Category: English

It was during a game of Truth or Dare that Valerie decided to drop the bomb. “Actually, the night before our wedding, Cameron and I checked into a hotel together.” In a heartbeat, the air was sucked out of the room. Every pair of eyes shifted to me, heavy with a suffocating, pitying weight. Valerie leaned back against the plush leather of the VIP booth sofa, nursing her drink. She looked completely at ease, just waiting for me to lose my mind. Instead, I gave a calm, measured nod. “I have something I’ve been keeping from you, too,” I said. “I have a daughter. She’s seven.” 1 The private room went dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop. It took a long, agonizing moment before Brooke, Valerie’s self-appointed best friend, scrambled to break the tension. “Nathan… God, Nate, Val is just messing around,” Brooke laughed, a shrill, nervous sound. “Your joke isn’t exactly funny, either.” I cut her off. “I’m not joking.” Valerie shifted. Her posture straightened, and that smug, playful glint in her eyes began to freeze over. “Nathan,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, warning register. “Do you have any idea what you’re saying right now?” Right on cue, Cameron leaned a fraction closer to Valerie. He had that soft, almost fragile cadence down to a science. “Nate,” Cameron murmured, his eyes big and earnest. “I know you’re in a bad mood tonight, but you really shouldn’t joke about something like that. If what Val said upset you… I’m so sorry. I apologize on her behalf.” As he spoke, the rims of his eyes turned a delicate shade of pink. The perfect picture of the long-suffering victim. Watching his little performance, I actually let out a genuine laugh. “I’m not joking, and I’m not in a bad mood. It’s just that listening to you two talk about the past reminded me that it’s probably time I came clean about a few things, too.” Valerie let out a sharp scoff, slamming her cocktail glass down on the glass table. The ice clinked violently. “Nathan, if you can’t handle the game, just leave. There’s no need to say this kind of garbage just to get a rise out of me.” “Exactly,” Cameron chimed in, perfectly synchronized. “Whatever happened between Val and me, it’s in the past. If it really bothers you, I can explain everything. You don’t need to invent some imaginary kid just to throw a tantrum.” I met Valerie’s stare head-on. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I’m not lying. I have a child. A seven-year-old girl.” This time, even Brooke’s nervous smile vanished. The rest of the friends in the booth, who had been aggressively pretending to look at their phones, snapped their heads up. Their gazes darted back and forth between Valerie and me like they were watching a tennis match. Valerie’s face cycled through a spectrum of emotions before settling into a cruel, mocking smirk. “Seven? Nathan, we’ve been married for six years. Care to tell me where exactly you conjured up a seven-year-old daughter?” “She was born before the wedding,” I said simply. “Impossible,” she hissed, her jaw tight. “I’ve known you for eight years. You think you could hide a kid from me?” But I saw the flicker in her eyes. The anger was morphing into suspicion, and the suspicion was curdling into something darker, something deeply unsettled. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, frantically scanning the last eight years for any blind spots, any missing hours. Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Cameron decided to intervene. “Well, Nate, if you really have a kid, why don’t you bring her around?” He tilted his head, flashing a sweet, innocent smile. “We’d love to meet our new little niece.” There was a faint, taunting edge to his mouth. He thought he was calling my bluff. “There’s no need,” I said flatly. “Why not?” Cameron pressed, his tone dripping with fake concern. “Is she shy? Or…” Or does she not exist? He left the implication hanging in the air. “She has no desire to know people like you,” I said. Cameron’s smile shattered. Valerie stared at me, a violent storm brewing in her dark eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but for once, the words failed her. 2 Brooke leaped to her feet, practically vibrating with forced cheer. “Okay, wow! Let’s… let’s keep playing! Come on, guys, it’s rare we all get together. Let’s not kill the vibe!” She grabbed an empty vodka bottle from the table, rolling it between her palms. “Next round! Nobody be a buzzkill!” She spun the bottle. It clattered against the glass table, slowing down until the neck pointed dead center at Cameron. “Truth or dare?” Brooke asked, breathless. Cameron glanced at Valerie, then shot a hesitant look at me. He bit his lower lip. “Dare.” Brooke pulled a slip of paper from the bowl. She cleared her throat. “Share a chocolate pretzel stick with someone of the opposite sex. You have to eat it until your lips are less than half an inch apart!” The booth erupted into immediate, rowdy cheering. Cameron’s face flushed a deep, becoming red. He turned to Valerie, his eyes swimming with a perfectly calculated mix of helplessness and quiet anticipation. Valerie, however, was still staring at me. Unblinking. I broke eye contact, picked up my glass of club soda, and took a slow sip. Three, maybe four seconds ticked by. Then, I heard Valerie let out an irritated, dismissive click of her tongue. A plastic wrapper tore open. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her place one end of a chocolate-coated stick between her teeth. She turned her body, leaning heavily into Cameron’s space. The catcalls and whistles from their friends grew louder. I set my glass down. My eyes traced the shrinking distance between them. Valerie held the biscuit in her mouth, leaning further in. Cameron’s face was flushed, his head tilted back slightly, his eyelashes fluttering like a baby bird waiting to be fed. The stick got shorter. And shorter. When they reached that final half-inch, Valerie didn’t stop. Cameron let out a soft, muffled gasp as her mouth crushed against his. The VIP room went absolutely feral. People were clapping, howling, and Brooke even whipped out her iPhone to start recording. “Holy shit, Val is going for it!” “Look at Cam, he’s melting!” “It’s been almost a minute, damn!” I sat there, watching their performance with the detached clinical interest of an outsider. Valerie’s hand slid to the back of Cameron’s neck, pulling him deeper into her. Cameron melted against her, his fingers bunching the fabric of her silk blouse like it was a life preserver in a stormy sea. One minute and three seconds. I picked up the highball glass in front of me and stood up. Nobody noticed. All their attention was glued to the center of the booth, where the two of them were completely lost in each other. I stepped around the low table and walked right up to them. Cameron opened his eyes first. His pupils dilated in sheer panic. Before he could even flinch, I threw the entire glass of ice water directly into his face. “Ah—!” The freezing liquid splashed over his delicate features, ice cubes bouncing off his cheekbones, water plastering his perfectly styled hair to his forehead. Valerie shoved him away instantly. Water dripped from her chin, a massive dark stain spreading across the front of her expensive silk blouse. The screaming in the booth stopped. Complete, suffocating silence. Cameron curled into Valerie’s side, trembling violently. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes. He looked incredibly pathetic. He bit his lip, fat tears rolling down his cheeks, but he didn’t dare say a word. Valerie looked up at me. The strange thing was, there was no rage in her eyes. Instead, there was a twisted sense of relief. “Valerie,” I said, my voice sounding completely steady, almost foreign to my own ears. “We’re getting a divorce.” I turned on my heel and walked toward the door. “Nate, wait!” Brooke was the first to scramble up, throwing herself in my path. The rest of the group stood up in a panicked wave. “Nate, don’t do this,” Brooke pleaded, holding her arms out. “It’s just a stupid game! Val’s had too much to drink, please don’t take it seriously!” “Yeah, come on, man,” one of the guys chimed in. “We’re all friends here. People get a little wild, it’s normal. You storming out just makes you look insecure.” “Exactly. It’s just Cam. We’ve known him forever. It’s not like he’s a stranger.” I looked at Brooke and smiled. “I hope, when you get married, your husband finds a female friend he can aggressively make out with in public.” Brooke froze, the color draining from her face. “And the rest of you,” I said, sweeping my gaze over the room. “I wish you all partners who have a ‘best friend’ they can just passionately kiss during party games. You deserve exactly what you’re defending.” The smug expressions in the room evaporated. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, Nathan?” one of them snapped. “Brooke is trying to help your marriage and you’re cursing us?” I didn’t bother replying. I pushed Brooke’s arm aside and walked out the door. Rapid footsteps echoed behind me. “Nathan!” Valerie’s hand clamped down on my wrist. Her grip was brutal, her nails digging into my skin. She yanked me around. In the dim, moody lighting of the club hallway, half her face was cast in shadow, making her expression unreadable. “Let go of me, Val,” I said. She didn’t. “Nathan,” she said, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “I am going to ask you one last time. The kid. Is it real?” I was exhausted. Bone-deep tired. Was I speaking a different language, or were they all just incapable of basic comprehension? “She is real. I can show you the DNA test whenever you want,” I cut in. Valerie let out a bitter, jagged laugh. “People fake DNA tests all the time.” Looking at her, a strange sense of dark amusement washed over me. Six years of marriage, and in her eyes, I was still just a man desperate enough to invent a secret child to make her jealous. To provoke her. To beg for her attention. “Believe whatever you want,” I said, wrenching my arm out of her grasp. “We’re getting a divorce either way.” This time, she didn’t follow me. As the elevator doors slid shut, the last thing I saw was Valerie standing alone in the dark hallway, one hand buried in her damp hair, pulling at the roots. The elevator descended. I leaned my head against the cool metal wall, my mind drifting back to our wedding day, six years ago. When we exchanged vows, Valerie had held my hands, her eyes bright with tears, promising she would protect my heart for the rest of our lives. Sitting in the front row, my father-in-law had been weeping like a baby. Later at the reception, Arthur had pulled me aside, gripping my shoulder. Nate, son, he’d said, if my Valerie ever breaks your heart, you tell me. I’ll break her legs. Back then, I really believed I was marrying for love. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Arthur. I stared at the caller ID for several long seconds before swiping to answer. “Nate, my boy,” Arthur’s warm, gravelly voice echoed through the speaker. “It’s the weekend tomorrow. You and Val coming over for dinner? I’m slow-roasting a brisket, and I picked up that maple pecan pie from the bakery you love.” I closed my eyes, the cold elevator wall grounding me. “Arthur,” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I have some things to take care of tomorrow. I don’t think I can make it.” “Sunday, then? You can’t be busy the whole weekend!” “I have plans Sunday, too.” “Nate…” Arthur’s voice dropped, turning cautious. “Did you and Val have a fight?” I didn’t answer. The elevator reached the lobby with a soft ding, the doors sliding open to the chaotic noise of the street. “No, Arthur,” I said, walking out into the night. “Work is just really crazy right now.” There was a long stretch of static on the line before Arthur let out a heavy sigh. “Nate, listen to me. I know my girl can be reckless sometimes, but she loves you. She really does. Whatever it is, talk it out. Don’t let it fester.” The night breeze hit my face, sharp and cold. “Arthur,” I interrupted him gently. “I really have to go. Goodnight.” I hung up before he could say another word. Standing on the curb, I watched the blur of headlights rushing past. My phone vibrated again. A voice message on iMessage from Mia’s teacher. I held the phone to my ear. A sweet, high-pitched voice flooded the speaker. “Daddy! Are you coming to the parent-teacher thing tomorrow? My teacher said we could bring our paintings, and I painted you!” I listened to it twice. Then I typed back: I’ll be there. 3 I was Valerie’s white whale. Her ultimate prize. She chased me for years. It took a long time before I finally let my guard down and agreed to marry her. After the wedding, she treated me like royalty. She would have given me the moon if I asked for it. At least, for the first year, that’s what everyone told me, and that’s what I believed. But three months into our marriage, I was taking her blazer to the dry cleaners and found a Polaroid tucked into the inner breast pocket. It was a picture of a boy. Early twenties, wearing a crisp white linen shirt, smiling brilliantly under a large oak tree. That face paralyzed me for several seconds. He looked exactly like me. The shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose. The way his smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. It was a mirror image of a younger me. I put the photo back. I didn’t say a word. But I started paying attention. I noticed how Valerie always put her phone face down. I noticed that when she was in the shower, her phone would buzz with texts from a contact saved simply as “Cam.” Cameron. I finally met him six months into our marriage, at a dinner party. He arrived trailing behind some of Valerie’s friends, slipping into a corner seat, quiet and unassuming. Someone introduced him. “This is Cameron.” He stood up to greet everyone. When his eyes landed on me, he paused just a fraction of a second. Then he smiled. A bright, meticulously polite smile. “Hi, Nate.” In that exact moment, I understood why that Polaroid was hidden in her suit pocket. He was younger than me. Softer than me. And he knew exactly how to look at Valerie with big, tear-filled eyes. And Valerie? From the second he walked through the door, she hadn’t looked at me once. 4 The first time I caught them kissing was eight months after the wedding. It was Valerie’s birthday. We threw a massive catered party at our house. I was running around playing the perfect host, refilling glasses and making small talk. It wasn’t until the cake was being brought out that I realized Valerie was missing. I went to check the second-floor balcony. When I pushed the glass door open, I saw two silhouettes pressed together against the railing. Cameron had his back arched over the balustrade, his hands clutching Valerie’s shoulders. Valerie had her hand buried in his hair, kissing him with a desperate, consuming hunger. The moonlight washed over their faces. Cameron’s eyes were closed, his eyelashes trembling beautifully. I stood in the doorway. The silver cake server I was holding slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the hardwood floor. They broke apart. Cameron saw me, and the blood instantly drained from his face. He scrambled behind Valerie like a frightened child. Valerie spun around. For a split second, there was sheer panic in her eyes, but she ruthlessly buried it. “Nathan,” she said, taking a step toward me. “Listen to me—” I didn’t listen. I turned around, walked down the hall, and went straight into our master bedroom. I opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out our framed wedding photo. It was a heavy, solid mahogany frame. I lifted it above my head and smashed it onto the floor with everything I had. The glass shattered into a thousand pieces. The photograph ripped right down the middle, perfectly severing Valerie and me. The guests downstairs heard the crash and came rushing up, crowding the doorway in shocked silence. By the time Valerie sprinted into the room, I was already destroying the crystal figurines on her desk. The first gift she ever gave me. The souvenirs from our honeymoon in Paris. The expensive colognes she bought me. Anything I could lift, I threw. She lunged at me, wrapping her arms around my torso from behind, locking me in a vice grip. “Nathan! Stop it! That’s enough!” I couldn’t break free. I just stood there, chest heaving, gasping for air. She turned me around, her eyes red and pleading. “I cut him off,” she swore, her voice trembling. “I swear to God, Nate, it’s over.” I looked at her, and suddenly, I started to laugh. Why was it that she was the one who cheated, but I was the one standing here looking completely unhinged? That night, she sat on the floor beside my side of the bed until dawn. I didn’t let her under the covers, and she didn’t try to leave. When the sun came up, I opened my eyes to see her asleep, her head resting on the edge of the mattress, her brow furrowed, one hand still desperately gripping the corner of my blanket. I stared at her for a long time. Then, slowly, I reached out and brushed a piece of hair away from her face. I thought, maybe, just maybe, she would actually change. 5 Three months later, Cameron was kneeling on my foyer floor. I was home alone that afternoon. The doorbell rang, and when I opened it, there he was. He was wearing an oversized sweater, his face ghastly pale, his eyes swollen from crying. He walked inside, dropped to his knees on the imported tile, and looked up at me. “Nate,” he choked out. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but I have nowhere else to go…” I stared down at him. I didn’t say a word. His trembling hands reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He offered it up to me like a sacrifice. A clinical ultrasound report. Patient: Valerie Hayes. Diagnosis: Early intrauterine pregnancy. Approximately 6 weeks.

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Before my mother passed away, she locked me into a marriage of convenience. The bride was Victoria Kensington, Wall Street’s most ruthless private equity queen. Before saying “I do,” I sat across from her and laid down three ground rules: One: No catching feelings. We are strictly in this for the dividends. Two: We maintain an open arrangement. You live your life, I live mine. Three: If the actual love of your life ever comes knocking, I will quietly step aside—provided my buyout clause is doubled. Victoria was highly satisfied with my pragmatism. That is, until the afternoon a teenage girl, sharing seventy percent of Victoria’s striking bone structure, knocked on the door of our Upper East Side townhouse and looked at me with dead-calm eyes. “You must be my uncle by marriage,” she said. “I’m Victoria’s secret daughter. I just turned seventeen.” 1 I stared at her for two solid seconds. My first thought: Damn, Victoria is good at hiding the skeletons in her walk-in closet. My second thought: A rapid mental scroll through our prenuptial agreement. What was rule number three again? Ah, right. If true love knocks, I take double the settlement and vanish. I instantly stepped aside, pulling the door wide open. My tone was pure concierge. “Come on in. She’s still at the office. Take a seat—what can I get you to drink?” The girl clearly hadn’t anticipated this reaction. She blinked, the hardened edge in her posture slipping. “You’re… not mad?” Mad? Why would I be mad? I was practically praying for Victoria to have a scandalous affair. Slip me my thirty million dollar exit package, and I’d be on the first flight to the Amalfi Coast to live out my billionaire bachelor dreams. I watched her take off her sneakers. At seventeen, she was tall and graceful. She had Victoria’s piercing eyes, but her aura was entirely different. Softer. Cleaner. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Mia.” I pulled a bottle of sparkling water from the Sub-Zero fridge and handed it to her, offering my most reassuring smile. “Listen, Mia. Your mom and I are in a contractual marriage. A mutually beneficial merger. Her private life is her business. I have absolutely no right to be angry.” Mia gripped the cold glass bottle. Her throat worked, but she didn’t say another word. I sat in the armchair across from her, letting the expanse of the marble coffee table act as a buffer. God, they really do look alike. It brought me back to three years ago. The smell of antiseptic in the hospice room. My mother, taking her last, ragged breaths, gripping Victoria’s hand and begging her to look after me. The Kensington family owed my mother a life debt, and Victoria paid it off with a wedding ring. The night before we went to City Hall, she slid a leather-bound prenup across the mahogany table. I skimmed the legalese, held up three fingers, and gave her my terms. “One: No feelings, just the financial dividends. Two: Discretion, but total freedom. You do you, I do me. Three: The day your soulmate shows up, I pack my bags, but my alimony doubles.” She didn’t even blink. She clicked her Montblanc pen and signed. “Acceptable.” From start to finish, the word love was never spoken. After the wedding, we occupied separate wings of the house. We ate at different times. She spent twenty days out of the month flying between London, Tokyo, and Dubai. During the ten days she was actually in New York, I saw her less than her executive assistant did. Three years ago, on the steps of City Hall, she walked in first. Signed the papers. Got the stamp. She never once looked back at me. It didn’t feel like a wedding. It felt like the closing of a corporate acquisition. 2 When Victoria finally walked through the door that evening, I was curled up on the velvet sofa, binge-watching a reality dating show. The sharp click of her Louboutins paused right behind the couch. Two seconds ticked by. I clicked the volume up two notches and kept my eyes glued to the screen. She didn’t head upstairs. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her standing perfectly still. The weight of her stare was a physical pressure against the back of my neck. “Who did you speak to today?” she asked. I hit pause, sat up straight, and gave her my most professional nod. “News travels fast on Wall Street, doesn’t it? A very pretty teenager stopped by. Said she was your daughter. I have to say, your NDA game is incredibly strong.” The air in the room went dead quiet. Her expression didn’t shift. But she didn’t deny it, either. “I will handle this,” she said finally. I nodded, standing up from the sofa. As I walked past her, brushing close enough to smell the faint trace of her expensive sandalwood perfume, I paused. “Great. Just let me know whenever you need me to cooperate with the divorce proceedings.” I hesitated, then couldn’t resist twisting the knife just a little. “I assume you remember the clause about the double payout, right?” She looked down at me. Her eyes were dark, stormy, and impossibly heavy. I waited a beat. The atmosphere suddenly felt suffocatingly thick, so I spun around and made a quick retreat up the stairs. Once my bedroom door clicked shut, I leaned my back against the wood, staring up at the modern chandelier. All this time, she was ‘traveling for business.’ Twenty days a month. I honestly thought our marriage was as blank and sterile as a sheet of printer paper. Turns out, she’s had the love of her life tucked away somewhere, and even managed to produce an heir. I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my banking app. That initial pre-wedding wire transfer was sitting right there in my asset portfolio. Ten million dollars. Double that… twenty million. Wait. She hid a whole child for seventeen years. That constitutes marital fraud, right? Asking for a clean twenty-five million wouldn’t be out of line. 3 At 1:30 in the morning, I was still staring at the ceiling, violently awake. After debating with myself for twenty minutes, I opened my contacts and found David Gallagher – Attorney. I’d added him three years ago when we signed the prenup. His profile picture was a Golden Retriever. I opened the chat. Type. Delete. Type. Delete. Finally, I hit send: Hey David. Quick legal hypothetical. Feel free to ignore if it’s too late. He replied instantly: I’m awake. Shoot. Impressive billing hours. I carefully considered my wording. Hypothetically speaking. I have a buddy. His wife had a kid before they got married and never told him. Okay. That counts as concealing a material fact, right? If his prenup says he gets double alimony if ‘true love’ enters the picture, can he leverage this? What exactly is the wording in your friend’s agreement? I stared at the glowing screen. I couldn’t say it was me. I couldn’t be too specific. If the name Cole Bennett got passed around the Manhattan elite lawyers’ group chats, I’d be laughed out of every country club in the tri-state area. I typed: My friend didn’t sign a prenup. His wife just verbally promised she’d leave with nothing if she cheated. I hit send and immediately cringed at how fake it sounded. The little typing… bubble danced on my screen for a long time. Your friend is very trusting, David finally replied. I choked on a breath. The point isn’t his trusting nature, David. The point is what he’s entitled to now. My thumb hovered over the keyboard. Twenty million. Twenty-five million would be nice. Victoria’s gorgeous face couldn’t buy me a private island, but her money could. He wants a settlement. Ideally double what she has. Does he have any tangible proof that the wife acknowledged the child? I thought of Mia’s face. I thought of Victoria saying, I will handle this. She hadn’t denied it. Does that count as an admission? He says his wife didn’t deny it when confronted. Does that count? Verbal acknowledgment can be argued, but you need recordings, text logs, or a witness. A witness… would I count as a witness? I threw my phone face down onto the mattress. Five seconds later, the screen lit up the dark room. David: Cole, my firm represents the Kensington family, so it’s a conflict of interest for me to take this. But I can refer you to a colleague who specializes in high-net-worth divorces. … I actually laughed out loud at my own stupidity. 4 While I spent the next two days discreetly calling around for divorce attorneys, Mia moved in. I was at the dining table letting a bottle of Cabernet breathe when I heard the front door open. Victoria walked in first, casting a long shadow. The teenager trailed a half-step behind her. Victoria pulled out a chair. “Mia is transferring schools. Until the paperwork clears, she’s staying here.” Oh, wow. Moving the secret daughter right into the primary residence. How long until the mystery lover demands their rightful place on the throne? Divorce. I absolutely had to finalize this divorce. Mentally calculating child support offsets, I casually called out toward the kitchen: “Martha, let’s add two more sides to dinner tonight!” We sat around a spread of six dishes and a soup. I picked up a piece of sweet and sour rib and placed it directly into the bowl of my twenty-five million dollar ticket—I mean, Mia. I gave her my warmest, most attentive smile. “So, you got a new school lined up?” She looked down at the table. “Yeah.” “What grade?” “Junior.” “Are you keeping up with the coursework okay?” Her chopsticks paused mid-air. “It’s fine.” I added a spoonful of sautéed greens to her plate. “It’s getting chilly at night. There are extra down comforters in the guest room closet if you need one.” She didn’t respond, keeping her eyes locked in an intense, silent conversation with her white rice. Victoria didn’t say a word either. They were both emotional brick walls. After dinner, as the plates were cleared, I stood by the kitchen island, slicing oranges. Perfect, symmetrical wedges, fanned out on a white porcelain platter. It was something to do with my hands. Footsteps stopped just behind me. “You’re really not going to ask about my situation? You don’t care that she’s been screwing around behind your back?” Mia’s voice was a little raspy. I placed the last orange slice on the plate. “That is entirely between the two of you. My only job here is to facilitate whatever arrangements Victoria wants to make.” “…You genuinely don’t care at all?” I turned off the faucet. I grabbed a linen towel, drying my hands as I turned to face her with a flawless, impenetrable smile. “Kiddo, this is a contract marriage.” I tossed the towel onto the rack, my smile turning a bit more cynical. “Caring too much would be a breach of contract.” She didn’t push it. Her eyes searched my face, like she was trying to decode a puzzle. But as I picked up the fruit platter to walk out, I froze. Victoria was standing perfectly still in the kitchen doorway. 5 After that night, Victoria’s appearances at the townhouse dropped to near zero. When Martha asked how many places to set for dinner, I told her two. The lady of the house was gone, and somehow, the husband and the illegitimate daughter living in peaceful, domestic harmony didn’t strike anyone as insane. On a Friday afternoon, the lawyer I’d finally hired, Mr. Sterling’s colleague, couriered over a thick envelope. Mr. Bennett, draft of the evidentiary list for the divorce proceedings. Please review. I flipped to page three. Item 7: Female party concealed the existence of a child born out of wedlock during the marriage, constituting a material breach and gross misconduct. “Uncle Cole.” At the sound of Mia’s voice, I casually flipped the folder shut. She was standing by the patio doors, staring at me with laser focus. “What were you just reading?” I placed my phone face down on top of the file. “Work stuff.” She didn’t move an inch. “You’re a liar. Ever since you married Victoria, she’s paid for your entire life. You don’t have a job. Are you divorcing her because of me? You can’t divorce her.” I leaned back. “And why is that?” She turned her back to me, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Because…” Dammit, kid! Don’t leave me hanging! But she just walked away without finishing the sentence. The next morning, she was up at dawn. When I sat on the couch to read the news, she stared at me. When I got up to pour coffee, she hovered by the kitchen threshold. When I went back to the living room, she shadowed me to the armchair. Finally, I snapped my laptop shut. “Mia, is there something structurally wrong with your brain?” She didn’t take the bait, just repeating yesterday’s mantra: “You can’t divorce her.” I narrowed my eyes. “Didn’t you show up here specifically to blow up my marriage by exposing her affair?” She bit her lip. “Well, yes. But…” “Then why the hell are you stopping me from leaving?” She looked at the floor, going completely silent. I sighed, got up, walked into my study, and shut the door in her face with a definitive click. Five minutes later, a piece of paper was shoved under the door gap. It was folded in half, torn from a spiral notebook. The handwriting was pressed so hard the pen had nearly ripped through the paper in two places.

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I fainted from sheer grief at my parents’ wake, only to be jolted awake in the dead of night by a rhythmic, sickening sound. I opened my heavy eyes, the room spinning, and my gaze landed directly in front of my parents’ memorial portraits. There, bathed in the dim candlelight, was my husband, Carter. He had Maddie—the girl my parents had taken in and raised as my own sister—pressed hard against the mahogany table, driving into her with a desperate kind of violence. Maddie gasped, her hands tangling in his hair. “Carter… aren’t you afraid she’ll wake up?” Carter’s voice, usually so measured, was thick with breathless apathy. “She hasn’t slept in three days trying to investigate the crash. She’s dead to the world. We could scream and she wouldn’t stir.” Ice instantly crystallized in my throat. My lungs stopped working. Then, Maddie’s face twisted into a mask of fretful innocence. “But what if she finds out the truth about the accident? What do I do then?” “She won’t. Relax. I’ve already paid someone to take the fall. She’ll never know.” He kissed the hollow of her neck. “Besides, it’s not like you meant to run them off the road.” My heart tore open, a visceral, bleeding rip straight down the center of my chest. I dug my fingernails so deeply into my palms that the skin broke, the sharp sting of my own blood the only thing keeping the bile from rising to my mouth, keeping the scream locked behind my teeth. This was the orphan my parents had pitied. The girl they had loved. This was the man I had worshipped for five years. A chilling clarity settled over the devastation. If this was how it was going to be, I would not let their blood-soaked betrayal go to waste. … 1. Just when I thought the truth couldn’t possibly get any uglier, the floor gave way completely. Maddie reached down, guiding Carter’s hand to the slight, barely-there curve of her lower stomach. She looked at him like she was presenting a crown jewel. “But I don’t have a ring, Carter. What are we going to do about our baby?” Carter frowned, the silence stretching into something suffocating. Then, he uttered the most venomous words I had ever heard in my life. “Your due date is right around Camilla’s. When the time comes, I’ll switch the babies. I’ll give yours to her.” “And her baby?” Maddie whispered. “I’ll drop it off at a fire station or an orphanage. I told you our child would be the sole heir to this empire, Maddie. I’m not letting anyone stand in his way.” Carter said it with the casual dismissal of someone throwing out junk mail. His eyes darkened then, intensely serious. “But Camilla can never know. I can’t lose her.” With that, he pulled Maddie flush against him again, his movements turning punishing and rapid. My heart felt like it was being beaten with a blunt instrument, the pain radiating outward until I was entirely numb. He was never the perfect gentleman I thought he was. He was just saving his passion for someone else. But how could he be this deeply evil? To throw away our own flesh and blood? Hot tears slid down my cheeks into the dark carpet. Instinctively, my hands moved to cover my stomach, shielding the three-month-old life growing inside me. By the time the first light of dawn crept through the windows, the sickening noises finally stopped. Carter dressed himself, adjusting his cuffs before walking over to the sofa where I lay feigning sleep. He dropped to his knees, his touch impossibly gentle as he brushed the stray hairs from my forehead and wiped a dried tear from the corner of my eye. “My sweet girl,” he whispered softly. “I’ll love you forever, just like they did.” Those hands. Those same hands that had just been all over another woman’s body. A few minutes later, he led a trembling-legged Maddie out the front door. I dragged myself up from the sofa, my entire body shaking. The sorrow had evaporated, leaving behind a frost so absolute it burned. I pulled out my phone and dialed my best friend, Brooke, a corporate attorney. “Brooke. Draft the divorce papers.” If this was Carter’s definition of love, I was going to burn it to the ground, and him along with it. An hour later, I was sitting in a sterile, white hospital room. “Doctor. I can’t keep the baby.” As the cold instruments did their work, my vision blurred with fresh tears. I had prayed for this child for five long years. I had begged the universe for a family with Carter. But now? Now, I loved this baby too much to bring her into a world where her father would discard her like trash. When I opened my eyes again in the recovery room, the sky outside the window was exploding with brilliant, cascading fireworks. A young nurse walked in to check my vitals, her eyes glued to the window, sighing with dreamy envy. “Can you believe that? The CEO of Carter Enterprises bought out the bay for his girlfriend. They’ve been going off all night. Rumor has it he even bought her a hundred-million-dollar custom yacht to celebrate her pregnancy.” Even the muted TV on the hospital wall was flashing the headline: Tech Billionaire Lights Up the City for Mystery Girlfriend. On the screen, grainy paparazzi footage showed Maddie leaning into Carter’s chest on the deck of a yacht, smiling a sickly-sweet, triumphant smile. We had been secretly married for five years to protect his corporate image. In all that time, he had never bought me a single extravagant gift. Once, years ago, I had gently hinted that I wanted to watch the New Year’s fireworks together. He hadn’t even looked up from his laptop. “It’s just burning money for five minutes of noise, Cam. What’s the point? I’m not into all that performative romance.” He wasn’t allergic to romance. I just wasn’t the woman he wanted to be romantic for. Two days later, I buried my parents. That evening, Carter finally came home after a two-day “business trip.” “Cam, baby, I’ve been working the police chief non-stop these past two days,” he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “The guy who hit them finally confessed. He’s locked up. Your parents can rest in peace now.” A heavy, suffocating wave of designer perfume hit my nose. It was Maddie’s signature scent. My body trembled violently, a physical rejection of his proximity. Swallowing the bile in my throat, I dodged his lips as they moved toward my neck. “I don’t feel well… the baby…” Carter stiffened. He pulled back, a flicker of genuine panic crossing his features. “Cam… did you see the news? The fireworks?” 2. I opened my mouth, struggling to form the words to confront him. Before I could, his phone buzzed. It was a custom ringtone—the one reserved just for Maddie. He flipped the screen face down with lightning speed, but not before I caught the contact name: My Little Trouble. The words stung my exhausted eyes. “Carter… I just had a nightmare,” her voice whined through the speaker, breathless and needy. “I’m so scared. Can you come over?” Without a second of hesitation, his voice melted into liquid velvet. “Take a deep breath. I’m on my way.” He hung up and turned to me, already grabbing his keys. “Don’t listen to the tabloids, Cam. Maddie was just having a breakdown over your parents’ death. I took her out to distract her. She’s like a little sister to me, you know that.” What kind of brother fucks his sister on a mahogany table and gets her pregnant? And they were my parents. I was the one who had lost everything. “You’ve been running yourself ragged with the funeral preparations. Get some sleep,” he said, already halfway out the door. “Maddie’s having a panic attack. I need to go check on her.” As he rushed out, his wallet slipped from his coat pocket, landing on the hardwood floor. I picked it up. Through blurry, bloodshot eyes, I saw the photo in the ID window. It used to be a picture of us on our college campus. Now, it was a Polaroid of him and Maddie, kissing against a sunset. I walked into the living room, took down our framed wedding photo, and methodically smashed the glass, taking a pair of shears to the canvas until it was confetti. I slipped off the wedding band I had worn for five years and dropped it into the coffee grounds in the trash can. Then, I went upstairs and started packing. Halfway through folding a sweater, my phone buzzed with an incoming text from an unknown number. It was a photo. A man standing in a steamy bathroom, his perfectly sculpted torso bare. A woman’s manicured hand was tracing the jagged, faded scar across his abdomen. It was the scar Carter got five years ago when he took a knife for me during a mugging. He had been covered in his own blood, gripping my hand with trembling fingers as we waited for the ambulance. “I’ll always protect you, Cam,” he had whispered. The boy who had slain dragons for me had become the monster tearing me apart. I stood there like a ghost, letting the tears fall in silence, until the sudden shrill of my ringtone shattered the quiet. It was Maddie. I answered. Her voice was husky, languid—the unmistakable sound of a woman who had just been thoroughly satisfied. “Did you ever actually satisfy him, Cam?” she purred. “He took me three times today, and all it took was one phone call for him to drop you in the middle of the night and come running back for more.” When I didn’t answer, she laughed. It was a sharp, grating sound. “Cat got your tongue? Still crying over those old fossils? God, you should have seen it, Cam. The way the semi-truck just crushed them into ground meat. It was so… messy.” Pure, unadulterated hatred spiked through my veins, turning the blood to ice. Ten years ago, my parents found her freezing by the side of a highway, covered in infections, half-dead. They took her in. They raised her. Five years ago, they even paid out of pocket for her to study abroad. But when she came back last year, everything shifted. Jewelry went missing. When my parents caught her stealing and gently reprimanded her, she threw a hysterical fit, screaming that they always treated her like an outsider, and threatened to slit her wrists. Strange men started sneaking out of her bedroom window. When my parents tried to talk to her about respecting herself and offered to set her up with decent, hardworking guys, she went to the country club and told everyone they were trying to sell her off to old men for money. At first, Carter thought she was out of line, too. But then, one night after he came back from a VIP club downtown, his tune changed. “I think you guys have Maddie all wrong. She’s not a bad kid.” “She’s working bottle service to pay for her master’s. Some trust-fund kid offered her ten grand to sleep with him, and she dumped a bottle of champagne over his head.” I remembered the faint, intrigued smile playing on Carter’s lips when he told me. “The kid’s got fire.” Later, when my parents realized Maddie was beyond saving and threatened to cut her out of the will, she poisoned our elderly golden retriever. When my father, blind with grief and rage, finally raised a hand to discipline her, Carter had stepped in, taking the blow to his own shoulder. Maddie had collapsed against his chest, sobbing beautifully. “It’s okay, Carter. If they think I’m that toxic, I should have just let the dogs kill me on the streets. I shouldn’t have fought back…” I used to look at Carter, fiercely defending this broken girl, and think it was a testament to his kind heart. I didn’t know they were already sleeping together. “You can have Carter,” I said into the receiver, my voice dead flat. “But I am going to watch you rot in a cell for what you did to my parents.” The second the sun came up, I drove to the precinct. They had murdered my family. I was going to make them pay. 3. As I pulled back into the driveway later that morning, Maddie was strolling up the walkway, a sickly-sweet smile plastered on her face. “Where have you been, sis?” I ignored her, stepping around her toward the front door. Suddenly, she let out a dark, mocking chuckle. “What are you going to do now, Cam?” She reached out to grab my arm. The second her manicured fingertips brushed my sleeve, she violently threw her own weight backward, stumbling and collapsing hard against the stone pillar of the porch. “Ahhh!” she shrieked, clutching her stomach as she crumpled to the concrete. I stared at her in shock. Before my brain could even process the performance, a massive force slammed into my shoulder. I was thrown backward, my head cracking sickeningly against the edge of the stone steps. Warm blood instantly gushed down my temple, blinding my left eye. Carter was on his knees, pulling Maddie into his chest, his face pale with a kind of terror I had never seen him direct at me. “Maddie! Are you okay?!” She buried her face in his shirt, hyperventilating. “I… I just wanted to comfort her, Carter,” she sobbed hysterically. “But she called me a whore and said she wanted me dead to avenge them.” Carter’s face turned to absolute granite. When he looked at me, his eyes were black with disgust. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” he roared. “She lost them too! She’s grieving just as much as you are. Apologize to her. Now.” “I didn’t even touch her!” I gasped, clutching my bleeding head. “She threw herself—” Maddie wailed louder. “Carter… my stomach… it hurts so bad!” Carter’s pupils dilated. He scooped her up effortlessly. “I’ve got you. We’re going to the hospital.” Of course he was panicking. She was carrying his precious heir. Blood dripped steadily off my chin onto my blouse. Watching him carry another woman away, the pain in my chest finally eclipsed the physical agony of my fractured skull. I literally forgot how to breathe. Carter knew I was a germaphobe. He knew I hated anyone else driving my car. But he kicked open the door to the Range Rover my parents had bought me and laid her in the backseat. As he reversed, his eyes finally caught my reflection in the side mirror—the sheer amount of blood soaking my clothes. The SUV jerked to a violent halt. “Get in,” he barked through the window. “We’ll get you patched up.” He practically shoved me into the passenger side, but my eyes immediately caught the state of the leather seats. They were scratched and scuffed. And crumpled on the floor mat was a pair of pink lace underwear. Carter snatched them up instantly, his jaw tight as he refused to meet my eyes. “It’s Maddie’s time of the month. She changed in the car the other day and forgot them. Don’t be crazy.” Looking at his handsome profile—the face that used to make my heart skip a beat—knowing he had defiled my car with her, all I felt was a rising tide of physical nausea. Maybe the guilt was eating at him, because out of nowhere, his tone softened. “Cam… once the mourning period is over, we’re going to have the wedding. The biggest, most beautiful wedding you can imagine.” Carter came from nothing. When we got our marriage license, he insisted we keep it quiet. He wanted to wait until he was successful enough to give me a wedding fit for a queen. For five years, I pulled every string my family had to get him investors. I stayed up with him through all-nighters until he ended up in the ER with a bleeding ulcer. I helped him build his empire from a garage startup to Carter Enterprises. And the wedding was always pushed back. Always “next year.” Now, he was finally offering it. I sat completely still, my eyes empty. “I don’t want it anymore, Carter.” His face hardened instantly. “Fine. Suit yourself.” He didn’t look at me again, slamming his foot on the gas and speeding toward the emergency room. The house was empty again. I sat in the driveway, raising a shaking hand to wipe the sticky, cooling blood from my cheek. He wanted to play dirty. Fine. I reached into my pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper I had found under the floor mat while he was distracted—a wire transfer receipt from Maddie’s bank account to a known offshore fixer. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in years. That night, squad cars rolled up to the private hospital. Standing at the end of the sterilized corridor, I watched the detectives walk into Maddie’s VIP suite, arrest warrant in hand. 4. But the satisfying image of Maddie being led out in handcuffs never materialized. A few minutes later, Carter escorted the detectives back into the hallway, shaking their hands with a smooth, apologetic smile. “We’ll consider it a misunderstanding, Mr. Carter. Have a good night.” “Thank you, officers. My wife is just completely unhinged by the grief. I apologize for the false alarm.” “Totally understandable. We’re sorry for your loss.” What the hell was happening? I stumbled forward, dizzy from the concussion, pointing a shaking finger at Maddie, who was peeking out from behind Carter’s broad shoulders. “I didn’t make a false report! She paid someone to run them off the road! She’s a murderer!” Maddie pressed a delicate hand over her mouth, shrinking against Carter. “She’s completely lost her mind, Carter… she’s scaring me.” “You sociopathic bitch, you’re going to burn in hell!” I screamed, lunging at her. Before I could reach her, Carter’s private security detail grabbed me by the arms and threw me to the linoleum floor. The stitches on my temple tore open. My knees slammed into the tile so hard they went entirely numb. Carter looked down at me, his eyes entirely devoid of warmth. Just cold irritation. “Your parents are dead. The drunk driver who hit them confessed. What does any of that have to do with Maddie? Look at yourself, Cam. Look how ugly your jealousy makes you.” I held up the crumpled bank receipt, my voice hoarse. “This is the wire transfer! She hired the driver!” “You’re going to waste the department’s time over a receipt for a designer handbag?” The lead detective sighed, looking at me with pity. “Ma’am, Mr. Carter already provided us with the toxicology report. Your father was driving under the influence. It was a tragic accident. Please stop harassing this young woman.” A freezing terror shot straight from my heels to the crown of my head. Carter knew my father had been sober for twenty years. He didn’t even keep wine in the house. Carter had fabricated the autopsy. He was pinning my parents’ murder on my dead father to protect his mistress. The detectives disappeared around the corner. I curled up on the freezing hospital floor, every ounce of fight draining out of me. Mom… Dad… I’m so sorry. Carter sighed heavily, crouching down and reaching for my arm. “Are you done throwing this tantrum? Get up. The floor is cold, you’re going to hurt the baby.” He still had the audacity to pretend he cared? “I know you don’t like Maddie. But I am not going to let you frame her to soothe your own grief.” He brushed his thumb over my knuckles. “I promise, as long as you behave, I’ll take care of you forever.” Take care of me? By letting my family’s killer walk free? By helping her cover it up? And as for my baby… she was already gone. Gone the morning I heard them laughing about tossing her in the trash. The last thread holding my heart together snapped. I violently shoved him away. “Don’t touch me! I want a divorce! I am going to see you both rot in federal prison if it’s the last thing I do!” Carter froze. A dark, terrifying shadow crossed his face. His jaw locked. “You think you can just leave me, Camilla?” he hissed. “You have no one left. Where the hell do you think you’re going to go?” Maddie stepped out from the doorway, crossing her arms with a smug, victorious smirk. “Revenge? Who’s going to help you, Cam? Nobody in this city is going to cross Carter.” The pure, unfiltered hatred boiling in my chest made me want to vomit blood. I scrambled up and lunged, aiming a slap squarely at her perfectly contoured face. “You monster!” But my wrist was caught mid-air. Carter gripped my arm with bone-crushing force. His face contorted into something genuinely demonic—a brutal, violent rage I didn’t recognize. “If you want to act like a rabid animal, you’ll be punished like one. Whichever hand you try to use to hurt Maddie, I’ll take it from you.” He didn’t even have to speak. At his look, one of the bodyguards unclipped a tactical combat knife and pressed the hilt into Carter’s palm. Carter slammed my right hand onto the tile floor, pinning it beneath his knee. I thrashed wildly, screaming, the terror finally breaking my mind. “No! Carter, please, no! Don’t do this!” But his eyes were dead. He raised the heavy steel blade high above his head. As Maddie’s hysterical laughter echoed down the hallway, I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the agony. Crack. A heavy combat boot came flying out of nowhere, colliding with Carter’s wrist. The knife spun through the air, clattering harmlessly against the wall, missing my fingers by a millimeter. “Who the fuck thinks they can touch my little sister?”

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My daughter was in the operating room fighting for her life, and I made fifty phone calls. Ethan Foster didn’t answer a single one. When someone finally picked up, his first love’s saccharine voice came through: “Mr. Foster is cutting cake for my dog right now. Call back later.” In the background, I heard Ethan’s gentle voice coaxing: “Good boy. Eat this piece of meat, and then let daddy hold you.” He played father to a dog, but refused to spare a single glance for his own daughter. When my daughter’s eyes closed for the last time, her little hand still clutched the card she’d drawn for her father. I calmly signed the papers and burned that card to ash. Ethan Foster, we’re done. Lila Hart POV I sat in the hospital corridor until dawn broke. White walls, white lights—everything so blindingly white. The thin piece of paper in my hand was Nina’s death certificate. I’d gripped the edges so hard they’d frayed, just like my heart being torn apart. I mechanically dialed the fiftieth call. This time, it finally connected. But the voice that came through wasn’t my husband Ethan Foster’s. It was his first love, Mandy White, her tone cloying with a hint of irritation at being disturbed. “Mr. Foster is cutting cake for my Fluffy right now, Lila. Whatever it is, talk to him later.” Fluffy was Mandy’s dog. Before she’d even finished speaking, Ethan’s familiar yet foreign gentle voice came through in the background. He was coaxing a golden retriever. “Fluffy, be good. Eat this meat, and then let daddy hold you.” Daddy… He played father to a dog, but refused to look at his own flesh and blood one last time. When Nina closed her eyes, her tiny hand still clutched the card she’d spent all afternoon drawing—a crayon family portrait of the three of us, wobbly and imperfect. I don’t know how I signed those documents, how I walked out of that building that had swallowed my daughter, or how I made it back to this villa we called “home.” I slid the key into the lock and turned it. The door clicked open with a “click,” and a wave of warmth rushed out—mixed scents of cream, expensive aromatherapy, and pet shampoo. That warm, pleasant smell clashed violently with the cold disinfectant that had soaked into my clothes. The living room blazed with light. Ethan’s tall figure crouched on the expensive handwoven carpet, holding an imported silent hair dryer, patiently blow-drying that golden retriever called “Fluffy.” Beside him, Mandy wore nothing but his loose white dress shirt. Her bare legs swung back and forth, making my eyes hurt. When she saw me, Mandy immediately pulled the collar tighter and put on that pitiful expression I’d seen a thousand times. “Lila, you’re back… I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault for not watching Fluffy properly. He accidentally fell in the pool and got so scared. Ethan was worried about him, so he rushed back.” Playing the victim. What a performance. I ignored her. My eyes locked onto Ethan. Those hands—long-fingered, clean, elegant. Once upon a time, I’d imagined those hands holding our daughter gently. But from birth to death, the most intimate contact Nina ever got from him was the occasional touch. Now, those same hands rubbed the dog’s head with infinite care and tenderness. My throat felt like it had been scraped raw with sandpaper. Each word came out bloody. “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Ethan finally deigned to lift his head. He turned off the dryer, and the room fell silent. That handsome face showed undisguised disgust and impatience. He smirked like he’d heard the joke of the year. “Lila, to trick me into coming back, you’d even lie about our daughter being critically ill? Can’t you come up with something classier?” His gaze swept over my wrinkled clothes, stained with god-knows-what. His nose wrinkled in displeasure, and he actually took half a step back. “You reek of disinfectant. It’s nauseating.” He waved his hand like shooing away a disgusting fly. “Stay away from Fluffy.” Disinfectant? I looked down numbly and finally saw the dried, dark red trace on my sleeve. Nina’s blood. But to him, it was just an unpleasant smell that might bother his precious dog.

Lila Hart POV My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, then slowly submerged in ice water. The cold spread to my limbs, freezing everything. On the dining table sat a thermal container I’d brought before leaving. Inside was chicken soup I’d simmered for three hours, hoping Nina could have something warm after her surgery. Ethan noticed it too. He stood up, his long legs carrying him straight over. “Click.” The container opened. Rich aroma instantly filled the space. “Smells good,” he commented. A ridiculous hope flickered in my heart. Perhaps… The next second, he picked up the container and tilted it. That soup I’d so carefully prepared for my daughter—soup she never got to taste—he poured every last drop into the golden retriever’s gleaming steel bowl without hesitation. The thick broth hit the bottom with a muffled “plop.” “Fluffy got scared today. He deserves something good.” Ethan’s tone was casual. The golden retriever wagged its tail excitedly and immediately buried its head in the bowl, making happy gulping sounds. That sound was like a dull knife, sawing back and forth across my already shredded heart. The world went completely silent. From my worn bag, I pulled out the divorce agreement I’d printed but never touched since. I gently placed it on the coffee table in front of him. Ethan’s gaze shifted from the bowl to the papers. He sneered. “You’re throwing another tantrum? Lila, can’t you give it a rest for one day?” He seemed to find my very existence unbearable. He waved his hand dismissively, about to sweep those pages to the floor. But his hand struck something I’d been clutching in my palm. The card warmed by my daughter’s hand. The card flew out lightly, landing directly in Fluffy’s water bowl nearby. I could clearly see Nina’s red crayon heart—drawn with all her strength—instantly blur and fade upon touching the water, dissolving into a dirty smudge along with the crooked words “Daddy I love you.” That was the last tangible trace Nina left in this world. Ethan knew nothing of what he’d done. He didn’t even glance down, still looking at me with that superior attitude, probably waiting for me to break down crying and begging pitifully like I’d done countless times before. But I didn’t. I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. I just slowly, step by step, walked to that water bowl. Under the golden retriever’s puzzled gaze, I bent down and solemnly fished out that soaked, ruined piece of paper from the cold water. Then, right in front of him, I carefully folded that wet scrap and placed it in my breast pocket. Ethan Foster, from this moment on. You and I—we’re mortal enemies.

Lila Hart POV The bathroom. I pressed the flush button. The roar of water swept away the glaring red in the toilet bowl, as if draining the last bit of strength from my body. When the water stopped, Ethan and Mandy’s flirtatious laughter outside the door came through with needle-sharp clarity. I steadied myself against the cold wall and stood up, grabbed some tissue, and mechanically wiped the blood from my mouth. The woman in the mirror had a deathly pale face, but lips stained an eerie red with blood—like crushed roses in snow. I pulled the door open and walked out. The fever made cold seep through my bones. Each step felt like walking on cotton. In the living room, Ethan held a glass of red wine. Mandy nestled against him like a delicate bird. They were admiring a newly hung painting on the wall. That used to be my favorite spot, where Nina’s three-year-old family portrait had hung. Now it had been replaced by an expensive piece of modern art. My footsteps startled them. Ethan turned around. When he saw me, his faint smile vanished instantly. He set down his wine glass, walked over to me, his interrogating tone devoid of warmth. “Where did you hide Nina?” I said nothing. My throat felt stuffed with fire, burning so I couldn’t speak a single word. He seemed accustomed to my silence. He walked past me, heading straight upstairs. Soon, Nina’s bedroom door was shoved open roughly, banging against the wall with a dull thud. Then came his angry footsteps thundering down the stairs, each one heavier than the last, trampling my heart. “Where is she?” He grabbed my wrist, his grip painfully tight. “Lila, you think hiding the kid means I can’t do anything about it?” He yanked me so hard I stumbled and fell onto the cold carpet. Looking up at him, the fever blurred my vision into light and shadow. His face twisted in that light, grotesque and unfamiliar. This was the man I’d loved for ten years. My continued silence completely ignited his rage. He roughly released my hand, pulled out his phone, and right in front of me, called his assistant. His voice was cold and heartless. “It’s me. Freeze all of Lila Hart’s cards.” The person on the other end said something. He listened, then added with a cold laugh, “Also, all of Nina Foster’s medical insurance and trust accounts. Yes, freeze them all.” His voice was crystal clear. My fingers curled involuntarily at my sides. Nina’s medical account still held the few thousand dollars I’d scraped together through extreme frugality. I’d wanted to use it to buy Nina a burial plot that got sunlight. But now, he wouldn’t even give me that chance. My phone screen lit up. “Ding ding”—a string of messages flooded in. [Dear customer, your account ending in xxxx has been frozen.] [Your linked medical bank account has been terminated. Current balance: $0.00.] … I stared at that glaring string of zeros on the screen, suddenly finding this whole absurd situation laughably grotesque. A strange sound escaped my throat, and then I actually laughed. My laughter grew louder—dry, ugly, like a broken bellows. Ethan probably hadn’t expected this reaction. He bent down and grabbed my chin with those hands that had just signed hundred-million-dollar contracts. “Playing crazy for sympathy? Lila, I’m sick of these tricks.” He released me like he’d touched something filthy, pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his fingers, then condescendingly kicked my shin. “Before I change my mind, you’d better bring Nina back.” Just then, a woman’s scream rang out from upstairs, accompanied by the crash of breaking porcelain. It was Mandy. “Ahhh—!”

Lila Hart POV Ethan’s expression changed. He immediately turned and rushed upstairs. Moments later, he came down cradling the “frightened” Mandy. Her eyes were red, pitifully leaning against him, still holding a porcelain shard. “Ethan, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to,” she sobbed, her eyes flashing with viciousness aimed straight at me. “I wanted to help clean up the living room, but… but Lila kept looking at me that way. I got scared and dropped your favorite antique vase…” The thief crying thief. What a performance. Ethan’s patience completely ran out. “Lila, get on your knees and apologize to Mandy.” I pushed myself up from the sofa, swaying unsteadily, looking at him and the woman in his arms putting on such a convincing act. “And if I don’t?” “Don’t?” Ethan laughed, though his eyes were ice cold. “You’re a parasite who can’t survive without me. What gives you the right to defy me? Without the Foster family, you can’t even afford Nina’s medication next month!” Medication? Right. Nina’s medication. I looked at him, very calmly, and told him, word by word, with perfect clarity. “Ethan Foster, Nina doesn’t need medication anymore.” My tone was so calm it was eerie. Ethan froze. He stared at me for several seconds, then a flash of triumphant satisfaction crossed his eyes. He probably thought I’d finally broken down and was compromising. He released me and leisurely adjusted his cuffs. “Finally seeing sense? Then start by washing Mandy’s clothes. By hand. Don’t use the washing machine.” With that, he pulled Mandy close and put on a show of tender affection right in front of me. “Still scared? Don’t worry, it’s just an object. Doesn’t matter if it broke.” “But it was Lila’s…” “Don’t mention her. Bad luck.” Their public display of affection—I couldn’t hear a single word anymore. I turned around and walked step by step back to my room. The only place in this house that still belonged to me. I ignored the clothes they’d thrown messily across the bed and went straight to the closet, opening the bottom drawer. Inside lay a signed divorce agreement. Beside the agreement was a small, plain box. I reached out and gently stroked that box, as if caressing Nina’s cold cheek. Ethan Foster. It’s time for us to end this. I pulled my suitcase out of the room. That cheap case was bought years ago. The wheels had worn out, making an especially grating “rumble… rumble…” noise across the mirror-smooth marble floor. Each sound was like a death knell tolling in this lifeless house. I clutched that small, cold wooden box tightly to my chest, walking step by step toward the door as if treading on knife points. The crystal chandelier in the living room blazed brilliantly. Ethan and Mandy were intimately nestled on the sofa. His slender fingers held a small fork, lifting a piece of watermelon to Mandy’s lips with such tender care. They didn’t spare me a single glance, as if I were invisible air in this villa. Not until the suitcase wheel caught at the entrance with a dull thud did Ethan finally deign to lift those aristocratic eyes. He saw the suitcase at my feet. He paused, then that handsome face showed a mocking sneer, as if this outcome was exactly what he’d expected. His gaze eventually landed on the box in my arms like a poisoned nail, piercing deep. “Lila, where do you think you’re going?” Mandy spoke first. She sat up straight from Ethan’s embrace, her face showing innocent surprise, but those eyes were like two slithering snakes, coiling around the box I held. “What you’re holding… that looks like company property, doesn’t it?” She tilted her head, her tone deliberately uncertain. “I remember that wooden box—Ethan uses it specifically for core design blueprints… Ethan, those are vital to the company’s next quarter. You’d better check!”

Lila Hart POV That sentence was like a match, precisely thrown into the powder keg of suspicion in Ethan’s heart. BOOM— He shot to his feet, his expensive suit pants showing not a single wrinkle. In a few strides he stood before me, his towering figure creating an oppressive presence that engulfed me completely in his shadow. “Hand it over.” He extended his hand, voice cold as ice, tone filled with the arrogance of someone accustomed to giving orders. Like a startled hedgehog, I instinctively clutched the box even tighter to my chest, my body trembling uncontrollably from enormous fear and rage. “There’s nothing of yours in here.” My voice was hoarse and dry. “Nothing?” He acted like he’d heard the world’s biggest joke, his patience evaporating instantly. He grabbed my wrist, the force feeling like it would crush my bones. “Lila, what game are you playing now? Playing hard to get? Hmm?” “Let go! Ethan Foster, let go of me!” I struggled like a madwoman, my other hand beating wildly at his arm. But my strength, weakened from long illness, was nothing against him—like a fluttering moth, laughable and powerless. He easily pried my fingers open, snatched that small wooden box from my arms, and held it high above his head. In that moment, I felt like half my soul had been ripped away. “Lila, you’ll stop at nothing to get attention, won’t you?” He shook the box in his hand, looking at me with eyes full of contempt and bottomless disgust. “Tell me, what new prop for your little act is in here? Or are you trying to steal company secrets to force me to compromise?” My legs gave out. I collapsed pathetically onto the cold floor. I looked up at him, at the box in his hand that contained everything that was left of my daughter. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, flooding down. Like a lunatic, I crawled forward on my knees, making dull thuds. “Ethan, please, give it back to me… give it back…” “That’s Nina… that’s Nina…” My voice shattered, tasting of blood. “Nina?” The mockery on Ethan’s face instantly froze, replaced by a kind of offended, violent malice. “You’re vicious enough to use a dead child in your act? Or are you trying to curse me with her name?” In his eyes, I was exactly that kind of woman—snake-hearted, stopping at nothing to achieve my goals. My pleas, my tears, my everything—all just a carefully orchestrated performance. He let go. “CRACK—” That small wooden box traced a desperate arc before my eyes and smashed hard onto the floor. Shattered into pieces. White ash, fine as frost, mixed with black wooden fragments, scattered everywhere across the floor. Time seemed to hit mute in that moment. I couldn’t hear Mandy’s shocked cries, couldn’t see Ethan’s cold face. My world contained only that mess of pale powder. That was my Nina. The little girl who would act spoiled in my arms, call me “Mommy” in her sweet baby voice, secretly slip candy into my pocket. This was all that remained after she’d been cremated for three days and nights. Seconds later, an inhuman, piercing wail tore from my throat. “AHHHHH—!” I threw myself forward like a madwoman, trying to scoop it up, to gather those ashes now mixed with floor dust. “My Nina… my daughter… Mommy’s so sorry…” My nails scraped across the hard floor, leaving bloody trails. Wooden splinters embedded in my fingertips. Blood quickly seeped out, staining a small patch of gray-white powder into dirty brown. But I felt no pain. All the pain in the world couldn’t compare to one ten-thousandth of this. “Ew! So disgusting!” Mandy shrieked, retreating two steps in revulsion, delicately hiding in Ethan’s arms. “Ethan, look at Lila. Has she gone insane… she’s making such a mess of the floor…” Ethan frowned, watching me writhe on the ground like a maggot. The disgust on his face deepened. He pulled out his phone and made an internal call, his voice utterly flat. “Housekeeper Brown, bring the vacuum to the living room. Clean up this filth on the floor.” Vacuum… He was going to treat my daughter’s ashes like garbage and vacuum them away.

Lila Hart POV I desperately shielded that small pile of gray-white powder in front of me, my nails embedded so deeply into the floor cracks from excessive force that they drew streaming blood. I slowly raised my head. My bloodshot eyes, like those of a demon from hell, locked onto him with deadly intensity. Ethan Foster, you will regret this. I swore it with every ounce of my being. Housekeeper Brown soon arrived with the vacuum, freezing in place when she saw the scene before her, at a loss. “Sir…” “What are you waiting for? Clean it up!” Ethan snapped impatiently. The vacuum made a “whirr—” of preparation, that sound like death’s summons. I closed my eyes in despair. Just then— “BANG!” The villa door was kicked open from outside. A tall figure charged in wrapped in frigid air—it was Adrian Cloud! Adrian Cloud was my former classmate. After learning about my daughter’s condition, he’d often come to help me. His eyes immediately found me kneeling on the floor, covered in blood, and the glaring gray-white powder at my feet. Adrian’s eyes instantly turned red. He crossed to Ethan in two strides and without a word of warning, drove his fist hard into Ethan’s face! “Ethan Foster, are you even human?!” Ethan staggered from the blow, blood immediately appearing at his mouth. He clutched his face, but before he could get angry, a piece of paper slapped across his face. “Open your damn eyes and look! What is this!” It was a death certificate. The name read “Nina Foster.” The time of death was frozen at the exact moment he’d been celebrating Mandy’s dog’s birthday. Ethan’s body went rigid. He picked up the paper in disbelief, his fingers trembling. “It’s fake… this has to be fake!” He roared at me like a madman. “Lila! You conspired with outsiders to trick me?!” I watched his frantic state and suddenly smiled. I swayed unsteadily to my feet, and with my bleeding hands, I carefully scooped up a handful of ash mixed with blood and dust. I walked toward him. Ethan was momentarily stunned by my appearance, actually forgetting to move. I raised my hand and gently, inch by inch, smeared that ash across his flawlessly handsome face. My tone was so gentle it was bone-chilling. “Ethan Foster, don’t you want to see your daughter?” “Smell it. This is what your daughter smells like.” “Isn’t it lovely?” “This is her. The one you smashed with your own hands.” Ethan stood as if struck by lightning, his entire body shaking violently, all color draining from his face. He tried to speak but couldn’t utter a single word. I withdrew my hand and without sparing him another glance, turned to Adrian. “Take me away.” “Lila!” Ethan finally snapped out of it, roaring as he tried to grab me. I whirled around and with the last shred of strength in my body, slapped him hard across the face! “CRACK!” Clear and loud. The entire living room fell silent. I leaned close to his ear and in a voice only we two could hear, pronounced clearly, word by word: “Ethan Foster, I will make you, your precious first love, and that dog all pay with your lives for my daughter.”

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After ten years of marriage, I finally got pregnant with the heir to the Sawyer family. On the day of my prenatal checkup, I caught my husband accompanying his first love through childbirth. An hour later, Ethan Sawyer ordered someone to abort my baby and gently coaxed me, “Be good, Aria. Madeline’s health is fragile. Can you let this one go, just this once?” When I didn’t respond, my mother, Clara, slapped me across the face. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble? If it weren’t for you back then, Madeline and Ethan would never have broken up. Think of this baby as your way of atoning to her.” Afraid I’d disturb Madeline during her postpartum recovery, Ethan had my mother take me away. I was sent to the old house in the southern district. The place was chosen specifically because snakes, insects, and rodents frequently appeared there—and I was terrified of these cold-blooded creatures. After Ethan left, my mother sneered coldly. “Your father killed Gabriel. You stole Madeline’s man. Both of you deserve to die.” Watching my lips turn purple, my mother remained unmoved. I struggled to call Ethan for help, but he said, “Aria, you don’t need to do this. You’ll always be my wife, but Madeline—I’ll always owe her.” Ethan didn’t believe me. My mother ignored me. At that moment, I finally understood the destructive power of first love. Not just on Ethan, but on my mother too. I thought, this is fine. Ten years—any debt of gratitude should be repaid by now.

When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. The nurse told me, “Lucky thing someone passing by found you, otherwise you would’ve lost that leg.” Just as I was about to thank her, my mother’s call came through. “Who gave you permission to leave? Aria, are you scheming to harm Madeline again?” My mother’s hysterical voice sounded like she hated me to the bone. Before I could respond, she scoffed coldly. “Aria, you forced my hand.” I didn’t know what my mother would do, but I knew she wouldn’t let me off. Before, for Madeline’s sake, my mother had directly destroyed my father’s grave. She’d said, “Your daughter deserves to die. Now you can atone for her first.” Thinking of this, I quickly called back, only to discover I’d been blocked. I stared helplessly at my phone, still unable to understand. My mother used to treat me well, but ever since I married Ethan, she changed. I still remember how my mother had said, “If you insist on marrying Ethan, I’ll kill myself.” It was only after Ethan talked to her that she reluctantly agreed to our marriage. After the wedding, my mother rarely contacted me. Instead, she grew close to Ethan. It wasn’t until Madeline returned to the country that I understood why. That day was also my birthday, but they both stood me up. Later, they all appeared on Madeline’s social media. That’s when I learned that Madeline was Ethan’s first love, and she was also the daughter of my mother’s first love. How wonderful to be someone’s first love. But me? I was nothing.

My phone suddenly rang, interrupting my thoughts. It was a call from Rose’s nursing home. (My grandmother, Rose.) That uneasy feeling instantly peaked. I quickly answered. “Is this Mrs. Spencer’s family member?” “Yes, I am, I…” “Please come to the nursing home immediately. Your grandmother is dying.” Ignoring the doctor’s warnings, I took a cab straight to the nursing home. But I was still a step too late. Rose had already left me. At that moment, I felt my life was hopeless—until the caregiver showed me the surveillance footage. I saw Ethan bringing Madeline to see Rose. They said, “Aria deliberately framed Madeline and tried to secretly give birth to my child. She deserves to die. It’s all your fault, you old thing, for failing to raise her properly.” My grandmother kept kowtowing. But Ethan remained unmoved. When Madeline said, “Your granddaughter sleeps with old men every day,” Ethan even nodded along. That’s what drove my grandmother to her death. I cried until I was exhausted, until I had no voice left. Ethan, how dare you? Don’t you remember at all? My grandmother watched you grow up. I know I was wrong. Crying, I dialed a number I knew by heart. “You saw everything, didn’t you? My child is gone. I really can’t handle Ethan anymore. Please let me go. My grandmother is dead. I really can’t hold on anymore.” “Yes, your family saved my father and grandmother back then, but now both my father and grandmother are dead because of your family. The debt is repaid, isn’t it? I won’t hold Ethan accountable, but I want a divorce.” Margaret Sawyer (Ethan’s mother) kept apologizing to me. But what good were apologies? My grandmother would never come back. “Alright, I agree.” She booked me a flight for ten days later and promised to help me divorce Ethan. Satisfied, I hung up and sent my mother a message. After all, Rose had passed away—surely she should attend the funeral. For three days, my mother didn’t call once. I was even cursed out on social media. In a mother’s tone, she tearfully said, “I never imagined my daughter could be this kind of person—stealing someone’s beloved, causing her own father and grandmother’s deaths. Can I really keep someone like this? Can you tell me what I should do?” My mother fabricated a perfect lie, with a clear chain of evidence to support it. I wanted to cry but had no tears left. After doing all this, watching me trend on social media, my mother sent me a message: [Hurry up and divorce Ethan. Don’t stand in the way of Madeline’s happiness.] This time I replied: [Fine.] My mother didn’t believe I truly wanted to divorce Ethan. She called to curse at me, saying I was playing hard to get. “Your grandmother is dead. Do you really think anyone will support you now?”

“Clara, you’re my mother. My grandmother was your mother-in-law. Today is her funeral, and she was literally driven to death by Ethan and Madeline. You…” “Enough. If anyone’s to blame, it’s you.” I could imagine my mother’s teeth-gritting expression even through the phone. She said a whole string of things, every sentence stabbing at my heart. I thought, fine. This is it. My mother’s love for me was truly gone. “Clara, if you get Ethan to attend Rose’s funeral, I’ll divorce him.” “What are you scheming now?” My mother still didn’t trust me. She started cursing me, saying I’d die a horrible death, that I’d never bear children. “If Ethan doesn’t come, I’ll never divorce him, even if it kills me. That way, your precious Madeline will be a mistress forever.” I said all this expressionlessly, then hung up. I knew my mother would make Ethan come, because she cared so much about Madeline. Sure enough, halfway through the funeral, Ethan appeared. It wasn’t that I insisted he come. I just wanted Rose to leave with dignity. At the funeral, I was the only family member. Everyone else was pointing and whispering. “Doesn’t the old lady have a daughter-in-law?” “Why didn’t she come?” “Yeah, I heard this granddaughter has a husband too. What’s going on?” “Tsk, abandoned in her old age.” I knew my mother wouldn’t come. Even if she did, she wouldn’t treat my grandmother kindly—she’d probably condemn her in front of all these people. After all, she’d done it before. When Rose discovered my mother treated Madeline better than me, she was furious. She pointed at my mother and demanded, “Why? She’s your biological daughter! Have you lost your mind?” “Yes, I have lost my mind—to have married your son in the first place.” That’s what put my grandmother in a wheelchair. “Aria, Rose…” Ethan seemed shocked that Rose had truly died. Seeing the shock in Ethan’s eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh mockingly. “What are you pretending for? Didn’t you and Madeline go to the nursing home together? Said all those horrible things and drove my grandmother to her death—didn’t you expect this?” “Enough, Aria. We didn’t expect things to turn out this way. Besides, don’t you have any fault in this yourself?” It was still my fault. My fault for trusting my mother. My fault for loving you. “Fine. This is my grandmother’s funeral. I don’t want to argue with you. After this is over, I’ll divorce you.” “I don’t want to divorce you. Stop making a scene. Madeline is still heartbroken. Go back and apologize to her properly, and all this will pass.” “Apologize?” What did I do wrong that I need to apologize? “Those things your mother posted online—even though they’re not true, they still involved Madeline. Now people suspect Madeline is a mistress. How can she not be upset?” “Isn’t she though?” Sleeping with my husband, bearing my husband’s child—if that’s not a mistress, what is? *Slap…* Ethan, as if pushed to his limit, slapped me across the face. “Aria, for Rose’s sake, I didn’t want to make things difficult for you. Do you have to do this?”

At that moment, I felt no pain—only the increasingly strange looks from people around me. I was wrong again. How could I pin my hopes on Ethan? I looked at Rose’s smiling portrait and apologized over and over. I’d messed everything up. Seeing my silence, Ethan finally came to his senses. He wanted to apologize, but I stopped him. Ethan didn’t stay with me for the rest of the funeral because Madeline called saying something happened to the baby. Ethan left in a rush without even telling me. That day when I returned home, I discovered I couldn’t get in. I tried for a while but couldn’t open the door. Then my mother came out from inside. “Get lost. Madeline is living here now. She doesn’t want to see you.” “I bought this house!” I demanded loudly. My mother sneered coldly. “So what? It’s under your father’s name now. We’re married. If I don’t want you living here, you can’t.” Then my mother threw my things out. She said, “If you’re smart, hurry up and divorce Ethan.” That was the last thing my mother said to me. Helplessly, I dragged my suitcase away. Suddenly I didn’t know where to go. As soon as I reached the street, a group of people blocked my way. I didn’t know these people, but they punched and kicked me. They called me a demon, said I deserved to die. From what they said, I knew they were Madeline’s fans. Madeline was a minor influencer with many supporters online. They said, “Divorce Mr. Sawyer right now, and maybe we’ll let you off.” I pulled out the divorce agreement. “I’ve already signed it. I won’t cling to Ethan.” “Smart move.” That day they also filmed a video. My disheveled appearance was posted online and mocked by countless people. Ethan’s company was affected as a result. I knew this was Margaret’s doing. She’d called me before coordinating with the trending topic. “I wanted Ethan to sign the divorce papers without knowing, but he discovered it, and he doesn’t want to divorce.” “But now, for the company’s sake, he’ll definitely compromise first. He’ll probably propose a fake divorce. Agree to it—I’ll make it a real divorce. Though you’ll suffer some grievances.” “Just rumors and gossip. It’s not like I haven’t faced them before. As long as I can divorce Ethan, I’ll do anything.” “I’m sorry, child.” She really was sorry. Back then, when Madeline left Ethan for fame and fortune, Margaret found me and asked me to help Ethan through the darkest period of his life. Later, when Ethan moved past his heartbreak, he held me and said, “Even though my love with Madeline was unforgettable, I only want to be with you now. I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” Unfortunately, men’s promises are like farts—gone once released. That night, Ethan found me looking dejected. “I’m sorry, Aria. I didn’t expect things to turn out this way.” “Let’s get divorced, okay?” “Okay.” Seeing my agreement, Ethan quickly explained, “It’s a fake divorce. Once the company gets through this period, it’ll be fine.” “Okay.” I chose to play along with Ethan. He held me and made a passionate confession. But I turned a deaf ear. That day we filed for divorce. This way the process would be faster. Looking at the proof confirming our divorce, I smiled wistfully. Finally—finally free of this man. For the rest of my life, I never wanted to see him again. I cursed him—may he never meet anyone better than me for the rest of his life. Let him be continuously hurt by Madeline, the woman who hurt him once before. That day, Margaret transferred a large sum of money to me. I transferred part of it to my mother with a note: Retirement fund. I sent my mother a message: [According to government-mandated support, I’ve given you more than enough. This money is the last connection between us as mother and daughter. Take care of yourself from now on.] I visited my father and grandmother one last time, then went to the airport. Before boarding, I posted the presentation I’d compiled during this period online. Why should I sacrifice myself to make them comfortable? Since Ethan always thought Madeline was such a wonderful person, I had to let him know exactly what kind of goods he’d fallen in love with. The moment the plane took off, Madeline’s name hit the trending searches. When Ethan’s assistant found him with his phone, he was playing with the baby. Seeing the trending topic, he nearly dropped the child to the floor. “How is this possible?”

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“Five million dollars. Keep tabs on Mia, and tell me the second she breaks down.” Gideon pushed the check across the desk toward me, his eyes filled with calculation. I picked up the check, verified the amount three times, and slipped it into my bag. “Don’t worry, Gideon. Last night Mia cried her eyes out in the bathroom over you. She even said she’d transfer that oceanfront villa under her name to you as a birthday gift.” Gideon smiled with satisfaction. Walking out of the office, I pulled out my phone and hit save on the recording. Mia would indeed stop breathing. But not until three years from now, when Gideon would have her committed to a psychiatric hospital and killed by electroshock therapy. I looked at the balance in my account and dialed Mia’s number. “Hello, Mia? Your husband just paid me five million to be his spy. How should we split this money?” Evelyn’s POV My name is Evelyn. I’m a scholarship student sponsored by the billionaire Lancaster family, and Mia’s personal assistant. To the outside world, I’m Mia’s lapdog. I bite whoever she points at, with no dignity, driven purely by profit. But they don’t know that just moments ago, when Gideon threw that check at me, a set of memories that don’t belong to me flooded into my mind. In those memories, Mia would be stripped of her entire fortune by Gideon, a man with ulterior motives. Gideon would team up with Lydia, Mia’s father’s illegitimate daughter from an affair. Together, they would gradually drive Mia insane and have her committed to a psychiatric hospital. Eventually, to claim the inheritance, they would stage a not particularly clever medical accident. And I, as Mia’s only loyal ally, would end up crushed to pulp by an out of control truck while trying to expose the truth. Standing outside Gideon’s company building, I stared at the five million dollar check in my hand. It was the largest denomination of paper currency I’d ever seen in my life. I used to think money was everything. Now I think staying alive is. Gideon’s disgusting face still lingered before my eyes. He didn’t just want me to spy on Mia. He also wanted me to slip something into Mia’s food and drinks when he told me to. Gideon called it a sedative, but I knew it was a hallucinogen. One that could destroy her mind. I didn’t refuse outright. I even haggled with Gideon and squeezed out an extra fifty thousand in hush money. Because I knew that in these billionaire family power struggles, so-called loyalty without the weight of financial incentive wouldn’t be believed by anyone. If I hadn’t taken the money, Gideon would have found someone else, or found a way to make me disappear. I hailed a taxi and headed straight to Mia’s luxury apartment in the city center. When I opened the door, the room reeked of alcohol. Mia wore a silk robe, slumped on the carpet, still clutching half a bottle of red wine, her eyes red and swollen from crying. In this state, she really did look like a woman on the verge of a breakdown. If I didn’t know that Mia had just been on a hunger strike yesterday because Gideon hadn’t replied to her messages, I might have actually thought she was mentally unstable. “Evelyn, you’re here.” Mia’s voice was hoarse when she saw me. “Did Gideon reply? Is he still busy? Am I being too unreasonable?” I didn’t answer. I walked over and snatched the wine bottle from her hand, slamming it down on the coffee table with a bang. “Gideon didn’t reply. He’s busy plotting how to get you committed to a psychiatric hospital and swallow your entire fortune.” Mia froze, then flew into a rage. “What are you talking about! Gideon isn’t like that! He just has strong pride and doesn’t like my family looking down on him!” “Is that so?” I pulled out my phone, opened the recording, and turned the volume to maximum. Gideon’s refined yet sinister voice echoed through the empty living room. “Evelyn, I know you need money. Five million, as long as you obey. That crazy woman Mia has been very emotionally unstable lately. Keep an eye on her for me. Also, if Mia does anything extreme, make sure to record it and send it to me. This isn’t just for me, it’s for Mia’s own good. After all, mental illness can hurt people if it’s not treated early.”

Evelyn’s POV Mia’s face instantly turned deathly pale. She stared at my phone as if it were a monster. “This… this must be fake, right? Evelyn, do you need money? Just tell me if you need money. Why would you make something like this to deceive me?” Mia was still being stubborn, but I could see her hands were trembling. I played another segment, the part where I haggled with Gideon. “Gideon, isn’t five million a bit low? After all, Mia’s been good to me. If I betray her, I won’t be able to survive in this circle anymore.” “Five hundred fifty thousand. Not a penny more. Evelyn, know when to be satisfied. Once I gain control of the Lancaster family, you’ll have your share of benefits.” When the recording finished, I slapped the check on the table. “This is the down payment from Gideon. The rest he said he’d give after the job is done. Mia, do you still think Gideon’s just protecting his pride?” Mia picked up the check with trembling hands. After seeing the signature and seal clearly, she suddenly let out a scream, grabbed the wine bottle, and rushed toward the door. “I’m going to kill Gideon! That bastard! I’m going to kill him!” I grabbed Mia around the waist and dragged her back, throwing her onto the sofa. “What can you do besides get yourself killed if you go now? If you charge into Gideon’s office with a wine bottle, you’ll just prove you’re mentally unstable! Gideon already has a draft of the psychiatric evaluation ready. He’s just waiting for you to make a scene!” Mia collapsed on the sofa, sobbing. She cursed while crying, cursing Gideon, cursing herself. I poured Mia a glass of warm water and watched her vent with cold eyes. “Are you done crying? If you’re done, listen to me.” I sat across from Mia. “Gideon dares to do this because he has someone backing him. That Lydia? You think she’s just Gideon’s assistant at the company? She’s your own father’s illegitimate daughter, born just a few months after you.” Mia’s head snapped up, disbelief written all over her face. “My father… that’s impossible! My father loves me so much!” “Your father loves you? If he loved you, would he make you marry a fraud like Gideon? If he loved you, would he keep you away from the core business all these years? Wake up. In your father’s eyes, you’re just a tool for marriage alliances. Now that the tool isn’t useful anymore, he wants to replace it with a new one.” I had to be harsh, or Mia would never wake up. Mia sat there in a daze, her eyes vacant, as if her entire worldview had collapsed. “Then… what should I do? Evelyn, help me. I can’t let them succeed!” Mia finally grabbed my hand, her nails digging into my flesh. It hurt, but I didn’t shake her off. “Listen. Starting today, you need to cooperate with me in putting on an act.” I leaned close to Mia and lowered my voice. “Gideon wants you to play crazy? Then you’ll go crazy for him. But you’ll do it under my control.” “This five million. I’ll take half, and the other half is your investment capital.” Mia looked at me, the fear in her eyes gradually transforming into ruthlessness. She wiped away her tears and picked up the check, kissing it fiercely. “Fine, Evelyn. I’ll listen to you. Keep all five million. As long as you can destroy them, you can have everything I own!” I smiled and put the check away. “I don’t need everything. Fair compensation for work done. Now go wash your face and change your clothes. Gideon will be back tonight. Your show is about to begin.”

Evelyn’s POV Gideon did come back. He brought Mia’s favorite mousse cake, wearing that nauseating mask of devotion on his face. “Mia, I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy with the company these past few days and neglected you.” Mia sat on the sofa, holding a pair of scissors, cutting up the designer bags Gideon had given her. The floor was littered with scraps of leather. Gideon’s eyelid twitched. He put down the cake and tried to rush over to grab the scissors. “Mia, what are you doing? Don’t hurt yourself!” Mia looked up, her eyes somewhat unfocused yet carrying a strange excitement. “Gideon, you’re back? Look, there seem to be bugs in these bags. They keep making noise. It’s giving me a headache. I cut them open and the bugs ran away.” This was the script I’d taught Mia. A touch of neurosis, but not too exaggerated. Gideon froze for a moment, then turned to look at me standing in the corner. I gave Gideon a slight nod and mouthed the words “having an episode.” A flash of barely concealed pleasure crossed Gideon’s eyes, but he hid it well, immediately putting on an expression of distress. “Mia, have you been under too much stress lately? It’s okay, I’m here. Evelyn, go call Dr. Hayes. Have him come check on Mia.” Dr. Hayes was Gideon’s college friend, now a psychiatrist at a private clinic. In the original timeline, it was Dr. Hayes who repeatedly issued false diagnoses for Mia, calling normal anxiety bipolar disorder and insomnia a precursor to schizophrenia. I’d been waiting for Dr. Hayes to make this move. “Of course, Gideon. I’ll contact him right away.” I turned toward the kitchen, pretending to make a call, but actually pulled out a packet of powerful laxatives from my bag. Dr. Hayes arrived quickly, carrying his signature silver medical case, wearing gold rimmed glasses, the very picture of a refined scumbag. “Gideon, how is Mia’s condition?” “Not good. She was just cutting bags, saying there were bugs inside. Dr. Hayes, please take a look. Has that illness gotten worse?” Gideon spoke while giving Dr. Hayes meaningful looks. Dr. Hayes understood perfectly. He sat across from Mia and began the diagnostic routine he’d rehearsed countless times. I walked over carrying water I’d just poured. “Dr. Hayes, thank you for coming. Have some water.” I deliberately handed the doctored glass to Dr. Hayes, my movements respectfully flawless. Dr. Hayes took the water without suspicion and drank a large gulp. “Miss Lancaster, have you been hearing strange voices lately? Or seeing things other people can’t see?” Mia hugged her knees, trembling. “Yes, many people are cursing me, saying I don’t deserve to live…” Her acting skills. Such a waste she wasn’t winning Best Actress awards. Gideon put his arm around Mia’s shoulders with false concern. “Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Those are hallucinations.” Less than ten minutes later, Dr. Hayes’s expression began to change. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He clutched his stomach, his face contorting. “Um… Gideon, may I use the restroom?” “Over there.” Dr. Hayes practically waddled into the bathroom with his legs squeezed together. While Gideon went to the balcony to take a call, probably reporting the situation to Lydia, I quickly walked to Dr. Hayes’s medical case on the coffee table and opened his laptop. I knew Dr. Hayes’s password. In the previous timeline, when he was on trial in court, this password was made public as evidence. It was his first love’s birthday. The computer booted up quickly. I rapidly located a folder named “Patient Files.” Inside was a medical record for Mia that had been prepared in advance, brazenly stating “severe bipolar disorder with violent tendencies, recommend involuntary hospitalization.” Besides Mia’s, there were several other false medical records of billionaire wives. Dr. Hayes was apparently a repeat offender. I pulled out a flash drive and copied the entire folder as fast as I could. The progress bar crawled agonizingly slowly. I kept my eyes on the screen while listening for sounds from the bathroom and balcony. The toilet flushed, followed by the sound of the door handle turning.

Evelyn’s POV I yanked out the flash drive, closed the laptop, and retreated to my corner, the entire process smooth as silk, though my heart was pounding like it would burst through my chest. Dr. Hayes emerged weakly, his face sallow. “Sorry, I must have eaten something bad.” He sat back down, not daring to drink any more water, and after asking a few cursory questions, pulled out a document. “Gideon, based on Mia’s current symptoms, she does show tendencies of severe bipolar disorder. I recommend starting with medication to control it. If the situation deteriorates, it would be best to send her to a professional treatment facility.” Gideon took the diagnosis, his hands trembling slightly from excitement. “Good. Whatever Dr. Hayes says. As long as Mia can be cured, money is no object.” Mia sat with her head down, shoulders shaking as if crying, but I knew she was trying not to laugh. Gideon locked the diagnosis in his safe, where he considered most secure. But I touched the burning flash drive in my pocket and smirked inwardly. That was nothing but waste paper. The real bomb was in my hands. After seeing Dr. Hayes off, Gideon was in high spirits, even giving me an approving look. “Evelyn, you did well today. From now on, make sure Mia takes the medication Dr. Hayes prescribes on time. Understood?” “Don’t worry, Gideon. I’ll make sure to watch her ‘carefully.’” I emphasized the word “carefully.” Those pills would go straight down the drain, every last one. Gideon moved faster than I’d expected. The day after obtaining the fake diagnosis, he brought Lydia home. “Mia, this is Lydia. She just returned from abroad and has nowhere to stay temporarily. You haven’t been feeling well lately, so Lydia can keep you company and cheer you up.” Lydia wore a white dress, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, that harmless smile on her face, carrying a basket of fruit. “Miss Lancaster, hello. Gideon’s mentioned you often, saying you’re beautiful and capable. Meeting you today, I see he wasn’t exaggerating.” The greeting sounded sweet, but I clearly saw the ambition and provocation hidden in Lydia’s eyes. Mia sat in a wheelchair. This was also my suggestion. If you’re going to play sick, go all in. Looking frail couldn’t hurt. Mia looked at Lydia, the pillow in her hands twisted out of shape. Last night I’d shown Mia Lydia’s file. This woman’s private life abroad had been an utter mess. She’d returned home to take over the Lancaster family business and snag Gideon, the scheming man. “If she’s Gideon’s friend, then let her stay. Evelyn, show Lydia to the guest room.” Mia’s voice was soft, sounding weak and breathless. Gideon nodded with satisfaction, seemingly surprised and pleased by Mia’s compliance. “Lydia, make yourself at home. If you need anything, just tell Evelyn.” I led Lydia upstairs. The moment she entered the guest room, the smile dropped from her face. She ran her finger disgustedly along the desk. “What kind of dump is this? So much dust. Is this how you people serve guests?” I stood in the doorway, expressionless. “Miss, this room was cleaned just yesterday. If you find it unsatisfactory, you’re welcome to clean it yourself.” Lydia turned around and looked me up and down, her eyes full of disdain. “You’re Evelyn? I heard you’re a dog Gideon bought with money? Since you’re a dog, you should act like one. Don’t bark at your master.” She pulled out a stack of bills from her bag and threw them in my face. “Take the money. From now on, you do whatever I tell you to do. Got it?” Bills scattered across the floor. I bent down and picked them up one by one. Why not take free money? This was emotional distress compensation. “You’re absolutely right. I’ll be obedient.” Lydia snorted and turned to unpack her luggage, muttering under her breath, “What a cheap bitch.” I pocketed the money, closed the door, and headed to the surveillance room.

Evelyn’s POV Yesterday, I’d already installed pinhole cameras in various corners of the Lancaster house, especially at the stairwell, living room, and Mia’s bedroom. I knew someone as scheming as Lydia would never behave herself. The first thing she’d do here was assert dominance over Mia and stage another sob story for Gideon. Sure enough, before dinner, the show began. Gideon hadn’t returned yet. Mia was reading in the second-floor sitting room. Lydia walked over carrying a cup of hot coffee, her steps deliberately swaying. “Mia, reading? Have some coffee to perk up.” Lydia approached Mia, deliberately stumbled, and the entire cup of scalding coffee flew toward Mia’s face. Mia was prepared. She dodged to the side, and the coffee splashed onto the sofa. “Oh my, I’m so sorry, Mia! I didn’t mean to!” While apologizing, Lydia took the opportunity to viciously pinch Mia’s arm. Mia cried out in pain and instinctively pushed Lydia. The push wasn’t forceful, but Lydia acted as if she’d been struck by a sledgehammer, her whole body flying backward and rolling straight down the stairs. “Help! Mia’s trying to kill me!” At that moment, the front door opened. Gideon happened to walk in. He looked up to see Lydia rolling down like a broken doll, landing at his feet with a gash on her forehead, blood flowing out. “Lydia!” Gideon dropped his briefcase and rushed over to cradle Lydia. Lydia leaned weakly against Gideon, pointing at Mia upstairs, tears streaming down her face. “Gideon… Mia… she said I was trying to seduce you… she pushed me… my head is so dizzy…” Gideon’s head snapped up, his eyes glaring viciously at Mia. “Mia! Have you lost your mind? Lydia is my friend. How could you be so vicious!” Mia stood at the top of the stairs, face pale, trembling all over. This wasn’t an act. Mia was genuinely furious at this scene and hurt by Gideon’s look. “I didn’t… Lydia did it herself…” “Shut up! I saw it with my own eyes! What excuse do you have?” Gideon stood up holding Lydia and strode outside. “I’m taking Lydia to the hospital for an examination! Mia, if anything happens to Lydia, I won’t let you off!” Mia tried to chase after them to explain, but I stopped her. “Don’t go.” I pulled Mia back to her room. “Let Gideon go.” “But Evelyn, Gideon misunderstood me! That woman did it on purpose!” Mia stamped her foot anxiously. “I know Lydia did it on purpose. Gideon probably knows too, but he just wants an excuse to blow up.” I opened my phone and pulled up the surveillance video from earlier. The footage clearly recorded how Lydia deliberately spilled the coffee, and how she deliberately used the force of Mia’s light push to jump backward and roll down the stairs. Especially that little adjustment Lydia made before rolling to protect herself. A perfect fake fall. “Look, this floor really is too hard. Lydia should wear knee pads next time she performs, or those knees are going to bruise.” I pointed at Lydia’s somewhat awkward posture on the screen and sneered. Mia watched the video and gradually calmed down, the tears in her eyes receding. “Should we… send this video to Gideon now?” “No. If we send it now, Gideon will just become angry from embarrassment and might even destroy the evidence.” I put away my phone. “We need to wait for the right moment. Like when we can slap Gideon in the face in front of everyone.”

Evelyn’s POV That night, Gideon stormed back. As soon as he entered, he slammed a diagnosis of “mild concussion” on the table. “Mia, you’re absolutely unreasonable! Lydia is such a pure and kind girl, and you could actually hurt her? Starting today, you stay in your room and reflect. Without my permission, you’re not to step one foot out!” Mia sat on the sofa holding a cup of coffee, surprisingly calm. “Gideon, are you sure I pushed Lydia?” “Of course! If not you, then who? Did Lydia roll down by herself?” “Perhaps.” I walked forward at the right moment, holding a tablet. “Gideon, to ensure the house’s security, I installed surveillance at the stairwell a couple days ago. It was meant to prevent thieves, but it captured something interesting.” Gideon’s expression changed instantly. I tapped the video and played it. In the footage, Lydia’s clumsy acting was laid bare, even capturing the look she snuck at the door to see if Gideon had come in. After watching the video, Gideon’s face turned from blue to white. What a sight. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out. “Gideon, does this count as… faking a fall for fraud?” I asked with a smile. Gideon took a deep breath, crumpled the diagnosis into a ball, and stuffed it in his pocket. “This matter… perhaps Lydia accidentally slipped. She was just frightened and spoke nonsense. Mia, since it’s a misunderstanding, let’s move on. Don’t be too petty. After all, Lydia is a guest.” That’s it? Moving on? Not even an apology? Mia was about to explode when I gently pressed her hand. “Gideon’s right. We all live under one roof. Why hold grudges? But Lydia’s balance really is concerning. She should hold the railing when using stairs from now on. Otherwise if she falls again next time, the surveillance might not always be running.” Gideon glared at me and went upstairs to Lydia’s room. I knew he was going to comfort that schemer, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that the seed of doubt had been planted in Gideon’s mind. Though he was protecting Lydia, someone as selfish as Gideon would never tolerate being played for a fool. Lydia’s sob story not only failed to hurt Mia, but actually made Lydia lose points with Gideon. This was my welcome gift to Lydia. Lydia’s fall didn’t manage to hurt Mia but left herself bruised and swollen, hiding in her room for several days without daring to show her face. But this didn’t make Gideon settle down. Soon, the Lancaster Corporation’s annual charity gala was about to begin. This was a major event in elite circles and a key step in Gideon’s plan to transfer assets. Two days before the gala, Gideon came to Mia with a thick document. “Mia, we need to set an example at this gala. I want to establish a charitable trust fund in your name and donate part of your shares in Lancaster Entertainment specifically to support education in remote areas.” It sounded noble. I stood nearby pouring water and glanced at the document. On the surface it was a charitable trust, but the terms hid traps. Though the actual controller and beneficiary were written vaguely, after layers of investigation, everything ultimately pointed to an offshore shell company belonging to Gideon. Once Mia signed, those shares would vanish into the fund, never to be seen again, while Gideon would get the reputation of a “philanthropist.” I sneered. Perfect. Using this “document,” Mia and I would prepare a surprise for Gideon.

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On my wedding day, my fiancé was taken away for raping a female student. I chased after him in my wedding dress, wanting to clear his name. Only to learn that he had turned himself in voluntarily. He said to me apologetically: “Lily’s family found out she was raped and forced her to marry the rapist. I couldn’t bear to see her end up like that, so I came forward to take the blame.” “Lily’s family said if I agree to marry her, they’ll drop the charges. Just handle the school’s inquiries and the public opinion for me.” “Lily and I agreed it’s a fake marriage for three years. After three years, I’ll make it up to you with a proper wedding. Will you wait for me?” I calmly turned and left. Casually removed my veil and placed it on a stray dog by the roadside. Ethan Miller, what makes you think I’ll wait for you? Ethan told me to return to the wedding venue immediately to appease the school leaders and calm the rumors. But I only did two things. First, I notified his school that I was withdrawing my investment in his project and closing his laboratory. Second, I left the wedding venue directly and went back to our apartment. I wiped away my tears and cleaned out every trace of Ethan from the house, one item at a time. The matching couple’s mugs we made together in our pottery class, the matching pajamas we wore every night… And the wedding photos we’d just received yesterday, carefully framed… I threw everything into the bathroom, lit them with a lighter, and watched them burn beyond recognition. Watching the flames rise, I called the wedding hotel. “I’m not getting married. Ask the groom’s side to settle the balance. Please send my things stored at the hotel to my house.” But the hotel manager’s surprised voice came through the phone. “But the groom just said the wedding is still on, just postponed by one day? He also said we got the photos and bride’s name wrong, and asked us to change the bride’s name to Lily Smith.” A sharp pain pierced my heart. That wedding was something I’d spent ten years planning, piece by piece. Whether the flowers or the decorations, everything was handmade by me over six months. Ethan clearly knew this was our dream wedding. Yet he wanted to give it to his female student? I took a deep breath, suppressing the pain in my heart, and said: “Whatever. Just send my things back. Especially the bracelet in the safe.” The manager sounded even more surprised: “But the groom already took the bracelet from the safe. He said he wanted to give it to the bride as a wedding gift.” My head exploded with a thunderous sound. I immediately hung up and frantically called Ethan. Every call I made was rejected by him. Finally, on the eighteenth attempt, he answered. With a hint of helpless irritation, he said: “Didn’t I already say not to contact me recently? I need to accompany Lily and play out this fake marriage properly. I was just chatting with Lily’s parents and almost slipped up.” My throat tightened as I hurriedly asked: “Ethan, did you take my bracelet?!” He paused, then laughed: “Yes. Lily’s mother said their custom requires a bracelet among the wedding jewelry. I thought your bracelet was heavy enough and beautiful, so I took it to give to her as a wedding gift.” But my heart still felt like it was being torn apart in pain. “Ethan Miller!!” My voice became shrill, breaking: “That was my mother’s keepsake! How dare you give it to your mistress!” 2 “Give it back! Right now! Send it back to me! Or I’ll call the police! I’ll have you both get married in prison!” I was trembling all over with rage, my words sharp as thorns. Ethan was startled by me, then became angry himself: “What are you saying! I told you it’s just acting! I’m only borrowing it! I’m not keeping it from you!” “I was planning to buy you several similar ones tomorrow as an apology gift. I didn’t expect you…” Rage surged through me. I didn’t want to hear his voice for another second. I hung up and immediately left, took a cab, and gave the driver Lily’s address. I also brought Ethan’s luggage with me. On the way, my phone kept dinging. Text messages from Ethan came through. “I got a bit anxious just now and spoke harshly. Emma, I apologize.” “How about this—I’ll return the bracelet tomorrow, but you need to come to the wedding as Lily’s bridesmaid.” “After all, we were about to get married, but suddenly I’m getting a marriage license with Lily. This doesn’t look good for the young lady’s reputation.” “If you come as a bridesmaid tomorrow, everyone will naturally not think Lily destroyed our relationship. If anyone asks about us tomorrow, cover for me… just say… you cheated and fell in love with someone else, that you wanted to break up with me for a long time. Anyway, don’t implicate Lily…” Reading his messages, I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. But as I laughed, tears had already soaked the hem of my coat. The driver saw this and silently handed me a tissue. I thanked him softly, opened the car door, grabbed the suitcase, and rushed upstairs. I pounded on Lily’s door. The door shook with earth-shattering sounds. Hurried footsteps came from inside, and soon the door opened. “Who is it! At this late hour!” Ethan stood there wearing a pink apron, with flour still on his forehead. My eyes instantly reddened. I had loved Ethan for ten years. I’d witnessed his journey from a poor student to a respected professor. The deepest scar in his heart was from when he worked part-time in a restaurant kitchen during college. Rich kids at school, jealous of him, pinned him to the ground and poured leftovers over his head. “A useless cook dares to steal someone else’s woman.” Since then, he hated cooking with a passion. Even when I was engaged to him and brought him home to meet my gravely ill mother, I only asked him to help bring dishes from the kitchen, and he left with a cold face, slamming the door. Leaving my sick mother heartbroken for me, yet even then, I forced a smile to defend him. From then on, I was even more careful to protect him. I, who never knew how to cook, burned my hands countless times learning to cook for him. I never expected that his scar had already been healed by another woman. The moment Ethan saw me, he froze, then instinctively tugged at his apron guiltily. “Emma, why are you here…” Lily appeared behind him, her small face looking at me nervously: “Miss Carter, why are you here?” She stood in front of Ethan with tears in her eyes: “Miss Carter, if you want to vent, just beat me to death. Professor Miller only did this to help me…” Ethan looked at her with heartache, then yelled at me angrily: “Emma, how can you be so heartless? Lily was being forced by her family to marry the thug who assaulted her. I’m just helping her avoid that fate. Can’t you show some understanding?” 3 “No!” My voice trembled with fury: “If she’s pitiful, that’s a problem between her parents and the person who hurt her! She can refuse! She can call the police and have those people arrested! Why should I sacrifice my marriage and happiness!” “Unless…” My voice was already choking: “Actually, she was never assaulted at all! You two were fooling around and…” Before I could finish, my face was struck hard by a slap. Ethan raised his hand, his face full of anger: “I won’t let you talk about her like that! I already said it! Lily and I are in a fake marriage! Why must you think so maliciously of others?” Our argument drew neighbors from upstairs and downstairs to watch. Someone asked Lily and Ethan: “Lily, who is this? What’s her relationship with your husband?” Lily stammered: “She’s his… ex…” Seeing her hurt expression full of implications, the neighbor understood immediately, looking at me with disgust and even pushing me: “They’re about to get married, and you’re still clinging to her husband—that makes you the mistress! You look decent enough, but have some shame!” “Exactly! Take her picture! Post it online!” I laughed bitterly and threw the suitcase at their feet: “Ethan Miller, tell them who the real mistress is!” The suitcase popped open, but Lily screamed and crouched down. Ethan looked at the fingernail-sized red swelling on her leg. His expression changed instantly: “Emma Carter! Are you done yet! I already got a marriage license with Lily! Who are you calling the mistress!” I looked at him in disbelief and smiled bitterly: “Ethan Miller, this is what you call a fake marriage? Getting a marriage license is fake too?” Knowing he’d misspoken, Ethan guiltily changed the subject: “Over a broken bracelet, you came here to hit people!” “Emma Carter, this is the first time I’ve realized how selfish and cold-blooded you are!” My eyes widened as I watched Ethan storm back into the room in rage. He came out with the bracelet I treasured so dearly and smashed it to the ground. “You want your bracelet, don’t you! Take your junk and get out!” “No!” I screamed and lunged forward to catch it, but I was too late. I watched helplessly as the bracelet shattered on the floor. I looked up sharply, glaring at Ethan with hatred. This was the first time he’d seen anything other than love in my eyes. Even in his anger, there was a moment of panic. But the next second, Lily cried out: “Professor Miller, my leg hurts so much. Could it be fractured?” Ethan immediately snapped back, picked her up, and rushed downstairs past me. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll take you to the hospital.” He left so forcefully and hastily that he knocked me aside as I crouched on the ground. I tumbled down the steep stairs and crashed heavily onto the floor. Amid everyone’s screams and my weak cries, Ethan left without looking back. Before my eyes closed, all I saw was Lily leaning on Ethan’s shoulder, giving me a triumphant smile. In that moment, the sound of my heart breaking was as clear as shattering jade. … Once, Ethan used to protect me the way he now protected Lily. When I was being followed and harassed by those rich kids, terrified, he rushed out to stand in front of me, boldly telling them to get lost. He grabbed my wrist and broke through their encirclement. 4 Later, I learned he was targeted and made things difficult by those spoiled brats because of this. I found him with red eyes to apologize. He just smiled and patted my head, saying: “It’s okay. I just can’t stand to see you cry.” The man who once panicked just seeing my red eyes could now ignore my pain for another girl’s tears. When did Lily start coming between us? Perhaps it was from the day she became Ethan’s graduate student. When he talked about this girl, he said she reminded him of his younger self. But his eyes were full of affection. Or perhaps it was when she called Ethan in tears, saying male students at school were blocking her way to confess their feelings. Ethan, usually calm and rational, actually got into a fight with the male student like a hothead. When I went to bail him out, looking at his swollen lip, I felt bitterness for the first time. He explained to me: “Emma, when I heard about her situation, I thought of how you were bullied before, and I lost my head…” But… When I was in such a predicament before, he only led me away… … When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. The doctor told me worriedly that fortunately I was brought in time. I’d hit the back of my head, causing cerebral hemorrhaging. I’d almost not woken up. I thanked him softly, got my wounds treated, and left the hospital. As soon as I reached the entrance to my building, several sleazy men followed me. “You’re that bitch from online, right?” “You look decent, but you’re so vicious inside. You even hired thugs to bully a female student. Since you like finding men so much, today we brothers will let you experience it too!” They laughed menacingly and rushed at me, tearing at my clothes. I screamed desperately, kept backing away, but they still tore my clothes and pinched bruises all over my body. It wasn’t until the building’s security guard arrived and called the police that they scattered. I knelt on the ground, trembling uncontrollably. The security guard looked down at me with contempt in his eyes: “You deserved it. Who told you to be so malicious and bully an innocent young lady?” I looked up sharply, my voice trembling. “What did you say?” The security guard sneered and left. My head buzzed and exploded. I quickly pulled out my phone to check. Sure enough, I saw a clarification post from Ethan. “Sorry for wasting public resources. Regarding my assault on a female student, it was a misunderstanding. My ex, Emma Carter, hired thugs to assault my student out of jealousy, causing her to be forced to marry that beast!” “I felt sorry for her and came forward to take responsibility to protect her. But I didn’t expect her to have such a bad attitude. Not only did she not repent, but she got worse, so I decided to expose everything.” “I will also take responsibility and marry my student, taking care of her for life!” Lily commented below: “With you here, I’m not afraid of anything.” Blood rushed to my brain. I felt like I’d been struck hard. Below this post were all blessings and horrifying curses. My photos were photoshopped into various obscene images, and some said they’d dox my address to teach me a lesson. My phone was filled with vile, abusive messages.

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When he promised me a bright future, his eyes held only me. Back then we had nothing, cramming ourselves into a rented room to eat stale bread. He held me and said, “When the company goes public, I’ll marry you.” I stayed with him through the hardest days, from a basement startup to a ten-billion-dollar fortune. I naively waited for that day. But when the company finally went public, he held the hand of a woman in white and said to me, “Sophia, you need to be understanding.” The day news of his marriage to Charlotte spread, I was doing my makeup. Aaron carefully carried in documents, not daring to lift his head even once. He’d been by Ethan’s side for a long time, witnessing all our vows of eternal love. Even he knew to feel guilty. What about you, Ethan? I laughed self-mockingly and casually took the documents without signing. “Where is he?” Aaron lowered his head even further. “Mr. Sterling is in a meeting and can’t get away, but he’s been thinking of you constantly.” My smile didn’t reach my eyes. “He’s with Charlotte, isn’t he?” Aaron fell silent. So I’d guessed right. Whatever. I watched Aaron leave. Outside, unseasonable snow began to fall, landing lightly on my heart. My first meeting with Ethan was in weather just like this. My father returned from a business trip with a young man at his side. He wore a black coat. Though young, his sharp eyes radiated calm authority. I stood behind the corridor. My father spotted me and beckoned me over. “This is my daughter Sophia. She’s my only child. I’ve spoiled her terribly. If she offends you, I’ll discipline her myself.” I stood frozen, thinking only that this young man was impossibly handsome, forgetting to respond. He smiled, his eyes showing a trace of gentleness that made my vision blur. I didn’t know then that he would become a business titan worth billions. I called him Ethan and pestered him to teach me about business. He showed no impatience. Through blazing summers and bitter winters, he accompanied me running deals on the front lines. My mother teased me. “Your father used to make you wake early to review reports, and you’d cry like a monkey. Now look at you, running to the office every day. You’ve gotten taller and darker. You don’t look like a girl at all. I wonder how you’ll ever get married.” I said it didn’t matter, but my hands kept applying skincare products. A young girl’s feelings are always transparent. I loved his composure, his occasional melancholy, his every word and action, his every gesture. Ethan treated me well too. In his spare time he’d take me to drink wine. Each time he returned from business trips, he brought me novel gifts. I was spirited and impulsive, yet this decisive man used nothing but gentle words with me. Besides my father and my brother Jason, he was the best man to me. The world was in chaos then, the internet wave sweeping in, countless startups rising and falling. My family had been in business for generations. My father wasn’t rigid like ordinary men – from childhood he taught me finance, strategy, management, and business logic. As a child I hated these lessons, always envying the neighbor girl who could act spoiled and throw tantrums, while I got scolded by my father if my PowerPoints weren’t good enough. Fortunately, Ethan was a good teacher. He never spoke harshly to me. Even when extremely frustrated, he’d just take a deep breath and smile with resignation. “Sophia, the cherries in the suburbs are ripe. Let me take you to pick some.” I tossed aside my laptop and followed him. He drove me to an orchard, nimbly climbed a tree, and picked a bag of cherries. I munched happily on the cherries. A breeze blew gently. He sat on the hillside in his black clothes, staring intently at the cherries in his hand. Ethan’s mother had loved cherries most. Back then I was carefree and didn’t recognize the emotion he was emanating – called sorrow. That autumn night, I watched fireworks with him but encountered an attack by business rivals. We fled together, scrambling into an abandoned factory. He had multiple knife wounds and soon developed a high fever. He became delirious with fever, mumbling half-conscious, “Mom, I picked cherries for you. Please try them.” Only then did I learn his family had suffered a major tragedy. That tragedy was extremely brutal. I couldn’t imagine how an eight-year-old Ethan survived that disaster. Touching his burning body, my heart ached terribly. I soaked my clothes in cold water, moved swiftly through the night, removed his shirt and held his solid chest, trying to cool him down. After several trips, he finally wasn’t burning anymore. At dawn the next day, the morning chill made me sneeze. Ethan, nestled in my arms, suddenly woke. Our eyes met. Ethan, who’d faced a dozen thugs the night before without changing expression, now touched his bare upper body and for the first time blushed. Shortly after returning, I fell ill. I lay in bed like a dead fish, my throat burning. Ethan was devastated, sitting by the bed feeding me almond milk, staying awake for four whole days. Finally my mother couldn’t stand it and persuaded him to change clothes and sleep. Before turning twenty, Ethan could already lead a team to secure agency rights for the entire East Coast region. My father praised him endlessly whenever he mentioned him. He said Ethan was accomplished beyond his years, with immeasurable prospects, and wanted to betroth me to him. My mother said Ethan was no ordinary man and worried. My father laughed heartily, saying his daughter naturally deserved the best man in the world. I eavesdropped outside the door. Truth was, since that night in the factory, I’d already considered myself Ethan’s. But if you’d lived to see this day, you’d surely regret that decision.

I was with Ethan for seven years. When he turned thirty, when his company went public and he was worth billions, the person he chose to marry wasn’t me. He held Charlotte’s hand. They chatted pleasantly. The woman wore a white dress, gentle and lovely, delicate as a flower. Of course. A man like Ethan should naturally like someone like Charlotte. Charlotte was his biggest investor’s daughter. Now he needed capital to consolidate his empire. A marriage alliance was the best choice. I should have known. I stumbled back to the apartment in a daze, but in my mind was the night we got our marriage certificate at nineteen. He held me and said, “Sophia, I, Ethan Sterling, will never let you down in this lifetime.” The night I discovered him with Charlotte, I said I wanted to leave. For the first time in his life he lost his temper with me, his suppressed anger barely contained. “Sophia, you need to be understanding.” But I’m your wife! I couldn’t suppress the sourness in my eyes, stubbornly refusing to look at him. We remained at an impasse for a while. Finally he softened his voice, trying to reason with me. “She and I are just business partners. I only love you. After all these years, don’t you know that?” I said nothing. He continued. “I’ll make you company vice president with the same stake as me. You won’t have to bow to anyone.” I looked deeply at his features. They were no different from before, yet I couldn’t find a trace of familiarity. Was he still my Ethan? “Can I make one request?” He breathed a sigh of relief, thinking I’d compromised, and quickly asked what I wanted. “Let Jason go.” He froze, instinctively saying, “No.” I laughed coldly and pointed to the door, telling him to leave. “I’ll agree to anything you ask, except this. Sophia, don’t make this difficult for me.” Making it difficult – as if I were being unreasonable. When Ethan conquered half his business empire, my father died in that merger war. I held his cold body, crying until no more tears came. He, usually calm and composed, also reddened his eyes. I said I no longer had a father. He pulled me into his arms, lips trembling, saying “don’t be afraid” over and over. My family poured out all our wealth and exhausted all our connections for Ethan. Jason was sent to prison by him on charges of “corporate espionage,” while I was placated with a vice president position. Jason fought alongside him in the business world, but in the end, Ethan couldn’t tolerate him. Since my father’s death, they’d gradually developed conflicts and began competing openly and covertly. Ethan worried Jason’s prestige would exceed his own. The first thing he did after going public was fabricate evidence and send him to prison with a heavy sentence. I didn’t blame him. But he shouldn’t have used such charges to tarnish Jason’s name. I looked at him pleadingly, crushing my former pride. What did it matter – spending a lifetime at the company, competing with many women for one man’s favor, becoming what I once despised most? Compared to Jason’s life, what did it matter? I traded my compliance for his promise – to let Jason serve his sentence under house arrest, leave the business world, and never step foot in this circle again. Seeing me like this for the first time, he contemplated for a long while before finally saying softly, “Alright.” After many days, a weight finally lifted from my heart. I sincerely thanked him. As long as someone’s alive, there’s still hope.

Before the wedding, I didn’t see Ethan once. I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing at the city skyline. How absurd – just a year ago today, I was chasing Ethan across the desert in an SUV. Now I’d become a resentful woman confined to her chambers. The hotel was holding a ceremony. Even from miles away, the exuberant cheers reached my ears. My assistant Peach came out, saying my health was poor and I couldn’t stand the cold wind. I should go back inside. I found it somewhat amusing. Once upon a time I could work three days and nights straight, praised as an iron lady with heroic grace. Now people said my health was poor. Thinking carefully, I hadn’t slept well in a very long time. I asked Peach to bring me sedatives. After taking them I prepared for sleep. Ethan came home half-drunk, stumbling into my apartment. He kissed my lips as he used to, removed my clothes, and bent his head to work. I suddenly spoke. “Is this how you treat Charlotte too?” He froze abruptly and climbed off me. “Why bring her up?” I smiled and dressed. “Now she’s the legitimate Mrs. Sterling.” I still remembered when he’d first achieved success, someone sent him a female celebrity. I made a scene at the company, humiliating the partner who sent her. Ethan just looked at me with indulgence and laughed, dismissed the person, and bought me a limited-edition sports car to appease me. Back then, I wouldn’t allow anyone to take any of Ethan’s love. “When we’re together, let’s not mention others, okay?” He patiently coaxed me, wanting me to act spoiled with him like before. I smiled bitterly. “That I’m still willing to stay here is already my biggest concession. From now on, don’t come to my place.” He sat up abruptly, gripping my face in the dim light, forcing me to look at him. “Sophia, what do you mean?” I looked directly at him. “I made myself very clear. Don’t you understand?” Anger flashed in his eyes, like a venomous wolf. My shoulder had an old injury – from when I’d blocked a knife for him. It ached unbearably on rainy days. But now he paid no heed to my injury, gripping my shoulder with brutal force. I curled up in pain. He ignored it, still ramming recklessly. “Sophia! No one can defy me!” That night was exceptionally long. Afterward, he tossed me aside like a rag. “Think it over. I’m leaving.” The lights went out. Tears slid down my face, burying themselves in my hair. I suddenly felt panicked. If my father and mother had spirits in heaven, what would they think seeing me like this? Ethan, you promised my father. You can’t treat me this way.

The night before Jason left, I visited him at the detention center. After this parting, I didn’t know when my brother and I would meet again. Seeing the wounds on Jason’s hands, my nose stung. “I’m useless. I couldn’t protect you.” He shook his head. “What kind of man needs his sister’s protection? How embarrassing would that be?” He was silent for a long time, then suddenly spoke. “My father and I failed to judge character and let a wolf into our home. How could I blame you? From now on you’ll be alone. It’ll be hard on you.” I wiped away tears. “Live well after you get out. Don’t harbor any rash thoughts. Ethan now isn’t the same as he was.” No one could oppose him anymore. He looked at me with a smile, his messy hair unable to hide his handsomeness. “Sophia’s all grown up.” Jason left. He was restricted from leaving the country, his phone’s location tracked 24/7. He had to report to local authorities regularly and couldn’t even find decent work. My once-proud brother now struggled just to survive. I begged Ethan to help smooth things over. He agreed verbally but then arranged for Jason to go to the most remote small city, euphemistically calling it “lying low.” Ethan restricted my freedom. I couldn’t see Jason off. I gazed into the distance, silently repeating: it’s good he’s gone, it’s good he’s gone. Far from this place of conflict, to find his own vast sky. I hoped Jason’s remaining years would go more smoothly than mine. … After Ethan went public, only Charlotte and I were women in the company. I was sewing a small bag when the secretary announced Charlotte’s arrival. He’d specifically permitted me not to bow to anyone, so to this day I hadn’t met her alone. She still wore a white dress, looking pure and flawless, beautiful beyond mortal women. “I’ve been wanting to visit you, but I’ve been busy accompanying Ethan lately and couldn’t get away. I’ve only come to see you today. Please don’t blame me.” She sat down casually with a sweet smile, giving no grounds for criticism. I studied my embroidery pattern carefully. “Charlotte, you’re too kind. I can’t accept being called that. I should be the one visiting you.” She propped her chin up. “You’ve fought alongside Ethan for years. That he lets you bow to no one – what respect that shows. Unlike me, I spent my days in my chamber before. Ethan felt sorry for me and didn’t want me to live a life on the knife’s edge with him…” I paused. The needle pricked my finger. I heard the turbulent voice within my heart, though my face remained calm. “When did you two meet?” Charlotte smiled shyly, the picture of feminine charm. “Ethan and I? Three years ago, I suppose. My father greatly admired him. He promised to marry me, so my father invested to help him go public…” Three years ago, three years ago… So early… Back then we were still the couple everyone in the company envied. I looked at the pouch in my hands. I used to dislike this detailed work, but Ethan’s clothes inevitably came undone, so I learned to clumsily use a sewing needle to mend them. Ethan wore pajamas, propping his head up under the lamp watching me with a smile. “Viewing a beauty by lamplight truly has special charm.” I blushed and glared at him. “We’re an old married couple and you’re still so improper.” … My vision blurred. My attendant Peach noticed something wrong and quickly came to support me. I waved my hand indicating I was fine. “I’m not feeling well. Please leave. Come another day.” Charlotte pouted, looking bored as she left. I instructed Peach to throw away all the needlework. Peach looked regretful. “But it’s almost finished. Why would you…” I interrupted her. “No reason. I just never want to touch it again.” Something already dirty – why keep it for nostalgia?

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While negotiating with an important client, I had my phone on silent all day. Who knew that when I got back, I’d be stopped by my fiancée Livia’s male secretary, Parker: “You didn’t reply ‘received’ in the work group chat today. That’s a five-thousand-dollar fine!” I assumed he didn’t know about my work schedule and paid him no mind. The next day, Livia actually kicked me out of the company, with Parker fanning the flames on the side. “The company has long had a rule that you must reply to work messages within two minutes. You’re using your high position to break the law yourself—isn’t that setting a bad example?” Livia actually spoke up for him too: “You’re showing contempt for the rules! You’re suspended. You’ll stay suspended until you pay up!” I looked down at the materials I’d worked so hard on for the bidding project and laughed. Then I called my eldest sister, Porter. “I’ve got a fifty-million-dollar winning bid project to give you. Also, I’m accepting that job offer you made before. I’ll start at your company in three days.”

“What’s this? You’ve finally come around? Didn’t you refuse to come back even when I offered you a million-dollar annual salary?” Porter’s tone was full of teasing. Thinking of how Livia had made me leave the company because of Parker, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. “Don’t even mention it. As long as your company doesn’t have rules like ‘get fined if you don’t reply received in the work group within five minutes,’ that’s good enough. I’ll report to your place in three days.” “Then it’s settled. You can’t back out this time!” Not long after I finished talking with Porter, Livia called me. “I left the bidding documents in my car. Come get them for me.” Parker’s deliberately amplified voice came through. “Ms. Livia, these tasks are what I, as an assistant, should do. How can we have Mr. Joseph do them? Mr. Joseph already resents me after being fined today. Let me go instead…” That stern female voice didn’t even think twice before comforting him. “It’s so hot out, and you have a weak constitution—you’re not suited for running back and forth. Besides, he showed contempt for company rules. You were just doing your duty by giving him a friendly reminder.” “Joseph, I’m only giving you ten minutes. If I don’t see those documents, pack up your things and leave the company!” The call was hung up mercilessly. I stood there stunned for a long time, then laughed at myself mockingly. My fiancée had scolded me without question for the sake of another man. She’d even made me take over what should have been someone else’s task because she felt sorry for him. I still went to get the documents—after all, I still needed to hand things over for my resignation. Livia took the documents. I was about to bring up resigning when, without even looking at me, she handed the documents directly to Parker. “I’m announcing something now. Because Joseph showed contempt for company rules, I’ve decided to demote him.” “From now on, Parker will take over Joseph’s position. Joseph will be demoted to assistant to support his work.” Parker looked at her with flattered surprise. “I… Ms. Livia, you’re so good to me!” “It’s just a bit hard on Joseph. But you’ve been Vice President for several years now and had enough leisure time. You should work as an assistant for a while to get some proper training.” Listening to Livia heap praise on him, my heart felt as if it were being strangled by a pair of hands—for a moment, the pain left me unable to breathe. Everyone at the company knew I was Livia’s fiancé, but under her management, I’d never received any special treatment because of that relationship. On the contrary, she was even stricter with me than with ordinary employees. I started from the bottom, drank until I ended up in the hospital, secured countless projects—all just to make it to Vice President. She always said, “I don’t want you to be treated differently because you’re my fiancé. This is how I’m tempering you.” But when it came to Parker, her principles could bend again and again. Parker’s face was full of smugness as he pulled out several reimbursement forms. “Joseph, when you’re in a position, you do the work. So I’ll have to enforce the rules. These are receipts from the hotels you stayed at on previous business trips.” “The company has long said we need to cut costs, yet you still stayed at five-star hotels. You’re just an assistant now—these expenses can’t be reimbursed.” Livia snorted coldly and praised him. “You’ve just taken over and already know how to create profits for the company. My judgment really is excellent.” My fingertips dug deep into my palms as I forced myself to stay calm. “You can give the Vice President position to whoever you want, but I won’t accept this assistant position.” “I came here specifically to resign. And Livia, let’s cancel our engagement.”

[Your onboarding procedures are all set. Just come report for duty the day after tomorrow.] I received Porter’s message while I was packing my luggage, preparing to leave what had once been our wedding home. Livia came back with Parker. Seeing me at home, she frowned. “Why are you here?” My hands paused in their movement. I couldn’t help but reply sarcastically. “You must have forgotten—this is my home too.” She seemed not to have expected this attitude from me, who had always been so compliant. After a moment of surprise, she softened her tone. “Parker’s neighborhood has had security issues lately. He’s now the company’s Vice President with significant authority. As his superior, I should naturally show concern.” “So I’ve decided to let him stay at our place for the time being, until he’s saved enough money to move out.” This was clearly an announcement, not a request for my agreement. Parker stepped forward with fake sincerity. “Joseph, I don’t want to intrude on your and Ms. Livia’s life either, but Ms. Livia was so worried about me being alone that she insisted I stay here.” “She even said that you’re older and more tolerant, so you wouldn’t mind these things.” Over these years, I’d heard countless provocative remarks like this, but this time my heart was already unmoved. I picked up my luggage and said coldly. “Do as you please. I already said the engagement is cancelled. Who you want to bring into this room has nothing to do with me.” Near the entryway, Livia suddenly grabbed my hand, saying with displeasure. “A whole night has passed and you still haven’t calmed down? Yesterday you embarrassed me in front of so many people and I didn’t even make an issue of it. What exactly are you trying to pull?” “Pull?” I laughed mockingly, pressing down all the questions I wanted to ask her and Parker. Looking at this carefully decorated wedding home, I suddenly felt pathetically foolish. In this house, she had once knelt on one knee to propose to me. “Joseph, I promise you—I’ll never let you suffer even a little bit ever again.” In the past, whenever we had even the slightest conflict, she would immediately put down her work to comfort me. But now, knowing full well that I was upset, she dealt with it by giving me the cold shoulder for a night to “calm down on my own.” I shook off her hand and said flatly. “I’m serious about cancelling the engagement. I’ll have you submit my resignation letter for me.” Parker suddenly rushed forward to block me, bowing and apologizing profusely. “Joseph! This is all my fault! I shouldn’t have come here and made you think I was taking your place!” “I’ll resign right now and never appear in front of Ms. Livia again!” With those words, he rushed out the door. Livia clenched her fists tight, pushed me away hard, and roared furiously. “Joseph! Won’t you be happy until you’ve driven Parker to his death?! The whole company has been talking about him because of yesterday’s incident. He only fined you to set an example for everyone else!” “If he doesn’t live and travel with me, he’ll be ostracized by everyone at the company! This is me atoning for your sins! There’s nothing between Parker and me—can you please put away those filthy thoughts of yours!” I crashed into the cabinet by the door, my lumbar vertebrae nearly breaking. And she left with a slam of the door, not even looking back once.

I prepared my onboarding documents to go to Porter Group, but just before leaving, Livia’s secretary called me. “Mr. Joseph, Mr. Parker hasn’t approved your resignation letter. He wants you to come to the company in person. This is also Ms. Livia’s instruction.” Ms. Livia’s instruction—this was clearly forcing me to go back. Without the resignation procedures completed, the bidding project would still be with Livia’s company. That project was something I’d negotiated by humbling myself countless times. Now that it had finally won the bid, I had to take it with me. Parker looked down at me condescendingly and threw the resignation letter on the ground. “Sorry about that, Joseph. You were Vice President for so many years and you still can’t write a proper resignation letter? You didn’t even clearly write out the project handover. I can’t approve this.” Looking at the resignation letter that had been revised dozens of times on the floor, I clenched my fists and laughed mockingly. “Deliberately targeting me? Parker, I just don’t bother competing with you. Otherwise, with your qualifications, how would you even deserve to sit in the Vice President’s seat?” I picked up the letter and looked at him coldly. “Speaking of which, you did remind me. The projects I’ve worked on over the years all involve the company’s lifeblood. It really isn’t your place to approve them.” Parker arrogantly blocked my way and stuffed a lacy lingerie nightgown into my hands. “Oh, you’re going to see Ms. Livia? Perfect. Help me return this nightgown to Ms. Livia. Last night, Ms. Livia saw I was in a bad mood and insisted on wearing this to cheer me up.” “Let me tell you, never mind firing you for not replying to a message. Even if I said you entered the company with your left foot first and that was wrong, Ms. Livia would listen to me and tell you to get lost!” “Oh, I almost forgot—this outfit got dirty last night when we both got a bit excited. Joseph, wash it for me before you return it. You’ve done plenty of laundry and cooking anyway.” Rage surged from my feet to my head. I could no longer hold back and swung my fist at his face. “Parker, you’re actually proud of being a homewrecker?!” The force clearly wasn’t that great, yet he fell to the ground with a thud, covering his face and crying out in admission of fault. “Joseph, I was wrong, but the resignation letter must follow proper procedures! Hitting me won’t help—anyone would have to follow this process!” Following his words came an aggressive sound of the door being kicked open. Livia looked at him on the ground and, without a moment’s thought, raised her hand and slapped my face. “Joseph! You actually dared to hit Parker!” A burning pain spread across my face. Looking at Livia’s bone-chillingly cold eyes, it took me a while to realize what had happened. “Apologize.” She spoke icily, looking at me with eyes like ten-thousand-year-old ice, piercing me until my whole body went cold. “Won’t you even ask what happened?!” My eyes reddened. I felt my head splitting with pain. I could barely stand steady. “You hit Parker and you still think it’s Parker’s fault?! You’re being completely unreasonable now. Get out of my way! I need to take Parker to the hospital!” She pushed me aside impatiently. With my ears ringing and head dizzy, her push actually made me fall to the ground. She paused while holding Parker’s hand, about to come help me up, when Parker suddenly cried out. “Livia, what do I do? My head feels so dizzy. I don’t know if Joseph’s punch just now injured my brain!” Anxiety filled Livia’s eyes. She looked at me, then at Parker, and finally let go of me. Before losing consciousness, what echoed in my mind was still that deafening slap. And that hard-to-believe yet unavoidable truth. The woman who used to make me breakfast every day had actually raised her hand against me for another man’s sake.

When I woke up, I found myself carried to Livia’s office, lying on the cold floor. Parker was lying on the couch while Livia tenderly disinfected the minor scratches on his face. Hearing me regain consciousness, she turned around, her tone unfriendly. “The doctor already came by. Your punch almost gave Parker internal injuries. Parker is kindhearted—he’s waiving the medical fees.” “You should apologize to Parker.” Parker’s eyes were full of smugness. “Joseph, I really can’t speak up for you this time. The whole company knows you hit me. If there’s no response, how can I establish my authority in the future?” “I’m not asking you to do much—just apologize. Tomorrow I’ll post the video of your apology to the employee group chat, and we’ll consider this matter closed.” I struggled to get up and handed the resignation letter to Livia. “You really don’t need to humiliate me like this. I won’t apologize. Sign it.” She glanced disdainfully at the resignation letter and sneered. “Still trying to use this tactic to threaten me? Where could you possibly go after leaving my company? Don’t think I don’t know—you just don’t want to apologize, so you’re using resignation to scare me.” “Joseph, this is your last chance. If I really sign this, you’ll regret it when it’s too late.” “Apologize!” Anger had already colored her face, but my attitude remained firm. My hand holding out the resignation letter hung frozen in midair. She suddenly laughed coldly twice and snatched the resignation letter, signing it. “Fine! Let’s see where you’ll find another place that lets you live such a life of luxury after leaving me!” “Get out!” Under the watchful eyes of everyone at Livia’s company, I packed up my things and left without looking back.

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My girlfriend Lillian’s entire family was taken hostage, and as SWAT team members, we headed out together for the rescue. During the firefight, I took a bullet while covering Lillian. Just as I was relieved that I was wearing a bulletproof vest, I noticed blood seeping through where I’d been shot. Upon inspection, I discovered that the bulletproof vest Lillian had given me was actually just a cotton vest. Faced with my pained and confused gaze, Lillian said coldly, “I swapped your vest and gave it to Carmen. He’s a rookie—his reflexes aren’t as sharp as yours. He needs to wear two vests to be safe.” Clutching my wound, I demanded furiously, “Didn’t you think I could die from getting shot?” Lillian’s face filled with anger after hearing this. “How can you be so inconsiderate of a rookie? It’s just one bulletproof vest, isn’t it?” “Besides, it didn’t even hit anything vital. What are you screaming about?” I knew arguing was pointless. After bandaging my wound, I sent a message to my dad, Chief Johnson, asking for backup: “I’ve been shot and need rescue. Also, this rescue mission needs to be temporarily canceled.”

Soon after, Lillian, as team captain, received orders from the chief to cancel the mission. She grabbed me by the collar, her eyes blazing. “You’re the one who filed that report, aren’t you?” “Don’t you realize my family is in the terrorists’ hands right now? Every second we delay puts them in more danger.” “You actually requested to cancel the mission—are you trying to get them killed?” When she yanked me like that, my freshly bandaged wound tore open again, blood spilling onto the ground. I pressed hard against the wound on my ribs, enduring the pain as I responded, “We were ambushed midway, which proves the enemy was prepared. Going to rescue them now would be walking into a trap.” “And I’ve been shot—is there something wrong with requesting backup?” Before Lillian could respond, Carmen cut in with a sarcastic tone. “Jones, I hate to say it, but you’re part of the SWAT team. You want to retreat over a little flesh wound?” “I’m embarrassed for you!” “Besides, the hostages we’re rescuing are Captain Lillian’s family—your future family too. You think you can just decide not to save them?” “Are you just a coward, or does Lillian not mean enough to you?” With his instigation, the other team members started criticizing me too. “Jones, if your skills aren’t up to par, you need more training. Running away will only make everyone look down on you more!” “We have a tradition of light wounds not leaving the front line. You want backup for a little scrape? The other teams will laugh at us.” The searing pain was unbearable, and my teammates’ mockery pushed me over the edge. I released the pressure on my wound and pointed at the blood gushing from it. “Are you all blind, or have you lost your conscience? You call this a flesh wound?” The other team members fell silent after seeing my injury, except for Carmen, who still wore a mocking, disdainful expression. “Are you proud you got shot? Showing it off like some kind of honor display.” Lillian walked up with a look of contempt. “Why is everyone else fine except you got shot?” “It’s because you slack off during training, so you’re useless in real combat. And you have the nerve to complain?” I wanted to defend myself, but the piercing pain made me not want to say another word. As I continued losing blood, my vision grew increasingly blurry, everything before me swaying. Fortunately, I had sent out that distress signal in time, or the consequences would have been unthinkable. Just when I thought Lillian would order a retreat, I heard her command everyone to keep moving forward. “Everyone, move out. While the terrorists aren’t on alert yet, let’s take down their hideout in one strike and rescue the hostages.” I struggled to my feet, gritting through the pain. “You… you want to disobey orders?” The corner of Lillian’s mouth curled as she said coldly: “I’m the field commander for this operation. I have final say!” “I won’t let some coward interfere with the smooth execution of this rescue!” Seeing her crazed state, I knew arguing was pointless and stopped trying. “Lillian, I understand you’re desperate to save them, but I’ve been shot. I can’t keep moving with you all. I can only wait here for rescue.” “No way!” Before Lillian could give orders, Carmen spoke up first. He looked at me sinisterly. “If we leave him here, he’ll definitely tell the chief that Captain Lillian deliberately disobeyed orders.” “To clear herself of that charge, we have to take him with us!” “If he dares talk nonsense, we’ll pin the whole disobeying orders thing on him!”

The other team members, intimidated by Lillian and Carmen’s authority, echoed their agreement. I looked at the ice-cold Lillian and said emotionally, “Lillian, counting today, I’ve saved you four times.” “The first time was four years ago. I dug you out of a pile of corpses and carried you for three days and nights to get out of the desert.” “You were so moved you cried, saying you’d spend your life repaying me, vowing to never betray me.” “I know I don’t matter to you anymore, but I hope you can give me one chance to escape, for the sake of how many times I’ve saved you.” Hearing this, Lillian seemed slightly moved and was about to speak when Carmen interrupted. “Lillian, you can’t be too soft-hearted.” “Leaving him here will ruin everything!” “The rescue operation might get canceled because of one word from him.” At this, Lillian’s brows furrowed as she looked at me coldly. “Don’t try to blackmail me with those things. That’s all in the past.” “For this operation, you’re the only one familiar with the enemy’s terrain. If you don’t go, how can we rescue the hostages?” “That’s right! Jones has to go. Don’t think you can play dead here!” Carmen quickly chimed in. Looking at these two disgusting people, I knew reason wouldn’t work, so I played my last card. “Don’t mess around. Police Chief Johnson is actually my dad. If you treat me like this, he won’t let you get away with it!” “Ha ha ha…” Carmen laughed maniacally. “That’s hilarious! Jones, I never thought you’d be such a coward that you’d claim random people as your father just to save your life.” The others mocked me too. “How could Chief Johnson have a son with a completely different surname?” Lillian even slapped me hard across the face. “Jones, I’m ashamed to have a boyfriend like you!” “If you spout one more word of nonsense, I’ll blow your head off!” With that, she actually pressed her gun to my forehead. I knew they were determined to take me along, so I stopped explaining but made one request. “I’ll go with you, but you have to make Carmen return that bulletproof vest to me.” “I’m injured and can’t move easily…” “Shut up!” Before I could finish, Lillian cut me off sharply. “You’re injured, so naturally you have no combat capability. Why waste a bulletproof vest?” “I’ll say it one more time—Carmen is participating in combat for the first time and has no experience. He must have two bulletproof vests to be safe!” Watching Lillian speak these biased words with such righteousness, I couldn’t help feeling heartbroken. I never imagined that my girlfriend, who once had eyes only for me, would disregard my life and death for another man. Ever since Carmen joined the team, she’d been acting possessed, her eyes constantly following him. Before, I thought she just enjoyed looking at handsome guys, just eye candy, nothing more. After all, we’d survived life and death together many times—she couldn’t possibly betray our years of feelings. Now it seemed I was terrifyingly stupid. Seeing I still wasn’t moving, Lillian clicked a round into the chamber with a loud snap and pressed it against my forehead. “Don’t think I won’t shoot. Get up now. Move!”

Left with no choice, I clutched my wound and struggled to my feet. “I’ll help you, Jones.” Carmen walked over with a fawning expression. Before I could refuse, he viciously struck my wound with his gun butt, making tears stream down my face from the pain. I endured the pain and shoved Carmen away hard. “Get lost!” Carmen let out an exaggerated cry and fell dramatically to the ground. Without a word, Lillian came forward and shoved me hard. “What are you doing? Carmen was trying to help you, and you push him?” Carmen took the opportunity to add fuel to the fire. “I wore Jones’s bulletproof vest, so it’s normal he’s angry. I don’t mind taking some abuse if it helps Jones calm down and properly lead us to rescue the hostages.” Hearing this, Lillian’s eyes blazed with fury. She came forward and slapped me twice across the face. “Don’t think you can bully him just because Carmen is kind-hearted. I won’t allow it!” “If you dare hurt him, I’ll make you pay back double!” She used all her strength with those slaps, making my ears ring and my face burn, but my heart hurt even more. I had no energy to explain, nor did I want to. “I can walk myself. I don’t need his help.” “You don’t need my help—you just want to take the chance to run away.” Carmen looked at me maliciously, speaking in a sarcastic tone. Lillian glanced at me with disgust. “Jones, you keep causing trouble. If you delay my rescue, I definitely won’t let you off!” Then she turned to Carmen. “Watch him. If he makes any suspicious moves, execute him on the spot.” “Anyway, we’re in a combat zone right now. Any accident can be explained away.” I knew she said this deliberately for me to hear, and I knew she was capable of it. These team members were all trained by her. Even if she really did something terrible to me, they would definitely take her side. A wise man doesn’t fight when the odds are against him. I just hoped the rescue team would arrive soon. After Carmen helped me up, he dragged me forward at a run, completely ignoring that my wound was bleeding more and more. After a violent sprint, my breathing became increasingly difficult, my vision darkening, as if my heart would stop beating at any second. Just then, several dark figures flashed through the alley ahead. Lillian called out in a low voice, “Take cover. Suspicious persons ahead.” Before Lillian finished speaking, Carmen shoved me forward hard, throwing me right into the intersection of two alleys. At the same time, the clicking sound of a machine gun being loaded came from not far down the alley. I knew if I hesitated another second, I’d be turned into swiss cheese. I used what little strength I had left and threw myself toward the wall corner. Unexpectedly, when I crashed into it, the wall collapsed with a crash. As the wall fell, gunfire erupted by my ears. Fortunately I dodged quickly, or I’d be dead. Taking advantage of their engagement, I crawled over the collapsed wall and hid in a small dark room. I used my locator to send another distress signal, hoping the rescue team could find me soon. The gunfire outside rang out for a while before stopping quickly. Looked like they’d encountered a small force that retreated after exchanging fire. Hiding in the little dark room, I didn’t dare breathe heavily. My enemies weren’t just the terrorists, but also those teammates who wanted me dead. I stared at that door missing a corner, both hoping the people coming to save me would push through soon, and fearing that whoever came through would be there to harm me. Just as I was torn with anxiety, the door creaked open.

A tall, thin figure pushed through the door with a sinister smile. When I fully made out his features, my heart sank. Damn, it was that bastard Carmen. I tried to curl myself into as small a ball as possible, praying in my heart he wouldn’t see me. “Stop hiding, Jones. I can see you.” I looked up to find the bastard was already right in front of me. I forced out what breath I had. “What are you here for?” Carmen smiled darkly. “To rescue you, of course, my good teammate.” “Get away from me. I’d thank God if you just didn’t harm me.” “Don’t be so proud. I found a bottle of iodine to disinfect your wound.” With that, he reached out to tear off my bandage. I tried desperately to push him away, but having lost too much blood, my hands were powerless and couldn’t stop him at all. After he ripped off the gauze, he actually stuck his finger directly into my wound and tore it viciously, ripping my wound into a gaping hole as blood gushed out. “Ahhh…” The piercing pain made me scream involuntarily, and then I kicked Carmen flying, sending him crashing into the wall. That kick used all my remaining strength. Carmen wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, brushed the dust off his backside, and smiled coldly. “I just performed a little surgery on you. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine soon.” “I have no grudge against you. Why do you have to harm me…” “No grudge? You…” Just then, Lillian burst through the door with others. Seeing people arrive, Carmen immediately fell backward, clutching his chest and wailing. “Jones, I was just trying to bandage your wound. Why did you kick me?” Hearing that I’d kicked Carmen, Lillian immediately rushed over to kick me, but Carmen grabbed her. He probably feared Lillian would see my torn-open wound. “Forget it, Lillian. I can’t blame Jones for being angry at me. If I hadn’t worn his bulletproof vest, he wouldn’t have been injured. It’s normal for him to hate me.” “Carmen, you’re just too kind. But you have to choose who deserves kindness. Someone like Jones—no matter how well you treat him, he won’t appreciate it.” “Today I’m definitely going to teach this ungrateful bastard a lesson for you!” With that, she shook off Carmen and charged at me furiously. Just as she lifted her foot to kick me, her expression suddenly changed and she froze completely. “You… how are you hurt this badly? You only got shot in the ribs—how are your intestines hanging out?” I used my last bit of strength to point at Carmen. “He… it was him…” “He means I was the one who bandaged him.” Before I could finish, Carmen interrupted me. Carmen looked utterly righteous. “When I found Jones, he was already like this. He probably caught his wound on something while escaping and tore it open.” At this point, he looked around slowly and said, “Looking at it now, Jones’s injury is beyond saving. It’s time we made a decision.” Lillian asked worriedly, “You mean…” “Exactly. He’s in this condition now—we definitely can’t take him with us. If he falls into the terrorists’ hands, he’ll inevitably reveal our whereabouts.” “Better we end his suffering now. It’ll let him go peacefully and prevent the risk of our location being exposed.” Carmen spoke with such righteousness, as if he was doing this entirely for my benefit. Hearing they wanted to make a move on me, everyone looked hesitant. Seeing their hesitation, Carmen continued, “If you’re not afraid of Jones leaking information and getting everyone killed here, just pretend I didn’t say anything.” Hearing this, Lillian finally took a stance. “Let’s do as Carmen says. This way we’re helping Jones reduce his suffering.” Hearing the captain had spoken, the others could only agree. Carmen had someone bring over a basin of water and took out some paper towels. “We each take a paper towel, soak it in water, then press it over his face. In just a few minutes, he’ll stop breathing.” “This way we all have a part in it, so no one will dare report us.” Hearing this, everyone lowered their guard and started soaking paper to cover my nose and mouth. After several sheets were placed over my face, my breathing became increasingly difficult. Just as I thought I was about to die, suddenly a team burst through the door, the leader shouting sternly, “Stop!” Everyone froze when they saw who had arrived.

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