Category: English

My husband resented our arranged marriage. For three years, he’d never even seen me. Then, he was drugged, and his secretary asked me to help him out. After it was done. He didn’t recognize me and offered me half a million dollars as compensation. My eyes lit up. I felt like I’d found the secret to getting rich. I put all my effort into seducing him. Until he finally decided to keep me as his trophy girlfriend. He said: “Never fall in love with me. It’s impossible for me to love you, much less marry you.” Then, he pressed down on my hand as I reached for his bathrobe. “Hold on, I need to get a divorce first.” The next second, his call rang on my cell phone. 1 Due to a small life-saving favor, my father arranged for me to marry Elias Blackwood, a man of immense wealth. Little did I know, Elias utterly disdained both my father and me. Though he paid my father a hundred million dollars as a dowry, he stipulated that the marriage would be dissolved after three years. And on the day we registered our marriage, he only sent his secretary, Mr. Jones, with the documents. After that, Elias worked abroad. I always thought our marriage would be nothing more than a formality. But just two months before the divorce, Mr. Jones called me to meet Elias at a hotel. I assumed it was important business. Upon entering the hotel room, Elias burst out of the bathroom, his breathing ragged, his voice strained and furious. “I didn’t order a… companion!” “Get out of here in five seconds!” I froze on the spot. First, because of what he said. Second, because of how he looked. His handsome face was flushed, his eyes glistening, the narrow corners red as if painted with rouge. He was drenched, his white shirt clinging tightly to his skin, revealing a faint outline of his muscular abs. He looked like a dangerously alluring male siren. With my extensive experience watching dramas, I realized he had been drugged. I stepped forward and asked, “Can you… handle it?” “If not, I can take you to the hospital.” “Don’t do anything reckless.” Elias looked like he was in extreme agony, his breathing growing heavier with each gasp. I thought about calling Mr. Jones. But he suddenly changed his mind, pushing me against the wall, gripping my neck, and lowering his head to kiss me forcefully. My eyes widened instantly. I hit his scorching body with my hands. “Calm down, calm down! Don’t do this!” He caught my hands, his voice hoarse. “Help me. Whatever compensation you want afterward, I’ll give it to you.” With that, a torrential kiss descended, forceful and possessive… 2 I woke up the next day, and Elias wasn’t in bed. My entire body felt like it had been run over by a truck, aching so much I couldn’t straighten my back. As I got dressed and walked out, I saw him. He was wearing a white bathrobe, sitting on the living room sofa, his posture languid and sated. Our eyes met. Shameful images from last night flashed through my mind. My face instantly heated up, even the back of my neck felt scorching. Just as I was about to say something to break the awkward silence, Elias spoke first, his face emotionless. “I didn’t know it was your first time. You can ask for more compensation.” I was stunned. Compensation for sleeping with my own husband? Thinking about saving money to buy a house, I held up five fingers, silently indicating fifty thousand. A flicker of disdain crossed Elias’s eyes. He handed me his phone. “Enter your card number yourself.” As I typed, I cursed him in my head: Always trying to act generous with money, but when it comes to actually giving it, he looks at me like I’m trash. Later, as he was filling in the name, he asked, “What’s your name?” I froze again. “You don’t know me?” Elias countered, “Should I know you?” I was speechless. On reflection, he hadn’t seen me in nearly three years of marriage. I struggled to suppress a laugh. “Jade Parker. Just Jade Parker.” “Here’s five hundred thousand. Make sure you keep this quiet.” “Huh?” “Is there a problem?” I hadn’t expected him not to recognize me even after I said my name. And I certainly hadn’t expected to get five hundred thousand for sleeping with him! Staring at the deposit notification on my phone, I thought, If I could sleep with him a few more times, wouldn’t I strike it rich? My mind raced, and I smiled faintly. “No problem.” “But if you ever find yourself in this situation again, you can always call me.” Elias’s face instantly darkened. He called Mr. Jones in and instructed him, “Take her to a pharmacy. Watch her swallow the morning-after pill.” Then he warned me, “Don’t ever appear before me again.” Mr. Jones’s eyes widened like saucers. He hesitated, saying, “Boss, you…” Fearing Mr. Jones would reveal my identity and disrupt my plan to get rich, I immediately cut him off. I grabbed his arm and pulled him out. “Don’t say anything. Just take me to buy the medicine.” 3 Outside the hotel, Mr. Jones asked, “Did you and the boss have a fight?” Once I confirmed no one was around, I lowered my voice. “He didn’t recognize me. He thought I was a call girl.” Mr. Jones looked surprised, then quickly understood and tried to comfort me. I smiled indifferently. “Just promise to keep it a secret for me. If he ever needs ‘special services’ again, you can keep calling me.” Mr. Jones looked mortified. “The boss is usually cold and aloof, he never messes around with women. This time, he was drugged at a party. If I hadn’t taken the liberty of contacting you, he would have endured it alone.” I was surprised. Elias’s antics with me didn’t seem like the actions of an abstinent man. But hearing that he generally kept to himself made me feel strangely pleased. “And he’ll eventually find out who you are. Isn’t it bad to keep this from him?” “Bad? This is great! It’s his fault for not recognizing me.” Then I said pitifully, “I was raised in the countryside, unloved by my father, ignored by my mother.” “I thought marriage would end my tragic fate, but your boss hasn’t given me a single penny. I’m worse off with him than without him.” “Just pity me, let me make some money off him. When the marriage contract is dissolved in two months, I’ll be gone, no strings attached.” Perhaps moved by my tragic story, Mr. Jones sighed. “Alright, but if the boss finds out the truth, you have to keep my name out of it.” I patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I won’t get you into trouble. Now, let’s go buy the pills.” “Are you really going to take them?” “Of course. I don’t even like him, and we’re getting divorced soon. It would be a huge hassle if I got pregnant.” 4 From then on, I longed for Elias to be drugged again. After a week with no results, I even suggested that Mr. Jones drug him. Mr. Jones refused, saying the person who drugged Elias last time had their tendons severed. So, I changed my approach. I got Elias’s preferences, schedule, and other details from him. I was determined to seduce Elias into keeping me as his trophy girlfriend. As luck would have it. The day I went to the bar to “accidentally” run into Elias. I saw him fighting with several men. Bystanders said a beautiful woman had taken a fancy to him, and after he rejected her, she got angry and hired people to teach him a lesson. I guess I’m just too kind. When one of the men pulled out a knife and ambushed him from behind, I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around him. “Watch out!” Elias was unharmed. But I was stabbed in my left arm. Elias turned, looking at me in surprise. When he saw my arm bleeding, a flame ignited in his eyes. He cursed, “You’re asking for it,” and kicked the knife-wielding man away. At that moment, security guards restrained the other troublemakers. The manager also rushed over, bowing and scraping to Elias, apologizing profusely. Elias didn’t even glance at him, quickly picking me up and carrying me to his car. After getting stitches at the hospital. He looked at me, his voice serious. “Why were you there?” Huh? Was he suspecting I was following him? “I was just out having fun.” “Why did you shield me?” My mind raced, and I decided to make the most of the situation, my voice shy and demure. “Once a couple, always a kindness. I couldn’t bear to see you get hurt.” A vein pulsed in Elias’s forehead. “It was a transaction. There’s no such thing as a couple’s kindness.” “But you were my first man. It’s hard for me to forget you, you know.” Elias’s ears turned slightly red, his voice a little unnatural. “I’ll transfer five hundred thousand for your injury. From now on, when we meet, pretend not to know me, and don’t interfere in my business.” “Oh, okay…” As if. After he finished the transfer and put away his phone, I suddenly felt my arm injury was well worth it, and a smile involuntarily curved my lips. Elias’s gaze sharpened. “What are you smiling at?” “Oh? Just thinking you’re handsome and generous, a really, really good person.” “Can I add you on social media?” “Why?” “I got hurt for you, didn’t I? When I’m better, I’ll let you know, so you can rest easy.” In reality, I wanted to showcase my positive and vibrant life, to make my presence known to him. Elias scoffed, his sharp gaze seemingly seeing through my little scheme. “Don’t harbor any fantasies about me. I have no interest in you.” “Oh.” If he didn’t want to add me, fine. I had Mr. Jones as my informant anyway. I got up and started to leave. Elias extended his long arm, holding his phone out to me. “What?” “Didn’t you want to add me? Take it and do it yourself.” It was… quite unexpected. I took his phone and added my burner account. I felt like I was one step closer to striking it rich. 5 I had intended to recover from my injury before approaching Elias again. But three days later, my father asked me to deliver a business proposal to Elias for his review. He even offered me fifty thousand dollars as a reward for running the errand. For the sake of the money, I went. That evening, after arriving at the restaurant where Elias was conducting business. I had Mr. Jones deliver the proposal to Elias. While waiting for Mr. Jones to reply, I sat on a flowerbed downstairs, chewing the gum my father had given me. My father placed great importance on this meeting between Elias and me. He had not only hired someone to style me but had even gone as far as to arrange for my oral care. After about ten minutes, I started to feel increasingly warm and uncomfortable. I called Mr. Jones, wanting to ask if he was done. As soon as the call connected, I heard Elias scoff. “Someone like Mr. Smith, who would sell his own daughter for profit, isn’t fit to partner with Blackwood Industries.” “From now on, if he or his daughter try to contact me, don’t let them through. “Lest he think his daughter is some precious treasure to me, to be sold off again and again.” Mr. Jones replied, “Understood,” before asking me, “What’s up?” My throat was dry, my face flushed, my body so hot that my blood felt like it was boiling, as if it would burst through my veins at any moment. A sudden realization hit me: my father wanted me to consummate the marriage with Elias, and the gum he gave me was actually an aphrodisiac. Thinking that Elias and I were married and had already slept together, I asked Mr. Jones to hand the phone to Elias. “I’ve been drugged with something. Can you… help me, like I helped you?”

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After ten years of marriage, my husband entered a “sensitive period for order.” I picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks, and he saw it, rising to get a new pair from the kitchen. His discarded pajamas were off-limits to me; they could only go to a specific dry cleaner. Our bed was divided in half—pillows, blankets, even the direction of my breath couldn’t cross the boundary. Today, he didn’t touch the breakfast I’d prepared again. The toast was golden-brown, the fried egg perfectly runny, just how he liked it, and the milk was warmed to fifty degrees. But he didn’t even glance at it before leaving for work. I noticed he’d forgotten a contract and hurried after him, only to find his new secretary waiting for him in the basement. She brazenly popped a half-eaten bun into his mouth, and he, indulgent, ate it. A sudden realization struck me. Only children aged two or three have a “sensitive period for order.” For adults, this is called physiological aversion. 1 The underground parking garage was quiet. The young woman chattered animatedly, brimming with an enviable vitality. Jim didn’t speak, but he naturally swallowed the half-eaten bun. The atmosphere was impossibly warm. I was very good at disrupting such atmospheres. “You haven’t eaten pastries in a long time.” I was calmer than I expected. Before Jim could formulate a response, the young woman bounced out. She stuck out her tongue, a mischievous, impish look on her face. “It’s all my fault! I bought the wrong buns today, so…” “I wasn’t asking you.” My voice was soft, but it instantly brought tears to the young woman’s eyes. Jim’s smile vanished, and he instinctively stepped in front of her. “Willow, it’s not what you think.” He sighed, reaching out to take my hand. I instinctively recoiled, and he froze, then casually withdrew his hand. “Beth lives nearby, so she just catches a ride with me to the office. You used to live in a rental too, you know how tough the commute can be.” Yes, back then, we only had one beat-up scooter, all year round. In summer, the seat got scorching hot, unbearable at first. In winter, the cold wind was biting, our breath condensing into white mist. Jim’s voice was carried away by the wind: “Willow, I promise I’ll work hard to buy a car so you won’t have to suffer the wind and sun again.” Actually, he was colder standing in front of me than I was. I looked at his reddened ears and gently placed my hand over them. “It’s not hard. As long as I have you, it’s not hard.” Later, he bought a car. But I never rode in it again. 2 A wave of bitterness washed over me. I blinked, trying to mask my momentary lapse. “Don’t be so tense, I just came to drop off a contract.” Seeing the contract in my hand, Jim visibly, though subtly, let out a breath of relief. “Willow, don’t worry. She’s just my secretary.” He solemnly reassured me, his eyes seemingly holding the familiar affection I remembered. But only I knew, it was different now. I dug my nails into my palm, a sarcastic smirk on my lips. “I never knew bosses needed to pick up and drop off their secretaries daily now.” The young woman behind him lowered her head, looking somewhat embarrassed. Seemingly not expecting me to persist, Jim fiddled with his car keys, his tone somewhat annoyed. “Willow, you don’t need to be so harsh on a young woman.” Harsh? It felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over my head. All those words of accusation were now stuck in my throat, swallowed down with the bitterness. “Just kidding.” I forced a lighthearted laugh. “If others don’t find it funny, it’s not a joke. Apologize.” I stared at Jim, stunned. Once upon a time, he would stand before me just like this, refusing to let me suffer even the slightest wrong. I tried to find a shadow of regret on his face. But I found nothing. Jim just gazed steadily at me, his authoritative stance unmistakable. Not wanting the scene to become any more awkward, I finally spoke: “I’m sorry.” Jim seemed satisfied with my understanding and tact, not hesitating to offer me some small recompense. “Good girl. I’ll have dinner with you tonight.” He spoke from a position of superiority, treating dinner at home as a reward for me. In the past, I might have secretly delighted in it. But now, I simply twitched my lips. “As you wish.” Jim didn’t seem to notice my attitude. He checked his watch and turned to leave. The young woman stayed very close to him, practically following in his footsteps. Then, she skillfully got into the passenger seat. I stood rooted to the spot, silently watching their car. The car slowly drove out of the parking garage. The silence was absolute. I touched my face. Turns out, I couldn’t even shed tears anymore. 3 Something had been wrong between Jim and me for a long time. In the beginning, he simply didn’t hold me after intimacy. “I don’t know why, but I just don’t feel the same way with you as I used to.” He frowned, seemingly frustrated himself. I was distraught, only wanting to salvage things, so the next time we were intimate, I proactively wore a provocative outfit. He was surprised, and he was passionate. It felt like we were back to how we used to be. But it didn’t last. The next time I put on the outfit, he said, “Are you that eager? It makes me feel like I’m completing a task.” I didn’t speak, just quietly went to the bathroom and changed. In the mirror, I looked at my body, tears streaming endlessly. From then on, we stopped being intimate. He seemed relieved. I comforted myself, telling myself it was normal. After all, we were an old married couple. But I didn’t expect that was just the beginning. He said we’d been together too long and needed some space. “Willow, I see you as family now.” Jim said he still loved me. I accepted it, and so I quietly accepted all his rules. I couldn’t touch his pajamas, and at night, we could sleep with our backs to each other. But when I used his chopsticks to pick up a dish and he immediately reached for a new pair, I still cried. After we married, I didn’t cry often. The time before last, I cried tears of joy on the day we got our marriage license. That day, Jim had gently kissed away my tears: “Willow, I love everything about you.” Now, he found the chopsticks I had used too dirty. I cried heartbrokenly, and Jim just watched me coldly from the side. It wasn’t until my voice was hoarse that he finally asked, “Cried enough? If you have, go get some sleep.” 4 His composure made me feel like a madwoman. I began searching online for reasons. It wasn’t until I read about the “sensitive period for order” that I felt some relief. It’s normal, I told myself. He just lacked a sense of security and wanted to maintain his own order. I clung to this hope, intending to patiently see him through this period, back to how things used to be. But I had forgotten. The “sensitive period for order” only appears in young children. Jim could eat a bun bitten by someone else; his “order” was directed only at me. Jim loathed me. It was an uncontrollable, physiological aversion. Jim didn’t come home for dinner tonight either. On the dining table, the same sandwich from this morning still sat there. I numbly put it in my mouth. The cold, runny egg was fishy, and the milk had formed a skin. I instinctively retched, rushing to the bathroom, throwing up until I felt dizzy. I don’t know how long it was before I heard a familiar voice from the doorway. “Sorry, Willow, something at work held me up.” Jim was carrying a bag from my favorite pineapple cake shop. Since he’d hurt his stomach drinking and couldn’t eat pastries, I hadn’t had them in a long time either. Seeing my gaze fixed on the bag, Jim managed a faint smile. “I queued for a long time. Eat it while it’s warm.” The familiar scent and packaging brought me back to when we were newly married. Back then, we still lived in a rented room. Next month’s rent was still uncertain, and I was too sick to get out of bed. Jim worked tirelessly, even taking a part-time job delivering food at night. The landlady was kind, often bringing us food and drinks. That night, just after she’d brought a box of pineapple cakes, I received a call from the hospital. Jim had hit an old woman while riding his scooter. I forced myself to gather all our money and went to the hospital. It was only 836 dollars—a drop in the ocean. I looked at the desperate Jim and knelt before the other family. “Whatever our responsibility, we won’t shirk it. We’ll write an IOU and pay it back. Please, don’t hold him accountable.” Seeing our pitiful state, they sighed and waved us off. At the hospital’s back entrance, Jim and I cried in each other’s arms. Penniless, we ate that box of pineapple cakes for three days. Without that faint sweetness, we wouldn’t have recovered so quickly. Thinking of this, a sliver of hope rose in me again. Was Jim apologizing for this morning? Perhaps things weren’t as bad as I thought. I instinctively reached out to take the bag, then my gaze froze. On the takeaway bag was a strand of hair—light brown, medium length, just like the secretary’s. They had eaten dinner together. My hand trembling, I opened the bag. There were only three cakes inside. “Why is one missing?” I tried to sound casual. Jim’s expression became unnatural. “It smelled too good, so I tasted one. Didn’t you also say earlier that you can’t eat things that are too sweet now? I figured it would be a waste if it wasn’t eaten, so…” Seeing Jim making excuses, I suddenly found it incredibly uninteresting. “Then take the rest to her too.” Jim’s brows furrowed tightly, his face filled with irritation. “What’s wrong with you now? She can’t even eat one piece?” He didn’t understand; this was never about one piece of pastry. He had shared our sweetness with someone else. I closed my eyes, finally unable to endure it any longer. “No. I don’t like it anymore.” Jim gazed steadily at me. “I’ll ask you one last time. Are you going to eat it?” “No.” Before I finished speaking, Jim directly threw the entire box of pineapple cakes into the trash can. “Fine, if you won’t eat it, then it’s gone.” The scent of pineapple cakes still lingered in the air. But now, as our eyes met, only exhaustion remained. “I’ve been working all day; I’m really tired.” Jim ran a hand through his hair and kicked the trash can. “If you want to have a good life, can you please stop causing trouble?” I looked into his eyes, and the aversion he felt for me was so obvious. “Am I the one causing trouble?” I spoke, only to find my voice hoarse. “You’ve been off for a long time.” “What’s wrong with me?” Jim scoffed. “I told you I love you. I would never cheat. Can you not be so suspicious all the time?” I looked at Jim, finding his face genuinely open and honest. I suddenly felt utterly drained, physically and mentally. “It’s not only sleeping together that counts as cheating.” Jim sneered. “Ultimately, you just think I haven’t touched you, don’t you?” He suddenly walked closer, grabbing my wrist directly. “Then let’s do it. You’ll be satisfied once we’ve done it.” With that, he dragged me towards the bedroom. “Slap!” The next second, a crisp slap echoed across Jim’s face. He looked at me, bewildered. The last shred of delusion in my heart also vanished at this moment. “Do you think you’re the only one who finds this relationship disgusting?” In Jim’s incredulous eyes, I finally spoke my mind: “I’ve had enough too.” “Jim, let’s get a divorce.”

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The night Annabelle sent out her wedding invitations, I died unnoticed in a corner. She wore an exquisite gown, poised and graceful. Beside her, Liam, the groom, tucked a strand of her hair back, his gaze filled with unwavering devotion. The banquet was crowded with far more distinguished guests than when we were engaged. Liam scanned the room, then casually asked, “Didn’t you invite your close friends? The ones you’re always with?” “They didn’t show today—did you have a falling out?” He finished with a knowing half-smile. “Surely they don’t dislike me?” Annabelle’s face briefly clouded before she forced a smile. “I’ll call them.” Call after call went to voicemail. Liam’s smile faded. Those friends, though exclusive, were fiercely loyal. On such an important day, he’d expected at least a token appearance. And there I stood, openly beside Annabelle—her legitimate boyfriend, as always. But no one could see me. On stage, I saw only the silhouettes of the perfect couple: Annabelle and Liam. I finally saw the signs I’d missed in Liam from the start. He playfully pulled out his phone, screen paused on our chat. [Asher, what’s ten years?] [I always get the woman I want.] [My wedding with Annabelle is in seven days. Dare you come?] I looked down. It was more than a taunt—the malice had always been there. But by the time I understood, it was too late. I could have shown up, but he wouldn’t have seen me. Because I was already dead. The banquet ended. Liam and Annabelle, still tangled together, made their way to the car and tumbled into the back seat. The driver, accustomed to such scenes, raised the partition and started the engine. Liam leaned his face close to Annabelle’s, his liquor-laced breath hot on her skin. Annabelle giggled, turning her face away, then pecked his cheek. “You drank so much.” His voice softened, sounding endearingly docile and childish. “Don’t you dare find me repulsive!” Annabelle chuckled, tugging on Liam’s collar and bringing her lips to his. What followed was a long, suffocating kiss. I suddenly felt the air grow impossibly stifling. I moved through the car and sat on the roof, watching their intimate dance. The summer night wind couldn’t warm my icy soul. Flirting and feigning vulnerability. That was exactly the type of man Annabelle disliked most. In the past, when I occasionally showed her weakness or dependence, she would only say, “A man should act like a man. Don’t be like that; it gives me goosebumps.” By the time I came to my senses, they had already reached their destination. As they entered the villa, an invisible force tugged at me, compelling me to follow. Annabelle, upon entering, casually kicked off her heels by the shoe rack and poured herself a glass of hot water. Liam followed closely, wrapping his arms around her slender waist. “Annabelle, I’m scared…” Scared? Not just Annabelle, even I looked at him, utterly astonished. Since I’d known him, I had never once seen the word “scared” in his words or actions. Annabelle turned, revealing her collar, which had been pulled low due to the warm weather, a generous expanse of skin exposed to the man. “Scared of what?” Annabelle pressed tightly against him, allowing Liam to unzip the back of her dress. “Scared Asher will change his mind.” “Scared you’ll leave me.” “Scared I can’t truly have you.” Annabelle replied without hesitation: “He won’t. Asher won’t change his mind.” Annabelle’s certainty left me in a daze. Once, when we were most in love, Annabelle was just as certain. She said, “Never. This lifetime, I, Annabelle, will only love Asher.” That day, I believed the person I would spend the rest of my life with would definitely be her. Annabelle and I were middle school desk mates, high school classmates, college sweethearts, and then co-founders of a company—sixteen years. We got engaged when our company was well on its way. If nothing went wrong, we should have been married this year. But in our sixteenth year of knowing each other, our tenth year of love, Annabelle changed. When did Annabelle start to change? Probably when she stopped sending me messages to check on me, probably when she sat across from me, glued to her phone, unable to suppress the smile on her lips, probably when she started sending Liam good morning and good night texts every day. Hearts, they change in an instant. So when we broke up, she took all the blame, completely absolving that seemingly distinguished man. I granted her wish and didn’t reveal the evidence of Liam’s later provocations. Initially, when Liam first appeared, I didn’t think much of it. A wealthy business partner’s illegitimate son, looking to gain some experience at our company. To secure that deal, Annabelle came to me for my opinion. She suggested arranging for Liam to be an assistant, doing mundane tasks like serving tea and water, just to humor a young master, making sure he wouldn’t interfere with the company’s core business. I believed her. But I never imagined Annabelle would make Liam her personal assistant, and he remained so for a whole year. And Annabelle, using every possible excuse, convinced me to go abroad to expand the market, where I stayed for another year. When I returned, Annabelle was the future Mrs. Dalton everyone spoke of. I was Annabelle’s ex-boyfriend. Before I could confront Annabelle, she sought me out. She pushed a resignation letter across the table to me, along with a share transfer agreement. “Asher, we once said that if one day we met someone who stirred our hearts more, we would part amicably.” “You remember, right?” When Annabelle and Liam tumbled into the bedroom, I hid in the living room. Thank goodness. Annabelle and I could still maintain a small distance, sparing me from witnessing those dirty, disgusting scenes firsthand. Although Liam had already sent me videos and photos of them. Annabelle’s phone lay on the living room floor, vibrating incessantly. I moved closer; the number displayed on the screen was mine. My mind felt as if it had exploded, and I froze in shock. My fingertips trembled imperceptibly, and the moments before my death played out frame by frame before my eyes. Terror, helplessness. I remembered, I had died an undignified death. After agreeing to Annabelle’s breakup terms, I left the company. Liam found me, wanting to talk. What was there to talk about? I looked at him, but he just scoffed, “Aren’t you curious why I chose Annabelle?” “Why?” I asked, following his lead. Liam took me to a coffee shop near the company. “I just wanted to see how deep Annabelle’s feelings for you were. Turns out, not much.” I didn’t want to waste words with him. But as I stepped out, I was grabbed by several men and shoved into a van. The car bumped along, from the city to the suburbs, from daylight to nightfall. Until the mountain wind howled, and jagged branches scraped my exposed arms. “Liam sent you?” I asked, forcing myself to sound calm. The four men before me were emaciated, their eyes sunken, emitting a peculiar stench. The one in charge took a long drag from his cigarette, looking at me like a lamb to the slaughter. My heart pounded like a drum, but I still desperately sought a way out. “I don’t have any money on me. Let me go, whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it.” This earned me a chorus of harsh laughter. Their violent faces presaged my impending doom. “Kid, learn your lesson in the next life. Don’t mess with the wrong people.” My knees were shattered by an iron bar, my knuckles crushed by a leather boot, and my face was swollen from repeated slaps. One of them sighed regretfully, “Too bad he’s not a chick; otherwise, we could have some fun.” Another chimed in crudely, “Look at that tender skin; does it matter if he’s a chick?” The first one retorted in disgust, “You think everyone’s like you, a pervert?” Listening to this conversation, my heart turned to ice. Later, someone stripped off my outer clothes. I used all my strength to bite off a piece of flesh, enraging that beast. And then my life, and my suffering, came to an end. Blood gushed onto the ground. When I opened my eyes again, I stood behind Annabelle, watching her hold Liam’s hand, announcing their wedding date. Counting the days, her wedding was on the seventh day after my death. One in the morning, Annabelle walked out wrapped in a bath towel. She picked up the phone from the sofa and, seeing the missed calls, her pupils contracted. I huddled on the sofa, trembling, my mind filled with the images of my death. Liam’s voice came from the bedroom: “Annabelle, what’s wrong?” Annabelle suppressed the emotion in her eyes, deleted the call log, and walked towards Liam, phone in hand, to embrace him. The seamless way she deleted the records reminded me vividly of how she used to be when I rarely returned home to see her years ago. In the early days of my time abroad, Annabelle would always video call me. She would complain about how much work there was at the company, and she’d playfully whine, wishing I were by her side. I’d respond while processing documents. “When did you become so clingy?” “Why are you whining and whimpering like that?” I thought I was just casually teasing her, but I hadn’t expected her face to turn instantly pale. It was only later that I realized. People who spend a long time together inadvertently begin to adopt similar ways of speaking. The next morning, Annabelle left Liam’s apartment. As she left, she gently kissed Liam’s face. “Sleep in, you don’t have to go to the office today.” I found it somewhat amusing. Annabelle used to be very particular about time. Rain or shine, she would always wake up on schedule and wouldn’t allow me to be idle, fearing it would delay the day’s work. For sixteen years, I had grown accustomed to her habits, the ones she made me adopt. But it turned out all her habits could be broken, and that exception was reserved for one particular person. I followed Annabelle to the company. My assistant of three years was pacing anxiously outside Annabelle’s office, clutching a contract. Seeing Annabelle, she spoke with urgency: “Ms. Xu, there was a problem with the contract Mr. Nan negotiated a few days ago during signing.” “The other party insists on meeting Mr. Nan before they’ll sign.” Annabelle glanced at the assistant, seemingly not taking it too seriously, but rather said as if it were obvious, “Then call Asher; he’ll go.” The assistant looked at Annabelle with some embarrassment; her phone receiver only delivered repeated unanswerable tones. Perhaps there were too many unanswered calls, for Annabelle’s brow furrowed deeper, and the contract she was reviewing was slammed onto the table with force. “How long have you been calling?” “You haven’t gotten through since this morning?” Annabelle’s gaze swept to the little assistant standing to the side, impatience written plainly on her face. The assistant flinched slightly, “Yes, Ms. Xu.” I stood by the desk, a little surprised why my phone wouldn’t connect. Clearly, last night, my phone had called Annabelle’s. Annabelle probably thought I was doing it on purpose. I pressed my lips together, sketching a self-mocking smile, and idly scanned the contracts casually strewn across the desk. Many of the clauses in the contract had been changed. Completely different from the terms I had negotiated. Liam’s doing. After all, he had taken my place. Annabelle didn’t speak for a long time, staring intently at her phone screen. On the screen was her chat interface with me; she had sent me a message two minutes ago, “Call me back ASAP.” Annabelle’s jaw was tight, simmering with an anger ready to erupt. Until her best friend, Stella, called her: “Annabelle, Asher he…” “Asher isn’t at the company.” “I’m looking for him too.” “If you get in touch with him, tell him to come to the company as soon as possible.” Stella’s words were cut off by Annabelle. Without waiting for a response from the other end, Annabelle quickly hung up and walked into the conference room. I was pulled along by Annabelle’s swift steps, but a faint, hollow ache resonated in my chest. Annabelle had hung up too quickly. As a result, I desperately wanted to know what Stella had been trying to say, but had no way of knowing. Was she going to say I was missing, or had she already known about my death? How humiliating, such a disgusting way to die. The conference room was silent. I had been negotiating that deal for nearly half a month, and Annabelle broke up with me just as it was about to be finalized. Many people said Annabelle was ditching me after using me. Now, the millstone wouldn’t turn. When Stella arrived at the company, Annabelle was in a furious rage.

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I was the Peacock Princess. The year I came of age, every male peacock in the kingdom came seeking my hand. I distinctly chose Carbonell, a noble Green Peacock, yet the child I bore after marriage was a lowly White Peacock. Carbonell, seeing the White Peacock, flew into a rage. He snatched the infant, dashed it to its death, then threw me to be devoured by wild beasts. My sister, who had married a common Blue Peacock, bore a rare Violet Peacock. Her husband, in turn, became the new King of Birds. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day I chose Carbonell as my husband. Before everyone, he rejected me, asking for my sister’s hand instead. I knew then: he had also been reborn. He believed that by marrying my sister, he would father a Violet Peacock. But this time, he wouldn’t even produce the lowliest Black Peacock. … 1 After the Phoenix clan’s demise, we, the Peacocks, ascended as the new rulers of the avian world. Peacocks came in six colors: Obsidian, Violet, Green, Blue, White, and Black. Obsidian was the most mythical; for three million years, no one had seen one, leading many to doubt its existence. Violet Peacocks were exceedingly rare, appearing only once every hundred millennia. Thus, within the Peacock Kingdom, Green Peacocks were the most esteemed, and Black Peacocks the most lowly. In my father’s generation, he sired only female peacocks. To secure the succession, he was forced to seek a son-in-law from outside the royal family. He promised the throne to whoever’s child with his daughter proved to be the noblest peacock. I was Father’s most beloved youngest princess, and his only Green Peacock daughter. So, on my coming-of-age day, every eligible male in the realm gathered outside the palace gates, vying for my hand. After rigorous selection, I chose Carbonell, also a Green Peacock. Father was extremely pleased with Carbonell; he was exceptionally handsome, considered the Peacock Kingdom’s foremost gentleman, and Father’s ideal heir. Father immediately announced his approval of the match, setting a date for our wedding. “Your Majesty, I do not wish to marry Princess Willow. This time, I request to marry Princess Seraphina.” I had just been reborn. Carbonell had released my hand and taken a step back, bowing before Father. A collective gasp swept through the assembled crowd. Even Seraphina looked stunned, though a look of thinly veiled glee quickly spread across her face. Seraphina was ten years my senior and still unmarried. This was because my mother was Father’s only officially wedded Queen, while Seraphina’s mother had been a lady-in-waiting who’d used underhanded tactics to gain Father’s favor. Thus, although Seraphina was also Father’s daughter, few truly treated her as a princess, and no one was willing to marry her. Everyone was perplexed as to why Carbonell, a noble Green Peacock, would choose an ordinary Blue Peacock. Only I knew that Carbonell, too, had been reborn. He chose Seraphina because, in our past life, Seraphina had married a Blue Peacock but had surprisingly borne a rare Violet Peacock. Meanwhile, I had given him a low-tier White Peacock. Faced with Carbonell’s choice, Father’s face darkened. “Nonsense! This is Willow’s royal courtship. If you wish to court Seraphina, you may approach me privately. You came to participate in the selection of a suitor, and Willow chose you, yet you scorn her. Where does that leave my daughter’s honor?” Father, advanced in years, valued his reputation above all else. Carbonell’s actions were undeniably a public slap in the face. Carbonell immediately knelt. “Your Majesty, it is not that I scorn Princess Willow, but because Princess Willow is of ill character. She has concealed her true identity as a Black Peacock and deceived everyone!” He spoke with righteous indignation, pointing accusingly at me. The entire hall fell silent, disbelief etched on every face. “What nonsense are you spouting? My Willow is no Black Peacock!” Before Father could speak, Mother stepped forward. 2 “Oh? If Your Majesty the Queen is so certain, why not let Princess Willow reveal her true form? If Princess Willow is a Green Peacock, then I, Carbonell, will offer my life in atonement.” Carbonell looked at Mother with disdain. “If not, then Princess Willow should offer her life in atonement, how about that?” Mother’s face darkened, her brow furrowed. Father’s expression shifted from shock to suspicion, his face instantly grim. More than reputation, Father valued lineage. He was a Green Peacock, yet his other daughters were merely common Blue Peacocks. So, upon my birth, hearing that my peacock color was noble, he had showered all his affection upon me. Now, hearing Carbonell claim I was the lowest-ranked Black Peacock, he practically crushed the armrest of his chair. Mother remained speechless for a long moment. Carbonell’s expression morphed from disdain to smugness. “It’s just revealing your true form, surely that’s not difficult? Is the Queen’s hesitation because I’m correct?” Mother’s face grew even more distressed. Just as she was about to speak, I stepped directly in front of her, openly admitting, “I am indeed not a Green Peacock.” Mother cried out, “Willow, how could you?” Carbonell was forcing me to reveal my true form precisely because he knew I wasn’t a Green Peacock. In our past life, during childbirth, I had revealed my true form due to complications. That had shocked Carbonell. Because everyone believed I was Father’s only Green Peacock daughter, Carbonell had gone to great lengths to marry me. Peacock eggs match the peacock’s color, so after I laid a white egg, Carbonell was enraged. He not only smashed my egg but also slit the throat of my still-in-true-form self. Not only that, he then tossed my dying body into the back mountains, where numerous wild beasts tore me apart. “Good, good, good!” Carbonell laughed loudly, standing up and unfastening his ceremonial sword, throwing it at my feet. “Since you’ve admitted it, then Princess, please offer your life in atonement.” I said, “But I never claimed to be a Green Peacock. What crime have I committed?” When I was born, there were extraordinary phenomena in the sky. The entire Peacock Kingdom’s sky was filled with a rainbow of colors. Everyone said I was an auspicious omen. Only my mother, who bore me, knew that I was a dull, dark egg. She dismissed everyone and wrapped the egg in cloth. On the day I hatched, only she had seen my true form. From childhood, I had never claimed to be a Green Peacock. In my past life, before marrying Carbonell, I had sought him out and told him I was not actually a Green Peacock. At that time, Carbonell told me he didn’t mind; he loved me for who I was. I was touched by him and happily married him, fulfilling my duties as a wife after marriage. But it was only when I died that I learned. He had thought I was testing him, which was why he said those things. “Even if you never claimed to be a Green Peacock, you also never revealed your true form as a Black Peacock. You’ve enjoyed the royal family’s wealth and glory; this is deceiving the populace.” Although there was no law forbidding Black Peacocks from remaining in the royal family, ever since the third Peacock King, any Black Peacock appearing in the royal family would be banished. Just as I was about to say I wasn’t a Black Peacock either, Father spoke. “Enough, Carbonell. Since you wish to marry Seraphina, I shall grant you both a royal marriage.” Carbonell immediately knelt. “Thank Your Majesty. What about Princess Willow?” “Carbonell, this is my private family matter. How long do you intend to meddle?” Carbonell immediately understood Father’s meaning. “This subject is guilty.” Under everyone’s watchful eyes, Carbonell led Seraphina away. As she passed me, Seraphina gave me a meaningful glance. She whispered in my ear, “You have your comeuppance today.” 3 Back at the palace, Father erupted in a furious rage. He demanded to know why Mother and I had deceived him. Just as I was about to tell him that while I wasn’t a Green Peacock, I was certainly not a Black Peacock, Father waved his hand dismissively. “From today forward, I have no daughter named Willow. After Seraphina’s wedding next month, you are to leave the palace.” Father not only banished me but also placed Mother under house arrest. The news spread like wildfire, further solidifying my identity as a Black Peacock. In just one day, I went from being universally adored to universally scorned. My reputation plummeted, and naturally, no man would ever want to marry me. I accepted everything calmly. My days were spent either in my room or in the royal library. That afternoon, the weather was clear, the sun shining brightly. I called for a handmaiden and asked her to watch from below. I transformed into my true form and flew into the sky, momentarily eclipsing the sun. A few moments later, I landed and resumed my human form. “Princess, it’s just as you said! When you spread your wings, your entire body is a rainbow of colors, absolutely stunning!” The handmaiden praised profusely. “You truly are the most beautiful Black Peacock I’ve ever seen.” I smiled faintly. The handmaiden’s words confirmed my suspicion. Just as I was about to ask her to draw my true form, I heard a scoff. “A Black Peacock is still a Black Peacock. No matter how pretty, it’s still the lowest of the Peacock clan.” After the incident, my palace quarters were exceptionally quiet. Only she, it seemed, would bother to come and mock me. I looked up to see Seraphina, resplendent in elegant attire, standing at the doorway. Having caught the eye of Carbonell, the Peacock Kingdom’s foremost gentleman, Seraphina was basking in glory lately. Her clothing and daily provisions were even more luxurious than mine, the once-favored princess. She finally held her head high, parading her authority throughout the palace. I heard several handmaidens from her palace had mysteriously disappeared. “Little sister, how can you still have the nerve to stay in the palace? Father gave you a month’s grace out of respect for Mother. If you were sensible, you’d leave quickly and stop disgracing our royal family.” Seraphina had never liked me, even when I was a child. Only because she envied my favor. I sneered. “Why has my second sister come to my quarters? Are you looking for your handmaidens? Then you’ve come to the wrong place. They’re probably in the maw of the beasts in the back mountains. Aren’t you afraid their spirits will come to take you away if you wander carelessly?” Seraphina’s face paled, and she gritted her teeth. “What are you so proud of? You’re merely a cast-off of the royal family now, while I’m about to marry Carbonell. He’s the most noble Green Peacock, and he said that our union might produce an incredibly noble Violet Peacock.” I gave her a cold glance. “Is that so? Congratulations, congratulations. Then why don’t you hurry and go make babies with Carbonell? Though I should warn you, Carbonell doesn’t look like he can have children.” “How dare you slander my husband? You’re asking for death!” Seraphina raised her hand, aiming to strike me. But she had never been able to beat me in a fight since childhood. This time, she only managed to get hit. Before I could land a few blows, I was pulled away by a great force. Carbonell had appeared. “Who allowed you to bully Seraphina?” Seeing Carbonell, Seraphina instantly transformed into a delicate damsel, leaning into him, pointing at me and saying in a sickly sweet voice, “Carbonell, you’re finally here. She cursed me, saying I wouldn’t be able to bear your child.” “How could that be? You will definitely bear me a perfect Violet Peacock.” Carbonell gently caressed her face. “As for her, I doubt she’ll ever bear even a White Peacock in this lifetime.” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but let out a cynical “Ha!” “I wonder who won’t be able to bear children.” Carbonell’s face turned cold. Carbonell had a secret, known only to me. He was infertile. In my past life, when I learned this, I had wanted to say that having no children was fine; as long as we loved each other, nothing else mattered. Carbonell, however, didn’t see it that way. To secure the throne, he begged me to take the fertility herb, a plant that induces childbirth. That herb, once ingested, would consume one’s inner essence, draining all vital energy. That was why I revealed my true form during childbirth. Not only that, using this herb had severe side effects. Headaches and nausea were minor; the most unbearable symptom was an itch deep in the bones, no matter how much you scratched, it wouldn’t go away. Perhaps fearing I would reveal more, Carbonell quickly led Seraphina away. After they left, the handmaiden came out with the finished drawing. The moment I saw the portrait, my pupils dilated. This painting completely confirmed my suspicions. I had spent these past days in the royal library, poring over ancient texts. Old records stated that Obsidian Peacocks were inherently dark in color, but under sunlight, they displayed a rainbow of hues. An Obsidian Peacock, after consuming the fertility herb, would lay a white egg, and upon hatching, a violet phoenix would emerge. So, I was not a Black Peacock at all. I was the legendary Obsidian Peacock. And my egg was not a White Peacock, but a high-grade Violet Peacock. Because no one had ever seen an Obsidian Peacock, Carbonell simply didn’t recognize its true value. Knowing this, I told no one. Now, everyone condemned me, and even if I spoke, no one would believe me. To prove myself, I would have to lay an egg and hatch it. Who could I find to lay an egg with? My reputation was ruined; no decent peacock would ever mate with me. There was no choice. I had to buy a husband from the black market. After some careful choosing, I finally picked one that was pleasing to the eye. His appearance was remarkably striking, though he was, unfortunately, a multi-colored rooster. No matter. Ancient texts stated that an Obsidian Peacock could mate with any bird and still produce an auspicious offspring of Violet Peacock or higher. As long as my genes were involved, the child would be perfect. The first day I brought the man home, I started stripping his clothes. His ears were beet-red, and he clutched the ties of his clothes tightly. “Pr-princess, don’t we need to… cultivate some feelings before… doing this?” Cultivate feelings? How troublesome. I released my grip, smiling at him. “How do you think we should cultivate them?” “At-at least we should get to know each other first.” “Oh.” I sat back down. “My name is Willow. What’s yours?” “Zach.” Alright. Done getting to know each other, I immediately pounced. Time for business.

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1 Seven years after Jackson and I split, we met at the City Clerk’s office. He was picking up his marriage license; I was there for my divorce. Jackson smirked at me. “You went on about love when you cheated. Now you’re here getting divorced?” I replied calmly, “I’ve always been bad at judging people.” His face turned cold for a moment. Then he showed everyone my secondhand app and announced loudly: “Seven years married, and you’re still selling what I gave you — three million six hundred eighty thousand in total.” He snatched my divorce papers, checked the compensation, and sneered: “With the twenty‑five thousand eight hundred and seven cents from your ex, you still owe me three million six hundred fifty‑four thousand one hundred ninety‑nine dollars and seven cents.” “Why seven cents?” his new wife asked.“Discounted iced water,” he said. The crowd laughed at the so‑called gold‑digger’s humiliation. … “Trying to milk money from rich folks, eh? They’re way too shrewd to spend an extra cent on someone not worth it.” “That seven cents must be for her water on the way home, telling her to get lost, hahahaha.” I listened to the ridicule, feeling little ripple within. I silently scanned the code and transferred the money back to him. Still, a pang of disappointment lingered. My appointment for hospice care, it seemed, would have to be canceled. I dreaded pain, you see. The stares from the crowd were too intense, so I retreated to the restroom. The message I’d sent to my husband, Caleb, half an hour ago, remained unanswered. I sighed unconsciously. “He’s still not here?” Jackson’s voice suddenly echoed behind me, startling me. I instinctively recoiled a few steps, my too-thin back hitting the washbasin with a painful thud. Frowning, I tried to evade his probing gaze. “He’s busy. He’ll be a little late.” Jackson raised an eyebrow, proceeding to wash his hands. “Looks like your standards for boyfriends have really dropped.” He spoke with an air of indifference. I was speechless, unsure how to reply. It was true, when I was with Jackson, he never let me suffer the slightest inconvenience. If I wanted fruit, a mere glance from me would have him peeling and slicing it, serving it on a platter. If we had to walk a few extra steps on a date, he’d worry about my legs hurting, and without a second thought for the onlookers, he’d carry me. As for making me wait on a date, that was an absolute impossibility. “Well, the depth of love differs, so naturally, the tolerance varies too,” I retorted, though my fingers unconsciously sent another urgent message to Caleb, “Aren’t you coming? If not, we won’t get the papers today.” “Next time, I’m not sure I’ll even be able to make it to the office…” Before I could finish typing, a signed divorce agreement arrived from him. “Give it to the staff. They’ll handle it.” His words were curt, as if speaking more to me was a chore. Jackson saw it and scoffed, “Back then, you guarded him so fiercely, never letting me know his identity.” “Guess I won’t get to see him today either.” “Mr. Dalton, isn’t it a bit… unseemly for you to be so invested in another woman’s ex? Especially if your wife were to find out,” I said, pocketing my phone and feigning a carefree tone. I looked up to see Fiona, her face beaming. “It’s fine, really. Everyone enjoys seeing a trashy ex getting their just deserts, don’t they?” With that, she forcefully pushed me aside and wrapped her arm around Jackson’s waist. “Honey, you really shouldn’t have been so good to Ms. Annabelle, considering you were the best of her past boyfriends.” “Three million dollars isn’t even enough to buy the bag I’m carrying; it’s quite embarrassing to recall, isn’t it?” Jackson hugged Fiona back, saying softly, “Alright, let’s not bring up my past disgraces.” “Spending three million on someone undeserving, I’d say that’s already too much.” In the three years I dated Jackson, I never asked him for any gifts. But back then, Jackson, who was just starting his career, insisted, “No way. Our Annabelle must have everything other wealthy women have.” Yet now, he stood with another woman, demanding I repay him under the guise of being a gold-digger. “I’ve settled the debt. Since it’s a sore subject, I won’t linger.” I nodded slightly, ready to leave. But Fiona, with a faint smile, held me back. 2 “Annabelle, don’t be upset. Our Jack was also at fault for what happened back then.” “Blame him for being too naive, for being a poor judge of character. With me around, he won’t be tricked again.” “And I’d like to give Annabelle a chance to make amends. We haven’t even taken our wedding photo yet, and I hear Annabelle is an excellent photographer. Why don’t you take ours?” “Make amends?” My fists clenched in an instant. “Fiona, what right do you have to say that? You knew everything.” Fiona froze, seemingly surprised by my bluntness. “Knew what?” My bony hand was suddenly gripped by a large one. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I was back seven years ago, the moment Fiona pleaded with me to save Jackson. But when I looked up, I met Jackson’s bottomless eyes. He seemed surprised by how thin I had become and unconsciously loosened his grip. I snapped back to reality, pulled my hand free, and hid my unsightly hands. Under Fiona’s warning gaze, I smiled and replied, “You know I’m not just any photographer you can hire cheaply.” “My husband made a bad bet, so I naturally need to squeeze more money out of my ex-boyfriend. Ms. Fiona, since you’ve picked up my slack, you wouldn’t be stingy about paying a bit more, would you?” Jackson’s tense face suddenly crumbled, finally giving way to a sneer. “Annabelle, I really shouldn’t have held such unrealistic expectations for someone like you.” Hearing me say that, Fiona also breathed a sigh of relief and casually draped her arm over Jackson’s. Gently stroking Jackson’s back, she said, “There, there, don’t get angry over a woman like this. If she wants money, we’ll just consider it giving alms to a beggar.” Inside the photography studio, through the camera lens, I finally dared to truly look at Jackson. Thankfully, the surgery seemed to have left no lingering effects on him. The exquisitely tailored bespoke suit made him look dashing and distinguished, perhaps even more handsome than he was seven years ago. Suddenly, Jackson lifted Fiona’s veil, swept her into his arms, and gave her a deep, lingering kiss through the veil. My hands, holding the camera, trembled involuntarily, several times lifting and then dropping weakly. My breathing became unconsciously shallow and rapid. Jackson’s disgusted gaze landed on me, his voice laced with sarcasm: “Annabelle, what’s the act? You don’t think I’d still feel sorry for you, letting you snap a few shots and get away with it, do you?” “No, not at all. The customer is always right; it’s my fault.” I tried my best to steady my breath, using all my strength to balance both hands. That day, I took over a thousand photos in one afternoon, my hands shaking so much they didn’t feel like my own. But Jackson and Fiona picked and chose, always finding something unsatisfactory. It wasn’t until the City Clerk’s office was about to close that they reluctantly selected the very first picture I had taken. Hearing this, I almost coughed up blood. As I walked out of the City Clerk’s office, the heavens decided to unleash a torrential downpour. On the ride-sharing app, the number of cars waiting ahead was 99+. My winter boots, soaked from waiting, grew heavy and cold. Jackson’s Cayenne screeched to a halt in front of me, splashing cold water all over me. After a day of turmoil, I was practically collapsing. Fiona rolled down the window, feigning kindness. “Ms. Annabelle, do you need a ride? I can have my Jack drop you off.” Just as I was about to politely refuse, Fiona signaled the driver to push me into the passenger seat. The moment my foot touched the floor, I sensed something amiss. Looking down, I saw it was the scarf I had spent five months knitting for Jackson years ago. The pristine white scarf was now stained and dirty, clearly having been used as a floor mat for a long time. “This scarf, I think it was a gift from you to Jack, wasn’t it, Annabelle? I’m so sorry, Jack said he felt sick every time he saw it. I thought, well, we can’t waste your efforts, so I just used it as a footrest for guests. You don’t mind, do you, Annabelle?” I gave a faint smile. “Of course not. It’s perfectly fitting for useless things to be handled this way.” Jackson impatiently tapped the driver’s back, and the driver immediately accelerated sharply. All the blood rushed to my head in an instant; I felt so nauseous I nearly threw up. Jackson knew I got carsick; he was deliberately trying to get back at me. Midway, Fiona suddenly announced she wanted dessert from North End, and they simply abandoned me on the side of the road. I checked the map, and I was even farther from my destination. Finally, utterly exhausted, I made it back to my ex-husband’s villa in the suburbs, only to find that all my belongings had been packed and sent back to my parents’ house. I had no choice but to brave the rain and return home, but as I reached the doorstep, I saw my luggage piled like trash next to the bins. The housekeeper, who saw me first, said, “Ms. Annabelle, I’m so sorry, but this was the lady of the house’s (my mother’s) instruction. She said your brother is getting married, and your room will be used as a nursery, so you’ll have to move out.” I said nothing, silently picking up the light bag of luggage. But then, I ran straight into my mother who was leaving the house. She looked at me as if I were a plague, her face instantly twisting into an expression of disgust. “Useless thing! You get married and then returned like damaged goods, can’t even help your brother one bit.” “How did I ever give birth to such a loose woman? Jackson treated you so well back then, and you didn’t appreciate it. Now you’ve backed the wrong horse, haven’t you? And you’ve dragged our whole family down with you. Why don’t you just find a place to die somewhere? Why bother coming back?” With that, she grabbed a broom to hit me. Luckily, the housekeeper intervened, giving me a chance to escape. 3 I rented a small apartment near the publishing house I often worked with. Opening my suitcase, I found that over half the items were related to Jackson. There were the paper hearts he’d casually folded for me, candid photos I’d taken of him sleeping, and photos I’d secretly taken of his recovery progress after we’d broken up. There were also news clippings of his various career achievements that I’d collected over the years. Every time I saw these things, I felt that all my suffering had been worth it. The rent almost depleted all my savings. I could only manage one night’s rest before rushing to the publishing house the next day, hoping to inquire about the delayed payment for my new book. After marrying Caleb, he never spent a single penny on me. Writing and publishing books had been my only income these past years. But the moment I entered the publishing house, everyone cast strange glances my way. “That’s her, that’s her! She’s so materialistic, abandoned her boyfriend for money, and then beautified herself as a victim in her book. It’s truly disgusting.” “Not only did she not help her boyfriend when he was sick and bankrupt, she kicked him when he was down and ran off with a rich guy. Classy.” “Do you think she knows she’s offended Mr. Dalton, and still comes to our company because she thinks we’re stupid and easy to bully? How unlucky are we to get stuck with someone like her? Now all our projects are on hold. Oh my god, am I going to lose my job?” “Hah, she even wants to use our channels to clear her name. Honestly, some people’s shamelessness knows no bounds.” “Do you think she’s crying herself to sleep every night now, seeing how successful Mr. Dalton has become?” I’d grown accustomed to hearing such things over the years, so I didn’t pay much mind. I just hadn’t expected Jackson’s actions to be so swift, even implicating the publishing house, which made me feel a pang of guilt. Soon, the editor-in-chief called me into his office and handed me a revised copy of a book. I flipped through it; the general content was not much different from my original version. However, my character had changed. I was now portrayed as the cruel ex who heartlessly abandoned her boyfriend during his toughest times. Fiona, on the other hand, had become the woman who bravely stood by Jackson when his career was at its lowest and he was gravely ill, staying devotedly by his side until his resurgence. Even the author’s name was changed directly to Fiona. “This is my book! Why is it attributed to someone else? And by what right can someone else just casually revise it?” I glared angrily at the editor-in-chief, but he snatched the book from my hands. “Annabelle, get this straight: you were the one who deceived us first. Since it’s a story based on real events, why didn’t you tell us? Why did you hide the truth and twist the facts?” “Let me be frank with you. Your book is excellent, and it won a major literary award. But now Mr. Dalton’s wife wants that award, so you have to give it to her. This is the compensation you owe her, understand?” “And setting that aside, our publishing house needs to survive. In our past collaborations, when did we ever treat you unfairly? You can’t bite the hand that feeds you.” With things laid out so plainly, I knew further argument was pointless. Jackson’s influence was too vast; I couldn’t deny him what he wanted. Dejected, I returned home, still worried about how I’d manage living expenses, only to run into my brother at my doorstep. He was carrying a large bag of my favorite snacks. My relationship with my brother wasn’t particularly good, nor was it bad. Most of our conflicts stemmed from our mother’s unfairness. After entering the house and seeing the room I was staying in, my brother’s eyes welled up. “Sis, actually, Mom and Dad miss you a lot. They’re just stubborn.” “I’ve talked to them. Everyone wants you to come back for dinner on Christmas Eve. What family quarrel can’t be mended over a meal?” With that, he sent me a restaurant address, urging me to attend. Perhaps the impending death made me a little afraid, or maybe Christmas Eve was just too cold, but by some strange impulse, I went. Seeing Jackson, the groom, and Fiona, the bride, in the hotel banquet hall, I finally understood their intentions. My mother was using me to entertain Jackson and Fiona. No wonder I was doused with cold water the moment I entered the hotel. No wonder all three elevators in the hotel coincidentally broke down at the same time, forcing me to gasp and climb twenty-plus floors. 4 Gazing at the man surrounded by the crowd, my fingers clenched. He saw me too, a mocking smile on his face. “You came to my wedding dressed like that?” he said, looking at my soaked shirt and jeans. “What, trying to snag a rich husband at my wedding, too?” “Well, I suppose any man here today, if you latch onto him, would be enough to support you for the rest of your life. You’re certainly clever.” With that, he stuffed a wad of cash into my cleavage. “My wife needs a bridesmaid. Serve her well today, and I’ll give you three million six hundred eighty thousand.” Hearing that figure, my heart twisted in pain, uncontrollably. Three million six hundred eighty thousand—that was everything Jackson had invested in me back then. Now, he intended to return it this way. Taking several deep breaths, I forced back the tears and managed a smile. “Alright, but I’ll need payment upfront. I’m afraid Mr. Dalton might change his mind.” Jackson’s face twisted into an expression of extreme disgust. Gritting his teeth, he scanned the code. Then, with a snap of his fingers, a waiter brought out over a hundred bottles of hard liquor. Two days ago, during my check-up, the doctor said my condition was worsening faster than expected. After downing over 100 bottles of this alcohol, I wasn’t sure if I’d even make it through the night. But thinking of all these years of hardship, I felt death might actually be a release. Jackson, with Fiona in his arms, began to toast. Their friends knew the story of Jackson and me, and they knew how devastated he had been when I abandoned him. He refused treatment, wouldn’t take his medicine, and stood dumbly outside my house every day, demanding an explanation. On my wedding day, his mother, desperate, locked him up, but he smashed a glass window with his bare fists. When he appeared before me, he was covered in blood, but I didn’t even spare him a second glance, only telling him to get lost. Jackson’s friends loathed me, and they mercilessly forced drinks on me, even, at Fiona’s subtle nod, adding shards of glass to my wine glass. I drank until my mouth bled, and I threw up directly. Seeing this, Jackson’s gaze wavered. Just as he was about to speak, Fiona rushed over, steadying me. “That’s enough, all of you! Even though Annabelle betrayed Jack years ago, she’s suffered so terribly all these years that she’s received her retribution. You don’t need to kick her when she’s down.” As she said this, she made to help me up, but whispered in my ear, “Actually, Jack’s illness wasn’t a terminal disease at all. A simple surgery would have cured him. The heart you donated? I fed it to my dog that very day.” In that instant, all the humiliation and painful memories of these past years flooded my mind. My brain buzzed, and all my rationality collapsed. I lunged at Fiona like a madwoman, “Fiona, you deserve to die, you deserve to die!” But before I could even touch Fiona’s collar, Jackson brutally kicked me away. A sharp pain exploded in my ribs; I felt as if every bone in my body had shattered. Jackson held Fiona tightly in his arms, his face filled with anguished concern. Fiona, still shaken, whimpered, “Jack, I was just trying to help Annabelle. Why did she do this to me?” Jackson turned his head to look at me, his face so dark it seemed to drip ink. “Annabelle, you really are rotten to the core!” “Get down on your knees and apologize to Fiona.” When I didn’t move, he kicked my stomach hard, then grabbed my hair and yanked me up. “Don’t even think about leaving here alive until you’ve kowtowed 99 times!” His friends rushed in, forcing my head down, slamming it against the ground again and again. Finally, from sheer exhaustion, I passed out. Just before losing consciousness entirely, I saw my parents rushing towards me like madmen, not to check on my injuries, but to pick up the money that had fallen from my chest. Jackson froze, his gaze at me growing complicated. When the paramedics asked for the patient’s family, my parents and brother all denied knowing me. Jackson was about to say something, but a commotion broke out in the crowd. “The patient’s husband is here, everyone make way!” The moment he saw the man, Jackson’s pupils contracted sharply.

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My childhood friend and I joined a dating reality show, aiming to be the ultimate sloths, all for that juicy appearance fee. We’d burst into laughter during tasks, then argue while watching other couples. Even when the surprise guests arrived, we were still just munching on sunflower seeds, enjoying the drama. The next second, my friend’s face went white as he pointed at the big-shot socialite from the city’s elite circles: “Your ex-husband!” I, my hand trembling, pointed at the high-society heiress: “Your ex-wife!” We scrambled to the director, begging to quit. The director just smirked. “Ten times the penalty for breach of contract. Immediate payment.” As Mike and I exchanged a look, we knew. We’d fallen straight into a wolf’s den. 1 Mike and I, we were inseparable, practically grew up in the same sandbox. Our families always joked we were two peas in a pod, destined to cause trouble. Freshmen year of college, a photo of us went viral, and somehow, we tumbled into the entertainment industry. To avoid rumors, and for a ridiculous sense of pride, we agreed to act like strangers, vowing to meet at the top. Turns out, we never made it to the top. We rolled down halfway up the mountain. After years of struggling, we were still nobodies, ridiculed by netizens as “Wooden Beauty” and “Stone-Faced Hunk.” That wasn’t even the worst of it. On New Year’s Eve, with fireworks exploding overhead, we squatted on the curb, crying like heartbroken puppies. We’d both been dumped on the same day. Mike’s nose was running, and he snarled, “I’m never playing lapdog for that woman again!” I used his ridiculously expensive down jacket as a tissue to wipe my tears. “I broke up too! For real this time! Who wants to put up with such an arrogant man anyway? Let someone else do it!” We ended up stumbling home, dead drunk, leaning on each other. Sobering up, we were completely disillusioned. This rotten industry was unbearable. “Let’s just quit.” “Agreed!” Mike was quicker to respond than anyone. We were both graduates from prestigious universities; we weren’t worried about finding work. Just as I was about to contact a lawyer to send out my termination letter, my agent, Jenna, tossed a gig my way. A live-streamed dating show, its main selling point was being “wild.” “Willow, you’re taking this show whether you like it or not. You’re quitting anyway, so you might as well go be a cautionary tale. Be a little crazy, a little dramatic. Infamy is still fame, got it?” Why should I? I was leaving; why should I be a stepping stone for others? I’d just typed out, “Jenna, I’m done. Whoever wants this crap can have it…” when another message from Jenna popped up. “Ten million dollars for the appearance fee.” The finger hovering over the delete key instantly froze. Ten million? I quickly erased my text, replying demurely, “It’s not about the money.” Jenna: “Ten million per episode.” Hiss— I immediately replied, “Jenna, to be honest, I’m quite the wild card in my private life. This gig is perfect for me!” 2 After signing the contract, feeling utterly pleased, I opened my door and bumped right into Mike, who’d come over to scrounge for food. Our eyes met, and a strange, guilty air hung between us. Wait, I was guilty because I’d sold out for money, but what was he guilty about? My parents and Aunt Sarah were chatting animatedly. My mom’s eyes sparkled. “It’s finally happening? I knew those two kids had something going on!” Aunt Sarah was even more excited. “I’ve got the dowry ready; we can propose anytime!” Just as the conversation was veering towards grandchildren, Mike quickly interrupted. “Stop, stop, stop! Willow and I are talking work, purely work!” He dragged me onto the balcony and closed the door. Mike’s gaze darted around. “Uh, have you sent your termination letter yet?” I picked at my fingernails, stammering, “Not yet… I still have a mall appearance event to finish.” I couldn’t very well tell him I was going to a dating show to rake in cash, it would make me seem so spineless. Hearing that, Mike instantly straightened his back. “Coincidentally, I haven’t sent mine either. I still have a cameo to do in a movie.” We exchanged a look, both seeing “like hell you do” in the other’s eyes. But neither of us called the other out. This unspoken understanding stemmed from our shared best friend, Miles. Back in the day, Mike, Miles, and I were the ultimate trio. But since Mike and Miles often bickered, I became the double agent. In front of Mike, I’d denounce Miles: “That Miles is so stingy, let’s not hang out with him!” Mike, pleased, would give all his snacks to me. Then, turning to Miles, I’d sigh: “Actually, Mike’s quite pitiful, just don’t bother with him.” Miles, touched, would treat me to meals all over the city. Until one day, Miles treated me to crab, and Mike gave me two dried persimmons. That night, I ended up in the emergency room. The two “creditors” squared up at my bedside, and my double-agent scheme completely blew up. Miles sneered, “I’m stingy?” Mike gritted his teeth, “I’m pitiful?” I huddled under the blanket, shivering. “The doctor said all that, don’t blame me…” Now, bringing up old times, we both tacitly chose to keep quiet. 3 Three days later, on a secluded island, at the set of the dating show. I walked in a flowing red backless gown, teetering on stilettos, ready to make a grand exit from my showbiz career. According to the script, I was supposed to choose a male guest for a romantic encounter. But when I looked up, I saw Mike, looking absurdly dapper in a suit. The sea breeze ruffled through his hair as the cameras zoomed in frantically. The production team practically wanted to emblazon “FATED ROMANCE” across the screen. I pressed my lips together, desperately trying not to laugh. Mike’s cheeks puffed out, clearly holding back a giggle himself. The moment our fingertips touched, we both burst. “Hahahaha!” Our laughter startled the seagulls and utterly bewildered the viewers watching the live stream. “Are these two crazy?” “Didn’t they say they weren’t close? What’s with this level of synchronicity?” “Can I get a refund? I came here for sweet romance, not a comedy show!” We couldn’t care less. We found a corner and sat down, coasting along. On the surface, we were on our phones, but in reality, we were bombing Miles in our “Anti-Scumbag Alliance” group chat. Me: “Dr. Miles, quick, watch the live stream. How’s Mike and my acting?” Mike: “Miles, isn’t my suit cool?” Miles: “Get lost. I just got off surgery; I don’t have time to watch you two monkeys.” Me: “Don’t be so cold! How about we talk about that time you were chased by a goose as a kid?” Mike: “Or your heroic feat of throwing a firecracker into a cowpat?” Miles: “…It seems you two have really moved on, if you’re still in the mood to tease me.” With that one sentence, the group chat instantly went silent. That familiar pang in my chest returned. Just then, the show provided red wine, and Mike and I drank it down like water, glass after glass. Once the alcohol kicked in, our chatter was unstoppable. We completely forgot about the dozens of hidden cameras around us. Mike’s eyes were red, his voice choked. “Willow, do you think she never loved me? I was so obedient, so good. If she said east, I’d never go west, but she still dumped me.” I banged on the table, even more agitated than him. “What’s that compared to? My ex was the real piece of work! He always had a cold face, like I owed him eight hundred thousand dollars. If I so much as glanced at someone else, he’d accuse me of being unfaithful. Even my breathing was wrong!” The live stream exploded. “Holy crap! Is this paid content?!” “Who are these two nobodies’ exes? This sounds so juicy!” “Mike’s crying makes me want to wipe his tears. Such a puppy!” “Willow’s mouth is amazing, this is genuine!” Just as we were about to drop more bombshells, Miles’s call came through. The ringing was jarring, instantly snapping us awake. Miles roared on the other end of the line, “You two! Do you want to be blacklisted tomorrow?! That’s a live stream! A live stream!” Mike and I exchanged a look, cold sweat instantly breaking out. I gave a dry laugh, giving a thumbs-up to the camera. “Mr. Thompson’s line delivery is amazing! What do you all think of that impromptu performance?” Mike immediately caught on, chiming in, “Ms. Davies isn’t bad either, full of emotion and clearly layered! Come on, let’s continue to discuss that script…” 4 After that night of “madness,” Mike and I actually became popular. Netizens were speculating about who our awful exes could possibly be. We, however, weren’t worried at all. Those two big shots, one a high-and-mighty business tycoon, the other an arrogant heiress from a prominent family, how could they stoop to appear on an entertainment show like this? Unless the sun rose from the west. The next day, the sun shone brightly. Mike and I each grabbed a handful of sunflower seeds, squatting in the shade, watching the other guests flirt. “Look at that innocent girl. Her eyes are practically melting. She must have a thing for that movie star.” “Give me a break, that’s acting. I bet fifty cents the movie star likes the sophisticated lady.” The comment section was filled with laughter. “Are these two here to be commentators?” “Never seen such down-to-earth celebrities, I love them.” “They’re like the old folks at the village entrance.” Just as we were engrossed in our snacking, the director’s megaphone blared. “Attention all guests, two mystery guests will be arriving on the island shortly. Please prepare to welcome them.” Mike and I exchanged a glance and continued cracking seeds. “Hope a handsome guy comes, to cleanse my eyes.” “A beautiful woman would be nice too, even if I can’t pursue her, she’d still be pleasing to look at.” The next second, a yacht docked. A man and a woman stepped off the boat. The man was tall and imposing, radiating a powerful aura, his face as cold as if he’d just been pulled from an ice chamber. The woman wore designer clothes, sunglasses concealing her eyes, walking with a confident stride, every movement oozing wealth. The live stream instantly erupted. “Holy crap! Is that Mr. Buckley? The head of the Buckley Group?!” “Is that Ms. Vance next to him? The Vance family’s heiress, just returned from abroad?” “Did the production team sell a kidney? How did they manage to invite these two titans?!” The sunflower seeds in Mike’s and my hands scattered with a clatter. Our smiles froze on our faces, looking worse than crying. I trembled, pointing at the man. “Mike, that’s… your ex-husband…” Mike shivered, pointing at the woman. “Willow, that’s… your ex-wife…” Run! That was the only thought in my head. We both bolted towards the production team. “Director! We want to quit! We’ll pay the penalty! We’ll sell everything we own if we have to!” The director slowly sipped his tea, holding up a single finger. “The penalty is ten times, and it must be paid in cash, immediately.” Mike and I’s legs went limp; we nearly collapsed. We were doomed. This time, we were truly trapped in a setup. Before we could even think of a countermeasure, two familiar, chilling voices sounded from behind us. “Why the rush? Don’t you want to say hello to old friends?”

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Waking up in the middle of the night, my wife, Evelyn Lee, was crying, pleading with me to let her see that young man one last time. “Just one last goodbye, and I’ll come straight back. Please, I’m begging you, alright?” In our seven years of marriage, this was only the second time she’d spoken to me with such a cajoling, desperate tone. The first was when I walked in on the young man, disheveled, scrambling out of her office. Afraid I’d make a scene, she’d clutched my hand, pleading: “Darling, I promise I’ll break it off with him. Don’t divorce me, I’d die without you. Can you… can you do that for me?” I gave her a chance. And just as she promised, she devoted herself entirely to our home, becoming the flawless wife everyone admired. Until tonight. I flicked on the bedside lamp, looked into her eyes, and answered steadily: “Go. Don’t leave yourself with any regrets.” I had none left. I hoped she wouldn’t either. 1 The sudden glare stung Evelyn’s eyes, making her instinctively squeeze them shut. The tear tracks on her face became starkly clear, glaringly so. A sudden, bitter laugh caught in my throat; the whole scene felt absurd, almost comical. This was the woman who, in her youth, had shielded me from a thug’s swinging rebar, almost crippling her right arm, and hadn’t even flinched. Now, she was weeping like this, heartbroken over the departure of a twenty-something boy. Her drunken haze slowly receded as she scrutinized my expression. After a few seconds, she sagged like a spring that had been taut for too long, collapsing onto the bed. “You can yell like you used to, you can slap my face and forbid me from going.” “You don’t have to pretend you don’t care, just to make me feel guilty, do you?” “It’s tiresome, Ethan Pierson.” Her face was a mask of suppressed pain. Ever since Evelyn had “returned to the family,” these suffocating silences had become common. Outsiders, oblivious to the undercurrents, would marvel at how our marriage, even after the seven-year itch, seemed to grow stronger. They’d joke about Professor Lee, a distinguished academic, rushing home from work like a lovesick teenager, unable to bear a second away from me. My photo graced her social media profile; my picture adorned her background. She even handed over her phone, allowing me to check it whenever I wished. She was the picture of a devoted, perfect wife. But only we knew the stormy seas churning beneath that seemingly tranquil surface. After that incident, I became hypersensitive, fragile, and my words grew sharp, laced with bitterness. If she complimented a tie, saying it made me look younger, I’d accuse her: “Is it because you have someone younger, fresher in your heart now, that you’re suddenly complaining I’m old?” She once took me on a date to a trendy restaurant. Everything was going well until I heard her casually say, “Their signature dish is quite good.” I immediately erupted, demanding to know why she’d brought me to a place she’d already visited with another man. But I wasn’t like this before. 2 I used to be cheerful, optimistic, the life of the party for my family and friends. How had I become this person? Honestly, the first time I caught her cheating, I thought about divorce. She was the one who, back then, had spent an entire month begging me, swearing countless times that she’d never make the same mistake again. Yet, later, she was also the one who would look at me with a cold face when I lost my temper, asking if I was done throwing a tantrum. During one of my worst breakdowns, I smashed almost everything in the house. I pointed at her, my voice raw and hoarse, shouting: “Do you think I only forgave you that one time?!” “No, it’s every sleepless night, every time the memory resurfaces, I forgive you again.” “Why is it that you’re the one who made the mistake, but I’m the one who suffers?!” I hadn’t shattered the glass, but every day, I felt like I was walking over it. Tonight was our eighth wedding anniversary. Everything had started so well. Evelyn, uncharacteristically, had drunk a lot. With every sip, she’d whisper “I love you.” After a hundred repetitions of these sweet words, both our faces were flushed, as if we were back in the throes of first love. I even silently thought, maybe, just maybe, I should truly forgive her. Pretend nothing ever happened. But only moments ago, a stark realization hit me: how utterly foolish I had been. Her emotional display wasn’t born of love for me. It was grief over another man’s departure. And just like that, I felt no regrets. I pulled out the divorce papers, already prepared in my bedside table, and handed them to her. “Evelyn Lee, I’m letting you go.” But she sprang up from the bed, startled. “Ethan Pierson, are you trying to drive me to my death?!” “Steve Pierson is leaving for Toronto soon. We’ll never have a chance to meet again after this.” “I just want to see him off, as his professor. Is that really so wrong?!” Her phone rang, a sudden, jarring sound. Her voice, as she answered, was incredibly gentle. “Yes, wait for me. I’ll be there in half an hour.” Before she left, Evelyn threw the divorce papers into the trash. “Everything can wait until I get back.” “But divorce? Don’t even think about it.” The door slammed shut with a bang. In the room, only my quiet sobs remained. I had checked. There were no flights to Toronto tonight. Sure enough, a short while later, Steve sent me a picture. Evelyn, naked, was nestled securely in his arms, sleeping peacefully. “Professor Lee says she can only sleep soundly when she’s with me now.” “Do you really think she’s not divorcing you because she still loves you? She just doesn’t want to jeopardize her promotion to associate dean next week.” I looked at the crumpled divorce papers in the trash, the ones that had proposed splitting our assets evenly. I suddenly smiled. She was the one who betrayed me. The one who should pay the price. 3 Evelyn and I were college sweethearts. After graduation, she stayed on at the university, while I pursued a career in a multinational corporation. But after we got married, citing her busy university projects, she asked if I would consider quitting my job to focus on our home. At the time, I was embroiled in a messy corporate power struggle, so I agreed. But now, I was divorcing her. Returning to the workforce was inevitable. However, being out of touch with society for so long, the years of blank space on my resume would make it difficult to find a job with the same benefits as before. So I decided to go abroad for further studies, which would also fill the gap on my CV. As I was using the study computer, browsing doctoral program requirements for universities abroad, I stumbled upon a private folder. The title: [To My Dearest] Those three short words gradually blurred before my eyes. As if disbelieving, I typed in my birthday, her birthday, our wedding anniversary. Stubbornly, I tried every number with special meaning to us. But none worked. Until I opened Steve’s social media, found his birthday, and entered it. The folder unlocked. I already knew the answer, yet seeing the result with my own eyes still brought a surge of suffocating pain to my chest. The folder was a hefty 4.3 GB. It was meticulously filled with everything related to Steve Pierson. The razor he casually discarded, she picked it up and took a picture of it against her chest. Videos of Steve sleeping, head on the desk, when they were rushing projects together in the studio. Voice messages Steve sent her, his way of addressing her, from the initially respectful “Professor Lee” to later “Sister,” and then, “Wife.” Evelyn had carefully noted her feelings for each entry. She called him her “little moon,” writing: [My little moon, I often feel like a sick dog chained up, and only when I occasionally look up at you does my soul find release.] [That day you said you would give yourself to me as a gift, but I refused. Not because I didn’t love you, but because I dared not defile you.] She hated that she hadn’t met him sooner, and even more, that she was already married when she did. I felt like a thief, prying into someone else’s privacy, peeking through the screen at their bone-deep love affair. The last entry was from the day I discovered their affair. Evelyn had written a suicide note, filled with nothing but guilt towards Steve. She had changed her address for him; she called him, my husband. [My husband, if I should unfortunately pass away one day, all my assets will belong to you.] [As for Ethan Pierson, I have wronged him. Just leave him enough money to live out his golden years.] My blood ran cold. My hand, clutching the mouse, trembled uncontrollably. My stomach churned, and I retched into the trash can. It was at that exact moment that Evelyn returned. Her eyes immediately darted to the computer screen, and she panicked, stammering defensively: “N-no, it’s not like that, darling, listen to me.” “I just wanted to vent my emotions. There’s nothing else between us…” Before she could say more, I wiped my mouth and sat upright. Looking into her eyes, I said each word distinctly: “I’m giving you two choices: either make him leave now.” “Or I’ll expose all your disgusting secrets!” 4 Just as I expected, Evelyn chose the first option. Not only did she fear for her own career, but she also couldn’t bear the thought of even a speck of tarnish on her “little moon.” So when Steve Pierson came to find me, I wasn’t surprised. In fact, I was almost hoping he would. I chose a quiet coffee shop for our meeting, a place Evelyn and I used to frequent. Steve looked just like his social media photos – full of youthful collagen, vibrant and energetic. But he also had the common flaw of the young: he was too impatient. “You saw the photos I sent you, right? We’ve already… slept together.” “Tsk tsk, I just casually mentioned leaving, and she got so worked up.” “But thanks to you, really. If you hadn’t pushed her so hard, how else would she have appreciated how good I am?” He was like a puffed-up rooster, eager to provoke me into divorcing Evelyn. But I just smiled indifferently, my gaze falling on the wristwatch he wore. “A classic from R-Brand. Evelyn certainly spares no expense for you.” Steve’s lips curved into a smug smile. But before he could speak, I continued: “I’ve looked into your family background. You can’t afford a six-figure watch.” “Little brother, let me give you a legal heads-up. The money she’s spent on you is marital property. If we divorce, you’ll have to return half of it.” “Though I assume most of it’s already spent, isn’t it?” “Or, I could pay a visit to your parents. Then the entire village will know that you, Steve Pierson, are someone’s mistress in college!” Steve’s smile froze. He sprang to his feet, his once handsome features twisting into something momentarily grotesque. “You wouldn’t dare!” “You can test me and see if I dare!” I spoke, and even though I remained seated, my presence overwhelmed him. Just then, the aggressive young man suddenly glanced behind me. The next second, he quickly grabbed his coffee cup and splashed it all over his face. When he spoke again, his eyes were red. “Brother, I’m sorry. There’s truly nothing going on between me and Professor Lee.” “I’m leaving the country soon. Please, stop tormenting me, alright?” A rush of hurried footsteps came from behind me. I had never seen Evelyn in such a frantic state. She immediately pulled Steve into her embrace, tenderly wiping the coffee from his face. When she looked at me, her eyes were icy cold, yet she dared not utter a single word to me, especially with outsiders present. I watched her, a mocking smile on my face. Just then, several students, who had been following her, began chattering. They were clearly Evelyn’s students, appearing to have just come from a meeting, notebooks still in hand. “Is this the legendary good-for-nothing husband of Professor Lee? Tsk tsk tsk, no wonder Professor Lee doesn’t want to go home!” “Not only does he live off Professor Lee, he’s paranoid every day. He actually suspects Steve, her most brilliant student!” “Exactly! Steve said he’s being forced to leave the country because of him, and he still came here to humiliate him!” With every word they spoke, Steve’s eyes grew redder. Evelyn’s face grew paler. I raised an eyebrow. The next second, I moved with unexpected speed, walked up to Steve, and punched him hard in the face, then smiled at the students. “See? If I really wanted to hit him, I wouldn’t do something so trivial.” Steve clutched his face, stumbling backward into Evelyn’s arms, his hatred barely suppressed in his eyes. Evelyn finally lost her temper, shouting, “Enough! Ethan Pierson, don’t push it too far!” Me, pushing it too far? Oh, there was much more to come! Before I could retort, one of the girls who had spoken up for Steve shoved me hard. “What else do you want to do? If you touch him again, I’m calling the police!” I lost my balance for a moment, falling to the ground, my head hitting the corner of the table with a sickening thud. The world spun. The girl panicked, quickly telling Evelyn she hadn’t meant to. But Evelyn merely gave me a deep, unreadable look. In the end, she said nothing, and left with her students. I clutched my throbbing head, struggling to my feet. I didn’t watch Evelyn and Steve, supporting each other, walk away. Instead, my gaze fixed on a hidden spot on the ceiling.

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My mother, she always favored my sister. All her life. Yet, on her deathbed, she left the only house to me. My sister, the indulged one, only received a worn-out jewelry box. Just as a wave of emotion swelled in me, a pop-up appeared: 【Actually, their mother owed a huge debt. Giving the house to the elder sister was a way to pass on all the debts to her. The sister was eventually forced to jump off a building by the creditors. So tragic.】 【Meanwhile, the younger sister, with the photo hidden in the jewelry box, successfully married the son of a billionaire and lived a life of luxury.】 【Too bad the younger sister started cursing loudly right after hearing the will, causing their mother to die of anger before she could reveal the truth to her.】 I was stunned. That night, I rummaged through a forgotten corner and found the jewelry box my sister had discarded. It led me straight to the billionaire’s mansion. … The moment he saw me, the billionaire froze. I handed him the jewelry box. His hand trembled slightly as he took it, retrieving a photo from a hidden compartment. It was a faded picture of two people, their faces blurred beyond recognition, but he stared at it in silence for a long time. “Where is she?” “My mother passed away.” I lowered my gaze. “She gave me this before she died.” He sighed. “When we parted ways back then, I made her a promise.” “If her daughter ever came to me with this, I would have my son marry her.” He called for his assistant. “Bring Aiden back.” My eyes widened. The comments were actually true. The billionaire was really going to call his son back to marry me. Aiden stormed in, still in his black racing suit, a look of impatience etched on his face. The billionaire pointed at me. “I called you back to discuss your marriage.” Only then did Aiden’s gaze land on me. He scoffed, his disdain clear. “Dad, who did you pick up from some slum? Another woman trying to climb the social ladder with just a pretty face?” “Shut up.” The billionaire glared at him. “You’re always playing those death-defying games. Who knows when you’ll end up dead somewhere. Get married, leave an heir, then you can die however you please.” “No marriage, and all your cards will be frozen, and your racing team blacklisted, starting now.” The billionaire stood up, his stance firm. “Choose.” Father and son locked eyes. Realizing his father was serious this time, Aiden gritted his teeth, then turned to me. “Fine, it’s just a marriage, isn’t it?” The registration took only half an hour. Stepping out of the registry office, I was still dazed, everything feeling like a dream. Aiden snatched my phone. When he returned it, ten million dollars had been added to my account. He warned me, “I’m going racing. You go back on your own. Take the money and keep quiet. Don’t even think about running to my dad.” I opened my mouth to speak. “Actually…” He frowned impatiently. “I knew it. You women are all so greedy. I’ve transferred another ten million. Don’t pester me, and don’t expect me to fall in love with you.” I started to say, “Actually, I don’t need…” My phone chimed again. A third ten million landed in my account. I immediately shut up. “Understood, young master. Have a wonderful time.” After Aiden left, I hailed a cab and went home. The moment I opened the door, someone roughly grabbed my hair, dragging me to the floor. The man, who had done the pulling, blew a smoke ring in my face. “So, you’re the one who forged the will and stole Lily’s house?” My sister, Lily, leaned against him, her eyes red from crying. “Sis, my boyfriend had it appraised. The will is fake. Even if you’re short on cash, you can’t go against Mom’s last wishes.” “If you sign the transfer agreement now and give the house back to me, I won’t call the police.” I slowly got up, my knee throbbing with pain. “Alright, I’ll sign. But there must be a lawyer present to certify that Mom’s house is inherited by you.” Lily’s rich-kid boyfriend made a call, and soon a lawyer arrived with a contract. Seeing me sign my name, Lily snatched the agreement, checked it, and then a smirk played on her lips. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to just listen from the start?” She leaned in close, lowering her voice. “It’s just a crummy house. My boyfriend’s family has plenty, but I just can’t stand to see you happy, you know? You deserve to be a pauper your whole life, a stepping stone for me.” I was trembling with anger. The comments were also furious on my behalf: 【How can this sister be like this? When she made mistakes as a child, their mother only hit the older sister. When the older sister grew up, all the money she earned was taken by their mother and spent on the younger sister. I feel like the older sister isn’t even her biological child.】 【At first, seeing the older sister go to the billionaire with the photo, I thought she was stealing her sister’s life. Now, it seems the younger sister deserves whatever she gets.】 Tears welled in my eyes as I read those words. Just then, my phone rang. It was Aiden. “Didn’t I tell you to go home? Where are you? The butler didn’t see you, and the old man called me again.” I paused. “I went back to my old home.” He clicked his tongue on the other end. “Why are you running around? You have half an hour. Get back to the mansion, fast. The housekeeper made a big dinner, and if you’re not there, he’ll ask me again. It’s annoying as hell.” He hung up, clearly irritated. Immediately, another call came in. “Good evening, Madam. I’m the Hayes family’s driver. Where are you now? I’ll come pick you up and take you home.” I gripped my phone, a strange tremor in my heart. Turns out, I wasn’t utterly alone after all. I gave him the address and went inside to pack my things. Lily leaned against the doorframe, scrutinizing me. “So that’s why you were so cooperative. You found a man to take you in.” “Is it some old man who’s keeping you? Or did you find another broke guy and you’re moving into a rented room with him?” I ignored her, picking up my suitcase. “Excuse me.” “What’s the rush?” She blocked my way. “Call your boyfriend up. Let me see what kind of man would even look at someone like you.” The Hayes family car certainly wasn’t cheap. If Lily saw it… I suddenly smiled. “You’re so interested in my boyfriend. Are you trying to seduce him?” “Then again, you’ve been used to stealing my things since childhood.” Lily froze, then burst out laughing. “Are you crazy? Someone like you, what kind of good catch could you find? Old, ugly, poor — I wouldn’t take him if he was free.” “Willow, I think you’re just embarrassed to show him off.” I pushed her aside and left without looking back. I moved into the Hayes family mansion. The butler had already prepared silk pajamas, jewelry, and a full set of imported skincare products. After eating well and sleeping soundly, my skin even smoothed out a bit. Goodbye to those days of working until three in the morning, saving money by eating instant noodles, being yelled at by clients without daring to talk back, and having my credit stolen by my boss while still having to say thank you. Goodbye, miserable life. Aiden didn’t come home for three days straight. But that didn’t stop him from becoming a figure worthy of respect in my mind, like a sugar daddy. On the third night, my phone rang. “Can you drive? Come pick me up.” It was Aiden’s voice; the background noise was loud. As I walked into the private room in a long dress, several pairs of eyes swung towards me, filled with scrutiny, mockery, and ill intent. Aiden sat in the center, swirling a drink in his hand. “Aiden, is this the one your dad forced on you?” A guy grinned, sizing me up. “She’s pretty obedient, came right when you called.” Aiden looked at me, raising an eyebrow. “It’s all an act. I’ve seen plenty of women like this—innocent on the surface, but secretly plotting something.” I pretended not to hear him, walking to his side. “Time to go home?” “What’s the rush?” He leaned back. “Sit there and wait. We’ll leave when I’ve had my fill.” I walked to a corner sofa and sat down. I ordered an orange juice and sipped it slowly. The lights in the room flashed erratically, and the music pounded. Aiden kept glancing my way while talking to others—once, twice, thrice. I remained quiet and demure, my eyelashes casting shadows on my face, looking like someone anyone could bully. 【LOL, Aiden was suddenly stuck with a wife. The more he thought about it over the past couple of days, the angrier he got, so he decided to call her out to humiliate her.】 【His ‘humiliation’ wouldn’t be just ignoring Willow, would it? Willow used to work twenty hours of overtime to pay for her mother’s medical bills, and she wouldn’t even flinch when her boss threw documents in her face. Sitting on a sofa and spacing out must be a reward for her.】 【Meanwhile, Aiden saw his friends secretly looking at Willow and his face turned dark with anger.】 It wasn’t until a guy came over to talk to me that Aiden suddenly put down his glass, stood up, and walked over. “Let’s go.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me out. In the car, I even thoughtfully buckled his seatbelt for him. He turned to me, frowning. “Don’t you have any temper?” “I do,” I said. “But I don’t have one for you.” Of course, I had no temper for Aiden. He was just a stranger to me. And if a stranger inexplicably transferred thirty million dollars to me, even if they slapped me, I’d still ask them if their hand hurt. Aiden suddenly fell silent. I wondered if it was just my imagination, but his ears seemed a little red. It was two in the morning when we got home. When I came out after my shower, Aiden was standing in the hallway, looking like he was heading to the kitchen. He paused when he saw me. I was only wrapped in a bath towel, my hair still dripping. Aiden’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He averted his gaze, then shifted it back. “You…” He cleared his throat. “Wear proper clothes when you come out from now on.” “This is my room’s doorway.” “This is my house.” He frowned. “Don’t try to seduce me. I’m not interested in you.” “And don’t think acting innocent will make me soft. Just wait, I’ll soon expose your true colors.” I: “?”

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I loved Ethan deeply for ten years, yet I had to watch him play the husband to my brother-in-law’s widow, Selene. Selene publicly called me a homewrecker and infuriated my critically ill mother to death. Yet in his office, he told his friend he’d fallen for Selene, and our ten-year marriage now held only duty and compensation. I endured, I compromised, and even when Selene tried to murder me with a knife, he still protected her and locked me in the attic. On the day of my mother’s funeral, I publicly filed for divorce and exposed everything. Later, Selene gave birth to a bastard child, Ethan went mad, kidnapped me, then became a vegetable in a car accident. I boarded a plane to Europe, Adrian holding my hand, asking softly, “From now on, can I be your first priority?” I nodded with a smile, and from then on walked alongside him toward my new life. Tara’s POV I’m Tara, Ethan’s wife, yet I had to watch helplessly as he played the husband to his brother Eric’s widow, Selene. All because after Eric’s death, Selene suffered a severe shock, became mentally unstable, and insisted Ethan was her husband. And she was pregnant with Eric’s child. Ethan’s parents knelt and begged him to temporarily impersonate his brother to keep Selene stable until she gave birth. “It’s just an act. I absolutely won’t touch her,” Ethan swore to me. “Once the baby’s born, everything will end.” But the act became more and more real. He moved into Selene’s bedroom, took meticulous care of her, and the two looked exactly like a real couple. What I couldn’t accept even more was that Selene publicly accused me of being a homewrecker. My mother was already critically ill, couldn’t withstand the shock, and died on the spot. I knelt on the ground, crying my heart out. With trembling hands, I dialed Ethan’s number once, twice, three times… but no one answered. Like a wandering ghost, I walked to his office, only to hear him say with a bitter smile to his friend, “What do I do? I think I’ve gotten too deep into the role. I’ve really fallen for Selene.” That single sentence shattered my entire world! Sharp pain shot from my heart straight to the top of my head, and I could barely stand. Why?! Wasn’t he the one who said it was just an act, that once the baby was born, everything would end? Could all these years of feelings not compare to his few months with Selene? I endured, I yielded, my mother even died because of this… Now, was I going to lose my husband too?! I refused to accept this! I was unwilling! I had to ask him face to face! Just as I was about to push the door open, I heard his friend ask, “What about Tara?” My movement suddenly froze. I wanted to hear what Ethan would say. Would there be even a trace of attachment? Would he be reluctant to see me hurt? Would he turn back in time? Ethan was silent for a moment, then said in a deep voice, “Tara and I have been together for ten years. I should be responsible for her.” “But do you understand? Ten years might really be too long. Touching her is like touching myself.” “Now I don’t even want to answer her calls. Just hearing her name annoys me.” “I can only let her continue being Mrs. Lancaster as compensation for her.” I leaned against the cold wall, tears flooding out. Ten years-a whole ten years! I gave my entire heart, and in his eyes, it only earned me ‘duty’ and ‘compensation’! What about love? Had all that intense love between us died?! Outside the window, rain poured down. I thought of that reckless rainy night so many years ago… Ethan and I were high school classmates. I hadn’t wanted any entanglement with this man. After all, Ethan was so unreachable. Distinguished family background, excellent grades, and devastatingly handsome looks. But unexpectedly, this dazzling Ethan had secretly loved me for three whole years. I remember that night. Ethan stood in the pouring rain downstairs from my house, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Tara! I love you!” On the day we chose universities, he didn’t even look at other options, directly choosing the same school as me, and said with a smile, “Wherever you are, that’s where my future is.” After entering university, we were a famously model couple, and even now the school still tells stories about our romance. After graduation, I went to Europe for further studies, while Ethan went to North America for his MBA. But not even the entire Atlantic Ocean could separate our love. Ethan frequently flew to my school. Even with only one day free, he had to see me. After graduate school, Ethan defied family pressure and decisively proposed to me. This year marks our tenth year together, our third year of marriage. I had been so certain we would be happy forever. I never expected that the boy who once professed his love in the rain would never come back. Through the crack in the door, I saw Ethan’s profile. Still so young, so handsome. Time seemed to have left no trace on him. But his eyes were so unfamiliar, so cold, they made me tremble all over. His next words plunged me straight into hell. “These days with Selene, I’ve experienced a joy I’ve never felt before.” “Once Selene gives birth, I’ll send her abroad, then continue taking care of her under Eric’s identity.” His friend asked, “Will Tara agree?” “What right does she have to disagree?” Ethan was dismissive. “Her mother’s still in the ICU. Several hundred thousand a month in expenses, and follow up treatment will cost even more. How could she afford it?” “Besides continuing as Mrs. Lancaster and playing deaf and dumb, what other choice does she have?” Word by word, each one pierced my heart. I felt the air around me growing thin, couldn’t catch my breath no matter what. I stumbled out, rushing into the rain. So it turned out my critically ill mother was, in his eyes, just leverage to control me! The heavy rain soaked me through, but couldn’t extinguish the flames of revenge in my heart. Ethan, you don’t know yet, do you? My mother is already gone. She was driven to death by you and your beloved, working together! There’s nothing left to hold me back now… I stopped in my tracks, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number. “Transfer five million to my account. I need the best lawyer! I want a divorce!”

Tara’s POV The next evening, I forced down my nausea and stepped into the Lancaster house. The lawyer told me that if I wanted a smooth divorce, I’d better have solid evidence of Ethan’s infidelity. I decided to hide my mother’s death for now and pretend everything was normal. I’d barely crossed the living room when Selene’s sickeningly sweet voice latched onto me. “Miss Tara, you’re finally back~ I’ve been craving the cake you make!” Ethan had truly been taking excellent care of her. Six months pregnant, she looked rosy-cheeked with innocent eyes. As if the person who had shrilly accused me of being a homewrecker and infuriated my mother to death at the hospital yesterday wasn’t her at all. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, almost drawing blood. The pain barely helped me maintain my composure, forcing down the bone-deep hatred as I said hoarsely, “Hire a chef. I’m tired.” “But I want yours,” Selene pouted, rubbing her belly. “The baby inside wants it too.” Ethan’s mother immediately chimed in, “Selene’s carrying a precious child. Tara, can’t you show a little consideration?” Ethan’s father frowned too, glancing at me with displeasure. The study door opened. Ethan walked out, his gaze passing over me without the slightest warmth. “If Selene wants it, go make it. Don’t keep her waiting.” “Eric,” Selene cooed, leaning toward him. “Don’t be so harsh with her.” Ethan looked down at her, the ice in his eyes melting instantly, becoming tender enough to drip water. “Alright, whatever you say.” When he turned back to me, cold and distant again. “Hurry up.” That sentence was like a sharp knife, stabbing my most painful spot. This was clearly my husband, yet he brazenly played another man in front of me, being sweet with another woman. But right now, I couldn’t act rashly. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, then turned and walked into the kitchen. Last night I’d been drenched in rain all night. A low fever made me dizzy and lightheaded, my vision going dark in waves. As I mixed the batter, images of my mother’s pale face at death and the Lancaster family’s cold expressions flashed alternately, tearing at my nerves. My eyes burned hot. I forced the tears back. I couldn’t cry. At least not now. I still had more important things to do. Nearly exhausted, I worked for almost two hours before the cake was barely finished. But Selene only lazily tasted half a bite before pushing it away, pouting coquettishly, “I waited too long. I’m sleepy now. Don’t want it anymore.” Ethan carefully helped her up, not even glancing back as he tossed at me, “Be faster next time.” He supported Selene and headed straight to their room. Selene gave me a faint glance, a trace of triumph flashing in her eyes. I stood frozen, my chest heavy and cold, as if weighed down by ice. I remembered how before, if I just had a slight loss of appetite, Ethan would chase after me to feed me, doing everything he could to coax me. And now, all that tenderness and care had gone to another woman. Love never disappears. Love only transfers. Leaving me alone in the same place, foolishly waiting. My vision began to blur, my head splitting with pain. I knew I had a high fever and should take medicine quickly. But I felt cold all over, couldn’t muster any strength. Soon I collapsed onto the sofa, losing consciousness. When I woke again, the entire Lancaster household was in chaos. Apparently Selene had broken out in hives and was having difficulty breathing. Ethan’s face was ashen. He scooped Selene up horizontally and rushed out the door, heading straight to the hospital. He completely failed to notice me on the sofa, my face deathly pale. I went to the hospital myself and registered for emergency care. My name was called over the loudspeaker. I forced myself to stand up, about to go for treatment. But a figure blocked my path, gripping my wrist hard. “You knew perfectly well that Selene is severely allergic to peanuts! Why did you still put peanuts in the cake?!” It was Ethan. He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. I was burning with fever, dizzy, and he was shaking me until I could barely stand. “There weren’t any peanuts… I didn’t put any in…” “Liar!” Ethan shoved me away. I stumbled backward, hitting the cold wall, my whole body swaying, yet it earned not a trace of his sympathy. “The doctor said it was food allergy! Who else but you? Tara, how did you become so vicious? That’s Eric’s only flesh and blood in her belly!” I took a deep breath and asked back, “Eric’s only flesh and blood. What does that have to do with me?” He looked at me with disappointment, saying coldly, “If I hadn’t let Eric take that business trip to spend your birthday with you, he would never have been on that flight!” “The one who should have been in the plane crash was me! The one who should have lost her husband was you!” “Tara, you owe Eric a life! Yet you harm his wife and child. Do you have any conscience at all?!” With a buzzing sound, my world fell completely silent. The high fever and heartbreak dulled my senses. I could only see his lips moving. His emotionless gaze was like a dull knife, slowly torturing my already mangled heart. Eric’s death was an accident. Why should I atone for it?! I’d already yielded my husband, even lost my mother whom I depended on-wasn’t that enough?! I desperately wanted to question Ethan, but my throat was so dry and painful, I couldn’t make a sound. Sliding down the cold wall to sit on the floor, I closed my eyes. Before losing consciousness, I saw Ethan panic and rush toward me, calling out, “Tara, what’s wrong?” But my heart was already completely numb. In the last second before losing consciousness, I murmured, “Ethan, don’t call my name…” You don’t deserve to. In the darkness, I thought hazily. Less than seven days until my mother’s funeral. That day, I would hold a grand memorial service for my mother. And that day, I would bring everything to an end. I would give my mother closure.

Tara’s POV When I woke, my fever had broken. Ethan sat by the hospital bed. Seeing me open my eyes, he reached out to feel my forehead, but I turned my head away. His hand hung awkwardly in midair before slowly withdrawing. “Tara,” he sighed, somewhat wearily. “Selene has less than three months before giving birth. For my sake, for this family’s sake, just endure a bit longer. Stop fighting with her, okay?” Seeing my silence, he coaxed gently, “Once the baby’s born, everything will return to normal. I promise.” Return to normal? I laughed coldly inside. I knew he was lying to me. Once the baby was born, he would just keep Selene abroad, enjoying happiness. I closed my eyes, my voice hoarse. “I’m tired. Get out.” Just then, a man in a black suit with a white flower pinned to his chest walked in and bowed to me. “Ms. Tara, we’ve handled everything according to your requirements. Have you confirmed the time for the funeral?” The air instantly froze. Ethan turned his head, his sharp gaze shooting straight at me. “Funeral? What funeral? Who died?” My heart raced wildly. This was a funeral home employee. He was handling my mother’s arrangements. I couldn’t reveal my hand now. If Ethan realized he no longer had anything to hold over me, he’d surely be on guard. I casually lied, “A family member.” Ethan wanted to press further, but urgent footsteps sounded outside the room. The butler appeared breathlessly at the door, his face full of anxiety. “You must come quickly! The lady woke up extremely agitated, crying and calling for your brother’s name. No one can calm her down, and the doctor says it’s very bad for the fetus!” Ethan stood up almost instantly, completely forgetting about me and the suspicious farewell ceremony, striding out after the butler. For most of the rest of the day, I lay alone in the hospital bed, listening to the gossip in the corridor. “That Mrs. Lancaster in the VIP room is so blessed. Mr. Lancaster has been watching over her the whole time.” “I heard Mr. Lancaster even contacted a top nutritionist to create a custom pregnancy plan for her. He treasures her like she’ll melt in his palm.” “Different people, different fates. Look at that room. That woman passed out from fever, and not a single person came to check on her…” These voices were like fine needles, piercing me full of holes. I remembered five years ago when I was alone in Europe, had an appendicitis attack, and passed out from pain. When I woke, Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, holding my hand and calling my name. Later I learned that Ethan had flown over overnight, not sleeping for more than ten hours. Back then I thought that I want to be with this man for a lifetime, never to part. But lifetime was still so far away. How had everything changed? I stared at the stark white ceiling as the last bit of warmth in my chest dissipated… As night fell, a nurse walked in. “Ms. Tara, there’s one more test. Please come with me.” I didn’t think much of it and followed the nurse through the corridor, turned several corners, and stopped outside a hospital room. “Wait a moment. I need to get something.” The nurse said this, then turned and quickly walked away. I was left there alone. The door was ajar, and from inside came the faint sound of a woman acting coquettish and a man’s low, suppressed breathing.

Tara’s POV I quickly recognized them, Selene and Ethan. I instinctively wanted to flee, but those obscene sounds surrounded me with crystal clarity. “Eric, I’m scared. Hold me tight, okay? Just like before…” “Selene, don’t do this… You’re pregnant…” “The doctor said we’re past the dangerous period. It’s fine… I know you want it too…” The sound of clothes rustling, mixed with a woman’s moans. The man laughed helplessly. “I really can’t do anything with you… Just for a little while. Be careful of the baby.” Outside the door, I leaned against the wall, barely holding myself up. Every coquettish moan, every gasp inside tortured what little dignity I had left. Intense pain instantly swallowed all my senses, even breathing hurt. Ethan, is this what you meant by ‘absolutely won’t touch her’?! You not only gave her your heart, your body betrayed me too! I bit down hard on my lower lip, the taste of blood spreading between lips and teeth, barely suppressing the sobs threatening to burst from my throat. I couldn’t cry, couldn’t collapse. At least not now. Intense hatred drove me to lift my heavy arm, pointing my phone camera at that half-open door. Those images and conversations were clearly recorded. I don’t know how long passed before the intense sounds inside gradually ceased. I withdrew my phone and silently retreated to my own hospital room. The moment the door closed, I slid to the floor. My heart belatedly sent a sharp, twisting pain that made me curl up, gasping for air. When I raised my head again, my eyes were bloodshot. I had to recover quickly. I would make that pair who deceived me, humiliated me, and killed my mother pay the price! I struggled to climb up, collapsed onto the bed, and forced myself to sleep. But the peace I expected didn’t come. As dawn approached, a familiar perfume scent invaded my nostrils. I jolted awake with a start. I tried to move, but my limbs were firmly bound to the hospital bed. I looked up in terror, and what met my eyes was Selene’s face wearing a bizarre smile. “You’re awake.” Selene toyed with a sharp scalpel, cold light flowing between her fingers. “Selene?! What are you doing? Let me go!” I struggled desperately, but to no avail. “What am I doing?” Selene tilted her head, her smile innocent yet cruel. “Killing you, of course!” “Why?! Haven’t you taken enough? You want my life too?” “You’re too composed. Watching Ethan and me together, you can actually pretend nothing happened.” Selene leaned down, the cold blade sliding across my hospital gown. “So I have no choice but to kill you. Only when you disappear will Ethan belong completely to me.” I looked at her in shock. “You… you’ve been pretending all along? You’re not crazy at all! You know Eric is dead. You know he’s Ethan!” “That’s right.” Selene smiled even more happily, undisguised triumph in her eyes. “The one I’ve always loved is Ethan! If he hadn’t only had eyes for you back then, why would I have settled for marrying Eric? Now Eric’s dead. This is fate giving me a chance!” “Calm down! Selene, murder is illegal! You’ll go to prison!” I tried to awaken her reason. “Prison?” She tapped my face with the blade’s back. “Don’t forget, Ethan loves me now. Even if I kill someone, he’ll cover for me.” “Besides, everyone knows I’m a lunatic who suffered trauma. If I have an episode and accidentally kill someone, do I need to take legal responsibility?” She straightened up, raising that gleaming scalpel and aiming it at my chest. The smile faded from her face, leaving only bone-deep coldness. “Don’t be afraid. Soon… you won’t have any more troubles.”

Tara’s POV The hospital room door burst open. Ethan froze in the doorway, horrified. “What… what are you doing?!” Seeing the knife in Selene’s hand pointed at my chest, he rushed forward, snatched away the blade, and fumbled to cut the ropes binding me. In an instant, the murderous madness drained completely from Selene’s face. As if waking from a dream, her body swayed. She clutched her head, looking around in terror. “Ah! Where… where am I? What am I doing?” Large tears immediately flooded out, like a frightened child. “Eric? Eric, I’m so scared… I had such a terrible dream… In it, there was a woman who wanted to steal you away! And harm our baby… I’m so afraid…” She sobbed, her whole body trembling, tears streaming down her face as she reached out to Ethan. Ethan’s pupils constricted. In one swift movement, he rushed forward and pulled Selene tightly into his arms, patting her back gently. “It’s alright, Selene. I’m here. No one can hurt you or the baby.” Forgotten on the hospital bed, I watched this absurd scene unfold, a fury capable of burning everything down finally overwhelming my reason. “Ethan! Open your eyes! She just tried to kill me! She’s faking it all! She’s not crazy at all!” “I didn’t… Why are you saying this about me… And why are you calling him Ethan… Where’s Eric? Isn’t Eric here?” Selene cried even more pitifully, suddenly struggling and screaming hysterically. “Where did Eric go? They said Eric is dead. Is it true? If Eric’s dead… then I don’t want to live either! Eric’s gone anyway, everyone hates me…” As she spoke, heavily pregnant, she actually tried to ram herself into the wall. “Selene! Don’t do anything foolish! I am Eric! I’m right here!” Ethan panicked and held her, repeatedly soothing her. Once she quieted down and collapsed in his arms, when he turned back to me, only fury remained in his eyes. “Tara! That’s enough! Look at her condition! You’re still provoking her! What is your heart made of?” The commotion attracted others too. Ethan’s mother rushed in, shrieking, “Tara! Won’t you be satisfied until you drive Selene to death?” Ethan’s father also wore a stern expression, scolding, “You can’t have children yourself, so you can’t stand others carrying the Lancaster family’s child? You’re simply unreasonable!” They swarmed around her, comforting the nearly fainting Selene. Then they surrounded her, protecting her like precious porcelain, and quickly left the hospital room. And Ethan held Selene tightly the entire time, not sparing even a glance for me, who had just faced life and death. I watched his resolute back, tears silently sliding down my cheeks. Ethan’s father’s words still echoed in my ears. “You can’t have children yourself…” Can’t have children? My heart was bleeding. I had a child too, two years ago. I had the ultrasound photo printed, wanting to surprise Ethan. But before I could show it to him, we were in a car accident together. At the critical moment, I threw myself over him, using my body to shield Ethan. The baby was just… gone. Not wanting Ethan to be heartbroken, I had the doctor hide this fact. After that, I could never get pregnant again. Later, Ethan and I didn’t even have opportunities to be intimate. Perhaps it was for the best. I closed my eyes, forcing back the surging tears. From now on, that heart that once loved Ethan without reservation would no longer beat for him. With a cold expression, I pulled out a small, delicate voice recorder from the inner pocket of my hospital gown. Pressing play, after some static, Selene’s voice rang out. “The one I’ve always loved is Ethan! If he hadn’t only had eyes for you back then, why would I have settled for marrying Eric? Now Eric’s dead. This is fate giving me a chance!” This was enough. I gripped the recorder tightly, my eyes gradually becoming resolute. Mom, wait just a little longer. At your memorial service, I will expose them for what they really are!

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On the night of my birthday, a woman suffering from abdominal pain was rushed into the ER. Ethan Ford rushed Isla James into the emergency room. Her ovarian cyst had ruptured from intense sex. Yet he lied to me, saying he was in a meeting. I personally operated on my rival, only to be ordered by him afterward to quit my job and stay home to care for his mistress. Ten years of deep love, exchanged for repeated humiliation and betrayal. Finally, I dialed the Lancaster family number. “Dad, I want a divorce. I’m coming home to the Lancaster family.” When I stunned everyone at the charity gala as the Lancaster family heiress, when I personally destroyed the Ford Corporation as a doctor, he knelt on the ground, sobbing and begging to get back together. I smiled as I tore up the old letters and said to Pierce, “Honey, the ring is beautiful.” Sophia’s POV On the night of my birthday, a young woman was rushed into the ER. She was in unbearable pain, her face deathly pale. I put on gloves, pressed her abdomen, and made my diagnosis. “Ruptured ovarian cyst, intra-abdominal bleeding. Prep for surgery.” I looked up and locked eyes with a familiar pair of slightly panicked eyes. It was my husband, Ethan Ford. Ten minutes ago, this man had been sweet-talking me on the phone, saying there was a last-minute international conference at the office and he couldn’t make it back to blow out candles with me. Ten minutes later, he brought another woman to my operating table. Even the cause was deeply ironic-a ruptured ovarian cyst from overly intense sex. Outside the ER, Ethan’s friends were poking their heads in, their faces screaming “we’re screwed.” “Holy shit, Sophia’s on duty tonight?” “This is gonna blow up. Ethan really stepped in it this time.” “What’s there to worry about? You all know what Sophia’s like, right? She’s crazy about Ethan. She’ll probably just cry for a bit and that’ll be the end of it.” The nurse looked at my face, her hands trembling with anger. “Dr. Morgan, should I… call Dr. Lee down? This patient’s situation is delicate. Maybe you should recuse yourself?” The whole hospital knew that the woman lying on the bed, Isla James, was Ethan Ford’s precious “sister”-and the thorn lodged in my heart. I removed my stethoscope. “No need. Prep anesthesia. I’ll operate myself.” The murmuring outside immediately grew louder. “Seriously? Sophia’s going to do it herself?” “You think she’s gonna try to hurt Isla while she’s on the table? I mean, she is her rival.” “Last time Isla sat on Ethan’s lap in a bikini, Sophia straight up poured a whole table of drinks on them. She’s way too calm today. Something’s definitely up.” Amid all the noise, Ethan yanked his tie loose in frustration. He strode over and stared hard at my lowered lashes. “Family consent form.” I handed him the surgical consent form without even looking at him. Ethan gripped the pen so hard his knuckles turned white, pressing down with enough force to nearly tear the paper. He lowered his voice, his tone tinged with inexplicable anger. “Sophia, don’t you have anything you want to ask me?” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “The patient’s bleeding is increasing. Any more delay and she’ll go into shock. Mr. Ford, please hurry.” Mr. Ford. Ethan gritted his teeth and scrawled his signature, then shoved the form back at me. “Fine. Dr. Morgan, so professional. Then you better listen carefully. If anything happens to Isla, I’m holding you personally responsible!” I took the form and turned to leave. The operating room doors slowly closed, and the “Surgery in Progress” light turned on like some kind of alarm. I knew. Ethan thought I would make a scene, lose my mind, and hysterically interrogate him like I used to. But I didn’t. 2 a.m. Surgery complete. I removed my mask and walked out of the OR, utterly exhausted. Ethan immediately rushed over. The first thing he said was: “How’s Isla?” “The surgery was successful. She’ll need a month to recover.” My voice was hoarse. “During this month, sex is strictly prohibited. Next time Mr. Ford engages in such ‘strenuous activities,’ please show more restraint.” Dead silence all around. Ethan’s buddies looked like their jaws were about to hit the floor. Ethan’s face turned ashen. He grabbed my wrist, his grip so tight it felt like he wanted to crush my bones. “Sophia, who the hell are you being sarcastic for? You’re my wife. Can’t you show a little grace? Isla’s health is fragile. I was worried about her and brought her here!” I looked down at the large hand gripping my wrist and gently pulled free. “Mr. Ford misunderstood.” I looked up and smiled faintly. “I’m a doctor. Saving lives is my duty. As for how you two play around or what happens. That’s your private business. I don’t care.” “You don’t care?” Ethan narrowed his eyes as if he’d heard a joke. “Sophia, aren’t you tired of playing hard to get? Don’t think acting like you don’t care will make me look at you any differently.” Just then, Isla was wheeled out, still groggy from anesthesia, mumbling incoherently. “Ethan… it hurts…” Ethan immediately released me, spun around, and rushed to the gurney, his voice dripping with tenderness. “I’m here, I’m here. Don’t be scared. I’m right here.” A crowd of people swarmed around the bed toward the VIP room. The corridor instantly emptied. I stood there, watching their retreating figures, the fake smile on my face slowly fading. I pulled out my phone and found a number with no label saved, one I’d kept for a long time. I dialed. Someone picked up quickly. An elderly but authoritative voice came through, tinged with cautious hope. “…Sophia?” I looked out at the pitch-black night, my voice cold and resolute. “Dad, it’s Sophia Morgan.” “Within a month, help me finalize the divorce.” “I’m coming home to the Lancaster family.”

Sophia’s POV There was a full five seconds of silence on the other end before Dad’s voice broke into a choked, joyful sob. “Yes! My dear daughter, you’ve finally come to your senses! I’ll arrange everything right away! Tomorrow…no, tonight I’ll have the legal team on standby!” The Lancaster family. New York’s wealthiest. A true top-tier dynasty. I was the Lancaster family’s long-lost heiress, separated from them for over twenty years. Six months ago, the Lancasters found me and begged me to come home. At the time, I refused. Because back then, I foolishly believed I could warm the heart of Ethan Ford, that cold, unfeeling stone. I was an orphan. The Ford family sponsored my education. Later, Ethan got into a car accident saving Isla. His legs were paralyzed, and doctors said he might spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. Isla ran off and flew overseas for “further studies.” It was me who married paralyzed Ethan Ford, despite everyone’s ridicule. For two whole years. I taught myself rehabilitation massage and spent three hours a day massaging him until my finger joints became deformed. I learned to cook for him, and my hands were covered in burn scars. The day Ethan stood up again, he held me and cried, swearing he would never betray me. But a man’s vows are probably only real in that single moment. When Isla came back to the country, she shed a few tears and offered some excuse about “hardships back then,” and Ethan’s heart tilted. Once tilted, it stayed that way for a year. Now, the debt was repaid. The love was spent. “Dad, don’t make it too high-profile. I just want to divorce quietly.” I said softly, “Give me a month to clean up the mess here.” “Whatever you say! As long as you come home, the entire Lancaster Corporation is yours! Anyone who dares bully you, I’ll make sure they can’t survive in this city!” I hung up, and the weight in my chest finally seemed to lift. My phone buzzed. A message from Ethan: “I submitted your resignation letter to your hospital director.” “Isla’s coming to our place to recover after she’s discharged. I don’t trust outsiders to take care of her. Since you’re being so reasonable, spend this month at home looking after her.” I stared at those lines of shameless text on the screen. I didn’t feel angry. I almost wanted to laugh. He wanted me, his wife, to quit my job and stay home to care for his mistress? Ethan Ford, you’re really pushing the limits of absurdity. Thinking of my plan, I tapped lightly and replied with one word: “Okay.” This month would be my final tribute to this dead love. By the time I got home, it was 4 a.m. The villa was brightly lit. Isla didn’t want to stay in the hospital, so she threw a fit about going home to recover. Ethan actually indulged her and brought her back in the middle of the night. When I pushed open the door, I saw Isla wearing my silk pajamas, leaning delicately against the sofa. Ethan was half-kneeling on the floor, carefully feeding her water. At the sound of the door opening, Isla flinched like a startled little rabbit. “She’s back… Ethan, I told you not to come here. She’s definitely going to be upset…” Ethan slammed the glass down on the coffee table and shot me a cold look. “This is my house. I’ll have whoever I want here. Does she dare have an opinion?” I changed my shoes and walked over. “The doctor said she needs rest. The mattress in the master bedroom is soft. Let her sleep there.” Ethan ordered matter-of-factly, “You sleep in the guest room.” She was taking over my nest, and doing it so brazenly. I nodded. “Fine.” I turned to go upstairs and pack my things. I’d already been so compliant, but somehow he still stood up abruptly and blocked my way in a few strides. “Sophia, what the hell are you playing at? This isn’t like you.” I looked up. “Aren’t you the one who told me to be reasonable? Now I’m not only reasonable but generous. I’ve given up my husband and my bed. What else could Mr. Ford possibly be dissatisfied with?” “You-” Ethan was left speechless. “Oh, by the way,” I remembered something. “Since you’re taking care of a patient, don’t sleep too soundly tonight. Keep an eye on her temperature. I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.” With that, I walked past Ethan and went straight upstairs. I entered the guest room and locked the door. Leaning against the door, I let out a long breath. I pulled out my phone and opened an encrypted app. It was my private booking account as the top surgeon “M”-and another identity of the Lancaster heiress. If I was leaving, I’d leave cleanly. For the past three years, I’d worked earnestly at Ford Hospital on a fixed salary. Now, it was time to reclaim what I was truly worth. Downstairs, Isla watched as Ethan stared blankly at the staircase. She bit her lip. She tugged gently on his sleeve. “Ethan, has she stopped loving you? She seems… like she really doesn’t care anymore.” Ethan snapped out of it and sneered. “Doesn’t care? She’s loved me for ten years. How could she just cut it off like that? She’s just trying a different way to get my attention.” He was utterly confident. I couldn’t leave him. That was common knowledge in their circle. Even now, he still thought that as long as he crooked his finger, I’d crawl back to him like a dog. “Just wait. Within three days, she’ll definitely come crying and beg me to kick you out.” Ethan ruffled Isla’s hair. “When that happens, I’ll make her kneel and apologize to you.” Isla nodded obediently, but a flash of cunning gleamed in her eyes.

Sophia’s POV The next morning, I was woken by pounding on the door. “Sophia! What time is it and you’re still sleeping? Are you a pig?” Ethan’s irritated voice came through the door. I glanced at my phone. 6:30 a.m. Rubbing my throbbing temples, I opened the door. Ethan stood there with a dark expression, wearing an apron that looked completely out of place. “Isla’s hungry. She wants donuts from that place on the south side. Go get them.” I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Mr. Ford, I resigned. I didn’t become your slave. If she wants food, go get it yourself or order delivery.” “Delivery takes too long! You drive. It’s faster!” Ethan said indignantly, “You used to get up at dawn to make me oatmeal when I had stomach pain. Now you can’t even buy donuts for Isla?” I looked at this man and suddenly felt like I’d been blind all these years. “You said it yourself. That was before.” “Sophia!” Ethan grabbed my shoulder. “You need to get this straight. Everything you eat, wear, and live in. Who’s paying for it? What’s wrong with asking you to do a little work? Don’t forget, if it weren’t for the Ford family back then, you’d still be fighting stray dogs for food in the orphanage!” That sentence hit my weak spot with precision. Debt of gratitude. That damned debt of gratitude again. I brushed Ethan’s hand away. “Fine. I’ll go.” This was the last time. Once I repaid this final bit, we’d be even. I changed and left, drove two hours, waited in line for an hour, and finally got the donuts. By the time I returned to the villa, it was 10 a.m. Laughter filled the living room. Isla was sitting in Ethan’s lap. The two of them were sharing a tablet, laughing so hard tears were forming. When they saw me enter, Isla immediately reined in her smile and timidly called out: “Thank you.” I set the donuts on the table, along with a complimentary hot coffee. Isla reached for the hot coffee first. Suddenly, as if scalded, her hand jerked. Most of the hot coffee spilled onto the back of my hand, with the rest splashing onto the carpet. I sucked in a sharp breath. My hand instantly turned bright red, the searing pain piercing to the bone. “What happened?!” Ethan shot up immediately. But his first instinct was to grab Isla’s hand. “Are you burned?” Isla’s eyes reddened, though her fingertips weren’t even slightly red. “I’m fine… It was my fault… But Sophia made the coffee too hot. I couldn’t hold it…” What a masterful twist of the truth. It was obviously coffee I’d bought. How could I have made it? But Ethan didn’t use his brain to think. He turned to look at me. When he saw the red swelling on the back of my hand, his gaze froze for a moment, but anger quickly covered it. “Sophia, you did this on purpose, didn’t you? You knew Isla just had surgery and is weak, yet you made the coffee this hot and handed it to her? What are you trying to pull?” I looked at my blistered hand, my heart ice-cold. This was the man I’d loved for ten years. In his eyes, my hands were made of iron. They wouldn’t hurt no matter how badly they were burned. But Isla’s hands were like glass. They’d shatter at the slightest touch. “Ethan Ford.” I looked up. “You told me to buy the donuts and coffee. The takeout packaging is still right there. The temperature was set by the shop. As for why it spilled…” I looked coldly at Isla. “Ask Miss James why her hand shook so badly.” “Sophia, watch your mouth!” Ethan exploded in rage. “Sob sob sob… Ethan, don’t blame her. It’s all my fault. I’m useless…” Isla curled up in Ethan’s arms, tears streaming down her face. Ethan’s heart ached. He pointed at the mess on the floor and yelled at me: “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and clean this! Wipe the carpet. If there’s even a stain left, don’t expect to eat dinner!” I didn’t move. I looked at Ethan and smiled. “What are you smiling at? Get moving!” I bent down. Ethan thought I’d given in. He smirked. But the next second, I didn’t reach for the carpet. I picked up the coffee cup, which still had some warmth left, and flipped it over. The remaining coffee landed precisely on Ethan’s six-figure custom shirt. And on his face. Dead silence. Isla’s crying stopped abruptly, her mouth agape. Ethan was completely stunned, brown coffee dripping down his prominent nose. He looked as pathetic as a drowned rat. “Sophia!!!” His furious roar nearly blew the roof off. I pulled out a wet wipe and calmly cleaned my uninjured hand, my tone flat. “Since you think I’m dirty, then nobody gets to stay clean.” “Also, I’m not cleaning the carpet. Whoever made the mess can clean it.” With that, I turned and walked away, leaving behind two spectacularly distorted faces. Satisfying. So satisfying. This was the first time in three years I felt like I could breathe freely.

Ethan’s POV I was furious. I locked myself in the study and smashed a set of antiques. “Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous!” I never imagined that Sophia, who used to be too timid to even raise her voice, would dare pour coffee on my face! “Mr. Ford…” My assistant knocked timidly and entered. “About tomorrow night’s charity gala… who should you bring as your plus-one?” According to convention, for such formal occasions, I had to bring my wife to show marital harmony and stabilize stock prices. I wiped the coffee stains from my hair with a dark expression. “Bring what? Bring Isla!” The assistant froze. “But… the hosts specifically invited Mrs. Ford. I heard someone from the Lancaster Corporation will be there too. If we bring Miss James, won’t that…” Lancaster Corporation. Hearing that name, I calmed down a bit. Lancaster was investing a hundred-billion-dollar project in New York recently, and every major family wanted a piece. The Fords were no exception. I’d heard the mysterious Lancaster heiress would make an appearance. At such a critical moment, I really couldn’t afford any slip-ups. “Tell Sophia,” I said through gritted teeth. “Tomorrow night, she’d better clean herself up and come with me to the gala. If she dares embarrass me, I won’t let her off!” “Also, tell her to apologize to Isla! Otherwise, she can forget about this month’s allowance!” The assistant wiped his cold sweat and retreated. When I called, Sophia was applying medicine to her burned hand. After listening, she gave a derisive laugh. “I’ll go to the gala.” Sophia said into the phone, “As for apologizing, dream on.” Before I could lose my temper, she hung up. I was so angry my chest hurt. The next evening, New York’s largest banquet hall. Luxury cars everywhere, stars gleaming. I wore a black custom suit, with Isla on my arm. Isla wore a white strapless gown with a diamond necklace I’d just won at auction around her neck. She looked delicate and charming, her face full of smugness. “Ethan, is she really not coming?” Isla asked worriedly. I snorted coldly. “She doesn’t know what’s good for her. If she doesn’t come, fine. Saves me the annoyance.” I’d brought Isla anyway. If Sophia didn’t show, I’d just say she wasn’t feeling well. If she did show… well, that would be her own inability to keep me. Just then, the banquet hall doors slowly opened. A spotlight swept over, and the entire hall fell silent. “Who is that?” “So beautiful! Is she some celebrity?” “Oh my God, that’s… Sophia?!” At the end of the red carpet, a woman walked slowly forward. She wore a deep blue haute couture gown like a starlit night sky, the hem encrusted with thousands of tiny diamonds that sparkled with each step. The fitted cut perfectly outlined her graceful waist, and her exposed shoulders and neck formed a swan-like curve. Most shocking was her presence. Gone was the timid, conservatively dressed Mrs. Ford. Now, she held her chin high, lips a fiery red, gaze sweeping imperiously across the room, radiating a powerful aura. I was stunned. I nearly dropped my champagne. This… this was Sophia? That Sophia who used to hover around the kitchen reeking of cooking oil? “Well, well, Mr. Ford.” Sophia walked straight up to me in ten-centimeter heels. She glanced at Isla on my arm, a playful smile curving her lips. “Parading around with your mistress-Mr. Ford’s taste is as… unique as ever.” Low laughter rippled through the crowd. My face turned ashen. “Sophia, what do you think you’re wearing?! Where’d you get the money for these clothes? Did you steal my card?” After all, in my mind, Sophia was dirt poor. Sophia raised an eyebrow, about to respond, when a commotion erupted behind her. “Mr. Lancaster has arrived!” The crowd automatically parted. New York’s wealthiest man, Lancaster Corporation CEO Mr. Lancaster, strode forward surrounded by bodyguards. I immediately straightened my tie and approached with a smile. “Mr. Lancaster, hello. I’m from Ford Corporation-” But Mr. Lancaster didn’t even glance at me. He walked right past me. My hand froze mid-air, embarrassment making my toes curl. Mr. Lancaster stopped in front of Sophia. That stern face instantly softened into a warm, affectionate smile. He reached out, carefully adjusting her gown, his tone so indulgent it was almost embarrassing. “Sophia, my dear, does this dress fit? I picked it out for ages.” Total silence. My brain exploded. Her father?

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