my application had been approved. The surgery was scheduled for early next month. That meant I had less than twenty days to handle everything here. When I returned to the Harper villa, it was already three in the afternoon. As soon as I entered, I smelled a sweet, cloying cream scent. The living room was lively beyond belief. They were hosting an afternoon tea party. Lily wore that pink dress originally custom-made for me, sitting in the center like a princess surrounded by stars. Ethan sat right beside her, carefully cutting a piece of cream cake, with patience and tenderness I’d never received in seven years. I wore the hospital gown I’d brought back, carrying a large bag of medicine, looking completely out of place. The lively conversation suddenly stopped. Everyone’s eyes turned toward me. Ethan looked up. The moment he saw me, his brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” He pulled out a napkin to wipe his hands, his tone clearly displeased. I ignored him, changed my shoes, and headed upstairs. Since I’d decided to completely forget him, I didn’t even have the interest to argue with him anymore. But someone didn’t want to let me go. Nina held a wine glass and blocked the stairway. She was Lily’s friend, and notoriously snobbish in this circle. “Oh my, Polina’s back.” Nina wore a fake smile and pulled a jewelry box from her bag, shoving it into my hands without asking. “Lily was so badly frightened this time. Everyone’s giving her gifts to comfort her. You’re the one who caused this, so you have to personally give her this gift for the matter to be settled.” I was about to push it away when Nina pressed my hands down firmly, deliberately raising her voice. “Polina, so many people are watching. Surely you won’t refuse to give Mr. Harper this much face?” Ethan also looked over, his gaze pressing down on me heavily. “Polina, don’t make a scene.” I looked at him, then at the thing in my hands, and suddenly felt it was all rather pointless. I walked up to Lily with the jewelry box. “Take it.” Lily timidly glanced at Ethan before extending both hands to receive it. Just as I released my grip, her hands suddenly recoiled as if electrocuted. Crash! The jewelry box fell heavily onto the marble floor. A sharp sound. The contents had broken. It was a custom diamond necklace, now shattered into several pieces. “Ah!” Lily cried out, clutching her chest as she fell back onto the sofa, tears instantly flooding out. “I’m sorry… Polina, I’m sorry… I’m so clumsy, I didn’t catch it…” As she cried, she displayed the bandage wrapped around her wrist. “My hand hasn’t healed yet… It’s all my fault…” The socialites around us exploded. “Oh my God, that was expensive! Nina spent a fortune on it!” “Polina is so vicious! If she didn’t want to give it, fine, but why deliberately smash it?” “Exactly. So petty, can’t even tolerate an adopted daughter. What a disgrace to the White family.” Accusations and curses surged toward me like a tide. Ethan stood up, looking at me coldly. “Polina, apologize to Lily.” “I didn’t drop it.” I looked at him calmly. “She pulled her hands back herself.” “Enough!” Ethan cut me off sharply. “So many people saw it. You still want to deny it? Is this how the White family taught you to behave?” I looked at this man I’d loved for seven years and suddenly felt utterly disgusted. “No need.” I kicked aside the diamonds at my feet. “I won’t apologize. And I’ll vacate this place for you.” “I’m moving out.” With that, I ignored the uproar behind me and turned to go upstairs.

Polina’s POV I ignored the accusations behind me and went straight to the master bedroom on the second floor. The moment I pushed open the door, I froze. My vanity table was piled with unfamiliar bottles and jars. My skincare products had been shoved into a corner, and several bottles had been opened and used, their caps not even screwed back on. In the walk-in closet, several of my current-season gowns had disappeared, replaced by pink dresses still with their tags on, hanging brazenly in the most prominent positions. Even though I’d already decided to leave, seeing this scene made my stomach churn. Lily had long since reached into my private space. And none of this could have happened without Ethan’s tacit approval. I took out a travel bag and started packing. As for the jewelry, designer bags, and other things Ethan had given me, I didn’t touch a single one. Just as I zipped up my suitcase, the door was pushed open without a knock. Lily stood in the doorway, still holding the robe she’d taken from my closet. Seeing my suitcase, the triumph in her eyes was undisguised. “Polina, are you moving out?” She leaned against the doorframe, smiling. “This room has great lighting. Ethan said I’ve been in poor health lately and wants me to move in to recuperate.” I ignored her and pulled my suitcase toward the door. As I passed her, I said coldly, “Move.” But Lily suddenly changed her expression. She grabbed my arm, her voice instantly switching to a tearful plea, loud enough for the entire second floor to hear. “Polina, don’t leave! It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have made you angry. Please don’t go!” While crying and shouting, she dug her nails hard into my arm. The sharp pain made me instinctively shake her off. “Get off me!” I barely used any force. But Lily acted like she was made of paper, crying out and falling backward. This happened to be the landing at the top of the stairs. Her body tilted, and she rolled down. “Lily!” Ethan, who’d heard the commotion downstairs, rushed up just in time to see this scene. He practically lunged to catch Lily, then looked up at me. That look. Like he was looking at a murderer. “Polina, how can you be so vicious?” Someone nearby who hadn’t left yet laughed. “Who would have thought the White family heir had zero tolerance for others. No wonder the White family went bankrupt. Whoever marries her is doomed.” I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of the Harper villa without looking back. That night I checked into a boutique hotel. My phone rang. It was Ethan. I answered, but it was Ethan’s grandfather, Victor Harper, on the other end. “Polina, have you finalized the wedding venue yet? I’m waiting to attend your wedding.” My throat tightened, and tears nearly fell. In the entire Harper family, only Victor truly cared about me. “Grandpa…” I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m not going through with this wedding.” There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. Then Ethan took the phone. “Polina, what are you making a fuss about now?” His voice remained arrogant. “What nonsense are you telling Grandpa? Where are you?” “I’m watching a TV show.” I made up a random lie. “Alright, stop being difficult.” “There’s a watch on my study desk. It was supposed to be an apology gift for you. Since you’ve left, come back and get it when you have time.” He hung up directly. The next day, his assistant delivered the watch to the hotel. “Miss White, Mr. Harper said this is a Patek Philippe he’s had custom-made for three years. It’s one of a kind. He asks that you stop being temperamental.” The assistant left after setting down the box. I opened it. It truly was an exquisite watch, with a full diamond dial, sparkling brilliantly. Ethan once said that time was the most expensive thing in the world, and his time belonged only to me. I took out the watch and turned it over. On the back, clearly engraved in script, was a line: For Lily. I stood frozen, then laughed out loud. What “custom-made for three years,” what “one of a kind.” This watch was originally meant for Lily all along. Ethan Harper, you truly disgust me. This so called devotion had been a love triangle from the start. I wiped away my tears and threw the watch back in the box. I took out my phone and permanently blocked Ethan. Then I called a luxury goods consignment shop. “I have several watches and pieces of jewelry to sell. I need cash quickly, the faster the better.” Selling this garbage, plus my savings, would be enough for the surgery fees in Switzerland. I wanted to dig everything about him out of my brain completely.

Polina’s POV The night I left the Harper villa, I contacted a luxury consignment store. I dumped all the jewelry Ethan had given me onto the counter. The owner, wearing gloves to examine the pieces, couldn’t take his eyes off them. “These are all excellent pieces. Especially this pink diamond. It was the Harper family’s auction item last year, wasn’t it? Are you sure you want to sell everything? You’ll take a big hit on the value.” “Sell everything. Buy them outright, don’t go through consignment. I need the money urgently.” I signed the papers and looked at the bank card now loaded with a substantial sum. Combined with my own savings from recent years, it would be enough for the surgery fees in Switzerland and living expenses afterward. After finishing all this, I found an inconspicuous hotel to stay in. I’d planned to wait quietly until surgery day and disappear completely. But Ethan clearly had no intention of letting me go. On the third afternoon, I was sitting on the hotel bed organizing visa materials when Ethan’s assistant suddenly called. “Miss White, Mr. Harper requests that you go to the private hospital immediately.” I didn’t hesitate before hanging up. “I’m not available.” Since we were done, I had no obligation to be at his beck and call. The other end paused, then spoke with some arrogance. “Mr. Harper said if you don’t arrive within half an hour, your mother’s special medication and caregiver fees at the nursing home will be immediately suspended by finance.” My hand shook violently, and the phone nearly slipped. After the White family went bankrupt, Mother couldn’t handle the shock and had a mental breakdown. She’d been staying in an expensive private nursing home ever since. It was her lifeline, and my only weakness. Ethan’s knife cut precisely where it hurt most. “I understand.” I hung up, grinding my teeth. Half an hour later, I arrived at the hospital’s VIP floor. As soon as the elevator doors opened, a strong smell of disinfectant hit me. Ethan stood at the end of the corridor, his face terrifyingly dark. Seeing me arrive, he said nothing, just strode over and grabbed my wrist. “Polina, how long are you going to keep this up?” He stared at me, his eyes looking at me like a criminal. “Lily’s severe depression relapsed. She just slit her wrists in there and is being resuscitated.” “Was it you who contacted the gossip media? Spreading rumors online to provoke her, saying she’s a homewrecker who stole someone’s position? Do you want to drive her to death?” He shook me until I felt dizzy. I only found it absurd. “Ethan Harper, have you lost your mind? I haven’t even left my room these past two days, and I haven’t been online.” “Still lying!” Nina suddenly rushed up, shoving her phone in my face, the screen nearly poking into my eyes. “Polina, the evidence is right here and you’re still pretending! All those gossip outlets say Polina White leaked the information! Who else could it be but you?” Just as I was about to speak, the hospital room door suddenly opened. Lily rushed out barefoot. Her hair was disheveled, her wrists wrapped in blood-stained bandages, her entire being in a state of hysteria. “It was you! You want to kill me! I’m not a homewrecker! I truly love Ethan!” She screamed, grabbed a glass water cup from the cabinet by the door, and hurled it at me with all her strength. I was being held tightly by Ethan’s grip on my wrist and couldn’t dodge. The glass smashed hard into my temple and shattered. Searing pain hit me. Warm liquid flowed down along my brow bone, instantly blurring my left eye. My vision turned blood-red. I swayed, barely able to stand. “Lily!” Ethan cried out, released me to catch the swaying Lily. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” He held Lily protectively in his arms, soothing her gently. When he turned to look at me with blood all over my face, his eyes filled with disgust. “Go get bandaged!” He shouted harshly, “Don’t bleed here and frighten Lily, or I’ll make the White family pay the price!” I wiped the blood flowing into my eye with my hand. Looking at this pair before me, I suddenly didn’t want to explain anymore. There was nothing to explain. I was going to forget it all anyway.

Polina’s POV After treating the wound on my forehead, the nurse was about to bandage me. Ethan pushed the door open. Two bodyguards followed him, along with a doctor I didn’t recognize. The doctor held a report and looked at me with some sympathy. “Mr. Harper, based on the stress reaction just now and past medical history, Miss White has typical paranoid personality disorder, accompanied by severe persecution delusion.” “If not intervened immediately, she may pose a life threat to others.” I laughed. So in that earlier scene, my non-resistance was guilt, and my resistance made me insane. “Ethan Harper, what are you trying to do?” I stood up, still clutching the blood-stained gauze. Ethan didn’t look at me, only coldly instructed the bodyguards. “Take her away.” “I’m not going! Ethan Harper, this is illegal detention!” I struggled desperately, knocking over the treatment tray. But this only confirmed my supposed mania. Two bodyguards grabbed me from both sides, dragged me out of the emergency room, and shoved me into an SUV. The car didn’t return to the Harper villa but drove toward a fully enclosed private psychiatric rehabilitation center in the suburbs. It was a place specifically for confining disobedient people from wealthy families. I was taken into a padded room. No windows, no sharp objects, only a treatment bed with restraint straps. Ethan walked in, looking at me tied to the bed. “Polina, you’re ill.” His tone was calm. “The doctor says you have severe pathological jealousy. Your recent resistance, attempts to escape, and the attack on Lily just now are all symptoms of your condition.” “I’m not sick! You’re the one who’s insane!” I screamed, my wrists rubbed raw by the restraints. “I want to break up! Can’t I just stop loving you? Let me go!” “It seems quite serious.” Ethan shook his head, taking a document the director handed him. A forced medical custody consent form. In the guardian section, he smoothly signed his name. “Treat her. When she’s willing to admit her mistake, then stop.” The so-called treatment was actually electrical stimulation. The doctor placed cold electrode patches on my temples. “Ethan Harper! You bastard!” “Begin.” He turned his back, unwilling to watch my humiliation. The instant the current penetrated my nerves, the intense pain left me unable to even scream. It felt like countless needles were frantically stirring inside my brain, shredding my reason and dignity. I could even smell my hair burning. “Will you admit you pushed Lily?” he asked over the sound of the electrical current. I bit through my lip and said nothing. Increase the current. Three full days. I was injected with sedatives, lying in bed like a waste of space, even needing nursing staff assistance to use the bathroom. That shame of having my dignity as a human being completely stripped away hurt more than physical pain, driving me to despair. And in this despair, the last shred of love I had for Ethan Harper was finally uprooted completely and died. Three days later, I was allowed to be discharged. Walking out that door, the sunlight hurt my eyes so much I couldn’t open them. My face was deathly pale, and I needed to lean against the wall even to stand. Ethan stood by the car waiting for me. Seeing me come out, he walked over to help, his tone becoming gentle. “Feeling better? I did this for your own good. As long as you behave from now on and stop making trouble, this won’t happen again.” I lowered my eyes, hiding the deathly ash in them. I didn’t avoid his hand, but nodded numbly instead. “I understand.” Ethan smiled with satisfaction. Seeing me compliant, he confidently let go. “Have the driver take you home. Rest well.” He got into another car. Watching his departing figure, I dug my palm hard under my sleeve.

Polina’s POV The night I returned from the rehabilitation center, Ethan unexpectedly ate dinner at home. I sat across from him, quietly cutting my steak. This peacefulness pleased Ethan greatly. He poured me a glass of red wine, his tone like rewarding an obedient pet. “There’s a charity auction gala tomorrow night. You’ll attend as my date. The rumors outside haven’t been good lately. We need to make an appearance to dispel the gossip about your mental instability.” If this were before, I would have thrown the wine glass in his face. But now I only set down my knife and fork and nodded. “Okay.” Ethan looked at me with some surprise, then walked over and patted my head. “Good girl. As long as you stay this sensible, Lily won’t hold your previous misunderstandings against you.” The next evening, the banquet hall was resplendent. I wore the dress Ethan had chosen, sitting quietly in a corner. Even when people around me pointed and whispered, calling me a lunatic who’d just finished psychiatric treatment, I didn’t even raise an eyelid. Until Nina walked over with a glass of red wine. She was Lily’s friend and still held a grudge about the broken necklace incident. “If it isn’t Polina? I heard you just finished psychiatric treatment?” Nina deliberately raised her voice, drawing everyone’s attention. “Why so quiet? Did the electroshock therapy make you stupid? Or have you forgotten who the real master of this circle is?” Seeing I wouldn’t respond, a flash of malice crossed Nina’s eyes. She pretended to walk past, then flicked her wrist. A glass of red wine splashed directly onto my dress, running down my thighs. “Oops, my hand slipped.” Nina covered her mouth, laughing without sincerity, waiting for me to lose it. “Polina won’t be angry, will she? You’re a mental patient now. If you go crazy and hit someone in public, they’ll have to take you back for more treatment.” She wanted to provoke me, to watch me make a scene in front of everyone. But I only looked down at the wine stain on my dress, my face showing no emotion. I didn’t even furrow my brow. “It’s fine.” I picked up a napkin from nearby and wiped the wine that had splattered on the back of my hand, my tone as calm as discussing the weather. “It’s just a dress. When it’s dirty, you throw it away.” Just like some people and things that had become dirty. Nina froze, making herself look like a clown. Ethan, who’d been observing from a distance, walked over. He saw this scene, but he didn’t blame Nina. Instead, he seemed satisfied with my reaction. He put his arm around my shoulder, saying quietly, “Go change. Well done.” He thought it was calmness after treatment. Only I knew it was numbness after my heart died. Where he couldn’t see, my nails had dug deep into my palm, but I felt no pain. I could feel the countdown ticking away in my mind. Late at night, Ethan went to shower. From the hidden compartment of an old stuffed animal no one noticed, I retrieved the backup phone I’d hidden earlier. It was my only escape route. The screen lit up. An email from the Swiss neuroscience center lay there quietly. “Miss White, your surgery appointment is confirmed. Please be sure to arrive in Zurich on time.”

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I loved Leah Williams for twelve years. I gave her everything. A bullet from her brother’s true killer has been lodged in my spine for three years, causing me unbearable pain. Yet she treated the real murderer like family and me like a dog, forcing me to kneel and watching me suffer endless humiliation. Clinging to my last breath, I only wanted to give her the truth before I died. she pushed me into the abyss herself,smiling as she said I deserved it. Only when I cut open my own chest and dug out that blood-soaked bullet did she finally panic. And I no longer had the strength to look at her one more time. Silas POV I loved Leah Williams for twelve years. From the day the Williams family brought me back as a bodyguard at eighteen, I gave her everything. For these twelve years, I’d taken knives for her, drinks for her, and in that kidnapping case, I’d shielded her from everything. But now, I was just a dog at her feet, beaten and cursed at will. “Silas, kneel down.” Leah sat on the sofa, looking at me with eyes that held none of the love from years past. Only hatred. Standing beside her was the scholarship student she sponsored, and also her deceased brother Ethan’s best friend, Zane Sullivan. Zane wore a pair of limited-edition sneakers splattered with mud, looking at me with feigned innocence. “Leah, Silas was head of security after all. Making him clean my shoes seems a bit much. I can just wipe them with a tissue myself.” “What does he have to complain about?” Leah glanced at me, her eyes full of disgust. “When Ethan died, he said he’d spend his whole life making it up to me. Now I’m just asking him to clean a shoe. Do I need to beg him?” I stood there, the bullet lodged near the major artery in my spine throbbing with dull pain, pressing on my optic nerve and making my vision blur with double images. Whenever Ethan was mentioned, she lost control. I didn’t blame her. Because I also hated myself for failing to save Ethan. He was Leah’s own brother, and someone I’d desperately tried but failed to save. No one knew that shot wasn’t a stray bullet. It was deliberately fired by Zane, the man now sitting beside her, in the chaos. The only evidence was that bullet with its distinctive rifling marks. To keep Zane from destroying it, I’d forced myself to leave it lodged in my spine. It pressed on my nerves, making surgery impossible. Removing it meant death. Not removing it also meant death. I swallowed the metallic taste in my throat and offered no resistance, slowly bending my knees. I lowered my head and reached out to clean Zane’s shoes. My vision blurred again. A precursor to blindness. I gritted my teeth and used my sleeve to wipe the mud spots from the edges of Zane’s shoes. “What a good dog.” Leah looked down at me from above, her eyes full of revulsion. She pulled Zane up to head upstairs. “Zane, let’s go upstairs. Don’t let him ruin the mood.” “Okay, Leah.” As Zane passed me, his foot ground hard into the back of my hand. The pain pierced through me, but I didn’t make a sound. Only after I heard the door close upstairs did I collapse on the floor, gasping for breath. I fumbled in my pocket for that critical condition notice. Vital organ failure. Less than a month to live. Leah. When I’m dead and they remove that bullet, you’ll know the truth. In the middle of the night, the bullet in my spine began pressing on my nerves. The pain made me break out in cold sweat. I crawled up from the storage room and felt my way to the bathroom. My vision still hadn’t recovered. I could only see blurred gray shadows. I stumbled to the medicine cabinet above the sink, hands trembling as I searched for the heavy-duty painkillers. The doctor had prescribed them, saying they’d help me go more peacefully. Found them. Just as I breathed a sigh of relief, the weight in my hand disappeared. Someone had taken the pill bottle. “Silas, up in the middle of the night looking for candy?” Zane’s voice echoed eerily in the bathroom. I forced down the excruciating pain and reached out my hand. “Give it to me.” “Give it to you?” Zane laughed lightly, shaking the pill bottle in his hand. “These are prescription drugs with morphine, Silas. Taking too many isn’t good for the brain.” “Zane!” I gritted my teeth. “Give me the medicine!” If I didn’t take it, I’d die from the pain tonight. Zane walked to the toilet and, right in front of me, unscrewed the cap. He poured the pills into the toilet. “Oops, my hand slipped.” Zane turned around, a malicious smile on his face. “Silas, you don’t have many days left anyway. Just tough it out, right? Saves wasting resources.” Rage instantly overwhelmed the pain. I lunged forward and grabbed Zane by the collar, slamming him hard against the tile wall. “You’re asking for it!” “Help! Leah! Help!” Zane suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs. The door was kicked open and Leah rushed in. Without thinking, she raised her hand and slapped me across the face.

Silas POV The slap knocked my head to the side, my ears ringing, my already blurred vision growing even darker. “Silas! Have you lost your mind?” Leah shoved me aside and anxiously pulled Zane behind her, checking his neck. “Zane, are you hurt? Does it hurt anywhere?” Zane’s eyes reddened. “I just saw Silas wasn’t feeling well in the middle of the night and wanted to get him some water. But he said I was being fake and tried to kill me.” “I didn’t.” I endured the nearly fracturing pain in my spine, my voice hoarse. “He threw away my medicine.” “Enough!” Leah cut me off coldly, her eyes disappointed. “Don’t I know what kind of person he is? But you, Silas, ever since Ethan died, you’ve become twisted!” She glanced at the empty spot on the sink where the pill bottle had been and sneered. “Medicine? What medicine? I think you’re just having drug cravings.” I opened my mouth, but in the end could only close my eyes bitterly. What was the point of explaining? In her eyes, I was nothing but a lowlife who’d sell out her brother just to survive. “Since you have so much energy, go clear your head.” Leah pointed at the pitch-black rainy night outside the window. “Go stand in the yard. Don’t come back without my permission.” Zane hid behind her, revealing a triumphant smile. I took a deep breath, suppressing the blood churning in my chest. “Yes.” I braced myself against the wall to stand straight, trying not to let her see my trembling legs. I turned and walked into the pouring rain. The ice-cold rain pelted my body, the bone-chilling cold slightly easing the burning in my spine. I stood in the mud, facing Leah’s bedroom window. The lights blazed there. I could vaguely see Leah drying Zane’s hair, her movements so gentle it made my eyes sting. Once, that tenderness had belonged only to me. I couldn’t help touching my chest. Twenty-eight days left. Leah, I hope these twenty-eight days pass quickly. Even faster. I stood in the rain all night. Just before dawn, I couldn’t hold on anymore. Everything went black and I collapsed into the muddy water. When I woke again, I was in the hospital emergency room. I moved my fingers and found myself lying on a simple hospital bed with an IV drip in my hand. “Awake?” A cool voice came. Leah sat in a chair beside me, peeling an apple. She didn’t look at me, just focused on peeling the apple. “The doctor said you had low blood sugar and caught a chill. Didn’t manage to die.” She cut off a piece of the peeled apple, but instead of giving it to me, turned to hand it to someone on the next bed. Only then did I notice Zane was also in this hospital room. He wore a patient gown, his face ruddy, eating the apple Leah fed him with relish. “Thank you, Leah. So sweet.” Zane swallowed a bite of apple and turned to look at me with false concern. “Silas, really, you shouldn’t push yourself when you’re not well. Last night you collapsed in the yard. If Leah hadn’t found you early, you might actually be dead.” Watching this scene, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. I was the one who’d stood in the rain until I collapsed last night. But now, the one receiving care and concern was him. I spoke, my throat as hoarse as if I’d swallowed sand. “I want water.” Leah paused. She set down the fruit knife, pulled out a tissue and casually wiped her hands, sneering. “Water? Don’t you have hands?” “Leah, Silas still has a fever…” Zane offered fake advice from the side. “Let him burn to death for all I care.” Leah stood up, looking at me. “Silas, do you know what else the doctor said?” She walked to my bedside, her tone ice-cold. “The doctor said all your internal indicators are completely messed up, like you’ve been taking some kind of psychiatric medication long-term. So tell me, are you really having drug cravings?” My heart jumped. Had the doctor made up that lie to cover the inflammatory response caused by the bullet in my spine? Or had Zane already bribed the doctor? I looked at Zane. He was winking at me, pointing at the door. In that instant, I saw a figure in a white coat flash by the doorway. The attending physician Zane had bought off. “I’m not addicted to drugs.” I defended myself weakly. “You know the truth yourself.” Leah straightened up, the last trace of warmth disappearing from her eyes. “Silas, you disgust me. How could Ethan have idolized someone like you?” “Since you’re not dead, stop wasting money at the hospital. Pull out the IV and go buy Zane a sandwich. He didn’t get to rest last night because he had to bring you to the hospital.”

Silas POV I looked at the IV bag still more than half full overhead. It was antibiotics, life sustaining for my current condition. But I said nothing. I reached out and directly pulled the needle from the back of my hand. Blood immediately gushed out, dripping along my fingertips onto the white sheets. “I’ll go buy it.” I pressed the still-bleeding back of my hand and shakily stood up, gripping the bed frame. Everything went black again. I leaned against the wall, shuffling out step by step. Behind me came the sound of Leah peeling an orange, and her gentle murmur to Zane. “Eat slowly, don’t choke.” As I reached the door, I couldn’t help looking back. Leah was feeding a segment of orange into Zane’s mouth, smiling warmly. That smile I’d once dreamed of protecting. I turned and walked into the bustling hospital corridor. I leaned against the wall corner, gasping for breath, pressing hard on the old scar over my chest. Soon. Ethan, wait a little longer for me. Once I return this life to the Williams family, I’ll come to heaven and keep you company. On the anniversary of Ethan’s death. The sky was overcast and the cemetery very quiet. Leah held a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, standing before the headstone. I stood three steps behind her. This weather made my body ache more and more. I could only keep my back rigidly straight to keep from collapsing. Zane stood at Leah’s side. “Ethan, Leah and I came to see you.” Zane crouched down, his fingers brushing over the young face in the photo on the headstone, his voice choking. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of Leah for you.” Leah’s eyes reddened slightly as she reached out to pat Zane’s shoulder, as if comforting him. I looked at the photo of Ethan smiling brilliantly. Three years ago, also on a rainy day like this, he’d gradually grown cold in my arms, calling out before he died, “Silas, run…” “Silas, you come kneel before Ethan too.” Leah suddenly spoke, her voice cold. “Make him kneel? As if he’s worthy?” Zane suddenly grew agitated, turning to glare at me. “If he hadn’t been such a coward, how would Ethan have died!” “Zane.” Leah stopped him, though her tone held no reproach. “Let him kneel. This is what he owes Ethan.” I said nothing and silently walked forward. My knees bent, falling heavily onto the hard stone pavement. I lowered my head deeply before the headstone. Ethan, I came to see you. Just as I was about to stand up, Zane suddenly cried out, “Ah! My foot!” He fell backward. Zane’s head hit the steps beside him, blood immediately flowing down. “Zane!” Leah’s face changed dramatically. She shoved me aside and rushed over to hold Zane. “What happened? Are you okay?” “Leah… I’m fine… Silas, I know you’re resentful. But how could you push me?” “I didn’t push him.” I knelt there, feeling only absurd. “Didn’t push him? So he fell on his own?” Leah whipped around, her eyes blazing with hatred. “Silas, you used to just be a coward, but now you’ve become this despicable! Attacking someone in front of Ethan. What kind of person are you?” “I really didn’t-” Slap! Another slap struck hard across my face. This one was especially heavy, making my ears ring and everything go black before my eyes. “Apologize!” Leah pointed at the blood-covered Zane and shouted, “Kneel and apologize to Zane! Until he forgives you!” I froze. Kneel to Zane? “No.” This was the first time in three years I’d defied her orders. “What did you say?” Leah looked at me incredulously. “I can kneel to Ethan. I’ll even kneel here until I die.” I raised my head, looking directly into Leah’s eyes filled with fury, my voice hoarse but firm. “But I will never kneel to Zane.” Because he didn’t deserve it. “Good. Very good.” Leah laughed in extreme anger. She stood up, her high heel grinding hard into my kneeling shin bone, crushing it with force. “Silas, since your bones are so hard, then keep kneeling here until you’ve thought things through!” She helped Zane up and walked down the mountain without looking back. “Leah, Silas he…” Zane was still pretending to plead for me. “Shut up! Don’t plead for this ungrateful dog!” Their figures gradually disappeared into the rain. In the vast cemetery, only I remained. The rain fell harder and harder, soaking through my clothes and chilling my heart. The excruciating pain in my spine mixed with the pain in my crushed shin, making everything go black before my eyes. I turned my head to look at Ethan’s smiling face on the headstone. I don’t know how long passed before the wound on my forehead split open, blood mixing with rain flowing into my eyes. I still didn’t kneel to Zane. I faced Ethan’s photo and once again lowered my head deeply. This time, it was for myself. When the time comes, I’ll repay you with this life and return the truth to you.

Silas POV That night, I didn’t return to the villa. I sat all night on a hospital bench. The wound on my hand was simply bandaged. At three in the morning, a violent coughing fit woke me. A metallic sweetness surged up my throat. I covered my mouth, coughing my lungs out. Opening my palm, I saw a pool of horrifying black blood. This was a sign my organs were beginning to fail. The bullet in my spine had compressed too long. Toxins had already invaded my bloodstream. My body was long past the point of collapse. “Mr. Sterling, you really can’t delay any longer.” The doctor on duty was a young man, not the one Zane had bribed. Looking at my examination report, his brow furrowed tight. “If we don’t operate immediately to remove the foreign object, you could die suddenly at any time. We must notify your family to sign immediately.” I smiled bitterly. I had no family. My only relatives were the Williams siblings. But now, Leah wished I were dead. “No need.” I pulled a pen from my pocket and on that flimsy critical condition notice, signed my own name. The handwriting was a bit crooked because my vision was starting to blur again. “I’ll sign myself.” The doctor froze. “But this surgery has extremely high risks, the mortality rate-” “I’m not having surgery.” I interrupted him, handing back the notice. “Just prescribe me those painkillers. Preferably something that keeps me alert.” Even if it was just a last burst of energy before death. I still had one last thing to do. Leaving the hospital as dawn was breaking. I called my old friend in forensic medicine, Nathan Cole. “Nathan, I need a favor.” On the other end, Nathan’s voice was groggy. “Early morning call, what’s up?” “In a month, I might be dead.” I spoke calmly. “When that happens, I need you to personally perform my autopsy.” Deathly silence on the other end. After a long while, Nathan finally cursed through gritted teeth. “Silas, what the hell are you talking about?” “I’m not crazy. There’s something in my spine. Only you can remove it, and only you dare tell the truth.” I looked at the rising sun, but felt no warmth. “It’s the truth about Ethan’s death. Nathan, I’m begging you.” After hanging up, I took a deep breath, pulled out my SIM card, snapped it in half, and threw it in the trash. When I returned to the villa, Leah was sitting at the dining table eating breakfast. Seeing me come in looking haggard, her hand holding the spoon paused. A flash of barely perceptible panic crossed her eyes, but was quickly covered by coldness. “Gone all night-getting bold, aren’t we?” She spoke coldly, her gaze falling on my bandaged hand, her brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. “What happened to your hand?” I instinctively hid my hand behind my back. “Nothing. Just accidentally cut it.” “Good thing it’s nothing.” Zane came out of the kitchen carrying hot milk. Seeing me, he immediately put on a friendly face. “Silas is back? Perfect timing. The champagne spill from last night hasn’t been cleaned up yet. The cleaner called in sick, so I’ll have to trouble Silas.” Leah said nothing, just lowered her head to have her oatmeal. Tacit approval. I looked at the floor covered in glass shards and dried wine stains, nausea rising in my stomach. But I didn’t object. “Okay.” I agreed and turned to get the broom. The instant I turned, everything went black and I fell forward uncontrollably. Bang! My forehead slammed hard into the door frame. “Silas!” Behind me came the harsh sound of a chair scraping. Leah had almost instantly stood up, her voice carrying a tremor she herself didn’t notice. “What’s wrong with you?” I lay on the floor. It took several seconds before I could barely prop up my body. My vision slowly recovered a bit. I saw Leah standing two steps away from me, her hand extended in mid-air as if wanting to help me, but then rigidly pulled back. “Didn’t sleep well. My blood sugar’s low.” I supported myself on the door frame and stood up, forcing out an ugly smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t die.” Leah flinched as if stung. The panic in her eyes quickly faded, becoming hard again. “Who’s worried about you?” She sat back down and picked up her spoon, but didn’t take another bite. “Since you’re not dead, get to work. Stop being an eyesore here.” I nodded and took the broom toward the living room. Behind me, Zane said quietly, “Leah, look at him, acting like nothing happened. Definitely faking again.” Leah didn’t respond. But I could feel a complicated gaze fixed on my back. Leah, if one day you knew what kind of pain I endured while sweeping for you, would you feel even a little bit sorry?

Silas POV On the weekend, Leah had a sudden impulse to go to the equestrian club. Zane naturally accompanied her, and as her bodyguard, even with only half a breath left, I had to follow. The equestrian club was in the suburbs with beautiful scenery. Leah wore a sharp red riding outfit, her hair pulled high, looking spirited and heroic. That was her favorite look from before. Confident and bold, like a flame. “Silas, go bring my horse.” She flicked her riding crop, chin slightly raised. Her horse was a spirited black stallion that used to only respond to her and me. But these past few years my health had deteriorated, so I rarely touched it. Enduring the discomfort in my spine, I walked into the stable. For some reason today, my vision was very unstable, flickering between light and dark. When I led out Shadowwind, it snorted restlessly, hooves pawing the ground uneasily. I reached out to calm it, not noticing that someone had tampered with the girth under the saddle. It hung loose. “What’s taking so long?” Zane called from nearby. “Leah’s getting impatient!” I led the horse over. “Silas, I want to try riding Shadowwind today. Leah said I could.” Zane walked over with an innocent smile, reaching for the reins. The instant his hand touched the reins, something between his fingertips discreetly pricked the horse’s neck. Shadowwind spooked! It reared up on its hind legs with a shrieking whinny. “Watch out!” Almost instinctively, I lunged toward Leah, who was closest to the horse. In that moment, my world suddenly plunged into complete darkness. Not the blackouts from before, but true pitch darkness. I’d gone blind. I could only rely on what little hearing and memory remained to shield Leah in my arms, using my back to take a heavy kick from the panicked horse. The clear sound of bones cracking exploded in my chest. I grunted, a mouthful of blood surging from my throat and spraying onto Leah’s riding outfit. But I still held her tightly until the stable hands controlled the horse. “Silas! Have you lost your mind!” Leah pushed me away in shock, her face turning deathly pale at the sight of blood on her clothes. She frantically tried to check my injuries. Her hand had just touched my shoulder when she heard Zane’s scream from beside us. “Ow… my leg… it hurts so much…” Zane sat on the grass clutching his knee. In reality he’d only scraped it slightly while dodging. Leah’s hand froze. She looked at me, then at the wailing Zane. Finally, she bit her lip and withdrew her hand. “What happened? Can’t even handle a horse properly!” She stood up and hurried toward Zane, her tone anxious. “Zane, where are you hurt? Let me see!” I lay on the grass, my ribs likely broken and piercing my lung. Every breath carried a strong taste of blood. I tried to get up, but the pitch darkness made me lose all sense of direction. I reached out my hand bewilderedly, trying to grab onto something for support, but grasped only empty air. “Leah…” I called out instinctively. “Shut up!” Leah didn’t look back, examining Zane’s wound, her tone full of irritation and disappointment. “Silas, you’re truly useless now. Not just your body, but have you lost all sense of right and wrong too? Did you deliberately spook the horse to try to kill Zane?” I smiled bitterly, blood foam choking in my throat, triggering a violent coughing fit. “I can’t see…” I said softly, my voice so quiet only I could hear it. “What did you say?” Leah seemed to hear something and glanced back at me. “Silas, stop playing dead.” She commanded in a harsh tone. “Stand up. Don’t embarrass yourself here.” I listened to her voice, trying hard to focus, but couldn’t find her direction no matter what. Before I could at least see blurry light and shadow. Now, there was nothing. I felt around the ground, my fingers digging into the dirt, using the leverage to prop up my body bit by bit. “That’s right, Leah.” I still didn’t look at her, but faced the empty sky with a smile uglier than crying. “I’ve become blind.” “From now on, I probably really won’t be able to lead your horse anymore.” Leah froze.

Silas POV I didn’t go to the hospital about going blind. Or rather, it wouldn’t help even if I went. The damage was irreversible. Until three nights later, deep in the night. I was leaning against the headboard enduring the excruciating pain when the door was suddenly slammed open. “Silas! Stop playing dead, get up!” It was Zane’s voice. He grabbed my collar and dragged me off the bed. “Where…” I stumbled, completely unable to find my direction. “Leah’s been kidnapped!” Zane’s voice carried a weird excitement. “At the abandoned chemical plant in the west suburbs! They specifically asked for you to come alone to ransom her! If you don’t go, they’ll kill her!” Kidnapped? I tensed immediately, even my body’s pain suppressed. “Take me there.” I grabbed Zane’s wrist in return, with such force it made him cry out in pain. “Still so strong for a blind man…” Zane muttered, but didn’t break free. “Let’s go, the car’s outside.” The whole way, the car sped along. I sat in the passenger seat, gripping tightly the tactical knife I always carried. Even blind, this blade was part of my body. At the abandoned factory, the surroundings were deathly silent. “Leah’s inside, second floor, innermost room.” Zane pushed me out of the car. “Go in yourself. I’ll call the police.” With that, the engine roared away. I knew something was wrong. But I had no choice. As long as Leah was inside, even if it was hell, I had to jump in. I felt along the wall, relying on subtle air currents and echoes to move forward step by step. My ribs hurt with every movement, sweat soaking my back. “Silas?” From deep on the second floor came Leah’s terrified voice. “Leah!” I rushed toward the sound but tripped over debris on the ground, falling hard. “This was the top bodyguard back then? How’d he become such a pathetic wreck?” Mocking laughter surrounded me. Then came the dull thuds of clubs hitting my body. “Ugh!” I curled up, protecting my head and chest, gripping my knife tightly and using my hearing to judge their positions. Three on the left, two on the right. “Everyone freeze!” I suddenly lashed out, the knife precisely slashing across the wrist of the person on the left. A scream immediately rang out. Though blind, my hearing had become even sharper. “You really did go blind?” Leah’s voice trembled with disbelief. I had no time to explain. I felt my way to her side and cut the rope binding her hands. “Go! Hurry!” I pushed her toward the exit. “Think you can run? Not so easy!” Wind rushed from behind. I turned instinctively and spread my arms, shielding Leah behind me. Thunk! The sound of a blade entering flesh. A short knife plunged deep into my abdomen. The pain made stars burst before my eyes, but I gritted my teeth hard and didn’t make a sound. With a backhand strike, I stabbed the attacker’s shoulder. The scene descended into chaos. Just then, sirens wailed closer and closer. Hearing the police sirens, the kidnappers immediately scattered like birds. I clutched my bleeding abdomen, my body slowly sliding down the wall. “Silas! Silas, what’s wrong?” Leah finally broke free and rushed over to support me. Her hand touched my blood-covered hand and she screamed in terror.”You’re hurt… so much blood…” “It’s nothing… just a flesh wound…” I smiled weakly, wanting to reach up and touch her face to make sure she wasn’t hurt, but remembering my hands were covered in blood, I pulled them back. “As long as Leah is okay.” Zane rushed in with the police. “Leah! Are you alright!” Zane rushed over, shoving me aside to embrace Leah. “I just finished calling the police when I saw Silas sneaking around with these people… I knew it was him!” “What?” Leah froze. Zane pointed at me lying on the ground, his face full of righteous indignation. “It was him! He staged the whole thing! He was already fired by the Williams family and held a grudge. He wanted to use the hero-saves-beauty trick to gain Leah’s trust and extort money!” “These kidnappers are all actors he hired! I recorded everything!” Zane pulled out his phone, playing a heavily edited recording that sounded like me negotiating prices with those men. “No… that’s not…” I opened my mouth, trying to explain. Leah looked at me, her expression shifting from panic to disgust. “Silas, to make me forgive you, to get back into the Williams family…” “You actually gambled with my life?” “How long are you going to keep up this act? Getting yourself covered in blood just to make me feel guilty?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “382549”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Because I forgot to switch to my burner account while tipping my favorite male streamer. I was forced to drop my mask in front of a live audience of millions. When the guy I was crushing on read the donation alert out loud: “Thanks to the actress, Chloe Vance, for gifting 100 Tier 3 subs.” The chat exploded: “HOLY SH*T, REAL OR FAKE??!!” “What kind of Hollywood x Esports crossover is this!!!” “Turns out our girl is a simp for a pretty face too!” “A new weird ship has sailed.” I went numb. Just like that, my cover was blown. Five minutes later, my manager arrived on the battlefield. Thank you all. I passed away peacefully. 1 Shine was the undisputed king of the pro gaming league. He had the skills, the looks, and the attitude. The absolute ceiling for an ADC (Marksman), a five-time champion, and a notoriously handsome guy with a toxic mouth—these were the labels plastered all over him. I was his fan. Well, actually, not just a fan. Because, in my humble reality, I am currently a very famous, A-list actress. Plus, I liked him long before he even became an esports player. But ever since he went pro, I finally had a legitimate excuse to watch him openly. My burner account was his top donator. I had been there since his early streaming days when he barely had an audience. Lately, though, with his tournament schedule packed, he streamed less and less. And he never announced his schedule. Catching a stream was pure luck. Half a month ago, I finally managed to catch one of Shine’s streams. When I clicked in, he was already in the middle of a high-ranked match. Out of pure muscle memory, I blindly gifted a massive string of 100-sub bombs. A whole wall of premium gifts flooded the screen, and he didn’t even flinch. It wasn’t until his teammate sitting next to him nudged him that he slowly looked up at his monitor and casually read the alert: “Thanks to the actress, Chloe Vance, for gifting 100 Tier 3 subs.” Then, he seemed to realize something was off. His character, who was in the middle of fighting the boss monster, completely froze. He spaced out. Caught off guard, the enemy jungler and bot lane immediately ganked and killed him. While waiting to respawn, he looked back at the screen. The chat was moving at the speed of light. “WTF WTF WTF IS THIS REAL??!!” “A few subs literally made Shine AFK, lmao.” “Is this the Chloe Vance I’m thinking of?!” “What kind of Hollywood x Esports crossover is this!!!” “I just checked her profile, IT’S HER VERIFIED ACCOUNT!” “She’s a simp for a pretty face too!” “A new weird ship has sailed.” I realized what I’d done way too late. I was paralyzed. I f*cking forgot to switch to my burner account! I didn’t even get to watch the rest of the stream before my manager’s call blasted through my phone. She proceeded to give me a 45-minute lecture filled with “tough love.” The TL;DR: Stay off the internet and stop touching social media. By the time I snuck back into Shine’s stream, he was already offline. Why was he so short today?! I had to settle for the VOD. I never expected those subs to have such a massive ripple effect. That same day, they launched me straight to the #1 trending spot on Twitter. Thinking back to whenever I had a movie coming out, my PR team had to bleed money just to get me trending. And now? A few gifted subs had Chloe and Shine’s names glued to the top three trending topics. My manager told me not to respond. I buried my head in the sand like an ostrich. I figured once the hype died down, I could just go back to my burner account, donate, and watch him in peace. But barely two weeks later, my manager enthusiastically walked up to me. “Got a gig for you! I booked you on a variety show.” “I’m a movie actress, I don’t do reality TV. No way.” “It’s the Hollywood winter right now. You’re turning down work? Made enough money and want to retire early?” Retire? I wouldn’t dare. I still needed to make money to buy subs for Shine. “You’ll be filming it with Shine. You in? If not, I’ll pass it to one of my other clients.” Oh my god? Was it a dating show? A crossover romance between an A-list actress and an esports star? I admit, my heart skipped a beat. “I’m in! I’m in! I’ll do it!” Only after I arrived did I realize I’d been scammed. My imagined dating show? Didn’t exist. I was there to be a glorified intern for his team. Fine. Even if it wasn’t romantic, it still counted as a crossover. 2 It wasn’t until I stood in the lobby of the YKG gaming house that I realized I was actually here to film at Shine’s base. The show, Star Assistants, was an experiential reality show. The gimmick was taking celebrities and dropping them into ordinary, grueling assistant jobs across different industries to experience life outside the glamorous Hollywood bubble. Other actors went to be paralegals, dental assistants, or farmhands. And me? I just happened to be sent to Shine’s team as an esports team assistant. “The team assistant’s job is very tedious. It includes—but isn’t limited to—packing gear for the players during tournaments, managing their schedules, accompanying them to brand events, monitoring their streams, observing their mental health and reporting to management… oh, and waking them up,” Riley, the actual YKG team assistant, explained as she gave me a tour. “Waking them up?” I was terrible at waking up myself. “Yep. They practice late. You have to wake them up before noon every day for lunch.” Noon. Okay, that wasn’t too bad. “Oh, and some of the guys get really cranky in the morning, so be careful,” Riley added. “They’re in the second-floor training room reviewing a match right now. Let’s go say hi.” In the training room, a group of young guys in team jerseys was watching a replay. The moment I pushed the door open, all eyes locked onto me. Look, I know I’m a gorgeous actress, but being stared at like this made me shy. Right, I forgot. I had a whole camera crew trailing behind me. “Hi everyone, I’m Chloe. I’m the team’s new assistant. Just call me Chloe,” I said, pulling out my signature, approachable red-carpet smile. “Hey, what’s up.” “Hi, nice to meet you.” “Wow, Chloe is even prettier in real life than on screen.” Everyone greeted me warmly. Except Shine. He sat alone in the corner. Even though he was quiet, his aura and looks made him impossible to ignore. After greeting everyone, I walked right up to him. “Hi, I’m Chloe. I’ll be your assistant for a while. Hope we get along!” “Hi, I’m Shine. First time meeting you, nice to work with you.” He stood up and gave me a painfully polite, official greeting. First time meeting me my ass. Did he completely forget me? Then again, back in high school, we barely interacted. It was probably normal that he didn’t remember. He was a lot taller than he was five years ago. The red and white team jersey made his skin look pale and flawless. His short, dyed-black hair made him look sharp and cold. He used to rock this stubborn, ash-grey hair forever; he probably dyed it black just for the TV cameras. I stood there, zoning out as I looked at him, remembering the first time we met. Back then, he wasn’t Shine. He was Asher Hayes. It was after school during my sophomore year. In the alley behind Westbridge High, I ran into Asher for the first time. Even though school had only started two months ago, his reputation preceded him. When I saw him, he was leaning against a brick wall, casually smoking a cigarette and joking around with some punk kids. In the crowd, he stood out entirely. His height made the sloppy school uniform look like a fashion statement. His skin was pale, and his features were aggressively handsome. Who knew the school’s notorious bad boy was this hot? But I always steered clear of guys like him. Being robbed was my biggest fear. I cast a quick glance his way, lowered my head, and tried to speed-walk past them. One of the punks noticed me anyway. He smirked and catcalled, “Hey, check out the body on that one.” My face flushed bright red. I just wanted to escape. Asher took a drag of his cigarette, glanced at me indifferently, and then kicked the punk right in the shin—not too hard, not too soft. “Keep your mouth clean.” That simple rescue made me notice him from that day on. I unconsciously started collecting stories about him around school. Like how he got into a fight today and beat someone up. Like how he skipped class to play games at the internet cafe and got caught. Like how some fearless girl confessed to him, and he rejected her. My entire high school life was basically spent harboring a massive secret crush on him. Of course I thought about confessing, but by the time I finished my acting auditions and came back to school senior year, he was gone. Rumor had it he was expelled for fighting. Then, during my freshman year of college, I found out through a high school group chat that he had become a pro gamer. I remembered he used to skip class to game, and he was insanely good at it. I started following him again, watching him go from a nobody rookie to a superstar on the main stage. But all of that was completely shattered by his polite “First time meeting you.” I suddenly felt the urge to cry. A crush really is just a one-person war. He had caused a hurricane in my world. But in his story, I was just a background character who didn’t even deserve a name. My heart felt like someone had crushed a dozen lemons over it—sour and suffocating. I swallowed my emotions, flashed a bright smile, and forced my slightly raspy voice to sound steady: “For me, it’s not our first time meeting.” 3 Because of that sentence, every single eye and camera lens in the room snapped to us. Asher’s eyes suddenly burned a little hotter. I quickly laughed and explained, “I watch your matches all the time.” Editor, please loop this in the teaser trailer. I wasn’t stupid. I wasn’t going to drop my mask that easily again. I absolutely could not let everyone know we went to high school together. The room let out a collective breath of relief. Asher’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I watch your movies a lot, too.” No need to be polite, bro. I literally heard you say on stream: I don’t follow celebrities, I don’t watch movies. No time. Assistants didn’t actually have to live in the gaming house. Riley clocked out and went home shortly after. But for the sake of gathering footage, the producers made me stay in the dorms. A single room at the end of the fourth-floor hallway. Right next to Asher’s room. I suspected they wanted to push a romance angle between us. Honestly, I wanted to, too. But I had no opening. He constantly had this “do not approach” aura around him. After dinner, I went back to my room to unpack. The crew then cued me to go downstairs and watch the players stream. It was the end of the month, so grinding out stream hours was their usual post-dinner routine. When I got to the streaming room, the support player, Finn, was already interacting with his chat. I said hi to him and sat quietly in a chair off-camera, watching him play. Suddenly, his chat was flooded. “We want to see Chloe!” “Alright guys, give me a sec. Let me ask if Chloe wants to duo,” Finn said. He was a sweet, soft-spoken guy. He turned to me. “Chloe, want to play a round?” “Sure.” Just as Finn added me and we were about to start our happy duo queue… Asher strolled into the room with a cup of coffee. “Huh? Captain, didn’t you finish your stream hours for the month? Why are you live again?” “You ate lunch today, didn’t you? Didn’t you still eat two bowls of rice for dinner?” … The chat erupted in “LMAOOOO”. He took a sip of his coffee and booted up the PC right next to mine. “Can’t I just miss my fans?” Asher rolled his eyes at Finn. “Captain, wanna trio with us?” Finn, completely ignoring the eye roll, craned his neck to ask. “Sure.” Finn was too stunned that he agreed so fast to realize how rare it was to get the Captain to queue with him. I saw the true power of reality TV right there. I swear, this was the closest I had ever been to Asher. I was sitting right between his and Finn’s setups. A straight-line distance of less than a foot. If he just leaned casually in my direction, my heart skipped a few beats. Since my account rank was low, they both hopped on their smurfs. “What do you play? I’ll grab it for you,” Asher asked, turning his head during the ban phase. “I’ll play Mid.” Honestly, I didn’t have many heroes I was good at. Besides mages, I only played support, and all the good supports were banned. I had to lock in a mage. Who knew that in the first few minutes, I’d get ganked by the enemy Jungler and Mid laner over and over? I burned my flash and still fed two kills. Our Jungler typed in all-chat: “Mid, do you know how to play? Can you just hide under the tower?” Me: “Okay, okay.” I turtled under my tower to clear minion waves. Asher: “Finn, go help Mid.” “Don’t panic Chloe, I’m coming.” I died twice early, my farm was stolen by our Jungler, and I was the poorest player in the game. Even with Finn’s help, it was miserable. Our Jungler was clearly duo-queued with the Top laner and only ganked top. He ignored mid completely, then typed in chat to flame me: “Mid didn’t even help me defend my blue buff. What a waste of space.” … Asher won a 1v2 in his lane, took the first tower, and immediately rotated to Mid to gank. He killed the enemy Mid and pushed down the tier-1 tower. Then his fingers flew across his keyboard, typing in all-chat: “Jungler, stop rotating to help Mid. Are you on maternity leave in the jungle?” Pfft. Hahahaha. The stream chat went wild. The Jungler, currently farming a camp, fell dead silent. Led by Asher, we pushed all the way to the enemy base. They defended hard, and we couldn’t crack the high-ground towers. The boss monster spawned. Our Jungler confidently went to solo it. Halfway through, the enemy Jungler ambushed him. Our Jungler died, and the boss was stolen. While the enemy Jungler was recalling, the four of us shattered their high ground and pushed the core. As we hit the core, Asher dropped another sarcastic bomb in all-chat: “Next time, teach me how to play the game with just your mouth. You farmed so badly I feel sorry for the jungle camps.” The next second, the core exploded. Victory. Flawless execution. Didn’t even leave the guy a chance to reply. If I were that Jungler, I’d be coughing up blood. The Toxic King of Esports. He lived up to the hype. Before the next match started. “Chloe.” “Yeah?” It was the first time Asher had said my name. Why did those two syllables sound so incredibly good coming from him? “Play ADC next game. I’ll support you.” I looked into Asher’s ink-black eyes and couldn’t find a single trace of a joke. Huh? The best Marksman in the league wanted to play Support for me? Finn: Did the sun just rise in the west? 4 Because the show was filmed and aired concurrently, I only stayed at the house for two nights during the first block. Future schedules would adjust based on audience feedback. The next day, Asher streamed for a solid 7 hours. After dinner, he played high-tier ranked games until midnight, then pushed his main account ranking. Fans kept saying he changed; he was suddenly so eager to stream. He just replied flatly, “When am I not eager? I just want to spend more time with you guys.” If I wasn’t sitting right there, I would’ve thought he was whispering sweet nothings to some girl on the phone. The moment he said that, the chat went feral. Gifts flooded the screen. If he wasn’t sleeping, I didn’t dare slack off either. Everyone else went to bed. I just sat by his computer with him, all the way until 2 AM. After he logged off. The crew took off our mics and packed up the cameras. He stood up, cracked his neck, and stretched. I secretly peeked as the hem of his white t-shirt lifted, exposing a razor-sharp V-line. Lord have mercy. “Thanks for the hard work, staying up with me to practice.” “No problem.” Happy to do it again. By the time I showered and got back to my room, it was past 2:30 AM. A knock sounded at the door. “You awake?” ! Asher! In the middle of the night… Coming to my room… Could it be… Stop it. My brain was full of trash. How could that be? “Not yet, what’s up?” I quickly got up and opened the door. A fresh wave of citrus body wash hit me. Asher stood in my doorway in his pajamas. He looked like he just stepped out of the shower, his hair still dripping wet. “My hairdryer broke. Did you bring yours? Can I borrow it?” “I did, let me get it.” Because I was leaving the next day, I had packed all my stuff into my suitcase. I had to open my luggage and dig around to find it. “Want to come in first? It might take me a second.” There was too much stuff in there. “Is it convenient?” “Yeah, come in.” He walked in and sat on the chair opposite my bed, waiting. “Here, finally found it.” “Can I just use it here? Do you mind?” “No, not at all, go ahead.” So, he took the hairdryer and slowly started drying his hair. The whirring filled the room. I sat on the edge of the bed, secretly watching him under the warm light. The way his hand casually ran through his hair was ridiculously attractive. His knuckles were defined, his fingers long and strong, veins popping on the back of his hand. Not too delicate, not too rough. They say hands are a man’s second face, and they aren’t wrong. Looking back at the past two days, it felt surreal yet entirely natural. Was it because I was already so familiar with him in my head? Even though we had only hung out for two days, I felt like I had gotten very close to him. Like an old friend. The next morning at 9 AM, I had to catch a flight. My manager and a driver came to pick me up. A few team members specifically woke up early to see me off. In the group, I didn’t see Asher’s silhouette. “Where’s Captain? Why isn’t he up yet?” Finn asked. “He streamed until the middle of the night. Probably catching up on sleep. Let’s not wait for him,” Caleb, the Top laner, said. “Alright, I’ll get going then. See you guys in a few days,” I said, hiding my slight disappointment with a smile. The driver loaded my suitcase into the van. I stood by the door, looking around one last time. Still no Asher. Just as I turned to get in the car, a voice called out from the distance. “Chloe.” I whipped my head around. Asher came jogging over from down the street, holding a paper bag. “Bought you breakfast. Eat it on the way.” He was slightly out of breath. “Thank you! You shouldn’t have!” “Safe travels. See you in a few days.” “See you.” Once in the car, I opened the bag. A cup of hot soy milk and a warm, loaded breakfast burrito. In a daze, I realized that to maintain my weight for the cameras, it had been a long time since I ate such a high-calorie breakfast. I took my phone out and snapped a picture of it. Today was a day worth remembering. Back in the team lobby. Finn: “Captain, where did you go? Chloe already left, why are you just getting back?” Asher, breaking his usual habit, didn’t roast him. He just smiled and went upstairs to sleep. Finn: Did the sun really just rise in the west? 5 A couple of days after I got home, the rough-cut trailer for the show dropped. Because the concept was so fresh, it got a huge wave of attention. Asher—wait, I mean Shine—trended on Twitter. A bunch of girls who didn’t even watch esports were drooling over his face. Everyone was saying his toxic mouth was the price he paid for those looks. The Toxic King of Esports was brutally funny. The shippers for Shine and Finn started celebrating too. “This toxic top / soft bottom dynamic is PERFECT!” “I’m eating this up!” “I’m dying, I love them!” Both of their personal follower counts spiked along with the official show account. A few days later, the producers contacted my team. Producer: “Chloe, did you see the trailer?” “I did, the reception is pretty good.” “It is, but Chloe, your interactions with Shine in episode one were a bit sparse. We’re hoping you can interact with him more in the upcoming shoots. But it wasn’t really your fault; the first recording didn’t have any structured activities. Everyone was just practicing or streaming. We’ll set up better scenarios next time.” “Okay, got it.” A week later, I was notified it was time to shoot again. This time, we were filming two episodes back-to-back. I had to live at the base for five days. My manager had to compress my schedule to an insane degree. Right before my flight, I was still in a studio shooting a fashion magazine cover. I practically sprinted to the airport rocking heavy smoky makeup and a messy, avant-garde hairstyle. People stared at me like a zoo animal… By the time I arrived at the team base, it was 1 AM. The driver unloaded my luggage and left after my manager gave me a few warnings. As I dragged my massive 32-inch suitcase down the dark path toward the front door, a dark shadow suddenly sprinted past me. !!! I panicked and forced myself to look. It was Asher. He was wearing a black tracksuit and running shoes, basically blending into the night. “Oh, it’s you. Scared me to death,” I sighed in relief. “Why are you so late?” “I had to cram all my work together to clear the next few days. It was a tight squeeze. Why are you out here so late?” “Night run.” “Oh, keeping in shape. Nice.” “Yeah.” He smoothly grabbed my suitcase handle and walked into the base ahead of me. Inside, Finn and the Jungler were chatting in the lobby. They watched Asher walk in dragging my pink suitcase. Finn spoke up. “Captain, you’re finally back? I thought you went to run a marathon. It’s been almost three hours.” Three hours? Insane stamina! “Oh, Chloe, you’re back too?” “Yeah, flight just landed.” “Captain, go shower and sleep. We waited forever for you. We have scrims tomorrow.” “I didn’t ask you to wait.” “Bro, you’re a delicate, beautiful man. Running around in the dark for hours? What if some creep targeted you? You never know.” That comment earned Finn a massive eye roll from Asher. “Chloe, get some rest. We’re going to sleep too, scrims tomorrow.” “Okay, goodnight guys.” Asher dragged my suitcase all the way to my door. “Get some rest.” “I will. Thanks for the help, goodnight.” “Goodnight.” I went to the bathroom to wash up. When I looked in the mirror, I jumped. I thought Asher was a creep in the dark? Looking at my crazy fashion-shoot makeup, I looked like the ghost. I washed up and laid in bed, eager for tomorrow. Thinking about how my path and Asher’s had crossed from parallel lines in our youth to this. My chest filled with a sweet, bubbly emotion. A room I had only slept in twice already felt warmly familiar. Maybe I was just exhausted, but I fell asleep quickly. The next day, I got ready, and the crew mic’d me up. When I got downstairs, I saw the other players waiting for lunch, including Riley, who I hadn’t seen in a while. I quickly went over and said hi. “It’s almost time to eat, where’s Shine?” the Coach asked. “Caleb, go wake him up.” Caleb, the Jungler, had been on the team forever and was the same age as Shine. “Hell no. He has Tier-1 morning crankiness. I’m not getting punched.” The others immediately pretended to take phone calls or ran to the bathroom. Basically, everyone adopted an “I’m just passing through, don’t ask me” attitude. “I’ll go! I’ll go!” Riley volunteered enthusiastically, standing up to head upstairs. But she was stopped. The producer held up a cue card behind the camera: Please have Chloe wake up Shine. Seeing this, the Coach had no choice. “Chloe, you go wake up Shine.” I looked around. Everyone’s face said the exact same thing: May God have mercy on your soul. … Is this the “forced interaction” the producers wanted?

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